#but eh these are from a year ago and turned out well

[thecrenellations]

The moment in Nirvana in Fire, episode 49

☠️🍶🔥

[gfmima]

category : 米哈游 原神 work title : another woman claims to be his girlfriend?

with a subtle bow of your head, you raise the teacup to your awaiting lips, a veil of porcelain disguising the laughter that threatened to escape. how absurd… you muse, as you savor a sip of your tea.

far across — two tables away, there sits one of the new acts of lyney and lynette’s show. she was interesting, to say the least. she sings tall tales with intricate detail, weaving major falsehoods about the nature of her relationship with him.

her words describe his love confession, demanding they be together because he couldn’t bear a day without her. she didn’t fail to mention how his sister adores her and refers to her as ‘my future sister-in-law.’

the outlandish narrative lasts with an overt nudge about his frequent visits to her dressing room after every show, which you tune out due to its unsavory implications.

most women would have risen from their seats, confronting her for spewing fantasies about their lover; not you, though. instead, you stay rooted in your place, your curiosity piqued for what else she might spin.

you were engrossed, and if you were to be fully honest, you would’ve readily admit to the guilty pleasure of eavesdropping on the mundane conversations of strangers. your penchant for gossip was shared with your lover, turning it into an unusual pastime. it was a fun exchange of information over cups of coffee or tea, normally ending with one of you left scandalized by what was said. archons, were you excited to tell him about what you overhead…

“do you swear not to say a word about this to another living soul?” her voice hushed to a near whisper, but it still carries to those within earshot.

“of course! right, ladies?” one of the women quips, with the other two chiming in agreement, creating a chorus of “yes!” and “we’ll keep quiet!”

“if you say so…” she takes a deep breath, as if the weight of her revelation was a heavy burden about to be lifted. “lyney and i are dating…” her shoulders then turn slack, exhibiting the instant wave of relief that washes over her.

you couldn’t help it; a snort of amusement passes your lips. it earned you a few disapproving glances from the nearby patrons, chastising your lack of propriety in a public setting.

she embarks on an exhausting tangent, yakking on the long months she had to weather before she could have confided in her dear friends about her supposed private affair.

she emphasized how lyney insisted on maintaining it under wraps for over a year — eh, wrong! the twins met her for the first time five months ago — out of his desire to protect her from the clutches of obsessed fans and admirers.

the longer she spoke, the closer her stories cross into more ridiculous territory. at one point, she spun a yarn about his grandiose profession of love for their anniversary, including dedicating an entire routine inspired by her.

however, what left you scratching your head was the lack of skepticism from her friends. a quick read of her body language would’ve shone a light at her deception. it had you questioning whether you had somehow gone mad or if they were genuinely as dim-witted as they seemed.

“i knew it! no wonder you’ve been smiling a lot  lately!”

“ah, i’m so jealous~! sigh, he’s such a handsome man.”

“so romantic… i wish that was me!”

assessing the present circumstances, one might figure you would now reveal all of her lies. you didn’t. rather, you found yourself more inclined to watch and observe how this fiasco will play out.

you trust lyney, enough to know he loves you and wouldn’t pursue another woman behind your back, especially a woman he and his sister worked with. it allowed you to cast aside your initial worries about her and her interest in him. regardless of your opinion, she did her job well, even though you secretly wished she wasn’t so uncomfortably obsessed with him — a notion she made no effort to hide.

clearly, given what you were witnessing.

“oh, look, ladies! here he comes!” one of their voices pierces the air, overtly eager to see the ‘happy couple’ they were led to believe. conversely, lyney’s self-proclaimed lover appears to be positively distraught.

the man in question enters cafe lucerne, his gaze firmly laid on you. he shows little to no mind towards the group of women who shadow his every move. he walks by and greets you with a kiss on the cheek, taking the vacant chair in front of you.

“and how was your day, ma belle?” he removes his hat then runs his fingers through his hair — a simple gesture that left you swooning.

his charming demeanor momentarily distracts you from the comedic disaster unfolding in the background.

it was a tumultuous stir of “huh… who’s that?” and “gasp, is he cheating on you?” while the two of you converse in mindless chatter. one second, he was recounting his chores for the day; and the next, three indignant women loom over him whereas the source of this mayhem cowers in the back.

“ugh, the audacity to have a mistress and meet her in broad daylight! you have no shame!”

he glances from you to them, genuine bewilderment etched upon his face. “i beg your pardon?”

“oh, don’t play dumb! you know exactly what you’re doing!” another of the women upturns her nose at him.

witnessing the heated back-and-forth, it was remarkable to find that even arouet was invested in the drama.

it transforms into a three-versus-one impasse, but you were impressed by how gracefully he navigated through their baseless accusations. the culmination of the situation came when recognized his ‘lover’ and didn’t hesitate to call her by name, pressing answers for the lies she’d been spreading to her friends.

“i think you’ve all been misled, the only woman i’m seeing is this lovely one right here.” he turns then directs the gentlest of smiles at you.

unable to resist the itch, you finally laugh at the sudden turn of events. karma was indeed on the prowl, and to be a bystander for the incoming argument after she made a fool out of her friends, just to feed her delusion, was gratifying… for one of you, at least.

“care to tell me what just happened?” lyney tuts, his fingers extending across the table to grasp your hand in his, urging to draw your focus on him.

“later,” you mutter, absorbed by the evolving spectacle. it’s obvious you both will spend the whole evening discussing this…

from the very start, you weren’t one to rejoice in having any eyes on you. it was natural your bond with the one and only wanderer flourished discreetly.

this change in your life required no announcement. it wasn’t information that demanded broadcasting to the world; it could exist on its own if someone were to ask, you’d directly confirm the status of your relationship. otherwise, you find it irrelevant to insert this in areas where it held no relevance.

in the comfort of your solitude, you thrive, cocooned from nosy onlookers. your happiness, his happiness — these two were what truly mattered to you.

as time flowed by, your connection deepened, evolving into a union that grew stronger with each passing moment you shared. it was a sensation both of you held dear, a genuine and keen emotion that, if you dare to admit, could be called ‘love.’

of course, you weren’t ignorant to assume that your journey would be obstacle-free. beyond his undeniable intellect and esteemed role as the assistant and confidant of the dendro archon, he also began to draw attention for his otherworldly beauty.

you were aware that you might coming across his admirers one day. after all, you weren’t oblivious to the wistful glances sent his way by other women, nor the coy attempts at flirtation. still, you hadn’t taken into account the unusual lengths some individuals would go to win even a sliver of his time and attention.

it was painful to watch their efforts be met with a scoff or a withering frown. on a good day, they might receive nothing more than a mocking, “what do you want now?” from him.

on a sun-drenched afternoon, you find yourself perched on the steps leading to the sanctuary of surasthana whilst you await his return from his meeting with lesser lord kusanali.

yet, the tranquility of the sacred place was soon interrupted by an unexpected revelation — you weren’t alone. a trio of researchers positioned themselves near the entrance, their presence blends into the revered location, evoking no more notice than the everyday sights that surround you.

the sunlight dances upon your skin as you, absentmindedly, fiddle with your bracelet, a habit that had taken root over the years. the food container you had brought stays on your lap, and you can feel its warmth gradually dissipate. a frown on your face as you whisper a plea that he arrives before the snacks you prepared grew cold.

your gaze strays and locks onto one of the women standing nearby. suspicion dripped from her eyes, it lingers far longer than you liked. at first, you considered it a peculiar coincidence — perhaps she mistook you for someone else she knew?

unable to contain her curiosity, she approaches you with an air of authority, disregarding her friends’ endeavors to stop her from creating a scene.

“state your business,” she dictates, her tone icy.

you stand unwavering, refusing to yield an inch in the face of her bid to intimidate you. “if you must know, i’m here for wanderer.”

your words invoke a profound reaction within her, it coursed through her like an attack. “well, save your breath and don’t waste your time bothering him.”

“why not? who even are you to tell me what i should do and shouldn’t do?” your cadence steady and colder than hers, a testament to the time you spent with your dear wanderer — it seems to be paying off.

you expected her to either insult you or begin a monologue about her superiority as a researcher, but her reply took you by surprise.

“i’m his lover, duh! i don’t appreciate you flirting with him.” then, in a single motion, she confiscates the container from your grasp.

glances were exchanged amongst her peers, who advance to mediate the interaction. one of them pulls her away and positions himself between you. “i’m sorry for her behavior, miss. her sleep deprivation has her spouting nonsense.”

“i am not! there are clear signs he feels the same way. we’re dating; he’s just very reserved about his emotions.”

before it can escalate further, a familiar voice slices through the tension like a blade. “where have you been?” he chides, as he descends the steps.

beneath his hat, you spy the glaring discontent he directs at these strangers for taking your time away from him.

when your eyes locks, his gaze softens. the sour expression dissolves and was replaced by a flicker of warmth. you offer a reassuring smile in his direction, a gesture that noticeably eases his mind.

he was a stride away from you when she, flaunting a smirk, stops in front of him. you lay a hand over your lips to quash your laughter after spotting the look of disgust he tosses at her.

“wanderer, honey!” she tries to touch his arm but fails when he sidesteps her. “don’t worry, i already handled this pest to lessen the burden for y—”

“who are you?” he sneers, and the haughty look on her face instantly disappears. she attempts to stutter a response, an effort to remind her title as his lover, but his menacing gaze he wore silences her.

“moreso, who are you to advise my wife what to do?”

eh? his wife?

“your wife?!” her friends turn pale, realization dawning upon them. they shiver at the thought of unintentionally crossing him, all thanks to her behavior.

“i-i just thought…”

“well, you thought wrong; know your place.” in a last display of irritation, he shoots them a cutting glare. then, he seizes the food container from her grip, his fingers then intertwine with yours as he guides you away from them.

as you walk away hand-in-hand, you cast a quick glance at her and stick your tongue out to mock her.

“i saw that,” he snickers and tugs you along, nearly causing you to stumble, “and you say i’m mean.”

“don’t get all smart, you called me your wife earlier.”

“shut up! it was meant to end the conversation early.”

[haveihitanerve]

Four Times the Batkids Forget They're Adopted, and The One Time Damian Forgets He Isn't

It had started off as a joke, as most things do, and Dick meant nothing behind it, really. It was amusing to him, actually, to tell his coworkers things about Batman and pass it off as his father. “Oh my dad? Yeah hes not big on talking. He loves showing me he cares though.” (this was, of course, in reference to Batman doing three back flips and a kick split when Nightwing had patrolled with him the other day, a classic Nightwing move) But it soon…went deeper. Dick stopped making jokes out of it, and actually began listing things about Bruce. About his Dad. It didn't help that his police friends were actually interested. “So did you and the old man do anything fun over the weekend?” Dick thought back to how he had wanted to surprise Bruce by stopping by for dinner and instead had ended up in the sewer eating granola bars on a stakeout for killer croc, who had escaped. Again. “Oh yeah we had a picnic.” Dick nodded, smiling at Randy. “Yeah. He’s, he’s kinda bad at remembering when to eat a meal on time and all that.” Dick laughed. “Its something I share too. Must be genetics.” He rolled his eyes. Randy laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I hear you. My old man smoked all the live long day. I try to keep it down, but that addiction gene is just strong eh?” Dick chuckled. “Yeah I guess.” His phone buzzed in his pocket and he waved to Randy, turning to tug it out. It was one, simple message from Babs. “Ur adopted genius. What genes.” 

Jason didn't even know how they had gotten on the topic. But here they were. “Yes. I got my mothers hair, of course, but I get my temper from my father.” Artemis was saying. “I have parents.” Bizarro grunted. Roy laughed, smacking him on the shoulder. “Well you certainly didn't get Kal’s looks buddy. But you do have his killer hair.” Starfire laughed. “That is true. I, for one, share my parents hair and have my fathers powers. But truly the best gene I was given were my mothers eyes.” They all turned to Jason. “What about you?” Roy asked. Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, I used to have my dads eyes but um after the pit y'know,” He waved to his now green eyes. “And actually I have my dads dark black hair, and he’s graying early too, which might be why my white streak is so prominent.” They nodded in agreement. “But yeah, hes actually a little taller than me so maybe I’ll still grow a few inches but uh yeah. I don't… remember my mother enough to talk about her.” “Dang man. I wish we could meet your dad.” Roy murmured, laying a comforting hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Then we could really compare. I mean-” He laughed. “You sound like his carbon copy.” Jason frowned at his friend. “What do you mean? You’ve met Bruce?” They stared at him. “Jason,” Artemis began slowly. “Aren't you adopted?” 

Tim hunched over the information form, eyes straining to read the small print. His hand reached up to stifle a yawn and he settled for a sigh instead. It was late, but Tim needed to get the form done before he went to bed, otherwise everything would be far too stressful in the morning. He reached over and grabbed his coffee mug, a dark black cup that had a red R painted on it poorly. Bruce had made it for him a few years ago when he had first become Red Robin. He sipped it, staring down at the medical form. “Gods I hate having to do this.” He muttered, but reluctantly grabbed the thick medical binder Alfred had obligingly gotten for him when he had asked for medical records of the family. Tim did not under any circumstances, want to have to sit at the doctors office the next day and somehow lie his way through all the medical questions relating to his family history. He didn't have the time nor patience for it, and it was crucial he was given proper medical advice what with his missing spleen. “Any history of heart issues Bruce?” Tim muttered, flipping back past Martha and Thomas to Bruce’s great great great grandfather. “Nope, guess not.” Tim was halfway through the form when he realized the blood coursing through his veins wasn't Bruce’s. 

Steph rubbed a hand across her belly, staring at the monitor. “Your baby looks good Ms. Brown. They’re at the proper stage. Due in about two months. We’ll see you back here for your next check up.” “thank you doctor.” Steph murmured, sliding off the bed and dressing quickly before hurrying out to her car. The car door slammed shut behind her and she breathed, pressing her forehead to the steering wheel. Her phone buzzed. She lifted it and pressed it to her ear, hitting accept. “Hello?” “hey Steph.” Bruce’s voice vibrated through the phone. “How was your doctors appointment?” Steph gave a bitter laugh. “Everything looks good. The baby will come in about two months.” “Thats good. Thats real good.” Steph nodded, eyes closed. “You doing okay Stephanie?” Bruce asked, voice soft. “I don't know.” her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting tears. “I just- I’m so scared Bruce. So scared.” Bruce hummed comfortingly through the phone. “I know Steph. Its scary. And parenting, its hard.” Steph coughed out a watery chuckle. “Was that a hit?” She muttered, rubbing a hand over her face. Bruce chuckled. “No. Baby it wasn't. And just think, you’ll get to see all the firsts I didn't get with you. Their first steps. Their first wave. You might even get to hear them say mama before i kidnap- i mean adopt him or her.” Steph laughed again, and it sounded less watery. “Yeah. Well, when do kids start walking?” She asked in interest, sniffing and sitting up straight again. Bruce hummed. “Well i started walking almost immediately, but Im special.” Steph laughed. “Of course.” “alfred said i first started talking when I was around thirteen months old, and Talia said Damian was walking by ten, but she could have been lying.” Steph nodded. “Tell me more.” She whispered. Bruce obliged, happy to distract her. “Oh and whats probably going to be your favorite, babies, or at least I did, start laughing at around four months.” “laughing?” Steph gasped. “Oh Brucie!!! Thats too funny! Little chubby baby you, the future batman, laughing!” She cooed. She could almost feel his eye roll through the phone and stifled her laugh. “So yeah..” Bruce finished. “You should expect your kiddo to start walking around then. And laughing probably sooner. I would have if you'd be in my life at that time.” Steph was quiet. “Thank you B.” He hummed. “Anytime Steph. I’ll always be here to help you.” “Wait wait wait-” a new voice joined in the background of Bruce. “Are you guys serious right now?” Steph identified it as Jason. “What?” Bruce asked puzzled. “B, Stephs adopted. Her kid is as likely to walk at the same time you did as when she did!” 

“Damian?” “Go away Drake.” Damian called back, riffling through the papers. “Dami?” Tim poked his head into his younger brothers room. “Oh hey kiddo. Whatcha doing?” “I am busy Timothy.” Damian countered in annoyance, shoving the box back under his bed and moving to his desk. “What are you looking for?” Tim asked puzzled. Damian ignored him. “Dami.” “Go away Timothy.” Tim crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Come on Baby Bird. Tell me.” Damian shook his head, covering the blush on his cheeks by poking behind the desk. “Damian.” Tim’s hand was suddenly on his back. Damian jumped. Tim held up his hands in surrender. “Just tell me. I’m sure I can help you find it.” Damian sighed in acceptance, cheeks pink. “I have.. Lost my adoption papers.” He muttered, staring at the floor. But Tim didn't laugh or ridicule him. In fact, when he looked up, his brother seemed thoughtful. “Well i know me and dick and jason have them hung over our beds…” His gaze drifted to the very clearly empty space above Damians bed. “I know.” Damian jerked his head in a nod. “That is why I wished to find it.” Tim nodded in understanding. “Well, lets go look in the den. Thats where Alfred keeps all the legal stuff.” Damian trailed after his brother to the living room and watched as he opened the cabinet and pulled out three boxes. “You look through this one, I’ll search these two.” Tim ordered. Damian nodded, accepting the box. It was where Alfred found them, two hours later, broom in hand. “My dear sirs, what are you doing?” The butler asked in bafflement. “Looking for Damians adoption record.” Tim answered, nose still in some papers. Alfred looked at them. “Master Tim. Master Damian.” The two boys looked up. “Yes Alfred?” Tim asked. Alfred's face was fond and utterly confused. “Master Damian is not adopted. He is Master Bruce’s blood son.” 

@nonepizzawithleftglitter @zombiewithaflowercrown

you asked and you shall recieve!

[endzithefangirl]

"I'm gong to put 'being a WAG' on my CV"

Authors note: Here's a little Max Verstappen x TechCEO!Reader. Bet you didn't see that comng. Anyway, got the idea for this a few days ago, and I guess my love of Italian food made me finish this

Summary: Max's new relatioship causes a social media stir, but the new couple couldn't care less whilst in Italy.

Warnings: English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, female reader, famous reader

Word count: 2k

You understood it, to a degree. Max had just broken off a three-year-long relationship right before summer break, and now suddenly he was spending the summer with you. Now you’re at the paddock... No wonder people thought there was some crossover.

The truth? You two met last New Year's at a party for some sporting event. You, being one of the sponsors for your country's national sports committee, were invited, and Max... well, Max was Max Verstappen. You hit it off, exchanged numbers, showed him around your company a few times, and took him to all of your favorite restaurants in NYC. But you knew he had a girlfriend; everyone knew. And he was taking care of her kid too.

That breakup was hard on him. He had stopped loving her, but he couldn't just kick a woman and her kid out of his house. Max waited for them to have a huge fight, and then they just... broke up. And to your surprise, he was in New York the next day, saying that he needed someone to talk to. Bullshit. You knew he liked you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come all the way here 'just to talk.'

But here you were, in Italy, spending time with him before Monza. You were currently typing away on your phone, trying to make peace in the finance department. Max glanced up from his phone every so often, stealing peeks at you while grinning.

He had never quite been so into someone like you. You were smart, funny, talented, pretty, and on top of all that - you were also rich. But you were also the most challenging girl to flirt with Max had ever met.

"You look like you could use a break," he said, after watching you tap away at your work laptop for a few minutes.

"Probably. What's the point of having interns if they don't do anything?"

"Then you should consider hiring me; I'm pretty good at helping out," Max teased, looking up from his phone and sending you a cheeky smile. He loved a woman who was in power, who knew what she was doing, and he could tell you were used to being the boss. "Come on, take a break. You know you deserve it," Max encouraged, resting his hand on top of yours to stop you from working some more.

"I guess I could eat…" You say, closing your laptop. "I saw on Google Maps that there’s a nice pizza place down the road. We can go if you’re hungry.”

Max smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m starving; let’s go,” he said, reaching for the car keys.

“No, it’s okay, let’s walk,” you stop him. He turned towards you, slightly confused. Usually, women would give anything to drive around with Max Verstappen. Maybe that’s just what makes you special.

The two of you walked out of the hotel, your bodyguard Lenny standing outside the door. The tall, muscular man just nodded as the two of you entered the elevator. Max found it funny that you preferred Lenny guard your stuff more than you. Especially the laptop. He sometimes wondered what you kept in there...

“Is Pierre gonna be at the race?” you asked as you exited the building, breaking the silence.

Max’s head snapped towards you, and he raised his brow. “Uh, yes, of course he is… Why?”

“Because I want to see Kika.”

“Oh, so she’s your secret F1 crush, eh?” Max said, relaxing.

You laughed. “Pierre is a solid seven with a better haircut. Kika is a twelve on a bad day.”

As you got to the bigger streets, you started to understand why Max drove everywhere. Unlike you, who were a chiller and niche celebrity, despite being incredibly rich, Max was a real superstar. Your short walk to the pizza shop became a fan meet and greet, with people coming up to you every three seconds and asking for photos.

“Is this your girlfriend?” one of the people asking for a picture asked. As you finished taking the photo, you noticed Max’s slightly flustered face as he heard the question. He stumbled, but you answered with a simple “Yeah.”

As you arrived at the restaurant, you noticed that Max was staring at you. He seemed… surprised. You laughed at his facial expression. The sound of your laugh calmed him instantly, his heartbeat beginning to return to normal. Max cursed himself in his head; he was better than this. He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Is it something I said?"

Max ran a hand through his hair, feeling his cheeks heating up slightly. "No, no... Not really," he reassured you, trying to sound casual. "I was just... thinking."

"Okay, well I'm thinking about the food. I think a Vesuvius sounds great right now."

Max chuckled and quickly glanced down at the menu to hide his embarrassment. "Vesuvius? What the hell is a Vesuvius?" he asked, though his eyes scanned down the menu, searching for it.

"It's a type of pizza," you teased. "It's been like three minutes; have you not even skimmed the menu?"

Max fidgeted under your gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks again. "What?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You tell me. Why are you staring?" Max shook his head, glancing up at you questioningly. He had no idea what you were thinking about. "No... What are you thinking about?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"There are pots from 4000 years ago found in ancient Egypt that are made out of an incredibly difficult to manage material and are cut to such perfection that they balance on their round bottom."

Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was expecting something totally different. Something that had at least a little bit to do with him. He chuckled, still somewhat surprised as he studied your face. "Where did that come from?" he asked incredulously.

"The Egyptians. They were like, cooking pots and stuff. Royal cooking pots probably, but still," you teased.

Max chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're thinking about cooking pots, and here I am, just trying to figure out what I did to make you say that we're together so casually."

"What do you mean? Are we not together?"

"Well, of course we're together," Max said, his voice taking on a more serious tone now. He glanced around the restaurant briefly, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. "I just... I didn't expect you to say it so casually," he said, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know we were keeping it a secret. I mean, I was at the paddock and all last time, and I took days off work to come to this race—"

Max shook his head, realizing you completely misunderstood what he was saying. "No, no, it's not that... I just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. He took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting in his lap. "It's just... you're so casual about it... and I'm... a bit too flustered for my own good," he admitted, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.

You softened up a bit. "Oh, okay, I get it. It was just a bit too shocking for you... Yeah, sorry."

Max felt his heartbeat a little faster when you softened, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, it was a bit... unexpected for me," he chuckled, feeling somewhat silly for being so flustered. "But it's fine, honestly."

"Do you think my stomach is gonna have space for gelato later? There's a really good gelateria; I can see it from the window... They make the ones with the macarons..."

Max chuckled, loving how you were so excited about the gelato. "Well, based on the amount of pizza you usually eat," he teased, a smirk on his face. "I'd say you're probably fine."

"No, they put the macarons on the gelato."

"On the gelato?" Max repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"I've never heard of such a thing," he said, leaning forward to get a better look out the window at the gelateria you were talking about. "Well, in that case," he said with a grin, "we're definitely going there for dessert."

After eating so much that your belts barely held, you came back to the hotel, Lenny greeting you at the door as usual. Max's stomach was stuffed to the brim, but he was in such a good mood from the good food and even better company, he didn't even care. He walked back into the hotel together with you, his hand still holding yours. Lenny greeted the two of you as usual, but Max couldn't help but notice the way Lenny looked at you, like he was analyzing you.

"All good, Len. You go to your room for the night," you said to Lenny. He nodded, smiled at the both of you, and then went off. Max watched as Lenny walked off, then turned to you, a small frown on his face.

"He was looking at you funny," he said, a protective edge to his voice.

"He thinks it's funny. That I'm dating a Formula 1 driver."

"What's so funny about that?" he protested, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "He just... I don't know, he's a big fan of yours I don't think he's processed it yet". Max's frown relaxed as you explained it, his ego immediately soothed a bit. Of course he was a big fan of his, who wasn't?

"Oh, so he's a big fan?" he teased, a hint of pride and cockiness in his voice.

You take your shoes off and lay on the bed, your stomach bloated from all the good food "Yeah. Talk to him a bit, I think it'll make him happy" You let out groan as you move "I hate you Italy. You has so much good food... I love it though"

Max chuckled, watching as you dramatically threw yourself onto the bed, your stomach protesting the amount of food you just had. "You're such a drama queen sometimes," he teased, grinning as he took off his shoes as well and joined you on the bed. He lays down beside you, running a hand over your bloated stomach. "You'll be fine," he said, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh, you know what I saw on TikTok?"

Max raised an eyebrow in curiosity, his hand now resting on your stomach. He didn't typically pay too much attention to TikTok, but he was more than happy to listen to you.

"What did you see?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Well first of all, I'm a WAG now. Thank you for that, I will be putting that on my CV. But second, they liked that I was wearing Red Bull merch. I thought they wouldn't like it, but they did"

Max chuckled as you spoke, amused by how casually you mentioned being a WAG, and how seriously you were taking the fact that you were wearing Red Bull merchandise. "Well, of course they liked it," he said with a smirk. "You were wearing the merch of the best team out there."

He gave you a smug look, his hand moving up and tracing a lazy pattern on your stomach. "Not to mention the merch of the best driver out there."

[call-sign-shark]

Of Bending and Breaking || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Always being the one who cares for others comes with a price: you break down, but the most unexpected person is here for you: Tommy, the man you were forced to marry.

Words: 2,3k

TW: Hurt/Comfort, very tiny mention of past sexual assault, no proofreading 'cause it comes from clearing my drafts.

Notes: Aunt Isabella's is a tribute to my own aunt Isabelle who, unfortunately, died because of cancer a few years ago.

It all started with Polly shaking Tommy like a tree, her thin hands firmly grabbing his nephew’s broad shoulders: “You can’t keep sabotaging yourself like this, Tom.” These were the words that left her quivering lips as she dragged his staggering frame to the bathroom and pushed his face into the bathtub right under the tap. When the freezing water splashed all over his neck, Tommy opened his blank eyes wide and inhaled sharply, as if he had suddenly come back to life. Since Grace’s awful death, the gangster was the shadow of his former self. When he wasn’t waging a senseless war with Father Hughes and the Italian, or when he wasn’t keeping his buzzing mind busy with work, Tommy usually numbed himself with a deadly combination of whisky and opium until his deep-seated pain became bearable. It was the night he almost overdosed that Polly decided to take charge of his nephew and found him a new wife, in the hope of soothing his nephew’s mind and finding a mother figure for poor little Charlie. The idea had obviously sent Tommy in a fit of anger but Polly Gray couldn’t care less.

Regarding your own situation, it was not the opium nor the loss of a dear lover that had led you to Birmingham’s most dangerous man but rather the bump in your belly. Aunt Isabella had understood what you were suffering from the moment you had stormed out of the vardo to throw up your breakfast in the nearest bush. The tall and lean woman, whose light brown and curly mane danced in the cold autumn wind, had looked at you right in the eyes and raised one of her thin eyebrows. If there was something pleasant with her, it was that words weren’t necessary.

Yet, later she encountered Polly, with whom she had been a great friend since childhood, and explained that a powerful American man had forced his seeds in you during his stay in England. Not willing to go through the traumatic experience of aborting, Isabella only saw one solution to your problem: you needed a husband who could protect you and your future baby from the evil man with his scarred lip. A wedding would be your salvation. At the realization of what Aunt Isabella had planned for you, you tried to run away from the camp in the middle of the night but she knew you too well and soon caught you, her sly hand firmly grabbing your wrist: “Y/N! It’s for your sake! He’s rich, he needs a wife and he is feared! You’ll be safe with him, don’t you understand?” She explained, cupping your face with her long fingers adorned with claws painted in red and far too many rings. “I don’t need a man to protect me! I don’t need anyone. He’s older and he’s a criminal! Who’s going to protect me from him eh? Have you think ‘bout that?” You cried, the soft light of the sunrise turning your tears into liquid gold.

But still, you wedded him and what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life turned out to be a dull event during which you dissociated the whole time. The only memories you had in mind were two piercing and frightening turquoise eyes staring right at your soul and soft whiskey-tasting lips stealing a quick peck from your cherry lips. A kiss devoid of any form of affection. And then, the groom left.

From what Aunt Isabella told you, your husband had spent most of the celebrations with his brothers, drinking and taking bets outside of Arrow House. Months had passed and still, you felt estranged to this place and its staff. The only moments your heart lightened were when Aunt Isabella visited you, or when Charlie spent time with you, otherwise you remained emotionally closed, trapped in your own mind. Overall you could not complain: You had a house far too big for you with plenty of workers willing to exhaust every one of your wishes. Charlie was a sweet boy, who loved you with all his heart even if you were well aware that you’ll never replace his mother. As for the Shelby clan, they were cordial with you without being really friendly either. And there was Tommy…

Cold and distant Tommy, who you only saw late at night when he discretely slipped under the bedsheet and turned his back to you without uttering a single word. Busy Tommy, whose replies remained concise and spoken with a quiet husky voice each time you asked him something — at least he talked to you a little bit. Trapped in a loveless marriage, that was what you were: Tommy was more a stranger, a mere gust of wind in your life, than the love of your life.

Still, the gangster stayed true to his words and he provided for everything, never refusing to give you money when you asked, and protecting you from the man who had taken your innocence. He even gifted you a wonderful stallion because he knew how much you missed riding. In exchange for his protection and riches, all you had to do was take care of Charlie and do your best to be there for your husband when his darkness threatened to swallow him whole.

You found out about the nightmares shortly after your wedding and quickly decided to do something about it. When he woke up screaming and drenched in sweat after tasting the tunnels’ dirt and Grace’s crimson blood in his troubled sleep, you always cradle him, your fingers losing themselves in his wet dark hair to pet his head gently. At first, you feared his reaction, expecting the infamous Tommy Shelby to push you and not-so-kindly ask you to keep your distance but, to your greatest surprise, he never did. Instead, he would bury his face in your cleavage, panting and trembling, and let you reassure him. Just like he let you bring dinner to him each time he drowned himself in paperwork and forgot to eat. He never commented on your cooking skills though, even if he always handed back empty plates.

The blood on his skin? You cleaned it.

The wounds of his flesh? You never failed to patched them up.

The hole in his heart? You tried to seal it off with caresses, soft kisses, and shoulder massages. Maybe one day he would slowly turn his iciness into affection. Little did you know that he needed it. And by it he needed you. Just like the whole family. How many times did you walk the streets of Birmingham at night, seeking for Arthur and then bringing him home to take care of a wasted and high him? Far too many to keep track. Similarly, you had spent countless evenings helping Ada when she felt overwhelmed, either nursing Karl or cleaning her house when, just like her brother, she overworked herself. And finally, Polly could never thank you enough for everything you did to soothe her mind after the gallows, still haunted by the bite of the hanging rope on her throat.

“Thanks Poppy.” Arthur muttered, the gravel in his voice coated with shame now that you were down clearing and disinfecting his split knuckles. The oldest brother had started to affectionately call you so for the sole reason that, according to him, you must probably grow better when blood was considering how much you had seen when patching the Shelby siblings. “Sorry for errr… For the mess.” He went on, his steel blue eyes fleeing yours.

“That’s okay.” You replied in Romani, “You, sweet idiot.” Endeared by how surprisingly soft Arthur’s harsh complexions could turn, you couldn’t help but gently put your hand on one of his cheeks. And during this tender display of affection, Arthur was convinced he had caught sight of a smile — a scarce event barely happening on your beautiful but resigned face. Comforted by the warmth of your palm, he leaned into your touch and looked at you through dark lashes, his lids half-closed.

“Tommy’s one lucky bastard to have ya for himself, eh."

"Let's both flee together then." You teased, the familiar tone of Romani language rendered even more melodious by your siren-like voice.

"Don't tempt me, little one." Arthur replied, softer than intended and probably only half-joking.

The oldest Shelby brother had barely closed the door when your smile disappeared and tears flooded your eyes. Admittedly, spending months of repressing your own anguish didn’t do any good to you despite thinking that focusing on others would have helped. Quite the contrary, all those negative emotions you had left on the back burner turned into a silent and deadly parasite that was eating you up. Dragging your tired frame to the cold and empty marital bedroom, you curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, your bruised knees pressed against your chest, “Positive. You gotta stay positive and push forwards y’see Y/N? Do the right things for the family…” You whispered to yourself as your breath started to quicken for the ball of sorrow in your throat was growing more and more. Yes, you had to smile and say that all was just fine because you knew you were lucky to be here and that you hadn’t any real reason to complain now according to the rest of the world. And yet, the truth was you were tired. So tired and overwhelmed by everything around you. With your wild soul trapped here in the mighty walls of Arrow House, you could not help but drown in an excruciating feeling of worthlessness.

You were lost in a world too difficult for you to understand. Lost and unprepared for a life that asked for too much. When you were living in the vardo with Aunt Isabella life seemed so much easier despite the lack of money and, sometimes, food. Prior to your wedding, she used to tell you that everything would become clear once you’d be a wife and a mother. You’d be an adult adult, you see? But she lied. They all lied. Even with a husband and kids, you still felt like a scared and confused child, who wanted to hide under the blanket of her warm bed and never face the world ever again. These concerns of yours? You never shared because you wanted the Shelby to keep seeing you as a reassuring presence— moreover, God knew how much their broken hearts needed your silent care.

Bringing your trembling fingers to your mouth, you muffled a first sob, convinced it would be enough to keep you from crying. What you didn’t expect was to burst into tears, uncontrollably weeping. After all this time forcing yourself to be strong, your mind had enough. As your heart-wrenching cries echoed in the room they muffled Tommy’s footsteps that were coming closer and closer. When the door flung open, you did not even move, lost in a spiral of pain and psychological exhaustion.

“Y/N?!” Tommy called you, his usual coldness swept away by a surge of panic. He closed the distance between you and him with hastened steps, and put one of his knees on the floor to be at your level, “What’s wrong, ay?” His husky voice asked, worries thickening his Brummie accent even more. You hiccuped and raised your flooded eyes towards him, parting your lips to answer. Yet, as soon as your gaze met his turquoise iris you started weeping again, louder this time. Words were at a loss by dint of never having the chance to express what you felt throughout your life. “Bloody Hell, Y/N! Speak!” Tommy hissed, his heart now drumming in his chest at the sight of his young and always-so-strong wife crumbling in bits in front of him. Never in his life, he had felt so powerless, not even in the tunnels… And, God, he hated it.

“N-nothing. I don’t… I don’t even know it’s just that— I’m so fucking tired, and lost, and confused, and afraid!” You spoke with a very fast pace, spitting years and years of repressed emotions flowing from you all the while feeling deeply ashamed of your mental breakdown. When you were done venting, you simply turned your head and waved off the topic, tears still rolling down your reddened cheeks “Anyway! You’ve got — more important things to do.”

“Stop it, Y/N,” He scolded, low voice rumbling in his chest. His strong and calloused hands, damaged by the war and hard work, cupped your face with a softness you didn’t know he possessed. For the first time in your life, his grip felt utterly reassuring as if you knew these scarred palms were not going to let you fall apart. Never. “You’re what’s important right now.” With that being said, Tommy leaned his forehead against yours and his enchanting eyes soon met yours to force you to focus on nothing else but the vast blue oceans which composed them. “I want you to calm down.”

“I can’t, I can’t—“ You tried to speak but you couldn’t, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of your panic attack. Your mouth gaped, looking for the oxygen it couldn’t find.

“Oi!” Tommy said louder. So loud that his voice managed to overcome the cacophony of your beating heart and the buzzing sound of your anxiety that filled your head, “I want you to breathe with me, Y/N. Alright? You can do that for me, ay?” He asked, his eyebrows slightly frowned and charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes — how odd it was to see Tommy’s face veiled with something else than unsettling placidity. Caught off guard by the sudden realization of how close he was, you quieted down a little bit and soon followed the pattern of his breathing.

One long inhale through the nose, one longer exhale through the mouth, and a short pose.

Do it again.

Your shaky hands slowly grabbed his wrists in a desperate attempt to anchor you to reality. This, as well as the focus you had on his mesmerizing complexions.

His long dark lashes — you inhaled slowly.

His cat-like turquoise iris — you exhaled.

His salient cheekbones — You stopped breathing for a very short while.

The myriad of freckles — “Breathe with me, Y/N.”

The soft, hoarse lilt guided you through the dark and thick fog of your own brain, just like a lighthouse. Coming back to clearer waters, your body finally relaxed and fell almost limp in his arms. And once again he caught you, keeping you all safe against his chest. Tommy’s voice, low and steady, resonated one last time in the bedroom with a reassuring warmth as he uttered the simple yet powerful phrase, "I'm here." Each word carefully enunciated, carrying a quiet strength that soothed and reassured, like a comforting anchor in a stormy sea.

Keep your writers motivated: Reblog and/or comment if you liked it, you filthy animal! o/ English is not my first language btw.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @red-riding-wood

[sun-snatcher]

If you're writing for dp3 then Hiraeth from your prompt list would work SO well since they're all stuck in the void! 🤲🏽😭 We need Gambit fics its a DROUGHT HELP

♧ ⎯ LUCK O’ THE DRAW !

summ. You find the Devil himself at the end of the world. Surprisingly, it isn’t the first time you have. It is, however, the first time it hurts. pairing. Void!Gambit x f!Anomaly!reader (established relationship. Kinda. Multiverse be funky like 'dat.) w.count. 1.8k a/n. Because Channing deserved that Gambit all those years ago, and I've come to (attempt to) deliver what the the people have asked. Masterlist here.

MOST PEOPLE MEET THE DEVIL at a crossroads, but you meet yours in— quite literally— the back end of fuckin’ nowhere.

It hurt more than it should.

Your heart practically stutters. 

“Remy.”  

Then he turns, and you wait for the flash of recognition in his eyes.

Nothing comes.

And then. And then.

Realisation— logic. The cold, hard truth: This isn’t your Remy LeBeau. Your Remy had died long before, in a Universe that was pruned and erased into nothingness by the TVA. Your Universe. The joke? That the Gambit before you is merely a variant amongst a million. The punchline? He looks exactly the same as the day you’d lost your own. 

“Well, this is awkward. You know off-shoot Hawkeye here?” Wade says, astonished, before his eyes widened. “Ah. Tragic exposition time for the readers, I see.”

Your mind is still reeling. It feels like someone’s just jammed a chisel straight into your gut. “I— Knew a version. Variant, I guess,” you manage to correct yourself, distracted by the skirting trenchcoat and the all too familiar sound of shuffling cards. 

Christ, it’s like he’d stepped right out of your memories.

Remy’s eyebrows shoot up as he studies you. Something in your chest pulls taut, threatening to snap as he speaks. “Apologies, mon ami. But as far as I remember, I ain’t never seen you before.”

“Ouch,” Wade winces, looking between you both. “What a classic trope! This is like, me talking to my past Mom in The Adam Project. Funnily enough, my Mom was you!” He snorts, pointing to Elektra. 

You ignore Wade and offer Remy a wan smile. “I figured. It’s okay.”

…It is obviously, in fact, not okay. 

You avoid him like a plague shortly after the entire commotion; it’s almost comical. Wade had managed to come up with a plan with the rest of the group, albeit a ramshackle, flimsy one, but you’ve hardly been able to pay attention through the bloodrush of shock rocketing in your head, anyway. 

Being around this Remy is stunningly stifling. 

The lilt of his accent, the sharpness in his smile; the flourishing of cards and the faint hum-drum of kinetic charge against his fingertips. 

You’ve seen it all before, once upon a time. You never thought any of it could ever bring you to this bad of a heel. 

It hadn’t taken long before you’d tried drowning yourself at the end of a bottle of brandy Logan had handed you that night. (The whiskey tames his mordance and makes him uncharacteristically civil. He’d said something along the lines of: Y’need this more than I do, bub; look like you’ve just seen a fuckin’ ghost. Shit, I guess you did, huh? )

“Mais la,” comes a huff. “Ain’t that mine?”

A frisson runs through your heart. 

“Sorry,” you say, barely glancing up from the barrel fire tucked outside the team’s hideout. You’re not quite sure you can handle meeting his gaze. “I know I should’ve asked.”

A playful hum. Remy settles on the log adjacent to yours. “S’alright. No harm done, chèr.”

It takes everything in you not to flinch at the endearment. If he’d noticed, well— he’s smart enough not to mention it. He’s curious and it stands to reason; afterall, he’s never quite seen someone look at him as weathered as the way you do. It’s as if the effort itself to do so would be unbearable.

“Y’kno’, I been told I’m easy on the eyes. Not for you, tho’, eh?” Remy shoots you an amicable smile. It’s charming, if a little compelling. “Guessin’ I made bad on you where y’from? You done been boudéin’ since y’first got here.” 

You let out a laugh. It’s the most brittle sound he’s ever heard come from someone. 

“No, no,” you shake your head. “It’s… You just make me a lil’ homesick, is all.”

Remy bristles with his deck of cards. A Charlier cut; a One-handed shuffle. It’s a mindless tic; your variant used to do the exact same with the exact same ease.

(Such a miracle, you remember thinking once, that there could be symmetries in the Multiverse. Now you learn, perhaps, it’s far more a curse. Either way, you can hear Remy’s doting voice in a distant memory, dimpling coyly at you: “S’just the luck o’ your draw, chèr.” )

You tamp down the memory before it could sink its jowls any deeper in you. 

“You’re curious,” you say.

He makes a noise of assent. Revolution cut; One-handed shuffle. Repeat.

“I ain’t gon’ axe if y’ain’t wanna answer.” 

It’s kind of him. 

You forgot he was like this.

Witty, yet gentlemanly. The way Remy always has been.

Underneath the blanket of the night, the crackle of the flames limn the planes of his face in flickering, hazy saffron. The look in his eyes is sincere as they meet your red-rimmed gaze. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him, and in this light no less: tall, cutting, strong.

Lively.

The last you’d seen Remy, he’d been drawn out and battered by the war. Not that he’d ever admit it; he always insisted on keeping up his sunny disposition despite the constant losing battles happening. (Sometimes you think you resent him for doing that; it’d felt like he’d taken the light of the world with him when—)

You thank your lucky stars the variant Remy doesn’t make a comment on how you must be staring so openly. It’s a feeble attempt to committing every detail to memory, you suppose, in case you don’t get the chance again.

“In my Universe, a war was waging against mutants.” Your nails tinker against the empty bottleneck of the flat whiskey you’d nursed, thinking of how to cut a bloodshed of a story short; to get your point across before you falter and lose your footing.

“There was a mission sanctioned, and during it— a decision had to be made at that moment. So… you chose. Easily.” Your brows pinch tight against your will. The molten burn returns to the back of your eyes. “You saved so many lives the day you died.” 

Something catches in your throat when you realise your mistake, find yourself amending instantly, “He. He died.”

(It had been swift. A small mercy, all things considered. There wasn’t even a need to check for a pulse when you finally managed to reach for him.)

You’re fidgeting, too, with something in your other hand. Remy catches sight of it only now: a card, sitting pinched between your ringed fingers. Nine of Hearts. Its edges are torn and creased across the face, singed an ashen black. 

A proverbial piece of Remy’s heart, carried to the end with you.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a cold rush over his body at the sight. 

“…I’m sorry, chèr,” he offers quietly, inadequate as it is. He hadn’t expected that. 

He can’t imagine how haunting it must be to look at someone you’d shared a lifetime with and be met with a complete stranger instead. 

A living, breathing, ghost.

That unbiddable feeling of longing had always seemed to accompany the sight of him; but now it’s different. Now, there’s a blistering, brutal pain to come with; All-encompassing grief, thick as molasses in your lungs, overturning itself like a phantom from wherever you thought you’d buried it a long time ago. 

The only way to smother it would be to reach out, to hold him like you had once before, and isn’t that an ironic inconvenience? 

“No, no. I’m sorry,” you tell him, sigh coming out as an awkward laugh. A breeze passes and you inhale deep to ground yourself. Press your eyes shut momentarily to will away useless tears. “It must be so weird to hear all of this from me about— well, you, technically.”

“Mais, can’t ‘ave all been a bad memory, tho’, right?”

Right. No. It hadn’t been. There’s something else too. An undercurrent. Beyond the grief, the deep ache in your marrows— you think it’s nostalgia. Hiraeth. More bittersweet than it is painful.

It’s… It’s watching mutant schoolkids teaching him UNO for the first time. It’s the bickering over the beignets for breakfast, or your feet on his lap at the couch in the lounge after dinners with the rest of the X-Men. Lazy banter. Conversations that go everywhere and nowhere.

“Yeah,” you agree, feeling something bloom in your chest you thought long lost. “You taught me everything about your home, too. Down South. Told me about the bayou, the cypress trees. Your Cajun, your ways. We used to play Bourré.”

Talk of home has him ducking into a laugh. Remy had been in the Void far longer than the rest (he figures, at least)— he’s very nearly lost most of his fragmented memories to time by now. “Did I? Oughta’ play a game or two wit’ you.”

You buckle at that. “Ah. You were always the better player.”

Then:

He makes the leap before he runs out of steam. “Was we…?”

His finger darts between the space you two share.

“Oh, no,” you override, sheepishly. “No, we, we were good friends and stayed good friends. I was—” Your breath scurries; a reconsideration. “I was glad with that. You had a Southern belle named Anna Marie. A powerful mutant called Rogue. You two were good for each other.”

You must have given yourself away somewhere, though, the way Remy is reading you with a pinned gaze. It’s the same, levelled look you’ve seen before— the kind he gets in a game of cards. 

Something discerning eclipses in his eyes.

He’d gotten the measure of you in an instant. 

“Gambit musta’ been blind blind not t’see you.”

Ah.

You smile. It’s windswept. Resigned. “Well. Doesn’t matter now, does it? My Gambit’s gone. No matter how much I wish I can see him again.”

Remy’s eyes dart to your hands.

“Y’kno’, chèr,” he begins, something spirited in his tone. “In the world of cards, each a’ these and they suits hold a meanin’.”

He flourishes his deck, hypnotisingly smooth with every elegant cut, fan and spring. Every shuffle cascades as smooth as liquid in the sleight of his hands.

“Some of my folks back in New Orleans I remember, they learned me to read ‘em. Now, outta the whole deck? What you got there; the Nine of Hearts is also called the Wish card.”

The small laugh that punches out of you is bell-like. “Really?” 

It’s warm. Bright. Musical to his ears. It washes over him, and he can’t help but hang on to the peal. He wanted to hear it again. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Remy clicks his tongue as he shoots you a sunny look. “Would never lie t’you, chèr.”

The cracks in your soul don’t disappear, but they surely lighten as you look gently at him. “Huh. Well, I guess I got my wish, didn’t I?” 

He chuckles. 

“Mais, I ain’t your Gambit but—” 

He leans. Reaches out behind your ear with an empty palm, playfully revealing a gilded card from seemingly thin air with a sharp flick of his wrist:

Another Nine of Hearts. His. He hands it over to you, by way of meaning—  I’m here, now.

New beginnings.

You take the card with a smile.

[zepskies]

Imagine: Soldier Boy Getting Jealous...

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader || (past Frenchie x F. Reader)

Request: Soldier Boy finding out you had something with Frenchie, years before meeting him.

Word Count: 1K

Tags/Warnings: Jealousy lol (With a hint of spice.~)

Imagine: Ben getting jealous over your past relationship with Frenchie.

He doesn't care.

Because he doesn't care...

When you sit him down in the living room of your apartment and tell him you used to date Frenchie, Ben's reaction is mild at best. To the point where it kind of concerns you.

Ben raises a brow and gives a deep hum.

"Oh, really? That limey bastard?" he remarks. He takes a sip from his tumbler of whiskey. You give him a weary sigh.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call him that," you reply. You and Frenchie are still friends. Your "entanglement" was years ago, before he even started hooking up with Cherie.

But you still want to be honest with Ben. You two have been dating for a few months now, and it's actually serious. No one's more surprised than you by that fact, but...you're happy. You think he is too.

At your response, however, Ben rolls his eyes and continues drinking. You tilt your head in suspicion.

"So you're chill?" you ask.

"Chill?" he quirks a brow at you. Your lips form a smile.

"You're okay with this," you amend.

Ben shrugs and turns on the TV, trying to navigate the streaming apps. You’d put him on to Game of Thrones. Even three seasons into his binge-watching, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s hooked.

"You're fucking a real man now, sweetheart. No skin off my nose," he says.

It's your turn to roll your eyes, despite a warm blush stinging your cheeks.

But the next time you all go out together to a club in the city, Ben watches you leave his side to say hello to your friends: Annie, Hughie, Frenchie and Kimiko. Frenchie takes your hands and makes a show of looking you up and down.

"Well, well. She shoots to kill tonight, eh?" Frenchie says. When he leans in to kiss your cheek, he whispers, "Ah, black leather. My old favorite."

"Stop," you warn with a smile, hitting his shoulder. He's absolutely shameless. "You're too much."

"And you are just enough," Frenchie returns. He whistles playfully as he raises your hand to twirl you around, showing you off in your little black dress and red-bottom heels.

You laugh, but you bump into Ben when you twirl for the second time. Your laughter cuts off abruptly when you see the flinty look on his face, though he's clinging to stoicism.

Frenchie’s eyes widen as he seems to realize the very real danger he's put himself in. He wisely lets go of your hand, pivots on his heel and goes with Kimiko over to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, you move back to Ben's side and try to placate him by looping your arm through his. He responds by wrapping a strong arm around your waist. His eyes bore into the back of Frenchie's head so hard, you almost expect laser beams to come out of them.

"Come on, let's get a drink," you suggest, patting a hand on Ben's chest. He looks good tonight in a burgundy button-down shirt tucked into his slacks.

Ben wordlessly agrees to your suggestion, but he grabs a stool and drags it close to his own seat. He does help you by the hand onto the stool, but then his arm wraps back around your waist, pulling you in snugly, possessively to his side.

You try not to smile in amusement. It's a caveman's display, but at least you know the root cause this time.

...Okay, maybe you feel the tiniest bit complicit, but really, you think Ben's overreacting.

After he flags down the bartender and orders his bourbon and your martini, you tap against his bearded cheek, earning his green-eyed attention.

"You okay?" you ask knowingly.

"Just fine," he deadpans.

"Oh, well that's convincing," you say with a smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm here with you?"

Ben's gaze hardens. "I don't know. You were pretty happy to let that French whore put his fucking hands all over you—"

"All right. Calm down, Rambo," you say, trying not to laugh as you rub his arm. "Sorry, baby. That's just how we've always cut up. It doesn't mean anything."

Ben scoffs in derision. "Yeah? Fuck if I care."

You frown at that, sparking with annoyance. Somehow, now you actually do feel guilty. You and Frenchie have bounced off each other like Derek and Garcia for so long, you didn't even realize how it might look...or how it might make your boyfriend feel.

Because even with all that ego and injured pride, you have a feeling there's a real sting of hurt under there.

"Hey," you say, squeezing Ben's wrist. His gaze remains stubbornly on the bartender making your drinks.

You decide to take matters more firmly into your hands.

Reaching up for his chin, you guide Ben's face toward yours and press a kiss to his lips. It's slow at first, but it soon gains in passion. His teeth graze your bottom lip, before his tongue demands entrance into your mouth with claiming purpose.

It elicits a hint of a moan from you, your fingers clenching in his hair. Your nails drag against his scalp, almost making him shudder.

Your supple lips eventually pull away from his, nice and slow.

"Your hands are the only hands I care about touching me," you say. Your expression twinkles with mischief as you toy with the zipper on the side of your dress.

"As a matter of fact, I need your help," you add. "This zipper keeps catching on something. I think it's stuck."

Quite possibly because someone got a little handsy in the cab on the way here.

Ben smirks, though he claims your lips in one more slightly rough kiss before he answers.

"Well that is a problem," he says. His eyes roam down your face, taking in your thoroughly kissed lips, and the cleavage peeking out at him from the neckline of your dress.

"Think I can give you a hand," he says, as his actual hand slips down your leg. His fingers brush along the inside of your thigh, tingling across your skin. His half-lidded gaze once again meeting yours. "Better take you out back and fix you up."

You laugh, despite the return of your blush. You cling to his shoulders, while his fingers burn a tantalizing trail upwards.

"Oh, yeah. Save me, Soldier Boy!" you tease.

He snorts in response, but he helps guide you out of your seat.

Moments later, all your friends find at the bar are two forgotten drinks and a couple of empty stools.

AN: Ah, jealous Ben. It's fun to imagine. 😂

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List (Part 1):

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[sorryimananti-romantic]

Good Lil Boy

prince!wooyoung x princess!reader

enemies to lovers au

genres: tiny bit of fluff, loads of angst, smut- both hard and soft (mdi!) swearing, wooyoung being wooyoung (a tease), wooyoung driving you clinically and romantically insane, etc etc

word count: 23k

synopsis: you and wooyoung may be best friends but you are also each other's worst enemies, leaving no chance to humiliate and tease the other. when you meet at prince yunho's kingdom for a 3 months retreat, things take an unexpected turn as you start to place very personal bets and find yourselves unable to keep your hands off each other, something you'd regret later as you fail to keep boundaries.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Unfortunately, that is how it is,” Seonghwa was resting his face on one hand, elbow propped on the table as he scanned you, a smirk growing on his face. “Can’t say I hate what’s happening. Ought to put you in your place, Princess.”

You looked at Hongjoong for help, “He’s not fucking serious, is he?”

“Ought to teach you how to speak to elders too,” Seonghwa muttered and Hongjoong laughed.

“I’m sorry, Princess. That’s how it is. It’s only three months, what could go wrong?”

That was the conversation you recalled when you reached the castle in Utopia, the face you were dreading right in front of you as you got out of your carriage.

“This place is already one prince too crowded,” you looked at Prince Wooyoung, his smirk growing by the second. “Here to learn how to live up to your title, eh?”

“I’d say that to you,” Prince Wooyoung bowed dramatically. “This place ought to teach a princess how to make good use of her mouth.”

“Like you’d know,” you sneered at him as you waited for Hongjoong and Seonghwa to stop giving orders to the rest of your companions so they could join you and take you inside, away from that brat.

“I’d say I know very well- how to make good use of my mouth,” he winked at you and you put your hands over your ears, grimacing as you called for the two to hurry up. Prince Wooyoung scoffed in victory before going inside with his companions who greeted you with bows. 

Just a week ago, you had received the news from your father- Utopia’s royal family had invited princes and princesses from across the continent, holding an event, something like a holiday retreat for everyone. The details of it you would receive upon arriving but you had heard it was going to be fun and games, and you would have believed them, would have enjoyed your stay except-

Except for the fact that Wooyoung was here.

You didn’t hate Wooyoung, no. You abhorred him, his sassiness, his brattiness, his very existence, just like he hated yours. And it wasn’t due to a petty reason (though that was debatable as well). As children, since your parents were close, you two had spent most of your prepubescent years together. You had even been friends. But everything had changed once you two were grown enough to be aware that you were a boy and a girl.

And it was both your fault and his. 

You did not like recalling the dark times, as you so dramatically liked to put. Some would say it wasn’t even a reason big enough to hate each other, but you argued that it was. He had humiliated you in front of Prince Yunho, whose castle in Utopia you were now in. You, in return, had humiliated him in front of Princess Yuju of Neverland, whom he had always had a crush on. You called yourself even but he decided to fight with you, the result of which was now obvious to everyone who knew you.

Prince Yunho greeted you both as you entered the castle, inquiring of your parents’ health. You shared a hug, telling him how much they missed him and looked forward to meeting him in three months’ time, when all this would be over.

“Are you sure your parents are the only ones who missed him?” Wooyoung muttered and you flipped your middle finger at him, Yunho laughing at you two as he told Wooyoung to behave while he was around you. You left before he could start recalling the dark times, putting an arm in Seonghwa’s as he escorted you to the guest chambers.

“You should have told me that brat was going to be here,” you slumped on the couch, Seonghwa and Hongjoong snickering, “You both just love to see me miserable, don’t you?”

“Come on,” Hongjoong said, “If we’d told you, you would have never agreed to come.”

“Exactly,” you gave him a side-eye, “This is treachery. I ought to get you both beheaded.”

Seonghwa ignored your remarks like he usually did as he handed you a glass of water, “Cool down. It would do you good to tolerate his existence while you’re here. Who knows? Maybe you two will become friends again.”

“Yeah, who knows, Seonghwa,” you sipped the water. “Maybe he would fall to his knees and apologise. Maybe the world will end. Who knows?”

“Why is she so dramatic?” Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong for help who was almost half asleep.

“The important question, my dear friend,” Hongjoong began, “Is why do we serve this spoilt Princess-”

“I’m spoiled? You clearly haven’t met Wooyoung.”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong decided you were right later that evening when Wooyoung was flirting with the other princesses from around the continent while sending knowing smirks in your direction, which you tried to ignore but then he did what you feared- a princess you recognised was from the south came and asked you, “Did you really burn your hair off once while trying to impress Prince Yunho? All of it?”

However, the duo were also impressed by your patience and your will to not bend under Wooyoung, to meet fire with fire, as you replied, “Oh no, honey. That was Prince Wooyoung- you see how half his hair is another colour? That’s because they can never be the same colour again. Ask him, go on.”

The Princess, who was no more than 13, gasped, believing what you said right away as she made her way back to Wooyoung and seconds later, you heard a howl of laughter and you sipped on your wine in victory. Hongjoong patted you on the back, “I have to admit, that was a good one.”

“Do not encourage her,” Seonghwa warned but he, too, was smiling. “Here he comes.”

Prince Wooyoung plopped himself beside you, shaking his head as he grinned, “That was a good one. They refuse to believe I haven’t dyed my hair.”

“You should have been more clever with your lies,” you smiled sweetly at him, “I do wonder what you were thinking when you decided this was a good look on you.”

“Oh, the ladies love it,” Wooyoung flicked his half-tied hair, “So. I hear it’s about time you get married. Should I find you a good suitor here?”

Oh no.

“You’re my age,” you smirked at him, “Maybe I should announce you’re mine. Let’s see if you get the same company of ladies around you then.”

Wooyoung cooed, “Can’t resist calling me yours?”

You leaned forward, your noses almost brushing, “My tongue’s still bitter thanks to the aftertaste.”

Wooyoung made a face as you sat back in your position, “Three months here, Princess. Get ready for hell.”

He blew a kiss your way before he went back, making all the ladies that were watching go wild and you glared at Seonghwa and Hongjoong, “Give me a good enough reason not to murder him right now.”

“Your own execution?”

“I said a good enough reason,” you turned to look at Wooyoung who was now back to sitting in the middle of a crowd of ladies, “Execution sounds tempting.”

—----------------

The next day, all the young royals settled themselves in the Great Hall for breakfast where you spotted Prince San- an old friend of yours. You waved at him from a distance and wowed internally at how different he looked- he had definitely matured a lot. Prince Yunho stood up after everyone was done with breakfast, clinking his glass to get everyone's attention.

"It's so good to have most of you here, after years," he began, meeting eyes with the princes and princesses from across the continent, "It was my father's idea that I host this retreat for all of us, a way to catch up with everyone and reminisce over old memories, and who knows? Maybe some of us will go back engaged," he threw a wink in one direction. "Anyways, you all are free to roam around, but I had a little something in mind-"

He then laid out his plan- Mondays for horse riding, Tuesdays for board games, Wednesdays for outdoor games, Thursdays for history lessons, Fridays for balls and parties and Saturdays and Sundays would be free unless something came up. You liked that- you weren't bound to stay the whole three months (though Yunho assured anyone who wanted to could stay here forever) but you decided it was a relief from your life back home, where everyday had started to feel bland as you followed a mechanical routine. Everyone was just as excited as you, if not more. 

You got up after Yunho excused himself, approaching San and sharing a hug, "You've changed, Prince."

"I hope it's a good change. You're prettier than ever," San smiled. 

"Thank you," you smiled back. "Good to see you, Jongho," you addressed his Right Hand, who was also a friend of yours.

"It's been long, Princess," he bowed. "I see Yeosang- let's go greet them. Have you met them yet?"

Yeosang being Wooyoung's Right Hand- you shook your head, following him as Yeosang greeted you three.

"Ah, Princess, I'm glad you're here. Finally someone I can badmouth Wooyoung with."

You grinned, "This is why I like you, Yeosang."

"Now, now," Wooyoung approached you. "Already teaming up against me?"

"What do you mean? We've been a team ever since I can remember," Yeosang dramatically said, earning a laugh from everyone else and a slap from him.

"All my best friends are here," Yunho and his Right Hand, Mingi approached the group with Seonghwa and Hongjoong, "There's a lot of catching up to do. What do you say, drinks tonight, my room."

Everyone agreed, "Only if someone stops Mingi from crying when he gets drunk."

"I don't cry when I'm drunk!" Mingi laughed at Jongho.

"You definitely do, Mingi, I can attest to that," Yunho laughed.

Yunho was right.

Mingi did cry when drunk.

However, that was the least of your problems right now, because what threatened you was Wooyoung, who was an extreme flirt when drunk.

"Like sober Wooyoung wasn't enough," you put your feet on his shoulder to push him away harshly as he tried approaching you, almost crawling. "Now I have to deal with a horny Wooyoung."

It had all been normal- after dinner, you all met in Yunho's room after the rest of the people excused themselves for the night. Some were having drinks with their own groups, and your group of friends was as old as you so nobody batted an eye at your easy interactions.

You all caught up with each other, Wooyoung and you occasionally shooting a snide remark to the other, and the boys made you both sit in opposite corners, having a laugh over how you two still fought so much that it was probably love.

"That's not love," you spat.

"Yeah, we hate each other's guts," Wooyoung, for once, was on your side.

"You keep saying that," San teased, "I just know these three months are going to change something between you two indefinitely."

"Eternal hate sounds appealing, what say you, Wooyoung?"

"Very," he grinned at you.

"Gosh, is nobody gonna comment on his hair though?" You met eyes with everyone, "He looks like a half fried biscuit."

Everyone roared with laughter and Wooyoung gaped at you, "Nice try, Princess. Obviously trying to get attention off the fact that you have this weird haircut now- do you know it makes your face look fat?"

You unconsciously tugged at your bangs while the rest of the boys looked at each other, an echo of "I didn't even notice" and "me neither" going around the room.

"Please, have you looked in the mirror? And what's with the ponytail? You think you look hot?"

"I don't know, Princess," Wooyoung turned towards you. "Do I look hot?"

"Oh, someone get me a drink before I throw up all over the rug," you mumbled, Yeosang laughing as he passed you a drink and you downed it, glaring at Wooyoung who still looked amused. "Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Prince. Someone might think you actually find me funny."

"I do," he said, "find you amusing. Such a mouth you have on you. God…" he downed his own drink. "I missed this."

You started smiling- you missed this too. You may hate Wooyoung's guts but he was still your oldest friend. Everyone cheered, clinking their glasses together, going back to teasing each other over anything and everything-

Until everyone became drunk.

"Get him off me, Yeosang," you almost cried. "He's being weird."

"You two need this, you know," Yeosang only watched as Wooyoung attempted to crawl on top of you just to spite you. "We ought to put you two in the same dungeon for these three months."

"There's so much sexual tension between them, it's not even funny," San commented.

"Oh, shut up!" You and Wooyoung shouted at him together and he raised his hands but his smug face said he had proven his point. You got up, going to hide between Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

"Princess!" Wooyoung cried out as he got up, swerving dangerously as he ran his eyes around the room, searching for- "You!"

He almost tripped on one of Yunho's sprawled limbs as he made his way in front of you, "Everyone! Do you all know it's time for our little princess to find a suitor!"

Everyone including, to your dismay, Seonghwa and Hongjoong raised their glasses and cheered for you and you slumped even further down the couch. Wooyoung met eyes with you, "So… Who in this room would you give a chance, Princess?"

You rolled your eyes, "You think you undeserving shits have a chance?" Everyone booed at you, making you laugh. "No, I'm serious. Who do you think I'd even consider? I have known you guys since we were toddlers, take that into consideration too."

Wooyoung went behind San, rubbing his shoulders. "This lad has grown up well. How about him?"

You looked at Wooyoung in warning, who sported the most smug expression. San was thankfully too drunk to notice what was happening. "Can you stop this and sit down before I make you?"

"Make me? You can't make me do anything, Princess."

You took the challenge, walking to him slowly and he mimicked your actions until you both were face to face. "Look at you. You're just begging for it, Wooyoung. Begging for me to put you in your place."

Wooyoung put his fingers under your chin and you tried to ignore the way his eyes were dark as he looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes and the shiver his touch sent down your spine. "Do I have to get on my knees for you to do it?"

You heard the faint oohs from your friends who were conscious enough to listen in. You smirked, "You think about that image a lot? You, on your knees, in front of me?"

"God, no," Wooyoung scoffed, patting your cheek lightly, "Don't flatter yourself, Princess."

"Alright, before you two kiss in front of me," Hongjoong got up, clapping. "Everyone, bed, now."

Wooyoung and you immediately pretended to throw up as you two drew away and you followed Hongjoong and Seonghwa to your chamber, collapsing on the bed and passing out before you could recall the events of tonight.

—--------------------

You were sipping your margarita, relaxing on a chair in the shade with some of the people who weren’t interested in horse-riding itself, or who, like you, were currently inconvenienced due to an injury- yours being a still healing ankle. You figured you could join in the horse-riding lessons in a week or two, though you weren’t sure you would be learning much- you kind of sucked at it no matter who taught you. You just couldn’t deal with horses.

But seeing Wooyoung zoom past the audience with a smug look on his face as he rode possibly the most beautiful stallion present, in a rather graceful manner, you weren’t sure you wanted Wooyoung to see you struggle with horse-riding. After all, he was always waiting for a chance to spot your weakness and make a joke out of it.

“You look like you’re wishing he’d fall off and die,” Princess Yuju- one of your oldest friends- laughed as she slumped down next to you with a drink of her own, patting the sweat off her forehead with a kerchief. 

“Is it that obvious?” You muttered and she shook her head in amusement. “Okay, as appealing as that thought is, I was just wishing I could join, but you know how hesitant I am with horses.”

“I haven’t done this in a while so I have to admit, I was feeling nervous but Seonghwa… he’s a good teacher.”

You raised a brow as you noticed her smiling as she mentioned his name. “You still have a crush on him? I thought that was just a passing thing.”

“I thought too,” she sighed dreamily. “He’s just… such a gentleman.”

You put a hand over your mouth as you laughed, briefly recalling the events of last night. “You know what? Maybe you should see him drunk. He’s very talkative when drunk.”

“He shouldn’t see me drunk,” Yuju muttered and you giggled- she had a habit of getting physically affectionate when drunk, though she had a good level of tolerance. “And… here comes your favourite person.”

You didn’t know who she meant but the last person you were expecting was Wooyoung who was wiping his forehead with a towel and threw it in your direction as he got closer. With no time to dodge it, it landed on your face and you cursed under your breath, throwing it away.

“What’s your problem?”

“You have something on your face,” he said as he settled down in front of Yuju who was trying not to laugh.

“What?” You asked, patting your cheeks.

“Ugliness,” Wooyoung said and turned to Yuju. “How are you doing? You’re prettier than I last saw you.”

“And you’re still as shameless,” Yuju patted your back as you gaped at Wooyoung because how dare he? “I don’t get why you two won’t get along after all these years. It’s like you’re both doing it on purpose.”

“We get along well, don’t we?” Wooyoung asked and you nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, we do,” you looked at Yuju. “As well as water and fire.”

Yuju made an unimpressed face and spotted Seonghwa stepping off from his own horse. Just like yours, Wooyoung’s eyes also followed her gaze and you both shared a knowing smile. Yuju straightened and glanced at you both. “I’m going to leave you two… to bond.”

“To bond,” you muttered sourly as she left and Wooyoung scoffed. 

“So,” he crossed his legs. “How are your parents doing?”

“Are we actually doing this?” You scoffed but when his straight face didn’t change, you shrugged. “They’re fine. What about yours?”

“Fine, for the most part,” he looked towards the field where a few people were still riding. “Mom misses you. She keeps complaining about how you haven’t visited in a while.”

You smiled at that- as strange as your relationship was with Wooyoung, your relationship with his mother was even stranger. It had started as you getting in trouble with her for sneaking in her room because you loved the intricate necklace she always wore- you had been too scared to ask her directly. However, somehow when his mother, instead of scolding you when she found you trying to hide under a table, sneaked under it herself and shared stories of her own childhood, the two of you found yourselves in a bond that resembled something like a friend, or something like a mother-daughter relationship without all its complexities. 

You sometimes wondered if Wooyoung got his adventurous spirit from his mother. 

“I wanted to, last summer, but we had that issue with Halaland going on at that time,” you sighed. “I really wished things had sorted out earlier.”

“Aw, missed me?” He cockily rested his face in his hands. “You can admit it, you know.”

You frowned. “What’s your deal lately? You’ve never acted so… clingy.”

“With each passing year, I level up,” he said and you laughed at that- it was true. He was levelling up each year, not just in his personality and behaviour with you, but-

You couldn’t help but notice how sharp his facial structure had gotten since the last time you saw him- a year ago when he had visited your Kingdom of Eden to sort some things out. Wooyoung caught you staring. “Look at you. Shamelessly checking me out.”

“Do they give you nothing to eat anymore?” You ignored his comment. “You look frail.”

“Don’t tell me you’re worried-”

“Good for me, would make it easier for me to push you to your death-”

“It’s called maintaining myself,” Wooyoung got up and flexed his arm muscles and you blanched, the approaching figure of San shaking with laughter at you two. 

“Leave her alone,” San smacked Wooyoung’s neck. “He’s just trying to impress the ladies- he thinks he looks hot like this. What do you think?”

“Easier to kill,” you muttered.

“He’s gotten stronger, actually, haven’t you, Woo?” San examined his friend from head to toe. “Wanna arm wrestle and see who wins this time?”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” you laughed, knowing you weren’t ready for Wooyoung’s high-pitched screaming that followed every time he lost to someone in anything. Yunho caught your eye and he motioned for you to join him and Hongjoong. 

“I see you two are getting along,” Hongjoong scoffed. “How’s your ankle?”

“I think I’ll skip next week too,” you rotated your ankle and winced when it stung. “Why do you both look so serious anyway?”

“Yunho’s just worried if everyone’s having a good time, and you and Wooyoung always make sure he’s in a constant state of worry,” Hongjoong shook his head in disappointment and Yunho laughed.

“No, it’s not that,” Yunho shook his hands. “He’s right about me being worried though. Are you having a good time?”

“Minus Wooyoung, of course I am,” you smiled. “I haven’t felt like this in a long time, and I’m sure we all needed a break. So you-” you patted Yunho’s arm. “Stop worrying and have a good time too. You can relax with us- we’re all friends here.”

“I also wanted to tell you something,” Yunho took a deep breath. “Princess Haeun of Halaland is arriving tonight.”

You didn’t hide your sour expressions. “I thought she wasn’t going to make it?”

“Seems like she is,” Yunho glanced at Hongjoong. “Will you be alright?”

“Of course I will be,” you answered. “Our issue with Halaland won’t influence my behaviour with the Princess, but you do remember we used to be friends before she started pretending we’re strangers, right?”

“Yeah, I’m not on the best terms with her either,” Yunho nodded. “I don’t know why she suddenly decided to come. I thought she would decline for sure since I was the one who sent the invitations.”

“She’s probably got something up her sleeve,” Hongjoong considered. “Let’s not let her get to us, though, shall we?”

But the moment the Princess entered the Great Hall and paused to search the crowd and stopped when she met your eyes, you knew the sinking of your heart was something you couldn’t ignore. She smirked and resumed walking, Yunho dutifully leaving the table to greet her and you turned towards the rest.

“You all saw that, right?” You looked at Yeosang and Jongho who were in front of you. Yeosang nodded.

“Maybe she’s just happy to see you,” Jongho teased.

“You’re thinking too much,” Wooyoung chipped in, stealing the last chicken nugget from your plate and you gasped as he put it in his mouth. “That’s just how she always looks like.”

“First of all, how dare you steal my nugget? And no, she doesn’t. She specifically met my eyes and gave me an evil smile. You’re blind if you didn’t see that.”

“You call that an evil smile?” Wooyoung laughed, looking around him. “Has anyone ever seen her smile?”

“You-”

“Shh,” Yunho slid in his place next to you, waving a dismissive hand. “You all attract too much attention. I’ll send you home if you keep acting like this.”

“Tell me you saw her evil-smirk at me,” you asked and Yunho looked around the table to make sure no one but your group of friends was listening.

“I think I did,” he finally gave in. “She’s weird. She specifically asked how you were doing- she doesn’t care enough to ask about you as soon as she arrives.”

“See?” You turned to Wooyoung, having proven your point, who fell silent. “She’s gonna have a bigger problem with me now. Especially after the events of last year.” 

“Just ignore her, you’ll be fine,” Wooyoung finally said, downing his drink. 

“It’s hard to ignore someone who has a habit of getting disrespectful with others,” you muttered, sighing deeply. Wooyoung and the others were no strangers to your rocky relationship with the Princess of Halaland. Others would dismiss it as something similar to your relation with Wooyoung, but he was your friend. He held no malicious intentions towards you, no matter how harsh he could be with his jokes. 

“Just come to me if she tries something, okay?” Wooyoung locked eyes with you. “I know exactly how to shut her up.”

You looked at Wooyoung, surprised, while your group of friends hooted loudly at that.

And there it was. Wooyoung was always the first one to protect you. No matter how much you hated his guts, at times like this your heart fluttered, so you simply nodded and told the boys to shut up, unable to meet Wooyoung’s gaze for the rest of the night.

—------------------------

You wondered who had the brilliant idea of assigning your seat diagonally across Princess Haeun in the history class because so far, so not good.

“I think we can all agree that Eden has a history of dirty politics,” Haeun began, glancing casually at you while you rested your chin in your hand, rolling your eyes at her. “Considering how only a decade ago, Eden almost called war on the Allied Kingdoms, shouldn’t it be clear that Eden does not really deserve a seat at the Peace Council?”

“Uh, I think that wasn’t Eden-” San began but was cut when Haeun continued.

“The Peace Council’s foundation is threatened by Eden’s presence in the council, in my humble opinion- no offence to the Princess,” Haeun pasted her trademark smirk over her face and you glanced across the room- quite a few youngsters looked doubtful by her confidence- or maybe your lack thereof. “I think the members of the Peace Council should be the kingdoms who condemn war, not condone it.”

“That’s, uh… an interesting stance you have there,” Jongho, who was voted to be the unbiased fact-checker/host for the day, said. “Anyone who would like to present an opposing argument?”

“I think,” you began, raising your hand and continuing when Jongho gave you the heads-up. “I think that Princess Haeun facts are biassed. Of course, everyone is entitled to their opinions but I think the fact that the Allied Kingdoms were scheming to stop the trade from our shared seas… that calls for a threat or two, doesn’t it?”

“And as the oldest members of the Peace Council,” San was smirking, “Shouldn’t they have been resolving this issue ‘peacefully’ rather than this hostile approach which would clearly threaten the well-being of the residents of Eden?”

“What well-being, pray tell, would be threatened if the route was temporarily closed due to conflict? I’m sure Eden is capable enough to flourish trades with its neighbouring kingdoms rather than relying on the ones far away.”

“Conflict of the Allied Kingdoms and Halaland with Neverland, with whom we have maintained trade for as long as the kingdoms have existed,” You looked at Yuju. “Remind me again how our kingdoms would have been affected had the route been closed?”

“I think we’re all sensible enough to figure that out, aren’t we?” Yuju smirked. “Between the time to contact all kingdoms and begin trade, the damage… not only to Eden but to Neverland as well. I think it’s okay when it’s someone else.”

“Besides,” Wooyoung’s voice filled the room and you turned to look at his rather relaxed figure as he rubbed his nose, looking uninterested. “It’s rich coming from you when you sided with the Allied Kingdoms when things looked bleak for Eden. As the members of the ‘Peace’ Council, shouldn’t you have been, I don’t know, trying to do something for peace instead of something that would have surely instigated war?”

The look on Haeun’s face made you want to get up and kiss Wooyoung even if the thought somewhat repelled you. You turned to Jongho who was also trying to hide his satisfaction. “That’s right. As members of the Peace Council, I think whatever decisions made should have a peaceful outcome. If old dealings are disturbed, that would surely put anyone in a tight spot. Eden could have been less hostile, but the Allied Kingdoms and Halaland didn’t give them much of a choice in the first place.”

“Which is why no one really deserves the seat at the Peace Council,” Yunho concluded. “No one’s a saint. I think we should stop with the history lessons here and plan the ball for tomorrow, what do you say?”

The room burst into a chorus of cheers and you watched Haeun sulk in her seat while one of her friends tried to comfort her and shot nasty looks at you. You almost flipped the finger at them but you got distracted when Wooyoung took the empty seat behind you.

“You almost lost your composure back there, Princess.”

“Glad you decided to contribute with your valuable opinion,” you muttered.

“Know why?” He leaned forward, tucking your hair back. “I would like to be the only one who can rile you up. That’s why I’ll make sure I put Haeun in her place.”

You smacked Wooyoung’s hand away. “What sort of twisted logic is that? As much as I appreciate you trying to show Haeun her place, I think I can handle her. In fact, I think I should team up with her this time- she looks like she could kill you, not me.”

Wooyoung glanced at Haeun who indeed looked quite angry at Wooyoung. Perhaps, because they were neighbouring kingdoms, Haeun had expected Wooyoung to take her side but she couldn’t have been more wrong- Wooyoung had only one reason to side with you, and that was to have the upper hand. As if to prove that, he tilted his head. “Can’t handle me?”

“Sorry, no,” you made a disgusted face but then spotted San getting chummy with a shy girl in the corner- perhaps the princess of one of the kingdoms of the Allied. “Would you look at that?”

Wooyoung turned and chuckled when he saw the sight. “I guess he’s looking for a dance partner for tomorrow.”

“You got one?”

“Not yet,” he glanced at you. “And you?”

“I forgot that was a thing, honestly,” you sighed. “I don’t think anyone would be interested in me other than as a last option.”

“Now why would you think that?” Wooyoung tsk-ed. “You don’t lack anything- you’re pretty, you’re intelligent, you’ve got the dirtiest mouth, you can put a man in a chokehold-”

“That’s exactly why,” you grinned, ignoring the rush you got when you heard the first two compliments. “I think everyone’s scared of me, especially since I’m always surrounded by one of you idiots.”

“Well, Princess of Eden, you’re my first choice. Will you go to the dance with me?”

“No way in hell,” you countered, watching Wooyoung give in and burst out laughing. “Who placed the bets?”

“Those idiots,” Wooyoung pointed at Mingi and Yeosang- Yeosang seemed to have won as he pocketed some cash from a sulking Mingi. “I do love how quick you are. That makes you more attractive than you actually are, which isn’t much-”

“And that’s your cue to shut up. Wanna make another bet?”

“I’m all ears,” he leaned forward. 

“Haeun is going to say yes when you ask her to the ball,” you smirked.

Wooyoung raised a brow. “What makes you think I’d ask her in the first place?” 

“Because she keeps looking at you like she’d like to fuck you up- and not in a bad way,” You winked at him. “And… because she’d do anything to make me jealous.”

“Yeah, because everyone thinks we’re a thing,” Wooyoung nodded in understanding, shaking his head. 

“Doesn’t help when you’re… like this,” you said pointedly, glancing at the rest of the room who were all busy planning for tomorrow, leaving only the two of you interested in each other. “So?”

“So, I’d like to make another bet,” Wooyoung leaned forward, only the desk separating you two. “I know I’ll lose this one, but if Haeun makes the first move on me… you’ll be my date for the ball next weekend.”

“Ew, why would I agree to that?” You frowned. “And why would you want to take me?”

“I don’t like Haeun, you know I don’t. I won’t make the first move, but if she tries anything funny with me, I get to take you next weekend. And if she doesn’t, you have the choice of rejecting me.”

“Sometimes I wonder what you’ve stuffed in your skull to come up with things like that, but okay. I’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t make the first move-”

“Hey, no cheating!” Wooyoung practically shouted, getting up. “It’s time to seduce her. I need to lose the first bet to take you to the dance next weekend after all.”

You weren’t sure if you were regretting agreeing or ever coming up with the first bet, but whatever it was, you were more confused about the way Wooyoung had looked at you right before leaving.

—--------------------

You were wondering what disgusted you more- the sight of Haeun fluttering her lashes at Wooyoung as she danced with him, putting on the fakest smile you’d seen on a human, and pretending to act surprised at times– or, the sight of Wooyoung who had his hands on Haeun’s waists, who was whispering things in her ears, who looked pleased whenever he made her laugh. You really couldn’t decide.

“People are going to think you’re jealous,” Yunho poked your back and you cursed as you twisted in surprise. 

“I thought it was obvious that I am disgusted?”

“You keep telling yourself that, hon’,” Yunho shook his head. “Dance with me?”

You shrugged but accepted, getting up and straightening your midnight blue gown, glad you weren’t in a puffy peach dress like Haeun was- it was kind of making her look washed out. You took Yunho’s hand and he led you to the dance floor, the two of you taking up your positions and comfortably falling in a rhythm while you both observed the surroundings.

“You have eyes on you,” you said. “Who’s the lady in the black gown? Look at her when we turn.”

“Ah,” Yunho smirked and you raised a brow. “That’s the one I’m trying to impress tonight.”

“I think you’re doing a good job then,” you approved, smiling. “Do try not to smile like an idiot or she’ll catch on.”

“What, so I should play hard-to-get like you do?” Yunho looked at you.

“When have I ever played hard-to-get?”

“Isn’t that what you have been doing for so long now?” Yunho sighed. “I think you’re not even aware.”

“You’re not making any sense-”

“Wooyoung.”

You made a guttural sound at that. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Tell me what you think about him.”

“I don’t think about him, he disgusts me,” you muttered. Yunho winced.

“Try again. You’re too harsh, Princess.”

“Yunho,” you rolled your eyes. “Are you going to pretend you haven't known me since we were children? That you don’t know how Wooyoung and I have been since ages ago?”

“You used to be inseparable, you still kinda are,” he was grinning and you resisted the urge to kick his leg. “Problem is, you’re a bit too confused. Maybe you more than him. He seems to have figured it out-”

“Shut up,” you groaned. “You’re just trying to confuse me. Who placed bets this time?”

“No one,” Yunho stopped as the music ended and really looked at you. “It must be fun to act like you hate each other, but if you decide to drop the act… there are plenty of empty rooms in the west chamber where you two could-”

“And that’s my cue to get some air and wonder why I ever agreed to dance with you,” you curtsied him as the dance ended and he laughed, calling, ‘I know I’m right about this!’ as you steered yourself to the end of the ballroom to grab a drink. You encountered a few guests on the way who greeted you and made small talk, and by the time you had downed that drink, you were anxious to get some air. 

You decided to find the balcony at the other end of the room- the one that would probably have no audience at this time. As you reached the door, you spotted none other than Wooyoung and Haeun through the window, Haeun explaining something to Wooyoung while he nodded nonchalantly. You wondered what they were talking about but you noticed Yuju waving at you from the side and you decided you’d rather busy yourself with the girls than to think of what Yunho said which would surely haunt you at night-

And haunt it did when you had finally been free of the endless greetings and the mini-meeting with Hongjoong and Seonghwa to decide the schedule for the weekend and prepared to go to bed. It was way past midnight and you had just finished dressing into your black nightgown, pulling a wrap over it and taking your cup of chamomile tea to the window to drink in peace but found yourself plagued with thoughts of a certain someone.

As if the devils had planned your fate for the night themselves, you found Wooyoung looking up at you from the garden where he was alone. You almost hid out of instinct but he had seen you so you just waved awkwardly. He looked around and motioned for you to come down, but you shook your head, showing him your cup of tea- he was no stranger to your night habits. But then he motioned that he was coming to you, and you considered declining but then nodded, though, after he left, you wondered if you had the capacity to get into a vocal-battle with Wooyoung at this hour.

You opened the door and let him in, sighing when you took in his figure- he still hadn’t changed and was dressed in a three-piece, the buttons now undone and exposing quite a lot. You cleared your throat. “If you’re here to mock me or something, you can leave right now.”

“I’m here for the tea,” he sounded tired.

“Long night?” You asked as you shut the door and motioned for him to take a seat while you mixed the tea for him. “You looked like you were having fun.”

Wooyoung glanced at you, slumping further down the couch. “I did have fun when Haeun was not pretending to be someone else other than who she is. I mean- why pretend?”

“That’s what girls do when they aim to seduce someone,” you fluttered your lashes at him. “Like this?”

He let out a low laugh. “She’s actually not such a bad person when she’s being normal.”

“Oh, so you like her then?” You handed him the tea. 

“Not any more than I did earlier,” he said and you frowned in confusion. “Oh, and I won the bet, by the way.”

You made an impressed face. “She made the first move?”

He frowned in confusion. “You didn’t see her?”

“Was I supposed to witness that? Because that’s disgusting- oh.”

Wooyoung sipped the tea. “I should feel elated that I won the bet, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel good to be used. She spotted you near the balcony and that’s when she tried to kiss me. She thought I wouldn’t notice but I spotted you before her.”

“Just so we’re clear, I was only there to get some air but as soon as I saw the two of you, I backed away. It looked like you were having a… private conversation.”

“You should have joined,” Wooyoung shifted to turn towards you. “All she talked about was you.”

“Really?” You smirked, turning towards him too, not a lot of distance between you two. “All good things, I hope.”

Wooyoung chuckled, sipping again. “You looked good tonight, but I’ll be sending you a dress for next weekend. It’s going to be a masquerade ball- I know Yunho loves that shit. We’ll match.”

“Look at you,” you shook your head. “Your eyes always light up when you’re planning my demise. And I have plenty of dresses.”

“I know exactly what I want to see you in,” he let his eyes travel across your body and you suddenly felt conscious. 

“Are you drunk?” You frowned. “You’re babbling.”

“But you’re blushing,” Wooyoung was smirking shamelessly. “I wonder why.”

“That’s from the second hand embarrassment I’m getting from you,” you countered, cursing yourself internally. “Stop being a creep.”

“You know you love me,” he clicked his cup of tea with yours before drinking. You made an unimpressed face. 

“Oh, by the way, I forgot to give you this earlier-” he finished in his pocket, producing a small box.

“Wow, are you proposing to me?” You teased. “I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you, I-” he paused, shaking his head and opening the box to reveal a necklace with a teardrop turquoise shining in the middle. “Mom sent this for you.”

“You better finish that sentence, Wooyoung, I dare you to,” you muttered as you took the necklace from him and examined it. “Wow. This is beautiful.”

“My mom has always had a good eye for things,” he looked proud. “I just wonder why she wastes it on getting things for you-”

“I’ll thank her myself,” you interrupted, getting up and going to the mirror next to the fireplace, unlocking the necklace and wearing it on your neck- or trying to but you couldn’t find the clasp so you just settled at examining how it looked, but-

“Let me,” Wooyoung muttered- you hadn’t even heard him come behind you. You felt the brush of his fingers on the back of your neck and you suppressed the shiver it would have sent down your spine. “There,” he said, his hands back on your shoulders as he looked at your reflection in the mirror. “Perfect.”

You weren’t looking at the necklace anymore- you were watching him slide his hands down your arms. “You look like something’s bothering you.”

He glanced at you from the mirror. “Something is.”

He didn’t say what, but you felt him take another step towards you so your back was flush against his body. This time, you didn’t stop the shudder, especially when he held your hands in his and rested his cheek against your head. “Like what you see?”

You couldn’t think- sure, this was a very Wooyoung thing to do. But this time, the two of you were alone, there were no bets in question- as far as you knew- and you hadn’t really been arguing like you had been pretty much the entire week. “What are you doing?”

You hated how it almost came as a whisper but he didn’t seem to care. He let the tip of his nose trail down your temple, squeezing your hands as his lips trailed down your neck, making you push your head back to give him more access, and then-

Then he kissed what had to be your sweet spot- you moaned more in surprise than in pleasure because how could he know when it was his first time? The sound seemed to have pleased him though, because he started nibbling at the spot, his arms wrapping around you, your hands still in his. He made a sound too as he shifted, his hair falling on your slightly exposed chest. You couldn’t help but watch the entire thing which perhaps made your nerves more heightened, your legs weakening with each passing second, and just when you were about to lose your footing, he drew back and helped you stand up, examining what he had done.

“Nice,” he licked his lips. “Goes well with the necklace. Now you can show them both off proudly.”

You gaped at him, the spot quickly turning a deeper shade of purple. Taking a deep breath, you mustered the deadliest glare. “Jung Wooyoung, you absolute-”

“Come on,” he shook his head, having grabbed your wrist that was in the air to punch his chest. With his other hand tucked under your chin, he ran his thumb on your lower lip and drew closer to whisper in your ear. “You liked every second of it.”

With a final kiss to your cheek, he drew back with the cockiest smile you had ever seen him wear, and waved goodbye as he left the room, leaving you standing in the middle of it and trying to control the overwhelming sensations that ripped through your body in his absence. You finally made it to the couch, slumping down, because-

Just what had he done? 

And why did you like it so much?

—---------------------

You weren’t sure if Wooyung was avoiding you but things were pretty, abnormally peaceful, which was saying something. Perhaps he knew you were out to murder him the first chance you got, but the weekend passed by rather peacefully and you even had a girls only sleepover where you gossiped all night, sharing stories and pampering each other.

And that was when, in the middle of massaging your shoulder, Yuju had noticed the telltale fade of Wooyoung’s mark.

“Now what is that-” she had begun but you shut her up, promising to explain it later and then avoiding her for the next two days until it was Tuesday and you finally met your group of friends in the evening for board games, where both Yuju and Wooyoung were present.

You paused in the middle of the room, Seonghwa and Hongjoong beside you. “Can we go home now?”

The duo turned to look at you once, ignoring you as they joined the rest, making you take a deep breath and walk to Yuju who wasn’t sitting too far from Wooyoung.

“I knew you couldn’t avoid me forever,” Yuju looked a bit too pleased to see you. “Wooyoung and I were just chatting. He said he missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you called to him, deciding at that moment that there was no way in hell you were letting Wooyoung get the better of you, and that retribution would come. He turned and acknowledged you with a nod, his glance going to where the mark would have been, carefully concealed now. “In fact, my hands have been itching since that night of the ball.”

“Ah, I feel shy,” Wooyoung hid behind San and Yuju laughed sarcastically. “What do you aim to do? Do not try to make a move on me-”

“Your mind ought to be cleansed,” San slapped Wooyoung’s neck and you laughed. 

“Hold up- the night of the ball?” Yuju raised a brow. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Nothing-”

“Something-”

“Jung Wooyoung,” you warned, turning to Yuju. “You know how he is. He’s trying to turn me clinically insane.”

“I’m clinically insane… for you too,” Wooyoung threw a wink and the three of you gasped. 

“San, please take him away from me before I grab something sharp and end this once and for all,” you begged and San chuckled, practically dragging him across the room and you felt like you could finally breathe, though, now that he was in front of you, you both kept exchanging death glares and talking in your own sign language. 

While Yunho explained the rules of the first game and you saw Wooyoung watching you instead of listening to Yunho, you flipped your finger at him and he blew a kiss at you, which probably the entire room saw. You stifled a groan and heard a disgusted sigh-

“Get a room, you two.”

You turned to the source- Haeun, who was sitting near you. You rolled your eyes, not bothering to respond but when she muttered something to her friends and they all laughed at you, you turned to her, ignoring Yuju who tried to stop you.

“Get a room, you said, huh?” You asked in a low voice, glancing at Yunho who was explaining something to the youngsters, and then at Wooyoung who had his eyes on you. “Too bad you couldn’t get one that night.”

Haeun’s friends collectively gasped at that and she actually looked offended. “What would you know about that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I guess Wooyoung was bored enough to come find me. You know we hate each other’s guts. What does that say for you?”

Haeun scoffed. “I’m not interested in him. Go ahead- he’s all yours.”

“Oh, she says she’s not interested in him,” you turned to Yuju. “Does she want me to wipe that horrible image of her fluttering her lashes at Wooyoung during their dance? Because that would need some help-”

“You-”

“Ladies,” Yunho warned with a smile- only you knew that smile meant he’d had enough, though to the others he still looked calm. “The games are starting. Are we good?”

You straightened and nodded and Haeun did the same. Yunho distributed the cards and you played with your respective groups- yours against Haeun’s. The plan was to play in groups of 6 and compete with each other until 2 remained.

Haeun looked confident, but if there was one thing you were good at, it was at catching lies. You had always been observant enough to notice that one particular thing they did when they lied, which gave them away.

And you knew Haeun would always scratch somewhere on her skin before lying. The game of bluff was easier, especially with Yuju and Eunha by your side who were better at card games than you, so your team took on a winning streak.

A few hours later, only your team and Wooyoung’s team remained and you sat across from each other. You looked at Yunho and Jongho. “This team has all the luck, it seems.”

“I think we should announce our defeat here,” Eunha joked. Yunho’s luck wasn’t something that anyone took lightly.

“Come on,” he laughed. “We have 3 rounds. Anything could happen- and you two are good at this. I don’t know why you teamed up with y/n though, she kind of sucks at games…”

“Not this one,” you challenged. “Don’t tell them why.”

“I guess you’re feeling cocky today,” Wooyoung locked eyes with you. “Maybe we should have met in private before coming to the games. I’m not sure how confident you would have been then.”

“I’m not sure you would have made it here then,” you scoffed. “And neither would I have. I’d be busy cleaning up the murder scene.”

“Oh please, you two,” Jongho shook his head. “So stupid. Let’s start.”

The thing about Wooyoung was, you knew him inside out. He had taught you all the games that you knew today, so you knew how he played as well. You only needed to feel Wooyoung out- you were pretty sure that you would make it.

Halfway through the game, Wooyoung couldn’t believe his ears as you called out every bluff of not only him but Yunho as well. Jongho was a little hard to crack. “I’m your mentor, you can’t do this to me!”

You downed another drink that Hongjoong passed you, who loved seeing Wooyoung miserable. “Kill him, y/n.”

“Got it,” you laughed, glancing at the audience around you. Yunho scolded a sulky Wooyoung and told him to man up for the second round, where they could turn the tables if they won, otherwise it was going to be a clean victory for you.

You relaxed, observing your opponents. Your strategy for the this round was to target Wooyoung. After all, you had revenge to take. You dealt the cards and you let them pass twice before noticing Wooyoung picking at his earlobe. You stifled a smile and watched him place two cards on the table.

“Two nines,” he declared and looked at you.

“That’s a bluff,” you told him.

“Are you sure about that?” He leaned forward, smirking. And there it was- his defence mechanism.

“I’m calling it.”

Yuju tapped your arm to make you think again but you ignored her. You looked at Yunho. “Go ahead and check.”

Yunho laughed in defeat before he announced the cards, and while the rest cheered, Wooyoung and you found yourself in a staring contest. He couldn’t help but smile- he liked when you were in your element.

“How can you always tell when I’m lying?” He finally asked when everyone started to scatter.

“You have this very obvious thing you do when you lie. Not going to tell you,” you said.

“Well, you won,” Wooyoung clapped. “What do you want?”

He was talking about the bet you had placed earlier- fulfilling a wish if you won. You grinned, “I’ll save it for later.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow. “Got some plans, I see.”

“Yeah,” you leaned forward. “I have a few, yes.”

“Well, at least you’ll stop avoiding me then?” He asked casually and you shrugged.

“Who said I was avoiding you?”

“Come on,” he scoffed, getting up and motioning at the table with the snacks. “You missed horse riding yesterday.”

“My ankle is still healing,” you told him. “I wanted to sleep in.”

“And you didn’t come to have dinner with us on Sunday.”

“I had to answer letters from home- wait, why am I even giving an explanation?” You took a bite of a chocolate chip cookie. “What makes you think I’d want to see you on purpose? My whole life has been navigating around ways to avoid you-”

Wooyoung scoffed. “I distinctly remember you watching me do that to you in the mirror,” he pointed towards where the fading bruise had been concealed with makeup. “You didn’t push me back. I wonder why.”

“Maybe because I was having a hard time processing exactly what you were trying to do,” you tugged at the necklace he had put on you subconsciously. 

“Want me to test your processing speed again?” Wooyoung grinned and you gaped at him.

“You know, that’s enough cockiness. I bet you’d be whimpering if I did that to you.”

“Ah, you think too highly of yourself, but I’m open if you want to test that theory-”

You laughed in disbelief. “What’s got you so horny these days, Wooyoung? Haven’t had a good fuck for a while?”

Wooyoung poked his tongue in his cheek- a sure sign that now he was turned on, and somehow, after realising just what you had said, you felt your ears heat up. “No. No I haven’t. And you look like you haven’t either.”

“I’m good,” you muttered. “Now get your head out of the gutter.”

“Well,” he drew closer, glancing around. Everyone seemed to be busy so he stood behind you just like he had that night and you found yourself frozen in your spot. He leaned forwards, one arm going around your waist and keeping you flush to himself while the other picked a chocolate from the table that he popped in his mouth. Your flush got deeper when you realised that the hard thing poking at your back wasn’t his flashy metallic belt. He whispered in your ear, “I know you’re holding yourself back, Princess. I know exactly what you want to do to me. I’m just telling you that you can. I’d like to be ruined by you.”

With that, he drew back and you almost lost your footing as you gathered yourself, unable to meet his eyes because yes, you hadn’t been the best at hiding the scandalous, borderline unholy flashes that crossed your mind whenever Wooyoung did something or acted some way. It took you a while to realise that only Wooyoung was capable of riling you up to the extent that you’d want to show him his place in that way. 

But right now, you were more pissed because how could he do that to you when everyone was right here? You glared at him but he only winked at you, waving goodbye and turning-

“Oh, no, you’re not,” you grabbed his arm. “You’re coming with me.”

“Oh, my,” Wooyoung grinned. “If anyone sees us, what are they going to think?”

“Like I give two shits about that,” you dragged him out of the room, praying no one would question your absence, though people would surely notice the absence of Wooyoung since he was, well, noisy to put it nicely. “This is the west chamber, right?”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung was now walking beside you, his arm still in your hand. “Why?”

“Yunho mentioned there were empty rooms here, with some torturing instruments,” you muttered and he laughed out loud. “Perhaps I should test them to see if they’re still functioning.”

“Nice idea. I’m thinking spiked cuffs, neck collars-”

You tried the door of the first room but it was locked. The second was unlocked and you stopped, realising if you stepped in, you couldn’t back out-

“Having second thoughts already?”

“You are driving me insane,” you groaned, pulling him in and locking the door. You took a few deep breaths and looked around the room- pretty plain but you dragged a chair and made him sit so you could stand and point your finger at him.

“Stop looking so amused. Tell me what exactly is your problem. How dare you do that to me?” You watched Wooyoung’s smile fall. “Do you want me to tell Hongjoong? Because he’s gonna kill you if he learns you’re playing with me-”

“Who said I’m playing?” His voice was serious. “I just like to see you all riled up like that-”

“Oh?” You put your hands on your hips as you stared at his bulge. “You like to see me riled up? Does that turn you on, Wooyoung? Maybe I should give Haeun some pointers-”

You shut up when Wooyoung casually put his hand on top of his bulge and gave it a rub, licking his lips as he looked at you. You shook your head, stepping towards him, ignoring the red alert in your brain that told you none of this made sense, but there was one thing about you- you didn’t believe in eye for an eye, you believed in doing worse in retribution.

And Wooyoung had no right making you feel that way. So you put your hand under his chin, making him look up at you. “Look at you. Practically on your knees for me, aren’t you?”

“Not yet, Princess,” he shook his head. “You’ll be on your knees before me.”

“You wanna bet on that, pretty boy?” You cocked your head, running your thumb over his lips and when they parted, you slid it in and watched him suck it. He could still taste the chocolate you had just been eating. You took it out, trailing it down his chin and down the neck, putting your hand around his neck and examining how it looked, squeezing it a little to make his mouth part for air. “My hands make a nice enough necklace, I think.”

“Are you going to give me something that’d go along with it?” His voice was husky.

“Do you want me to?” You asked, testing his patience and you saw his eyes glaze. He gave you a subtle nod and you drew closer until your noses were brushing, giving his neck a little squeeze as you trailed your lips to his ears and whispered-

“Then beg for it.”

Wooyoung groaned, grabbing your free hand and keeping you in your place. You let your lips trail down his neck for good measure before drawing away and seeing the desperation in his eyes. You scoffed. “You’ve got the look right. You just need to say it out loud, Prince.”

“You know I could make you beg for that right now, don’t you?” He asked and you shrugged. “I’m only letting you do this because I want you to.”

“Oh? Submissive tonight, are we?” You laughed, cupping his face and kissing right next to his lips. “There’s your reward.”

There was a moment of pause where you both contemplated just what had happened before Wooyoung finally lost it and decided to have his way with you- he got up quicker than you could process and had your face in his hands and was kissing you like a man deprived of air and you were quicker to respond by parting your mouth and letting his tongue in for a heated kiss, your hands fisting his collar for support. You moaned loudly in the kiss and he swallowed it, not giving you a moment to breathe as he led you to the wall so he could lean down and angle his face better in the kiss.

If you began to wonder what you were feeling, you could only explain it as something inside you breaking free, some wall that had been there falling down- something like that. Your brain was mush, your heart feeling things you had never felt before, but what you felt most was the unmistakable desire coursing through you. You broke the kiss and gasped for air as he rested his forehead against yours, repeatedly pecking your lips while you caught your breath.

“You’re… insane,” you breathed and he chuckled deeply, brushing his nose with yours and making you bite your lips as you resisted doing something stupid- but maybe… maybe now you could. 

After all, you two couldn’t simply go back from here so while you were at it… you could enjoy it.

And see him suffer, the voice in your head said. You smirked, fisting his shirt and pushing him away, shaking your head as you pushed him back until he sat down on the bed and you got on top of him. He was about to hold your leg and position it to his preference but you muttered a ‘nuh-uh’, instead making him spread his legs so you could press your knee lightly on his bulge and as he moaned, you kissed him for a few moments, one hand supporting you on top of him while the other slowly crept behind his neck and tugged at his long hair when you broke the kiss.

You examined how he looked in that moment- lids heavy, lips parted and wanting more, throat bobbing- you scoffed and grabbed his tied hair, fisting it so you could angle him as you finally started kissing his neck and found the sweet spot when you felt his bulge twitch under your knee’s pressure. You started licking and nibbling there without holding back- he needed to feel more than what he had made you feel, so you made sure you made him groan multiple times as you planted the mark. Somewhere between it, his hand had travelled to your waist and was squeezing your hips- you tried to ignore it but your core was throbbing very painfully now. 

You finished your work and admired it, making Wooyoung laugh in disbelief. “All this for revenge?”

“What can I say?” You smacked your lips. “You gave me something to look forward to.”

Wooyoung bit his lip out of habit and considered the fact that you were still pressing your knee where he wanted to. Before he could do something about it, though, you drew away, brushing your clothes. 

“We’re done here,” you told him and he stifled his groan- he liked what game you were playing with him and he was not going to be the one to admit defeat first. 

“For now?” He dared ask.

You licked your lips as you scanned him ever so slowly and nodded. “That’s on you. This- what happened tonight? That’s on you too. Don’t get any ideas, and remember-” you pointed your finger at him but then decided against it, lowering it. “Remember- this means nothing.”

You weren’t sure if the look that passed Wooyoung was hurt or regret but he needed to realise that if he had started this game with you, he was going to be the one who'd decide his fate. “This means nothing… unless I want it to mean something, right?”

You didn’t answer that, but it looked like he had understood, so you told him not to follow you before leaving the room and going straight to your own, going to the sink and washing your face with cold water and gripping the sink as you looked at your reflection in the mirror.

Oh, how you had wanted to let him do things to you, but…

But Wooyoung understood. He had taken the first step, dissolving the unmistakable sexual tension between you two that had been there for years now. He had risked it all, and your response had been unexpected but now that he thought about it, it was something you’d do, and deep down, he knew it. He knew that you hated losing. If he had simply kissed you and confessed that he was interested in you, you would never have responded because of the strange love-hate relationship you two had for years now.

Friends, you called yourselves. Were you friends? Yes, but did friends do this type of stuff? Probably not, he laughed to himself as he recalled when something had possessed him to mark you. He just couldn’t resist it when you wore the necklace that he had chosen for you. Yes, it was from his mother, but he was always the one who picked the gifts for you. Would you have worn it if you knew?

As he lay down to sleep, he was plagued with such questions for most of the night and he wondered if he could stop things here or take the next step and find himself falling in dangerous, perhaps unwelcomed territories.

—--------------------

It looked like Wooyoung was taking his sweet time deciding just what he wanted. You didn’t avoid him anymore. In fact, you two were pretty normal around each other now, occasionally arguing like always, sometimes teaming up to bully one of your friends- just the usual. You were bullying San right now because he seemed to have a few loose memory screws.

“Forget world history, San, you don’t even remember your own life history,” you laughed. “You really don’t remember that time you held a whole debate about butts being what- one?”

“I think he insisted on two,” Wooyoung laughed. “Honestly, I kind of agree.”

“No, we’re not doing this,” Yunho shook his head aggressively. “Look at this-” he raised his hands in the air and you choked on laughter. “One buttcheek and the other- there are two buttcheeks but they belong to one butt-”

“It’s not that deep!” You laughed. “We’ve done this before, so let’s shut up now- there are people watching, and for goodness’ sake, Wooyoung, grab Yunho’s hands- he’s making weird gestures.”

Wooyoung pulled Yunho’s hands down, all of you laughing. You noticed the girl Yunho was interested in watching him from the other end of the room and you kicked his leg from under the table. “Still not asked her to the dance tomorrow?”

Yunho’s eyes went wide in realisation. “I was so busy planning the thing that I forgot I had to attend too!”

San shook his head in disappointment and Wooyoung urged him to go and ask someone out. Yunho looked at the rest of you. “Who are you going with?”

“Yuju,” San said and you raised your brows- that was news. “No, it’s nothing like that,” he laughed. “We just waited too long to ask who we actually wanted to, so we plan to catch their attention tomorrow night.”

“Ah, what interesting lives you’re living,” you sighed dramatically. 

“Who are you going with anyway?” Yunho asked.

“Lost a bet and now I have to accompany him tomorrow.”

San laughed but Yunho seemed to have caught on. “I see… He doesn’t seem too sad about it.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” you challenged. “Any chance to torment me, he happily takes.”

“Eh, come on,” Wooyoung poked your thigh. “It’s not that bad.”

“You tell yourself that,” you said dismissively. “You better not send me a sack tonight.”

“You’d look pretty in a sack though,” Wooyoung said quite seriously.

“Ew,” San got up. “Stop flirting with her every chance you get, Wooyoung.”

“I’m going to ask her,” Yunho got up. “Wish me luck!”

You watched the duo scatter and you glared at Wooyoung. “I’m serious. Don’t send something stupid.”

“I won’t. I’ve got this brilliant, most seductive red dress that I just have to see you in-”

“I’ll tear it to pieces if I think it’s too much,” you promised and he laughed, getting up and purposefully squeezed your shoulder before exiting the room. You froze for a second but then noticed Haeun eyeing you and mouthed an aggressive ‘what?’ before turning to find the girls.

That night, you found a box in your room with a note attached to it. You ignored the note and opened the box, revealing a red, flowy dress and you wowed when you took it to the mirror and saw how good it looked on you. If Wooyoung had chosen it for you personally, he really did have a good eye. You called a maid and wore the dress to see if it needed any alterations, but it was a surprisingly perfect fit save for the shoulders which could be fixed with a stitch.

“Wherever did you find someone who knows exactly what would look good on you?” The maid sighed dreamily. 

“I think he just got lucky,” you laughed.

“I think he knew exactly what he was doing,” she winked at you, finishing the stitching and taking her leave. You sat down with a glass of water and noticed the attached note and considered burning it but then curiosity took the better of you and you opened it-

“The only reason I got this for you is so that I can take it off for you tomorrow night.”

You bit your lip to stifle your smile as you looked up in disbelief, cursing yourself internally at the way your stomach did a flip after reading that. You even considered getting rid of the dress, but it would be such a shame-

And truly, when you wore it and got ready, hair tied messily in a bun with loose tendrils framing the mask on your face, red painted on your lips, you had to admit- Wooyoung had you wrapped around his fingers. He was messing with your mind- no wonder you got so dolled up for him.

So the only thing you could do tonight was to not let him get the better of you. When he knocked on your door, you composed yourself and opened it but all composure broke when he grinned shamelessly.

“You look like a hyena when you smile like that,” you commented, about to step out but he held your wrist and got you both inside so quickly that before you knew it, he had pinned you against the door. 

“You have no idea how crazy you’re making me right now,” he whispered against your ear and you kicked his shin lightly, making him wince as you stepped away.

“Enough of that. We have a ball to attend,” you went to the mirror to look at yourself for the last time. “Wear your mask.”

“I couldn’t tie it properly, so I was hoping you could pin it for me,” he dragged a seat in front of you and sat on it, handing you the mask. You rolled your eyes but grabbed a few pins from the mantle before coming back to assess the situation.

“You should get a haircut,” you said, running your hands through his hair as you tied it in a half pony, letting the bangs from the front loose. 

“First thing when I get home,” he said and you nodded, fixing his mask and asking him if it fit well before tying it and then pinning it with his hair. You were almost done when you noticed him smiling at your reflection in the mirror.

“What?”

“I’m getting… deja vu,” he said and you slapped the back of his neck but he grabbed your wrist and made you face him.

“Wanna do something about this?” He pointed at the still fading bruise on his neck- the one you gave him. 

“What, did you not go around parading it for the past 3 days?” You asked and he scoffed.

“If you want me to exhibit it, then sure,” he nodded. “I could tell people that you gave it to me.”

“Oh, honey,” you grabbed Wooyoung’s chin in your hand and made him look up at you, leaning forward a bit. “No one’s gonna believe that.”

You felt his throat bob as he licked his lips and swallowed and you watched him for a moment too long before making him tilt his head and then you did the unthinkable- you pressed your lips against the faded bruise so now it had the mark of your red lipstick instead.

“That’s better, yeah?” You scoffed before exiting the room, grinning when you heard him shout ‘You’re crazy!’ from the room before he followed you, your grin widening when you saw he hadn’t erased that and that it was going to be visible for the rest of the night.

You entered the ballroom and greeted anyone who recognised you both through the masks, most of them shooting Wooyoung funny looks because of the kiss mark on his neck. Anyone who asked, Wooyoung joked about Yeosang being the one who did it which earned a good laugh. A few moments later, you found your spots at the dance floor where the dances were going to be held before everyone would start partying after the King and Queen would leave.

The first dance was as normal as dancing with Wooyoung could get- occasional teasing comments, you purposely stepping on his toes, him wincing louder than he should, and then you switched partners for the rest of the dances, rotating until the last song where you’d dance a slow one with your actual partner. You got to dance with Seonghwa who had quite a few things to say about your choice of dress but you shut him up when you told him it was from Wooyoung.

“Wooyoung?” He gaped at you. “Why would he?”

“Why would he,” you wondered as well, and then you switched to dance with Yeosang.

“I’m hearing a really sick rumour about me and Wooyoung,” he said as soon as you began dancing and you failed to stifle your smile. “I hope you’ve got nothing to do with the origin of that rumour.”

“Of course not,” you smiled innocently. “That’s Wooyoung’s doing. Shall we murder him together?”

“Let’s,” he agreed, and then you chatted about your plans for your group hangout tomorrow, deciding the menu.

During the next dance with the Prince of Halaland- Haeun’s younger brother Haneul, he introduced himself, you asked him if he was still good friends with Yunho and learned that that was why he was here.

“I know things with my sister are a bit… rocky, but I hope you don’t mind her,” he apologised on her behalf and your heart softened.

“Oh, not at all,” you told him. “We used to be friends, after all, Haeun and I. I know what she feels right now but I’m not going to entertain her until she comes to her senses.”

“At least one of you is being wise about this-”

“I do tease her on purpose sometimes, though,” you winked and he laughed, saying that as friends, you could do that whenever you were going through a rough patch. Finally, you switched for the last dance and found yourself in a grumpy Wooyoung’s arms.

“You were getting really chummy back there,” he commented.

“Are you jealous?” You asked and he nodded enthusiastically, making you laugh. “Well, you don’t own me.”

“Ah,” he sighed. “I wish I did.”

You narrowed your eyes at him through the mask. “You know, I would really like to know what’s going on in your head. What was with that note?”

“Did you keep it safe?” He smiled cheek to cheek.

“I burned it.”

He shook his head. “What are we gonna do about that fiery temper of yours? Well, to make things simpler, Princess, this dress you’re wearing is not helping at all with my newfound desire to… fuck you.”

“Newfound?” You scoffed. “Are you sure that’s new? Because if I begin to think back, I think you’ve always had one screw loose when it concerns me.”

“Hmm… food for thought,” he agreed. “Shall I then entail the things I’d like to do to you tonight?”

“Go ahead, do your worst,” you decided to play along.

“Well,” he twirled you and brought you back in his arms as you rocked to the slow melody just like everyone else. “When this is over, I’m gonna take you to your room and wipe that bloody lipstick off your lips with my own. And then…” he licked his lips and you found his hold on your waist tightening so you curled the hair on the nape of his neck. “Then I’m going to take this dress off and mark you wherever I please.”

“Oh,” you said nonchalantly. “And then?”

“And then,” he shook his head in amusement. “Then I’m going to find out if your pussy is as filthy as your mouth.”

This time the gasp that left was every bit real. “Jung Wooyoung!”

“You asked for it,” he whispered in your ear. “Tonight, I’m going to have my way with you, Princess. I’m going to be the one in control. Tomorrow, though… I could let you do whatever you please to me.”

“I never said I wanted any of this, did I?” You asked.

“You don’t need to,” he brought you closer. “Your body responding to me is indication enough.”

You bit your lips as you felt arousal pool through you and just like that, the final dance was over and the partners bowed to each other. Wooyoung said that he would find you later and dispersed in the crowd and you made your way to the drinks because there was no way you could do this without being a little high.

The rest of the night went by chatting with your friends and eating and laughing, a blur until you spotted Wooyoung waving at you from the door and calling you to join him. 

“It’s past midnight, but it doesn’t look like this party is gonna end anytime soon,” he said. “So how about you and I… take our leave?”

“What do you really plan to do?” You poked his chest and Wooyoung raised a brow.

“Are you… drunk?”

“Maybe a little,” you sighed. “I can’t do this if I’m sober.”

“Oh, that says a lot about you,” Wooyoung scoffed. “I know you’re not drunk, just a little tipsy. And now I know you want to do this as much as I do. And if you think you can’t do it when sober…” he leaned in, “That means I must have quite an effect on you.”

“Right, maybe, and partly wrong,” you confirmed, taking his arm and pretending he was escorting you to your room like a decent human to anyone who was passing by. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but hold that thought- I think I like where we’re going. No strings attached though. Three months here, Wooyoung. Then we’re just like we were before, is that a deal?”

“Hmm… that’s a deal. But I must place a bet on that,” Wooyoung opened the door of your room and you stepped inside, watching him shut the door and then take off his mask. “You’ll be begging me to stay when it’s time to go back.”

“Oh, how highly you think of yourself. Shouldn’t it be the other way round?” You smirked and he drew closer, pulling the string of your mask so it fell in his hands and he discarded it with his own. You unclasped the fancy hook of his coat and started unbuttoning it. “I think… I think you’re gonna actually fall for me before our time here is over.”

Wooyoung made an impressed face. “Make me fall for you then. Try your best.”

“Wow, I thought you were not going to be submissive tonight- you really can’t make up your mind, can you-”

Wooyoung cupped your face in his hands, scanning it ever so slowly and you mouthed ‘what?’. He only shook his head, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“I don’t understand how we got here, but I really like what I see right now, y/n.”

The only sound present was the cackling of the fireplace and the sound of your breaths mingling as he drew a bit closer, joining his forehead with you. “If it’s too much, if you want to stop, tell me to stop, okay? Because I don’t think I can hold back once you give me the heads-up.”

You sighed. “I’m going to pretend that I’m drunk and I’m letting you do this, okay?” 

You didn’t wait for his response but made the first move, capturing his lips in a kiss and he eagerly responded, your lips fitting with each other like it was supposed to have happened that way. You shrugged his coat off, leaving him in his black button up shirt and took a step forward so he could hold you against him because you wanted to feel every bit of him as much as he wanted to. He drew apart, picking you up effortlessly and you laughed a bit as he placed you on the table and hastily put your stray hair away from your face as he kissed you again.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, not feeling much through all the layers your dress had. Wooyoung seemed to have recognised the problem and let one hand travel to your back to figure out what to do while he put his tongue in your mouth and you exchanged heated, wet kisses, the lewd sound of it filling the room because you both knew you were enjoying that way too much. You pushed him back and muttered, “The fucking dress you chose, Wooyoung.”

He laughed, peeking back and finding the hidden zip, glancing at you once before sliding it down and down. You held on to his neck as you rose up a little so he could drag it down, leaving you in-

“Wow,” he breathed, admiring the black lace undergarments that you wore on purpose tonight.

“Like what you see?” You dragged your heels up his leg. “You, shirt off, now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he winked, unbuttoning his shirt and putting his toned chest on display, about to take it off but you told him to leave it, bringing him back where he belonged- in your arms, legs wrapped around his waist and this time he bent you down as he kissed so passionately that you moaned loudly and tugged at his hair.

“Enough of that,” he muttered, “I’ve got other plans. Shall we take this to bed?”

“I think this is more… exciting,” you tilted your head, kissing the mark on his neck that you had left. “I think I should do this everyday so everyone knows who you belong to.”

“Oh?” He caressed your cheek. “I think everyone believes that’s Yeosang-”

“Shh…” you kissed his neck again, making him chuckle. “So. You’ve successfully managed to wipe off my lipstick and take my dress off. What’s next?”

“Let’s see…” he ran his hands down your shoulders, tracing your waist next and you let him run his hands everywhere on your body as if he was memorising it himself, engraving your curves in his mind. He began at the same spot on your neck, biting it, his hands going to your waist and sliding to hook your panties in his thumbs that he pulled up to make you moan. He let you guide his face wherever you wanted him, let you guide him down so he could plant another hickey on your chest, and then he was trailing kisses down your waist and you stifled your groans until he reached dangerously down and you gasped.

“I’m going to ruin you tonight, you hear me?” He promised and you nodded as he went up to kiss you again while his fingers found their way under your panties and slid along your wet folds once, twice and then thrice- but he was not letting you breathe as he kissed you as well. Your legs were weak and apart now, one hand on his shoulder for support while the other moved around helplessly. 

“What’s got you so wet for me, Princess?” he muttered as he broke the kiss and trailed his lips to your ears, nibbling at them. “Want me so bad? Huh?”

“Shut up,” you muttered and he stopped right there.

“Beg for it, and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

“Wooyoung-”

“I said, beg for it.”

You shut your eyes in defeat, feeling his finger still hovering over your painfully throbbing clit. “Please, Wooyoung, please. Do whatever you want.”

“Now that’s a good girl,” he chuckled, kissing your lips and then straightening, pinning your neck to the table with one hand while he finger fucked you and your mouth parted for air as you locked eyes with him- his gaze alone was making you breathless but the way he watched you while he slid his finger inside and out of you? It was mad.

“So fucking tight,” he slid another finger and you writhed under him as best as you could when he had you pinned down. “Never been fucked, have you?”

“I have,” you managed to say, “But…”

“Not like this, huh?” His voice was deep and he squeezed your neck a little when he found out exactly how to bring you to your high- his thumb rubbing your clit as his fingers teased your insides. He watched you carefully and just when it looked like you couldn’t take it anymore, he took his fingers out, examining them before making you look at him as he licked them clean and you, surprisingly enough, found it arousing enough to shiver entirely.

“Mmm, you taste better than I expected,” he commented, sliding your panties off in a second and admiring your swollen area. “So ready for me, aren’t you?”

“Please, just do something,” you whined shamelessly and he chuckled, spreading your legs apart as much as you could and blowing on your clit, making you gasp out loud, later horrified by the sound that came out of you as he laughed. “You’re gonna regret this-”

“Tomorrow, Princess,” he promised. “Tonight, it’s my turn,” he said, diving right in and planting a kiss on your clit, making you want to clench your thighs but his grip on your legs was too strong for that, so you told him to wait and got up a little.

“I want… to watch you,” you admitted. “Grab me a cushion.”

“Wow, okay, easy there,” he teased though his hard-on revealed just how much that turned him on. He made sure you were comfortable and then kissed you on your mouth until you tasted yourself on him before he got on his knees for you, just like you had wanted to, and began to kiss your inner thighs, trailing his lips to your core and practically making out with it before he started with his tongue sliding inside you, feeding on your moans as he ate you out. You tugged at his hair and when his nose brushed your clit, you almost screamed.

“Just… just like that,” you told him and he purposely brushed his nose against your clit again before continuing to lick your arousal like he wouldn’t get to ever again, his grip on your legs tightening so much you were sure they would leave a mark of their own. He found his pace, tongue sliding once inside you and then up your folds, caught you shivering and repeated that until you were moaning so loudly anyone passing by could hear. The knot in your stomach built and tightened at an uncontrollable pace and you pulled Wooyoung even closer to you which was when he sucked your clit and you reached the climax, shuddering violently as he finished his ministrations, leaving you feeling like you were on cloud nine and could never find your way back.

“I never thought…” he began, wiping his mouth, “that this could be so fulfilling.”

You didn’t respond, simply tried to catch your breath and get your brain to work again. Wooyoung started trailing kisses until he reached your face and made you look at him. “I was good, wasn’t I?”

“You… are such a slut,” you managed to say and he laughed out loud, kissing you once. 

“You love that and you know it,” he patted your cheek, picking you up and taking you to your bed, going through your wardrobe and picking out a green nightgown. You tossed your bra away and he raised a brow- he hadn’t seen that yet.

“Like what you see, huh?” You said tiredly. “Come here.”

He tossed the gown on the bed and you made him lie down, sliding his pants down while he looked confused. You simply said, “You look like you need it too. Now be a good little boy and let me do this.”

He chuckled and you pressed his hard bulge, earning a moan instantly which made you smile. You slid his boxers down, revealing his hard length and suddenly, you were sure you could go for a much intense second round but you held yourself back- not tonight. Not now. So you rubbed your hands up and down his length, making his eyes roll back with pleasure and you kissed the tip of it, licking down a stripe and then jerking him off, his breathy moans filling the silence of the room. You made him watch you please him until he came all over himself. 

“I’m a good girl, alright?” You smirked as you grabbed your discarded panty and wiped his cum off of his stomach, making him groan and laugh. “I clean up well.”

“You’re too much,” he shook his head. “You… you’re too much for me.”

“Please, you have seen nothing yet,” you promised, getting on top of him and kissing him deeply, making his length rest between your parted folds and you dared to grind once, the both of you moaning. “You… have seen nothing yet, Wooyoung.”

With a final kiss, you wore your nightgown and he grabbed his boxers, about to get up but you grabbed his arm. “You can sleep here, you know.”

“I don’t think I can hold myself back if I do,” he shook his head, getting up and wearing the rest of his clothes. “Maybe next time… I might.”

You smiled at that and he kissed your forehead before telling you to get some sleep, but you lay lovestruck all night.

—----------------------------

“That’s it. I’m going home. Pack your stuff, Hongjoong and Seonghwa-”

Wooyoung laughed at that and you glared at him. He raised his hands in surrender. “What? I’m only offering to help!”

“He’s mocking me, don’t you see?” You turned to your Right Hand and Advisor. “He purposefully announces that I am avoiding horse-riding, mentioning nothing of my injury so everyone would think I’m scared of horses- which I am, a little, also thanks to this brat!”

“Oh, come on, are you still sour about that one time? We were 13!”

You were 13, visiting Wooyoung. That was probably the summer your relationship started changing from inseparable friends to frenemies, mostly because Wooyoung was always pranking you and teasing you about something. He had played a prank with a horse, making you believe the horse had gone rogue and you almost thought you would die. He got a beating from his mother after that incident but that didn’t stop him from being a smug ass and joking about it every now and then.

You were a bit traumatised after that and it always took you a while to get used to horses before you’d feel comfortable again. But this time, you really had your ankle injury as an excuse to avoid riding, though now your ankle was fully healed and it was about time you went back…

“I’ll take my time getting comfortable with the horses. I don’t trust him. I’m not taking up his offer, please translate it to him because he seems to not be understanding anything I’ve said so far.”

Seonghwa groaned loudly. “You both still act like you’re 13. Wooyoung, please stop being a jerk about this. And y/n… stop overreacting. If anyone else had offered you the same thing, you would have accepted.”

“Yes, I would have, but this is Wooyoung!” You pointed at him and even Hongjoong started laughing along with Wooyoung. “I cannot trust him!”

“Really?” Wooyoung raised a brow. “You don’t trust me with this, but you trust me enough to do other things-”

“Shut up,” you glared at him, looking at Seonghwa. “What can I do to get him off my back?”

“I’ll join, okay?” Seonghwa got up. “If Wooyoung tries anything funny I’ll stop him.”

“Does it have to be him?” You groaned.

“Honestly, you two need to work out your differences- you’re both adults now,” Hongjoong began and you almost cried. Your own court was ganging up on you. “I don’t get you two. One moment you’re trying to kill each other and the next…”

You met Wooyoung’s eyes and he passed you a flirty gaze before winking, and you stifled a smile. Hongjoong seemed to have caught that- “See! I don’t know what’s wrong with you two. What do you say, Seonghwa? They look chummy enough to do this together, let’s leave them be.”

“Wait, what did I do?” You laughed but Hongjoong and Seonghwa weren’t having any of it.

“They’re kids, both of them. You, Princess, are going to be riding a horse by yourself by the end of this session, otherwise I’ll make you do my paperwork for a week.”

You passed Seonghwa a death glare before asking Wooyoung to lead the way, ignoring how the two snickered behind your back. Wooyoung was clearly enjoying it but he promised to be serious.

And surprisingly, he was serious. He made you feel out the horse, made you get comfortable with it until you could pet it, and then he made you walk it with you. You were squirming most of the time but started to feel comfortable after about half an hour, which was when he helped you up. You winced a little as you settled in front of him on the horse.

“What’s wrong? Ankle still hurts?” He asked.

“Just wrong footing, it’s okay,” you told him and he patted your thigh.

“You should be more careful, y/n. How did you get it injured in the first place?”

“Aw, are you worried?” You turned and scratched his chin, making him shut his eyes in annoyance. “Yeah, well, I fell from the stairs.”

“So clumsy,” he shook his head. “You should take good care of your body, okay?”

You shrugged, holding the reins and he put his hands on yours, ready to ride. He rested his chin on your shoulder, whispering, “What do you say I give you a foot massage tonight?”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you very much,” you answered politely and he laughed, kissing your neck before drawing back and you gasped-

“Not in public!”

“Come on, I do that to everyone, no one cares,” he simply said and you shrugged- that was true.

“Do you do that to everyone too?” You asked as you rode at a slow pace.

“What?” Wooyoung’s teasing tone was an indication that he understood exactly what you meant.

“Whatever you’ve been doing with me lately,” you swallowed. “Do you mess around?”

“Nope,” he promised. “Only you.”

You felt butterflies in your stomach, stifling your smile. “Better be only me while we’re… together?”

“Together,” he squeezed your hands before tightening the reins so the horse increased its pace. “How are you feeling?”

“What?” You asked after a moment.

“About the horse. Are you okay?”

You realised you’d been too busy feeling Wooyoung’s body against you, his hands on yours, his words and breath in your ear, his face against your side that you’d totally forgotten about the horse and your little fears about messing up.

“I- I’m okay, surprisingly.”

“I knew I’d make a good distraction,” Wooyoung said proudly.

“You do actually,” you laughed. “I don’t think I’m distracted enough though.”

“Oh?” Wooyoung drew closer so the rocking of the horse made you fall in a rhythmic movement with his body. “How about now?”

“I think… I’d need aftercare,” you teased and he chuckled deeply.

“Do you flirt like this with anyone?”

“Only you,” you said and he shook his head, speechless for once.

As promised, once you were all done with the horse-riding and you were following the others to dinner, falling behind as you looked around for Yuju, Wooyoung grabbed your arm and put a finger on his lips to tell you to stay quiet, taking you around the corridors until he tried one of the doors and found a small storage room, taking you in and shutting the door, immediately cupping your face and kissing you as if it was his last time. Your knees went weak in shock and you held on to him as you kissed him back, snaking your arms around his neck.

“God, I missed your mouth,” he pecked your lips. “I missed you.”

You hmm-ed against his neck, making him exhale deeply. You pecked his neck and then caressed his face. “I’ve been aching for you, Wooyoung.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he laughed in defeat. “What do you want me to do?”

You kissed him in answer and his hands went to slide under your blouse, holding your bare waist as you explored each other’s mouths, not even bothering to stay quiet. His thumbs hooked in the waistband of your panties and you gasped in his mouth, shaking your head.

“Not now- we’ll be late for dinner. Everyone will notice.”

“Tonight then?” He asked.

“I’m sleeping with Yuju tonight. Tomorrow night?”

“I have to go to town tomorrow night with Yunho,” he said and you groaned. “I’ll find you, though. Tomorrow.”

You nodded, kissing him one last time before exiting first and making up the excuse of trying to find Yuju when your friends asked why you were late. Wooyoung arrived a few moments later and you ate dinner without meeting eyes, the remnants of desire still getting the better of you both.

That night, Yuju came over to your room and you both caught up on your lives now that you two finally had time alone. You two were eating chocolates on the bed as you talked about the flings back home, politics, family, and everything. She was one of your oldest friends so it always felt extremely comfortable with her. You were both bare with each other.

“So,” you shifted so you were lying down on your stomach like Yuju. “Any progress with Seonghwa?”

“No, but…” she smiled and hid her face and you poked her arm.

“But what? Why are you shy all of a sudden?”

“I don’t think I’m into Seonghwa anymore,” Yuju admitted, putting her hands on her cheeks.

“And my plan to get Seonghwa hitched fails yet again,” you sighed. “You look like you have more to tell.”

“Make a guess, y/n.”

You paused, your past conversations replaying in your head and you gasped. “You! You hooked up with San, didn’t you!”

Yuju laughed and you wowed in disbelief, asking what exactly happened. She sighed happily. “We were pursuing other people, teaming up to make them jealous. But during the ball, we never left each other’s side. We were too busy with each other, and before we knew it, the ball ended. He came to drop me to my room, and somehow… We ended up making out-”

“Ew! That’s cute but disgusting.”

“We were drunk,” Yuju laughed, slapping your arm. “But he… oh my god, y/n, I’ve never been kissed better. You need to get San to kiss you once because he-”

“Yuju, shut up!” You groaned. 

“And then we sat on the floor all night talking and making out. We passed out I don’t know when, but we woke up in each other’s arms then, pretty sober. I guess we couldn’t go back from there…”

“So you two are now an actual thing?” You asked and Yuju shrugged. 

“Maybe. We haven’t put a name to it but he asked me out on a date this weekend so I guess… we might be?”

“Wow, you’re living the life, huh?” You smiled. You were happy for them, though this was the most unexpected outcome. “You guys actually make a cute couple, but I’ll need a few days to process this-”

“I know,” she laughed. “It really was unexpected for us too. Anyways, enough about me. Tell me who you’re seeing these days because you’ve been glowing lately.”

“Really?” You frowned. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Lies,” she sang. “You reek of love.”

You made a face but couldn’t stifle your smile and Yuju repeatedly poked you on your stomach until you gave in. “Okay, okay. Wooyoung and I may have, uh…” you tried to find a word but couldn’t. “We, uh… we’re not dating, hell no. But we-”

“You hooked up with Wooyoung!” Yuju’s scream, you were pretty sure, could be heard for miles. You tried to shut her up but she was dancing around the room.

“I fucking knew it!” She laughed in disbelief. “I knew there was no way you weren’t fucking each other. You’d be blind if you haven’t noticed how Wooyoung looks at you-”

“He’s a pervert, of course he looks at me like that-”

“No, you don’t see, y/n,” Yuju shook her head knowingly. “I know it when a man is in love, and I know that you both would rather die than admit you’re in love, but everyone knows it, you hear me? Everyone sees it.”

“No they don’t,” you frowned.

“Yes, they’re all pretty sure you have something going on.”

“That’s old news though,” you said. “People always thought there was something between me and Wooyoung even when there was nothing but pure hate.”

“But how do you feel about him now?” Yuju wiggled her brows.

You sighed deeply, sitting and drawing your knees to your chest. “I don’t know, actually. We’re only taking advantage of each other, it’s nothing like that, but… I’ve never felt so… alive, Yuju. He brings out a different person in me- one that even I don’t know existed.”

“Oh?” Yuju raised her brows. “Tell me more.”

“Well,” you thought about it. “He just… makes me feel more confident in myself. I don’t know if he’s pretending to or if it’s real but he makes me feel like a fucking queen which is funny because in public we miss no chance to humiliate each other, but when we’re alone… even when we’re not hooking up which is pretty recent by the way, he just always says or does something that makes me confused.”

“It sounds like you didn’t really get that part right. It doesn’t sound like you’re actually taking advantage of each other.”

“We’re only hooking up while we’re here, because we’re both lonely.”

“Yeah, whatever helps you both sleep at night,” Yuju dismissed. “So the hickey was from him, right?”

You passed her a side-eye before nodding. “I was so confused when he did that to me. He made me watch it. Like we were having a cute platonic moment and suddenly he does something like that and expects me to be the same? And then he’s driving me insane so I decided to get revenge, and one thing led to another and somehow, we’re here.”

“Damn,” Yuju breathed. “You’ll figure it out soon, I hope, but I don’t think you can go back from that.”

“I know, that’s what’s eating me up,” you admitted. “I don’t think I can go back from this, but…” you took a deep breath. “It’s only the beginning. I’ll think about that later.”

“Yeah, because right now you two are horny and are pretending to not be in love as you satisfy each other. What a great idea, especially when you two are always at each other’s throats!” Yuju laughed. “Must call for some wild sex-”

“Shut up,” you laughed, “Wait till you get it done with San. I can’t wait until he finds out what a hoe you can be.”

Yuju winked at you. “He’s not such a saint himself.”

“Really?” You frowned. “He acts like a ball of cloud so I don’t know…”

“He’s a monster-”

“Okay, that’s your cue to shut up,” you put your hands over your ears. “I want to keep my clean image of San intact, thank you very much.”

—-------------------------

You were dreaming.

The tension from your shoulders was relaxing, and all your worries were fading away, being kissed away, small pecks across whatever skin was exposed through your camisole. You were sleeping on clouds so you shifted, smiling to yourself, and the hands running across your arms were warm-

You gasped as you opened your eyes, getting up and getting your eyes to adjust to the darkness as you looked at the body beside you-

“I’m sorry, did I scare you?” Wooyoung’s low voice asked, putting a worried hand over your shoulder. “I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s okay,” you told him, putting your hair away from your face. “Fuck, I thought I was dreaming. When- how did you get here?”

“I may have stolen some keys…”

You started laughing at that after a moment and it looked like that made Wooyoung relax too. He pulled you closer in a hug, cradling your body. “I’m sorry that I scared you. I was only going to sleep next to you so I was giving you a few goodnight kisses. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

This. Moments like this when you wondered if it would actually be so bad if you and Wooyoung got together. And this wasn’t the first time- even when you were friends- or frenemies, as everyone called you, you had these moments a lot, which was how you were able to tolerate Wooyoung. Yes, he was a menace, but he was also the most caring, loving person you knew.

You wrapped your arms around his waist. “It’s okay, Woo. You should have woken me up, I was waiting for you.”

“Really?” He looked at you, only the full moon illuminating the room. “You waited for me?”

“You told me to, dumbass,” you slapped his chest. “What time is it anyway?”

“Around 2,” he told you and you nodded, shifting in his lap. “You wanna go back to sleep?”

Your stomach did a somersault. “Why waste the night sleeping?”

Wooyoung tilted his head as he looked down at you, one arm under you. He brought his hand to caress your face, looking at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked- there was clearly something eating him up but he shook his head before joining his lips with yours in the most slowest, sensual kiss you had ever received. He made you lie down on the bed as he continued to kiss you, slow and steady, one hand still caressing your face while the other traced your body. You found yourself lost in that pleasure- you never knew only kissing like this could make you feel so… bare. He broke apart, peppering kisses all over your face and making you giggle, then pecking your lips multiple times, never looking away from your eyes.

“Wooyoung,” you breathed. “You’re being… different.”

“Do you not like it?” He asked, waiting for your response and you frowned at how he wasn’t even teasing you about it.

“I like it,” you admitted. “Please continue.”

He smiled and got back to kissing you, trailing his lips down your neck and planting kisses there as well. You made a decision then- to not question Wooyoung. To let him be rough with you when he wanted, to let him be this soft with you even though it was making it feel like you two weren’t simply just hooking up for the heck of it, but-

Making love. That’s what it was right now, as Wooyoung took off your camisole, leaving your upper body bare. He gently ran his hands over your waist, up to your chest, palming your breasts before going down on one and kissing it, and then the other, playing with you until you moaned out loud enough to his liking. You pushed him away to take off his shirt as well, running your own hands down his chest, tracing his sculpted muscles before kissing him again and then your tongues were exploring each other’s mouth as things picked up a pace and you tugged at his hair a bit roughly, making him groan into the kiss.

“I love it when you do that to me,” he whispered in your ear, nibbling at your earlobe before trailing kisses down your neck, licking and sucking on his way down to your waist, uneven moans escaping your mouth which just seemed to please him further. He pushed the sheets away, taking off your panties and slowly ran his hands up and down your thighs, making you writhe under his touch. 

“You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he breathed against your left thigh, trailing kisses up until he reached your core and you gasped when he planted a kiss on your swollen clit before licking a stripe up your wet folds, scoffing at how wet you were just from kissing alone. “Do I make you feel so good? That you’re soaked like this?”

You bit your lips at the sudden change in his tone and he didn’t wait for your answer as he started playing with your clit using his thumb, his tongue diving right in and you let out a strangled breath, struggling to keep your thighs apart for him but then ditching the idea when he got rougher, sliding a finger in you and you clenched your eyes shut at the overwhelming sensation of the combination. He was soon sliding a second finger, glancing at you to make sure you were okay, diving deeper.

“So tight for me, aren’t you?” He got closer to your face, grabbing your chin. “You still haven’t answered my question, sweetheart.”

“What… question?” You asked, momentarily pausing when he shifted his fingers in you and started going at a slower pace, also slowing your approaching high.

“How do I make you feel?” He asked again, running his thumb over your lips and pressing against your clit with his thumb.

“So… good,” you breathed, overthrown by the action. “Please, I’m close-”

“Then tell me exactly how I make you feel,” he asked in a low voice.

“You’re driving me insane,” you told him, “But I bet you can see that too.”

He smiled in satisfaction, kissing you deeply as he started rubbing your clit in circles, the feeling of that and his fingers pumping in and out of you finally making you reach your climax and you moaned in the kiss as you squirmed, wearing out the high. He drew apart, examining the mess you had made on his hands and shaking his head at it before he licked them clean and then-

Then put his fingers in your mouth. “How do you like that? Do you like tasting yourself on me?”

You sucked them clean and breathed. “You’re really loving this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I’m nowhere near done yet,” he promised and that quickly, a new wave of arousal spread through your body. You brought him down with you and shifted positions, getting on top of him and then slowing down pace-

If he had confused you, so could you. So you forgot everything and started kissing him gently, slowly, like he had. You found him motionless for a few moments, only kissing you back before he brought his hands to your waist, slowly caressing the skin as he let you kiss him for however long you liked.

You pulled at his lower lip before drawing back, kissing every place you liked- his forehead, the mole under his eye, the tip of his nose, his Adam's apple- that earned a groan and you started to grind on him, feeling his very hard bulge through his pants. 

“What would you like to do tonight?” You asked him as you rode him at a steady pace. “Tell me how you want me tonight, Wooyoung. I’ll let you do anything.”

“Anything?” He asked, running his hands across your shoulders.

“Anything,” you nodded, pecking his chin. “Do you want to feel yourself inside me?”

Wooyoung shut his eyes at that, smiling like an idiot. “I didn’t think that’s how you’d approach that topic.”

“It’s about time, though,” you unbuckled his pants. “So? Want me to ride you?”

“I don’t know if we can-”

“I mean… I’m on contraceptives. I could let you… fuck me raw.”

“Oh god,” he groaned, getting up and capturing your mouth in a heated kiss, drawing apart. “Can I?”

You nodded, helping him take off his pants and underwear in one motion, his hard length free now. You shifted so he could take care of it and he understood, getting on top of you and positioning himself at your entrance, the feeling of his cock rubbing against your folds already making you feel a rush inside yourself. You threw your head back and groaned as he entered slowly, making sure you were okay, caressing your skin as he fully entered you, experimentally moving inside you-

“Gosh, you’re so fucking tight, y/n,” he groaned with you. “This good?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Let me get on top of you.”

“As you wish,” he shifted your positions and you felt fuller, grinning at the sensation. Wooyoung ran his hands up and down your thighs, squeezing them as you started riding him, his eyes watching you rock against him, loving the way you bounced on top of him, your moans mingling as you found your pace. He sat up a little, putting his arms around you as if he could bring you closer, kissing you again and you couldn’t get enough of the feeling- skin on skin, nothing keeping you apart. 

“I love this so much,” you breathed, your legs keeping him tucked close as you rocked slowly. “I love this so fucking much, Wooyoung.”

“Me too,” he admitted. “I’ve never felt so good, you’re…” he kissed you. “Incredible.”

You wanted to tell him more. You wanted to tell him to stop. You wanted to tell him that you always wanted to feel like this, that you wished this would never end, but you also wanted to tell him to stop saying he never felt like this, that you were incredible, because you couldn’t take it. He seemed to have understood that, though.

“What’s holding us back, y/n?” he dared ask.

“I don’t know,” you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Just… right now, just ruin me and then hold me in your arms for the rest of the night. Can you do that?”

He kissed you in answer, shifting again so he was back to being on top of you, steadily pumping in and out of you as you kissed, as he wiped the tears that left your eyes. Your kisses got sloppier as you both approached your highs, moans louder, hands wilder as they explored each other, and when you finally reached your climax together-

It was epic. There was no feeling to describe it- the feeling of his body quivering on top of you, arching against each other, his moans and yours ringing in the air, every nerve in your body reaching a euphoric high as warmth filled you- you thought you could die from pleasure, that’s how intense it was. He rocked in you unsteadily as you both finished before falling on top of you and you held him close, breathless.

There was no need for words, not anymore. You shifted so you were half on top of him when he pulled out, drawing the covers on top of you both. You drew his hair away from his face, kissing his forehead and pecking one of his eyelids before joining his forehead with yours. He caressed your face ever so lovingly, kissing you once before drawing apart and continuing to caress your cheekbone.

The two of you, in each other’s arms, watched each other, sure affirmations passed in the way you caressed each other’s skin or kissed until you fell asleep.

—-------------------------

Something seemed to have changed between the two of you ever since that night, and you weren’t sure if it was for the better or worse.

Wooyoung was still, well, Wooyoung. He got worse at times with teasing you in public or making fun of you until you cursed him out loud in front of everyone, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. 

It was what you two did in private that was different.

He passed up no opportunity to get you alone and kiss you, at least, or indulge you in some dry humping. Those stolen moments, though, were nothing compared to what was going on at night time.

At first, he had been a bit distant, but then you, during one of your makeout sessions, joked about how he was so gentle that night that you wondered if someone had possessed him. You told him that you had heard a rumour that even San could be a monster in bed-

“That’s who you suggested, wasn’t it?” You recalled and Wooyoung’s gaze got hard. “I distinctly remember you telling me San would make a good suitor. Maybe I should consider-”

He obviously had no idea that you were joking and San was now with your best friend, but you wondered if it was only jealousy when he fucked you like no tomorrow, on the floor. He was rough, he was filthy, and he made you come more times in a span of an hour then you could count, making you almost cry by the end of it, but when he rocked inside of your oversensitive walls to approach your almost-there climax, he had the audacity to choke you when you came, making it more intense than it had to be as you finally cried through it.

He breathed harshly in your ear. “You’re mine. You hear me?”

“I’m yours,” you answered, squeezing his arm.

“Say it louder.”

“I’m yours,” you said with surety and he finally came inside you, collapsing beside you. 

Moments like those made you wonder where you two stood. You decided to ask him if he ever called you ‘his’ again, but he didn’t. Not again. You two kissed, fucked roughly, sometimes lovingly, but he never called you his again.

And with each passing day, that made the hole in your heart bigger.

Had you started something you couldn’t handle? Did you take him easy because he was Wooyoung, the friend you loved and hated at the same time? Did you think you wouldn’t fall for him if you were mean to him? 

Because you were falling for him-

No. You had fallen for him long ago. Maybe before you two ever kissed. 

But it was Wooyoung. You never knew what was going through his head, so you resorted to being mean to him. If your feelings were one-sided, he would never let you live it down. Perhaps you realised that ages ago and put this wall between you as your defence mechanism. He had you wrapped around his fingers all along, yet you never noticed until it was too late-

Until you experienced what it would be like to be loved by Wooyoung- if you could call what he did ‘love’- he would find your eyes from across the room and share a smile, have your back whenever Haeun or someone else bullied you (mostly because he claimed only he was allowed to bully you), look at you with an intensity that made you fold in yourself, kissed you like he needed it, held you as if you could break, as if he never wanted to let you go, and worshipped your body as he made love to you. 

You realised then, that if things stayed the same and you two parted just like this, you’d never be able to move on. You needed to let him know some way, but you also needed to find out what he felt, because it was mostly his fault for making you feel so confused. If he had simply only come to fuck you and leave, you would have understood. You would have known his only goal was to satiate his somewhat questionable desires so you’d do the same. You’d perhaps hate him more by the end of it, but since he was almost acting like he was actually your boyfriend now? He needed to be responsible for it.

Two months were nearing their end just like that. You looked up at the sky and sighed- you had chosen this spot on the roof to get some air as you sorted your thoughts out. There was another secret passageway that you accessed to get to the roof- one that Yunho told you of years ago. You had asked him a few days ago if going to the roof was still safe, which was how you found yourself here tonight, the cool breeze relaxing you as you stretched-

You heard footsteps behind you and you turned, breaking into a smile. “Think of the devil.”

“I thought you’d be here,” Yunho said, sitting beside you on the bench. “Thinking about me?”

“I was wondering when you’d come find me here,” you admitted. “It’s been a while since we caught up, right?”

“Yeah, I really don’t get time to breathe these days,” he admitted, laughing. “My idea to call everyone here was good but I didn’t know it’d be this tiring.”

“Well, let’s hope you get to be the guest next summer instead of the host,” you smiled. “It’s really fun here though. Are you enjoying it?”

“Oh, I am,” he nodded enthusiastically. “There is a lot going on here.”

“Sure is,” you scoffed, knowing he was referring to the latest news. “You were right about someone going back engaged. Just never thought it’d be San of all the people.”

“Yeah,” he whistled. “I hope their parents are as enthusiastic about this idea as they are.”

“I hope so too. I hope it’s not just something they’re feeling in… the moment. Yuju’s not the type though, and neither is San.”

“What about you? Found a suitor yet?” He wiggled his brows. 

“Is that what we came here for? To find partners? You should have said in your letter ‘Matchmaking Service’ then- and what about you?”

Yunho grinned at what you said. “Me? I’m still a loner.”

“That’s what I’m asking, you idiot. Why are you still a loner? I thought she was interested in you?”

“She wasn’t serious about this. I don’t do flings,” he admitted and you felt a pang in your chest but also felt sorry for him.

“What’s her name? I’m going to kill her for breaking your heart first thing tomorrow-”

“No,” he laughed loudly. “I’m good. No hearts broken here. You, though, look like you just broke up without getting in a relationship.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What do you know?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head innocently.

“Come on, spill. You can’t lie to me, Yunho, you know that.”

Yunho considered for a moment. “I don’t know much. All I know is Wooyoung drunk-cried and kept calling your name.”

“Wait, Wooyoung got drunk? That’s more surprising than him crying.”

“I know,” he sighed. “You know he’s always in his senses when he’s drunk, right? He only pretends to be drunk to tease you. But this time, it was just him and me. He actually got drunk. He didn’t say anything else so I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but he was a mess, y/n.”

Your heart sank as you processed what he had said. Why would Wooyoung be a mess? Was it just because he wanted to be with you because he was drunk, or…

“Are you going to tell me anything? Because I know for a fact something happened between you two before Wooyoung became a drunken mess.”

“Really? How?”

“You two are not the best actors,” he said and you pursed your lips in shame. “Maybe no one else has noticed but honestly? Not subtle at all.”

You scoffed at that. “That’s on Wooyoung. He’s shameless.”

“You look pretty lovestruck when you think he’s not watching,” Yunho said and you sighed.

“Okay, yeah. We’re… having a fling, if you can call it that-”

“Damn, not what I expected.”

“Yeah, whatever. Problem is… I may have caught feelings for him. And now I’m realising I’ve had feelings for him from way before.”

“You could have asked me, I would have confirmed it for you,” Yunho laughed. “You’ve always looked at Wooyoung differently, y/n, whether you admit it or not-”

“That’s because he’s a menace-”

“And he also treats you differently than the rest of us- or any of us, for that matter,” Yunho added and you shut up. “You’re both too hotheaded, egotistic to ever admit you could genuinely like each other. But… I think now’s a good time.”

“Well, I’m not the one who’s doing that,” you raised your hands in surrender. “And you can tell Wooyoung that he can stop being a drunken mess, man up and talk to me about it. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’ll convey the message,” Yunho nodded. “I hope everything sorts out. It’s be weird if you two got awkward after this.”

“Yeah,” you sighed again. “It’d be strange.”

“Because,” Yunho began, “You two always looked like you could kill each other one second and make out the next. Now it’s different because you look like you could do both of those at the same time.”

You laughed at that. “I really could. I should make up my mind, huh?”

Two days later, Wooyoung was in your room, roaming around and moving everything from its place subtly to annoy you as you finished writing and signing some important documents from back home. You signed the last one and took a deep breath, arranging everything before looking at Wooyoung from where you were sitting, currently poking at the fire.

“You seem to be tired.”

“I’m not,” Wooyoung turned to you. “What makes you think so?”

“You’re not talking,” you pointed out and he gaped at you more in surprise that you could notice that.

“Not tired,” he repeated, “just thinking about some stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“You know,” he tossed the poker away, “to keep myself from fucking you right on this table with all these ‘important documents’ under you. Maybe I could sign on your body too. Seal it with a stamp, eh?”

It was more Wooyoung’s dark gaze than his words that made you bite your lips and look away. “Shut up.”

“No, really,” he was smiling as he came closer. “I could do that right now too.”

It was amazing how quickly you became aroused when he said stuff like this. 

One moment you were sitting, and the next?

You were on that very table where he had done something like this for the first time. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, keeping him locked to your body as you put your arms around his neck, his hands holding your neck and angling you better as you exchanged open mouthed kisses, not caring how much sound you were making because the sound of your wet kisses made you both crazy.

“Oh god,” you moaned into his mouth. “You’re so good to me, baby.”

“You like when I do this?” He asked, kissing your neck just like he had the first time and you gasped, clenching his hair in your fist as he marked you, making you squirm underneath him. He broke apart to admire his work, smiling proudly and you slapped his arm.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you said.

“Like what?”

“Just… shut up and kiss me,” you started unbuttoning his shirt and he obeyed, kissing you, letting you take off his shirt and run your hands all over his toned body, let you put a hand in his pants and palm his cock as your kisses got more heated and deeper, let you take off his pants which was when he broke apart to slide the dress off of you as well, laughing as you undressed in a hurry until nothing but air kept you apart.

You spread your arms and he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, nuzzling the space sweetly as you both rocked back and forth. 

Another moment that should not have happened.

You urged him up, trailing your lips across his face and asked him to get inside you. He scoffed in amusement, “No prep?”

“I don’t need it,” you scoffed back and he shook his head when he noticed how soaked you were. He rubbed the head of his cock over your clit and wet folds a few times, making you almost break apart before sinking inside you slowly, deeply, settling and letting you both delve in the sensation. You resorted to kissing his neck in the meanwhile and he started moving inside you slowly, surely, like he had done so many times now.

You sighed in pleasure, throwing your head back and Wooyoung gently laid you on the table, surprising you when he held your legs and put them on top of his shoulders- a new position that made his cock feel way deeper inside you, the sensation of his movements also heightened. He noticed your parted mouth and he moved experimentally, making you both gasp.

“Gosh, you’re so tight. You like this?” He asked and you nodded, letting him hold your legs by the calf as he banged relentlessly into you as if challenging you to moan louder with each thrust, and you could do nothing but deliver, your climax approaching quicker than it had in any of your previous sessions. 

“I’m- so close, Wooyoung, please,” you managed to say, trying to hold on to something on the table but finding nothing. 

“Yeah?” He breathed. “I’m gonna make you see stars tonight, baby.”

That was a promise he fulfilled as he thrust deeper into you and you came all over him, breaking apart right there. Wooyoung chuckled deeply at the sight, pulling out of you.

“I’m not done with you, yet,” he told you and a faint smile crept on your lips as you asked him to take you to bed. He picked you up effortlessly and then you were on your bed and catching your breaths, him caressing your face as he kissed you deeply.

“Tell me something tonight, y/n,” he breathed against your ears after trailing kisses down that path. “Would you have done this with anyone else?”

“Done what?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“This,” he looked at you and you tucked his hair back, tracing his jawline. “I want to know if it could have been anyone else instead of me.”

Moments like these.

“And… why would you want to know that?”

You could see that he was holding back, shrugging it off with a smile. “I just do.”

“Well,” you shifted in his arms. “No one else is such a fucking menace and no one drives me crazy like you do, so I guess… probably not?”

“Gosh, I’m gonna miss this mouth of yours so much,” Wooyoung kissed you once and caressed your face. “I have to go back soon, baby.”

“How soon?” You managed to ask.

“I don’t know yet, but I know we’re short on time,” he kissed your cheek. “I want to make the most of the time we have.”

You were pretty sure he had heard the sound of your heart break- or at least caught the look in your eyes. You nodded and he paused in the middle of caressing your hair.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said after a moment, smiling and shifting in his arms. “Let’s just make the most of the time we have, yeah?”

He nodded though he wasn’t smiling anymore. “How do you want me tonight?”

An open invitation. You smiled sadly as you took the leap of risk. 

“I want you to hug me. I want you to kiss me like there’s no tomorrow. I want you to make love to me, not fuck me like you just did. Then I want to hold you as we sleep, and wake up with you.”

Wooyoung’s heart sank. “You know, I would have done that anyway.”

“You know, you’re really bad at keeping boundaries, Wooyoung,” you started, the rage you’d been subsiding for a while now finally brimming out. “From the moment we started whatever this is… I don’t know-” you broke off and Wooyoung held your hands as an attempt to make you face him.

“Finish saying that,” he practically ordered and you glared at him.

“I just want to know where we stand, Wooyoung. Are we ending this tonight? Are we going to be just friends the next time we meet and pretend nothing happened here? Can you forget what happened here?”

“If you want me to forget, I will,” his jaw clenched though he seemed calm. 

“And if I don’t?” You dared ask and he met eyes with you, a thousand words unspoken between you two. He moved to join his forehead with you and the way your heart fluttered was unlike any moment you had shared so far.

“I don’t know what to do with you, y/n. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Oh, god,” you drew away and hid your face in your hands as you processed that. “Just tell me how you want this to end.”

“I don’t want us to break up,” his voice was low. “I… tell me what you want. I’ll be okay.”

“I’ve told you so many times,” you cried, finally looking at him, “in so many ways. I’m still afraid you’ll make fun of me if I show you what I really want.”

“God, no. I would never make fun of something like that, so tell me how you feel about me, please. I’m begging you, and I really hope we’re on the same page here, y/n, because I don’t know how I’ll move on if we aren’t.”

“You’re stupid,” you laughed between crying, making him laugh as well. “You’re a menace and you don’t let me breathe, but you’re also my best friend and you know me like no one else does. I don’t know how long I’ve loved you like this, but it’s long enough that I got so confused, and then you pulled this stunt and now we’re here and I’m a mess because if you don’t love me like I do… I don’t think I can move on.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Wooyoung laughed, kissing your knuckles. “I’m only like this when I’m with you. You know that, right?”

You nodded and he continued. “You’re my oldest friend and I’ve loved you for so long now. I took such a risk pulling this stunt but when you… when you kissed me back that night? You looked like you wanted to hurt me. What could I make of that? I let you have your way with me, and I kept falling deeper in love with you. I love it when you call me yours. I love it when you tell me there’s no one else who could make you feel this way, but had I known these were your confessions of love, I would have dropped to my knees right there.”

You laughed at that. “You’re so… oh god, I can’t look at you right now,” you drew away and hid your face in the blankets but Wooyoung wasn’t having any of it- he got on top of you, littering kisses everywhere on your back until you had to stop him because it tickled.

“Look at me,” his voice was deep and he crawled up to you, pinning your wrists to the side as he made you meet eyes with him. “You’re beautiful in every way- even this dirty mouth of yours,” he pecked your lips and you grinned. “You’ve always had me wrapped around your fingers, do you know that? I’m always waiting for you. I don’t know how long I’ve felt like this but I’ve wanted nothing more than to be with you. I love you so much, y/n-” he kissed you deeply and you met his energy back as if you could tell him that yes- you felt exactly the same. 

He let go of your wrists only to hold you to himself as he kissed you passionately, and now that your feelings were out in the open you couldn’t believe how different it felt. He craned one arm under you and held the back of your neck, the other repeatedly caressing your face as you basically devoured each other, and you made his cock slide between your folds so you could grind on him as you kissed, moaning into it and he didn’t let you breathe once. He swallowed every strangled gasp and groan that left you as he grinded back on you.

With much effort, you pulled him away only to look at him pleadingly and he understood, sliding his cock inside you and groaning loudly, peppering kisses all over your face before he hugged you.

“Gosh, I love you so much,” he tried moving but you kept your arms wrapped tightly around him, locking your legs around him.

“Please, stay like this for a moment,” you breathed, kissing his cheek. “I love this feeling. Tell me you love me again.”

“You’re going to end me,” he nuzzled your face with his nose. “I love you to death.” Your walls twitched at that and he groaned in your ears. “You like it when I tell you how much I love you?”

“Yes,” you sighed. “Oh, gosh, yes.”

“You’re mine,” he said and your walls twitched again and he couldn’t take it anymore- he thrusted inside you deep and hard, making you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming. “You hear me? You’re mine to love and mine to fuck.”

“I’m all yours,” you rocked against him. “I love you. I love you so much that it’s breaking me apart.”

Wooyoung nodded, kissing you again as he increased his pace, his thrusts wild but his kisses gentle, murmuring about how much he loved this repeatedly in your ears and when he groaned in the crook of your neck as he thrusted hard, you finally came with an unexpected rush, him joining seconds later but he kept thrusting to it as if he could mark it in your walls, deep, that he was yours and you were his.

You caught your breaths as you lay in each other’s arms and you cleared your throat. “You know, if you hadn’t been such a fucking idiot, we could have figured this out way earlier and I would not have felt like shit this whole time-”

“Shh…” he pecked your nose. “I don’t regret doing it this way. It was fun, no?”

“I’m pretty sure I would have rejected you if you asked nicely,” you wondered, nodding. “So I guess I should be thankful that you’re a menace?”

“You love it,” he grinned and you smiled, watching his breathing relax and his eyes shut.

“You better be coming to see me next month in my home with a proposal ring, Wooyoung. I’m not having you any other way.”

Wooyoung opened his eyes at that. “You sure?”

“You’re still not sure?!” You groaned. “Get out of my bed, Jung Wooyoung-”

“I’m only playing,” he laughed hysterically as you tried kicking him away. “Are we always going to be like this?”

“Isn’t this who we are?” You smiled. “No point changing now, right? Besides… I quite like you when you’re being annoying as hell.”

Wooyoung got on top of you and kissed you deeply, sliding his tongue in you and though you were tired, you found yourself making out with him again. He drew back, playing with the rock of your necklace.

“I quite like this filthy mouth of yours too. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Oh my god, mom’s gonna be so happy when she learns we finally gave in to each other.”

You frowned. “Did she already know?”

“Kind of. She made me buy this necklace for you and asked me to man up and confess. I had a better idea instead-”

The gasp that left you was unreal and you grabbed the nearest object- pillow- and smacked him hard, his high pitched laugh ringing in the air.

“Jung Wooyoung, you absolute brat!”

[neopuppy]

Bestfriend Jeno who invades readers privacy and goes through her computer filled with videos of ykyk💀

warnings. errrhhmmm🤔 masturbation, yeah..

“Damn, he really did a number on your phone.” Jeno’s fingers drag down the shatter of cracks distorting your screen, neck ticking to the side. “I can definitely fix it though.”

“You can?”

“Yeah, I worked at one of those phone repair kiosks a couple summers ago, these screens cost a fortune to get fixed you know? I have a lot of leftover supplies, can probably find something in my stash that will fit.” He informs, patting your shoulder. “Means you’ll have to be disconnected all day though, is that okay?”

“I guess, have some lectures to get through and a group project to finish so I’ll be at the library most of the day if anything.”

“Alright, write down your passcode and maybe your apple log in just in case.” Jeno nods to a notebook, grabbing a pen to hand you.

“Why the log in?” You hesitate, eyeing your phone nervously.

Jeno shrugs, holding your phone out to you. “I only want to help, I know you’re kind of down on your luck right now. I understand if you want to be around when I fix it but today’s one of my only free days for the rest of the week, so..”

“No no, it’s fine.” You sigh, pushing the phone back toward him. “I might be back late, don’t know how long this meeting with my group will take. If you could leave my phone on DND? I’ll probably still be texting from my laptop.”

“Yeah, not a problem.” Jeno nods to his notebook, smiling as you scribble down your passcode and password. “I’ll get this all fixed up for you, free of charge.”

“I’ll have to repay you somehow..”

“What are friends for?” He laughs, motioning to the living room area scattered with your belongings. “Shit happens..”

“Thanks Jeno, everything you guys have done for me..” trailing off, you murmur shyly. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you and Jaemin for helping me out like this.”

“Don’t worry about it, focus on school.”

After bidding you goodbye and good luck with your project, Jeno moves to his bedroom, whistling to himself as he traces down the largest crack on your phone screen. “Gosh, what a dick..”

He didn’t ask what the fight was about, the timing didn’t feel right with you sniffling as he and Jaemin helped you carry your belongings in. He never liked your boyfriend much anyway, or well, ex-boyfriend..

Jeno boiled it down to jealousy at times, whenever he’d have to witness the unfortunate public displays of affection between the two of you. It’s not that he likes you, not necessarily.. but your friendship hadn’t exactly stemmed from genuine interest in forming a platonic relationship. It just so happened that while he had one idea, your mind had already honed in and focused on another.

“Eh, I always knew he wasn’t right for you.” Jeno mumbles to himself, tapping your phone screen to the image of your now ex-boyfriend’s lips squished against your cheek. “Gross.”

Jeno gets to it, unwrapping a new razor to begin removing the old screen topper first and see the real damage. Lucky for you, he’d gifted you a durable screen protector when you’d gotten a new phone. Great for dropping, not so much for a crazy boyfriend hurling it at a wall though.

He’s pleased to see the damage is a lot more minor under the protector, mentally patting himself on the back for handling that for you in the first place. A text pops up lighting the bare screen. “Oh right, do not disturb.”

Jeno taps in the passcode, swiping down to turn off notifications only to come to a pause as another text comes in.

‘It’s easy money, I did it my first year of college to cover rent, and you're shit out of luck at this point if you think a dorm will open up this far into the semester.’

He knows he shouldn’t, but there’s no way you’d find out anyway..

‘Isn’t that prostitution?’

The last text sent from you has his eyes going wide, quickly reading through the chat between you and the name he recognizes as your best friends, the same one whose car Jaemin had found you using as a makeshift home..

‘It’s not illegal in our state, and it’s anonymous. You won’t get caught or anything. Trust me, I worked there for 11 months, best money I’ve ever made.’

Jeno mumbles a ‘what the fuck.’ To himself, opening his phone to copy down the address she sends in next.

‘Besides, what difference does it make? You were getting fucked by your asshole ex on stream for way less.’

“What?!” Jeno looks around in shock, covering his mouth in case someone else is home. An arsenal of unanswered questions race through his mind, swiping to put your phone on ‘do not disturb’ finally as he takes a deep breath to calm down.

“There’s no way..” he chuckles, licking his lips nervously as he taps open your photos and scrolls until a locked album named ‘delete’ catches his eye.

Jeno spent a year learning different ways to break into stolen phones with not even a passcode to assist, the thrill of unknown has his thumb punching away before he can even talk himself out of it. Not that he would..

Why wouldn’t you immediately delete photos or videos you wouldn’t want anyone to see anyway? You can’t be that stupid..

“Oh shit.”

You are that stupid.

Jeno groans, leaning back in his computer chair as he slowly scrolls through the album of over 1000 photos and videos, most consisting of topless shots. More scandalous as he reaches the middle and sucks in a deep breath reading the time on the first video he sees.

Eight minutes and twenty seven seconds..

Patting around for his headphones, he plugs them in and opens the video up to hit play, sinking deeper into his seat as your face appears half-fucked out with dreamy eyes and saliva wet lips.

The deeper familiar voice he recognizes as your ex’s comes through, making his stomach tighten. “Fuck.”

‘How can you ask me for more after I just fucked you full?’

‘Please daddy, n-need more.’

The camera runs down your bare body, laid back against dark sheets with your thighs hoisted up and open; panning down to where white streaks of cum paint your stomach and mound. ‘Feel that? My dicks still so hard.’

‘Keep fucking me, don’t stop fucking me. Fuck that cum deep inside of me.’

Jeno pants, short of breath as he digs the heel of his palm against his groin and groans. Fuck fuck fuck… he knew it. The past few years of having to pretend he valued your friendship more than his desire to fuck you, he always knew you were nothing but a pathetic sobbing whore. The sound of your sobs and aroused whines vibrating through his ears has him ready to make a mess, smoothing in past the waistband of his sweats to free his length, he’s thankful for the point of view shot; making it easy to tune out the masculine grunts passing between your pretty cries.

‘Fuck. I’ll breed you better than that.’ Jeno voices to himself, surprised your lazy ex didn’t make you get on top. The amount of cum covering your lower half has his hips jumping from the chair, eager to fuck into his fist faster.

One thought continues to pass through his mind as he grips around his cock and strokes to match the pace pushing you up and down along the screen.

He needs to fuck you.

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

The Love Language of Flowers (Yandere OP Shanks/Reader)

I finally remembered what I had forgotten to do once I opened this account -- and that was to share this fanfiction I had wrote on AO3 with you all!

Smut; Yandere ; AFAB

Synopsis :

You were a sickly floral shop owner in an otherwise dreary island. Despite your flowers bringing joy to the island, the villagers never welcomed you with open arms, only accepting you for your coin and products.

When Shanks and his crew come around, the treatment gets worse.

Shanks. He was so strong, stronger than you could ever be. And part of you hoped you could stay shielded under him forever. You always felt like no harm could come to you when he was around. That with him, everything would be okay.

If only you knew at the time what he was capable of.

Chapter 1: Hyacinth - Jealousy

“Come again!” You said cheerfully at the departing guest.

“Yeah, yeah…” The man grumbled as he walked out of your store, slamming the door shut behind him.

You glanced down at your transaction book and sighed, leaning back only to gasp as you nearly knocked over your finest floral vase.

“Oh, dear,” You said breathlessly, stabilizing the wobbly porcelain as fast as you could. With a quick sigh of relief, you shook your head, chastising yourself mentally.

“Sorry, lillies. I didn’t do that on purpose, I swear.”

The flowers in the vase didn’t respond, but you knew they wouldn’t. Being ostracized from the village had left you lonely and turning to flowers for conversation.

They were never known for their hospitality, —you were aware of this when you moved to the island three years ago to find a cure for your illness— but the villagers were even more hostile ever since you had befriended a certain pirate captain and his crew.

Dangerous , a senior woman on the island had warned you, Pirates are no good, heartless ruffians that take and take ‘til there’s nothing left!

But if that were the case, then why were they so nice to you? In the year that you had known them, they graced you with more kindness and hospitality than all of the villagers had ever offered, combined. It always made you happy to see them, and as your relationships deepened, it was harder to watch them go.

Your hand subconsciously moved to touch the bandage at your neck. If only the flowers that remedied your illness were able to grow elsewhere besides the island. Maybe then you could travel, move somewhere far away. But until then, you were content with living your life the way you did.

Your pride and joy was your flower shop. Using the only money you had left from your late father’s inheritance, you opened up your store in hopes of sharing the joy of flowers with everyone around you. The villagers might have disliked you for being an outsider, but they loved your products. So they kept coming back and you were able to keep food on the table.

Today was proving to be a slow day, though. With no orders for floral arrangements, plants, or vases, you found yourself eying your transaction logs wearily again.

The sound of your door chimes ringing quickly caught your attention, and you hopped off from your stool to greet your guest properly.

“Welcome to Floral Feel—-Oh, hi, Red!” Your smile widened into something genuine as a tall, red-haired man approached your counter.

“And hello to you too, Sunshine.” Your heart did double flips at the nickname. You’re the one who started the whole charade, but you couldn’t help but feel funny every time he called you that.

“How’s your day been, Shanks?”

“It’s been alright. My men and I are preparing to make way for the sea next week, so I’ve been busy with preparations.”

“Aw, leaving so soon? Must have had enough of this dreary place, eh?”

“I’d agree, but a certain pocket of sunshine has been making it worthwhile,” He made a show of winking, and you giggled at the gesture.

“Well, I’m glad to be of service. Here!” You handed him a clipped rose from a nearby vase. He took it and put it up to his face, eyes closed, inhaling deeply its scent.

“Smells nice,” He spoke, and when he opened his he was greeted with your stunned face.

“What, something on my face?” He joked.

You shook your head.

“Nothing like that,” you spoke with a touch of admiration in your voice, “I always thought flowers brought beauty out of a person, but with you, you simply make the flowers more beautiful.”

Your words had him stunned, but he recovered within seconds.

“You are a true Casanova, you know that?” He chuckled, breaking the rose off its long stem. He leaned over to tuck the flower behind your ear.

“And I can say the same to you, you make that rose look ravishing ,” He whispered close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Please don’t eat the flowers,” You chuckled nervously.

“Nah, there’s something else I want to eat,” Combined with the intense look he gave you, his words had you turning pink in the cheeks.

“Oh my god, Shanks,” You said with your hands covering your face.

He laughed a hearty laugh, clearly pleased with your reaction.

“Oh, but I’m not joking, Love .”

Love.

The two of you had started dating only recently, and you still couldn’t wrap it around your head that you two were together now. Shanks had always been a tease, but ever since the two of you became official, it’s been absolute mayhem for your heart.

“ Please, Shanks ,” You spoke through your hands. Your ears were red, a color he said he loved to see on you.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Sorry for teasing you, Sunshine,” He patted your head, “But I digress, I was wondering if you were up to eating at the local tavern with my crew and I tonight. My treat.”

“Aw, although that’s sweet of you, Red, I have to decline,” You shut the proposition down without hesitation. “I’m not one to drink, and…I’m not welcome there.”

His smile dropped at that. “Like they refuse to serve you, or you just don’t feel welcome?”

You waved your hands. “Oh, no, no! Nothing like that. I just don’t feel welcome. The venom is there, and it makes me feel uncomfortable. It’s obvious I’m not wanted in the village.”

He sighed. “You know, I can take care of that if you’d like.”

“Nuh-uh,” you waved a finger pointedly at him, “You are not threatening the villagers.”

He’d cross his arms if he could. “And who said I would be threatening them?”

You gave him a look.

“Okay, okay, no threatening. Can I at least get you take-out for dinner?”

That perked you up, “Sure! I’m not sure what they have, but get me anything you think I’d like, please?”

“Aye-aye, Captain.” He winked again, and you giggled at his words.

“Well, I have to check on the boys. I’ll leave you to your own devices, yeah?”

“Okie dokie. I’ll see you tonight!” You smiled brightly and waved him goodbye.

He smiled down at you with love in his eyes, and you felt your cheeks flush again.

A quick peck on the lips left you frozen with your mouth hung open. He laughed as he walked out, giving you a wave in return.

Once you heard the door’s jingle, you shut your mouth and screamed into your hands.

———————————

A few days passed uneventfully. Shanks stopped by your shop every now and then for a chat, on a rare occasion coming with his right-hand man or other crew mates. Today was one of those days.

“So you’re the little lady that’s got our captain smitten, huh?” The mocha skinned man said. He introduced himself as Yassop, throwing you a wink.

“That would be I! Although he’s got me smitten too. Probably even more so.”

Yassop shook his head at that. “No way. If only you knew how much we’ve had to hear Shanks ramble on about the ‘pretty lady in the flower shop’. It’s been driving us crazy! Our ship is full of flowers now, you know.”

You turned to Shanks. “I was wondering what you were doing with all those flowers! You shouldn’t feel obligated to purchase something every time you stop by, you know. “

“Eh, I’m just supporting my lady’s business.”

“Well, your lady is honored.” You offered a mock bow.

With your head dipped down, Yasopp took notice of the crystal flowers displayed behind you. Beautifully crafted, each flower was hand blown, delicately carved out of stained glass.

“Those don’t look like the kind of flowers you usually sell, miss. They look like they cost a fortune. How much for those?”

“Oh, these?” You turned around to stare at them yourself, touching a glass leaf gently. “They’re not for sale, I’m afraid. These were actually a gift from the Whitebeard crew when I first moved into the island. You probably know who they are, yeah? Well one of the boys had a thing for me and tried to propose to me with these!” You laughed briefly, “Can you believe that? I of course said no, but he let me keep the gift anyways. He said it was specially made for me and would just be thrown away otherwise.”

You were too busy admiring the crystal flowers that you didn’t see the face Shanks made. Yasopp saw him clench his fists, but had no intention of bringing it up.

“That’s… nice ,” Shanks forced out.

You turned and teased, “What, jealous? I can assure you that my heart belongs to one person and one person only.”

You took a crystal poppy out of the vase and handed it to him, “That person is you, Shanks. Another beautiful flower for an even more beautiful man.”

“Damn, Shanks, you didn’t tell me that your girl was such a Casanova. Got any compliments for me, pretty lady?”

“I have no problem admiring beauty when I see it. You sir, have gorgeous hair.”

“I-“ Yasopp was taken aback, “No one recognizes the care that goes into my hair, so thank you! Say,” He started, batting his eyes frivolously, “Are you single?”

That got a laugh out of you both.

The velvet haired man elbowed his crew mate. “Hey, no flirting in front of the captain, it’s rude. And don’t steal my girlfriend, jackass.”

You giggled at that, although Yasopp could recognize through years of knowing the man that Shanks wasn’t joking.

He threw his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay, I won’t play anymore.” He rubbed the arm Shanks had hit.

“I’m actually here with Shanks today ‘cause he told me you had dried flowers for teas. I wanted to stock up. We won’t be back for a while, and I get tired of booze every night.”

You beamed. Tea was one of your best sellers. “Oh, of course!” Shanks tucked the crystal flower in his waist sash, and you led the two to a section of your store with pouches of dried petals and flower buds. “Go ahead and open and smell them if you’d like. And I’ll throw in a bag for free, on the house.”

“Appreciated, boss lady!”

You felt a strong arm snake around your waste, and you leaned into Shanks’s torso. “Thanks, Sunshine,” He said softly while Yasopp was busy smelling the roses, literally.

“It’s no problem, I want to be good to the people who’re good to you, Red.”

Shanks sighed. “Your earnestness is gonna be the death of me, Love. I’m already holding back …” He murmured that last part under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Eh, don’t worry about it.”

So worry about it you did not. You spent the remaining half hour talking to the two men and explaining what each tea was and how to best brew them. Yasopp ended up purchasing your whole stock of chamomile and dandelion teas, and you threw in a bag of hibiscus tea for free.

The two ended up leaving after their purchases to reorganize dry storage on the ship.

“Hey, I was joking about your girlfriend earlier,” Yasopp brought up while walking back to the dock.

“Pshh, I know. No hard feelings, yeah?”

Yasopp gave him a side eye. He knew how Shanks could get around the things he loved. “…No hard feelings. I’m going ta make way first, dying to try this hibiscus tea.”

“Go ahead, I got some more errands to run before heading back on.” Yasopp didn’t question it, nodding as he slung the large sack of tea pouches over his shoulder.

When he was out of sight, Shanks went into an empty alleyway, using Haki to make sure no one was in the vicinity, especially not you.

He pulled the crystal poppy you gave him out of his waistband, turning it over in his hand. It really was fine craftsmanship. Someone spent a lot of thought and time into making this gift for you. Beautiful, really. 

He stretched his hand out, and dropped the flower onto the concrete. His heel crushed the glass with a loud, satisfying crack .

Chapter 2: Marigold - Passion

Shanks was a simple man. Drink a lot, sleep a lot, sail a lot, work a lot. There wasn’t much that could phase him, even if the most horrific of insults or treatment was thrown his way. As one of the strongest men of the sea, it seldom happened anyways.

But when his loved ones were treated maliciously, the whole script would flip. He’d get angry, belligerent even, and be ready to fight to the death to safeguard those he cared about. The failure to save his childhood captain left a scar in his heart, only fueling his desire to protect.

That’s why when he saw you on the street corner, covered in food, dirt and sand (and what that blood? Fuck that.) just sitting there with your items scattered on the ground, he was seeing red.

“What do you kids think you’re doing?” He growled with deadliest, Haki infused glare he could muster without making anyone in the vicinity faint.

Shanks was not one to hurt children. But seeing you sit there pathetically with tears in your eyes, he so badly wanted to break a bone or two and teach a few life-altering lessons to those hell-spawn.

They were smart at least, because they obviously got the memo and ran off for their lives, shrieking pathetically with their tails tucked between their legs.

“Don’t you ever try this again!” He shouted at them, sighing as he watched them leave for the hills. Once he knew they were no longer an immediate problem he turned all his attention to you.

His beautiful flower, all crumpled and stained with tears. He wanted to shake your shoulders and yell, ‘How could you let this happen to you?’ but knew you would never fight back against children, innocent or not.

“Oh, my love, you okay?” He muttered, kneeling down to meet eye level with you. “What happened?”

It was obvious what happened. Some demon-spawn decided to torment the nicest person in the village, knowing she wouldn’t retaliate. If he could just lay his hands on them, they’d be dead. DEA—

“I was walking back home with groceries when the kids must have thought it’d be funny to play a prank on me. They had me circled and started throwing rocks and rotten food at me. I’m fine now, though,” You smiled weakly, wiping your tears with a clean sleeve, “Thanks for coming to my rescue. Give me a hand?”

He grabbed your delicate hand and helped you up. You dusted yourself off and sighed, making way to pick up the groceries that had all but scattered across the dirt path. He mimicked your actions and before long, your groceries were back in your crumpled brown bag, although beat up and dirty.

You were too nice for your own good. Because even now you didn’t show anger against those children or try to get Shanks, the strongest man in the village at the moment, to do anything about it.

When he asked you why, you responded, “Because knowing the village, it was the adults who put them up to this. In fact I recognized two of those kids, and they usually come into the shop just to visit and give me flowers. I pity them all, knowing they’ll grow up to be the same as their parents, with hatred and distrust in their hearts. One of them looked like they were four years old, Shanks, four. How could I beat up a toddler, let alone get you to do it for me?”

Too nice indeed. Because to be honest (and hopefully you’d never find this out), Shanks was fully prepared to dunk a kid in a trash can and shut the lid if you just asked.

“In any case, I’m just glad you’re okay. Are you going back to the shop?” He asked.

You paused to think about it. “…No. I don’t really feel up to running the store right now.”

“I don’t blame you.” You seemed so sad. Shanks felt his heart twist painfully to see your usually bright self so demure, and not in the good way. He would do anything to get you to smile again.

An idea came to him. “Say, how about I give you a tour of the Red Force? You haven’t been on it yet, right?”

That seemed to perk you right up. “Oh wow, really? I’d love that! I’m surprised you haven’t offered sooner, to be honest. I’ve been dying to see your ship, just didn’t want to impose.”

You looked down at yourself sheepishly.

“Uh, can I go home and get changed first? I’m not exactly in the best condition for an outing right now.”

“Of course,” He stepped closer to you, “I don’t mind if you get changed. Although I’d like if you had nothing to change with at all.” He ended that with a wink, smirking as he saw you glow bright red.

“Oh my god, Shanks!” You jumped to cover his mouth looking around to see if anyone else heard that, “ We’re in public! ”

He moved your hands out of the way, grinning like a madman. “Oho. So you wouldn’t mind if it was in private, yeah?”

You were crimson at this point, and Shanks loved every second of it. By Davey Jones,  you were so cute. Your response though, had his head going into overdrive.

“I…” You fidgeted shyly, “I mean…. not really ,” You muttered that last part, and it took Shanks everything in him not to take you home and bed you right then and there.

He wanted to touch you, and bad.

“Getting bold, are we?” He bent over to say lowly against your ear.

“I mean—woah!” He had scooped you up in one arm, impressively. “Shanks, put me down! You’ll get your clothes dirty.”

“No can do. I saw the way you were avoiding putting pressure on your left leg. You hurt your ankle, didn’t ya?”

You looked away embarrassed and sighed. “Yes,” you mumbled, “But I can still walk!”

“Would you rather this, or me beat up those kids?”

“Ugh. This.”

“Then let me do this for you, yeah? It’s the least I can do for my pocket of sunshine.”

You smiled at the nickname and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Again, it took everything in him not to bed you right then and there.

—————————-

You had a blast getting to see the ship. It was big up close, but even bigger inside. You got to meet the rest of the crew, and was pleased to see Yasopp drinking one of your signature teas. He offered the two of you some, and the three of you both shared a cup for a brief but enjoyable moment.

By the time Shanks’s impromptu tour was over, the sun was lowering into a nice, warm sunset.

Shanks had walked you all the way home like the handsome gentleman he was. He always looked at you with such fierce passion that you could melt under his stare. Today, it was even more apparent, and you had trouble making eye contact with him.

When you finally had the courage to not look down at your feet though, you noticed he was staring at you with such a serious expression that you thought something was wrong.

“Thanks for everything today, Shanks. Is there something bothering you? You look like you got something on your mind.”

He looked at you for a moment, silent. His large hands clasped over yours with a gentle squeeze.

“…Come with me, sunshine. I can take you far, far away from these people and keep you safe.”

You seemed to hesitate, something he noticed. But you simply looked at him with sad eyes and shook your head no.

“You know I can’t, Red. I can’t leave my shop. And look,” You pointed at your bandaged neck, “Can’t exactly leave when the only known medicine for my condition is on this island, can’t I?”

“Then we’ll get you a doctor. We can find someone in the New World to heal you, or at least find a way to keep those flowers that you need alive in soil not from this island,” He was pleading with you, and your heart broke at the sound.

“But you don’t know that for sure. And I don’t want to be a burden on the crew when I’m already as fragile as I am.”

Silence.

“I’m…I’m sorry.” You looked down at your feet.

The man remained unmoving from his position. A dark shadow covered his face.

“No.”

He gripped your forearms. Strong enough that you couldn’t budge, but not enough to hurt you.

“You don’t understand, Love. I can take care of you. In more ways than one.”

“No,” he muttered, and it felt like it was to himself, “No. I am not leaving you behind. Not when you’re right here and suffering, when I can do something. Not when I need you.”

He leaned in, staring deep into your eyes.

“And I know you need me too. Don’t you?”

The way he stared at you, with loving, worried eyes made your heart melt. Eyes that were desperate to keep you. Tears prickled your eyes as you smiled weakly.

“You jerk. You already know the answer to that.”

He chuckled softly. “I know. But I want to hear you say it.”

“I need you, Red.”

No reaction.

You sighed. “I need you, Shanks.”

He wrapped you tightly in his embrace, enveloping your body with his like a strong cocoon shielding you from the outside world.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, soaking in eachother’s warmth. Part of you was tempted to invite him, beg him to stay.

Eventually the two of you parted ways, him stopping at your door and giving you a kiss goodnight. You smiled as he walked away with a wave, evening sun illuminating his crimson hair.

You closed the door and prepared for bed.

Later that night, your thoughts roamed to your beloved pirate captain.

He was so strong, stronger than you could ever be. And part of you hoped you could stay shielded under him forever. You always felt like no harm could come to you when he was around. That with him, everything would be okay.

If only you knew at the time what he was capable of.

—————————-

Shanks laid in his bed and pondered ways to keep you with him. He was leaving soon, and he knew you had too many attachments to this island to persuade you to leave with him and the crew.

And like a match being struck, an incongruous idea formed in his head. One he knew you’d never forgive him for if you found out. Hell, you’d probably hate him for the rest of your life.

It was simple, really. Get rid of your attachments. That way, the only thing you’d be attached to was him. In a way, he was doing you more than one favor. The villagers treated you like shit, and he could make sure your life was far happier than what it was now. No one would dare mistreat you ever again.

Yeah. It was a good idea. An idea so good he immediately hopped off his bed, and got to work. He checked the clock in his quarters.

Half past midnight. Good. That means no one would be around to see what he did. He carefully slipped out of the ship, watchful as to not wake any of his crew members or catch the attention of Beckman, who was on watch duty that night. In his hand was a large canister of kerosene.

Once he reached his destination, he looked up at the delicate sign you had crafted.

Floral Feelings .

Feelings, huh? You could blame feelings for what was to come. He had such intense feelings for you that he’d do anything, anything to get you to stay by his side.

Shanks was a simple man. Drink a lot, sleep a lot, sail a lot, work a lot. And when his loved ones were hurt, do everything in his power to remedy the problem. Even if it meant hurting in the beginning.

Breaking into the building, he splashed oil onto the floor, on the counters, on the flowers, and the walls. He noticed those damned crystal flowers and knocked the entire vase onto the floor, satisfied with the loud crash that resonated in the building.

Once he was satisfied with his work, he stepped outside, carefully maintaining distance from the small structure. Pulling a match from his waistband, he lit it, and threw it into the oil covered doors with a simple flick.

Chapter 3: Morning Glory - Obsession

The village officers say it happened in the dead of night.

No one heard it happen, and the culprit left no traces that’d help with any investigation. The best thing they could do was write it off as an accident, and hope your insurance would reimburse you for most of the damages.

They questioned you for over an hour, filling their books with useless information that’d do nothing to help find the culprit. They had even considered you to be a suspect, but the fierce look in your eyes and a seething glare had them scratching that off the book as soon as the suggestion came. When they left, you were all alone.

You just stared, eyeing the rubble that was left of your store.

Your pride and joy was reduced to nothing but ash.

What’s worse is you knew one of the villagers did it. But who? Everyone in this blasted town had something against you. Was it Marnie, the mother of three that blamed you for throwing her decor shop out of business? Or Riley, the man who was convinced you were a witch? Maybe even Lucina, who you fired after finding out she was deliberately poisoning your plants a week into work.

It could even be one of the teenagers that seemed to hate your guts for no reason. They would enjoy a prank like this. You wouldn’t be surprised.

You held yourself in a weak attempt at comfort. What you really needed was Shanks. You couldn’t handle this place anymore.

No, you wanted to leave .

As you trudged your way to the Red Force, the mocking marmalade sky reminded you of the flames that must have engulfed your shop in the night. Tears fell down your face as you thought of years of hard work and memories — lost to the wind, just like that.

By the time you made it to the dock, Yassop was there, ready to make his way to your shop. He didn’t question your teary eyed expression or soot stained dress. Word must have spread quick, because he offered his condolences and silently lead you to Shanks’s quarters. When you arrived at the door, he gave you a pat on the back and left you to your own devices.

—————————————-

Aboard the Red Force, all was quiet. It was later into the evening, and supper was served not too long ago. The captain of the Red-Hair pirates was sitting at his desk, eyeing the clock every other moment, waiting for your appearance. According to Beckman the villagers were gossiping up a storm about the fire since this morning. There was no way you haven’t gone to see your shop yet. Knowing you, you’d come around when you were ready to talk, but he worried about leaving you alone at such a vulnerable time. Maybe he should seek you out. Why haven’t you come to him yet?

Shanks sighed, continuing to go over logs until a gentle rapt at the door caught his attention. It couldn’t have been his noisy men, who had a tendency to barge in unannounced. Who the hell was bothering him at this hour?

“Who is it?” He inquired.

“…Shanks? It’s me.” A muffled voice muttered through the door.

“Sunshine??” He quickly got up from his desk, pulling his things back into their respective drawers.

Shuffling to the door, he was greeted by none other than you, your beautiful face stained and red with tears.

“Oh no, Sunshine. Come here.” He quickly wrapped you in a warm embrace.

“My shop…it’s all gone, Shanks,” you sobbed, “They burned it all down.”

“Yasopp just told me earlier. Believe me, I was going to come see you as soon as I heard the news. I just had to wrap things up so we could depart soon.”

“Don’t go…” You sniffled weakly against his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere, Love. Least not yet.” He reassured you.

You poor thing. All teary eyed and heartbroken. It hurt to see you like this. He may have been the reason for it, but your pained expression still angered him to see. What a hypocrite he was, but if anyone else had caused it they’d be dead in a heartbeat.

“You wanna sit down?”

You shook your head no, sniffling.

“Well we can’t stand here forever. Here, come in and si—“

“Shanks…” You interrupted meekly, pulling at his shirt, “What am I supposed to do now?”

He held you tighter. “One step at a time, Love. We can figure this out one step at a time.”

“I’ve tried so hard to be accepted by these people. But what have I got to show for it? Nothing but food and rocks thrown at me, and the burning of my most prized possession. It’s all just hideous.”

You blinked up at him, “I…I just want to stop thinking for a moment. Please help me forget, Shanks.”

“Sure, just come in so we can sit and chat about something else.”

You looked away, as if pondering the proposition for a moment.

The man stopped breathing when he felt you pull his shirt collar towards yourself, kissing him right on the lips. To his chagrin, you parted after a minute, trailing kisses down his neck.

“I’d rather do something else…”

Oh . Well if that’s how you wanted to forget, he could absolutely do that.

“Love, are you sure?” He still wanted to be a gentleman, giving you another way out before he locked you in . Because once he had you, he wasn’t going to let you go.

You nodded.

Gingerly, as if afraid to break you, his hand trailed down from your back to your hips, and he leaned forward to gently caress your mouth with his tongue. The first kiss was soft, with you reaching to wrap your arms over his neck. Your arms tightened, you pressing your tongue back against his to fight your way in. He relented easily, letting you dominate. His body was tingling when he felt your tongue trail inside his mouth.

When the two of you parted lips, you were panting heavily. You looked so good right then, cheeks pink with puffy red lips.

“C’mere,” Shanks ushered. Once you two were both inside, he shut the door with a heavy bang , making sure to lock the door behind him.

As soon as that door was shut, he pushed your sniveling form onto his bed, crawling over you to meet your eyes. The bed creaked under his weight.

“Oh, you poor thing. I’ll make sure you forget everything, sweetheart. Just trust me.” He wiped a tear from your eye.

You reached out for him, and his heart ached.

Without much effort, he lifted your dress off your head. It took every fiber of restraint in his being not to just tear your clothes off.

“Oh, you’re so beautiful.”

He stared down at your bare chest, your delicate mounds rising and lowering quickly with excitement.

“You’re far more beautiful,” You said with a gentle smile. You began to pet his hair and he almost growled. “Please,” you pleaded, “Just take me.”

“Fuck. You have no idea how long I’ve been holding myself back. I’ve been so scared that I’d scare you away or break you. You’re absolutely perfect.”

You giggled softly. “I’m stronger than I look, Shanks. I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

His eyes raked over your pretty form hungrily. He was going to consume you, and he had your permission to do it. Life couldn’t get any better than this.

You shook under his predatory gaze, looking away abashedly.

“Aw, come on now. Look at me. I wanna see your gorgeous eyes.”

You slowly moved back to look at him, enamored by those heavily-lidded eyes gazing upon you with such passion.

He made quick work with your undergarments. Before you knew it, your undies and bra were on the other side of the room, his own pants following after.

“May I?” He asked, leaning close to your face.

You nodded again.

Using his hand to lean atop you, his mouth met one of your hardened nipples, tongue rolling around in a circle.

You gasped at the sensation, lowly moaning as he suckled on your breast.

You mewled, and oh, how he’d love to hear that sound every day. At this point, he wished he still had his other arm so he could touch you all over. He’d have to make due. His knee moved up to your crotch, and you whined at the pleasure of it pressing against you.

He detached from your nipple with a loud pop . “Didja like that, baby?”

You nodded shyly, bringing your hands to your face in a cute attempt to cover your blushing cheeks.

“What’s the matter, Sunshine? I said I wanted to look at ya.”

“It’s just—I’m only now realizing that I asked for this, but uh, I’m inexperienced. I haven’t done this in a long, long time,” Your admitted, voice trailing off into a quiet mumble, “…this is embarrassing. And it doesn’t help that you’re really attractive.” You patted your cheeks like you wanted to wake yourself up.

He chuckled softly at that. You were so . Fucking . Endearing . “I’ll take care of you, Love. Just gotta relax for me, yeah? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You look stunning.”

“And look,” You squeaked when he kneeled back to rub your sex with his large hand, shortly before lifting it up and splaying his fingers out to display your slick coating his fingers, “You’re already doing so good right now. All nice and wet for me.”

“I-I—-hnggggg,” You bemoaned, hand reaching to cover your face again before Shanks caught it.

“Ah-ah-ah. Keep doing that and I’ll have to tie you to the bed post. Or would ya like that, eh?”

You were a blushing, stuttering mess at this point, both aroused and mortified like there was no tomorrow.

“I….maybe? I dunno, Shanks.”

Oh fuck yes.

The image of you chained to his bed, begging for action or inaction, had his lower member throbbing .

Your words let out some sort of primal beast in him, because his desire never felt so strong in his life. His instincts told him to claim you and to claim you NOW, and never let you go until the ends of time.

That’s it. He wanted you now, and bad.

But he had to be patient. You were in his grasps and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off.

Patience, Shanks. You already made it this far , he told himself.

You gasped at the feeling of his cock poking your entrance.

“I don’t wanna wait anymore, baby. Can I?” He breathed.

You smiled shyly at his request, sending his heart over the moon. “Please.”

That was all he needed. He grunted as he pushed himself into you. God, you felt so tight and warm . If it was up to him he’d like to stay like that forever. He started slowly, pumping in and out of you in the best missionary position he could muster with one hand.

“Ahhh, Shanks,” You cried sweetly. “Th—that feels nice .”

He leaned fully into you, his large torso nearly crushing yours as he made way to encroach his dick into the deepest part of your being. You looked so good with your breasts crushed between your legs. The two of you shared a heated kiss, Shanks thrusting into you harder as his tongue explored the cave of your mouth.

“Fuck, Sunshine. I could fuck you all day. You like your pussy getting pounded?”

You could do nothing but cry out in pleasure, which was all the ‘yes’ he needed.

“Roll to the side for me, baby.” As you laid on your side, he did too, his thick cock sliding in from behind you. He grabbed your leg and lifted it up for better leeway, grunting as he pumped you full with his dick.

“Oh fuck, Shanks, you feel too good. You’re making me feel so good right now.” You praised. He moaned at your words, teeth sinking into your soft neck. He peppered your tender throat with kisses, never stopping his rhythm, if anything slamming into you harder after hearing those words.

You looked so fucking sexy, laid out like a fine gift just for him. He was never one for marriage, being a pirate and all, but here and now he knew you’d be the one. Your ass was so hot as it jiggled, and he was obsessed with watching the perfect way your wet pussy took his dick in so easily. It’s like you were made for him, just for him and only for him.

It made him thrilled to know you hadn’t done something like this with anyone else in a long time. He was taking his time, and he absolutely loved it. He loved YOU. So fucking much.

He flipped you so you were now on your stomach. “On your knees,” He commanded huskily, voice thick with lust.

As soon as you obliged, his breath hitched at how utterly dirty you looked from behind, ass out, pussy dripping with wetness.

Your moans were sweet, so sweet. He cursed under his breath, eyes glued to the way your pussy was forming a white ring on his dick as he drilled into you from behind.

He didn’t ignore the way he felt you clenching tighter. A pleased smirk etched across his face. “That’s it, baby. You gonna come for me? Huh?”

“Hahhhh, yes!” You whined breathlessly as Shanks took you to paradise, forgetting all your troubles as you reached your high. “God, I’m coming!”

“Good girl.” That seemed to really set you off, because immediately after you moaned loudly, inner walls of your vagina beating rhythmically. He kept going, fucking you through your orgasm, much to his pleasure and your distress.

“W-wait, Shanks! I can’t take anymore, I’m— ahhh —really sensitive right now!”

“Oh, yes you can. Can’t you feel the way you’re sucking me in? Come on and take it, baby. You’re doing so good right now.” He slapped your ass and you yelped.

“Mmm, it feels too good,” Whined your cute self.

“You’re cute, ya know that? I just wanna spoil you and take care of you like this every day.”

“I’d like that,” You voiced between pants.

“Atta girl,�� The red-haired man praised, leaning into you so could cup your breast with his hand.

He whispered into your ear, “I love the sounds you make, Sunshine. You know how long I’ve dreamed of doing this? God, what you do to me.”

And now that he had you, he’d be hard pressed to let you go.

“Shanks, let me ride you. I wanna see your face.”

“Sure thing, Love.”

So you two switched positions again. Shanks laid on the mattress, leaning back as he watched you insert himself into you.

It was such a turn on watching the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you started grinding your hips into him. You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the lips.

“Let me help you with that,” He offered.

“What do you mea—ah!”

Shanks started thrusting as fast as he could into you, satisfied with the way your pussy tightened on him at every thrust. You held onto him tightly, fingers clawing at his back in a way that he didn’t mind.

You were moaning so lewdly. He felt himself slipping away, imagining a nice, cozy future together where he could fuck you as much as he liked. As much as you wanted.

Shit, he was gonna cum soon.

The fact that you felt so nice and warm was absolutely too much for him to handle.

“Fuck, baby, I think I’m gonna cum.”

You started suckling on his neck with vigor that was bound to leave nasty hickeys later, but he didn’t care.

“Keep going,” You ushered, “Don’t stop.”

“Shit, baby, you sure?” He said, sounding much more affected with each thrust.

He wasn’t expecting to come inside you but if that’s what you wanted, then fuck it.

“Yeah. I think I’m gonna come too!”

His breathing become haggard as he gripped your ass cheek with his hand, pumping into you like a madman. Finally, he felt that sweet release he was itching for as he let out ropes of cum into your pussy, your walls sucking him dry. You rode him even when he had nothing left to give dick sensitive to the touch.

You hopped off him and collapsed at his side, breathing heavily. He eyed the way cum slid down his dick, no thanks to you.

He gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“You did amazing, baby,” He praised.

“So did you. That felt great.”

The two of you laid there in silence, until you broke it. “I love you, Shanks.”

“I love you too. More than anything in the world.”

“…Take me with you, Shanks. I wanna join your crew.”

He shot right up at that. There was a twinkle in his eye. “Seriously? You mean it?”

You nodded, lips curving into the tiniest of smiles. “I can’t bear to see you go. And besides, ‘s not like I have anything left here anyways. Just…promise me we can find a doctor to help me?”

“Of course, Love, of course. Man I’m so glad you said that. I was seriously considering just snatching you away and taking you with us.”

You laughed at that, unaware he seriously meant it.

The idea was getting him all excited again.

“Say, you wanna go another round?”

“What—hey!”

And he was all over you, dragging kisses down your chest before you could say anything.

Chapter 4: Bonus Chapter : The Aftermath

“So, guess that’s everything!” You announced with the clap of your hands.

“Really? This isn’t a lot of stuff, Sunshine.”

You and Shanks were up early, packing your things so you’d be ready for the Red Force’s departure.

You scratched your head sheepishly. “Yeah, I don’t own many things. Being a florist doesn’t exactly earn you a mean amount of Berries, you know? Besides, I sold most of what I owned over the course of this week to have some pocket money.”

You were only bringing three bags with you : one for your clothes, one for your nic-nacs, and one small pouch for your medicines,  containing a stash of dried medicinal flowers for your illness. That’d keep your condition at bay for a month and a half, thankfully.

“Well, we have plenty of time to remedy that. Our band of misfits aren’t exactly broke, you know.”

“Aw, is Red trying to spoil me?”

“Only if you want.” He was standing beside you, hand on your hip as he gave you a peck on the cheek, watching with amazement at how fast your ears turned pink. Despite having gone all the way with him, you still felt like a shy, smitten schoolgirl around him. Perhaps the butterflies would wane over time.

“I appreciate it, but maybe another time. I got my own money to spend now, and I’d hate to use the ship’s coffers just for myself.”

“I mean, it’s gonna be inevitable, Love. We kind of have to pick up furnishings for your room. Unless you’d rather live in the captain’s quarters.”

“I mean….can I? Wait—I mean, only if you’re okay with that, I’m not saying I want your space and all, it’s just you’ll be there andIwon’thavetobealoneatnightand—“

Shanks beamed. “Woah, woah, slow your roll there pal. I’d love for you to stay with me. Contrary to popular belief, this cold-blooded captain gets lonely at night.

Your brightened at that.

“That being said, you’ll still have your own room to hang out in when you need space, and to hold all your things.”

“I understand,” You relented, “Where would we shop though?”

“In the village, of course. It’ll be a whole excursion. And I want you there to see the way they look at me when I walk into their shops. The faces they make are hilarious! You’re not the only one they dislike, ya know.” He gave you a hard pat on the back, making you go ‘oof’.

Once the two of you got your belongings on the ship, your trip around the village shops began. Shanks was right, seeing the villagers’ faces as your big bad captain showed up at their shop was hilarious. They didn’t even bother making any snide remarks to you because they were so busy being scared shitless of Shanks. The crimson haired man insisted you buy something for yourself on his dime, so you opted for a cheap sunhat and a new dress. Most of the shopping was dedicated to your would-be room, Shanks promising the shopkeeps he’d be back with his crew (that made one man nearly faint) to grab the furnishings after lunch.

The two of you were walking back to the dock.

“Shanks, I’m not getting anymore clothes,” You said after noticing he slipped a new pair of shoes into his bag.

“Well, who said they were for you?”

You threw him a look. “I don’t think you wear shoes that small. Unless you mean to buy for another woman.”

He threw you one back. “No way, don’t even joke about it. I’m loyal to you and to you alone, Sunshine.”

“Relax, big boy. I get it,” You smiled, “I’m loyal to you too.”

You sighed. “At least you’re better than my old boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah?” Inquired Shanks, a dangerous lilt in his voice that you failed to notice, “What was he like?”

“Handsome,” (Shanks did not like that), “A real heart stopper. But that was all he ever was. He was a playboy. Unreliable. Cheated on me with another girl and ran off with her. Last I heard, he became a shipwright in Water Seven. With a girl besides the one he cheated on me with, of course.”

“Damn, if I ever see him I’ll kick him in the balls for ya.”

You cackled at that. “Thanks, but I’d rather be the one to do it myself.”

“Feisty, eh?”

“Just for you, Shanks. Hey, where are you going?” You noticed he turned the opposite corner, which led to an alleyway. You followed suit, surprised when your back was pressed against the wall.

You gasped as a warm tongue quickly pushed its way into your mouth, a hand squeezing your waist as you were pulled into a demanding kiss.

When you parted ways, you were gasping for air. “W-what was that all about?”

There was a dark look in Shanks’s eyes, “Just claiming what’s mine. I don’t like it when you talk about other men in front of me. Or ever.”

Your cheeks felt terribly hot. And you found his possessiveness actually attractive rather than gross or controlling.

“Uh, I see,” You didn’t really know how to respond, “Guess I won’t do it again, haha.”

“Good girl.”

He gave you a kiss on the forehead, staring into your eyes as he spoke, “Let’s head back to the ship, yeah? There’s something I wanna do when we get back…”

You gulped. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

——————————————————-

Bonus POV: Shanks

You and I were packing your things early in the morning to bring to the Red Force. Without a doubt, I was ecstatic.

Truth be told, it was getting hard to part ways when we made out to sea. This time, I wouldn’t leave the island without you. I’m so glad you offered to come with me in the end.

Although, it did need a little encouragement.

Nonetheless I was happy. Only problem was you barely had anything to bring to the ship. This wouldn’t do. I didn’t realize how little you had until you mentioned not affording much as a florist.

My chest felt a pang of guilt at not noticing your needs. That was going to change though. From now on, I’d take care of you and make sure you were happy and would want for nothing. I offered to take you shopping since we needed furniture for your prospective room, anyways.

When you said you’d like to sleep in my quarters with me, I could feel my heart skip a beat. Everything about you was so perfect to me. And the fact that you reciprocated my feelings had me over the moon.

We ended up going shopping, and enjoyed mocking the villagers together. You were really amused to see their terrified faces at my presence. I don’t think you realized most people fear me, and that’s it’s kind of the normal reaction to have with pirates. Especially towards a Yonko like me. But that’s why I liked you in the first place. Because you weren’t scared. You treated everyone with respect and dignity, regardless of their situation. I’m glad you weren’t afraid of pirates.

That being said, if you ever got too friendly with another pirate crew (Whitebeard’s sons beware), there’d be hell to pay. I’m still trying to get the name of the sonofabitch who proposed to you, but you won’t relent. Probably because you know I’d make a complaint to Whitebeard. Smart girl.

You ended up buying a sunhat and a dress, much to my chagrin. I wish you got more things, but I understand you didn’t want to use my dime for your stuff. Hopefully that’d change in the future. You aren’t just my girlfriend anymore, you’re part of the crew. And I want to take care of you. It’d take some adjusting, but I know you’ll eventually grow to rely on me.

We were done shopping and headed towards the ship when you suddenly brought up your old boyfriend. Why? I felt jealousy surge inside me, but I bit my tongue and held back. Yassop had told me before that I need to work on keeping my possessiveness in check. Didn’t wanna scare you off, after all.

So I listened as you called him handsome, and then went on to call him a cheater, listing all the other terrible things about him that made you two separate. He sounded like a mouse of a man. You could have done better. But that was all in the past, right? You were doing better now.

You were mine. And mine alone. The thought always excited me, maybe to an unhealthy degree.

I led you to an alleyway so I could kiss you in private. I couldn’t handle the lack of physical touch when we were so close together. I absolutely loved the way you tasted, I do everytime we kiss.

I love you. I love you so much.

Do I regret hurting you to get the outcome I wanted? Not one bit. I’d do it again, even if it means you’d find out. 

Because now, I had you all to myself.

[roosterr]

i've known war

john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader wc: 9.3k (whoops) summary: you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. warnings: established relationship, angst and sadness and depression, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, graphic description of injury, mentions of torture, eventual happy ending, military and medical inaccuracies, pls ignore any plot holes i beg

requested here! follow up to love you from afar, but can be read as a standalone. im so sorry this took me so long to write lmao.

it always feels like the first time when you kiss him. even now, years down the line, the sparks, the warmth, the daze that you leave him in; he truly believes it will never get old.

the way you look, standing in the open doorway of the helicopter, silhouetted against the bright blue sky, it makes his head feel so fuzzy he almost forgets why you're all here in the first place.

it's the sweet sound of his name passing your lips that pulls him back to the present, your voice sending his stomach fluttering.

"earth to johnny," you chuckle, turning to face him and resting your weight against one side of the open door, "what're you thinking so hard about?"

he can't help the smile that breaks out at the sound of your laughter. "just you." johnny replies, closing the small distance between you and snaking an arm around your waist. you smile as he leans in closer, murmuring low in your ear, "and, how i cannae wait to get ye home."

you laugh again, placing a hand on his chest but not quite pushing him back. "we've got a job to do first."

he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles. "then we'd better get a move on, eh?"

"i'll race you," you grin at him, haloed by the light of the sun so beautifully he has to snap himself out of his reverence to respond.

"oh, you're on." 

perhaps it was slightly irresponsible the way he was rushing the others along for his own gain, but within a matter of minutes they're breaching the facility and well on their way to being done with this.

it's only when he's stalking along a dimly lit corridor that he slows down. something was bothering him, an off feeling in the back of his mind that he just can't ignore.

before he can think about it any further, a boom shakes the walls, filling the air with dust and obscuring his vision even more. it was close enough to start a faint ringing in his ears, coming from back the way he came; where he'd split up with ghost and, more importantly, you.

he should stay on target, continue with what they're here to do, his job – but what if you were in trouble? if there's a chance you need his help, he couldn't risk it. it takes less than a second for him to turn back, making the decision to check on what caused the explosion before continuing.

quietly stalking back down the corridor, it takes him slightly longer to register the fact that he hasn't heard anything over the radio; no updates, no clever remarks from ghost, nothing. they worked not fifteen minutes ago, just after you'd split up and checked them. surely nothing could've happened in such a short space of time?

he does his best to push through the sinking feeling that tries to drag him down, but it's stubborn, creeping in from the corners of his mind.

he reaches where he left you in half the time it took him to walk away, the intersection of two corridors just as empty as the rest of the halls. he points his flashlight in the direction you went, and the feeling in his gut gets worse.

something glinting in the light catches his attention. the end of the corridor is collapsed, when it definitely hadn't been before, but it's what lies in front of the rubble that he zeroes in on. partially obscured by the layer of filth and blood coating it, there's no mistaking it when he kneels down, dropping his rifle to the ground beside him, and carefully takes the metal in his trembling hand.

it's a pair of id tags.

he numbly calls your name. it bounces off the walls and echoes back to him. the blood runs through the creases of his hand, staining the flesh. the letters of your name are clear through the dirt.

no. you can't be gone.

he looks up to the rubble, shrouded in darkness, back down to your tags, back up to the rubble, and there's a hand just visible under the concrete that looks sickeningly like yours and–

he tears his gaze away, back down to your tags. the chain is snapped, like it had been ripped off in a hurry, as if you'd known you were going to die and wanted to make sure he would find them–

no, no no. you're not dead. you can't be. he just saw you fifteen minutes ago, he bumped his helmet against yours in lieu of a kiss like he always did before you parted ways. you were fine and you were smiling at him. it was only fifteen minutes, you were right here, he can still hear your voice taunting him about the race between you, it was only fifteen minutes–

a heavy hand comes down on johnny's shoulder, startling him out of his panicked daze and instinctively he jumps up and swings his arm at whoever stuck up on him.

ghost catches his forearm easily, his eyes moving between your tags clutched in johnny's fist to the wreckage behind him. when he meets johnny's watery eyes again, the coldness in his gaze seems to soften as he arrives at the same conclusion.

the ringing in johnny's ears hasn't left. in fact, it's gotten worse.

"we– we gotta find 'em," johnny's breath comes out shallow and ragged, the panic slowly rising in his chest through the initial numbness. "fucks sake, they cannae– we– we–"

"johnny." ghost interrupts his sputtering short, bracing both hands on his biceps and giving him a gentle, grounding shake. "...come on."

"no! simon we–" his breath catches in his throat, heart constricting painfully beneath his sternum as he grips the front of ghost's vest in desperation. why was ghost giving up so easily? didn't he care? didn't he want to find you?

ghost lowers his gaze, tearing away from the distraught expression on the sergeant's face. "they're gone, soap."

"shut the fuck up!" johnny growls, despair seeping into his voice with every second that passes without you. he tries to shake ghost's hands off, but he doesn't budge. "ye dinnae ken that! they're still here somewhere, we cannae leave without 'em!"

he's gripping your tags like a lifeline, the metal searing against his palm and heavier than anything else he'd ever carried. he shouldn't have them, they shouldn't be in his hand, they should be around your neck, you should be here, with him, and not…

it's too much. his knees give out from under him and, despite ghost's firm grip on his shoulders, he sinks to the floor with his head in his hands.

"simon, fuck– please…" it's a whisper, under his breath, but he knows ghost heard from how he crouches down beside him, laying an arm over his heaving shoulders as he steadily begins to sob.

it's not real. it can't be real. he wants this to be a nightmare so fucking badly, but the pain in his chest is far too real, his tears burning tracks down his face, the weight of your absence pressing down on him and crushing him under the pressure.

he barely notices when price and gaz appear in the hall ahead of them, just about registering the sound of the debris crunching under their boots as they approach. the pair don't say anything as they take in the scene, looking down with furrowed brows at where johnny and ghost are crouched on the floor.

the captain opens his mouth to ask, but ghost cuts him of with a solemn shake of his head.

words are exchanged, but johnny doesn't hear them. his head feels impossibly light, an expanding pressure beneath his temples that makes it hard to think. the ringing keeps getting worse.

the sound of gunfire makes it through the fog. gaz and ghost each take one of his arms, hauling him to his feet and essentially dragging him after the captain as they make their way back out of the building. he can't bring himself to fight them. he blinks, and finds himself strapped into his seat, the one next to him hauntingly empty.

price is talking into the radio, to laswell he assumes, but johnny doesn't register anything he says – anything except the last two words:

"...one k.i.a."

the air is thick with a kind of tension he's never felt before, a shroud of numbness that he can't seem to shake. when they land it follows them, seeping into the air on base and pushing down on whoever crosses their path. none of them have to ask to understand what happened.

johnny keeps your tags, clutches them close to his heart, and practically bites the head off of anyone who tries to take them from his white-knuckled grip, even as he gets checked out in the medical wing. his quietness puts the medics on edge, he can tell. something about the way he doesn't even flinch when they cleanse his wounds, the polar opposite to his his usual talkative nature, it tells them there's no use trying to console him. they try to convince him to let the tags go, but he doesn't acknowledge their words.

the broken chain stays firmly wrapped around his palm until he's staring down his own hollow face in the bathroom mirror. he'd turned the sink on fifteen minutes ago to wash the blood away, the water so hot it fogs up his reflection, but he can't bring himself to put his hands under the stream.

because it's your blood, not just the usual grime from missions. if he washes it off, he's washing you off, and he doesn't want to do that, no matter how disgusting it is.

there's a knock at the door, and only then does he realise how long he's been staring at the red that decorates his hands. he still makes no effort to move. 

despite his lack of response, gaz opens the door and meets his eyes in the mirror. there's a pause as he waits for johnny to say something, but when he only lets the silence go on, he takes it upon himself to approach.

"soap…" he utters, brows tilting in concern watching his friend continue to stare absently into the mirror. with a deep sigh, kyle takes his empty fist and pries his fingers from his palm. johnny's eyes gravitate to the fresh blood that wells up in the crescent indents. watching the red droplets fall, disappearing into the running water, the pain finally registering in his mind when kyle presses a cloth to his hand.

the sting of the hot water is there, a distant feeling as johnny allows him to wash the blood away, never saying a word as he watches kyle's efforts, like an observer of his own form, right there but looking in from the outside.

kyle reaches for your tags, but his fingers barely brush the metal before johnny is shoving him back with a rush of anger that happens so fast he doesn't even have time to process his own reaction.

with a thud, kyle's back hits the wall and for a moment neither of them dare move. they watch each other in silence, wide-eyed shock mirrored in both their expressions.

"i…" i'm sorry. the words catch in his chest, falling into the void there and never escaping for gaz to hear. he can't let him touch your tags. it's the only part of you he has left. "...don't touch 'em."

kyle squeezes his eyes shut, breathing a deep sigh through his nose. "alright, i'm sorry, i won't touch them." his tone is low and careful as he steps closer again, hands open so johnny can see them. he feels like a feral animal, being coaxed to let kyle approach. "but you need to rest, mate."

the weeks blend together after that day. some days johnny feels like the shock will never wear off, like he's living on autopilot. others, it all comes crashing down on him and even dragging himself out of bed becomes a challenge.

his dreams are plagued with images of you, lifeless and cold. it stops him from sleeping most nights, but others are filled with memories of your life together playing on loop, a constant reminder of what he can never have again.

the room you used to share is always filled with flowers; gardenias, gladioli, forget-me-nots, and anything else he sees that he thinks you'd like. when they wilt, and eventually die, he presses the petals in the pages of his sketchbook, keeping them in a box next to the very first flowers he ever got you, the memories preserved forever under your – his bed.

that same sketchbook that's filled with page after page of your image, some from the multitude of pictures he keeps of you, and when he inevitably runs out of references, he draws you from memory. it gets to the point where he can't pick up a pencil without your face haunting him; you always did love his art, even if he didn't think it was any good.

he knows he's not the only one taking it hard. the others are different too; gaz is quieter, something more serious in his eyes now. the captain doesn't appear moved on the surface, and neither does ghost, but when they look at the empty seat where you used to sit, the memory of you is evident in the way their shoulders deflate ever so slightly.

once word spreads about what exactly happened, the never-ending condolences and pitying looks from the people around base gets old very quickly. they tell him how they're so sorry for his loss and what happened to you was so tragic, and it shouldn't annoy him as much as it does, but he can't help the anger that bubbles up in his chest when they talk about you.

he doesn't want to hear it, and every time he has to listen to their pitying comments it only makes him resent them more. they didn't know you, they didn’t care, they probably didn't even know who you were before you died. they could never hope to understand what you meant to him, to the taskforce, the gap in their team that you left behind.

it's when someone suggests moving on from you that it all finally bubbles over.

six months later, a long time since that day but somehow no time at all. he'd gone out for drinks for the first time in a while, after some gentle coercion from simon, along with another group of soldiers staying on base.

he didn't even want to go, not really, but something in him knew he couldn't carry on like he had been. he needed some form of normalcy, one night where he can pretend everything is fine and you're just waiting for him back home, to just forget.

it didn't take him long to realise going out with them was a mistake. almost immediately he was dragged into a conversation with a few guys from another unit, and despite his many attempts they just wouldn't leave him be.

somehow, after about an hour of mindless chatter, they land on the topic of their love lives and recent conquests, and johnny immediately felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. he wanted to slip away, avoid what he knew was coming at any cost, but he couldn't get away fast enough.

one of them brings up your name, they all look to him with a sort of curiosity that makes his skin crawl. they ask him if he's planning on staying hung up on you forever. johnny says it's only been six months. one of them laughs and tells him it's just sad, and from the looks of it you weren't anything special.

johnny smashes a glass over his head. price benches him for a few weeks after that.

it's hell, being left behind, alone, while the others went on like usual, and truthfully he starts to resent them all, bit by bit from the first time he's left on the tarmac. it felt like they didn't care, that johnny's heart, his life, his soul has changed but they carried on without looking back once. he isolates and shuts them out in a fit of misplaced anger, building the walls around his heart higher and higher and letting that resentment fester.

the day of your funeral brings it all crashing down. after all those months of waiting, johnny didn't even make it more than five lines into the speech he'd prepared before he's breaking down and stumbling out the side door in a hyperventilating mess. simon follows behind like his shadow, sitting down with him when he slides down the wall with a hand clutching his chest. he cries into simon's shoulder for rest of the service, releasing all the pent up anguish he'd been trying to keep inside in a catharsis he didn't realise he needed. 

when they get back to base the next morning, johnny’s practically begging to be allowed back in the field. he found himself missing the chaos, the unpredictability of the battlefield was where he was in his element. this job was how you met, how you got together, how you lived. he never felt closer to you than when he was out in the field with adrenaline pumping through his veins.

it takes some convincing, but price gives in and everything feels like it's back to normal. missions are quieter than they'd ever been, but johnny finds it doesn't bother him anymore. he feels your presence by his side like the sun on his back, always with him, like his guardian angel.

it's six more months before anything changes.

in the back of the helicopter, a few minutes out from the landing site, an oddly comforting sense of déjà vu washes over him. the bright blue expanse of the sky, the warmth of the sun on his skin, he almost feels that if he turned to his left, he'd see you sitting there with that same smile lighting up your face.

his fingers tighten around your tags.

"you watchin', bonnie?" he presses his lips to the cool metal, feeling your name under his skin as he mumbles to himself. his gaze finds the roof of the helicopter, and even without looking he knows the others are watching him, that familiar solemn look on their faces.

they were doing this for you. everything johnny did was for you. he puts your tags safely away in the pocket if his vest closest to his heart.

the helicopter jolts as it lands, and with no more than a second's hesitation he's shooting up from his seat, a renewed energy flooding his body to the tips of his fingers. they step out into the biting air, a chill than not even the afternoon sun could stave off, and quickly begin their march into the small facility.

"you two, take that side. gaz, with me." price commands, and with a sharp nod from the three of them, they split up and begin their canvassing. they were here for intel, but there was no guarantee they were alone, despite the emptiness of the halls they move through.

their footsteps echo off the walls, only the distant howling of the wind outside to accompany them. the hairs on the back of johnny's neck were on end, an unease setting off alarm bells in the back of his mind following behind ghost.

the déjà vu from earlier isn't comforting anymore. he doesn't feel you watching over him, and the feeling only gets stronger as they approach a doorway ahead, bathed in a red light.

ghost pauses in the entrance, looking back at johnny and waiting for his affirming nod before pushing forward. the room is empty, the same as the rest of the building, save for the table sitting against the far wall.

there's something else there, he notices as he creeps closer to get a better look. a frown darkens his expression. it's a laptop, untouched and central on the table, a strange contrast to the almost methodical emptiness around it.

"oi, check this." johnny calls, turning around as ghost stalks over with a similar confusion on his face.

"that what we're here for?" he asks, examining the laptop with a deep frown casting shadow over his eyes.

"looks like it." johnny replies, slowly and carefully picking it up as his frown deepens. he was half expecting it to somehow blow up, but when he lifts the screen it lights up to the desktop with no issue. "that's convenient."

"very convenient..." ghost grunts, jerking his head in the direction of the door and speaking into the radio as he walks ahead of johnny. "price, we've got it. headin' to exfil now."

back on base a few hours later, the four of them with the addition of laswell sit around the table in a meeting room with the doors firmly shut, eyes locked onto the laptop with rapt tension as gaz opens the only file they could recover from the device.

the video starts abruptly with 'the mask' – the pretentious alias of man that heads the organisation they've been steadily eliminating all this time – in front of the camera, the dingy room behind him barely lit, the walls splattered with what johnny could only assume was blood.

"i trust that my message has found you well, task force one-four-one." his voice comes through the speakers, crackly and distorted by the low quality recording. "you have been relentless in your pursuit of us, and i applaud you for your efforts, but it's time to put an end to this."

johnny looks back at price, watching as his expression hardens and his fingers dig into his arms where they're crossed over his chest. it's obvious they've been set up, but it's too late to be concerned with that now. the problem now is how they're going to continue knowing the enemy has information on them that they shouldn't have.

the sound of something being dragged brings his attention back to the video, facing the screen again to see another masked man dumping a person with a bag over their head onto a chair in the centre of the room.

"i have something i believe you will be interested in." the chuckle is audible in his voice even beneath the mask and through the screen.

their wrists and ankles are tied together, and if it weren't for the laboured rise and fall of their chest, johnny wouldn't be sure if they were even alive.

"fuck– a hostage?" price spits, and even without looking he knows laswell is already working on finding a location, if the sound of her rapidly typing is any indication.

"something very… precious to you."

the figure moves to stand behind the person in the chair and yanks the bag from their head. he grabs their jaw and forces them to look up, a sickening laugh meeting johnny's ears as they make eye contact with the camera. 

it's…

it's you.

you're beaten and bruised and covered head to toe in blood, but it's undoubtedly you when the faceless man yanks your head up.

johnny's sure his heart stops.

you're alive. you've been alive all this time. in the hands of a terrorist, and within an inch of your life, but…

you're alive.

"drop your investigation of us, and i will let them live." the masked man stalks back around to your side, still holding your jaw in a vice grip. the way you cower, as much as you can with that man's filthy hands on you, it breaks something in johnny. how long have you been in their hands, how long have you been abused by them?

how long have you been waiting for him?

he feels sick to his stomach, but he can't tear his eyes away. the lacerations on your face, the endless bruises littering your skin – when he spots the ones around your neck, he has to swallow down the bile – and how you just seem so tired, barely even fighting to keep your eyes open.

the masked man looks down to you again, pausing as he directs you to look at him through what seems like a black eye. the five of them watch, frozen by shock or anger or both, as the man rears his hand back and slaps you across the face so hard your head whips in the other direction. a pained, defeated sound escapes you, and johnny’s sure a knife to the chest would hurt less.

"do not disappoint me, captain price, or your sergeant will regret it."

the video cuts to black.

the sight of your face is burned into johnny's retinas, every time he blinks your features are there, dripping in your own blood, the only thing he can see.

"kate, tell me you can find this." price growls behind him, his words sounding distant to johnny's ears.

she hums distractedly. "working on it."

their conversation doesn't register, floating in one ear and straight out the other. you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. it's like his prayers have been answered for once in his life, and it may be some cruel trick from god to find you like this but johnny finds himself praying his thanks anyway.

"johnny…?" simon lays a hand on his shoulder, turning him in his chair to make worried eye contact with his shell-shocked expression. it jolts him out of his thoughts, the energy of the room a controlled kind of frantic as he comes back down to earth.

"that's– it's them, they're–" johnny sputters, gripping ghost's forearm with an absent desperation in his glassy eyes, "simon, they're alive."

he can't stop thinking about how empty your expression looked, the way you didn't have any fight left, and the gravity of what's been happening to you since the moment he lost you slowly creeps up on him.

have you given up hope of them finding you?

"we'll get 'em back, soap, listen to me," price drops a heavy, grounding hand on his other shoulder, halting his spiralling train of thought, "they're comin' home." his voice is resolute, no room for argument where he speaks it almost like a command.

johnny can only nod. 

his head is still light as more rushed conversation happens around him. simon's hand is still on his shoulder, and that might be the only reason he hasn't completely fallen apart yet, but the thread is pulling taught enough to snap. his nails carve dents into his palms but he doesn't have the mind to unfurl them.

"sir, we've got a hit." gaz speaks up from where he's leaned over kate's shoulder, a determined glint in his eye when he meets the captain's gaze. johnny’s head snaps in his direction, his pulse quickening with every word that sparks new hope in his chest. "two hundred klicks northeast of where we found the laptop."

"good work, you two," price is pacing back and forth, scratching his beard with a calculating look on his face. they watch him for a moment, waiting for his command on what their next move will be, but johnny finds his patience wearing incredibly thin.

"the fuck we waitin' for? let's get out there'n go after the wee bastards!" he growls, his narrowed gaze darting between price and the others as he steadily grows more and more restless.

simon shakes his head from beside him, "hold your horses."

"this is delicate, we have to do this one right." price pauses, his eyes losing their hardness as he meets johnny's desperate face. "i know how much this means to you, but you're too close to this, soap."

the pause that follows that is so thick with tension it makes it hard to breath. a boiling type of rage bubbles up in his chest, extending to every trembling limb and turning his vision red. there was no way in hell he wasn't going to be there for you every step of the way when – not if – they rescued you.

"ye can get yersel' right tae fuck!" he spits, his face contorted with anger as he shoots up from his chair and points an accusatory finger at the captain. "that's too far, price, ye cannae keep me outta this!"

"johnny, sit down." simon warns, using the hand still on his shoulder to put some space between him and price, but johnny doesn't budge; this was far too important.

"yer aff yer heid, both of ye's! if ye won't let me come, i'll go mysel', ye fuckin' hear?" he growls, shaking free of simon's hand. his glare travels between him and price, hands wound into fists at his sides.

the air turns heavy as they stare each other down. if price thinks he'll back down on this, johnny would love nothing more than to prove him wrong.

he's moments away from meeting his fist to price's face when gaz stands up and gets between them. "that's his other half, sir. respectfully, he deserves to be part of this." he reasons, giving price a firm look and a small nod to johnny. "you'd be the same in his position."

the tension is palpable. he watches  over gaz's shoulder as the captain deliberates, clearly having an internal battle over the decision, but eventually he sighs and fixes johnny with a stern look.

price closes the distance between them, patting gaz on the arm as he passes. "screw your head on, mactavish. we only get one shot at this, i need to know i can trust you not to fuck it up."

a spark of hope makes johnny's heart race, and he gives price a single resolute nod of confirmation. "i won't, sir."

laswell stands and walks around the table to stand beside price, a similarly firm expression. "we have to play this carefully. they wanted us to find that laptop, i have no doubt they wanted us to find where they are too."

"so what's our angle?" gaz asks.

laswell and price share a look.

"this has to be off the books, there's no way we'll get clearance for this." laswell answers, her expression turning noticeably darker, looking over to price as she continues, "if we want them back alive, we'll have to act fast. that means we're on our own."

the captain nods with no hesitation. "we are getting my sergeant back. i don't care how we have to do it."

they're loading into the back of a helo not even an hour later. the five of them, along with two field medics and the pilot, with the strict instructions in johnny's head to bring you home or to not come back at all.

there's only one coherent thought racing through his mind for the entire; you. getting you back, taking you home, finding the man that took you away from him – and hurt you – and making him pay.

he fishes your tags out of his pocket and presses them to his lips in a lingering kiss, just like he always does. soon, he thinks, it would be you he'd be kissing, not just a remnant of you.

the flight passes by so quickly it's almost as if he'd blinked and they were landing again.

the air is glacial as they ready themselves, preparing for the mask to put up a fight that they fully intend to win. the plan was decided on during the journey; kate and ghost would provide support from a distance while price, gaz, and johnny would confront the bastard head on. his focus is razor sharp, marching through the trees and underbrush, blood rushing in his ears and jaw clenched painfully tight.

the sky is just as strikingly blue as the day he lost you.

bring you home, or don't come back.

they reach a break in the trees, surrounding the small facility they tracked the video to that looked more like a derelict warehouse than a base. either way, the dark figure of their target is visible against the brick wall, surrounded by a number of his own soldiers – johnny counts six as he, price, and gaz make themselves known coming through the treeline. they share a quick look; they know how this will end.

"well met, captain," the mask calls, slowing to a stop and leaving a few metres of space between himself and the three of them, "will you make the right choice, or will your sergeant suffer for your pride, i wond–"

his monologue is cut short by a shot from the darkness of the treeline and lodging mercilessly into the base of his throat. his deadweight hits the ground with a thud that echoes, and in less than a second bullets are flying.

soap tightens his grip on his gun, raising it to glare down the sights and firing at the soldier nearest to him and dropping him with one well placed bullet to the leg and another to the face once he was on the floor.

another shot from the treeline drops one more; four left.

gaz and price take out another two between them in a similar fashion to soap, leaving two still standing – one of whom was advancing fast with the barrel of his gun pointed at soap while the other backed away.

one more shot rings out from the trees and one more body falls, but the last hostile was far too close for comfort now, johnny had no choice but to tackle him to the ground, narrowly avoiding being shot himself on the way down.

a few seconds pass as they wrestle on the ground, both trying desperately to gain the upper hand but falling just short because of the other. from his peripheral soap can see price running to his aid, but his momentary distraction allowed his assailant to take the upper hand and roll on top of him.

hands constrict around his neck, cutting off his airflow, but a well timed shot from price sends him falling over sideways, sputtering blood from the wound in his side.

soap heaves and cough, pulling air back into his lungs and glaring at the body of the man who almost got the better of him. this only meant they were one step closer to getting you back; he was one step closer to having you in his arms again. it didn't matter if he got hurt in the process.

price's outstretched hand suddenly appears in his vision, "get up soap, we've got a job to do."

his daze melts away and he takes the captain's hand, allowing himself to be pulled upright with an affirming nod shared between them.

"good aim, ma'am." gaz calls over the radio, looking down his nose at the steadily declining state of the mask; his infamous facade now cracked and broken, revealing the agonised face beneath.

"bring 'em home, boys." kate replies, and though he can't see her face johnny can imagine the commanding look she's undoubtedly wearing.

gaz backs away as johnny crosses the mess of crimson and dirt to where the mask lays, sprawled out and immobilised by his injuries but still very much alive, giving the fellow sergeant a respectful nod as he goes. "he's all yours, mate."

johnny stands over his fading form, watching with a detached look in his eye as the blood spills from the gaping wound in his neck with every struggled breath, his disjointed intake of air and the pathetic sputters as he inhales his own viscera. there's not a shred of mercy in him as he gazes down at the man, every bit of agony was completely deserved for what he did to you. the death that claws at him would be a blessing.

he gurgles to johnny, raising a weak arm to brush the hem of his trousers as he attempts to expel the words, "pl–ea– plea-se–"

johnny scoffs, dry and venomous. he has half a mind to leave him to suffer until the life finally bleeds from him, but the pure rage he feels listening to this bastard plead for help after putting you through hell for a year is far too strong for him to restrain.

it's unconscious, the way johnny's arm raises to point the barrel of his pistol squarely at the centre of his forehead. he pauses for a moment, if only to see the fear creep into the bastard's expression before his fingers squeeze the trigger and the light is gone from his eyes.

his chest stops heaving and his hand drops back to the mud,  leaving nothing but a few bloody fingerprints in his wake.

johnny pulls the trigger again.

and again, and again, and again, until his face is nothing more than a cavity of gore and lead and the ringing in his ears blocks out everything else around him.

a firm hand comes down on his shoulder and it’s only then does he notice the tension in his muscles and the fierce sneer pulling at his features. his eyes snap to the dark figure in the corner of his vision, meeting the bone white of simon's mask and the frown underneath.

"that'll do, johnny." simon murmurs, his own darkened eyes glaring down at the mangled corpse laying at their feet. he nods, somewhat absently, and turns away from the offending body.

there were more important things he needed to keep his head on straight for.

neither him or simon spare the remains of the mask another glance as they leave him behind. price and gaz are waiting by the entrance for them, and as soon as they're close enough they head together into the dark corridors of the building.

as the creep through the abandoned building, now deep in the cold basement, weapons poised and on high alert, there's a new sense of dread that forms in the back of his mind; what if you're not here after all? what if the mask was bluffing and you're already dead?

johnny grits his teeth and shakes his head to rid himself of that damning train of thought. he couldn't afford to think like that, he wouldn't, but another corridor of empty rooms has his heart sinking like an anchor to his stomach. he's trying to stay hopeful, but every dead end only makes him feel worse.

price grips his shoulder, firm and comforting, with a look in his eye to match as he catches johnny's gaze. "we'll find 'em, soap." 

"i know." he replies, but there's a waver in his voice despite the certainty of his words. price doesn't release his gaze or his shoulder until he moves to follow the others.

he doesn't say much else as the search continues. the ringing in his ears is back, amplified by the eerie silence of the halls. he can feel the air getting colder after each empty room the clear.

the time passes arbitrarily, until there's one last room to check. johnny watches gaz and ghost pry it open, the sound of the lock breaking only just reaching him through the fog over his senses.

gaz pauses once the door swings open, his eyes locked onto something in the room as they widen dramatically. he still doesn't tear his gaze away as his jaw falls open, something frantic in the way he yells, "soap!"

a spark of hope strikes his heart and travels to the very ends of his limbs, a new burst of energy filling him as he shoves past his teammates to stand in the doorway and look into the room himself.

it's you.

curled into yourself in the corner of the damp cell, shivering with your face buried in your knees with your hands clamped over your ears. it's almost uncanny, how small you look. the tremble in your limbs, the fear in your quickened breaths, it was the exact opposite of how you should be, but despite it all…

it's really you.

johnny feels his heart swell painfully with relief, and without another second of hesitation he's skidding to his knees beside you and gripping the cold skin of your wrists. you let out a muffled sob at the contact, and johnny feels his blood turn cold when it meets his ears.

"don't!" you cry, weak and desperate. johnny's caught off guard with how you try to rip yourself away from him, the shakes that wrack your body only increasing when he keeps his hold on you. "get off! please– please don't!"

his heart cracks anew at the distress in your hoarse voice. he feels his eyes well up with hot tears that he has to fight to keep from falling.

"hey, it's me! it's johnny, it's your johnny! look at me, sweetheart, i'm here!" he tries to calm you with his words, keeping his voice low between you both, but you keep your eyes screwed tightly shut.

johnny lets go of your wrists to cup your face in his hands instead, gently turning your head towards him and using his thumbs to stroke soft shapes into your cheeks. the gesture makes your breath hitch audibly, and your eyes slowly open to meet his. "that's it, I'm here, i got ye, yer alright."

"don't– i don't– i can't…" whatever you're trying to say is broken up by the effort it takes you to keep breathing through your sobs. you still try to lean away from his touch, but johnny doesn't let you move far. he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his own breakdown.

"no-one's gonna hurt you again, darlin', i promise ye." he murmurs, searching your glassy eyes while he continues to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your face, wet with your tears. "c'mere, i've got ye…"

with little more resistance from you, johnny gathers you into his arms and presses you close to his chest, they way he'd been dreaming off all the time you'd been apart. he pays no mind to the way the hard ground digs into his knees, and instead focuses on feeling the rise and fall of your ribcage against his own, your heartbeat under his fingertips, and the very real sound of your voice.

"you– j-johnny…" you stutter, your hiccuping sobs gradually fading away as you grip the bulk of his vest like a lifeline. "are you… real?"

"i'm real, darlin'," his voice cracks despite his efforts to stay strong for you. he presses his lips to the tip of your head in a lingering kiss, partly so you won't see the glossy tears in his eyes as he tries to stamp them down. "i'm here. i swear, i'm never lettin' you out of my sight again."

the simple feeling of your weight leaning against him is so overwhelming he's worried he might faint. he lets you calm down, rubbing soothing patterns up and down your arms and back and wherever he can reach, even when the position becomes uncomfortable and the dampness from the floor has seeped into his bones.

eventually though, he does pull back, softly shush you when you protest in the thought that he's leaving you, and cups your head in his warm hands.

"let's get you home, eh?" he smiles. your uncertain eyes dart between his for a moment, searching, before you nod. it's weak and hesitant, but the gesture makes his grin stretch a little wider all the same. "c'mon then, think ye can walk?"

johnny sighs when you shake your head, looking down and seeming almost embarrassed by your frail condition as if any of this was your fault. if he could kill that bastard again, he wouldn't even hesitate.

it's no bother to him to haul you up with him, holding you carefully against his chest with an arm under your knees and the other around your back. you still gingerly grip the top of his vest, your free arm looping itself around his neck and pulling yourself as close to him as you can muster. he gives a concise nod to the others, crowded in the doorway, and they begin the trek back to the helo.

the sunlight causes you to bury your face in the crook of johnny's neck, shielding your eyes from the blindingly bright rays. he allows himself a moment of distraction as they cross the clearing to revel in the feeling. he'd feel the sun on his face again, but he'd never again take for granted a single moment he spends with you.

they're almost to the edge of the clearing, almost departed from that haunted place with a graveyard of mangled bodies in their wake, but he doesn't quite make it to the treeline.

a single gunshot echoes through the clearing and before any of them can react, the shell has found its mark in johnny's leg. the force and shock of it sends him tumbling to the floor, scrambling through the blossoming pain to brace his fall on his arms so he won't land on top of you.

there's yelling, returning fire, but johnny can only focus on covering your body with his own, shielding you from any harm that might find you. even through the agony travelling up his thigh, even when the air is still again, and even when his own eyes are threatening to follow yours in falling shut and succumbing to the weakness that drags him down.

when did you shut your eyes? johnny slips his hand under your hand, grunting in his chest as his weight shifts, and to his horror his fingers come back red.

no, no no. he only just got you back, he cannot lose you again.

he doesn't even register that he's shouting – for help, a medic, something – until his weight is being heaved over ghost's shoulder and you're being taken by price, the cracks in his stony expression only fuel the sick dread making its way up johnny's throat.

back in the helo, in no time but he doesn't remember the journey, he tries to push the medic away who starts working on his leg, slurring for them to help you first. they ignore him, obviously, and if he had any energy left he would've berated them for not listening. ghost holds him down as they secure the tourniquet, and as his vision finally begins to fade, he turns his head to the side so you can be the last thing he sees as he slips into unconsciousness.

for once, he doesn't dream of you.

there are no images of your body, laying motionless under the rubble. he sleeps in blissful oblivion, his head completely silent, and wakes a day and a half later feeling more rested than he ever has despite the wound in his leg.

simon is by his bedside when he finally opens his eyes. it's late, the room dark apart from the fluorescent light bleeding in from the gap under the door and simon's phone highlighting his balaclava. he notices the moment johnny turns his head to watch him, because of course he does, and reaches over to turn on the lamp on the side table without a word.

"mornin', lt…" johnny mumbles, voice hoarse and eyes heavy as he pushes through the tiredness clinging to his senses to sit up in his bed. the light is abrasive to his eyes, but he blinks through the sting and manages a lazy smile towards simon.

"evenin', more like." he replies, a trace of humour in the way his eyes lift at the corners. "been asleep nearly thirty-eight hours."

johnny baulks at that, suddenly feeling a lot more awake from the cold shock that passes through him. "thirty–? jesus wept, i need'ta–" he sputters, wide-eyed as he throws the blankets from his legs and starts to get up, "i need'ta see 'em, how–"

before he can get his feet on the ground however, he's pushed back by simon's hand on his chest, forcing him to sit back and acknowledge the pain radiating from his thigh.

"they're fine, johnny." simon tells him, punctuated with a roll of his eyes before he continues, "been in and out of consciousness, but they're stable."

johnny sighs deeply, relief flooding through his body as he slumps back against his pillows. you're okay, you're alive, you're here, and you're home and safe. his thoughts have already begun racing and despite how much his wounds are aching, he's already set his mind to how he's going to see you as soon as possible.

as if sensing his plotting, simon leans forward to catch his gaze and even through the mask johnny can see the look he's sending him.

"i'm goin' back to bed, so don't do anythin' stupid." simon begins, pushing himself to stand using the arms of his chair and narrowing his eyes as he leans even closer. "if you rip these stitches, i'll put 'em back in myself, clear?"

"crystal, lt." johnny nods, and simon holds his stare as one last warning before he turns to leave – but not without giving him a firm pat just below his bandages that makes him wince, feeling the silent threat behind the gesture as he watches simon exit silently out into the hall.

johnny swings his legs over the side of the bed the second the door swings shut again, a sharp intake of breath following the movement as his weight shifts. surely he could get to where you are without making his wound any worse, he hard could it be?

he makes it two doors down before he realises that this might've been a bad idea. the muscles of his thigh burn and his breath comes out in heavy, stuttered huffs, but despite the strain on his injured body he refuses to give up before he's seen that you're okay with his own two eyes.

the fourth door he peeks through is where he finds you, the sight of your sleeping form instantly overpowering the pain in his leg. he shoulders open the door and beelines in a limp to your bedside, his gaze never once leaving your face until he's close enough to grasp your hand in a slow, featherlight touch like you'd disappear if he made a wrong move. you don't react as he strokes your knuckles, but johnny is more than content to just sit with you, perched on the edge of your bed and taking in the way your breath fills your lungs, the gentle thrum of your pulse under his fingertips on your wrist.

time passes easily like this, until the minutes have gone by and he can find the strength to lift himself into the bed beside you, snaking his arm around your neck and shoulder to hold you close as he settles in, careful not to agitate any of your own injuries.

"i missed you, my love," johnny whispers, dragging his fingers up and down your arm, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, "i missed you so much…"

your fingers twitch in his hold, the steady rhythm of your breathing hitching as a shaky sigh leaves you. johnny freezes, his hand stilling on your bicep and his eyes growing wide.

"john–" the sound of his name passing your lips pulls him out of his shock, and he pulls back to watch your eyes twitch and flutter open. your voice is raspy and still weak, but not even an angel choir could sound sweeter to him. "johnny…?"

"i'm here–" his voice breaks, but he continues anyway, "i'm here, i got ye." he murmurs, careful to keep his voice low despite how much he wants to cry from joy. "how ye feelin'? you comfy, sweetheart? any pain?" he asks, shifting the both of you to sit against the pillows and keep you nestled against his side.

"i'm okay–" your hoarse response is interrupted by a cough that devolves into wet hiccups, your hands curling tightly into his shirt as you look up at him, "it– am i– it's–"

"shushsh, i'm here darlin', i've got ye." he coos, his eyes welling up to match yours, resuming his soothing touch over your arm. you stay like that, for minutes that could've been hours, gazing into each other's eyes while you softly cry and johnny comforts you.

it aches him to see you cry, but he can't help but awe at how beautiful you still manage to be, with cuts and bruises and tears littering your face. his heart swells in his chest with the love he holds for you.

your hand finds its place on johnny's cheek, your staggered breaths calming down at last. he covers it with his own to feel more of your skin on his. a wince crosses your expression as you try to lean up towards him, but he stops you before you hurt yourself any further and leans his forehead against yours.

you pull his face even closer, digging your fingertips into his cheek in an almost uncomfortable sensation, before brushing your lips against his in something like disbelief. "am i dreaming?"

"no, my love," he utters against your skin, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, nudging your cheek with his nose, "this is real."

your breath hitches again when he closes the little space left between you and presses his lips to yours, encapsulating you in a kiss that holds every ounce of desperation he's been holding on to. it's passionate, all-encompassing, and it reminds him of the first time he kissed you all those years ago. your free hand travels up to his hair, tangling the longer strands around your fingers and drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

he's reluctant to let you when you pull away for air, tasting the salt from your last stray tears as he chases your lips.

"say it again…?" you ask in a murmur, your eyes fluttering open again. the look you give him, one of pure hope that you won't suddenly wake up alone, it makes johnny's heart miss a beat.

he squeezes your hand, turning slightly to leave a kiss on your palm. "it's real, bonnie. i'll die before i ever let you go again."

your mouth opens to say something, but you stop yourself just before you can choke the words out, fresh tears building in your eyes again. johnny gives you an encouraging nod, holding your gaze while you muster the courage to voice what you're thinking.

"i–" you begin, your words catching on a lump in your throat, "i watched you leave without me, i had to watch the helicopter disappear and, and you…" your voice fades, eyes darting between his while they gloss with unshed tears once again.

"sweetheart…" he frowns, his heart breaking anew from the anguish that he never wants to hear in your voice.

you swallow thickly, your hold on his hair tightening ever so slightly. "i thought– i didn't think you'd ever find me…"

"i'd always find you." johnny replies, his resolute tone leaving no room for argument. he touches his forehead to yours again and lowers his voice to continue, "even if i had to go tae the ends of the earth, i'd never stop lookin' fer you."

his words release the fresh tears you've been holding back, and with a quiet sob you drop your face to the crook of his neck, gripping his hair and face tighter still. johnny softly shushes you, rocking the two of you back and forth as much as he can with you held close in his arms.

"you're staying with me tonight…" your voice is muffled, spoken into his neck and sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. a comforting nostalgia follows your words, one he can't help but chuckle at.

"would'nae have it any other way, darlin'."

[zablife]

Seamstress, Secretary, Sex-worker, Spy

John x female reader

Summary: You've been seen with John numerous times and now the Shelby family is getting suspicious. Who are you and what's your true relationship to John?

Author’s Note: This was requested by a lovely anon. Tysm for the idea! I hope you don't mind that I wrote them as headcanons. I haven't had much time for full fics recently.

Warnings: language, mention of smut

🌹The first time someone sees you with John you're collecting the laundry, a large basket at your hip piled high with all his unwashed shirts. "Have we got a new washerwoman in town, Charlie?" Curly asks, scratching his head as he sees you passing on the street.

"Don't look like any washerwoman I ever saw," Charlie says ogling you.

💌The second time, you're in the betting shop, nibbling on the end of a pencil as you think of a clever note to leave on John’s desk. Linda rolls her eyes as she complains, "Perfect, they've sent me another useless idiot who can't do simple maths." When you disappear, she assumes you quit. "Thanks be to Jesus for that," she mutters under her breath.

❤️ The third time your presence is much harder to miss, a sharp cry of pleasure erupting from the snug in the Garrison. "Has John got a whore in there?" Isaiah asked, turning to Finn with a wicked smirk. Their suspicions seemed to be confirmed when you left minutes later, money in hand and a smoldering kiss to send you on your way.

🌹 The mystery of your presence remains in the following days and soon Tommy becomes suspicious as well. “I knew he was spending too much time in Solomons’ territory,” he grumbles, pacing the floor of his office. “What if that dodgy fucker sent her here?"

"A spy?" Polly chuckles as she leans back in her chair.

"Why not use a pretty girl to turn his head?," Tommy reasoned with a huff of frustration. When she rolled her eyes in return he shouted, "Everyone knows John thinks with his cock!"

💌 The family meeting begins without John who appears twenty minutes late, stuffing his shirt into the back of his trousers. Running to the meeting from your arms is difficult enough, but now the entire family is boring holes into him, expecting an explanation. When they begin telling him of their suspicions, his mouth drops open.

"You being serious, Tom?" he asks. "All of you?" he looks around the room aghast. Slowly everyone nods. "Bloody hell..." his voice drops as removes his cap and drops into a chair crestfallen.

❤️ Polly begins to look worried, leaning forward at the table to ask, "John, if this girl is going to be trouble, we need to know."

"Always thinking the worst, ain't ya?" he answers bitterly. Then he shakes his head with a little laugh, which angers Arthur first.

"You fucking laughing at us? Finn and Isaiah saw you pay the little tart! What's that about, eh?" he grumbles, anger contorting his face.

"What the fuck did you call her?" John seethes, lunging for his brother. A scuffle breaks out between them which Tommy and Uncle Charlie have to stop before either of them can land a punch.

🌹 John straightens his clothes as he begins, "Yeah, she's my girl. But she ain't a whore and she ain't a spy for Alfie fucking Solomons either alright? Moved to Saltley two years ago with her mum. I had it checked out....'M not as stupid as everyone thinks." He sniffs and takes a look around the room to see disbelief still hanging in the air. "Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

Polly places a hand on his arm, "We're listening, go on."

💌John's eyes soften as he speaks of you. "She takes care of me, does the laundry and shopping, leaves me kind notes..." Eyes glazing slightly at the memory he turns to Arthur adding, "Sucks me dry, I swear to God. Yesterday I thought--"

"We believe you," Polly interjects with a firm nod. Turning to her other nephew she states, "Tommy, I think this item of business is closed."

❤️ You're invited to the next family dinner as a way to placate John, but also for the others to get to know you. When they do, they adore you instantly and John is rightfully vindicated. "Shouldn't have doubted me," John reminds them.

"I know. I was wrong to say you were only thinking with your cock," Tommy apologizes.

"No, I was thinking with me cock, but for once it was the right decision," John admits with a wink.

------------------

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[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone

Little Girl Gone / T.S. (pt. 1)

part two: here

Synopsis: Having been several years since you’d last seen your favorite gangster family, you return to Small Heath a changed woman with a stronger attitude than you had when you left. 

information: this will be a multi part story! idk how many parts exactly, but there will be more!

warnings: none for this chapter!

please leave all comments and reccommendations below! thank you for reading!

“Aye, what does a woman have to do to get a whiskey around here?”, you shouted, rapping your hand on the bar counter. 

You were seated at The Garrison, it was your first stop back in town. You had lived in Small Heath most of your early life, but five years ago you were forced to leave due to your fathers death and your mothers general distrust (and dislike) of the Shelby family. Your mother had kicked you out a few days ago, claiming that you were old enough to be married now, and that she wouldn’t stand for you staying in her house if you weren’t going to look for a husband. 

“Calm down Lady, I’ll- Holy Shit! Y/N, what are you doin’ back!”, a man's voice rang out, making you and the rest of the bar look in his direction. 

Arthur Shelby had always been one of your favorite Shelby siblings, and for good reason. He was loud, funny, and typically a gentleman if you caught him on the right day. You leaned over the bar and wrapped your arms around his neck, nearly bruising him in the process. You had hoped your whole journey here that he would be the first Shelby you saw, and luck had worked out for you this time. 

“Arth, I am sure glad to see you! It’s been a long time, aye?”, you spoke, removing your arms from him and sitting back on your barstool. 

“Hell, it’s been about, what, five years? You don’t show your face around these parts for five fuckin’ years and then you just come back?”, he said, staring you in the face, with a somewhat more serious look in his eye than you had expected. 

‘Yeah, had some family troubles, but I’m back for good now,” you swallowed, “how's all the Shelby’s doin’?” 

“Eh, the usual. Tommys about to run himself ragged, Pol acts like she owns us all, I’m workin’ here now, I actually own the place!” he said, spilling out most of that information in one breath. 

You took a quick survey of the bar, noticing how the decor and table setup had changed since you’d seen it last. The floor was still the same sticky, slimy feeling though. 

“Glad to see you doing well, Arth. Now, please get me a whiskey an i’ll be outta your way!” you spoke, glad to have reunited with Arthur, but not glad to have been out in public this long. 

“Ah, ah. If you think I’m letting you get out of here without seein’ Tom, you’re messed in the head!” He joked, but as you watched him move towards the window to the private room, you realized he wasn’t joking. 

You had not come prepared to see Thomas. He was the only one who never got a goodbye, even though the rest of them didn’t know they were goodbyes at the time. When you were being forced to leave, you managed to sneak over to Watery Lane and have one last conversation with all the Shelbys before you left, and you never told them you were leaving that night. Thomas had been on business, but got home a few minutes after you left. You had regretted not speaking to him then, but now that regret had turned into a fear after hearing about the man he had become while you were away. You had heard things about Thomas Shelby, and they were not things any girl would like to hear about her long-time crush.

‘Oy, that Tommy Shelby is a real whore’

‘I heard he gets around Small Heath like its a full time job’

‘He pays them ya know? Every girl he fucks gets paid, even if theyre not workin’ for it!’

Those were all just some of the things you had heard, and those weren’t even the things you had heard that were related to his newfound habit of murdering those who crossed him. You’ve had your eyes on Tommy Shelby ever since you were 16. Now aged 21, it had been a long enough time that you realized what kind of person you needed to settle with, and logically, he wasn’t it. 

While this entire catalog of thoughts was running through your head, your eyes watched as Arthur got closer and closer to that window. You knew you weren’t ready to see him yet, if you ever would be. So acting on those primal prey instincts, you ran. You hopped off the barstool, and started pushing your way through the crowd of bar patrons, finally having the door insight. You wrapped your hand around the handle, and pulled it open. Stepping into the cool air of the night, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you closed the bar door behind you. Just as you were stepping away from the door to begin your walk to the apartment you were renting, you bumped into something, or rather, someone. 

“Thought I’d let you run from me a second time, aye?”

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“I-I-”, you stammered, not having any idea what to say, now that you were staring at the face of one Thomas Shelby. 

“It’s okay, I’d be nervous too if I ran into someone I left in the dust five years ago.”, he laughed, letting a puff of cigarette smoke roll out of his mouth. 

“Tommy, how did you even know I was out here? I watched Arthur and left before he even opened the window, I don’t underst-”

“Shh. I have my ways, ya know I have my ways.” he spoke, that cool, gravelly voice still hadn’t changed, even after all this time. 

You finally looked up at him, releasing the death stare you had on his chest. He was more handsome now, if that was even possible. His dark hair styled perfectly, like he had touched it up before meeting you outside. His hat was missing, which was a rare occurrence, but you were enjoying the unobstructed view of his face. He was lean, only muscle was visible through his white shirt, and his pants hugged his legs perfectly. He was beautiful, especially in the face. You could see more defined freckles in the glow of the street lamp, along with more defined lines carved into his forehead. You continued to study his face, while his studied yours. You had definitely matured in your time away, but not only on your face. Your lips had gotten fuller, cheek bones more pronounced, and hair longer; but you had also grown tits and an ass. You knew you had assets, and fully planned on using them to your advantage, just not on Tommy Shelby. 

“My God, Y/N, I’d say you grew up…”, he trailed off, eyes looking all over your face and body. 

“Yeah, that tends to happen to people as they age, Tom.” you laughed, feeling suddenly insecure as you stood under his microscope. 

“What are ya doin’ back in town? I imagined you ran off and got married or somethin’,” he spoke, “But, I don’t see a ring on that finger so either that can’t be right or you married a poor bastard.” 

“Not married Tom, never was. It’s part of the reason I’m back in town, but-” 

“What are ya doin’ tomorrow evening?”, he cut off, not even letting you finish explaining how you didn’t want to talk about it right now. 

“Nothing I know about, why?”, you asked, having no idea what was about to come out of that pretty mouth of his. 

“Join me for dinner, yeah? I’d love to sit down and have a chat with ya, but I got to go handle some business right now.”, he spoke, suddenly sounding strained. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll get dinner with ya, where at?” 

“My place, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow at 6, Goodnight, Y/N.” Tom spoke, brushing shoulders with you lightly as he passed by, heading back into The Garrison.

[lundenloves]

simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

you tell simon you’re pregnant with his third child.

no warnings | wc 700 | taglist | masterlist

Your third child with Simon: a story told over the phone. On a busy, frantic morning at the barracks, Simon had barely pulled himself a minute to stand aside and return your missed call.

“Everythin’ alright?” His words composed, although every time you phoned he liked to imagine the worst. Stood a good distance from his unit, hand clutching onto the opposite bicep with a habitual frown. “You phoned.” His jaw tight, the heel of his boot digging into the dirt beneath with a stomp.

“Yeah, yeah no, all fine.” You were spitting the words, pacing around your kitchen and haphazardly tidying with the phone snug between your shoulder and ear.

Simon shifted. “So. What is it?” You could hear the loud bustle of masculine laughter from far away on the other line, the uniformed men audibly walking past your husband.

There wasn’t a break between his words and your own, “I’m pregnant again.” You said without much gusto, as if this was routine by the third child and a few scares. “And I um, I don’t know how.” His silence on the line was briefly penetrated by a murmur of his own confusion, the sound of his weight shifting against the dirt beneath him.

“D’you want me to come back?” His dry tone wasn’t met with an answer, the pair of you in silent thought for when this could’ve happened. “I’d need to know, now, ‘cause—“

“No. I don’t need you back.” You cut him off, gaining a grunt of acknowledgment on the other end. “I just wanted to tell you.”

“Do you want it?”

A long sigh came. “Do you?”

The sound of crunching dirt grew louder as someone approached and you knew he wouldn’t answer you now. “Can I phone you back, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah. No rush,” Simon forcefully grabbed Soap’s shoulder as he walked past, pulling him to the side. “Just think about it though.” You continued, Johnny staring at the silencing gesture Ghost had held up, his finger mere centimetres from the Sergeants face.

“I will, I will.” He glared at Soap, brows fixed into a frown at his lieutenants nods. “Yeah, yeah, right bye.” His eye contact was ditched. “Love you, bye.” The phone hastily shoved back into his pocket, hands on his hips.

“Well?” Soap snorted. “What’s this about?”

“She’s pregnant. Again.”

Johnny’s brows shot upward, smile intruding his face, and leaning back to clap his hands together in amusement. “Christ, Lt. ‘Yous fucking like rabbits when you’re home, eh?”

“Fucking keep it down.” Ghost warned.

“So what’s the deal?” Soap rubbed his face, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No idea how it happened.”

“Well, I assume the shagging had something to do with it.” His joke forced a laugh from Simon, shaking his head and lifting the bottom of his balaclava to rub at his jaw. “A third kid, mate. Can you hack it?”

Simon shrugged.

“Could be a boy.” Soap said absently, receiving a face of sarcastic agreement. Everyone knew Simon was never having a boy, the nurses especially were the first to say as much all those years ago. “Just go home. Talk in person.”

“I’ll phone her.”

And that was Johnny’s cue to leave, nodding once before taking backwards steps. Simon turned around, dialling the number with his eyes to the floor, absently nudging the dirt around with his boots. “Yep.” You answered, clearly still in your busy state.

“I’ll come back.” He murmured.

“No. You’re going away—“

“For three months.” His bite wasn’t intentional. “And by then it’ll be an issue.” The logical side of his brain was forever more in tune than its emotional counterpart. “So let’s just sort it now, yeah?”

And that you did, resulting in the birth of a third child nine months down the line. Miraculously, he was even there for the birth. His first and probably last out of your three children, and god was that an experience. He hadn’t known what to expect but what he came out with was the knowledge that childbirth is seemingly more traumatic than anything he had ever seen on the field. And that was impressive.

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[waratah-vroom]

Silly Season (ln4)

Liked by alex_albon, landonorris and 700,284 others yourusername: Oh Canada, you have my heart

lilymhe: Of course you'd post food over race content 😂

“And here we have former F2 champion and the first Williams' driver to win a race since Pastor Maldonado-” you heard Ted call your name as the camera man shoved his lens in your face. “Have a second to talk?”

“Always for you, Ted,” you put on your sparkliest smile for the camera and leant against the railing outside the hospitality building you had been seconds away from entering.

“You and Alex did well in qualifying, did that send some well needed morale throughout the team?”

“P6 and P10. Not too bad, eh? Of course doing well in quali is always a mood boost.”

“While I have you I have to ask about Lewis' contract negotiations.”

You groaned, “you were doing so well, Ted!” 

This particular topic had followed you since you’d joined the Mercedes Junior team alongside George in 2017. You became their test driver in 2019 with all eyes watching as you became the first female driver to win the F2 championship. George had been promised an eventual Mercedes seat first and you were happy to wait your turn at Williams. 

George hadn’t exactly been thrilled as he watched you accomplish more with the midfield team than he had ever been able to; scoring five podiums and one win since you’d joined the team three seasons ago.

“I know, I know, but the rumour around the paddock is that you’re next in line for the Mercedes seat when Lewis retires.”

“If Lewis retires. And I don’t think he will.” Toto had come to you as soon as they had started contract negotiations. He’d told you flat out that they wanted to keep the former world champion on the team.

“So there’s no plans for you to reunite with your former team mate?”

“Not that I’m aware, no. Alex and I work well together and I’m quite happy with how things are going. We won a race last year, had a few podiums-”

“And the season’s been looking good this year. You’ve gotten points in every race so far.”

“I know! In a Williams!”

“In a Williams!” Suddenly, Ted did what you’d hope he wouldn’t and noticed where you were standing. “I know we’ve been talking about a move to Mercedes, but how about a move to McLaren?”

The cameraman zoomed out to show you leaning against the railing outside McLaren hospitality.

“Would you believe it if I told you they’re the only team that has the name brand Wagon Wheels?”

It didn’t seem like he believed you. “You’ve come all the way to McLaren for biscuits?”

“Not just biscuits, Ted. Wagon Wheels. Plus I need to rub my three hundredths of a second lead in Lando’s face.”

“A true quality of a good sportswoman.” He could sense you were getting fidgety as you kept checking your watch, so like a professional he began to wrap it up. “Lovely talking to you as always, I’ll leave you to your Wagon Wheels.”

“If I see you later I’ll sneak you one,” you grinned as you finally slipped away to enter the building.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“What took you so long? I saw you outside ten minutes ago.” He’d tossed his phone on the couch beside him as soon as you’d stepped foot into his room, shrugging off your spray jacket. He held his arms out wide, a silent signal for you to move into his reach, which you happily did as his hands found rest on your waist.

“Got caught talking to Ted about my move to Mercedes,” your words were mumbled through a mouthful of biscuit and marshmallow. You hadn’t been lying about the Wagon Wheels. 

He pulled you forward until your knees hit the couch, forcing you onto his lap. “When did that happen?” 

Licking chocolate off your lips you smirked, “It didn’t. Hi baby,” you slung your arms over his shoulders and his cold hands slipped beneath your tee-shirt.

“I missed you today.”

“You saw me in the pit lane an hour ago.”

“I know, but it’s not the same. I missed this,” he squeezed the flesh on your hips, his lips catching the underside of your jaw when you moved your head back. “You coming to my room tonight?”

“I dunno,” you fiddled with the drawstrings on his hoodie, twisting them around you finger. “Got a big race to prepare for tomorrow. Gotta keep my lead.”

You knew you should sleep alone before the race and get the full eight hours your coach was always talking about, but this man had his fingers wrapped around your heart and you knew it wouldn’t take much of his pleading or puppy dog eyes to end up in the same bed.

“Baby,” his little whine was always the same when he wasn’t getting his way, and you hated to admit it was adorable. And hard to turn down.

“We’re not having sex.”

He nodded, “just cuddling. I’ll even come to your room.”

“You say that but we’ll get in bed and you’ll try something,” you knew from experience. It’d happened before and all the thoughts about sleep and rest went out of your head the second he had his head between your thighs.

“I won’t, I swear. I’ll shower before I come over, I still have those pictures-”

“Lando,” you didn’t need to be reminded of the photos hidden away behind a passcode on Snapchat.

“Pretty please? I won’t even say anything if you want to watch that show you like.”

“You wanna watch Never Have I Ever?”

“No,” he drew out the syllable and you could feel him fidget beneath you. “But I’ll sit next to you and play on my phone while you watch it.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you,” it came out sarcastically but he just grinned, pressing his lips against your own.

“Do you think we have time for a-”

“Do not even think of finishing that question," you glared at him as he had the audacity to pout, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip as his fingers crept up to tug on the hook of your bra. "You have ten minutes."

part 2 | read more of my writing here.

Made to order for a sweet anon for my perfume collection xx

ﾟ｡ ⋆ mags' radio: Pls join me in my fantasy of williams being a midfield team. I really love the idea of George being jealous that reader has been able to achieve more in a Williams than he ever was. Anyway, I said that I had a bigger backstory for driver!reader and lando, so if you like this let me know and I might write the beginning of there relationship/ them revealing it to the grid. Going to do a part 2/soft launch insta series for them next! ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡

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[gallavichsreddie1128]

Better (Soldier Boy)

Description: Soldier Boy notices that Homelander isn’t nice to his wife so he will do anything in his power to try and get her to leave him.

Word Count:1,852k

He watched from afar as Homelander yelled and screamed at his wife. She had made a mistake and Homelander was yelling at her, not in front of anyone but he still saw it. She was so damn beautiful and sexy, he really questioned how a fuckup like Homelander got a girl like her. “You were supposed to be here with my food 20 minutes ago!” He yelled at his poor wife who was trying to talk. “There was traffic, I’m sorry there wasn’t anything I could do.” “Oh there was traffic, huh? Well maybe next time leave earlier!” Ben couldn’t watch this anymore without wanting to kill him. He had to get that poor woman out of the situation. 

“What can you tell me about Homelander’s wife?” Ben asked the boys as he walked through the door. They all looked up at him. “Y/N?” Hughie asked. “Yeah she’s his wife, right?” Hughie nodded. “So what can you tell me about her?” “Why do you wanna know about her?” Billy asked. “Homelander treat the poor girl like shit.” He said. Billy shrugged. “Eh well maybe the lady likes it.” He suggested. “Didn’t seem like it.” Everyone was confused as to why he wanted to know about her and why he cared. “What do you wanna fuck her or something?” MM asked. Soldier Boy looked at him with disgust but honestly she was breathtaking, maybe he did. “No, But she shouldn’t be treated like shit by her own husband.” He said. “She’s his wife and has been for years. She’s 10 years younger than him and she is unemployed.” Frenchie told him. They all look at the man. “What? It’s common knowledge.” “You won’t get her out of that marriage, so don’t try.” Billy told him.

Ben didn’t listen nor care what the others said. He kept a secret from the others. Homelander was his son and he hadn’t told anyone yet. He didn’t like the fucker and wanted what he had. He could treat her better than he was. It had to be fate when he saw her getting her poor excuse of a husband some food she could make. He wasn’t sure why he agreed to be the one to go get groceries for the boys but he was glad he did. He watched as she tried to reach something from the top shelf but couldn’t. He chuckled to himself and walked over to her. “Excuse me miss, do you want some help?” He asked her. She looked over at him and stopped reaching.

“If you don’t mind.” She said. He shook his head. “Not at all.” He picked up the item she was trying to reach for and handed it to her. “Thank you so much.” She said with a smile. He loved that smile now that he got to see it. “No problem.” He said and watched her put the item in the cart. “You’re Homelander’s wife, right?” He asked. She nodded but didn’t look too happy. “Yup.” She said. “Must be awesome being married to a superhero.” He said. She didn’t look thrilled about it. “Yeah, I guess.” She said. “Are you okay?” He asked her. “Yeah yeah I’m fine.” she lied. He knew she wasn’t telling the truth but didn’t say anything as he went his own way. 

It was days later that he ran into her again. As much as he would like to plan these things it’s been accidentally. She was ordering coffee and he walked up behind her in line. His eyes widened once he realized she was in front of him. “Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?” He asked. She turned around and smiled at him. “You’re the guy from the store the other day.” She said. He smiled at her. “Yeah. My name’s Ben by the way.” He tells her. “Y/N.” She said. Though he already knew that. “You getting coffee for Homelander?” He asked her. She shook her head. “No he doesn’t need any. It’s for me.” She said. “Dealing with superheros stressful?” He asked. “Sometimes Yeah.” What she completely forgot about was the fact that Homelander had eyes on her at all times. 

“Who the fuck was that guy at the coffee shop today?” He growled. “Just someone that recognizes me.” She shrugged. “Yeah well you had a whole conversation with him.” Homelander yelled. “Am I not allowed to talk to anyone?” She asked, clearly pissed off. “Not if it’s a guy.” She rolled her eyes at him. For being The Homelander he was very insecure. “Ok whatever.” She said to him. Tears threatened to spill down her face. She was so sick of getting treated like shit.

The next time they run into each other Y/N can’t hold back anymore. He sees her at a bar drinking which surprises him. He was there to get laid but now he’s curious why she was here. He walked up to her looking around to make sure Homelander wasn’t near. “Hey 3rd times a charm, right?” She turned towards him and laughed. “I guess it is.” Her laugh wasn’t as warm as it usually is, something was wrong. “What’s got you at a place like this?” He asked. “What? You're saying a lady can’t drink her problems away.” She joked. He chuckled and shrugged. “What problems are you drinking away?” She bit her lip and debated on telling him everything. She barely knew him but it didn’t feel like it. “Everything.” She said and looked at him, sadness filling her eyes.

“What’s Everything?” He asked, taking a seat next to her. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her drink. “You would think being married to a superhero would be amazing but it’s not.” At first she had a small smile but it dropped as she continued talking. “Homelander isn’t a nice guy. He’s not what the world thinks he is.” She whispered. He couldn’t believe she was telling him this. He already knew that but the fact that she trusted him enough to tell him. “What do you mean?” He asked. “He’s not physically abusive but he’s emotionally abusive.” She tells him. “Then why are you with him?” She let out a laugh. “I can’t just leave. It’s not that simple.” She shrugged. “Why not?” He was pissed at this point. “He won’t let me. He’s crazy, Ben.” She looks at him with tears in her eyes.

All he wanted to do was give her a hug and hold her in his arms and tell her she doesn’t have to deal with him anymore. Before he could do anything they heard a hard landing outside the bar. The door pushed open and the devil himself walked in. Everyone in the bar started cheering and taking pictures of him. He waved and smiled and walked through the crowd to where Ben and Y/N were. Ben looked at Y/N and saw her eyes widen. “Don’t worry Y/N. You won’t have to deal with him anymore.” Ben whispered to her. “There you are Honey. I’ve been looking all over for you.” He said as he approached her. She looked up at him with fear in her eyes. He still hadn’t noticed Ben. Y/N watched Homelander’s smile drop as he saw Ben.

But Ben wasn’t just Ben to him, he was Soldier Boy. “Honey, you didn’t tell me you met Soldier Boy.” He said. Y/N eyes widened and looked at Ben. “You’re Soldier Boy?” She asked him. He looked at her quickly and looked back at Homelander. “Maybe.” He said. Homelander laughed. “So you’re the man that wants to take my wife away from me?” Y/N looked at him confused. “Ben is just a friend.” Y/N told her husband. “A friend? Sure whatever you say.” Homelander said sarcastically. “You treat your wife like shit, son.” Homelander was confused by him calling him son. “Excuse me?” Ben stood up. “You heard me.” Homelander laughed. “Is that what she tells you?” “No, I’ve seen it for myself. You can play the good guy act all you want around the world but I know how you are and buddy you aren’t tough.” Homelander’s eyes turned red.

Y/N quickly jumped up from out of the chair and ran to Homelander’s side. “John, it's okay. Let’s go home.” She begged. “Y/N, Don’t leave with him.” Ben told her. Homelander looked at him with anger. “What’s your angle here, pal?” He walked closer to Ben. Ben wasn’t scared of him. That showed in his eyes. “Y/N deserves better than a poor excuse of a man like you.” He said. “Oh what? Like you?” Homelander asked amused. Ben shrugged. “Maybe.” That’s what made Homelander slam him into a table. Y/N gasped with tears in her eyes. The table broke but Ben got right back up and they fought. They were both Supes so it wasn’t an easy battle. The crowd watched in shock as the two beat each other up. Totally forgetting they were in public. Y/N couldn’t move. She was shocked by everything that was said and was happening. Ben was Soldier Boy and trying to take her from Homelander?

She watched as he straddled her husband and punched his face over and over again with super strength. Tears streaming down her face as she yelled at them to stop. Once Homelander was barely conscious Ben stood up and spit on him. The crowd didn’t make a noise as he got off the man and walked over to Y/N. He held out his hand to take. She had a moment to think on whether that was a good idea or not. He just beat her husband. But she thought back to all the times Homelander was mean to her after all she did for him. He deserved to get his ass beat. She took Ben’s hand which made him smile. They walked out of the bar leaving Homelander on the ground in pain. 

They sat by the lake in silence. Not much was said since they left the bar. Y/N was still in shock by everything and didn’t know what to say. Ben looked over at her and saw how shocked she was. He didn’t blame her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me being Soldier Boy.” He said. She looked at him. “Was this your plan?” She asked him. He looked at her confused. “What was my plan?” “To get me away from him?” “Honestly yeah. I saw you two weeks ago arguing and he was being rude as fuck to you for no reason.” He said. “So all the times we ran into each other they weren’t by accident?” He laughed. “Actually they were.” She nodded and looked down at her wedding ring. “Well I don’t know how to thank you.” She whispered. She was now twirling the ring on her finger. “Go on a date with me.” He said. She looked up at him. She didn’t say anything to him. She got up from the bench and took her ring off. She looked down at it one more time before throwing it into the lake.