#they’re right I’m a burden and they’d be better off without me

[sensitivegoblin]

:,(

[ofstoriesandstardust]

on a dime, your whole life can change

or: Ice breaks the news of his cancer diagnosis to his goddaughter 

like father, like daughter masterlist

warnings: swearing, cancer diagnoses, canonical deaths, this picks up right off of a piece i’m still writing, like father like daughter pieces are intentionally small, unedited

word count: 1.7k

Your godfather sighs as he sits down next to you on the porch swing, causing you to glance up from your book.

"How you doing?” He asks as you tuck your bookmark in between the pages, shutting the book softly. You shrug. 

“I’m okay, I think.” 

He hums. “You excited to be back home for a little while?” 

You nod. “Shame it’s for this though.” 

After your Dad’s accident, you had submitted a request for extended caregiver leave to care for your Dad as healed up. The request had gotten approved, no strings having to be pulled on Ice’s part. It would be unpaid, but honestly, at this point in your life, a paycheck was the last thing you cared about. 

Your Dad would be a few weeks out from getting cleared to move back to Miramar from Pensacola so you and Ice had headed home, leaving him under Slider’s watchful eye to get ready. 

It would be an adjustment, you being home with your Dad and uncles at the same time. But it was an adjustment you were willing to make and you were all too happy to be close to them again. 

“I’m excited to have you here though. Gonna make this conversation a little easier knowing I don’t have to send you back out right after.” 

You cock your head. “What do you mean? What conversation?” 

He sighs. “Kid, I’m really sorry to have to tell you this on the heels of what has gone down with your Dad but we- well, really, I can’t hide it from you any longer.” 

You shift, concern growing in your stomach. “Ice, what’s going on?” 

Ice blows out a breath through his teeth, unable to meet your gaze. “I’m really sorry, kid.” 

“You’re scaring me, Ice.” You whispered. 

Ice’s got the same look on his face that he did when he had to be the one to tell you Carole wasn’t getting better, your Dad too distraught after Bradley’s reaction to the news. 

It’s the same cautious look, like he’s going to do his best to keep his goddaughter from falling apart when her whole world has been turned upside down. 

“Okay, just gotta rip the band-aid off.” He whispers. 

It’s unusual to see him like this, which is making the pit in your stomach grow. 

Had someone else been hurt? Was Bradley okay? Had something happened to him? What couldn’t he hide anymore? 

“Kid, I have cancer.” 

It feels like breathing has suddenly become impossible, all the breath being sucked from your lungs in that moment. 

Part of you wants to bite out a bitter laugh, unable to fathom that this is happening again. 

How much more unfair could life get?

“It’s up in my throat. The doctor’s are optimistic. Say they caught it early and that they’re...” 

Ice’s voice drown out as you swallow, unsure of what to do. 

When Carole had been sick, you’d turned to Ice, unwilling to burden your father or Bradley with your emotions about the loss of Carole. They’d needed your support more than they needed your tears and you knew you had to be a rock for them. 

Ice had made you feel safe enough to break down, had allowed you to cry to him more than you ever thought you could. It was a needed support, one you wouldn’t have been able to get through without. 

But this time, it was Ice who was sick. He’d have to go through the hell that is chemo, lose his hair and his appetite, suffer painful surgeries, wither away right in front of you. He couldn’t be there for you, living the diagnosis every day of his life.

Your Dad would be losing another one of his best friends, Slider too. 

And this time, Bradley was gone. There was no comfort or support to be found in his hatred. 

This time, you were all alone. 

-

“How’d she take it?” Slider voice murmurs from the living room. They all thought you were asleep, no idea you were sitting on the stairs in Ice and Sarah’s house. You tucked your head into the fabric of your elephant-covered pajama pants. They’d been a gift from your Dad in high school, unsure of what to get you for Christmas. They were a little goofy, but the sentiment and thought was sweet and they still fit, becoming a pair you slipped on when needing a little extra comfort. 

“Worse than I thought she would honestly.” Ice mutters back. 

“What happened?” Your Dad says. He’d gotten back this evening, a bittersweet arrival. As much as you were relieved to have your Dad near, it’d been tamped down by the knowledge of the fact that he had to have known what Ice was going through. 

How long had they all known and chosen to keep it from you, to walk on eggshells around you? 

Wasn’t this something you deserved to know, that your godfather, essentially your second dad for all intents and purposes, was dying and there wasn’t a goddamn thing you could do about it?

“I thought for a minute there she might start freaking out or crying or get angry or anything but she was just...” He trails off. “She just shut down.” 

“She didn’t talk to anyone for three days.” Sarah says softly. 

“That poor kid probably thinks she’s going to lose everyone important to her by the time she’s thirty.” Slider’s voice sounds. 

“With the way things are going, she might.” You hear your Dad say.

“Over my dead body are you leaving your daughter Mitchell.” Ice rasps out. “Hell will have to freeze over first.” 

“Let’s be realistic here for a second, okay, Kazansky?” Your Dad snaps. “We can be optimistic all we want about the prognosis but she knows just as well as everyone else in this room does that it doesn’t fucking matter how optimistic the doctors are. She watched cancer destroy her only mother figure, who’s to say it won’t destroy you?” 

“Mitchell...” Slider sighs, but it’s too late, the sounds of your Dad attempting to leave the room echo in the hallway. “Jesus Christ, Maverick.” Slider says and the sounds of someone helping your Dad back to the couch can be heard even from your position in the hallway. You can’t stand the thought of your still-injured father trying and failing to stand and leave. 

“We’re all fucking struggling with this, Pete.” Ice snaps after a few moments. “This isn’t easy on any of us. In case you forgot, I was that girl’s main support when Carole passed. I didn’t forget all the nights she crawled into my bed and cried while she was over here.” 

“She needs you Ice, you can’t leave her yet.” 

“Oh, and you think she doesn’t need you?” 

Ice’s words are harsh, full of heat, and you wince again. 

Ice sighs after a few moments. “Pete, I’m going to do everything it my power to be with her. I know what I took on when I agreed to be her godfather. The last thing I would ever want to do is leave that kid alone.” 

“I think we should let the two of you talk.” Sarah says softly, and the sounds of her and Slider leaving the room make their way to you. 

You know you should move, not knowing what would happen if they all knew you had overheard this conversation but you can’t seem to bring yourself to move. 

“Night Sarah.” Slider mutters to the woman as she disappears into her bedroom. Slider pauses as the foot of the stairs when he notices you sitting at the top step. “Kid-”

You stand up, walking back towards your room as Slider’s footsteps follow you. The bedroom door slams behind you, the lock clicking shut, just as Slider reaches it. You can hear him jiggle the doorknob before knocking on the door. 

“Kid, let me in please? Talk to me.” 

You plop down on the bed before anger thrums through you, propelling you off the bed and wrenching the door open. 

“You want me to talk to you? Let’s talk about how it’s not fucking fair I have to lose my godfather over fucking cancer. Let’s talk about how I am in fact, terrified, I am going to lose everyone I love by the time I’m thirty. Let’s talk about the fact that I no longer have anyone I can turn to for support because everyone needs me to support them more than they can handle me being upset. Let’s talk about the fact that I have to be the one to keep it together because-” 

You blink, realizing Slider isn’t the one in the doorframe.

It’s Ice. 

He sighs. “Kid, you’re not alone in this. It’s going to be okay, I promise. You still have so many people in your life who love you and aren’t going anywhere, including me. I’m gonna fight like hell, I promise-” 

You’re slamming the door shut before you even realizing it, the hollow promise striking somewhere deep in you. 

Carole had said the same thing long ago. Look at what had happened. Look at all you had lost because of it. 

A sob escapes your throat as you fall back on to the bed, hand flying up to silence it. 

Your chest physically ached with all the weight you were carrying and there was nothing more than you wanted to hug Bradley in that moment. 

The ache made you angrier, confused as to why he seemed to be appearing in your mind so much lately, how the anger was somehow drowning out underneath the knowledge that you missed him. 

He should’ve been here to comfort you and somehow the thought makes you angrier, your chest heaving as you sobbed. 

Lately, it all felt like drowning. You felt unable to carry the weight of your Navy service, becoming restless in the career you had chosen for yourself. 

The career that had always been laid out for you. 

You missed Bradley and that made you angrier. 

And now, now who’s to say they wouldn’t all become a memory? That you wouldn’t end up all alone? 

Would this ever be over? Would this feeling ever end? 

Underneath the sobs and the heaving of your chest, through the sounds of the knocks on the bedroom door, you weren’t so sure. 

[aestheticsfandomsandmore]

I noticed many people are feeling pretty angry at the writers right now, for how they handled PatPran’s conflict. First of all, for introducing us to Pat’s fear (I don’t want to admit to myself that I can’t live without him) without every really foreshadowing it; second of all, for having Pran say that he’s insecure, that he doesn’t feel enough, that he believes Pat puts more effort in their relationship than he does (and well, all of this was already pretty obvious from other scenes in both Bad Buddy and this crossover), but then having him do nothing about it and wait for Pat to be the first to say, ‘I can’t live without you’. 

I will try to explain these scenes and the reasons behind them, but I do want to clarify something first: unlike the 12 Bad Buddy episodes, these ones were rushed, and not as well written. I’m not as disappointed as other people and I don’t think they ruined the show and/or the couple with these specials, but I do wish they’d done a better job conveying these messages. 

Pat loves playing the hero, even Pran tells him (in episode 11) that it’s one of the reasons why he likes him. 

We’re used to Pat being vocal about his love for Pran, and that’s what put so many people off—why would he feel insecure about saying those words out loud, when he’s always been sincere and has never had issues expressing his own feelings? And you’re right, of course, that’s one of the many differences between Pat and Pran’s personalities, as established in the show.

But! Pat telling Pran how much he loves him, Pat being there for him, Pat always taking Pran’s feelings into consideration and putting them first, Pat protecting Pran, Pat being ready to lose in case his win might put Pran in a tough situation, Pat yelling his adoration for Pran on the stairs of the Architecture faculty... all of this is a way for Pat to be Pran’s hero, to be the strong one, the one who’s willing to yield because he knows that’ll please his boyfriend, the one who’s straightforward and who never hides the way he feels. 

And yes, we did get some quotes from Pat in ep 11 about how much he likes that Pran always fights alongside him and never leaves him alone, but that speaks a lot about partnership, doesn’t it? We fight together, we go through stuff together and nobody can stop us as long as we’re together. 

But then Pran starts having doubts, shows his insecurities; he knows that Pat always being there for him is fine and all, but let’s not forget that Pran isn’t used to this. Yes, they’ve been together for three years, and they faced a lot together, helping each other out all the time, and that’s why now Pran feels like he can let his guard down next to Pat. When Pran says, in episode 1 of OS, ‘No matter what problem I face, you’re always there for me’, he means it, deeply, and he isn’t ashamed of it at all, or at least until he hears Pat and his friends making fun of it, making fun of how much he trusts Pat, to the point that he’d be willing to rely on him, something he’s obviously never done before. And while he knows those are not words Pat truly means, he can’t help but wonder: ‘Am I doing enough? Does Pat feel like I’m a burden to him? Doesn’t he believe I can get things done on my own anymore? Have I got too comfortable with thinking he’s always by my side that I’ve reached the point where I need him by my side?’

Because let’s not forget that Pat and Pran are individuals that got together by choice, and by choice only. Ever since they were kids, they chose to break their parents’ rules and become friends, they chose the hard way instead of the easy path. So they’re choosing to stay together, going through the trouble of hiding their relationship again, and maybe Pran starts wondering whether Pat still thinks it’s worth it (let’s not forget that Pat answers ‘I have no choice’ when Pran tells him he’s grateful for his presence, and while Pat just meant that they’re meant to be together, that he couldn’t not love Pran even if he wanted to, that might also come off as ‘It’s the way it is, I got used to it’).

And that’s why in ep2 of OS, when Pat reminds him that he wants to help him because he’s his boyfriend, not because Pran asked (not because he has to, or because Pran needs him to, but because he wants to, because his choice is to stay beside him) the mood immediately changes, to the point that Pran gets super comfortable with physical touch again and they’re even implied to be sexually active (which may not sound important, but we saw how brutally Pran pushed Pat away when he still wasn’t in the mood and was still hurt and Pat kissed him, so I think it’s actually very important). 

Pran is still obviously insecure—and can you blame him, really? Pran has been in love with Pat throughout his entire life, he thought the mere chance of having any sort of relationship with him was nothing more than a dream, and instead got exactly what he wanted. But he never thought he deserved it, or that he was enough for it. He is clearly uncomfortable with how different their bodies are (despite Pat being horny for him all the time! Which kind of proves the point that until you’re the one who fully believes in something, it doesn’t matter if anyone else around you tries to convince you: you’re still gonna doubt), he knows he’s ‘a lot to handle’ (as Pat tells him himself in ep11, and please do not get me started on Pran’s face when he asks Pat why he likes him, as if he’s thinking ‘honestly, why on Earth would someone like you love someone like me?’), he asks Pat if he ‘were good’ after they made love for the first time, although I’m pretty sure Pat showed his pleasure pretty evidently while they were at it. There are still days in which he doesn’t believe his own eyes, think about that little moment in ep1 of OS when Pat agrees to give him the auditorium and his eyes shine and flicker with the same lovesick expression he had back when they weren’t even dating. We see Pran getting confident around Pat because he knows Pat likes him, because he’s somehow reassured that his boyfriend enjoys the way he is, which allows him to be more comfortable in his own skin (think about how smug he acts during more than half of episode 1 of OS). His confidence shutters when he hears Pat say those words and laughing with his friends about them; I think it’s perfectly normal that he got insecure after that, despite being fully aware that Pat did not mean what he said. 

And then you have Pat, whose whole identity is shaped around the idea of being the perfect son, the coolest friend, the greatest rival in history, realizing that he doesn’t just want to be with Pran all the time, to take care of Pran and to be there for him, to cherish him and make him feel loved and desired. No, when he takes his time to think about Pran’s insecurities, he goes like ‘He’s the one who’s worrying over whether he needs me too much or not, when I’m literally nothing without him by my side?’

Pat can only be truly himself around Pran. Pat only shows his weaknesses to Pran. Pat is only clingy to Pran. Pat wants to help Pran because Pran’s his entire world. Sure, he likes to play the hero; he likes to be someone the people in his life can rely on, someone who can be anyone else’s rock; but all of that means nothing in the face of the idea of losing Pran. 

And it’s terrifying to admit it! One thing is to say, ‘I love you so much, you’re the most important person in my life, our relationship means the world to me’, and something else entirely is to say, ‘I can’t live without you’. Our parents will eventually find out and they might try to get in our way again? That’d break me, break me completely, do you understand? I don’t know how to function without you. That’s what ‘I can’t live without you’ really means, we can’t live without air, we can’t live without food or water, and that’s how much Pran means to Pat (and how much Pat means to Pran), and it doesn’t matter how vocal about his feelings Pat has always been, and it doesn’t matter that they both already know (as Pat tells Pran!): to say it out loud is a different story.

Especially when you think about how important to Pat and Pran is that they’re equals in their relationship. Think about how much Pat was insecure in ep1 of OS when he realized Pran was so confident about the whole ‘play-competition’ thing, how sad he got when his presentation went down bad and Pran got the sponsorship. What gets him all happy again? The realization that he doesn’t need to be better than Pran at everything; the realization that they’ll always be there to help each other out, that what Pran did with him—helping him visualizing things as something different from what they were—was really the same thing he did when he helped Pran visualize a bus-stop that wasn’t even there yet. That’s why he goes from being so worked up about winning the competion to being once again willing to give the auditorium to Pran. 

So why does Pran feel so bad at the idea of needing me, when I’m literally so sure that I do? That makes him feel uncomfortable, and doesn’t allow him to fully accept the idea that he needs Pran so much, when he he isn’t sure that Pran needs him all that much and when Pran seems so against the possibility of actually needing him (also, take into account how much Pat belives in Pran! He doesn’t doubt Pran will find a solution to him and Phupha being lost in the forest for one second! Sure, he’s worried about him, but he also knows Pran will always handle things one way or another, with or without his help).

I think the miscommunication is evident, because Pran’s issue wasn’t with needing Pat, but with the idea that Pat might be starting to feel like Pran was becoming a burden to him. That’s why they should have talked this out, because Pat ‘can’t read his mind’, as he very cleverly pointed out in ep6. But while PatPran do have an healthy communication going on, I don’t understand why people were so upset that Pran didn’t feel like spelling it out, when it’s really not the first time he does that? Pat and Pran just happen to always get each other in the end, often without any need for words to come out of their mouths. 

I think the main difference this time was that Pat needed an answer. Pran already got an answer to his insecurities when Pat told him he couldn’t live without him, and Pran already knew how Pat felt because Tian snitched had already told him about his conversation with Pat. So, ‘Am i doing enough? Is Pat getting tired of me? Is the way i handle things, the fact that he’s the one who usually yields, something that’s tiring him?’, very obviously no. Pat’s not getting tired of him, Pat could never get tired of him (when you think about it, it’s also kind of the meaning of the ost that Ohm sings, and that’s supposed to be Pat’s answer to Pran’s song). 

Pran doesn’t need any other answer, but Pat does. He doesn’t in ep11, when he so very genuinely gives that huge, emotional speech to Pran, to which Pran doesn’t reply a single word, and that’s perfectly okay because Pat doesn’t need an answer to that. But Pat does need an answer now, and you can see it from the way he’s so shy when he pronounces those last two words, from the way he looks at Pran craving for something, anything, that will make him feel like him needing Pran is okay, because Pran needs him too. So that’s what Pran tells him, nothing more, and nothing less—although, he does say a lot more, by literally resting his head on his shoulder, asking for physical support, and physically supporting him at the same time, because that’s who they are, that’s who they’ll always be. Pat telling Pran he can’t live without him makes Pran feel like it’s okay if he can’t live without him too, it’s not something he should be ashamed of or afraid of. It’s just the way they work. Yes, they chose to be together, and now they need to—and there is no shame in that.

And it may look like Pran’s not putting any effort into this, but he so clearly is. Pran’s crying, you guys! Even just saying those few words out loud isn’t easy for him, all considered. He’s always been the one having an harder time expressing what he feels, this is nothing new.

EDIT: I guess I should have written that his eyes were watery, not that he was crying, since there were no tears in sight. I’m sorry!

And things will kind of always stay this way, if you think about it. Think about how even in ep12, when they’have been dating for ages and are fully adults, Pat’s still the one who goes to Pran’s bedroom, never the other way around. And that’s not—don’t you dare say it—something that shows how much more Pat loves Pran than Pran loves him: it just shows that people can show their love to each other in different ways, and that’s okay. 

[cloudbattrolls]

Back Step

This drabble is preceded by Side Step and followed by Front Step.

Guardian Artifice | Present Night | Eirish Countryside

They stepped off the train in Eire, where Arty had never been, though had long wanted to see. It was a pity it didn’t have much time to linger in Leeson’s homeland. 

Róisín sighed in satisfaction as they stepped out, tail swishing back and forth eagerly as the fae breathed deep, taking in the evening air.

“S’good to be home.” He said with feeling. “I like t’travel. But home’s special.”

“Mm.” Said Arty, noncommittal. “I wouldn’t really know.”

The kelpie turned to look at her quickly, mouth open in shock.

“Ya don’t got a home?”

“Not really.” It said with a shrug. “It’s too dangerous for me to stay anywhere too long. I don’t want to bring trouble for any trolls around. Or the wildlife.”

Róisín shook her head. “That ain’t right. Ya deserve a place to stay.”

It looked at them blankly as the pair of them walked off the train platform, the train now chugging away to its next destination with a whistle.

“It isn’t about that, Róisí. I have to keep people safe.”

“Do ya never do anything fer yourself?”

Arty was silent as they went down a few steps, then snorted softly.

“I buy things for myself. I go where I want with my bodies that aren’t working. Honestly, I indulge myself too much already.” It said with a shake of its head. 

“I should be more focused. I’m meant to protect and assist trolls, and the more I do that and shut out distractions, the better off I am.”

The pair walked into the town - not a big one, but enough to have a modest train station and a decent array of stores. Trolls, mostly lowbloods and a few midbloods, dotted the streets, so once again Arty and Róisín stood out.

Yet here no one seemed to care much. The pair received a few glances, but most people were busy on their own errands or talking with others.

“Damn, that sounds joyless.” Said Róisín, shaking their shaggy head. “No wonder ya have such trouble relaxin’. Do ya even know how?”

It glared at them. “Yes.”

“Cool yer jets, I was just askin’.” Said the fae, raising her hands in surrender.

It sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Where are we going next?”

“To pick up th’wine, o’course. Then to my castle.”

“Hm.” Said Arty, amused. “And where are we going to find what I assume has to be quite the stunning quantity of wine?”

The kelpie gave it a yellowed grin.

“M’so glad ya asked.”

—

“You are doing this on purpose.” Said the muffled voice of the artifice from behind the boxes of wine Róisín had loaded it up with from the store they’d visited, one where the proprietor apparently owed the fae folk a favor. 

A very big favor, judging by the dozens of dusty boxes they were both dragging out of his cellar.

“Aw, nah, it’s gotta be carried is all.” Replied the fae breezily. “And yer so strong!”

The various boxes of wine concealing the entire upper body of the artifice wobbled slightly.

“I’m so overloaded with booze I might fall! Strength doesn’t equate to there being enough of me to counterbalance it!”

Róisín chuckled.

“Ah, yap yap yap, get it into the truck, will ya?”

“I hate you.” Grumbled the construct as, very carefully, it managed to carry and lay down its burden without any of it tipping and breaking. Strong it indeed was, but its slender limbs and frame were ill equipped for balancing so many bulky objects at once.

The kelpie grinned as they effortlessly tucked several boxes under their own broad, strong arms and hauled them into the back of the vehicle.

“Careful, I migh’ take that th’wrong - “

“No.”

He pouted in dismay, tail drooping.

—

Róisín drove the truck, to Arty’s surprise.

“I thought fae didn’t like vehicles.” It said in surprise.

“Most of us don’t.” She agreed. “But I’m different. I think they’re fun, actu’lly. Plus I got higher iron and silver tolerance than most.”

“So that’s why they sent you.” Arty murmured. “I wondered why those wounds I left didn’t seem to bother you much.”

The kelpie grinned. “Damn straight. None o’those pinpricks really did shit. But if ya wanted to get real rough I wouldn’t compla -“

“Finish that sentence and I will start cutting off your fingers.” The construct interjected coldly.

“Well ya don’t gotta be like that about it.” Róisín said sulkily.

Arty rolled its eyes, arms folded in front of it.

“Apparently I do, since you keep failing to grasp that I’m not interested and your fantasies are absolutely nothing I want to hear.”

The kelpie continued to pout as she navigated her way down an ever more twisty and winding road through the woods. 

“Sheesh, I can’t even joke around with ya?”

“Get some better jokes.”

It leaned back in its seat and closed its eyes, playing with the bell on its purple bracelet.

“What’s that thing ya keep fiddlin’ with, anyway?” Róisín asked as she finally slowed the truck down to a halt.

“A gift.” It said curtly as it opened the door, stepping onto the grass. “From my friend who doesn’t like music.”

“Looks almost like a collar.” Chuckled the kelpie as she followed, both of them now under the shadow of the trees. The canopy was thick enough that there was barely any moonlight streaming down through it.

“It was.” Said Arty, voice even more tight. “It was a joke. They slipped it over my head while we were goofing around. I kept it and turned it into this.”

“Damn, ya can goof around? Who’d have thunk.” Said the fae, going for the back of the truck.

The artifice hissed at them.

“I can goof around with people I like! People I can, to an extent, trust! Not you. Never you.”

Róisín stopped and looked at it with raised brows, hair out of his face as it had been while he’d been driving.

“Well shit, don’t have t’get all huffy at me. What’s so great about this troll, anyway? Ya said ‘to an extent’. Is it cause ya know trolls won’t ever really trust ya?”

It laughed sharply.

“Of course I know trolls won’t really trust me! I’m not an idiot. I know it’s stupid to care about them personally. But I can’t help it.” It muttered. 

“I’ve tried and tried to make it go away…it never does. I’m stuck with this affection, useless as it is.” It sighed, running a hand through its fluffy hair. “I’d retreat entirely, but…I don’t want to.” It murmured. “It’d be so, so boring…just like before.”

A pause stretched between the two creatures.

Róisín took a step closer. Arty was too despondent to care. 

They took another.

“Well.” Said the kelpie, slow and soft. “Seems to me it might be easier on ya if ya stopped tryin’ to hold onto stuff draggin’ ya down.”

Arty looked at them blearily. “What? I don’t - "

Róisín snatched its wrist and and with one swift motion, broke its bracelet.

The two halves of the purple ex-collar fell to the dark grass.

A moment passed.

Arty roared like a pride of lions and transformed into a great metallic beast, but one with no fixed form - the artifice was too enraged to settle, and kept growing and retracting spines and limbs, fins and wings, a shifting chaotic mass of flesh and tech that pinned the bewildered kelpie down with a great clawed paw.

“Do you know - " It said in a clicking, chittering voice, the words coming from it more impressions of sounds than properly spoken. “ - why you aren’t dead?”

Róisín swallowed as her body was pressed down into the dirt and didn’t dare answer in case she said the wrong thing.

“For the moment, I need you. Once I don’t, your life is forfeit. You are not a troll. I could split you from throat to groin and feel nothing except the satisfaction of scavenging your corpse. 

I could wear your skin as mine and it would feel no different than all the other skins I’ve taken.” It whispered, almost lovingly.

Róisín shuddered.

“If you damage my gifts or disparage those I care for again, I will kill you.”

The kelpie swallowed and nodded in understanding.

“Good.” It said shortly, then began turning back into its troll form.

The fae didn’t dare move as it folded in on itself once more, layers and layers retracting like fractals of gleaming metal and engineered sinew, sparks of light dancing between them as the construct resembled a troll in a suit again and bent over to carefully pick up the halves of the broken bracelet.

It sighed, stroked them with its fingers, and put them away in its sylladex.

It looked down at Róisín, its lip curling with disgust.

“Get up. I assume we’re near your castle, and I need to carry these in the right direction.”

The kelpie scrambled to their feet, quick to obey and start babbling instructions.

—

The pair had spent the time carrying the wine in silent cooperation and brief exchanges about where to take the wine.

Róisín’s castle in the woods wasn’t too bad, Arty admitted to itself. Nothing like the Kelter one - it sighed, glad it was at least there as Eileit while this body had to be here - but in better condition than it had expected from the fae.

It hauled the last of the wine into the basement and looked at it, calculating. It would take a while to dose all the bottles, but it would be well worth it, if it could only find - 

“Hey, Arty, uh…”

It turned to look at Róisín, expression neutral.

“Sorry.” Róisín said, scratching her head as she looked to the side. 

It raised its eyebrows.

“Let’s just get this done. Then we won’t have to see each other again.” It said, tone even.

The kelpie’s tail dragged on the floor as they silently led the artifice into the main hall of the castle.

To the construct’s surprise, there was a small crowd waiting for them - fae of all shapes and sizes, a few more troll-like while others resembled animals and plants, even mushrooms.

“Welcome home, lady!” They all said together, in a cheerful and welcoming tone. “Lady Róisín, how are you? Is the castle to your liking?”

The kelpie chuckled. “O’course it is, y’all do as good a job as ever. Nothin’ t’complain about. Now, everyone tell me what y’ve been up to -“

Surprised, the construct watched as the kelpie walked among all her - servants, it realized, or attendants - and asked them how they were, what they’d been doing, listened to their concerns or clapped them on the back for taking care of things so well.

It felt strange watching her be so familiar and comfortable with them. Watching them be genuinely happy to see him.

It felt…some sort of ache. An ache it didn’t understand. As if it wanted to walk beside her and do the same…

No. That was silly. It didn’t even know these fae. 

What was this feeling? Something else useless it should get rid of, no doubt.

“Who’s your guest, lady?” Called one fae curiously, after greetings had been exchanged.

Arty’s ears flattened. Suddenly, it didn’t want to be looked at.

Róisín nodded encouragingly.

“I…” it said. “I’m Arty…”

“Oh, that’s a cute name!”

“Why are you here with the lady?”

“Oh, you’re not a troll, are you? Do you mind telling us what you are?”

It couldn’t. It couldn’t find its words. 

They were all being nice…

Their faces were all…pleasant, curious…

They clearly had no idea how many of them it had killed.

They had no idea it had nearly killed their lady.

Their lady they clearly cared about very much.

Arty bolted.

—

It curled up in the castle’s treasure room, growing feathered metal wings to wrap around itself as it nestled in a high corner. 

It didn’t know how long it had been. Probably at least an hour.

“Ah, there ya are.” 

A familiar voice carried up to its ears and it curled its wings even tighter around itself. It did not look at Róisín.

“Didn’t know that was gonna be too much for ya. I explained it away for ya, though. Said ya were tired and a little overwhelmed.”

It chitter-groaned, still unable to speak.

“They didn’t mind none. We’re not like trolls; won’t judge ya for bein’ a bit different.”

It clicked a bit, then fell silent.

“Ya can come down if ya want. I told no one t’bother ya unless ya spoke first. But if ya wanna stay up there until tomorrow, I un’nerstand. M’goin’ to bed soon, but feel free to walk aroun’ th’castle.”

The creature still couldn’t respond. It didn’t really know how. Róisín’s kindness left it floundering for words, even if it could have spoken them.

It heard her leave.

It stayed still a bit longer, then unraveled its wings and flew down to land gently on the stone floor.

The artifice looked across all the gleaming piles of gold and armor, weapons and jewelry.

It couldn’t afford to indulge its weakness any longer.

It had a job to do.

[iamdeansbrokenheart]

They’re just outside of Cleavland, Ohio, when Sam takes it upon himself to get Dean talking about whatever's clearly bothering him. Although his brother’s sudden moodiness is by no means unfamiliar, Dean’s been acting uncharacteristically quiet since they ganked the lake monster, saved the hot girl and rescued her kid. The whole job had felt like a win for everyone, making Dean’s sudden shift in behavior that much more worrisome to understand.

While Sam had learned early enough on in their childhood to just leave his brother be during these depressive bouts of silent suffering- Left to his own devices, Dean would undoubtedly drink himself back to normal eventually after having successfully pushed down all the uncomfortable feelings he couldn't otherwise process. Unfortunately for Sam, he’s unable to ignore things right now. Jess was dead, dad was gone and Dean was all he had at the moment. So, even though every bone in his body knew better, Sam found himself unable to afford Dean any more patient brotherly avoidance for the time being.

“Hey, so uh, I read this thing in dad’s journal about how you went completely mute after mom’s death-” Sam said, looking over at his brother.

“I guess it really stood out to me because it seemed like dad was actually getting pretty worried about your lack of coping skills or whatever.”

Dean flinched under his brother's gaze, he’d hoped his little brother hadn't noticed how shitty his mood had been lately. He’d put so much energy that he didn't even have into keeping himself together. Praying that maybe just one more day of him and Sammy out on the open road, cranking up the tunes as the scenery flew by- Only a couple more hours before he’d snap out and the gaping hole inside his chest would just patch itself shut independently.

“And?” Dean asked, instinctively hiding under a thin layer of anger.

“I dunno, Dean, but I had to take a psychology class my freshman year, as a graduation requirement, and traumatic mutism is kind of a big deal. Plus, you still go quiet and shut yourself down when you’re freaking out- Like when we were kids and dad went off grid too long on a hunt without checking in.”

Dean sighed, he’d almost forgotten how intuitive Sam was about all his emotional crap. 

“Just ask your questions already Sammy, you know I hate being head shrunk and besides, psych 101 or not- you’re kinda doing a terrible job right now!”

An awkward silence followed the brothers until they’d pulled off the highway and parked. Still gripping the wheel, every muscle in Dean’s upper back flexed uncomfortably as he looked straight ahead, waiting for his brother to speak.

“Hey, do you, uh, want a beer or something?” Sam asked, drumming his fingers along the top of the green cooler he’d just hefted into his lap.

Although leaving the car was like shedding a protective skin, Dean obliged his younger brother. Leaning back against the impala, Dean struggled to push down his mounting vulnerabilities.

He’d always managed to fake his way through the hard things in life, he was a pro at shielding himself from pretty much everyone. Well, everyone except of course Sam.

“Listen Dean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to- It’s just, I know something’s been bothering you since we left Lake Manitoc and I just wanted you to know I’m here for you, okay?” 

Looking up from his beer, Dean was almost tempted to tell Sam everything. Tell him about how lost he felt without the physical presence of their dad or how overwhelmed he was getting from the almost constant nightmares he’d been having about mom’s death. While discussing his most traumatic childhood losses with Lucas had not been an intentional choice, it had proven to be the right thing to comfort the kid in that moment- But once his brain had gotten hold of those intrusive memories again, mom on the ceiling and- It was all just too much to deal with and not even a lifetime built around trying to forget was helping to save him now from the massive burden of his own grief.

“Uh, thanks Sammy. That’s good to know.”

Finishing his beer, Dean contemplated chasing it down with something stronger. He needed to hurry up and get over himself and his chick flick bullshit already. Because they had work to do and dad surely wasn't going to go on without them and rescue himself.

[lubdubsworld]

⋆⋆✵ Perfect Imperfections ✵⋆⋆

Chapter 1

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content.

Rating : 21+

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so )

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism .

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2

No one tells you how easy it is to imagine yourself in love with a beautiful man. Especially when you don’t have a clear understanding of what love actually is. 

When I met Jungkook, even knowing he was in love with my sister hadn’t done much to douse the flames of hope and attraction. He was a lot of things that other men in my life weren’t. Kind without being pitying. Concerned without being overbearing. He took care of me without making me feel helpless. And there was always such a thin line between these things that I found myself impressed by his ability to toe the line so well.

Jungkook took care of me without making me feel like a burden and I suppose, some part of me had assumed that this could, in due time turn into love. But I was clearly wrong.

Jungkook and Liza had been kissing in the hallway of their hotel room and someone had taken pictures. My father and his had managed to get them taken down but the news was already out, spreading like wildfire . My phone began ringing sometime around eight in the morning and hadn’t stopped. It was now a little past one in the afternoon and I felt queasy, despite the assurances that it was all being taken care of.

It was the pity in everyone’s face that I couldn’t bear.

I wasn’t hurt. Angry, yes? Upset? Of course. But I wasn’t hurt because there really was nothing to be hurt about. Jungkook didn’t love me. He was in love with my sister . He had made it clear, through his words and his actions, over and over again. At this point, I could see this debacle as nothing more than a possible way to get out of the marriage. Perhaps, my father would approve of a divorce?

I glanced at the article again.

The photo is just so annoyingly clear, I thought with a grimace. If it was a little blurry, I could convince myself it wasn’t him and her. But it was clear. That was my husband with his lips locked with my sister’s. Against my better judgment, I read the article again. It was a gossip column, of course there would be nothing good in there. But sometimes curiosity can be a persistent thing.

I felt my skin crawling as I realized that the phrases were all pretty true. There was no gossip here. Just plain facts.

And then my eyes reached the end of the article.

Of note is the fact that Jeon Jungkook’s wife is disabled and perhaps the virile young man is merely looking for pleasure he can’t find in his own marital bed.

I swallowed, quickly exiting the page and tossing the phone on the bed, away from me. I stared out of the window of our bedroom, the large doors left open to let air and sunlight in. There was a tall sycamore tree right outside out bedroom and the branches almost reached in and I stared at the rustling leaves, trying to scrub my mind clean of the words I’d just read.

But it was impossible.

It wasn’t something I hadn’t thought of. The stark difference between me and Jungkook, physically. He spent five days a week in the gym and they were right. He was a young man with healthy sexual appetites.

I’d never cheat on you. Jungkook’s voice from a week ago still echoed somewhere inside my skull.

I sighed, playing with my wedding ring.

I wasn’t a virgin when I married Jungkook. Hadn’t been one , when I got into the accident either. My then boyfriend, a tall strapping lit major had been a very sexual guy as well and our libidos had matched pretty well. But I’d been an athletic nineteen year old, able to bend like a pretzel at his whim and there was just endless time and endless stamina and just a whole lot of attraction . We had spent hours, exploring each other the way college kids do. Weekends in bed spent trying every possible permutation of sex positions and kinks and I’d discovered all the things I liked. All the things I didn’t.

But then the accident had happened and well, when you’re in crippling agony, sometimes sex takes the backseat. I’d been focused on my recovery, on making sure that I came out of this at least with the ability to walk and I’d succeeded. Burying the part of me that craved a man’s touch, it wasn’t easy but it was necessary.

And then Jungkook had happened.

Sex with Jungkook hadn’t been difficult. Not really. I wasn’t completely crippled after all but it was also nowhere near as exciting as it could be with someone who had full use of her legs. I knew that. It was kind of obvious. But I hadn’t dwelt too much on it because to be honest, Jungkook hadn’t looked like he’d minded. He had seemed to enjoy himself .

But then reading about how he probably hadn’t enjoyed it definitely stung.

Worse yet, probably half the country was reading it with me. I felt nauseous. Did no one think that they should have left the last part out of that article? It was terrible enough without adding that bit about me.

A faint buzzing made me turn to the bed.

I glanced at my phone as it rang, my father in law’s name prominent on the screen.

Showtime, I thought with a grimace.

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

“I suppose it was too much to hope for , expecting that boy  to keep his dignity. This is outrageous.” Mr. Jeon’s loud voice rang through the foyer of the house and I flinched, gripping the edge of the futon as Sana jumped a bit . She sat next to me, holding my hand carefully. Moral support I supposed but I was feeling entirely too blasé about the whole thing. None of this was unexpected, I thought miserably and I wasn’t feeling up to pretending otherwise.

“I still wish they’d talked to me about this.”

My brother in law’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. The man looked like he’d been dragged through hell and back and I felt a pang of genuine sympathy. He looked wrecked and it was obvious she was in love with my sister. Resentment coiled thick and deep inside me. Resentment and envy.

With no effort at all she had charmed both the Jeon brothers, I thought bitterly.

Jeon Jihyun looked absolutely stricken at the thought of losing his wife.  

“I’ve asked Lisa to take the first flight out. She called me this morning, hysterical. It was something done in the heat of the moment. She .. She’s very apologetic. I believe her and I’m willing to forgive her. We’re…. We’re thinking of starting a family together. ” He said softly and my stomach turned.

I felt my skin go ice cold as I wrapped my arms around myself. Shivering just a bit, I lightly squeezed Sana’s hand. She looked at me in askance and I had to swallow to get my voice out, throat dry. The words made me want to retch. I could imagine how Jungkook would take this news.

“Can you get me my shawl? It’s in the green room.” I said hoarsely.  She bowed before moving away from me and when I looked back up, Jihyun’s gaze caught mine.

“This must be hard on you.” He said softly and I flushed, staring down at my knees.

“Not like I can run from it. Literally or figuratively.” I smiled without mirth.

“Jungkook is …he’s just confused. He needs some time to sort himself out. I’ve asked him to take a break and come back to Seoul after a couple of weeks. The separation would do him some good.” Jihyun said quietly and I sighed before nodding. What else was I supposed to say to that anyway? There wasn’t much I could do, my influence on things almost nonexistent at this point.

“Are you going to give the boy a break, Jeon?” My father demanded, staring at Jungkook’s father who sighed.

“Yes. I’ve been trying to get these damned reporters off our back. They’re all over the place. And yes, I think Jungkook should stay in Japan for a while.  We’re starting a new distribution branch there and I wanted him to scout places and possible vendors. I’ll tell him to hash out all the details before coming back.”

His phone rang again and he excused himself . I watched him leave the room, trying to make sense of his words.

How long would it take to build a whole branch in Japan? I had no clue. But it could hardly be done in a few weeks, could it?

“That’s.. That’s a long time.” I said hesitantly and my father frowned.

“is that a problem?” he asked.

I sighed. There was no point keeping this to myself. I was supposed to go to the doctor’s tomorrow. And well, it would be better if they heard it from me first.

“I.. I’m pregnant.” I said quietly.

The silence that followed was deafening. I stared at the carpet, not able to bring myself to look up at them. I could guess, what I’d find there. It was what I always found in people’s faces.

“Oh, sweet child.” My father’s sigh made me look up and there it was. The pity. I felt sick to my stomach. Sana returned, settling the hand knit shawl over my shoulders and I wrapped it tight, before glancing at her in some desperation. She smiled reassuringly, settling next to me and gently taking my fingers in hers. The warmth grounded me for a second and when Jihyun growled, I stared at him.

“I… I didn’t know. Fuck, I’m going to kill Jungkook. This fucker…” Jihyung swore and my father sighed, clearly thinking hard.

“you can’t be staying alone now.” He said softly, sitting up and cracking his knuckles, and I swallowed. I wouldn’t bear it if they tried to take me back home. I had hated it there.

“ You must come back home with me.” He said softly but I quickly shook my head.

“ No.. No I won’t. I … Please.” I begged, the mere idea of going back to my childhood home a nightmare. My mother would kill me with just her sharp and vindictive words. I was in no shape to put up with her verbal and emotional abuse. It was one of the things that had made me agree to marry Jungkook in the first place.

“Well, you can’t stay here by yourself.” My father protested. I’ve been by myself my whole damn life, I wanted to scream.

“I’ll be fine. I have Sana and the others to help me.” I said tiredly. My father shook his head before turning to Jihyun again.

“Is Namjoon still working on his book?” My father asked him and Jihyun frowned. The name elicited a tug in my memory and I turned to stare at my father, confused.

“You remember him? He used to tutor you when you were hi High School.”

I had a brief flashback to dimples and almond shaped eyes. I remembered him vaguely. Very vaguely. But nowhere well enough to want him to live with me, alone or not.  

“Dad…” I protested but he held a hand up to silence me, nodding at Jihyun .

“Namjoon? Kim Namjoon? ” He shook his head. “ I’m not sure. Why?”

“I think it would be good if he moves in here. His father was telling me that he was looking for a place to stay, now that he’s moved back to Korea. ” My father said softly, staring at me and I stiffened.

“Father…” I began desperately and my father shook his head.

“Don’t argue. He was a dear friend of yours. I don’t think you should be alone at a time like this. And I think Jungkook would approve. Like Jihyun said, the kid needs some space to sort himself out. Let him finish whatever business is going on in Japan.” My father glanced at Mr. Jeon who looked at me with guilt.

“I owe you an apology , on behalf of my idiot son.”

I looked away, not sure what to say to that. I hated the man quite passionately. Jungkook wasn’t perfect… far from it. But this man had taken a sledgehammer to my husband’s mind and heart at every turn. The disdain, the condescension, the sick way he favored his brother over him, the way nothing Jungkook did was ever good enough. It had all taken a toll on my husband. I had watched it chip away at Jungkook’s self confidence, at his mental health.

“I think more than anything, you owe an apology to your son. You knew he was in love with Lisa and yet…. You forced him to marry me.” I said quietly and the room went eerily quiet. My father rounded on me , eyes blazing.

“Leah!!! Apologize, now!” He roared and I looked away.

“You’re all the same. Ungrateful and entitled.” Mr. Jeon said sharply, before turning to his son. “ I’m leaving Jihyun-ah. Tell me when that wife of yours get home. I want to talk to her.”

He shared a half hug with my father before stalking off and my father grabbed his jacket as well.

“I’ll leave as well. Your mother is being quite hysterical. Apparently, all her friends are hounding her about the article.” He sighed and I nodded , watching him shrug on the jacket before nodding at Jihyun and then following his friend out to the front doors.

Jihyun stayed standing , watching my father’s form disappear through the door before turning to me.

“ Are you alright?” He said quietly, moving to kneel in front of me. Sana stood up, bowing before leaving and I watched her disappear into the hallway leading to the kitchens. Jihyun’s fingers wrapped around mine, brushing my knees and I stared down at him.

“The question is, are you alright?” I brushed the hair off his face. He sighed.

“No. No I’m not. I’m angry and jealous and very much filled with resentment towards my brother.” He said honestly and I laughed, tugging on his hand and patting the seat next to me. He straightened before moving to settle next to me and I leaned on his shoulders, sighing as he wrapped on around me, the warmth of his body comforting .

“Are you going to give your marriage a chance?” I asked carefully.

“She told me she was going to break things off for good. We.. We’ve been talking about it. Starting a family, making this work.” He said quietly. I nodded. It was understandable. Unlike Jungkook and I , Jihyun had a responsibility. He would need a son and even though people liked to act like they didn’t care much about gender, like they didn’t care much about having children , it was sort of an unspoken rule. First son of the house ? You had to have a male heir to carry the family name.

I wondered how that conversation had gone between Jungkook and Lisa. It didn’t really match the photo I’d seen.

“I suppose Jungkook probably put up a fight. He genuinely wants to end up with her. He… He tells me often that he loves her and can’t love anyone else. ” I wondered if I ought to feel embarrassed or insulted.

But the truth was, I was numb to a lot of things that had once hurt quite a lot..

The conversation with Jungkook about my pregnancy had definitely cleared things up for me. There was nothing there worth salvaging. Chasing something that wasn’t real , that was foolishness. Especially when I had a very real baby to think about. A child that counted on me to make the right choices.

“I don’t think he did. She spoke to me last night and said that he agreed. Of course that was before the article came out. I’d like to think she didn’t lie to me but I’m not sure.”

I sighed, settling in closer to his chest. He was warm and firm, solid and reliable. I wondered if it would have been easier, if my father had just married me off to Jihyun instead. Jihyun and I …we were alike. We had been friends , even from childhood. Had watched with fond adoration as our younger siblings had fallen madly, wildly in love. Jungkook and Liza had been drawn to each other from the first. Inevitable.

Jihyun and I were more carefree. We didn’t feel things that intensely and perhaps that was why we could sit here in the calm of the afternoon air, quiet and introspective when we ought to be furious and raging.

“ Should we run off together? You and i?” He said suddenly making me laugh.

“Very much incapable of running.” I reminded him with a grin and he squeezed my shoulder .

“I’d carry you.” He said simply.

“Where would we go?” I asked curiously, indulging the fantasy for just a few minutes.

“Somewhere far away. Maybe India? There’s so many people there and we could get lost in the crowds.”

“That does sound appealing.” I smiled and turned to look up at him. His face inches from mine, not as handsome as Jungkook but strong featured and kind. “ But I’m not alone anymore. I have a child.”

His gaze dipped to my lap.

“Yes. Jungkook’s child.” He said thoughtfully.

“No. Mine. Nobody else’s . Just mine.” I said quietly. Jihyun’s gaze softened. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of my head.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, echoing his father’s words.” On behalf of my idiot brother, I’m sorry.”

And where Mr. Jeon’s words hadn’t made any sort of impact, Jihyun’s made my heart clench and ache in the worst way. Self pity was something I loathed but sometimes, being handed the short end of the stick at every turn in life makes it impossible to not feel sorry for yourself.

Tears stung, welling up in my eyes and spilling over my lashes like water bubbling out of an aquifer.

I blinked slowly, not bothering to wipe them as they traced a path down my face, dripping into the fabric of my shawl. In a moment of clarity I wondered what Jungkook must be going through now. Nothing good for sure.

It definitely said something, that I still worried for him. Sighing, I let Jihyun hug me closer. I would take advantage of his kindness for a few more minutes. It had been a while since someone had held me like I mattered.

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

I called Jungkook that evening.

It wasn’t an easy choice but my heart ached and my mind raced with unanswered questions. I didn’t want to get lost in my own thoughts so I didn’t overthink it. We were still married. I was allowed to call him.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Where are you?” I asked quietly and Jungkook’s groan made my face heat up a little.

“I… Leah?” He sounded groggy. I glanced at the time. It wasn’t late.

“Are you sleeping?”

He didn’t reply for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry about what happened. We.. We didn’t do anything else. It was just.. it was a kiss. Just that.”

“Are you still in the hotel?” I asked quietly ignoring his words.

“ For tonight, yes. Dad wants me to stay with a friend of his. I’ll be going over to their place tomorrow morning.” He replied .

Silence followed for a few seconds.

“Namjoon is moving in tomorrow.” I said stiffly.

Jungkook didn’t respond for a minute or so.

“Yes. Father said it’s a good idea. And I agree. You shouldn’t be alone while I’m here. He’s right. Hyung’s a nice guy. He’ll help you out.” Jungkook said softly.

“Liza came home. She wanted to talk to me.” I said quietly.

Jungkook didn’t reply and I sighed.

“I told her I wasn’t going to talk to her before I talked to you. I don’t… I don’t want to say anything to her that I haven’t already said before. But I still want to know your thoughts on all this. Your plans, that is. I take it you weren’t happy with her ending things.” I said stiltedly.

Jungkook didn’t reply for a few seconds.

“Things between us ended a long time ago, Leah. It was over when we both agreed to marry other people. Maybe even before that, I don’t know… I … I guess I just didn’t want to acknowledge them.” He said quietly. “ She’s different, now. Even that kiss felt so wrong.  She’s moving on. I’m glad in a way. She deserves better than me. She deserves someone like hyung. He’s better than me in everyway and-”

God I wanted to strangle him.

“So why did you kiss her?” I snapped. “ If you’re so generously letting her go why would you…” I stopped.

“I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. It was barely for a second.” He muttered. “ whoever it was must’ve been videoing us for a while.”

I had to remind myself that in the grand scheme of things, this little detail made no difference.

“Right.” I sighed. “ So, you won’t be home for a while?”

“Six weeks at least.” He said quietly.

I tried to keep the disappointment down. I still wanted to see him, just to make sure he was okay. But I knew that was just the pregnancy hormones talking.

“Okay.” I said simply.

“How are you? Did you go see the doctor?” He asked softly and the question surprised me. I was half sure he had forgotten.

“No, not yet. Maybe in a couple of days.” I scratched at a small stain on my skirt. Lime juice and baking soda, I thought absently. That should get the stain out.  

“Its pretty late. You should go see the doctor, Leah. I.. I looked stuff up. They say you have to be on pre natal vitamins, folic acid and iron supplements  and you have to have  a balanced diet. I called Sana earlier and told her to speak to our doctor and get a diet chart for you. She said she’ll do it soon. So , please take care of yourself.”

Jungkook sounded entirely serious and as always my brain felt muddled, unable to process why he did the things he did. He had looked things up about the pregnancy and that implied some sort of interest, didn’t it? But ….. he had also kissed my sister so what was I supposed to do with this?

“I’ll call you.” I said shakily, drained. I was done for the day.

“Right.” He said softly. “ Namjoon hyung will be there tomorrow right? Should I talk to him? He could take you to the doctor.”

“No.. That’s fine. I’ll manage.” I said quickly.

“You’re sure?” There was genuine worry there.

“Yes.” I sighed.

“Alright.”

Silence again. I exhaled shakily.

“Should I hang up?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah. Good night. ” He breathed.

“Good night, Jungkook.”

Click.

I stared at the wall, gently lowering the phone and placing it on the bed next to me.

She deserves better than me, his voice echoed in my head.

Well, so did I.

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

Namjoon looked nothing like the twenty one year old college student I’d seen a decade ago. I knew he was a successful novelist and I’d read all his books. They were mostly philosophical or commentaries on life and emotions. I enjoyed the way he wrote : melancholic and deep but also clear and easy to understand. It was like staring at a particularly deep pool, being able to see all the way down to the bottom because of how clean the waters were. But once you put your feet in, the depth  always surprised you.

“That’s a lot of books.” I laughed, gripping the edge of the door frame as I watched him stumble under the weight of a crate full of bound books. Namjoon’s messy brown hair peeked over the top, and when he adjusted the huge load to stare at me, I caught sight of his handsome face stretched in a dimpled grin, eyes glinting.

“Research.” He grunted, straightening himself up and I watched the flex of his muscles as he carefully moved to place the crate down in one corner of the large bedroom that I’d had cleaned for him. It was on the west wing of the house, parallel to my own bedroom that I shared with Jungkook . Namjoon had spent three years working as a professor somewhere in Indonesia. And I knew that he’d spent a year backpacking all over Scandinavia. I stared at his tall strapping figure, watching him set up his writing space carefully, sorting out boxes and electronics.

He had driven here in his Range Rover and I knew all his clothes were still there in the back of the car.

“Should I ask the footmen to get your clothes?” I asked and he glanced up at me, frowning.

“Footmen?” He looked confused and I rolled my eyes.

“Namjoon…” I said chidingly and he grinned again.

“I keep forgetting you’re filthy rich. Makes me wish I should have beaten Jungkook to the game and bagged myself a rich wife.” He winked. It was a joke but there was no mistaking the hint of interest in his eye. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part. Being married to Jungkook had definitely made me question the attraction I held for men so it felt good, having someone as handsome and whole and successful as Namjoon look at me like that.

“I’ll ask them to get your clothes. You should shower and settle in. We’ll meet for dinner tonight.” I said quickly and he nodded.

“You’re going to be okay heading back to your room? Let me know if you need help.” He pointed at my feet and I nodded. It was sweet of him to offer.

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

Dinner was surprisingly not awkward at all. Namjoon had a lot of interesting stories to share and I found myself clinging to ever word in rapt attention. He spoke about all the folklore he’d run into in different places, how he thought that no matter the culture, there were always some common things you could find in every one of them. He also talked a little about his next book, which he hadn’t named yet.

“It’s about second chances. Forgiving and moving on.” He said, taking another bite of his braised pork and moving to make another lettuce wrap.

“ Heavy stuff.” I said thoughtfully. “ Most of my writing is commercial. I just try to sell stuff to reluctant people. It’s not much but it keeps me occupied and it’s always nice to make money that you can call your own.”

“It’s because you don’t write for yourself. When you start writing for yourself, you can truly be who you are.” He said firmly and I nodded in agreement.

My writing in college had been vivid and bright and filled with life. But after the accident, it had turned grey and gloomy. The words seemed to drip with loss and longing and  I didn’t enjoy it, because it was a reminder that I was no longer the vibrant, attractive fulsome girl I once was.

“Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.” I smiled. “ Being who I am. I would rather pretend I’m at least a little alright.”

Namjoon stared at me, thoughtful.

“You used to run track.” He said softly and I grinned.

“You remember.” I said, pleased.

“Of course I do and you were captain of the volleyball team as well. You used to organize all those hikes and treks and stuff.”

“Yes I did. I loved the outdoors.” I stared out of the window.

“Loved? Past tense?” He tilted his head. I stared at him, shaking my head.

“What kind of question is that.” I shook my head. “ Look at me. I’m not trekking anytime soon, considering how the last time ended.”

“You can still go out.” He frowned. “ When was the last time you went somewhere?”

I shook my head.

“Oppa…”

“Listen. You know me. You’ve known me for more than a decade. Do you honestly think I’m going to let you rattle around this old house like a ghost when you should be out there taking in all the sunshine you can get?” Namjoon placed his chopsticks down and linked his fingers together, staring at me.

I stared at him, and it was definitely there. The concern, the affection. Not that different from when I was sixteen and struggling to understand what pathos meant.

But now there was a definite undercurrent of attraction. Back then it had been childish, the wild crush of a teenager on her hot tutor but now, now I knew that he was so much more than just a hot guy.

“I’m pregnant.” I said softly, more a reminder to myself than anything else.

Namjoon grinned.

“We’ll steer clear of horse riding and alcohol. Anything else you can just let me know.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“I think I’m getting one now.” I deadpanned.

“Because you’re nervous.” He grinned.

“Because your dimples look too adorable.” I retorted.

He laughed.

“I’ll talk to Jihyun and we’ll go see your doctor first. Then we’ll go out and have  a nice picnic.”

“Namjoon, I can’t…”

“You don’t know that.” He said firmly.” You don’t know if you can or can’t because you’ve never tried. Listen I love picnics and I love going out and I want company. I’m agreeing to be stuck with you for a while and the least you can do is  give me company at a picnic. You know how big a loser I’d seem like if I went by myself?”

It was like I was sixteen again getting brow beaten into things by a tutor who just hated the idea of not getting his way. I shook my head fondly.

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

Fourteen weeks. Three and a half months.

I stared at the ultrasound, feeling a multitude of things, not all of them good. The baby was growing well and I had all my prescriptions filled. Namjoon had offered to come with me but I had refused. It was too intimate and he was still a stranger. I did take a photo of the ultrasound and sent it to Jungkook.

/Jungkook called me back almost at once.

“You went to the doctor?” He asked, sounding a little breathless.

“Were you running?” I asked, surprised.

“Not really. I’m supposed to be meeting one of the vendors for lunch and I thought I could walk to the restaurant but its farther than I thought.” He huffed.

“Everything’s fine. Baby’s due in July.” I said quietly.

“Summer. That’s good.” He replied. “Right?”

I hesitated. What did that mean? What did it matter when the baby would be born?

“Because winter would mean it being too cold . Summer we can take the baby out and stuff without worrying too much.” Jungkook said softly.

Oh.

“How’s work?” I asked awkwardly. The non conversation was getting tedious. There was just so much to talk about and it was obvious that both of us weren’t in the mood to actually ask or answer anything worthwhile.

“Did dad say something?” Jungkook asked quickly and I frowned.

“No. Why?”

“He wants me to join hyung in the corporate office. Leave the smelter units.” Jungkook sounded subdued and upset and I felt sympathy well inside me.

“Join him? As what?” I asked quietly.

“Head of the marketing department. I’ll be reporting to Seokjin hyung.” Jungkook had clearly started walking again, breath coming in little exhales.

“You don’t want it?” I asked confused, not sure if this was a good or bad thing.

“I mean… I have a degree in Business and Finance. Hyung’s the CEO , I was hoping I’d be the CFO.” Jungkook sighed, “ But I suppose I should be grateful he didn’t disown me altogether after what happened earlier.”

I stayed quiet and so did he.

“We need to talk . When you get back. You … I know you don’t like sharing about what you feel but you owe me an explanation.” I said firmly.

“I know. But I meant what I said when I left. I’m going to be there for you and the baby. You’re still my wife. That’s not going to change.”

I ran my fingers over the ultrasound.

“Did you also mean the part where you said you can’t stand me.” I said bitterly .

Jungkook didn’t reply.

“I… You know I didn’t. That was just something I said on impulse. I’m sorry. You’re… You’ve been nothing but good to me. And honestly, just the fact that you’re carrying my child is proof that I can definitely stand you.” He sounded just a little hoarse.

I bit my lips, staring up at the door when I heard a knock.

“Leah? I’m going to have some tea in the garden … You wanna come with?” Namjoon’s voice rang through the room and I froze.

“Oh.. Oh.. yes. I’ll be down.” I said quickly, nodding . Namjoon pointed at the phone and gave to thumbs up before moving back out.

“Was that Namjoon hyung?” Jungkook’s voice came over the line.

“Oh… yeah. Yeah, he’s… he wants me to have tea with him in the gardens.” I said awkwardly.

“That’s nice.  You should go. Get out of the house once in a while.” I didn’t know what to say to that so I stayed quiet.

After another minute or so of silence, Jungkook cleared his throat.

“ I got that form you sent in for me to fill, about my medical history. I’ll fill it up and mail it to the doctor’s office. Is that alright?” He asked hesitantly. “ If not I can fly back home. If they need me in person or something.”

I frowned a bit.

“They don’t need you in person, Jungkook of course not. Mail it, that’s fine.”

Another pause.

“This is really happening huh? A baby. We’re having a baby.” The exhaustion in his voice was palpable and I wondered.

“Yes. We are.” I said simply, not having anything else to elaborate on. It was happening. I was torn between pleasure at having something to look forward to and guilt at forcing Jungkook into a role he wasn’t ready for. But , for better or for worse we were married. The child was his. It would be a Jeon.

“ I’ll do better.” He said quietly. “ With the little one. I’ll be better.”

Tears these days, sprung up out of nowhere I thought miserably, furiously swiping at my face.

“Leah?” His voice came over the line. “ Leah are you there?”

“I need to go.”

“Alright.”

“Take care of yourself too, Jungkook.”

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

Loneliness .

It’s such an odd sort of feeling. Sometimes you get used to it so much, that you forget all about it.

It stays , a part of you that doesn’t make much of an impression on you until one day, suddenly it becomes unbearable,

Until you get a glimpse of what it’s like to not be lonely.

And then suddenly it’s like a deep chasm of longing and desperation just opens up inside you, craving love and warmth and company with a hunger that feels like it can never ever be satisfied.

I’d never paid much mind to the fact that my life revolved around myself, my writing and the flowers in the garden. Not until Namjoon had come, demanding to be felt and seen and heard .

 Namjoon hadn’t joked about not letting me rattle around the house. Our days were spent sprawled on the lawns of the Jeon estate, each of us occupied with our own writing . Namjoon typed away on his laptop while I preferred my leather bound notebook. It was oddly soothing, lying there on the clean cut grass, the sharp blades rubbing against my bare legs, as I leaned back against a tree trunk, watching Namjoon’s furrowed brows as he wrote.

Namjoon had changed in a lot of ways and yet he was still somehow just as I remembered, focused and often lost in his own head. He was a contemplative man and seemed to spend as much time reading as he did writing.

“There’s a poetry club that meets every Tuesday in Gangnam. Would you like to come with me?” He asked casually, about a week after he’d moved in and I considered it. The paparazzi had finally stopped hanging about the estate and Jungkook had called the previous night with a ETA for when he would be back.

Four weeks at most, he had said firmly and I wasn’t sure if I was feeling all that excited for his return anymore. Days spent with Namjoon were more exciting. He included me in every little thing and I was addicted.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was probably wrong. Namjoon was sweet and kind but I was still married. But on the wake of that thought came the bitter reminder that there was nothing between Jungkook and I. He was in love with someone else. Why should I deny myself the joy of Namjoon’s company over a relationship that really wasn’t a relationship at all.

Namjoon treated me as an equal, teased and flirted like there was nothing wrong with the two of us living like this, together and away from the rest of the world and I liked it. It made me feel like perhaps happiness wasn’t such an abstract, unreachable thing after all. That perhaps I could find happiness like this. In friendship and mindless conversation with a man who didn’t see me as a burden.

“I’d love that.” I said with a smile, letting my fingers knit together with his.

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

“Scorned wife getting even? We spotted the recently cheated on Mrs Jeon getting cozy with a strapping, buff hottie in a private restaurant last Friday and we can’t help but wonder if perhaps the reclusive lady is trying to get back at her husband by flashing her own boytoy.” Namjoon read cheerfully from his phone, looking way too entertained as he showed me the zoomed photo of us holding hands over the dinner table .

“That’s quite the description they’ve put for you.” I grimaced, sipping my chamomile tea slowly. My father and Mr. Jeon had reacted with their usual anger, threatening to sue the gossip rag for libel but it was pointless. They would keep being intrusive rats. There was nothing much to be done beyond enduring them.

“My agent’s losing his mind. He’s been at me trying to get me to agree to book signings and public appearances and he’s pissed that this is the way I get introduced to Seoul’s High society. Poor guy.” Namjoon chuckled and I felt guilt churn.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I really didn’t think they’d be following me. I mean… usually they’re only tailing Jungkook but I guess with the whole thing with Lisa , they’re just looking for ways to make things worse.” I said hesitantly.

Namjoon hesitated, staring at me for a few seconds.

“We never really talked about how things are.” He said quietly. “ Between you and Jungkook, that is.”

I ran the edge of my chopsticks on the brim of my soup bowl.

“ There’s not much to say. He’s…. He’s still sorting things out. With my sister.” I smiled a little. It ached a lot less, I realized with surprise.

“They loved each other deeply.” Namjoon said softly. “ that sort of thing doesn’t go away that quickly.”

I nodded.

“Of course. And I’ve been …understanding of that. I like to think.”

“But its unfair to you. You deserve to be loved too. Fully and well .”

I leaned back to stare at him.

“Are you offering?” I laughed, teasing.

Namjoon didn’t smile, leaning forward instead.

“Depends. Will you ever consider leaving him, for me?” He said seriously.

My heart turned over inside me.

“Namjoon…” I choked out and he reached out and lightly touched my palm.

“I know how marriages work with people like you, so I think I should draw boundaries now, if I want to keep myself safe.” He smiled a bit.

“I’m pregnant. With his child.” I swallowed and Namjoon’s brows went up.

“I thought it was your child. Yours and no one else’s.”

I felt torn, staring at him and wanting to say that I didn’t consider Jungkook as the child’s father, not in the way most people did. But I also remembered my husbands determined voice, the way he kept insisting that he wouldn’t neglect the child.

“Its not about Jungkook or the child, Leah. Its about you. You married Jungkook knowing he was in love with your sister and that tells me that you listen to your parents. You don’t want to stand up against the rules set by our parents and I don’t fault you for it. But I can’t let myself fall for you, knowing you’re going to be bound by your obligations to yurr family.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t fall in love with me.” I said easily. “ You’re right. My family comes first. And whether I want to be or not, I’m bound to Jungkook for life. So don’t fall in love with me.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Alright then.”

“Do you want to move out?” I asked bitterly and he looked genuinely surprised.

“What?”

“You clearly think I’m trying to seduce you or something when really, I-“

“Hey. Hey, Leah…no. No alright, that’s not what I meant. These two weeks, it was amazing. I love your mind and you’re easily one of my favorite people on this planet. We’re friends. And we’ll stay friends no matter what but you must know why I said what I said. You’re a beautiful woman and I’m a lonely guy.” He smiled a bit, “ I just don’t want to make it hard for myself when you want me to leave.”

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

Jungkook arrived back in Korea on a cold, rainy morning and against my better judgment I let Jihyun and Lisa drag me to the airport. It was some kind of publicity stunt, that much I could fathom but I didn’t know if Jungkook was in on it. I hadn’t spoken to him in a few days, he had been busy wrapping things up with the new branch in Japan.

It was another bad day for my leg and I found myself leaning heavily on my sister, her arm wrapped around my waist as we walked over to the waiting area. I could already identify a few men with cameras staring at us discreetly. Paparazzi . I saw them move their cameras down to the now obvious curve of my stomach and I swallowed. I could already imagine the articles wondering who the father was : Jungkook or Namjoon.

“You alright?” My sister asked worriedly and I nodded, not looking at her. Lisa hadn’t been discouraged by initial refusal to speak to her, keeping at it till I finally caved and let her visit me at the estate. She didn’t love Jungkook anymore, she insisted . It was over. They were over . She wanted to give her marriage a chance. Very sweet and nice, that. And it was obvious that she wasn’t lying, what with the way she and her husband kept

Jihyun and Lisa had made amends with each other and it annoyed me that they seemed to be madly in love with each other all of a sudden. Like the past couple months hadn’t even happened. I stared down at my wedding ring feeling stricken. Was it unfair that I resented them for this? Why hadn’t the two of them thought of this, of breaking things off and moving on before the damn wedding. And then maybe Jungkook and I would have had a real marriage too.

Bitter and hormonal was definitely not a good combination I thought with a wince, fingers splaying on the curve of my lower belly. It was so odd, being pregnant. The extra weight somehow foreign but also …so soothing. The last scan had shown that I had an anterior placenta and that meant that I may not feel movements for a while. I didn’t mind, having found comfort in just tracing my palm over the bare skin of my stomach.

“There he is.” Jihyun’s voice made me look up and ure enough there he was.

It wasn’t the longest we’d been away from each other and yet, I felt my heart leap at the sight of him. He truly was a very handsome man, I thought miserably. And no matter what people said, it was infinitely more difficult to hate your husband when he looked that good.

Jungkook’s eyes caught mine first and I saw the way his gaze dipped straight to the curve of my bump. Even from the ten feet between us , I saw hi lips part in surprise , eyes going wide. It probably hadn’t felt real to him till now, I thought biting my lips as he carefully handed his bags over to the two chauffeurs who had rushed to help him.

Jihyun wasted no time in bounding over and hugging his little brother tight.

I glanced at the man who had been taking photos, pleased to see the surprise in his face. Was he hoping that the CEO would punch his little brother in the face ? Idiots. Lisa stayed by my side and I exhaled shakily.

“ Dad told me something and I want to know if its true.” I said quietly.

She didn’t reply.

I took a deep breath, still watching the two brothers embrace each other, Jungkook’s face buried in Jihyun’s shoulders. I could see him shaking just a little and I felt my gut clench.

“He told me that …that you never told him that you wanted to marry Jungkook. That when he suggested Jihyun you agreed at once.”

She looked away.

“Lets talk about this later.” She said quietly.

“Does Jungkook know?” I demanded. “ Because he spent that first month of our marriage cursing our father out for forcing you to marry Jihyun. Forcing. And dad says that he did no such thing. So what is the truth.”

Lisa didn’t respond.

“Jungkook  knows.” She said finally, “ I told him… the truth. When we were in Japan.” and I laughed in disbelief.

“Was that before or after you kissed him?” I snapped and she looked genuinely pained.

“Leah, I never meant to hurt you or Jungkook.” She said shakily.

“My God.” I shook my head. “ I always knew you were a selfish, greedy person but I didn’t take you for being a liar and a deceitful coward. ”

She stared down at her feet.

“Yes. I’m greedy..”  She whispered “ And you may not understand it now but I did it for you and for Jungkook.”

She moved away and I watched as Jihyun pulled away from Jungkook, still holding his arm as he held a hand out to Lisa. The smile on her face seemed genuine as she took her husband’s hand and I shifted my gaze to mine. Jihyun and Lisa walked away to their car and Jungkook stepped closer to me, his face stoic and impossible to read.  

“Leah.” He said quietly, dark hair falling into even darker eyes.

I didn’t reply, merely stepping up to gently press my palms on either side of his face.

“Welcome back.” I said softly, before reaching up and kissing him full on the lips. Jungkook’s entire body went stiff as a board at the gesture but he didn’t pull away , thankfully. It felt cold and impersonal and barely lasted a few seconds but hopefully the man had gotten a few good shots. I closed my eyes for effect, running my thumb over the clean shaven curve of his jaw, before pulling away slowly.

I peered over Jungkook’s shoulder, just to make sure and sure enough, the man was moving closer to get better angles. I smiled a little. Good. That should hold these vultures off for a while. I turned back to Jungkook and his eyes followed my gaze catching sight of the man with the camera and his entire body seemed to go stiff with anger.

“Why did you do that?” He growled and I bit my lips.

“You know why.” I made to turn away but he gripped my arm, hard. So hard that I winced.

“What are you doing?” I asked panicking, glancing at the man who was still watching.

“Since when did you start pandering to those pigs?” He whispered angrily and I flinched.

“Your father wants to introduce you to the Board of directors this weekend.” I whispered quietly, “Most of them read the news Jungkook. The last news about us can’t be about you cheating on me.”

“That’s my business. And I’ll deal with it. We’re not doing this, Leah. I’m not putting on some kind of act just to please my fucking father.” He looked furious and the taut line of his jaw made me flinch.

“I’m sorry.” I said quickly, guilt churning inside me. He was right. I shouldn’t have done that without talking to him about it but I knew that the scandal with him and Lisa wouldn’t go down well with the Board. And the Board generally had a direct say on who got hired to top managerial positions.

“I just want you to get that job.” I said softly and he stared at me, stiff body relaxing marginally.

“Let’s just go home. Yeah?” Jungkook said tiredly and I bit my lips.

Less than fifteen minutes since he came home and we were already at odds with each other.

The most ill suited couple in the universe, I thought with a grimace as he stepped right next to me and wrapped a hand around my waist.

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

I had a very terrible tendency to forget taking my pills. So I generally left them by the bedside table. Stepping out of the shower, I found Jungkook sitting on my side of the bed, examining the bottle carefully. I tugged on the white t shirt I had on, suddenly embarrassed because it was Jungkook’s

I’d asked to borrow a couple over the phone,  simply because I no longer fit into my own and the ones I’d ordered weren’t here yet. Jungkook had agreed but still, it felt awkward when he was wearing the exact same t shirt himself.

He turned around when I moved to the vanity to put on moisturizer for the night and through the reflection I saw his gaze linger on my attire.

“Aspirin? Didn’t know that was part of pre natal vitamins?” He said seriously and I blinked., surprised. I turned around to stare at him, licking my lips nervously.

“How much research did you do?” I asked, genuinely curious and he flushed.

“I had a lot of free time. “ He said defensively. “ These six weeks.”

I frowned, before turning back to grab the small pot of night cream from the draw.

“My blood pressure is a little elevated. My mother had pre eclampsia with my sister and they just want to be careful.”

“Pre eclampsia?” Jungkook’s voice was fraught with nervousness and I turned back to see him almost white as a sheet.

“Jungkook…I.. its nothing serious.” I said hastily and his jaw went even more taut.

“What do you mean its not serious? Do you even know what it is?” He demanded.

“Do you?” I snapped back, annoyed at being treated like I was an errant child.

“I know that it’s the leading cause of maternal death during birth.” He all but shouted and I flinched.

“Okay…that’s only in extreme cases.” I held both my hands up. “ it’s a bit too premature to be panicking over that.”

Jungkook opened his mouth, as though to argue but then seemed to calm himself down.

“When’s your next check up?” He asked casually.

“This weekend. But its okay, Namjoon is-“

“I’ll come with you. I.. I want to come with you.” He said quietly.

I stared at him, feeling too awkward to outright refuse.

“You have the meeting with the Board. This weekend.” I said softly.

“So?” Jungkook shrugged. “ I’ll just tell them your appointment and health is more important to me. Besides isn’t that what you wanted? The reason you kissed me at the airport? You want the board to think we’re happily in love. I think that would be an excellent way to show them that. ”

Jungkook stared at me , head tilted curiously, daring me to deny what I had old him myself.

Sighing, I nodded.

“Alright.” I managed a weak smile. “ You can come with me.”

“Namjoon hyung left today, you said?” He asked casually.

I nodded.

“I should send him a bottle of his favorite wine for taking care of you so well. You look good.”

“He did it because he wanted to. Because he enjoyed it.” I retorted, his words rubbing me just a little wrong.

Jungkook smiled although it was more of a smirk.

“I’m sure he did. But I’m here now. And I did promise you that I’ll be there for you.”

“For the baby.” I said sharply, not liking the way he looked. The things he seemed to b implying.” You promised me you’d be there for the baby.”

“And right now, said baby is inside you.” He grinned now and I felt my pulse quicken at the sight. Jungkook didn’t smile with me. It wasn’t something that happened. At all. “ So I’ll have to take care of you.”

I stared at him, biting my lips.

“What are you doing?” I demanded. “My sister told you she never wanted you so now you want to start fucking me again?”

It was cruel. A terrible thing to say and I regretted it at once.

The smile faded.

“What?”

“ I…fuck Jungkook.” I groaned.

“is that what you think of me? Need I remind you that you were the one who came to me all those months ago? I never…. I would never force myself on you, Leah.” He looked like he’d been stabbed and I heart clenched.

“Jungkook , I…”

“I’ve been honest. Through all of this I’ve been honest to you. I lied to your sister, I lied to my father and fuck I even lied to myself. But I’ve been honest with you , Leah.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?!” I cried out, despairing. “ You were in love with my sister and –“

“And she wanted to marry my brother.” Jungkook yelled, standing up and turning to me, eyes blazing. “  All along. Know what she told me Leah? That it was never supposed to be me. That five years of us being together…it was because she was in love with my brother and she couldn’t bear the thought of being alone. She started dating me to make him jealous and when she saw that I spent so much time with Jihyun she stuck around . So she could spend time with him.” He shook his head.

I stared at him, horrified.

“Jungkook….”

“I thought I could never feel more pathetic than when I stood there listening her tel me how she never felt a single thing for me. But wow…. Thank you for proving me wrong. Because right now, standing here begging you to let me a part of the child we both made knowing you only see me as some kind of pervert just looking to get into your bed….” he shook his head,” I feel worse. I feel dirty.”

My throat went dry.

“You know what?” He moved to the closet and to my horror he grabbed a bunch of his clothes and a small suitcase. “ I’m going to go get a Hotel room.”

“What? No… Jungkook, wait!” I rushed to his side, grabbing his arm but he threw my hand off quickly.

“Ask Namjoon hyung to move back in. Better yet, tell dad the truth. That you think I’m disgusting. That the thought of me being in your life makes you sick. Tell him you want a divorce and-“

“It’s a girl.” I exhaled sharply.

Jungkook went completely still.

I swallowed, my heart racing so fast I couldn’t catch my breath.

I took a deep breath and moved to lightly touch his back, fingers splaying on the broad expanse of his shoulder blade .

He turned around at that and my heart lurched at the tear tracks down his cheeks. He looked wrecked.

“ A girl?” He whispered.

I bit my lips, nodding.

“We’re having a little girl.” He looked a little shell shocked.

“Yes. And hopefully, she isn’t as dramatic as her father.” I said softly, grabbing the dozen or so t shirts he’d pulled out of the closet and pushing them back into the shelves.

Jungkook didn’t protest, still staring into space, probably just taking the news in. I felt awful for one second because I hadn’t even cared all that much when the technician had told me.

I closed the closet door and moved back to the vanity trying to process all that had been said in the last five minutes, only to feel a headache come on. I would think about it tomorrow.

I finished braiding my hair when Jungkook’s voice came from the bed.

“If you don’t want me to intrude into your space you can tell me. I’m okay with only getting information about the baby.” He said quietly.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

I turned to him slowly. i took a deep breath, considered that what i was going to say would likely change everything between us. But i had to. 

I’ve always been honest with you Leah, He had said and I decided that perhaps he deserved some honesty in return.

“I think I’m in love with Namjoon.” 

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

Author’s Note : these two are such a mess istg. 

ooh i don’t have a taglist for this so please comment if you wanna be on it. 

[jessmalia]

heartless | 09. the burden of knowledge

pairing: henry mills x oc a/n: season 2 here we go! i fully think this will be even better than season 1. max knows who she is now so we can really focus and go in on that! such good angst. some fluff too. warnings: just plain angst. also not edited. wordcount: 1246

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The curse was broken.

  The curse was broken. Emma had broken it with the power of true love. Operation Cobra was complete. Henry had proven that he was right all along. The people had their memories back; they were themselves again. It should be a joyous occasion, and it was.

  For everyone except Max.

  She stood and watched from afar as friends and families reunited, an outsider to their happiness, because, unlike them, she had nothing good to remember. Still, she didn’t regret helping Henry break the curse. Everyone except her had benefited from it. This was just a necessary evil. Max was simply someone that was meant to suffer; she remembered that now.

  She didn’t say anything as the others discussed how magic was back, stopped the mob from murdering Regina, and locked her in a cell. She kept quiet when Ruby drove her and Henry to Emma and Mary Margret’s apartment to keep them out of danger. Her silence lasted until Ruby had left and she was alone with Henry, because she knew there was no longer any way to avoid speaking.

  He didn’t waste a second to bring it up. “You have your memories back now. You can finally tell me about everything.”

  “Yes.”

  “So you’re really a mermaid,” Henry smiled.

  Max cleared her throat. “Um… yeah, I’m a mermaid. I lost my ability to travel between worlds a while back, though. Pissed off a witch. Apparently, they don’t like it when you steal their stuff.”

  Henry sat down on the couch, and Max took a seat beside him. “How did you get legs?” he asked.

  “The usual,” Max chuckled. “Made a deal with someone with magic.” Seeing the look on Henry’s face, Max was quick to add, “Don’t worry, the prize wasn’t much. They just needed a little help.”

  He nodded. “That’s good.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed, biting her lip. “You ever noticed that I never take this off?” she asked, gripping the necklace hanging around her neck.

  Henry’s brows drew together. “No… but now that you point it out, I don’t think I’ve seen you without it.”

  “Well, it’s what gives me legs,” she said.

  “And about–”

  “The PTSD? Yeah, um…” This was what Max had dreaded. Henry cared about her, so there was no getting out of this. She had to tell him something.

  As she told Henry about her past, her face was blank and unexpressive and her voice was steady and monotone, as if she was simply forced to read an uninteresting Wikipedia page out loud. “My mom was only with my dad because she was forced into an arranged marriage. He was the equivalent of mermaid nobility. She didn’t love him, because, well, because he was a terrible person. When she got pregnant with me, she tried escaping, so I didn’t have to be raised by him. She fled here, actually. Maybe she thought they’d have a harder time tracking her down if they couldn’t use magic. She gave birth to me here, but soon the guards my dad had sent found us. She fought back the best she could, but they ended up killing her. I was brought back to my dad, and I lived with him until I was ten, when I ran– well, swam away. He probably tried looking for me, too, but he wouldn’t think to do it on land.”

  “I’m so sorry,” said Henry, reaching out and taking her hand. Max quickly removed it from his grip.

  “I’m fine now.”

  “So that’s what your nightmares were about?”

  “Yeah,” Max lied. “That was it.”

–––

“People of Storybrooke… I know we’re trapped again, and things look… bleak. But, they’re not–” David cut himself off while practicing the “inspiring” speech he was supposed to make in two hours.

  “No, keep going,” said Henry. “You were onto something.”

  He really was too nice. That was terrible.

  “No, I wasn’t,” said David. “I did the fighting,” he explained. “Snow did the talking.

  Max’s eyebrows drew together. “What, like some sort of weird Enchanted-Forest-twist on a 50s marriage?”

  David didn’t answer. He simply walked over to his messenger bag and pulled out a charred hat, staring at it longingly. Recognition washed over Henry’s face as his eyes landed on the hat.

  “Can I see that?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” said David, handing it to him with a surprised expression.

  “I think I know what this is,” said Henry. He jogged over to where the storybook was laying open on the dinner table, and Max and David followed him. “It’s the Mad Hatter’s hat,” he said, pointing at a picture of that very same man. “It’s a portal between worlds.”

  David leaned down closer. “Mad Hatter?”

  “You’ve heard of him?”

  “No. I– I mean, yeah. I mean, the prince-me doesn’t know him, but David had memories of reading Alice in Wonderland in school. I need to get it to work again. Who is he? Uh, I mean– who is he here?”

  “I don’t know,” said Henry. “Maybe he’ll check in at the crisis center. You could check after the thing.”

  “Um, the meeting you were just practicing a terrible speech for,” said Max. “You know, where you tell us all your plan.”

  “Right,” said David absentmindedly, grabbing the burnt hat and his coat. “I’ll be back for that.”

–––

Max stormed into Regina’s house, walking just behind David. She’d taken Henry, and they needed him back.

  “I wanna see him!” said David, whipping his sword out in front of Regina. Max had her own hand secured around the hilt of her dagger, resting in the holster strapped around her jeans. One good thing about the curse now being broken was that she could walk around with a weapon strapped to her without anyone batting an eye.

  Regina didn’t answer right away. She just stared at David, a look in her eye that Max couldn’t quite get a read on.

  “Henry, come down!” she finally called out, then went back to staring at David. “You won’t be using your sword–”

  “Whatever you conjure, I can fight.”

  Regina sighed. “I mean, you won’t need your sword,” she said, gently pushing the blade aside.

  Henry came down the stairs then, and she walked up to meet him. “Henry, you’re gonna go home with David.”

  He looked over at David and Max for a moment before asking, “Really?”

  “Really. I shouldn’t have brought you here. I was… I don’t know how to love very well. I wasn’t capable of it for a very long time, but I know, I remember, that if you hold on to someone too hard, it doesn’t make them love you. I’m sorry I lied to you. That I made you feel like I didn’t know who you are. I want you to be here because you want to be here. Not because I forced you, and not because of magic. I want to redeem myself. Go get your things.”

  Henry nodded slowly before turning back and running up the stairs.

  “Then prove it,” said David.

  Regina looked back at him. “How?”

  “Answer one question. Does it exist?”

  “What?”

  “The Enchanted Forest. Our land. Does it still exist?”

  Regina walked back down to stand in front of him again. “Yes. But I have no idea how to get back there.” She tilted her head. “I can see I just launched you on a heroic quest. Just also make sure you take care of my son.”

  “That’s what I’m here for,” said Max.

heartless taglist: @jochase​

[trashlie]

in which nol is incapable of resisting friendship (part two)

It’s no secret that episode 179 has set me off on a deeper wave of ILY brainrot and I am incapable of shutting up. This is a follow up to my last post, which was largely just me revisiting some old ILY scenes leading up to and including the formal, re-examining some scenes that had always given me some pause win the light of what we’ve recently learned and with Nol’s general mindset. 

This is a companion piece, that doesn’t really require you read the one prior, that visits something I’ve been thinking about since around 151, which is the way that though Nol has made it his mission to walk out of his friends lives and yet, we see him struggle at that with Shinae. I once noted that Nol is very much like Minhyuk in that both of them seem incapable of resisting trying to help her even though they know well enough she can take care of herself and somehow that seems a little more significant now.

It’s kind of weird, but finding out that Nol had never intended to truly be with friends with anyone - that he thought he could just enter these peoples’ lives and help them and then leave when his good deed was done - makes the friendships he formed so much more special to me. He never intended to really be a friend, to care about them, but in the end, he couldn’t help it. It brings us here, to a post-Kim-formal Nol who has already decided to walk out of everyone’s lives but finds it’s not that easy to do, or to stop caring. 

I do believe he had every intention of it and even had Yui not played dirty at the formal, Nol would have been off to Oxford and wouldn’t have looked back. I’m not saying he wouldn’t have felt guilty, but it’s pretty easy to compare Nol to a feral cat; there’s a couple people he’s grown comfortable with but the moment he sees that opening he’s taking off and breaking free. Obviously his methods were never right and frankly, the idea that he could just walk out of everyone’s lives and they’d be better for it, without ever giving them the option to choose, was unfair and wrong, but I also get it, to some degree. Especially in light of the arrest, the upcoming jail sentence, he’s cagey and ready to be gone. He already believes no one is going to miss him or care when he’s gone. In fact, to this point, we already know that he had no idea how important a friend he was becoming to Shinae, what their experiences at the Kim forma did to strengthen her attachment to him. He even states outright that he had no idea she felt that way about him, that he was important to meant anything to her. 

Something I find especially interesting is that while Nol has every intention of leaving, booking it to the UK and exiting their lives, a fleeting memory of a kid who helped these people in their hard times, we still see the way he’s drawn to his friends - or at least to Shinae. We don’t really see Nol with his friends after the formal and I imagine it’s because he’s purposefully keeping his distance, whereas with Shinae, he doesn’t have that option given how much they’re around each other working in the same building. 

It cannot be denied that he’s cagey as hell, keeping his distance, careful to keep Shinae at bay and yet, despite this, he always gets drawn back in.

Nol can’t help it - at this point he legitimately cares.

Especially with Shinae, I think this goes even deeper, because we now know that the only reason Nol even resurfaced in that pool was Shinae. As he much as he was saving her, she saved him too, although I imagine he doesn’t exactly view it that way. (In a way, the task of saving Shinae can almost be seen as a burden; though he was ready to let everything end then, he felt emburdened to help her, and that meant denying himself something he craved, but I think in time we’ll see him change his feelings about that.) They both are still here because of each other, and I think that’s a bond that will play into their relationship as they recalibrate their friendship. 

Even as early as the day after the formal we can see Nol drawing his distance, and it’s not because he promised Kousuke he’ll minimize his interactions with Shinae, but his own choosing. He throws his phone after seeing her calls - but he still cares. I like this detail a lot because it’s something I puzzled over a lot before, but now it’s clear that he tried not to return the call because he knew she’d be worried, because he needed to create space between them, because he needed to be able to walk away. But he can’t. He doesn’t want her to worry, or maybe deep down he likes the idea of her concern, that someone he cares about might also care about him. I still love that whole scene, their exchange on the phone with the hugged pillows and concern and we see a bit of the real Nol peeking out - no forced smiles or masks, just a weary, tired boy who has been through too much too young and has so much on his shoulders, and his friend so concerned about him despite her own injuries. I think it reads as so very honestly them and I hope we see more of those scenes - relying on each other, caring about each other, lending a shoulder of support. Though Nol doesn’t actually open up on that call, I like to hope we’ll see him learn to do that.

There’s a number of moments that I think carry new weight with what we now know about Nol and his intentions to leave everyone behind that I want to touch on.

On Shinae’s first day of work, we were able to get the sense of Nol being evasive - he can’t just avoid her, but he makes no point to linger in her presence, even when he finds her on the floor in the elevator. Shinae is very aware that something is off, and while you can argue that it’s because he’s not acting like Yeonggi, I think it’s more that she’s honing in on Nol’s evasive behavior. He’s doing the bare minimum as a friend but he’s also leaving a lot of space between them. In fact, Nol even states “It’s not like I’ll be disappearing any time soon” with his eyes closed - a lie, because he knows he will be.  Yet, on her second day when she’s late, Nol takes it upon himself not only to take the fall for why she’s late, but also go to and pick her up, which is above and beyond, for someone who is pointedly distancing himself from Shinae. 

Nol has no obligation to help - he could just talk to Kousuke like she asked without going through the motions of going to retrieve her and yet he chooses to. It’s a small but big detail - something I’ve always called out - Nol’s helplessness in refuting Shinae. It would be so easy for him to do exactly what she asked, to simply talk to Kousuke and leave it at that but he doesn’t, and it’s beyond his grapple for absolution, because he knows by this point that this is a friend he cares about and he wants to help and when Shinae needs that assistance, he finds himself beholden to doing that and minimizing the trouble she could be in. Obviously part of it is because the excuse he used was dependent on him being Shinae’s ride to work, so retrieving her was the only way to make it believable, but he could have come up with any number of excuses on her behalf. I think it’s a nice demonstration of how even though Nol should be keeping his distance, it’s difficult for him to successfully do it. He’s only good at avoiding them when he doesn’t actually have to face or talk to them. 

Because he’s picking her up, we’re treated to that cute conversation they have about Dieter and his feelings for Shinae, but also Nol gets to witness the way she uses words that he has used on her when Dieter does the very kind of self-beating-up that she’s prone to. His smile is cute - realizing that he has, indeed, helped her, and that help is now going on to help others. Maybe he feels some sort of comfort, knowing that he’ll be leaving Shinae a better friend and person? 

I would not be me if I didn’t yell into the night about episode 93, which is actually what prompted me to write this whole thing, all the way to part one, in the first place, because there’s a line that REALLY stood out to me after reading 179. I’ve talked about this a lot before but to reiterate, Nol has made his decision to leave his friends and let them “move on” without him, and yet at every opportunity, he finds himself concerned. You could argue that he’s rankled about how Kousuke treats Shinae because of his own feelings about Kousuke, and certainly that likely colors it, but Nol understands how much is being thrown at her with so little breathing room. He also understands being tossed into the sea and expected to sink or swim. Nol clearly cares that too much is being expected of Shinae, who is still a student, who has so many other issues going on at home, and he can’t help but caring about it. 

When he follows that he’s going overboard as her friend again, I think it’s a very honest moment for Nol. Unlike before when he forced friendship on her for his own gain, now he cares about the line she drew, now he’s being that good friend, again despite his intentions. Nol is also being more honest than usual with Shinae. I think there’s something more to his surprise that Shinae went ahead and invited Kousuke to the party, because Nol’s personal intentions were bad, because he wanted to make Kousuke feel uncomfortable the way he’s been doing to Shinae. It’s revenge-y and it does make Nol look bad - but he doesn’t realize Shinae, too, feels the same. It’s one of those moments of their mirroring that’s really laid out - Nol didn’t expect her to do it because he doesn’t know she, too, felt the same way he does, that she, too, was feeling upset with the way she’s been treated by Kousuke. 

The way Nol sits, angled away from her like earlier in the locker room, despite how honest he’s being, revealing these small, secret parts of himself that he keeps under lock and key, revealing the depth of his concern and care. I love how very at odds it is - that he wants to stop, that he’s trying not to, he’s angled away he’s trying to create that distance but he still can’t help the honesty that comes out. He still can’t help the caring.

I feel like there’s so much new weight to this line. He’s saying it for Shinae’s benefit - that though he knows she’s capable of taking care of herself and fighting her own battles, as a friend he still is going to care about her and worry. But given that, until some weeks ago, he was convincing himself these relationships meant nothing, that these friendships were one sided had no hold, to admit out loud “That won’t stop me from caring” is a confession not only of his attempt to respect Shinae’s wishes but also an admission of his own truth. No matter what, no matter how he tries, he cannot stop himself from caring. 

Shinae is an important friend, someone he cares about, someone who matters and it can’t be undone anymore. 

Maybe that’s the source of his frustration? That these people who were meant to mean nothing now mean everything and, moreso, they care about him in return. No one but Nana does that, no one plays attention to the little details or his an earbud that’s fallen to the ground, but now he has friends like Shinae who express so much concern over him. Does he wish he could stay? Does he wish he could indulge in those relationships though he knows (according to his logic) no good can come of it? When he immediately texts Dieter, I still think he’s trying to tie up loose ends - if he can help ensure Dieter and Shinae’s friendship, they can be better off together in his absence, maybe? That lingering look of frustration, though - I don’t think it’s that he’s developing feelings, so much as he realizes how much he cares, how much he wants to indulge, how much he wants to be cared about in return and how dangerous it is for him to entertain these notions. 

idk I’m endlessly obsessed with that episode and what it means for Nol to be unable to help himself from caring, despite how much he never meant to. 

And on this topic, the other favorite episode to fixate on and overanalyze, 117. 

I love this one a lot because we have Shinae becoming more aware of Nol’s evasive attitude and calling him out on it. As natural as he tries to be, he fails, and yet even though he could escape while she’s working, he instead gives Shinae his word and stays to her break as promised. It’s like, even though what he’s doing isn’t really being a good friend - that is, this game of friendship where he doesn’t tell her he plans on leaving, maintaining friendship in these little pockets of time but with every intention to leave and ghost everyone - he still can’t help but be a good friend. Shinae is worried that he’s avoiding her (and he is!) so he stays to assuage  her feelings. 

I’m sure it’s been wondered before but, what is Nol even doing hanging out there? He knows she works there and will be around shortly - does he secretly want to see her and talk? Maybe it’s just that it’s the nearest place he can escape and be alone, but again, the point still stands that he knows she’ll be by at some point. Maybe he just wasn’t counting on her working the night he was sitting there? He’s clearly avoiding going home or staying at work, so I’m not sure we can assume he is acting on a secret desire to have a moment with a friend, but the fact that the only option he’s got is the very place the friend he’s avoiding works isn’t in his favor. Either way, we know the weight of everything is hanging heavy over him and he’s drowning. 

So it’s no surprise that Nol, once again, opens up JUST a smidge. All in all, he’s hardly revealed his true self to Shinae, but there’s a handful of moments that he kind of starts. Is it because he believes he’ll still be gone by the end of the year and he’s allowed to let himself open up a bit? Or is it just a moment of weak vulnerability, where he can’t help open up a little. Nol has made such an effort to take care of his friends that I think he probably can’t help but want that in return, even though as he’s noting, he doesn’t know if he should be allowed that. 

No matter what he does, he feels like things get worse, like he doesn’t DESERVE to come out on top. And yet, for a moment, he indulges in friendship. He indulges in the comfort of sharing your burdens and opening up to someone and feeling, for a moment, like he’s allowed to want for better. 

I think that might be why he shares his music with Shinae, too? Again, I wonder if this is because he believes soon he’ll be gone and these are selfish pockets of friendship stolen for himself, that won’t matter soon. Because, again, this is such an intimate episode, with him opening up (a fraction lol) and sharing one of his favorite songs with his head tucked so close to Shinae, who lately has done nothing but show concern about him. 

The ambiguous “I like this” reads a little differently now - Nol has denied himself “real” friendships so long, has denied himself the opportunity to really engage with people, that the moments he’s spared with Shinae, Dieter, and Soushi probably are unique for him, something he hasn’t really experienced otherwise. I like this - the feeling of companionship and being seen, of someone who is concerned and cares about you? Of sharing a private part of yourself and being met not with revulsion but actual concern? 

Knowing what we now know about Nol and his intentions, the way he tried so hard to carry these fake friendships and help people without growing attached, idk it just makes these scenes feel a little more special. It’s the inevitability of it that gets to me - that he went in expecting one thing and in the end he couldn’t help who he became, couldn’t help the care that developed. It also makes the way he avoided them ring even more painfully - because the whole time he did that, he, too, wanted to reach back out. He, too, wanted to return to them, but his beliefs had clouded his judgment. 

With that in mind, it makes me rethink some things in 151, too. 

Before, I had thought that when Nol hugged Shinae, it was because he felt bad that his actions made her doubt their friendship, that it killed him for them to part with her thinking that. But it was true! So much of their friendship was a lie! At least, it was founded on a lie, built upon lies. To Shinae, it was an important friendship, one that meant a lot to her, and she was finding that maybe she was never really as important to him as he was to her. We know now that’s not the case, but she didn’t know that at the moment.

Nol doesn’t finally reach out and hug Shinae to reassure her; he does it as an act of apology. He does it because he realizes how much he’s hurt her, how his quest for absolution has, yet again, hurt people regardless of his intentions. 

Don’t get me wrong - I’m sure the hug is also some kind of reassurance, but above all, it IS an apology, because she is right and she’s calling him out even though she doesn’t realize how right she is. It all began a lie and he tried so hard to keep it a lie but he couldn’t help but come to care, and now he’s hurt her - now she’s hurt again and it’s his fault - and he cares about if he hurts her and he knows (believes) he can’t stick around and he hugs her because it’s such a messy tangle of feelings and idk having this additional layer of knowledge makes it SO bittersweet. Nol being faced with just how much he’s hurt Shinae and the regret and apology and all the things he cannot yet say. 

Idk man, knowing that Nol never intended to truly be their friend but couldn’t help but come to care about them, couldn’t help but fall into real friendship will always have me howling because boy do I know a noble fool on a quest he cannot fully commit to. 

[oopsimbug]

in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two

a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug

pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader

summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing

word count: 5.3k

It had been a week.

One gruelling, painfully long week.

Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.

About how he fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.

But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.

But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-

He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.

But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.

That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.

He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“

Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?

*

This is pathetic she thought.

I’m pathetic.

She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.

What am I doing?

The answer?

Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.

But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.

Wow, she thought.

Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-

Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?

Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.

One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.

“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.

“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.

“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.

But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.

“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.

“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.

Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.

Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.

What is he thinking about?

**

What is she thinking about?

It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?

He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.

It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.

To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.

And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.

***

The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.

It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.

Say something!!

“So…’

Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.

Y/n was choking.

“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.

“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”

“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.

“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.

What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?

“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.

Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?

“So, are we good?”

“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”

“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.

There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.

“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?

“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him

“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”

Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.

“What does that mean, H?”

He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “

“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?

“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”

Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”

“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”

Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.

Holy fucking shit… he loves me…

While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.

“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”

****

She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.

“Please,”

She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.

Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.

[bokutoslittlebird]

I’m Sorry

Alpha!Ushijima x Beta!f!reader x Alpha!Oikawa

Warnings: THIS IS A SEQUEL to Regrets, intention of suicide, suicidal thoughts and actions [overdose, cutting, falling], mentions of self harm [overdose and cutting], angst, pregnancy, bonding mention, I did not look up Argentina resident rules

The rain was heavy today.

You felt as if it was the universe’s way of saying it was sorry for you. The ride back to school would be in the pouring rain that matched the gloominess of your heart, only to enter a campus where nobody wanted anything to do with you. His scent was all over you; despite being a Beta, you could feel it. You had been claimed and nobody would dare try and claim Ushijima Wakatoshi’s mate, despite the fact you’re not his mate.

Sobbing did little to ease the ache in your chest, eyes blotched from the constant tears and your nose sniffling as you tried to wipe away snot with your sleeves. Your sleeves, not his sleeves of a jacket you stole. Reading stories of how an Alpha would bestow their mate clothing would always warm your heart, but sitting on a dirty busstop with nobody but the rain beside you, your heart felt cold.

“What are you doing?” Someone asked. Your head snapped up to see a brunet looking down at you, his attire telling you he was dressed to run. Running? In pouring rain? What an idiot. He was gorgeous, though, hair collecting silver droplets that seemed to only accentuate his features. Your eyes trail down to the black collar adorning his neck, hidden beneath the white and blue jacket he wore. He quirked an eyebrow, giving off a small chuckle. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,”

“More like an idiot running in rain. What’s up with that?” You sniffle, rubbing at your raw nose and cursing the timing. An Alpha coming on a claimed Beta alone — words don’t need to be spoken for the other man to know why you’re crying. But instead of running off, he sits next to you. “You’re gonna get me wet, weirdo,”

“Well if I sit too close, I’d get snot on me, so maybe I’d be better keeping my distance, anyways,” he shoots back, barely batting an eye. You just scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Someone seems to have a problem with me. I don’t even know who you are, stranger,” you give off a grin, trying to keep up the light tone.

“Well, you’re wearing a Shiratorizawa jacket and you stink like Ushiwaka, so can you blame me for being a bit of an ass?” He says, grinning. Though you were keeping a light tone, his words quickly reminded you of the position you’re in. Gloomy day, pouring rain, busstop. Looking back to the ground, you sigh heavily.

“Well, at least it’s the most interaction I’ve had all day. Ushijima’s got a stick up his ass and no funny bone in his body, so I suppose if this is my last interaction, it’s better than him,” you off handedly say. The man beside you quirks his eyebrow once more, your words settling into his brain before he’s leaning closer to you. His shadow moves towards you, making you jump back. “What are you doing?”

“You’re pregnant,” he flat out says. Before you can shoot anything back, his eyes get sad as he pulls himself back some more. “You’re going to kill yourself because he abandoned you?”

“How-” you sputter, tears springing to your eyes once more, “how did you-”

“You know if he’s abandoned you, another Alpha can take claim, right? You’re not worthless,”

“Easy for you to say. I’m a Beta with an Alpha’s bond mark. An Alpha that doesn’t even want to talk to me. My family and friends have turned their backs on me because it’s my fault. I wouldn’t expect an Alpha to understand the other party’s feelings,” you say, wiping away the tears. Despite trying to appear strong, your eyes are wet and there’s snot running down your face. “No Alpha wants Ushijima Wakatoshi’s leftovers. Don’t make me laugh,”

“Well, a cute little Beta would look better with a genuine smile then tears in their eyes, wouldn’t you agree?” He smiles, rubbing your cheek, but you slap away his hand.

“Stop patronizing me. You sound like a creepy old man. Who even are you?”

“Oh, I didn’t think I had to introduce myself. I’m Oikawa Tōru,” he smiles once more, a genuine smile, as he holds out his hand. “And if there’s someone who hates Ushiwaka more than you, it’s me,”

“[Y/N]. You’re from Seijoh, right?” You shake his hand, although it’s brisk. His nod confirms your suspicions. The captain of the team that never beat Ushijima’s team, but always aimed for the top. Ushijima also mentioned how talented Seijoh’s setter was, but you never expected to be sitting on a busstop next to the man himself. “Well, you’ve gotten my life story and told me you hate Ushijima, so I guess it’s time for you to go back to running in the rain,”

“Nah, I can’t,” he shrugs, but you look at him confused, waiting for him to continue. Eventually, you ask him why. “Well, I can’t leave someone in need alone. If I leave, you’ll still kill yourself. You’re hurting and I can’t just abandon you. I’m not like other Alphas, you know.” You know his reference is to only Ushijima, but it warms your stomach nonetheless, seeing someone actually be there for you.

“I’m sorry you had to meet me then. If you hadn’t stopped, we’d both be blissfully unaware of each other’s presence,” you say, letting a sob wrack your body before covering it with a cough. “Guess I’m the weirdo getting sick,”

“Still thinking there’s no other option, huh?”

“Well what do you expect? You’re the only person who hasn’t told me to face my consequences on my own and turned your back on me. There really is no reason for me to stay here, especially if I have to raise a child without a support system. I’m still in high school, what the fuck,” you huff, running your hand through your hair, looking up at the sky, noticing how the rain has eased up and the sky is brighter. “I’ll be out when it comes, but the fact of the matter is I’ll graduate pregnant, who wants to go through that? I’m basically a cheap slut in everybody’s eyes. I just wanted to feel needed by someone I admire and this is what it results in? The more I think about it the more I want to down a bottle of painkillers and never wake up.”

“If nobody is sticking up for you, then maybe they’re not your real friends. Fair weather friends, only there for good tea and sunny days. If there’s nobody there for you, reach out for help,”

“I don’t want to be a burden,”

“People who will help you willingly won’t see it that way. Me sitting here with you isn’t burdening me, and I haven’t turned from you. I know we just met, but I want to help you. There’s a lot to live for and one setback doesn’t deserve to sever that line before you’ve even gotten to the good part. Good people exist, you just need to find them,”

“‘Find them’? I thought I had, so what’s the point in trying to find more, only to be disappointed?”

“[Y/N], was it? I’m right here, you know,” he puts a hand on his chest, a smile on his lips and shining in his eyes. “I’ve seen you at your lowest and I’m still here. Find someone like me,”

“That’s sweet, but I doubt there are multiple Oikawas running around in the rain,” you sigh, looking back up. It’s almost time for the bus, but you have a feeling that if he’s still here, then he won’t let you leave. “Are you gonna sit there until my opinion changes?”

“They don’t change that easily, trust me,” he chuckles, but it lacks the merry behind it. Glancing at him, his eyes are downcast as he runs a thumb over his knee. “But I don’t want to see someone die over one thing. There’s a lot to live for, a lot to strive for, that’s why I keep moving even after all my failures. If someone kills themselves for one thing, something I don’t see as a reason to end, I wonder if it was deeper than what it was on the surface. Was it a quick way to feel numb for a while? Was it an easy solution? Sometimes the easiest path isn’t the right one. Surviving an attempt makes you realize things can change, but what if you didn’t survive? If you regret putting the blade to your skin or stepping off the ledge seconds after you do it or seconds before death? You can’t change it once it’s in motion.”

“I never.. I never thought about it like that,” you mutter, your hands holding each other, fingers twiddling. A brief meeting with a handsome Alpha suddenly put things in perspective. A laugh breaks you from your trance, his mouth behind his hand.

“If I see an opportunity to help, I’ll be there, but the fact is I can’t change your mind. I would like to put things in perspective and give you options, but that’s all I can do. If the reason you’re planning to end it all is because you have no friends, I can help with that. I’ll be your friend when nobody else gives you a chance.”

You mull it over, thinking of your options. In the end, the worst that could happen is you end up back on the bench, in the rain, ready to match to your death. “You know, I was told that if it sounds too good to be true, then it probably is,” you mutter, but rifle through your jacket pockets for your phone. “Don’t make me regret second guessing myself, Oikawa Tōru. If you want to be my friend, I’ll take the hand extended to me,”

“Wonderful! And just in the nick of time, the bus is here,” he takes out his own phone, ready to swap numbers. As the bus pulls up to a stop, Oikawa waves at you as he pockets his phone, your contact information all piled inside. You really hope you don’t regret this decision, too.

In the few days that pass, you find yourself wondering how you could have possibly thought bad of Oikawa. He was sweet to you, introducing you to his friends (who knew about your predicament prior), with their promise they’d never turn their back. Iwaizumi was also an Alpha, but the other two were Betas. You did think it to be odd about how they seemed to willingly to help you, stay beside you, despite having no reason to. Their only reason was a promise to you. To Oikawa? Maybe, but you never asked him about it; if you did, he’d just shrug and give you a vague answer.

He promised to show you the light on a dark and gloomy evening, and he kept that promise. As your friends turned their backs on you, scoffing about how your decision will affect you for the rest of your life, Oikawa was there when you needed him the most. He was on standby all hours of the day and night, his phone always on and beside him. When your family turned you away, calling you out on your sudden friendship with another Alpha while carrying a child, they kicked you out and you had nowhere else to go, Oikawa was there. When you felt your world crumbling around you, feeling hopeless and desperate, picking up a secret stash of painkillers, Oikawa was there to talk to you. He didn’t actively take away the pills, but he sat on the other side of the door and talked to you, listened to you. Even his mom was there for you when your family and friends had left you, but Oikawa stood beside you through it all.

Then your world crumbled again.

“I’m planning on moving to Argentina,” he had said. You were looking into colleges to further your education when he had knocked on your door, his old sister’s room, sitting on the bed.

“You’re.. leaving?” You wanted to add to that sentence, but you didn’t want to seem clingy. He’s been with you for so much, you’re not entirely sure you can be independent without him.

“It’s been almost 6 months since you met me. I actually went on that run to decide if I wanted to study abroad in Argentina, but after meeting you, I decided to wait. I’ve been studying the language and keeping up with local volleyball communities, but my dream is over there,” he explains. You click your pen and set it down, ready to ask if you should leave his house, but he continues. “I wanted to know if you’d come with me.”

“Wh- What?”

“I’ve been putting in extra time so we can both move together, get a fresh start,” his face tints as he speaks, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “It seems a bit forward, now that I’m actually talking aloud about it. Sorry ‘bout that,” he chuckles, before clearing his throat.

“You want me.. to come with you?” You ask, unsure if you’re hearing correctly. He’s asking you to move to a new country with him, which is exciting! But, the baby.. “He is due soon, you know,”

“5 weeks, if I remember correctly,” he smiles, looking down at the large bump. You run a hand over it, solemnly nodding. “He’d be born in Argentina, our new home, if you come with me,”

“But Ushijima—”

“He’s abandoned you, officially. Your bond, it’s hardly noticeable anymore. The scent, I mean,” he corrects himself. “He’s basically just a sperm donor at this point,”

“This is.. very sudden, you know,”

“I know. And it’s also a very grand way of asking to court you, while also essentially marrying you, but I will say that if you choose to stay here, Iwa-chan will take care of you. He’s going to study in California for some amount of time, but that’s not for another few months. There is Mattsun and Makki, but I’m not too sure-”

“Okay, don’t stress yourself,” you giggle, getting him to stop. “I’ll go with you, but you gotta teach me the language,”

“I’ve been told I’m a great tutor, actually,”

“I believe it. Will the bond go away, or is it just the scent that’s gone?” He raises his brows at that.

“Ah, I guess you never took those classes. The bond is permanent, but another Alpha can lay claim on a mate that has been abandoned. I’d be honored to replace his bond with mine, but I’m sure you’ll need-”

“I’m ready,” you interrupt him. He sputters as he processes the words, but then smirks.

“Are you sure? I don’t plan on making mistakes, so you’ll be stuck with me, you know?”

“Tōru, I’ve been ready for a while now. Hope you don’t mind bonding me while I’m pregnant,” your hand once more rubs the large bump, settling on the top.

“It just means I’ll have to wait until it’s my turn to try,” he licks his lips, moving towards the door. The locking sound seals your fate, keeping others from interrupting your moment.

- Years Later

“Koichi, come back here!” you shout, weaving in between the crowds. Aiko is somehow still asleep on your shoulder as you chase your son through the crowd. He’s been dying to meet his favorite uncle for quite some time, so see as he’s the trainer for the Nationals team of Japan, Koichi ran once the match ended. A brief Q&A with the members of the team would happen exactly right after they left the stadium, which he knew because of his father’s position.

You finally come to a stop, grabbing Koichi’s collar as he struggles to get through the crowd. “I told you to not leave me, and what did you do? Uncle Iwa isn’t going to suddenly disappear. He’s been waiting for this day, too, you know?”

“But mama! I told him I’d be the first one!”

“That’s impossible. The paparazzi gets to him first, that’s how it works in Hollywood movies,” you joke, but you pick him up. You’re no professional athlete, but you do stay in shape to take care of two children. As soon as you pick him up, he’s shouting as he sees Iwaizumi, trying to talk to the reporters. He catches Koichi’s waving hand and decides to take a break, going towards where you are as the crowd parts.

“How is the Oikawa family doing? I see Koichi is energetic,” he laughs, taking the boy from your arms.

“Ugh, as always. Don’t know where he gets it from, it’s not like his sister is bursting with energy all day,” you gesture to the child sleeping, despite the loud crowd.

“Well, definitely Oikawa’s kid. He sleeps through anything and so does she, jeez,” he sighs, but you just laugh. A few members of his team come over, excited by the new people.

“Iwa-chan, what’s this? Wife? Your kids?? You have kids???” A man with white and black hair says, giving Koichi a high five.

“Uh, no. They’re actually Oikawa’s wife and kids. I’m the favorite uncle, of course,”

“I wanna be the uncle! ‘Samu is never gonna get married, I need to be an amazing uncle somehow,” a man with platinum blond hair says, but he’s quickly pushed aside as a familiar face comes into view.

A face you didn’t want to see.

“[Y/N], I didn’t expect to see you here,” Ushijima says, tone as flat as ever. Iwaizumi takes on a forced smile as yours drops, a frown etched on.

“Didn’t expect to see you here either. Actually, ever again,”

“Oh?” The owlish man says, eyebrows quirked up as his eyes glance between the two of you.

“I see you moved on. I’m glad to see that,”

“No thanks to you,” the venom in your voice has Koichi turning to him, looking at the larger man with large eyes. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see the resemblance. He’s got the same hair color and eyes as the man in front of you, taking hardly any features from you. Not to mention, Koichi is showing signs of presenting as an Alpha.

“Darling, that’s where you were!” Oikawa shouts from over the crowd, them parting so he can mingle with the group around you. “I was wondering where my personal cheerleaders went to,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His eyes meet Ushijima’s and despite being unable to smell the tension, you can feel it. Reporters and guests alike back away as the overwhelming tension of two Alphas clash.

“Oikawa,” Ushijima says. Oikawa just tilts his head, looking over his opponent.

“I thought you’d look more defeated after I wiped the court with your ass, but I’m more disappointed in that. Emotionless as ever, aren’t you, Ushiwaka?”

“No, I wouldn’t say that,” he says, then looks to you. “I’ve been meaning to say something to you, [Y/N],”

“Trust me, I don’t want to hear it. You’re too late, Wakatoshi. You’re much too late,” you say, before nodding at Iwaizumi. “I’m leaving,”

Despite turning to leave, Oikawa taking Koichi away from his uncle and new “uncles”, despite being in the middle of a loud crowd, you can hear him. It’s quiet, almost as if he knows the words are weightless, holding nothing after years of his abandonment. Despite Oikawa’s bond pulsing, your heart still yearns for the other man, what he could have given you and what he did to you. Despite all this, you’ve fantasized about hearing those words, yet they do nothing.

“I’m sorry.”

Author’s Note: I’m sorry this took forever to publish but I hope it was worth the wait! I didn’t keep track of time while writing this, so if something seems wrong just ignore it. I might come back and fix it later but probably not lol ; Argentina residency rules and citizenship requirements were not consulted for this, seeing as it only took up like one sentence, but I might change it if I look more into it of course.

[cinnamonest]

please spare more crumbs for the sex slave au with diluc and kaeya's meimei,,

Thank you for giving me permission to be more depraved this is from forever ago but I'm slowly getting the "forever ago" stuff done lol

I love the concept tho, especially Crepus buying a lil qt and having to teach them how to be good masters bc they’re both dumb clueless boys, bless.

TWs: slavery, implied incest or pseudo-incest, could give vibes as under//age (nothing is specified but I guess it could strike some people that way so I wanna be cautious), noncon/dubcon, mentions of anal, misogynistic, awful depraved and nasty -------------------------------------

God. The arguing. The rivalry. The chaos. Like, with some poly yanderes/owner/master relationships, the two work *together* and focus attention on controlling *you,* but these two are... not like that. They have a lot of rivalry going on half the time.

Now, this could be Crepus buying a slave and basically indoctrinating her as a meimei, but of course, if you actually are one of the boys' bio sis, the one is gonna claim some authenticity - you know, the whole "well she's my real sister, not yours, so I get to fuck her more" kind of thing. The other appeals to "well she's your real sister which makes you worse," and it devolves into arguing back and forth about whether or not the blood relation makes them more or less justified in sticking their dick in you and claiming more rights to meimei's time and attention. Not just to each other either, it's also directed at you -- the whole "hey, I'm your real big brother, so you should spend more time with me than him" kind of thing. It actually can get pretty annoying over time, you have to constantly be soothing not one but TWO egos in desperate need of affirmation. But here I’m going more with the idea of Crepus just buying them a sweet meimei. Diluc's more... patient. He teaches you "touch commands" -- little learned gestures, like a dog. Just the lightest touch on your spine and you know it's a clear message to arch your back, a hand under your chin and thumb pressed against it has you instinctively opening your mouth, a tap to the back of your neck and you kneel. Little gestures that can bend your body and mind with minimal effort. Despite that though, Kaeya is actually the master of The Look™ - the kind that can make you go quiet and apologize in a mere instant when given. But because you know it, expect him to be even harsher if you defy it. Sometimes in your little tantrums you get so mad that you'll have the audacity to ignore that look and keep whining or being a brat which does not end well.

Meimei is what you call free use - any time, anywhere. One of the most important lessons Crepus told you when he first got you/when you were old enough is that you are never to deny the boys any of your holes if they want it. This is just as important for the boys to learn as it is you, he's a big believer in the whole, "if you act like a good proper master, the slave will naturally fall into their role too" sort of thing, so he teaches them to be forceful and dominating, not hesitant to do what they want -- if they're clear on what they want and make known their expectation of your obedience (and the subtle implication of threat of punishments if not complied with), you'll fall into the submissive role you're meant for and naturally want to submit to them like a good little wife-sister-slave.

So, whenever one of them beckons you over, you smile and ask them how you can help. Your brothers work so hard, and it's the least you can do to take care of their needs. Sometimes they just want you to sit on their lap, wrap your arms around them, sit there a while in silence when they're sad, sometimes they want to vent to you about things when they're frustrated, sometimes they want to use you. Of course, the former two usually leads to the last anyway. You're... emotional support pussy. There's important rules and practices to be followed, it's actually rules for all three of you, several apply to them, actually, as Crepus taught you before he died, and it's become second nature for the boys (it works in their benefit, after all). #1. You can never be left alone. There's a lot of reasons for this, but primarily it's in your instinct to get fucked, all you know how to do is take cock, so if you were left alone you may very well go running off and jump onto the first thing with a dick, and they can't have that. So basically you either have to be with one of them, within their sight, or accounted for in some way - there's a couple of installed tethering hooks and the like on the walls  in several areas of the house you can be attached to. But, really, they're not usually necessary, with two very horny males running around you're busy most of the time, even if it's a more passive task. You spend a lot of time sitting on someone's lap, sometimes taking naps throughout the day with whoever decides they're tired at the moment. So, you spend more or less every waking moment with one or both -- well, every sleeping moment too, of course you don't have you own room. You alternate nights between the two just like you were told to. There's not really any task you do alone. Bathing? It's always gotta be with one or the other. Sleeping? Always with one or the other. Even when you're cooking -- because obviously you do that, they wouldn't even know how to, since you've always done it -- one is always standing beside you, talking to you, or sitting a ways over in a chair as they vent about their day. Oh, speaking of that, as aforementioned, you're there for emotional burdens too. When one has had a long day, what would they do if meimei wasn't there for them to vent and whine and complain to? You've always been taught to be a good listener. Don't interrupt. Listen to everything and don't zone out. Don't oppose their actions when they're telling you about their problems, always tell them they were in the right and comfort them. Smile while you listen. That's how you were trained to respond when one of them has some burden to unload on you. Always offer your body to make them happy. That's the last part, and they've never not taken you up on the offer. That being said, sometimes you have to... motivate them. Push a little bit. You see, you're just so sweet that sometimes your brothers might want to just spend the entire day in bed with you. So you have to motivate them to do their actual work. Tell them that if they don't go to work, if they stay in bed all day inside you, how are you supposed to clean the house and make dinner for them? So they sigh and accept you're right and go off to work after all. And, again, the rule is important for them too. You can never run off on your own, but they're also vigilant not to ever leave you alone. When you're first bought, Crepus had to constantly pull them back inside the house when they'd go to another room for something because see, you're leaving her all alone and she's going to go running off and it'll be your fault. So they had to be conditioned to communicate and make sure you were always accounted for, taught how to restrain you properly. If you were left in a room, Crepus would come by to make sure they remembered to lock you inside, would test the tightness of your leash if you were tethered to something, and sigh and chastise if one of them neglected to do it right. #2. No getting off on your own, this is a rule they have to help enforce. It's a waste - you have TWO big brothers, surely one of them is always going to be available and eager, so really, getting yours without either of them involved is pretty selfish, and worthy of punishment if found doing so. If for whatever reason they're all too busy, you have the option of asking permission to ride and grind on their thigh, but no cumming until they're done with their task and are available to properly handle it. Crepus is particularly adamant about this rule, as well as enforcing the same mentality in them, doesn't think it's appropriate for a girl to be so selfishly absorbed with pleasure when she should  be giving it to the men that own her. For one, a girl should be spending all of her time dedicated to serving her masters in some way, and two, they're both needy boys that would be eager to fuck you at any time. So really, masturbating is an act of defiance and will be dealt with as such. #3. No favoritism! There will be times where you may feel mad at one or the other, and sure you have different levels of how much you can tolerate certain behaviors... But, you have to train yourself against that. Meimei should have no limits of what she can tolerate - that's part of your whole purpose. So even when you're mad at one, you can't try to avoid that one and go to the other, you still need to divide your time, energy, and body equally. Don't talk bad about one to the other, don't try to spend more time with one or the other at any time. This also includes pitting them against each other through jealousy, it's a huge no-no. Don't try to make one jealous of the other. If they catch you doing that, sooner or later they'll realize what you're doing, and deal with it, usually harshly, since it's seen as a high-ranking offense. In fact, you really shouldn't be mad, ever. Your big brothers know what's best for you, so if you're mad over a disagreement, you just need to accept that they're right and you're wrong and that you need to submit to their will. Outwardly showing you're upset is bratty behavior, things like pouting or giving them the cold shoulder are punishable offenses. #4. You're also a peacekeeper. Diffuse fights. Both of your big brothers can be... stubborn, prideful individuals. This leads to pretty regular conflict over this and that. It's meimei's job to help with that, calm them down with a smile on your face. Or, if it works better, with some tears and a quivering lip. Please don't fight, you say with watery eyes, sniffling, and well, they can't help but feel bad, they both turn their attention to you rather than to each other and apologize for making you upset.  And if they're having one if their regular it's my turn kind of arguments, your job is to propose the easy solution of sharing. You have more than one hole to fuck, and can easily cuddle one on each side. It should be an obvious solution. Oh, and they fight sometimes over who gets to do what, who spends time with you, but doing different things rather than both wanting to do the same thing. One is sitting at his desk to work and he can't be expected to focus on work without meimei sitting on his lap and cockwarming him of course, but the other says he wants to take a nap and how is he supposed to sleep if he can't rest his head on meimei's tits? There is only so much of her to go around! But they will legit adjust their schedules to make sure they get alone time. And are very nitpicky about it -- wait why do *you* get an extra hour on Tuesday?? If you get that I deserve an extra hour on Thursday -- that sort of thing. You're supposed to be able to propose such ideas. It's your job to come up with solutions that make everyone happy. You can cockwarm one brother while he works and tell the other that hey, if he postpones the nap, you can just ride him until he cums and can sleep right? Things like that. #5 Actually isn't for you, it's for them, regarding punishment. When Crepus got you, the poor boys didn't really know how to go about doing it, so they had to be taught. It's important to be a good master and know how to do so adequately, you know? To not let anger get the better of them and go too far, since sometimes they might get too mad about something. In fact, a good trick, he teaches them, is to just tie you up, and go blow off some steam before coming back to punish you. That way they won't go too far, and you'll have to wait around in fear for a while, which just helps the punishment sink in better. But at the same time, don't go too light. No matter how much you whimper, he says, don't feel pity for her and go lax. It's intentional, it's just your nature to try and fake-cry to try and get out of it. You did something bad, so they shouldn't feel bad about it, even if you cry and squeal. It's the right thing to do. You're supposed to cry, you're supposed to say it hurts and whimper, that just means they're doing it right. But of course, there's some sensitivities to be taught. If they have you bent over a knee, they have to make sure to only hit your ass and the back of your thighs, make sure not to go up too high and hit your back, since that could cause injury. If they're gonna fuck your ass as punishment, make sure to use a certain amount of lube. Things like that, it's important to be good masters, just as much as it is your job to be a good little slave.

And to remember, of course, that meimei is... an inferior little creature. Don't get mad at her just because she's stupid and doesn't understand this or that, that's not her fault. She can't be expected to be smart or responsible, that's their job. But also, don't feel pressured to give her what she wants just because she wants it or anything. And, most importantly, don't start having self-doubt and ever think she might be right about something while they're wrong, because obviously that can't be the case. You might get defiant and try to insist you know better than them, act like you're just as capable of something as they are, or think your opinions matter or something, but in that case, they have a responsibility to remind you of your place.

[nxrthmizu]

Second Place ; Miya Osamu.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | miya osamu x fem!reader

w.c | 2.2k

genre | fluff

warning(s) | slightly suggestive, implied sexual content

author's note | i've been wanting to write this for a while! so here it is <3 it's not beta read and I didn't use a lot of metaphorical filling so it's not that poetic but eh Idc bc ✨ self indulgence ✨

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Once upon a time, Miya Osamu swore that he would never settle for second place again— He was never going to let another Miya score first place while he stood in the shadows. The twins had split paths after graduation, stepping onto stages where they'd never have to compete against each other for the spotlight again.

... Okay, who was he kidding. He'd be compared to Atsumu for his whole life— It wasn't like a different career would change that. Besides, his aunts were way too bored to not spin up something about him and his brother during family gatherings.

"Atsumu's making more money, isn't he?"

Well duh, he was a professional volleyball player, of course he made more money— Osamu wanted to roll his eyes in front of his aunts to make sure they understood that he heard their hushed whispers— But then again, he was an adult now, and he knew better than to stoop that low.

The comforting grip you had on his wrist also helped.

Things did get slightly better for him, though.

"Atsumu, your brother's already married," Osamu overheard his second aunt say to his twin during his wedding reception, "When are you going to settle down?"

The grey-haired Miya couldn't help but have a grin on his face for the entire night. Granted, the fact there was a silver ring on your finger also helped. You were absolutely radiant that night, and Osamu couldn't have been happier to finally be able to introduce you as his spouse.

Osamu's marriage did tilt more pressure towards his twin's way, because not more than half a year later, Atsumu caved in and found a sweet little thing to share his life with. The setter had had a couple flings here and there in his earlier years— But none of them ever lasted that long, and Atsumu had never introduced them to his brother, which is how Osamu knew that his twin really cared about the girl when the golden-haired man visited Onigiri Miya with her hanging on his arms.

If he didn't have the decency to help his brother maintain a good image, Osamu would've straight-up snorted at how tense his twin was when he served onigiri up onto their table, the shop empty with the exception of one table. It was almost like Atsumu was seeking Osamu's approval— Which was hilarious enough without the fact that the setter was nervous about it.

At the end of the night, it was as if the weight of the world was lifted off Atsumu's shoulders. Kaoru— The name of Osamu's potential sister-in-law— Got along wonderfully with you, who kept the shy-but-bright woman entertained as Osamu dragged his twin into the kitchen to make fun of him.

"Oh, go easy on him," You elbowed him lightly as the two of you closed up the shop for the night, wiping down the tables and tucking the chairs in. "Atsumu genuinely cares about her, he's making an effort!"

Osamu let out the snort he had held in for most of the evening. "I wouldn't be his brother if I didn't make fun of him."

"Boys." You muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. You had been around to catch the tail-end of some of Atsumu's previous relationships, so you could tell that Kaoru was different; In a way, Atsumu looked at her the same way Osamu eyed a nice piece of mackerel in the grocery shop.

"I heard that! C'mere," Osamu grinned, tackling you from the back. A smile burst across his lips when a giggle erupted from your lips, a cloth rag smacking him in the face when you tried to wriggle away from his hold. "You aren't getting away, pumpkin. Save your energy for later."

He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, yelping when he was smacked with the rag again.

"There won't be a later if you keep that up." You warned, laughing when horror instantly swept over his expression. His protests echoed in your ears as you thought about how this marriage was something you'd never regret. Yes, it was rough because his business took off on a rocky road, but you knew there was no gain without pain, so you hung on and saw him through to the fruits of his labour.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The next family meeting was graced with the presence of Kaoru, who, in turn, had been graced with your advice.

"Dress decently, do not wear black," You had warned her the night before on the phone, grimacing at the memory of your first Miya family dinner. No one had aunts more judgemental than the Miya twins. "I would suggest going with a dress. Oh, and it might help to bring a gift. A bottle of Ginseng Wine might be a good idea."

"We're here," Osamu parked the car outside the family home, subconsciously wincing at the sight of his aunts' vehicles. "... Ah. They’re here."

"I see they turned up early," You grimaced, "Atsumu and Kaoru-chan are going to have a brilliant night."

"Yup." Your husband grinned slightly at that, earning a smack for smiling at his brother's suffering. "Oh, he'll be fine. We'll mention that when Atsumu really needs saving." The wink he sent your way made your stomach butterflies flutter, but the warm touch of his fingers on your hand made them settle. "We'll be fine," Osamu's eyes softened as he met yours, reassuring you. "You've got me, remember? Worst case scenario, we'll just high-tail out of there and say we need to work tomorrow."

"Right," You released a breath of relief, interlocking your fingers with his. "Ready?"

"To see Atsumu suffer?" Osamu quipped. "Hell yeah."

And suffer did Atsumu. Kaoru wasn’t spared (of course she wasn’t—) and was judged from head-to-toe by the Miya's critical aunts. From the way they were eyeing her, you'd think they were the judges of Miss Universe instead of potential aunt-in-laws. Despite that, Kaoru braved the storm and stood strong through the whole night, her resilience shining with her determination to be with the other Miya twin— Osamu nodded his approval at that.

After dinner, the family gathered in the living room, with the elderly seated on the cushioned couches while the twins were squashed together on a bean bag (that you had to convince them to share, because apparently they were adamant about pushing the other off of it). Kaoru and you managed to snag a small corner of a couch, stifling your laughter at the sour faces of your respective significant others.

"So, Kaoru-san," Four heads collectively flinched when the aunt opened her mouth, "What's your job? Yearly salary?"

"Um, I'm... I'm a newspaper editor," Kaoru fidgeted with the strap of her bag while you resisted the urge to snap at her to look as confident as she could if she didn't want the interrogation to go on for the rest of the night. A shy, nervous thing like her would only make the predator's lick their lips at the sight of easy prey.

"Oh! That makes sense," The woman sneered, Osamu's mother not-so-discreetly turning up the volume of the television in hopes that the conversation would be drowned out. "You definitely dress with the salary of an editor."

Offence flashed across Atsumu's face like lightning, but before he could start a fight to defend his girlfriend's honour, Osamu dragged his brother back onto the bean bag and stood up.

"Excuse me, everyone," Osamu put on his practiced customer-service smile flawlessly, capturing everyone's attention instantly. "Y/N and I have an announcement to make." His eyes met yours, and you nodded, a smile waltzing across your lips.

"Mother, father," You begin, addressing your in-laws like you addressed your own parents. Encouragement swirled in your blood as Osamu interlocked your hands and squeezed your fingers. "You're going to be grandparents."

It took a while for the news to kick in.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Osamu's mother cried out, rushing to envelop you in a hug that you gracefully accepted. "Do you know the gender yet?"

"Of course not, mother." Osamu rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "We're not that far along yet."

"That's amazing! Congratulations!" Kaoru beamed brightly, not having picked up on Osamu's timely intervention.

"Thank you." You replied warmly.

"Well then, are you going to stop working?" The first aunt shot at you, smirking, coy as ever. She knew that you weren't the type to drop your job just because of an incoming child.

"Of course not." You replied easily, "What kind of spouse would I be if I couldn't help carry the financial burdens with my husband?"

She shut her trap instantly, huffing in fury. Osamu had never looked prouder.

The family rejoiced for a little longer, and from the tip of your ears, you heard Osamu gloating slightly about having reached another milestone earlier than his brother.

"I love you," Your husband murmured into the crook of your neck as the two of you cuddled in the warmth of your bed, too far for his aunts' sharp words to hurt you. "And our little boy in there.”

“How do you know it’s a boy?”

“... Father’s instinct.”

Months flew by in a blur, and so did doctor appointments, Sunday shopping trips with Kaoru as you left Atsumu to help Osamu in the restaurant. The pair would drive the half-an-hour trip from Osaka to Hyogo every weekend. This arrangement elicited a couple silly arguments between the twins, of course, but once you taught Kaoru the stern look that would make the two settle like guilty puppies with their tails between their legs— Those arguments became simple matters to handle.

“Have you thought of names yet?” Kaoru asked you while the two of you sipped on coffee.

“I have a couple in mind,” You smiled. “Osamu won’t stop going on about how he was right. The baby’s a boy.”

“Boys will be boys,” Kaoru rolled her eyes. Then, her expression changed to a wistful one. “This might sound odd, but… I just find myself thinking, sometimes… One day, I want what you and Osamu have.”

“... A happy marriage?” You raised an eyebrow, “Honey, you’re already on your way to one. Atsumu looks at you the same way ‘Samu looks at a bowl of gyudon. Or the way I look at a bucket of mint ice cream with peanut butter…”

Kaoru made a concerned look. “The baby sure craves some odd things.”

“You’ll experience this one day.” You returned pointedly. “Logically, I never would’ve thought of eating mint chocolate ice cream with peanut butter slathered on… But cravings are cravings. And it was surprisingly nice.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

After nine long months of waiting, Miya Tomohito was welcomed to the world. Osamu cried (Atsumu made fun of him for it before getting smacked by Kaoru— She was learning a lot from you). Both yours and Osamu’s parents wouldn’t stop gawking at your baby boy, with his little tuff of dark hair, his tightly-fisted hands and the slight cherry-red flush of his cheeks. You never thought you’d fall in love at first sight— But your son was living proof that you were wrong. From the first moment you held him in your arms, you had already given a piece of your heart for him to hold in his tiny little hands.

It quickly became a regular sight for frequent customers of Onigiri Miya to see Osamu walking around the shop, a sleeping baby boy strapped to his back. The two were inseparable. Once, you walked in on your husband having a full conversation with Tomohito, who was sucking on a spoon.

“I’m thinking of adding a twist to my tuna onigiri recipe,” Osamu said, as if he were talking to an adult and not a three-month old baby. “Do you think adding a squeeze of lemon juice will make it taste better?”

“Gwa.” Tomohito replied intelligently.

“Great suggestion, Tomo.”

“Mmm.”

“I see. We could go to the grocery store later to get some tuna and try that recipe tonight.”

“Ba.”

“You’re a genius, Tomo.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“I can’t believe you.” Osamu looked helpless. “You’re not… You’re not seriously doing this to me.”

“I’m completely serious.” You said firmly, having put your foot down with no room for argument.

“You’re really choosing him over me?” Your husband’s jaw dropped when you nodded solemnly. “I’m your husband!”

“And he’s my son.” You shot back instantly.

“You’re kicking me out of our bed for our son?”

“He’s sick!” You refuted. “I need him to be as close as possible to me. His fever hasn’t gone down completely yet and I can’t let him go back into his cot tonight. Besides, you might get sick if we all sleep in the same bed. Who’ll take care of the shop then?”

Osamu drooped visibly. He couldn’t believe what was happening— He had lost to a Miya once again— Now his son instead of his brother. “Fine.” He mumbled sadly. “Make your poor husband sleep on the couch.”

“It’s only for one night, ‘Samu.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomohito's name is written as 智仁. '智' means intelligence and '仁' means compassionate. I have a friend named Tomohito.

Also, when I was writing this I reminded myself to make sure I made the reader gender-neutral. That is, until I realised that I made the reader pregnant. I am an idiot.

haikyuu!! gen taglist: @haru-senji @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @definitely-yours @rirk-ke @animegirlweeb @cemeiia @haikyuushuffle

[professorspork]

superhell fic prompt: RB+J reunite with Yang

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

Let no one ever doubt that Yang can be a champion whiner when she wants to be.

She was on her best behavior before, listening intently as Weiss caught her up on just how badly the fight with Cinder went, and brainstorming up next steps (get to the Tree; send up a flare with Ember Celica because if there were Grimm they needed to worry about, they would have run into some by now; wait). Only there wasn’t much to talk about after that that wasn’t wildly depressing, and they’d fallen into an uneasy silence-- Yang watching Weiss hunch tighter and tighter in on herself with every step.

So she’d filled the quiet: complaining about how they’d be there by now if only she still had Bumblebee; bitching about how unfair it is that they can’t seem to get their Semblances to work; grumbling over how she has no idea how long they’ve been walking because the light never seems to change here. And Weiss snaps back, of course, but Yang can tell the annoyance is feigned-- the more irritated Weiss’s answers are, the more relaxed her body language becomes. Normalcy’s thin on the ground, here; Yang will provide it anywhere she can.

Except-- 

-- except also something on the ground here, it seems-- 

-- is Gambol Shroud.

“Oh,” Yang breathes, in a tone of voice she’s not entirely sure she’s ever produced before. Weiss runs ahead and drops to her knees, but hesitates when she goes to scoop up the weapon-- her hand hovering over it, shaking.

“I-- sorry. It’s not my-- you should--”

“You should give it back to her,” Yang says, keeping her distance and a soft smile on her face.

Weiss looks up at her with wide eyes. “But you--” 

“--didn’t have to see her fall. You did. And you-- you did really good, Weiss. You should give it back to her.” It seems a small concession to make, in the grand scheme of things. She’s going to have plenty of Blake, and soon. She knows it-- she’s sure of that down to her bones, now. So what is there to be possessive of? She waits until Weiss nods, and slips the katana through one of her scabbard loops. It’s not exactly meant to be carried that way, but whatever. It looks pretty badass. “C’mon,” she says, helping Weiss to her feet. “We’re close. I can feel it.”

Weiss roasts her mercilessly when it’s a good age and a half of walking before they even hit the tree’s roots (“Oh, are we close, Yang? Can you feel it?”), but they don’t come across any other surprises. When the roots start to twist and rise above them, Yang clambers up to a decent plateau and sets off two charges-- shooting them high into the air and watching them explode like fireworks. Yang smirks, tucking her arms behind her head as she prepares to settle in and wait--

-- and promptly slips and falls out of the tree when a trio of familiar voices happily cry “Yang?!” only seconds after the flare’s report.

(It’s not her fault, okay? She wasn’t expecting them to be this close, or together; wasn’t expecting Jaune to be down here at all; it’s whatever--)

By the time she’s picked herself up and dusted herself off, Ruby, Jaune and Blake have come into view, just across the clearing. 

“Ruby!” Weiss cries, sprinting towards them, and that’s-- she’s Yang’s sister, she should get dibs on first hug, what gives, only then Weiss actually throws a thumbs up behind her as she runs and that’s just-- that’s just rude, honestly, as if--

“Yang,” Blake says, close enough to touch, and when did that happen?

“Blake, I--”

She has no idea how that sentence was supposed to end. Luckily, Blake relieves her of the burden, busying her mouth and bringing her thoughts to a grinding halt by pulling her into a swift, determined kiss. Yang’s struck so dumb by the shock of it that for a moment she forgets to kiss back-- hands hanging limply at her sides as she tries to process the intent pressure of Blake’s lips against hers; the swell of body heat where they’re pressed together, chest to chest; the tender way Blake cradles her jaw, all fingertips, the way you touch something precious and fragile. Every muscle in Yang’s body relaxes in an instant-- at last, finally, thank you-- and a needy, wanting noise tears itself from her throat, entirely without her volition.

It’s possible she goes a bit overboard when she finally gets control of her limbs again, wrapping her arms around Blake’s sides and dipping her into the kind of kiss she’s only seen on the covers of Blake’s novels, but it’s hard to care about how it looks-- not when Blake’s laughing into her mouth, and Ruby’s wolf-whistling (Yang releases her hold on Blake for that, briefly, only because she has to prioritize flipping Ruby the bird) and has she mentioned that she’s kissing Blake Belladonna? 

She’s kissing Blake Belladonna.

She might never stop kissing Blake Belladonna.

Or, okay, maybe she will; her back kind of hurts holding this weird position so long. But when she pulls Blake back to standing, she suddenly registers wetness on her own cheeks, and she wouldn’t be surprised she’s crying only she’s-- she’s really pretty sure she’s not, so that means--

“Don’t cry,” she whispers, reaching up to brush the tears from Blake’s lashes. “If you cry I’m gonna cry, and--”

“I love you,” Blake breathes, and the words lay Yang out faster than any punch, knocking the wind right out of her lungs. The look on Blake’s face is beatific-- elated and adoring and thrilled. Like she’s proud of herself for being brave enough to say it; like she wasn’t sure she was going to know how. Only then the tears well up again; her voice hitches as she stutters: “I promised; I couldn’t get to you in time, you can’t-- I’ll follow you anywhere, I promised, I swear it, but you have to let me, I thought I lost you--”

This time it’s Yang’s turn to quiet Blake with a kiss, and she lets herself savor it. She clocks every sensation, every touch, every sigh, every brush of their lips. This isn’t about utility, or merely silencing Blake’s fears. It’s reassurance, and devotion, and a promise all its own: we’re okay. We can have this, now.

When she pulls back, she takes a deep breath, determined to find words that will mean as much as Blake’s just did, to make it clear just how much she feels--

-- only it’s a little hard to concentrate over how loudly Weiss is crying, a few yards away where Ruby and Jaune have her sandwiched between them.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to-- I just-- you did promise, all of you, you said you’d never leave my side and I was-- I was alone, I was the only one left, and I--”

Yang takes Blake’s hand, gratified when she gets an understanding squeeze and a nod in return-- to be continued. Whatever confessions of love Yang’s got scratching at the walls of her insides, they can wait a little longer; right now, they need to be with their team.

Together, they join the group huddle, saying nothing as collectively they abandon any attempts at soothing words and instead finally let themselves fall apart. Ruby all but crawls into Yang’s lap, and a thread of tension deep within Yang finally, finally relaxes, knowing that her sister is safe. Jaune cries loudest and hardest of all, and Yang buries a hand in his hair, wishing she could make it better. She knows what it feels like, to stab down and feel the life leave someone’s body, but that was-- she’d hated Adam. To have to do it to an ally, a friend, to have that responsibility on you, for someone you love--

--kill me, and I can make sure the power goes to you--

-- she shakes off the stubborn image of Raven’s scarlet eyes filling her vision and focuses on the people in her arms.

“Not to be super morbid, but maybe...” She pauses and chews on her words, wanting to make sure she says what she means to. “We might be a little past promises, now. All of us. I don’t know where we go from here, and the choices are only going to get harder. But-- we’ve always found our way back to each other before. Even here, and-- and I don’t even really know where here is. So maybe we can just... trust that. See where it takes us.”

She doesn’t realize she’s closed her eyes in a wince, unsure of how she’ll be received, until she cautiously squints them open again and sees half her universe staring back at her with nothing but love.

“I think that sounds good,” Blake says, 

but her eyes say so much more. 

[usmsgutterson]

Certainly- Kaz Brekker

The reader is a bit of an astrology and astronomy alike geek for this, which I hope y’all don’t mind! Also, in this case, phones exist so lets pretend that phones exist in Ketterdam, making it a bit of a modern au, I guess!

Also, this’ll probably be a bit ooc for Kaz

Fic type- angsty fluff

Warnings- blood, mentions of death, and the reader is sick (nothing specific, I just kind of took random symptoms and made up a word for the sickness)

You were determined to see the stars before you went, and as you grew sicker, none of the crows knew when that would be, so, after a little convincing, the crows had gotten Colm to let you spend a couple of months at his farm in Novyi Zem, where the stars were the clearest at night, not burdened by light pollution or the screams of lively cities. 

It was the seven of you crammed into a basement, sharing beds, but none of them cared, and you were just glad to be with the people you called family. You were happy that they were with you, that Kaz was willing to wheel you everywhere when you got too weak to stand, that Jesper still made jokes, even despite watching you deteriorate. You were grateful for Inejs smile, Wylans music, Ninas impeccable tastes and Matthias and his big arms that could lift you and put you down without issue. 

The six of them had started taking shifts taking you outside. Nina took you outside Sunday nights, Matthias Mondays, Wylan Tuesdays, Jesper Thursdays, Inej Fridays and Kaz Saturdays. Wednesdays you rested up; ate when it was time to eat, used the bathroom when you needed, took a shower if it were the appropriate time, but other than that, you slept.

It was Kaz’s day to wheel you out, and you’d had a particularly rough day that day. Inej went with him, promising not to intrude on the time that you would spend together. She’d do backflips and run across the roof of the farm if you asked her to, but she’d not interrupt otherwise. 

“I love the stars,” you whispered, leaning back in your wheelchair and tightening the hold of the blanket over your lap. “Thank you both. For doing this.” 

“Don’t you worry, love,” Kaz murmured. “Just keep your eyes on the stars, okay?”

“We’re happy to do this,” Inej added. “All of us are. Really.” It was like both of them could sense it as well as you could. You had a feeling that the night would end terribly, just like the morning had begun.

You’d woken up only to need to rush to the toilet immediately, blood coming up your throat like bile, staining your skin and leaving your bottom lip red as a cherry. 

Kaz had been at your side in a minute, Nina and Wylan right behind him. Wylan kept your hair away from the sides of your face, Nina slowed your heartrate and Kaz wet a cloth with cold water to get your body temp down. 

Kaz had forced himself to stay in the moment, to not let his thoughts stray to the urge to sleep in the same bed as you to make sure that nothing happened while you slept--to be there in case something did--but to stay on the sun as it set and the faraway sound of Wylan playing his flute with the window open so that you’d be able to hear it. 

Once you’d gotten settled under a tree, Inej ran off, making her way inside and up to the barns roof, where she sat, keeping a watch from a distance as Kaz let you rest your head against his shoulder, gloved hand interlaced with yours. 

“I love you, Brekker,” you murmured. “Please don’t forget that. Ever.” 

“I won’t,” he whispered. “You’re gonna stay around and get better until we can spar again, and you can beat my ass even though I’ve my cane as a weapon.” 

“You know full well I can’t promise that,” you wished that you could. You desperately wished. “I’m going to die young, Kaz. I’m not gonna get to eighteen, much less eighty.” Kaz hated you for that.

He hated you because everything that you said somehow managed to be right. It was like you had a sixth sense for that kind of thing, and while, on missions, it proved useful, in that scenario, it just proved annoying. 

“You’re gonna make it to eighteen if it kills me,” he informed you. “I’ll take you around the globe if I need to, just to make sure you end up okay. I will not live a life without you in it, Y/N.” 

“You’re sweet,” you murmured. “Incredibly sweet.”

“Only to you, L/N.” That was the last bit of conversation for a long while as the sun set and the stars came out.

“Did you know that the moon isn’t circular?” You pointed lazily to it, bright and beautiful amongst the even brighter stars. “According to scientests, it’s actually shaped like a lemon!” Kaz didn’t fight his smile.

Of course you’d be spouting off the little factoids you knew about space. You loved it, how vast and crazy it all seemed. 

“And that the clouds at the center of the Milky Way smell like raspberries and rum?” Kaz snorted.

“Okay, now, theres no way that ones true!” 

“Oh,” you leaned up, booping his nose without a care in the world. “But it is! It’s in a study somewhere, I think! Look it up!” He laughed, pulling you closer to him as you rambled.

Inej had started doing running flips across the roof, spinning and dancing and no doubt laughing as she did. Kaz knew it was an elaborate effort to get you to smile, and it seemed to work as she moved; a delightful silhouette amongst a star filled sky. 

“I love you, Kaz Brekker,” you whispered. “You don’t need to say it back, but I really, truly do love you with every bone that exists in my body.”

“I love you too,” he said it without hesitation. “And I’ll love you until we’re old and grey, I swear it.”

“Don’t hold me to that promise,” you murmured. “You know how bad this is. Stop thinking that I’ll make it into the new year. I probably wont.”

“You will if it kills me, Y/N,” he gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’ll drain the bank dry if I have to, I swear to Ghezen.”

You didn’t say anything after, too exhausted to even think about starting an argument with him, simply not wanting to. 

But then, an hour later, Kaz felt fear trickle into his stomach like it hadn’t ever in his life.

“And then theres Supernova. It’s like a star that’s dying having it’s last celebration. Like when we get a really big win, or when we get away with what we intended to get away with, and we all get shitfaced before we collapse onto our beds and sleep for the night? A supernova is a dying stars explosion. It’s the last celebration that the star has before it dies out.” you’d been rambling.

“Tonight is my... tonight is my...” Kaz had called for Nina right then and there, screaming her name while he felt you go slack against him.

“Zenik!” He screamed, not caring at all if he were to wake up Jespers father. “Zenik, call in that fucking favor with the bloody Ravkan prince!” Matthias came barreling out after her, phone in hand, already speaking to someone as Nina began working, steadying your heart and trying her hardest to keep you alive. 

Kaz had to force himself to walk away from it all, pushing his feet away after giving your shoulders one last squeeze and walking far out into the field. 

Once he was sure he was out of earshot, he couldn’t stop himself. Tears flooded his eyes and he found himself glaring at the sky, wanting to scream, wanting to shout, wishing that there was someone around that he could gut like a fish. 

“Saints,” he murmured through gritted teeth. “Sankt Ilya, Sankt Adrik, Sankta Alina of The Fold, I know I am a terrible person, but Y/N is not. They’re good, they smile, they laugh, they’re kind to others when those people probably don’t deserve their kindness. I know I’m damned, I know that you probably strongly dislike me, but they’re different.” He’d never asked the Saints for anything before, and he never would again.

“Please, just, let them live. Let them get the life that they deserve. I’ll do my best to make them happy, but you have to let me,” he wiped the tears from his eyes as they came. “They deserve the life that you’re so willing to take away, and all I ask is that you don’t take it.” He heard the sounds of the ambulance car and raced back to you, gripping your hand as they helped you onto a stretcher and out of the field, through the house and out the entrance. 

I won’t lose them, he told himself. A world without them is one that’s unbearable. 

O N E Y E A R L A T E R 

You laughed as Nina chased you through the halls of the Little Palace, running quickly through the endless corridors, your laughter carrying through them as you kept yourself in front of Nina.

Nikolai had kept you in the Os Altan palace since that night, where Inej laughed and danced and did her flips, whilst Wylan played the piano and Kaz sat beside you, listening to your ramblings without a care in the world. 

“You seem delighted,” Nikolai noticed as you stopped in front of his office. “I’ve never seen you walk without that Brekker boy at your side, much less run while Zenik is on your tail!” You shrugged, laughing as Ninas front crashed into your back.

“This is the best I’ve felt in a year,” you murmured. “I figured I’d see if Nina was up to chase me around this morning, and I haven’t stopped running since!” You peered in through the open office door, looking for that familliar mop of dark brown hair.

Nina wrapped her arms around you and gave you a gentle squeeze. “He’ll be here any minute,” she murmured. “He and the boys are just finishing up a job for Nik in East Ravka, but Matthias told me the second that they’d left!”

“Trust me. Y/N,” Nikolais smooth voice murmured. “I put them on one of my fastest boats. I knew how long it’d take them to get from here to east Ravka and back, and I promised him he’d be here when you finally awoke.” 

“Hows it feel, anyway?” Zoya appeared at his side. “Eighteen, I mean.” You shrugged.

“I miss Kaz,” you murmured bluntly. “I hate that I have to tell him that he was right, but I still miss him.” 

Nikolai took Zoyas hand, pulling her close as you and Nina watched, smiles on your faces. 

“Young love,” Zoya teased. “Zenik, let go of them so that they can turn around.” Nina obeyed, letting you go and moving to lean against the doorway with Nikolai and Zoya. 

You turned, and smiled when your gazes met. “You were right, Brekker,” you murmured, walking toward him as he held out your gift to you. “I’m better now, and the second that you’re ready to spar, I’m gonna beat your ass, even though you’ve your cane as a weapon.” He grabbed your pinky with his the moment you were within distance.

“How’d the heist go?” You murmured once the two of you had walked out of earshot. 

“Good,” Kaz let himself be close to you as you two moved, squeezing your pinky as you slowed your steps. “Plan went off without a hitch, for three idiots and a mastermind with a limp. I brought you this from it,” he held the gift out to you again, and you took it in your free hand, examining it.

“I had to ask permission for that,” he murmured. “I had to get the Ravkan kings seal of approval to steal that for you.” You laughed, looking it over.

It was a journal. Black and leather bound, pages crisp and untouched. A pen was tucked into the cover. 

“I promise, we’ll go home soon,” you responded. “I miss Ketterdam. I could go for some waffles.” 

“Don’t they have waffles here?” Kaz questioned.

“Not Ketterdam waffles, love. Ketterdam waffles are unlike any pathetic waffle from here! Doused in syrup and whip cream--” You let out a satisfied sigh. “So good it’s almost surreal!” Kaz smirked.

“Waffle date when you’re well enough to return home then?” 

“Certainly.”

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tftaws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Eleven (final chapter)

chapter ten - Chapter Eleven: Safe Haven

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n and Bucky enjoy their time off in Brooklyn and make decisions about their future.

Warnings: FLUFF, very little angst for once, talk of torture, reference to suicide, open ended plot twist that I'm not sorry for...all the fluff, seriously...

Word Count: 7.3k

A/N: Here we are...part of the journey is the end, and we've arrived. Even though there's another a/n at the bottom (with an important announcement so don't tap out too soon) I want to iterate just how thankful I am for the response I got on this series. I had the most amazing time writing it and loved getting to meet and connect with so many of you through it. ENJOY!!

----

It had taken all the strength Bucky had in his soul to knock three times on Yori’s door. He didn’t know what reserve he had had to tap into to actually make his long-hidden confession but once the words had fallen from his lips, he felt both freed and all the more burdened. Watching his friend’s eyes become overtaken by heartbreak, the desperate, confused utterance of ‘why…?’ By the end, Yori wouldn’t even look at Bucky. Bucky didn’t blame him, he was surprised that the man wasn’t yelling him out of his apartment. Instead, he calmly told Bucky to leave, surely holding back the majority of his emotions until he was by himself. The door shut on their friendship and Bucky was by himself on the other side of the door once again, drawing the shaky breath he’d held while he was inside Yori’s place. Out of every person he’d gone to see, every heart he’d had to crush, this one had hurt the most. In the dauntingly long hallway, his eyes sought out the gift the universe had given him, so undeservingly.

His guiding light.

Bathed in the blue light that flooded through the dirty windows of the aged building, Y/n stared down at her feet as she paced. For as open as they’d become with one another, Bucky found himself unable to ask her to accompany him to his last opportunity to make amends. The two of them had become so skilled at reading each other that with one look in his saddened eyes, Y/n had squeezed her phone into the pocket of her jeans and stood by the door waiting for him to ready himself. Bucky was starting to make peace with his past, but he still didn’t know what he had done in his wretched life to have such an angel in his life.

“Hey,” she greeted soothingly, turning to face Bucky as he approached her, “How’d it go?” Bucky wasn’t ready to speak yet, he wasn’t even sure how he could describe what had just transpired. He simply sighed and allowed Y/n to wrap him in her arms in the embrace that was quickly becoming his favorite place to be.

——

As I woke with a groan, stretching my arms over my head, I was immediately aware that one side of the bed was cold. I blindly reached a hand over and felt around for Bucky’s missing body, sitting up when my search was unsuccessful. I blearily scanned the bedroom, our suits laying in a pile that had been kicked to the corner of the desolately furnished room. The few articles of clothing I had gone to the nearest department store and purchased for my impromptu stay in New York still lay folded on top of Bucky’s dresser. It didn’t dawn on me until that moment that I was beginning to spread across Bucky’s apartment without even trying.

It had been four days since the Flag Smasher’s final stand and while the world may have been spinning, mine had never been more steady. Bucky and I hadn’t left his apartment for more than running necessary errands. Other than that we’d spent the time enjoying our slice of domestic heaven learning about one another. I had discovered that Bucky was a good cook but only when it came to breakfast food. He had found out that I needed to sleep with the windows opened slightly for background noise. I had learned that his Spotify consisted strictly of music from the ’40’s and nothing else, contrary to what he’d told Sam about diving into Marvin Gaye’s discography. He’d learned that I got cold easily which led to both me stealing his hoodies and being on the receiving end of many bear hugs. We could tell what the other would do in combat or how they’d handle a concerning matter, but it was finding out the little things about James Buchanan Barnes that made me fall a little bit harder for him with each revelation.

The unlocking and opening of the door followed by quiet footsteps alerted me to his presence. I heard a few muffled noises before the floorboards outside the bedroom creaked, the door opening directly after. Bucky was careful and nearly silent as he came into the room until he saw that my eyes were open. We shared a lazy smile as he approached the bed.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked.

I shook my head in reply, he came to kneel at my side of the bed and pulled the hand he’d hidden behind his back out revealing a bouquet of daisies. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any cuter,” I chuckled, reaching out to grab the bouquet, “I don’t think anyone’s ever bought me flowers.”

“That’s a crime,” Bucky said as he stood up, shedding his leather jacket as he walked around the bed, “In my time, you always brought a girl flowers on the first date. It was just what you did.”

“I guess we can consider my little extended stay a first date,” I dipped my nose down to smell the flowers, “Although I’m pretty sure in your time you wouldn’t allow a girl into your bed so soon.” Bucky snickered to himself, “A gentleman would never let a lady sleep on the floor. And selfishly,” he tugged his second layer, a grey long sleeved shirt off over his head, and looked down on me lovingly, “I sleep better with you here.”

It was true. He’d told me how he’d only used the bed once since he’d moved in, having slept on the floor instead. I was familiar with the phenomenon, Sam had gone through the same thing when he’d returned from the service. I’d told him that if he had a nightmare and needed to move out to his living room, I’d join him with no hesitations. Shockingly, it hadn’t happened yet and we’d slept in a peaceful tangle of limbs each night that I’d been with him.

Kicking off his boots, he slipped under the duvet and sat up against the headboard, looking over at me and patting his jean clad thigh. I set the flowers down and crawled over to him, sinking down onto his lap and sliding my hands around his neck.

“I like this,” he complimented me with a smirk, tugging at the material of his henley that I was wearing, “Looks better on you than it ever would on me.” “Clearly you’ve never seen you,” I scoffed, I’d also learned that the man had no idea just how attractive he was, “What were you off doing?” “Grocery store,” Bucky answered, gesturing to the sidelined bouquet, “Florist. Dr. Raynor’s office…” “Oh, I didn’t know you had a session this morning.”

Bucky took a deep breath, his hands firmly secured around my waist and his thumbs rubbing at my hips. “I didn’t,” he answered, “I, uh, I crossed off all the names in my book. Thought I’d drop by and let her know.” I gave a breathy laugh, “All of them?” He nodded, “All of them.” Surprised and proud, I placed my hands on his cheeks and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I never doubted you for a second” I said softly, our lips almost touching, “I’m proud of you.”

Bucky gave a small smile, not yet ready to take as much pride as I could in his recovery. I could tell that he was lighter, while his personality was silent and stoic there wasn’t as much sadness lurking beneath it. To those who knew him, the difference in his behavior was visible. The days that I’d been in New York were the happiest I’d seen Bucky since I’d known him.

“So…” I sighed, my hands sliding down to his shoulders, “No more therapy sessions, no more battles to be fought…What do we do now?”

The dreaded question that we’d been avoiding since we’d isolated ourselves from the outside world. There was no doubt as to whether or not I wanted to make it work between Bucky and I, but we hadn’t even discussed what “it” was. What should have unfolded over the course of a couple months had happened as a crash course over two weeks. I didn’t regret it, I just needed to know where Bucky’s head was at regarding our future. “Look,” Bucky averted his gaze downwards, “I’m not…I haven’t done this in a long time and I can’t promise that I’m gonna be good at it. I can’t even promise that I’ll know what I’m doing some of the time. But,” he shyly raised his eyes to meet mine, “I want this. I want you.”

His earnestness was so genuine, I thought my heart might burst from the emotion in his ocean blue eyes. “Bucky, I don’t want perfect,” I said, “And I’m pretty sure that a 106 year old with a robotic arm and a girl who can fly using blue energy from inside her wouldn’t even know what to do with perfect,” I earned a single laugh out of him, “Whatever we have right now, that’s what I want. I want to fight with you by my side and make a difference in the world, then I want to come home with you and teach you to cook something other than pancakes.”

He furrowed his brow, “What do you got against my pancakes?”

“My point is,” I giggled, my hands drifting back up to each side of his neck, “I want you exactly as you are. I haven’t done this in a long time either, I thought that after my dad died I was too broken to ever let myself be happy like this and you know that I’m coming in with more baggage than before. You’re not the only one who doesn’t know what they’re doing. But there’s nobody else I’d rather figure this out with than you.”

The long stare he gave me was reminiscent of the first moment we’d been alone together, standing before the 200 foot drop in Munich. It was the first moment I’d appreciated his beauty, maybe it was the first seed planted in what was now a full-blown relationship in the making. This time, instead of sassing me with those hardened, slightly amused eyes, he surged forward and kissed me, cradling the back of my head in his Vibranium palm. I returned the kiss with just as much fervor, gripping the tight blue t-shirt tightly in my fists. Unlike the kisses we’d shared at 1AM in the kitchen of my house, this one carried a different weight. It was a promise of a future. Movie nights introducing Bucky to the classics that he’d missed. Lazy mornings in bed turned passionate as our bodies surrendered to one another. Protecting each other on whatever battlefields we’d inevitably end up on. Frustrating fights over something we’d inevitably admit was stupid to argue over. Whispering soothing affirmations to help Bucky come down from a violent nightmare. I could taste it all, the good and the bad, in that one kiss and I wanted every bit of it.

“Two weeks…” I said after we’d parted, shaking my head in amazement and laughing, “That’s all it took.” “Crazier things have happened,” Bucky reassured me with a smile, running his hands up and down my back, “My folks always said they knew in a week and they were together for almost forty years.” I bushed my lips against his softly, basking in the euphoria of knowing that the two of us belonged wholly to one another. To think that I’d been willing to throw all of it away mere days ago, I was ready to deprive myself and Bucky of the love we’d craved all our lives. I thanked God that my resolve to stay away had weakened long enough to let Bucky in because now, wrapped in his strong arms with his lips begging for a deeper kiss, I knew that I had something truly spectacular in my hands.

“Well, since this is official,” Bucky said, a little breathless, “There’s something you should have.” He took his hands off of my body and reached behind his neck, pulling off one of his dog tags. Understanding what he was doing and the significance of it, I moved my head to allow him to place the necklace over it, the cold metal of the ball chain settling against my neck. The tag fell between my breasts, I picked it up and read Bucky’s name, his service number, the name of his sister, their address and his birth place. He’d given me, a part of his future, a piece of his history.

“Bucky…” I whispered, not trusting my voice enough to come out steady.

“A lot of soldiers gave one of them to their girls before they shipped out,” he recalled, watching me examine the piece of metal, “At least I know if I ever do ship out anywhere, you’ll be with me.” I bit my lip and smiled, looking up at him with misty eyes. When the first tear fell down my cheek, Bucky was quick to wipe it away and did so with a smile of his own. After all the pain we’d both suffered through in life, we were finally allowed tenderness. Our hearts were scarred, our bodies worn, but no amount of trauma could lay a hand on the way we felt about one another. There’d be many more fights, some with forces bigger than the ones we’d spent the last two weeks taking a stand against. But at the end of the day, I had Bucky, my safe haven to come back to.

“It’s getting late,” I observed after a few minutes of sweet silence, the morning hours were slipping away from us, “Are you hungry? I can make us something.” “Yeah, but,” Bucky’s hands found my arms and he rubbed his palms against them, “Let’s stay here just a little while longer…”

A grin spread across my face, one that I was finding only Bucky could bring out in me. “Okay,” I replied, settling my face in the crook of his neck and resting against his chest, the only place I wanted to be.

——

A FEW DAYS LATER

“You ready, Barnes?” “I’m ready.” “This is the most dangerous mission we’re ever going to face.” “I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle it.” “Then why are you sweating?” “I’m not…sweating.” “Well, at least I know you’ll never lie to me. You suck at it,” I smirked just before smoothing out the shoulders of his jacket, “Follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”

Bucky blew out a breath, his cheeks loosing their puff as he exhaled, “Here goes nothing…” I gave three sharp knocks on the door before entering, seeing the familiar face waiting in a chair by the window. “Hey, Mama…” My mother smiled deeply at the sight of her daughter, alive before her. “Baby,” she whispered as she slowly rose to embrace me, “Oh, you’re here.” “I’m here,” I smiled, trying to fight the tears threatening to fill my eyes. My mother had been my first call after the battle in New York, realizing that my face was flashing across every news channel in the country alongside Sam and Bucky. This was the first time I’d seen her since before I’d left Louisiana with Sam.

“And you brought someone?” she asked over my shoulder, pulling away to wipe her cheeks.

“I did,” I turned around and looped my arm through Bucky’s, who was looking vaguely nauseous, “Mom, this is James.”

Bucky stuck out his gloved hand towards my mother, “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Y/l/n.”

“Wonderful to meet you too, James,” she responded, shaking his hand and looking over to me, “I’ve been waiting a long time for Y/n to bring somebody home.” I forced a chuckle, “Thanks, Mom…” “Well, I’m honored that I’m the one she chose,” Bucky beamed, his bright eyes seeking mine out.

“Well, sit down,” my mom gestured to the two free chairs in the room, “I want to hear all about how you two met.”

Bucky and I exchanged a nervous look as we pulled up our seats to join her by the window. How were you supposed to explain that you’d fallen for a 106 year old who just happened to have once been the world’s deadliest assassin? “Um…James is one of Sam’s friends from the military. He came with us to Munich and things just sort of,” I slipped my hand into one of Bucky’s that sat in his lap, “Happened from there.” “We didn’t like each other much at first, but,” Bucky chimed in, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand, “She definitely snuck up on me.”

“Oh my,” she looked at me amusedly, “How’s Sam taking this? Has he threatened you yet, Bucky?” “Yeah, I, uh, got a text from him the other day, and it read something like ‘I’ve got access to government weapons, don’t make me use them.’”

I covered my mouth and snorted as my mother got a good laugh herself, “You didn’t tell me that.” Bucky shook his head, a small smile on his lips, Sam and him had been getting along swimmingly since his last visit to Louisiana. But no friendship could eclipse Sam’s overprotective nature when it came to his family, it was only a matter of time until Bucky was on the receiving end of its ugly side.

“Truth is,” Bucky turned his gaze to my mother while keeping a soft grip on my hand, I could feel his nerves radiating through his touch, “I’m crazy about your daughter, ma’am, I think she’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

Mom sighed, an ear-to-ear grin painted across her face. It was the same one I’d seen when my sister had first brought her now husband home to meet us. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear that, James,” she replied, “I’m looking forward to getting to know you more.” “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” I questioned, “It’s been so long since the whole family was together.” “I wish, but I’m a little too tired to make the trip there,” Mom answered, settling into her seat a little more, “You don’t need an old lady there slowing you down.” “That’s ridiculous,” I gently pushed back, “But since Sam and I are back home for a while, we’ll make sure to bring everybody up one of the weekends.” “I’d like that,” she smiled. A phone buzzing interrupted the conversation, Bucky let go of my hand to reach into his jacket pocket. “It’s Sam, probably wants an ETA,” he announced, rising from his seat and looking between both me and my mother, “Sorry.”

Both of us shooed him out of the room to take the call, turning back to one another once he was gone with shining smiles. “Honey…” “I know…” I tried to hold back a giddy laugh threatening to erupt.

“He seems wonderful…” I shook my head, semi in disbelief that things had turned out the way they had. “You don’t even know the half of it, he’s just…I’m crazy about him.” “That much is obvious,” Mom gestured to my face, “You haven’t stopped smiling since you walked through that door. I’ve never seen you this happy. Just one thing…” I furrowed my brows as her smile turned to a knowing smirk, “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t know who he is?” I sighed, leaning forward in my seat and propping my elbows on my knees. “We weren't trying to hide it, he just doesn’t like to advertise it. Once people know, they usually can’t look past what he was. But, Mom, we’ve been glued at the hip for the last two weeks and I can promise you, what you’re seeing is what you’re getting. I wouldn’t be with him if I thought there was any chance he could hurt me. He saved my life and so many others last week...” “Sweetie, you don’t have to try and sell me on him,” Mom said soothingly, reaching out to touch my knee, “I trust your judgement and I also know what happened to him, it was tragic. The fact that he has a second chance at his life makes me happy, especially since it’s with you. Watching the two of you, how at ease he is with you…And those eyes,” she stopped to chuckle, “The way he looks at you is something special, it’s something magical. The two of you fit.”

Eventually I would tell her the whole story of how Bucky and I came to be, but it was better saved for another day. If she only knew how challenging it had been to get to something so simple and how Bucky and I valued each other all the more for it. “He fought for me, Mama,” I said with tears brimming, letting out a laugh, “Literally and metaphorically. And I just couldn’t let him go, he’s everything I’ve wanted but what I thought I could never have.” Mom placed a hand on my cheek, “You deserve him, my love. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve happiness.” And for the first time, I believed her. I believed that through my suffering, I had played a small part in helping Bucky through his. We deserved something more than what had happened to us and we had found it in one another.

“Your father would be proud of you,” Mom said, her face flashing with a different emotion than joy for a brief second. “I’m not sure about that…” I mumbled, dodging her eyes in favor of staring down at my hands, a different reaction than I’d ever had when talking about my father.

“Sweetie,” she coaxed me, tapping at my hands until I looked back up at her, “Do you…do you know something?” My heartbeat started to quicken as I struggled to contain the information I was withholding from my mother. It was taking everything I had not to tell her that her husband had been a part of one of the cruelest organizations the world had ever seen. The pain must have reflected in my expression. “Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lip and closing her eyes, “You know…” “Mom?”

She sighed, sitting back in her chair and supporting her head in her hand. “I didn’t know anything about that part of your father’s life when I married him, he didn’t like to talk about his time in the ‘service’ and I never pushed it…It wasn’t until the night that he died, before he left the house, that he sat me down and confessed it all.” “He…” I moved to the edge of my seat, “He told you?” “Mmhmm,” she nodded, a distant look in her eyes like she was transported back in time to that very moment, “I didn’t know how to process any of it, how could I? This man who I’d shared my life with and he’d made his living off of inflicting pain on innocent people. Hours later, he was gone and any chance to delve deeper into it was gone too. It’s taken me a long time to come to terms with everything, but I made it. You’re free to draw your own conclusions, Y/n, I’m not telling you how to feel. All I’ll say is this,” Mom drew a breath before continuing, “Your father’s guilt over what he did, to Bucky specifically, overwhelmed him. He told me how HYDRA manipulated him, a young and ambitious man, into coming to work for them, lying and telling him they were creating a better world with their work. He thought he was fighting for what was right…I’m not making excuses for him, believe me, I’m simply telling you what he told me. Do you remember when he’d wake up from a nightmare?” I nodded grimly, the shrieks of my father’s always strained vocal cords still haunted me decades later. “Do you remember what he used to cry when he woke up?” Mom asked.

I silently shook my head in reply, when I’d be awoken by my fathers blood curdling screams as a child, I’d always bury my head under my pillow in an effort to block it out, shedding tears at knowing I couldn’t help him. “Soldat…”

My head perked up, the word was familiar to me after hearing Zemo call Bucky the same thing when we were undercover in Madripoor. “Of course by the time that your James was free, your father had been dead for over a decade but,” Mom paused, looking out the window as memories hit her, “Your father’s guilt over what he did ate away at him every day. As far as you went, he told me that the reason he wanted to keep your powers hidden was because he was afraid HYDRA would come for you. It’s the reason I moved us to Delacroix after he died, I didn’t want to take the chance of somebody finding you. Dad didn’t want them to make you a weapon the same way they made one of James. But honey,” she took my hand, “He believed you could do great things, truly. One of the last things he said to me was that our family was the one good thing he’d done in life.”

Everything that I’d thought and everything I’d never thought had been revealed to me. My father’s crimes could never be erased, but some part of me felt satisfied knowing that he knew what he did was wrong. He’d been haunted day and night by Bucky, the man who I was completely head over heels for. In some way, it felt poetic that Bucky and I had ended up together. I couldn’t magically heal his trauma, but for every bit of torture my dad and countless others inflicted upon him, I was now there to shower him in the love and safety he deserved.

“Have you…forgiven him for what he did?” I hesitantly asked.

“You know, after all these years, I’m still not sure what forgiveness looks like in a situation like this,” she admitted with a small shrug, “We weren’t affected, yet his past put us in danger, especially you. And now, seeing the man that he was paid to hurt and how much joy he brings you, it’s bringing up a lot of emotions I thought I’d buried. I know he regretted what he’d done with his whole being and I believe that, but I still question why he didn’t leave sooner. I wish I could give you a better answer but-“ “Mama,” I squeezed her hand and pushed back my tears to help her, “I’ve had this information for a week and I’m still spinning, I can’t imagine what it’s like to sit on it silently for this long. I was hellbent on keeping this from you but I’m actually relieved that I don’t have to hide it…” I took a trembling breath, “Dad did a lot of things wrong in his life, but I have a chance to do a lot of good. I’ve talked to Sam and I’m going to keep working with him, I’m done living with my hands tucked under my legs. I want to make the difference in the world that Dad thought he was making.” “I think you’re off to a pretty good start,” my mother replied, “I was terrified watching you fly around New York, but I’d also never been prouder of you.” A knock on the door followed by Bucky sticking his head through it broke us from the topic. “Am I interrupting?” he asked, his eyes widened slightly as he worried. “Not at all,” my mom said cheerily as she slowly rose from her seat, “I don’t want to keep you two any longer when you’ve got somewhere to be.”

I tightly embraced her and placed a kiss on her cheek, “Love you,” I whispered.

“Love you too, sweetheart,” she replied, gesturing afterwards to Bucky who made his way over to her and allowed himself to be hugged by her, “Take care of my girl, James.” “I will,” Bucky promised, pulling back to give a nod full of conviction.

Once the two of us had shut my mom’s door and were back out in the hallway of the nursing home, Bucky noticed the slight puffiness of my eyes. “Happy tears or sad tears?” he asked as we walked down the hall.

“‘I don’t know’ tears,” I replied with a small smile, weaving my fingers between his gloved metal ones. “But well done, Sergeant. I’d consider that a successful mission,” I finished, receiving the laugh I loved so much and a kiss to the side of my head. I pressed my lips to the place on his shoulder where I knew underneath his layers Vibranium met his skin, one of his favorite places to be kissed. My phone went off then, alerting me to a text, I pulled it out of the pocket. “Bucky…” I muttered, stopping in the middle of the hall. “What is it?” he asked as he stepped back to join me, I held my phone out for both of us to read the ominous words displayed.

The world’s seen what you can do, come to Madripoor when you decide to use those hands for something worthwhile.

- The Power Broker

“How did they get my number?” I asked in surprise, letting Bucky take my phone to examine it closer as if he could find something I couldn’t. “I don’t know,” he answered, handing the device back to me, “But we’re changing it immediately, you need to show this to Sam soon as we get to the house.” “They’re not actually threatening me, seems more like a job offer than anything else that’s only going to be declined. Plus, they’re all the way in Madripoor,” I stuck the phone back in my pocket, “I’m not going to let this ruin our day.” Bucky frowned down at me as I took his arm once again, “You’re a little too relaxed about this.” “I’m a mutant who can make things move with her mind with Captain America for a brother and a Super Soldier for a boyfriend, I’d love to see the Power Broker try to mess with that.”

——

The dock was exactly how I loved to see it, packed and filled with joy.

Sam and Sarah had invited the whole town to the celebratory cookout, people of all ages flooding our corner of the bayou as Bucky and I pulled up. Sam had loaned us his truck for the duration of our stay and I was having the time of my life showing Bucky around Louisiana and there was nothing more Louisiana than a cookout with the entire community.

Bucky parked near the end of the dock and hopped out, carrying the ice cream cake that we’d picked up on our way. He crossed around the front of the truck to open the door for me, taking one of my hands and helping me hop out of the passenger side. After a dozen more reassurances during the drive that the text I’d received wasn’t worth freaking out about, he’d begun to relax. For once, he wasn’t trying to hide his emotions. I could see it plain as day on his face, he was genuinely excited to be back in Delacroix and even more excited when the familiar sounds of AJ and Cass hit our ears.

“Oh! There he is!” Bucky greeted as the boys ran up to us and began throwing fake punches at my boyfriend who willingly played along, dramatically dodging their imaginary hits. He raised up the hand that held the cake over Cass’ head and yelled to which I quickly threw an energy shield underneath his arm to protect the overly expensive dessert.

“Aunt Y/n! Can you make us fly?” AJ came up to my side and begged.

Cass backed his brother up, “Yeah, can we? Please?” “No,” I replied, retaking Bucky’s hand and letting him lead us through the crowd, “But you can follow us with your two perfectly functional legs.” My nephews both groaned and laughed as they fell in step behind Bucky and I. “Where is everybody?” he asked as he set the cake down on one of the picnic tables set out and removed his sunglasses.

“Uncle Sam’s taking pictures with people, Mom’s cooking and Aunt Mel’s at one of the tables,” Cass answered, his face lighting up as he got a good luck at the dessert.

“After dinner,” I said, quickly having switched back into aunt mode, “Now lead the way.”

I extended my hand toward the boys and raised them up a few inches above the ground, receiving laughter and praises in return as I moved them ahead of us and through the crowd. Along the way people kept patting me on the back or sneaking in quick hugs, they shook Bucky’s hand and thanked us both for what we’d done in New York. The only thing that confused me was how people weren’t calling me by name. By the time we made it to Sarah, I had questions.

“There they are, America’s Power Couple,” she announced, coming out from behind the booth where she’d been chopping to hug us both. I pulled back to lower the boys back to the ground, “Do you know why people I’ve known almost all my life are suddenly calling me ‘Sapphire?’”

“Did you not check the internet at all when you were in Brooklyn?” she raised an eyebrow before pulling out her phone from her back pocket and pulling up Instagram, “Ever since the night of the fight, people have been referring to you as Sapphire. People are posting pictures of you, trying to get interviews with you, kids are even dressing up like you!” “Oh my gosh,” I mumbled as I scrolled through the hashtag containing the name, seeing all the proof of Sarah’s words before my eyes. Dozens and dozens of various types of photos displayed my signature shade of blue, “Bucky, look!” He took the phone out of my hand, a smile spreading across his face soon after. “That’s my girl,” he said proudly, handing the phone back to Sarah.

“You wanted the superhero life, you got it,” my sister laughed before returning to what she was doing, “Sam’s doing pictures and there’s already been people asking if you were gonna be here so I imagine they’re gonna want some with you.”

Bucky grabbed my hand and led me around to where a line had formed, spotting Sam as the destination. As soon as he caught a glimpse of us, he held up a finger to the crowd and broke away from them. The three of us exchanged hugs, me internally laughing to myself at the fact that two weeks after saying they never wanted to see one another again, they were now brothers in arms. Sam took my hand and tugged me towards where everyone was gathered, “Lotta people have been waiting for you, Sapphire,” he smirked.

As the day went on, the three of us did meet and greets with nearly everybody. At one point I found Bucky casually talking to Sarah with AJ, Cass and other neighborhood kids hanging off his vibranium arm. People had gathered around me as well asking to levitate them, something that provided entertainment for everyone. We ate, we laughed, at one point I caught Sam and Bucky watching the sun set over the Louisiana waters. I couldn’t resist the temptation to sneak in between the two and was received with an arm around each of my sides. We’d fought a shared battle along with our own separate three and now that they’d all been put to rest, we could take a minute to enjoy the freedom we’d worked so hard for. The future was unknown, but I knew that if we’d made it through the mess of a week we’d had together, there wasn’t a whole lot that we couldn’t make it through.

——

When the sky darkened, the dock lights went on and the party kept going. Someone had brought out a Bluetooth speaker and there was now a section of the dock that acted as a makeshift dance floor. I was seated at a table with Melanie watching the show, baby Alexandria fast asleep in her arms. “So…Bucky,” my sister said teasingly teased.

I let out a loud sigh, “Bucky.” “He’s perfect for you,” she smiled, “I’m glad you brought him home.” “Me too,” I scanned the dock until I spotted my boyfriend, engrossed in a conversation with Sam, “He fits right into the family.” “I’ll say, the kids love him. Max and Sophia have been following him around all day, I’ve never been able to get the baby to sleep as fast as when he held her…” I chuckled, “Yeah, just when I thought he couldn’t get any more attractive, you stuck a baby in his arms.” Mel snickered at my reaction, “Yeah, pretty sure every woman on the dock snapped a picture of that.” The two of us burst into laughter before hushing ourselves as to not wake the sleeping infant. “Hey, Sapphire,” she nudged my shin with her foot, “I’m proud of you.” “Well, that’s a far cry from how you felt last week,” I commented, remembering the fear in my sister’s voice from our phone calls in Riga.

“I’m always going to worry about you, but once I actually saw you do your thing,” she breathed, “I was just in awe of how you would risk your life to save all those people. It would be a waste to not put your gift to good use.” I leaned my head against hers and brushed a finger over Alexandria’s thinly haired head, appreciating the sweetness of the moment. Once a slow song came on the speakers, I watched as Bucky stepped away from Sam and made his way over to our table. “Can I steal your sister away for a dance?” he asked Mel. “Steal? You can keep her,” I shot my sister a faux smile while she watched on with a grin as I took Bucky’s outstretched hand and let him lead me away. “Gonna show me some more Madripoor moves?” I jested as we walked across the dock. “That was not dancing, although I did enjoy it,” Bucky replied, giving me a wink that could have melted me into a puddle, “I’ll show you what real dancing is.” I recognized the song as a version of ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ and realized Bucky waited until now to show off any moves in his arsenal because it was probably the first song he recognized on the playlist. He encircled my waist with his flesh arm and took my hand in his Vibranium one, pulling me so close that there wasn’t any space left between us. He began to sway us slowly to the beat of the song. I rested my cheek against his, breathing in the scent of him mixed with the bayou evening air. As far as I was concerned, dancing in the arms of the man I was somehow lucky enough to call my own in the place I loved most in the world was the perfect end to a perfect day.

“Alright, I give…” I relented softly, close enough to his ear that I barley had to speak louder than a whisper for him to hear me, “Your version of dancing is better.” He gave a gentle laugh, the sweetest sound, and rubbed at my waist, “It’s more about the partner than it is the actual dance, think I’ve got the best one.”

“You certainly know how to make a girl blush, Sergeant Barnes,” I replied just before he spun me out of his arms and back into his body, “When’s your flight back to Brooklyn?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, “Already tired of me?”

“Never,” I shook my head with a genuine smile, “Just trying to soak in all the time I can with you before you go back.” “About that…” he trailed off, turning his gaze to the various other couples dancing around us, “I was thinking of maybe extending my stay. I mean the scenery’s nice, good food,” he looked back to me, “Decent people.” The grin that I was fighting was starting to make itself very apparent, “What are you saying?” “Well,” Bucky shrugged and looked away again, “I mean, I’d need to find a place, hopefully nothing too expensive or else I’d have to find a roommate and even then, it’d be hard to find someone I like enough to live with…”

“Bucky…” I’d ceased our movements to show just how serious I was, searching his face to try and tell if he was joking or not. “What do you say, doll? You think you can put up with me a little while longer?” he asked with a smirk. I exhaled happily and pulled him down to my lips, kissing him with all the excitement that filled my veins at the prospect of him staying. When we finally pulled away, I cradled his cheek in my hand. “I will put up with you for as long as you want,” I beamed, pecking his lips once more. “I’m glad,” Bucky kissed my temple, “It was either telling you this or the other thing…” “What’s the other thing?” I asked, thinning my eyes at him in expectancy of another surprise.

Bucky drew a breath, taking a few seconds to steady himself for whatever he was planning to say. “Well, I was going to tell you that I love you but,” he clicked his teeth, “Now that I think about it, it’s probably better saved for another time,” The earth ceased to move and spin at a dizzying pace all at once, his blue eyes never more truthful than they were in that moment. “I think you’re right,” I said over the lump in my throat, holding back the tears that had come all to quickly, “Best to save that for another day, wouldn’t want to make a hasty declaration or anything...” “That’s what I was thinking,” Bucky replied plainly, continuing our charade. I gave him a watery smile, bringing one of my hands up to run through the hairs at the base of his neck. “I love you too,” I whispered.

Both of Bucky’s arms wrapped around my waist, clutching me as tight as he could without actually injuring me as our lips met. I encircled his neck and relaxed into him completely, feeing aglow with the love that I could finally admit to feeling. Both of us smiled into the kiss, feeding off of the mutual joy of what was unfolding before us. Was it crazy to commit in the ways I was committing to a man I’d known for only two weeks? To some, yes. But ‘some’ hadn’t formed the bond that Bucky and I had over the short span of time it had taken for me to fall in love with him. We had seen the best and the worst of each other, rising and falling with one another’s waves and learning what made the other tick. I wanted every part of him, the good, the bad, the traumatic and the pure. The quick decisions that would raise eyebrows made sense to us, and that was more than enough reason for me to see each one through.

“Thanks for not giving up on me,” Bucky said softly after we’d parted, pulling back to admire me. “Thanks for not letting me give you up,” I returned, staring up into the eyes that had first captured me. The eyes that I’d get to stare into each and every day.

Since the night we’d connected on the jet ride to Berlin, there was some way Bucky had made me feel that I couldn’t put a name to. Something I couldn’t understand at the time but I was fully aware of now. Bucky felt like home. And with our bright future ahead of us, wrapped in his arms dancing underneath the Louisiana stars, I’d never felt more at home.

----

A/N: I'm not crying, you're crying. GUYS. IT'S OVER. WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MY TIME NOW? I want to thank every single person who liked, commented, reblogged, sent messages and asks and supported this silly little fic I thought up one day after watching TFATWS. As someone who is super insecure about their writing, seeing it well received was a boost to my confidence to keep running with this. I've loved getting to write this and give it to you all and can't wait to write more for you. I'm adding my new taglist link for anyone who would like to be added, it's separated by the characters I write for and you can choose which ones you'd like to follow. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES AGAIN. I LOVE YOU ALL 3000!!

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlyhufflepuff @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebo @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @i-know-i-can @x-judyjude-x @thebi-valkyrieofvalhalla @buckverse @living-that-best-life @haphazardhufflepuff @citlalireedus @lindseyrae20 @missstef23 @qhbr2013 @sebby-stann @bluemoon-icecream @iixbella @lets-love-little-me @abitofeverythinggg @itsnottilly @sltwins @mads-weasley @hart-failure @natdrunk @nctma15 @obsessedwithjustaboutanything @patdsinner33 @rosebucketbarnes @tylard-blog1

[obae-me]

Hi, I'm back with another ask (if you're still taking them)! Can I request the demon brothers reacting to an MC who usually shies away from touch, but absolutely melts under headpats? Thank you, I love your works, and I hope you aren't overworking yourself!! 💙

I live for the fluff, and I hope this warms your heart reading as much as I did while writing it! Thank you for your request, stay safe and take care of yourself! 💜

Lucifer

He’s not super touchy himself, so any form of physical affection he shows MC is minimal. A hand on their shoulder, an escorting arm, just simple gentlemanly gestures. When he saw that MC wasn’t quite comfortable with these, going so far as to sometimes move away from his body, he stopped even doing those out of respect for their space. He understood more than most that some people didn’t like being touched.

He wasn’t paying attention when he had first done it, giving MC a pat on the head. He was exhausted, having spent all day in meetings, doing paperwork, and cleaning up the messes of his brothers. He was running low on sleep, patience, and logic. His only main focus was work. MC had offered a helping hand, and he didn’t refuse, in fact he was secretly thankful for assistance. Normally, his pride would force him to carry his own work and burdens on his shoulders, but tonight he would let it slide. They handed him some of his work back, all thoroughly checked and edited by their hands. He took the stack without even looking at them, deeply concentrated in another project.

“Thank you,” he muttered, and raised his free hand to touch the top of their head, tapping them with the softest brush of his fingers. It took a moment for his action to register, and he quickly looked up from his work, opening his mouth to apologize for his folly. Then he saw the expression on their face. For once they weren’t moving away from his hands, but instead even shifting their posture so his fingers were now entangled in their hair. Their cheeks were tinted pink as they blushed, and Lucifer tried to ignore the strange flutter in his chest. He smiled tauntingly, but in a sweet way, happy to see that he had now discovered a way to give them praise. His eyes narrowed in on their complexion as it grew redder the more he moved his hand over their head.

He made a note of this interaction for the future. The next time they were alone and he thanked them, he raised his hand, looking MC with a teasing expression. He watched patiently as they squirmed in place before coming over to him. He made sure they incited the action on their own, placing their head under his touch before he patted their head.

He savors moments like these in private, this interaction a secret and intimate display for just him alone. He adores headpats where he can weave his fingers through their hair, taunting them with merely his fingertips. If he’s feeling extra special, he’ll take his gloves off for it. He’d become secretly addicted to this for sure.

He’ll use this method to reward MC whenever they do something that pleases him. It pays off in dividends. He’ll probably tease them for it later when he discovers they’ve been studying harder and been doing chores without him asking for it.

It fills him with enormous pride that they’ll come to him for this. “Hm, what is it you want? Did you want my touch and praise so badly?”

Mammon

Typically anyone who takes the time out of their day to attempt to touch Mammon is when they’re wanting to beat the Grimm out of him for something he’s done. So, because of this, he’s not super touchy either. It’s not that he doesn’t like touch, he’s just not had too many great experiences. So he can relate to how MC feels.

Surprisingly, it was MC who gave him the headpat first. He’d failed a test, already been through an intense lecture by Lucifer, and now his precious Goldie had been taken away yet again, threatened to be put through a shredder. To cheer himself up, he went to MC’s room. When they let him vent, he couldn’t stop telling them how much of an angel they were. He’d been sitting on MC’s floor, his back leaning against their bed while MC sat on top of their mattress. He was getting real deep with his feelings, saying things MC had never heard him be comfortable enough to talk about.

They wanted to comfort him and to reward him at the same time. Not knowing what to do, MC leaned forward and nervously rubbed the top of his head. “There there.”

At first, all the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, warning signals running through his mind as his nerves went on high alert. But then the soothing circles over his head put him more at ease, MC’s comforting voice lulling his fears away. MC was...was...giving him a...a...He almost found himself slipping to the floor, but then he snapped out of it.

“Oi, oi, oi, oi, oi, what’re you doing?” He tore free from them, getting to his feet as he stared down at them. His glasses were slightly crooked and hanging near the end of his nose in his flustered state. “I’m supposed to be the bigger man here, the one supporting you! So…” With a finger, he pushed his glasses up near his face before he hovered a hand above their hair. He took a deep breath, and then gave them a headpat in return, watching their expression and body language go through the same temporary panic as he did.

But then they practically melted in his hands, their eyes shiny with un-spilt tears as their touch starved body received some physical attention. Mammon did his best to prevent his face from getting even hotter than it already was. Who knew he’d love giving them headpats even more than getting one himself?

He’ll dole out headpats to MC left and right now, doesn’t matter when, where, or why, he’s greedy so when he wants to do it there’s no stopping him, but on this particular matter MC doesn’t bother stopping him anyway. He doesn’t ask for something in return for this gesture, for once, but occasionally MC gives him a pat on the head in exchange, watching him stutter as he turns a deep pink.

He loves giving MC headpats where he messes up their hair, ruffling it up and making it wild-looking just so he can do it all over again when they try to fix it.

Levi

You think his brothers are touch starved? He’s probably not had physical contact for decades, but part of that is his fault. He’s always yelling not to be touched, exclaiming loud enough that people in the Celestial Realm could hear, that he needs his personal space. He freaks out if MC accidentally even bumps shoulders with him.

He notices how MC reacts whenever he accidentally touches them, and he takes it very personally. Self doubt and anxiousness take over his mind as he secludes himself in the safe space of his bedroom. With the assistance of the brothers, MC managed to enter his comfort zone, stepping into his room. They started explaining how they were sorry that they were responsible for how he was feeling. They had to bluntly tell him that they don’t like being touched really by anyone, not just him, most things just make them uncomfortable. If there was anyone who knew about it, it was him. They sat down by him, but not too closely, and asked if watching anime with him would make him feel better.

As they’re both watching one of his favorite shows, Levi notices the expression on MC’s face whenever the main protagonist gives one of the love-interests a pat on the head. He’s the demon of envy, he knows longing when he sees it. MC’s eyes were glinting towards the screen. He had to cover part of his face with his arm just simply thinking about doing something like that with MC. It was no surprise that he wanted something like that too. 

“U-um, MC?” Levi’s brain was short-circuiting, and nothing was even happening yet. MC looked at him, their head slightly tilted to the side in curiosity. His heart was already beating out of his chest, they were cute, too cute. “Can I just...try one thing? And! And then if you hate it you can feel free to never talk to me again!” He just needed to know, the temptation of envy at watching a cartoon complete a gesture that he too wanted to make was too great to bear.

“O-okay.”

It took him a full two minutes of squirming in place and blushing to even build up the courage to put his hand in the air. Once he did, he closed his eyes and turned his head away from MC as he placed his palm over their hair. His hand stayed stagnant for a while, just resting atop their head, but then he started moving it, stroking their hair in the same fashion as he’s seen in so many of his shows. Only, he was near tears. Somehow the real thing was so much better.

Once he had finally had enough--he had wanted to keep going but he was worried his poor heart was about to give out--he apologized to MC again for touching them. MC looked down, their face almost just as red as his. When they told him that they didn’t mind and actually-maybe-kinda liked it, his eyes almost sparkled.

He doesn’t do it as often as he’d like, he’s still much too shy and anxious for that. He will manage to do it every so often, waiting until he’s had plenty of time for mental preparation. He waits to strike whenever MC is sad so he can swoop in and be their hero.

He likes the slow simple headpats, moving his hand left and right, feeling the heat inside his chest grow as MC sways their head with his movements.

Satan

Of course he doesn’t prefer being touched, why would he? He gets angry if someone even bothers him when they happen to be in the same room. He needs his space, he needs people to stay away from him, and if he does so happen to want to be touched, he needs it on his own terms. So he actually enjoyed hanging out with MC, because with them feeling the same way as he did, he didn’t have to worry they’d do something reckless like...hugging him or some awful thing.

They were reading together, his favorite activity. There was nothing better than him and his company doing their own thing within a decent distance, and all while being quiet about it. And because MC was being so well-behaved, he permitted them to sit on the same couch as him should they want it. He almost lost his place on the page as he felt their body heat wave off of them as they sat next to him.

However, MC kept moving, shifting to change position every few moments, trying to get into a comfortable reading position, but not finding one. It was driving him a bit crazy, but he understood their struggle. He weighed the pros and cons of what he was about to suggest in his head. He decided that it would mostly be in his favor. 

“Why don’t you lie down and I read to you?” He asked them, placing a bookmark in between the crevice of his book before placing it aside. They blinked at him, embarrassed that they had bothered him so badly. They got up off the couch, ready to lay on the floor. He gingerly grabbed the fabric of their sleeve. “I’m not asking you to get on the floor, I’m not that rude. To my brothers maybe, but not you.” He took the book that they had been reading and brought it to his face, already feeling some involuntary feelings rise to his cheeks. He patted his legs, hoping they would understand his gesture without him having to go through the pain of saying it.

They understood well enough, getting back on the couch and slowly, slowly, settled down with their head in his lap, their face turned away from him. MC was a bit rigid at first, but slowly relaxed as Satan started reading their story from the point they had left off at. He eventually got so enveloped in the words, he had no idea what he had been automatically doing. It took him about a chapter or two before his actions hit him randomly, his mind going blank, leaving himself tongue tied.

He’d been petting MC’s head for a while now, almost completely unaware. He assumed the feeling in his lap reminded him of a cat curled up over his legs, and he just instinctively had been stroking their head. He’d caught himself in the middle of running his fingers all the way from the top of their head, down to the nape of their neck, almost even scratching behind their ears.

“Is...is something wrong? Why...did you stop?” MC wondered, their voice gentle. He cleared his throat, deducing that their tone meant they found nothing wrong with what he had been doing. He resumed his actions, and felt MC happily shudder in his lap.

Later that night, when he was done reading, he found that he had made MC a little too comfortable, and now they were asleep on him. He didn’t dare move and actually ended up staying there all night.

He’ll only give MC headpats in this exact way, with their head over his thighs, stroking their hair like they were a cuddly pet. He’s melting almost as much as they are. To his enjoyment, MC will ask him if they can read with him much more frequently.

Asmo

He love love loves touch! So seeing MC squirm away from all his forms of affection makes him equal parts gloomy and determined. He’s never had anyone shy away from him like that, even his charm ends up rubbing off on his brothers, and they let him give them physical affection every once and awhile. He knows there has to be some form of touch MC can stand, and he’s ready to find it.

He tries hugs, hand-holding, massages, tickling, cuddling, anything he can think of in hopes MC will react positively. Touch his strongest love-language after all, so he’ll be forever downhearted if MC is never comfortable with it. Never comfortable with him...

He was close to figuring it out though, he knew it. His last massaging experiment had his hands around their head and neck, and he felt the muscles in their body unwind just the slightest bit. So, today he had them in his room, sitting on the chair in front of his mirror as he brushed their hair. Like before, they weren’t as tense, and were surprisingly complacent as he dragged his brush through their smooth strands. He was so jovial over this, he was almost humming to himself.

“MC, your hair is almost just as pretty as mine!” He put the brush down for just a second to run his fingers through their locks. MC’s body shuddered, their eyelids fluttering. The heart in his chest pounded in excitement when MC leaned their head towards his hand. He was almost as happy as the time Lucifer let Asmo give him a shoulder massage. “Hmm, what’s this?” He grinned and played with their hair some more, using his hands to pat down and fix any stray strands. MC refused to look at his gaze in the reflection of their mirror, their face adorably red. He just wanted to squeeze them! Asmo pressed his cheek to their head as he continued to pet and comb his fingers throughout MC’s hair.

He pets their head now as frequently as MC will allow. He especially prefers to do it when he notices they’re tense or stressed. Just a few minutes of his magical hands running over their head and all the tension in MC’s body practically melts away.

His special version of headpats come with special scritches. He’ll let his long nails gently scratch at their scalp, causing shudders to run through MC’s spine. Once, MC even moaned softly in comfort as he did this, causing him to almost collapse. Who knew something so chaste and simple could get him so pleased?

Beel

He’s a big lovable teddy bear, and so he loves to give hugs. It’s third on the list of things he loves, family, food (not always in that order), and comforting embraces following right after. The first time he gave MC a hug, they felt frozen, unable to hug him back. They only began to breathe again after he let them go. He respects the fact that they don’t like touch, but it will make him a bit melancholy for a while.

He only figured out MC adored headpats because they practically told him, he ended up being the only one they felt comfortable enough opening up to. Maybe it was because he couldn’t help but sulk for a few days after MC asked not to be touched. They felt a bit guilty for him, after all, he was only trying to show MC wholesome affection.

He had been in the kitchen, getting a large selection of goodies for his midnight snack when the door opened. He almost jumped when MC came into the room, as he went about clutching the food to his chest. He looked over MC before saying anything, their eyes and face a bit puffy from crying. They looked deeply upset.

Beel got so rattled from their expression, he almost dropped his precious food. He hurriedly put it all on a kitchen counter before talking to them. “MC, it’s so late, what’s wrong?” His natural instinct was to hold his arms out, ready to give them a tight embrace, but he bit his lip as he kept his arms lowered. Not knowing how best to comfort them was killing him, leaving the already gaping hole in his stomach feeling even emptier.

“I...I don’t know...I just…” MC placed their hands over their face as they began to cry some more. Beel got closer to them, every inch in his body twitching as all he wanted was to scoop them up.

“Well...what...what can I do to make you feel better? I’ll do anything!”

As they were sniffling, they outstretched one of their arms, waiting for his hand. He let them take it, taking notice of the vast difference between sizes. They felt so small next to him. MC grasped his hand with their own, doing their best to keep from shaking. Beel hadn’t quite been ready for MC to place his hand over their head, holding onto his wrist. He hesitated for a second, starting off very slow. The more he pet them, the more they started to calm down.

This made his heart swell immensely. He was so overjoyed that he was making MC happy, that he got to touch them, that he got a bit carried away as his built up emotions flowed straight to his hands. He moved his hand back and forth a bit aggressively, all purely by accident. He’d had his eyes closed as he couldn’t contain himself, his heart feeling like bursting. He was shaking MC back and forth so violently, they had to grasp onto his clothes from falling over. He quickly stopped, apologizing profusely while MC held tightly onto him as they waited for the room to stop spinning.

He will want to do this all the time, it satiates some sort of hunger in his stomach when he does, and MC doesn’t complain. Just as long as he does it gently. He’ll pet them like a fragile creature, as he closes his eyes and almost glows in happiness when he does. The gesture reminds him a lot of comforting Belphie.

Belphie

Like Satan, Belphie is only somewhat okay with touch if it’s on his terms. He almost always needs to initiate it, or ask for it at the very least. The only exception to the rule is his twin Beel. His brother is always picking him up, hugging him, or letting Belphie sleep on him.

When MC explained that they didn’t like touch, he was okay with it. What, did they think he cared? It’s no big deal, whatever, he’s too tired to worry about it. It does affect him, but he’s not even sure why. Is it because they look so soft to him that he wants to cuddle them like a pillow? Is it because he just wants to feel their sweet warmth? Is it because he wants to spite his brothers by being the only one able to touch them? He’s unsure. The only thing he is sure of is it’s making him a bit restless.

So, to deal with this, he did what came most naturally to him. That being coming into MC’s room unannounced in the dead of night. He’s still not used to normal human manners or behavior, or he doesn’t really care. Possibly both.

He watched MC sleep peacefully in bed, the silver rays of moonlight seeping through their window and landing on their head, reflecting off the color of their hair. He knelt close to the bed, tucking his pillow close to his chest as he watched them sleep for a bit. Then he lazily raised his hand, plopping it over their head. Their body jolted a bit as their eyelids opened.

“B-Belphie?” MC moved a bit, coming out of their tired haze.

“Shh, this is just a dream,” he told them, abusing his powers a bit as he influenced their exhaustion. A sleepy gaze coated their eyes. They ceased moving, nuzzling their head against the pillow as they no longer went to question why he was in their room.

He ran his hand gently over their head, watching color flush their cheeks as they stared at him in their dreamy state. Their lips almost curled into a smile, and Belphie pulled his cow-printed pillow closer to his chest, hoping to muffle the rapid beating of his heart. He pet MC’s head until they fell fast asleep again.

In the morning, MC looks at him in a weird way, more flustered than usual. He’ll tease them about it a bit, questioning their actions and feeling twisted satisfaction when they explained that they simply had experienced a strange dream last night.

He might continue to do this, giving them affection before bed and persuading them it was nothing more than a dream, but eventually he’ll want them to know it was real. He’ll just enjoy this secret interaction a little more before he does tell them, though.

He likes to pet their head in a way that lets their hair look like sleepy bed-hair, he finds it unbelievably adorable. He’ll start from the top of their head and work down towards their cheek, letting MC nuzzle against his palm before they sleep.