#in my body. and we probably won’t do rai or if we do it’ll be months until we do it

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

doctors are like “look out for symptoms” and im like “but which ones and how do i know they’re not caused by one of my other issues” and there’s no answer

[yin-shimo]

Converting Fem-Frame Mesh to Masc-Frame

This tutorial assumes you have basic knowledge on blender and sims4studio, so i won’t go over basic things. As always, you’ll need to export the mesh you wish to convert first. Next, open it in blender and switch into edit mode.

Hit ‘UV sync selection’ to make the work easier.

Now, with the ‘L’ key, select only the body parts and separate with the ‘P’ key. Your mesh should look like this:

Then, hide the body (hit ‘H’ key or hit the eye icon in the outliner tab) and import the needed male body mesh. If your object is only a top or only a bottom you may not need the whole male mesh, but just to be safe, I prefer importing both regardless for a better view of how the weights look later.

Before editing the mesh, make sure to merge by distance so nothing breaks or gets crunchy in the sculpting step.

The Main Event:

aka sculpting the mesh to the male body. Go into sculpt mode and select ‘elastic deform tool’, either through the button itself or the keys ‘shift+space 8’. Then make sure to select ‘mirror: x’ in the symmetry tab so that everything you do on one side occurs on the other to keep it all even.

If all's well, when you move around the mesh, your cursor should look like this:

You may need to switch between ‘material view’ and ‘solid’ with x-ray on as shown in my recording to get a good look and keep everything proportional. 

Before moving onto weights, I usually look back at the original female body to see what parts were deleted as an outline for how I will now delete parts from the male body. Visually, the easiest way for me to do this is I select both bodies, with the female pre-highlighted and the male unselected, and then select parts while holding the shift key.

Separate and hide the other meshes, leaving you with something like this:

If you don't see any holes anywhere, we can now move onto weight painting.

Weights

 The first thing you want to do is to look for the cas-breast weights and delete them. Theyre not needed and will only fuck up things later LOL.

Now, go to the ‘spine_1’ weight, it’ll probably look like that, which we dont want. So hit the button ‘weights’ and select ‘normalize all’ as such : 

Spine1 should now look like this

After this point, weight painting is very dependent on the mesh itself, so, the most I can say is to un-hide the rig and rotate various bones to ensure the clothes move properly and/or don’t clip anywhere. If it does, those are the weights you'll need to fix.

When youre done, merge both meshes together and import it. Once it's imported, youll wanna export it again to fix the uv_1.

Why? Because we merged vertices earlier and that impacts the way the uv_1 turns out. Seeing lines go across every side of the mesh negatively impacts the way itll morph on the body in-game. Everything has to fit correctly. Example of a not well uv_1:

Once the mesh is re-imported, separate the body from the dress/clothes so the uv_1 editing happens /only/ to the clothes. Add a complete male mesh again, select your outfit and go to modifier properties and select ‘data transfer’. Make yours look like this:

After applying it, it should look something like this:

And now you're free to combine the two meshes and to merge by distance again!!

Finally, import and check how it looks in game. It's usually never perfect the first time…

How did this dress turn out? Well, like I said, its imperfect still but looks like this in-game atm:

(all mascframe-male)

[pixeldistractions]

In the morning, Jordan put some aloe on his sunburn. It was time to get back to the grind.

The morning session went as well as it ever did, which was not to say he made much progress. There were no notable falls to mention, and nothing actually broke, but the sunburn made every movement torture. So he ducked out of the session a little early and went to hide.

He already had a favorite spot in the adventure park. It was a small rock ledge that was flat enough for sitting, covered by the shade of a lone tree, and had a spectacular view. He paid a hefty price tag for these classes, so he would rest when the climbing got the best of his bruised body and ego. The best part—this was the only spot in the park where he got a good cell connection.

He checked his texts. Maria had sent a picture and an emoji kiss. 😘

The emoji was sweet, but it left him wanting. Her pictures left him speechless, but also filled him with ache. He knew the real thing, and nothing less would do. Not anymore, not after six weeks apart. He wanted her real lips on his, her warm skin under his fingertips, he wanted to squeeze her supple thighs and wrap her legs around his hips.

As it turned out, they both wanted dates on the calendar.

He called her back.

“I have good news,” Maria said. “I mean, I hope you’ll think it’s good news. I can have five days off on November 5th. Steph said she’d cover some of my shifts after Justin finished his exams. Or else a weekend on October 22nd.”

“Really? That’s next weekend.”

“But the train ride is almost ten hours each way, so I’ll only get to see you for about… twenty-four hours?”

“I would absolutely pay good money to be able to touch you for twenty-four hours.”

“It would be cheaper if I can get someone to watch Johanna.”

“And more time for touching,” he said. “A better bang for my buck.”

“Hmmm,” she mused, “Why does this sound like hiring a prostitute?”

“Ha, I’m in Nevada,” he said. “It’s totally legal here.”

She giggled. “Can you afford that? The train tickets, I mean, not the prostitute.”

“Well, I mean, I could probably afford it once.”

“Once,” she said somberly.

“Or both? I’ll pick up some jobs. We can do both.”

“No, you don’t have to,” she said. “I mean, I can pay for one of them.”

“Then both?” He felt unreasonably excited. She could be here so soon, and that was more optimistic than he’d felt about anything in weeks. Just ten more days. “What do you think? Then I can see you next week… But, I guess, only for twenty-four hours.”

“Oh, God, it sounds awful when you say it like that,” she said. “Would you be okay with that? I don’t know if I can do that. Twenty-four hours together and then just, like, going home? How can we do that?”

Then, as if to torture him, the morning sun moved over the lone tree and blasted down its midday rays on his burnt skin. His favorite spot in the park now felt like the fires of hell.

“Wait, please try,” he pleaded. “Please? We’ll have so much fun, you won’t even think about it. And It’ll get easier. In December, training breaks for the winter, and I can come to Wisconsin for a bit.”

“How long is a bit?”

“Longer than five days, I promise.”

“And then? After that?” she wondered. “Weekends here and there. Twenty-four hours at a time. It’s not even really about the money. I don’t know if I can keep taking long weekends and vacations. Unless I quit my job.”

“I would never ask you to do that.”

“You wouldn’t?”

Somehow that must have been the exact wrong answer, because she went quiet in the way she did when she was trying not to cry. He knew the difference; he’d unfortunately been the reason for her crying a few times now.

“Maria? What is it?”

She was silent for seconds more, but he could hear her breathing, shaky and slow. Then she said, “It does feel like putting it back on the shelf. It’s going to feel that way every time.”

“I know,” he said. “And I’m so sorry. But are you still gonna come? You can think about it. If you want, we can just do the November week when you can stay longer. I don’t want you to be sad.”

“Well, now I’ll be sad if I don’t come, too,” she said.

“Okay, then come,” he said. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

He knew she wouldn’t be okay with this. He knew it before they even started. But he’d been hopeful when she wanted to convince him otherwise. Now there was a growing realization of what this would feel like long-term. It wasn’t the carefree dream life he imagined.

— from “boxes and squares #4.1: first fall apart” (2/5)

Next ->

[asterhaze]

Horror Prompt: Write a story from the perspective of someone who is becoming more and more aware that this process is happening to them. NOT like the baby is swapped out when already birthed either~

(Sorry to paraphrase, it's just the story is already long. Thank you, @doublegoblin, for the prompt. I had an absolute blast writing this.) 

Planet Batman

Genres: Light Horror - Long Post Copyright © 2023. Aster Haze. All rights reserved.

Video Log, Relative Date 238450 

[Audio Only]  

Something got me today, you know. Funny, I thought you should know about it before I told MED. Probably won’t tell MED anyway, it’s just an itchy spot. Anyways, we were checking out Gregaliton Ac - A planet I nicknamed Batman because there are so many freakin’ bird-bat things flying around. Figure he must be running around somewhere, haha! 

Anyways, those bird-bat things? They can be really small. Like the size of your thumb when they’re babies, it turns out. They don’t weigh a thing and will climb all over you if you sit still long enough. I had a cut in my HAZMAT, thin as the side of a coin and only a few centimeters long. Got totally overlooked since the planet was deemed bio-safe. One of those damned things must have nibbled on me through that hole and now I have this tiny itchy spot that is driving me insane. 

I scratch and scratch and all it seems to do is spread. Got some antihistamines and they don’t seem to be doing much other than making me tired as hell. It’s also started burning since I’m scratching so much, so I’ve decided just to leave it alone. Anyways, Darling, please don’t tell MED or Cap. This planet is a big break for me, especially since the bat-things are so easy to study, I really think I can get a few papers on extraterrestrial life going and get our names out there but if they find out I didn’t report this as soon as it happened-- they’ll expo me back to Earth and I’ll be done. 

I’ll send you another log in about four earth weeks. Love you baby. 

Video Log, Relative Date 238510 

[Audio Only] 

Sorry, I can’t get this damn thing to send you a video log. For some reason, it’s only sending out the audio file. It’ll have to do until I get back to port. Everything’s fine, just fine. That itchy spot went away and it’s like nothing ever happened. We found out the bird-bats drink blood, which I could have told you just by looking at them, and I pretended to have a cold to get some blood tests secretly run. Ran in there after hours and copied the results myself and you know what? Nothing. I told you I’d be totally fine. 

They did say that if anyone gets bitten by these things they’re SOL until we get back to port since the full-body scanner is down. No X-rays, no MRIs, Nothing like that. Gonna put them in solitary as a sort of quarantine. So I gotta make sure this stays a secret so I can study these things. I feel stupid for telling you, but I guess you really needed to know. I’m trusting you not to tell anyone. 

Anyways, let me tell you more about these bird-bat things… 

Video Log, Relative Date 238590 

[Audio Only] 

Something strange happened to me, Darla. I didn’t want to say anything before, but now it’s obvious. My eyes have been changing color for the past few weeks. I didn’t even notice because they’ve been changing so slowly. You know how I am about my wrinkles, I’m always looking in the mirror, but sure as shit they’ve changed completely. Brown straight into a very bright, noticeable, blue.

George is the one who noticed a few weeks ago, when my eyes were about halfway to being blue. Asked me if I always had blue-brown eyes. Said he’d never seen eyes like mine. Looked into them for a long, long time, admiring them.  I keep getting compliments on my eyes, people keep looking into them when they’re talking to me. Like…really looking into them and it’s freaking me out. 

Don’t worry baby, I only have eyes for you. Haha! I do miss you though. I never thought I’d be bored on a planet with this many bird-bats flying around. They’re always on the ship, trying to claw their way in with their tiny claws, and they never get anywhere. It’s amusing to say the least. 

We think we landed close to where they give birth since every one of the bird-bats we’ve seen around here only get about as big as your hand. Elsewhere, on the mountains though, they’re as big as a lion. We’re pretty sure they drink blood as babies and then end up as cannibals since we haven’t found another living thing on this planet except for the bird-bats and a bunch of plants. At least the little shits sleep underground during the day, or I’d never get any sleep. 

Yeah, yeah. I know you hate it when I get my schedule turned around but how am I supposed to study them if they’re sleeping? 

Video Log, Relative Date 238690 

[Audio Only]  

I’m so bored my appetite has gotten horrible. I eat and eat and nothing seems to fill this void I have in my stomach. I end up eating so much I throw everything up and I’m starving. They gave me a blood transfusion today, turns out Georgie and I have the same blood type, and I felt amazing afterwards. I keep joking that I must have had bad blood. MED isn’t too worried about it, I’m healthy otherwise. They think I have some sort of deficiency in something the blood tests aren’t picking up so they’ve put me on a liquid diet, lots of iron pills, and they’re planning on doing a few more iron transfusions to see if it will help. 

Video Log, Relative Date 239450 

[Audio Only]  

Honestly, that blood transfusion helped more than anything. This liquid diet does nothing for me, so I’ve quit. Between the iron transfusions and a little bit of water, I feel okay enough to go about my week without eating at all. Isn’t that insane? My eyes are still blue, Darla. Stop asking about it, I’ll just let you know when they’re brown again. I think it’s something to do with the atmosphere…maybe the star around this planet. I’m not sure. 

Video Log, Relative Date 239650 

[Audio Only]  

People are starting to think I have space madness, Darla. But I don’t. I’m just so bored all the fucking time. I want to move around, to jump, to climb things, but the gym is closed at night. Am I the only one studying these damned bird-bat things? Why am I being punished for being a specialist? I need exercise too. I think I’m going to go running around outside tomorrow night, climb some rocks or something, I need to clear my head. I have all of this pent up energy and I can’t think straight. I’m starving. 

Video Log, Relative Date 245431 

[Audio Only]  

They caught me climbing things. George has been keeping an eye on me, saying he’s suspicious that I have space madness. Something about how sometimes I ramble on and on about things without a “clear direction” or something like that. I just do that. You remember that log I sent where I rambled on about bird-bats? Right? I just talk and talk. I like the sound of my own voice. 

Anyways, now I have to have someone with me when I leave the ship. They’re still going to let me study the bird-bats until they migrate. They’re starting to eat each other already. I’m finding little bat-bird bits and pieces everywhere, so plenty of chances to take samples. We think they migrate to find bigger prey, eat everything in the area, and then move on again until they reach the mountain to mate and start the process all over again. I’m still so confused as to why they’re the only species on this planet and how they’ve lasted so long. It’s so strange. 

Video Log, Relative Date 245652 

[Audio Only]  

Next time George sends you a log, I want you to delete it. He’s videoing me all the time, trying to find proof of me having “space madness” so he can get me in solitary. He saw me looking over the HAZMAT suits. I wanted to make sure there were no holes, Darla, I really did. Remember the hole? That suit was still there. What if someone else got in it and got nibbled on by a bat-bird? Then we’d have to go home and my paper would be null and void.

A paper. I’m obsessing over that damned paper.  

What if George is right and I do have space madness? 

…

That’s impossible. I had all of those tests run and the only change I’ve experienced is the eye color change. Maybe a little ditzyness. Poor appetite. Hell, some people get that just from being away from home too long. George is getting into my head because I’m still starving to death and all of these people keep staring into my eyes when they talk to me still. It’s disgusting. They’re disgusting. I wish they’d leave me alone. 

Video Log, Relative Date 245662

[Audio Only]  

I’m sorry I sounded so frustrated last time. I’m just tired of having people up my ass. But I have good news. George tried to tell Cap that he didn’t like how obsessed I was with the HAZMATs, the whole “space madness” thing. When the Cap asked me about it I told him to read the report I made on the suits, including where I marked the suit with the hole and made a comment that George seems pretty obsessed with the whole space madness and gets antsy around the HAZMATs. I’ll be honest with you Darla, I can’t really believe it. Cap apologized and now I’m allowed to run around on my own again. 

He threw George into solitary for harassment. George is the one getting in trouble for not reporting a hole in the suits, not me. It took a lot of talking, a lot of fenagling, but I got the job done. I won’t bore you with the details. Point is, George is in solitary and things are looking up for me for as long as we are on Planet Batman. 

I told Cap about the gym and he opened it up for me for a couple of hours a night, so I haven’t gotten in trouble for climbing for a long time. I’ve gotten pretty good, surprisingly good, it’s like my hands just…know where to go. Like my feet just glide right into place. I fucking love it. Not as much as I love you, but pretty damn close. 

Video Log, Relative Date 245700

[Audio Only]  

I’m really ready to be home. Everyone and everything is getting on my nerves. Especially George. They haven’t let him out of confinement, but I figured I’d pay him a visit just to be nice. I know it’s called solitary, but they let you talk to them through the wall since they’re not in real trouble. George and I used to be friends before all of this, you know, you remember George, so I thought I’d pay him a visit just to be nice. Yeah, because George and I were friends before all of this. Just to be nice.  

…

Oh fine. I wanted to show him a smug look, okay? 

When I got there, we of course got into an argument. Things got heated and…I have a strike on my record now. Cap said he’s just going to mark me down for bad behavior because I’ve never had a strike before. Should expire before we get back to Earth so it won’t go against our credits. I’m sorry Darla, it’s just…everyone and everything is getting on my nerves. Especially George. They haven’t let him out of confinement, but I figured I’d pay him a visit-- 

Video Log, Relative Date 245705 

[Audio Only]  

Georgie is dead. They found him this morning out behind the rocks that the ship kicked up when it landed. Seems like he fell from on the ship somehow. I have no idea how he could have gotten up there without flying, and the bird-bats are all gone, so I’m not quite sure what happened. Honestly, I have no clue. Not a single one. Not even a crumb of an idea of what happened to poor old George and his magnificent body. 

The best thing about this, Darla? I’m finished with my papers. They’re even going to let me come back here in a few rotations to follow up my work. Cap and MED are ecstatic and are calling this mission a total success. I have to say with George gone, that statement is impeccably true. 

Love you, Darla. We’ll be taking off in a few days. 

Video Log, Relative Date 245709 

[Audio Only]  

What the fuck, Darla? What the hell is wrong with you? I never got bit by one of those things. I got nibbled, NIBBLED, they never even drew blood. I never stole my medical records, I copied them. Listen, I know you’re angry at me for not sending you a video log for most of the trip, since my eyes changed color, but I can’t believe you’d rat me out like this. You’re lucky my paper was already done or I’d be considering a divorce. Hell, I’m considering one anyway. What in the world makes you think I killed George? He fell, Darla. All you have to go on is a video log you said I sent, which I didn’t, and… you know what Darla? Forget it. We can talk about it when I get home. Consider yourself lucky the Cap thinks you’re the one who has space madness.

[kathyprior4200]

Heavenly Boss S1 E6: Lying Inductees

The two agents stood and stared in disbelief as the portal closed and the blue light vanished, a blue compass symbol blinking away.

“So, what now?” asked Agent Two.

“What now?!” Agent One beamed with his hands out. “We finally got the evidence we needed to be taken seriously!”

With a swoop of his hand, he cleared a space in front of him. Among the ruined bloodstained pipes, he typed rapidly on a keyboard. Four camera screens lit up after static appeared. The first one showed Blitzo and Moxxie fighting the agents, the second one displayed Millie fighting with her ax. The third showed Loona fighting a guy with a curved sword and the fourth showed in red, Stolas appearing in his demon form, the agents cowering.

Under the flickering rectangular ceiling light, the two agents smiled and put on their sunglasses at the same time.

Agent One paused the screens, showing the faces of a smiling Blitzo, Moxxie in the background, Millie with an ax, Loona with teeth barred and a regal Stolas in battle. The screens faded as “no signal” appeared on them in green. 

“Nobody in corporate is ignoring this,” said Agent One before letting out a dark evil laugh.

Agent One typed in a series of passwords and found the emails of several corporate members. After sending the videos, they proceeded to upload said videos to YouTube, with the title, “WOW! Camera Footage of Real Demons Attacking Our HQ! #D.H.O.R.K.S-4-Life.”

They smiled and looked at each other again. Now that their camera feeds had been sent out, they figured their lives would change for the better.

Then they looked around the debris-filled room, littered with the bodies of their fallen agent comrades. Agent Two had a bloody lip and Agent One was battered in the face. They frowned.

“So...do you think we should call those demon scum back to help clean up this mess?” asked Agent Two.

“Certainly not!” Agent One cried. “Didn’t you see that terrifying owl demon? He was this close to killing us on the spot! Besides, they won’t be coming back.”

Agent Two grinned a bit. “Indeed, not! And those demons won’t be coming back for good once the military and government hunt them down!”

“In Hell?”

“First on Earth, if any more show up,” Agent Two replied, brushing off her shirt. She began to lift up debris and move it around. Agent One swept up dirt and glass shards on the floor, trying not to gag at the stench of the fresh corpses.

Agent Two continued. “Then perhaps we’ll develop technology advanced enough to travel to their world. Perhaps we’ll be able to deflect their dark magic using powerful ray devices. Hmm…do you think we could eventually give tours of the afterlife dimensions?”

Agent One almost tripped over a fallen pipe with a gasp. His eyes were wide under his shades. “Nonsense, Two! It’ll be very hard to fight off hordes of demons in the first place! Not to mention the angels will probably take care of them.”

“So there are angels as well…” she mused.

“Of course. Didn’t you hear the reports? ‘Yellow Sheep Cherub Saves My Life After A Boulder Fell On Me.’ ‘Got Drunk On Holy Spirit Water; Angels Comfort Me.’ ‘Saved From Wild Animals, Hope That Sheep Survived.’ ‘God Is Real; His Angels Hold The Secret to Immortality!’”

“That last article was the most interesting,” remarked Agent Two. “It makes sense; if the cherubs can keep healing and blessing people, humanity can live long lives and not have to worry about a bad afterlife.”

“Until now, that is,” Agent One mentioned. “That’s what they wanted us to think before. But now that we know that demons and Hell exist, this changes everything! More than likely, it was Heaven’s way to keep people brainwashed to hide the truth about the sufferings and exterminations the sinners have to go through! If humans were to know about all that…”

“…Then they’d think it was unfair. They’d question their life choices more, be less stupid and berate the elite angels for hiding the truth and separating their family members into the ‘desirable’ and ‘deviant’ categories.”

“Heh. Even in the afterlife, social class and elitism still exist.”

“I’d love to know more.”

“Me too, Two, but right now, we gotta get this place cleaned up. Our monitors and cameras cost hundreds of dollars, ya know!”

Agent Two sighed. “Great. Now we’re broke.”

Agent One winked. “Not broke. Woke!”

With a roll of her eyes, Agent Two got to work. They both strained and cleared away all the debris on the floor before burning it outside. Afterwards, they stared in disgust and despair at the bloodstained walls, hallways, floors and ceilings. Standing in the dilapidated hallway, a lone light cover hung haphazardly from the ceiling as sparks flew from a flickering fluorescent light. The industrial gray hallway looked more grimy and uninviting than ever. Flies began to buzz around the bodies, flesh turning blue and black near the lower areas.

“Now, whose gonna get rid of the bodies?” asked Agent One.

After a pause, they both pointed at each other and yelled, “Not Me!”

“Why should I have to do it?” asked Agent Two.

“Because I’m number One!”

“First is the worst, second is the best! That means you gotta do it,” she sang.

Agent One folded his arms. “No way. Ladies first!”

“Man up and do it, One!” she barked.

“You’re a strong lady. Surely you can handle the job.”

“How uncouth for a gentleman to think that!”

They both pondered in thought, pacing back and forth until…

“Let’s settle this with good ol’ Rock Paper Scissors!” said Agent Two.

“Best 2 out of three.”

“No. Just one round.”

“You’re no fun.”

They held out their hands in fists and faced each other. “Ready?” asked Agent One. Agent Two nodded. “You’re so on.”

They both chanted, “Rock, Paper, Scissors…” as Agent Two said “Shoot!” a moment later.

“Hey, no fair!” said Agent One. “I had Rock, you had Scissors; you can’t just switch to Paper!”

Agent Two smirked. “You were supposed to do yours at the fourth ‘Shoot’ instead of at ‘Scissors!’”

“How was I supposed to know that?! Rematch, now!”

“And say ‘Shoot’ this time, One!”

“Urgh. Fine.”

They both did Rock Paper Scissors again. Agent One won the first round and Agent Two won the second round. It was a tie between them.

“This is ridiculous,” sighed Agent Two. “Can’t we just do it together?”

“Not without finishing the last round. Besides, I don’t wanna get sick.”

“We’ll get sick for sure if we just leave those bodies there. Or don’t move somewhere else!”

“Where else can we go? This is the only D.H.O.R.K.S. (Demon Hunting Organization of Rad Kooky Suckers) station around here.”

“It’s not a station anymore,” said Agent Two. “More like a gravesite.”

“Oh? You scared of ghosts now? Wanna switch careers and be a ghost buster? Who you gonna call, hmm?” asked Agent One.

Agent Two smirked. “Your mom, like that demon said.”

“My mom’s dead!” Agent One cried, running his hands through his short brown hair. “Stop mentioning that!”

“Okay, sorry, sorry,” said Agent Two, holding up her hands. “Maybe it would’ve been safer to focus on ghosts instead of demons.” Agent One took some deep breaths and sniffed.

“Yeah, and update our passwords, too,” Agent One remarked as they headed back into the dimmed green room with the array of cameras. “I mean, why not make the password “1337” or “A.A.H.W.” or something. Who came up with “11111” for the keypad anyway?”

Agent Two gave him a look and raised an eyebrow. “Uh, you did. It’s all in the number, One.”

“Oh damn it, you’re right!” he scowled.

“Hmpth. At least my password of six 6s for the outside door was cool! Because demons.”

Agent One rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

The two of them made it into the room and stared at the screens replaying Blitzo, Moxxie, Millie and Loona on their various killing missions on Earth.

“At least we still have some evidence,” Agent Two mentioned as the screens blinked on and off.

“Yes,” agreed Agent One.  He narrowed his eyes, facing his comrade. “Now…to finish this, once and for all!”

Agent Two narrowed her eyes in return. “You don’t have to tell me twice!”

They held out their fists, getting ready to begin their final Rock Paper Scissors match…

Just then, they heard a rumbling noise and what sounded like a cat screech from outside. Agent One turned and lifted away the blinds from a barred window. There was a dark figure moving outside in the alley.

“Great Scott!” Agent One gasped. “I think the police found us!”

“You’re kidding,” Agent Two replied, scratching her short light-colored hair. “How could they have found us?!”

“Maybe because we burned the debris outside,” said Agent One, “…when you could’ve burned the bodies as well.” He gave her a stern look.

“Why would I disrespect their families?” she asked. “Surely they’d want to see what happened to their brave agent loved ones.”

“We’re supposed to remain covert from everyone.”

“Sure, and we have a public YouTube account for that exact purpose!” Agent Two shot back in sarcasm.

Agent One shook his head in frustration. “Once they find all the bodies and our location, we’ll be arrested for sure!”

Agent Two turned her attention to the cameras and smiled. “Not if we can prove that it was the demons who killed all our comrades!”

“Seriously, Two? Everyone still thinks were crazy kooks! No one will believe us yet, least of all the police.”

Agent Two waved a hand and made a “psh,” sound. “Relax, One. Once we show them the evidence, we’ll get off scot free in no time!”

She stood, confident with her hands on her hips…just as a low groaning sound was heard…

“Get down!” called Agent One, leaping onto her and rolling her out of the way. Agent Two yelped in response. With a loud, ear-shattering crash, the monitors and screens collapsed to the ground, right where the agents stood moments before. The room filled with dust, sparks and the foul metallic odor of machinery. The screens were now broken and detached from the wall, leaving nothing but exposed wires and dark gaps in the wall. A posture of a stern green haired lady agent called Snake from Zoophobia hung on another wall, staring at them as if she knew they had made fools of themselves. Another poster showed a suited agent with glasses eating green and brown wheat cereal, holding an invisible spoon in his hand as the caption read, “There is no spoon. Seeing isn’t always believing.”

Agent Two gasped as Agent One crouched over her, using his body as a shield. They stared at each other for a long tense moment, briefly lifting up their sunglasses to stare into each other’s eyes.

Then Agent One asked, “You were saying about the evidence?”

Agent Two groaned loudly in frustration, hoisting herself up. “Come on, One. Let’s give ourselves up. Or flee. Or for starters, see what the commotion is about.”

“Don’t forget your weapons.”

“Roger that.”

They brushed themselves off, grabbed their stun guns and headed out of the building.

“You’ll still have to dispose of the bodies,” Agent Two whispered to him.

Agent One sighed. “We don’t even have proper protective equipment for that.”

“Yes, we do. It’s in the storage closet.”

“And where is that?”

“That pile of rubble over there.”

Agent One stared in disbelief at the charred remains of the cleaning supplies. “God, why?!”

0 0 0

It was still dark out when the agents wandered outside. There were several open dumpsters and a rolled over trash can from the previous battle. Agent One heard a cat meowing and chasing after a rat. The cat purred as he chomped down onto the rat and pained squeaks were heard.

Agent One gulped. “This ain’t a good idea. Youse think we’ll get mugged or robbed?”

“Quit bein’ such a wimp,” Agent Two whispered. “We do stuff like this all the time. Why you scared now?”

“That owl demon may be watching us.”

“He’s gone now,” she hissed. “We can’t let one setback deter us from searching for other supernatural paraphernalia.”

“Youse saying there are worse demons out there?”

“Hopefully not on Earth, but I’m also talking about other spirits.”

“Do you think…I could communicate with my mom?” Agent One asked hopefully.

“Nu-nuh,” she shook her head. “Remember that last time we tried to use that Ouija board during our Haunted High School party?”

“Yes…”

“Absolutely nothing happened that night. It was pretty boring.”

“Oh.”

“…but I always felt like something was watching us for several days afterward. Could explain why we had such bad luck after burning the board…”

 “Why were we so stupid?”

“Don’t ask me. Ask yourself.”

“Hey, shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“Shhh!” Agent One shushed her. “Remember, we can’t be seen!”

His foot caught onto a turned-over, garbage can. With a “whoa!” he stumbled and face planted onto the littered ground with a loud crash, his feet in the air.

He groaned and picked himself up as Agent Two held in a snicker.

“Excuse me, number one, but you’re currently being the loudest.”

“I said shush up, Two!” Agent One seethed, brushing away garbage from his hair and clothing. He straightened his logo on his suit, a white D over a red triangle. “Go scout our surroundings. I have a feeling we’re getting close.”

Agent Two chuckled again before scaling a nearby wall with rungs on it. She made it up to the rooftops under a full moon, stalking through the night like a black cat super villain. At last, after a few jumps, she peered over the edge. Taking out a near transparent drone device, she pressed a button and the device beeped. After a moment, the device beeped again, with the words “Portal Sighted,” on the small screen.

“Agent One,” she spoke through a walkie-talkie. “I found a portal up ahead. At 1:00.”

“I did, too. 13:00,” he replied.

‘What does that mean again?”

“It’s military time for 1:00.”

“AM or PM? And is the portal ahead or behind you? Wait what time is it, anyway?” she asked.

“Just…follow my lead,” Agent One sighed.

Agent Two jumped gracefully from the roof, landing on her feet near Agent One.

Just then, the agents heard voices coming from a nearby corner up ahead. They crept closer to the sound, guns drawn. They saw dark shadows dance on the wall…shadows that did not appear human-like at all.

Agent One held in a gasp. “It’s the horned demon-scum!” he breathed.

“They’re back already?” asked Agent Two.

“They’ll be sorry they messed with us.”

They listened to the voices ahead.

“I’m telling you sir, there’s a dangerous cult on the loose. Heard rumors that they hunt down creatures that aren’t human. Why’re we here anyway?”

“Because a messenger told one of our own that they were on the loose again. And by ‘they,’ I mean the crude assassins.”

“It’s always them, isn’t it? No wonder the cherubs got so stressed out. I’ve never cared much of mortals and especially not those creatures from down below. Our superiors grow more suspicious of us each day. If we don’t come back with something to prove…”

“We will this time. We have to. Our lives and the lives of humans depend on it…”

“Wait, sir, I heard something…”

Just then, Agent One and Agent Two appeared into the light.

“Freeze, demon scum!”

The figures appeared as well, aiming glowing staffs.

“Freeze, satanic cultists!”

The four individuals took several looks at each other, taken aback. The agents stared at what appeared to be creatures wearing white clothing. Both had dark teal faces (the taller one had part of his face black), pointed ears and eyes in shades of dark blue with white pupils. The shorter one had black hair and wore a white suit with a teal bow tie. He wore matching pants and white boots with teal at the tops. The taller elf barred his unusually sharp white teeth.

“Who are you humans?” he asked, his voice having a slight echo to it.

“We’re agents, thank you very much,” said Agent One. “And who are you demons?”

The smaller elf scowled. “How rude of you to say.”

The two elves, Tirred and Docile spread out their white feathery wings, white glowing spiked halos appearing over their heads.

The two agents stared in amazement. Agent Two gasped. “Wha…hold on…you’re angels?!”

“Obviously,” Docile shrugged. “Are you that dangerous Satanic cult we’ve been warned about?”

“Goodness no!” Agent One cried. “We’re D.H.O.R.K.S.”

Tirred snickered as Agent One explained, “We’re a secret organization that hunts down paranormal activity, specifically demons. We don’t work for any demon.”

“Good!” said Tirred. “Now please move along. We have some fugitives to catch.”

The elves walked forward but stopped when Agent Two grinned and aimed her gun.

“Hold up…you’re angels, yes? Hmm…perhaps you could help us convince more people that angels and demons are real. And you could let us study you…that is…if you want to live!” The agents grinned evilly.

The elves stood unfazed. “Look lady,” said Docile, “We’re on a very serious mission and we can’t afford to stay with some random kooky organization of occultic nerds…”

“What did you just say?!” bellowed Agent One in anger.

“I appreciate you trying to protect Earth…”

“And those cherubs do to!” added Agent Two.

Docile lowered his head. “They fell to Hell.”

“Oh dear.”

“Anyway, we have no business in collaborating with you…” Docile began.

Thud.

A dart from one of the agent’s guns hit Tirred on the neck.

“Ha!” cried Agent Two. “You guys aren’t going anywhere!”

Without taking his eyes off of the agents, Docile held the stumbling, mumbling Tirred with one arm. As Tirred’s eyes fluttered closed, Docile muttered a chant. Tirred’s body lit up blue, and his neck steamed up, the dart melting away like wax. The wound closed up and the light faded. Tirred opened his eyes and shook his head as he stood back up. Agent One fired another dart, but Docile caught it expertly with one hand. He crushed it in his fist, letting the pieces fall to the ground.

“Oh, a smart guy, huh?” asked Agent One. “Too bad we got you cornered.”

But the elves weren’t cornered at all. From behind them, several portals opened up. One led to the Heaven the elves came from, one showed the familiar crimson red sky of Hell and another led to a place with a much darker sky. Docile turned to see his colleagues Timmid the elf and Sunna the brown heavencat waving from the heavenly side of the portal.

The agents gasped too. “No way! Heaven and Hell do exist after all!”

“Wait a second,” Docile said, his face a look of concern. “I thought you humans only believed in angels.”

“Not anymore we won’t!” said Agent One. “We believed in demons for a while now. Demons won’t last long once everyone knows!”

“I mean, I’m all for humans learning to not become sinners and gradually learning about the existence of demons. Heaven is elite and full of lying hypocrites after all…” Docile began.

Agent Two chuckled. “Oh, it won’t be gradual! We just sent footage of the demon scum attacking our headquarters to the government!”

Docile stared in pure shock. Glowing eyes appeared on his wings and his teeth shone in the night. “YOU FUCKING WHAT?! You just potentially endangered the living world and the afterlife worlds! I’d have an urge to cleanse your filthy souls with a holy dick in your dumbasses…”

Tirred stared agape, as did the agents.

Docile turned toward Timmid and Sunna as the agents inched closer.

“Shit, close them!” Docile called.

A fearful Timmid chanted a psalm from the Bible in her hands. All the portals shrank until they became nothing. Docile briefly got shocked by a blast from Agent Two. “Wait! No!” cried Sunna, reaching out a paw, but the portal had already closed.

Docile and Tirred leaned back against the wall. The agents had their guns drawn. Now the elves were truly cornered. Flashes of blue lighting hit the elves, shocking them.

“Surrender angel clowns, and we won’t hurt you anymore,” said Agent One.

“Back off you tuxedo-wearing freaks,” Tirred spat. Both of them winced at the pain and tried not to go under.

“That was pretty badass,” said Agent One.

“Super badass!” Agent Two replied with a pose.

As the agents were about to aim their guns again, the elves disappeared in a flash of light.

“Hey, where’d they go?” asked Agent Two as they looked around.

In a flash, the two elves teleported behind them.

“What the…” Agent One began before he was knocked against the wall with a swing of Docile’s staff. Agent Two whirled around to punch Tirred, but she missed as he ducked. Tirred knocked the gun out of her hands and landed several karate kicks. Agent Two wheezed in pain before she was knocked to the ground as well. The two agents crawled backwards in terror and pain until their backs met the wall. The shadows of the elves passed over their faces as they crept closer.

“You mortals made a careless mistake, abruptly introducing demons to mankind,” stated Docile. His staff glowed purple and angelic choir music began to play from it. The melody and harmonized chants floated around, caressing the agents’ ears. It was so beautiful and ethereal that the agents were suddenly fine with letting themselves be embraced by sleep. They felt strangely safe in the presence of these angel strangers.

“M-Mother, is that you?” breathed Agent One, his head lowered, eyelids drooping.

“Before we erase your memories, how about you tell us where your hideout is and how this whole mess came about,” said Docile.

Tirred grinned evilly. “And since you love demons so much, you’ll tell us where we can find I.M.P.”

The agents’ worlds faded into black.

0 0 0

Back at the E.L.F. office, Timmid buried her face in her hands. “No! No, no, no! We were so close.”

Sunna stood with concern on her face, vastly different from her usual sunny outlook. Instead of her usual white dress with a sun on it, she wore blue pants and a white short sleeve shirt with a black cross on it.

“D-did you hear that? Our boss just swore out loud! Plus, he used innuendos and euphemisms. He never does that! That means it’s serious.”

“Oh no, he’ll be banished from Heaven for sure!” cried Timmid.

“Technically he only did it on Earth, but…”

“What’re we gonna do?” Timmid wailed.

“Open it again,” Sunna deadpanned.

“I-I’m too sacred. Since Docile isn’t here, I don’t open it unless…”

“Open the bucking portal, now!” Sunna yelled, picking up Timmid by her shirt. She then let go. From a clean emergency backpack, Timmid collected a few bottles of holy healing water and took out a large sword with the sides sharp like a chainsaw. It was teal blue with a white cross in the center. On the hilt, she pressed a curved Christian fish button and the weapon lit up in white flames.

“Nice,” Sunna smiled, who had transformed into her African American human form.

Timmid felt more courageous as she stepped out of the portal…

…into the quiet empty night. Sunna followed.

“They aren’t here!” she exclaimed in distraught.

Sunna sniffed the air and ground. “Smells like they went this way. Come on, let’s catch those horrible twins!”

They raced off into the night and easily found the remains of the D.H.O.R.K.S. building. They climbed over rubble and debris, carefully avoiding exposed wire and pipes along the way.

0 0 0

Agent Two’s eyes slowly fluttered open. She looked around and saw that she was in a dim room…the same room where they had interrogated the imps. She looked down with a gasp. She was tied to a chair with rope, while Agent One was tied to another chair behind her.

A figure leaned in and shone a light onto Agent Two. “Finally awake huh? Little mortal?” It was the grinning face of Tirred, wearing Agent Two’s sunglasses. Docile stood on the other side, wearing Agent One’s sunglasses. Agent One slowly woke up as well.

“My, my, how the tables have turned,” mused Docile, as he adjusted his sunglasses, his wings folded behind him.

“Agent Two? Where are you?” he slurred.

“Behind you.”

“Touching my butt?”

“No, I’m tied up.”

Agent One looked down and strained against the ropes. “Dammit, I am too!”

“No, you’re One,” deadpanned Agent Two.

Agent One looked around. “W-where are the bodies?”

Docile mentioned to a still-working camera that showed the elves carrying the agents through the rubble. They were shown tying the agents up before moving off to the side. Docile and Tirred held hands, lowering their heads in prayer at the litter of bodies. Light shone from their forms and staffs, making the screen shake. Through another portal, a looming angel with a pale gaunt face, sunken black eyes and long black hair appeared on the scene: Azrael. All the corpses were lifted into the air, the wounds healed before they all vanished into the air. Azrael gazed darkly into the camera before vanishing in shadow. After much of the building was repaired by more magic, Docile collapsed in exhaustion, Tirred watching over him. Several hours had passed.

Docile smashed the screen with a fist.

“Aw man, that was entertaining evidence!” cried Agent One.

“I thought angels could bring back the dead,” said Agent Two.

“No one can, not even the cherubs,” Tirred mentioned.

“Well technically, if a human dies, ourselves or the cherubs could revive them from death provided it occurs a couple minutes or less after they die,” Docile pondered. “Doesn’t explain why sinners can revive themselves in Hell…”

“Getting off topic again, sir. Interrogation, remember?”

“Right.”

Docile cleared his throat. “Those bodies you saw have been magically transferred to a nearby gravesite, each under separate sheets. The families of the fallen will be notified of their deceased loved ones telepathically by Gabriel before dawn. It will be assumed that your organization, which will now be revealed, led to the kooks challenging each other to death in combat and that there was an argument over the existence of demons. Until humanity is ready to admit their faults and have more courage, they cannot know of demons’ existence.”

“Ha!” barked Agent One. “It’s already too late!”

“Even so…” said Tirred. “Your agents are now in Hell.”

The two agents shuddered.

“Now we never kill unless the threat is too great,” stated Docile. “And we could easily erase your memories right now. However…we have some questions for you kooks.”

“Stop saying that!” barked Agent Two.

“Quiet,” hissed Tirred, shining the light in her face, making her flinch.

“Tell us, agents,” said Docile. “Who do you work for? The Illuminati?”

“It’s more like the SCP Organization mixed with A.A.H.W. mixed with Men in Black mixed with the Matrix, mixed with…”

“Direct answer, please!”

“It’s D.H.O.R.K.S.!” said Agent Two as Agent One burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny!” Tirred yelled. “How did you humans get all this technology in the first place?” The elves shone the light back and forth over the agents.

“Also, why are you hunting demons?” asked Docile.

“When did you show up here?” asked Tirred.

“Alright, I’m gonna stop you right there,” said Agent One as the elves moved the light back in place. “First of all, we just woke up from a very peaceful dream…”

“And a very nasty shock,” added Agent Two.

“…and I’m still feeling woozy, so I’m gonna request you to fetch us some coffee before we get into this.”

“It’d better not be iced,” growled Docile. “That stuff sucks.”

Agent Two added, “I’ll have a pumpkin spiced latte with four ounces of gluten-free soy milk, make sure it looks nice and orange and smells like pumpkin, only use organic ingredients in the process…and I ain’t white but I can enjoy pumpkin spiced lattes any time I want. Be sure they don’t use my real name and spell my number wrong on the cup, not like “To,” or “Too,” I hate that. Might as well throw watermelons into the faces of racists and watch them gleefully eat it off like hungry entitled monkeys…”

“Enough!” Tirred screamed as both agents doubled down in laughter. “I’m not giving you idiots coffee!”

“Need I remind you that you are at our mercy now,” Docile said coldly. “Tell us when you last saw I.M.P.”

“Who?”

“The assassin demons you caught on your cameras!”

“Those demons ransacked our headquarters then left to Hell after a scary owl demon king transported them there!” called Agent One.

“An owl demon…from the first Hell,” pondered Docile. “Must’ve been Stolas of the Ars Goetia. Be thankful it wasn’t the other Stolas; you would’ve been bird food.”

“You don’t even know who we are,” said Agent Two.

“Who are you?” asked Tirred.

“Your worst nightmare!”

The agents cackled again.

“We can easily look into your heads if we have to,” Tirred warned.

“Oh, are you sure you want to peer into our thoughts, angels?” asked Agent One with a smirk. “They might be very dirty.”

“I learned my brief swearing from Samael,” Docile deadpanned. “I can handle a little dirt.”

“Did Sammy get kinky and torture you, too?” asked Agent Two before Docile grew red in the face in embarrassment.

“It was a horrible experience!”

“I bet he secretly liked it. Even angels get kinky too,” mocked Agent One.

“Shut up, you ungrateful sickos!” Tirred snapped, patting a fuming Docile on the shoulder. “We’re not getting kinky with you humans!”

 “It’ll be a rainy day in Heaven before that ever happens!” scowled Docile.

“Well, we’ve been studying how similar angels and demons really are,” said Agent One. “Why not try it out for ourselves?” Tirred and Docile flinched back in disgust.

“Don’t let them get to you, sir,” said Tirred to Docile, pulling him to the side. “They’re just trying to mess with us.”

Tirred looked over at a separate room with controls. Then he looked at Docile with a smirk. “So, the humans want to play games, huh?” he spoke in a low voice.

“Uh, I don’t like what you’re thinking, Tirred…” he whispered.

“If we can’t get answers out of them, we’ll just try another way.”

Tirred led Docile out of the room, closed the door and then arrived at the control room. Tirred grinned and pushed his fist onto the glowing green “Truth Bomb” button.

“A taste of their own medicine!” Tirred beamed with a chuckle. Docile looked on in worry.

0 0 0

“Oh man, what do we do now?” sighed Agent Two.

“Keep trying to escape, I guess,” Agent One replied, struggling to no avail.

“I’m sure someone will try and rescue us,” said Agent Two. “I bet corporate is on their way right now. Or maybe the angels will feel sorry for us and let us go. I hope so.”

As the green fumes entered the room, Agent One spat, “You and your idealistic nature. You never listen to my ideas. All it is with you is, ‘One, you’re no fun.’ ‘You’re a serious one, One, let me be in charge.’ How unprofessional and pathetic.”

“Pathetic?” Agent Two asked. “You’re the one who threw that tantrum when those demons insulted your mother! Without me around, you would’ve given into your impulses long ago.”

She glanced down. “Crap! They’re filling the room with the truth bomb!”

“Urgh! I knew we never should’ve trusted those angels. The supernatural can never be trusted!”

“Then why hunt for demons in the first place?”

“Because they distracted me from being with my mother. On a mission, you and I fought with a few dark spirits that had chased us after we burned that Ouija board. And what happened next? She died before I had a chance to say goodbye.” Agent One bawled in tears. “I wanted to dedicate my life to the government, to be in a position where my nerdiness and desire to save others could come in handy. But mostly I just wanted the money! It would’ve helped me a lot to expand on my Dorks and Dweebs card game!”

“I’m so sorry, but it serves you right for burning it.”

“It was your idea. Why are you fascinated by demons anyway?”

“Because men like you ain’t good enough. I wanted some excitement! Oh sorry…”

“Excitement?” Agent One asked. “You mean you were attracted to me like I briefly was to you?”

Agent Two said, “I was before I discovered I like women and science better. Just the thought of me dominating a succubus makes me feel…”

She sighed happily before reeling back in disgust. “What? Ew! Why’d I say that?!”

“I can’t believe you!” cried Agent One. “Maybe that demonic owl possession got to you too much.”

“I thought I was gonna die! But briefly when it was inside me, it kinda felt…good…when I was out of my head…Oh no, forget what I said!”

“Oh Two, I’ve said so many lies to you!” cried Agent One as they both bawled.

Tirred chuckled as he ate popcorn from a bowl and drank a soda. “This is gonna be a good night!”

“God dammit, Two, this is all your fault!” shouted Agent One.

“How is this my fault?!” Agent Two asked in anger.

The two agents then experienced hallucinations.

Agent Two

Agent Two awoke to the sound of an overhead humming fan. The world morphed in front of her, changing from a dimly lit room into a larger room with a wooden floor and coverings with red square outlines on them. Black and red punching bags hung on chains and a nearby gong with the organization logo on it reflected light off a wall. The dojo room had several people in white karate uniforms practicing with each other. One of them chopped a pile of blocks in half with his hand. She glanced down and noticed that she had a white uniform on as well, only the belt was rainbow colored instead of black.

“Agent One? Are you in here?” she called. She peered out through a window and saw that they were hovering in space. A shooting star whizzed by, and a flying glittery star cat meowed with sparkles in its eyes. Red roofed Japanese temples hovered in the background.

Very soon, traditional music began to play and the attendees in the room stood at attention in rows.

“What is this music?” she asked. “Is this a prank, because I swear to Amaterasu it is…”

“It is no prank, Two,” said a voice with a low accent used by a stereotypical spy.

Walking through the space was none other than Agent One, dressed in a golden uniform with a black belt around his waist. The other attendees put their hands together and lowered their heads as Agent One passed them.

“One? What’re you doing here? And why do you sound like that?”

“Because you’re as high as a rocket!”

Agent One then lowered his head and bowed. Agent Two did the same.

“Shall we begin?” he asked. Agent Two nodded.

The attendees stepped back and made a large circle for the agents. The agents circled around with tension, judging the other’s moves. Before she could blink, Agent One was in front of her, sending out a kick that almost made her fall to the ground. She recovered and did several kicks and punches of her own. After getting Agent One in the side, he maneuvered backwards to dodge her offensive kicks.

Agent Two then groaned as a hard fist landed onto her abdomen. She seethed and continued to press forward.

“You’re losing focus,” Agent One remarked. “It’s affecting your technique.” The attendees stared at her with judging eyes.

“I never lose focus,” she retorted with several arm thrusts. She held up an arm in front of her face as his fist made an impact. It sent her jaw throbbing.

“How could this be?” she sang.

“What is this pain?

I’ve never tried ecstasy, THC or cocaine

It’s a bad trip, A wastashi no!

Of course someone like you would show!

I speak in honesty

Please do not judge me”

“I will not,” Agent One harmonized as he spun a pole weapon in the air.

“Not trying to divulge too deep

In this strange sleep

But first of all…

Kuso kurae!”

“What?” Agent One growled, advancing forward.

“This is just typical, well two can play at this game,” she sang, as both their pole weapons clashed.

“Why must you try and dominate everything?” asked Agent Two. “Am I just second best?”

“Because your life is all a test,” replied Agent One in song.

“Why does it seem like a recurring thing that you alienate with your toxic routine?” Agent Two asked.

“Constant work in the company, that’s the way it all goes,” he replied.

“But your true reasons, nobody knows,” she said.

For a while, they realized that they were equally matched. For every offensive attack one of them did, the other easily did defense. Eventually, the attendees chorused in song and a spotlight shone on the two agents from above. A large Yin-Yang symbol appeared below them, Agent One on the black and Agent Two on the white.

“Why must you feel ashamed and blue, Two?” sang Agent One.

“I’m scared of rejection, I can’t fathom,” replied Agent Two.

“Why must you imagine that pretty lady in front of you?”

Agent Two found herself on top of a dark-skinned lady with bat wings that appeared. “It gives me an erection and orgasm…hey!” The woman vanished.

“I’ve been a kook, it’s true,” Agent One said as they stood back-to-back, weapons in hand.

“You’ve been a kook, it’s true,” Agent Two harmonized, head lifted slightly.

“Don’t hide your feelings inside, embrace your abilities with pride,” said Agent One. “And know that I won’t always win.”

“That you won’t always win,” she harmonized.

“Through any kind of weather, we’ll always be together,” harmonized Agent Two and Agent One as they faced each other, practicing at ease with smiles of a colleague friendship.

“Yin and Yang, Moon and Sun

Separate but whole, Two become One.

Once we’re back as ourselves once more

I’ll be a better partner than I was before”

“So long as we don’t step out of line

Or get killed by the divine,

Everything will become

Fiiinneee!”

Agent Two felt better as a gong sounded three times and her world turned black.

0 0 0

Agent One

Agent One’s world swirled in a dizzying array of psychedelic colors. The walls appeared to breathe and soon faded into rainbow swirls. As he blinked his eyes, demonic sigils and voodoo symbols flashed in and out in bold colors. The sounds of wind and the faint rumblings of machinery were heard.

Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, black spots danced before him, and a ringing sound briefly chimed uncomfortably in his ears. After his world turned dark, he thought he was awake.

But at the same time, he was somewhere else. Somewhere else that appeared familiar.

Glancing down, he saw he was wearing a tan-brown suit that looked like a ghostbusters costume. It had plastic ray guns and tools in the belt around his waist. His arms and legs were covered, and he wore clunky boots as well. His sunglasses were missing, replaced by cheap-looking red goggles.

Surrounding him were metal industrial walls, a high darkened ceiling with flickering tubes of light overhead. Propaganda signs read in bold letters, “Do Your Job!” “Eyes Forward. Don’t Ask Questions.” “Be The Best At What You Do.” “You Belong To The State, Not Vice-Versa.” “Unity With Purpose, Join Today!”

“What is this place?” he asked. His voice was swallowed by the darkness ahead. He felt himself being sucked forward into another room. The windows overlooked a city at night.

Sitting behind a towering black desk was a large man in a black suit with a bald head. Sunglasses covered his face and the name tag on his desk read William Fisk.

“King Pin, sir?” Agent One exclaimed.

“You should know that I always speak first. I must ask you, how long have you been working for corporate?”

“Several years, sir.”

Several other agents appeared beside him. They glanced at his garb and rolled their eyes. Agent Two appeared with her head lowered, strangely in a regular suit.

“You and Two would have held great positions in this company…had you taken your duties seriously.”

“But we have, sir,” said Agent One. “We filed all 1,337 of your papers detailing Project G7-29. Your past experiences dealing with spices, drugs and home movies will never reach prying eyes.”

“Yet…” King Pin said, clearing his throat. “My boss says you and Two have been parading around town, babbling out conspiracy theories about demons. Any reasonable person would focus on keeping this company in the green instead of obsessing over fantasy creatures.”

“They’re real!” pleaded Agent Two. “We can prove it.”

“All you have proved is that you two are incompetent, superstitious, unprofessional, and downright eccentric.”

“Kooks! Kooks!” chanted the other agents, laughing and pointing at them.

“But sir!” protested Agent Two. “If we can prove the existence of demons, it’ll change everything! We could get the supernatural on our side and who knows how strong we could get. Science infused with demonic magic could have incredible potential. Worlds could be conquered, and the mysteries of the afterlife will be revealed.”

King Pin scoffed. “I doubt that. Tell you what…you won’t be fired. You’ll just be demoted. Until I see results, get out of my sight!”

Agent One yelled as he fell through the dark, the laughter from the agents ponding in his ears. Agent Two then fell down with him, but her face morphed into the same monstrous grin she had when she was possessed by Stolas. Her black nude body was covered with bloodied gray feathers. She leaned seductively on a floating white D.H.O.R.K.S. sign, staring into his soul. She cracked her neck.

“Are you ready to be dorks, demon hunter? ‘Cause you’re in for a wild ride!”

Agent Two let out a scary laugh as her figure morphed into a demonic shadow with several red eyes.

Agent One heard a woman’s voice call out his name…his real name.

“Mother?”

A white woman with short brown hair wearing a blue dress reached out to him. “Help me, son!”

The shadow demon morphed into a virus as a bunch of 19s flashed in the background. She coughed up blood as the demon virus imbedded black tendrils into her.

“Mother!” Agent One cried, firing his weapon at the virus to no avail. The virus morphed into a laughing red demon with a pitchfork, knocking Agent One back. Crestfallen, he briefly stared at the lifeless face of his mother, before she faded into black ash.

“No, no, no!”

His bulky costume turned back into his suit, and he soon found himself entangled by wires. The wires slithered like snakes, wrapping around his legs and arms.

“Get off me!”

He tried desperately to escape, to scream, to struggle, but the silver strands held him down. Some wrapped around his neck, pinning him against a green wall with a spotlight overhead. An invisible crowd laughed at him from below…and walking into view were the four grinning members of I.M.P.

“How’s that for demon scum, kook?!” chuckled Blitzo as he aimed his flintlock pistol at the helpless gaping agent.

A shattering blast flooded through him, and the world went black.

0 0 0

The agents woke up and became more alert as the last of the fumes cleared away.

“Do you remember what you said to me after my first day with the company?” Agent Two asked Agent One.

“Not really.”

“I remember. You told me I did a good job. And that you were proud to work with me. I felt like you wanted to say something more judgmental, but…you said that because I needed it.” Agent Two turned her head to look at Agent One. “And it helped.”

Agent One stared downcast. “Look, I’m hard on you sometimes because I know what you’re capable of, Two. You shoot and sneak around well. You’re an expert at computers. And I’m too dazed to think of much else.”

“Thank you, One.”

Just then, Timmid arrived into the room.

“Hello?” she called. “I’m looking for someone named Docile.”

“That would be me,” Docile called, stepping into the room with Tirred.

“There you are! I thought you were tied up by the agents,” said Timmid.

“Long story short, those agents are a bunch of dorks,” Docile remarked, shaking his head.

Sunna followed Timmid into the room and waved.

“Sunny?!” cried Docile, hands on his head. “It’s dangerous here!”

“Let’s get out of here before more sinners show up!” Sunna called, now back in heavencat form.

“Oh no, the gangs all here again,” groaned Agent One.

“Anyone who wants to keep the agents tied up, say ‘aye!’” called Tirred.

Everyone except Sunna and the agents said “aye!”

“No, please let us go,” cried Agent Two. “We’ll do anything!”

“Excellent! Let’s erase your memories of your deeds to start,” said Docile, stepping toward them.

“Or maybe we could possess them and make them amend their sins,” Sunna suggested.

“Like that wouldn’t be totally suspicious to the humans,” Timmid muttered.

“Can angels possess humans and demons?” asked Agent One.

“I guess anyone can possess anything,” Agent Two responded.

Just then, there was a flash of light from outside.

“What the heaven was that?” Docile asked.

“Oh no, it’s the police I bet,” said Agent Two in concern. “Ready to surrender, One?”

“Not really.”

The walls were suddenly blasted apart by a sudden array of gunfire. The angels dodged the blows and knocked over the walls with a wave of their staffs.

They soon found themselves surrounded by robotic figures holding automatic rifles and other advanced weaponry. The cyborgs appeared to be wearing all white clothing plus white sunglasses over their eyes. Their skin was ashen gray.

“D.H.O.R.K.S. location discovered,” announced one of the robots. “Surrender now, enemy agents.”

“Who the heaven are they?” Docile asked.

Agent One gulped. “We forgot to tell you that corporate has another company not as much on the fringe.”

Just then, two regular people stepped forward. One was a man with dark skin, dark blonde sleeked-back hair and white sunglasses over his face. He wore a dark pink suit with a white necktie and black undershirt. The logo pinned on his suit was a black C over an upward pointing blue triangle. His comrade was a white-skinned woman with white sunglasses, curly short black hair and a lavender colored suit with the same logo. Agent Negative One and Agent Negative Two.

“At last, D.H.O.R.K.S., we finally found you. As agents of C.H.A.R.M.E.R.S.,” called Agent Negative One, “On behalf of corporate, we nearby order you all to stand down. Members of D.H.O.R.K.S. are arrested for plotting conspiracies, doing dark unethical drug experimentation, and distilling fear of demons among the populace.”

“But demons are real, I’m telling you!” cried Agent Two.

“You always were a good-for-nothing lunatic,” scoffed Agent Negative Two to Agent Two. “Lost in your own head and believing in nonsense instead of doing actual government work with real purpose. Plus, I remember you were so fat in school.”

Agent Two looked hurt. “Brat.”

“Not to mention putting the lives of your fellow agents in danger and using tacky old medieval weapons in your trainings,” chided Agent Negative One.

“The Edo Period was badass, and you know it!” fired Agent Two.

“Dammit, you’re right,” Agent One said with a small smile.

“Those guys bullied us a lot in school,” Agent One mentioned to E.L.F. with a scowl. “Those preps always liked to pick on the ‘weird’ kids.”

“Enough talk, dorks!” bellowed Agent Negative One. “You’re coming with us.”

“And so are you, cosplaying freaks!” added Agent Negative Two to the angels.

“But we’re angels,” said Sunna, spreading out her wings.

“Angels, demons and spirits must perish before humanity,” said Agent Negative One in a monotone voice. “The truth will remain hidden for the greater good until it no longer exists.”

“Or they’ll do the bidding of our race forever,” added Agent Negative Two. “It is the only way humans will know peace and be able to spread their influence across the galaxies.”

Docile and the others glowered at the random cold agents. He turned to Agents One and Two. “Just this once.” He waved his staff and the rope fell off of them. The two agents grinned, stood up and took out their guns.

“All-right, angelic teamwork!” Agent Two whooped. “Let’s kick some robotic ass!”

“Foreign enemies of all earthly beings (and human enemies of corporate), prepare to meet your doom!” droned Agent Negative One.

“We’re not humanity’s enemy!” called Timmid to no avail. The battle soon began.

As the shots from gunfire rang out, Agent Two did graceful leaps into the air, knocking down several robots. Agent One fired a stun gun, shocking robots before they could do any damage.

“Perish, dorks!” called Agent Negative One, before he narrowly dodged a blast from Docile’s staff. Sunna raced around the rubble and dirt, swiping her paws at the robots and hissing in newfound fury.

Meanwhile, Timmid was screaming and crying as she waved her flaming white chainsaw sword.

“Why am I doing this?!” she cried as she sliced several robots in half all at once.

“Tir, cover me!” called Docile, as the two elves shot blue blasts at the surrounding robots.

“Yes, sir!” Tirred replied.

A robot was about to take Agent Two down from behind, but a blast from Agent One’s gun knocked the robot back.

“Some charmers they are,” Agent One scoffed.

Taking out a sword, Agent Two sliced another robot agent and reflected back bullets with rapid twirls. Soon, she was jumping and flipping in the air as she avoided blasts from Agent Negative Two’s stun gun. After knocking the gun from her hand, Agent Two faced her foe in rapid hand to hand combat. Agent One and his counterpart fired rounds at each other. Agent One managed to graze his foe’s shoulder, and he seethed in anger.

“You need a blessed tipped rifle?” Docile asked Timmid. He was drinking water from a flask.

“No thanks,” she called.

“How about some holy water?” Docile pulled out a small bottle from his pocket.

“Sure!”

Timmid took the bottle from Docile and gulped down the water. Her wounds were healed, and her energy was restored.

“Thanks, Docile,” she called, tossing the empty bottle aside.

��No problem. All this fighting makes me thirsty.” Then he glared at the robotic agents and growled with a strange grin. His right eye briefly had a white X glowing over it. “Thirsty for the cleaving of your sinful souls!” He rushed at the enemy, kicking and striking at any he came across.

Just then, after the majority of the robots had fallen, more of them arrived in a marching formation from a nearby landing helicopter with the C.H.A.R.M.E.R.S. logo on it. Docile was shocked out of his more vicious leftover Exorcist mode as a bullet fired from Agent Negative One grazed his arm.

“Oh, come on!” groaned Agent One, before the tired crew was surrounded once more.

“Ha! You criminals aren’t going anywhere now!” called Agent Negative Two in triumph. The two D.H.O.R.K.S. agents raised their hands in surrender after their weapons were kicked away.

Before she gave the order to take down the agents and E.L.F., a rustle of wind blew around them. The ground slowly started to shake, and a portal appeared in the darkness.

“Who dares threaten my fellow citizens?” rose a dark voice.  

“Who said that?!” ordered Agent Negative One.

A fierce gust of wind blew back the robots and the counterpart agents. An angelic sigil glowing crimson appeared on the ground underneath the portal. Several robots blinked to life; their eyes teal in the dark. From their empty mouths emitted the gut-wrenching sounds of strained breathing and dying moans. Their fake flesh faces almost looked human, despite their zombie-like appearances. Dim golden wings covered with eyes and mouths appeared from the portal hole, showing a four headed creature: one head an eagle, one head an ox, one head a man and the other head a lion. The side with the man’s face let out a screeching roar at the enemy agents, causing them to whimper out loud.

The cherub creature morphed again.

With awe and terror, Agent One, Agent Two and E.L.F. stared into the vast form of the angel before them…

…Black long span feathery wings with glowing stern red eyes. A monstrous ghostly face with sunken black eyes that appeared to glow and stand out like black holes. Stringy long black hair blowing in the wind. Faces screaming and contorting in pain covering the visitor’s towering body like an abomination. The deadly glint of a scythe in the being’s hand. A horrible stench of death surrounding all sides…

The C.H.A.R.M.E.R.S. agents screamed and ran for their lives, fleeing in a helicopter.

The darkness cleared and in a swoop of a shadow, there appeared…

“Azrael?” blinked Docile in surprise. “Wha…hold on, how did you know we needed help?”

“I have my ways,” he replied. “I sensed a carnage of death on Earth thanks to Gabriel’s somber message. Now can you elves explain how in the world you got caught by humans?”

“Actually,” Docile began, “It was kinda the other way around.”

“Doesn’t matter. If you get in trouble, I get in trouble and then Samael would be involved too. We don’t want that. You little elves really need to be more careful down here!”

“So not, ‘up there?’” Timmid asked.

“Okay, sir,” said Docile. “We’re sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Good. Fortunately, most people do not believe the word of demons by those kooks over there. But now that they know, it’d be best to erase their memories of this trauma.”

“But…they already sent camera footage as evidence to the government,” Docile sighed sadly.

Azrael looked worried. “Oh dear. Even erasing their memories won’t do them good at this point. Humans knowing about demons so abruptly…could change everything.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell them,” Docile muttered, mentioning to the agents.

Azrael cleared his throat. “Now, let us be off. We shall discuss the matter further with Gabriel and the Principalities.”

Azrael waved his hand and a portal back to the E.L.F. office appeared.

“Thank the lord,” sighed Timmid in relief. Tirred was covered in blood and metal. “Good riddance humans,” he spat as he stepped through. Docile and Sunna followed.

The Angel of Death was the last to step through. Before vanishing, he glared at the cowering Agent One and Agent Two with a sharp scythe in his thin hand.

“You have a meeting with your fallen colleagues…and with ME very soon in this century.”

His words promised death and the agents bawled into each other’s arms in a terrified huddle.

Soon, Docile, Tirred, Timmid and Sunna were back in Heaven. The portal closed, leaving the agents stunned once again in the night air.

“So, what now?” asked Agent Two.

“What now?! We now have even more evidence we need to be taken seriously!” exclaimed Agent One. “Plus, we just dodged a bullet…twice!”

The agents smiled and put on their sunglasses again.

“But One, we have no video feeds of the angels.”

Agent One spotted something glinting on the ground and picked it up. It was a small cracked empty bottle of Holy Spirit water that Timmid had left behind during the fight. Almost invisible to the eye was “E.L.F.” written in cursive near the bottom of it. He wrapped his hands around the bottle, a dark glint in his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Agent One with a dark chuckle. “Just wait until corporate finds out about the existence of not only demons…but alternate universes! Hahahahahahaha!”

[zaraomarrogers]

Always and Forever - 4

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Series Warning: Angst, sexual content, 18+, minors do not interact

~*~

Part 4

The rays of light were shining through the windows in Steve’s room. The warmth and brightness of the early morning sun had radiated the mood after a sensual love making happened the other night.

Y/n’s head was tucked on Steve’s naked chest, his arm was around her making patterns on her skin. It was the last day of their college before exams. They had made plans for after they’d graduate, and getting an apartment was on the top of Steve’s list.

He was thrilled to finally have a a hold of his life with Y/n  but in all his excitement he didn’t fail to notice how quiet and aloof she had been from the past couple of weeks. He didn’t bring it up until now, when he felt her lack of response during their combined study sessions. He knew she wasn’t stressed out because of exam, something was bothering her and he wanted to know so that he could fix it.

“What's in your head, Y/n/n?” Steve asked in a raspy, sleepy voice, sending tingles down her body.

She looked up to see him looking at her with adoration filled in his eyes. Moving her head little up, she placed a soft kiss on his lips and smiled.

“I think we should get up and get dressed.” She felt his grip tightened around her.

“Not before you tell me what’s bothering you.” Steve said looking concerned. “And please don’t say ‘nothing’, because I can read you Y/n/n.”

“If I tell you, you won’t get mad at me?” Her eyes were starting to fill with tears.

“Y/n, I would never get mad at you. I can never be.... it’s just not in me.” He softly caressed her cheek, kissing her forehead.

“You can tell me anything.” He placed another kiss on her nose.

“What are your plans for us, Steve?.... How do you see our future once we graduate?” She asked hesitantly.

Steve smiled, a smile that was only for her, his face dreamy.

“That’s been bothering you?” He kissed her chin. She nodded, looking at him expectantly.

“I’ve got couple of internship offers, I’m probably gonna get a call from the one I’m expecting.... I’m hopeful.” He looked at her lovingly.

“....but before everything I’m gonna rent an apartment for both of us.....”

“both of us?”

“Mhhmm... you don’t want to move in with me?”

“I’d love to...”

“....but how are we gonna afford it, Stevie. We don’t have a job yet.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart! I have been saving money for the apartment. And we’ll get a job soon.” Steve  assured her.

“Once I get a job, I’m gonna work harder to buy a house with a big backyard. It’ll take, umm, like 4-5 years.... Once we have our own house, we'll get married, but we can do that before having our house too. Whatever is convenient for you, we’ll do that....” Steve told her excitedly.

“...house with a big backyard?” she bit her lip.

“Yeah! That’s the plan.. our kids will p-"

“If I tell you I don’t want to have kids.. would you still love me?” she looked at him nervously.

“Y/n/n, I will always love you, no matter what. If you don’t want kids then we won’t have ‘em.” It took a minute for Steve to say this to her out loud. He’d always dreamed of having kids with Y/n , that was his ultimate goal.

They laid in silence. After few minutes, Y/n said in a low voice.

“It’s not like I don’t want to have kids, Steve.... its just that I’m scared....” She whispered.

“What are you scared of, Y/n?

“That I won’t be a good mother..”

“Why’d you say that?” Steve propped up on his elbow, concern written all over his face.

“Maybe because I don’t know how to be a good mother. I don’t want to be controlling and manipulative – like my mom.” She whimpered.

“I don’t want my kids to be afraid of me. I fear if they wouldn’t love me.” Tears were shining in her eyes.

“Hey, hey Y/n/n... if we ever have kids, I’m sure they’d love you, more than I ever love you.” He smiled.

With a light frown Y/n made the cutest pout and Steve couldn’t resist to kiss her.

“Steeeeve!!” Y/n giggled, once she pulled back from the kiss.

“What?! I have a very strong feeling that our kids will love you so so so much more than me and damn, I can’t be jealous.” Steve scowled.

“you’re hilarious.” Y/n rolled her eyes. She felt little better after what Steve told her.

“... but you love me right? No matter how much more our kids will love you, I also know that you’re gonna love me.” Steve hovered above her, gathering her in his arms.

“Keep telling yourself that.” She smiled smugly.

Steve placed himself perfectly between her legs and smirked. Their naked bodies beautifully aligned with each other. Leaning down he kissed her on the lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. They both moaned when Steve entered her in a swift motion.

He moved languidly above her, as he kissed her. Soft moans escaping her lips, the rhythm he had built was perfect and she tumbled into ecstasy not too long after, Steve following shortly after.

 ~*~

 “Mama....” Malcolm whispered, “wakey wakey...”

“Mal, why’re you up so early?” she asked him groggily, eyes barely open.

“When daddy come?” Malcolm softly nudged her. He came to lie down beside her in her bedroom.

“It’s too early, sweetheart.” She started rubbing her back slowly in order to put him to sleep again.

“How many time mama?” Malcolm yawned.

“ Almost three hours, Mal. Now c'mon sleep a little more.” She scratched her fingers in his hair.

“No sleepy mama. Pwease no phone daddy. No wana sleep.”

“Daddy is sleeping, cupcake. It’s six thirty in the morning. He gets up late on weekends.”

“Wike me?”

“Yes, just like you and everyone else. Now, c'mon let’s go back to sleep.”

Within few minutes, Malcolm was fast asleep again on her chest but she was wide awake. She didn’t know Mal would be so excited to meet his daddy. But it was clear that he was ready and excited to meet Steve and it was scary for her.

She spent some time in the bed, when she was sure that Malcolm was in deep sleep, she slowly got off the bed. After brushing her teeth, she hopped in the shower. Hot water cascading her body, immediately relieved her tense muscles. A moan escaped her lips at the feeling of water on her skin. In twenty minutes, She was out of the shower, took her time to get dressed and moisturize her skin. Her mind was occupied with thoughts of Steve and how his presence would now effect her and Malcolm’s routine. Thinking about the worst case scenarios, defence mechanism of her brain was actively working.

She didn’t realise her phone was buzzing on the night stand. After tidying up her already neat room, she decided to wake Malcolm up. She gently stroked her fingers in Malcolm’s hair and called his name, placing kisses on his sweet face.

Malcolm giggled and slightly open his beautiful blue eyes.

“When daddy come?” he asked first thing and Y/n clenched her jaws.

“There’s still some time, Mal. Why don’t you get up and get ready.” She reasoned.

“Wana call daddy, pwease mama.”

“Okay, let’s call him.” As she grabbed her phone, she saw two missed calls from Steve and a text message. Steve was asking her if he could bring doughnuts for breakfast along with Coffee for her.

She dialled Steve’s number and handed her phone to Malcolm.

“Hewo daddy.” Malcolm beamed with happiness. Steve had picked up the call on second ring.

“Good morning buddy! How's my good boy.”

“I good, daddy. I go bwush my teet and ready. I waiting for you, daddy.” Malcolm told him in one breath, he was clearly very excited to meet Steve.

“Wowww! You’re such good boy, Mal. I’m on my way, will be there in ten minutes. Do you want to eat doughnuts, buddy.”

Malcolm looked at Y/n, asking for permission.

“Daddy say I eat doughnut?”

“No, I’m making blue Berry pancakes for breakfast. They’re your favourite.” Y/n told Malcolm loud enough for Steve  to hear her.

“Mama making my favouwit bweaky, daddy. I no want doughnut.”

“Okay buddy, then I’ll see you in few minutes.”

“How few minutes, daddy?”

“Ummm....” Steve checked the time on GPS and replied, “eight minutes, I’ll be there in eight minutes.”

“Okay daddy, see you.”  With that Malcolm disconnected the call and handed the phone to Y/n.

“C'mon Mal, let’s brush your teeth and change your clothes.” She smiled at her son, picking him in her arms.

 Steve parked the car on the drive way of Carter's residence. He was nervous would be an understatement. He knew nothing about being a dad of 3.5 year old. He didn’t know what his son's likes and dislikes were. His hobbies, his favourite games to play, nothing, he didn’t have a clue. So far, he only knew that Malcolm liked blue Berry pancakes in his breakfast and Steve smiled to himself. It was his favourite breakfast too.

Steve rang the door bell and waited. He kept shifting from feet to feet. He brought some doughnuts and two coffees, one for him and one for Y/n. He wasn’t sure if she still had the same taste for coffee. The door opened revealing Y/n and Malcolm, he immediately bent down and hugged Malcolm. Y/n took the doughnut box and coffee cup holder from his hand so that he could take Malcolm in his arms.

As they entered the house, Steve looked around the living room connected with large open kitchen. He saw Y/n placing the doughnut box and coffee on the counter and started preparing for the pancakes.

“Come daddy, I wana show you my dwawings.” Malcolm pulled Steve towards the staircase.

“I ‘ave twucks and caws and legos.. you play legos daddy?” Malcolm was excitedly showing him his room and his toys.

“I don’t know how to play with legos but you can teach me.”  

“Okay I show you gawbage twuck we make fwom legos. Okay daddy?”

Malcolm was over the moon with having Steve with him as if he had known him from the beginning. Steve was surprised to see how comfortable Malcolm was with him, like four years of not knowing each other were never there.

They both bonded over making trucks with legos. The drawings that Malcolm had made, Steve gave them some artistic touch with water colours and crayons. Both of them were laughing and enjoying each other’s company immensely.

Y/n could hear the sound of their laughter coming from Malcolm’s room. She didn’t know what to think of Steve’s presence. A part of her wanted Malcolm to grow up having a father in his life but another part of her was apprehensive of Steve, what if he’d leave Malcolm and went away. She wanted to protect Malcolm before it’d happen but for that she needed to speak with Steve.

“What are you thinking, Y/n?” Alice brought her out of her reverie. She came in to the kitchen and found Y/n deep in her thoughts, pancakes were made and placed perfectly in the plate.

“Ummm.. nothing I guess.”

“By the sound of it, Steve is already here and Mal's with him. You okay.” Alice put a hand on her shoulder to which Y/n nodded.

“Okay then, let me go and get them.” Alice went upstairs and knocked at the already ajar door of Malcolm’s room as she entered. She awed over the sight infront of her. Steve was leaned against the bed while was lying on his chest and Steve was reading  him a book Malcolm had now learned by heart.

Alice cleared her throat, “Breakfast is ready! Who wants to have Blue Berry pancakes?”

“Meeee, me..” Malcolm screamed in happiness.

“Hi Alice.” Steve greeted. He took Malcolm in his arms and stood up.

“Good morning Steve! How are you doing?” Alice smiled politely at him.

“I guess I’m good.” He smiles nervously.

“C'mon, let’s have breakfast.” Alice motioned him towards the door and to the staircase. Once they all settled down in the breakfast table, Daniel Carter, Y/n’s dad joined them in the last and immediately it became awkward for Steve. He was sitting right beside Alice, across from Y/n and Malcolm was persistent that he wanted to sit beside his dad.

Steve had known Y/n’s dad almost all his life. His parents and Y/n’s dad were childhood friends. When Steve’s dad passed away, he was only fourteen year old and he remembered how Daniel made sure that Sarah and Steve were taken care of.

When Y/n and him started dating, Daniel was so happy because he knew Steve would take care of his daughter and loved her unconditionally. But when four years ago, Y/n came to him crying with her suitcase, not only he felt betrayed but he was heartbroken as well.

There was an awkward silence on the table but only for few minutes, once Malcolm started talking, there was an ease but the tension between both Steve and Daniel remained thick. Steve tried to start a conversation with him but he wouldn’t even look at him.

Alice kept making small conversation with Steve, asking him about his work and other stuff. Steve kept answering Malcolm’s question in between engaging with him as well. Once the breakfast was over, Malcolm took him in the backyard to play ball with him. Little boy was running, hollering, enjoying every bit of Steve’s presence.

Bucky and Wanda joined them after an hour or so. It was unusual for both of them to wake up early on weekend but Wanda was still pissed that Steve was not only in Boston but in their house as well. Bucky had to calm her down but she wanted to see Y/n herself.

“Y/n/n.... how are you doing?” She came and hug her sister tight.

“I don’t know Wan. I’m trying...” Y/n shrugged.

“You don’t have to. Just kick him out of here and you and Mal don’t need him in your life.”

“Mal wants him in his life, Wanda.” She turned her around and made her look in the backyard where Bucky had joined the father-son duo. They were still playing and laughing.

“Mal is a child. If we tell him that he can’t see his dad, he’d understand.” Wanda was being little too harsh.

“I can’t do that to my son,  Wan. I don’t want him to grow up not knowing his father. I grew up resenting my dad, not knowing the truth. I can’t take that away from my son.” She was visibly hurting but she had to be strong for his son.

“What about you?” Wanda asked.

“What about me?” Y/n frowned.

“Are you okay with him being here?” Wanda had always been straightforward.

“No! I’m not! And I don’t think I’d ever be, Wanda. But I have to put aside my broken heart, my ego, and my broken trust, just so my child would have his father in his life.” She said with conviction.

“Y/n/n.... stop being so selfless. Would you ever do something for you?”

“She is a mother and a good mother always puts her child before her, Wanda. I’m so proud of her.” Alice came in the kitchen.

“Mom! Do you not remember what he did to her?” Wanda clenched her teeth.

“I remember it, sweetheart.” She face Y/n and smiled proudly at her, “She’s taking the wheel in her hands, she’d steer the direction of her path perfectly, I believe in her. You’ll know when you become a mom.” Alice winked at now smiling Y/n and took the tray with glasses and a jug of lemonade towards the backyard.

“Uugghhhh....” Wanda groaned, receiving a chuckle form Y/n.

 ~*~

 “So? What’s your plan now? Still want to be young billionaire?” Bucky laughed at Steve while gulping down the beer.

After breakfast, Malcolm forced Steve to have lunch with him as well. It was as awkward as it could be but Steve survived it. Truth be told, he couldn’t say no to his little boy. He had him wrapped around his little finger already. Steve couldn’t help but promised to pick him after the day care once the work week starts.

“I’m staying.” Steve smiled.

Bucky and Steve were at the bar. Wanda stayed at her house because she wanted to have a sleepover with Y/n and Malcolm. In every couple of weeks, the girls would have a sleepover.

After getting dinner at Boston's famous roadside restaurant, Bucky took Steve to one of the busiest and loud bars.

“What do you mean staying? Don’t you have a job or something?”

“I’m staying, man. For the first time in four years, I don’t have a plan ahead, I just want to stay here with my son.” Steve said.

“Before you say something, Buck, I know.... I know I need to figure out a lot of things. I need to cut all my ties from New York in order to build a new life here. I need to speak with Y/n and work out the days when Mal and I can meet... I need to tell Ma... I know I’ve got alot on my plate and its not easy Buck, but I’m willing to do it. I want to do it.” Steve paused for a minute, “Malcolm might not need me but I need him... I need him in my life Buck. You know he said he loves me.... I don’t even deserve his love... I felt utterly small when he told me that. I was... I didn’t even know he existed until last night... I don’t want to give this up.. not for anything... not for anyone.”

Bucky squeezed his shoulder and smile at his best friend.

“I’ve got your back Steve. I will support you or do whatever to make sure you’re happy and you’re with your little guy and I’d hope you won’t mess this up.”

“Thanks Buck!” Steve smiled, “I think I’m gonna start with calling Peggy and get rid of this so called engagement. And then I’d call Tony and ask of he can arrange something here for me.”

“I think you need to break that engagement thing first.” Bucky cut Steve of.

“I have it planed, I’m calling first thing in the morning, don’t worry Buck.”

Why would I be worried, but just know you’re breaking the engagement on phone, Jerk. Such an asshole, you are.”

They both laughed together, ordering another round of beers before calling it a night.

[baekhvuns]

the duke and his general.

synopsis : in which seonghwa is the duke you’re arranged to, while you’re the general of the royal army.

pairing : seonghwa x reader

themes : angst, comedy & smut. ( tw : blood / war )

word count : 22k ( part two )

you expected everything to go like this, ever since the two of you shared that night together, you’ve never wanted to see him after. the sheer embarrassment and hurt appalled over you, and you were in a complicated state of mind. 

and that’s when you started to avoid him like a plague, no, literally. 

you’ve been waking up before he can, getting ready and successfully leaving before he could wake up. coming back to your room before he comes, showering and sleeping before you could see him. 

you’ve pretended he doesn’t exist for the past four weeks; never once did you look at him in the eye. head down and a small bow or greeting, you walked right pass him whenever you saw him.

simply because, you can’t do it. 

you busied yourself with the duties and the separate military ones, despite the tension between you and seonghwa, none of your comrades questioned anything if they even noticed. 

it’s not like there hasn’t been more than one instance where you walk in the rooming thinking you were early, only to see seonghwa sitting on his bed, a book in his hands and legs crossed.

you would quickly walk away from his sight and you’re sure a deep sigh rings the room, it’s not as if you would keep avoiding him. it’s just that, what you did was awkward and embarrassing for you. you two have no feelings for each other and thus there is no point in making the marriage work.

plus, as written, it is only a contract that lasts for a few months before ultimately you two break off and he marries someone who actually suits him. 

so, when you walk out the bathroom, you’re immediately pushed to the wall and trapped by none other than seonghwa himself. 

his body emits heat and your jaw ticks, he doesn’t say anything for the first few minutes, and you choose to look away. “will you keep avoiding me?” he finally cracks.

there’s a deafening silence between you two, a warm lump that you swallowed quickly almost makes you cough. when you don’t speak or glance at him, he lifts his hand to your chin and forces you to face him. 

his grip isn’t tight or bruising, just enough to guide your face up so he can look the other in the eye.

“will you not even look at me now?” he whispers, “look at me in the eye when i’m speaking to you.” 

“your highness, it’s almost midnight,” you pause, “we should sleep.” 

“we are not falling asleep till i finish my talk,” he grits out and you finally look him in the eye and sigh. 

he grabs your hand and pulls you to sit on his bed, you bite your lower lip at the memories you had on this bed just a few weeks prior.

your eyes are stuck on the pretty carpet on the floor, the only noise being his steady breathing and your heartbeat beating in your ears. 

he hesitates for a moment, leaving a few beats of silence that makes you swallow multiple times. his own self nervous to speak, seeing how quiet it is.

“do you,” he starts, “like someone else— or are you involved with someone outside our marriage.” he plays with his fingers until you answer, mind whirling up the most ridiculous answers you could potentially reply with.

“no, your highness.” you respond quickly, shaking your head.

“stop calling me that.”

“yes, your highness.”

he exhales loudly and then turns into a more serious stance, “have you ever thought about working this marriage out?”

you bite the insides of your cheek; this was exactly the question you were trying to stray away from.

“i-“ you start, turning your head away from him, to glance outside the window. “we are binded together through a piece of contract, your highness. i don’t think i’ve had a single thought on trying to figure out the marriage to potentially make it work.”

“not even once?” he asks, voice now on a lower pitch.

“. . not even once.” 

you avoid looking his way, eyes tiredly focusing outside the window where rays of sun poured through.  

“but i have,” he cracks, “i’ve thought about making our marriage work, i don’t think we both could survive in a loveless marriage, it’ll only hurt us emotionally.”

“but all you did was start fights, bother me just because you wanted a reaction out of me.” you mutter, and he chuckles a little.

“you were the one who started this thing, i told you, you should marry someone not me!” you tell him, voice not raising from your regular calmer tone. 

“yes, i was the one who created this entire contract thing.” he pauses, “i’ll rip it apart.” 

you swallow thickly at his words and the atmosphere made around you, the way he talks so smoothly has you curling your toes. you’ve always been the authoritative one but hearing his lowered voice has shut your mouth up.

“yes, we’ve had our immature arguments on baseless topics.” he lists, “had differences in tastes, opinions, and the way we think.”

“mostly just you,” you add, “you made me almost loose my mind.” 

he bites his lip to stop him from breaking out in a laugh, the expression on your face not helping him. “okay yes i did, but i want to forget that ever happened, instead we should try and sit down to talk.”

you stare at him with narrowed eyes, pressing your lips together.

“i know this is probably a little shocking to you, but i want to make this marriage work.” he eyes you, “it won’t be easy, but i’d like to take the step further.”

you furrows your eyebrows at him, “what do you mean?”

he abruptly stands up, “let’s start from the beginning, forget the contract.” and extends his hand out to you. “it’ll seize to exist.”

“i’m park seonghwa.” you blink repeatedly at him, who stared at you, waiting.

“-duke of eden, firs-“

“park seonghwa, only.” he corrects you with a smile. 

you stare at his hand and then back to his face, he watches you with a smile and slightly tilts his head. with a small smile, you lift your hand to meet his.

“i.. i’m y/n.” he smiles at that and holds onto your hand.

“then miss y/n, let’s start as friends.” 

“ew.”

“ew?” 

seonghwa stares at you wide eyed, your gaze stuck on the red wine placed on the table. ever since the two of you started being ‘friends’, which you were fairly very awkward at, you’ve actually had a decent chat with him.

he officially showed you around the palace, from his library nooks to the secret passageways connecting to different rooms to his personal office. taking you two the hidden rooms, the ones that showcase the stunning beauty of the sea through the windows.

it had only been two days and you’re actually kind of enjoying this, it is still awkward but nonetheless it’s a step further to making this marriage work.

“you don’t drink?”

“you do?” you ask him, lifting your eyes to glance at the apricot hued horizon. 

the two of you were sitting in the balcony that connected to your room, it was almost nightfall, and the entire kingdom was lit up. you could see everything from the secluded space you two had, the small markets, houses, and parliamentary buildings all had their lights turned on.

“should we play a game?” he suggests, resting his arms on the armrest.

“let’s get to know each other through questions,” you hum once again and this time you feel his eyes on you. 

“go on, your highness.” 

he chuckles, “okay then general, how long have you been in the army?” 

you press your lips in a firm line, remembering. “hm, for as long as i can remember, maybe when i was twelve? dad used to teach me a lot, unofficially at twelve and then officially at eighteen.” 

he nods, impressed and sips on is wine. “that’s quite interesting, you’ve spent almost your entire childhood serving here huh?”

you smile, “i have,”

“do you regret it?”

“not one bit.” 

he smiles, “i remember seeing you as a teen,” he pauses to remember. “with a hard stare and a small badge you had on your chest.”

you tick your eyebrow up in surprise, “i do too, just occasional glances at you, wherever you were, i was too.”

“how about you, your highness.” you ask this time, and he turns to look at you. “how many proposals have you rejected before accepting this one?”

he raises an eyebrow at your question, no in malice but in amusement. “if you count every kingdom including empire, and a few from outside then around, uh, seventeen?”

your eyes grow wide at his answer, “seventeen? that’s quite a lot.” 

he nods, “how about you, i’ve heard that your mother tried to set you up with a few nobles.”

you snort, grabbing the wine from the table to your surprise and seonghwa’s. “I didn’t want to get married, and all the ones she choose were just not my type.” you cringe, “all i remember is their mothers wanting me to quit working here.”

he smirks, eyes falling from your eyes to the nose bridge and then to your lightly tinted lips. “can’t imagine you with one of those flimsy guys,” he lets out and you squint your eyes at him.

“what? you almost punched me!” he retorts, “and made me kneel to you!” you shake your head at his whining.

“you asked for both of them.” 

he shakes his head and then continues, “how many wars or even battles have you fought?”

you bring your knees to your chest as your eyes peer out the horizon, “i think three wars? one for ecuador and the other two with elias-“

“ah, that useless one.” he lets out a quiet gasp as he drinks the wine.

“yeah,” you continue, “and then the battles eden has had, some smaller stuff.” you pause.

“i’ve honestly forgotten how many i have fought,” you say as the wind sifts through your hair and seonghwa finds purchase in staring at you.

“do you have any scars?” he asks, feeling a smile curl up on his lips. 

“plenty,” you laugh, remembering the one on your thigh, back, neck and right under your lip. you’re proud of them, because you’ve earned every bit of them by fighting for your kingdom’s protection. 

“what do you even do?” you break in and ask, “aside from cornering girls that is.” 

he laughs at your question and your heart rate quickens, “well, i handle all my father’s work, he’s going to step down soon so i have to follow his footsteps.” 

“accompanying him at travels, visit the town once in a while, make sure everything’s been done correctly with no errors.”  

“and then sign a bunch of documents for eden, then repeat.”

you nod, reaching forward to grab the wine glass he had just lifted and bring it your lips to gulp it down. 

his wide eyes watch you, “why did you want to make this marriage work, you know, considering how adamant you were about that contract?”

he seems to glance of at the scenery, thinking about the question. “i don’t think i’d wanted get married again,” he looks at you. “after the months that are over, that is.”

“i didn’t want marriage because i was, let’s say, scared.” he pauses, “which made me reject everyone.” 

you nod slowly, “i’ve seen how some weddings have ended and, the ones i’ve heard growing up. it was scary but to think about it, y’know?”

he lets out a loud exhale, “i didn’t want to take the risk for it.” 

you nod slowly, “did you eventually wanted to get married? seeing, you’ll be taking the crown in a matter of months.”

he hums, “at one point i did, i wanted a marriage, just not a bad one.” you snort. 

“yet you were trying to make it a bad one,” you say, and he laughs, nodding.

“did you want this?” he asks, and you pause. 

“not like this,” you sip the wine, remembering how this all started. “i wanted simple love, where the two of us live by the seashore and grow old together.”

“have kids at some point and live a simple life, but this, is totally opposite that.” 

he smiles, “i mean to let you know, i have a palace near the seashor-“

“no thanks.” you interrupt him, closing your eyes.

“ah there’s a question i want to ask,” you hum, asking him to continue. “what impresses you?”

“a lot of things actually,” you pique, licking your lips. 

he grins, stretching his arms forward before slyly putting it behind the frame of the couch, behind you. “i’m not the one who usually shows off but i own the country if that impresses you?”

you stare at him blankly, “i’m good.” he nods, bringing his arms back to him. 

you two then stare off into the horizon, enjoying the comfortable silence. the wind blowing onto your faces, warm yet cool. a series of relaxed sighs would leave you too from time to time and you spared him some glances.  

you could see the way his face had no flaws, perfect skin and face. your eyes then stare at his plumpy lips, quickly looking away before he could catch you.

“do you want kids?” he suddenly asks, and you chuckle, he grinned, it felt good hearing you laugh. 

“at some point, of course.” you cradle your face on your palm, “do you?”

you see his face break out in a bright smile, “of course! i’ve always loved kids, they’re so cute and little and just happy all the time!”

you hum, “you know they cry loudly, poo everywhere and won’t let you sleep at night?”

he turns to face you, “still cute.”

you shake your head and then tie your hair up, then you stand up after a few beats of silence. with a small wave at seonghwa you walked inside, leaving the man alone. 

“i’ll see you tomorrow, seonghwa.”

he nods and then stops dramatically. “did you just call me by my name!?”

“it’s your first visit home after our marriage, isn’t it?” you nod, a smile gracing your lips while your eyes glance around your town.

“uh huh,” you say as one of the doors to your house opens, revealing all your aunts and uncles with arms wide open.

you laugh nervously and lean over to seonghwa who’s already waving his hand at them beautifully, “okay, just behave and act like my nice husband for ten seconds and they’ll be gone.” 

he smiles as you walk past him, and he follows with his hands folded behind his back. 

once you two enter your house, all your relatives seemed to be lined up with big smiles on their faces. “how lovely.” you tightly smiled, and he snorts beside you.

and then your eyes meet your aunts who stare between you and the man standing beside you, clearing your throat you introduce him.

“everyone,” you phase to give seonghwa a look, “this is seonghwa, my husband.”

seonghwa feels his heart swell, a never-ending cheeky smile on his face and the though of you calling him ‘my husband’ for the first time thrills him.

he goes forward to greet them while his eyes meet yours from time to time, and that’s when you notice he’s mouthing the seconds to you.

“ten,” he greets your uncles, “nine.” aunts.

“eight and seven,” when near your cousins.

“six, five and four-“ when he stops beside your father and gives him a salute, to which your dad chuckles at, very surprisingly.

you find yourself snorting at seonghwa, however your eyes follow every movement of his. the smile that reveals his pearly whites, he turns his head to whisper “three and two.” and you nod.

the shiny eyes of his when he talks to your brother and laugh at something he said, which makes you think it was your brother exposing you.

once he’s done greeting everyone, they all start to slowly leave and seonghwa finds his arms around your waist, shooting butterflies in your stomach as he jerks you closer to him. 

“you can let go now,” you say, eyes on that one aunt who isn’t leaving. “they’re all gone.”

the next few hours were perhaps the most weirdest ones, seonghwa had seemed to befriend your mother in a jiffy while your brother wiggles his eyebrows at you for anything seonghwa does that impresses you family even more. 

“stop it, sehun.” you stick your tongue out at him while walking to help your mother with the dinner.

“ahh, did you see all your relatives gush over him?” the minute you enter, your mother corners you.

you scoff, “i did,” and pause, your relatives sure did seem too interested in him more than you.   

“they’re probably going to ask him to divorce me for their dau-“ you didn’t even get the chance to finish your sentence because your very own mother hit you with a green onion.

“why would seonghwa ever do that?” she glares, and you almost laugh out loud, spilling the beans of the contract you two had. 

“both of you look great together,” you turn to your mom, leaning your back on the counter so that the kitchen entrance is in your viewpoint. “the way he looks at you, it’s all visible!”

you’re about to retort back that you see seonghwa standing at the door, you urge him to come in, but he places a finger on his lips, as if to not talk. you squint your eyes at him but agree anyways.

your mother who seems absolutely oblivious to the situation opens her big mouth, “just give me the baby news already! i want to be a grandma before i die.” 

your wide eyes immediately land on seonghwa’s, his eyebrows shoot up to his forehead while your mother rants about wanting to see more grandkids.

“your oldest child has two, mom, twins at that.” you refer to your older sister, and her two devil of kids.

you see how his lips form a smirk, his head nodding to everything your mom talks about. he then uses his two fingers to poke his cheeks, eyes shiny and wide as he bobs his head.

“i don’t think you’ll hear that news soon,” you say, eyes still on him. 

he tilts his head and mouths a, “why not?”

“why not?” your mother asks, “you both would be lovely parents.” and seonghwa nods.

“seonghwa wouldn’t want them.” you narrow your eyes at him, “we haven’t discussed anything yet.”

he leans on the door frame and lifts his hands up, “how many do you think you want?” your mother asks, and you just want to leave the room already.

seonghwa jumps in his spot to get your attention, hands waving at you frantically, your eyes travel from your mother to his. 

he lifts one, two, three, four and five of his fingers, your eyes widen in shock.

“five?!” you yell out loud, making your mother flinch. 

“you want five kids?” your mother questions you with shock and seonghwa nods with a teasing smile before leaving the room, leaving you to deal with her.

“i- no!” with that you glared out the door, sparing your mother a glance before walking out to find him.

the rest of the night was everyone having fun, seonghwa making everyone laugh while your brother and mother spade you amused glances whenever they’d him talk. 

when the visit was over, you wave to your family with big smiles, your hands carried random gifts your mother prepared for you and seonghwa. 

the two of you walk back to the car prepared for you, arms and shoulders brushing each other’s, all on purpose, as you walk back in silence.  

“today was fun,” he says, cheeks heating up at the memory of few moments prior. “i like your family.”

you find yourself smiling too, “it was, they loved you.”

he snorts, “who wouldn’t.” 

you roll your eyes and walk faster, leaving a whining seonghwa behind. he runs after you as you keep walking with a smile, and a totally different reason to why your heart was beating so rapidly.

once the two of you sat down in the cars, you lean back in the seat and close your eyes. a sigh escapes your lips, and you get comfortable in your seat, the ride back to the palace was a long one and getting a nap was what you wanted.

seonghwa does the same, but before he shuts his eyes, he leans down to press his lips against your cheeks, your eyes shoot open at that and he smiles against your skin. 

he then brushes his lips against your ear, “one and zero.”

your eyes blinked at the flash, so bright and blinding. eyes focusing on the room containing a man standing behind the big camera, a big smile on his face as he jumped around. 

“just tilt your head to the side,” he instructs, and you feel seonghwa tilt his head towards you, his gaze roaming your side profile.

“was this necessary,” you ask, pressing your lips in a tight smile as you lifted your hand to neatly place on his chest. 

head facing the front with a smile that could only be called fake, “traditions, y/n, traditions.” he hums bringing you closer by your waist.

family portraits were one of the things every family had to do, to ensure that the future generations knew who the heirs, couples, kids and kings and queens were.

this is what you two were doing, dressed in matching clothes as the man in front of you snapped pictures with his vintage camera.

you find yourself fully paying attention to the camera man that, you almost don’t feel a hand creeping up your back. “what?” you whisper-yelled, looking over your shoulder.

“nothing,” he responds with a grin, “focus on the camera.” fingers drawing circles on your back, going up with each one.

you’re now sat beside him, shoulders touching intentionally and the heat of his body radiating to you. instinctively you lean towards him, both your heads tilt and a smile forms over your lips. 

and then you feel his fingers start to dwindle with your zipper, you stiffen. side eyeing his face that’s bright and happily smiling, one hand neatly placed on your thigh while the other is flat in your back.

“seonghwa,” you warn the man, who only responds with a hum in a singing tone that made your heartbeat fasten.

“yes, sweetheart.” he lowers his chin to place on your shoulder, and you swallow staring at the man ahead who only showed a thumbs up with both of his hands.

“this isn’t the right place to-“ you bite on your tongue when you feel him unzip your dress from the back, slowly, while he nuzzles his cheeks into yours and you break out into a smile.

“everything is a right place if you make it,” he hushes you. slowly unzipping your dress and you shiver when the cold air hits your back, his long and slim fingers caress your skin softly.

his fingertips are hot against your skin and you fight the urge to not stare at him, because you feel that stare, he does. the one where his eyes grow darker, and a glint of playfulness covers him. 

you feel his breathe hit your neck and you turn your head to him, “we can’t, the man’s right the-“

he interrupts you by placing his feverish lips on your cheek, your eyes wide in surprise while the camera man squeals something about the right pose. 

seonghwa’s lips form into a boyish grin, his dark hair cover his eyes and it makes him more enticing. you swallow once again, looking ahead as your cheeks start to get warmer.

one thing he loved to do was, to see your reaction to his touch. he loved the way you twitch out of embarrassment when he touches you or avoid his holds when you’re surrounded by people and he’s sure that it effects you as much as it does to him.

he then wraps a hand around your shoulder, a hand reaching out to gently run through your hair. he hears you inhale shakily and turns his gaze to the front.

eyeing the man in front of him, he cocks up an eyebrow at the man who timidly, yet hastily bows and leaves the room. not before tripping over a few wires on his way out. 

the second the doors shut; it doesn’t take seonghwa a second to pin you on the red couch. you let out a small noise of surprise when he brings your arms above your head.

you can’t control the breathy exhale your lips leave, he dips his face closer to yours and his eyes, filled with every emotion that could possibly decipher lust, desire and playfulness. 

“seonghwa,” you mutter, shakily. eyes frantically searching the room because anyone could walk in, at any given time.

“y/n...” he whispers, lips quirking up into a smirk and he lowers his head down to just inches away from your lips. 

“that’s the thrill baby,” he doesn’t let you speak more as he smashes his lips against yours, a moan leaves your lips seconds later and he presses his lips against yours even more.

his hands run down your curves, up and down as one of them makes its way to your back. 

both your eyes are shut close, lips moulding into each other’s such such finesse that it has him letting out a groan. lips parting for air, tongues crashing as you two moan breathily in unison.

you rake a hand to cup his cheek and his hand that rests on your back, brings the straps of your dress down your shoulders. leaving it up just enough so he can see your cleavage and the goosebumps that come with.

he grabs onto your waist firmly, arching your back to him and he slows down the kiss, turning it more sensual and rhythmic before parting away completely all sloppy and wet and soft.

his lips then hover over the shell of your ear, “won’t you make those pretty noises for me?” he mumbles between kisses he places down your neck, nuzzling his nose into your hair while doing so.

“hm?” he quirks, “i want to hear every single one of those noises, i want everyone to hear them.” 

his tongue flees out his mouth and he licks a circle over the small skin, you let out a tiny mewl and grip his white shirt.

“be louder, baby,” you moan louder when he bites down on your skin. “i want everyone to know how good i make you feel.”

you squirm under him when you feel him suck harshly, mouth hung open in silent cry. his other hand trails down to bunch up your dress over your waist, fingers gingerly lingering over your inner thighs. 

“h-hwa,” you let out a broken whine and he stops all together and then looks into your eyes and it has you gushing with arousal, you’re sure he can feel the heat as his hand rests closer to your underwear.

“what did you say?” he whispers, and you can only stare back in response before he pecks your lips again. “say that again, baby.”

you part your lips when he grinds on you, “hwa,” when he hears you repeat it, he swears he’s never liked that name so much in life.

and you assume he likes it when you call him that, of course he does, it makes him swallow and he feels his cock harden in his pants.

when he looks into your eyes, hooded and full of lust it as him forgetting just who you are and what you could do to him.

his eyes go down to your lips that you’re biting while staring at him with curiosity, his fingers toy with the band on your underwear as he stares at you poking your tongue out.

you see how his swollen lips form into a smile, his eyes this time not only showing desire but something... else you can quite comprehend.

you mirror his smile, but it falters into a loud moan when he slips his fingers under your band and brushes against your pussy, your mouth falls open and he closes it with his lips.

you feel them feverishly trail down your neck and then to your collarbones, while his fingers slip in and out of you. “god, you’re so wet.” he groans against your lips.

your legs spread wide open when he lazily drops your underwear lower, he watches you shiver but only responds by sucking on your skin, marking you with his creation.

you let out moans that can only be described as high pitched, and almost borderline pornographic. he hums and groans against you, letting out moans of his own. 

you exhale his name out loudly and he brings his lips to connect with yours once again, you grind yourself to his fingers while he bites down on your lower lip.

“are you close?” he asks, speeding his fingers down your clit, curling around your g-spot so perfectly that it has you rolling your eyes and head back. 

you can only moan in response, wailing your head to the side as he fastens his speed. bunching up your dress higher and you feel the cold hit your skin, he nuzzles into your neck while shamelessly numbing “good girl” “that’s my baby” “hm, who’s are you?” to which you’d respond with his. 

once you let out a loud cry of his name it hushes you with his lips, mumbling for you to “come on my fingers,” and you do as he says, wrapping your arm around his shoulder.

he then tilts his head, bringing the same fingers that he had in you seconds ago to his mouth. he swirls his tongue around them, and you moan just at the look of that, he then brings those fingers to your lips.

and you wrap your mouth around them, sucking on them as your spit mixes with his. he holds back a growl when he sees how your eyes meet when you swirl your tongue around his fingers, he feels his cock twitch when your eyes roll back.

he ignores the faint noise of the door clicking and lowers his lips to your clothed chest. he feels your boobs all hard and perky and lulls his head back to hold himself in. 

he moves his lips to the strap of your dress; his teeth graze the fabric of the top and bites onto it lightly. your hand takes through his hair and he hums in delight.

his intense eyes stare into yours while he brings down the top of your dress, slowly unraveling your naked chest and he growls looking into your eyes. 

the corner of his lips rises, and he licks his lower lip, pointing his tongue out at your nipple. he’s just about to touch it but a loud cracking nose interrupts you two, your wide eyes stare into his, in panic.

completely forgetting your surroundings, seonghwa lifts his eyes to see where the crash came from and cocks his eyebrow up.

“god damnit, san, that was ancestral.” 

your fingers tighten against his shirt when you hear the familiar name, hiding your face into his neck in sheer embarrassment as your cheeks heat up.

“sorry,” you hear his response, almost strained.

“what’re you doing here?” seonghwa asks, he feels you tighten your grasp against his shirt, and he softly caresses your skin.

“i-,” the said man chokes up, eyes wandering everywhere except the two. 

but he’s already seen it, him on top of you, your moans being pathetically loud and pretty. 

he’s also equally shocked and turned on at the same time, he watches you just seconds prior arching your body up to the duke as your lips parted in ecstasy. 

you feel seonghwa hum against you and he turns to look at you, “trust me,” he places his lips onto your again and you smile slightly.

“how much did you watch?” seonghwa asks the man once again, this time sitting up and you cover yourself, but he stops you. 

his fingers graze your hardened nipples, and you hiss lowly, swallowing as your gaze is stuck on his side. 

“just a little,” san lets out, suddenly finding the floor extremely interesting. 

seonghwa caresses your waist and you lift yourself on your elbows, finally sparing san a glance. 

he stands in a corner, hands folded in front of him making the tent he’s hiding very obvious. 

you eye seonghwa and he smirks, “well then, what’re you waiting for? join us.” 

“w-what,” you and san blink at the man, making swallow and look at san, who had two toned hair.

san’s eyes meet yours briefly before they flicker back to seonghwa who shrugs his shoulders, “i’m sure you had a reason to stay and watch,” he mutters, standing up.

san’s eyes finally fall over yours for a few minutes longer, he sees your red dress bunched up to your waist, your hair tousling over one another and how your boobs peeked out the dress. 

he’d never think he’d see his general like this, and he thinks he quite likes it. 

he swallows when seonghwa lifts two of his fingers for him to come further, and he hesitantly takes step forward not before giving you a glance.

you nod and slowly perch yourself up, legs spread open to a distance, revealing everything to the man’s vision.

you weren’t oblivious to the stares the man would give you, sometimes those that linger longer than before. 

you have confronted him about it on a drunk nigh when he revealed his crush on you, you laughed it off and told him “there will be a much better person for you to be with.”

but it seems as if his fantasies had caved him in, when he heard you and seonghwa going at it just as he walked the hallways. he thinks it really was god’s wish when he decided to peek in.

seonghwa gives you a glance, as if asking you if that was okay. you nod slowly, and he goes to lean on the wall opposite you.

“san,” you call out and he lifts his head up, eyes wide like a deer. “come here.” 

he does what you say and stops when he’s standing between your legs, seonghwa clears his throat from the back.

“no kiss on the lips.”

you tilt your head to the side, meeting your hair fall over your shoulders prettily and it makes san bite his lips.

“only once san,” you say, “i know you want it, so here i am.”

“go on,” you and seonghwa say together.

he watches you with wide eyes, “are you sure?” you nod, tucking your leg to the side and it’s the way something in him awakens and he places his knee in-between your legs. 

he cups your jaw and lowers his lips to chastely kiss your cheek, “then i will follow every order my general gives me.” 

you don’t miss the way his eyes darken at that, and the way seonghwa taps his feet.

you smile when he hides his face in your hair, lips grazing your neck and you shiver when his lips touch the sweet spot right under your ear.

he places his lips softly over your skin, humming as he inhaled your scent. he already knows the marks done on your neck are by seonghwa, but it doesn’t stop him from sucking on your skin, to create his own mark on you.

you breath shakily when his knee moves closer to your center, his hand cupping your jaw while the other travels down to hold onto your boobs. 

he stifles back a moan of his down when your lips touch his cheek, his hands knead and squish the soft skin of your breasts. 

your lips let out broken whines that has him riling, he harshly sucks on your neck and you don’t stop the airy “san,” that leaves your lips, and he stops all together, when he feels your leg wrapping around his knee.

his eyes glance at your lips and you raise your eyebrow at him, lulling your head back, puckering your lips as if taunting him to touch him with his own.

he smirks but only dips his head lower to your breast and you whine when he moulds his mouth over your bud, circling his tongue all over and coating it with his saliva.

he sucks and hums against your sensitive nipple while you let out strangled moans that has his cock hardening in his pants. 

it’s only then when he finally looks up, the distance between you two barely any. he stares at your lips and his lips let out a mewl, he wants to taste you but the man standing behind with daggers in his eyes make him think otherwise.

“san,” your voice fills his ears, and he looks up, “kiss me.” 

you jut your chin to his, eyes challenging him to kiss you. his hand tightens around your jaw, “y/n...” 

as much as he wants to fulfil your wish, and his. he knows seonghwa would get mad, but the way you’re looking at him, puckering your lips to his.

he thinks, it’s a once in life chance.

san looks over his shoulders and sees seonghwa leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

san then looks over at you, and then back at seonghwa and mutters a. “sorry, seonghwa.” although not really sorry.

before crashing his lips onto yours, you gasp when he does so but it turns into a muffled moan. his tongue barely touches yours that he’s yanked off from you, your chest heaves up and down while seonghwa straightens the man.

asking him to leave, and so he does.

you feel seonghwa stare at you fixing your dress up, when you do stand up he grabs the back of your neck and slams his lips to yours.

“i told him not too,” he says between the kisses, using his tongue to swipe across your lips softly and you smile.  “mine, you understand that?” 

he pulls away and looks at you, “i’ll be right back.” 

“where?” you ask.

“i’ve to deal with san.” 

“when did that happen?” 

“i don’t know, all i know is we have to hurry because everyone is already there!” you stand there looking at seonghwa run around the room, flinging his tuxedo and tie on the bed while running gel through his hair.

when he dramatically pauses to look at you, “what, go get ready.” he walks to you, dressed in his silk pyjamas that fit him loosely.

“unless you want me to dress you?” he quirks up an eyebrow, bringing you to him by the use of his arm. “hm?” 

you smack his arm away, walking to where your clothes were as he panics in the background while you take your sweet time to pick out your stuff.

when you find yourself all dressed, seonghwa leans on the canopy bed frame watching you struggle to put a piece of earring in your ear.

he watches you lean over the vanity, curves on display in the black and white dress, your red lips mumbling some cursing which he finds unusually hot. 

a small frown on your face as you struggle with the earrings he brought, he pushes himself off and comes to stand right behind you. your back flush against his towering self, he holds onto your wrist, gently refraining you.

he grabs onto the earring and places it on the vanity, you watch him do so through the mirror. the strangely intimate atmosphere quickened the speed of your heart, his fingers fondle with your hair, eventually covering the ear without the accessory.

he then holds onto your forearms and squishes his cheek into yours, “you’re hot.” shifting his hands to your waist, which he squeezes slightly. 

your lips break out into a smile and grab his hands, turning around you wrap your arms around his neck. 

with a giggle you don’t know what comes over you, that you place a peck on his lips. “thank you mr. park, you’re not bad yourself.”

“thank you mrs. park, now, shall we?” he suddenly lowers his voice to a british accent and you pretend to fake a gasp, “of course.”

you two leave in laughter and return back tired, or more so you leaning on seonghwa’s shoulder while he supports you. giggling at some joke he said that has the two of you laughing loudly in the otherwise quiet palace. 

he asks if you’re tired and you nod against his shoulder, he smiles because in the end of the day, he knows you have a tiring job. how you’re so uptight and working with your entire body and brain, he loves that you’re like this with him.

comfortable, he likes the sound of that, a lot. 

it’s the only time he’s dared to run a hand through your hair, poke your cheek, make you laugh, tickle you, and then pick you up.

he knows you’re too tired to protest, and you give in. head laid on his chest and arms wrapped around his neck, he mumbles a few jokes softly in a attempt for you to keep awake.

every giggle or chuckle you let out has his heart beating and cheeks warming up, he looks down at you, nuzzling into his chest with a smile on your face. 

“stay awake for me y/n,” he hums, and you somehow nod through a sleepy phase.

when he enters the room, he walks straight to the bathroom. placing you onto the toilet seat while he goes to grab your pyjamas, when he returns, he sees you perching your head on the counter.

hair covering half your face and your eyes shut, he works quickly and comes to kneel by you. 

timidly he reaches out to brush your hair to the side, smiling at your cheek squishing against the counter he holds onto your face and taps your cheeks.

“wake up y/n,” he mutters, “baby?” 

you let out a whine when stands up, one hand interlinked with yours while the other uses a cotton swab with a remover on it to bring it to your face.

“close your eyes for me,” he settles himself between your legs, holding your chin as he wipes off all the makeup in one go. 

he then asks you to stand up and wash your face, you do as he says with closed eyes and he watches you with a worried glance when you stumble to the sink, washing your face successfully.

with a gasp from your lips, he plops you on the counter. smiling widely when you wrap your arms around his waist and it has butterflies erupting in his stomach, he likes this a lot. 

he likes the feeling of this solace, just you two alone in a warm atmosphere on a dark night, where it’s quiet, and the lightings comforting. when he slips out some puns and you whine in response, when he’s about to grab a little lotion, you ask him to wash his face too.

confused he does it nonetheless and you grab two out some lotion on your hands, “thank you for doing this hwa,” you mumble lazily, tapping the lotion in dots over his face before rubbing them across.

“it’s nothing,” he responds, puckering his lips when your fingers brush his lips. 

he repeats the same thing as you and then shoves you your set of pyjamas he bought recently, but instead of grabbing them you raise your arms, eyes closed and a smile on your face.

“what?” you say, “didn’t think i’d be like this?” 

he shakes his head with a smile before coming in closer to tie your hair up, he smirks at the proximity and it’s as if you can feel him smirking you slap his chest, and he feigns a pained groan.

he presses his lips gently on the apples of your cheek before backing away, “do you want me to change you?” you nod.

“what’s there to hide anyways,” you mumble lowly, “you’ve seen it all.” 

he hums in acknowledgment, grabbing the top and then draping it over you but not buttoning it fully. then, he reaches underneath the shirt to lift down your straps, making sure it’s comfortable enough when it’s all the way down.

you button the rest of your shirt up and wear your pants, not realizing the matching pyjamas you walk out the room and head for the couch.

“where are you going?” he interrupts, fixing the blanket right as he walks out.

“bed,” you point to the couch, making your way towards it but you’re pulled by the back of your collar to meet with seonghwa’s towering front. 

he dips his head to your ear, “but that’s your bed.” he nods towards the one he sleeps at and you swallow. 

“come,” he ushers you onto the soft bed and he walks to the other side. 

“will you be sleeping on the couch then?” you ask he and stops, “no? why would i, this is our bed.”

he stops, “we sleep here, together.” 

“-flip it like that— yeah, that’s it!” you yell, holding onto jongho’s arm with force. 

the man whines beside you and you stifle out a laugh, “why do you always pick on me,” he says, pouting.

“i’m not picking on you ho, you learn things quicker than others.” you explain, moving his arm to the right, “so you can help others understand better, when i’m not there.”

“so what you’re saying is, i take your position after you retire and whatever?” you smack the back of his head lightly and he once again whines.

“oh, where’s san?” you ask, motioning jongho to copy what you were doing.

“he’s-“ he pauses to take a breathe, “he’s gone back to eros, something came up about some people missing into thin air.”

you frown, “that’s weird,” telling jongho to take a break.

“you know what’s weirder? seeing your husband stand there looking at me as if he’ll kill me.” jongho points his finger at the man leaning on the column.

when you turn your head to him, he immediately straightens himself and you realize he’s in his pyjamas, hair all fluffy, eyes shinning and his cheeks puffy.

“he really woke up early to watch you practice?” hongjoong teases from the side and you smirk, shrugging your shoulders.

“mayhaps,” tossing your weapons to the side you bid them all a bye and an good morning before running to seonghwa.

a smile graces your lips when his eyes brighten, his arms are widespread, and you link yours with his. “let’s get you back to bed,” you mutter, dragging his sleepy yet clingy self back to your chambers.

you realize that this wasn’t the first time he’s woken up early to come and watch you practice, and whenever you’d ask him why his response only made your insides flip.

“why do you come to watch us practice every day?”

he’d grin and wrap his arms around you like a bear, “because the bed isn’t warm without you,” you’d laugh at his attempts to keep you by him whenever you had to leave.

sometimes during the dark hours of night, when the field is only illuminated by torches. seonghwa waits for you to finish the last off, two drinks in his hands, fresh and cold. 

when you’re done, the two of you walk to the roof of the castle. a balcony only the two of you use that showcases the entirety of the kingdom, with drinks in your hands, sitting on the wall with your feet hanging off in air.

chatting away about really anything, sharing glances that were not so awkward anymore. the breeze up high would be so fast, that the two of you have almost fell. 

poking each other where you’re ticklish the most, seonghwa sitting with his back faced in between your legs while you played with his hair. or when he’d grab those same hands and bring them to his lips, mumbling something that’d make you laugh.

in the matter of months, the relationship between you two had completely flipped. 

it’s as if you two know almost anything about each other, what makes you smack him, what makes you laugh, the jokes, the massages, and the spontaneous trips you two take in the middle of the night on your horses.

this one time when he had marched into your office, hands full of chips and other food. 

you lift your head up from the amount of paper works scattered on your desk, “oh? seonghwa, do you need anything?” you ask the man standing at your doorstep, a pout formed on his lips.

he’s standing there wearing his pyjamas that only he looks good in, you throw your pen away and lean back on your chair, crossing your arms.

he walks in with his hands placed by his waist, cheeks puffed. “why do you not pay attention to me?” he asks, and you have to stop yourself from cooing at him.

“i told you, there’s a few problems at the borders,” you pause to look at his face. “i need to finish a few paper works.”

“but you’ve been busy all week,” he lifts his hand up, “one, you’re always on the fields outside.” he brings down a finger.

“and then you loudly yell the marching chants that make me flinch!” he whines, and you laugh at his words.

“really? am i that loud?” you ask him, and he nods.

he suddenly stands up and does a aggressive salut, “soldiers!” he imitates your tone, “in line now, if you don’t get in the line, thirteen laps around the palace!” 

you laugh at the way he’s marching back and forth, imitating the scared looks of your soldiers whenever they have to run or when you yell at them.

or when you would walk in during evening to see him sitting on his bed, deep in thought. you pause, “are you alright?” you question, and he finally lifts his head up.

“no,” he responds.

you frown, “no?” 

he hums with a pout, and you walk near him and kneel down to his level, wondering what exactly had happened for him to be sitting all alone. 

“no,” he pauses, “but a kiss can help.”

you smack his knee and get up but he grabs your wrist and turns you to him, your body falls on him and he holds onto your waist as you two fall back slowly.

“please,” he pouts, puckering his lips and you laugh. shaking your head and then placing a small peck but he takes the chance to deepen it.

and considering how close you two have gotten, and the level of comfort thats between you two. 

seeing that, you and him have done it almost everywhere in the palace.

it usually ends up with you two being borderline caught by some older advisors who roam the halls often.

the ball party was where it all first started. 

“where- seonghwa the guests, they’re waiting!” 

“baby, i couldn’t care less about those guests,” he backs you up against the door, “i want to hear you, right now.” 

he’d growl and bunches up your dress, asking you to hold it while he traces his fingers over the lacy panties you had worn. 

you’d shiver when he would part the fabric to the side, feel his hot breath over your pussy before he’d dive his tongue in you. 

lapping, swirling and circling all over your clit, gathering all the juices you’d spill out, and using his tongue at different speeds. he’d hold onto your thighs, one leg over his shoulder and his mouth doing wonders. 

while your head was thrown back and your mouth was letting out breathy and airy moans of his names that you’re sure someone would hear. 

but that won’t stop him from using his slim and long fingers to curl up inside you, his face hidden in your neck while he fingered your already sensitive clit.

he’d place soft kisses over your neck while moaning your name out, you’d shut your eyes tightly when he would start to nibble on your earlobe and quickening his pace on your pussy. 

“that’s my good girl,” he groans against you, slowing down the speed of his fingers that’d only have you crying his name out in pleasure.

the hallways.

“i hate you so much,” you say between your laughs and he cages you between his arms, grabbing your hands to put them above your head.

“do you now?” he closes the distance between you two, “that’s not what you say when you’re screaming my name, hm?” 

your lips break out into a smile when he placed his softer ones on yours, he himself enjoying the bond you two had.

“you know if we keep doing this,” you gasp, “you’ll be a father in no time.”

he smirks, nuzzling into your neck. “you finally understood my intentions?”

his free hand moves down to grip your waist, and you whine when he does so, nibbling on your lower lip, swiping his tongue over your lips. 

the sound of lips smacking against one another rings the empty hallway, teeth clashing and muffled moans the two of you cry out in unison.

you move your hands to wrap around his neck, and his places his hands on the curve of your ass. pushing you to the wall while he weighs onto you, you would be daring enough to bite his lip which would have him tighten the grip on your ass.

your fingers play with with his hair, tugging on them which would have him humming against your lips. you two would only part away when the sound of footsteps start to come closer.

hurriedly pushing each other away and fixing your clothes and making a run for it to the other side of the palace, laughing and giggling over the thrill of being caught.

then there was the time when you would push him against the mirror, cupping his cheek and smashing your lips onto his. or when he would fiddle with your dress straps only to start placing feathery kisses up your neck, grabbing your chest and squeezing them through the fabric.

or when you’d take off his shirt and climb over him, hands grazing his stunning built yet large and lean body. straddling his waist while sucking on his skin, leaving your own mark on him.

where he would throw his head back, hands gripping your ass as you slowly grind over him. his lips would part, and low and deep moans would leave his mouth, you would bite your lips and start to move faster.

his eyebrows would touch, and he would bite his lips, you’d him against his skin, using your tongue and curling, twirling and swirling over his neck.

it would lead him to trail his hands under your shirt, glancing at you and then letting out a mewl when you hadn’t worn your bra, his larger hands coming to cup them. 

his fingers graze your hardened nipples, tweaking and rolling it while squeezing and kneading your perky doubles. and then trailing his hands down your stomach and under your pants, then he would flip you over and overtake you.

“you’re so wet,” he would coo in your ear and you’d nod, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. your own moan would follow when he’d curl his fingers around a particular bundle of nerves. 

your head would fall back on the bed, “all for me, hm? y/n, all for me?”

“f-for you,” you’d let out when the heat in you became unbearable and you came.

and that’s when you heard something you’ve never thought you would, “god, i love you so much y/n.” 

your head would fall back, chest heaving up and down heavily and your heart beating for an entirely different reason.

the next time you two are together was when he had to go away for a few days, you were extensively busy coming up with problems to fix the conflict that’s been looming over you. 

it was during nighttime when you had finally walked to your room, plopping onto your bed like a star fish. just as you try to close your eyes, a particular voice made a smile creep up your lips.

“hey,” seonghwa jumps onto the bed, making your body jump slightly. you lift open your eyes and see his face right above yours, a cheeky smile on his pink lips. 

“you’re back,” you mutter lowly, lifting your hands to cup his face. “how was the trip?”

he puckers his lips in a pout, “you’re not going to ask how i am?” he grabs your hand and brings it to his hair, and you start to play with them, he hums happily.

“okay, seonghwa,” you chuckle, “how are you?”

“i missed you,” he mumbles, “a lot.” 

he lowers his face, puckering his lips like a fish. “your smile, your lips, your laugh and you, i missed you baby.”

“i did too,” you shut your eyes, remembering how he would call you whenever he would get the time.  

how he would whine in your ear about wanting to see you already, and you’d ask him to focus on his work saying, “i’m right here hwa, go now, focus on your work.”

he snorts when you get up, ready to change out of your clothes and he spins on his back, leaning on his elbows. 

“you’re.. i get why you don’t express your undying love for me,” he starts, and you hum out a why.

“because you’re tsundere,” he pauses when he watches you unbutton your shirt through the reflection of the mirror, “or at least that’s what the teens there said.”

he watches you chuckle, “you talked about me to the kids there?” nodding he positions himself with his head on the bed frame. 

“they said you were like that, you don’t show your love for me.” you take off your shirt, leaving you in a tank top that makes him lick his lips. 

“oh yeah?” you ask him, quietly turning around. 

“...do you love me?” he asks, and you told your head to the side, a small smile on your face.

his wide eyes bore into yours as you come to sit on the bed, or more so on him, straddling his waist which he welcomed happily. already having his arms around your hips. 

you hold onto his hands, fiddling with his fingers, the one where his band sat. you lift your head to meet his eyes, “i’m not hesitant to show my affection to you, i-i just haven’t felt that way for someone, so this is new to me.”

you caress his hands quietly and he watches you in anticipation, lifting his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

you let out a sigh, and hesitatingly ask. “do you...love me?” 

he smiles slightly, “i do,” he breathes in. 

“a lot,” he continues in his deep voice, “you make me happy.”

he wants to say so much more, that you make him feel giddy, have butterflies erupt in his stomach whenever he’s by you. the stares you give him, the ones full of tease and playfulness that makes him laugh in the most inappropriate places.

how you tap your thighs and spread them, and he’d press his lips into a thin line, trying not to break out into a smirk. or when you back him up to a wall, teach him how to fight by holding his hands or how to work a sword.

but by seeing the look on your face, he knows you know everything he’s thinking. you’ve always been observant, so he knows for a fact that you’re probably reading his mind right now. 

“then you should know my answer,” you say, giving him a smile that makes his heart swell. 

both of you can’t believe that this is where you two ended up, from a loveless marriage to one that’s full of love and affection to the point no one has to stay it verbally. 

“let me hear it then,” he mutters, moving his hands from your hips to intertwine with yours. “say it once in for all.” 

you look down quietly, finding it hard to form the words together. you know you want to say something, but you can’t seem to form them together, instead all you do is stare into his eyes.

he smiles, and in seconds he has you flipped onto the bed. both of you rolling on it with a grunt, you stare into each other’s eyes contently. 

ignoring the surrounding and communicating through your expressions, you look down at his lips and make the move to peck them, moving away slowly and placing your leg over his torso.

he grins at your actions and brings you closer so that your heads resting on his chest, “i didn’t know you were shy too,” he mumbles, and you bite the insides of your cheek. 

hiding your face in his chest, you fist his shirt with your hands. you maybe be all dominant with your personality, but you’re yourself with him. 

he wraps his arm around your shoulders and sighs, tucking your head under his chin. he then remembers something, leaving your hold for a second and searching something in his drawer.

“what’re you looking for?” you ask out of curiosity and all he responds with is a “surprise.”

“actually, meet me tomorrow night at the gazebo you cornered me at.” he says and you nod. 

“if you try to kill m-“

“y/n, no, baby, sleep.” 

you stare at yourself in the mirror, dressed in a white ensemble that was requested by seonghwa for whatever he’s going to do tonight, and you hope it isn’t him killing you. 

you know he’s standing by the gazebo waiting patiently for you, but you can’t help but try and look a bit presentable before walking out towards the gardens. 

hands sweaty, and heart pounding as each and every step you take roots nervousness in your gut.

when you see him standing there with his back faces to you, in an all-black fit, you can’t help but look at him in amuse. the way his larger and built body is shown off by the clothes sticking to him.

shaking your thoughts away, you call out for him. “seonghwa,”

he turns around with a smile, you swallow before walking to him, hands neatly folded behind your back. 

“you came,” he says, snaking an arm around your waist. 

“of course,” you mumble back, letting him hold you. he then points at the corner; your eyes follow his and they immediately widen.

“seonghwa, t-that’s stunning.” your lips part in surprise and he smiles, ushering you forward by the small of your back.

your eyes fall upon the fluffy blanket he has laid on the ground, a small basket near the corner, pillows scattered around the blanket and two bottles of wine. 

“you’re insane,” you mumble quietly, tightening your hold onto his shirt. you hear him chuckle, pulling you to sit by him on the blanket.

your eyes shine when they fall over the water, the atmosphere was weirdly intimate. you two sat by the running water under the moonlight, sitting right by one another in silence.

the air sifted through your hair, playing with it slightly. “do you like it?” he asks, nervousness washing over him.

you nod twice, “i do, oh my god,” you pause. “i do, i love it.” he breaks out into a smile, rubbing a hand over your back.

he grabs you by the waist and settles you in between his legs, your insides flip when your back hits his broad front.  

you lean back and he wraps his arms around you, placing a peck on your temple. you smile and place your hands over his, intertwining them together.

“do you know why i brought you here?” he asks, rocking you side to side.

you shake your head and feel your heart swell at his low voice humming, “there’s something i’ve been wanting to give you,” 

his fingers fiddle yours when you feel him slide the black ring out, you watch him quietly slide it over to your right hand. 

he then reaches behind his back and pulls a velvet box, your smile falters and he uses both his hands to open it in front of you. 

“remember when i went out to ecuador?” he says, “i bought this for you.”

he opens the box fully and your eyes widen, “seonghwa, why?”

your eyes fall upon the stunning ring he shows off to you, it’s a light emerald diamond sitting nearly on a thin silver band. 

he takes your fingers in his and slides it on your ring finger, “i know when we first got married, we didn’t care about one another.”

“in fact, we both didn’t even want the wedding.” he pauses to recollect, “it looked like a fairytale but there were no sincere emotions from us.”

“i wanted to restart it,” he says, squishing his cheek against yours. “so i brought a new one, the one i chose.” 

your eyes fall upon the ring in your hands, “will you marry me, again, this time with all the happiness?” 

you hear his voice falter, and you smile, turning your body around fully. “do i have any choice?” you ask with a sheepish smile when his eyes meet yours.

he chuckles, “well not really because you’re already mine,” and you grin. “but for formality sakes, will you, the y/n, marry me, solidifying our marriage once again?”

you shake your head at his silliness, “of course, you idiot.” you say between giggles.

he then pulls you to his chest and you both fall back unexpectedly, letting out a yelp when falling but he grabs you before you could hit the ground. 

you lay on top of him, his hands firmly resting on your hips. he looks down at you and smirks, brushing your hair back from your face.  

“did you have a good flight?” he teases, and you sit up right on his waist, hands resting on his stomach. 

he raises his eyebrows, poking his tongue against the wall of his cheek. tapping his hands on your hips before bringing them behind his head. 

you then lean front and place a peck on his lips, surprising him. “thank you,” he smiles at that but that smile quickly turns into a groan when you shift on him.

he grips your hips at that, making you swallow when the colour of his eyes darken. “what’re you doing?” he asks, voice airy and strained. 

you look at him in confusion, “nothing?” and he bites his lower lip, sitting up right so now he’s directly in front of you. 

“oh yeah?” he quips, a smirk growing on his lips as he inches closer.

you shift once again and it lets out a low growl, and that’s when you realize what he means because you feel something poke at you.

you suck in a breath and try to get up, but he’s got his hands over you, holding your thighs. you feel his stare searching your face and then landing on your lips, and then a little lower.

he finds himself staring at the strap of your dress that’s fallen down, he swallows he sees that you aren’t wearing a bra and that he can see the trace of your boob and the hardened nipples poking through the material.  

“i-it’s cold,” you whisper, feeling his stare. he lifts his hand up to play with the strap, fiddling with it before he tugs it down.

he does the same to the other strap, fiddling with it and the tugging it down. enough so that he can see the top your breasts and he looks at you, your eyes already onto his.

his fingers graze them through the dress, and he lowers his mouth to place a soft kiss, you hiss at the way he licks at the skin right after.

his large hands come to grab your breasts, softly squeezing them and your thighs twitch. making the man grit his jaw, when you move your dress rides up and it leaves him to little to no imagination.

he brushes his lips over your neck, and you shiver, he bunches your hair to the side and attaches his lips right under your ear.

you whine when he pokes his tongue out, the mood changing from all nice and fluffy one to a one that’s full of desire.

“seonghwa,” you let out shakily, he hums.

“let me take care of you too,” you wrap and arm around his shoulder, lowering him to the ground and bringing your hand to his crotch.

he says something incoherent and then proceeds to unbuckle his pants, you help him lower them before quirking an eyebrow at him.

“now who’s in a hurry?” you say, tracing his waistband that makes him twitch.

you chuckle and bring his briefs down, running a hand down his cock. he twitches when you do so, eyes shutting and eyebrows meeting.

you then take your own panties off and take a hold of his wet cock in your hands; he groans and grunts at the pressure and rolls his eyes back when he feels you sink down him slowly. 

you hang open your mouth at the silent cry of pleasure, hands landing beside his face to support your body and his hands landed in your ass, moving slowly around him. 

your lips brushed against his neck and you sat straight, hands on his toned stomach as you moved up and down, your breasts bouncing with the impact and seonghwa gets a hold on your breasts, tweaking and rolling them. 

you moan breathily as your legs shuddered at the immense amount of pleasure coming over you in a short time. hearing his cry for you name has you going faster, “y/n- fuck.” 

you hum before leaning over to place your lips over his, muffling his own moans. his hands bring down your dress to your waist as you kept on getting him to a new high.

“i-i’m close,” he responds, voice strained, and you moaned at the sensation and it only makes you go faster, and he eventually comes inside you. 

you pull yourself out of him and plop your sweat lined body next to his, chests heaving up and down as the two of you breathed out loudly. 

“let me help you now baby,” he turns to hover over you, bunching your dress to your waist and you let out a whine of his name.

he brings his cock and lines it down your wet folds, he enters in slowly and you hear the wetness at the friction.

he holds your arms beside your head and rolls his hips into yours, “h-hwa, what if someone c-comes!”

he smirks, “let them baby, let ‘em see us.” he groans, thrusting into you as you moaned out his name as quietly as you could.

“louder y/n,” he demands, “let them hear.”

and as if on time, he does a particular thrust that made you cry his name out loud. his hair falls over his eyes, ticking over your forehead slightly. 

he watches your face contorting to the pleasure, and it riles him to go faster, grunting and grinding to you. loving the way, you say his name and the way it rolls of your tongue with a hint of airiness at the end.

you eyes roll back and your back arches to his, grinding at his own pace before falling back and letting him take control. 

“who’s are you?” he growls, and you wail your head to the side, responding with yours to which he says, “that’s my good girl.” 

before he stops, breathing heavily and pulling it out of you. slumping on you and then braking you to his chest, “i love you.” he says and you nod against his chest.

“me too,” he snorts and then smacks your ass at the answer you gave.

“general, what’s the deal at the border?” you hear yunho ask, mingi standing by him.

“i, i think someone’s scheming something against us.” you look up from the number of files, “check at the soldiers who patrol the border, see anything suspicious and immediately report that to me.”

“why?” jongho buts in, and you rub your temples.

“because,” you pause, and they all stare at you in anticipation.

“we might be going at war.” 

“shit.” wooyoung speaks from the back, “san isn’t back eros yet, the situation there is worse but if we had him, and even if there’s a war, if san was here, we would win no matter what.”

“well yeah, he is a literal demon reincarnated.” hongjoong snorts and you laugh, “but, me and yunho will go look over at the border.” 

“i’ll look over at the hidden entrances of eden,” mingi exclaims, “might find something there.”

“wooyoung, help me by finding out just who the enemy could be with you connections.” your remark and he offers a salute from the couch.  

“and please,” you stop wooyoung, “don’t go seducing someone.”

jongho snorts at you, “says that one who does it everywhere.”

you throw a paper weight at the man, picking your tongue out. “ew please, i hear it sometimes too.”

“go away!” you yell, cheeks warming up. “you’re dismissed!” 

“sheesh,” mingi says and you glare at him, watching all of them hurry out. 

just as they leave, you hear them whistle in the hallways and then the door opens. revealing a smiling seonghwa, eyed wide and cheeks puffed.

you clear your throat and stand up, “h-hey,” 

he walks to you with a smile and wraps his arm around you, “hey baby, look!” his wide eyes bore into yours, showing the bouquet of red flowers. “for you milady.”

you laugh at him, squishing his cheeks before walking behind your desk. 

“ah,” he starts, “i might have to leave for a trip soon, something with a few kingdoms needing help.”

you nod, “alone?”

he nods, pressing his lips into a thin line. “dad might want me to take the guys, jongho would be staying if that what you’re asking.”

he comes to lean on your desk, “when will you be leaving?”

“tomorrow morning,”

“for how long?”

he sighs, “i don’t know.” 

you pause, watching his face turn into a frown. you reach forward to take his hands into yours, rubbing your thumbs over his skin.

“i’ll wait, go do your duties.” you say, “our future king.” 

he snorts and you smile, “i’ll be back super quick, i promise.” he extends his pinky at you, shaking your head you joined them anyways.

he grins and his eyes turn into crescents, he decides to spend the entire day with you. eating your favourite dishes, then playing nonsensical jokes, him helping you with half your work also the only time you two were serious.

he’d constantly keep having his hands somewhere on you, to which you at first would shove it away, but now you’re more lenient. 

and so when the day ended, you were left with the sentence he kept repeating over and over again. 

“i’ll be back soon, wait for me.” 

when seonghwa left for a trip, you expected it to be short and sweet. it was supposed to be short, but then it quickly escalated to one week, to two weeks and now to five extra weeks. 

you hadn’t seen the man in almost one and a half month, except only hearing his voice through the telephone in your office and the bedroom. 

it’s as if he went back to the navy again, but in reality, he was off to visit the kingdom’s outside empire. 

the ones who had fallen because of the low economic growth and high unemployment rates, to take care of that, the heirs of each kingdom had been sent off for aid.

leaving only, you and jongho in the palace, teaching the new trainees the basic skills. which was mostly resulting in jongho bossing them over until you came in and told jongho to stop bossing them around.

you had taken over the responsibility to fill in for seonghwa’s position as an heir in eden as well. doing his work while conversing with him over the phone as he instructs you on what to do and what not too.

along with that, you were barely leaving your office. sometimes even spending the nights in there, sleeping on the couch because your room felt too lonely. 

the warm interior of your office gave you the warmth that was similar to seonghwa’s, the work had been piling up for you to sign and read every time you would wake up. 

and it had been like this for an entire month, you working, waking up early for your training sessions, eating, getting into the palace work, reading documents sent in by the king, switching to go watch over the soldiers outside, then eat, look over a few files before eventually passing out on your chair.

resulting in you waking up with a neck cramp, but hey, at least you got majority of the work done.  

when you finally sit down on the couch for the first time today, it doesn’t last long as jongho enters the room with a tray of tea and food. 

“for you,” he says, placing the test on the table beside you before walking out to his own room.

“thanks, ho.” you tell him, a hand reaching to grab the tea to which you gasped quietly after tasting. 

you lean back on your chair, eyeing the room until your eyes land on the telephone and immediately a smile creeps up your lips and you reach out for it. 

your fingers trace the phone softly until punching in the numbers, the number that he calls you from. 

you bring it your ear and wait for the bell to go, to hear seonghwa’s deep voice that made you curl your toes. hear him greet you happily even though you know he’s dead tired, but when you got no response from the other side you placed the phone down and got up. 

grabbing a few papers before leaning you front on the table, reading them through while munching on the treats jongho brought.

but that doesn’t last long, because only five minutes later you hear the door crack open and a pair of arms snaking your waist. 

you fall back because you immediately who it is, the expensive scent all too familiar to your nose. 

“hey baby,” 

you hear his low voice rumble in your ear, “hi, seonghwa.” 

he wraps around your waist tightens and he buries his face in your neck, sending a tingly feeling all over your body that you’ve missed. 

“how are you? tired?” he nods against your neck and you reach back to ruffle his hair a little. 

“never tired for you,” he places a peck on your neck and spins you around by your waist. 

when your eyes meet his, the speed of your heart doubles. he’s standing there with a shit eating grin on his face that you’ve come to love, black hair carefully pushed back and a smile that has your insides flipping.

he takes the papers from your hand and chucks them away, your wide eyes flickering to them as you try and grab them, but he beats you to it.

instead, he grabs your arms and places then around his neck, jerking you closer. “you must be tired, let’s go to bed.” you whisper out, but he shakes his head, eyes falling down in your lips.

he towers over you completely, he looks down at you with softness and yet playfulness that shoots you warm ness to your face, feeling a thick tension building in the air as you stare at each other.

“i missed you,” you nod shakily, inhaling sharply when he brings his hand to tuck your hair behind.

“i-i did too,” you stutter out when he pushes his weight on you, and you let out the smallest of whines that as him clenching his jaw. 

his minty breath tickles over your lips, “hm?” he asks, tilting his head tauntingly. 

you don’t hold back the breathy exhale when he swiped his thumb over your lower lip, you stare at him while his eyes are over your lips.

“did you know how much i missed you?” his other hand lowering the band of your pants, “can i show you how much i missed you, hm? what i would think about doing when you weren’t by me? when i couldn’t fall asleep and missed you?”

your breathing wavers and you unbuttons your pants, “did you know how many times i had to get off at the thought of my pretty little baby?” 

“seonghwa,” you say, voice coming out airy and strained when he brings his other hand down to push down your pants slowly, revealing you to the cold. 

he hums, dipping his head to your neck and you suck in a breath. “you know much i wanted to touch you but i couldn’t?” 

the atmosphere darkens with every bit of list and desire, his eyes are dark and intense as he stares at you biting your lip.

he places a soft peck under your ear, and you hold onto his forearm, “how much i wanted to hear your pretty voices crying my name?” 

you could only let out a moan at his words, desperate and whiney that has him smirking. “tell me you thought of me,” he grips on your waist, slowly running a hand down your leg.

“i did,” you inhale sharply when he wraps your leg around his torso. “i missed you so much, you had no idea.” 

there’s a strong feeling of arousal pooling in between your kegs and you can’t help but stare at him. 

he holds back a groan of his own and it takes him a second to push your arms back and slam his lips over yours. a moan escapes you when you finally feel his lips after days of nothing.

the way your lips mould together like puzzles, so desperate and so whiny. it’s the way your lips smash against one another, battling not for dominance but for the feeling you two have missed.

the sound of teeth clashing, lips smacking and small mewls and moans echo the room. seonghwa grips onto your hips firmly, planting you on your desk. you let out a noise of surprise and he grins against your lips.

softly yet rhythmically moving together, never letting the other part away even a moment. your arms reaching up behind his neck and deepening the kiss, lips moving in sync with each other, groaning softly when he bites on your lip and you tug on his dark locks. 

you have to push him away to breathe out loud, chest heaving up and down and he rests his forehead on yours.

“god, i missed you so much,” he whines, pressing his lips on your neck. trailing down to your collarbone while placing open mouthed kisses all long.

he grabs onto your shirt, and slowly starts to unbutton it, while you find yourself staring at his lips. pecking them every now and then until you hear him moan when his eyes land on your breasts.

you bite your lips, probably hard enough to draw blood when he licks his lips and cups your breasts. growling at the softness and the fact that you were braless, his large hands squish your skin and you through your head back.

he swallows and kneads and pinches with both his hands and you let out his name like a mantra, “you’re stunning,” he whispers before lowering his lips to mould on your breast.

while he sucks and circles his tongue relentlessly on your boob, his other hand tweaks and rolls your hardened and sensitive nipples. 

eliciting cries for his name, “h-hwa-“ you moan out when he delivers a harsh suck on your skin, pulling away with a pop. 

a wave of heat forms in your panties that has you grinding on table, his lips are onto your boobs, placing soft feathery yet ticklish kisses all over. he growls out how much of a pretty baby you’ve been as he continues his sweet torture.

when he feels you grind against him, he throws his head back. watching your face through his hooded eyes, how your mouth hung open and how quickly you bit down on your lip.

your eyebrows crossing as your eyes shut tight, his hands then trail down to your stomach, massaging it softly before caressing his fingers over your clothed clit.

“seonghwa,” you whine, feeling wetness starting to firm in your pants. 

you shake when he growls, hands reaching for his shirt and throwing it away, your fingers grazing down his toned body while he plays with the band of your black panties.

he lets out a noise from the back of his throat when you lick a stripe down his neck, slowly and feverishly. 

“i need you,” he grits, “right now baby, right now.” 

it takes him a second to push you back on the desk, bribing your pants down leaving you only in your panties as you leaned up on your elbows.

he traces his fingers slowly over your panties and when he feels the wetness, he lets out a groan of your name. “y/n...” 

and you nod at that, letting him slowly drag your underwear down to your ankles.

“fuck, baby.” he lets out a whine when he wyes your wetness, “i wanna fuck you so bad,” you fail to not let out a pathetic whine.

he trails a finger down your folds, and you shake, “i want to feel you, make you cry and moan my name out again and again and then fill you up with me, all of me.”

you let out a broken whimper when he kneels down, his hot breath fanning your inner thighs before it reaches you wet folds.  

he places soft kisses and long licks where he twirls his tongue on your inner thighs before he slips in his finger and presses his mouth onto your clit.

his hot mouth breathing against already wet and aching cunt, “seonghwa...” you whimpered pathetically, clutching the table as he licked a strip down your folds making you shudder underneath him. 

you let out a loud cry of his name when he does so, feeling him pump his finger in and out so slowly at your legs start to weaken.

it feels like it’s been forever since you’ve felt him, and he feels the same because he eats you out like he’s been starving. his long tongue circles and sucks on the bundle of nerves while you let out strangled moans that has his cock hardening in his pants. 

“so pretty,” he says before diving his tongue in making you let out a moan for his name as he moved in and out of you skillfully. alternating from long slow licks to small circles with his fingers to his tongue lapping sinfully against your clit until he's had his fingers easily sliding in and out of you.

you arch your back to his fingers and you feel the immense coil of heat starting to become unbearable, you lips moan out a “seonghwa,” which he hums in response against your pussy, and you feel the vibrations.

“i-“ 

“come, come on me.” he says and almost immediately you find yourself coming off the high, he’s quick with his tongue and licks out every juice that comes out you.

you fall back on the desk, breathing out heavily and shutting your eyes. seonghwa stands up and you hear the unbuckling of his pants and you can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“you’re so needy,” you mock him, rising up to grab the back of his neck and bringing your lips to his.

he gets rid of his pants and briefs; you wrap your legs around his waist and he groans at his own sensitivity. you smile against his soft and now swollen lips, tasting yourself faintly on his tongue. 

he holds onto your waist, squeezing it slightly. “desk or couch,” he asks in-between the kiss, and you whisper out a couch.

and he immediately picks you up, your naked bodies grazing again one another, emitting warmth that contrasted with the otherwise chilly room.

you giggle once he lays you on the couch and finds himself chuckling, “why are you like this,” asking about how you’re laughing at him being serious.

“because,” you reach to cup his cheeks, “it’s you.” 

he smiles, the one with dimples. and moves his lips to your neck, you close your eyes and let him roam around. 

his lips brush against the shell of your ear and you shiver when his deep and gruff voice fills them. “let me fill you up y/n,” he pleads, and your heart rate accelerates.

“fill you up,” he brushes his lips against your cheeks, “fill you up so good, all of me, hm?”

he lowers his voice, “let me fuck you so bad, so you’re crying my name out. i want everyone to know how good i make you feel,” 

you nod and reach for his cock, that’s not already dripping with pearls of pre cum over his pink tip. you whine at the vision and pushes you back, pumping a hand down his length he settles between your thighs.

“fuck me seonghwa,” you say and his eyes darken, “fill me up, with you, only y-“

your next sentences are muffled into cries when he lines his cock against your clit, teasing the tip up and down before entering you inch by inch. 

feeling yourself stretch out at his thick length, he pounds into you at a fast speed as if he’s never done before, your body moving against the bed as he grunts and groans and grinds himself into you.

your head falls back, mouth hung open as he starts to roll his hips into yours and you let out a cry that could only be described as borderline pornographic. 

“seonghwa- you feel so- so good.” you let out as he continues to go at different speeds, the room filling with his own loud moans.

“f-fuck,” your eyes roll back when he hits that certain spot in you, again and again, you let out a cry, throwing your head back on the pillow while releasing moans and whimpers of his name in pleasure. 

he drops his head down to your shoulder, burying his face into your neck. “i’m so close baby, hold on for me hm?” you wrap and arm around his shoulder, throwing your own head back at the pleasure.

he whines and groans into you when he feels you clench around him and he pounds into you again, fast and hard and deep and you let a tiny, pleasurable moan as the heat in you becomes unbearable and you came once again. 

“i-i’m close,” he responds only seconds later, voice strained, and you moaned at the sensation and it only makes him go faster and he eventually comes inside you.

he pulls out you carefully, watching you wince at the sensitivity. sweat lines both your bodies and he slumps down on you, wrapping his arms around you. 

he pecks your forehead, nose and then he’s about to place on your lips that the two of you roll off the couch and right onto the floor. 

you both fall into fits of laughter and he pulls you close to him, sighing happily when he turns to you. pointer finger poking your cheek and you open your eyes, staring at him with a playful glint.

you two pause and then burst out laughing, the room echoing with your happiness. he bites at your ear and you squeal, slapping his chest.

when he rolls off of you and slides to your side, both of you lay in the middle of the room, naked. hair spread on the carpet below, sighing and humming happily.

“are we planning to-“

“i love you.”

you bite the insides of your cheek, looking the opposite way when you feel his stare on you. he leans up hurriedly and hovers his face over yours, you shyly avoid his face until he holds into your jaw softly.

“w-what did you say?” he asks, eyes wide and sparkly, “say it again.” 

when you stare at him intently and don’t say anything, he taps your cheek. “say it again y/n, you have no idea how much i’ve been dying to hear those words.”

you smile playful, bringing your hands to his cheeks. “i said i love you, silly.”

he tries to smile, “say it again,” 

“i love you,” you tilt your head, and the glint in his eyes switch.

“again,” he lowers himself.

“i love you.”

“one more time,” 

“i love you.”

“jus-“

“i take it ba-“ 

he doesn’t let you finish your sentence, his lips slam onto yours. “don’t, don’t ever take it back.” 

“understand?” he asks, and you nod.

“understood sir.” you grin, and he laughs.

“i’ll make you happy, i swear.” he mumbles as he hides his face in your hair, you smile and shut your eyes. 

“and i’ll protect you, i swear.”

you run down to your room, leaving the meeting about the war. the war that at this point was confirmed, yunho and hongjoong had found a loophole when they visited the border. 

only confirming every suspicion, you had, the enemy wasn’t in any of the eight kingdoms. but instead, outside from those kingdoms who seonghwa had gone to help at his last trip a few months ago. 

from wooyoung’s special sources, he’s found out exactly when they will attack. exactly two days from now.

it felt like a betrayal, but you knew something else was up but that’s not what you were thinking about right now. 

instead, a bigger thing was on your mind. 

you walk out the bathroom, one hand on your stomach and the other running through your hair. 

“yeosang,” you squeak, “are you a hundred percent sure?” 

both you and yeosang decided to talk in private, him joining you as you ran out the meeting. which only confirmed his suspicions over your habits these days, he’s leaning on the wall opposite of yours. 

hands crossed over his chest while a small smile plays on his lips, he nods slowly, and you shut your eyes.

“you’re feeling it aren’t you?” he muses, he runs a hand through his blond locks and a smile creeps up his lips. 

your mouth drops and you could feel you heart hammering against your rib cage, swallowing you look up to him walking towards you.

“yeosang, we’re at a war,” you realize, “t-this can’t be happening right now, i have to go fight in the war in two days and i can’t do it like this!” 

your outburst is understandable, yeosang not only sympathizes with you but also is excited about how a new change will affect both you and seonghwa.

“y/n, i know-“ he pauses, “you should tell seonghwa.” 

you sit down on your bed and yeosang exits the room, a sigh slips down your lips and you fall back onto the bed. your hair falling prettily around you, slowly you trail your hand over your stomach and bite your lip.

you smile but it fades away quickly, the threat of enemies attacking the kingdom any time in the coming two days scares you. but this time it scares you for a different reason and you’re angry, frustrated and irritated even because the timing of everything wasn’t right. 

you shot up from your bed and started to march down the hallway, ignoring the guards who immediately shoot a salute as you ran down the hall.

once you reached seonghwa’s office, you burst open the door and the man inside flinches, dropping his files. 

his wide eyes soften when they land on you. “oh, bab-“

“you!” your finger points at him and he raises his eyebrows as you walk towards him, backing him up to the wall behind, his hands coming up by his head. 

you grab his collars, “you, you! you finally got what you’ve been trying to do.” 

he tilts his head, eyes confused. “and that is?”

“i’m pregnant and y-“

“you what,”

you pause, your shoulders dropping. his face drops and you swallow, “are yo-“

“i knew it!” he interrupts, yelling and then he cups your face, he’s got the biggest smile, his pearly whites show, and he smiles so big it almost eyes are hidden.

he presses his lips against yours, again and again. wrapping his arms around you he lifts you and twirls you around, “p-put me down!” 

“oh my god, oh my god, we’ll be parents oh god.” he whispers, placing his forehead on yours. “i love you so much, you have no idea.” 

he keeps pressing his lips onto yours repeatedly, you can feel him smile against them as he whispers i love you’s in between. 

you cup his face and force him to look at you, the pad of your thumb rubs near his eyes, wiping away the tears pooling around his eyes. 

“how long?” he asks.

“one and a half months.” 

he’s got a pout on his face and his eyebrows are almost touching, something you’ve noticed he does whenever he’s about to cry.

“why are you crying?” you ask, and he cups your hands with his, pecking your hands. 

“you just gave me the biggest gift of my entire life, how can i not cry?” he mumbles against your hands, eyes pouring out fat tears and he sniffles. you laugh at his words and pull him into a hug.

he immediately wraps his around your waist, burying his face in your neck deeper, he places soft kisses over your shoulder. you giggle and wrap your hands around him tighter, you could feel his rapid heartbeat syncing with yours.

he kneels down and taps your stomach with wide eyes, once you pull back though, your face falls and he notices right away. “seonghwa, what about the war?” 

he visibly stiffens and grips on your waist, “no, no, no!” he whispers, “you’re not going out there to fight.” 

“seonghwa,” you grasp his hands, “i have to fulfil my duty, i-i’ll put extra shields around myself so no-“

“your duty is our kid growing in your stomach,” he interrupts, moving his hand to your stomach.

you sigh, “i have to follow through my orders with the soldiers! after all, we’re fighting for your land.”

“my title or my status or land doesn’t mean a god damn thing if the only thing i’ve ever wanted would be taken away from me.” this time he holds onto your shoulders and shakes you slightly.

you shake your head, “seonghwa, i know, but my job is to protect you and everyone who lives under eden.”

he leans closer, “i’ve vowed to protect you y/n, twice, and now with our kids,” he spared a glance at your stomach. “we’ll go to war, i’ll run it.”

“seonghwa you can’t, you have no experience in what i’m in.” you pause, “granted you were in the navy, but this, this is different hwa.” 

his eyes soften at the use of his name that you only ever called in more intimate moments, “i don’t care baby, if it means you two would be safe, i’ll go.” his intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“besides,” he dramatically flips his hair, “at least i can win sword fights.” 

“hwa,”

“trust me.” 

you stare at him in worry, considering what you had found out just last night. but when he pouts, you chuckle at him and he pulls you into his embrace, “fine,” you sigh, “you can go, but only on one condition.” 

he smiles and caresses your hair, “and that is?”

“i need the father of our baby to be alive,” you bury further in his chest, “if you die, i will go find you and then kill you myself.”

he laughs and you feel his chest vibrate, “only the father of our child? what about your husband?” he teases, and you lightly smack his back. 

“i want both of them back.” 

seonghwa had been going around, yelling and screaming loudly to everyone in the palace that you were pregnant. you had to hide your face behind him as he told away with a big smile on his face, his parents were all ecstatic and immediately showered you with presents and blessings.

“you’re really excited, huh?” you grin, fixing the blanket of your bed. glancing swiftly at seonghwa sitting on the couch in his night wear, supporting a book in his hand.

“you have no idea,” you stop and lean on the bed frame, your eyes go over his face and smile. 

he sees you staring and puts his book to the table beside him, he spreads his thighs wide, tilts his head and then pats his thighs at you. 

wiggling his eyebrows at you, “your throne, my queen.” and then pats his thighs again, you snort out loud and walk to your side of the bed.

he joins with a pout quickly and sits beside you, a hand around your shoulder, he presses his lips against your temple. 

you sigh and lean onto him more, eyes closing slowly. his hand caresses your shoulder while his lips maintain near your face. 

“do you think we would have a boy or a girl,” you mumble against him, and he brings his hand over to your hair. 

“it doesn’t matter,” he says, and you nod with a smile, “but, i do hope whoever is in there is a boy.” 

you open your eyes at that and tilt your chin up, “and what if it’s a girl?”

he smiles, “if it’s a girl, i don’t think i would have the heart to marry her away.” your heart swells at his words, he pulls you into a hug and stays like that until your eyes start to fall heavy.

“i love you,” 

he whispers and when you don’t respond, he assumes you’ve fallen asleep. smiling he gets himself comfortable around you and closes his eyes. 

“i know.” 

the next two days were intense, even the word intense was an understatement. everyone in the palace had been moving around every day, from the workers in the palace and those in the kingdom. all and every soldier available and those who had retired were in the field practicing.

you could hear the swords clashing against one another, grunts and groans of soldiers as they battled each other. every field was packed with men, the archery field, the open grounds and even the main property of the palace. 

you’re walking around and guarding the rest, helping them here and there while teaching them how to do the right thing. 

seonghwa and you had been monitoring everything, last two nights and days were spent in your office. planning out everything that would lead to eden winning, rearranging soldiers at different points around the battlefield, cannons, bombs and even artillery were numbered.

both of you wanted the least damage and had even sent a letter to the rivalry group for a better understanding to mend things out, but once they denied and initiated war by killing a few of your men. 

both of you had no choice but to run the war, everything had to be perfect, for the kingdom and for you three. 

and now, all of you stand together in lines. seonghwa stands left of you while yunho stands to the right, both his parents are standing at the balcony a level above.

“i know this is hard everyone,” seonghwa starts, “your general won’t be able to join you in this, so i’ll be taking the position.” 

you step forward, collectively gathering their attention. “i want every single one of you back,” you say, eye glancing to every corner. 

“if one of you is missing,” you pause, “i’ll come to the field myself and find you, and then i’ll kill you.” 

a roar of laugh echoes the grounds, and it lessens the weight on you, as the rest get busy you turn to your battalion. 

“you all better come back, be careful and use your mind.” you tell them, and they respond with a smile, “and you,” you turn to seonghwa who raises his eyebrows.

“don’t go overboard! don’t do useless things-“

“i won’t!” he whines.

“i know you will,” you sigh and he chuckled before coming to place his hands around your neck, “remember how at south there will be people there, list-“

“i know, mom.” he says and leans down to press his lips onto yours, you hear the low ‘ooh’s’ of the crowd and pull back. 

“i’ll be right back, wait for me okay?” he says with a grin and you manage to smile back, he then nods at everyone else who start to make their way out the palace grounds. 

you watch them leave the grounds and you swallow thickly, instinctively placing a hand on your stomach. a sickening feeling starting to loom over you, and you turn around to yeosang standing there.

he nods at you and the two of you walk to his quarters, “are you sure?” he asks, handing you your armour that you wear on top of your clothes. “i don’t want you to go there and potentially hurt yourself knowing you’re pregnant.” 

“we have no choice yeo, you know what your patient said yesterday.”

last night, yeosang burst through your office doors, yanking your arm and dragging you to his office without even getting the chance to say hi.

“yeosang, w-what’s going on?” you ask the man holding your wrist, stepping in his room only to see a patient bandaged over his legs, arms and head.

you glance at yeosang in confusion, asking him to explain why exactly he brought you here especially when there’s someone he’s tending to.

before yeosang gets the chance respond, the man in front immediately stands up, hissing and then bowing. 

“gener- your highness,” his low and gritty voice goes onto introduce himself, “i can’t reveal my name, but i have to tell you something.”

you exchange glances with yeosang who nods, ushering you to a chair, and he comes to stand behind you. 

“what happened to you?” you ask out of worry, eyeing the white bandages over him.

“dorado,” the man says, “dorado is after you.”

you place the chained veil around your waist, securing it by placing your armour on top. “i am sure, and as for that, it’ll be alright.”

“he’ll be mad,” he mutters while tightening the chain around your forearms. “very mad.”

you pause to look at him, “i know how to protect myself yeo... and as for seonghwa, it’ll be okay, he won’t even know i’m there.” 

he gives you a look that you respond with a grin, he breaks into a chuckle and pats your shoulders. 

“then i’m coming with,” he says, grabbing his own artillery from under his desk. surprising you, you would’ve never thought the doctor would have weapons with him too.

“i knew you were a sadist.” you laugh before the two of you walk out, hiding away from the guards and your parents.

“mingi i swear to god! stop screaming every two seconds!” san yells through the thick air, slashing his sword the through the wind. 

“i can’t help it, he fucking stabbed me! twice!” mingi yells back, riding his horse as he cuts through the enemies with ease.

the rest are fighting with their own group of people who seem to be attacking the face, “god, why do you all go after the faces!” wooyoung yells, kicking the other in the stomach before twisting his arm. 

“where’s seonghwa?” hongjoong cries out, clutching his bleeding arm while fighting. 

“ayo, park seongh- oh my god he’s got a whole army on him, no wonder, they all hate him!” 

seonghwa stands between the men crowding him in a circle, he grips on his sword tightly and smirks. raising his hand to motion them to come forward, as if taunting them with his fingers. 

the men groan out loudly and launch themselves at him, seonghwa successfully dodges all the punches thrown at him except the one that landed on his chest, making him stumble back. 

the barbaric man grabs seonghwa’s collars and yanks him to the floor, seonghwa grabs his sword and shoves it down the man’s chest all the way through. the man freezes and sees the duke smirk at him before throwing his now dead body off him.

men throw himself at seonghwa one by one and he fights his best, getting a few splotches of blood on his face while his arms bleed through his running wounds. 

a man from behind comes over to attack seonghwa, his breathing so loud and raspy yet still faded into the chaos of the war. he grips his sword and raises it above his head ready to cut through seonghwa’s body.

“hey,” a voice yells and the man freezes, seonghwa keeps on putting his attention on those who attack him. 

“that’s my husband you’re trying to kill.” before the man can even turn around, a sword slides through his entire neck and his blood splatters through air to the ground.

“general!” 

san’s voice cries at you, you’re surprised he’s back. you hadn’t seen him ever since he went back, but you notice he looks much better and throw him a smirk.

he notices you sitting on your horse dressed in your armour and a sword in hand, looking all majestic and a smirk forms over his lips and suddenly the rage to fight increases. you shake your head at him, mouthing to not mention you, and as if you were his fuel to his fire, he lunges at the attackers. 

with a snort, you pull on the two ropes coming from the horses’ head and rode through the battlefield with your sword in hand.

the wind streamed by you, whipping your hair back to show the eyes, dark and brooding and raging. those you sped past widen their eyes in fear as they start to run, your sword plays with the air, as the cloth decorating your horse flies. 

it’s almost a haunting image, you on the white horse while blood drips down the sword you’re holding. your eyes are turned into slits, jaw clenched, and your rank insignia shines intimidatingly under the gloomy day. 

you spot yunho and hongjoong from a far and wave at him. they stop to look at you for a quick second before making their way towards you, their jaws clenched and face bloodied. the three of you were known as a trio that worked together on the battlefield and made sure the kingdom won, you nod at them and they immediately know what to do.

“general, be safe.” you nod and begin to ride down the grounds. 

yunho goes out in the south, calling for the cannons to be released. hongjoong goes to the frontline with his men as they handle the ones there, you stay in the middle, eliminating any enemy who dare attack you. 

at some point in the battle, you go off your horse. dangerous for the condition you were in, but you managed to wipe off any men who attacked you, swinging your leg in their faces. 

those who attacked you from behind, you grabbed their forearms and and yank them forward with the strength you had. 

the wind blew in your face, a thin layer of sweat coating your face and your body under all the armour. your hair stuck to your forehead as you walked the grounds, dragging your sword behind you. 

the noise it created, tickled the ears of those passing by who immediately ran off. every step you took on the now bloody sand, dripped with the blood of those you fought with. 

your armour dripped blood; your sword poured the red liquid as you dragged it across the field. your face on the other hand, had a big splashes of blood, maybe even yours along with your rival enemies. 

it feels like it’s been hours since the battle started, hongjoong had managed to bring down the front lines while yunho had successfully attacked with cannons. the rest had been taking care of the ones in the middle, including you. 

now all you had to do was escape, so that seonghwa wouldn’t see you. 

which would be impossible considering he’s standing just meters away from you, if you had to escape, you had to do it quick. 

luckily, yeosang sees you and the two of you make your way back hurriedly. both of you laugh as you run away from them successfully before finally reaching the palace grounds. 

“i’ll meet you at your quarters, clean up good.” yeosang says and you immediately speed off to your room, hurriedly grabbing your towel, incense and fresh clothes to change into.

picking up anything suspicious, the two of you take showers in a record time. which was impossibly fast considering the blood on you two, and the time it took for you to drain it all out to finally being able to walk out all dressed like before. 

once you’re done, yeosang walks in and both your eyes widen. “fuck! the floor!” you two yell and instantly look for something to get the blood off the floor. 

yeosang brings in a bucket of water which spills halfway through and so he has to go for a round two, and you grabbed a random shirt to wipe the floor. the two of you used water and literally anything to get it off as you two panicked. 

not only were you two shaking but laughing at the misery you were in, but once the panic slowly calmed down. you both sighed in relief, sitting on the ground as you piled up the cloths for laundry. 

“take rest,” he exhaled, “i’m sure you’re devastatingly tired.” 

“thank you yeosang, really.” you reach over to pat his shoulders.

“now just, get ready for our very own duke.” he laughs, and you join him, shaking your head at the consequences you’re about to experience.

you heard the horns go off in distance not a few hours later, “they’re here, we’ve won.” you grin widely and walk out the room, yeosang following suit.

the second you walk out, it’s quite literally a mess. more than a few of your soldiers are injured, some getting carried to hospital beds. yeosang spares you a quick look and you nod, he runs down the hall, no longer was he yeosang but a doctor on duty.

you step down to help a few of the men yourself, you applaud and thank them for staying alive. when you’re helping a particular one though, he stops you and looks at you in confusion.

“general, aren’t you going to go to his highness?” you furrow your eyebrows, “he’s injured.” 

your eyes immediately widen, “h-he’s what?” you whip your head to the entrance as a group of men stride in on horses. 

you run, eyes searching for the one man you’re looking for. “mingi, where’s seonghwa?” you ask, your voice desperate, scared and panicky.

“he’s coming,” he smiles through the blood on his face, “don’t worry y/n, he put up a great fight.”

the worry on your face shows, your heartbeat hammering against your rib cage as your eyes wandered everywhere to meet seonghwa’s. 

and when they do, you slump down in relief. eyebrows almost meeting each other while your eyes water slightly, his face is cleaned off, but you could still see the smears of blood. 

his black hair is a mess, sticking to his forehead. he was head to toe sprinkled with blood as he rode on his horse, when his eyes meet yours, he immediately smiles. 

“i told you i’d come back.” 

you walk towards him slowly and he jumps down to take your hands in his, “where are you injured?” your eyes go over all his body, turning him around back and forth and he laughs.

you smack his shoulder, and he immediately hisses, his hands clench his shoulders, and you mumble out a sorry. he groans dramatically and you this time, slap his chest. 

“stop scaring me,” you hold his hand tighter, “let’s go, i’ll clean you up.” 

“hmm,” he grins, “you’ll clean me up?” and wiggles his eyebrows, your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

you’re so used to his nature and yet it still brings butterflies to your stomach, wrapping your arm around his waist you guide him towards yeosang’s private office. 

while you’re walking there, seonghwa talks about what he did on the field, and as if you weren’t there to see it all, you nod and praise him at what he tells you. 

“now don’t move,” you sit him down, “and let me clean your wounds, grab my hand if it hurts, okay?” you tell him gently and he nods.

you reach down to take strip his upper half down, which wasn’t easy considering he would mutter sexual innuendos and how he’d hiss in pain.

you grab a big cotton swab and drench it the antiseptic, bringing it up to his shoulder. you frowned at the large cut on his skin, his eyes staring at you intently as you catered his wound. 

ignoring him making kissing faces, weird faces and him blowing air to your face. or how is fingers play with your shirt, how his hand wraps around you, how he hides his pain by burying his face in your stomach. sometimes mumbling something to the baby inside. 

you chant sweet nothings to him while he bites down on his lips, once you’re done stitching his wound you wrap a white bandage around his shoulder. 

he finds playing with your hair as you patch him up, “y/n.” he mumbles. 

you hum in response, hands still fixing the bandage. “why’s there blood on your neck,” 

you freeze visibly, “o-oh it must be yours, must’ve been from when we walked here.” 

he stays quiet and raises his fingers to bring over your neck, you feel them hover a bit before he lowers them down to your neck. you shut your eyes and breath shakily when the blood coming from an unknown wound touches his fingers. 

“what is this,” he whispers, “why are you bleeding, y/n.” 

when you don’t respond, you feel his eyes on your face. “look at me.” your shiver at his tone, so low and deep that it cut through the tension. 

when you do look at him, you’re sure your eyes look guilty, sad and even worse. “where were you?” 

you shake your head, “nowhere hwa, i’m telling you it’s your bl-“

he suddenly raises your hair up in a bunch and yanks down your shirt, eyes stuck on the cut right behind your neck. “this isn’t mine,” he clenches his jaw and you feel his breathing fan your skin.

he turns his head to look into your eyes, eyebrow raising as his face turns bitter. “where were you y/n,” when you try and interrupt him, “answer me right now, and don’t you dare lie.” 

“me and yeosang were practicing,” oh, only if you didn’t stutter, he would’ve believed you, his eyes bore into your side and your eyes drop to the floor. 

when the room goes silent, you could hear the ringing noises in your ear. the faded groans of others getting their wounds tended at, seonghwa’s hand around your waist tightens and he forces you to look at him. 

“you went to the war,” he breathes. 

“without telling me,” he pauses, “with our child.” 

dread pools over you so quick that you almost forget to breathe, your eyes are glued shut and you hear his breathing get harsh. 

“answer me y/n, did you, or did you not go to the war.” 

you stay quiet for a few moments, knowing you’re in the wrong. there’s no need to hide it from him as it could possibly become a bigger deal.

“y/n.” 

“i did,” you nod and almost immediately he softly pushes you away from him, “hwa, i know i’m wrong i sh-“

“don’t ‘hwa’ me right now,” he warns, eyes fueling with anger. “how- who in the right mind would go to a war, pregnant!” 

he then steps towards you and you look at him in the eye, “y/n, are you fucking stupid? how, how- i don’t even have the fucking words!” he yells, and you shut your eyes.

“do you know how dangerous that is?” 

“hwa, i’m okay.” you interrupt him, “i’m alive.”

“and what if you weren’t?” he yells, “huh? what if you died? what if someone shot you or stabbed you? what if our child... died, y/n?” 

you suck in a deep breathe, “nothing happened seonghwa, i’m here! i’m standing in front of you, with our child!” 

“you willingly went to the war,” he points a finger at you, “you put yourself and the kid in such danger, y/n are you out of your god damn mind?!”

“just listen to me pl-“

“what if something happened to our child? you’re already injured, god forbid something might’ve happened!” he cries out loud and you notice him choking up. “did you even think of that or did you just think it’ll be okay?!” 

the room is so quiet, so quiet that you hear no footsteps from outside. because you know they’re hearing everything, the silence pains you and you know you’re wrong. you know that, but you did it anyway. 

“seonghwa, please i’m sorry, i know i’m wrong but please listen to m-“

“why should i listen to you?” he angrily asks, “so that you can preach about you saving the kingdom?” he grabs the nearest object and throws it on the floor, yeosang’s favourite glass now sits shattered into hundreds of pieces. 

“that’s not the point, seonghwa!” you yell this time, “just please let me explain to you why i did it!”

his face screams pain, his eyes are dropping tears while he breathes harshly, hands curled up into fists and eyes glaring daggers at you. 

“i just wanted to protect you hwa,” your voice cuts through the silence, “i’m experienced en-“

he suddenly grabs your shoulders, and your wide eyes look at his, “i’d rather get killed than see you die with our child.” 

“what you did was dumb, reckless and horrible.” he spits, “you’re horrible, i can’t believe that you would do this.” 

you don’t even realize that you’re shaking, that your eyes are pooling with tears and yet they don’t drop. the heat in your throat is getting unbearable and your eyes are staring into his. 

but the only difference is, yours are filled with love and his are with hate. 

“you’re so selfish y/n,” he glares, “so damn selfish.” he whispers, and you swear you heard your heart crack. 

“please, please hear me out hwa, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry- i, know i’m wrong for doing this but at least look at me.” 

he reaches beside you and grabs his shirt, you stand still, not knowing what to do. he won’t even spare you a glance, his hands wipe the tears that keep falling of his face while yours are shaking by your side.

when he’s about to walk past you, you hastily hold onto his arm. “hwa-” 

he turns around with such anger that you let go of his arm, “it’s your highness for you.” and without looking back, he walks out.

next part 

taglist : @idiomaticpunk : @ofcjongho : @ateezappreciation : @sparklychangbin : @annasbananas : @happycandynoelle : @seonghwas-shinystar-x : @treasure-hwa : @etherealbyeol : @rawrrainn : @sktbzc0re : @utopiakys​ : @deobichoice : @hanflix​ : @skmoonchild​ : @uzumakioden​ : @thiccseokmin​​

unable to tag : @multi–trash

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E133 (April 13, 2021)

(Little distracted tonight! Please excuse any and all omissions.)

Tonight’s guests on Good Morning Quebec are Marisha Ray and Travis Willingham!

How are Beau and Fjord feeling about their leadership responsibilities among the Nein? Marisha: “Beau has always admired Fjord and respected his ability to speak like an adult. It does feel like-- are Beau and Fjord the only adults in the room?” Travis points out Caduceus and Caleb’s leadership as well. “In that conversation, at least, just because I want it to be a tiny bit meta, a lot of it’s just mindset. Fjord knows that Beau is a world-breaker, can kick that ass, and the idea that part of the focus would be diverted towards how can we get out here, it was feeling a little bit more like we’re done for rather than we can do this. It was his way of doing the old coach reminder of stop thinking of the ways you’re going to get out of this and start thinking of the ways you’re going to dominate this.” Marisha mentions that Beau and Travis are kind of the two who aren’t saying goodbyes, and yet they’re two of the only ones who just have the Nein. “Even Caleb was allowed to say goodbye to his cat! We don’t even have that. It’s just the Nein. They are the ultimate goodbyes for us, if it comes to that. But hopefully it won’t come to that.” Travis: “There’s a certain drive that comes with not having wrapped it up in a pretty bow.”

On Fjord’s decision to have the Rangers engage: “Yeah, that one stings. I was suffering from the good ol’ regurts almost as soon as it happens. I realized it was just Essek and Fjord, and he was just asking me, and boy there were a lot of horseshit RP things going around my head.” He kept in mind that the captain has to be decisive and focus on his people. “I in no way thought of Dagon at all. Fuck, did I send Dagon to his death? Did that headstrong dude go, nah, I’ll do my own thing and get out of there? I hadn’t really experienced that kind of instant regret in a gameplay situation yet. But in leadership moments, or when you have to make a decision like that, sometimes it’s important to take a fucking minute and think about what you’re doing. Even in D&D. I wish I had taken a moment to say, how far away are they? If you engage them from afar, can you slow them down long enough? Set an ambush if you can, but at least be at max.”

On Beau’s meditation attempt that ended in contact with Lucien: “I think I know exactly what he was trying to do. He was trying to put another fuckin’ eye somewhere on me. I was remembering Keyleth putting her hand in the spinning black orb of death under the Ziggurat and I rolled a natural twenty.” Travis asks if she thinks she and Caleb are “next up in the queue” now that so many of the Tombtakers are dead. “Yeah. I’m gonna get turned.” Travis: “I’ll kill you real good, Beau. I’ll take Caleb first because he made me promise, but I���ll get you good, too.”

On Fjord now having more information about Vandren: “I love it. I feel like such a fuckin’ moron. It never occurred to me for one second that a shipwrecked person that survived would have maybe just wound up on the nearest island. Nope. Didn’t even bother to do the Castaway grid and check the nearest body of land. I’m a fuckin’ terrible D&D player.” Fjord washed up extremely far away from the wreck. “I love that he’s there. I cannot wait to go find him and have a conversation. I just don’t know which will come first: going to Darktow and confronting Sabien or going to see Vanden. But both of those things are on the list, for sure. Just for closure, I mean, damn.” Brian asks if Fjord is okay with Jester having reached out. “Yeah, totally. Fjord is a big dummy in a lot of ways.” He mentions that Fjord has a lot of ideas in his head about what it means to “be a man” that keeps him from asking for help when he needs it. “When Jester did that, it just reaffirmed his feelings for her and how she feels for him. It’ll take those kind of people in his life to help him along to the things that he wants when he’s too stupid or shy to acknowledge it himself.”

How about that alliance with Essek? Marisha: “Here’s the thing. Beau wasn’t like, ooh, allying with Trent, that’s icky because of moral reasons. It’s not that. The more allies, the better in this moment. Teaming up with Magneto kind of situation. But Beau’s whole concern was is this going to distract you from the overall mission. I couldn’t imagine walking alongside someone who had just tortured me in the way that Trent has. We spent so many episodes watching Caleb have these post-traumatic flashes of when he lit his family on fire. Caleb’s a shotgun, he’s such a good damage-dealer, and if he can’t cope with it. That was Beau’s concern.” Travis: “And just to go along with your Magneto reference, Essek is one powerful person. Trent brings the acolytes. But we recognize that if we stop the Tombtakers and Lucien then we probably have to stop Trent and the Vollstruckers. But I wanted to open it to Caleb, because we gotta face that motherfucker at some point.”

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Yasha! (krisjaded on Instagram, photography by adambenfer on Instagram)

On Beau’s plan to put a possible eavesdropper off their trail at Pumat’s: “I mean, everything is a long shot.” Taliesin suggested the idea. “I said Darktow because I thought, hey, if he tries to follow us to Darktow, he’ll probably get murdered. He’ll never make it back. We have no idea. It could have been completely transparent, or maybe he’ll be stupid enough to actually try it.”

Fan Art of the Week: a lovely Caduceus! (by arcanum.dice on Instagram)

How’s the relationship with Yasha been going? “It’s so new! And fresh and weird, and she’s trying to remember to be like, oh, that’s right! You’re my girlfriend! I owe you some attention, that’s right. It’s nice to have somebody. We were talking about not really having anyone to say goodbye to in this round of goodbyes, Beau is looking to the future and those relationships are keeping her afloat.”

On seeing more of Aeor, looking forward to it? Travis: “I really want them dead first. If collections of explorers and expeditions from the Cerberus Assembly and the Dynasty have turned up stuff they don’t know what to do with yet, what the fuck are a bunch of chuckle-dicks like us going to do with it?” They’re interested in a distant sort of way - there are bigger issues at hand.

Travis mentions that he’s never been quite so emotionally invested in the game before and notes that was at the root of his competitive attitude at the end of the last episode. “The lines were so blurred in that way. It’s just a testament to the never-ending learning process that comes from this game that I underestimated my entire life.”

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 4)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: swearing, angst

Part Summary: You wake up at the Chateau in JJ’s arms. When you receive a urgent call from Topper, you return to the Figure 8, much to JJ’s dismay. 

Masterlist

You wake up to the sound of a faint buzzing. A small groan leaves your throat as you attempt to stretch out your limbs, but are trapped beneath the weight of an arm. Your eyes flicker open and adjust to the golden rays pouring in from the window. JJ doesn't even shift, completely unaware of your moving. You recognize the sound of your phone buzzing and dig around the recliner. You two must've fallen asleep during the movie. Kiara and Pope remain on the floor, sprawled out like starfish. The couch is empty, John B and Sarah are probably in his room. You finally manage to find your phone beneath JJ's hip. You do your best to slide it out without waking him. Slowly, you climb out of the chair, placing JJ's arm down gently. 

“Hello?” You whisper, suppressing a yawn as you step out to the porch to not wake the others. 

“Hey, Princess," Topper's worried voice echoes through the device. "Did I wake you?”

 You settle down on the couch in a ball, shaking your head as if Topper can see you. “No, No, it’s okay," you lie for his sake. "Is everything alright?” 

“It’s Rafe..." he sighs. "He kinda got outta hand last night and he hasn’t been to bed yet. He keeps saying he’s going to go to your house. I don’t think your parents should see him like this.” 

“What?" Your brows scrunch together in confusion. Slowly, the events of last night are creeping back to you. You remember all of it, but some parts are only flashes like photographs. "I’m not even home.” 

“Wait, where are you then?” Topper questions, sounding just as confused as you. 

“I uh... I stayed at Sarah's," you conjure up on a whim. 

“Okay..." he replies, not sounding fully convinced. "well do you think you could stop by my place or something? Rafe won’t shut up until he sees you. Thank God my mom left for Atlanta this morning. I can pick you up if you need.” 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll uh... I’ll borrow Sarah’s car or something. I’ll text you when I’m on my way," you determine. 

“Okay, see you then," Topper agrees, hanging up the phone. 

You drop the device in your lap, resting your forehead against your knees. None of this feels real. What are you even doing here? One minute you and Topper are stumbling out of the locker room and the next you're making out with JJ in a hammock. Holy shit, you made out with JJ in a hammock! Topper is going to kill you! He can't know. No, he can never know. 

“Morning Baby," JJ greets as he steps out onto the porch. He rubs his eyes as he walks over to join you. 

“Morning, sorry that I woke you up,” you apologize. 

"Don't be." He plops down next to you, bringing his arm to rest between your tucked legs. His hand is warm against your exposed knee. A part of you wants to cling to him like a koala, but your mind is also on Topper. "Who was that?” He yawns. 

“Topper," you answer truthfully, though it was hesitant. "Apparently, Rafe is acting out and keeps asking for me. I’m gonna head over there to calm him down a little." 

“Wait, what!" JJ's eyes widen, processing what you said. "By yourself?” 

“JJ, it’s okay! It’s just Topper and Rafe,” you snicker at his dramatic reaction. 

“Yeah! Rafe!" He repeats, turning his body toward you. His arm between your legs moves to your back and is replaced with his free one. "The guy who gave you laced weed, Babe!" 

Your lower lip pouts slightly as you're appreciative of his concern though it's not necessary. Impulsively, you bring your hand to his cheek and he leans into your touch subtly. “It’ll be fine, we’re not going to do anything. I’m just helping out Top. Once we get Rafe to chill I’ll be out of there.” 

“I’m driving,” he names his terms sternly. 

Your lips part as worry starts to build up inside you. “JJ, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I-“ 

“I wasn’t asking," he cuts you off sharply, his lips pressed together. “Either I go with you and wait in the car or you don’t go at all," he offers an ultimatum. 

'Okay, that's hot,' you think to yourself. 

You sit stunned for a second. As much as you hate the name, you're still the Princess of the OBX, no one talks to you like that or gives you ultimatums. Yet, you can't help but be utterly compliant when it comes to JJ Maybank. 

“Okay," you nod, trying your hardest to not blush, but ultimately fail. "As long as there’s no Pogue vs. Kook fistfights," you add to the rules. 

JJ notices your eyes wandering to his lips and leans forward with a smirk. “I can’t make any promises.” 

You grin as JJ brushes his lips against yours, bringing you in for a kiss. When he woke up JJ was nervous that he fucked up last night and that you'd regretted everything. It's just JJ always assuming the worst to avoid disappointment. His arm on you was him testing the waters. After a second, once learning that you're not going to pull away, he deepens the kiss. Your fingers comb through his luscious hair and grip the roots slightly. His hand on your knee steadily glides down your skin, moving between your legs. 

"Oh no!" You gasp against his lips, realizing something. 

JJ jumps, breaking his lips from yours and flying his hands off. “Woah, what! Sorry!” He thought maybe his hand may have set you off or something. He’s not sure what your boundaries are or anything, everything is still so new. 

“I don’t have a change of clothes!" You tell him. 

“Jesus," he rolls his eyes, finally able to breathe again. "Wear my shirt you’re wearing,” he gestures to the black AC/DC shirt hanging on you. 

You raise your eyebrows. “And have them start a fight? No way! They'll know it’s not mine," you explain stressfully. 

"You're right, tell them it's your boyfriend's and to mind their own damn business," JJ determines with a carefree shrug. Only after a couple seconds does he process that he called himself your boyfriend, having not discussed that yet. 

You raise your brows at his remark. A faint laugh escapes you, as if that would go over well with the boys. “As much as I would love to, I don’t think that would go well considering Rafe is already losing his mind.” 

A rush of relief consumes JJ when you don’t reject him. In fact, he’s over the moon when you don’t deny that he’s indeed your boyfriend. 

“So..." JJ drags out, gliding your fingers up and down your thigh. "Did you give Topper a specific time?” 

“No, just that I’d be over as soon as possible." You smirk, already knowing what he's thinking. "Why?” 

"Because if I remember correctly," he purrs into your ear with a smirk. "We were rudely interrupted last night..."

 As much as you'd love to do what JJ has in mind, you owe it to Topper to show up at a decent time. "We have the rest of the day for that," you move back a little, much to JJ's disappointment. He groans, making you giggle. "If Rafe acts up any more than he already has and goes to my house I'm royally screwed." 

"Okay, fine! Fine!" He rises up from the couch and offering you a hand. "But I'm holding you to your word! I expect full tomfoolery later!" 

"Deal." You lean in and plant a peck to his lips, making him blush. 

JJ grabs the keys to the Twinkie while you wait outside. You go over the plan multiple times on the way over, mainly to ease your nerves. JJ will park a few yards down the road, hidden behind the hedges that line Topper's yard. You will tell Topper that Sarah dropped you off and that you'll walk home because you live a few blocks away. Checking on Rafe will only take twenty minutes tops, but you're aiming for fifteen. You've done this before, taking care of Rafe. Get sick, chug Pedialyte, have Mcdonald's delivered, and put him to bed. 

You text Topper as soon as you're on your side of the island. 

Heading over now! 

A minute later, you receive a response. 

Awesome! See you soon! Thanks again Y/N/N. Owe you one! 

JJ does exactly as planned, making sure the Twinkie can't be seen from Topper's house. Reluctantly, he lets you out without him. He warns though that if you don't text him or give him some sign that you're okay within the ten-minute time slot he's given that he'll come in after you. You promise that you'll text him a smiley face as soon as you get the chance. 

You knock on Topper's front door a few times and wait for the tall boy to answer. After a few minutes you call for your friends. "Top! Rafe!" 

"I don't want you! I want Y/N!" You hear from the backyard and make your way back. 

"She's on her way!" Topper shouts. 

"Dude! Just sit down!" You hear Kelce add. 

"Guys?" You pop your head around the corner and find Rafe standing on the edge of Topper's pool, fully clothed in his suit from the night before. 

"Y/N! Finally!" Rafe gleams, gripping a bottle of champagne in his hand. 

"Thank God," Topper grumbles to himself as he approaches you. "Thanks again for coming," he greets with a kiss to your temple. 

"Of course," you smile as you move toward Kelce. You give him a quick side hug as you greet everyone. "When did you get here?" 

"About five minutes ago," he answers, breathless from trying to keep Rafe from jumping in. "Apparently I'm not good enough because he keeps asking for you." 

"Hey, Rafe, what's up?" You call over to the boy as stumbles over to you. 

"Geez, you are the most gorgeous girl in the OBX," he grins. 

"Oh am I now? What have you been up to?" You asking, knowing the answer. He smells of weed, sweat, and stale alcohol. His suit will no doubt need some serious dry cleaning. 

"Eh, nothing too exciting," he waves his hand and places an arm over your shoulder. "After you disappeared from the party the boys and I went back to do a few more lines. It wasn't as fun without you. Where did you go anyway? We looked all over for you." 

JJ crosses his arms over his chest. "Yeah, where'd you go?" He repeats as if you didn't explain it before on the phone. 

You frown at your best friend. Why is he acting like that? "Sarah convinced her parents to give her the car and she took me to her house while her parents were are the party," you repeat the story you rehearsed with JJ. 

"But Sarah was still at the party after we lost you. She told your parents that you left..." Topper replies slowly, almost as though he's accusing you of something. 

"Yeah, I was waiting in the car," you answer without hesitation. 

"Right..." Topper nods with narrowed eyes. 

You roll your eyes at Topper and bring your arm around Rafe. "Let's get you inside." 

"I wanted to go for a swim," Rafe whines. 

"That sounds so fun," you pretend, silently begging him to go inside without any retaliation. "Sadly, I didn't bring my suit." 

"Come on, Y/N, it's not like I haven't seen you in your underwear before," Rafe chuckles as you cross the threshold of the sliding door. 

"Nice, Rafe," Topper sarcastically remarks. 

"Oh no, I think I'm gonna be sick," Rafe coughs, hutching over next to you. 

 "I got this one," Kelce shouts, moving to get his friend toward the bathroom. 

Now that Rafe is inside and in the "get sick" stage, you move on to ordering him McDonald's. Knowing Topper's house like the back of your hand, you walk into the kitchen, leaving the boy in the living room. You hop onto the counter, your legs dangle over the edge. As you tap through your phone, Topper enters the room. 

"Are you feeling better?" He checks on you with a smile, a complete 180 from the attitude he was giving you minutes before. "I was out of it but I vaguely remember us stumbling out of the locker room," he chuckles. 

"Yeah we kinda went a little too far last night," you giggle, recalling the memory. "But I feel much better." 

Topper nods, offering you a faint smirk. He parts your legs, resting his palms on your thighs. "I'm surprised Ward let you and Sarah take his new Porsche considering he won't even let Rose drive it." 

Your heart races, shit. You didn't realize Ward took the Porsche to the party. When Sarah got to John B's she was in a BMW. 

"He must've had a lot of whiskey or something," you ramble out. 

The boy nods, bringing his hands to your hips. "Interesting... and-" Topper scrunches his brows together, glancing down at your body. "What are you wearing right now?" 

Shit. 

"It's uh... Sarah's," you blurt out what JJ said before you can think it through. 

"Sarah owns a ripped-up AC/DC shirt?" Topper snickers, not believing you for a second. 

"What? You don't?" You try to play it off. 

"Did you end up borrowing Sarah's car?" He changes the subject quickly, making your furrow your brows. 

"She dropped me off," you stick to your story. 

"That's nice of her," Topper comments, stepping closer to you. Usually, you'd like having him so close, but there's an underlying tension between you that makes you anxious. 

"For sure," you mutter, avoiding his gaze. 

"So you need a ride home?" He offers. 

"Nah, it's okay. I'll walk," you rush out. 

Topper brings his hand to the collar of your shirt, his fingertips gliding across your collar bone to rest on the side of your neck. "I kinda needed to see your brother anyway." 

You swallow hard, trying to remain calm. "For what?" 

"We're supposed to go out to the course later," he matches your quiet tone. 

"Cool," you nod faintly, starring down at your lap. 

"You and that Pogue seemed friendly last night before I came over... " Topper insinuates. 

Your head snaps up, meeting Topper's burning gaze. "Pogue? What Pogue?" 

"The one bartending," he snickers mockingly. 

"The blonde kid? Oh, not really," your brows scrunch together, nervously fidgeting with your phone case. "I only met him last night, didn't even catch his name," you lie. 

Topper tilts his head to the side. "Isn't he friends with John B? He's been around the Cameron's place a few times." 

"I haven't noticed," you shrug.

You can't tell whether he believes you or not. His stern expression never wavering. You feel trapped with his hands gripping your hips. 

"He's certainly noticed you, hasn't he?" The boy remarks with a wicked smirk as he stares at your lips. 

You shift your head back, taken aback by his words. "What does that mean?" 

"Oh come on, Y/N," Topper mutters your name, not one of his usual nicknames. "You're telling me you didn't notice him looking you up and down? It's why I came over to the bar after your dance with Rafe. I already had a full whiskey on the table." 

You snicker at the information, utterly amazed by the lengths Topper will go. "You ordered a drink just because you thought JJ was "too friendly" with me?" 

Topper narrows his eyes at you curiously. "I thought you didn't know his name?" 

Chills course over your skin as your breath hitches in your throat. Now, you remember that you haven't texted JJ and you're not sure how long it's been. 

"You want to tell me what's really going on, Y/N?" Topper presses. 

"Nothing's happening! I've gotta go," you snap, pressing a hand to his chest to urge him off of you. 

Topper grabs your wrist, removing your hand from him. Abruptly, he slams his lips to yours. Desprately, he brings his free hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. 

"Get-" you mutter against his lips as you try to fight him off. Instinctively you punch him in the chest, causing him to break from you. "Get off of me!" You gasp, hopping down from the counter as Topper stumbles back. "What the hell Topper!" 

His eyes grow wide, comprehending what he's done. He reches for you, but you cower away. "Y/N, I-" 

"No!" Your voice cracks as tears threaten to fall from your eyes. "You don't just get to do that whenever you feel like it! I'm not at your disposal when you want me!" 

He nods frantically. "I know that! I didn't-" 

"Ugh, whatever Top. I'm tired of this interrogation! You and Kelce can babysit Rafe without me!" You wave your hands as your march out of the room toward the front door. 

"Y/N! Y/N, wait!" Topper calls after you. "Y/N!" 

He follows you out the front door to the driveway in a panic. He can't believe he just kissed you, the one thing he swore he'd never do without your permission. He was just so desperate. He could feel you moving away from him and was panicking that maybe you were keeping something from him. 

"Y/N!" Topper wraps his fingers around your wrist. 

You yank your arm free as you spin on your heels to face him. "Don't grab me!" 

"Don't walk out on me!" He barks, instantly regretting it. 

Topper knows this isn't the way to get to you, but he's just so worried that you're slipping away. This wouldn't be the first time you two have fought this way, having it out in front of one of your houses. Similar to an old married couple, you two fight as passionately as you love each other. 

"You don't own me, Topper!" You remind the boy. 

"I'm just looking out for you!" He reasons in a shot. 

"You're the one who's acting like my dad right now!" You scoff. 

"Oh!" He laughs mockingly. "Is that what being an overbearing friend is called now?" 

You huff, turning over your shoulder to continue down the driveway. 

Topper stays where he is, yelling at you as your march away. "You know what, fine! Don't tell me what's going on! I just thought we were closer than that! I must've misunderstood all of last year, all of those late-night conversations and that weekend in Bermuda or all of winter break!" 

"Oh, my lord!" You groan, tossing your head back as you stop in your tracks. "Stop being so dramatic!" 

"What's he doing here?" Topper questions, his volume at a normal level. 

You frown, following his eyes as they linger behind you. Turning over your shoulder, you spot JJ standing at the end of the driveway. 

You hide your face in your hands. "Oh, Jesus-" 

"You have to be kidding me!" Topper shouts with a chuckle of frustration. 

"JJ, can you give us a minute?" You request calmly, giving the blonde a weak smile. 

"You brought him! You bring a Pogue!" Topper can't help but laugh, shocked by how this day has gone to complete shit in a span of fifteen minutes. 

Nervously, you rush over to Topper, pressing your hands to his chest. "Top, just go inside, okay!" You try your best to keep the situation civil. "I'll be inside in a minute-" 

"You're on the wrong side of the island, Pogue!" He points to JJ over his shoulder. 

"Just stick a cork in it, Prince Charming," JJ bites back from his spot. 

You huff, using all your strength to push a stubborn Topper toward the front door. He towers over you and is much stronger than you, so it's a tall task. 

"Prince Charming? Really!" Topper laughs. "Wow, got a real smartass here, Princess," he tells you. 

"Just for the love of all that good and holy go inside!" You beg of him with a grunt as you continue to guide him inch by inch. 

"Not until you get this trailer park trash off my driveway!" Topper bitterly remarks, loud enough for JJ to hear. 

"JJ and I will go as soon as we're done here," you tell him calmly with a huff, giving up on moving him. 

You step back, preparing to leave, but Topper grips your forearms. "No way you're leaving with him! No, you're staying here with us!" 

When Topper grabs you, JJ loses all cool and storms toward your friend. "Touch her again and I'll kick your ass, Kook!" JJ likes to think he's been rather rational and on his best behavior up until this point considering Topper is treating you as his property. 

"JJ! Don't!" You intercept the boy and though he could easily move you aside, he remains in your arms. 

"As if I'd leave her with your tripped-out friend and cluster of misogynistic asshole!" He points at Topper aggressively. 

"You don't know a thing about us, Pogue!" Topper pushes. 

"Topper! Enough! JJ back off!" You instruct sharply. 

With a growl, JJ walks back down the driveway, refusing to turn his back on the Kook. Cooling down slowly, he takes your hand, squeezing it tightly as he leads you toward the sidewalk. 

"You leave with him now and we're done!" Topper declares, making you stop in your tracks. "I mean it! You leave now and you're a Pogue!" 

"You don't mean that," you shake your head in disbelief. 

He laughs wickedly, "I promise you I do! It's them or us! You can't have both, Y/N!" 

It feels as though Topper has sucked all life from you. The light that he's kept going inside of you for so long has burned out. He's been your reason to be happy since you were kids and now he's threatening to desert you forever. All because you're falling for a Pogue. 

Kelce and Rafe appear in the archway of the front door. Kelce frowns, "what's going on out here?" 

"What's that Pogue doing here?"  Rafe questions. He sees your grieving expression and his wild antics become a distant memory. "Y/N?" 

You swallow hard, clenching your jaw in disgust at the Kook you once called your best friend. "Ask Topper!" 

You yank your hand free of JJ's and run down the driveway in the direction of the Twinkie. JJ jogs after you worriedly. He unlocks the car and you rush to get in. As soon as you sit down, you hunch over in your seat, your head cradled in your hands. JJ climbs in next to you and starts the car. He glances over at you and a wave of guilt consumes. He can't help but think this is all his fault. If he hadn't gone to check on you, maybe Topper wouldn't have said what he did. You wouldn't be devastated and you'd acknowledge his presence. 

JJ places a hand on your back. "Baby-" 

Before JJ can finish you cower away from him, moving your body toward the window. His heart drops as a million worst-case scenarios start to play in his mind. You hate him. You hate him now because he cost you, Topper. Of course, he already thought about what it would mean if you had to choose between him or Topper. He just had a naive inkling of hope that maybe you'd choose him and be okay, be happier with him. Now, he realizes by your disgust of him that you would've chosen Topper if Topper didn't push you toward JJ. 

_________________________________

The ride back to John B's is painfully silent. JJ had to turn on the radio five minutes in to drown out the overwhelming self-deprecating thoughts ringing in his mind. As soon as JJ rolls up to the end of the gravel driveway, you see the Pogues and Sarah gathered around the old bonfire eating breakfast. Not wanting to see them, you hop out, the car not even in park yet. 

"Hey guys! Where have-" Sarah stops as she sees you run into the house. JJ climbs out of the van and slams the door shut, grumbling various cuss words to himself. "What's wrong with Y/N?" Sarah asks him once he's closer to the group. 

"Topper called her this morning," the boy answers, pressing his lips together as he sits on an empty log. "Your brother was acting up and wouldn't chill out until he saw her. Long story short, I fucked up and intervened when things got tense with her and Topper," JJ hisses, clasping his hands together. "Topper told her that if she left with me that they wouldn't talk to her again so we left..." 

The group is silent, exchanging worried glances. Sarah's jaw is nearly in the dirt. She never thought in a million years that Topper would ever say those words to you. JJ's knee shakes up and down as he hides his head above his knees.  He rises to his feet, picking up an empty can from last night, and chucks it into the words with all his strength. "Y/N won't even fucking look at me!"

"That's not your fault, JJ," Kiara assures her friend, breaking the silence. "You did the right thing! Topper is a jerk!" 

"She'll come around. It's probably for the best that she's cut off from them. Those guys aren't good for her," Sarah adds. 

JJ exhales deeply, facing Sarah. "Do you know what happened last year or in Bermuda and Topper said something about winter break?" 

"Oh..." the girl's face falls. 

"What is it? Is it bad?" John B asks from beside her. 

"Not exactly. Topper and Y/N... Well..." she struggles to come up with the right words. 

You and Topper struggle to navigate your way through the pitch-black bungalow. You two have just gotten dropped off from the cantina in town. Half an hour before, Topper was doing body shots off of you. The boy leads you through the house, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. Through the moonlight, you notice a pillar right in Topper's path. 

“Watch out!” You gasp, tugging Topper back. 

“Oh shit!” He stumbles into you, pinning you against the wall. 

“I told you to watch out!” You giggle and peek around the corner into the living room. “Oh my god!” Your hand flies up to your mouth. 

“What! What is it?” Topper rushes out. 

“Rafe and that girl from Brazil,” you whisper, suppressing your laughter. 

“No way! You’re kidding!” Through the darkness, you can see Topper's eye grow wide as he steps to the side to see around the corner. 

“On the couch!” You instruct drunkenly. 

“Did they?” He wonders. 

“I have no idea!” You giggle. 

“Holy shit!” Topper laughs as he returns to stand in front of you. 

“He was blasted tonight,” you remember. “Poor Kelce went to bed as soon as we got back." 

“I didn’t mind it,” Topper mutters, gliding his fingertips up and down your arm. “Kinda liked it being just us...” 

“Topper,” you whisper his name warningly, a smile on your lips. 

“What?” He chuckles lightly, leaning in closer to you. 

You shake your head, finding it hard not to blush. “We broke up almost a year ago. You and Sarah-“ 

“Are broken up," he finishes. 

“Yeah, and remember how devastated you were no more than two weeks ago?" You try to reason with him. "You still need to heel and figure out what you want.” 

“I want you," he whispers, brushing lips against yours. 

“Top, I don’t think-“ 

Before you can finish, he kisses you softly. It's not the first time and you know in the back of your mind it likely won't be the last. 

“You’re all I think about, Y/N,” he confesses against your lips. “I need to feel you again. I miss the way you taste.” 

“Top...” You mutter breathlessly. 

You shake your head, despite not stopping him. “We shouldn’t...” 

“We deserve to, don’t we? After everything?" He reasons, tucking his fingers over the band of your panties. "You like me and I like you, we’re both single, there’s history, why can’t we?” 

A million reasons cross your mind, the most important one, your friendship. You and Topper have always been complicated. Things get worse when you add sex to the mix, which is exactly why you two formed boundaries a while back. Then again, you two toss those boundaries out the window every time you drink too much. 

One hand remains on your waist as the other slips down to the hem of your dress. His warm fingertips glide under the fabric, against your thigh. “Don’t you miss it? How we used to be? When we couldn’t get enough of each other," he smirks as a memory pops into his head that he's certain will get to you. “Our ski trip over Christmas.” 

“Okay yeah, you win," you rush out, instantly pressing your lips to his desperately. 

Topper snickers against your lips as he tucks his hands behind your legs and picks you up. Your legs wrap around his waist he just so happens to know effortlessly the direction to his room now. Though he was completely lost minutes before. 

"They dated!" Pope's jaw nearly hits the gravel. 

"No way!" John B wears a similar expression. 

"Yes and no. It's more complicated than that," Sarah tries to explain 

Kiara struggles to piece together the picture. "But I thought you two-" 

"They were friends with benefits before we were dating. Then, when Topper and I started dating, they stopped. Topper and I took a break in the winter and they started up again but stopped after Y/N decided that she couldn't do it anymore. Finally, they all went to Bermuda for a week after Midsummers. They didn't plan on anything happening, according to Y/N, but it kinda just did. They've always had "a thing" for each other. It's only ever been a fling though," Sarah finally manages to lay out the hectic story. 

"And you're okay with that?" Kiara frowns, wondering how Sarah fits into all of that. 

"Nothing happened while we were together," she shrugs but is certain of her words. "I know without a doubt that Y/N would never do that to me. Plus, it was never dating-like... it was more hook-up-ish if that makes sense?" 

"This is insane!" JJ finally voices his perspective, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. 

"I need a diagram," Pope adds. 

"Wait, so Topper and Y/N are on-and-off again. Meanwhile, Rafe has a thing for Y/N. Does Kelce play a role in any of this?" John B brings up a good point. 

Sarah shakes her head. "Not that I know of." 

"That's one fucked up love triangle," Pope releases a pent-up sigh. 

"This is why we have the "no Pogue-on-Pogue macking" rule. That friend group is a mess!" Kiara reasons. 

"Topper and Y/N have always been super close," Sarah describes solemnly considering the recent turn of events. "She must be devastated! Even if he is an ass. He's only ever been good to Y/N. I was low-key jealous of her when I first started seeing Topper. He holds her up on this pedestal," she admits. 

Suddenly, the screendoor creaks, making everyone turn their attention toward the house. Y/N marches out, back in her dress from last night. 

John B breaks the silence. "Hey Y/N! Where are you-" 

"Sarah, can you drive me home?" You ignore the boy on your way to Sarah's car, unlocking it. 

Sarah stands slowly from her position. "Sure, but don't you-" 

"Thanks!" You cut her off, already climbing into the passenger seat and putting the keys into the ignition. 

"I'll... I'll be back later," Sarah stammers in confusion to her friends. 

Everyone watches as Sarah back out of the driveway then turns their focus to a devastated JJ. 

"I fucked it up. I fucked it up!" He screams, squeezes his hands into fists until his knuckles are white. 

"JJ, it's okay! She probably just needs a minute," Kiara rushes out. 

"I have her for two seconds!" He bursts, his face becoming red with frustration. "Two fucking seconds and I ruined it just like I ruin everything else!" 

"Just give it time!" Pope tries to reason with him calmly. 

"Goddammit!" JJ curses before bolting toward the driveway and out of sight. 

"JJ!" His friends all call for him. 

 "JJ come back!" John B shouts to receive no response. "Well this day is officially shit," the boy huffs as he settles back down onto his log. 

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Kiara worries. 

"Hope so," John B whispers. 

After Sarah drops you off, you hide away in your room for the rest of the day. All you do is cry. You already miss Topper more than anything. You need him. You'll always need him. Then, on top of that, you're torturing yourself for how you treated JJ. None of this is his fault, but you treated him like it was. You cowered from him to keep from crying. You didn't want to scare him away, but in the process, you pushed him away. While you're losing your mind, JJ is losing his outside his dad's house with a half-empty bottle of Jim Beam in his hand. He's looking to pick a fight. He figures that if he's in pain physically that the pain he's inflicting on himself mentally will go away. You started the day wrapped up in each other and in bliss. You're ending it both in pain and willing to do anything to make it go away. 

________________________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly @cc13723things @hockeybabe87​ 

[spencersawkward]

hi i love your writing sm, could u do something w having sex w mgg in his trailer🦋

oh yes i can most definitely do that. i just did a blurb that included something similar but i have a whole other fantasy for this one that i think would be so hot. this is just like filthy smut i might have done a lil too much lol.

summary: reader goes to visit her friend, Matthew, on set. when he catches her doing something dirty in his trailer, he offers to help.

word count: 4.2k

relationship: Fem!Reader/Matthew

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, masturbation, dirty talk, face-sitting, degradation, Cocky Matthew, some semi-exhibitionism.

masterlist

my toes curl over the sheets and I let out a dissatisfied groan as I throw the abandoned vibrator onto the side table. ever since flying home from visiting friends in New York, I’ve been absolutely, embarrassingly... horny.

usually, my trusty toy is able to work wonders; this week has been rough, though. maybe it’s something to do with my stress-levels or maybe my body just doesn’t feel like cooperating. it doesn’t help that I have about an hour before I’m scheduled to visit my friend on the set of his show.

I haven’t seen Matthew in almost a year. between his shooting schedule and my own job getting more demanding, spending time together really hasn’t been possible. I miss his laugh and the way our conversations always flow so easily. whenever we hang out, it’s like we pick up right where we left off. and now, as I give up on trying to get one off before seeing him, I start to wonder what to expect. a tour? meeting his castmates?

to be completely honest, I don’t really want to do any of that. I’m sure they’re all very nice people and we’d have a good time, but the last week in the city was so full of group interactions that I’m really hoping to sit across from each other and just... talk.

there’s no point in speculating, though. instead, I glance over at my disappointing toy and sigh. maybe next time.

when I get there, Matthew texts me to wait for him so he can bring me to his trailer. everyone is bustling around, moving according to their own chaotic schedules. a couple golf carts occasionally roll through the space, toting actors and other personnel. it’d be overwhelming for anyone who isn’t used to it.

“Y/N!” Matthew’s voice cuts across the din of the set as he waves. he’s leaning out of the side of a golf cart that he’s driving, which makes me nervous as he pulls up to me. I raise my eyebrows in surprise as he stops the cart and hops out to wrap me in a hug.

he smells good, like expensive cologne and cool air. as he withdraws, he sets his hands on my shoulders and grins at me.

“you look great! how are you?” as usual, he’s talkative. I smile back, though, and take in his appearance. he’s always been handsome, but right now Matthew is looking especially good: the breeze has swept his curls, he’s got on a colorful button-up short-sleeve with parakeets on it, and there’s some stubble growing on his face that’s new. he looks older, more mature.

kind of sexy.

“I’m really well. cool ride you’ve got.” I nod to the golf cart and Matthew laughs.

“you wanna know a secret?” he smirks. I raise my eyebrows and he leans down a little to reach my height. “I’m not supposed to drive that.”

“how’d you get it?” I frown. knowing him, he probably managed to charm his way around the rules, but I’m sure there’s a funny story behind it as well. he’s full of weird anecdotes.

“one of my cast mates distracted the guy who runs the warehouse where they keep them.” he winks, then gestures for me to follow him. I slide into the passenger seat and before I can really process what’s happening, he’s swerving in a wide circle and speeding off.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” he practically yells over the sound of the motor. “but I know you’ve been busy.”

“yeah, I actually just started writing for this new show.”

“you’re downtown, then?” he glances over with a smile and then we’re slowing to a stop. an enormous trailer sits among rows of other enormous trailers, presumably for his cast mates. he turns off the cart and turns his body to face me while I talk. zeroes in on me in a way that makes my stomach flip.

“for right now, yeah.” I can’t help the smile. it’s been a while since I’ve worked in Los Angeles; I was working as a writer on one of Matthew’s independent films when I got an offer in New York and decided to relocate. and even though it was amazing there, I missed California sunshine and I missed him. we were inseparable before I left.

“so, what I’m hearing is that you’re now legally bound to hang out with me.” he grins in that dazzling way of his. I laugh and nod, climbing out when he does. he opens the trailer door for me. “I have to go back to work in about twenty minutes, but afterwards I wanna take you to dinner.”

“oh, I could have come later. I’m sorry.” I turn to apologize, but he’s quick to wave it off.

“it’s fine. as long as you don’t mind spending an hour in here, it shouldn’t be too torturous.”

I peer around the space, noticing the little ways in which Matthew has made this place his own: aside from all the complimentary gift baskets and notes, the trailer is occupied by strange trinkets that he’s collected, random books and notebooks that scatter the couch and what looks like an attempt at a desk.

“wow.” I say. he sidles up next to me, sighing and realizing that it’s a bit cluttered.

“sorry about the mess. I haven’t really had time to clean up.”

“no, no, I meant ‘wow’ in a good way.” I walk over to the couch and sit down, patting the spot next to me. he smiles, pushes an acting theory book out of the way, and sinks into the cushions a safe distance from me.

“tell me about this job, then.” he immediately starts. I shrug.

“it’s nothing huge, just a teen drama. everyone I work with is brilliant, though.”

“that’s amazing. have you had a chance to work on your art?”

I think back to all the times when Matthew and I would spend free afternoons doing doodle competitions of the crew, usually on random scripts. they were judged by other cast mates, anyone who would take the time to look. I don’t think I was supposed to be on set as much as I was, but it was worth it.

“I wish. my schedule is so busy now, I barely have time to make dinner for myself.” I laugh. he leans back into the corner of the couch, resting his arm on top of the back. I pull one leg beneath me and mirror his actions.

“that’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing some new stuff.”

“I don’t think any of my co-workers would particularly enjoy the representations I do of them.”

“sour sports.” he says. the strangeness and vehemence of the sentiment makes me snort and I glance at the notebooks around the room.

“how about you? any new masterpieces?”

we go on like this for a while, just catching up and slipping into our inside jokes and memories as if they aren’t from a different time in our lives. although I was excited to see him today, there was a lingering nervousness about it going as planned. sometimes you try to reconnect and the spark is just... gone. but Matthew is still Matthew, and I’m still me.

he ends up leaving to go shoot sooner than I can believe, time passing quickly, and tells me to feel free to read any of his books or look through his sketchbooks. he never hides anything, and it’s admirable.

once he’s gone, I settle onto the couch with a used Ray Bradbury anthology that I found beneath a bag of sour candies and start to read.

my mind wanders, however, as I try to concentrate on the page. I think about how Matthew looks now, how the stubble makes his jaw even more defined. those wide, hazel eyes that always seem to glitter with enthusiasm. I don’t know if I’m still frustrated from the unsuccessful session with my vibrator earlier, but the thoughts begin to turn over in my mind and mingle with other ones.

there were moments with him that I remember, quiet ones where we’d be about to say goodnight or moments where he’d fall asleep on my shoulder in my apartment, where I’d look at him and consider the possibility. we get on so well, and he’s arguably one of my best friends. distance hasn’t changed that. there are things I would tell him that I haven’t told my other friends.

and when he’d brush against my skin, or grab my arm to get my attention, and my imagination would run wild. heated kisses and closed doors. finding the way to my bed in the dark, his hands on my waist while he crawls on top of me. things that never happened but that I imagined as if they were real memories seared into my mind.

and now, sitting in this trailer with this book and on this couch that smells like him, those feelings return like something lost, then found: rushing, feverish, overpowering. the images come in a flux, his weight on top of mine and his teeth dragging over my tits. on this couch, that’s all I want.

there’s a blush on my cheeks as I drop the book on the floor and undo the button on my pants. it won’t take me long; I can feel how wet I’m getting and I haven’t even thought that much about it. the pent-up excitement from earlier will overtake my senses. he said I have an hour, and this might take ten minutes tops.

as my fingertips brush over my panties, I close my eyes and imagine they’re his. curious, gentle, teasing before reaching below the waistband and cupping me. I whimper, starting to trace over the wet folds of my entrance with an eager hand. it feels good, right, and the heat of my body tells me that this time, it’ll work. my head is full of thoughts of him, and I dip a finger in, clenching around the digits. the heel of my palm presses into my clit and I moan, starting to work myself.

I imagine Matthew coming in here after he’s done and kissing me like he’s wasted enough time waiting; like he can’t wait another second to be with me. my pace quickens at the memory of his hands, veined and strong and sure, pumping into me. taunting me.

“Matthew...” I whine, removing my fingers to circle my clit with a hurried pressure. every second burns across my skin, reminding me that what I’m doing is wrong. I shouldn’t be touching myself in his trailer while he works, especially not when he’s coming back soon.

but it’s hot, too, and the rhythm I create is impossible to resist. I switch between fingering and toying with my bundle of nerves while clenching my free hand in the couch cushion. my eyes are squeezed shut as I get closer to orgasm, the knot in my stomach tightening with every moment.

“o-oh my god,” I hum. “Matthew--”

the sharp intake of breath makes my entire body freeze. my eyes fly open to see the bastard himself standing there, lips parted. he can’t seem to figure out where to look: my face, which was just contorted in pleasure while I moaned his name, or my pussy, which is almost completely on display now that I’ve managed to push my jeans down to my knees.

“oh my god.” I stutter, immediately removing my hand and sitting up. my cheeks are on fire and everything around me seems surreal. this can’t be real. “y-you weren’t supposed to be back for an hour.” I say stupidly. shit ton of luck that hour did me.

“we, uh, wrapped early.” he averts his eyes, then glances cautiously at my face. “I promise I walked in here before I knew. I never meant--”

“no, it’s fine.” I pull up my jeans, still too shocked to make any sweeping movements. he doesn’t seem quite sure what to do with himself, and I speak to break the silence. “sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wonder what you’d have done with an actual hour.” he says it like he’s attempting to lighten the mood, then winces as he realizes that he shouldn’t have said that. “sorry, bad joke. I’m just-- surprised.”

“Matthew, I’m so sorry--” I start. there’s literally no other direction to take this conversation. I feel like I’ve ruined our friendship within the span of a few seconds.

“were you saying my name?” he asks, eyebrows slightly raised. I would like to sink into the floor and never come up again, I think.

“well, the thing is--” I take a deep breath. “I don’t normally, um... do that in people’s trailers?” my frown makes him smile a little as he relaxes. now that I’m fully clothed, he doesn’t seem so daunted. I scoot up on the couch and glance between the open spot and him to get him to sit. standing only makes it weirder.

he obliges, watching me pull my knees into my chest before I start to explain. guilt is building in my chest now, so much more real after being caught.

“I don’t wanna make this even more awkward than it is, but I feel like I should make it clear that there’s a reason why I was doing it in here and I’m not some freak who, like, contaminates people’s space. like, I was just gonna be super quick about it and be done because-- and now I’m justifying it, which is even worse--”

“hey, Y/N, relax.” Matthew reaches out and touches my wrist, his fingers soft as they pull my attention to his. when I finally muster the courage to look him in the eyes, he’s got a small smile on his face. “I’m not mad or anything.”

“okay.” I sigh, spine going a little less rigid.

“you were moaning my name, though, right?” he smirks. my eyes widen.

“don’t get too cocky,” I try to play it off. “I haven’t been able to get off for the past few days and I only tried it to see if it would work.”

“looks like it did.” he glances between my flushed cheeks and the hand that was playing with myself, which is now sitting on my jeans. how is he being so fucking smooth right now?

“whatever.” I turn my face away, knowing that anything else would be damning.

“are you still... frustrated?” he asks. his voice is low. my face snaps up, jaw dropping. one of his hands is covering the crotch of his jeans, trying to hide something.

“why?”

“I can help you out. only if you want to, of course.” he says this in complete seriousness. my gaze passes over his features once again to make sure I’m not absolutely dreaming. every line in his face, the intensity of those pretty irises, feels too real to be fake.

“like...” I think about his hands, about what he’s offering. it’s heavier than just sex, but also maybe not. it doesn’t have to be; we’re adults. our friendship wouldn’t be shattered by one encounter.

“like I’ll eat you out right now and fuck you until you can’t take it anymore.” we’ve moved closer on the couch, our faces inches apart while he says it so quietly that I wouldn’t hear it otherwise. the way he licks his lips, stares at me, tells me that we’ve already passed the point of no return. there’s no use in holding back anymore.

“mhmm.” I nod. if I say anything more, I’ll reveal more than he wants to know. that I’ve wanted this for a while, even though I tried to forget the way he makes me feel.

���come here, then.” he beckons me forward and I impatiently crash my lips to his. he responds immediately, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling me to him. he’s greedy, but not in a way that overwhelms. like he’s trying to enjoy the moment. his nose brushes my cheek when he deepens the kiss, my hands looping around his neck. he begins to bite on my lower lip, tugging to get me to moan. I let him explore me, those features that he’s seen so many times but has never touched.

we’re hopeful in our embrace, and my mind feels like spring and how I imagine the earth feels when it’s in full bloom. excitement in my veins as we get more heated. when his fingers unbutton my jeans, he pulls away to take a moment.

“sit on my face.” he breathes out, feverish. I nod, getting up to shrug off my jeans. he watches, licking his lips when I pull down my panties and step out of them, then take off my top and bra. he leans back as if to sink down onto the couch for me, but I shake my head.

“take off your clothes first.” I tell him.

“you wanna see me naked?” he knows the truth, but wants me to say it. the smirk on his face makes me annoyingly aroused. I just start to go for the buttons on his shirt.

“yeah, I wanna see you naked.” I reply. this makes him grin and he helps me out by working on his jeans. we strip him down and then we’re both there, looking at each other.

“c’mere, beautiful.” he grabs my hip and pulls me closer until I get on the couch and position myself. he lies down flat, gesturing for me to scoot up his chest until my core is right above his face. “perfect.”

I’m about to poke a little fun at him for being so confident when he reaches up, wraps his hands around my thighs, and pulls me down against his face.

I yelp, overwhelmed by how he moans against my heat and starts to eat me out. his tongue moves expertly, lapping at the wetness that’s gathered between my legs before teasing my entrance. I release a series of noises that are downright sinful, but the red marks he’s leaving in my thighs tell me he’s loving my reaction. his nose brushes against my clit and I start to roll my hips against his face, falling apart already as he switches between sucking, licking, and sliding his tongue inside me. I grip onto his hair, mumbling like a prayer.

he takes the opportunity to quickly slap my ass before returning to my thighs, burying his face and working with a divine acuity. I can’t believe how good it feels, throwing my head back and arching my spine while I hold my tits. Matthew moves my hand and massages one while he stares up into my eyes, lust evident in every sound and motion.

“Matthew, please--” I gasp. “don’t stop.”

he groans, running his nails down my stomach while I ride his face. I’m needy for him, only uttering his name and more pleas for his tongue. and the sensation of him holding me down like he can’t get enough makes the knot from earlier return easily. I lean back a little, swirl my hips, and then it comes like a white-hot wave.

“oh my god—“ I can barely get it out, moving with abandon. “it’s so fucking good.”

he lets my body slow to a reasonable pace, drawing out the high until I’m swallowing all the air I can get and pull myself away from him. Matthew’s grinning, mouth glistening while he sits up a bit.

“such a wet little pussy.” he tells me, licking his lips. I’m pretty much resting on his chest and I start to move off of him when he quickly straightens himself, wraps his arms around my waist, and pushes me so I’m laying on my back at the other end of the couch with him leaning over me.

I brush his curls out of his face, appreciating the hunger in his face. he craves more of me, and the erection he’s pressing into my inner thigh is proof. I look up at him.

“you’re good.” I concede. he shrugs, smiles. butterflies.

“I just think about it a lot.” the response is simple, but it’s the right one. I blush and he grabs his dick, pumping it a few times before lining it up at my entrance. I search his eyes, those widened pupils, as he shoves into me.

“shit.” he moans, jaw dropping once he’s reaching the hilt. “give it to me, baby.” I can feel him deep inside, cock twitching against my walls as he settles. one of his arms is over me, supporting himself on the arm of the couch, while the other holds my waist.

I don’t speak, only bite down on my lip and whimper through the initial shocks of him. it isn’t until he pulls out that I get more vocal. he starts to roll his hips, never breaking eye contact while I arch my back and moan.

“harder.” I whisper. he tightens his grip on me and slams himself inside. my body instinctively moves up away from the pressure, but he brings me right back down.

“is this what you were thinking about?” he breathes out. “me fucking you like a slut?”

I nod urgently, but he uses an index finger to tilt my face back to his.

“tell me who you belong to, little slut.” his tone is low, laced with lust when he bites his lip and watches my reactions to his cock.

“you.” I whine quietly, grabbing his shoulders for stability while he plows into me.

“louder, sweetheart. you were plenty sure before.” he mocks, pausing after to moan in my ear like he’s absolutely losing it. he roughly tugs me further against him and the sensation makes me cry out.

“y-you-- fuck!”

“c’mon, baby.” he pants. we’re definitely rocking this trailer with the way he’s ramming my body right now. I can feel him like he’s in my ribs.  

“Matthew, oh god--”

“show me how you cum, Y/N. lemme see you fucking break.” the final word is punctuated by him bottoming-out within me, his noises their own stimulation to my senses. I’m trying to breathe but it’s so hard with all the thoughts firing in my brain. he doesn’t go easy on me.

“I’m cumming.” my hips jerk up into his, pussy fluttering like it’s trying to push him out. but the tension only makes him thrust harder, further, chasing his own release as I claw at his back and squeeze my legs around his torso.

“can I fill that tight little cunt up, baby?” he moans into my ear, our bodies like undulating waves. I nod and buck against him, which drives him mad as his thrusts get sloppier. we’re filthy together and it’s otherworldly. “good girl.”

he lets out a whimpering sound while he stills inside my body and cums. I feel him twitching, shooting his load into me. I’m writhing while I clench around him, both of us falling apart. for all his cockiness, he’s lovely when he’s orgasming-- mouth open, eyes rolling back into his head before focusing intently on my face, a sheen of sweat that glows on his cheekbones.

when he finally withdraws, leaving me naked and panting on his couch, his eyes run over my body appreciatively.

“that help?” he smirks as he straightens. I glare at him, kneeing him in the ribs, and he leans down to kiss my cheek, giving me a tender look. “I’m joking. are you okay?”

“more than okay.” I smile. he doesn’t say anything for a moment, closing and opening his mouth as if debating whether or not to say something else.

“you’re really beautiful, you know that?”

“thanks.” as if this man hasn’t already fucked me senseless, I blush, look away shyly. he grabs my clothes from the floor and hands them to me.

“do you want some water?” he’s worried about giving me space. there’s a question lingering between us that I’m afraid to ask, especially now that he hasn’t. Matthew has always been the more bold between the two of us.

“uh, sure.” if it means he takes his eyes off me long enough for me to regain my bearings, yes. I watch him pull on the rest of his clothes before standing and going over to his mini-fridge. I’ll need to clean up soon.

“so...” his voice is measured, hazel eyes slipping over my form.

“so.”

“dinner? and then breakfast?” he suggests. my eyebrows raise at the second question, one that he hasn’t mentioned until now. the implication makes me laugh.

“you think you’re getting this again?” I try to act nonchalant, as if I’m not already imagining it.

“oh, wait--” he frowns, hesitates. “that’s not what I meant.”

“what did you mean?” there’s a grin taking over my face, hopeful as I await his response. I guess we’re about to answer that question after all.

“I wanna finally take you on a date.” he smiles softly, surprisingly shy. I don’t even hesitate to answer.

“I’m in.”

[hxseok-honee]

blossom || part 12

blossom [part 12] || I'm happy being okay

[‘cause all i need is to see you blossom out, blossom out, blossom out]

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a/n : i have no idea who i love more!! hobi or yoongi!! no idea!!!

_______________________________

When Y/n wanders across the grounds later that morning, just past 7am, she’s checking her phone to make sure she’d read Hoseok’s text properly.

The forest? What the hell could we have to do there this early?

Convinced her sleep-deprived mind is playing tricks on her, she almost misses the head poking out from the treeline just ahead, followed by the body of a tall boy she’s come to be very familiar with.

“Y/n!” Squinting at the person with burning eyes, exhausted out of her mind, she finally sees that it’s Hoseok. He’s waving excitedly, arm stretched high over his head as he uses his whole body to beckon her over. He’s got a thermos in his free hand, which he holds out to her once she stumbles over to him. She takes it curiously, so he reaches out and uncaps it for her while he explains.

“I woke up this morning expecting to see you and Yoongi still passed out in the common room, but you were gone! And when I checked my phone, I saw you guys had stayed out instead of going back to Slytherin, so I figured you haven’t slept.” Pulling away with the cap in his hand, he points into the open container with a smile, so she peers into it. Hot steam billows out, followed by the smell of freshly brewed coffee. She looks up at him, a gesture of appreciation on the tip of her tongue, but he only waves her off.

“Not all of us can be energized by life -- some people are weak and require caffeine.” He grins impishly when she scoffs, the gratitude gone as she reaches out to nudge him with her elbow.

“Well, this weak human thanks you for supplying her with her daily fix.” Hoseok grins widely, his smile bright and pleased, and she’s amazed, as she tends to be, that he can be so infectiously happy all the time.

“Anything for you, Y/n -- besides, I need you awake and alert for today’s activities!” Lifting the thermos to her lips, she sips straight from the bottle, savoring the heat it brings her in the cold November morning. She doesn’t respond while she drinks, only raising an eyebrow questioningly at him. He lets out a small giggle, waving her into the forest as he heads back to the trees. She sees then that he’s got a backpack on, seemingly empty. She assumes it’s bottomless, one of the many everyday conveniences of being a wizard. Swallowing her coffee, she hums at his back while she follows.

“What are you hiding in there?” He glances at her over his shoulder with a shy smile.

“Patience, Miss Y/l/n.” Rolling her eyes with a smile, Y/n decides to just trust the sunny boy in front of her. While she follows behind him, she notices that she recognizes this path, an inkling that’s confirmed when they finally step into a clearing they’d only been in one other time. She gasps, the sound loud in the quiet morning, and Hoseok turns to walk backwards while he talks to her, his smile wide.

“I told you Wiggentrees grow fast, didn’t I?” Just there, in the middle of the clearing where they’d planted a seed not a few days prior, is the sapling of a tree, almost 4 feet high now. It’s clearly taken root, growing steadily in the bright, open space, the sun’s rays coming down prettily on it as it sways gently in the breeze. Hoseok watches with a fond smile as Y/n heads for it with wide eyes, passing him with a quick glance in his direction, her expression full of wonder.

“But we just planted it! It was just a little mound of dirt, like, 72 hours ago!” Hoseok nods, knowing she can’t see it.

“It’ll be fully grown probably within the week-- ah ah!” He steps in quickly when he sees her nearing it, hooking his fingers into the hood of her sweater and stopping her from getting any closer. She looks back at him in confusion, comically child-like as he holds her hood up behind her. “I know you love bowtruckles, but I promise they’re not as cute when they’re doing their job.” He gestures with his chin down at the ground around the tree sapling, and when she follows his eyes, she sees there are two little green heads poking out from the dirt, tiny eyes peering up at her cautiously. She lets out another quiet gasp, enamored by the little creatures.

“I didn’t even notice them… they usually have leaves sprouting out of their heads…” Hoseok releases Y/n while she talks, her voice nothing more than a whisper as she crouches to get a closer look at them. She hears Hoseok settling down on the ground beside her, and when she turns to him, he’s setting his bag in his lap and opening it. Reaching inside, he pulls out what looks like a metal breathmint container, small enough to fit in his palm.

Glancing up at her, he pats the ground next to him, an invitation. When she sits next to him, her back is straight and she’s got her hands in her lap, cradling the thermos of coffee as she looks at him attentively, waiting for him to direct their next move. It makes him smile sweetly, seeing her trust his expertise in herbology so fully. He hands her the container silently, explaining in a low voice when she looks at it curiously.

“I thought you might like to do the honors -- they’ll like you a lot more if you’re the one giving it to them… they might even remember you later on.” Popping the lid open, she sees that the mints once inside have clearly been eaten, the container kept for storing something else -- wood lice, to be exact. The small black insects squirm around inside, still alive, and Y/n can’t even begin to wonder how Hoseok had acquired them so fresh.

“How…”

“Growing up a plant nerd in a muggle household made it pretty easy for me to be fascinated by magical plants and their inhabitants once I got here… you wouldn’t believe how often I have to pick wood lice from the plants at my apartment when I go home.” Y/n blinks down at the little bugs before turning to Hoseok, a question about what he'd just said lingering on the tip of her tongue. He gestures to the two bowtruckles when they make eye contact, continuing the conversation before she can ask, and she wonders if he’d seen her curiosity and purposely avoided it. It seems distinctly unlike Jung Hoseok to hide something, but she lets it go when he starts talking.

“They’re still babies, by the way -- you were curious about not seeing the leaves on their heads… They’re still taking root, just like the tree…” He trails off, pointing to the container of wood lice in her hand. “But those are their favorite -- they’ll love you for sure if you give them that.” Glancing back down into the metal tin, Y/n smiles, finding it incredibly endearing that Hoseok had brought her out here just so she could befriend the bowtruckles.

Reaching out without a word, she tips the container slightly, letting the wood lice roll out onto the fresh dirt around the Wiggentree. The two baby bowtruckles had disappeared back underground in the time she and Hoseok had been talking, having apparently decided that these large humans were no threat to the tree as long as they stayed away. Now, they poke their heads back up, honing in on the meal laid out before them. Hoseok and Y/n watch quietly as they clamber out from beneath the dirt, crawling over to the wriggling lice and scooping them up in tiny arms. They return to their burrows to eat in peace, and Hoseok turns to Y/n while they wait, opening up his bag with excitement.

“So! I brought you out here to make evil stick bug friends, but I also thought it could be nice to do this, too.” Y/n watches with a sip of her coffee as he retrieves an entire wicker basket, contents covered with a damp paper towel. He sets it down next to her, smacking the back of her hand lightly with a playful glare when she tries to peek inside. “Patience, I said.”

Y/n rolls her eyes, unable to stop the smile that spreads across her face when she hears his quiet giggle, his joy truly infectious. He reaches back into the bag, setting out two pairs of scissors, a stack of twine, and a roll of thin, green tape. He does allow her to pick that up while he sets his bag down, explaining with a small smile.

“It’s floral tape… kinda like washi tape for flowers, I guess.” Y/n spins the roll around on her pointer finger, humming in contemplation as she puts the pieces together.

“So, you brought flower tape, flower wire, flower scissors, and--” She points at the covered basket with an inquisitive look. “--fresh flowers? Hopefully?” Hoseok smiles sheepishly, peeling the damp towel back from the basket, revealing a variety of flowers, all different types and colors.

“Welcome to the Jung Hoseok Flower Crown Process?” He waves his hands dramatically, but his voice is hesitant, like he’s unsure if she’ll even like this idea. It makes her smile, the fact that he’d gone out of his way to let her into this private part of his life even though he’s insecure about what she’ll think. Peering into the basket curiously, she picks out a small purple flower, twirling it between her thumb and pointer finger carefully.

“You know I won’t be able to do this as well as you do, right?” Hoseok smiles, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he sees that she’s clearly curious and not about to tell him she thinks this is dumb.

“Don’t worry about how it looks! It’s just… kind of like my puzzles, in a sense -- a good way to sit and not think for a while. It helps me process whatever's going on in my head without the actual... processing part.” He grabs the stack of twine, running a length of it into a circle between his fingers before snipping the end with scissors. Tying the ends together, he reaches out and sets the crown of wire experimentally on her hair, smiling when he sees that he’d guessed at the size of her head properly. “After the night you had, I figured we could either talk about it while we do this, or we could just do this and not talk about it… up to you.”

Y/n stares at Hoseok while he goes back to his twine, unrolling a bit more and snipping when he thinks he’s got the right size of his own head. When he ties it together and sets it on his hair, she snickers -- it’s too small, sitting on his head like a little hat instead of a crown. He breathes out an embarrassed laugh, the tips of his ears going red when she takes it from him, switching it out for her properly sized one.

“Allow me the privilege to make your tiny crown into a really ugly tiny crown?” He smiles at her request, nodding as he lays out some of the flowers on the ground before them.

“It would be my honor to wear your really ugly tiny crown.”

--

“Okay, and then you just twist it… around… like this-- okay no, not like that-- you know what? It’s perfect, Y/n. I love it.” Y/n groans loudly when Hoseok laughs, shaking his head at her poor recreation of his work. The crown he’s making is a perfect mix of purples and blues, some white flowers peeking through to create a nice winter arrangement. Hers is… not quite the same. The colors are there, but the flowers hang lamely off of the twine, very obviously not secured to the wire despite Hoseok’s best attempts to get her there.

It’s close to 9am by now, and they’ve been working at the flower crowns for almost an hour already -- there are two finished ones next to Hoseok, but Y/n’s still on her first, having started and restarted a million times to try and get it right. The baby bowtruckles sit perched on her shoulders, having decided not long ago that she was worthy of their affections after the meal of wood lice. They croon quietly, swaying in the wind as they watch her work -- she knows they’re not particularly engaged in her struggle, but she definitely feels like they’re judging her right now.

She watches as Hoseok ties up the ends of his third crown in an hour before offering the loose bits of flower in his palm to the bowtruckles. They lean in curiously, climbing into his hand and picking at the purple petals with small sounds of interest. He smiles down at them as he lifts his hand to Y/n’s shoulder, helping them return to their previous spots so they can examine their new possessions. Y/n watches him closely, not even realizing she’s staring until he’s meeting her eyes self-consciously.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/n blinks, biting at the inside of her lip with a shake of her head.

“Just wondering how I happened to meet someone as lovely as you.” Hoseok’s flushing red almost immediately at the unexpected compliment, and it makes Y/n laugh quietly. “You know, you can be pretty shy when you want to be, Hobi.” He purses his lips, twiddling his finished flower crown between his thumb and pointer finger as he thinks.

“I’m not really used to having friends… this is kind of the first time I’m doing any of… this, I guess.” He gestures vaguely to their setup, but Y/n notices that he’s mostly gesturing between the two of them, and she sees that by ‘this’, he’d meant them.

“How’d a guy like you go 7 years without making any close friends?” She curses herself as she asks -- she hadn’t meant to be insensitive, and she certainly hadn’t meant to word it like that. But Hoseok only smiles, his eyes taking on a faraway look as he stares down at his lap.

“It’s funny… that question used to bother me a lot. Especially first year.” Y/n groans internally, dropping her head to her chin in shame at her own idiocy. The bowtruckles let out quiet complaints, disgruntled by her sudden movement. Hoseok chuckles under his breath, reaching out and setting his finished crown on her head when she lifts it to eye him cautiously. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset. I just thought it was interesting.” He takes another pause, humming while he thinks about how to explain this to her.

“My life… has been remarkably unremarkable. I’m healthy, I study hard, and people generally like me without trying too hard to get close to me because I’m a little weird.” He lists these things as facts, even going so far as to tick them off on his fingers while he talks. Y/n finds herself disagreeing silently, thinking of no less than ten different things that make him undeniably remarkable. But she doesn’t say anything, letting him finish.

“It’s kind of a blessing in disguise -- no news is good news right? So, if there’s nothing important to say about me… then that means I’m doing enough to get by successfully. I’m okay where I’m at, and I’m okay whether I have people… or not.” Y/n furrows her brow, entirely confused by him.

“But being okay isn’t the same as being happy.” He blinks when she says it, not having expected the way her voice wavers, the way her eyes fill with an emotion he can’t place right away. If she’d been anyone else, he would have mistaken it for pity. But it’s not. She seems upset, like she’s frustrated that she’s trying her best to understand him and failing. It makes him smile -- no one’s ever tried that hard.

“What if I’m happy being okay?” He lets it slip out, fully aware that it’ll only upset her further -- how could it not? She’s so different than him, someone who isn’t satisfied just letting things happen around her. It’ll confuse her, the way he sees his own life, and he figures it won’t help to say what’s on his mind without explaining everything. Because she won’t understand unless he says everything.

But he doesn’t want to -- he doesn’t want to ruin the day they’re having, and if there’s something he’s come to know about Y/n Y/l/n in the time he’s known her, it’s that she cares. She cares about everything -- her friends, her feelings, and most recently, him. And he just doesn’t want to worry her, not today. So he smiles at her furrowed brow, setting a fingertip in between her eyebrows so that she’ll release them from their torture.

“Tell me about Yoongi.” Y/n blinks, taken aback by the sudden change of topic. He grins widely, eyes turning into little half moons as he laughs at her expression. She shakes her head, not sure where he’s taking this.

“What about Yoongi?” Hoseok leans over, plucking her admittedly bad flower crown from her hand and setting it on his head -- it’s somehow gotten smaller in the time she’d been working on it, pinching and squeezing at the twine. It sits on his hair like a little flowery top hat, but it makes her smile, so he leaves it there. Then he picks up a yellow flower and spins it in his fingers slowly, plucking all the petals off as he goes before offering them absentmindedly to the bowtruckles while he explains.

“Well -- you’re confused how I ended up here, a 7th year with only one good friend that didn’t show up in my life until 7th year--” Y/n smiles shyly, realizing he’s talking about her when he gives her a knowing look. “-- but what I’m confused about is you. We already established last night that you're his metaphorical safety blanket, and I wanna know how that happened. And how you ended up here, a 7th year Gryffindor whose best friend is a Slytherin… so tell me, Miss Y/l/n. How does a lion like you end up with a perpetually horny, unapologetically heinous snake of a best friend like Min Yoongi?”

Y/n smiles at Hoseok’s unflattering description -- painfully accurate, to be fair -- and thinks about Yoongi. She thinks about everything he’d said to her only hours prior, still drunk but feeling surprisingly emotional. He’d always been honest with her about everything that passes through his mind -- he does lack a filter, after all -- but he’d never brought up their friendship until then. None of it needed saying, really -- she’d always known what they are to each other, but it’s different knowing where his mind goes when he’s unsure of himself. It made her feel protective of him in a way that she can only guess he feels about her most of the time. So she doesn't feel right telling Hoseok what she means to Yoongi -- but she can say what he means to her.

“Min Yoongi… is everything to me.” Her lips are moving before her brain can catch up, but now that it’s there in the air between her and Hoseok, she knows she means it. “I think maybe that’s why I’m having such a hard time understanding that you’re happy being okay… that you’ve been perfectly happy not having someone the way I have Yoongi. I don’t get it because I wouldn’t be who I am if he hadn’t come around.” Hoseok tilts his head, somehow fascinated by her -- the way she says it, it’s obvious she’s been overcome with emotion. He figures these thoughts must be fresh -- that maybe she and Yoongi had had some moment of vulnerability that morning and he’d asked the wrong thing at the wrong time.

He'd only wanted to hear more about her life, something real, and it was clear she didn't want to discuss her ex-boyfriend. So he'd thought her best friend might be a safer topic, something he's not so sure about anymore. But she’s only smiling, almost laughing as a thought crosses her mind, and he thinks maybe he hasn’t just opened a fresh wound with his curiosity.

“The thing about Yoongi is… he’s an only child in a rich pureblood Slytherin family. He’s got the perfect life by all standards -- he gets everything he wants when he wants it, and he says what he’s thinking without caring how it’ll affect anyone because it doesn’t really matter to him. He’s spoiled beyond belief -- he’s arrogant, rude, cold. Some people hate his guts -- apparently, even our friends need a break from him sometimes… and I guess I get it. He can be really terrible sometimes…” Hoseok frowns, not seeing how this can be headed anywhere good -- she’d just spent a full minute insulting the guy. But she’s smiling again, peering down into her now-empty thermos with eyes full of affection.

“But he’s the best friend I’ve ever had. I’d do anything for that asshole, no questions asked.” Hoseok breathes out a laugh, unable to believe how quickly her tone had changed. “We had a class together first year -- it was Potions. And I remember feeling so awkward because I hadn’t gotten to know anyone in my house except Jungkook and Taehyung by that point, and their schedules didn’t match up with mine. So I was just sitting there alone in a room full of Slytherins and Gryffindors that had already paired up, and there were some snakes trying to gang up on me because I looked sad and lonely in the corner waiting for class to start.” Hoseok nods, but he simply can’t imagine a version of Y/n that would be anything but headstrong and sure of herself.

“Imagine my surprise when this… obnoxious, bratty Slytherin stands up from his seat with his stuff and just leaves his housemate to come sit next to me.” Y/n laughs under her breath, lifting a finger to one of the bowtruckles and smiling when it latches on, climbing into her palm peacefully while she thinks back to that day.

“He was so annoying, Hobi -- I wanted to smash his head in. He just kept bragging about his family and how cool he was and how much money he had. It seemed like he already had all of Slytherin hanging onto his every word, like they all wanted to be his friend. And then he just grabs me and goes ‘anyway, this is my new friend, so if you mess with her, you mess with me!’, and I just remember thinking… ‘Who is this dude and why do I want to punch him in the face?’

“And then he just kept showing up… he was everywhere, and I couldn’t seem to get rid of him. But it was weird… after a while, I didn’t want to get rid of him. He was just always there. And it started to get to the point where I didn’t feel right if he wasn’t. Because I’d stopped being shy and lonely when he was around, and I liked that feeling. I needed him. He was rude and annoying, and as we got older, he was horny and gross and always off hooking up with someone and then telling me about it in an unnecessary amount of detail.” She cringes, thinking back to the literal full-body nude photo she’d gotten last year, completely unsolicited. But rather than enrage her the way it had then, she’s only amused now -- because of course Min Yoongi would send her a nude without realizing how messed up that is. It’s just who he is.

“He’s probably the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met. But… I wasn’t myself if he wasn’t around, so never once did I think about what my life could be without him. I could never have become the Gryffindor that I am without the Slytherin that he is. So, yes -- everyone sees him as this gross, loud asshole with more confidence than anyone can handle because that’s exactly who he is. But… that’s not what I see at all. All I see is the person that made me who I am.” She trails off then, suddenly shy and very aware of Hoseok’s eyes on the side of her face.

“That was… a lot, wasn’t it?” Hoseok smiles, shaking his head.

“No… never. I loved hearing you talk about him. It makes me happy that you have someone like that in your life -- and it makes me feel grateful for him, oddly enough. I wouldn’t have met this version of you if it hadn’t been for him. And I quite like this version of you.” The ends of his ears are painted pink when he says it, but it’s nothing in comparison to the blush on Y/n’s face. She’s never met anyone quite like Jung Hoseok -- never been around anyone so unconditionally good -- but she can tell even now that he’s probably going to change everything. It certainly doesn’t help that, as she looks at him, the only thing that comes to mind is what Yoongi had said to her while they’d watched the sun rise not even 4 hours prior.

“I know this started as me being upset because you’ve been slacking on our best friend time, but… that Hoseok guy’s gonna be good for you -- I can tell.”

[lailannajacobs]

Heart of the Night

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky finds you after a mission that didn’t quite go as planned. 

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: lil bit angsty 

A/N: This is my submission for @wkemeup​​ 9k challenge, it’s not quite as edited as I would have liked but the end of the school year is always super busy so here it is! Congrats Kas, you are such an incredible writer, your talent absolutely blows my mind, it’s just unbelievable and I hope one day to have a tenth of your skill! You deserve everything great and more! <3

The needle trembled, metal glinting off the fluorescent light in your bathroom as it hovered just above the skin of your abdomen. The air reeked of copper. The pristine sink was marred with the dark red streaks of failure. You tried to swallow, but it felt like you were choking on your own throat. 

The needle approached the bloody canyon made by a knife you’d been too careless to avoid, and hovered there, trying to find its mark. The world swayed. You’d lost too much blood already. The needle clattered into the sink, black thread trialing behind it like a broken tether. You were somehow conscious — delirious? — enough to think you were lucky it hadn’t gone down the drain because you didn’t have time to call a plumber. Wait no. You’d just have to get a new one from the cabinet. You tried to reach for the needle. Your body didn’t react. Instead, it swayed dangerously, only your fighting instincts keeping you from tumbling to the floor by gripping onto the edge of the sink. At least there were some things blood could wash off from.

“YN!” that familiar voice burst into your apartment, “pool table. Five minutes. I swore to Sam that this was the day we finically beat Vision and his perfect calculations.”

You swore at the joyful ness in his voice. You couldn’t match that tone right now if you tried. But you had to. The mission had gone well. You’d done what you’d set out to do. Only you, the ever-present failure, had gotten yourself stabbed along the way. The only mercy was that no one else had noticed and you’d disappeared to your apartment without drawing suspicion. That was, until now if you couldn’t pull yourself together. You willed your body to close the bathroom door, but it wouldn’t move. If anything, everything only spun even more.

“Where the hell are...”

You felt his presence in your doorway. Felt his gaze like a physical thing. You were always aware of him. Even now was no exception. Maybe if you pretended he wasn’t there, he’d go away. Right. And the three-inch gash in your stomach would stitch itself up. You turned your head, not realizing how many abdominal muscles it took to look over your shoulder. Your pride and the death grip your slick fingers held on the porcelain were the only reasons the spinning didn't send you tumbling to the ground.

When your bathroom came into focus again, the only thing you really saw was Bucky taking up most of the doorway. And he was seething. His normally cool eyes were raging hurricanes, framed between hard lines of frustration on his face. They scanned you from top to bottom with deathly calm, from the sports bar you had on that exposed all your skin and the bruises you garnered during the mission to the sweatpants you’d changed into. An X-ray would have been less intrusive. You shivered. It was probably the blood loss.

You wanted to make up some excuse for your failure, but his anger was justified. You were a liability on the field. They were bound to have figured it out eventually.

He said nothing as he stalked over in a few brisk strides, fury emanating from him in waves. He stopped beside you, the pleasant smell of his freshly showered body chasing away the tang in the air. You closed your eyes. It was a coward’s move, but you’d take any peace you could get before everything you’d worked so hard to keep got taken away from you.

“Sit,” he ordered in a low, almost growly voice, “now.”

You went to sit on the toilet but tipped backward before you could make it. His arms gathered around you, easing you onto the closed seat. Your head lolled back and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“No.” He decided, “I need an explanation. Talk to me.”

It seemed like too much work. All you wanted to do was go to sleep.

“No,” he ordered as if you’d spoken the words aloud. Maybe you had.

You opened your eyes, caught in the crossfire of his icy stare, “Hydra agent during the extraction.”

“Shit,” he muttered.

The extraction of the French Prime Minister had been more than an hour ago. You should have been stitched up a long time ago. You should not have been dripping on the pale bathroom tiles.

“Surface wound,” you continued as professionally as your body would allow, knowing that even though you’d live, your failure was the reason for his fury, “came here. Was in the process of fixing it.”

“We have medics,” he growled, “what were you thinking?”

You didn’t answer. You weren’t about to tell him how your presence was a poison that would likely get them all killed eventually. Or that your constant mistakes were your own consequences to deal with — to fix. He probably knew that all ready. His question had to be rhetorical.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if he were trying to steady his anger. You stared at him, the winter soldier kneeling before you, his calloused hands still resting on your hips. He let out a sigh, his breath warm on your stomach.

“I should call for a medic,” he still hadn’t opened his eyes.

“Please don’t,” you whispered, “I can take care of my own mistakes.”

His lids snapped open, piercing blue eyes pinning you to the spot with their ice cold intensity. He was obviously still pissed. But he didn’t call for a medic. Instead, he got up, warm hands leaving behind nothing more than goosebumps and shivers — from the blood loss, of course— and picked up the needle.

“This is going to hurt,” he murmured once he was kneeling in front of you again.

You tried to nod, but the motion sent your vision spinning again and you gripped onto his shoulder for support, the metal sturdy beneath your grip.

He looked up into your eyes, “are you sure you want me to do this? It’ll leave a scar and it won’t be pretty.”

“It’s only fitting,” you coughed a laugh, “at least the outside will start looking like the inside.”

His brows furrowed but he didn’t say anything. He knew what you were. You were a mutant who somehow got the ‘gift’ of being able to make anything stop functioning. You could make plans fall apart. Kill a software program. Stop a body’s functioning. Even ruin a functioning team like the Avengers. With skill, you should have been one of their greatest assets, ruining everything that threatened the world. But your ‘gift’ extended to yourself as well. You ruined everything you touched. Even the good. Especially, it always seemed, the good.

He pierced your skin without warning, but you were glad for the pain. It gave you something else to focus on than the echoing thoughts of your failure. But Bucky was gentle. Despite the anger you knew must still be there, his movements were delicate and focused, hesitating whenever you winced or sucked in a breath.

By the time he tied the knot, you were surprised you were still upright. He might have been efficient, but you couldn’t tell if it had taken seconds, minutes or even hours. His hands cupped your face and eyes you hadn’t realized you’d closed fluttered open. He was so close now, his expression pinched with worry. You couldn’t help but wonder how it could be for you.

“I’m almost done,” he said softly, “but you’ll probably need a transfusion.”

Adrenaline kicked in. You couldn’t. He couldn’t. Not when you could barely keep your eyes open.

“Please don’t take me there,” you begged, “I can’t hurt anyone else.”

Your abilities rarely activated while you were asleep, but you wouldn’t risk the lives of the other patients or the doctors by going down to the medical wing. Years ago, when you’d realized what your abilities were, you’d stopped sleeping anywhere near anyone else. Now, hurt, there was an even greater chance you might lose control.

If you hadn’t been working so hard for consciousness, you would have also told Bucky to leave. But it wouldn’t have mattered. For some reason, he always stayed. Even when he was within the radius of your power. Even when you told him to go. Especially then. He always stayed.

“I won’t hurt anyone else,” you choked out, “I always hurt someone else.”

His thumb brushed across your cheek, “and yet you saved me today.”

You looked away from his burning gaze, your tears threatening to spill.

He continued, mercifully ignoring your watery eyes, “even though you were hurt you dropped that Hydra agent before he could shoot me in the back. We didn’t lose a single agent today, YN. That’s because you were there.”

“No,” you tried to shake your head, but his hands held on tightly, “they — you — saved yourselves. I got stabbed.”

“You got stabbed because you were busy watching everyone else’s back,” he growled, that earlier anger returning.

“I ruin things,” you repeated for what felt like the millionth time.

But it didn’t matter. He never seemed to believe you. But he needed to. You desperately needed him to before you ruined him too.

“Please leave,” you whimpered.

His answer was simple, “No.”

He took his hands back, but it was only to find some gauze to place over your cut. Once he was done, he scooped you up so gently the movement only hurt a lot instead of blinding pain and brought you to bed.

You gripped his shirt, fist balling up at the hem with all the strength you had left, “you need to leave, Bucky. Now.”

For some reason, the bastard smirked, “Someone has to make sure you don’t die in your sleep.”

“I’ll be fine,” you snapped, though it lacked any kind of force.

He didn’t look impressed, “If you were fine you wouldn’t be begging me to leave. You’d be downstairs with me and we’d be getting our asses handed to us by Vision and Sam like every other Thursday night.”

You wanted to protest. You wanted to protect him, but you had no fight left in you. And with the plush mattress calling you to sleep, the world went dark before you could figure out a way to get him to leave.

“All right Destructo, show me what you’ve got.”

You weren’t a fan of the nickname, but you weren’t about to tell the Tony Stark to shut up and use your real name. And anyways, as much as you hated using your abilities, and how you were always overcome by the tidal wave of fear that sent fear rolling like waves throughout your body, you always felt better — healthier even — after using them. And he was giving you free range now.

Eight suits surrounded you in a perfect octagon, hands out like they were ready to strike. Tony had somehow altered his suits so that they’d shoot bubbles — of all things — instead of small blasts and said you’d only be alive if you managed to take them all down before a single bubble came out.

A small grin unwittingly made its way onto your face.

“Glad to see you’re having fun,” Tony remarked, “it’ll come in handy for future testing. Ready?”

You nodded and ignored the bit about future testing. They might have thought they wanted you now but after they saw how much of a curse you really were, they weren’t going to keep you around long enough for future testing. You prayed that day wasn’t any time soon.

But you were ready now. That was until Tony’s voice crackled through the intercoms once more, “just make sure you don’t kill anyone of us in the process. I’d hate to miss Taco Tuesday.

You lifted your chin, “Give me thirty seconds with the enemies and you’ll have your taco.”

“Such confidence,” he remarked with a chuckle.

It was false bravado but you wanted this. You wanted out of your hell hole. So you weren’t about to let him see any of the very real fear that you actually might kill him. in the process.

You let out your power in a giant blast.

You bolted upright, gasping for breath. Black spots clouded your vision but you forced through the waves of dizziness, looking for the one person you couldn’t bear to hurt. He was supposed to have left. Your next breath never came. Bucky’s long limbs spilled over the edges of the chair in the opposite corner of the room, his phone resting on his chest. His eyes were closed, a peaceful look on his face but that didn’t mean anything. The dead often looked at peace.

Then his phone rose and fell with his chest. You held back a sob. Your relief would have sent you tumbling if you hadn’t been sitting. He was alive.

Without your blinding panic, the rest of your room came into focus. He’d left all the clothes you’d strewn over the chair in a neat, folded pile on your dresser. You glanced over at your alarm clock for the time, which was…off. Your dread clenched it’s fist around your stomach. It had been on. So had your air conditioning unit. And where was the constant hum of your ancient refrigerator?

“They’re all fried,” Bucky’s gruff voice came through the silence as if he’d actually been sleeping, “the phone gave a nice little shock when it died. Snapped me out of my sleep that’s for sure.”

Your heart was still trying to hammer its way out of your chest when you said, “You could have gotten hurt. I don’t know how you’re not.”

“I do,” he replied simply, eyes finding yours.

“No, you don’t,.” you shook your head more than you had to, “No, you can’t.”

“I can because I’ve trained with you almost every day since you got here. I know that your gift,” you scoffed at the word but he kept going, “your gift works differently depending on who and what you’re targeting. And I know you don’t target people. Not unless you have to and even then I see that it kills you to do it.”

You looked down at your sheets, hating the way his words resonated through your body, refusing to go away. But you could still ignore it.

“That might be true, but Tony has been making his suits to withstand me. In case I can’t control my powers and they hurt anyone on our side. He might say it’s in case we meet another mutant with powers like mine, but we all know that’s not true.”

“Why can’t it be both?” he huffed then took in a slow breath. It did nothing to hide the growl in his voice when he asked, “None of us are perfect, why do you have to be?”

Because, even as a full grown adult, you were afraid you’d somehow end up back in that orphanage, unloved and unwanted because all you did was ruin things. And you didn’t know what you’d do if you ruined the closest thing you’d ever had to family. Perfect kept you here. Perfect kept you safe.

He stood from the chair, and came to kneel beside your bed. He brushed aside the hair that had stuck to your forehead with sweat, calloused fingers resting gently on your cheek when he was done.

“You’re one of us now” he whispered as if he could read your mind, “and I — we — won’t let you go that easily not matter what you think of your abilities. Even if that means I have to inspect you for cuts and bruises myself after every mission. You are good, YN.”

You could only nod, taken aback by the ferocity in his voice. Still, it didn’t stop you from looking him over head to toe once more just to make sure he was okay. Then you noticed something off with him.

“Where’s your arm?”

He ran his hand through his hair, a sheepish look on his face, “it might have fallen off a few seconds before you woke up.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach, “I hurt you.”

He shook his head fiercely, “you didn’t. I’m fine.”

“But I could have,” you protested.

“But you didn’t,” he said, “you never do. Because despite what you might think, you control this thing inside you and we all trust you with it.”

You were about to object but he stopped you by pressing a light kiss to your forehead, and when he pulled back there was that lopsided little grin on his face that made you realize how light headed you were feeling, “one day we’ll get to a place where you���ll find this funny. I promise.”

And somehow, you believed him.

[fantasy2739]

Jamie Prompt: Nightmares during an overnight trip so one of the teammates or multiple hear and help him. OR they find old bruises/scars from his dad's abuse. Just want to see the effects of the abuse and the team seeing those effects/helping him.

Hahahaha angst my favourite.

Gonna be honest not sure I nailed this.

Enjoy!

They just won a match against Nottingham Forest. It was a brutal match. City Ground was filled with jeers and cheers from both sides. Probably inspired by the horrific loss at Wembley. Richard nearly got taken out by one of the Nottingham players, Dani had received a dubious yellow, Sam was covered in more scrapes and bruises than should be possible, and Jamie had gone full prick without even waiting for a signal. It was a shit match. Roy grumbled the whole way back to the hotel how they were probably going to have to flee in the dead of night. Jamie just feels like shit. They should be happy. They won. Jamie thinks it’s because maybe some of the insults got a bit too personal. Maybe because at half time after one of the players had shoved Jamie and called him a pussy, the whole team had shot him looks of concern. Jamie had ignored the looks, the pounding of his heart and tried to listen to Ted. Maybe because it was just a shit match. The point is Jamie feels like shit.

“Movie night?” Ted asks, lightly, like he wouldn’t mind if they said no. There were nods, murmurs of agreement, because none of them wanted to go out really. They all cram into a big room and settle in for a movie. The choice is given to Ted, who always seems to nail the film choice. He puts on My Neighbour Totoro, probably because it’s all cute and shit. Jamie’s got to admit, it’s pretty hard to stay angry watching some fluffy thing be stupidly cuddly and friendly. It’s just a nice movie. He’s a bit apart from everyone else, half curled onto a pillow he nabbed from his room. He’s dead sleepy. If he closes his eyes just a little, it’ll be fine.

It fucking isn’t.

Jamie’s had nightmares for years. They’re pretty fucking consistent actually. His fears haven’t really changed from childhood. The same man appears. The same insults. Injuries. Pain and memories swirl into one.

Years of experience have ingrained it in his mind and body to not be loud. The vulnerability that comes with sleep keeps his mind in a state of stress. He’s never been a heavy sleeper. Too wary of footsteps in the night. If he wakes the sleeping horror in his house he knows he’s in for worse. Apparently though, he moves, a lot. And whimpers. It’s pathetic really. He’s an adult. He shouldn’t be fucking like this. He’s always in motion anyway, so it occurring in his sleep doesn’t seem like a big deal. The odd twitch is probably ignored. The violent twisting, whimpers, and arms raised in defence are not.

He’s not sure how long he’s out but there’s hands on his shoulders as he almost bolts upright. He nearly takes Isaac out. Jamie’s breathing heavily. He wrenches himself from Isaac’s grip, hands on him too much to bare.

“You alright bruv?” Isaac asks, almost gentle. Jamie just nods, not trusting his voice to come out strong.

“The fuck you are.” Roy growls. Jamie can’t help the way his body tenses. Can’t stop the way his eyes flit around in panic.

“Jamie.” Someone says hesitantly. It’s Sam, crouching down next to him. “Are you sure you are alright?” Jamie’s eyes slowly make their way to Sam.

“Yeah, fine mate.” Jamie manages, glad he sounds tired rather than scared. “Just tired yeah.” That’s enough for some of the team who drift away slightly. But Sam stays crouching next to him. Isaac barely moves from his spot almost directly above Jamie. Roy slumps in a chair slightly away, most likely because of his knee. Dani has a frown marring his face, Zoreaux appears to be debating the benefits of crowding Jamie with the others, Richard cocking his head at him almost thoughtfully. Jan is fixing Jamie with a look reminiscent of an x-ray, while Bumbercatch is chewing on his lip in apprehension. Colin is sitting right behind Jamie, face almost carefully blank.

“You were making strange noises.” Jan says bluntly. There’s lots of way Jamie could reply. He could crack a sex joke, ease the awful tension. Brush it off as not important. Instead he shrugs.

“So?” He asks. He’s not a fan of the looks exchanged between his teammates.

“You sounded like you were… having a nightmare.” Sam says cautiously. Jamie scoffs like that’s complete bullshit. Like he didn’t just have exactly that. It’s stupid to act like this. But that childhood fear of pissing someone off remains forever present.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Colin asks softly. Jamie hates it. They’re treating him like one wrong word will make him shatter. He’s not fucking soft.

“I’m fine.” He insists. He’s getting really tired of the looks.

“It’s okay to have nightmares man.” Bumbercatch interjects. “It’s not like embarrassing.” Fuck no it is. It’s shitty, embarrassing, frustrating, and probably many other words.

“Talking about these things usually helps.” Sam offers quietly.

“Don’t worry amigo, we won’t judge you.” Dani says, Jamie just wishes he’d smile. Dani not smiling feels like a sign of the apocalypse.

“We’re here bruv.” Isaac adds.

“Was it the dickbag?” Roy asks with a low growl. It doesn’t exactly narrow it down. The Nottingham fans? The Nottingham players? His dad? Jamie shrugs again.

“I’m just gonna go to bed yeah.” He tells them, twisting away slightly. He almost trips getting to his feet, Zoreaux reaches to steady him. He flinches, hating himself slightly. He grabs his pillow and tries to leave again. Roy stands up to block him.

“Was it James?” He asks, voice lowering. Like it’s just him and Jamie in the room. “Look Jamie if you need to talk about what that dick did to you-.”

“I don’t.” Jamie says quickly. “I don’t need to talk about him.” There’s a tension in the room that you could cut with a knife.

“We didn’t talk after Wembley.” Roy says, clearly remembering how Jamie had just shut everyone off when anyone asked. “Let us fucking help you.”

“Is your father always terrible to you?” Jan asks bluntly. Jamie’s eyes shoot daggers at him.

“None of your fucking business.” He snarls. Internally he cringes, thinking it sounds too much like James. Jan merely raises an eyebrow.

“Jamie if he hurt you when you were younger then maybe you should talk about it.” Sam offers. Like bringing up the past is going to make things better. Like talking ever fucking helps. Jamie wants to scream.

“So he beat the shit out of me when I was a kid. So he was a useless fucking parent. ” Jamie snaps, tears prickling at his eyes. The open looks of horror on some of his teammates faces makes him cringe. He can’t stop though, can’t just leave it as is. “He’s my fucking problem.”

“Fucking hell Jamie, he shouldn’t have done that.” Roy growls. Richard grumbles something in French that Zoreaux nods in agreement with. It’s sounds angry and Jamie’s pretty sure he hears the name James muttered.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jamie insists.

“Of course it matters.” Sam replies. “You matter.” He probably shouldn’t scoff but Jamie can’t help it.

“Jamie, do we need to talk?” Roy asks, voice low. Jamie drops his pillow and flings his arms up.

“Fuck sake can’t we just drop it yeah? My dads a dick. We all know that.” He snaps. If the conversation continues he knows he’s going to cry. He’s going to sob like a little kid, fucking embarrassing. Roy steps closer, making Jamie shrink back. He wants to disappear into the ground. There’s nervous eyes all around.

“Let us help you amigo.” Dani says. “We are a team yes?” He offers Jamie a small smile. Jamie wishes he was yelling. Or that someone was angry, mad. Any fucking negative emotion. He knows how to deal with those. Instead everyone insists on huddling round him, offering support, caring about him.

His dad isn’t here but he can hear him calling him soft.

“It’s not… I don’t…” Jamie struggles to find the words. The ones that won’t make him cry and get everyone to leave him alone. “I just want to go to bed.”

“No way bruv.” Isaac shakes his head. “Not until you talk to us.”

“It’ll just be quicker if you do.” Colin says with a shrug, his face soft as he looks at Jamie. Jamie shoves his hands into his hoodie and blinks hard. ��Otherwise we’ll just hound you til you break and tell us anyway.” Jamie stares at his team, that are standing round him like they’re worried he’s going to break if they get too far away.

“We won’t judge you.” Zoreaux says. “We just want to help.” Jamie is weak. He’s weak to them caring, with sad eyes, horrid glances. He doesn’t deserve a team ready to catch him when he falls but he’s lucky. He takes a deep breath.

“I’ve had nightmares for years.” He mumbles. “Bout him. I don’t… I’m not gonna talk about what they’re like about.” The team is nodding in understanding. “I just get so scared. And it’s stupid. I fucking hate it. I hate it so much.” Jamie sniffles, Sam and Dani move closer, both offering comfort. Jamie moves slightly out of reach, dropping onto his pillow and pulling his legs to his chest. “I don’t wanna talk about him.” It’s said into his legs but he knows they hear him. He hears a horrible cracking sound as Roy sits next to him. An arm snakes it’s way around his shoulders, he can’t help but tense. He feels someone else sit on his other side.

“Puppy pile.” He hears Bumbercatch say and suddenly there’s nine grown men leaning on him as he’s pushed close to the floor. Jamie’s pretty sure Isaac is behind him playing pillow, Colin’s on his left shoulder. Sam is on his left leg and so is Dani. Bumbercatch is somehow across both legs. Roy is looming by his right shoulder. Zoreaux is half resting on Jamie, half on Roy. Richard has managed to curl up practically on Jamie’s stomach. Jan is somewhere around his knee.

“Fuck Richard, ease up a bit.” Jamie grumbles. “I can’t breathe.”

“No.” Richard says sweetly even as he adjusts a bit so that Jamie’s lungs can actually work.

“Bro you have really bony ankles.” Bumbercatch says.

“Fuck off.” Jamie mumbles. He twists slightly, leaning into the collar of Roy’s jacket. He feels safe in the pile of people. Jan complains that he is too much person to be forced into such a cramped position. Colin cracks a joke about being too much person to handle. They’re giggling a little, letting Jamie feel at ease.

The nightmares stay away for once.

[anabsolutetrainwreck]

but we’re still young || h. styles

warnings: mentions of alcohol, references to alcoholism, swearing, brief mentions of death, sexual references, discussions of infertility, googled medical diagnoses, breakup, references to covid, not really proofread

word count: 7.2k

summary: anecdotes of a relationship destined to collapse...

01 march, 2013

“Just talk to her, man!” Liam yelled over the deafening music of the club. Harry sighed, his eyes drifting between the drink in his hands and you. You were dancing with your friends, laughing as the skinny girl tripped over her own feet. Snapping his eyes away from you, he glanced across at Liam, “Bit creepy, though, isn’t it?”

“You have been staring at her for the past five minutes. That’s creepier than just talking to her,” Liam shrugged, patting Harry on the back. 

The band had been given the night off. Finally. Collectively, they’d all decided to go out together. That’s not to say they would be staying out too late, though - they had an early start the next morning. “Yeah, man,” came Niall’s voice. “Just go buy her a drink or something.”

“No,” Louis said quickly, arriving at the bar with Zayn. “Don’t do that. They’d rather you just spoke to them than try and buy them a drink. It makes it seem like you’re trying to get them drunk and, you know…”

Harry finished the rest of his drink, running a hand through his hair. Zayn glanced between him and the exit to the club, “Harry, mate, maybe you shouldn’t. If somebody sees you talking to a girl and leaks it to the press-”

“Well, then they’re a dickhead,” Liam said. “It’s your life, Hazza. Worth a shot, right?”

Zayn sighed, “Yeah, they’re a dickhead. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be her who faces the consequences for talking to you. You know what they’re like whenever we talk to a girl.”

“Too late,” Niall said quickly, gesturing over to the three girls walking over to the bar. One of the girls was considerably drunker than the others, both of them having to support her. The five boys tried to be subtle as they carefully watched you and your friend sit the drunker one down at the booth by the bar. They could just about hear your conversation over the music. After all, you weren’t sat all that far away. “Jesus, Eileen,” you sighed, examining your giggling friend. “What did you drink?”

“I think we should take her home,” your other friend said. 

“No!” Eileen protested. “We’re having so much fun!”

“You’re so drunk,” the other one laughed at Eileen and your frustrated expression. 

“You know me, Nelly, I love a good vodka and coke!” Eileen grinned. “Once I have one, I can’t stop.”

“Have you considered therapy?” Nelly joked. “An AA meeting, maybe?”

You scoffed, slumping back against the padded fabric of the booth. Brushing the loose strands of Eileen’s hair out of her face, you wrapped her jacket around her bare arms. “Come on,” you sighed, “let’s go home.”

You and Nelly carefully lifted Eileen up from the seat to guide her out of the club. The cold London air was refreshing against your flushed cheeks. Yes, you may have been slightly tipsy, but you were nowhere near as bad as Eileen. Besides, Nelly was entirely sober. The only thing she’d drunk that night was a glass of lemonade. She wasn’t much of a drinker. She’d have a glass of wine at fancy dinners and that was usually the extent of it. 

Back inside the sweaty club, Harry was beginning to regret not saying a thing to you at all. He’d watched you leave the club with your friends and he suddenly just wanted to go home. “Tough luck, mate,” Louis sighed, smiling sadly at the deflated boy before him. 

Fortunately for Harry, he noticed something on the table of the booth you’d just been sat at. It was a set of keys. He quickly snatched them up and ran out after you. There was hope for him yet. He ran down the street after you. Thankfully, due to Eileen’s stumbling, you’d yet to get too far. “Excuse me!” he called. “Excuse me, I think you dropped your keys!”

It was you who turned back to look at him. His arm was outstretched, the keys between his fingers. You thanked him as he dropped them into your hand. Once he straightened his back from being hunched over, trying to catch his breath, and his face became illuminated by a streetlamp, did you realise who he was. Harry Styles. You didn’t say anything, though. You assumed he probably got enough of people telling him who he was on the daily that he wouldn’t need an extra one from you. He reached out to shake your other hand, “I’m Harry.”

“I know,” you smiled. “Y/N.”

He grinned. Y/N. He knew your name. Your hand was soft against his. You were wearing this black dress, or maybe it was blue. It was too dark to tell. Your lips were red, maybe pink. You smelt of strawberries. “I think you look really pretty,” he said, thankful it was so dark to hide the red tint that graced his cheeks. 

You smiled politely, trying to ignore the sniggering of Nelly and Eileen from behind you. “Thank you, Harry.”

He nodded, unsure what to say next. But he knew he couldn’t let this opportunity slip from his grasp. “Can I have your number?” he asked, already knowing what the answer would be. Of course you weren’t going to just give him your number. 

You shrugged, “I don’t even know you.”

That wasn’t necessarily true. Your younger brother had given you a full debrief on the members of One Direction last time you’d gone back home to visit your family. He’d made sure not to miss a single detail. So, yes, you did know him. Not personally, of course. But it felt personal. He hung his head, “Yeah. Of course. Why would you trust me?”

You knew he wasn’t saying it in an aggressive or sarcastic way. Really, why would you trust him? You sighed, “You’re famous?”

It was a joke. You were joking. And it took him a split second to laugh. Well, he chuckled, really. “I’ll give you my number if you write a song about me,” you smirked. Again, you were kind of joking. And yet, he nodded. 

“Deal.”

20 november, 2013

And write a song about you he did. You found yourself tangled up in the sheets of his bed five days before his third studio album was set to be released. Two months you’d been together now, and they’d been perhaps the happiest of your life. Running your fingers delicately through his mop of hair, smiling contently as he closed his eyes in utter bliss. It should have been sunny outside, the golden rays practically pouring in through the windows of his flat. But alas, it was pouring with bitter rain. “I have to go soon,” he grumbled, nuzzling his tired face into your waist, wrapping his lethargic arms around your thighs. 

You nodded, sighing, “I know, baby.”

“So much fucking press,” he groaned, forcing his eyes open. “Same fucking questions. What’s your favourite off the album? Who is this one written about? Are you single? Everyone’s in love with you, how does that feel?”

You smiled down at him softly, “Good thing you love talking about yourself then, isn’t it?”

He grinned, “Exactly. Just wish they’d ask something novel and somewhat fucking entertaining. Podcast or songs in the shower? Would you ever become a classical composer? Hardback or paperback?”

“What, and ‘podcast or songs in the shower’ is novel and somewhat fucking entertaining,” you couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, a real exclusive for the journalists.”

He chuckled, dragging himself out of bed. He slipped into the bathroom, emerging in no time at all dressed in a t-shirt and some jeans. Unplugging his phone, he pressed his lips to yours. “I’ll see you later,” he said.

You threw the covers from your body, following him through the flat. Harry grabbed one of his coats, before hugging you tightly. “I love you.”

You pulled away quickly, staring up at him, eyes wide, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I guess I do.”

“I guess I love you too.”

When he returned, it was dark. You were lying in his bed, your eyelids heavy. He crept in, kissing you lightly. “I wrote a song about you,” he whispered. 

You smiled up at him weakly, “You did? You kept your end of the bargain.”

He nodded. And so, he played it for you. You were curled up in his bedsheets, listening to a song a guy had written about you. And it was pretty fucking good. “When did you write it?” you asked as it came to an end.

“A few nights after we met. Do you like it?” he asked nervously.

You nodded, grabbing his face to kiss him, “I love it. What’s it called?”

“Little Black Dress.”

07 january, 2014

Months passed. And every single one seemed to get better than the last. It felt as if you were high, right up in the clouds, every waking moment. But you were nervous. Your fingers were practically shaking. However, as soon as Anne opened the door to greet you both with her warming smile, the nerves just seemed to disappear. Vanish. She hugged you first, squeezing you tightly as if she’d know you all her life. She hugged Harry next, hurrying you both in. 

The house was warm and cosy and oh so welcoming. There were pictures on the wall of Harry and Gemma as kids and some of Anne and Robin on their wedding day. You couldn’t help but smile at them. Harry noticed you admiring the snapshots of history that had been framed and hung up on the wall. “Cute, wasn’t I?” he joked, squeezing your hand. 

You shrugged, “Not as cute as Gemma.”

You had met Gemma before. You’d gone out to dinner with her and Harry when he decided he wanted you to meet his family. She was lovely and too kind to you. But this was your first time meeting Anne and Robin. Their warm smiles and kind words did nothing but make you feel at home. 

After chatting for a while, they let you and Harry get settled in. You’d be staying for a couple of days before heading back down to London. He showed you around his childhood bedroom, which did nothing but fill you with joy. “Nothing’s changed,” he smiled, eyes exploring the room that still made him feel like a kid again. “I love coming back. Brings me back down to earth, you know? Back to home. I know it’ll always be here, no matter where I go.”

“That’s poetic,” you said. His lips curved up slightly and when he pressed his lips to your head lightly, you couldn’t help but smile too. It almost felt illegal to be so innocently intimate in his childhood bedroom, filled with long-forgotten memories of a life once lived. 

Later, as the sun set over the house that you already felt so welcomed in, you found yourself sat beside Harry in the kitchen. You’d become acquainted with the cats that inhabited the home and Anne’s gorgeous cooking. As Anne and Robin got to know you, you made sure to ask plenty of questions about them. The smile that adorned your face throughout the evening and the following days never seemed to fade or die away. And, by the end of your stay at Harry’s childhood home, you felt as if you’d known Anne and Robin all your life. As if you’d known the walls of the house all your life. And the pictures of youthful ignorances and watercolours of distant landscapes. And the cats that purred loudly as they ran their head along your legs the last thing before you slept and the first thing before you woke. 

And you were sure you could revel in the feeling of warm, welcoming homeliness of the home and the family for the rest of your life.

12 october, 2014

Nelly had looked truly ravishing on her wedding day. The white dress was an unusual contrast to her jeans and sweaters. You were convinced there was nothing she couldn’t pull off. Harry had been hanging off your arm all evening, like a lost toddler. He’d acted like one too, making comments about being tired and his feet hurting all day. You paid no mind to him, though. This was Nelly’s day and she was your friend and you wanted to be there to support her. You’d known the girl since your first day of secondary school when you were both a mere eleven years old. 

Eileen plopped herself down beside you, her eyes exploring the faces that were lost on her in the large hall. Everybody was mingling now, catching up with people they hadn’t seen since 2010. Her presence pulled you away from your hushed conversation with Harry. “I don’t even know who half of these people are,” Eileen sighed. 

“That’s how it usually goes at weddings,” Harry replied, taking a sip of the provided champagne, slumping back in his chair slightly. 

“Like, who even is that?” she sighed, gesturing subtly to an elderly man stood with Nelly and her mother. 

You sighed, “That’s her granddad.”

“Oh,” Eileen said. “Are you sure? I thought her granddad died last year.”

“No, that was my granddad,” you chuckled. “That’s Nelly’s Granddad Joe.”

“If you say so,” she sighed, finishing the rest of her gin and tonic. “They all look the same to me. White hair, wrinkly.”

Harry stifled a snort at Eileen’s nonchalant tone. You patted her shoulder lightly, also amused. Eileen had a habit of growing very tired of boring occasions very quickly. It had happened numerous times before and it always cracked you up. She started up again, “I never mind the actual ceremony, like that’s somewhat interesting. It’s the mingling I can’t stand. We’ve been here for two hours, Nelly’s already married, why do people care about this stuff so much?”

“Because it’s nice to catch up with people,” you replied. 

She lay her head down on your shoulder tiredly, “That’s what Facebook is for.”

Harry chuckled, “Well, she isn’t wrong.”

You tried so hard not to sigh so loudly, but it still came out louder than you perhaps would have liked, “Will you two at least pretend to give a shit? Eileen, this is our best friend getting married and you don’t care. We’ve known her for ten years, liven up. Harry, this is my friend and I want to celebrate with her. Just suck it up and deal with it. We’ll go soon.”

You were quite literally dealing with toddlers. You looked up when Nelly finally came and sat down at the table you’d been huddled around. She finished what was left of her drink and threw her head back. “I’m so tired,” she sighed. Even the bride was beginning to act like a two-year-old. 

“I can imagine,” you offered her your best smile. “So, how does it feel to be married?”

“Relieving,” she explained. “But somewhat anticlimactic. My feet hurt and I’m sick of having to say hello to every single aunt, uncle, cousin, nephew, niece. Just to get told ‘oh, I never thought I’d see our Nelly get married’ or ‘my, haven’t you grown’? Yes, Linda, I have. Because it’s been seven years since you’ve last seen me, I’m not thirteen anymore.”

The three of you exchanged amused glances at Nelly’s grumbling. She was throwing her arms about, staring down at the white tablecloth that had a big wine stain in it. Your mother had knocked over her wine when explaining to Harry how much of a teacher’s pet you were in school. Obviously, you had to interject and explain that caring about grades didn’t equal a teacher’s pet. “Oh, you never thought you’d see your Nelly get married, did you? Well, maybe that’s because gay marriage was only legalised last year. Fucking disgusting,” Nelly went on.

Eileen quickly held up her hand, “Please, we’ve heard this rant before.”

Nelly sighed, glancing boredly at Eileen. You all sat in peaceful silence for a moment, comforted by the feeling of Harry’s large hand on your leg. When your mother finally came over, telling you she was heading off, you decided it was time for your departure too. So, congratulating Nelly and her new wife, Emma, on their marriage and beautiful ceremony and bidding farewell to those you were sure you wouldn’t see again until 2016, you and Harry ventured back to your little flat. 

Once you were showered and out of the dress you felt so beautiful in, you tumbled into bed, happy to finally have those heels off. Harry’s suit was stranded across your bedroom floor in little piles of shirt and trouser and sock. “Can I perform at our wedding?” he asked, turning to look at you as you lay your head back against the inviting softness of your pillow. 

His question and casual tone is what awoke all the life in you. You didn’t sit up dramatically and make a scene about it. You merely rolled over to face him directly, smiling softly at him, “Who said we’ll be getting married?”

He shrugged, “I think it’d be quite nice if we did one day.”

“Maybe,” you hummed, finding a wonderful level of contentment in the discussion of the future with Harry. “But you’re not performing at it.”

He chuckled, “Why not? Me and the boys. The lads and I. A bit of Up All Night? Some more recent stuff? Come on, Y/N, you’d love it.”

“Not when my new husband is singing with his little boyband.”

Hearing you refer to Harry as your ‘new husband’ certainly made him light up inside. And his head was suddenly filled with all sorts of fantasies of what it would be like to wake up beside you every day. To come home from a long day and order food in because neither of you could be bothered to cook. To get your first pet together, probably name it after a character in a show you were presently obsessed with. To raise a family together. To fight through the sleepless nights of infancy, but knowing it would all be worth it because, at the end of the day, he knew you’d always be there. Just as he’d always be there for you. 

And he smiled, because he knew this was where he wanted to stay for as long as he can. With you. 

15 may, 2015

It felt different waking up under the sun in Italy. Same sun, just… different. It was Italian. It was glorious. Perhaps it was the peacefulness of not having management drag Harry out of bed in the early hours of the morning. Perhaps it was the refreshing release of the pressures of university coursework. Perhaps it was the mere fact that you were completely alone with nobody to interrupt you. 

Harry’s hair was splayed out across the cool silk pillows that rested quite perfectly on the bed you wished belonged to you. His tattooed arms were slung lazily over your body and the thin sheets had been kicked to the bottom of the bed in your sleep. It was something about being on holiday that always made you tired, despite doing nothing but reading or lounging about in the sun or splashing about in the pool. 

He was snoring quietly, still sleeping soundly. You were happy, though, staring out the large floor-to-ceiling windows that replaced a wall of the bedroom in the villa you were staying at. It opened up onto the pool and had a simply marvellous view of the blue sea. It was a short walk into town, but you and Harry had made a point of exploring it all within the first three days so you could spend the rest of your overdue holiday cuddled up together in the sunlight.

When Harry stirred, his tired eyes still full of sleep, you finally sat up. He wrapped his arms around your waist, trying to pull you back down. You laughed, trying desperately to pry his fingers off your skin. “I’m getting up now,” you said happily. 

“Don’t,” he grumbled, closing his sleepy eyes again. “Why get up when we can stay here forever?”

“Why stay here forever when we’re literally in Italy and there’s a pool outside?” you countered. 

“But why go swim in the pool when we did that yesterday?”

You shook your head at him, laughing. You pulled yourself away from the bed that could only be described as heavenly. He watched you leave, smiling away to himself. Was this what it felt like to be in love?

Carrying a bowl of fresh strawberries, you wandered out into the garden of the villa. Soon enough, Harry joined you in his yellow shorts. Of course there had been paparazzi pictures of you and Harry exploring Amalfi, hands clasped together tightly. But, for once, you paid no mind to them. Usually, you found it hard not to stare at the pictures of you and Harry for hours, picking apart all the pixelated details of your face and body. You would be lying if you said it didn’t take a toll on you mentally. But, when you were able to turn your phone off for a week and just enjoy the world around you, it left you feeling refreshed and cleansed. 

Harry sat himself down by the side of the pool, letting his legs swing between the cool ripples of water. He lay his head back, letting his eyes flutter shut. No words were exchanged, for none were needed. You were both in silent agreement that this was where you wanted to go when you died. 

When you finished your strawberries and your lips and fingertips smelt suitably like them, you clambered up from the bench and slipped quietly into the pool. The water was contrastingly cold compared to the sun that beat down relentlessly but perfectly. You swam towards Harry, interlacing your strawberry-scented fingers with his own. He looked down at you, smiling brightly at the sight of such. “I love you,” he whispered. 

You grinned, “I love you too.”

“I’d call it more of an unhealthy obsession with me,” he replied, shrugging jokingly.

You scoffed, “If anyone has an unhealthy obsession with someone, it’s you. Let’s go to Italy, you said, you can finish your uni coursework later. You begged me to come here with you.”

He smirked down at you, “Begged? You seemed pretty eager to me.”

“Well, you never have been very observant,” you joked, squeezing his hands tightly, before dragging him into the pool with you. 

When he finally resurfaced, brushing his long hair out of his green eyes, he reached out to grasp you. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your body submerged in the water. Placing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose, he held you as if he was scared you were going to be pulled away from him. As if was the last time he would ever get to feel your skin against his own. “When we go home,” he whispered, “move in with me.”

You lay your head against his shoulder, softly closing your eyes. All you needed was the sound of his light breathing and the increased beating of his heart as he waited for any kind of indication of a response from you. “Yeah, okay,” you replied, equally as quiet.

You didn’t want to make a deal about moving in with Harry. The setting wasn’t right. You were holding each other tightly in the pool of an Italian villa in Amalfi, the world around you warm and serene. So, you agreed gently, buzzing violently inside at the prospect of all the adventures you and Harry could get up to living together.  

02 july, 2016

You’d lived in Harry’s flat for a month before you both decided to buy your own house. It was a lovely home in Chelsea that you and Harry had simply fallen in love with when you first saw it. It felt perfect in the sunlight and in the pouring rain. But, as you both returned from going out for drinks after your university graduation ceremony, you were quickly irritated by the half-painted walls and flat-pack furniture. 

A week or two prior to your graduation ceremony, you had both been sat at the island in the kitchen, when you both decided that you wanted to renovate the house. Maybe replace the grey walls in the living room with a forest green and swap out the black and white furniture for navys and mustards. The modern style of the house had been nice at first, but it quickly began to feel like less of a home and more of an office building. So, you decided to change it up a bit.

Harry recently got back from America after finishing some last-minute shoots on the new Christopher Nolan film he’d been cast in. While you’d visited him once when he was shooting in Dunkirk, you still felt eternally grateful to have him back home. And, while you could sit and hear him talk about what it was like working with Christopher Nolan and the likes of Tom Hardy and Kenneth Branagh, you grew increasingly stressed about graduating and renovating the house. But now the graduation was over and you were officially free of education. The renovation was well underway and you were actively seeking a job with your English literature degree. “Thank God that’s over,” you sighed, sitting down at the kitchen island after pouring yourself a glass of chocolate milk. “Finally free of the tiresome shackles that are higher education.”

He snorted at you, “I’m proud of you. Just think, you were only in your first year at university when we first met.”

You couldn’t help but smile. So much had changed in the last three years of your life. You were sat with your boyfriend, who had just come back from shooting a movie, in the kitchen of your own house in Chelsea, London having just come back from your university graduation ceremony. One of your closest friends was married and had been happily for coming up to two years. The other had just got herself into a relationship after ranting to you about how she wanted to stay single forever countless times before. Life was good and you were content in where you were for your age. Who wouldn’t be? You’d just broken into your 20s and were about to enter the brutal world of careers. “I miss your long hair,” you said suddenly, pouting slightly at the sight of Harry without his hair you’d grown so used to. 

“I don’t. Dries so much quicker after showers,” he said. “Stays out of my face when I’m doing stuff. Doesn’t get knotted so easily. So many perks to shorter hair.”

“But you looked so hot with it,” you said, mocking a sad tone.

He smiled, “Don’t I look hot now?”

You shrugged, “You always look hot. Just less hair to grab now.”

His cheeks flushed and you couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re so cheeky sometimes!”

“Just speaking the truth, your honour,” you raised your hands in surrender. “What shall we order in for dinner?”

“Up to you, it’s your day after all,” he smiled. “I’m just going for a shower, so just order me whatever.”

As he got up, he pressed his lips to yours briefly as he walked past, squeezing your shoulder. It was the domesticity of it that made you fall in love with him more and more. Late nights binging crappy tv shows and early morning leftovers and the moment of realisation that you’d forgotten to water the plants by the kitchen window. It was what you’d imagined the entire time you’d been with Harry. All of these hypotheticals that you had stored away in your mind were now your simply marvellous reality.

10 may, 2017

The topic of children had been brought up a few times before. You’d both agreed that you wanted them one day. Mid-twenties maybe, 25 or 26? You’d been together since you were both nineteen, but you were still young. That’s not to say that if you happened to fall pregnant now you’d be entirely opposed to becoming parents. Your house had long been finished and you had a decent job and Harry had his debut album and his film coming out. 

But presently, you found yourself sat on the sofa, listening to Harry’s completed album. Anne was sat beside you, silently absorbing the masterpiece that her son had crafted. As Two Ghosts slowly became Sweet Creature, you felt yourself tear up, only to look over and find Anne in floods of tears. You knew, as you listened intently to the lyrics, it was Harry’s way of assuring you it was going to be okay. You didn’t need to worry about starting a family yet. You didn’t need to worry about arguing with him. It would all be okay in the end. 

As the final note of From the Dining Table echoed across your living room, it was safe to say you and Anne were both desperate to hear it all again. Harry Styles being unapologetically himself was something you would be eternally proud of him for. 

21 july, 2017

Maybe if you hadn’t gone to the Dunkirk premiere on Harry’s arm, you wouldn’t be feeling so uneasy. You were there to look nice and give the newspapers something to talk about the next morning. Always something about ‘HARRY STYLES AND LONG TERM GIRLFRIEND Y/N Y/L/N AT DUNKIRK PREMIERE’ which would be full of meaningless facts about your relationship, your education and career and family, who styled the two of you. Of course, you were excited to see Harry in a project he’d put so much life into and you were so proud of him. But it was when you and Harry were being interviewed that you began to feel uncomfortable. 

It had started off fine with questions about what prompted Harry to star in a film, what it was like working with Christopher Nolan, that sort of thing. But, as usual, the interviewers managed to make smooth transitions into Harry’s personal life. “Y/N, you and Harry have been together since 2013, how does it feel to see him succeed on such a global scale?” one asked. 

Your gaze shifted between Harry and the camera behind the interviewer, “Well, he’s happy, isn’t he? And, as long as he’s happy, I’ll always be proud of him.”

He couldn’t help but smile to himself at your answer, as did the interviewer, who knew they were getting some good footage. It wasn’t often you did publicity things. Obviously, you would have to be in certain places with Harry to spark some news articles, which were completely set up by Harry’s management. You didn’t mind that so much. But being asked about yourself and your relationship was something you didn’t like all that much. You’d go live on Instagram sometimes and you would get a couple of questions about Harry, which you were usually happy to answer. And if you felt uncomfortable answering them, you could just pretend you hadn’t seen it. But in real-life interviews, there was no escaping them and the hole the camera burnt into you. “So, you two have obviously been together for nearly five years,” another began, “is there any possibility of children in your future?”

Harry had been getting the kids question since he turned twenty, but this one seemed to make him flinch slightly. Maybe it was the recent tension you’d both been feeling about starting a family. Were you ready? Weren’t you? Should you get a home that wasn’t so central first? All these questions that neither of you knew the answers to. Maybe it was the recent loss of Harry’s stepfather and the ripple that had caused within the family. “I think we should get a cat before we have a child,” was your reply, your tone joking and your smile friendly, but your answer serious. 

Harry chuckled, “I think we’re both still quite young and we’re both committed to our careers, so having a child right now would just be illogical and impractical. I think it’s healthy to focus on ourselves and our relationship for a few years more.”

But that wasn’t the last question about parenthood. And with each one, you began to feel the pressure of society to start a family more and more. It was actually such a relief to get into the cinema, sit down and just enjoy the film. When you finally got home and up into bed, you had to roll over and voice your thoughts to Harry. “Should we have a baby?” you asked quietly.

“Not if you’re not ready,” he replied in a hushed tone as if he’d been expecting you to bring such a topic up. And, truth be told, he had. He had watched your eyebrows furrow more every time you were asked about kids and your tone become an increasingly stronger mix of shakiness and aggressiveness. 

“Everyone expects us to, Harry,” you said. 

“Well, they’re not in our relationship. It’s your body, love, when you want a kid, we’ll have a kid.”

09 january, 2019

One year ago, you and Harry had decided to start trying for a baby. You had both reached a point in your lives where you were happy and comfortable. You decided it was the perfect time to start expanding your quiet little home. Neither of you were to know the stress that would come in the following months. 

It had been a year. A year and not even a single sign of pregnancy. None of your periods were significantly late, you never felt the urge to throw up in the morning. No weird cravings, no weight gain. 

You were round at Nelly’s house with Eileen. Her wife, Emma, was out for the day so Nelly had invited the two of you round. Six episodes deep into the latest craze of television, the three of you found more interest in conversation. “How’s Harry?” Eileen asked after she’d finished telling you about the new dog she and her boyfriend, Charlie, had adopted. 

You sighed. You didn’t want to lie and say he was fine; that the two of you were fine. Because you weren’t. Every single negative pregnancy test resulted in an extra argument, more pressure and stress and lots more guilt on both ends. “Yeah, yeah, he’s good. We’re good,” you said. 

“You’re such a liar,” Nelly laughed. “Tell us what’s wrong.”

Taking a deep breath, you prepared to explain everything to your friends. From the pressures of the media to the failure to conceive. The two girls sat and listened in silence, absorbing the piles of information you were presenting them with. And, when you were finally finished, Eileen said, “Maybe you should go to the doctors about that. If it’s been a year and you still aren’t pregnant, it might be something they can fix… you know, cure.”

“I’d rather not know if there’s something wrong with me,” you grumbled. 

“I think you would. It would be better to know, right? As Eileen said, it might be something they have some pills for,” Nelly said.

“They have pills for everything,” you sighed. “But fine, I’ll go to the doctors. Only if you come with me.”

“Of course,” Nelly smiled softly as Eileen leaned over to squeeze your trembling hand. “Are you going to tell Harry?”

“I’ll tell him if something happens. If they say it’s nothing, then he doesn’t need to know,” you said quietly. 

Nelly and Eileen exchanged a silent glance, before Eileen said, “It’s been a year, Y/N. It must be something.”

17 january, 2019

You sat nervously opposite the doctor. Your knee was bouncing and your heart rate can’t have been healthy. You had gotten up early, leaving Harry asleep in bed, to come and collect your results from the doctor. She smiled softly at you and it definitely made you feel more comfortable. “So, Y/N. Your results came back and it appears you have Diminished Ovarian Reserve, or DOR. Basically, you have a lower number or quality of eggs, which makes it harder to reproduce. Essentially, you don’t have as much reproductive potential left within your ovaries.”

Her words quickly became a ringing noise rooted deep within your ears. Your eyes fell from her own and found the horrible carpet on the floor far more comforting. You were alone now and you were beginning to wish you’d brought one of the girls or your mother or even Harry. “I-is there any kind of treatment?” you asked. 

She leant back in her chair slightly, interlocking her hands on her lap, “We can prescribe some supplements, which will hopefully increase fertility. But if you want a child, there’s always adoption or we can even try IVF. It’s up to you, Y/N.”

You nodded, grabbing your coat from the chair beside you and slipping your arms into it. You thanked her quickly, taking the supplements and leaving. Everything seemed to pass you by in a blur. It took you a long time to collect your thoughts. And, as you reached your front door, it hit you that you were to blame for the lack of positive pregnancy tests. It was your eggs that were fucking it all up. You might even have a baby right now if it weren’t for you. You took a moment to wipe away the tears that were falling freely from your eyes. You rested your head against the front door before finally pushing your way through. 

Harry was sat at the piano in the corner of the living room. He was still in his pyjamas and there was a glass of half-drunken orange juice on the coffee table. He didn’t turn to look at you when he heard you enter, he just said, “Morning, love. Where have you been? You weren’t here when I woke up.”

He was busy scribbling in his notebook to take any real interest in your whereabouts. This was the problem with the hole you and Harry had dug yourselves trying to conceive: nobody cared anymore. He didn’t care where you went or how you were. He didn’t care how your mother was. You didn’t care about how his day was. You didn’t care how his friends were getting on.  Nobody cared anymore and it was driving you insane. “The doctors,” you said firmly, standing in the doorframe of the living room, waiting for him to turn around. To face you. To fucking look you in the eye and not be a coward for once in his life.

But alas, he didn’t. He kept his eyes trained on the scribbles of lyrics, “Oh yeah? How was it?”

“Shit,” you snapped. “It was fucking shit. I can’t have kids. We can’t have kids. If you cared to know.”

“How come?” he asked, his back paying you more attention than his eyes. 

“Because, Harry, I’m fucking infertile. Okay? I’m infertile. I have Diminished Ovarian Reserve. So, we can’t have kids, so there’s no point in even trying anymore.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “We can try again later.”

He wasn’t listening. He didn’t know what you were talking about. You finally snapped in that moment. You’d had enough of living like this. “Why are we trying, Harry?” you asked, the tears you’d tried so hard to hide resurfacing.

“Because I thought you wanted kids,” he replied. 

“No, Harry. Why are we trying? With us. Neither of us cares about the other, we’re both miserable. You’d rather be anywhere but here. And I can’t stand this house any longer. We’re both fucking miserable so why are we still trying? Why are we still fighting for this? Why are we still fighting for a relationship that died months ago?”

He turned to look at you. The scribbling had stopped. The tinkering on the piano had stopped. He was silent. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say to that, so he didn’t think about it, “I am happy, love. Can’t you see?”

You shook your head, stepping back, “No, you’re not. You’re angry at me and you’ll only blame me because I can’t give us children. I need to leave, Harry.”

“What? Y/N, wait,” he said, but you’d already marched up the stairs to your bedroom. He knew you were packing your things up and what you couldn’t pack you’d come back for later. He knew he couldn’t stop you from leaving. He knew he’d be wrong for trying. Maybe you were right, maybe he was miserable, but he still loved you. God, he was so fucking in love with you. And now he was watching the girl he’d loved since he first laid eyes on her dancing in that club with her friends in 2013 walk out of his life. 

When you came back down the stairs, some bags thrown over your shoulder, you stood in the doorway to get a final glimpse of him. He looked up, meeting your eyes. Your pretty eyes. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. But he knew you weren’t apologising for the outburst. He knew you weren’t going to come crying into his arms and apologise profusely. He knew he wouldn’t have the chance to explain that they could work through it together. As they always had done before. 

“Me too,” he said quietly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And you were gone. You did love him. You felt obliged to tell him so. But you needed to leave. You were being strangled in that relationship, in that house. And you knew he was too. You’d grown to resent each other, but you were sure you would love him forever.

13 april, 2021

The baby gurgled loudly, clasping your hair between his fingers. You smiled down at the little miracle in your arms. He was only six months old. But what a little bundle of joy he was. You looked up at the sight of Eileen emerging from the shop, tucking her mask into her pocket, “Thanks for taking care of him.”

You handed him back to his mother. You had swiftly agreed to look after baby Oliver while Eileen ducked into a shop to buy Charlie his birthday present. You both wandered through the hot streets of London, patrolling the fresh fruit market that radiated a vast variety of marvellous scents. Oliver was asleep, the sun making him tired. You liked the little world you’d built up for yourself since 2019. You were a couple of years older with a flat of your own, with plants you still forget to water. And yet, you couldn’t help the prideful smile that took over your features when you heard that Harry had won a Grammy. Any bitterness you’d felt for him soon dissipated. It was your fault for the collapse of your relationship as much as it was his. 

But, when you saw Harry Styles purchasing some fresh strawberries just a few metres away, it all came flooding back. A tsunami of forgotten memories. You felt like a young and innocent university student who fell in love too quickly again. Maybe that was the reason you approached him. As he turned to leave the stand, his eyes connected with yours. You smiled softly, “Hi, Harry.”

[winterscaptain]

figure it out.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: this has been in my wips for literal months as i’ve done my best to get it just right for yall. i hope you enjoy it, and tell me what you think! There’s an addendum to this one, and i’m already working on it, but we’ll see a few more things before that’s ready :)

words: 3.5k warnings: sex mention, sex implication, language

summary: “love is like a backache. it doesn’t show up on an x-ray, but you know it’s there.” - george burns. au!january 2012. 

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

You roll over in bed when your alarm goes off, but you don’t get very far. Aaron throws an arm over you and pulls you back to him with a grumble. 

You huff a laugh and wiggle up against him. It’s all a tease and you both know it - there isn’t any time to get up to anything fun before work, but it’s far too entertaining to rile him up.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” His voice escapes his lips between your shoulder blades and you can feel his smile. 

“Oh, trust me, babe. I can finish.” 

He hums, his smile breaking out into something real. “I noticed.” 

+++

When the two of you finally make it out of bed (surprisingly still on time), you grab one of Aaron’s scarves and a hat on your way out. It’s your turn to drop Jack at school today on your way into the office, and the task serves two purposes. 

The first? It’s nice to spend time with Jack, just the two of you, when it’s your turn and you’re not on a case. It’s the same for Aaron, who always leaves a little earlier so he and Jack can sit down somewhere and have breakfast together.

The second is pure logistics. You two can’t show up to work in the same car at the same time, so a convenient excuse to separate and stagger your arrivals is welcome. 

“Really?” 

Aaron’s question stops you at the threshold and you look over your shoulder “What?” 

“My hat? My scarf?” 

It’s almost too tempting to cave when he’s looking at you like that - his tie hanging around his neck, shirt untucked, arms crossed, and playful frown hiding a smile. 

“Yeah. It’s warm and it’s here and we’re late.” 

Jack squints up at you and says, “We’re not late.”

“You’re not late.”

The observations come within split seconds of each other and you laugh. 

“Fine. Not late, but warm. And you have more hats.” You scamper back into the house to plant a kiss on his lips, smoothing the hair at his temples. 

Jack’s laughter is the underscore to your next quip. “You’re very handsome and I’m sure you’re very smart so you can figure it out.” 

“Yeah, Dad,” Jack chirps. “Figure it out.”

He has nothing to say to your retreating forms as he catches a glimpse of your smile through the crack in the closing door.

+++

Emily and Spencer are away at a conference-book-signing thing, so it’s just the five of you and Penelope this morning. You’d normally figure that would be Rossi’s purview, but apparently - 

“My book-signing days have been put on hold indefinitely in favor of -”

“ - He’s back.” Garcia interrupts, tossing case files at all of you. The conversation is cut short and you suppress a smile. “The Marin headlands last night.” 

You can see Aaron’s lips pull as well. 

It’s the little things. 

Penelope gestures with the notes and crime scene photos appear on the screen. “David Atley and Nicole Puli, both 24, both grad students at Berkeley, shot multiple times in their vehicle-- wait for it--” She clicks again and a familiar sigil appears. 

“The Zodiac?” Morgan’s shock is almost sardonic in its delivery. 

Rossi snorts. “No way.”

“Come on,” Derek says, amused, while JJ chimes in as well. 

 “It's gotta be the 2.0 version.”

While neither of you speak, you share a glance with Aaron. You’re kidding. 

He only raises his eyebrows for a split second and shrugs. 

There’s some part of you a little paranoid that you’re the most obvious couple to exist in the history of the universe. Sure, the team has been teasing you about your friendship for years, the will-the-won’t-they of it all, but now that it’s real you’re almost terrified that they know everything. 

Thus, the overcompensation has been wretched. You and Aaron barely look at each other in the field if you can help it (which you usually can’t) and he tends to put you with Derek more often than not. 

In truth, the others have noticed, but are far too interested in the spectacle to say anything. Emily’s almost certain the two of you have slept together, and Dave may or may not have suggested the possibility of a secret marriage during your period of suspension. 

However far-fetched and ridiculous their theories, they know you two well enough to know that something happened. The tension is gone. 

Derek almost finds himself missing the tension. There hasn’t been much to tease you about lately in its absence. 

“Yeah, you would think so, except for the crazy similarities in the MO.” Penelope clicks through the photos as she talks. 

“I'm talking same victimology, same geography. And,” she adds. “Two souvenirs were left at the crime scene.” She clicks once more and stands back for the full effect. 

“He left a photo?” Rossi asks.

She hums in the affirmative. “Local police say that is Marcia Miller. She was found near Napa in 1971. Strongly suspected that she was a victim of the Zodiac, but police never confirmed it and they didn't publicize the case.” 

Morgan’s still squinting at the screen. “So the Zodiac took this photo at the killing and then saved it all these years?”

“The Zodiac's last confirmed victim was the cabdriver Paul Stine,” Dave notes devolving into a conversation about The Zodiac, his timeline, his signature. 

It’s nothing new - The Zodiac Killer’s case details are common knowledge in your line of work, nevermind the sheer number of copycats that try their hand at the highly-ritualistic murders before inevitably getting arrested. 

There’s a reason this guy hasn’t been caught in forty years. 

After a few minutes of bouncing between you all, Hotch pushes back from the table and stands. “Have Reid and Prentiss meet us in San Francisco. Wheels up in 30.”

He heads straight to his office to collect his things and you swing in by the tips of your fingers for just a second. “You wanna call Jess or do you want me to?” 

In the middle of throwing files in his briefcase, he doesn’t look up when he answers. “Can you, please? I was supposed to meet with Strauss this afternoon and need to stop by her office before wheels up.” 

You smile at him, tapping the door frame twice. “You got it.” 

+++

It’s boots on the ground right away when you land in San Francisco. You drive to the crime scene with Aaron in the passenger seat beside you and JJ in the back. The radio’s on, and you sing under your breath, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you make your way up to the crime scene. 

Before you get to the local FBI agents, JJ catches you by the sleeve. “It’s nice to have music in the car again.” 

You just smile at her. Aaron looks a little puzzled. 

The three of you wipe the looks off your faces by the time you get to Agent Lynn. 

+++

“What did JJ mean?” Aaron asks you. 

The two of you are alone for the time being, posted up in the conference room with the old Zodiac case files. You look up. “Hmm?” 

“What did she mean when she mentioned the music earlier?” 

“Oh.” A little flush of embarrassment shoots down your gut. “Derek pointed out to me last summer that I didn’t play any music in the car.” 

...while you were gone is the thing you don’t say, but he knows that’s what you mean. 

“I didn’t really notice.” You shrug to cover your fib. “I guess I’ve reacquainted myself with the radio in the last couple of weeks.” 

Aaron hums, returning to his work. Something’s off, but you’re sure it’ll come up later. 

+++

“You don’t think it’s really him, do you?” You ask, unbuttoning your shirt and throwing your pajamas on. 

Surprisingly, this case seems to be one of those that allows for sleep at regular hours. For that, you’re grateful. It’s much harder to find time to wind down with Aaron at the end of the day when you’re all forced to sleep in shifts. 

Aaron shakes his head, “No, I think Reid’s right. We’re looking at a particularly sophisticated copycat.” 

“Isn’t that kind of worse?” Hopping up on your bed, you curl up and look at him over your nose - a clear invitation to join you. 

With a huff down his nose and a little smile, he flops down beside you and props his chin on his arms over your belly. “Could be. Luckily, we have Reid.” 

You almost think he’s going to say something else, but he gets that pensive look on his face again. 

“What?” 

With a sigh, he says, “I’m just thinking about what JJ said.” 

“Oh, Aaron -” 

He doesn’t let you finish. It’s probably a good thing. You didn’t know what you wanted to say anyway. 

“I knew how hard it was on me, but I’m realizing more and more how hard it was on you, too.” He shakes his head. “I feel ...I don’t know. I feel like I should have known better… or something.” 

Winding your fingers in his hair, you sit in silence for a moment. He doesn’t have anything more to say and eventually he crawls up your body and settles in under your arm, his head on your chest and legs wound between yours.

Sometimes, you’ve found, he likes to feel small.  

“You’re safe and you’re home. That’s what matters.” You kiss the top of his head. “And I love you.” 

He hums, arcing into your touch and wrapping an arm around your waist. “I love you.” 

+++

You spend much of the next day chasing Spencer around the city, keeping notes handy (for yourself, not for him - he doesn't need them) and reporting back on his discoveries to the team like some kind of overwrought and hyper-trained secretary. 

Stepping off to the side, you answer a call from Aaron. 

“Hit your limit yet?” 

You look over at Spencer, who’s flipping through a newspaper like a man on a mission. “It’s actually kind of entertaining.” 

And that’s actually true. Watching Spencer push the limits of his intelligence is always a treat - it happens so rarely you almost forget how much you enjoy it every time. 

He huffs into the phone. “Hang in there. We’ll all meet back at the precinct once Reid’s done -”

“Doing magic?” 

“Exactly. Keep me posted.” There’s a pause. It’s an odd little habit you two developed in the field to leave space for the words you can’t say in front of the others. 

I love you.

“Me too.” 

+++

You’re almost asleep when a sliver of yellow light shoots across your room, promptly disappearing as the door to the hallway closes. 

He pads across the room and slips under the covers. “Hi.” 

A little smile crosses your face as you roll over to face him. “Hi.”

Before you can say anything else, his hands are on you and he’s half on top of you as he captures your lips. 

Needless to say, the lack of sleep is worth it. 

+++

Emily, long after she and Aaron are the only ones left in the precinct conference room, squints as she notices something right under his collar. 

He’s already loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt, no longer standing on ceremony now that all the local police have retired and the rest of the team gone up to their hotel rooms. There’s not much to do, but the compulsion to get ahead for tomorrow is one neither one of them can shake. 

What Aaron failed to remember when executing his wardrobe adjustment was the rather...spirited romp in your room the night prior. The little purple swatches painted on his skin just under the line of his collar stood out stark against the crisp lines of his dress shirt. 

Fortunately for you, there was no way in hell the rest of the team would find anything he left on you last night. 

Emily reaches into her purse and pulls out a tube of concealer and a powder compact. Though he’s more olive-toned than she is, it’ll be good enough in a pinch. “Hey, Hotch.” 

He looks at her over his nose, his eyes tired. 

“You might want this for tomorrow morning.” She pushes the crisis control kit across the table to him, but he only frowns and deepens his squint. 

By way of explanation, she reaches across the table and presses the tip of her finger into one of the visible bruises in the hollow of his throat. He flinches, freezes, and then immediately drops his head into his hands. 

It’s easy to say Emily is amused in the extreme. “Those look...really fresh.” 

He shakes his head, insisting as he picks up a file at random, “They’re from before we left.” 

It’s only because it’s Emily that he’s even humoring this conversation. 

“No they’re not.” She sticks her tongue firmly in her cheek. “These ones are though.” She points at yellowing marks on his collarbone and he smacks her hands away. 

“And I know what fresh hickies look like, Hotch. Those are fresh fresh. Like, last night fresh. And we’ve been here for four days.” She frowns, tracking back through the day. “When on earth would you have time to -” 

A series of images flash through her head, random wayward connections flashing together in an alarmingly clear picture.

You, avoiding her at the office back in September with quickly-covered marks painted across your neck.

You, flirting with Sean and having way too much fun doing it, looking over his shoulder at ...someone else.

Hotch, in a perpetually good mood (for him, anyway, and despite looking ill-slept) for the last five months. 

The way the mistletoe kiss at Dave’s Christmas party looked way too easy, too familiar. 

And now, the obvious indicators that Hotch is not only getting it, he’s getting it good. 

If he got those last night…

Wait. 

Their hotel rooms are right next to …

Oh my God. 

Hotch watches the realization flash across Emily’s face, and he knows you’re both busted. Instead of losing her shit like he expected, Emily just leans back in her chair - smug. 

“So. Are you still Not the Boyfriend, or has there been an update?”

He sighs. 

The corner of her mouth tips up. “How long?”

“For which part? The not-boyfriend part, the boyfriend part, or this part?” He gestures vaguely to the space behind his tie, and Emily snorts. 

“Just spill it.” 

Holding up a finger, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, dialing the first number on his speed dial. 

You’re hardly asleep, sitting up in bed waiting for him with a case file in your lap, when you get the call. You’re not sure who’s listening, so a “Hey, Hotch. What’s up?” will have to do. 

“Emily knows.” 

You straighten. “How?”

“Doesn’t matter. She knows.” 

There’s a scramble, and suddenly Emily’s on the other end of the phone. “He’s got very questionable and very fresh bruises just under his collar. Care to explain?”

There’s another shuffle. 

“Ignore her,” Aaron says. With a hand pressed to your forehead, you understand the question implicit in his phone call. 

“Just tell her. It’s basically her fault, anyways. If she hadn’t ditched it then we’d have our heads up our asses for another five years.”

“Alright,” then, after a second of realizing you don’t sound sleepy at all, “Go to bed.”

“I’m in bed.” 

He rolls his eyes. Emily can only look on with amusement, gleeful in the extreme. “You know that’s not what I mean. Go to sleep.”

“Alright, alright. Fine.” You reluctantly close the casefile and put him on speaker so he can hear the light click off. “I’m going to sleep.” Then, “I love you. Come up soon.”

“Okay.” He shoots a glance at Emily. Because he’ll never hear the end of it anyway, more ammo won’t hurt at this point. “I love you too. Now, really. Go to slee -”

You hang up on him. He double-takes at his phone for a moment before shoving it back in his pocket. 

He’s met with Emily’s surprisingly moved eyes. “You’re...okay.”

What she means is, You’re happy. 

He knows. 

He nods. “I’m okay.”

She puts her files down and leans forward, resting her elbows on the table and lacing her fingers. “Tell me.” 

So, he does. 

He tells her about the way you stuck to him like glue through the divorce, the way you wiggled your way into Haley’s heart, captured the love of his son, and earned the trust of his entire family. 

He tells her what Haley said in the hospital, the tenacious care you showed his unyielding and unwilling ass when he was healing, the way your grief soothed his in the wake of Haley’s loss. 

He tells her about the moments of euphoria in the years of want and doubt and fear. 

He tells Emily about the day she died, how there was nothing more painful than that necessary lie. He tells her how easy it was to lie to the others, how it ripped him in half to lie to you. 

He tells her about the day he left for Pakistan, about the fight the night before, the kiss he pressed to your cheek on the tarmac, the endless, wretched nights missing you in the desert. 

He tells her about the fight when he finally came home, skims over the following days, jumps and meanders around to Christmas, to moving in, to the bliss that now seems to follow him wherever he goes. 

Emily watches the smile that plays at his mouth when he talks about you, the softness in his eyes as recalls the look on your face and the words you said and the way you are with Jack. There’s a kind of peace in him that she’s never really seen before. 

Maybe, she imagines, it was there before she met him (the second time). Maybe this peace existed with Haley. Maybe this is the most she’s ever heard him speak at once. Maybe it makes her smile. 

Maybe this peace is what his love looks like. 

If that’s the case, she thinks, you are very lucky indeed. 

It could have been hours, it could have been minutes, but at some point he stops talking. 

“Hotch?” 

He looks over at her, the softness lingering in his eyes. 

“I’m really happy for you.” 

His lips twitch. “Thanks.” 

“And you know it’s my God-given right to tell everyone else once this case is over, right?”

+++

You actually are asleep by the time Aaron gets back to the hotel. He leans against the wall in the dark with his hands in his pockets, enjoying the peace before the inevitable shitshow. 

He crosses the room and crouches at your side, running the back of his fingers over your cheek. You stir, sleepy noises leaving your throat as your eyes crack open. 

“Aaron?”

“Yeah. Just me.” 

You smile a little and close your eyes again. “How’d she take it?”

“Remarkably well.” He kisses your forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“No,” you whine, drawn-out and slurred. “Don’t leave. Stay. I set an alarm.”

With a resigned sigh, he strips and slides into bed behind you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you close. 

+++

You and Aaron sit on proverbial pins and needles for the rest of the case, but Emily keeps her word. The only indication of her knowledge came the morning after her chat with Aaron, when she pulled you to her and hugged you so tight you could hardly breathe. 

She seizes her moment on the plane, about halfway home. 

“Derek, you owe me fifty bucks.” 

She hardly looks up from her book as she speaks. 

He takes off his headphones and wrinkles his brow. “What?”

She repeats herself, slower, as if she was speaking to a child. “You. Owe. Me. Fifty. Bucks.”

“...Why?” 

Emily finally looks up from her book to pointedly stare at you and Aaron, seated next to each other and sharing a bag of Goldfish you stole from Jack’s snack drawer. You’re both reading from the same file, absently reaching for crackers as you go along. 

Derek’s confusion continues to smother his face until it finally clicks in. 

He steals a page from Reid’s notebook and balls it up, tossing it across the plane and breaking your concentration. You look up, only a little startled, to find a face-splitting grin blinding you across the cabin.

Derek’s small ruckus has drawn the attention of the rest of the team - well, all except JJ, who’s fast asleep on the couch. 

There seems to be a collective sigh of relief as money exchanges hands. You’re not quite sure what the bet was, but Emily seems to have won handily. 

Aaron takes your hand under the table, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

It doesn’t. 

Everyone simply returns to their tasks, little smiles on their faces. 

+++

tagging: @quillvine @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygrangerwriting @ssaic-jareau @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @arthurmorrgans @the-falling-in-the-danger @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @kerrswriting @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw @deagibs @crazyshannonigans @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos

[doubleleoenergy]

v. Blinding Lights, The Princess and the Pogue Series

I've been on my own for long enough. Maybe you can show me how to love, maybe.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of drug use, mentions of addiction, mentions of suicide, mentions of drinking, swearing

Summary: The events from the weekend bring JJ and y/n closer.

Words: 1820

Notes: I apologize for this coming out this morning, I fell asleep on my laptop last night editing so...here it is!

The first rays of morning light hit JJ’s window, sending beams across the room and onto his face. He groaned instinctively, covering his head with a pillow, a slight headache from the night before lingering and making him groggy.

He was aware of his actions from the night before, and did he regret them? Absolutely. He knew he fucked up with Y/N, bad, but he also couldn’t help it. He had never been in a long-term relationship before, he’d never let things get farther than a casual hookup before with anyone. Ad he had never actually liked a woman long enough to see potential with her, not until he had met y/n. Well, not that they did or did not have potential, that was all up to the game of life. And an apology would be necessary if they were to move forward with even a friendship at that point.

JJ rolled out of bed and onto his feet, his door creaking as he opened it up and peaked around the hallway. John B’s door was completely open, with him and Sarah nowhere in sight. That was probably for the best, he knew if they were there, he would just feel too prideful to apologize.

Stepping out into the hallway, he walked out and into the living room, finding y/n sound asleep on the couch still. The sun shined through the windows, covering her body in a warm beacon of light. She looked angelic, and she was. Y/N was everything JJ felt he didn’t deserve in a woman, and he still had no idea why she even hung out with a Pogue like him.

He leaned back against the wall, admiring the way her body was curled up, her lips slightly parted and her tangled hair framing her face. She was still dressed in her clothes from the night before, having passed out on the couch soon after they’d arrived at the Château. JJ kept his gaze on her for a few more minutes until her eyes fluttered open, blinking away the sunlight and rolling onto her back.

It took her a moment to realize JJ standing there, the hurt from the night before resurfacing as she covered her eyelids with the cool palms of her hands. “Take a picture, JJ, it’ll last longer.” She commented. JJ finally removing himself from the wall where he was leaning, moving over to take a seat to her left beside her on the couch. She immediately rolled onto her right side, facing away from him.

“C’mon, princess, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He teased, resting his head against the back of the couch. She groaned at the nickname, pulling the blanket over her head.

“Actually, I can. You can fuck right off, JJ Maybank.”

Her tone made JJ frown, not realizing just how badly he had screwed up the night prior. “Look, I know you’re upset, but at least let me explain.”

Y/N sat up with her back towards him, looking around on the floor until she found the backpack she had stuffed with her clothes and toothbrush, picking it up and ignoring him as she headed to the bathroom. JJ was hot on her heels, only stopping when the door shut in his face.

“Y/N, please.” He pleaded, leaning his head against the door as he spoke. Y/N rid herself of the clothes from the night before, tossing them into her bag before slipping on the tank top, jeans, and cardigan she had packed for the day.

“You can’t just ignore me forever. At least let me apologize.” JJ sighed, hearing the water running in the sink on the other side of the door. “I’m fucking sorry, okay? I just got caught up with drinking and the weed and dancing with you and I didn’t know what to do. I thought you wanted me to kiss you, I figured that was why you were dragging me out where no one could see us.”

Y/N abruptly opened the bathroom door, causing JJ to stumble forward, catching himself on the doorframe before he could fall. She passed by him as he caught himself, pulling her hair up into a bun on the top of her head. “You think I’m upset because you kissed me? I was going to kiss you, dumbass.” She admitted, crossing her arms over her chest as she sat back down on the couch.

“Well then, what’s the problem?” He questioned, walking down the hallway and stopping at the end, afraid that if he sat beside her, she’d just get up and walk away again.

“The problem is that you kissed me and then acted like it didn’t happen when we caught up with John B and Sarah.” JJ recalled the events of the night, remembering how he pulled away from her to walk back to where John B and Sarah were standing. He remembered making a joke to John B as to why they were in the woods, lying to him about the fact that they were kissing.

“Well, shit, I don’t know, y/n. I just…I panicked, okay? We have this rule: no Pogue on Pogue macking. You’re part of the Pogues now and I…” JJ sighed, running his hands through his blonde locks. “I don’t know how any of this works. Whenever I’m into a girl it’s just based on hooking up with her. It’s never anything serious. I have a fucked up way of thinking, alright? Is that what you want to hear?”

Y/N looked up at him sadly, meeting his gaze before she reluctantly motioned for him to sit on the cushion beside her on the couch. JJ followed her motions, sitting beside her and leaving some space between them. They sat in silence for a minute before JJ continued.

“Look, my mom left my dad and I when I was young, and my dad blamed me my whole life for it. He was addicted to drugs and used to beat the shit outta me whenever he felt like it. I never grew up understanding a healthy relationship, or sharing feelings, or really any of that shit.” He looked down at his hands, opening and closing them as he spoke. “I’m sorry, I wanted to kiss you, I mean, who wouldn’t? You’re the fucking best, y/n; you’re smart, funny, and incredibly beautiful. And for some reason you like hanging out with a fuck up like me.”

Y/N shifted to look over at him, a small smile on her face as he talked about her. “You’re right, I am pretty great.” She teased, easing the tension and making them both laugh. “You’re not a fuck-up, you know that, right? You can’t control what happened with your mom and dad. I was so young when my dad killed himself, but when I grew up and watched my mom drinking, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was my fault. The truth is you can’t blame yourself for the way others react to situations. Life is shit, I mean, we don’t even make it out alive after all the bullshit we go through. It’s not worth spending your whole life blaming yourself for the actions of others.”

Her words are comforting, soothing JJ down to his core. She made him feel less messed up, like he could be someone better, like he deserved better than the shitty cards he was dealt in life. JJ’s eyes flicker to her lips, leaning closer and closing his eyes before the moment is interrupted by the sound of a car horn honking outside.

“Shit.” Y/N cursed, pulling away from the intimate moment they were having and standing up off the couch. She pulled her backpack to her shoulder, looking out the window at the familiar Dodge Durango. “That’s Bailey, I texted her for a ride home when I was in the bathroom.”

JJ tried not to look flustered, scrambling to his feet and running a hand through his hair again. “I’ll walk you out.” Y/N opened the door, walking out onto the screened in porch before stepping outside while JJ walked silently beside her. She watched her sister’s expression as she looked between the two, raising an eyebrow as she smiled mischievously at y/n.

“You must be JJ.” Bailey noted, rolling her window down and resting her arm on the open space.

“Yeah, it’s uh-it’s nice to meet you.” JJ held out his hand for Bailey to shake, receiving a firm handshake from the woman, glancing back to where y/n stood.

“It’s nice to meet you finally, y/n won’t shut up about you.” Y/N’s cheeks flushed a bright red, her eyes widening as she wordlessly pleaded with her sister to shut up.

“B, don’t we have that place to go?” Y/N questioned, hinting at her sister to play along with her lie after having just embarrassed her.

“Right...yeah, get in kid. It was nice to meet you, JJ. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you.” Bailey watched as y/n walked to the passenger door of the Durango and opened it, Y/N lingering in the doorway. JJ followed her, holding onto the top of the door frame.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow, yeah?” She asked, biting her lip as she looked up into JJ’s blue hues..

“Yeah, sounds good. It was nice meeting you, Bailey.” He gave them both a salute before heading back into the Château, y/n hopping into the passenger seat of the Durango and shutting the door behind herself.

Bailey backed out onto the road, a sinful smile on her lips. “I can see why you like him; he’s tall, muscular, and those eyes are like staring into the damn ocean.” Bailey hissed when y/n smacked her arm as she drove, y/n letting out a huff of breath as she stared over at her older sister.

“You just had to embarrass me, huh?”

Bailey shrugged, stopping at a stop sign on the road before making a left in the direction of their home. “Mom would’ve done the same if she was here, you know that. Like she did for that boy who took you to your eighth-grade formal.” Y/N smiled at the fond memory of her mother, one of the better memories before her mother’s drinking had gotten worse.

“...Yeah, mom definitely embarrassed me much more than you just had. And that was before I even thought about kissing boys.” Y/N agreed, biting down on her bottom lip and looking out the window. She still didn’t know how JJ felt, he had been leaning in for a kiss, but what was to say he wasn’t going to pull away again or shrug it off as an ‘in the moment’ gesture. Her thoughts are clouded with the what-ifs of her and JJ’s relationship as they drove home, the lingering sounds of the radio playing softly in the background as she replayed the past hour repeatedly in her head.

Tagging those who may be interested. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged/untagged: @midnightf, @serendipityrogers, @fuckandfluff, @eireduchess, @calisamcro​, @moniamaybank​, @astrydis​, @sokovianheadtilt​, @blackwiddows​, @matbarzalschain​, @bigassnocash​, @sspidermanss​