#I remember i saw a girl break down in a hall because the dress she ordered arrived THAT day and when she opened it the thing was terrible

[squibbles-gubwee]

Lolita dresses are so wild because there's basically three varieties.

Beautifully hand crafted ones with gorgeous details and a hand painted and dyed fabric, or a repurposed old dress found at a thrift store that has been embroidered by hand. This took hours, days, months to put together. You found these specific buttons that matched the exact ones in the dress at a consignment shop 2 hours away. This thing is art.

A super expensive 400 dollar dress made by a manufacturer that does not have a thing under 250, by the way you need the matching parasol and boots to complete the look, thats 300 and 600 respectively. We'll ship in 6 months.

You bought a Shein dress. Pattern is unaligned, the frills and ruffles and lace are held together by visible hot glue. the buttons do not function. It may be too big but it is also too small. This will only somehow fit a pre-pubescent kid right, and everyone else looks wrong. You look it up and its a knock off a 500 dollar dress from that one company. Its 120% polyester and has tons of loose strings. Theres a hole. You spent 100 dollars and you want to die.

[dorkydiaz]

BUT IT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT [1.7k | post poker date spec (?) | angst with a happy ending] {ao3}

title from afterglow by taylor swift, for @singlethread enjoy

Buck feels…happy as they exit the back room, their wallets filled to the brim. There’s a buzz under their skin from winning, from the alcohol, and the good company.

Eddie orders the Uber and it’s tensely quiet as they ride through the streets of LA back to the loft. The air is charged and Eddie keeps looking at him when he thinks he’s not looking.

They make it up the stairs and into the apartment before either of them say anything really.

“Beer?” Buck asks, gently placing his jacket on the counter. Eddie hums as he takes the already offered bottle. He leaves his jacket on.

“How did you know? The seventeen seconds? Everyone told me it was three minutes. But you-“

“Because I counted all of them.” Eddie replies, biting his lip, “And those seventeen seconds lasted a lifetime Buck. And it was seventeen seconds because of me.”

Buck cocks his head, his brow scrunched.

“I- I was the one who—no one?”

“What Eddie? I may be able to do math now but I think I need you to spell this one out for me.”

Eddie bites his lip again and studies the pattern of the granite countertop.

“I was the one who brought you back to life,” he replies softly and quietly. Like it’s fragile. Like it’s admitting something else entirely.

“Oh.” Buck breathes just as soft. “I guess I never said thank you. So, thank you. I—“

“I owed you one,” Eddie replies, taking a sip of beer.

“Still. Thank you.” he says it sincerely, trying to convey every part of it to Eddie. Because if he’s honest he’s still reeling from it. There’s still a tingle under his skin. He jokes about it with Maddie. And the night in the kitchen hadn’t changed much, just given a little perspective. But he still hadn’t found his level as Dr. Salazar put it. The most at peace he had felt was with Eddie in that parking lot waiting for an Uber.

“Did you have fun?” Eddie asks, breaking the spiral, he saw it coming no doubt and pulled Buck right back out.

“Yeah, thanks for that too. It’s been a long time since I went out, got dressed up and stuff you know? And I’ve only ever played poker with Maddie.”

“You never—“ Eddie cuts himself off and clears his throat, “I'm glad. Been awhile for me too I guess.”

A silence fills every corner of the loft. Buck swears he can hear the neighbors arguing in the apartment across the hall. And he’s frozen. And Eddie steps closer.

The silence grows impossibly bigger.

And Eddie kisses him.

It’s soft and chaste and everything that a first kiss should be.

But he can’t kiss back. He can’t get his hands to move to Eddie’s hips. Can't open his mouth to make room for Eddie’s tongue. He almost wants to cry. And a small whimper escapes. He wishes he could explain it. But he can’t even look at him.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers, his eyes squeezed shut.

“It's okay,” Eddie replies, placing his beer on the island, and letting his hands run over Buck's arms like receding tides as he slips away.

The door clicks shut and he presses the heels of his hands over his eyes. All he can do is strip off the suit that Eddie had shoved into his arms in a garment bag not hours ago, and crawl into bed and try to sleep. ___

“Eddito, what’s wrong?” Pepa asks as soon as she opens the door. He has his hands shoved in his sweatpants pockets. His mouth twists and he shakes his head and leans down to hug her. She kisses his cheeks like always.

“How’s Christopher?” he asks instead.

“Perfect Angelito, as always,”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” he smiles sadly.

“I remember another Angel that had that phase.” She pats his cheek as he sits at the kitchen table and hands him his mug of coffee with a teaspoon of sugar and a dash of cinnamon.

“He’s still sleeping,” she slips into her own chair, “I met this very nice girl at the hair salon this week. She’s new in town, looking for people her own age…maybe someone to date…?”

Eddie swallows past the memory of Buck’s still lips against his.

How perfect everything had been up until that point. He swallows again, “You can give her my number,” he concedes. The acid crawling up his throat.

“Are you sure?”

He grimaces but still nods, “I should get back out there. It's been a long time since I've been on a date. It would be good to try again.”

He sips his coffee and the minutes tick by until Christopher makes his way into the kitchen.

“Mornin’ Dad,” Chris grumbles but still leans in for a hug.

“Hey kid,” he replies with a soft smile and ruffles his hair. Chris frowns a little.

“Can we go to the diner for breakfast?”

Eddie had been promising they would go for a few weeks.

“Sure. Say thank you to Pepa.”

He grumbles something that sounds a little bit like Gracias and Eddie just smiles at Pepa and she nods with understanding.

He gets a text a few days later,

Hi this is Emma, your aunt gave me your number.

They coordinate to get coffee on Wednesday morning after his shift.

On Monday he asks Buck if he can get Chris to school on Wednesday morning.

“What are you going to be doing?” Chimney asks as they hope the bell doesn’t ring in the last few minutes of their shift.

Eddie glances at Buck a little nervously, “I um, I’m going on a date. My aunt set us up.”

Chimney’s mouth snaps shut over a retort after Hen lightly slaps his arm. But it’s Buck who takes off, the glass he was drying hitting the counter close to dangerously hard, saying something about getting a head start on his shower.

---

Eddie had a date. A date. The very thought felt spiky, poking Buck in the chest. And most of all it hurt. Which made him feel guilty. Cause if anyone was hurt it was Eddie. He lets the water wash over him, it hadn’t even been that bad of a shift. No horrendous calls. But they had been out almost the entire time, never making it back to the station for more than an hour. And he couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie’s lips on his and how the closest he had felt close to at peace and level was when he was with Eddie. Even today, while they barely looked at each other but still were impossible to separate. He felt it alone too, just not quite as comfortable in it. Not as fully.

When he finally shakes himself free of the spiral and exits the shower, B shift is already in full swing of things and Eddie’s truck is not in the parking lot.

He has no idea what he wants to say, he just knows that he has to kiss him. For real.

It feels wrong to waltz in like he usually does, because Eddie doesn’t know he’s coming. So he knocks. And before Eddie can say a thing Buck blurts,

“Don’t go on that date tomorrow. If you really want to you can, but I just– I can’t let you do that.”

“So I can’t date anyone else but I also can’t kiss you? What am I–”

Buck kisses him, somewhat to shut him up cause he can’t live in a world Eddie doesn’t know that he wants to any more. Mostly because as he realizes now, it's what he had wanted to do so many times before.

Eddie lets out a breath beneath him and then kisses him back, dragging him in, wrapping his arms around his neck as Buck's hands land on his hips, his thumbs slipping between his waistband and shirt.

“I’m really sorry about the other night,” Buck is finally able to say between kisses as he closes the door behind him. “I am still dealing with a lot of things and I was just confused and you caught me off guard. But please don’t go. I–”

“I wasn’t gonna go the second I saw you pull up outside my door.”

“Eddie,” he practically whines in response. Eddie’s breath ghosting over his cheeks.

He finds himself trapped against the door, Eddie kissing along his jaw, his hand finding a home spreading across his waist, thumb resting on his last rib.

“I feel like we should talk more?” Buck asks. Eddie shakes his head,

“I have told you everything I need you to know, I think we have talked enough over the past five years. We have so much time.”

Buck smiles and they’re kissing again. It’s all syrupy and sweet, with a desperation to make up for what could be lost time. Or just catching up.

Eddie pulls him to the couch by his belt loops, with such little interruption that Buck barely notices his thighs bracketing Buck’s.

And oh, he thought he knew what this might be like, he’s done this a thousand times it seems. But it’s always been in cramped bathrooms or fire trucks, always somewhat awkward and tangled, quick and dirty.

This, with Eddie on the couch, their limbs slotting together like puzzle pieces, mouths opening, tongues dipping, hands–all singing in perfect harmony.

“Are we just gonna make out like teenagers until it’s time to go get Chris?” Buck asks at some point and Eddie buries his face in his chest, he can feel the smile that spreads across Eddie’s face.

“That’s a lot of making out, until three o’clock.”

“Five, he has Robotics Club today.”

“God it shouldn’t be sexy that you know that, fuck,” Eddie kisses him again. “We should move to the bed, and take a nap, shift was relentless.”

“Mmmm, what if we just take a nap right here?” Buck asks, Eddie nuzzling into his neck, little kisses just beneath his ear.

“We’re in our thirties Buck, that is not going to go well for either of our bodies,” Eddie grumbles. He tries to disentangle himself but is only met with a soft tightening grip.

“I just turned thirty–you are the old man here,” he replies teasingly, “Don’t worry I’ll take care of you.”

Eddie props himself up, hovering over Buck’s face, thumb gently resting between his eyebrow and birthmark.

The look on his face is soft, his mouth open as if to start speaking, but he just dips down and kisses the corner of Buck’s mouth gently and settles back down. Sighing as sleep wraps around them.

[emilyssky]

Chapter 8: Maybe

PAIRING: Lee Know! X fem!reader

GENRE(S): college au, smut, angst

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence and abuse, depression, self-harm, eating disorders etc.. mentions of blood, swearing, smoking, smut [ dirty talk, oral; giving and receiving, choking, spanking, praising, degradation, pet names, sometimes Minho is a dick :)

SUMMARY: "Do you remember what you told me the first time we met?"  

"What?"

"You said; Always leave people a little better than you found them" he looked at the floor with a small smile for a few seconds and then his eyes found mine. "You really annoyed me when we first met. I envied your optimism and excitement for life. But each time I saw you, I felt a certain thrill. You made me angry, you made me laugh., you made me feel everything. Something about you made me feel a little more alive each time. I know I fucked up and I know I'm an asshole but I'm also brutally in love with you."    

Minho's POV:

I run a hand through my sweaty hair, in attempt to fix it but it's pointless, I need a shower. I love this feeling though. The sweat running down your forehead, the air leaving your lungs, the sound of your heart beating filling your ears. Mornings like these are my favorite, especially now that most of the students are gone cause of the winter break and the studio is almost empty, and I have basically the whole place to myself. I have been coming to dance more and more in the past few weeks and I admit that it did start because of her but coming here again made me realize just how much I've missed it. So now it's something that I do for myself, watching her is a plus. I gulp down half of my water bottle and pull my phone out of my pocket. I have 2 missed calls from Chan. I know that he's been suspecting something for a few days now, he's not stupid but I've been avoiding him only because I know that he's gonna go all protective over his best friend and I don't really wanna deal with a talk like that right now. He is, however, one of the closest people to me and I can't really avoid him much longer. I send him a quick text, telling him that I'll come over and put my phone back in my pocket. I adjust the strap of my dance bag as I continue to walk until I hear the all-too-familiar song playing and freeze. She has 10 specific songs that she uses, so it's easy for me to know whenever she's here. I smile to myself and turn to the opposite hall without even thinking. I stop at the door and scoot a bit to the left so she won't see me. From where I'm standing I see her from the side, her hair is in a high ponytail with a few loose curls escaping and falling down her face and neck. She's dressed in a black sweater and black boodie shorts that hug her ass perfectly. I let my eyes travel from the curve of it down to her long, toned legs and can't help but lick my lips at the sight. She usually hides her body underneath layer and layer of clothes way too big for her, so this is a rare sight that I only get to see when I'm secretly watching her practice every Monday, Tuesday, and Saturday morning, maybe Friday night if I'm lucky. It's something I look forward to after my practice. I won't ever say it out loud though, I wouldn't ever admit how I can stand hours behind the thick glass, watching her body move to the music. Watching the way her long curly hair moves when she turns on her toes or how delicate her hand movements look even from far away. She reminds me of a bird when she dances. It's like her feet don't even touch the ground with hands as delicate and light as wings and her movements so perfectly blended together, that it's mesmerizing. She is fascinating to me in so many ways, until she opens her mouth. Fuck, she can make my eyes roll all the way to the back of my head. She's challenging me in a way that I never expected and how much I'm drawn to her is something I'm not ready to admit yet. Being a dick to her didn't work, she's not the type of girl that bites her tongue, but avoiding her didn't work either. Not to mention how fucking hard it was. Her presence alone is enough to light up a whole fucking room. She carries a certain light with her that annoys me to no end, mostly because she reminds me so much of my sister that sometimes I let my walls down without even realizing it. Both hold the same light in their eyes and that vibrating smile. She reminds me of myself as well. The side of me I lost. The passion in her eyes, the energy she carries, and the determination that she has. In her eyes, I see so many things. Things that I desperately wanna forget. Things I avoid facing and run away from. I see judgment in her eyes. They're like a mirror and all I can see is my shitty ass self. I don't stand there much longer. With everything that's happening between me and her, my head is all over the place. I don't know what I want or what I am doing even but I can't seem to stay away from her. But I have to, I know I have to. I don't want her to get involved with my mess.

I reach the frat in only 10 minutes and Felix is the one to open the door.

"Hey" He offers me a bright smile. That kid is such a joy to be around.

"Hey man," I pat his shoulder. "Is Chan here?"

His nods. "He's in his room."

"How's Hyujin?" I ask out of curiosity. Hyunjin and I have an interesting type of relationship, I guess you would say. He's one of the very, very few people that can bring me to my limits in an incredibly short amount of time and have a smile on his face while doing it, so torturing his annoying ass in many different ways has become a new form of entertainment for me.

His eyes widen slightly.

"Y/n left in a hurry yesterday because something happened with Hyunjin." I clarify.

"Oh," He relaxes. "He's trying." He drags out the words.

"A woman?" I smile sympathetically.

He sighs. "Yeah"

"It'll get better." I try to comfort him.

"I hope so."

I gave him one last sympathetic look and jogged up the stairs. I knocked on Chan's door twice before opening it, not waiting for him to answer.

"I have arrived," I announce.

"I have noticed." He chuckles back. He's sitting on his bed with his laptop on his legs.

I drop my bag beside the door and take a seat on the bed. "Are you working?"

"Just some touch-ups," He says and closes the laptop, putting it beside him. "Were you at the dance studio?"

"I worked with Changbin a bit, we finished Seungmin's part, and then I went to the dance studio," I explain, even though I know why he's asking.

He nods several times and takes a deep breath through his nose, kinda like he's preparing himself for what he's about to say. "Um listen-"

"I know what you're about to say." I stop him. "And there's no reason for us to talk about this." I try to avoid the conversation before he starts talking cause I know that he will not stop.

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "Minho, I'm not stupid nor blind."

"But you are wrong. It's not like that-" I begin to say but he's the one to cut me off now.

"Minho" He gives me a knowing look. "She's my best friend."

"I know." I sigh, giving up, and letting him talk.

"And you're one of my best friends as well." He adds.

"I know." I run a hand through my hair not knowing what to do with my hands.

"What I'm trying to say is that I know her and I know you."

I rest my head against the wall and focus my eyes on the wall in front of me. I really don't wanna be having this conversation. I haven't even figured shit out myself. But one thing I can never do is lie to Chan.

"Nothing has happened between us." I honestly say.

"I see the way you look at her and I see the ways you guys talk and tease each other." He lifts a brow. "I haven't seen you like that with any other girl, and I've known you for what? Almost three years now?" He laughs and I can feel a small amount of weight leaving my shoulders knowing that he's not ready to cut my dick off.

I fight a smile and shake my head. "No honestly, nothing's up. She's just fun to tease."

He leans closer and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Listen you've been through a lot of shit and there are times when she's around that I can see a genuine smile on your lips, even when you're trying to hide it. You're dancing and you're not locked up in your room. I'm happy to see you like this, making progress. She has that effect on people, you know. She's such a bright person." His smile falls slightly. "But Y/n has also been through a lot. She has had ups and downs with her mental health ever since I met her but the past year she's been struggling, especially after her last relationship."

The sudden anger that spreads through my body even at the mention of her ex shocks me a bit, remembering all the things she admitted to me that Chan doesn't know about. That time at the party when I caught them fighting in the kitchen, I acted out of instinct. When I saw her against the counter with her eyes full of hidden fear I didn't even think about it, all I knew is that I had to take her away from him. It's something that I have done more times than I can count for my mother and my sister. My anger at the beginning was towards her cause she was one of the millions of women that chose to stay silent but the growing protectiveness I feel toward her now is a feeling I can't quite figure out. The night she opened up to me about him, I stayed up, debating whether or not I would go and beat the shit out of him until he physically couldn't walk. I think that was the night I realized how much power she has over me. She has changed since I met her a year ago. I don't know what about her is different but something is. I can tell cause I've memorized every single thing about her and searched for her around campus. That night hunted me. I remember everything I felt, the heaviness in my chest and the absolute numbness that had taken over my emotions. She came out of nowhere, and I remember thinking that her voice was so annoying that I just wanted her to leave. I wanted to be alone. But she stayed and would not stop talking. Her eyes; big, bright, and full of light. A shade of green, I've never seen. Her eyes that night stared at mine and I felt annoyed, judged, and fascinated at the same time. The more I looked at her the more mesmerized I became by her. Her resemblance to my sister was amazing, in every way. The way she spoke and moved was so unique yet familiar. Simply drawing. If I'm being honest, I had made my decisions and owned my mistakes. I was at peace knowing it was finally time to give up. But just like that, she stood there, like a mirror in front of me. A reminder. A clear reflection of what I had become and all the things I could be. She spoke with so much passion about life that I got jealous. Never in my life have I met anyone like her. After she left I stayed there, in the same spot for at least an hour, her words being the only thing on my mind. I realized that; that was kind of like my second chance, a reality check. She came to offer me a second chance in life. And as much as I hated her being there at the time, as much as her words were cutting through me like a fucking knife, I needed it. I picked myself up. Piece after piece and even though life's still shit, her words were a constant motivation to keep moving, and at the end of the day; I'm still here. Alive. Well, kinda.

"My point is," he continues."Whatever you do, be careful." He kept his face natural, with his usual half smile but I could hear the hidden warning in his tone. I nod my head not knowing how to reply. I don't wanna say anything. I don't wanna talk about her.

"Alright, I'll go take a shower and then you can jump in afterward, cause no offense but you stink mate." He makes a face.

"Shut up. " I roll my eyes.

He grabs some clothes. "You could join me if you want, to save water and all." He smirks.

I grab the nearest pillow and throw it at him, which he easily avoids and disappears into the bathroom laughing.

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Y/n's POV:

I was practicing in the studio when Felix called me.

"He could come and stay with us for a few days." I offer, not really knowing what to say or do to help.

"I don't think it will make any difference," Felix says. "I think he just wants to be alone right now."

"I can understand that" I mutter. Jackson was my first real relationship and that heartbreaking feeling that weighed on my chest months even after our break is one that I don't wish upon anyone. Even though I know that what we had was not love, I still loved him.

"It's just hard seeing him like that." he sighs.

"I know." My heart tightens at how sad Felix sounds. He cares deeply about people, especially when it comes to his friends. He, Chan, and Hyunjin are like brothers so seeing Hyunjin in pain must be hard for him. "I can come over later, maybe we can watch a movie or something. It will help him get his mind off of her." I offer.

"Yeah sure, that sounds nice."

"I'll be there around 8."

"Okay"

"Bye Felix."

I've been practicing all morning and my feet are honestly killing me. After I came home I took a shower, trying to relax my sore muscles and I've been laying in my bed ever since. I've been switching between Netflix and my book for the past few hours until I finally decided to get ready. Today is one of those days that I would want nothing more than to bury myself under my sheets and not talk or see anyone and it sucks. I take a breath, leaving the comfort of my bed to start getting dressed. I don't do much, I throw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, deciding to bury myself under the thick clothing. I don't bother with makeup or my hair besides running my fingers through them a bit and I'm out of the door. I wrap my arms around my body and fasten my walk to the frat house. I somehow thought that I'd d be fine with just my hoodie, completely forgetting the fact that it's almost Christmas and it's freezing. At least the frat is only about 15 minutes away from our apartment. I reach the door and press the doorbell. Once, twice and as I'm about to press it for the third time, the cold air pushing me to my limits, the door opens and I freeze as I come face to face with his big, brown eyes. 

Close. He's standing so close.

"Fuck," I curse, placing my hand over my heart. "You scared me."

He opens the door a bit more, leaning into the doorway. "Lovely to see you too, angel."

My heart flatters at the sight of his smile but I push the thought away and my way through the door. "Stop calling me that."  I take my shoes off.

"Why? Do you like it that much?" His smile grows along with my annoyance. I'm annoyed cause in fact I think I kind of do. Or mostly I like what it does to me, the way it makes me feel. Then again maybe I like the fact that he cares enough to have a specific nickname for me. Not that I would know if he uses it with other women as well..

"What are you even doing here?" I walk to the stairs, searching for any sight of my friends.

"I happen to have friends who live here." He follows me.

"Funny." I reach the top of the stairs and turn to him. Why is he even following me? Where's everyone? I look around the first floor.

"I am." He chuckles, standing right in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest. The sleeves of his black hoodie are lifted up to his elbow. He has such nice hands, I think to myself.

"You are a lot of things." I mumble under my breath, peeling my eyes away from his body. Heat starts rising inside me. He's standing too close to me, with a stupid grin on his face, and none else around us. My walls are shaking, starting to slowly tear down in moments like this, where I could have a playful, simple conversation with him without burning anger building inside of me at the audacity of his cruel words. But I don't let myself relax too much, it's a matter of time before he snaps back on me.

"Oh, you have no idea." He breathes out, lowering his voice and head. He takes a few steps closer to me. What is he doing? My mind starts spinning, and all the possible things I can say or do run through my head but instead, I take a step to the left, pulling away for him.

"You smell." I say quickly and turn around and down the hall, not giving him a chance to say anything back.

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"Hey," I wrap my hands around him, bringing him into a tight hug. His hair is still a bit dump for his shower and the scent of his caramel body wash immediately hits my nose. "how are you doing?"

"Fine." He mumbles in the crook of my neck. "I just want everyone to stop treating me like I'm made of glass."

"We're just worried about you Hyunjin." Felix says, laying on his stomach on Hyunjin's bed. Huynjin releases me and throws himself beside Felix.

"All of you guys have been through a breakup. I guess it's my time." His eyes are still a bit bloodshot, probably from last night. Felix told me that he wouldn't stop crying. When I broke up with Jackson both Felix and Hyunjin were over at my apartment every single day, trying to make me feel better, in every way they could. There were times when I wouldn't even get out of bed so they would stay in bed with me and we would watch stupid reality shows and old Disney movies. They were there for me so now that Hyunjin's going through the same thing I wanna be there for him as much as I can as well.

"You know what?" I place my hands on my hips. "I think you did enough mopping over her cheating ass. It's time to get your mind off her." I try to brighten the mood.

Both Felix and Hyunjin give me questioning looks. "What do you mean?" Hyunjin's eyebrows frown. His face is so puffy from crying that he looks incredibly cute.

"Get up." I pull him by the hand off the bed. "Let's go downstairs, make some drinks and snacks, and watch a fun movie." I open the door, dragging Hyunjin with me. Felix follows, giggling.

I release him as soon as we enter the kitchen, his shoulders fall and he takes a seat on a stool. I pull my phone out of my pocket, I'm gonna need some help.

"You're literally in my house, why are you calling me?" Chan picks up immediately.

"Come downstairs, now." I say and hang up.

"Y/n, I don't know If I'm-"

"No," I lift my finger. "4 days after I broke up with Jackson you showed up at my door. Remember what I did?"

"You tried to slam the door in my face." He wipes his nose with his sleeve.

"But you didn't leave me alone." I circle the counter to stand in front of him. "You sat with me in my bed as I cried my heart out and you didn't say a word." I push a piece of his blonde hair that's falling in his eyes back. His eyes begin to fill with tears and his full lips turn into a thin line. I know that face. "Please don't cry." I wrap my arms around him, panicking.

"It's not my fault, why did you have to get all emotional and shit..." He mumbles in my chest.

Felix lets out a laugh from his leaning position across the counter. "You guys are so dramatic." He shakes his head. "I'll get started on the drinks and leave you two emotionally damaged people to bond over making snacks."

"What's going on?" Chan walks into the kitchen with Minho following right behind. 

"We're bonding." Hyunjin says, not lifting his head from my chest.

I giggle giving him one last squeeze before releasing him. "Okay enough with the crying, let's make some brownies." I clap my hands together.

"What are we doing exactly?" Minho asks, confusion written all over his face.

"We're making drinks and snacks, and then we're watching a movie to cheer Hyunjin up."  Felix walks over to them. "Wanna help with the drinks?" He asks Chan.

"Yeah, sure." He immediately accepts, knowing he's not really good at cooking.

"You can go too, I'm sure you wouldn't wanna spend time making brownies with me." Hyunjin gets off the stool and glares at Minho on his way to the fridge. I look between them dumbfounded. Have I missed something?

Minho takes a few steps further into the kitchen, slowly approaching the end of the counter, with his hands crossed. "Stop being dramatic." He rolls his eyes.

"You told me that I'm the most annoying person you've ever met." Hyunjin narrows his eyes.

My jaw falls open. "Minho!" I gasp.

He takes a breath. "I was joking obviously. You're clearly not THE most annoying person, have you met Changbin?" I wanna laugh at his terrible attempt to fix what he said to Hyunjin but I bite my lip to hold it and pull out a bowl to start mixing the ingredients.

"Whatever, you can stay, only cause I'm a nice person unlike you." A small smile dances on Hyunjin's lips. " I'll go look for a pan." He turns to me.

"Okay, I'll start mixing the wet ingredients." I nod, getting the sugar and a cup to measure everything in.

He nods back and walks to the small pantry that they have beside the kitchen. He stops behind Minho. "I know you like me, you can stop this enemies-to-lovers thing." He says close to his ear and Minho flinches.

I let out a laugh, that quickly disappears the minute I realize that we're alone in the kitchen. The pantry where Hyunjin went to look for a pan is just across the hall, but knowing Hyunjin it will take him more than 5 minutes to actually locate the pans. I focus my eyes on the bowl in front of me as I pour the butter over the sugar and begin mixing them, while Minho stands silently at the opposite side of the counter. I know for a fact that he will not even try to start a conversation or do anything to make this uncomfortable silence go away so I force myself to stay focused on my task and ignore him. The butter begins to blend smoothly with the sugar, which is a sign to put the eggs in. From the corner of my eye, I see him move. I straighten my back, not wanting to appear as intimidating as I am by his presence. He stops to my right, close enough for me to smell Chan's body wash; so he must have taken a shower here. I wait for him to say something, anything but he stays silent, simply observing. The side of my face feels like it's on fire from his intense staring and I being to grow uncomfortable.

"Um, can you bring the eggs?" I clear my throat but neither his body nor his eyes move. I shift my balance from one foot to another, my hand moving faster as I feel my anxiety peeking. I sigh, realizing that he's not going to help me at all so I stop mixing and turn to the fridge but before I have the time to take a single step, he moves past me, his shoulder brushing mine. I focus my eyes back on the bowl as he moves silently to the fridge and back. His movements remind me of a cat's. Soundless, precise, and confident, executed with a look of boredom all over their face.

"How many do we need?" For some reason the way he said 'we' made a smile almost appear on my lips.

"Um," I think about how many pieces will be enough for all of us to eat. " about 3."  I say and reach for an egg.

"Let me." He takes it from my hand, in a surprisingly gentle way, almost as gentle as his tone. He seems to be in a good mood, a good mood for him at least and I begin to wonder why. He cracks 2 of the eggs inside the bowl and I mix them with the rest of the ingredients.

"Do you bake a lot?" He suddenly asks. My hand slows down for a second, caught by surprise by his sudden question. I don't think that he's ever asked me a simple question like this.

"Um, yeah." I hesitantly answer.

"Hm," He nods, breaking the third egg. "It looks like you know what you're doing."

I shrug pouring the flour into the mixture. "I bake a lot when I'm stressed."

"Which is often I'm guessing." He smirks.

I try not to smile at his comment but my face warms up either way. His energy is oddly positive. He shifts his weight, leaning towards me and observing my moves. The way that my body is drawn to his is ridiculous and the thoughts that go through my head make everything worst. Silence takes over us once again and my eyes flicked to the door every 10 seconds, silently hoping for Hyunjin to finally come.

I hear him chuckle under his breath.

"What?" I turn to him.

He leans into the counter with both of his hands and shakes his half-wet hair out of his eyes. I swallow; fuck he's attractive.

He half-smiles, in such a boyish way. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

I look back down. "No." I lie

He leans back close to me, placing his hand next to my hip to my left trapping me like he did yesterday. I hold my breath as he looks over my shoulder, his chin almost touching it.

"I love making you nervous." His breath tickles my neck and chills spread down my spine and arms. He dips his finger into the mixture and brings it to his lips. My eyes follow the way his finger disappears into his mouth, his full lips sucking on it in a way that makes my legs grow closer.

His eyes lighten up. "Shit, this is good." He dips his finger again.

I let out a breath, relieved to see his attention turn to the brownies. "Really?"

"Yeah, try some." He takes some more on his finger and brings it to my lips.

I freeze. "No thanks." I awkwardly smile.

He frowns. "You made it, you have to try. " He pushes his finger closer to my lips.

"Minho, said no." I say a little louder, grabbing his wrist. I feel him stiffen, his eyes fall to my grip and then back to my eyes. My stomach drops. I dip the finger of my other hand into the mixture and drag it across his cheek, distracting him. His eyes widen, clearly not expecting that and I can't help but I laugh at his face.

"You're dead." His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek with a straight face.

He takes some more of the mixture and I turn around about to run but his hand sneaks around my waist pulling me back. My back hits his chest and I feel his finger spreading the brownie dough all over my cheek.

I bring my hands up to cover my face but he fights me with his free hand. "Minho, stop! " I try to sound annoyed but I giggle instead.

"You started it. " He laughs back and I swear it is one of the most lovely sounds I've ever heard. Even if I can't see him from my position, I can picture the smile on his face.

I kinda wish I could freeze this moment as well.

"Can you guys stop playing with my breakup brownies? " Hyunjin groans, finally entering the kitchen with 3 different pans in his hands. We both freeze but Minho's the one that moves away first. Almost too fast and sharper than I would like as if he hadn't realized what was happening until it was interrupted. His face drops any emotions that previously held and he goes to grab the pans from Hyunjin.

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"Hyunjin let's just start the movie. The brownies will be ready in a few minutes." Felix groans but Hyunjin shakes his head. Everyone has taken a seat on the large couch in the living room. Felix and Chan made Margaritas for all of us and after a lot of fighting, we decided to watch 'The Conjuring'. We were just about to start the movie but Hyujin refuses to watch anything until his brownies are ready.

"I said no." He stands his ground.

I give Felix a sympathetic look, knowing that Hyunjin is slowly bringing him to his limit, and get up. "Fine, I'll go check on the brownies." I walk back into the kitchen and kneel in front of the oven, checking if the brownies are ready. They could use a little more baking but I pull them out anyway.

"Hello, love" Kai, one of the other boys that live here enters the kitchen. There are 5 guys in total in the Frat, Hyunjin, Chan, Felix, Kai, and Jace. Kai is the one I like the most after the boys cause Jace can be a bit of an ass.

"Hi, Kai." I smile at him.

"What's going on? Are you guys having a movie night?" It's not often that either of them is home but whenever they are, they always stay locked up in their rooms. Kai sometimes comes downstairs to say hi to me or Emma and maybe hang out a bit with us so I'm definitely closer to him. He's quite tall, with messy blonde hair and the most perfect dimples I have ever seen.

"Yep." I begin to cut the brownies into squares.

"Fuck, they look delicious." He leans over the pan. "Can I have some?"

"Y/n." Both of our heads snap to the doorway where Minho is standing. His gaze moves between Kai and me. He must have a fucking radar or something. "Do you need any help?"

"Um-"

"Hey, man." Kai greeds Minho as he approaches the counter.

"How you've been Kai?" He pats Kai's back with a nod and walks past him to stand right beside me. Oh, so they know each other.

"Busy." he lets out a breathy laugh. "I'm happy that the semester's over."

Minho gives him an understanding nod and then copies Kai's previous position, leaning over my shoulder, and looking at the brownies. "They look good." He drags out in a low voice. I realize what he's doing and I have to stop the smile that threatens to form on my lips. He only seems to care about me whenever another person's involved. It does bother me but at the same time, I can't really stop myself from craving his attention in any way that I get it. I know it sounds weird but I want him to look at me, I want his eyes to search the room for me and I want him to be disappointed when I'm not there.

I take a breath and put a soft smile on my lips. I cut a small piece of brownie and move away from Minho's grip. "Here," I turn to Kai. "Try some."

He opens his mouth, taking the brownie from between my fingers with his lips. My back is completely turned to Minho, but I see Kai's eyes flicker behind me for a second.

"Oh, my god." He groans with his mouth full.

"How is it?" I place all the pieces on a large plate.

"It's incredible." He nods his head, with his eyes closed.

"What about me?" Minho puts his elbows on the counter, bringing his face right in front of mine. "I wanna try too." 

"You have hands." I take the plate in my hands and turn around, avoiding to look his way, while Kai's trying to hold his laughter but he's failing. "I'll see you around Kai." I exit the kitchen.

"Fucking finally," Hyunjin yells as I put the plate in the middle of the coffee table and I fall back to my seat beside Chan.

"I know that he's heartbroken and all but I swear I'm gonna murder him." Felix leans behind Chan's back and whispers to me. I cover my mouth with my hand trying to hold my laughter, Hyunjin can be too much when he's not in a good mood but if Felix has reached his limits the situation's bad. My laugh is cut short when I feel someone sitting beside me.

"You're not seating here." I lean a bit closer to whisper to him while keeping my eyes forward and the small smile on my lips that tries to hide the panic of Minho staying beside me for almost 2 hours. "I wanna watch the movie."

"None's stopping you, angel." Minho lifts both of his eyebrows at me before taking a brownie from the plate and popping it into his mouth.

"Okay, now we can begin the movie." Hyunjin takes 4 brownies and leans back, happily.

Felix shakes his head and presses play. I sigh and grab the blanket from the back of the couch, unfolding it.

"Are you cold?" Minho asks, without looking at me.

"She can't watch a movie without a blanket or something to cover her. " Chan explains. "She's weird like that."

"Shut up." I bring the blanket up to my shoulders. "Pass me my margarita."

I hold my hand out but he shakes his head. "Nope. No alcohol for you."

"What? Why?" I frown.

He shoots me a glare. "I think you know why."

I drop my hand, understanding. He takes a brownie from the plate and holds it out to me but I shake my head, as always.

"Then no alcohol." he shrugs.

"Guys, shut up ." Hyunjin turns up the volume. "The movie's starting."

I sigh once again and bury myself under the blanket, forcing my eyes on the tv. This is gonna be a long movie.

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Minho's hand has been resting on the back of the couch for 25 minutes straight, and the right side of his body is so close to me, that his thigh is brushing mine every now and then, so it's hard to focus on anything else. He, on the other hand, is perfectly still, completely invested in the movie. I can't help but let my eyes flicker to him every few minutes and the more I do the more I realize that he has the most perfect side profile. Everything from his now completely dry hair to his long black eyelashes that stand tall over his huge eyes to his perfectly straight nose to the curve of his full lips. His face holds no expression. He occasionally lets his lips turn into a small smile when a funny scene comes up or his eyebrows frown when something intrigues him. He doesn't smile that often, he doesn't show much emotion in general and I wonder if it's because we're not that close yet for him to open up or if that's the way he is as a person. From what Chan has told me, Minho is really closed off and it takes time for him to open up to someone. The memories of our talks make their way through my mind yet again, almost causing me to smile. I loved the way he talked; as if I wasn't even there, as if he was talking to himself, letting out all of his thoughts. I loved those moments. It was the first time that I felt understood, in a way. I've been hiding a lot of things, too ashamed to admit the real story of my childhood, the toxic and abusive relationship I stayed in for almost a year, or the sides of myself that even I am disgusted by. The mess that I grew up to be, even though I swore to myself that I would be different. I'm so grateful that I found Chan. It was a time when I really needed someone to be there for me, and he didn't hesitate a second. He was there every time. Through me screaming and yelling, crying, falling classes, not leaving my room or eating anything for days. He had the patience that none had with me growing up. He stayed by my side, waiting, allowing me to take my time but never leaving. I have opened up to him about a lot but still, even from him, I keep things. There are times when I feel like shit. I sit with all these people that are almost like family to me and present myself as someone I'm not, allowing only the side of myself that's not messed up, damaged, or fucked to be seen. So when Minho opened up to me about his childhood, I felt like I wasn't alone in a way. Maybe it was the alcohol but he didn't hide that side of him from me and that made me not wanna hide mine either.

I hadn't realized how long I'd been staring at him, drowning in my thoughts until his eyes turned to mine, and I almost choked. He looked back at the screen with a small smile and moved a bit closer to me. Thank fucking god that the lights are almost off cause I'm pretty sure I look like a tomato. I feel the hand that he has resting behind me, inching closer until his fingers brush my shoulder. A wave of chills runs through my whole body, but I try not to show any emotion on my face. He laughs under his breath and removes his hand from behind me, but just as I'm about to finally let out a breath of relief, I feel his hand moving to my thigh under the blanket and when his hand grips my thigh, I clear my throat.

What is he doing?

"What?" Chan turns to me.

"Nothing." I quickly brushed him off. "Can you pass me some water?" He grabs a bottle of water from the table and gives it to me.

"Thanks" I bring it to my mouth. I can feel Minho's eyes on me, as I'm gulping down the water. I finish almost the whole bottle and give it back to Chan. His fingers start moving upwards and he leans back. His touch is so foreign yet so relieving in a way. Like I've been starving for ages and he just offered me food. He has never touched me in such a way and my skin starts to feel hot under his hand.

"Thirsty?" He whispers in my ear.

Jesus.

I fight a smile by pushing my lips together, but when his fingers inch closer to my core, I shallow so hard that it's almost audible. My legs move closer together, almost closing his hand between them but he moves it closer and closer to where I suddenly need him to. I bite my lip finally squeezing my thighs together, trying to bring his fingers even closer. He lets out a bearly audible laugh and tightens his grip. I let out a breath in frustration, suddenly grateful for how loud the movie is.

"Patience angel." I don't look at him but I bet his lips are in a smug ass grin.

God, I haven't been touched in that way for so long that I've forgotten how it feels, the burning in my lower belly or the aching between my legs.

"I told you not to call me that." The nickname sparks something inside me I place my hand on his thigh as well, turning to look at him. His smile slowly drops and my hand moves higher. Now it's my time to smile. Deep breaths are coming in and out of his nose. His hand rests on my thigh, not moving.

"Stop." He growls under his breath.

"No, you stop." I whisper to his ear, cupping his crotch. "I'm not a doll you can play with whenever you like." He draws his tongue over his bottom lip and then takes it between his teeth.

I wanna do that.

I tighten my hand around his dick, feeling him twitch in my palm. He turns to look at me, his eyes shifting under the dime lights, it's like they sparked, and with each second passing, they challenged me more and more. His gaze dropped to my lips and my heart started pouting in my chest, as he leaned forward. I immediately pulled my hand away and turned to my previous position, facing the tv.

"That's what I thought." He smirked and returned to his previous position as well, with his hand behind my head.

I stayed quiet for the rest of the movie, too stunned about what happened. Every time I'm near him, it's like my body has a mind of its own. He makes me act like a completely different person. I get overwhelmed and every time I need more and more. As the movie was playing, I slowly came to the realization of how much I am actually attracted to him. I haven't allowed myself to recognize my feelings for him, too caught up in everything that has been happening but it's easy for me to also realize how stupid it is of me to have any actual feelings for someone like him. Minho only likes to tease and annoy me, simply entertaining his own needs, so I force myself to stop thinking that it's anything more than that.

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"That was a fucking good movie." Felix stretches his hands. I blink several times, realizing that the movie has finished.

"Hyunjin fell asleep," Chan whispers with a grin across his face and everyone's head snaps to Hyunjin.

"Aww" I lift myself off of the couch and grab my phone to snap a picture of his sleeping face.

"I'll take him upstairs." Chan gets up and I begin to clean the coffee table.

"I'll help," Felix says. We gather everything and take the plates and glasses back to the kitchen.

"Are you staying here?" Felix asks while loading the dishwasher.

I shake my head "I think I'll head home in a few."

"I'll drive you." Minho walks into the kitchen, engaging in our conversation out of nowhere. This dude is everywhere, I swear.

"I can walk thanks." I offer him a tight smile.

"Y/n." Felix says in a scolding tone. "It's past midnight. It's better if Minho drives you."

"I'll be fine." I stand my ground.

Minho makes eye contact with me from the other side of the island. "I'm driving you home." He states and leaves the kitchen.

Felix takes a look over his shoulder to make sure he's gone and then gives me a knowing smile.

"No, stop." I defend immediately.

He lifts his hands. "I didn't say anything."

"Shut up, I know what you're thinking." I narrow my eyes.

"You're going to fuck at some point." He shrugs. "Bet."

"Felix! " I squeal, looking around to see if anyone has heard him.

"Just sayin'."

"I'm going home, bye." I raise my voice on purpose and he laughs. I make my way back to the living room to put my shoes on.

"You wanna go now?" Minho asks from the couch.

"I said I'll walk."

"Stop being so fucking stubborn," He grabs his phone from the coffee table and walks to me. "It's late and I have a car."

"Who says that I wanna be in a car with you?"

He lifts his eyebrows, almost like he's challenging me. "You got into Jeongin's car."

There we go.

"Jeongin's fun to be around." I shoot and his face breaks into a grin.

He says bye to Chan and walks up to me until only I'm able to hear him. "I can be plenty of fun." His voice drops. "Grab your stuff, I'll be waiting outside." He puts his shoes on in a swift motion and walks out the door.

I smile to myself, 'cause despite what I said, I really wanna be in a car with him. I walk back to the couch. "Bye Chan." I wrap my arms around his shoulders from the back.

"Bye, princess." He kisses my arm.

When I step out of the house the cold air hits me immediately, forcing me to lift my hands and wrap them around my upper body for support. Minho's leaning against his car, a cigarette between his lips. I've never really found smoking attractive but there's something about the way he does it, that it does seem, kinda attractive, I guess.

"So Jeongin's fun huh?" He blows out some smoke.

"He is actually." I keep my face straight and when I reach him I take his cigarette and bring it to my lips, but before I have a chance to take a hit he snaps it back.

"Not a chance."

"Why not?" I pout.

"Dancers don't smoke."

"That's bullshit." I scoff. "Besides, you're a dancer."

His eyes light up. "Fine. If you want it, come and get it." He takes a long drag and leans forward, holding the smoke in his mouth. His action is unexpected, sparking excitement inside me. 

"No thank you." I bring my lips to a tight line, understanding what he meant. He laughs and blows out the smoke. "Can we go? I'm cold." I shiver, causing his eyes to trail down my body, probably noticing that I don't have a jacket on and I shift under his gaze feeling uncomfortable. I hate it when people look that intensely at my body.

"Sure." He throws the cigarette on the ground, stepping on it. He unlocks the car and I let out a sigh of relief, once I'm inside.

He starts the car.

"Seatbelt," He says, exactly like he did the last time I was in his car. I reach for the seatbelt and put it on. 

The corner of his mouth lifts. "Good girl." 

My body tenses up. "Stop with the pet names." I manage to say.

He smirks." You love them."

"I don't"

"I can see the way your body reacts every time I call you something, you know." His eyes flicker to me.

"I hate you." I shake my head, not having anything to say back. I don't really know how to speak to him when he's like this. I don't know how we went from fighting to flirting, but I can't help this weird feeling that I shouldn't let myself enjoy it too much. This is dangerous territory. The thin line between playful fighting and flirting, and I'm not really sure if I should cross it or not.

He rests his head back. "Sure you do."

The dime light from the street lights falls on him perfectly. One hand gripping the wheel and the other resting on the closed window. Even the way he's driving is attractive and I let myself study him a bit more. I try to focus on the small details I notice about him, like the way his hands handle the wheel or the way his eyes move around the streets, alarmed yet relaxed in a way. I notice that as he focuses on the road, his lips pout slightly and his eyebrows frown.

"You're staring again." He says with a completely straight face and my eyes snap back to the road.

 "So, how do you know Kai?

His question takes me by surprise. "Um, I've seen him around the frat." He simply nods. "Checking out the competition?" I tease.

His teeth make an appearance. "There's no competition angel."

"You're so full of yourself." I scoff

He shrugs with a smile. "I'm just confident. I grew up having to fight for everything I've ever wanted. That made me rely on myself and myself only and soon I realized that if I try hard enough I can get anything I want."

This conversation took a huge turn and I find myself staring again, remembering everything he told me that night. "I'm the exact opposite." I turn to the road. "I'm one of those people who no matter how hard they try will always fail and I've reached a point where I've failed so many times that it makes me believe that maybe, I'm just not enough."

He keeps his eyes on the road. "You're more than enough. All of us are. There are always gonna be people that are going to make you feel like that, parents, friends, lovers, even yourself. But in the end, there's no such thing as being enough for anything. You're simply you. And that's more than enough."

I stare at his side profile as I let his words sink in and my heart warms. "How do you do that?" I honestly ask.

"How do I do what?" He glances at me only for a second.

"You're so confusing. How can you act like a complete dick one second and the next talk to me like that?"

At that, he laughs. "That's how I'll get you to be obsessed with me."

It's kinda working.

"No. That's how you'll get me to murder you."

He laughs again. He looks so different when he laughs. There's something addictive to the sight and for some reason, I wanna make him laugh again.

"I have a question. " I say.

His face twitches with interest. "If you ask one, I'll ask on."

"Deal." I fight a smile and clear my throat. I don't know when I'll ever get a chance like this again, so I think deeply. "Why did you quit dancing and turned to music?" There are so many things I wanna ask him. Like what he thinks about me, if he's ever been in love or his dreams about the future. I wanna get to know everything about him but I don't wanna push him. It seems like he's thinking about it cause he's biting the inside of his cheek, something I've seen him do before.

"I just couldn't." He finally said after 23 seconds of silence, which I counted out of anxiety that maybe I pushed him too far with my question. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself. "I was in a shitty place and I was a fucked up mess. I couldn't dance anymore cause I had nothing to express. Growing up I found myself going to the dance studio as an escape. All the anger and fear and absolute sadness I would hold inside, I would release through dancing. But at some point in my life, it became too much and I grew completely...numb, in a way. I couldn't dance anymore cause I wasn't able to feel anything. I was bearly alive."

I watch him carefully, the urge to simply touch him out of sympathy growing by the second. I wonder how much pain he holds inside. I'm dying to get to know him.

"Jisung was the one that introduced me to music." He continues. " He came into my life when I thought that I was done. If I didn't have him I probably wouldn't be alive right now. He was studying in Rome, forced by his parents into a career that he didn't want. He was suffering from depression and anxiety and couldn't do it anymore, so he left and came here."

I would have never imagined that such a bright person would have such a hard backstory, but then again the kindest people are the ones that have suffered the most. "How did you guys meet?"

He smiles just a little. "At a party, a frat party actually. It was my first year in college, as a dance major along with my sister. I was drunk, and got in a fight with some dude after I tried to fuck his girl."

I scranch my nose in diguast. "You're an ass."

"I didn't know." He rolls his eyes. "Plus she was the one that was rubbing her ass on my dick the whole night."

His vulgar words disturb me. "Continue." I clear my throat.

"Anyway, I passed out on the bathroom floor, completely wasted, and somehow the next day I woke up on a couch at an apartment I didn't know. Jisung took me to his and Seungmin's place. I will not go into detail but after that, he somehow became my best friend."

"Wait, they were living together?" I ask.

He nods. "Yeah, they were friends for years and when Jisung dropped out Seungmin offered him to come and live with him."

I feel like I'm missing something. "How old are you?" I turn to him.

He looks at me with a smirk. "I'm 25."

What?

My eyes widen. "How the fuck are you 25?"

He laughs at my shocked expression. "I told you, I was a dance major for 2 years until I switched. Jisung started studying music and it pulled me in immediately. Then in my second year, Chan started collecting us like Pokemon and now here we are."

I shake my head. "Wow." There's so much I still don't know about these boys. Each and every one of them has his own story yet somehow Chan managed to bring 5 different people together through music.

"My turn." He says.

"Your turn has to wait." I smile as he reaches my apartment complex. He stops the car and I remove my seatbelt. I try to open the door but it's locked.

"Unlock the car." I turn to meet his gaze. He's leaning against his car door, keeping one hand on the wheel.

"I'll ask my question first." His voice echoes through the car.

I bit my lip, fully understanding the situation that I'm in right now. Trapped in his car, with his eyes and full attention on me. "Fine, ask away."

He focuses on my face, searching and studying. "Are you still in love with him?"

I stiffen, knowing exactly who he's talking about. Even though he's the only one who knows about me and Jackson, the times that we've actually talked about it are few. In any other case, I would have avoided any question about him but it's something this specific question that made me straighten my back. "No," I say with full honesty. "And I don't think I was ever truly in love with him if I'm being honest."

"You weren't," He says, his voice strong and stable. "What you had, what he gave you, wasn't love." He spits the last words as if it's a joke.

"Maybe it's the love I deserved." My voice drops lower, almost to a whisper.

His head snapped in my direction and I immediately lower my head, suddenly not brave enough to look him in the eye.

"Look at me." He demands.

I shake my head. I can't, I feel too exposed right now. More than I've ever had in front of anyone other than Jackson or Chan.

His hand finds my jaw and grips it tightly, turning my head to him. His eyes are burning but the muscles on his face are relaxed. He leans closer, and my heart starts beating faster.

"I really hope I could prove you wrong." His thumb brushes my cheek.

Freeze, freeze, freeze. I wish I could freeze this moment. Make it last.

I hold my breath. " Why can't you?"

His eyes shift as he tilts his head to the side. His hand moves to the side of my face, brushing some of the stray hairs away, pushing them behind my ear. I feel myself leaning into his touch.

"Cause you deserve better than I can offer you."

The words feel heavy, in my heart, in my chest, and in my stomach so I drop my eyes, nodding several times. Somehow I knew that that was gonna be the case. From the moment I first saw him, I somehow knew that he carried a lot with him and as much as my feelings are pushing me towards him, I'm not in a place where I can get involved with someone that can't offer me all of him.

"I get it." I pull away from his touch.

"Y/n.." He sighs.

I grab my bag and open the door. He tries to grab my wrist. "No," I shake my head. "Stop confusing me." I sharply say. "I won't do this back and forth again. You either want something or you don't. So since you don't, please leave me alone." I get out of his car, my legs move as fast as they can up the stairs to my apartment and the moment I slam the door shut, the tears make their way down my cheeks silently.

[x-ceirios-x]

run to the things they said could restore me

frustrated with the search for camille, magnus takes a break from the institute's search for her and reconnects with members of the ashfair family he hasn't seen in ages. he is finally able to face aric, who sheds some light on the full story of his wife's death and the children's move to new york.

part two of a series about the ashfair family and their history. prev | next

cw: mention of character death, alcohol consumption (briefly), discussion of grief and anxiety, mention of losing a child. heavy angst with a bit of a resolution

Magnus had a headache. 

Besides his current relationship issues and his constant worry about Alec, he was pulled away from a conversation where he felt like they finally had a breakthrough, only to search for Camille, who’d miraculously broken out of the Sanctuary at the Institute. If he had half a mind, he might have phoned a friend with better knowledge in tracking than he had, but he thought Eleanor would kill him if he tried. Maybe not literally, but she would certainly be angry about helping Shadowhunters, especially Lightwoods. And Desmin couldn’t keep secrets from his sister to save his life, so that ruled out the twins. 

He needed a drink, actually, is what he needed. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Maryse,” he said with a sense of finality. “You can’t Track vampires and I have no other information for you. I don’t know what she’s been involved with, or who, and I know she’s not stupid enough to try the Dumort.”

Maryse let out an exasperated sigh. “I understand. We need to check out her old haunts, though, like that apartment you mentioned—Andromeda—” 

“On it,” she said, already standing and prepared to leave. Before she’d sat down in the library, she’d changed out of her party dress in exchange for Shadowhunter gear; thick black pants, a black tee and a jacket that was covered in little pockets, paired with the several sheathes she had on. She was planning on getting into the field but like this, she looked much more professional and he felt like he could take her seriously. She wasn’t some sorority girl there to get on his nerves and have randomly good advice, but a well-trained Shadowhunter worthy of the Herondale name. Well, the last part was to be determined. She exited the library without another word, leaving him alone with Maryse. 

Not wanting to deal with that, he found a quick excuse to not stay there. Anything but being alone with his boyfriend’s mother, anything but that. “I’m going to stretch my legs,” he said, pushing himself away from the desk and standing up with an exaggerated stretch. “Won’t be long.”

She waved him off without argument, her face buried in one hand. He left quickly, heading into the hallway and deciding he’d wander for five minutes or so—maybe a eureka! moment would hit him and he’d suddenly realize where Camille was hiding, though he doubted it. He meandered down the hall until he saw someone else in the hallway, exiting a room down the hall a short ways. He recognized him immediately—not because he’d seen him recently, but because Jensen Ashfair was the spitting image of his mother, just a bit shorter. 

He stopped in the doorway and gave a small, shy  wave. He didn’t remember Jensen ever being bashful, as he acted like a toddler-sized bull in a china shop any time he visited, causing chaos and loud noises anywhere he went. If they took a walk or went to the park, he said hello to anyone and everyone who would smile at him. Then again, Alec had told him how close he was with the youngest Lightwood boy, Max. Grief changed people, as did time. Magnus smiled at him in return and carefully approached. 

“Hello,” he said, mirroring his awkward little wave. “You’re Jensen, right? Rowan’s brother?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And you’re Alec’s boyfriend.”

He chuckled and nodded, trying his best to remember all the little things anyone had off-handedly mentioned about the boy. “That I am, that I am,” he said. He liked books, just like Rowan, but he didn’t know what kind. Just his luck, behind the boy’s back he saw something—maybe something that would help him. “What do you have there?”

Jensen shrugged and held it out to him, showing him the cover. It was one of those Japanese graphic novels that got popular in the last decade or so. Based on the cover, it looked like it was about pirates. “One Piece,” he said, reading the cover. “You know, I’m always looking for something new to read. Is it any good?”

“I like it. Simon showed me how to read it.” He spoke carefully and quietly, anxiety clear in his shoulders and tense grip on the book. Not fear, just a general sense of nervousness that he saw clearly in Rowan and their father. Family ties, and all that. “It’s backwards from a regular book. You read it back to front and right to left.”

“Is that so?” he asked, sticking one hand behind him in an attempt to summon something for the boy. Behind his back, blue sparks crackled as he found the object he was looking for: a figurine of the main character. Now that he’d seen it, he remembered seeing something similar in a second-hand store, and it was small enough that no one would miss it. “Well, strangely enough, I’ve got this—” he pulled out the figure, offering it to him— “right with me. Would you like it?”

His eyes lit up, just for a fraction of a second, and the green in his eyes shone like emeralds. “For me?”

“For you,” he said, letting the boy take it from him. “I hope you like it.”

Jensen nodded gratefully. “I do. Thank you…uh, what’s your name again?”

His chest contracted and Magnus felt like a piece of his heart broke off. He was so young and everything was no doubt clouded by grief—of course he didn’t remember him. “Magnus,” he said, forcing a smile. “Magnus is fine.”

He nodded. “Well, thanks, Magnus.” Slightly more confident, he waved and walked past him, down the hall and into the elevator. The little boy he watched through his babbling toddler stage, the terrible twos, and even his fourth birthday, had not a clue who he was besides Alec’s boyfriend. Alec’s boyfriend was a perfectly wonderful thing to be, he loved that boy more than life itself. He wished he could convince him of that. But that was all he was to young Jensen Ashfair, now twelve by his calculations. 

Magnus, continuing his search for anything to do other than sit in the library until Andromeda came back, turned the corner into the room Jensen had just come out of. It was the kitchen, where, to his surprise, sat Aric Ashfair at the small table in the corner. He looked up, just for a moment, and gaped at him once he realized who stood in front of him. 

“Magnus,” he said, his voice low. He sounded tired. “Maryse called you for help with the Camille situation?”

“She did.” He spoke carefully, his voice tense. Now wasn’t the best time to begin an argument, but he had very limited patience and that was the path his recent dealings with Aric took.

He nodded silently. Aric stood and began shuffling through some high cabinets, ones that most children would stay out of due to height alone. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from the next cabinet over. Well, there was that drink he was looking for. He didn’t ask, just poured them each one and handed him his. Magnus took it gratefully and took a sip, though his eyes never left Aric. 

He was duller than the last time they’d spoken. All these years as the Clave’s lackey had worn on him, as was evident from the bags under his eyes and the gray in his hair. If he remembered correctly, he wasn’t even forty yet—he was much too young to look as broken as he did. He thought the same thing about Rowan, though he’d never voice such opinions. 

“We have a lot to talk about,” he said carefully. “Do you think Maryse will mind if you stay for a minute?”

“I generally try to appease her, but frankly, I could not care less about what Maryse Lightwood wants with me right now,” he said, gesturing vaguely with his g lass. “What is it you would like to talk about?”

Aric winced at the hostility in his voice. “I meant to get ahold of you after the party in Idris, but I got busy training Clary and you were off on your vacation—a well deserved one, I heard—“

“Skip the flattery, Aric, you were never one for small talk,” he said, becoming irritated and bored with his words. He was silent, so instead, Magnus took the opportunity to push the real reason they were here. “You had eight years,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “eight years to reach out, to say anything. But you didn’t. Why?”

The look that crossed his face saddened him enough to almost make him feel guilty for being so angry; this was too many years of anger held back for him to consider that seriously. “I still can’t talk about her,” he muttered. He looked incredibly small in the moment—broken. Despite his professional, high strung, and sometimes intimidating demeanor, he never looked more destroyed. “I can’t…I never even told Alice and Jensen what actually happened, I had Jia—” 

He cut himself off before his voice cracked worse, quickly wiping his eyes to look like he’d pulled himself together. Magnus just stared at him, that sense of anger and disappointment never fading from his face. “I have made a lot of bad choices in my life, Magnus, and I have reparations to make. I understand that.”

“Start with your children,” he said. “I talked to Rowan. I told them everything I knew—they weren’t just angry, they were hurt.” Magnus took a sip of his drink, gathering his courage to say all the things he’d ever wished he could tell him. This might be his only chance. “Did you know they came to me, wanting to know if there was a memory spell placed on them like what I did for Jocelyn?” he asked. Aric’s mouth opened slightly in surprise but he didn’t give him an opportunity to get a word in. “They wanted to remember me, remember Mollie, remember you before you left them!”

There was a beat of silence. A pause, where his words hung in the air, and where Aric let them sink in. “I wanted them to forget,” he said, choosing his words cautiously. 

Magnus fired back, a sudden anger rising through him. “You deserted your eight and four year old in a city they’d never been before, with people they’d only met a few times, to deal with the fact that their mother was never coming back to them by themselves! Did you think that was fair?”

Aric matched his tone and arguably pushed it further. “I didn’t know what else to do!” 

It was a rare day that quiet, calm-tempered Aric ever raised his voice. He worked in the shadows, never drawing attention to himself, preferring to see Mollie shine when they were together. Knowing this, he took a step back, leaning against the wall, and let him talk. 

“I-I didn’t know what else—“ Aric gasped for a quick breath and set his drink down on the counter behind him. He held his head in his hands; for a moment, Magnus wondered if he’d gone too far but he quickly deserted the thought. This, as uncomfortable as it was, would get him answers of some kind. Answers to why—why he found out about one of his greatest friend’s deaths not from her husband, but from another one of his friends who just happened to hear; why Aric had decided to leave his children in New York with the Lightwoods when, if he would have called, he would have been there in a heartbeat for him; and why it took him eight years to face him for his actions. 

Magnus stared at him, his gaze softening just slightly—not enough that anyone would notice. “What you had with Mollie was something I have seen very few times in my long life, Aric. And I understood how it broke you. I…” He trailed off, his thoughts turning to Alec. Now he understood what that pain would be like because he genuinely believed he found someone that made him feel like Aric loved Mollie, and Will loved Tessa. An indescribable love that was earth-shattering to lose. “She’s not gone, Aric. She’s still here—in Rowan’s stubbornness and their cleverness, their insistence on being exactly who they are and refusing to apologize for it. I’ve seen it, even in the last few months. I see Jensen, who looks so much like her, it’s uncanny. You just have been too stuck in your grief to realize that she’s all around you, and I wonder what that grief is going to do to you.”

Aric stared at him, silent, his eyes shining with tears that he held back with as much strength as he could muster. It was quiet, his words hanging in the air heavily, until he finally found his words to speak up. “It’s ruined me, Magnus,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I lost Jeremy, then Céline, then Mollie—and now one of my children won’t even talk to me, I—” He sucked in a harsh breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t know what to do when she died. I couldn’t—I couldn’t get out of bed, I wouldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep; Jia and Patrick did their best for us, but they were grieving, too. I sent the kids to live with Maryse because I kept getting worse instead of better. I was angry, I-I was depressed, I started drinking, and I didn’t want either of them to see me like that.”

Magnus’s breath shuddered. He hadn’t known how Aric coped with all this, but part of it made sense. It didn’t excuse everything he did, but he was willing to give him the slightest more grace for it. More than he ever thought he would. There was still something he didn’t understand: “why didn’t you call me?” Magnus asked, his voice unsteady, despite how much he tried. “I would have helped you, Aric. I would do anything for your family, even if Mollie wasn’t here anymore.”

“I know. I know that, and I knew that then, I just…” he took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, and by the time I was in my right mind enough to start working again, the kids were settled in New York, Jensen had Max and Alice had Alec—they found their family. I realized they were better here, with people that could give them a family rather than the fraction of one waiting for them with me.”

He nodded solemnly. As much as he hated to admit he could be right about this, grief did strange things to people, as did any strong emotion. He remembered his years in London, struggling with his own demons, where the simplest thing could turn his world upside down and send him into a spiral. 

Aric continued after a beat. “I—I never told anyone this, not even Jia and Patrick,” he started, speaking like he was struggling with the words. He grabbed his drink off the counter and downed the rest of it—it was a bit impressive, actually—before he continued. “Mollie was pregnant again, when everything happened.” 

His words shook Magnus to his core. “You—she what?” he asked, covering his gaping mouth with his hand. 

“There were some issues with Jensen, so she didn’t want to tell anyone until she had to. We had just found out it was a girl, too, and our bedroom was just covered in baby name books.” He almost laughed, a wry chuckle that sounded like it hurt. “We were thinking about Victoria, but we never…” 

Aric sniffled and rubbed his eyes, very clearly trying to keep himself together in front of him. It had never been like him to show weakness, not to anyone. He always suspected that was why Mollie loved him so much—she was one of the few who he let past the walls he had around himself. From what he knew, he had them before they even met but she managed to crash through them in a way only she could. 

Both heard footsteps coming down the hall, towards the kitchen. They both paused for a moment, waiting to see who was there; Maryse stepped inside the room and looked between the two. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked.

Magnus opened his voice to respond but Aric beat him to it. “Not at all,” he said, sitting up a little straighter. “News on Camille?”

She shook her head. “Andy is on her way back from checking out her apartment uptown. She’s not there.” Maryse sighed, though she focused on Aric for a moment, diverting her attention from the missing vampire situation. She took another few steps forward, and looked at him as if she was inspecting his face. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice suddenly softer. 

He nodded. “Fine, yeah.” 

She frowned slightly and carefully, more careful than Magnus had seen her do anything, brushed a bit of hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear. “Aric—”

He caught her hand in a loose grip, his gaze flickering from Maryse, to him, and back. “I’ll meet you in the library in a moment,” he said softly. “Just a moment.”

She took his words as they were and nodded, leaving the kitchen without argument. Aric looked at him anxiously, then at the floor like he was avoiding his gaze. 

Magnus smiled softly. “I am the last person that is going to judge you for moving past your loss, Aric,” he said. “Through it all, I silently hoped you would after a few years—because you deserve to be happy. That’s all I will say about that.”

His eyes widened slightly and he stammered, trying to find his words. “There’s nothing going on—”

He held his hand up to stop him—there was no sense in arguing about this, as he wasn’t going to share anything with anyone until he and Maryse were ready to. As far as he was concerned, he hadn’t witnessed anything. It wasn’t important right now, either. “I don’t care what Rowan says,” he said. “I know they want you in their life. They’re just angry right now. You have to be vulnerable enough to show them that you love them because they feel you don’t. Prove them wrong.”

He nodded and pushed himself off the counter. He started to leave, but stopped when he got to Magnus. “I’m sorry. For everything—truly.”

“I see that now,” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I’m not the one you have to convince. And…just calling them Rowan will go a long way. They prefer their middle name. Just use it.”

“I haven’t even began to think about that,” he admitted. “But you’re right. I’ll, ah…I’ll work on that.”

Magnus offered him an encouraging smile, and even though it was small, he received one in return. Aric left to the library again to assist Maryse with the hunt for Camille, which he supposed he should be involved with too, but he had too much on his mind to think about that right away. He hadn’t forgiven Aric, not entirely, but he did believe he was lost without the love of his life and made poor choices because of it. He knew many men like that through the course of his life, some of which he still knew now. 

He drank the rest of the whiskey and left his glass on the counter, next to Aric’s, and made his way back into the Sanctuary to look for anything that might help them find Camille. 

[cator99]

There was a party of 20 people at my work tonight that was mostly russians all very slaylicious people and I don't know how to describe it but they had a very specific very cohesive vibe and I have never seen more Russian group of people in my entire life no that's not true I had a Russian friend growing up and her mother was a very wealthy veryyy stylish Russian criminal defense lawyer with very russian friends and one time she sat me down very seriously by the way this was a very serious and intense moment where she put her laptop in front of me and made me watch a pro-Putin propaganda video on YouTube which included a clip of him photoshopped riding a tiger to the song Eye of the Tiger and she got incredibly angry when I laughed... anyways they were complaining about the drinks not having enough vodka and making us remake them even requesting repour the drinks into a bigger glass so that we could add more vodka one guy was really skinny with high cheekbones and a very sunken face small jaw thin neck you know the type slicked back hair and an oversized leather jacket and tiny black oval sunglasses that he wore the entire time he was inside he kept going in and out for cigarette breaks while I was taking out the trash and we would get in each other's way and laugh because it just kept happening and he was like oh my it's like I came here just to get in your way and for no other reason lol ohhhhh god also there was a lesbian couple and one of them had short dark hair and a labret piercing oh my God she was so beautiful Jesus Christ I'm going to kill myself she was so like intense just intense scary intense but so gentle most people in the group were dressed up but she was just wearing a black T-shirt and jeans. I didn't think she was with any of the women there until I was cleaning up and I saw her with her arm around a tiny blonde woman who I had interacted with briefly earlier she was very sweet and had these giant glimmering eyes she had accidentally gotten in my way too and was apologizing profusely staring at me with those giant eyes and a sheepish little smile oh my god. Very cute but also very alarmingly intense. Honestly they all were very intense in a way but in a really fun way you know..... very down to earth people, all of them. There was one of them who looked and had the cadence and honestly had a presence which immediately brought to mind a sort of Russian John Wayne Gacy you know like if you've ever seen his interviews it was like that anyways he was paying for everything. There was also a black man with them who was dressed so impeccably I mean they all were but this guy even moreso... he had this whole color coordinated suit with a matching velvet fedora that was tilted and large sunglasses that stayed on all night as well. Pretty sure I heard him speaking Russian with a much older man who reminded me of my doctor who is Moldovan... A lot of them were clearly family- the older man really closely resembled a few of the younger men, however they seemed a bit less intense and less involved- you know what I mean there were obvious social things happening here that they were not a part of. I'm trying to remember who else stood out from that group but yeah there was 20 of them and I was mostly just dealing with Russian Gacy and the lesbian who ended up ordering a lot of drinks directly from me. Anyways they had the main hall due to the fact that there was so many of them and most rooms can comfortably fit anywhere from 5-12 people at most- however the hall isn't private, as it attaches to the main area where the bar is. The two rooms are only separated by a curtain. This is important because unlike everyone else in the karaoke bar I can hear every song the people in the hall sing. And for the record they started off with Barbie Girl by Aqua

[nitecourtfairytail]

Heavy Hearts

Elain makes a move.

Chapter song Making Eyes by Archers

This is the song that started everything for me. When I first heard it I immediately thought of Elain and Azriel and all of their angst due to Rhysand’s meddling. I repurposed it for this chapter, though.

Ch. 4. Making Eyes

Azriel and Elain had been awkwardly dancing around one another ever since she kissed his cheek. Once she realized what she’d done it frightened her how easily it had happened, and without meaning to she pushed him away. They remained in each other’s orbit though, too afraid to take things a step further-to acknowledge their feelings. They shared small brushes of their hands when passing, maybe held on the slightest bit longer than the others when they hugged. There was something charged in their shared glances that neither could name, nor did they want to lest they break the spell.

But tonight she wanted to-at the very least she wanted to know he felt the same.

So she’d asked Mor for help. The newest townhouse inhabitant had invited everyone to her favorite bar later and jumped at the chance to help Elain pick something to wear. She skipped from the guest room down the hall to Elain’s closet, ransacking her wardrobe until she came upon a dress buried in the back with the tags still attached. She squealed. Literally squealed when she saw it.

“If you don’t agree to wear this dress tonight theres no sense in going.” She stated, matter-of-factly.

That dress had been the first thing she splurged on after leaving Greyson, but could never find the right occasion to wear it. Strapless with a sweetheart neckline, the silky, cobalt blue material was covered by black lace, and cinched together at the waist underneath a leather tie corset. When she tried it on, the fabric flowed down the curves of her shapely thighs and hugged her generous backside. A jagged hi-low hemline giving the gown a slight edginess.

“Why this one?” Elain raised a brow in curiosity.

“Because this is the only dress that’s ‘you’-sweet with a slight boldness.” Elain couldn’t help but smile at that. “And also because I happen to know a certain curly headed man loves this color blue.” She said with a wink.

Elain sputtered “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about” she feigned disbelief, but couldn’t look Mor in the eyes.

“Yeah. Okay.” She responded, voice dripping in sarcasm. “Well either way. Put on your sexiest black heels and you’ll have to pick his jaw up off the floor.” She sauntered to the door, headed to her room and stopped just in the hallway. Looking over her shoulder, she caught Elain’s eye, her voice soft, but stern. “And remember. Even if you know with absolute certainty that you want to move forward, you have every right to say no. I know my cousin-he’d never push you further than you are comfortable pushing yourself.”

~~~~~~

Elain didn’t know what to expect of Mor’s favorite bar, but this lounge certainly wasn’t it. This was a place you took someone to impress them. The booths against the wall were cozy, with red suede fabric cushions and leather backings. The waitstaff all wore dress pants and white button down shirts with red bow ties and cummerbunds.

Mor had found them a booth in the back corner, and ordered a round of drinks while they waited for the brothers to arrive.

Elain swirled her drink-a pleasantly fruity concoction with mango and strawberry, and turned to Mor beside her “How did you know?”

“Know what?” Cerridwen asked curiously. The twins loved gossip, but they were the best secret keepers Elain knew. Enigmas, the both of them.

Mor slyly looked at Elain then back at Cerridwen “That Lainey here has a thing for my broody cousin.”

Both of the twins threw their heads back in laughter “was that supposed to be a secret, El?” Nuala choked out. “Girl we knew from day one.” Her sister confirmed.

“Speak of the devil” Mor whispered, nodding her head toward the three men walking in their direction. The four of them tried not to giggle, but they were already on their second drink and that apparently made them turn into giddy school girls.

Rhysand, in a sharp charcoal suit with a deep blood orange button down underneath looked as dramatic as his personality. The style gave a uniquely ‘Rhysand’ vibe: elegant and aloof, yet at the same time casual and charming.

Cassian had opted to embrace his inner ‘hipster lumberjack’ and wore fitted, dark wash jeans with a black and forest green plaid shirt. Instead of a belt, he opted for leather suspenders to match his boots. He pulled it off surprisingly well-his five o’clock shadow only enhancing the ensemble.

She heard Mor and Cerridwen’s awed approval of the trio and nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. The brothers looked astonishing, truly, but Az-he was positively sublime. He wore a white button down with a layered waistcoat-grey with black on top- over it. His sleeves rolled halfway up his muscular forearms, and the top few buttons on his shirt undone showing off his tattooed chest and a small chain necklace with a pendant. At first glance it looked like a cross, but a second look proved it was a tiny well crafted dagger, with actual leather on the hilt and a tiny blue stone on the cross guard. He still wore his usual black skin tight jeans, but chose doc martens to complete the look.

The men stood at the edge of the table, assessing. “Mor, my darling cousin” Rhys drawled, face alight with amusement “I don’t believe this booth is big enough for all of us.”

“Indeed, cousin” she retorted. “That is because at least some of us will be spending our night on the dance floor.” She pushed Rhysand as she scooted (rather ungracefully) out of her seat to do just that-grabbing Cassian as she left. They heard Cassian excitedly ask “Does this mean you’re gonna be my wingwoman tonight?!” before the music and distance drowned out their conversation.

Azriel and Rhysand had just enough room to sit comfortably. Elain was sure this booth was in fact the smallest in this place, and was beginning to wonder if Mor hadn’t chosen it on purpose. She glanced at the uneasiness of the others and asked if they should find a different place to sit.

They found a much larger empty area a little ways away with ample seating. It had a small coffee table instead of the dining table at their old spot. Ottomans that matched the red suede were on the opposite side allowing more people to sit, and the booth itself was “L” shaped with enough space for twice their group.

~~~~~~

Elain wished she was drunk. Maybe she’d have the courage to sit on Azriel’s lap-if for no other reason than to see his reaction. She couldn’t even look at him tonight. The fact that everyone in their group knew of her feelings toward the man beside her except him made her even more anxious-like every move she made was under a microscope so they could all talk about it later without her. It was a silly thought, she knew, but these ‘intrusive thoughts’ (as Thesan called them) are just that. Lies she manifested through her anxiety, and she had to work hard to push them aside. To not let them fester inside her mind.

Mor peeled herself off the dance floor to sit with the others for a moment and order another fruity cocktail. Elain silently thanked the gods for the distraction. “Where’s Cass?” Rhys shouted above the music.

“I played wingwoman, remember?” She winked, then eyed the dance floor where Cass and a tall slender brunette were lost in each other. Their lips unlatched as they turned away from the group, she had turned her back against him, sliding her hand up behind her to hold his neck while they gyrated filthily against one another. Almost in unison the other two brothers looked at the four women with frantic looks on their faces “Can I sleep on your couch tonight?!” “Oh no, Rhys. You have the farther bedroom. You don’t have to hear it as much as I do” “I may not have to hear it, but if I walk in on it again I very well may throw myself off a bridge.”

The brothers continued to squabble between themselves as the women laughed. “You two do know that’s a pull out couch, right?” An exasperated but playful look on Elain’s face.

The pair gaped at her indignantly while Cerridwen and Mor griped about a bet they had going over who would end up on the floor.

“We’ve stayed at your house how many times? And you weren’t going to tell us?” Rhys remarked.

“My sisters and I would often sleep in the same bed. It was comforting to us. I thought maybe you guys had a similar dynamic” Elain shrugged

“I-well for you that makes sense, but these two just wanted to laugh at our expense.” Rhys huffed

“Oh please, brother. As if you weren’t sneaking into Nuala’s room half the time.” Az piped up rolling his eyes.

It was true, Nu and Rhys had a friends-with-benefits agreement, but it was never spoken about. Like some sort of known secret, everyone just accepted that it was happening. Elain had always thought the two might end up dating, but there was no emotional connection between them other than friendship. Just as well-she had a feeling he and Feyre would hit it off.

“Fine. You can have the couch then. Nu, wanna go give Cass a run for his money?” He held his hand out-she quickly grabbed it with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Oh we can totally beat that.” The two walked off discussing strategy as if going to war.

Cerridwen looked between the three left sitting, chewing her lip. “Mor? Would you-?” She nodded toward the dance floor bashfully.

“Really?” Mor beamed. Cerridwen nodded suppressing a nervous smile. “I’d love to!” The two seemed to float as they twirled around one another giddily.

“Well that just leaves us.” Az looked at Elain, uncertain of where they stood or what happened to make her push him away. “I’m not sure what I did, but I don’t like this, Lainey. It’s been almost two weeks. I’ve gotten so used to being around you, and-“

“You did nothing wrong.” She interjected. He stared at her wide eyed, confused..hurt. “I was wrong.” She grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers. “I scared myself-got in my own head and allowed my past to interfere. And instead of talking to you and trying to figure out whatever” she waved her free hand between them “this is, I pushed you away. I don’t want to do that anymore” she took a deep breath. There was a lot they needed to discuss.

“Please don’t.” He breathed, eyes so soft and earnest. “I know that there are still fresh wounds that need to heal, but Lainey-Elain. I will happily accept whatever you give me. Please don’t ever think that you’re not enough. You’re everything.” He wiped an errant tear from her cheek.

“There’s a lot I want to talk to you about-preferably in a quieter setting” she giggled “but I want you to know Az, in case there was any doubt, I really like you.”

His face looked as if she had given him the greatest gift in the world-he was filled with pure joy “I’m glad to finally have confirmation. And for the record, I really like you too.” He paused, warring with himself over the next question “Do-would it be too much if I kissed you?”

Her cheeks hurt. She hasn’t smiled this hard or this much in her life. “Just promise me you won’t get upset if I ask you to stop-if it becomes too much.”

“I swear it.” He was so gentle. Every movement soft and deliberate like it had been choreographed. His hand cupping her cheek, pulling her in closer and closer, her eyes fluttering shut at the precise moment that their foreheads rested against one another. The tenderness as he pressed theirs noses together, allowing their breath to mingle before their lips met.

The kiss itself was chaste, and over far too quickly. She could feel he held back, that anything more would be her choice, and on her terms. He pulled back, once again resting their foreheads together, searching her eyes for reassurance. The hand that still cupped her cheek moved to rest on her neck, his thumb stroking her jaw lovingly.

She mirrored his actions, and pulled him closer kissing him again. There was no clashing of teeth, no tongues roaming-not yet-but there was passion. Lips interlocking again and again, cautiously deepening with each meeting. They were learning her boundaries-together.

Lost in their own blissful world, they hadn’t noticed someone standing between the two ottomans opposite the low table until he cleared his throat. They both jumped at the sudden disruption, turning in shock.

“Who the fuck are you?” Azriel felt Elain go tense and gripped her protectively. The man ignored him, his eyes locked on the woman Az held tighter. The man’s pupils were blown wide, enraged, with only a sliver of blue to be seen. His hands at his sides-tensing into fists and stretching out again as if feebly restraining himself from physically lashing out.

“Ellie.” The man’s voice was menacing. “I see we’ve gotten over our dislike of PDA, then haven’t we?”

Azriel watched her eyes grow with fear, felt her body trembling. “You need to leave.” He rubbed Elain’s legs that at some point had come to rest over his own, in an effort to comfort her. To remind her that she wasn’t alone in this fight.

Again the man acted as though Azriel hadn’t spoken. “Is this the piece of shit you were screwing behind my back? I fucking knew you were a little slut.”

“Lainey, you want me to take care of this?” He asked her as gently as he could manage, his rage at the bastard before them barely contained.

She turned her head toward him, finally breaking eye contact with her ex. Her hand still resting on Azriel’s neck moved. She curled her fingers and stroked along his jaw with her knuckles-the motion nothing but loving. Her eyes softened as they met his own-almost golden with his fury. “No, Az. Not yet. I need to try first.” She kissed him before moving to stand on shaky legs.

He wouldn’t interfere. He knew she had to do this herself. He would be her strength, cheering her silently from the sidelines; ready to sub-in should the need arise, but praying it wouldn’t come to that.

With her heels on, she was nearly eye to eye with Greyson. Her hands balled into fists at her side, she walked toward him, gaining confidence with each stride. “You have some nerve continuing these bullshit lies. I NEVER cheated on you, but I know you did. I had to go to the clinic more than once because of whatever YOU brought back with you, and pretend it never happened.” She was livid. “How dare you show up now and try to interfere with my happiness-my healing.”

“Oh, please Ellie. I gave you a good life.” He seethed

“YOU GAVE ME HEL!” She shouted “you gave me more trauma! You gave me nothing worth holding on to!” He slapped her. Azriel bolted upright. Elain held her hand out to him, silently telling him to hold on. She stood her ground.

“I never reported you, but I have plenty of evidence. Even your father couldn’t keep you out of jail if I went to the police with everything I have against you.” Greyson balked at her. She held her hand out to Azriel, which he instantly grabbed.

She started to walk away, Az in tow, when Greyson called after her “Fatass fucking whore. I gave you so much better than you deserved.” She tugged Azriel harder to keep him from giving the man the punishment rightfully owed him.

As they got further away from her ex, she turned to a still enraged Azriel. “I know you wanted to kill him. I did too. But I wasn’t lying about the evidence.” Her thumb stroked his hand in calming arcs. “There were witnesses when he hit me tonight-plus there are cameras in here.” His lips parted in disbelief-quickly taken over by a prideful smile. “I may have a lot of mental issues and blockages to deal with because of him, but he talked a lot about his job at the law firm-how if there wasn’t enough evidence against the accused the case would usually be dismissed or the evidence was ‘hearsay’ and inadmissible. I’ve been building my case for a while.”

“Godsdammit you’re amazing, Lain.” His voice filled with awe.

The pair found the rest of the group on the dance floor and explained what happened. “We’re leaving.” Rhys said decisively-as if there were any question from the rest of them. Cassian had left with the mysterious brunette at least half an hour prior telling Rhysand not to wait up (meaning he was going to her place). That came as a huge relief. As happy as she was with how things went tonight with Az, Elain wasn’t sure if she could handle him sleeping under the same roof just yet,

The group said their goodbyes outside of Rita’s. When it was her turn to say goodbye to Az, it was as if everyone else felt the tension and stepped away to give them some semblance of privacy. “Let me know when you get home tonight, please.” He was worried-scared of what had happened and the possibilities of what could happen now that Greyson was making his presence known again.

“I swear it.” She giggled. He kissed the top of her head, and she could feel him smiling against her hair. “I never got the chance to tell you, by the way, that you clean up quite nicely.” She pulled away and winked at him.

There was a glint in his eye as he leaned forward, breath tickling the shell of her ear. His deep voice turned raspy “and you, sweetheart, are absolutely ravishing.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “I-um-“ her throat bobbed. “I-I’ll text you. In just a little bit, okay?” She stammered nervously. He smiled in answer, quickly kissing her lips, and beginning to walk toward Rhysand’s car. “I look forward to it.”

~~~~~~

“There’s so much I could say to you but I think I’ll hold my tongue.” Elain sang with such emotion. She couldn’t help the tears lining her eyes or the raspiness of her voice, but it added intensity to the vocals. “Cause what’s the point in hanging on when I’d rather be done-”

She’d been putting off this assignment for weeks now, unable to put her thoughts into words. Students had to perform an original song for the class before the end of the semester-needless to say the previous night had given her plenty to think about, and finally the words came flooding out of her. It only took five minutes to write the lyrics, another ten to figure out the chords before she was emailing her professor to ask permission to perform Tuesday in class.

Tuesday afternoon, she gathered Nuala, Cerridwen, and Vassa at the townhouse for an impromptu meeting/practice session.

“My professor loved the song so much he told me I should perform it for the Academy Expo event next weekend.” She beamed at her band mates “I told him I would, as long as I could do it with my band instead of acoustically, since everyone here is also in the Academy’s music programs.”

“Oh my gods, you’re KIDDING” Vassa leapt onto Elain, squeezing her tightly.

“I know. I’m beyond excited, but that means we have a little over a week to learn the song.” She ran a hand over her face. “Let’s get to it”

~~~~~~

Elain had gotten ready for bed, but sleep didn’t find her. There was too much on her mind- her sisters, the song, Greyson showing back up-Azriel.

She really hadn’t known him long, and that first night was….something. Though his first words to her had been about her ass, and he’d scared her so badly she hit her head on the nightstand, they almost instantly clicked.

It all started with pancakes.

—

She finally found out she wasn’t the only person who preferred Nutella instead of syrup. At first she assumed he did it because he was drunk, but then Rhys mentioned him ‘still doing that’.

“Of course I still do this. It’s delicious, which you’d know if you weren’t such a purist and actually gave something other than syrup it a chance.” He had told his brother, pointing at him with a bite of pancake covered in the chocolatey spread on his fork.

Cassian noted the mystified look on Elain’s face as she stared at Azriel. “I know, right. It’s fuckin weird.”

“What’s weird is that I’ve never met another person who prefers their pancakes with Nutella. My sisters used to give me so much shit about it.”

Rhysand rubbed the bridge of his nose while mumbling “Oh fuck. There’s two of them now.” While Azriel pointed his re-loaded fork at Elain “THANK YOU! Finally someone with taste buds!”

—

While, yes, she found him insanely attractive, they also had a ton of things in common, and that 3am breakfast was just the beginning of a fast friendship.. that was steadily evolving into something..different. Elain couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that’s the key to a lasting, honest relationship-being friends first. Having that connection as well as a romantic one, and maybe they both played into the physicality?

Her thoughts drifted to the intimacy she craved-with him.

Her door was closed, she was the only one awake-she allowed the thoughts that entered her mind-and followed to see how far they went. She thought about the feel of his lips-so soft and gentle-such a contrast from his outwardly rough demeanor. She imagined his lips exploring her neck, her chest, followed by his magnificent hands. Pinching and rolling her nipples, teasing her between her legs.

Would he be rough with her? There had always been a part of her that enjoyed being told what to do in bed, a part that enjoyed being controlled and taken, but there was never any give in the past. Her ex never gave her any leeway-no safe words, or motions-and if he did he ignored when they were used. She liked being submissive and reminded how well she’s taking a cock; of how much of a “good girl” she was, but she needed to know that if it ever became too much that there would be an immediate end.

Everything she knew about Azriel screamed that he would respect her. He would never allow himself to take things too far. Something inside of her knew that she would be safe with him, but she was unable to continue. Couldn’t get past that barrier of fear to let herself find release. She groaned in defeat, rolling over to sleep.

[p-antomime]

just so fine.

— minors don’t interact

— wc: 4,7K

content + warnings: 18+, including: dilf!toji, manhandle, spitting, daddy kink, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, a bit of school girl!reader maybe, breeding kink, overstimulation, squirting, degradation, age gap, a bit of size kink, thigh riding

pairings: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

— note: this is a bit inspired by: Love Without Tragedy by Rihanna. — jjk masterlist.

Red lipstick and a broken heart trying to be concerted by the petals of your conscience and your friends who said that "he didn't deserve you anyway". And honestly, you didn't know where exactly you were getting the strength from to get out of bed that Monday and go take a shower before heading painfully to your first class in the morning.

He used to be the boy you loved with every cell of your body and soul, he stole the best years of your freshman life at the university, and now you were a senior who had neither the animation nor the patience to welcome the incoming freshmen that year. Despite having Kugisaki and Megumi fervently cheering you on while Itadori was too busy still dealing with the problem of sending documents to the college, your heart was still fatally wounded and your dignity no longer existed as your tears had wiped it off the face of the earth during that morning shower and you couldn't help but be tempted to put on makeup good enough to mask your dark circles under your eyes and downcast face.

"Are you coming today?", Nobara asked excitedly on the other end of the line as you were already leaving the house and taking the long way to college.

— Do I have the option of not going?

"No, of course not.", Nobara replied with a slight laugh that was well intended to cheer you up a bit, "We can have a movie night tonight, to cheer you up."

— At whose house? At mine that won't be, it's a mess. — You grumbled.

"At Megumi's or Itadori's, of course. During lunch I'll buy soda and food with Yuuji and you convince Megumi to let us break into his house today.”

— Why do I have to convince Megumi? You came up with the idea.

"Because I'll be busy, simple. And Fushiguro doesn't take me seriously.", and then you sighed heavily, already noticing that you were less than a block away from entering the college grounds.

— Okay, I see what I can do.

Kugisaki told you that she was waiting for you in the classroom, and you replied that you were already there. And then something distinctive caught your attention. It was strangely easy to spot something different in the landscape of the university entrance because usually it was always the same: university students rushing to settle personal matters or to classes they are late for, or also students who came to see what the college was like before the university application period.

But today was different. There was a tall man fully dressed in black and gray leaning against a motorcycle that looked as if it had been taken from an action movie because it was so well equipped and large. He looked relaxed, and yet he still possessed an aura that could kill you with a single punch. Attractive and devilishly dangerous with that leather jacket highlighting his strong arms and broad shoulders. Forcing your eyes a little, you could notice a scar close to one of the corners of his lips.

— What's the matter, little girl? — His deep voice reaches your ears, but your mind whispers to you that he probably wasn't talking to you at the same time that your heart starts to beat out of control and your head turns from side to side trying to check if there is someone behind you. — Yeah, I'm talking to you. — He smiled sideways.

— Uh... hmm... none, sorry. — Your cheeks started to heat up and you wanted to punch yourself in the stomach because usually a simple man couldn't disconcert you like that, and then your eyes fell on his collarbones, well marked by the black shirt he wore under his jacket, and your mouth suddenly felt too dry.

— What exactly are you apologizing for? — The man asked as he placed one of the helmets on the motorcycle seat, if there were two helmets maybe he brought some college girl? — For eating me with your eyes or staring at me? — And then you choked on your saliva and coughed desperately for air trying not to drop the folders in your hands and he seemed amused by your reaction.

— I-I... — Your fingers squeezed the folders and you had to look away to think straight. — I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I didn't mean to.

— I am not, it's great to be lusted after by younger girls. — He replied, but before he had a chance to continue his onslaught someone approached from the diagonal.

— Dad! — And then you choked again seeing that the one who was referring to the man in front of you as "dad" was Megumi. — Oh, Y/N? — He looked confused looking from you to his own father. — Anyway, they didn't have what you wanted at the pharmacy, next time you'll buy it yourself. — The young Fushiguro spoke to the older man, but seconds later, noticing the mortifying silence that settled over the place as you stared at his father, he spoke up: — And we are almost late already, let’s go, Y/N. — Megumi took one of your arms and started to guide you away from the motorcycle and closer to the interior of the college.

— You never told me you were interested in girls. — His father shouted more to embarrass his son than you, but the effect was the opposite, since you were the one with the burning cheeks.

— Shut up, Toji. — Megumi shouted back as he continued walking. — Did he say shit to you? — He asked you when the two of you were already walking down the halls to your classroom for the first class of the morning.

— Not really, no. He seems... fine. — You tried to talk as if you didn't have dirty thoughts running through your mind especially after remembering the older man's collarbones and scar, and still Megumi gave you an accusing look.

— Don't try to fuck my father, that's disgusting. - Your eyes widened.

— I wasn't thinking that, you idiot. — And then Megumi let out a loud laugh.

— I know, I was just trying to amuse you. — He shrugged and left you standing in front of the door. — See you at lunch?

— Yes, of course. — You answered, and then suddenly remembered Nobara's request on the phone earlier. Your hand held one of his arms so that he wouldn't walk away without listening to you. — Megumi, can we have a movie night at your place tonight? Nobara came up with the idea of doing this to cheer me up a bit. — He seemed to become suddenly tense.

— I'll have to at least let Toji know that there will be people coming home today. — Megumi answered vaguely and shrugged. — I'll send a message to Kugisaki and let her know if it's on or off.

Nodding your head positively, you gave your friend a slight smile, and then for the rest of the day your mind concentrated on paying attention to your classes, your scheduled seminars and the pile of work you still had to do. There was no time for your heart to pound with grief over the loss of your now ex-boyfriend, but there were several minutes when you had to chase away persistent thoughts of Megumi's dad. But looking at him wasn't enough, your hands wanted to explore his body and leave marks everywhere, that's what you thought until you felt ashamed, pushed the thoughts away for a few brief minutes and then thought about it again. In a vicious loop.

When you were having lunch with Itadori, Fushiguro and Kugisaki, your head tried to focus on their conversation as much as possible, but looking at the man with black hair and beautiful eyelashes reminded you of Toji and your hands started to break into a cold sweat. It had been a frustrating, tiring day, but secretly you were a little excited to see your friend's father again.

— Don't take too long, okay? — Nobara spoke after dropping you off and leaning against the hallway wall, and you nodded positively before going to your room to pack a backpack with some pajamas and an outfit in case you and the other two friends ended up falling asleep while you were at Megumi's house.

It didn't take long before you two were ringing the doorbell of the Fushiguro’s house and from the loud sound from inside the house you both could tell Yuuji had already arrived. Suddenly, Y/N felt nervous not knowing who would answer the door. Would it be Toji? "Damn", you thought as you saw exactly him calmly opening the door. This time he wasn't wearing very dark clothes, it was just gray sweatpants and a white v-neck shirt that still highlighted his beautiful collarbones.

— Is that them? — Itadori shouted from another room in the house.

— Yes. — Megumi, who was looking at the two girls standing in the doorway over Toji's shoulder, answered. — You may come in.

Toji moved to the side letting you two into the house and, using the personal excuse of being embarrassed, Y/N walked in with her head down. And partly, in fact, it was true that you were embarrassed, but your mind knew that your eyes wanted to take a good look at the older Fushiguro's thighs and cock. It was impossible not to look at those parts of his body, especially with that kind of pants.

But then Toji gave himself the right to go up the stairs to the upper floor of the house and out of your field of vision when Megumi asked you and Nobara which movie you wanted to watch and she answered that a drama movie. And then the four of you started to watch the movie comfortably, until you started to feel the straps of your own bra start to press painfully against the skin of your shoulders.

— Can I go to the bathroom? — Y/N asked Megumi, who pointed to the steps of the staircase diagonally across from the sofa.

— First door on the left. — You nodded and walked up the stairs carrying your backpack, intending to get rid of your bra and also put on the comfortable pajama top that had been brought.

From the hallway you could hear the low sound of another TV escaping through the gap in a tall door. It was probably Toji's room, such a thought raced through your mind, and you shrugged as you entered the bathroom, leaned against the door, and began to remove your bra and change into your shirt. It was inevitable to sigh in relief as you felt your shoulders less tense and sore and your hands groped your breasts just for the personal pleasure of feeling them free now.

— Hmm, may I come in? — A muffled voice was heard behind the door and instinctively you quickly removed your hands from your breasts.

— Just a minute. — Y/N answered, shoving the previously worn blouse into her backpack and almost running toward the door, slowly opening it.

You looked forward and found yourself facing a bare hard chest as you waited to see a long hallway with four different doors. Toji was now shirtless in front of you and your cheeks burned a little, which got a little worse when your brain short-circuited, your hand rested two fingers against the warm, somewhat soft skin of his chest, and you pulled away slightly so that you could look him in the eye.

— I'm sorry. — Your hand finished opening the door and there was again a sideways smile on Toji's lips

— Are you going to sleep here? — He asked, sliding his gaze over her shoulders, breasts and abdomen freely, without any embarrassment.

— No, actually. I just changed my shirt to be more comfortable.

— Got it. — Toji looked you straight in the eyes again, but yours were already gliding across his face until you found the scar close to his lips.

— How did you get this scar? — You felt the need to prolong the conversation just to get a better record of his face.

— You're pretty curious for someone apparently shy. — He remarked, his eyes sparkling with a gleam that you couldn't quite identify what it was. — When I was younger, we could say I wasn't the friendliest person in the whole world, so I got into a few fights. — Toji shrugged, as if this was not relevant information

How old are you? — A mischievous smile slowly drew on his lips.

— Old enough to be your dad.

"Then maybe I can call you Daddy", was the first thing you thought, but there wasn't enough courage in you to flirt shamelessly, especially with Megumi or the other two able to eavesdrop from downstairs.

— I think I've been here with you long enough. — Y/N answered, putting the backpack on her back and walking past Toji, but just as her feet were about to start down the steps, the older Fushiguro called her out.

— I think you forgot something, little girl. — You turned back in confusion, and in his hands was your bra. Toji threw the piece of clothing toward you through the air without much force to fall gently onto your palms that had opened toward him. — The next time you forget something like that inside my house, I'll keep it for myself. — You frowned, assuming that he was implying that there was possibly something between you and his son.

— Me and Megumi, we don't... — Your shoulders shook without your mouth finishing the sentence.

— I wasn't talking about him exactly, you're very naive, not that that's a problem for me. — He went into the bathroom and eventually you were alone again.

Feeling more embarrassed than the first time you had seen Toji earlier at the university entrance, you joined your friends again in the middle of the movie and were grateful that none of them had bothered to ask if anything had happened in the bathroom because of your delay. Eventually Nobara fell asleep on your shoulder after eating two pieces of the pizza Megumi had asked his father to buy, and Yuuji began to yawn almost pushing the son of the owner of the house off the couch.

— I knew they would both end up sleeping. — Megumi grumbled, pushing Itadori aside and getting up from the sofa. — There are two guest bedrooms upstairs, you and Nobara can use both of them and Yuuji sleeps with me, or one of you can sleep with me and the other and Itadori in the other bedrooms.

— I think it's better that Yuuji better sleep with you. — Y/N replied looking at Kugisaki, who was starting to fall off her shoulder.

And then Fushiguro woke the almost sleeping Itadori to go upstairs while he carried Nobara up the stairs and you accompanied him carrying both your and your friend's backpack. After tidying Kugisaki up in bed and getting Yuuji changed, Megumi spoke to you before leaving you alone in the guest room:

— If you feel hungry, you can go in the kitchen and get something to eat during the night. And, well, you already know where the bathroom is, and so does my room. If anything happens during the night, you can call me or him. — Megumi pointed to the door of Toji's bedroom, and you nodded positively.

And then you laid lazily on the slightly uncomfortable bed in the room and tried to relax. Almost, almost, sleep caught up with you, but your evil brain began to make you think about the fact that Toji was only a few miserable doors away, and the anxiety began to corrupt you rapidly, like a corrosive acid. But even though you wanted to go knock on his door, you forced yourself to sleep, especially since the day had been exhausting.

The next day, just like the rest of the week, Y/N didn't get to see Megumi's dad, and he didn't make much of a point of talking about his father either, after all, why would his friends be interested in him, right? All the other days of the week, her mind focused more on trying not to think about her ex-boyfriend and also not to think about Toji, just college business.... And then came the next Thursday of the successive week.

And there was Toji Fushiguro, leaning against his big motorcycle, but this time with only one helmet and different clothes. Honestly? You didn't know if you should go talk to him or not, if you should just walk right by or not. But, in the end, your mind tricked you into choosing the second option, and your feet awkwardly made their way to the college with your eyes struggling not to check the man's reactions.

— Can I have your number, little girl? — Toji asked in a tone loud enough for you to hear.

— What? — You looked away, wringing your hands nervously.

— I asked if I could have your number. — One of his hands swung his cell phone toward you.

The first thought that crossed your mind was, "What if someone sees us together and tells Megumi?", but honestly, Megumi probably wouldn't be interested in your sex or love life, even if it was with his father.

— Maybe, if you take me for a motorcycle ride today.

— You're wearing a skirt, are you sure you'd want to do that? — Toji suppressed a playful laugh. — You could have a ride somewhere more comfortable than my motorcycle today.

You narrowed your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek, realizing that you were entering dangerous territory in a game of seduction that Toji knew and played better than you.

— Will Megumi be at home?

— He has an internship today. — Toji replied, drumming his fingers on his helmet.

— Wait for me after four o'clock then. — You replied and walked back toward the college as you felt his eyes fixed on your ass.

Throughout the day you felt uncomfortably nervous and Nobara even asked you if everything was okay several times at different times. The only answer your mind formulated was a simple positive head movement, because honestly you felt embarrassed to be interested in a friend's dod, even though this father was extremely attractive and did not reject your shy and restrained advances. He was just so nice, fine.

Fine enough to make you press your thighs together to try to relieve the sexual tension as your legs walked towards the Fushiguro house. And when you got there, it didn't take long to see Toji opening the door wearing only black sweatpants. You went inside and closed the door, nervously watching the older man, who sat comfortably on the sofa in the living room and called out to you with his index finger. As you stopped in front of him, one hand patted his lap and the other was placed on your thigh covered by your skirt. Slowly, Y/N took her seat sitting on his covered cock.

— Why do you look so tense, hm? — Toji asked, squeezing your thigh without too much force and you moved slightly against his hip. — Are you a virgin by any chance? — Your cheeks heated up.

— N-No, you just make me nervous. — Y/N replied, shrugging slightly.

— Do I? — He pretended to be surprised as he slid his hand up her skirt and pushed his fingertips against her covered pussy. — Do I make you get your panties wet too? — Toji pressed his hips against hers and her hands rested on his shoulders for a few brief seconds.

— Fuck, yes. — You groaned, taking your fingers to the buttons of your shirt to undo them. — I've been thinking about you more than I should, I've been thinking about everything about you.

— So, why don't you show me how much you've been thinking about me, huh? — Fushiguro pulled her panties aside and stroked her pussy in slow circular motions while he brought his other hand to her face and pulled her closer to his. — Show me how much you want me and cum on my fingers like the dirty slut I know you can be. — His thumb slowly brushed over your lips and you opened them, your mouth filled by long fingers.

You grabbed his wrist close to your intimacy and guided two of his digits into your interior. And, fuck, they filled you so well. Toji's fingers were thicker and longer than yours, so the times he repeatedly curved them inside your cunt, their tips easily brushed and pressed that spot that made you roll your eyes having your body spasm with pleasure. "What a beautiful vision", the man would be thinking as he watched his beautiful college girl choking on his fingers while being fucked by the others.

However, he didn't move his hand against you much, meaning that he let you choose the pace and intensity, until you whimpered against his neck in a silent request for his fingers to move against you:

— Please, Toji, move your fingers. — Y/N said as she pulled away from Toji's digits that were preventing her from speaking and forced her hips against his hand.

— Can't you cum on your own? — He asked squeezing your chin to make you keep your mouth open. — Pathetic. — Toji spat on your tongue and closed your mouth to force you to swallow. — Pathetic slut. — And then he began to finger you in a relentless rhythm.

If Fushiguro wanted to make you cum in his hand, that's exactly what he got, and he even got a great view of your trembling body, your breasts rising and falling rapidly because of your rapid breathing and your head falling back in an intense pleasure you didn't know your body could achieve. While you were still clouded by ecstasy, his fingers snuck up to finish removing your panties and getting rid of your clothes covering your upper body. He wanted you only in your skirt.

— Look at my pet slut with her beautiful cunt leaking. — His fingers spread the folds of your pussy to see you twitching around just at his obscene words. — Just so nice. — Toji pressed the thumb against your sensitive clit and gave you a smirk before he sat you down on one of his thighs, began to move you there and also slowly stimulated your clit.

His body leaned down and his lips latched onto your breasts, sucking and licking them more intensely as your hips moved faster against his thigh. And occasionally Fushiguro would pull up her skirt and slap her ass hard enough to leave several finger marks across her skin; and it was on one of his slaps that a short, gasping, "Daddy" sneaked out from between your lips and hit Toji's mind as a twinge of intense pleasure coursed through his entire body.

— Say that again. — He ordered, grabbing her neck with the hand that had been slapping her ass before.

— Daddy... — Y/N groaned breathlessly as she continued to move her hips against Toji's thigh in a desperate attempt to cum again.

— Keep calling me that, be a good little whore for me. — His other hand continued to stimulate your clit, now at a more intense pace that managed to push you straight into the abyss of a orgasmic pleasure that you so desperately needed.

After that, Fushiguro held you still in place as he continued to press his fingers against your clit. He definitely wanted to bring you close to the level of almost passing out from so much lust running freely through your body, and so your legs instinctively closed around his hand. At the same time that you desperately needed to breathe because you felt like your lungs were burning from your intense panting, every fiber of your body was still clamoring for the stimulation that only Toji could give you at the moment, so it wasn't hard for him to force your legs open again with a sly smile on his lips:

— Come on, my pretty girl, give me everything you've got. — He made scissor-like movements against her walls and her hips automatically forced themselves against Toji's palm, even though her intimacy was already quite sensitive.

— Daddy, please... please, more, daddy... — Y/N sank her face into the curve of Toji's neck trying to stifle her own moans.

— What a great fuck toy you are. — His fingers curved and you gasped, feeling again that same pressure as before against your bottom that indicated that your third orgasm was approaching. — No matter how much I make you cum you keep asking for more.

And the more he moved his fingers frantically against your pussy, the more you felt your thoughts disappear completely and all that was left was only Toji Fushiguro, and his fingers, and the cocky smile he had no matter what the situation was. Those same fingers that made you squirt for the first time against his abdomen in a third, overwhelming orgasm and your cheeks heat up violently, especially after seeing Toji bring them to his lips looking more than just satisfied with his work with you. Fuck, you could fuck him several times, you could pass out from pleasure, and you still wouldn't ask him to stop or slow down with you.

— Think you can handle one more, pretty girl? — He asked, his hands reaching for his pants and underwear.

— Yes, Daddy. — Y/N tried to speak as firmly as possible with her heavy breathing.

Toji put one hand on your waist and the other on your chin and took the opportunity to pull you in for a kiss as he entered you slowly, which made you lose some focus on the kiss and moan against his mouth as your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders. He didn't let you get too used to the recent intrusion and started thrusting himself against you hard.

After leaving yours, his mouth slid down your neck and shoulders to leave sucking and biting the area before placing the hand that was on your chin on your neck. Eventually yours moans went from simple gasps and sighs to little "Daddy" that made Fushiguro's dick twitch against yours insides several times and grunts escape his lips.

— I will breed you like the desperate little whore that you are. — Toji stroked hard against you while squeezing your neck a little harder. — I bet you're going to love this, aren't you?

— Y-Yes, daddy, breed me, please. — Y/N moved her hips against his while maintaining eye contact with the older man's predatory eyes. — Fill me up completely, until I'm leaking.

Toji squeezed your waist tightly, tilted your body slightly until your hips arched a bit, and started a rhythm of thrusts against you that as a result made your mind go blank and your nails leave scratches on his shoulders. And your fourth orgasm didn't even take long to hit you almost as hard as the third because your whole body had been extremely sensitive for a long time; after fucking that man incessantly you would definitely be addicted to him, to his touch, to his dick, to his lips. Everything about him was addictive.

After making you cum for the fourth time, Fushiguro kept thrusting inside you until his cock forcefully contracted against you and filled you full of cum. By that point you had definitely become just a bunch of holes for him to fuck, and if your body wasn't already so sensitive you might want him to actually fill every possible place in your body with cum. When he withdrew his dick from inside your pussy, Toji pulled your hips up to watch the white liquid escape your entrance and used his fingers to push it into you again.

— Come here. — He patted his chest lightly, and you leaned your sweaty body against his as you lifted your head to look at him. His hands caressed your body and soon you found yourself being carried up the stairs. — I'm going to give you a long shower, and then I'll take you home. — Toji left a gentle kiss against your forehead, and you felt more comfortable than you really should have in his arms.

— Thank you, daddy. — You replied, and he couldn't suppress a satisfied smile.

And maybe from then on you continued to take advantage of the times when Megumi wasn't home or you weren't so busy with college to spend hours together.

[a-pretty-nerd]

Choose Me

Viktor x afab!fem!reader

Chapter 8

Summary: Your past tends to haunt you when you die.

Chapter 7

Warnings: VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED! Several discussions of suicide, death, description of a corpse, intense emotions, funerals, etc.

A/N: I am sorry this took so long for me to write, I've got some new hyper fixations and some big life changes. That being said, I didn't want this story to end with the last chapter because let me tell you, I have a bunch more planned. This is the point where canonn is going to be changed and tweaked a little bit, not a crazy amount. This chapter I tried to make it feel like the flashbacks of the character's childhood kinda like how the show does. Here's hoping we get a season 2!

Happy laughter filled the hallways of your family home. Your hands gripped the stuffed dolly you brought with you everywhere. It seemed so much bigger then, when it was half your size. Your small feet dressed in your house shoes padded gently across the carpet. Your smile stretched so far across your cheeks it almost hurt.

Elated, and excited you ran down the hall calling for your mother. Searching in every room, your happy little voice echoing throughout the home. Your bright eyes darted through rooms in search.

"Momma! Where are you? I wanna show you something! Momma!" You called. Your little hand reached for the door, throwing the door open as you had every other. Your mother floated within. "Momma! Look what Dadda brought- me-"

At first all you saw were her feet. Dangling. Her dress started just above her ankles, a bright but muted blue shade you would never forget. Her dress was new. Pressed and perfect, as if she had prepared to go somewhere. Your eyes followed up her floating figure as you came upon her blank and lifeless face. That was not your mother. It was her shell.

"Momma..." you called her in hopes of her springing back to life. Your father saw you from down the hall and slowly approached. Upon seeing his wife he threw the door closed and held you tight. You remember beginning to cry and asking for your mother. Asking where she was, demanding her. You were 8 years old when your mother passed away.

You stood there and watched them slowly lower the casket into the dirt as it began to rain. Your father's heavy hand resting on your shoulder. You didn't cry then. Still in a state of shock. The memory of her, hung over you like a cloud. Her lifeless body dangling there in thr darkness like a phantom. It would never leave you. Night terrors become frequent and relentless. You become compelled to visit her grave, but your father denied your request. He suddenly seemed, uninterested in you.

Being ignored gave you the freedom to sneak out for the first time as a child. Making your way through the dark foggy streets of Piltover till you came to the gates of the Cemetery. You wondered through the headstone like a ghost until you came upon her freshly placed grave. You laid down, and clutching yourself tight, you fell asleep. No night terrors came. Peacefully you slept under the stars in what felt like your mother's familiar embrace.

This became a regular occurrence when you couldn't sleep, you would run to your mother's grave. Like a toddler wanting to sleep in their parent's bed at night. It almost became routine, until a servant found you missing from your bed and a search party was set out for you. Your father found you, and snatched you away. A harsh wakeup prompting ungodly screams from the 8 year old child. You sobbed loudly, screaming for your mother.

Your punishment was a girl's correctional school outside of Piltover. The old brick building towered over you. At first you had it in your head that you would run away, but crushing failure after crushing failure only landed you more time. The teachers were old and bitter. The students were young and angry. You still have a vivid memory of a bully breaking your nose by slamming your head into a desk. You got in trouble for that one.

When father did send for you on holidays, you came home to an idealic paradise he'd prepared. Anything you wanted was yours. On the condition that you behaved and did as you were told. Be polite. Be sweet. Be still.

The years of conditioning peaked when you grew into a teenager. Finally you were allowed to attend school on Piltover, taking etiquette classes alongside your usual. You threw yourself into your studies. Not out of genuine desire but out of expectation. You excelled where you found interest, but generally kept good report all around in a bid to please your easily upset father. It worked. All your work was paying off.

Quickly you were swept into the circus of the media. Where your youth, beauty, and reputation took your position on the pedestal and firmly raised it to absurd proportions. Your father grew comfortable. Grew trusting of you.

Now, you're falling. Falling down, down, down, onto the cold brick road below. Your clothes are ripped and flowing in the wind reaches out alongside your trembling hand. Your father's face, his expression, burns into your eyes so that it is still there when you finally close them. It's true what they say, life flashes before your eyes before you die. You regret to see that Viktor is but a small part of your short story.

But the memory of his smile and the way he looked at you when the two of you were all alone is so sweet it's painful. It hurts, just about as much as hitting the ground does. The abrupt sound of your body making impact, the loud crunch of your bones signals your demise. And like that, the world goes black.

You didn't expect death to be so dark. So endless. So lonely. You feel like you're still falling. Falling deeper and deeper into the darkness. Floating even. Aimless. There are times when you think you hear voices, but it too drifts away as soon as it appeared and you never hear a recognizable word anyhow.

So you float.

Viktor sat at his desk as per usual. His head hanging low, the pain in his bones visibly taking a toll on him. His hand gently shook as he tinkered with a jammed gear, trying desperately to pull them apart. Jayce is nowhere to be found in the lab, it is just Viktor mindlessly tinkering. He can't focus, for once in his god-forsaken life he is wildly distracted. Your face. It flashes between his thoughts. Betrayal and hurt are written all over your face. Your voice, begging, pleading for him to do something. Instead, he just stood there and let Jayce handle it. It makes his stomach turn, and it makes his heart feel heavy. He resolves then and there that he should go to you and apologize. Perhaps, he would buy you something nice for once. A gift. Some flowers maybe?

As he pushes himself away from his desk, he hears the door to the lab open. Heimerdinger peaks in, his brow hanging firmly over his eyes. He looks glum. In his little hands, the morning paper hangs limp in his grasp. His eyes shift from the floor up to Viktor.

"Professor?" Viktor asks, concerened. He doesn't respond, instead, he steps forward and slowly makes his way over to Viktor. Upon closer inspection, Viktor realizes the tears in Heimerdinger's eyes. Viktor becomes confused. The short man offers him the paper in his hand, followed by a sad sniffle.

"My condolences, my boy." He mutters. Viktor takes the paper and looks it over. A picture of your shining face smiles brightly but disturbingly as he reads the article title:

Beloved Airess Commits Suicide

Viktor stares at the title and shakes his head. As he reads the article, his brow slowly scrunches above his eyes. His expression curls in horror and is quickly replaced by denial.

"This can't be right. I just saw her last night, I- This- This can't be true. Y/N wouldn't-" The words catch in his throat as he continues to read. His fingers grip the paper and begin to crush it in his grasp. He brings the paper to his head as tears begin to fall down his cold, pale cheeks. They fall onto the paper as he attempts to cover his face. Heimerdinger reaches a hand to place it on his arm, only for Viktor to swiftly move it, gently shoving him away.

"I'll leave you, then. But please, if there is anything I can do-"

"No. Thank you, professor." His voice was firm. Heimerdinger nodded and saw himself out of the lab. As soon as the door shut behind him, Viktor buckled to his knees. His head hit the floor and he began to sob, holding the picture of you printed all over the paper firmly to his chest. "It can't be true. Please, let this be a dream- please- Y/N-" he hiccuped. He didn't hear the lab door open, he was startled from his sobs when a familiar voice called his name.

"I see you've read the morning paper." Your father's dark eyes met his.

[boom-bakugou]

‘Wedding Crashers’ - Katsuki Bakugou

A/N: Sorry for my inactivity but here’s a little sorry and thank you present for me hitting 1k! I love you all sm <3

Pairings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, ooc deku; but it’s more of a headcanon, semi-public sex

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend Izuku Midoriya inviting you to his wedding is a definite stab in yours and Katsuki Bakugou’s backs. But you’ll show him.

Word Count: 5k

masterlist

You had considered your morning to be relatively normal, breakfast not burnt, coffee just that right amount of bitter to stir you awake. But those happy moments of peaceful bliss were soon to be fleeting as your mail arrived. Sifting through the pile to what you assumed would be bank statements and bills; your fingers landed on a cream white envelope. Your name printed neatly in a cursive font that when you followed it with your eyes for too long it almost made you want to puke. Tearing it open haphazardly, you read the perfumed content inside.

‘Dear Y/N Y/LN,

We are very proud to invite you to the blah blah blah wedding of pro hero blah blah Izuku Midoriya and blah blah blah.

RSVP blah-‘

Wait what? The taste in your mouth was pitiful. Yes, you and Izuku had dated years prior and after being childhood friends, yet it didn’t end… swimmingly. But this didn’t feel like inviting a childhood friend to your happiest day, no, this felt like a backhanded swipe at your ex-girlfriend who was well known to the media to be single. Pro-Hero gossip magazines made sure of that.

Throwing the invitation onto your countertop, your eyebrows furrowed with spite. You felt weak almost, watching your ex-best friend grow up to be this bountiful hero with merch in every store that you went to. Though you had triumphed well in the hero charts yourself, nothing ever seemed to compare to him. The golden boy. You never really got over the fact that he ended things because being a single hero was more postable than one who was tied down. Until now. Mr. Big shot getting married. It really made you question your integrity,

Recuperating your thoughts, you realised your phone was buzzing on the couch next to you. Checking to see the influx of text messages, you saw Katsuki Bakugou’s name fill up your lockscreen with notifications.

Bakugou: tell me you got the stupid fuckin invite too

Bakugou: the nerve that nerd still fuckin has

Bakugou: inviting his childhood ‘friends’ after all this time

Bakugou: tch, one big publicity stunt if you ask me

You chuckle as you scroll through the messages, gladly knowing that you weren’t the only one feeling this way.

Y/N: so what’re we going to do about it?

Bakugou: what do you mean?

Y/N: well we can’t show him up at his own wedding but we can sure stir something of our own

Bakugou: well that idiot is marrying some nobody extra

Bakugou: probably to show how ‘great’ he is

Bakugou: so how about if two top pro heroes rsvp’d together?

Y/N: you mean us?

Bakugou: no, midnight and grape juice. of course us you idiot

The idea brewed in your head for a moment. Izuku had always been nice when he was younger, and Katsuki hadn’t exactly been the nicest towards him in return. You were always the mediator in those situations. However when Deku grew and grew in the hero charts he started to lose touch with reality. Not really remembering what being a hero was about besides having his face stuck on a lunch box and raking in the dough for it. It was sad. You didn’t know who he was anymore.

Y/N: fuck it, i’m in

-

“You know, don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a tux before.” You chuckle, arm linked around Bakugou’s as you stepped out of the chauffeured car together. You were here to make a scene. Paparazzi glistened everywhere like a moth to a candle flame. You couldn’t wait for the tabloids in all honesty.

“Shut up.” Bakugou grumbled, almost in embarrassment. But his smile didn’t show a hint of it. “Not looking too bad yourself.”

You had coordinated well. Your maroon dress flowed in the gentle summer breeze and matched perfectly to Bakugou’s equally coloured tux. You two were such a pair it was nigh impossible to not think that you two were together today. And the paparazzi made sure of that indefinitely.

You couldn’t lie about how the service was beautiful, because it was. However you didn’t need to hear the shutter clicks of a camera go off every few words they spoke. It was distracting, and you and Bakugou shared a glance each time it occurred. Stifling a giggle, you hoped no camera would pick that up. Even if they did, they’d probably pin it to ‘look at these other heroes wishing that they were the next to get married!’ they’d eat that shit uplike ambrosia.

“Can’t wait to see the reception.” You mumbled towards Bakugou, your plastic smiles never fading for the cameras. Izuku making a show of himself and his new bride.

Watching him was almost bittersweet. The happy memories of you three as children flashing behind your eyes. Now replaced with a fame hungry number one hero. Where had all the time gone?

“What’s got you so perplexed?” Katsuki asked, filtering your way through the crowd, making your way to the cars that would deliver you all to the reception.

“Just-“ You sigh, allowing the cover of other heroes to hide you from the all seeing eyes of the paparazzi. “I miss him, y’know? Miss how we used to be.”

“Tch.” Bakugou didn’t care about the scowl present on his face, your words ate him up like some sort of bacteria. “Thought you said that he was the most selfish guy you’d ever dated?”

“He was but like-” You watched Izuku’s back as he held his new partner’s hand. Waving to the cameras and not watching her, as lovely as she looked in her wedding gown. “As weird as it sounds, I sometimes miss high school.”

Bakugou’s eyes scanned your face, following your eyesight to Midoriya. Fucking extra. The thoughts swam around his head, polluting his mind. He knew Izuku’s break up with you had been a massive toll on your mental health and your ego. He made you think that you weren’t good enough for him, and Bakugou never got over that fact. How could he pass up on you for anything else?

Breaking apart from the conglomerative of wedding-goers, Bakugou lead you to one of the specially hired cars to take the guests to the reception. Despite Bakugou’s abrasive and rough nature, you couldn’t help but notice how delicately he held your hand. Not tugging you along or haphazardly grabbing you by your wrist, making you follow him. No, his fingers interlaced with yours and you felt the coarseness of his palms due to the explosive nature of his quirk.

“Katsu?”

“Hm?”

“You can let go of my hand now, we’re in the car.”

“Yeah- whatever.”

Catching up in the car, you both realise how little time you have to actually spend with each other. Though you and Bakugou communicate 1000 times more than you do with Midoriya, heroing keeps you both busy. No times like these to goof off and be with each other. You missed it, you missed your hot-headed idiot friend.

“Hope there’s less fuckin’ paparazzi here. Think I’m gonna go blind with those extras pointing them in my face.” Bakugou rolled down the tinted window a smidge to watch as the car drove into an old looking manor hall where guests had already begun to arrive.

Flowers decorated the ground and just as you two got your hopes up, you saw a line of paparazzi at each side of the staircase leading to the double-doored entrance.

“Well, it was worth a try.” You remark to him, patting his back as you chuckled to him.

Bakugou was the first to exit, standing beside the door so he could reach for your hand to help you out while you fixed your dress. Just as the two of you began to reach for each other's arms to walk into the reception together; there was a brusque tug to your dress. Upon further inspection, a member of the shutterbugs had stood on a long section of your dress. Allowing himself to get pictures of it stretched out and flowy.

“Hey!” Bakugou didn’t waste time on pushing him off the tail end of the dress. “Try anything funny like that again with my girl and say goodbye to that shitty camera of yours!”

The man nodded, slowly letting his camera hang loose on his neck. The rest of the cameramen easily caught the scene but you both couldn’t care less. What’s a wedding without a little drama?

“Thanks Katsuki.” You note with a soft smile.

Bakugou’s hand tenderly makes its way around the small of your back until his arm is holding you close to him as you walk inside. His hand sitting in a caring way at your hip to assure that nothing could come between you both. You could not wait for the media to plaster this fake-ness on every outlet that they could! However, you liked the thought of relishing in the attention right now.

Once the dining festivities had come and gone. It was time for their first dance. Watching as he held her under the blue lighting had your heart hurting slightly. The thought that that could’ve been you. But Bakugou was right. He’s probably marrying some quirkless nobody not only to make himself look better, but being with another hero is messy. You both had media eyes on you; but… you couldn’t help but wonder how different your life would be like if Midoriya was how he used to be.

You didn’t even notice Bakugou’s eyes on you the whole time. Not wanting to waste a second of his eyesight on the show Izuku was putting on. You were a sight of your own. How could you not see that you deserved someone better? Someone like him. You always spoke about how everyone was under a facade when supporting Deku, but you never correlated that to yourself.

After a short while, others began to join in on the large dance floor. Perfectly spacious for all the famous faces and their egos. Bakugou’s hand traced down your arm until his hand clasped with yours, gently leading you to the floor yourselves.

“What’re you doing?”

“Come on, who’s to say we can’t have some fun too huh?”

Smiling at him, you followed his lead. His hand occupying your waist before pulling you in closer to his chest. Flowing with the music, you couldn’t help the cheesy smile on your face; nor the one that spread to Bakugou’s.

“Why’s no one ever tied down Mr. Ground Zero then?” Your question takes Bakugou by surprise, showing a small blip in your combined graceful swaying to the music.

“No ones good enough.” Such a Bakugou answer.

“You’re sounding like Izuku, but he probably got that from the old you.” You jested, earning an eye roll from Bakugou. “I’m being serious! Come on you can tell me.”

It takes him a moment to figure out an answer, so much so that he doesn’t focus on dancing anymore. He just stands there holding you before locking eyes again.

“Just haven’t found the right person to deal with my bullshit I guess.”

There’s a beat of silence and your eyes search his face for answers. You didn’t even realise how close you were to him. His breath fanning your face, the smell of oak and fire and burning sweetness engulfed your senses. You also didn’t realise how the two of you sank closer and closer into one another.

“Hey Kacchan, mind if I steal her from you?”

Izuku’s voice almost sends you two flying away from each other like same sides of a magnet.

“Ask her yourself she’s not mine.” You turn from Bakugou to give a friendly smile to Midoriya, allowing your hand to rest in his. “I’ll be at the bar. Free drinks and all.”

His answers are short, curt. Yet before you can ask him if he’s alright Deku spins you and begins to dance with you in his arms at the tempo of the new music track that’s playing.

“Long time no see Y/N!” His manner has always been so chipper, despite the facade of it all. Though Bakugou and you went there to purposefully to cause discourse; you don’t think you have it in you to be mean to Izuku’s face.

“Yeah, look at you! Married man now, must be scary.” You chuckle, almost nervously. It was like speaking to a stranger.

“Well I guess I’ll find out! But come on that’s been the subject of the whole day! I wanna know about you and Kacchan.” You felt like Bakugou right now, the old nickname boiling your blood as it did his. There was no doubt Izuku took influence from Bakugou and his fiery personality; but he took it in all the wrong ways. Using confidence to become cold, uncaring.

“Oh- haha, Katsuki and I aren’t-“

“Y/N. Don’t lie to me! I can see the way he’s burning holes in my tux from over here.”

Turning you to the music so you could face where Katsuki was standing, you peaked behind Midoriya’s arm to see Bakugou with an all too familiar scowl on his face. Chasing down a beverage in a crystalline glass in one easy gulp.

“If you ask me Midoriya he’s always looked at you that way.” You laugh your statement off but you meant it with malice.

“Midoriya? Feeling formal today are we Y/N?” He had completely lost touch of who he used to be. “I used to look at you like that when I saw you with other guys, I know what that look is.”

His comment stops you dead in your tracks, not allowing for him to swing you to and fro to the music.

“Actually Midoriya I don’t even remember you looking me with jealous intent other than when I was higher than you on the hero charts.” Shaking yourself free from his towering position on you, you stormed off to the patio doors, letting yourself be eaten by the oncoming darkness of night.

Crying at your ex’s wedding. Not something you’d think you’d ever do in your lifetime but here you were. Thankfully you couldn’t see any reporters or such outside so for now, it was just you and your tears. Maybe you were too harsh on him? You used to be friends right? What happened to that kid who wanted to be a hero who you looked up to? What happened to the boyfriend you had who kissed you goodnight and ignored you when your face was on the TV more than him or snapped at you when he was announced lower than you and broke up with you because ‘heroes dating are messy!’ No. Bakugou was right. He was a self-righteous bastard now.

“Y/N?”

You half expected Midoriya to come out after you but he was probably entertaining other guests. Luckily, as you turned you saw Bakugou standing outside with you, signature hands in his pockets with a dumb, sympathetic smirk on his face.

“Hey.”

“I promise I didn’t punch that asshole at his own wedding but I can tell you he got a fuckin’ earful from me. Hope the paps got a good pic.” His tone was joking but it hadn’t cracked a smile from you yet.

“S’alright. Wouldn’t give two shits if you did.” You sniffled, collecting mascara tears on your fingers and wiping them on the decorative concrete bannisters of the balcony. “Shouldn’t’ve fucking come. This was stupid I have too much baggage for this shit.”

You turned away from him, allowing yourself to lean out on the barrier, looking into the distance on the warm night. You could hear Bakugou give a small sigh before his arms snuck around your waist, pulling your back into his chest before placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

“That fuckin’ idiot didn’t know what he lost and it’s my fault for influencin’ him.” The pain in his voice was evident. Did Bakugou blame himself for the hurt Midoriya caused you?

“Katsu-“

“No. That extra is so blinded by the shit everyone has to say that he’s forgotten what real life is. Doesn’t care about his stupid fans or his friends or the best most understanding girl in the whole fucking world. A girl I know does the best for everyone no matter what her own situation is.” You turn around to face him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Y/N. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to fuckin’ win I’ve just wanted the best for you. And when that bastard did what he did to you- I- fuck. You look at him, like you’re waiting for him to just notice you; but every time I see you it’s like I’m seeing you set the stars in the sky every fuckin night. You just- you’re fuckin’ everything to me Y/N.”

It was completely silent on the balcony besides the low thump of the music from indoors, but it was deafening. But it all faded when his lips attached to yours. It was so clear. All that pining over Midoriya when he was just copying the one who actually saw you for who you were. He even copied Bakugou’s crush on you, most likely to make him jealous. But your mind had no time to think of that when all you could feel was Bakugou.

It was like you had never been kissed before, never felt the love and sensuality behind it. Soft and moist but breathy and warm. For once Bakugou didn’t wish to win a battle, he wanted unity and to be together with you. His hands danced over the delicate curves of you in your dress; taking in every inch of your perfect body. The gasp that fell from your mouth was perfect entrance for Bakugou’s tongue to mingle with yours. The sparks hot and electric between you both was like liquid lightning.

Just as your hands found home in his hair, you heard the all too familiar sound of today of a photo being taken. Bakugou is the first to break the kiss to find the intruder of your special moment. Your lips already feel blushed and bruised but your heart was nearly pounding out your chest.

“Fuckin’ print that in your gossip magazine you extra!” Bakugou couldn’t help but heartily laugh at the man as he shook with worry after catching the intimate moment. He wanted to show you off. He wasn’t ashamed that his lips had captured you to be his.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He whispers into your ear and you eagerly nod, grasping his one hand with your two as the both of you manouvered your way through the wedding guests until you finally found a small closet down a hallway where no one from the party had entered.

Slamming the door shut behind you, your eyes drank in Bakugou’s frame. How had you missed that small boy you once knew had now become this beefy, beautiful man? Who was looking at you with the same awe and intent? Bakugou cornered you against the door of the supply closet, latching his lips together with yours once again as if he was scared he’d never be able to taste you again.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect.” Katsuki’s lips mashed with yours as his hands slid up your dress, the coarseness of his fingers against your soft skin sending shivers down your spine.

All those years of being a hero really showed on Bakugou, he lifted you with ease as your fingers traced scars on the back of his neck; holding on for support. His hips pin you against the door and you feel his cock hardening between the fabric of your underwear and his suit pants, you can’t help the whimper escaping your lips at the friction of him.

Bakugou’s hands slip under the straps of your dress, letting them fall delicately to your sides as his lips ensnare yours. His grunts and your whimpers enough to make any passerby know what was going on in the confined space of the closet. His fingers glide beneath the dress which allowed it to fall further as Bakugou felt the weight of your breasts in his palms.

“God you’re fucking everything princess.” His fingers slide beneath the lacy fabric to thumb your nipples, perking and tugging it with his forefinger.

Breaking the kiss, his head lowers to encapsulate the bud in his mouth. Gently suckling it before rolling it feverishly between his teeth. Your hands snaking through his hair only spurring the assault on your supple flesh. Biting your lip to stop the obvious moans that were threatening to spill out of your mouth. You swore you could see stars as his tongue flicked against the pointed nub- sending your nerves wild.

“Bet that fucking extra never treated you like this baby.” He matched your height, his gaze never leaving your own as he took both of your tits out of your bra; kneading the flesh and buds of your nipples as he spoke. “Just wanted to get himself off, I know how to fuckin’ treat you right.”

“Then do it… Kacchan.” You spoke with such gusto in your breathy state, knowing that the old nickname would make him see red. And god did it send him feral.

His body pressed you further into the door, even if it felt like he couldn’t. The aching feel of his cock rubbing against your clothed core made you mewl in want of him. His fingers slid beneath the hem of your dress and made little pricking motions into your inner thighs until he traced a slit over your panties.

“Shit you’re fucking wet.” The pads of his fingers kneading against where you wanted him most, a chuckle falling his lips as your hips did their best to try and get any sort of relief.

“Katsuki please- please fuck oh my god-“ Your neck craned back as you felt your body take control. The low growl in Bakugou’s throat at the sight of you barely touched and already begging for him.

Tracing his fingers along your décolletage he stopped when he met your parted lips before roughly shoving his fingers in your mouth, pressing down the body of your tongue.

“Please please please-“ Katsuki mocked. “Please what princess? Better use your fuckin’ words or else.”

An insufferable smirk played upon his lips as he felt your cunt clench around nothing at his dirty words. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he wiped the remnants of your spit across your tits; awaiting for your response.

“Fuck me Katsuki- please you’re all I want. God you’re all I need.” Although said in your aroused state. You meant it- and he knew that.

Not wasting any more of the precious time you two had before you were inevitably found out considering your blatant disregard for being quiet; Bakugou used his hand to tug off his belt. Nearly setting his suit pants on fire as his quirk crackled in anticipation for you.

Your body clung to Bakugou’s for support, his whole body easily keeping your pinned high between himself and the door. Once his lower half was sufficiently stripped, it was easy enough for him to rip the sides of your underwear off.

“Katsu-“

“Shut up.”

Not wanting to disagree; you did. Hips bucking against nothing as the cool air prickled at your hot cunt. Bakugou held his manhood in his hand, rubbing the head of it in your slick and providing stimulation to your clit. Your thighs tightening around his waist like a vice grip at the well needed attention.

“You’re fuckin’ soaking baby. So needy.” Bakugou mumbled against your neck, allowing himself and you to get off momentarily at the friction. You could only nod to his words which were making you more and more wet for him. He was such a tease.

“Come on princess. Tell me you want my cock. Tell me.” His voice growled as he repeated himself, leaving marks upon your nape that would surely bruise because of his harsh bites and sucklings.

“Katsuki I need you- only you. Only you.” Your repetition is barely a whisper but he heard it, and despite his rough nature Bakugou confines your lips in a kiss as he sheaths himself inside of you.

Taking a few slow thrusts to allow yourself to adapt to his size, it’s only a moment before Bakugou completely bottoms out inside of you. He watches your face shiver in pleasure which he mirrors. He clasps your hips so firmly his knuckles turn white; it didn’t even hurt as all you could focus on was him inside you. Your hands find their way to his biceps, gripping on for some tension relief and you could still feel his muscles flex even beneath his suede blazer and the shirt.

“What a good fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this.” Bakugou’s voice is a low growl as he thrusts into you, the sounds of your clothes brushing against one another and the slaps of your skin interacting was like a sinful symphony.

The smell of caramel danced in your brain as Bakugou worked up a sweat absolutely pummeling himself into your sex. You grasped onto him as if your life depended on it, moaning into his neck as his cock slid in and out of you. You didn’t even know how much time was passing as he rutted himself into you relentlessly- yet as you both came to your highs, you could both barely move from the thrill of it all.

Steadying your breaths back to a regular pace; Bakugou slid you down from where he had pinned you against the door and let you fix yourself as he then did himself. You sorted your dress and pulled any tugs from your hair when he had pulled it before slapping Bakugou’s arm.

“You dick! You ripped my underwear!”

“Hot.” He chuckled, fixing his belt loops and stuffing the ripped panties into his pocket.

“Not funny! I’m not parading about with no underwear on!”

“We’re getting the fuck out of this extras stupid wedding. You can wear my clothes at my place.” Suitably sorted and not looking like you had just had the brains fucked out of you in a closet (despite the reddening bites and bruises that were now appearing on your neck), Bakugou held you close. Yet instead of taking the corridor to the exit, he was leading you back to the main dance hall.

“Where’re we going?” You hashly whispered to Bakugou, your thighs still wet from your slick and the cool air against your unclothed pussy making you heat up from embarrassment.

“Gots to do one thing before we go.” There’s a shit eating grin on his face, you couldn't help but wonder what on earth he was planning now.

Midoriya stood talking to other heroes all dressed in their formal attire and Bakugou (with no consideration of their conversation) roughly tapped his shoulder to get his immediate attention. His arm around your waist was so tight but being see with Bakugou like this made you feel almost proud.

“We’re just heading off.” Bakugou had replaced his smile for his usual scowl, something he had always looked at Izuku with.

“Going so soon? It’ll be a shame you guys!” Izuku’s voice was plastered in falsehood. He probably regretted trying to gloat over you two. Bakugou held out his hand for Midoriya to shake it, your brows furrowed on what was obviously a stepping stone to Bakugou’s plan.

“I know I might not be better at you right now in the hero charts.”

Uh oh.

“I’m glad you’ve finally come to recognise that Kaccha-“

“But I am better at you at something for sure.”

Bakugou used Midoriya’s hand in his to pull him closer, readying himself to whisper in his ear.

“Cause I just fucked the shit out of your ex-girlfriend and I know you never made her come as hard as I did.”

Your face burned with the heat of a million suns, but the glower on Izuku’s face was priceless. And you couldn’t help but see the flash of a camera capture the moment as Bakugou’s hand fell from his and slipped once again around your waist.

[ravenprinzess]

Hiii! I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do a Genshin highschool au (modern au??? Idk what to call it-) and how Childe, Hu Tao, Kazuha and Diluc would confess to their crush (idk I just think it's a cute idea)

Anyways feel free to ignore! Thanks and have a nice day, dont forget to eat or drink water!

how would genshin characters confess to their crush at school.

featuring ; childe, hu tao, kazuha, diluc.

genre ; fluff.

warning ; none.

note ; thanks for requesting !! and you too, don't forget to take care of yourself. <3

𓄷 childe 𖤐

this dork has been in love with you for as long as he could remember.

he'd always slip you notes during classes, even though he'd know the two of you would most likely to get caught.

during breaks he'd sit with you, no matter where you decided to hang out.

sitting outside under the large tree ? he'd let you rest your head on his lap and play with your hair.

hiding in the library ? he'd hide with you, although he's not a big fan of the place.

sitting on the benches in the sports field ? he'd get jealous that you're looking at the other male students playing.

but he wouldn't say a word about it.

instead, he'd just tease you about it and laugh at your embarrassment.

but he knew that he'd have to tell you his feelings one day.

and this day came faster than you had expected it to be.

since the prom was coming up, he thought he'd confess by asking you to be his date.

"are we there yet ?" your voice echoed through the empty halls as childe lead you somewhere with his hands over his eyes to cover your vision. "impatient, are we ?" he let out a soft, teasing chuckle while keeping his hands on your eyes. "but childe," a pout formed on your lips as you whined playfully. "you know that i hate surprises." which was true, and he also knew it. however, he couldn't find another way to do it. soon enough, you sensed that the two of you were outside due to the wind blowing gently through your hair.

"i am well aware." the ginger responded with a grin forming on his lips before finally removing his hands from your eyes. you found yourself standing in front of the large tree where you two had met years ago. he was the new boy back then, he got lost and found you, you gave him a tour and gave him a warm welcome to the school - and that's how a beautiful friendship was formed.

just then your gaze fell upon a sign that was hanging on the tree.

"prom ?"

it said. your eyes widened in surprise, turning to face the man almost immediately.

"is that a yes ?"

"of course !"

"i love you, (y/n)."

... "i love you too, childe."

𓄷 hu tao 𖤐

this little prankster had probably realized her feelings for you when she watched you interact with an upperclassman.

the shameful feeling of jealousy clung to her chest, but she quickly brushed it off.

you weren't hers yet.

but she wanted you to be hers.

and so she came up with a brilliant idea.

she'd confess to you in halloween.

whilst trick or treating.

"come on, (y/n) !" the female let out, huffing playfully as she waited for you to get ready. the two of you had matching customs - which were mainly her idea. the girl dressed up as the devil, twirling around in her brand new, black dress; while you were dressed up as an angel. your white outfit had suited your curved perfectly, and she was quick to admire it. she also thought an angel suited you. after all, you were kind and considerate. you were the only person who tolerated her and still stuck in with her.

a soft chuckle escaped from her lips, causing the tips of her ears to turn into a dark shade of pink. she found your chuckle attractive - but if she were more honest with herself, she'd say that anything about you was absoloutely breathtaking and endearing. "come on, i don't want to be late ! i still need to pull pranks on people." the brunette pouted, causing you to roll your eyes playfully.

"alright, alright." you responded shortly to calm her down, feeling as her hand grabbed onto yours before dragging you all the way to the school. why ? because the staff promised a spooky party; and hu tao would never be the one to miss out on spooky things.

when the two of you approached the school, you could sense the sudden change in hu tao's aura. she was far more cheerful than usual, her eyes glimmered in the moonlight, reflecting the light from the moon. you shook your hand, being dragged inside. the female knew she had to confess at some point, and so she decided to do it here. sure, it'll be awkward if you were to reject her- but, at least it wouldn't hurt as much.

"reach into my basket." she hummed, handing out to you her basket - which was filled with candies even before you got an attempt to help her with it. your eyes widened in confusion, and yet you listened to her, slipping your fingers into the basket. your fingers soon brushed against a piece of paper, which you had soon picked up.

hu tao felt her heart bursting out of her chest when she watched you silently reading the confession later she had written you just a couple of hours ago.

"i like you a lot, please be mine. - hu tao."

what an adorable dork.

𓄷 kazuha 𖤐

the two of you had become friends due to the fact that you were in the same afterschool club.

you've decided to join the martial arts club of the school whilst he was the leader.

you've admired how strong he was; probably the strongest student in school.

and you've found it pretty cool that no one dared to mess with him because of it.

and then there's him - he liked you because you were brave.

like wow, you wanted to spar with him every week ? admirable.

but he'd always refuse because he didn't want to hurt you.

"we'll spar when you become a bit stronger."

and so you started learning harder.

it made his flutter, that you care so much about the club.

"let's spar now, kazuha !" you greeted the man this afternoon upon entering the club room. the male was holding a papersheet in his hands, his head was seemingly buried in it. what was he reading ? but then his head jerked up once he heard your voice. "are you sure ?" he asked, raising his brow. he was unsure at first, but the excitment in your eyes made him flustered for a mere second.

"i am sure, i'll be fine." you reassured him, squeezing his shoulder gently in the process. you then made your way towards the center of the room; getting ready by stretching yourself before standing in the intial fighting position. kazuha was hesitant for a moment, but ended up giving in the more you insisted. he then stood in front of you before with a sigh. "let's test your self defense skills."

kazuha has seemingly underestimated his own strength, seeing as you fell onto the ground after he swung his leg towards you. a soft groan escaped from your lips, the male immediately rushing to your side. "i-i'm sorry." he began to speak frantically. "i didn't mean to harm you. i- i love you."

you opened your mouth to protest, to tell him you were fine. but; you froze when you had suddenly processed his sudden confession. it seemed like he too, caught onto that - his face immediately turning red. "anyways," he coughed out, his eyes refusing to meet yours. "let's work on you self defense skills."

𓄷 diluc 𖤐

now, this is a tricky one.

this man is stone-cold, and somehow you managed to befriend him.

all because he was your partner in a school project.

the two of you sat in his house and worked on the project - you were a bit more talkative than he was.

he would usually respond with nods and hums.

somehow, the more you spent time with him - the more he grew closer to you.

he soon realized that he was in love with you; especially when he had a weird, unexplainable feeling inside of him when he was around you.

the two of you had another project, this time each student alone. however, he decided to help you.

what you didn't expect though, was the confession in the end.

"here is your work, (y/n)." diluc approached you in the morning, holding a small book containing your work in his hands. "thank you, diluc. i hope this wasn't a burden for you." you responded, smiling gently as you took the book into your hands. you were rather curious - though you wrote most of it - there were parts that he himself wrote as a way to help you.

your fingers trailed across the small book before opening it, your eyes scanning the papersheets. it was neatly printed; you were impressed. your computer was slow, thus it was a hassle to attempt. thankfully, due to being born into a wealthy family - he had countless of ways to print.

your eyes wandered across the content within, impressed by the information he had found himself. soon enough you reached the ending, a small note slipping out into your lap. your brow was raised in a questioning manner while the red haired man tensed. "what's wrong ?" you hummed, opening the note. to say that what was written there had surprised you was an understatement. it made you freeze in your spot, your face heating up.

"(y/n), will you go out with me ? - diluc."

[juviaafullbuster]

IN EVERY UNIVERSE

"JUVIAAAA"

He should have known. He should have seen it coming the moment he heard that blue cat call out her name. Of course nothing good would come from this. That stupid cat, exceed, whatever he is, was raised by Natsu after all.  But he didn't think much of it when he saw him flying towards Juvia, who was currently sitting with the other girls and landing in the middle of their table.

"Yes Happy?"

"Remember what I told you when we came back from Edolas?"

Happy was wiggling his tail excitedly, while trying to hold back from spilling the information immediately. After all, he lives for the drama. Juvia on the other hand was just looking at him, confusion written all over her face.

"Juvia isn't following.."

"You know, about the Juvia in Edolas and how the Gray there is obsessed with her.."

"Oh yes! Of course Juvia remembers that! The other Juvia is very lucky.."

"Yeah, and guess what? She got even luckier. Turns out they've got-"

"HAPPY!"

Gray had to stop him before he spilled too much. Why were they on the other side of the hall anyways? Juvia was always stuck to him whenever he came back from a mission. Why did she have to abandon him now of all times?

"What is it Gray? I'm busy delivering information."

"If you don't shut it that's the last information you'll ever deliver."

At that Happy visibly gulped. Gray was sure he was considering whether it was worth taking the risk. He probably still remembered the incident where Gray had declared him his enemy. Gray himself didn't remember much of what happened, just that it wasn't his proudest moment when he woke up half naked on an island surrounded by strangers. Now however, he was glad it had happened. At least that cat knew what he was dealing with and wouldn't dare to finish that sentence.

"Hey popsicle, are you threatening Happy?"

This just keeps getting better. Of course Natsu had to get involved as well. All he wanted was to enjoy being back home and spending some time with Juvia. And he wasn't doing either. Really, the last thing he needed was Natsu and his damn cat to ruin things for him.

"I don't threaten anyone unless necessary. So if you want to save him from trouble, tell your cat to back off."

"I'M AN EXCEED!"

"Like I care. Point is, shut up."

"HEY, DON'T TALK TO HAPPY LIKE THAT!"

"Stay out of it, flamebrain!"

"IF HAPPY IS INVOLVED, I'M INVOLVED."

"Whatever.."

He just needed to get to Juvia. There was no need to participate in the conversation with Natsu. Not that you could actually hold one. It would always end in a fight and if that idiot doesn't shut up soon, Gray was sure that this will be the case today as well. So he decided to be the bigger person and ignore Natsu, no matter how much he was provoked. However Natsu didn't get the message.

"What's up with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're being weird lately. Happy noticed too, right Happy?"

"Aye!"

"I'm not being weird, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I think it's because he's jealous of you!"

"WHY WOULD I BE JEALOUS OF NATSU?"

"He did tell me what happened.. is it because he has more woman than you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You know, that snow woman. He had quite a lot on his side, you however just had-"

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

Like it wasn't bad enough that he was going to tell Juvia about their Edolas counterparts, she really didn't need to know about that whole woman in the depth of his heart thing.

"You're jealous of me?"

"Who's jealous of who?

"Gray is jealous of Natsu."

"Seriously?"

"NO!"

That's it. He's going to kill that cat. But first he'll have to deal with Natsu because he was costing him his nerves as well. So next thing he knew, they were throwing fists at each other until Erza forcefully stopped them.

"What is this about? Explain yourself before I pull out my sword."

"Grays being mean to Happy."

"That's because Happy is stupid! Probably got it from you.."

"SILENCE! Happy!"

"Yes?"

"Explain!"

"Well, Gray is being mean to me just because I wanted to tell Juvia about what we saw in Edolas. I don't see why he's so worked up over it, I mean I was just going to say that they're married."

"Who's married?"

"Gray and Juvia!"

Silence. The whole guild went silent. Well, except for Happys snickering. Gray could swear he felt his soul leave his body. He was certain he would never hear the end of it. After all, he could already feel the eyes on him.

"Gray and Juvia are married in Edolas?" It was Juvia who decided to break the awful silence. Happy nodded eagerly in response to her question.

More silence. Or as Gray would say, the calm before the storm.

"Is that true?" Juvia was looking at him with wide eyes. He knows her well enough by now to know exactly what was currently going on in her head. He could tell her imagination was going wild with wedding pictures. But she was clearly holding back from squealing, instead she kept staring at him, desperately waiting for an answer. Gray sighed.

"Yes.."

And then all hell broke loss. Mira was cornering him trying to find out as much as possible, while Cana kept adding her inappropriate comments. Elfman starting shouting something about marriage being manly, whatever that meant. By the time Gray had managed to escape from them Juvia was no longer in sight.

"Juvia?"

"She went outside, said she needed to cool down."  Lucy smirked proudly, making Gray fear her next sentence. "Good thing you're an ice wizard. Who else could cool her down?"

"Hilarious. I'm going outside."

"Of course you are."

Gray didn't bother reacting anymore. Instead he went to search for Juvia. The cold air outside hit him in the face. It wasn't until now that he realized how stuffy it was in there.

He distanced himself from the guild hall while keeping an eye out for his bluenette. He really had missed her during his mission and now that he was back, he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. After all, he had finally acknowledged his feelings for her and after seeing their counterparts in Edolas and that vision he had been trapped in, it just made him long for her more.

Those feelings still freaked him out somehow. He wasn't aware that he was capable of feeling this much for someone. But Juvia had really broken down every single one of his walls. And he was really grateful for that. She was the one who kept pulling him back whenever he was close to the edge. She's his power to live, even though having admitted that so bluntly in front of her still got him all embarrassed. And her teasing didn't help one bit.

"Juvia!" He spotted her on a bench near the lake. She seemed lost in thought. When she heard his voice however, she immediately spun around.

"Graysama! Juvia is sorry for leaving so abruptly.."

"Don't worry about that. Are you okay?"

He sat down next to her. Usually he would leave a space between them, not wanting to give her any ideas. But things changed. And now here he was, sitting as close to her as possible, longing for her touch. Juvia smiled at him.

"Juvia is very happy that you're back."

"I'm happy to be back too. I.." He cleared his throat and looked away shyly. "I missed you."

"Juvia missed you too. Juvia was wondering whether you were doing alright, if you manged to stay dressed and whether the others bothered to pick up the clothes you discarded.." she kept talking but Gray was too focused on her beauty, wondering how he'd gotten so lucky having someone like her in his life.

"I want what they have as well." Gray had blurted out the thought before he could realize it.

"What who has?" Juvia questioned him. He could go back on his word, pretend he never said it. But what's the point? He was just making himself suffer by prolonging it. And he had promised her to be clear with his intentions once he got back, not that he got to finish that promise before he was swept back to Elentir. Point is, it was time for him to be honest.

"I want what Edolas Gray and Juvia have.."

"You want.. you want to marry Juvia!?"

"What? No!"

"No?"

This wasn't going the way he wanted it all. Gray sighed.

"One day."

"One day?"

"Yes, one day I'm going to marry you. But I think it's still a little early for that. To be fair, our counterparts in Edolas are older.."

Juvia just kept looking at him in disbelief. He couldn't blame her. It wasn't exactly his style to be so open and honest. They didn't start dating yet and he was already talking about marriage. Juvia had really impacted him..

"Listen. I want to be with you. Like Edo Gray is with Edo Juvia, like Fairy Nail Glen is with Fairy Nail Juvina.. I want Earthland Gray to be with Earthland Juvia as well."

"What's Fairy Nail? And who is Juvina?"

"That's a long story.. point is I want to be with you. I'm sorry I'm not as clear with my intentions as the other me. But that doesn't mean I want you less than he wants his Juvia.."

By this point Gray was a blushing mess. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, too afraid to see her reaction. He had literally just run her over with emotions.

"Graysama doesn't have to be sorry."

"Huh?"

"For not being as clear with his feelings. I feel in love with this version of Gray, the Earthland version. Juvia wouldn't change a thing about you."

Gray smiled at her. She was truly too perfect. How did she always know what to say? She seemed so calm and collected while he was literally trying his best not to freak out.

"And Juvia would like that very much as well. Earthland Gray and Earthland Juvia being together.." she was looking at Gray sweetly and he couldn't help the smile that took over his face.

"I promise to be the best version of myself for you."

"You already are."

They smiled at each other and Gray tucked behind the hair that had fallen into her face. He found himself leaning closer and he saw Juvia doing the same. He had just closed his eyes, just a little away from finally kissing her after thinking about it for so long, when a voice interrupted them, making them jump apart.

"Gray loves Juvia!"

"Quiet Happy!

"They are so cute together."

"About time he made a move."

How had he not seen them hiding behind that bush. He'll admit Lucy, Wendy and Charles were hidden pretty well, but Natsus pink hair and Happys blue fur were visible to everyone. And Erza hadn't even bothered hiding. He must have been too focused on the girl in front of him to notice. Said girl was now blushing furiously.

"I'm going to kick their asses.."

"Juvia thinks it's sweet that they're so supportive of you. You have a great team."

"How are they a great team? They literally interrupted a very important moment."

"Juvia knows.. but Juvia is very happy already."

"So you don't want me to kiss you?"

"Juvia didn't say that!"

He was truly enjoying teasing her. So much, he was able to ignore his friends presence. So instead of letting them ruin their moment, he leaned in and finally, after so long, kissed her. It took her a moment to react, but once she did, Gray felt like the luckiest person in the universe. He was never going to let her go.

"Juvia loves you very much."

"And I love Juvia very much."

He kissed her again, already addicted. His friends were cheering, probably happy that he finally made a move. He couldn't blame them, it took him long enough.

"All that because I told her about Edolas Gray and Juvias marriage. Imagine what she'll do when she hears about Greige.."

"Who's Greige?"

"HAPPY!"

♡♡♡

Here you have it, my contribution to Gruvia day! I hope you like it, let me know what you think :)

Also, I'm still fangirling over the drawing we got today. Maybe I'll write something about that too one day..

Anyways, happy Gruvia day! ♡

[dorotheataylor]

Steal my girl

Pairing: James Sirius Potter x Fem!Malfoy!Reader

Summary: When James gets jealous over your obsession with a certain boy band, he finds that very band the key to win your heart.

Warnings: None, just fluff, my poor English :)

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: You and James are in your 7th year. Plus I’m myself a directioner. (Song featured- Steal my girl by One direction.)

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

You were walking through the Hogwarts grounds to take a break from everyday routine. You put your headphones on your head and played songs of a muggle band called One Direction, which you came to love so much recently.

You reached your secret spot near Black lake about which only you and and your best friend James knew about. You sat down and stared at the lake as songs got played and bobbed your head with beats. You didn’t notice when James came up beside you until he took your headphones off.

“Geez Y/N, how much loudly do you listen? I’ve been calling you since past five minutes,” he said before putting them on his head, “Woah this loud! And again One Direction?”

“I didn’t want any outside noise and yes again,” you said teasingly. James rolled his eyes.

“Wanna go prank Albus and Scorpius?” he suggested. It was strange that your younger brothers were best friends knowing their parents’ history.

You shook your head. “Nah, I’d rather listen to One Direction.”

He groaned, “Ugh c’mon, you’ve been listening to them since I don’t remember how long. Hang out with me too.”

“And why should I do that?” you teased.

“Because I am the chosen one’s son,” he replied.

“Oh shove off,” you said pushing him slightly by his shoulders before placing your headphones back.

He rolled his eyes. He sat there for some more time and stared at you and wondered how he could get your attention. He couldn’t think of anything so he got up and left. You looked at him walking away towards the castle and couldn’t help but feel a little bad for not spending time with him.

On his way back he ran his hands through his soft hair. ‘I’ve been wanting her attention since a very long time and now she is obsessed with that stupid band’ he thought.

“What should I do?” he yelled in frustration to which Fred Weasley, who heard him, came up to him. 

“Why are you yelling?” he asked.

So he told him all his feelings towards you and how he was jealous of that band. Fred listened to everything he said carefully. He caressed his chin as if thinking very deeply. And after sometime he finally said-

“Do you know her favorite song of the band?”

“No,” James replied with a pout and feeling a little guilty about not knowing your favorite song.

“Hmm, I’ve an idea,” 

“What is it?”

He whispered something in James’ ears and as he went on, the smile on James’ face grew bigger and bigger.

“That’s a brilliant idea!” he exclaimed.

“I know.” Fred replied proudly.

“We do it tonight.” James said grinning.

Meanwhile you were still sitting near Black Lake listening songs until you felt hungry and saw the sky growing darker. You got up, brushed yourself and your dress a little and walked off towards The Great Hall.

When you reached there you saw James standing with a guitar and waving at you. You didn’t knew what he was doing so you just waved back awkwardly.

He winks at you making your cheeks turn pink before turning towards Fred. He whispered something in his ears and then he climbed on the Gryffindor table with his guitar.

“Everyone, can I have your attention?” he said loudly as everyone turned their heads towards him.

“Mr. Potter, what are you doing?” Mcgonagall asked.

“Relax Professor,” he said before continuing, “So I learned this one song for that beautiful lady standing over there” he said pointing at you, “Y/N Malfoy. Maybe then she’ll be obsessed with me.”

You walked up to him and whisper-yelled, “James get down.”

“Just wait and see,” he said before clearing his throat and started playing his guitar and sang- 

“She’s been my queen, since we were sixteen

“We want the same things we dream the same the dreams, alright.”

You immediately recognized the song when he sang the first line. And you couldn’t help but think of him as a younger version of Harry Styles.

He continued, “I got it all ‘cause she is the one, her mom calls me love, her dad calls me son, alright.”

And it wasn’t wrong. Your mom, Astoria, had always called him love or dear like names and your dad, Draco, has also called him son many times. And at his house, his mother, Ginny, also adored you and his dad, Harry, loved your visitings there.

“I know, I know, I know for sure-

Everybody wanna steal my girl, everybody wanna take her heart away, couple billion in the whole wide world, find another one ‘cause she belongs to me.

And it was true. Ever since your fifth year, many people had asked you out for a date or a hogsmeade trip together or to hang out. You were beautiful, kind, smart and what not. You always felt a little bad for rejecting them. James never liked this. He had liked you since you third year and couldn’t help but get jealous whenever someone asked you out. ‘There were other girls in Hogwarts too. Why didn’t they ask them?’ he would always say to Fred.

Everybody wanna steal my girl, everybody wanna take her heart away, couple billion in the whole wide world, find another one ‘cause she belongs to me!”

You couldn’t stop your tears coming down when he sang the ‘na na’ part of the song. He slung his guitar onto his back and said giving you his hand, “so Y/N Malfoy, will you belong to me?”

You grinned thinking he learned this whole song just for you. You took his hand climbed on the table. You interlocked his fingers with yours and kissed him. His face became red as he kissed you back passionately.

“Yes, I belong to you,” you smiled and whispered after you pulled away.

His face was now overwhelmed with joy. “Did you hear that?! She belongs to me!” he yelled excitedly.

“About time,” Albus said to Scorpius.

“Really. They both were totally whipped for each other since from first year and seriously it was getting annoyed seeing my sister swooning for him. My father will hear about this,” Scorpius replied.

“James Sirius Potter and Y/N Narcissa Malfoy, get down before I send owls at your houses,” Mcgonagall scolded but she too had a small smile on her face. And you both had to jump down because you didn’t want to receive howlers from your mothers.

“My parents are gonna love you,” James said.

“They already love me,” you said grinning.

“And how do you know?” he asked amused.

“Because I am the chosen one’s son’s ex-best friend and now girlfriend,” you teased and both of you laughed as you made your way to Gryffindor common room.

[kashimos-hajime]

pretty face on a pretty neck | b.b.

summary: they aren’t fucking dating. not fucking friends, either. no, bucky just fucks romanoff’s best friend until she’s fucking stupid, begging for it, and leaves in the morning because that’s how the universe fucking works. and sometimes, he wishes it didn’t work that way.

WARNINGS: a tiny bit of smut (18+), fingering, choking, swearing, drinking, brief mentions of cheating, bucky’s just really fucking jealous, mentions of a shitty relationship and self-doubt from it, the dark knight spoilers, fluffy end!! pairing: modern!bucky barnes x fem!reader, brief steve rogers x fem!reader lmaoo  word count: 5.5k

a/n: this is a cute lil piece written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​​​​​​! my prompt was “you called me, remember?” inspired by kiwi by harry styles. 

For a moment, Bucky wonders how the fuck he got into this situation.

Then again, he’s not complaining.

The view is fucking stellar.

You weave through the crowd, glistening like some glazed dessert that he can’t wait to get his mouth on. Your lips are shining with a swipe of that sweet lipgloss he loves to suck off and you’re wearing that black dress.

The black dress. Shorter than short, showing every inch of skin yet not enough.

You toss your head back, exposing that neck that he loves to bite to Steve who grins, glad his joke landed. Stifling a scowl, Bucky grabs his scotch and throws it back, desperate not to grab you and throw you into a stall just to mark you up as his.

You had made him promise, after all. No socialization outside their little nightcap sessions that often lead to… well, Bucky’s game for anything really.

A cigarette is pinched between your lips and Steve helps you light it with a flick of his lighter, the burning embers glowing in the dark, seedy bar. Leaning on the bar counter, you talk to Sam wiping down his station and he nods, eyes dragging over your face and Bucky cannot tear his gaze away as Sam pours you three shots of vodka. You blow out a lungful of smoke, cigarette pinched between two fingers before glancing at Steve and making some sort of bet, based on the way your lips curl.

They go down like water, dripping down your chin and you laugh when Steve wipes it off your collarbones before he grabs your chin and smashes his lips against yours. You immediately reciprocate, mouth opening as he bends you over the bar, his hair golden and his hand trailing up your thigh.

“Fucker,” Bucky mutters, finally managing to rip his gaze away. A heat blazes through his stomach.

Stupid fucking party for damn Romanoff’s birthday. Sometimes he hates being some of the oldest friends that redhead knows. It makes him feel creepy, wading through a sea of college students that are only one or two years younger than him. Steve himself is finishing his last year, so he’s sure he doesn’t share Bucky’s plight of feeling old.

He wishes he could just approach you and ask to leave, pin you against the wall of his apartment, take you like he knows Steve’s going to later, but he can’t.

You aren’t fucking dating. Not fucking friends, either.

No, Bucky just fucks Romanoff’s best friend until she’s fucking stupid, begging for it, and leaves in the morning because that’s how the universe fucking works.

And sometimes, he wishes it didn’t work that way.

“Not enjoying yourself, James?” Birthday Girl Romanoff asks, appearing at his shoulder and he turns to her, shifting in his seat.

“Steve’s too busy chatting up your friend for me to do anything,” he replies, keeping his tone light and Romanoff glances at where Steve’s made his way to kissing up your neck, your fingers carded through his hair.

“Give him a break,” Romanoff says. “They both need to get laid.”

“You don’t think she’s getting laid?” Bucky asks incredulously. “Every fucking guy I’ve met has said they wanted to get with her at least once.”

“Sounding a bit jealous over someone you claim to hate, James,” the redhead teases, sipping on her mojito with raised eyebrows.

“I’m just saying. All the boys were saying they were into it.”

“And you?”

“She’s… a brat.”

“Seems to me that you’re into that,” she hums, leaning on his shoulder. “Honestly, it would’ve been better if you two met before her and her stupid boyfriend did. Ever since she moved in with Rumlow…” The woman trails off and Bucky absently fills in the blanks, she’s faked every single orgasm she’s had with him. “I don’t know. He’s a fucking prick. Doesn’t treat her like she deserves.”

“Does he—“

“No. Just… never a priority, is she? Why else is she here alone?” Natasha pauses, as if debating how much to tell him, then adds, “Then he gets all pissy about where she’s been. On his beck and call, isn’t she?”

“Asshole,” Bucky replies distantly. Steve has his hand basically up your dress and he watches as your legs pull him closer, your lips running along the shell of his ear. “You’re endorsing your best friend cheating on her boyfriend, you know, when we could just be beating him up”

“Hey. She said she was going to break up with him. I can’t make those choices up for her and I’m not about to land any of my friends in jail trying to be my ride or dies.” Romanoff shrugs, glancing at her friend. “Besides, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go, does she? It’s not like she can move into my dorm or move back into her parents across the country.” Bucky watches as you hook your legs around Steve’s waist and he hoists you into his arms, disappearing into the crowd.

By the direction, Bucky can guess the destination and some distant part of his head whispers, She could move in with me.

“Might want to avoid the bathrooms for a while,” he comments and Romanoff snorts, the ice crackling by her straw as she stirs her drained glass.

“I’m going to go get laid, too,” she replies frankly. “Don’t stay brooding in the corner, Barnesy-bear. Your face is one worthy of being sat on.”

“Thank you.”

With that, the redhead slips into the crowd and Bucky gets up, plucking his jacket and leaving the bar. His pants are tight with the thought of your mouth and the sound of your gasping breaths echoing in his ear. The feeling of your fingers scratching down his back makes him roll his shoulders back as he flags a cab.

So what if you’re fucking Steve?

It’s not like he’s exclusive with you.

He can’t fault his best friend for having excellent fucking taste.

As he enters the cab and tells the driver his address, he wonders how the fuck someone like Rumlow snagged the title as your boyfriend when there are so many other options.

Steve being one, but he’s still living on-campus.

Bucky doesn’t want to say it, but maybe he, with his own apartment and steady job and intimate knowledge of your desires and interests and needs, is the other.

.

It’s two weeks later when he finally sees you again, at Romanoff’s birthday function at the beach. Something with closer friends, in broad daylight at a beach house Romanoff’s parents own. She and Sam are already there by the time Bucky gets there, unpacking in rooms for a weekend stay.

“Take any room you like,” Romanoff calls from upstairs and Bucky does so, choosing one of the few rooms on the main floor just as another figure walks in.

“I’m here, Nat!” Your voice echoes against wooden walls as Bucky pokes his head out of his room to see you there. He doesn’t know whether he should feel guilty or not that he’s glad Steve hasn’t sated your hunger when you show up alone, shorts riding up your thighs and a t-shirt that is so sheer it does nothing to conceal the bikini top you wear beneath it. “I’m taking my usual room.”

“Fine with me!”

With that, you walk down the hall, eyes meandering over the living room and kitchen. Bucky’s throat closes up when you walk past the stairs to stop at his room and you smirk all saccharine at him.

“Hey, Barnes.”

He scans your face for a moment. “You came. Thought you’d still be sucking Steve’s face off like you were back at the bar. Or… sucking his dick. Whatever floats your boat.”

“Well, that was a one-off thing. Heat of the moment,” you dismiss, leaning against his door frame and he hates the way you look against the wood. Makes something in him stir, makes the blood run hot and his mind focus on one image in particular.

“What’d your boyfriend say when he saw your neck fucking marked up?” he asks, uncaring of the thin ice he stands upon. You frown, arms crossing.

“I was careful,” you reply tightly, “and I didn’t let him leave any marks.”

Bucky can’t help the small flash of satisfaction at hearing that. “You’re not careful with me. I like seeing your neck tatted up with it,” he comments, his hand twitching to wrap around your throat as he lifts his finger to trace the soft, pulsing vein along your neck. You tilt your chin up, eyes narrowing with amusement.

“I’m not yours, Barnes.”

“What you say tells me differently, princess.” Dropping his hand to grab your wrist, he pulls you into his room and slams the door shut, pinning you against it with a harsh push. You exhale sharply, the breath pushing out of your lungs as your bags drop with a disant thump. His senses zero in on everything about you, the light scent of the sunblock smeared into your skin, the cotton twisting beneath his fist as his other hand finds your neck on its own accord. “You’ve been distant lately, kitten.”

He can feel your racing pulse against his palm as you smirk, hands wrapping around his waist and pulling him flush against you. Every inch of his skin is pressed against yours as you hike a leg up onto his hip. His hand at your waist immediately goes to cup it and you loop your arms around his neck innocently.

“I’ve had a lot of work to do. Brock and I…” You let out a soft hum as if to ponder but he knows it’s just to piss him off, “spent some time alone. Romantic trip out of town. Then, I had other things to do.”

“Did you?” It’s not a question Bucky wants answered as you nod demurely, lips twisted into a smirk. He wants nothing more than to yank your shorts down, spin you around, and have you screaming his name as he takes you again and again. He’s been blue balled for two weeks and you haven’t answered any of his calls.

Now, he knows why.

“So, that stupid boyfriend of yours was with you, huh?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he leans in close. He can taste the vodka in your mouth still, the vodka he never got to taste two weeks before in a bar, along with something fruity. Your gum, maybe, or an orange that you sucked clean off its peel. “And then what? Did you hop off after you faked your way through a few nights with him and head for Steve’s? Hm?”

“Temper, temper, James,” you whisper, lips barely brushing his. His entire body is alight, every nerve shooting sensations through his limbs as your fingers curl against the nap of his neck. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Jealous, yeah.” His hand on your thigh trails up and inward, sneaking past the hem of your shorts as you lower your leg to hook on his calf, pulling him infinitely closer. His dick is pressing against his swim shorts, completely obvious and painfully hard against your navel as he shifts his hips just enough to let his hand sneak further up your shorts. “Why would I be jealous?”

His fingers find the silky slip of your bikini bottom and brush over the junction of your hip, smirking at the tremble he can feel course through your body.

“You wanted me that night at the bar,” you whisper as he slowly trails deeper inward. “Tell me that isn’t true.”

“Who didn’t, hm?” He smirks when you turn your face away, biting your lip at his fingers dancing around a spot already slickening with anticipation. “C’mon, princess. You telling me you didn’t wear that black dress for me? Look at me.”

You refuse and he rubs his thumb into the side of your neck, dipping his head to bite at your collarbones.

“Look at me, princess,” he whispers, lifting his head to see your defiant gaze meeting his. “Tell me the truth about the black dress.”

“I didn’t wear it for you,” you bite back softly, “to fuck me in.” His hand tightens, just barely around your neck and your eyes flutter shut. Oh, how badly he wants to ravage your lips, lock you in this room and just take you in every way you want…

“Trying to make me jealous, kitten?” he rasps as your hips roll against his dick and you bite your lip, chin tilting up as your nails dig into his skin. Because it worked.

“So what if I was?”

“Then, you’re going to have to pay for it.” He spins you around and moves to shove his shorts just past his hips. You let out a sharp exhale at the pressure of his hand against the back of his neck, your hands pressed flat against the door. “You got anything to say for yourself, princess?”

His swim shorts fall and he tugs your shorts down just past your ass, tracing the smooth curve of it with an arrogant curve to his lip. His lips find your neck, nipping lightly before raising to your ear.

“I asked you a question.” His hand lands on your ass, kneading it with warm, familiar fingers and his words are a warning. In the silence, he can almost hear you rolling your eyes, struggling not to moan when he feathers smooth skin, tempts you with tiny brushes between the legs.

“You gonna keep talking, Barnes, or you gonna prove a point?”

His fingers hook on your bikini bottom, pulling the elastic away with an amused grin before letting it snap back against your skin.

“I don’t know. Are you gonna continue being a fucking brat?” He squeezes your neck, fingers digging into the soft flesh and you almost seem to melt against the door before he drags those bikini bottoms down too. Rolling his hips flush against your ass, he smirks when you shudder and try to thrust him in with a messy jerk back. “Aw, did you miss this?”

“Wouldn’t miss a thing about you,” you reply but it comes out strangled as his other hand wraps around your hip, travels down your navel. It wraps around your waist, keeps you tight against him as you smother his wrist between the door and your hips. When his fingers find your bud, you let out a soft sigh at the pressure he begins to rub into you and he smirks, biting the shell of your ear.

“C’mon, princess. You can admit it if you like,” he murmurs. Your fingers dig into the wood as you try to push yourself—in what direction, away from his hand, towards it, Bucky doesn’t know. He reaches farther down, fingers tracing through slick heat and he chuckles huskily against your skin, biting lightly into the junction of your neck and shoulder. “‘S that all for me?”

“Shut up,” you growl. Your eyes flash to him and he pushes you flush against the door, your head falling back against his shoulder as cock nestles itself between your cheeks. So close, not quite there. His hand on your neck travels forward, crooking inward and his fingers wrap around a silky neck from the front. He can feel every beat of your heart, the raspy whistle of your breathing. Lips falling to your exposed neck, Bucky sucks marks he knows are going to last if he doesn’t stop himself soon but two weeks has been two weeks too long— “Barnes.”

“Relax… it’s been a while since you’ve had a proper fuck.”

“Cocky bastard.”

“Needy brat.”

Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers work at a languid pace inside you. He knows every nook and cranny, every angle that brings you euphoria and he grinds his palm against your clit with every thrust, arrogant smile growing when you melt back onto his shoulder, lips slightly parted.

“Don’t have time for foreplay,” you finally manage to croak and you turn to look at him, eyes surprisingly clear for having his fingers in your soaking heat and working you up a steady incline.

“It’s the fucking beach, kitten. They won’t be in a rush to get anywhere.” Your lips are tantalizing up close and he chuckles, fingers pressing gently into your pulse. “How quiet can you be?”

“Try me,” you breathe, chest heavy and eyes filling with assured focus, “bitch.”

Challenge accepted.

Nudging your legs ever so lightly apart, he is about to push in. He can feel your heart beating through your back, a quick, racing drum and your breasts heave with every anticipating breath.

“James! Y/N! Wanna meet Steve at the beach?”

Natasha’s voice breaks the humid tension like a hot knife through butter, and your eyes fly open as if you’ve risen from a trance and he growls, not quite moving yet.

To say nothing raises suspicion.

He hates it here.

“Sure!” Bucky yells back right into your ear, much to your displeasure and he shrugs, trying to repress the smirk as his hand drops and playfully squeezes your breast. You return with a subtle nip to his jaw and he steps back. Your shoulders drop and you turn around, leaning against the door with a soft, condescending smile. Your eyes are blown with a mistiness and your thighs press together as he sucks his fingers clean. Your gaze narrows, he smirks with glee.

“What was that about not being in a rush to get anywhere?” you ask, dismissively sweeping your gaze up and down his body before grabbing your pants and pulling them up. His eyes follow the slow trail of the fabric and he sighs softly between parted lips. “Play one of those audios I know you’ve got on your phone. Can’t ever get enough of me, can you, soldier boy?”

“Don’t put yourself on a pedestal, princess.”

“I’m not.” You pick up your bags and open the door, letting cool sea wind sweep into the room that was cloudy with heat and lust. He can’t help the smile that digs into his cheeks despite how disappointed he is as you shrug innocently. You play the part so well. “It’s just the facts.”

Not for the first time, Bucky is left with the thought that Rumlow doesn’t deserve a second of your time.

.

It’s near the end of the month, the very last day. The thirty-first of May.

You broke up with your stupid boyfriend three days ago. He knows because he looked at your Instagram only to find all the pictures with him gone.

But he wasn’t stalking. He was just…

Curious.

Also, Natasha FaceTimed him and Steve, ranting all about it. So, he came upon this naturally.

Not stalking at all.

“Hey.” Bucky’s lying flat on his bed, naked and the sheets are too warm as he hears you pick up with a disgruntled sigh. “You awake?”

“Am now.” You don’t sound too heartbroken but your voice is a bit thicker than he remembers as you sniff. “What do you want?”

“Are you sick?”

“No, I was crying.”

He arches an eyebrow at your blunt response but doesn’t continue that line of interrogation. “Where are you staying?”

“Why does it matter to you? What do you want?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come over, princess,” he replied dryly. “But if you’re on the streets, I can come pick you up.”

“I’m not on the streets,” you reply sharply in a way that makes Bucky doubt your words. “But fine. I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Princess,” he begins but you cut him off.

“I just needa pack some things. See you in twenty.”

You hang up without another word. He lets his cellphone drop with a heavy sigh, sitting up and pulling on some boxers and some ratty old university hoodie.

It’s another fifteen minutes before there’s a knock on the door and he moves from the kitchen to the door, abandoning the orange juice he poured to pass the time. Swinging open the door to reveal that pretty face, he smirks to hide the concerned expression threatening to overtake his face. You look like hell, heavy eye bags and a wariness that he’s not used to seeing on your bold face. You’ve got luggage by your legs and a backpack is strapped to you as you regard him.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

“You called me, remember?” you reply dryly. He steps aside, inviting you in. Walking in, toeing off your sneakers, and shedding your jacket, you let your backpack drop as Bucky pulls your luggage in. “Woke me up and everything.”

“Yeah, I bet I woke you up from your beauty sleep,” he snorts and you roll your eyes as his eyes trail over the dull skin of your shoulders, the limpness of your hair. He closes the door behind him, an unfamiliar tug pulling at his stomach. “Your boyfriend didn’t even give you time to find a new place?”

“No. And he’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

“Just a guy you used to fuck on occassion who couldn’t even make you come,” he says sagely and you sigh, rolling your eyes again.

“Are you describing yourself?” The words make blue eyes flash to meet yours and you smirk at the dangerous warning glimmering in his irises. Cocking your head, you shrug and lean against his dining table. “So, what do you want?”

“Why do I ever call you here if it isn’t for fucking you, huh, princess?” he muses, but even he can’t find the reason anymore. Whatever libido he was housing had melted in the time between you hanging up and you arriving at his apartment. As you stand before him, his blue eyes flicker from your exhausted face to the way your body seems strung out and on high alert. He sighs, too. “I didn’t want you in some seedy motel where the locks don’t work and the concierge is probably on the registered sex offender’s list. That sound good enough for you?”

You smile, the only thing familiar about you, and it sends a wave of relief through him. “Being nice isn’t your colour, Barnes.”

“Go take a shower,” he retorts, plucking your bag from the floor by your feet and he notices you don’t protest when he grabs your jacket and throws it in the hamper. “Then, we’ll talk.”

“Fine.” You’re unnaturally obedient as you head silently for the bathroom and he brings your luggage to the living room, setting it by the couch and laying it flat. Unzipping it quickly, he grabs the clean clothes he can find right off the bat and goes into his room to put them on his bed so you can grab them as soon as you come out. You’re standing in his bathroom, shedding your tank top and he grabs some clean towels.

It’s a strangely intimate silence as he offers you the towels and you dip your head in thanks. He can see the beginnings of a bruise on your bicep and he reaches tenderly for it, fingers barely brushing your skin.

“Did he—” The anger comes unbridled, hot and heavy and dark, in his voice and you don’t even jerk out of his touch. You’re completely relaxed in his presence as you look at your reflection in the mirror, so unlike a few minutes before when you’d been a ball of tension and you shake your head. His thumb gently digs into your skin and he can feel the pulsing heat of it. It’s fresh. Not even a day old, probably.

“No. I was walking and it was dark. Guy was coming out of a cab and didn’t see me standing there. Got whacked by the door,” you assure, pulling your arm out of his loose hold. Unbuttoning your pants, you continue to undress as he stands there, eyebrows knitting together. The air is wrought with an energy he’s unfamiliar with and he withdraws but your hand reaches for his wrist. Wide eyes dart to your face and he’s shocked by the surprisingly soft smile pulling at your lips. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, uh, sure. Hungry?”

You let go of his wrist and his skin is tingling. He rubs at it absently as you nod, your strange smile ever present. “Starving.”

“I’ll whip you something to eat.”

As he’s stirring Kraft Dinner around in a bowl, he listens to the shower run and thinks.

Or doesn’t think.

Time seems to pass in such a strange way. He’s cooking for you and you’re in his shower and nothing about this is normal or something he’s used to, but it’s not something he hates.

The shower turns off just as he’s sliding the mac into a bowl and he pours you a glass of water before finishing his own abandoned cup of orange juice.

Your footfalls are light and you smell like his shampoo as you sit down at his kitchen island, clad in the clothes he laid out for you.

“It’s just some Kraft I had lying around,” he says uneasily, pushing the bowl towards you but you take it anyway with a shrug and a easygoing smile. You look more awake after the shower and colour has worked its way back into your lips. There’s new life in your eyes as you eat and Bucky, satisfied, heads for the couch just to watch whatever’s on until you’re done.

Everything seems so strange, mundane, almost… domestic as you eat, scroll your phone, and he watches The Dark Knight just because it’s on. He watches the movie blindly, his mind still going a mile a minute and his body unintentionally becoming attune to yours in a way he only knows with when he’s fucking you.

But now, he knows how you move, knows when you’re putting your bowl in the sink and knows when you’re walking towards him by the way his heart starts beating just a millisecond quicker, the gentle give of his couch as you sit down beside him. Your eyes burn into his cheek and he glances at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Come here,” he allows, lifting his arm from the pillow and you scoot closer, pulling the pillow into your lap and hugging it tight. He rests his arm along the back of the couch. “You didn’t die of food poisoning. Pity.”

“You’d have to be truly something to fuck up Kraft Dinner, Barnes,” you reply dryly, smirking at him and he suppresses a snort as you tuck your knees up. “It was good. Although, I hope you’re not living off of that stuff.”

“I do take out every once in a while,” he says with a shrug and you roll your eyes.

“I’m a college student and I can cook better than you.”

“You’re one year younger than me. We’re not so different.”

“Whatever you say.”

Bucky can’t help the amused smile edging its way onto his face as you fall into silence, watching the movie, too. One thing Bucky’s always liked about you, even if he didn’t like anything else, is that you share a lot of the same interests as him. They had whole rants on how terrible some movies were, or the disappointment that was some TV finales. It always made pillow talk a fun time, if they ever made it to that stage. 

It was more often than not either of them would wake up before the other and just head out without a single word.

Bucky finds he likes your companionable silence more than he thought he would. Maybe he should’ve indulged pillowtalk a bit more. By the small, sated smile on your lips, he wonders if you’re thinking the same thing.

“You know,” you say after a while, “when I said at the beach house that you wanted me…” Your voice rouses Bucky from his trance of staring at the TV. The credits are rolling and he hadn’t even realized. So lost in his thoughts he was near the end, thinking about Rachel’s letter to Bruce and hyper aware of your every shift in your seat beside him, the movie seemed to pass by in a blink.

Something about the long lost melancholy of lost chances…

Bucky’s never been fucking sentimental, but even he can see the chance that Bruce Wayne really… really missed out on, and the blue-eyed man doesn’t want to be in that position ever. To do the right thing only to find out it’s too late. Because she died in the end, didn’t she? She died and he was alone even though he tried…

“What?”

“At the beach house,” you repeat. “When I basically told you that you wanted me…” you say with a roll of your eyes, “it was just teasing, foreplay.” Then, more seriously: “But I guess I was being like Two-Face. Double entendres, innuendos, all that.”

“You’re going to become a vengeful, homicidal DA?” he quips wryly and you huff in faux irritation, poking him lightly in the chest.

“No. God, use that brain inside that pretty little head of yours for once.”

“Aw, you called me pretty.”

“Barnes.”

“Fine. Continue.”

“Well, what I was saying… When I said you wanted me… God, this is stupid. Feel free to just punch me in the face after, but…”

“But?” Eyebrows knitting together, he looks at you and you pull the blanket up to your face, embarrassment telltale in the way you avert your eyes. He gently pushes the blanket down, muting the TV and waiting patiently. You look more alive that you did the first minute you walked into your apartment and you look like you want to bury yourself in the blankets but he’s not going anywhere and you stare at him, lips pressed into a flustered line. “I’m not going to punch you in the face. You can just tell me.”

“I guess… I just... I wanted to believe that you wanted me,” you state, shaking your head, “for me. Like some affirmation that there’s a possibility you could ever want me like that, and… I’m being dumb. I swear I’m not usually like this, all sentimental and shit, but it’s just I feel like shit and you don’t care about any of that and Brock… I broke up with him because I know he doesn’t love me even if he says he does and that I deserve better but I just… it gets to me, you know? It fucking gets to me when I’m all alone and now I am alone and if he didn’t put me first... maybe it’s because I’m not wanted.”

“Hey, princess,” he murmurs, reaching for your hands and you surrender to him easily as he cranes his head to keep your eye contact despite you ducking your head. “I don’t judge you for any of that shit and that’s wrong. He’s a fucking prick, and people want you here. Romanoff, Steve, Sam…” Me.

“I know. I know and I just… I’m scared because I have nowhere to go. And, you’re always honest with me, and just slap me in the face because… I can’t believe I’m asking you this what if… what if everyone’s gonna treat me like Brock did? What if no one will ever really want me?

There’s a beat.

Then, two.

He’s squeezing your hands so hard he’s surprised you haven’t drawn away but then he realizes your fingers are clutching onto him even tighter, his bones wincing as you crush his digits.

“It’s stupid. I’m stupid—”

“No, you’re not.” Bucky shakes his head and you—fourth year college student and someone he shouldn’t be attached to because you two are so different but he is because you two are so alike—are something else. No one has gotten under his skin like you have.

You’re not fucking stupid. Because I do want you. In a way. In more than one way. And you are irritating and burn so fucking bright and you’re fucking bold, but—

I want you.

He doesn’t say any of that.

And it’s complicated, but that’s how the universe fucking works.

“You’re free to stay here for however long you need to,” he tells you quietly, seriously. “I don’t care how long it is, and there are no catches. Just… just don’t give that fucker another chance, yeah? ‘Cause there’s always gonna be someone who wants you, kitten. Someone who’ll treat you right.”

You smile faintly, knees tucked to your chest and hair still a bit damp from your shower. You’re warm, soft, with no cigarette smoke clouding your silhouette and no glossy sheen of alcohol. You look like you in a way Bucky’s never known before.

He thinks this beats you in any kind of black dress.

“Okay,” you accept and you lean over first to kiss him. It’s a soft peck to the corner of his mouth, an innocent, flitting thing, but Bucky doesn’t mind. He eases against the couch and you lean against his chest, cuddling close against him. His arm falls around your shoulders, holding you tight to him and you melt against him just like he does around you.

For a moment, Bucky wonders how the fuck he got into this situation.

Then again, he’s not complaining.

The view is fucking stellar.

[scxrlettwxtches]

a crown of thorns | hwang hyunjin

genre: royal au, fluff/angst, fem!reader

warnings: pregnancy, slight violence

description: a few years have passed since your tumultuous beginnings with the enemy king, hwang hyunjin, and to everyone’s astonishment, your marriage flourished with an abundance of love. however, this was not yet a happy ever after, and danger still lurks within every corner of your peaceful kingdom.

word count: 14.0k+

a/n: ack the more i read this, the worse it seems to get haha. but guys!! this is my last fic on this blog!! thank you again for all the love you’ve shown me and my writing. <3 wishing everyone all the best!! 

As he sat on his throne, absently chatting away with foreign envoys, Hwang Hyunjin considered himself rather lucky for a multitude of reasons.

All the princes and the lords sitting around the table, enjoying the tea and pastries, had everything one could want in the world. Endless fountains of wealth, resources, luxury. Whatever they desired, they only needed to snap their fingers, and someone would provide. It was the type of life many in his kingdom could only dream about in their wildest fantasies.

But, underneath the splendor, Hyunjin could see it as bright as day. Beneath the material luxury was discontentment, unease, unhappiness. Many of them were married to people that they did not love, were tied to their own wealth as it was the only sense of stability in their lives. And above all, Hyunjin could sense their loneliness, the invisible--yet deadly--disease that latched onto the heart and knawed at it until it was nothing but a shriveled remain. It was a poison that had no identifiable cure, and its affects only magnified as time went on.

Hyunjin could see it all because, once upon a time, he was just like them. Sitting on the throne, he was merely staring at reflections of his past self, a shell of a boy that was forced into a position of power too soon with too few people he could trust. He saw himself in the young lord that was visiting from across the sea, his eyes alight with ambition and a thirst to prove himself. He saw himself in the crown prince of the neighboring kingdom, the mistrust laced in every sip he took of his tea. He was like that once: scared, angry, betrayed, and alone.

But with a strange twist of fate, his life changed for the better. He found people he could trust. He met the love of his life. Unbelievably, he even married her, slowly earning her respect and eventually, her heart. And now, Hwang Hyunjin was no longer the boy with a crown too heavy and a life too lonely. He had people he cared about deeply, he had people he wanted to protect with his whole being. Especially…

“Papa! Papa!”

Hyunjin’s ears perked up as the large, ornate wooden doors of the hall creaked open ever so slightly, and a pitter patter of frantic footsteps bounded into the throne room. Almost immediately, he felt a smile grace his face, all the tension draining out of his posture as he gazed at the little girl, his darling daughter. 

Even the most stone-hearted envoys and esteemed guests could not hide their smiles as the girl ran excitedly towards her father, “Papa!” She giggled again, clumsily climbing up the steps to the throne.

Hyunjin’s heart fluttered with pride as he watched his daughter clamber up the marble steps, and for a split second, the image of her sitting on the throne as the next queen flashed across his mind. One baby step at a time, he reminded himself, and he stood up, easily picking up the girl as she gripped onto his sleeves.

“Naeun,” he brushed the baby hairs out of her face and smiled at her rosy cheeks. Time and time again, he was reminded of how much his daughter had begun to resemble the both of you. She had his doe eyes, but her smile, that was all you. 

The meeting became completely irrelevant to Hyunjin as he lavished all of his attention on her, “What are you doing here?”

Naeun, who was breathing heavily from all the running she had done, huffed and pouted rather sternly, “Mama said that if you stay in the office all night again, mama will dwag you back to the bedwoom.” 

Hyunjin fought the urge to laugh, utterly charmed by Naeun’s petulant words. How hard had she prepared to relay such a fiery message? He climbed up the remaining steps with the girl in his arms and sat back down comfortably on the throne, gently placing her on his lap.

“Papa is very sorry,” he said solemnly, bringing her little hand to his lips so he could kiss the back of it, making her giggle and squirm, “Did your mama send you here to tell me that?”

“Nope! But mama miss you!” Naeun replied brightly, and by this point, none of the guests were able to hide their endeared smiles and chuckles. Hyunjin felt a strange rush of both protectiveness and pride as he observed how easily Naeun had stolen the spotlight in the room with her joy and her innocence. It must be a father instinct that he was beginning to develop.

“Ah, mama misses me?” Hyunjin didn’t even know his heart was capable of containing such unbridled happiness and love as he smiled at his daughter. Naeun nodded firmly, and Hyunjin rubbed her back as he smoothed down her pretty princess dress, making sure she was comfortable before addressing the guests.

“My apologies for the interruption,” he said with perfect politeness, ever the ideal host. As expected, not many people were even the slightest bit annoyed by the disturbance, and they all waved off his apology, continuing the casual conversations about trade, finances, and commerce.

When it was all over, and Hyunjin was finally able to adjourn with all meetings and any other activities he’d scheduled to entertain his foreign guests, he eagerly walked down the hallways to the royal chambers, with Naeun safely nestled in his arms.

“Papa?”

“Yes, my little one?” He replied, letting her rest her chin on his shoulder.

“What’s fin..finan…” Naeun’s face scrunched up with effort as she tried to put the word back together from her memory. 

Hyunjin smiled fondly; he’d noticed her eagerly listening during the meeting, trying to soak in all the new knowledge that was coming her way. Naeun was good at de-escalating tensions, especially when she did her usual thing of barging into meetings without a care in the world, but Hyunjin also liked to let her stay in meetings because the little toddler seemed genuinely interested. She never seemed like she wanted to be anywhere else, only blinking from person to person with her large doe eyes. 

“Finance?” He supplied helpfully, and Naeun nodded into his shoulder, “It’s grown up stuff.”

“I like grown up stuff,” Naeun said with all the seriousness that a three year old could muster.

Hyunjin laughed, “I know you do, petal,” he hummed, thinking of a good way to explain the concept, “You know when you like to play house with your dolls and Uncle Changbin?”

Naeun immediately brightened at that. She loved playing house with Uncle Changbin! He was always a bit grumpy, a bit reluctant, but they always had a great tea party whenever her mama and papa were busy. 

“Mhm!”

“And you always like to trade certain dolls for the dolls that Changbin brings?” Hyunjin asked. Once again, he felt enormous gratitude to his personal commander, Seo Changbin, for going beyond the responsibilities of duty to take care of Naeun. As much as you and Hyunjin tried however you could to make time for her, with royal duties, parties, meetings, and work, it was just impossible to spend large amounts of time with your lovely daughter.

“Mhm! Uncle Changbin brings pwetty dolls!” Naeun nodded.

Hyunjin felt the smile grow on his face as he held her in his arms. He’d been smiling more often ever since Naeun was born, “Exactly. And you always have to give a few of your old ones to get the new, right? Or choose a few toys to give to Uncle Changbin so he can donate them to the capitol orphanages?”

Naeun only nodded curiously. 

“That, in a way, is finance. Of course, it’s a little more boring than trading dolls, though,” Hyunjin tickled her tummy with his finger, distracting her as she wiggled and squealed. Truth be told, Hyunjin didn’t want Naeun to grow up so quickly, even if that was all she wanted to do. Hyunjin didn’t remember anything from his childhood except textbooks, lectures, and a crushing pressure from his father and mother to live up to their expectations. He would never wish that upon his daughter.

After one more turn around the corner, they finally arrived at the Royal Chambers, with Changbin and Felix standing guard on both sides of the entrance. 

“Hi, Uncle Changbin! Hi, Uncle Lixie!” Despite their attempts to teach Naeun royal protocol about how to address the Kingsguard, she had little regard for it, opting to wave from the safety of her father’s arms. 

Changbin’s normally passive, almost grumpy expression melted ever so slightly as he waved back at her.  Despite his constant statements about not wanting to marry and not wanting to start a family, having Naeun made Hyunjin realize that his commander was surprisingly good with children. But if anyone so much as mentioned it, Changbin would deny any evidence of such allegations. Felix, on the other hand, was absolutely besotted with the little girl and made no attempts to hide it.

“Hi, little princess!” He smiled, opening the doors to the most private section of the palace. Hyunjin chuckled, nodding respectfully to both men before walking in. 

“Now, where’s your mama?” Hyunjin murmured. Of course, you were supposed to be in the bedroom, but Hyunjin knew you better than that. 

Naeun giggled, as if she knew you were breaking some sort of rule, and pointed to the study, “There!” 

“Thank you, petal,” Hyunjin booped her nose fondly before walking into the study, creaking the door open slowly as not to startle you. 

Every time his eyes fell to you, he would be swept with a newfound love that was stronger and more powerful than the time before. Even though your back was turned slightly away, and he could only see the slight curve of your lips and the profile of you from the side, Hyunjin knew without a doubt that you were the most beautiful woman in the world. 

You didn’t seem to notice your family walking in, lost in thought as you stared at the window, a piece of parchment in your hand. Hyunjin smiled, knowing how concentrated you can get when it came to state affairs. He put a finger to his lips, indicating to his daughter to be quiet. Naeun covered her mouth with her little hands, nodding as he very gently placed her on the fluffy carpet so she could play with the toys on the ground.

“I believe the doctor’s orders were for you to stay in bed?” Hyunjin murmured softly as he gently draped a woolen shawl over your shoulders, his arms snaking around you from behind. Maybe you did know he was around, since you didn't seem startled by his presence and only smiled as his hands rested on your tummy.

“We have guests in our palace. How can I stay in bed when there’s so much to do?” You replied, leaning into his arms and physically relaxing against him.

“You can just leave the work to me,” Hyunjin pouted a little, feeling guilty that he wasn’t able to handle the entire burden of royal duties. He couldn’t when you were pregnant with Naeun, and he couldn’t now. His hands rubbed your tummy through the silk nightgown as he gently placed his chin on your shoulder, murmuring, “It’s not good for the baby…”

Every time Hyunjin touched your tummy, it made you airy with disbelief and awe at how fortunate you were to have him. When you were a princess, long long ago, you’d never expected yourself to look forward to starting a family. But with Hyunjin, Naeun brought so much joy in your lives that neither of you could help but want another, and your prayers were answered when you became pregnant again around the time Naeun turned three. 

Part of why you were willing was because it awed you every time you saw how much Hyunjin cared. You knew how kings were, always drowning in their work, their duty, which always led them to crave independence, and then occasionally, turning to other women than their lawful wife. You knew that was the norm. Care, much less love, was something that royal women would be lucky to have.

Yet, Hyunjin gave it to you in the spades. Hyunjin cared, Hyunjin loved so much. You saw it every time he looked at you, you saw it every time he would gingerly place the crown upon your head before formal gatherings. You saw it every time he’d keep you close at parties, made sure everyone knew how much he valued you and your opinion. You saw it every time he looked at Naeun, his eyes sparkling with childlike wonder that could only be reflected in your daughter’s own eyes.

And now, with the two of you expecting another child, you saw it in his fretting, his worrying, his constant attempts to keep you safe and healthy, even if he was a little overbearing.

“The doctor never said a little bit of work would harm the baby,” you pointed out, tilting your head back to look into his eyes as you cupped his cheek, “I’m checking myself, I promise.”

“I’m sure you are,” Hyunjin chuckled, and he could no longer stop himself, his lips pressing against  yours in a gentle kiss as he hugged you. You only hummed happily against his lips, enjoying the moment when you were suddenly interrupted.

“Yuckie!” Naeun squeaked out, causing both of you to pull away with a laugh. The princess was sitting on the ground with a soft plushie in her arms as she looked at her parents with disgust.

You burst into giggles, pulling away from Hyunjin to walk over to her, “Yuckie? It’s yuckie that your parents are in love?” You asked teasingly, pinching her cheek. Naeun giggled, trying to run away as Hyunjin suddenly lifted her up from behind, placing her in his lap.

“Kisses are yuckie!” She squealed, making both of you laugh as Hyunjin tickled her tummy.

Hyunjin smiled, chuckling, “Don’t ever let me catch you kissing someone else,” he warned. In all honesty, the idea of his precious daughter falling in love made his blood boil unreasonably. Especially in the royal realm, it was so hard to determine which ones were good and which ones were only hiding behind the mask of benevolence. Just the thought of Naeun falling in love, Naeun getting her heart broken by some good for nothing prince…

“My love,” Hyunjin’s eyes widened as he felt a gentle hand on his arm. You smiled fondly, almost as you already knew exactly what he was thinking, as you always did, “Baby steps, alright? She’s not at that age yet.”

“Baby steps!” Naeun chorused, although oblivious to the conversation at hand. 

Hyunjin felt himself relax, and he engulfed his daughter in a big hug, letting her snuggle into his chest, “Yes, baby steps,” he murmured as he left a kiss in her hair.

.

“What do you mean, they won’t allow it?” You asked angrily, following Hyunjin into his study as he ran a frantic hand through his hair.

Hyunjin sank into his chair, frustration clear in his face as he glanced up at you, “The letter from the council came back. Apparently, there were some strong voices of protest, and eventually they decided to rule against it. They won’t accept Naeun as the heir.”

“That’s ridiculous!” You snapped, feeling steam practically radiating from your ears, “She’s the eldest child, our first born! They've had three years to observe her, and she's performed well in all subjects. She’s practically a genius!" 

You whirled around, tightening the shawl around your frame as you made up your mind to go to the council yourself when Hyunjin rushed over, intercepting you as he gently grabbed your arms, “Y/N, my darling,” you shook your head, not in the mood for his cajoling and gentle attention.

“I’m going to talk to them. They were relenting a couple months ago! I don’t see why--”

“Hey, hey, breathe,” Hyunjin’s voice was suddenly stern, his hands running up and down your back to soothe you, “Calm down, love. Please. Think of the baby.”

You froze, the fight beginning to drain out of you as you tried to take deep breaths. Hyunjin’s hand trailed to your wrist, subtly taking note of your pulse to ensure that you were still alright. 

“I know you’re angry. So am I,” Hyunjin spoke, stepping closer to you and cupping your face in his gentle hands. Your eyes closed at his touch, feeling his warm embrace as his comforting presence, “But we need to deal with this slowly. There are foreign envoys still here, remember? We can’t go barging around the palace like we normally do, not until they leave.”

You huffed, knowing that Hyunjin was right, but still feeling churlishly angry at the news, “So we just wait?”

“We’ll discuss it once more when the council meeting is held again,” Hyunjin suggested, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “I’m sure they’ll cave. Naeun is a perfect contender, the perfect candidate for the next heir. She’s just not what they’re used to.”

“And what are they used to? A son?” You said mockingly, your anger fueled by the ridiculous laws that were still in place. Your kingdom had long since done away with such petty things as male only rules, but it seemed like Hyunjin's kingdom was a little more traditional. 

“Yes, and you know how stubborn they are about it” Hyunjin murmured, palming your stomach, “They’re waiting for this little one.”

“They don’t even know if it’s going to be a boy,” you scoffed, but you could feel yourself relaxing in Hyunjin’s arms. The two of you were so alike and yet so different. Hyunjin was the cooling water to your raging firestorm. And you were the spark that light his ice cold heart alight with love for the first time all those years ago.

Hyunjin hummed at your comment, gently nuzzling his nose against your cheek, “I think it will be. Otherwise, I'd be awfully outnumbered in this family,” he said softly, kissing your cheek as he continued, “But no matter. I still want my precious Naeun to be the crown princess. The council just has stick up their ass.”

“Hyunjin!” You slapped his arm, pulling away to walk towards his study, sitting in the chair as you felt the baby kick once again.

The king only laughed at your glare, immediately rushing to your side as he took your hand, “The baby’s bothering you again, huh?” He asked, his eyes filled with wonder as he stared at your tummy. It was a silent, yet rather apparent question to you, asking whether he had permission to touch. It was almost adorable how childishly excited Hyunjin would get at the thought of his own children.

You gently placed his hand over the fabric of your dress, right over where you’d felt a slight kick just before, “It’s not a bother,” you said gently, “How can it be a bother when it reassures me that our child is safe and healthy?”

Hyunjin’s expression was nothing short of entranced as he felt a push against the palm of his hand, “I love you,” he murmured as he glanced at you, and he leaned forward to press his cheek against your tummy, to which you only smiled fondly and ran a hand through his hair.

“I love them, too,” he spoke to your stomach, as he had no doubt that your unborn child would hear it and know just how much their father cared.

The two of you stayed in that position, basking in the monetary relaxation for a moment longer, your hands gently running through his hair as he rested his head on your lap. It was definitely not a position that either of you would want to be caught in, but Hyunjin found himself rather fond of it, being able to let go of his responsibilities and rely on you for comfort without being anxious. 

You sat for a moment longer before a particular piece of parchment on Hyunjin's desk caught your eye, and you quickly reached for it as your husband continued to rest comfortably on your lap.

“There’s a party tomorrow night?” You asked, scanning the contents over as your free hand gently carded through his hair.

“Mhm, the envoys are leaving the morning after, so it has to be grand,” Hyunjin mumbled lazily in return, his eyes shut from mild exhaustion.

You hummed, putting the parchment down as you said softly, “If it’s the final dinner, shouldn’t I be there? I haven’t seen any of our guests except on the first day. It would be impolite if I missed the last event, too.”

“No,” Hyunjin’s grip tightened imperceptibly as he gently held your waist, lifting his head up to meet your eyes, “They understand your situation. It’s only natural that you haven’t been at all the events,” he said firmly, his hand absently moving towards your stomach.

“It’s still impolite. I should probably go,” you said softly, resting your hand over his, “We don’t want our guests to leave with a bad taste in their mouth.” 

Hyunjin looked uncertain, his eyes pleading with you as he pressed his lips to your knuckles, “If something happens…”

“Nothing will happen, my darling,” you cooed, trying to reassure your love as you sensed his fear. Hyunjin, underneath his cold words and powerful gaze, was just as human as any other man.

“It’s just a party. I won’t even dance, alright?” You continued with a cajoling smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek bone, “I just have to be there, Hyunjin. It’s my duty.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes fluttered shut as he melted against your touch, leaning his cheek into your hand and sighing softly, “I know I can’t change your mind,” he said, “You’re just stubborn like that, and I love it more than you know. But it scares me so much.” 

“It scares you?” You repeated his words, waiting patiently for him to elaborate. 

The king nodded, looking so vulnerable in your arms that you were afraid he’d break, “What if something happens? What if, one day, you overestimate yourself and you lose the baby? Or worse,” Hyunjin kissed your palm, holding your wrist in his hand as he gazed upon you with more pain in his eyes than you’ve ever seen.

“What if I lose you, too?”

Your heart shattered at the fear and the sheer amount of unconditional love that glistened in his eyes whenever they met yours, “Oh, Hyunjin,” you sighed, leaning forward to be closer to him, “It won't come to that.”

But Hyunjin couldn't hear reason at this point, frightening himself as he held your hand, “I can't rule this kingdom without you, without your love. You're the first happiness I've ever had in this lifetime.” 

“Hyunjin, you can and you have,” you argued, reaching to lace your fingers with his, “You were ruling wonderfully before we met.”

“It's not the same, darling, and you know it,” Hyunjin answered, kissing the pulse point of your wrist daintily, “You made me a better person and a better king.”

You couldn't help but smile adoringly, reaching your other hand to run your fingers through his soft hair, “I'm glad. You made my life happier than I ever dreamed it could be.”

Hyunjin sighed, melting into your touch. As always, he felt weightless in your arms, free of burden and responsibility. He didn't have to think of anything but you and him.

But alas, there was still a problem at hand. 

“Do you really want to attend the party?” He asked softly into the fabric of your dress, one of the comfortable ones he'd ordered to be specially made for you when the two of you discovered that you were expecting a second time.

“I do, Hyunjin. I think it's best that I take my place beside you, at least once before they leave. It'll quell any rumors about us and about my supposed ill health,” you explained your reasoning, understanding Hyunjin’s doubts but still feeling strongly about going all the same.

Hyunjin’s eyes opened slowly and he nodded in resignation as he stood up, “Alright. I won't stop you. But, my love, at least let me assign Changbin and Felix to you as your guards for the night.”

“Both of them?” You asked, standing up slowly to maintain your balance. Hyunjin didn't leave your side for a moment, holding your arm in case you fell, “Isn't that a bit much?” 

“It would make me less anxious to know you're well guarded,” Hyunjin pleaded with you, fixing the shawl around your shoulders as the two of you walked out of the study. It was already quite late in the evening, with Naeun having been sent to bed long before. 

Your fingers intertwined naturally, and the two of you headed to your chambers, ready for a long night's rest, “Alright, assign both of them to me,” you relented, “I still think it’s a bit overkill.”

“You’d be walking around the town without a single guard if we went with what you thought was overkill,” Hyunjin chuckled, beginning to shed his uniform.

“Not true,” you protested weakly as you climbed into bed, already in your nightgown.

Hyunjin joined you soon after, engulfing you in his arms and his comforting scent as you let out a sigh of contentment, burrowing in his embrace, “Let’s get some rest, alright?” You said, sleepiness laced in your voice as you hummed softly, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my darling,” Hyunjin murmured his response without a moment of hesitation, as if he’d been waiting all his life to tell you, “so much.”

.

Parties were hectic enough already, even more so when you had a hyperactive toddler to manage on top of the plethora of things that could already go wrong, from the banquet food to the entertainment. 

"Weeee!" Naeun squealed, running around the bedroom like a madman and trying to escape changing into her party dress. 

Before she could slip away, you managed to snag an arm around her waist, lifting her into your arms with a grunt, “Where do you think you're going, little princess?”

Naeun pouted, whining as she wiggled in your grasp, “Want to go play! Want to find papa!” She said with a huff. 

“Papa is busy right now,” you said patiently as you gently plopped her on the bed, trying to help her out of her nightgown while Naeun fussed, obviously not wanting to do as she was told.

“But I want to play with papa!” She protested as she eventually lifted her arms, letting you help her change. 

You sighed as you helped her into the beautiful golden dress, the fabric laced with ruffles and sparkling thread that was fit for any little princess.

“Papa is a little busy, alright?” You spoke gently, trying to make your lecture sound less like a scolding and more of an explanation, “There have been guests in Mama and Papa's home for the last few days, and Papa has been busy taking care of them.”

“B-but...what about me?” Naeun’s lower lip quivered dramatically, and you fought the urge to smile at how utterly adorable she was, “Papa take care of me!”

“You don't think Papa takes care of you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, “Papa spends all his free time with you, Naeunie. Papa takes caring for you very, very seriously.”

Naeun pouted still, her lip jutting out petulantly, but she let her head fall. Even for a three year old, the little girl was awfully perceptive, and knew when she'd lost an argument. And in her heart of hearts, she knew that her parents really did move heaven and earth to make her their top priority.

“Papa no stop taking care of me?” She asked softly as you buttoned the pearl clasp around her collar.

“No, my little one,” you answered with a gentle smile as you fixed her hair, “Papa and Mama will always take care of you. When this is all over, how about we stay a week at the summer residence? Just you, papa and me, and we'll have all the time in the world to play with you.”

Naeun gasped, bouncing on the bed, “Weally? Just us?”

“If you want, you can drag your Uncle Changbin to come with us, too,” you said slyly as you booped her nose, but instead of scrunching her face playfully as she always did, Naeun suddenly looked ashamed, head tilted downward as if she’d done something naughty and then felt guilty about it after the fact.

You were immediately concerned, “Little one?” You prodded, gently trying to tilt her chin up so she’d look at you, “Little one, what’s happened? You can tell Mama anything.”

Naeun hiccuped slightly, and your heart ached as you realized that she was on the verge of tears, “Mama, ‘m sorry,” she mumbled softly, eyes glittering with unshed tears and you quickly sat on the bed, pulling her into your lap.

“Why are you sorry, Naeunie?” You asked, trying not to sound frantic, worried, or anything that might frighten her more.

“Papa said Mama is tired, and that I shouldn’t bother Mama,” Naeun explained, large droplets beginning to roll down her rosy cheeks as she wailed, “But I’ve been bad bad! I make Mama worry!”

You tried to stifle your incredulous laughter as your daughter clung onto you, wailing dramatically as if the world was about to end. So that was what got her so worked up all of a sudden.

“Silly little thing,” you teased, cradling her in your arms as best you could with the bump of your stomach getting in the way. Still, you nuzzled your nose against her cheek, wiping her tears, “It’s mama’s job to worry. You’re a perfectly good girl, Naeunie. Mama and Papa are so lucky to have a precious girl like you.”

Naeun’s shoulders slowly began to shake as she rubbed her eyes, “Like me?” She repeated, a tinge of innocent hope and adoration laced in her voice that always raised your protective instincts, the instinct to shield her from any harm that this world could throw at her.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as you spoke softly, “Just like you. Mama and Papa love you to the moon and back.” 

“And I love Mama and Papa, too! So so muchie!” Naeun parroted back happily, smiling with all the life and brightness that both you and Hyunjin lacked in your own childhoods. Maybe that was why the two of you were so determined to be there for Naeun in every way possible, to make sure that she knew she was so very loved. Because neither of you received that type of acceptance when you were children.

“Good girl,” you said, kissing her forehead once more before smoothing down her dress, “Are you ready to go?”

“Mm!” She nodded, clambering off the bed and standing tall, “Will Papa be at party, too?”

“Your papa is already there,” you chuckled to yourself, taking your daughter’s little hand and heading out of the bedroom.

Outside, both Felix and Changbin were waiting for you, dressed impeccably for the formal occasion. In normal circumstances, it would only be one of them waiting for you while the other guarded Hyunjin, but the king had not allowed any exceptions. Both of the strongest in the Kingsguard must be by your side for the day.

“Sorry for the wait,” you said to both of them as Naeun slipped away from you, skipping over to her two uncles, going especially for one in particular.

“Uncle Changbin, Uncle Changbin!” The man grunted as he caught her in his arms, shifting so she was eye level with him, her bright smile contrasting with his typical frown.

Felix walked with you as Changbin and Naeun entered their own little world, with the young toddler prattling his ears off and the commander listening with surprising attentiveness, “She plays favorites,” Felix complained playfully, clutching a hand to his heart as he stayed by your side.

“She definitely does,” you agreed with a fond smile, keeping an eye on your daughter as you walked down the halls, a hand resting on your tummy as you glanced at the man beside you, “Hyunjin is at the party, right? How is he doing?”

“When will the two of you ever not worry about one another?” Felix laughed, shaking his head, “Hyunjin caught me on the way up to your bedroom, asking about you as well.”

You shrugged, the sound and clamor of crowds and partying beginning to be apparent as you neared the ballroom, “That’s just married life, Felix. Trying to put the other person before yourself,” you glanced at him, the gaze in your eyes shifting into something more mischievous as you opened your mouth, “And maybe, you--”

“Nope! Not happening!” Felix interrupted you cheerfully, “You and His Majesty have just been on my ass about it, and it’s not happening!”

“Oh, but Lixie,” you laughed with him, taking his arm as you walked down the marble steps, “it’s really not all that bad!”

Felix’s gaze was soft as he gently patted your hand. He’d been assigned to the Kingsguard right around the time you were crowned Queen, and there was a sort of camaraderie that formed between the two of you from trying to navigate the ups and downs of palace life. He was a good confidante, and you very much valued his happiness.

“I’m happy here,” he said gently, looking into your eyes with his bright and genuine ones, “I’m happy looking after people that I care about. And for now, I don’t ever want to lose that.” 

You sighed, a smile gracing your face as you shook your head, “Alright. But if you ever change your mind…”

“You and His Majesty would be the first to know,” Felix promised.

The doors swung open, and the crowd quickly stood at attention as you entered the ballroom. Your gaze hardened ever so slightly, and your posture shifted, taking the persona of the respected queen that you were to the eyes of your people. Before you were a mother, or a wife, you were a symbol, an anchor of virtue.

Even Naeun was on her best behavior as she walked down with Changbin, holding his little pinky as she climbed down the steps. She seemed to sense her own importance, and did her very best not to mess up, making you break character for a moment as you smiled.

Your eyes caught sight of your husband standing near the throne, and his eyes twinkled with adoration when your gazes met. He put down his glass of champagne, quickly gliding through the room to receive you.

“God, he’s whipped for you, Your Majesty,” Felix muttered under his breath, “Does the honeymoon period never end--ow!” A discrete finger jab to the side was enough to shut him up.

Hyunjin’s smile was small and hidden, reserved just for your eyes as you made it to the bottom step, “Don’t you look beautiful, my Queen,” he murmured, chastely kissing the back of your hand before pecking your lips.

“Jinnie, not here,” you scolded lightly, letting him take your hand as Naeun rushed over, the crowd cooing with delight. Naeun had only been present in a handful of engagements before this particular party, and the people were still fully immersed in baby fever, entranced by the little girl.

“Papa!” She jumped at him, your husband bending down and catching her easily.

“Oh, my little petal!” His smile was bright as he held her securely, spinning her around, “Ready for dinner?”

“Mhm!” Naeun nodded, but not before placing a big kiss on her father’s cheek, “Miss you!”

You couldn’t help but giggle, watching as the princess’s actions completely melted the crowed. She was definitely a natural. You remembered what you were like as a three year-old, scared, terrified, and always trying to hide behind your mother’s skirt even as she forced you to be independent. 

Naeun didn’t need that push, and you were grateful.

Hyunjin carried Naeun in one arm and escorted you with the other. Your eyes scanned the room, automatically taking note of certain esteemed guests and nobles. In the edge of the room, you noticed a few council members sitting together at a table, refusing to stand at attention for your entrance. 

"Is everything ready?" You asked as you carefully sat down beside Hyunjin, "The dinner, the entertainment-" 

“It’s all done,” Hyunjin smiled, pecking your lips before he placed Naeun in her chair beside his golden one, making sure she was sitting still, “Nothing to worry about.”

You smiled, grateful that your husband was so accommodating and willing to handle so much of the work while you needed your rest. Gesturing to one of the maids, you waved your hand, requesting her to start ushering the guests to their seats as food was about to be served.

As you continued to observe the room, making sure everything was running smoothly, you felt a gentle hand take yours, rubbing it soothingly.

“I haven’t seen you all day. I missed you,” Hyunjin murmured into your ear, making you blush slightly. Even after all these years, his forwardness always flustered you, made you feel like a giddy young princess rather than an experienced queen.

“Hyunjin, come on...not here,” you whispered back, letting his hand glide to your stomach, hidden from everyone’s view by the table in front of you. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Hyunjin protested in a playful tone, gently patting your tummy before pulling away and gaining back some of his kingly aura right as the first dishes were served.

The banquet went without much of a hitch, to your relief. The atmosphere was overall genial and it didn’t seem like any of your guests had malicious intentions. Hyunjin, of course, grew a little ruffled when one of the young boys from the envoy’s family, no older than five, asked to dance with Naeun, but you argued that it was rather endearing to see the children stumble around the dance floor.

“Mama, that was really fun!” Naeun reported happily when she was sitting back in her seat, her hair slightly messy from twirling so much, “Want to do it again!”

“Never, not while I’m still alive,” Hyunjin muttered, rubbing his eyes halfheartedly as the memory of his precious little girl dancing with a boy replayed in his head. 

You laughed at the two of them, reaching over to fix Naeun’s hairdo so she didn’t look like an absolute mess for the rest of the evening, “I think your father wouldn’t be very happy with that,” you said teasingly, kissing her forehead just as the crown prince approached your table with a glass of fine wine in his hand.

“Your Majesties,” he spoke respectfully, exuding the perfect mixture of gracefulness and charisma as he bowed, “If I could do the honor of making a toast for the occasion?”

Of course, the request was posed as a question, merely to play to the ego and the pride of the hosts, but a toast was usually not something you could refuse. Doing so meant bad blood, tensions, potential rifts in foreign relations. Besides, the prince didn’t look malicious; you normally had a good sense of intuition about people, and the man standing before you and Hyunjin didn’t raise any red flags.

Hyunjin didn’t seem to sense anything either, and with a courteous smile, he waved his hand in agreement, “The trade deals we’ve made this time around are definitely a reason for celebration,” he said, “Although, I’ll have to drink on behalf of the Queen as well.”

The prince smiled at that, gesturing to one of his servants as they walked towards the table, bringing two gold encrusted wine glasses towards you, “We would never want to leave Her Majesty out. In consideration of her pregnancy, I’ve brought a specialty drink created from a fruit that is grown only in our country. It is harmless to the body, and said to bring good health and longevity to expecting mothers.”

Gasps and noises of approval filled the air as you tilted your head inquisitively, looking at the wine glass being presented to you. You could feel Hyunjin’s hesitancy, and you studied the prince’s expression carefully, but there really didn’t seem to be anything wrong. There wasn’t any point in making a big fuss over nothing.

Delicately, your fingers wrapped around the glass, picking it up and looking at the orange liquid. Hyunjin watched you carefully before doing the same with his glass, which held red wine like everyone else.

The prince smiled, relief obvious in his posture as he held up his own glass. He obviously had worried that you might reject the gift, thinking that it overstepped boundaries. 

“May our kingdoms stay allies through peace and through strife. To friendship!”

The crowd chorused the sentiment as you merely lifted the glass to your mouth, the liquid just about to touch your lips when you froze.

That scent. You remembered it when your physician had warned you against certain plants that were harmful to your body. As the queen of two nations, you were an obvious target, and there was never any telling with when someone with a cruel heart could slip a poison into your food or water. The scent was almost imperceptible, but you knew it was there.

Someone was trying to poison you, and they chose the most opportune time to do so.

Watching as the prince and your husband both downed their glasses, your brain was working a mile a minute, scrambling for a way out. You could you say outright that there was poison in the glass. That would put both your own staff and your guests in a terrible position. You didn’t have any proof that it was actually the prince who was trying to harm you, and making those accusations would all but tear the alliance apart. 

Your heart must’ve been pounding so loudly that the people around you could hear. You kept your face placidly calm as you decided on your course of action, and very subtly tapped your finger against the wine glass three times, a signal that Changbin had taught you in order to alert the Kingsguard of danger.

Both Changbin and Felix saw your movement, and so did Hyunjin out of the corner of his eye. He turned, his expression slowly morphing into shocked anger, something you had not wanted to happen. Thinking quickly, you pretended to choke, coughing up a storm as you managed to put the glass down.

Felix walked forward and was beside you in an instant, catching on to your actions. He handed you a handkerchief, gently patting your back as Changbin was also by your side, a concerned expression crossing his face as he stood guard.

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” Felix asked, keeping the attention on you as he discreetly slid the glass to the side, letting Changbin collect it and take it away, ensuring that it was as far away from you as possible.

“Y-yes,” you smiled shakily, pressing the handkerchief against your lips, “Just got startled when the baby kicked.”

The people around you, Hyunjin and Felix, instantly saw through your lie, but knew better than to question your words when everyone’s eyes were on you. You finally glanced at your husband, your anxiety spiking when you saw the way he looked at you, eyes filled with uncontrollable fury. 

Someone had really tried to hurt you, really tried to take his happiness right out from his grasp.

You placed a hand on his, and gave it a warning squeeze, “I’m alright, love, there’s no need to fret,” you cooed, putting on a show of calming him down so that his anger might be taken as anxiety instead.

Hyunjin caught onto your cues, and did his best to control the murderous emotions threatening to bubble out of his chest. Luckily enough, there was another distraction that waddled over, effectively putting the whole situation at rest.

“Mama! Are you alright?” Naeun ran over, her expression overly worried as she stood beside you, her little hands grabbing blindly for you and wanting to be held. As she was watching her Uncle Changbin, she’d panicked when he did, automatically thinking that something bad had happened to her mother.

“Oh, my little one, nothing happened. See?” You comforted her, bringing her hands to your cheeks as you smiled, “Mama is fine.”

“My deepest apologies, Your Majesty!” The prince stammered out as you gently placed Naeun in your lap, giving into her cries to be close to you, “I did not mean to cause you harm. Not in the slightest.”

“And you did not,” you spoke gracefully, a hand lightly squeezing your husband’s leg under the table as you took control of the conversation, sensing that the man was no longer thinking rationally. Hyunjin already suspected the prince as the main culprit, and any words that would leave his mouth from here on would be far from pleasant.

You smiled serenely, looking at the prince, “There was no harm done. Pregnancies are always unpredictable.”

The prince nodded, his expression still anxious as he excused himself and took his seat back with his family. Looking at his frazzled expression, the idea that the person who was looking to poison you was less likely to be him.

“Hyunjin, snap that glare off your face. People are beginning to notice,” you hissed in his ear as people began to dance and mingle now that the dinner part of the banquet was done. Naeun was still in your arms, having fallen asleep. It was far past her normal bed time, after all.

But Hyunjin’s fury was just barely contained, “How can I? Someone tried to hurt you, Y/N. Someone tried to do so right before my very eyes, right under the noses of our Kingsguard,” he spoke under his breath, the cold glint in his eyes growing stronger with every moment. The Hwang Hyunjin of old, the ruthless king that ruled without mercy, was returning, and you needed to stop him quickly.

“Making a ruckus will not serve us any good,” you said softly, continuing to bounce Naeun lightly on your lap.

“He needs to know what happens if he hurts a member of the royal family,” Hyunjin’s glare shifted to the prince, who was dancing with his wife amongst the crowd.

“It isn’t him, Hyunjin,” you took his hand, lacing your fingers together, “I’m sure it isn’t.”

“Then who?” He rounded on you, eyes filled with pain and anger as he tried to hide it from nosy onlookers, leaning closer to press a kiss to the crown of your head, “Who would dare hurt the most precious person in my life?”

“I don’t know, Hyunjin. But now isn’t the time to play detective. Let’s get through this party first, alright?” You asked soothingly just as Naeun shifted in your arms, mumbling.

“Papa…”

Hyunjin faltered at that weak cry, and you smiled in relief as you carefully handed Naeun to her father. The king held her in his lap, using her as his anchor. 

"Oh, my little petal," he sighed, letting the girl slump into his chest as she slept soundly, unaware of the turmoil raging through her father's heart. Hyunjin held her close, kissing her hair, and you were able to observe the party absently, letting yourself calm down after a near experience with death.

Who could've done it? The very idea of lacing the queen's drink with poison, and quite possibly starting a war in the process, would scare almost anyone away. It had to be someone with much more to gain from the incident, someone that feels sure enough of their position that they see the act through knowing it could never be traced back to them. 

You sat in relative silence for the rest of the evening, choosing to observe rather than participate as the guests enjoyed the many festivities you'd planned for the evening. One particular man, sitting at the table to your right, who looked suspiciously upset for such a joyous occasion, caught your eye. 

His motives certainly aligned, and he was of high enough status that he probably didn't even have to personally orchestrate any of it to happen. 

Could it be...? There was only one way to quell your suspicions. 

. 

The party ended uneventfully, and soon, many of the guests began to trickle out of the palace gates, ready to retire for the night. One man opted to take a less crowded route back to his estate, cutting through the palace passageways instead of braving the cold and the people. After all, he was no longer in a sociable mood after the events of the night. 

He should've  known it wasn't going to be so easy. The queen was not only royalty, she was an experienced general as well. It shouldn't have been such a surprise that she sniffed out the little surprise so easily. 

Still, even if it was to be expected, it was still a disappointment. If only she wasn't around, things would be so much simpler. He would've been able to further secure his position, maybe even take control of the military. Oh, the possibilities for him were endless if only- 

"General Lee Minho. It's quite late for you to still be here in my palace." 

If only you weren't around to stop him. 

Maintaining his composure, Minto turned around, giving you a perfect bow, "Your Majesty, I didn't mean to impose. I was merely trying to get home-" 

"Why did you do it?" 

Never one to beat around the bush, were you? 

Minho gave you a saccharine smile, his heart still relatively at ease. You had no proof. There was nothing that could connect the act to him. 

"Your Majesty, I don't believe I understand." 

It must've been the wrong thing to say. Your eyebrow raised inquisitively, and you took a step forward, your eyes cold and unwavering. You must've learned a thing or two from your besotted husband.  

"You're a cunning man, General. Our kingdoms profit off your intellect and your strategy," you said, looking straight into his own unflinching gaze.

"In fact, your cunning is the only reason you are still alive." 

The air seemed to grow thinner in an instant, and the pleasantries all but faded from Minho’s expression. You weren't inquiring, you knew it was him. This encounter was merely icing on the cake for you. The general was suddenly aware that the halls were completely empty save for the two of you, and there was not a sound to be heard. Not the sounds of a servant fetching water, or a maid finishing up her errands. Nothing.

Minho pursed his lips, giving you an unreadable gaze, “I wouldn't advise threatening me in your condition,” he commented, eyes falling deliberately to the swell of your stomach.

You couldn't help but smile in amusement at his thinly veiled threat, “I assure you, General, I am perfectly safe.”

“Oh?” Minho raised an eyebrow at your words, “And I suppose one of your two dogs that you call the Kingsguard is hiding just around the corner, waiting for a movement that would put you in danger before cutting me down.”

The silence screamed under the midnight sky, and the candles illuminating the hallway seemed to flicker as your smile turned icy.

“Do you really think I need Felix to intercede in order for me to kill you?”

Your words were barely audible, and could've easily passed as the murmurings of the wind, but for the first time, Minho didn't feel safe. There was something about the glint in your eyes, the way you stood before him like a storm just waiting to tear through him. 

All this time, Minho had not worried about the consequences of his actions. He did not believe that you were in a position to raise a finger at him, especially since the nobles were on his side. You were the former princess of a foreign kingdom, after all. You were the disadvantaged one here. If anything, he was worried what the king might do if his plot was discovered, knowing and having witnessed Hyunjin’s merciless punishments to those that defied him.

But standing before you, alone and without the bravado of his typical entourage, Minho realized. It was you that he should've feared. 

There was not an ounce of humanity, affection, or care in your eyes. The loving queen that had just been cradling her daughter in her arms earlier that night had all but slipped away. Standing before him was a battle-hardened warrior, a woman who had experienced too much suffering to ever go through it again, no matter what it took.

“What do you want from me?” Minho said, his innocent facade fading completely as he finally caved, the hatred seeping into his eyes as he glared at you.

“I want answers, and you will give them to me. If you don't know, which I doubt will be the case, you will direct me to someone who does.”

Minho’s jaw clenched, feeling the growing panic and fury clawing up his chest as he stood before you, with no more cards to play, “Alright.”

“Alright?” You raised an eyebrow, the simplest action laced with an unspoken threat.

“Alright, Your Majesty,” Minho sneered, wanting nothing more than to pull out his hidden blade and run it cleanly through your throat. He knew better though, especially since he was sure Felix had his eyes trained on him, ready to strike.

“Who else is in on this?”

“A few of the lords were vaguely aware that I was plotting something, but they did not actively participate in the act.”

“Were your actions supported?”

Looking down to the side, he muttered, “There were a few people that did not agree on my methods, but still want you removed.”

“Naeun. Is she in danger?” You asked sharply, for the first time, feeling a spike of fear hit you. If there was someone willing to murder your unborn child, you suspected that Naeun would not be safe either.

To your relief, Minho shook his head, “Not that I know of.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. As long as you and your child were relatively safe, you could continue the interrogation more seriously, “You laced my drink with poison, but it was not a large enough dosage to cause death. Why?”

“Your death would effectively sever any alliance between my kingdom and yours,” Minho gritted his teeth as he spoke, as if you were physically pulling out every single word from his mouth, “As much as I despise your kingdom for starting that useless war, I am not arrogant enough to deny that our alliance has benefited both of us greatly.”

“So you wanted my child,” you snarled lowly, your hand unconsciously reaching to touch your stomach as if protecting it, “You wanted me to miscarry.”

Minho smiled, all daggers and fangs as he replied, “If your baby didn't make it, you won't have a male heir. You would most likely have a harder time conceiving, and we'd be able to supply His Majesty with a suitable mistress.”

You stared at Minho, the pieces falling together in your mind as you thought of every moment when the general had tried to undermine you, make your comments less received by actively criticizing them, or scorn you for your status as a foreigner.

“You wanted me to lose favor with Hyunjin,” you concluded, feeling almost disappointed by the turn of events. No matter what kingdom, the power hungry were always the same, tearing down others for their own benefit. Doesn’t the battle for control ever get tiring for them?

Minho barked out a scathing laugh, “Of course I wanted you to lose favor with him. I wanted him to resent you, to hate you, to see you for what you really are, a viper hidden beneath that pretty, pretty face of yours.”

“Why?” You asked, genuinely confused, “Why must you go so far to stop me--to stop him--from being happy?”

“You think he’s happy?” The general scoffed, and against his better judgement, he took a threatening step towards you. The expression on your face barely twitched, but Minho could suddenly feel a murderous aura coming from behind him, and he knew better than to push his luck.

“Do you really think he’s happy?” Minho laughed, “You destroyed him, Your Majesty. You turned him soft. We were going to build the greatest, most ruthless empire the continent has ever known. And suddenly, after he met you, he decided to stop conquering, to take care of his people, to take care of your people after you lost.”

You weren’t expect such a barrage of anger and honesty, but you took the chance while you had it, “And what? You’re upset because you stopped gaining wealth and power in the spades like you used to?”

Minho’s scowl was pure wickedness, and you stared him down, an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, “I’m upset because you turned our king into a soft, weak little boy. The plan was to wring you and your people dry, taking all the resources before leaving you to fend for yourself. And, suddenly, after he met you, he wanted to do nothing but protect you, a cowardly, foolish princess that was nothing but her parent’s puppet--”

“Careful,” your voice was soft, its edges laced with poison as your eyes flashed with a silent warning, “You are alive still because I have use for you, but you run your mouth like that again, and I’ll have your tongue cut out before I slit your throat.”

The general realized the seriousness of your words, and his eyes narrowed, “You have use...of me,” he repeated your words, already disliking where this was going. 

“Of course I do. If I didn’t, your body would have already been dumped into the river by now,” you said pleasantly, the serene smile back on your face as you pulled at your lace gloves.

Minho raised an eyebrow, “Do you think you’d be able to get away with that, Your Majesty?”

“Oh, my dear General,” you couldn’t help but laugh, amused by his doubtfulness at your capabilities, “unlike you, I am not in the position where every move I make is another desperate grab for power. I am the Queen. The power stems from me and my husband. And do you think Hyunjin would care about the potential murderer of his unborn child if I told him the truth?”

Minho’s jaw clenched so hard, it was painful. He underestimated you. Hyunjin was not the ruthless one. You were.

Like a snake constricting its prey, knowing there was no hope of escape, you smiled, “You are in no position to threaten me, Lee Minho, and unless you want me to strip you of all of your titles or for me to tell Hyunjin about what has just transpired, I’d keep that snippy mouth of yours shut.”

How pathetic. You knew exactly what he valued in life, and didn’t hesitate in brandishing against him like a sharpened blade. All of Minho's actions were to protect his reputation with the king and to hold onto the power he'd already earned, and you were dangling that prize over his head, ready to rip it away from him at a moment's notice.

“What does Her Majesty require of me?” Minho asked through gritted teeth and a clenched smile.

“Stop with the schemes. I'm sick and tired of them,” you said tiredly, giving him a wary glare, “Stop trying to usurp my power and overthrow my position as Queen. It doesn't matter how many mistresses you want to throw at Hyunjin. He will always love me as I will always love him, and even if that doesn't come to be, he will always have respect for me.”

Minho felt his blood boil as he nodded, “Yes...Your Majesty.”

You didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you smile, moving straight to the most important term.

“You will instate Naeun as the Crown Princess.”

“Are you insane?” Minho snarled, his anger spiking as he spat at you, “The people who supported me in ruling against her will think I've gone mad.”

“Maybe you should've thought twice before deciding on your vote then,” you smiled placidly as you took a step closer towards him.

“You will instate Naeun as the Crown Princess, no conditions, no what ifs. She is the heir. Understood?”

As he gazed into your eyes, each order you have laced with power and unspeakable threat, Minho saw himself in the reflection of your sharp stare. To you, he was nothing but a mere doll for you to manipulate to your own will, a being that could just as easily be discarded as it can be replaced. 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Minho said again, the hatred in his tone more than apparent.

“I expect the good news to be placed on Hyunjin’s desk tomorrow morning.”

Without another word, another acknowledge or even goodbye, you turned around, walking down the hall and leaving Minho to wallow in his own failure, leaving him to forever berate himself for the missteps he made, the miscalculations that had now put his entire career into the hands of the person he despised most in the kingdom.

“Sounded like things were going well, Your Majesty,” Felix commented nonchalantly as you passed him, the young guard having positioned himself in the adjacent hallway, waiting for any inkling of danger to jump in and protect you. You didn’t fail to notice the way he twirled his knife before slipping it back into its sheathe, obviously having pulled it out when Minho had made a poorly concealed threat regarding your condition.

“Yes, it seems like some good has come out of this ridiculous farce,” you sighed, placing your hand gently over your tummy as you felt the slightest kick against your side. With that conversation, you could only hope that the worst of the nobles’ spite towards you and your blood would soon be over. 

Felix eyed you carefully in the silent walk back to the Royal Chambers, noting both your emotional and physical state, “Are you going to keep this from His Majesty?” He asked, afraid of overstepping his boundaries by prodding too much.

“Eventually, the truth will come out whether I want it to or not,” you said as you entered the private section of the palace, exhaustion laced in your words. Truthfully, if Minho had decided to call your bluff and attacked you earlier, it wouldn’t have been as easy as you’d made him believe it to be. You had your reputation as a powerful general back when you were a princess to thank for how successful your negotiations went.

“Still, I think I’ll keep it a secret...just for tonight,” you confided to Felix tiredly, turning to him with a weary smile, “He’s worried enough already, especially after earlier.”

Felix nodded, and you didn’t need to ask additionally to ensure secrecy. Felix was good about those things. He was a good confidante, and once again, you felt immensely grateful for his presence. 

He gave you a bow, practiced ease and gracefulness exuding from even the simplest of movements as he spoke softly, “Take care of yourself, Your Majesty.”

You couldn’t help but smile, reaching over and gently patting his head, a silent gesture of praise for the young knight who’d done so much for you, “I promise. Now go get some sleep. It’s quite late.”

Felix excused himself politely, and you took a deep breath, heading to the bedroom where your lover was probably waiting anxiously for your return.

.

As you’d expected, Hyunjin was almost beside himself when you walked into the room, his hands freezing from where they were pulling at the roots of his dark hair when he gasped, “Y/N, my love!” He rushed towards you, pulling you into his arms and sweeping you into a tight hug.

“Where have you been? I was worried sick! Changbin said that Felix was with you, so I trusted that nothing was wrong, but you were gone for so long and I thought—”

“Shh, my darling,” you cooed, letting his hands touch you fleetingly everywhere he could, your shoulders, your waist, your tummy, anything to let him know that you were once again safe in his arms.

You smiled, cupping his cheeks as you leaned close, “I’m alright. Everything’s alright. I just needed some air after what happened today, so I took a walk in the gardens. Felix was with me every step of the way.”

Hyunjin let out a sigh of both relief and frustration as he held your hand resting on his cheek, looking into your eyes, “Please don’t scare me like that again,” he whispered, “Not after what happened earlier.”

“Nothing happened, Hyunjin,” you said softly, your thumb lightly brushing his face as you comforted him, “I’m here, aren’t I, safe and sound?”

“Things could’ve turned out so much worse,” he pressed a fleeting kiss to your palm as he held your hand, “I had the liquid inspected. At this very moment, you could’ve been unconscious, fighting for your life, our child...gone,” his voice cracked ever so slightly as he palmed your stomach.

“But it didn’t happen like that,” you reassured him, eyes widening as you saw his own eyes glistening with unshed tears, “Oh, Hyunjin.”

Reaching forward, you wrapped your arms around his waist, burrowing in his chest as Hyunjin easily fell into your embrace, burying his face in your hair as he hugged you tightly. The room filled with the comfortable silence, and your conversation continued without the need for words.

I love you. I want you to be safe. Please don’t do anything dangerous. It was all translated through your touch and the warmth you gained from one another.

Hyunjin’s hugs were warm. They felt like hot chocolate on a cold winter day, like a summer breeze that swept you away. You felt safe just being in his arms, and soon, you let out a quiet yawn, nuzzling into his chest.

“Let me coddle you tonight,” he murmured, sensing you slumping forward in his chest as his fingers lightly massaged your scalp, “I know you don’t like it very much, but just for tonight, can I please take care of you?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his request. As much as Hyunjin liked to be cared for, by you in particular, his favorite hobby was to spoil you in any capacity that he knew how. He loved to lavish you with gifts, shower you with love, and to do every little thing to make you comfortable. You weren’t the person that liked to take advantage of this little trait of his, since you were never one for lavish gift giving nor were you ever given such attention before, but seeing how earnest he was, you decided to compromise, especially after all the worrying Hyunjin had probably gone through just waiting for you to return. 

“Of course,” you nodded, pressing a kiss to his lips, “Let’s get ready for bed.”

Hyunjin was carefully meticulous as he  undid the corset of your party dress, pulled out the pins that held your hair up, and delicately slipped the silk nightgown over your form, all the while trailing kisses wherever he could. You did the same for him, helping him out of his uniform as your lips connected with his.

“I was thinking,” you mumbled absently as Hyunjin kissed you with abandon, his hands nimbly undoing the braids in your hair, “We should go away, just us and Naeun.”

“Oh? Do tell me more,” Hyunjin replied with a soft smile, his lips trailing down to your jaw as you tried your hardest to remember what you were trying to say. What a little brat he was being.

You sucked in a gasp as you rolled your eyes, amused by his antics, “Let’s spend a week at the summer estate. Naeun needs space to run around, and both of us need a breather from our royal duties. You especially.”

Hyunjin groaned at your words, “You’re definitely right about that. But can we afford to leave, with all the chaos going around?” He asked, as he began to usher you to the bed, his arms looping around your legs as he ultimately decided to just carry you.

“H-hyunjin!” You squeaked, surprised by the sudden action as your arms wrapped around his neck. Your husband paid you no mind, carrying you to the bed before placing you down delicately. His eyes met yours and you touched his face, “I’m sure we can make time. We can delegate some of the less important work to some of the council members. If not, we can just work extra hard after to make up for lost time. We all need a break.”

“Your wish is my command, my Queen,” Hyunjin leaned forward, pecking your lips before walking around to crawl under the covers from his side of the bed, “I’ll start planning the details of the trip tomorrow. Deal?”

“Deal,” you smiled, snuggling into the covers and scooting closer to your husband as his hand absently shifted to rest on your tummy.

“It would be good for this little one, too. Just to experience what life outside this stuffy palace is like,” Hyunjin mumbled, his eyes already closing. He was no doubt exhausted from hosting the party and all the preparations before hand.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you giggled. Hyunjin always had a way of bringing the conversation back to the baby, “Yes, it'll be good for them, too,” you agreed softly as your eyes began to close as well. The day had been far too eventful for your liking, and you'd like at least one full night of rest before having to tell Hyunjin about your conversation with Minho.

Suddenly, your ears perked up at the sound of the bedroom door creaking open ever so slightly. Hyunjin reacted instantly, pulling you close as he sat up to see who had come in.

“Papa…? Mama…?”

Naeun’s sleepy voice was soft and almost inaudible, but Hyunjin let out a sigh, relaxing as he could make out the little figure of his daughter standing at the door.

“Naeun, what’s wrong?” He asked gently, beckoning her over to his side of the bed, “It’s way past your bedtime.”

“I-i—” The little girl rubbed her heavy eyes as she waddled over to her father as she began to whimper, “I had a bad dweam, P-papa.”

Hyunjin’s heart and yours simultaneously melted as a silent agreement passed between the two of you. The priority was no longer to get a good night's sleep; it was your daughter’s comfort.

“Oh, petal. Was it scary?” Hyunjin cooed, reaching down and easily picking her up, settling her in the large bed. He placed her right in the middle, and you rolled over to your side so you could gently wipe her tears.

Naeun nodded at his words, her lips curled in a trembling pout, “Scawy. C-couldn’t find Mama—a-and people saying that Papa was gone…” Her lip quivered again and she began to cry just from remembering the awful images that passed through her head.

“Shh, shh. Oh, dear,” Hyunjin quickly grabbed a spare handkerchief on the night stand beside his bed as you sat up, murmuring comforting words as you cupped Naeun's cheeks gently. 

“Naeun, my little princess,” you said softly, looking into her sparkling eyes as large crocodile tears rolled down her cheeks, “Mama and Papa are right here. We'll always be here for you, alright? No matter what happens, your Mama and Papa would never, ever abandon you like that.”

The little girl sniffled as Hyunjin wiped away her tears, smiling fondly, “Your mother said it best, petal. No matter what, we'll be here to support you, protect you, and love you until you've grown sick of our coddling.” 

Hyunjin couldn't help but add in a little teasing, booping her nose as he said, “Even after you grow sick of us, we'll still stick annoyingly close.”

Naeun scrunched her nose as she always did when hyunjin messed with her, and she frowned, “I won't ever get sick of Papa and Mama. Never!”

“Oh, one day, you'll take those words back,” you added playfully as you tickled Naeun's little tummy, making her squeal with delight and effectively drawing the nightmare out of her immediate thoughts. Hyunjin joined in, tag teaming your poor daughter until she was too exhausted to keep her eyes open. 

"Love Papa... Love Mama," Naeun mumbled sleepily as she curled into the warm blankets, beginning to fall asleep. You smiled at her words, pressing a kiss to her hair. 

"Mama and Papa love you more than anything else in the whole world," you reassured her, brushing the stray hairs out of her face, "Get some sleep, little one.  Nothing can hurt you here." 

Naeun mumbled in acknowledgment, and her little hands wrapped around Hyunjin’s pinky, making her father’s heart positively melt, “Papa...sing.”

“Sing?” He repeated, slightly flustered as he shifted to a more comfortable position, making sure that Naeun was still able to hold onto his pinky. 

“Mhm, Papa sing,” Naeun nodded as she curled up into a little ball, bringing Hyunjin's hand to her chest as she began to doze off on her own.

You couldn't help but giggle as you burrowed into the covers as well, wrapping a gentle around your daughter as you smiled up at Hyunjin, “Won't you honor a princess’s request?” You teased.

Hyunjin pouted at you, scrunching his nose much like how Naeun had done only minutes before, “But I'm the king,” he said petulantly, making Naeun giggle at his antics, “I can do whatever I want!”

“Well, your Queen is now requesting a song as well,” you said with an air of playful haughtiness as Naeun and you shared a conspiratorial glance.

“Oh dear,” Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair, “then, I believe I don't have a choice if my Queen and my Princess so insist.”

“You don't!” Naeun chirped in, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Hyunjin let out a dramatic sigh before propping himself up against the headboard and pulling Naeun into his chest so she could rest comfortably in his arms. He didn't forget you, of course, and laced his fingers with yours as you decided not to move around as much, resting on your side of the bed as you held his hand.

The sound of soft-spoken singing wafted into your ears like a gentle breeze. Hyunjin, albeit not a professional in any way, always had a nice voice. It was the kind of voice that could lull you into relaxation, the kind of voice that soothed your unsettled heart. Before long, your eyes grew too heavy to keep open, and you drifted off to sleep with your hand wrapped around Hyunjin’s.

Hyunjin gazed down at his family as he slowly stopped singing, noticing that the two of you had fallen asleep. Without the prying eyes of the world boring down on him, he could finally drop his guard and his cold exterior to fully admire the two people he loved, the little girl in his arms that he treasured so dearly and you, the love of his life that showed him what it truly meant to have a soulmate, a person to confide in wholeheartedly. 

It was his little personal heaven, just to see the two of you sleeping safe and sound, to lie in bed with both his daughter and his wife just at arm's reach. He savored it as much as he could, squeezing your hand once more before putting down himself, pulling the warm covers higher over Naeun to keep her healthy. And not for the first time, Hyunjin wistfully dreamed of a life where he was not the king, where he could be a simple man, only tasked to provide and love his family. 

Hyunjin knew he would be asking for too much. He knew what the two of you had promised to those that had put their faith in your hands. You'd promised to protect them, to wear the crown and carry the burdens of your kingdom, no matter how bruised, bloodied or battered the journey made you. 

But as he stared down at your peaceful expression, your lips slightly parted and your eyes fluttered shut, he couldn't help but remember the terror he felt just hours before, the all consuming fear that you would disappear from his life. And for the first time, Hyunjin was at a loss, facing a crossroad that—in the naivety of his youth—he never thought he’d encounter.

If he had to choose between you or his country, what would he do? If he had to protect the integrity of his kingdom and sacrifice Naeun, would he be able to do it? Before you came along, Hyunjin cared about nothing but his work, his duty. But now, he had a family that he'd do anything to protect.

At the party, Hyunjin felt anger like he'd never felt before in his life. It was more than fury, it was pure rage. He would've been willing to lock the doors and interrogate every single person present in the banquet hall if you hadn't calmed him down. He didn't want to become a king like that, he didn't want to become a ruler than put his own needs and his family’s needs before everything else. 

But if he lost you, if he lost Naeun, if he lost his unborn child, his whole world would shatter. It was almost terrifying how much the past five years had changed him. 

“Hyunjin,” his eyes flew open as he suddenly felt your thumb brush against the back of your hand. Turning his head, he realized that you had woken up, your eyes gazing at him with a mixture of sympathy and love that Hyunjin wanted to drown in.

“You're thinking too much again,” you murmured sleepily, playing absently with his fingers without jostling Naeun, “At this point, you'll have wrinkles before you're even middle aged.”

The king couldn't help but chuckle at your little quip, pressing a kiss to your hand, “I'm sorry, my love. Did I wake you?”

“No, I woke up on my own,” you reassured him, “But I'm glad I did. What's wrong, darling?”

Hyunjin bit his lip, hesitating for a moment. He shouldn't bother you with his feelings, not when you already had to worry about yourself on top of the baby you were carrying. 

“Hyunjin,” you murmured his name once more, and he felt his body shudder at how sweet, how loving you sounded, “You can tell me anything.” 

It was the only gentle nudge he needed.

“I'm worried about this,” Hyunjin said softly, “Our family. I can't stop worrying. I didn't know about the poison, even though all the food and drinks were inspected. When will it ever be enough?”

You squeezed his hand, “You're putting too much responsibility on yourself. The family’s safety is not your burden to bear alone, it is for us to share.”

Hyunjin nodded, “I know,” he sighed, running a hand through his midnight hair, “I know, Y/N. But I just wish I could do more.”

“You do more than enough for us, darling,” you reassured him, “You do more than any king would do for their families. It's alright, Hyunjin. You're doing so well.”

“I am?” Hyunjin sucked in a breath, placing your hand on his cheek as he closed his eyes, revelling in your words and your presence. 

“You are.”

These were not honey coated words to soothe a monarch and appease his temper. You meant them more than you could ever express. You knew Hyunjin was trying his best. You knew Hyunjin was most likely protecting you from forces that you weren't even aware of, just like the way you'd dealt with Minho just earlier. 

“I found out who did it, by the way,” you mumbled, figuring that this felt like the right time to tell him in hopes that Hyunjin might sleep better knowing that the problem was dealt with.

There was a moment of deathly silence before Hyunjin uttered a single word, "Who?" 

You sighed. Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all, especially since your daughter was soundly sleeping in the space between the both of you, "Promise that you won't do anything rash right now." 

"You're asking me not to do anything rash when I find out who tried to murder my unborn child and harm my wife?" Hyunjin asked in disbelief. 

“I'm asking you not to overreact now while your daughter is sleeping," you hissed back, "I handled it for the time being." 

Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh, "Alright, you win. You have my word,” he said, lacing his fingers with yours.

You bit your lip, wondering if it would just be easier to be completely honest or to ease into it gently. After a moment of consideration, you decided on the former. 

“It’s Minho.”

Hyunjin reacted without thinking, feeling the rage run through his veins once again as he began to sit up, “That bastard--”

As he shifted aggressively, Naeun whined in her sleep, beginning to squirm. You wrapped your arm around her body as your other hand grabbed Hyunjin’s sleeve, “You promised!”

Hyunjin’s steeled eyes softened as he looked down at the little girl beside him, and he slumped back on the bed, pressed a kiss to her forehead and rubbing her back, helping soothe her back to a deep sleep, “I should’ve gotten rid of him earlier. I knew he disliked your presence, but I thought--I thought he’d be able to see past the differences.”

“As did I,” you admitted, running your fingers gently through Naeun’s hair as her whimpers stopped and slowly went back to soft breaths, “but it seems like he disappointed both of us.” 

The king sighed tiredly, feeling the rest of his fiery hot anger dissipate as he turned to lie on his side, his eyes trained on Naeun as he made sure she was asleep, “You said you handled it. Let me guess, it was when you ‘went for a walk.’” 

“You know me too well,” Flicking his forehead playfully, you couldn’t help but smile, “Yes, we had a quick conversation as I was walking back to the chambers. I don’t believe he will try it again any time soon.”

“I would ask what you told him, but I almost don’t want to know,” Hyunjin said with a hint of a smile as he closed his eyes, “My wife can be very scary when she wants to be.”

You shrugged, stroking his cheek fondly for a moment longer before pulling your hand away and lying back down, “I’m the same as you, Jinnie. Anything to protect this family we’ve created.”

Hyunjin hummed in agreement, his long arm draping over to wrap around both you and Naeun, “Anything. But for now, let’s sleep. Thank you, Y/N.”

“Whatever for?” You asked curiously, unsure of what Hyunjin was thinking about in that little head of his. 

“For being here. For loving me. For everything you do,” he mumbled, already beginning to fall asleep    as his words began to slur. Your heart felt warm and fluttery as you smiled, patting the back of his hand as you mumbled your sleepy reply.

“I’ll always be here for you, Jinnie. You’re not alone anymore.”

Hyunjin cracked a smile at that, and hugged you and Naeun ever so slightly tighter in his arms. You were right. He wasn’t alone anymore. He had you and Naeun, whom he loved with every fiber of his being. He had Changbin and Felix, who were slowly becoming less like guards and more like their surrogate family. 

And for all those reasons, Hwang Hyunjin fell asleep considering himself quite lucky. 

[yoonpobs]

10 years | ksj

pairing: kim seokjin x oc (ft. brother!jimin)

genre: brother's best friend, angst, forgiveness?, teeny tiny fluff (it's barely there lol)

words: 7, 294

summary: 10 years change people but you still remember

"Why are you freaking out?" Isabelle is attempting to get you to stay in one position, but it's fruitless when all you do is pace back and forth in the space of the changing rooms when you hear people barking orders from the outside.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" You exasperate.

Isabelle glares at you, nimble hands reaching to tighten the lace corset around your waist in one swift motion; turning your body to face her as she does her job of primping you up.

"You're being dramatic." She rolls her eyes.

You huff.

You loved Isabelle, probably because she's been working for your family for years and that she was the mother figure in your life that you never could have gotten from your own biological one—but also because she was the only person that knew her way around that thorny mind of yours.

"What would you do if you haven't seen someone in over ten years and the last memory you have with them is bitter?" You say in a hushed whisper.

Isabelle's eyes soften, hands reaching out to rest on your shoulders as your head droops, anxiety blooming in your chest even if you weren't the one getting married today.

"What can you do but say hello?" She says, "Time doesn't stop for anyone, _____."

You sigh, fiddling with your fingers when you hear the rustles of the curtains, causing both of your heads to turn towards the source of the noise.

"_____, your brother is asking for you." Lea, your brother's wedding planner, peeks her head through the curtains to call you.

Your heart betrays your seemingly calm stature as you begin to perspire, terrified of being face to face with the person that you should've been most excited to see.

"Time's up, ______. You can't run forever." Isabelle says, eyes solemn.

"You'd think being an adult would mean you grow out of old habits ..." Jimin mutters, glaring at you when you finally make your appearance at the rehearsal dinner.

You stick your tongue out at him petulantly, unable to forget the fact that he was no longer the older brother that you hero-worshipped because he excelled in everything that he did, nor was he the kid that stole your figurines to spite you. He was a man, older and more mature—with a wedding to celebrate the beginning of a new life with his partner.

He looks nervous, you can tell because you know Jimin better than most—a position you begrudgingly gave up in replacement of his wife, Risa—so you offer him a squeeze of his shoulder, and a look to tell him that you were here, and he was okay.

Jimin accepts it with a small smile of gratitude, moving aside so you could take your seat on the VIP table where most of his important guests sat, meaning your parents, Risa's parents, the best man and the maid of honour.

From the moment you stepped foot into the hall, you spot the person that should have been unfamiliar to you, but all you can remember is what was the best years of your life that was taken away from you. It should've been hard to spot him through the pastels and people, but you've always had eyes for him—the foolish lens of a girl that didn't want to grow up.

Even as you seat at the table, mingling with your future sister-in-law, and the maid of honour, along with Risa's parents, you can't bring yourself to acknowledge him just yet, and he has yet to make it known that he acknowledges you too.

Perhaps it was the pettiness from both ends. The fact that neither of you wanted to step down just yet, the last known interaction between the both of you only causing your heart to constrict further. You wonder if he remembers you the way you have with him.

"______," Risa calls your name, leaning in to whisper into your ear as you snap your focus on her.

"Hey, sorry." You mumble, scratching your neck, "Was a little distracted."

Risa offers you an understanding smile and you're grateful to the heaven's above that Jimin managed to make a woman like her fall in love with him. It was a far better alternative and change from the demons he used to go for as a high schooler, and you fondly (but not really) remember fighting off crazy exes when your brother decided that they weren't his long-term.

"Is this about ..." You can tell Risa hesitates to say his name, knowing the matter was still a fresh wound for you even if you had a decade to heal.

You sigh, reaching for her hand to give it a squeeze, mustering a strong front so she wouldn't worry anymore.

"Don't worry about me. It's your special day." You remind her with a soft smile.

She scoffs.

"Not yet. This is to ensure nothing goes to shit and no one gets left at the altar on a real day." She mutters.

You giggle, and even Jimin picks up on his soon-to-be wife's comment and pinches her hip, giving her a glare that lacked any real malice. You observe the way Jimin leans into his fiancee's touch when she reaches for his hand, a gesture so simple but carried the weight of lovers that wholly trusted each other.

Sometimes you envied Jimin. Throughout your adolescent years, you were always pinned against him for reasons that you still cannot justify.

The two of you were fundamentally different in nature. Jimin was a quiet kid, but his actions were the ones that spoke for him instead. For what he couldn't say in words, he made up for through the results of his actions. As a younger sibling, watching Jimin excel in every activity that he sets his mind to make you worship him, wanting to be as talented and ambitious as he was.

If he did kendo, you'd sign up so you could carry on the legacy of his talent. When he ran for class president, so did you in your own grades. Everything was always stemmed around Jimin and what he did.

Even if he was quiet, he naturally took the lead in doing things. Where you were the polar opposite. A louder than life personality should have made you the proactive one, but deep down you were meek, timid and terrified of doing things out of your comfort zone.

It did hit a sore spot for you and Jimin's relationship when he grew up enough to no longer facilitate his baby sister's incessant whines and tugs to join him in his activities. You remember the day clearly when he told you that you were nothing but an extension of him.

When you look back, you can think of it as a fond memory of two teenagers that were horrible at speaking about their feelings, but you remember the hurt you felt; only wanting to be a part of Jimin's life when he wanted to be on his own.

It took a few years to repair the relationship that was fragile, to begin with, and it wasn't just the effort of you or Jimin, but—

"Hyung, do you need to run the video through IT to check if it's playable?"

You're brought back to the present when Jimin's voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and you instantly know who he's referring to.

The only person that he could comfortably refer to as 'hyung' was the only person that you have yet to greet, or acknowledge.

"I see what you're doing, Park. You're not seeing this video until the 13th."

The rest of the people at the table laugh at the banter between best friend's, but you remain uncharacteristically silent. No one picks up on it—or if they did, they know well enough not to point it out for the sake of maintaining normalcy at the table.

You listen attentively to the briefing run down by Lea, and you smile fondly at the fire that the young wedding planner carried in herself. She was meticulous, and you only had Risa to thank for managing to get the most dedicated wedding planner that you were sure was out there.

Eventually, you had to practice the walk-in from the runway, up until the altar behind where the bride and groom were to be situated. That meant you have shuffled around under Lea's commands, and that you caught more of his appearance than you would have liked.

Of course, he grew up beautifully. He had always been exceptionally good-looking even from when you were in high school up to your early college years. The birth lottery definitely favoured some people, and he was on the top of the list.

But he no longer had the same youthful charm that he did when you last saw him at 23. He looked rougher around the edges, lines on his face that come with time and experience, the stroke of a paintbrush that you weren't there to witness. Age did him well—and you couldn't deny the fact that as he grew, he also grew more attractive. The assuredness that comes with age, and the physique that you can only appreciate from afar.

The suit he's wearing is ever so flattering on his broad shoulders. He followed the theme well, a black blazer, with a deep-maroon sash draped over his shoulders. You applaud the designer that had done the fitting for him because it looked perfect, quite literally like it was made for him.

You feel mediocre immediately. The dress you were wearing was stunning—in the most objective sense—and you had a matching coloured sash that was draped around your hips instead, the corset accentuating your figure. But you were still far from comparison from him. You always have been.

"_____, could you please stand next to Jin?" Lea's voice calls out an order from the front of the altar, waving her notebook at you to step aside.

Your eyes widen as you feel the blood in your face drain, hearing your new position for the photo session.

You don't want to throw anyone off, or make Jimin's special day about you—so you suck it up, take a deep breath and shuffle into position next to Jin.

His presence is overwhelming. It's like he's there but he isn't. He doesn't feel like he's there, probably because of how long the two of you haven't spoken to each other, basically strangers. You don't acknowledge him even when your shoulder accidentally brushes against his arm, and you definitely don't acknowledge him when Lea smiles at the two of you and says perfect.

You see Risa's concerned stare on the two of you, but you give her a tight smile and mouth to her to focus on what Lea's saying instead. She narrows her eyes at you but finally relents when you nod your head to tell her that it was fine.

You were older. You weren't going to let some ... you didn't even know what to call it. But you weren't going to let the past make you feel uncomfortable when the future hasn't been told just yet.

"Jin—could you loosen up a little? It looks like you're constipated and your face isn't going to make up for that on camera," Lea deadpans, shooting a blunt comment straight at Jin.

He flushes beside you, but you don't look at him to know that because you hypothesised that he still has the same habit of his ear's turning red if all attention is on him.

"You and I know my face would've been the highlight of the picture if it weren't for the lovebirds." He quips back.

You can't find it in yourself to laugh yet when others do, but you look down at your feet to pretend like you were distracted.

Even his voice sounds more like himself. He had always been Jin, but it's like he grew out of the mould he forced himself into when you last saw him; a more relaxed yet determined version of the past that no longer exists.

"Jin!" Lea calls out.

"That seems to be your favourite word today ..." Jin mutters, which causes Jimin to snort at his best friend's antics.

Risa slaps your brother on his shoulder and narrows her eyes at him, and it's comical how fast she managed to get him to neutralise his expression.

"For a very good reason," Lea retorts, "Could you hold _____ by the waist? The space between the two of you looks too awkward."

If only she knew.

This was possibly the situation that you wanted to avoid the most, not even acknowledging him yourself, or his name to say hello—but he had to hold you close like you were something to him.

"Shouldn't he be holding the maid of honour—?" You helplessly try to reason, but the words get stuck in your throat when Lea glares at you.

For someone younger than you, and smaller than you in height too—she was terrified when she had to be.

"It's ... fine," Jin says after a beat of silence.

Then, his hand snakes around your waist so snug as he pulls you slightly closer to him that you almost lose your footing.

You gulp, unable to ignore the heat of his grasp or the way that it feels so natural as he rests his palm loosely on your hips, fingers drumming against the bone absentmindedly as Lea directs the photographer with angles that she best believe captures the moment.

When the photographer begins the countdown, you force a smile as genuine as you can, while Jin squeezes your hips as the shutter goes off.

"You two looked comfy." Jimin slides into the seat next to you after the rehearsal, rubbing on his eye with a cotton pad to remove the makeup that was applied on him.

You scowl, swatting his hand away to berate him for causing wrinkles so early on as he huffs at your adamancy.

"Don't ignore me," He pokes your side as you sigh.

"Then don't overthink it, okay? It was for the picture." You grumble, eyes focused on the bits and bobs of makeup tools at the vanity inside the changing rooms.

You can feel Jimin's stare on you, as well as how hard he thinks. Call it a sibling intuition, but you knew exactly when he was overanalysing situations, and you felt that at this exact moment.

"You know you have to speak to him eventually, right?" Jimin says after a while.

You freeze, fingers pausing as you tap against the table. Your eyes meet Jimin's through the mirror and you know he's serious, his expression says it all. But he wasn't there when it happened, and he wasn't you to feel how it felt.

"I went for ten years without talking to him. Another ten won't be hard." You clip.

Jimin sighs, turning his body to face you as you keep your shoulders towards him. It feels very much like when you were younger when Jimin sat you down to lecture you about your behaviour, or reprimanding you for doing certain things to keep you safe.

But it's vastly different. You're twenty-eight now, and you no longer took Jimin's words as the word of God, and he knew that.

"I don't know what exactly what went down between the two of you but according to Jin—"

"And you don't need to. It's been ages, Jimin. I've moved on." You snap.

Jimin purses his lips, seeing the way you're beginning to draw up all your walls against him again. It makes his heart clench because there was a time where you would have told him everything, where you would have confided him when you were having troubles. But he knew he ruined that relationship himself, and even if it's been over a decade since that fight the two of you had, the scar of the experience would always be there to haunt you both.

He knew you didn't hold it against him anymore, but he also recognised the way you'd subtly pull away sometimes, the reason why you never visited as often as you said you would in your infrequent phone calls.

"I'm just ..." He mumbles, looking at you earnestly but you don't return the stare, "I'm worried, ______."

You scoff.

"You don't need to. I won't cause a scene at your wedding, okay? I—I'm not like that ..." You start off strong, but finish in a soft whisper.

Jimin's eyes soften when he reaches a hand to rest against your shoulder.

"That's not what I meant." He sighs.

"Whatever it is that you meant just ... forget it, okay? I'm a grown-up now. I'm not your baby sister anymore." You tell him.

He flinches at the bluntness of your words but knows that you don't mean any harm to them. It was the truth that he had a hard time accepting, especially when he could've been there for you more during the years of university and the beginning of your work-life.

"I ..." Jimin trails off.

You sigh, turning around to finally face him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," You wince, "It's just that ... you don't need to worry about my battles anymore, Jimin. I've learnt how to deal with them on my own and you have your own set of things to worry about. I'll always be your sister, and nothing will change that—but I'm just not the same, impressionable girl I was a decade ago."

Jimin bites his lip as he mulls over your words, a fact hard for him to accept but nevertheless, he must. He always had the tendency to be overprotective and possessive, whether it be of his relationships, activities or belongings—it was an ugly trait that got the best of him from time to time.

He knew deep down, that he played a part in why you and Jin are so sour with each other, and he can't easily get rid of that guilt.

"I know, I know," He exhales, "If that's the case then ..."

You raise an eyebrow, willing him to continue.

"Then?"

"Don't let me be the reason why you can't fight your battles," He tells you softly.

Your expression remains stoic, but you internally agree with what he says. You'd never blame Jimin, and you knew it was irrational to do so—but the ugly feeling of needing someone to blame that wasn't yourself or Jin was dominant in your conscious.

"I promise." You smile at him extending your pinky finger out, and he grins at the old ritual the two of you would do as kids.

"Good." He ruffles your hair, and you glare at him when he messes up your up-do that Isabelle spent a long time on.

"Dude!" You whine, but he snickers at your reaction.

"Ah, can't believe that I'm getting married in a week." He adds as he stares at the ceiling.

You smile to yourself and nod your head in agreement.

"Remember when you told me you were going to marry Hana?" You snort.

He grimaces, the memories of his college self resurfacing at the reminder of his ex-girlfriend's name.

"Thank God you snapped me out of it," He whistles lowly, "She was fucking insane."

You chuckle at that because Jimin sure had a type, and it was the insane girls with daddy issues. Even Risa was a little crazy but she had a good heart to make up for it.

"It seems to be a trend with you." You shrug your shoulders.

He narrows his eyes at you and flicks you on the forehead before he glances down at his watch to curse under his breath.

"Fuck. I have a meeting at the office," He groans.

Your lips tilt upwards at his distraught as you pat him on the shoulder, gesturing him to leave.

"Don't worry. I'll find my way home."

"Are you sure—"

"Yes, Jimin—I'm sure. Now leave before they find a new CEO." You quip teasingly.

He thanks you, and presses a kiss onto your forehead before he scampers off, grabbing at his coat before he's out the door.

Once he's out of the room, you sigh to yourself; suddenly oddly nostalgic at your childhood, up to teenage memories as you and Jimin were speaking about it.

You purse your lips, unable to get Jin out of your head even when you look back to all the fun times you had as a teenager because he's always been there ... until he wasn't.

You wince, remembering the day it happened so clearly.

The smell of burnt something pricks the air and you only have yourself to blame.

You curse when you see clouds of black smoke escaping the small vents of your oven, the shady proof of how horrible you were at baking even if it was for a cause that resonated deeply in your heart.

You were thankful that your mom wasn’t home to witness your blunder because she surely would have yapped your ear off for trusting your clumsy self in the kitchen, let alone baking a recipe that was far out of your skill range.

“Why does it smell like—_____, really?” Jimin’s voice enters your thoughts as he ascends down the stairs of your home to spot you hastily fanning the smoke away with your mittens.

“Can you shut up and help me?” You hiss.

He laughs, loud and clear as he clutches his stomach to control his body.

“Dude—why?” He wheezes.

You chuck one of the mittens at him when he finally enters the kitchen, body moving at its own accord to get the trash bin along with the mitten that you threw at him while he pushes your body aside.

“Jin’s leaving tomorrow so I thought I would make some of his favourite shortbreads …” You mutter.

Jimin gracefully plucks out the burnt batch of shortbread and chucks it into the waste bin as you pout at your efforts being thrown away.

“And you didn’t bother asking for help when you know he gets his shortbread’s from a bakery?” He deadpans.

You roll your eyes and wipe your hands on your apron as you sigh.

“Look—I wasn’t thinking and now I don’t have anything to give him before he leaves!” You pout.

Jimin eyes you suspiciously and raises an eyebrow as he leans against the counter to observe your sullen expression.

“So? It’s not like he’d care.”

You glare at him.

“Well—I care.” You retort.

Jimin is silent for a moment before his eyes widen, his body inching closer to yours as if he found out something that he needed to tell you.

“Do you … do you like Jin?” Jimin gasps.

Your eyes widen, cheeks reddening simultaneously as you quickly shake your head to deny the fact—even though your heart and face betray you.

“W-What?” You squeak, “Of course not! It’s just a nice gesture to send him off.”

Jimin scoffs and narrows his eyes at you accusingly.

“Then why did you go out of your way to bake him something he likes when you know you’re hopeless in the kitchen?”

You roll your eyes, hoping your nonchalance plays off well enough to distract Jimin from the way your handshakes at the prospect of being caught.

“He’s my friend, Jimin. I do nice things for my friends sometimes.”

Jimin looks like he doesn’t believe you, and you wish that for one moment he wouldn’t use his brain to overthink your words or the sibling telepathy he claims to have to unravel your heart’s true intentions.

“He’s my best friend. Aren’t I supposed to be the one doing all of …” He gestures to the mess of the kitchen you left it in, “… this?”

“Well you don’t own him and you definitely don’t pick who Jin’s friends with. So fuck off will you?” You snap.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you.

“He’s five years older than you.” He reminds you slowly.

You sigh, busying yourself with cleaning up the kitchen counter.

“And? You’re two years older than me but you don’t see me condemning our sibling-ship.” You retort.

“That’s not what I meant,” He groans, “He doesn’t need a kid having a crush on him, okay? He’s off to university.”

The way Jimin uses the word ‘kid’ doesn’t sit well with you, as if to tell you that you were inferior to him and Jin because you were younger than him. But you weren’t far off, and heck, you’d argue that you were far more mature than your brother or any of his friends.

“I’m graduating high school this year.” You sneer.

“And Jin is off to university!” He exasperates.

“I don’t know what your problem is because I—don’t—have—a—crush—on—him!” You emphasise with a shove of your finger to his chest with every word.

“You better not because that’ll be weird. I don’t need my sister crushing on my best friend.” He scrunches his nose when he says that.

The drop of your heart is inevitable, but you’ve long decided that you don’t live your life to please Jimin anymore, and what you wanted what was what mattered.

“Yeah, yeah,” You wave him off, chucking the last bit of your dishes into the sink before you glance over at the clock.

“Tell mom I’ll be out!” You say, throwing off your apron as you quickly check your appearance when you grab for your car keys.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asks.

You glare at him, slipping on your shoes as quickly as you possibly can before you call out to him, halfway out the door:

“Jin’s!”

“Oh, hey _____.” Jin is surprised when you turn up on his doorstep.

“Hey yourself,” You smile, stepping in after you’ve slipped your shoes off.

“What … what are you doing here?” He asks when the two of you make your way up to his room, after offering a greeting to his parents and brother in the kitchen.

You flop on to the beanbag at the corner of his room and give him a knowing stare.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” You say.

He nods his head, understanding as he glances around his barren room, most of his belongings packed away in his luggage.

“Are you here to say goodbye?” He teases.

You scoff.

“I suppose.” You shrug, “There was supposed to be shortbread too but …”

He laughs, a sound that you’ve come to adore, even as a young girl you always thought Jin was the funniest person ever. When Jimin would argue that he was funnier, you’d always jump to defend Jin’s ability to make you laugh instead.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” He says to you, plopping down to sit across from you.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving.” You sigh, resting your head against the plushness of the beanbag.

Jin snorts.

“Why does it sound like I’m never coming back?” He jokes.

“Well, for starters, you’re going to be in a completely different time-zone. Two, flight tickets get super expensive during the holiday season’s so I doubt you’d be back. And three—you’d probably make cool university friends keep you company so that you wouldn’t wanna’ come back anyways.”

Jin looks at you, lips twitching upwards as you complain.

“You … you thought that through, huh?”

You roll your eyes, chucking a figurine in his direction.

“Just, promise to call?” You whisper.

He smiles softly at you and nods.

“Course’. I’ll ring Jimin up and we can all talk.”

You blink at his choice of words, afraid he’s misunderstood your point.

“I mean … you can call me …” You mutter.

Jin pauses for a moment, before catching himself and chuckling softly under his breath.

“Wouldn’t that be kind of weird …?”

His choice of words only reminds you of Jimin’s tone when he warned you against your apparent (but very present) crush on Jin.

“Why would it be weird?” You tilt your head to the side.

He snorts at your question and you frown because you don’t understand what aspect of it was funny at all.

“Come on, you’re Jimin’s baby sister. If I called you it would seem predatorial, won’t it? I’m literally five years older than you.”

You don’t think he means to sound condescending, but the tone of his words definitely come across that way. You bite your tongue to not say anything rash just yet, as you take a deep breath before you respond.

“We’re friends … and I turn eighteen in June.” You remind him about your birthday coming in two months.

He shrugs.

“Yes but it’s still weird. It would just seem like we’re together, you know?”

His words make you freeze, eyes widening at his implication.

“Would that be such a bad thing …?” You whisper, and the words leave your mouth before you can think twice.

Jin hears you loud and clear, and his eyes widen. You see his body tense and the way he shifts away from you ever-so-slightly that it makes your heart drop.

“_____ … I don’t …” He tries to navigate the topic, but your eyes are bored straight on his face and it flusters him.

“You’re a kid, _____. I don’t date kids.” He snaps, deciding to opt for a defensive approach.

The demeaning term sets you off as you feel anger bubble through your system in bursts of hotness.

“I’m not a fucking kid!” You snap, and his eyes widen at your tone.

“Woah, calm down—”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” You lash out, “I’m not some dumb or naive child that doesn’t know what’s right or wrong, okay? I’m turning eighteen this year—and I—I thought you were better than this. How could you be so shallow?”

Jin scoffs.

“Shallow? _____,” He deadpans, “You’re just turning eighteen and I’m twenty-three. That’s a whole five-year difference. I don’t think you’re dumb but the thought of dating you right after you turn eighteen is just …” He shudders.

You still.

You didn’t know Jin could hurt you so much with just words, but he did just that. He didn’t need to say much, but you felt every sting that came with his intentions.

“Who said anything about dating?” You ask hoarsely, “I just said to call me.”

Jin softens a little, turning to face you as he sighs.

“_____ … I know you have a crush on me and—”

You’re absolutely mortified when he exposes you out in the open like that, the truth left out for both of you to mull over; but even worse for you as you were the one that was on the plank.

“Why does everyone keep saying that!” You snap, embarrassment crawling up your neck as you avoid his gaze, attempting to deflect.

“—I don’t need you waiting for me when I’m off to university. I’ll be fucking around a lot and you don’t deserve that.”

You gape at him, stunned at his audacity.

“Do you think I’m that pathetic?” You laugh, but there’s no humour in it.

“What? No—”

“Oh, you so do, Kim Seokjin,” You snarl, “Do you think I would wait for you? To live out some stupid fairytale? Yes—I have a crush on you but that’s all there is to it—a fucking crush!” You yell.

His eyes widen, attempting to reach out for you to calm you down, but you shift away.

“I’m not asking for your hand in marriage but just for a fucking phone call. I’m not even asking you to like me back!” You throw your hands into the air.

“But you’re implying it! Why else would I call some girl that I’m only friends with cause' of her brother if I didn’t like her?”

That’s all it takes for silence to overtake the both of you, your mouth stunned shut as your eyes widen at his words.

“What?” You choke.

It’s like Jin is blinded by the need to defend himself, a carnal desire to protect his own heart to make him feel less like a weirdo about the way his best friend’s little sister makes him feel. An odd feeling he never wanted to acknowledge until he acknowledged you.

“I mean exactly what I said, ____,” He spits so vehemently that he doesn’t recognise himself, “All you do is follow us around like some helpless puppy because of what—your crush on me? Get over it because I’ll never like you.”

You freeze, and your heart does too.

“Do you think I willingly talk to you? It’s because of Jimin! You’re his baby sister. What else could I do? Tell you to fuck off?” He snaps.

Your lip trembles but you will yourself not to cry in front of him. Not this boy who thinks of you that way, as someone’s baby sister rather than who you were.

“You don’t need to tell me anything,” You say, oddly calm, but your glassy eyes are what snaps Jin out of it.

“Wait … ____,” He sighs.

“I’ll fuck off myself, all right?” You grit, pushing yourself off the beanbag before you’re storming out of his room.

Jin doesn’t bother chasing after you because he’s mulling over his words, absolutely disgusted with what he said. His parents and brother miss you when you’re out the door crying.

Jimin doesn’t even ask how you were.

“Oh—”

It’s like he’s always there at your most vulnerable moments.

Jin is hovering by the entrance of the changing room awkwardly, his limbs too long for the tight space.

He startles you out of your reminiscent state as you clutch the robe to your chest, acutely aware of the fact that you were in nothing but your bra and underwear underneath it.

You flush, avoiding his eyes, afraid that if you looked at them; all you would remember is what he said to you.

“It’s fine,” You parrot the words he said to you earlier, and quickly pack your belongings, and casual clothes into a bag to make your way out back into your hotel room.

As you brush past him, he stops you with his voice.

“______.”

You freeze, hands still tightly gripping your robe as you feel his eyes rake over your body. You feel both exposed and safe, because once upon a time—Jin was the person that could comfort you the most.

“Yes?” You say in a clipped tone.

You hear him sigh, and you’re about to leave until he interrupts you again.

“How are you?”

You nearly scoff at the mediocre question he poses when the situation between the two of you is anything but. The question seems so out of place when the room is so tense, the ghost of his words here to haunt you both.

“Good.” Is all you respond with before you try to leave.

He grabs you by the elbow, gently, but enough for you to fall against his chest, his arms reaching around to grab you before you fall.

The opening to your robe falls a bit, and his eyes dart away out of respect as you quickly shove it closed with reddened ears.

“What do you want?” You snap.

He winces at your hostility but doesn’t blame you for it.

“I just wanted to catch up with you,” He shrugs.

Now, you scoff. It’s because Jin is still so irrevocably him, that in any other circumstance you’d smile in fondness at his ability to make any situation simple as if there wasn’t history between the two of you.

“Do you now?” You say blandly, “What do you want to know? I’m still Jimin’s baby sister if you were wondering.” You say bitterly.

Jin freezes and sighs when you bring it up; alluding to what he said to you that night years ago.

“Actually … I wanted to apologise,” He confesses.

At that, you still.

Apologise?

Did you need an apology? Wasn’t that what usually fixed conflict?

But no, an apology wasn’t going to fix the years of insecurity that you were left with when he was gone, always nitpicking at your flaws and your identity; wondering if it were really only an extension of your older brother.

Even though you were older, and somewhat more rational—there was still a part of you that wanted to blame Jin for your insecurities, even though you knew that was a war between you and yourself.

“For what? Calling me an extension of my brother or that our friendship was to please Jimin?” You snarl.

He winces and releases the hold he has on your elbow as he rubs his hand across his face.

“I was young and—”

You scoff.

“Young? I thought you were too old back then? Where was this energy ten years ago?”

His eyes narrow at you, and he noticed that you definitely grew a backbone—and a mouth. It was inappropriate still, to think of you any other way right now when he was attempting to apologise to you.

But your beauty was dangerous, and you’ve always been a pretty thing; even when you were growing up. The truth he uttered a decade ago was somewhat the truth still, he felt way too … old to be with you, even if his heart begged for him to keep you close.

“I don’t know why I said the things I did, _____.” He sighs.

You turn around, face contorted with every emotion you’ve been withholding since that fateful night.

“Let me tell you then,” You shove a finger into his chest.

“You’re pathetic,” You spit, hoping to hurt him as much as he’s hurt you.

His eyes widen when you lean in closer.

“You liked me too and you had no fucking clue what to do about it, so you pushed me away the one night I asked for a small favour. You wanted to protect yourself because you’re too in your head thinking that your feelings matter more than anyone else’s, am I right Jin?”

“_______ …”

“Shut up,” You snap.

He does, and he sees the fire in your eyes burn brighter.

“You thought you were the only one that was struggling with their emotions but guesses what—you weren’t,” You whisper, “I was too. And I pushed it aside every moment I spent with you because I knew that it wasn’t my position to decide for you if you liked me or not.”

His hand reaches out to cup your face, something instinctual inside of him told him to do so—wanting to hold you close. To his surprise, you don’t pull away. Your features soften, but you haven’t done your piece just yet.

“But you … you decided for me.” You say softly, “You showed me how much of a piece of shit you were that night.”

Jin’s eyes widen, and the words hurt—but nothing compared to how he felt when you blocked him everywhere, even to go as far to tell Jimin to never mention your name to him.

It sucked for the first two years, but eventually as you went to college and university, you unblocked him. Was it out of spite to let him see how well you were doing? Or the boyfriend that you had?

Maybe.

“_____, I’m sorry.”

Here he was, at thirty-four years old, apologising to you much like a man would—and you can’t help but admire his face when you lean in, heart willing yourself to act rather than your rationale.

“I forgave you a long time ago,” You say.

It seems that you shock him more and more with each second that passes. You weren’t the same girl you were a decade ago, but yet traces of you still lingered in your features, your smile, your voice and your words. It was just you, but older.

“It was for me.” You tell him softly and he nods his head in understanding, cupping your jaw.

“You have no idea how much I regret that night, ______.” He whispers.

You purse your lips.

“What will regret bring you, Jin? A do-over?”

This time he goes silent to observe your face. It’s no longer the same cold stare you’ve been giving him the entire day or the fact that you’ve been ignoring his presence until he found you tucked away in the changing room—a tip-off from Jimin.

“No but … you’re right,” He tells you, “I wanted to protect myself and it was selfish. I can’t change what I said or did but I’m here now and—my heart is still the same.”

“Ten years change people, Jin. I’ve changed and so did you. Maybe you liked the girl I was when I was eighteen but I’m nowhere near in the same mind-space I was back then.” You tell him.

Even though your own heart betrays you by beating rapidly against your chests the closer the holds you, you knew that acting out of your rationale would only end up with you being hurt yet again. You forgave Jin … sure you did. But ten years was far too long to accept the fact he may feel the same.

“I know but I couldn’t forget you, not when I was in university and not when I started working.” He confesses, eyes burning into your own.

You purse your lips and stand your ground. A hand reaches to clasp his, slowly pushing it away from your face as you sigh. You notice the crestfallen expression on his face, but you don’t comment on it.

“I forgave you but that doesn’t mean I forgot what you said to me that night …” You tell him, “I know I was young and that you aren’t responsible for my insecurities but you told me every single thing that I was terrified of.”

His eyes soften but ensuring he kept his distance when you slightly pull away.

“_____—” He sighs.

“No, Jin,” You tell him firmly, “You were the person that mended Jimin and I’s relationship so you knew how much it ruined me to believe that I was nothing but a product of his aspirations. That I had nothing for myself but who my brother was. I struggled so much to find my footing as a teenager and I didn’t even know what I liked and didn’t like it because the lines were so blurred between my own interests and Jimin’s.”

Suddenly, he sees a little glimpse of the girl when you were eighteen peakings through your exterior. You still sounded a little unsure of yourself, words shaking ever so slightly.

“And for the person to tell me that I was more than just Park Jimin’s sister to … to …” You swallow, the words stuck in your throat because as much as forgiving Jin was for him as it was to you, the words still haunt your mind.

“To say that I was just an extension of my brother?” You whisper, “I didn’t know who I was then but I lost who I tried to be when you said that.”

Jin bites his lip, feeling awful. But he knew that he had no right to feel like he was the one that was hurt when his words plagued your mind for years.

“Whatever your feelings are at this moment …” You trail off, clutching your belongings to your chest, ready to leave without another glance, “They’re just your guilt telling you to hold on to something you didn’t get closure with.”

You look over at him once more, a solemn expression on your face.

“This is your closure, Jin.”

You leave without sparing him another glance, and the man stands in the empty changing room feeling a lot different. He thought he’d amended things, but when you leave, it feels as bad as it had been ten years ago.

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 2)

Pairing: JJ x Reader / Topper x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, mild fluff 

Part Summary: After the Labor Day Gala, the Pogues take Y/N back to the Chateau. There, JJ takes the chance to finally talk to her and Y/N starts to show the group that not all Kooks are the same. 

Masterlist

JJ offers you his hand as you climb off of the HMS Pogue. He takes note of how soft your hands are, silently loving how tightly you're squeezing him. It makes him feel needed, but then he starts to wonder why would a girl who has everything possibly need him? You have the world at your feet and he only has loose change in his pockets.

The ride over to The Cut helped your intoxication ease up. You're still not confident enough to drive a car but capable of staying awake and be witty. You and the gang of Pogues approach the chateau, a place unlike anything you’ve ever been to. It’s colorful lights illuminate the yard and fire pit waiting to be used. JJ presses his palm to your back, worried that you may lose your footing, whether it be because of the uneven ground or your state of mind. Kiara leads the way into the house while John B and Pope linger behind, observing as JJ dotes on you. As he arm wraps around your waist slowly but surely, they exchange knowing looks. What JJ might see as progress, you view as a friend of Sarah’s being helpful. It’s not that you don’t find JJ attractive. You’ve noticed him around over a dozen times. You’ve always been friendly, but JJ has been nothing but reserved around you. You just wish you had spoken before tonight, under these circumstances. You figure he must view you as most Pogues do Kooks, as stuck up and spoiled. The screen door leading to the porch squeaks, breaking the silent stroll.

"OBX Princess has probably never been on this side of the island before," Kiara teases playfully as she enters the house to fetch you something to drink.

"I have actually," you state loud enough for Kiara to hear from the kitchen. "There's a little shop I like over here but even then, I will confess, it’s a rarity that I get to see this side of the island.”

“You talk about The Cut like it’s something worth seeing,” Pope jokes.

“Of course it is,” you reply though knowing he was only messing around. “It’s far more natural looking than what we call “nature” on the Figure 8. John B’s yard is more welcoming than the meticulously gardened one at my house,” you giggle lightly as you look around the porch. 

The three boys all exchange quick glances, surprised by your backhanded comment about your half of the island. They would’ve predicted that you’d have nothing bad to say about your well-do neighborhoods considering you’re supposed to be the ultimate Kook.

"Sorry, it's a little messy in here," John B apologizes as he begins to toss things- from bathing suits to cereal boxes- off the couch.

You still linger by the front door with JJ close beside you, watching his best friend fuss. "It's perfectly fine, John B," you assure the boy with a soft smile. "Thank you."

"You never clean up for us," Pope mocks his friend in passing as John B heads inside with his pile of clothes.

"Oh shut up," John B nudges Pope in the shoulder, making him fall back into the armchair. His action only making Pope chuckle harder.

Shyly, you step over to the old couch, taking a seat at the end closest to Pope. JJ rocks on his heels nervously, unsure where to put himself. He wants to sit next to you and place his hand on your leg but he also doesn’t want seem like a total creep. Awkwardly, he determines to lean against the frame of the screened-in-porch. He's thankful that your attention is focused on Kiara as she returns, handing you a water bottle.

"Thanks," you smile, earning a similar expression from the Pogue. She settles down on a folded chair across the coffee table from you, watching as you crack open the bottle lid.

"How are you feeling?" JJ checks as you swallow.

"My heart feels like it's in my throat," you confess, swallowing hard, wondering if that would help. "But the fresh air from the ride helped immensely."  

Pope frowns in the chair just beside you. "How many grams do you think you smoked?"

You shrug, starring off at the coffee table to think. "Couldn't tell you. It felt like I was in that locker room for ages though. I think Rafe buys his joints from a buddy of his from this side of the island," you glance between the three Pogues.

John B pops back out of the house. "Well, I suggest never taking anything from Rafe again," he exhales deeply as he settles down on the spot at the opposite end of the couch from you.

JJ internalizes a scream as he watches his best friend share the couch with you. ‘Look how easy it is you idiot!’ He thinks to himself. ‘All you had to do was sit next to her, it wasn’t like you had to put on a performance or anything!’

"Noted," you nod with a chuckle. Your brows scrunch together as you reach up into your hair. "Geez, this thing hurts," you huff under your breath. You begin to remove all the bobby pins your mom shoved into your hair and place them in your lap. She insisted on you having your hair up to show off the dress she picked out. Your hair begins to fall naturally in strands. Relief already spreads across your head.

JJ's lips part as he watches your perfectly shiny Y/H/C hair fall over your shoulders. If it didn't sound so creepy, he'd ask if you'd need help. He squeezes the wood panel behind him, suppressing his urge to run his fingers through your hair. "If you... uh..." he stammers, capturing your attention.

When your Y/E/C eyes meet his blue ones, it only makes him blush more. His fellow Pogues stare at him with a confused expression. Kiara wonders to herself what he was even trying to say. John B slouches in his seat as he turns his face away from you, begging for his friend to pull himself together.

JJ clears his throat, "if you... uh... want a change of clothes I could grab you something."

You nod, appreciative of his offer. "That would be great, thank you!" You hated this dress and everything required underneath it. You much rather be in shorts and t-shirts all day if you could. There's always been a piece of your that's been envious of the Pogues, it doesn't exactly matter what they wear as long as it's functional. Being a Kook means being done up 24/7.

JJ presses his lips together, giving you a sharp nod before jogging inside to find you something to change into. John B follows behind him, claiming that he's going to grab a case of beer for everyone. He watches as JJ has a quiet but expressive hissy fit all the way down the hall to the guest bedroom.

“Oh my God! Could I be anymore ridiculous!” The boy jumps up and down.

"JJ and Y/N sitting in a tree..." John B sings over his best friend's shoulder.

"Shut up, man," JJ grumbles, shoving his buddy away from him.

John B doesn't leave him alone, following him to his bedroom and standing in the doorway. JJ's room at John B's is utter chaos. He's in and out constantly that it's never been completely put together. All he has is a bed, an old butterfly chair from Kiara, and a chipped dresser. JJ's satisfied with though, as long as he doesn't have to go back to dad's house.

"You haven't stopped starring at her since I picked you guys up," John B snickers, watching his friend dig around his drawer for something clean. "Since when do you let people borrow your stuff?"

JJ stops his actions, pressing his palms down on the dresser. "She's... I don't know..." he struggles to find the right words as he focused down on his ring-covered hands. "I mean, you’re seeing it right? She's not like the other Kooks. I don't why she hangs out with those guys."

"Have you spoken to her before tonight?" John B asks, moving to sit on the end of JJ's bed.

JJ turns, leaning against his dresser with his arms crossed over his chest. "No, but you remember that night at the Boneyard?"

"How could I forget? You wouldn't shut up about her for weeks!" John B teases.

JJ grins, recalling the first time he ever saw you. "I didn't even know her name. Then, I saw her at the Cameron's here and there. I learned her name from Topper of all people. He called for her to join him in the pool. Whenever I was over there, she's smiled and waved at me. Then again, does that with all the workers the Cameron's have over there I guess. She’s just a nice person, treats everyone the same. I kept telling myself that the next time I saw her I'd talk to her... obviously I chickened out each time. Have you talked to her before?"

"Uh yeah, on occasion," John B exhales, trying to recall the times. "The first time I met her after the Boneyard, she and Sarah were tanning on the Cameron's dock while I was cleaning their boat. Topper and Kelce came over and Sarah went to go get them. I accidentally dropped a wet cloth on Y/N while cleaning off the side railings. Any other Kook girl would've had a fit, but Y/N just laughed. I don't know if she would've reacted the same way if Sarah and others were there, but I like to think she would've."

A soft smile appears across JJ's lips, his admiration of you only deepening. He envisions you laying out and the wet rag landing on you. No doubt John B freaked out and rushed out random apologies. You wouldn’t have been pretentious or hostile about the accident, that's not you. A reassuring smile would’ve immediately appeared on your face as you tell him it's alright.

"She tossed me the cloth with the brightest smile," John B continues with a soft snicker, proving JJ’s prediction. "And actually offered to help. Right when she was about to lend me a hand, Rafe and Topper came jogging down the dock. They got all defensive and led Y/N toward the house. It was ridiculous."

"I honestly hate those guys," JJ clenches his jaw.

"Y/N's cool though," John B tells his friend, pushing off his bed to stand up. "One of the most real Kooks I've come across."

"I can't believe I've never talked to her before," JJ huffs, tossing his head back.

"They're untouchable, you know? It's always been us vs. them," his buddy pats him on the shoulder as he heads toward the door.

"Not anymore. I don't care if it's impossible. I have to know her," he states with determination.

"She's here now, use that to your advantage," John B advises.

"Plan on it," JJ mutters to himself as his friend steps out into the hallway.

He had you here, within reach. JJ wasn't going to just let this opportunity pass him by. Topper, Rafe, the guys he hated that constantly have you in their hold aren't anywhere near here. He may never get a chance like this again. JJ's had this overwhelming feeling in his chest since he first saw you last summer. He knows you're meant to be his, not Topper's, not Rafe's, his.

As you and Pope continue your conversation about the history of the island, JJ appears in the doorway. He offers you a neatly folded stack of clothes ranging from an old AC/DC t-shirt that he stole from his dad to some old shorts of his that no longer fit. The Pogues wonder how long it took him to perfectly fold everything together. Your hands glide over his during the exchange and he ponders the sensation of your skin against his.

'You're so warm,' he thinks to himself.

"Thanks again, you have no idea how uncomfortable strapless bras can be!" You giggle as your rise to your feet to go change.

"The actual worst," Kiara agrees dramatically as she stands from her seated position. "Hey, I'm gonna come with you, I left my change of clothes in the bathroom!"

"Awesome!" You grin, following the girl inside.

Once you and Kiara have disappeared JJ plops on the couch next to where you would've been. He rests his elbows on his knees and hides his face in his hands. “Jesus and all that is good!" He yells, muffling the noise into his palms.

"What?" Pope laughs at his friend's expense. "Hoping she'd ask you to help undress her? 'Oh JJ, you're so sweet!' 'JJ, brush my hair!'” Pope mocks in a high-pitched voice.

“‘JJ, I loovvee you'," John B adds to the mix, pretending to pucker his lips at his friend.

"I think I'd actually go for a dive in the swamp if she asked me too," JJ concludes, coming to terms with how bad he has it.

"Just tell her! Put yourself out of this misery," Pope advises, earning a laugh from John B.

"It's not that easy," JJ groans, resting his head on the back of the couch.

"Why not?" John B presses.

"Because I don't wanna scare her off!" JJ snaps.

John B hosts a reality check for his friend. “Dude, you and almost every guy in the OBX are pleading for Y/N’s attention, including Topper and Rafe! You’ve seen how close Topper is to her, that’s what you’re competing with,” he reminds, making JJ’s heart sink. “Pull yourself together and impress her!”

“Be yourself of course,” Pope adds, ever the level headed mind. “But yeah you really need to step up your game. You’re sinking like the Titanic,” Pope mocks.

“It’s painful to watch,” John B adds with a laugh.

JJ exhales deeply, taking in his friends advice. How could he possibly compete with boys from the Figure 8. They’re your closest friends and have so much more to offer you. What you have with Topper is what JJ wants with you. Now he’s stuck wondering how he’s going to get it.

_______________________________________________________

After you finish changing, you find everyone outside. JJ swings in the hammock while Kiara and Pope sit on a log by the firepit talking. You approach the pair, feeling much better in JJ’s clothes.

"So, what did I miss?" You ask, clasping your hands together.

JJ didn't hear you coming, so when he glances in your direction and sees you in his clothes for the first time, he feels as though his head just exploded. His shorts are nowhere to be seen underneath the t-shirt that lands just above your knees. The collar is so worn that it nearly hangs off your shoulder, completely bare. Your loosely curled hair rests tucked over your one shoulder. He sits up to get a better look at you and nearly loses his balance in the hammock. The object rocks to the side and JJ curses loudly, catching himself from almost falling out. When he looks up, you and his fellow Pogues are staring at him, suppressing your amusement.

"Anyway...." Kiara breaks the silence and answers your question. "We were just about to start a fire. I actually promised Pope I'd help him find sticks-" she explains, rising from her seated position. "-He's afraid of going into the woods by himself," she adds in a whisper as she passes by you.

You giggle. “Anything I can do to help?" You offer.

"Nah, John B is looking for the lighter and more beer, so I think we're all good," Pope sighs and gives your arm a gentle squeeze. "Rest!"

As the pair disappear into the woods, you turn your head in JJ's direction. Right as he sees you turn, he falls back onto the hammock, pretending to have not been paying attention. You approach the blonde boy with a charming smile. JJ feels his heart skip with each shift of gaffle beneath your feet.

You stand over him, hands interlocked in front of you. "Can I join you?"

"What-" JJ's mind goes blank, forgetting how to speak English for a second. "Oh! Yeah! Yeah!" He rushes out, sliding over to the far side of the hammock to make room.

You lay down beside him, your body pressing against his. JJ finds it hard to breathe with you so close. You simply stare up at the stars. They're not as visible on the other side of the island with everyone's mansions blasting out so much light pollution. Your hand brushes against JJ's and he holds a ruthless internal battle. Does he hold your hand? Does he not hold your hand? What if you don't want him to hold your hand? But what if you do want him to?

"So, when you're not making drinks for Kooks, what do you like to do in your free time?" You ask the boy, not realizing that he's losing his mind.

JJ remembers what Pope and John B said, he has to pull himself together. He swallows hard, trying his hard to speak to you without stuttering like before. "Surfing mainly, hanging out with my friends, taking the boat out," he lists fluently, internally patting himself on the back. "What about you?"

"I love to travel, swim and go sailing," you name and there's a pause between you two.

JJ longs to hear more, but your mind begins to wonder as you stare up at the stars. JJ turns his head to the side, admiring how the glow of the Christmas lights in the trees shimmer against your tanned skin.

"Sometimes I'll be on my parent's boat by myself, and it takes every bit of me not to sail away," you mutter quietly, distant-mindedly. "It doesn't matter the destination. I find myself looking out to the horizon and dreaming of sailing out forever. I don't even think I'd look back..." When JJ shifts, you embarrassingly comprehend how much you rambled on. "Sorry, that just got really deep."

On impulse, JJ places his hand over your's giving it a slight squeeze. "No, no, I liked it! Tell me more?"

Your eyes flicker down to his hand resting over yours on your thigh. JJ hadn't even realized what he had done until he followed your gaze. He prepares to move it, but then you begin to flip your hand over, allowing your fingers to interlock. A rush of electricity rushes up JJ's arm from your hand. A wave of peace consumes him, something he hasn't felt in... well... forever. JJ watches as your eyes glide up and meet his own, the ones that made you awestruck on the boat ride here.

"What would you like to know?" You whisper into the small space between you two.

He shrugs, starting to feel relaxed around you and not a total spaz. "What else do you like? What's your favorite song? Movie? Show?" He lists one after the next.

You giggle at his enthusiasm, earning a grin from the boy. "Um okay..." you lick your lips, deep in thought, not noticing how the action made JJ swoon. "Well, that's kinda a hard one because I can't really select just one movie or song or show. What about you?"

He raises his brows, not having expected to answer himself. "I like The Beach Boys, Rusted Root, The Animals, Simon & Garfunkel-"

"Ah, Mrs. Robinson," you name with a smirk.

"You know them?" JJ looks surprised.

You laugh, kind of offended. "Do you think the Figure 8 is under the water like Atlantis or something?" You joke as your eyes fall shut with laughter.

JJ grins, glad to see you coming down from the events of earlier tonight. He was really worried for a while there. "I like your laugh," he mumbles before he has the chance to stop himself.

Taken aback, you turn to attention back to him. His eyes pour into yours with such admiration that it nearly makes you lose your breath. "I like your smile... when you show it," you add at the end with a smirk.

"I smile!" JJ pops himself up on his elbows, smiling with amazement at your remark.

"I think I may have seen it one time ever and that was earlier tonight," you describe with a giggle. "I always smile and wave at you whenever I see you with John B at Sarah's and you just ignore me. If you didn't help me tonight, I would've thought you hated me," you admit shyly.

JJ's face falters. He never realized that his shyness could make you think he ever hated you. If he wasn't kicking himself before, he surely is now. As you avoid his gaze, he lays back down beside you. Your eyes remain up toward the starry sky, too embarrassed to look at him.

Turning onto his side, JJ reaches out and tucks his fingers under your chin to make you meet his gaze. You do so, seeing his blue eyes starring into yours with a glimmer of guilt. "I don't hate you, Y/N... that would be... impossible," he whispers.

His words make your chest sink, but not with dread, with longing. How is it that this is the most you and JJ have ever spoken to each other? When you're with him it feels so normal, natural even. "Well good, I'm glad," you reply, feeling your cheeks warm up.

JJ leans forward, closing the space between you two even more. His brows scrunch together and his hand glides across your cheekbone. "You care about what I think of you?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" You wonder. You cared about what everyone thought of you, as every teenage girl does. Yet, for some reason, you care most about what JJ thinks. You suppose because of the circumstances of how you met. You'd hate for him to judge you or make assumptions because of a bad night.

"I'm just some Pogue," he shrugs, dismissing himself as nothing. "And you're..." he swallows hard, his eyes falling from your eyes to your lips.

"I'm what?" You press further, eager to hear what he has to say.

"The Princess of the OBX," he recites your nickname across the island.

You roll your eyes, focusing your eyes back toward the sky. "That name is so superfluous." You hated being called that. It made you feel like you were constantly on display, for everyone to gaw at, or worst, ridicule. Plus, it was Sarah's title first. It feels like you're always being compared to her, especially when you're out in public with Topper.  

"I don't know what that means but I bet it is," JJ snickers.

You giggle lightly at his confession. You appreciate his quickness to agree, despite not knowing what he's agreeing with exactly. Growing more confident as he talks with you, JJ gains the courage to reach up and brush strands of your hair away from your face. Subconsciously, you lean into his touch, your lips brushing against his palm.

"I like your hair. It's so shiny and soft," he compliments softly.

Your eyes flicker in his direction as you turn your head into his hand. "I like your eyes. I like how blue they are, they're the bluest eyes I've ever seen. They remind me of soft blue sea glass." They're intoxicating to you. If weren't so shy around JJ, you'd be staring at him every second.

"I like how nice you are, even to those you don't have to be," JJ names next.

"I like how generous you are, even to a Kook like me," you continue the exchange of compliments with a self-deprecated snicker.

"No, don't say that," JJ shakes his head repeatedly, disapproving of your remark against yourself. When you roll your eyes, dismissing his words, he slips his other hand from yours and brings it to your face too. "I like you!" He confesses, much to your surprise and his own. "...Even if you are a Kook," he adds jokingly under his breath.

Your heart races as your chest rise and fall rapidly. JJ's eyes flicker about your face, anticipating some sort of reaction. Even if it's a rejection, he needs to know what you're thinking for his sanity.

"I like you too," you lick your lips nervously. "Even if you are a Pogue," you smirk.

JJ chuckles softly at your play on his words and is in disbelief that this is happening. For a year he's been so obsessed with you and one night has opened you up to him. He's afraid that he'll wake up soon and it was all a dream.

JJ props himself up on his elbow again, bringing his other hand down your cheek to glide around the side of your neck. "I'd like to kiss you," he mutters a matter-of-factly, his eyes locked on your lips.

Gently, you bring your fingertips to his hairline, brushing his disheveled blonde locks away from his face. "I'd like that too."

Goosebumps course over your skin before JJ even brushes his lips against yours. The anticipation is enough to drive you wild. Despite wanting this moment since forever, JJ is hesitant to make a move. Slowly, he brings his face closer to yours, hovering mere centimeters from your lips. With hooded eyes, your focus remains on his lips, eager to feel them against your own. After reminding himself of how much he wants this, JJ swiftly presses his lips against yours. They're as soft as silk and taste of spearmint. Your fingers slip through his hair to the back of his head and your gather the strands into a fist, deepening the kiss. JJ releases a deep moan at the action. Needing more, he moves to hover over you. As his legs become intertwined with yours, he glides his free hand down your side to grip your waist. You bring your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him down closer to you. You feel as though you'll never be fully satisfied. His touch is like a drug to you.

"We got the sticks!" Kiara shouts as she and Pope emerge from the woods, startling you both.

"Got the beer!" John B announces he steps off the porch.

JJ breaks the kiss, flying up from his position too quickly. He loses his balance on the swinging hammock and sways to the side. "Oh fuck, here I go!" He swears, rushing to catch himself on the ground.

You yelp as JJ falls off the hammock onto the dirt beneath you. Followed by a thud, you lift yourself up, peeking over the edge of the swinging object. "JJ! You okay?!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," he groans, his eyes squeezed shut as he catches his breath. "But I think my leg went the wrong way there for a second."

Kiara and Pope are oblivious to what just happened to their friend as they start up the music and fire. You slide off the hammock and land on your feet. "Here, take my hands!" You offer the hurt boy as he continues to exhale shakily.

"I don't think-" Before JJ can finish, he's flying up off the ground with a good yank on the arms from you. "Damn, Kook! You're strong," he compliments, making your heart race. Grinning ear to ear, he presses his palm to your lower back and pulls you into him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You check again, worry woven in your tone and on your face.

"Absolutely Baby," he nods, leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead.

"Come on guys!" Pope calls over to you, tossing sticks into the pit. He does a double-take, processing that he just saw JJ leaning down and giving you a kiss. "Did you guys see what I just did?"

"Yep," John B rushes out as he clears his throat awkwardly.

"A thousand percent," Kiara confirms, pretending as though she didn't.

"And here it goes!" John B exhales deeply to his fellow Pogues. Despite being happy that his best friend finally has his girl, he and the rest of the Pogues are well aware that a pairing like this comes with severe consequences. 

_________________________________

Masterlist

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