#he would be so proud saying how he saved her parents countless times n they wouldnt have got together if it wasnt for him 😭

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Broken trust, pt.5

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four  

Summary: Meeting at the fold, Aleksander has a choice to make and this time, his anger threatens his control.

Warnings: angst (my apologies), fluff sprinkled on top, indicating smut

a/n - This one is the last one before the finale, I’m sure this time.

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Darkness stood before her, utterly filled with terrors spoken of in every tale in Ravka. Y/N stared at the fold from a distance, remembering the first time she had seen it. 

It unnerved her in the past, the unknown playing with her imagination to fashion something much worse than reality. She was no fool, Y/N understood the gravity of what she wanted to execute. This fold had taken countless lives since its creation – her parents as well. 

Exhaling loudly, she placed a hand over her chest as she closed her eyes. Whatever possessed Aleksander to create the fold couldn’t excuse the lives lost or the orphaned children who grew up the same way she did.

“Are you sure?” Mal’s voice is heavy, nearly pleading for her to give up her plan. She glances at him, not with uncertainty but with unwavering determination.

“I have to do this. You know this.”

Reaching for her hand, Mal’s fingers slip across her open palm, intertwining with her own. “It’s not too late to change your mind. This burden doesn’t have to be yours.”

A heavy sigh passes her lips, but it does nothing to relieve the true weight inside her chest. “I will never be free of it if we leave now.”

“Of him, you mean?” Mal frowns, his lips pressing in a thin line she wished she could turn into a smile. “You’ll never be free of him.”

“You could have been on that ship”, she reminds him, gently stroking his cheek. “If I wasn’t in that tent and I didn’t meet him, you’d have been on that ship with no survivors.”

Looking up at the sky, he sighs, “It would be better.” His eyes meet the surprise in hers, “I wouldn’t be sending you off into the darkness without any control over what will happen.”

“I’ll come back”, Y/N musses. “I always do”, she smiles softly, sniffling.

“You better!”

Slapping Mal’s arm, Y/N frowns, “I’m kind of insulted how little faith you have in me!”

Fingers running down her spine had caused shivers run throughout Y/N’s body. She chuckles, hiding her face in the crook of Aleksander’s neck.

“Don’t hide from me”, Aleksander complains. Trying to untangle himself in order to take control once more, his throaty chuckle furthers her need to cling to him.

Her arms wrap around him, pulling him closer as if he’s the air she needs to breathe. “I used to daydream about us.” Her small voice freezes him, his lips twitching with her confession.

“In what manner?”

Rolling to her side, Y/N glances at him only to shake her head. “It’s silly.”

Cupping her cheek, Aleksander leans in, close enough for their noses to touch. “Tell me.”

“I imagined how it would feel like to wake up and see your hair disheveled or how your lips would feel against mine”, her eyes flicker to his lips, causing her to lick her own. “Just about how I’d fall so hopelessly in love with you.”

“So you’re in love with me”, Aleksander raises an eyebrow, teasing her.

Wide eyed, Y/N blushed deeply with his heavy gaze upon her. He never blinks, never stammers or stumbles – Aleksander is a work of art and she couldn’t believe she blurted her feelings out  for such perfection in a foolish daydream ramble.

“I wanted to tell you I love you without making a fool of myself, but that didn’t work”, she huffs, turning on her back. Staring at the ceiling, she wished she could hide now. A man as serious as Aleksander must find her so immature after her display of childish behavior, but she couldn’t face him.

Instead, he propped himself up on his elbow, his face obscuring her view of the ceiling. “I find it adorable”, he whispers almost wistfully and Y/N couldn’t understand why. 

What is he longing for when she’s right there, under him? She didn’t miss the lack of a love proclamation on his behalf, but she could wait a while longer to hear him say it. After all, she’s the one he’s meant to be with.

“So you won’t run for the hills, screaming?” She kinked her eyebrows, beaming at his silent determination.

“Takes far more to frighten me, Sunshine. I’ll always be there for you.” He leans in, pecking her forehead. “For you”, he adds as his body presses her into the mattress. Staring intently in her eyes, his knee pushed her thighs apart. Resting his forehead on hers, Aleksander’s hand moved up her forearm until his fingers intertwined with hers, holding her hand tightly in his as he pushed inside her.

A moan escapes her, eyes closing as he whispers into her parted lips, “And inside you.”

Aleksander never wanted to leave his Sunshine. He wanted to spend the rest of eternity with her unraveling under him each and every night. He still loves her more than anyone else could. All he could think about is how it might need an eternity for him to make things right with her, because in time he believed she’ll see reason and understand he’s right.

But she fell in love with him as he is, temper and wicked plans and horrible notions of what love is. She knew that about him before she ever learned of who he is. She looked past everything he had done, Aleksander couldn’t figure out what’s so different about this.

“General”, Ivan stops at the entrance of his tent, out of breath. “Someone is spotted at the outskirts of the fold. The men believe they mean to enter the darkness on their own.”

Standing, Aleksander straightens his back. His eyes narrow and his jaw unclenches long enough for him to speak, “Who is it?”

“A woman and a man”, Ivan responds, swallowing thickly as he takes note of the general’s flared nostrils.

Forming fists, Aleksander lifts his chin. Despite the end of their relationship, Aleksander didn’t forget Y/N’s promise. He knew she’s brave, far braver than any Grisha he’d ever met. Aside from him, that is. 

His Sunshine had a persisting quality about her, one he used to appreciate before. She would defy the devil himself if he stood in her way and it used to bring a smile to Aleksander’s lips. This time around, he and the fold are her devil.

“STOP THEM”, he orders. “She had never been in the fold before!”

His booming voice surprised even him, but it terrified Ivan who nodded and ran out as if he would cut him in half right then and there. To make matters worse, Aleksander wasn’t sure he wouldn’t.

Looking at his hands, he could have sworn he caught a tremble in a usually steady right hand. “What are you planning, Y/N?”

Fingers grazing Y/N’s, Aleksander felt a tingle run up his arm and to his heart. He always felt like shadows clouded any chance for happiness. Somehow, through it all, he saw where the shadow ends and there she stood. He trusted in her light, the one he could see even when she didn’t conjure it to the surface. She was Sunshine incarnated, his saving grace.

“I’ll never be strong enough”, she croaks, turning away from Aleksander.

With a frown etched on her forehead, Y/N swallowed thickly. She didn’t expect Aleksander to slide a finger under her chin, tipping her face up to his. He smiles, the gesture lighting up his eyes, enough to lock her breath in her throat.

She wondered how many were as lucky as she is to see those dark skies hang stars to lead them out of a storm.

She hoped none did. Selfishly, she hoped to be the only one who knows how gentle, how kind the Darkling can be.

“You make me proud, you know that?” His words are honey, his lips set in a genuine grin as he brushes his nose against hers. “You are the strongest person I know.”

Biting her lower lip, she looks into his eyes briefly, but long enough to know he won’t judge her. 

“Could you hold my hand?” 

He had all the understanding she sought in his dark hues, a tenderness she always prayed to find in someone. There was no doubt in her mind she could trust Aleksander.

As his hand embraces her smaller one, she can’t help but look up at him with a look he wasn’t used to.

She looked at him with hope, with expectations of something he wasn’t sure he’d be able to rise to, but he was determined to try.

“Can you tell me more about you?” It felt vastly important to see the change in every line of his handsome face as he remembered the past and she didn’t want to miss a single word, expression or look he could bestow upon her. He felt more important to her than anyone and this wasn’t just a story, it was his story.

If he were honest with her then, Y/N knew she’d have forgiven him. There was no shadow of doubt about it as she stared at the fold mere inches before her. She could see what true darkness is and she never saw it in Aleksander. That’s when the guilt appears, taunting her. If she stayed with him, could she have managed to change his mind about it all without ever spending a day without him? She still missed him far too much, more than she should.

“Stop!”

Looking over her shoulder, she flashes an uncertain smile that disappears just as quickly it came to be, fading to give way for her tear-filled eyes to glisten like stars in the moonlight. She should be angry, she should be running away from him, yet the sight of Aleksander riding toward her only rooted her.

“You can’t stop me”, she remarked, her eyes brimming with tears as he frowned, his forehead forming a few worry lines she’d normally tease him about because their age difference is so vast despite him looking so young, but she reveled in knowing he actually cares enough to worry about her. 

Unless it wasn’t worry for her, rather the fold.

“You can’t possibly do this, Y/N! Even if I wanted to help you destroy the fold, I’d never send you in so soon with so few preparations!” He smiles, but the gesture is empty, it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’ll fail.”

"If you really thought I couldn't do this, you wouldn't be trying so hard to stop me", she snapped, "to distract me!"

For one instant, she feared she’d gone too far. There was something, a flash in his eyes, an expression that flitted over his face that locked her breath in her throat. But then he relaxed, not completely, but much of his frightening tension - battle-ready tension - seemed to flow out of him.

"I'm trying to stop you because you're going to kill yourself trying", he replied. "You begged me to let you go and I did, but look at you now.” His frown deepens, “You’re standing at the edge of certain doom and you have no one to guide you."

“So guide me!” Lifting her chin, she struggled to draw breath and forced herself to shrug as she looked away. “You said you'd always be there for me, with me”, she pauses as she remembers he also promised to be inside her. And he was right, he’s inside her, just not in a pleasurable way. He courses through her veins like a disease, an infection she can’t eradicate. ”So how did this happen? Why weren't you here?”

She wanted him to say something – anything. She wanted him to fight for her, to say he couldn’t imagine life without her and to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness which she’d give…even after everything, she’d give him the forgiveness and love he seeks.

The way her tears fell had grabbed onto his heart and squeezed it tight, those drops of salt filled with emotion had reached him too, tearing through him unforgivably.

“If you go in there, I’ll have no choice but to hurt you.” His voice is shaky, his resolution weaker than the words he’s using. “Don’t put me in this position.”

“So you really think I can’t read you? That I don’t know when you’re lying to me?” A meek smile appears on her dry lips, “Didn’t you promise me you’d never lie to me again? Never to hurt me?”

“Y/N”, Aleksander raises his voice as a warning, yet her smile refuses to falter as her eyes hold his gaze captive.

Her lips part, her mind screaming with every step she takes backwards toward the fold, yet she never felt more at peace. She didn’t know what is stronger – her need to run and save her heart from heartbreak by staying in his arms forever, or her determination to destroy the fold. Yet with every step, she’s more convinced that both those needs are one of the same.

“Don’t”, he holds out his hand once she turns away from him, a step away from the fold he created.

Looking over her shoulder, she knew there was no choice at all. The need to save herself from heartbreak and the need to destroy the fold both require her to save Aleksander from himself.

Pushing his hair back, he dismounted, taking a few steps closer to her. 

“Come on, love. Draw your invisible swords. Stop me”, she challenged, seeing the anger she evoked once his shadows began pouring from around him. 

He ignored her words as he advanced, his dark eyes growing darker. He bent over her, took her defiant chin in his hand. She tried to pull away but he held her fast. He kissed her, roughly at first but then his grip and kiss became gentle, deep – a proper lover’s kiss.

Y/N felt herself drifting. The pleasure of his hand on her cheek, his kiss, it weakened her resolve. He pulled away from her and looked deep into her eyes, the warm and glowing fire behind them setting his own light ablaze. All thoughts of hatred were gone from them, yet his darkness surrounded them slowly.

Narrowing her eyes, Y/N stumbles back. “No. No”; she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her lips quivering. “You can’t just kiss me and make it alright.”

“You’re my weakness”, Aleksander admits, “the one thing I lack power against. Whether it’s loving you when you’re near and driving me absolutely mad or feeding your memory after you were gone. Letting you go was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.” He narrows his eyes at her with a simmering anger burning in them, “It’s just not in me to do nothing and let you slip away again.”

Scoffing, Y/N stands her ground, “We could have made it work. If you loved me, you'd have fought for me. You'd have listened to me and abandoned the foolish notion of power you seek. But you didn't, which means I loved you more than you loved me.” 

"I FOUGHT FOR YOU! You didn't let me win. What was I supposed to do, huh? Force your hand and drag you to Little palace by the hair?” Gripping her arm, Aleksander pulled her closer, her hand resting on his chest with her palm open toward his heart. She’s not a heartrender, but her touch does possess the ability to make his heart explode. 

“Should I have taken you by the throat until you submitted?” He speaks lowly, his voice darker than she had ever heard it before. “Did you expect I'd want to see your hatred for me every single day if I made you stay? Tell me, WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!"

Swallowing thickly, she was rendered speechless. She didn’t know what to say without provoking him further. A part of her wondered if she should fear him, if he would kill her if it came to it.

“I fucking need you more than I need to breathe.” He says through gritted teeth only to release her from his bruising grip. If she was anyone else, she’d be a corpse by now. He knew it, but so did his people. Soon enough, they’ll lose respect for him. People will stop fearing him if he keeps allowing her to defy him.

"You make them all think you're a heartless murderer, but you're not. I know you're better than that." Her voice is raspy and devastatingly painful. Y/N takes a few steps back, her eyes no longer holding back tears as they spill down her cheeks.

His heart is desperately flailing inside his chest as her grief overcomes her features and he can’t touch her again, he can’t make it go away. Time and time again, he’s the cause instead of being her cure.  

In her pain she sees him as the bad guy, yet in truth he’s drowning in a sea of uncried tears too. 

When you hurt a woman you love, most of them can’t even look at you, not even turn to you. But what does a man do when the woman he hurt, the woman he loves most in the world, stares right into his soul as he shatters her completely?

What can a man do when her teary eyes hold his with such bravery, such complexity as she crumbles and he has to bear witness? When he’s the perpetrator and sole witness of her fears and sorrow?

There isn’t a single thing in this world that breaks like a heart does, Aleksander knew that now for in this silent exchange between their souls, the silence has never been so deafening.

"But I am a murderer." His jaw clenches as he raises his chin, “If you take another step, I will prove it to you.”

Eyes narrowing, Y/N nods to herself. Averting her gaze, she pursed her lips before turning around so quickly Aleksander didn’t have time to react.

She held her breath once she entered the fold, moving left on instinct.

Covering her mouth, she looks up at the thundering clouds that seem to be the only light in the fold. Merely seconds after she moved, a knife like substance crossed into the fold, slicing the air where she once stood and a gasp escaped her.

She looks back, finding no trace of Aleksander, but she wasn’t a fool – that was meant to be his gift to her for defying him.

Swallowing thickly, she shakes her head at the devastating thought. Is he past saving? Would he truly kill her?

Part 6/finale

#the darkling x reader #the darkling #shadow and bone #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #aleksander x reader

[venusguks]

Solace in Seoul

— Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Fem!Reader (Reader x Kim Taehyung on the side)

— Summary : the falling apart of you and kim taehyung, and the coming together of you and jeon jungkook

— Genre/Warnings : plot driven, angst, smut, fluff, sugar daddy/baby relationship, student/teacher relationship w kth, bsfs2lvrs w jjk, unprotected sex, creampie, degredation, oral (f receiving), jk just wants to love you :(, jk is the absolute sweetest really, spit drinking?, praise ( TW : MENTIONS OF FAMILY ABUSE/BRUISES )

ACT 1. | 134340

The first time you talk to Jeon Jungkook again, your mind is elsewhere, absorbed in the lingering absence of Taehyung.

Spring's gentle breeze carried distant laughter and a faint melody from the music club two floors down. The sky carried drifting clouds, the ocean carried rising tides, and you — You carried the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Or at least it felt like it.

The piles of envelopes concerning last two months’ unpaid bills have been devouring your dinner table and heart alike. After receiving the countless of threatening voicemails from your landlord, you'd be naive not to expect a visit—but opening the door to Mrs. Joomi’s bitter scorn didn’t make you feel any less anxious. Juggling two part time jobs all the while maintaining A’s and B’s was nothing easy to accomplish. Hell, living wasn't even easy, and yet, it was like nothing you did was ever enough.

Grief was your composer and you were her violin—her cruel euphony reverberated through your tears when you sat on the cold kitchen floor last night, sifting between your savings that barely made up one month's rent. On top of your midnight breakdown, your dad decided to come home yesterday out of all days and, well, you know how that goes.

The door clicks open, interrupting you from your trance. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

Footsteps pad closer until Taehyung is right next to you. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans back against the metal railing, facing the opposite direction. It's quiet at first. You've noticed long ago that your relationship with him was one that was filled with silence. “Somethings bothering you,” He’s the first to break it. Neither of you take your gaze off the cerulean blue sky. “You could tell?”

“Of course I can, angel," his voice is cool, gentle, and it carries you away with the wind. "You dozed off through the whole lecture today."

Shame tinges your cheeks with the faintest pink, “oh... I’m sorry. I was paying attention, really, I was just—"

"Love," he saighs, "you have nothing to be sorry about. You could skip to sleep in the nurse's office for all I care. I'm just worried about you."

“What a good teacher you are,” you smile, a teasing one, but Taehyung chuckles dryly. “Trust me, if I was a good teacher, I wouldn’t be doing this," he sounds apathetic, but that doesn't stop you from frowning. You finally turn to look at him, his curls of deep brown swaying. “Taehyung... please don’t say that. You’re an amazing teacher, everyone knows it.”

You hoped he knew how genuine you were. God, you hoped to the moon he knew just how good he was. Taehyung may have already been admired for his captivating smile and his nonchalant energy, but everyone respected him for so much more. He was the type of teacher everyone wanted—the cause of counselor’s headaches every autumn for receiving heaps of transfer requests. Even parents and teachers fawned over him, baffled to see the passing rate in math tests accumulate over the years. It hurt that he didn't see that, and it hurt more knowing he didn't think he was respectable because of you.

The man tilts his head to look at you, smiling softly. “You know I’m only joking, doll.”

“Whether you're joking or not, I still... it just worries me when you talk like that,” you pause, "....do you really feel that way?" Do you really regret this?

Taehyung sighs, and the jeweled rings adorning his fingers are cold against your skin as he tucked loose strands of hair behind your ear. “Worrying is my job, angel, so tell me what's been on your mind instead."

If Taehyung noticed the hurt in your eyes, he chose to ignore it. He always did this. You got it, really, you did. There were boundaries for these sorts of relationships. One step closer would bring him one step back, which was why you never probed him any time he disregarded your questions. But a selfish part of you still felt it was a bit unfair, a bit painful to feel him slip away, to realize he was never there in the first place.

It was strange, how he made you feel. His thumb grazed your lips, his breath was light on your skin—if you concentrated hard enough, you swear you could hear his heart beat. He was only inches away.

So why did he feel so far?

Taehyung was your your lighthouse, your harbor, your shore. Through the snowy December nights where his fingers traced sensuous lines down your bare stomach, to the Spring showers of March where his cold lips brushed your inner thigh—Taehyung had always been your solace.

You knew tangling in sexual affairs with your teacher in return for sealed envelopes was wrong, but how could something so sinful feel so heavenly? The unspoken acts committed underneath draped curtains and moonlight's veil felt too dear to you to be called impure. By your sixth rendezvous, you started to wish the intimacy you shared with him could go beyond silk sheets and star speckled lust.

“I want you to confide in me too,” you said one night under the reluctant shadows of warmly lit candles. “I want to help you too, Taehyung. Please, let me help you.” You could tell he's been agitated the whole week, but you'd been too afraid to ask, afraid of him pushing you away. You didn't know where your courage came from then, all that you wished to be more than a distraction. “I don’t need you to help me," Taehyung growled, and you let out a muffled whimper when he rolled your clit with his tongue, your thighs trembling as you reached for his soft curls. "B-But I care a-about—ahn!" You arched your back as he inserted a finger inside of you, curling into your sweet spot with frightening accuracy. "Don’t need you any way else other than this, doll. Just be good and silent for me." That morning, you woke up to a bed void of the man you loved; a white envelope being the only remnant of that night.

You sighed as you recalled that memory, brushing your own fingers over his, tracing the metal bristles of his rings. “Its nothing."

“Don’t say that, angel. I know it’s not nothing."

“Really, Taehyung, i’m fine. Just stressed is all.”

“Stressed...as in financially?” Your sudden tenseness affirms his assumption, making him sigh. "You could've just told me earlier, angel. Tell me how much you need." A repulsing mixture of shame and self resentment brews in your chest, hardening like bitter dalgona. Dirty, despite money sparking your secret arrangement from the very beginning, that’s how you felt every time it was ever brought up. “Hey, look at me doll," as if reading your thoughts, Taehyung gently draws your face close to his with two hands cupping your cheeks, noses barely brushing. “Don’t ever feel guilty about this. Just treat it as an early birthday present, yeah?"

You couldn't help but frowning, your hands roaming the access of his collarbone. "You already do so much for me, Taehyung...I just...I-I feel bad." You failed to notice how rigid he became then, how his eyebrows dipped with evident frustration. "Y/n, you know that—"

Click!

Before you even realize it, you and Taehyung are off each other. When the blue, paint-scraped door opens, sleeked shoes and lively banter are welcomed by two students, diminishing with a glance at the both of you. "Ah, Mr. Kim, there you are! I was looking all over for you. What are you doing here?" A girl's eyes shift from you to the chestnut haired man. Taehyung easy recollects himself as he pats your shoulder, wearing a professional grin. "I stumbled into y/n here, was just giving her some advice but we’ve finished. What did you need me for?”

"Oh...well, about finals week..." You almost let out a sigh of relief as they continued their conversation, but your breath is instantly caught in your throat when your gaze flickers to the boy right next to her.

You were too startled by the sudden interruption that you haven’t completely processed his presence. You almost wish you hadn’t though, now that his doe, big brown eyes mirror your own.

Jungkook was unmoving, and you could've guessed he was conflicted—whether to say hi or to stay silent. Even if you were in the same grade, it was rare to see his face among the carbon copied uniforms. Class C—1 and C—4 were the furthest from each other, and with being the student council event coordinator, you were either neck deep in documents or tucked in the seclusions of the rooftop.

But due to the proud morning announcements and the hushed whispers of admiration, Jungkook never really strayed too far from your orbit. Referred to as the school's golden boy, Jungkook was loved by everyone. He was friends with members from the fashion department to the swim team to the gardening club—Hell, even the occult club. Teachers and students alike wore lenses of adoration for their school’s pride and joy while you tried your best to look away. He may have been in your orbit, but you were two different worlds, encapsulated by the universe but separated by light years of meteors and stars. Jungkook was a nameless planet to you, as you were to him. You never brought yourself to think about it—never had the time for anyway, so seeing him there, floating with the drifting clouds, even you felt a tad bit shaken.

“—kook...Jungkook, hey, Jungkook! I’m gonna go get my assignment with Mr. Kim. Come with?” He blinks profusely, averting his attention from you to the girl wearing raised brows. “Uh, no thank you. Breaks gonna end soon anyways, I think I’ll stay up here. See you after school though?”

“After school,” she clicks her tongue, waving before disappearing down the stairs. Taehyung lingers for a second longer, his eyes flickering to you. “Well I’ll see you next period, Jeon. Bye, y/n." With that, the door shuts behind them, welcoming an air of awkward silence.

Jungkook is the first to clear his throat, “hi, its been awhile," his earrings dangled with his every nervous movement, and you wondered when he'd gotten all his piercings. "Y-Yeah, its been awhile..." you repeat densely as you watch him take the spot Taehyung left, respecting a distance but not standing too far away. He rests his forearms on the metal railing, his elbow barely brushing yours. “Do you usually come up here?"

"Only during lunch."

He hums, "that explains why I never see you."

You frown, both in curiosity and confusion. "You look for me?"

“I-I don’t!” He sputters too quickly. “I just...its just an observation. We’re in the same year after all, and you’re never with the rest of the student council members.” Your brows raise in amusement, “that's surprising.”

“What is?”

“I didn’t think you remembered my name—honestly didn’t think you even remembered I existed.”

“Of course I remember,” he chuckles, “we’ve been friends for 17 years. How could I forget?”

“14 years,” you reminded softly, “we’ve been friends for 14 years.”

A star in Jungkook’s eyes must have died out when you smiled sadly at him. “Oh...right...” he rubs the nape of his neck, sighing. “This is strange, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you agree, “strange.” And there it is again. Spring’s momentary silence. You watch as the sun slowly disappears behind sailing clouds. Talking to Jungkook, being alone next to him, was maybe even a little bit uncomfortable. After all, you guys had so much history—where do those film rolls of sun seeped memories go? It was as if they floated all around you, tying your fingers together like the red string of fate. After all those years of suppressing them, it was intoxicating, adamant to be remembered.

“This reminds me of middle school,” Jungkook brings your head back from the sky. “In 5th grade, the highest we could go was at the top of the garden shed. We spent all our breaks there, staring at clouds, complaining about Mr. Lim being too grouchy, or wondering where we'd go after school—what ice cream flavor we’d get at the convenience store. Do you remember?”

"Of course I do," despite yourself, your heart softens to the recollection. It was your secret hiding spot, blocked by the slant of the roof and the trees barricading the other side. The sky, wind, and Jungkook had been your only escape from the problem solving in math and the problem solving you had to do on your own when you were 10, wondering what the budget for that week's grocery would be. “We thought we were so cool, that we were on top of the world.”

“Correction, you thought you were so cool. You even promised to show me your own space ship, remember?”

“God, please don’t,” you groan, covering your face with your palms. You knew exactly where this was going, and you guessed Jungkook still knew exactly how to embarrass you. “You told me you were a space—“

“—adventurer!” You beamed a toothy grin, two hands proudly on your hips. Jungkook looked up at you with sparkling eyes, pupils as large as beloved full moons. “You mean...an astronaut?”

Your smile immediately drops into a disappointed frown. You demanded upmost reverence, so you didn’t really appreciate it when he questioned you. “No, no. Not an astronaut. A space adventure. s-p-a-c-e a-d-v-e-n-c-h-u-r-r. Gosh, Kookie. If you want me to bring you along in my journeys, you have to keep up.” Jungkook only nodded, trying his best to stifle a chuckle. He won the 3rd grade spelling bee, so he was at least 85% confident the word adventurer didn't have a 'ch' in it.

He decided to let it go though. He knew—the same way he knew that you’d certainly cry if he corrected you—that you were afraid of heights. If it took weeks to encourage you to finally climb a roof, he was the certain you wouldn’t be able to handle the height of the galaxy. But then again, he always had a soft spot for you. “I’m building a space ship right now actually! Its called the Bon Voyage. When it's finished, I’m going to Pluto. You won’t believe how big space is. There are strawberries there!"

Jungkook’s eyes widened at your silly declaration, and even then, he felt sad. He knew that being a space adventurer—being able to maneuver gravity and time on your own whims—was only an innocent imagination of escapism, but still. Every single time you’d flinch when a hand was brought up near you, every time you’d pull on your jacket despite it being hot, he wished your imagination could be real. Wished he could make it real for you—keep you safe from earth and all your troubles.

“I’d like to see the strawberries.. with you,” Jungkook smiled softly. You grinned, and it was the most precious thing Jungkook saw as you stuck your pinky finger out. “Then it’s settled, I’m taking you with me.”

“To pluto?” He wrapped his small finger with yours, and you sealed it with your thumbs pressed against each other's. “To pluto!”

Jungkook was in a fit of laughter, and despite burying your face further into your hands, you couldn't help but smile. “I can’t believe you knew I was lying. God, I must’ve looked like a total idiot.” His elbows were pressed against yours now, sending a surge of warmth to your heart at the familiar skin ship. Jungkook must have not noticed, for he only kept giggling, and you certainly wouldn't bring it up. “It was cute, really. The strawberries and everything. It was really cute.”

"Whatever, Jungkook," you rolled your eyes, and uncovering your eyes, you looked at him. Truly looked at him this time. His smooth, unwrinkled uniform. His hair that grew over time, kissing past his eyelashes and swaying with the wind. The tiny mole peeking under his bottom lip, the familiar scrunch of his nose as he grinned widely. The speckled brown of his eyes were so warm, almost dreamlike against the golden sun. Under long years of an uncalled contact, of an untouched hand, of a voiceless wonder—‘how have you been?’ ‘what was on your mind today?’—you saw the Jungkook you once knew, your dearest friend. And with his smile, you found your heart aching and full at the same time.

ringggggg!

The alarm jolts the both of you, severing spring’s heartbeat as loud chatter and footsteps disrupt the moment from open windows.

You only stare at each other for a brief second before you give a half smile, “that's the bell, we should go.” Without waiting for an answer, you followed the pace of the rest of school, but before you could take a step down the staircase, Jungkook takes your hand. His grip isn’t tight or rough. Its gentle, reluctant. You turn around, and the sun is behind him, kissing the back of his head with its golden, stray flakes.

"What is it?" You furrowed your brows. “I...its just..." It takes a moment before Jungkook speaks, cheeks tinged with a faint red. "Y/n I, I miss—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt in masked panic, averting your eyes as you pulled your hand back. In truth, you were scared. Finals week would be soon and you didn’t think you could handle any more mental strain than you already had, especially not with him. “I-I think we’re going to be late.” Jungkook eyes widen for a second, stricken with dejection. He mumbles, “right...”

You don’t dare to look at him, turning away, you say, “it was nice talking to you again. Bye, Jungkook.”

ACT 2. | DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR

The second time you see Jungkook again, the spring showers are sharp against your skin. You had just gotten off from your 6 hour shift, and where the sunset hues of timid pink and vibrant yellow were supposed to be, the overcast sky was instead. It's been about 30 minutes since you clocked off, but you knew your dad was home, so you decided to take the long way back.

It didn't matter that you were a blur of blue walking in grey tainted streets. Didn’t matter that the downpour soaked your clothes or that cars occasionally splashed you with murky road puddles. You could be anywhere, and anywhere would be better than where your dad was.

Droplets drooped down your eyelashes, dribbling down onto your phone. It’s screen illuminated your color drained face. You stared at Taehyung’s contact, biting your lip nervously.

YOU :

hey taehyung, can i come over? if that's possible of course|

hey taehyung, can i come over? i|

hey taehy/

.../

i need you|

Your thumb hovered over the tempting, blue send button. Press it, Y/n. Just press it. (But would he mind?) He said it was okay to ask for help. (But... what if he's busy right now?) It's okay to ask. (You'd just be bothering him. If you're too needy, he'll push you away, you know that.) Just press the damned—

“Y/n!” A hand reaches your back, and although it was a mere brush, you yelp in alarm, instantly stumbling back. When you're sure you're about to be submerged into a puddle, a hand firmly grasps your forearm, steadying you as the said person pulls you closer to them. The rain stops—or rather, patters against an umbrella now hovering over you. Your eyes flutter from the hand holding you to the hand holding the umbrella handle, and lastly, the holder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungkook half laughs. When you don’t reply, your mouth only agape, he adds, “are you okay?” It takes you a moment before you nod. You were close, as close two people could be under a small umbrella (or was it because Jungkook has gotten really big?), so you take a step back. But before you could feel even one raindrop on your face again, Jungkook pulls you back into him, “I don’t want you getting sick, y/n.”

“I’m already soaked anyways,” you frown, but he only disregards you. “Where are you heading?”

“Nowhere.”

When his brows threatened to crease, you add, “Got off work a few minutes ago, I was just taking a stroll.” Jungkook opened his mouth, and you were sure he was going to say something in the lines of, “in the rain? have you gone mad?” But to your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers intertwine with yours. “My homes not far. Come with me?”

"Your...home?” You repeat dumbly, disregarding how warm his hand was—how you missed it, how right it felt in yours. “Yeah, if thats okay with you. If not, then mind if I walked with you?” You pause, taking in Jungkook’s attire. What he was doing in a button down, black trousers, and sleek shoes, you didn’t know—but his dry state save for the few droplets on his clothes meant that he'd much rather prefer to be under a roof. You weren’t sure if he was going to take no for an answer, and being under shelter did sound pleasant. At least, more pleasant than being in wet socks. “Okay,” you say, “take me home.”

When you arrive, you're relieved to discover Mr. and Mrs. Jeon are on a business trip. You missed the Jeons, truly—they were the only family you’ve ever known, but you didn’t think you were ready to see them again.

You remembered Jungkook’s house being an absolute palace when you were a child—modernized with elegance adorned with a scenic garden and a clean landscape—but it still didn’t fail to leave your jaw agape. Expansive was always an understatement. “Here, get changed,” Jungkook hands a towel, an oversized sweater and sweatpants, and of course, fuzzy socks. You only nodded as he led you through the familiar halls to his room. “Just call for me when you’re done, kay?”

“Mm,” you mumbled, still in a daze even after he left. Bittersweet nostalgia filled your nostrils with the scent of vanilla and almonds, a soy candle he still apparently loves. It's only been three years since you’ve last set foot on his grey, hardwood floors, but you still noticed the subtle changes. Instead of pokemon action figures—burnished, golden trophies filled his glass shelves. They were only a few Jungkook was really proud of, otherwise his room would be brimmed with his accomplishments.

Picture perfect polaroids capturing euphoric memories and cheerful grins scattered Jungkook's walls. A refined stereo set replaced the bright blue boom box of your childhood, the one covered with doraemon stickers and scratches. Memories of 4th grades' January flooded your mind, when the blandness of the month was disrupted with color as the two of you jammed to Ego by JHOPE on repeat. Jungkook may have added and taken a few things out, but you found anchor in what stayed the same. His plants that hung from the ceiling were still there, ivies draped with growth over the past years. Kim Namjoon, Jungkook’s long time idol, smiled from a framed poster on his wall. Everything was still polished with his neatness, a habit you had always commended him for.

As you dried your damp hair, a photo frame catches your eye, sitting on the side of his bookshelf. Your breath catches in your throat. You slowly walk to the dainty item, painted white and blue to resemble noon skies. In the corner of the frame ignited a bright, pale limerence. Sparks of vivid blue and tangerine whipped through the wooden confines. You felt your heart thump against your chest. It was a—

"Daytime shooting star!" You gleamed, holding a paint brush into the sky, the handle rough from years of dried paint. It was a hot summer day, a few weeks after the end of seventh grade. Cicadas sung adamant songs through Jungkook's cracked open window as the two of you sat on his floor, blanketed with a fuzzy iron man carpet.

He looked at you quizzically, "a daytime shooting star?" As far as Jungkook knew, there was no such thing. "Yeah," you chirp. "That's you, Kook. You're my daytime shooting star." Jungkook nearly dropped his paint brush then, risking his favorite carpet as he looked at you, wide eyed with stun. You were wearing his t-shirt as per usual, your face smudged with blue paint and an innocent smile. Jungkook hated you for it.

It was always your choice of words—my Jungkook, my Kook, my Kookie, and now, my daytime shooting star—that he swore would be the death of him every single time. He didn't even know what you meant, but he didn't care, because being called yours was enough to kill him.

"Th-Thats stupid," he mumbled as he looked away, a futile attempt to hide his burning cheeks. "That doesn't even make sense." When the air shifted to silence, Jungkook immediately regretted his words. He quickly turned back around, fearing he accidentally hurt your feelings due to his own fluster. Maybe that was when Jungkook realized you really had grown up since the 6th grade, because this time, tears didn't drip down your cheeks. Instead, your eyes were curious and doe as you tilted your head to your side. "Does it matter?"

"What?

“A lot of things don’t make sense, but does it have to matter?” You frowned.

“I-I don’t—”

“I like you a lot, Kook,” and though you weren't at the least bit shy saying so, Jungkook’s emotions exploded everywhere. “I don’t think you need reasons to like someone, but you’re my daytime shooting star, Kook, and that's my reason. Can't I just like you? Does it...does it have to make sense?”

It felt like light years as Jungkook stared, red as he looked into the golden specks of your eyes, glinting from the blazing sun. “I-I don't know,” he gulped, his voice small. He was going to leave it at that at first. He didn't know what to say—what he could say. His mind was as clumsy and berserk as a deflating balloon to your previous words, but when he saw your sullen eyes and mopey pout, he felt an inadvertent panic in his gut.

His eyes shifted to his boom box. Etched on the side of the speaker was Doraemon, giving him a childish wink and thumbs up. Jungkook groaned in annoyance and you looked up, curious as he scratched the back of his head. "M-maybe we could...see it," he mumbled, barely grumbling, but your heart leapt with every syllable of his words. "Someday, together. The—"

“Daytime shooting star.”

You jumped, instantly whirling around to see Jungkook leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his torso. His eyes were soft, as if his gaze itself caressed you. “Y-You...” your thumb grazed the flimsy wood. “You still have this.”

“Yeah, and I still don’t have a photo,” he chuckled, making his way towards you. “14 years of friendship and you’d think we’d finally have a perfect picture to put in the frame.” It was pretty silly now that you thought about it. Despite spending a whole summer’s day decorating the item with childlike ambivalence, you never allowed Jungkook to slide a photo in it. No, it couldn’t just be any glossy photograph. You fussed over the concept of a perfect portrait, but nothing ever satisfied you enough, and with each passing year, it must've slipped your mind.

“I don’t get it... We haven’t talked for like, three years, and you still have this?”

"Does it have to make sense that I did?” Jungkook tilted his head, his eyelids lowering to look down at you. You open your mouth to reprimand him for using your words against you, but no words come out. Fuck. You swear it was his eyes—you’ve always said they were full of magic when you were children. It must’ve been that damned spellbinding luster that stole your voice. “What did you mean?” Jungkook takes a tentative step forward.

“Huh?” It came out like a breath.

Maybe it was the dim incandescence of the room, complementing the silhouette of his sculpted physique. Maybe it was the fact that the cloth he wore seemed too thin, too tense around his biceps and broad shoulders. Maybe it was because his first three buttons were left unclasped, teasing the faint outline of his chest. Or maybe it was the fact that you were so used to being in eye level with him—hell, looking down at him in the earlier points of your life. But you realized then, as Jungkook stared at you with a glint you couldn’t seem to quite recognize, how small you felt in front of him. Under him.

“When you said I was your daytime shooting star. You never explained it to me, what you meant,” Jungkook takes one final step forward, and the distance between you is insignificant. You don’t move—didn’t even think you could with your back pressed against his bookshelf. You could only return his gaze, doe eyes wavering beneath his. “What I meant to you...what I still mean to you.”

Your breath hitches, “Kook...”

“Fuck, I missed that,” his voice is low, breathless as his fingers brush your cheeks. “So fucking much, Y/n. I missed you calling my name, whatever you say. Kook, Kookie, Jungkook—I don’t care, just missed your voice, I still do. Don’t you know? Everyday, how much I long for you?”

Your eyes widen at his assertion. Wherever this was coming from, you didn't have the heart to stop it. "J-Jung—"

“—I miss you, Y/n. Any time I'm not around you it hurts and every time I am it hurts even worse.” His voice is so gentle, you fear he could hear the rhythm of your heart beat, palpitating with the heavy raindrops against his window.

“Why....why did you push me away?”

The waves were restless that cold, autumn night—you saw it through the fogged window of the train. Exhaustion tugged your eyes and your muscles screamed with every movement. As the train tracks rumbled beneath you, you wondered if you were even alive anymore, at least, it didn’t feel like it. All that was certain to you was the midnight stars outside, following you no matter where you went.

You didn’t know when the train entered the station, sighing to a stop as the doors slid open with a loud gush. It was probably 2am—Maybe 3, and the carts didn’t hold people this time around. At least you didn’t think it did, you honestly didn’t have the energy to even think about it. You only wondered how further you could go without knowing exactly how far you already went. Your neck ached from your head hanging low, and if it was cold, you didn’t feel it. All you felt was numb. An aching, dull pain eating away at your heart.

It was when you heard rushed heaves and loud footsteps that your eyes widened to see a familiar pair of green converse stop in front of you. You lift up your head to see Jungkook, cheeks red either from crying or the cold, maybe both. His brows were deeply furrowed as he crouched down, his hands gripping your shoulders.

“C-Can you hear me, Y/n? Are—are you okay?” You only nodded. He felt like a mirage, a dream.

You didn’t know what he saw in you that caused the droplets of sorrow to drip from his eye—whether it was the bruises covering your body, or the deep eye bags from restless nights at work—but it made you sad, how he looked at you. You wished he’d stopped. You wished you could be so far away that he didn’t have to look at you anymore.

“You’re, fuck, you’re freezing,” Jungkook quickly pulls his coat off and swathes it around you. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry I didn’t get here earlier.�� You shook your head, your dull headache being replaced with confusion. “Why are you even apologizing, Kook? H-How did you even find me? Why are you even here?” You had turned off your cell the whole day and gave no indication to where you’d be. You didn’t even tell Jungkook how you were feeling, it made no sense to see him there, holding you.

“We’re soulmates remember? Of course I’d know,” Jungkook tries his best to give a smile. “I’m here because you are. Just—look, lets get you out of here first okay?” Before you can tell him you can walk by yourself, he lifts you up, taking your hand as he leads you out. “The next train back to Seoul arrives in 8 minutes,” Even when Jungkook and you sit down on a bench, he doesn’t let go. He’s shaking, you realize, with his fingers intertwined with yours. It was as if he wanted to hold you tighter, but he was afraid. Afraid of what? Afraid of hurting you? Or afraid of you hurting him if you slip out of his grasp any further?

“How did you know?” You begin again. “I told you I was sick, I called the school too. A-and how did you even know where I was?”

“You called in sick for three days Y/n,” he frowns, “and you haven’t texted me once. I was so worried, fuck, I was so fucking worried when I went to your house to see that you weren't there. All my calls went straight to voice mail, and I saw...I-I saw the shattered beer bottles, the blood. I-I panicked, even thought of calling the police,” when your face goes rigid, he assures you, “of course I wouldn’t though, I would never do that you. But anyway, it took me awhile to guess, and I wasn’t even sure—just started running. I imagined you’d definitely be in a space ship to Pluto right about now, but I took a risky bet on the train station. You know, being much more accessible to us and all.” When Jungkook finishes light heartedly, you give a dry laugh, “you know me so well, Koo."

His small grin falls shortly as silence does, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb on your hand. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet, sad, “You always...you always said you’d bring me. We’re a team aren’t we? You and me, I-I thought...I would’ve been there, Y/n. You know I'd be there for you in a heartbeat. Don't you trust me?”

"Of course I trust you, Kook," you quickly assure him through your thin veil of tears. It hurt too much to know you were the reason for the crack in his voice, for the ache in his heart, for his glazed eyes. You couldn't stand his pity, but you couldn't stand being the source of his grief either. "Then why didn't you call me..? All I ever wanted was to be there for you, all I ever want is to be by your side, y/n. Why won't you just let me help you?”

“Because you don’t understand, Kook,” you croak. “You don't understand how hard it is for me—how hard it's always been. It'll only ever always be like this, and I-I can't just...fuck Kook, I can't just depend on you every time I get hurt. My problems are for me to sort out, I have no one but myself.”

“But you have me, y/n," the tears you fought so hard to hold back falls when Jungkook covers both your cheeks with his hands. The boy inhales sharply, trying to calm himself from crying any longer as he presses his forehead against yours. "It hurts me so much when you talk like that, y/n. You have me, you always have me. A-and it scares me because sometimes it just feels like I don't have you, that I never did and—"

"Jung—"

"You’ve been so distant lately," his breath is shaky and hot against your skin. "....It feels like you’re going to leave me. Please, don’t. Don't leave me behind like this, y/n.” You don't say anything else, too overwhelmed with his heartache beating with yours. In that cold autumn night, all you could do was cry in his arms.

The train arrives shortly.

“Lets go home," Jungkook murmurs sweetly against your skin. He kisses your forehead softly, and when he does, it feels like you already are home.

“Come here,” he grins, standing up with his hand out. You take it. “Have you eaten yet? I can make us food when we get back. What would you like?”

“Honestly? Just ramen.” Jungkook groans as you step inside the desolate train cart. “You know I could cook something way better for us."

"Nothing is better than ramen with eggs, Kook," you chide, giggling when Jungkook rolls his eyes. You take your hand away from him, and Jungkook tenses, only to relax when you cup his cheek once more. “But seriously, thank you, Jungkook. For everything. For worrying, being here for me, for finding me." He smiles, his eyes like crescent moons luminescent with love as he looks down at you, "always.”

"You said you'd do anything for me right?”

“Of course, anything, y/n.”

“Then please stop after this," you keep your small smile even as Jungkook's brows furrowed with confusion. You said it so simply, so plainly that he thought he might have heard you wrong. "What do you...?"

“Nothing will change after this. Nothing. I can't escape from my life, I can't escape from debt or my dad no matter how hard I try—and being the cause of your anxiety won't help me. I don't need a savior, and I don't think you need me holding you back either. We're burdening each other Kook.” With a heavy gush, the train doors start sliding shut and before Jungkook can even comprehend your words, you step out. “Don't have worry about me anymore, okay?”

“W-Wait— y/n—!” He’s quick to run, but it's too late. The doors slide shut, finally severing the thin red string of fate that held the two of you.

The rain falls with your tears as you cry into your hands, guilt washing over you like tidal waves. You remember his face the most, how heartbreak and betrayal etched with the dying fade of his smile. How you left him that day, how you left him everyday after that.

“I-I was just so tired, so tired of everything. I... I'm so sorry I pushed you away. I just didn't want you to worry about me anymore. You were always so good, everything about you, and I was scared I was holding you back and...and it hurt too much to stay knowing I was." Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist as his other hand gently pulled your head to his body. You're too stunned to move, but when you gather yourself, you decide you don't want to. You just cry, burying your face into his chest, your hands tightening around his shirt.

"I never once stopped thinking about you, y/n," he mumbled into your hair. "I never once not worried, never once not looked for you, and you—god, y/n—you never once held me back. Silly girl, don’t you know you were the only one who kept me together?” Jungkook lets out a noise, somewhere in between a sigh and a groan as he lowers his head onto your shoulder, "I did everything, anything to keep myself distracted from you. Competitions, sports, art, studies, friends.” His soft hair tickled your jaw as he nuzzled closer into the crook of your neck. “But I couldn’t, y/n, it was always you, it was never not you. Do you know how torn I was, watching you and not being able to talk to you? To hold you, be afraid of losing you even more than I already had?"

The pitter-pattering of the rain against the rooftop fills the voice you can’t seem to conjure. "Did you ever miss me?” Jungkook pulls away, and your eyes lock with his under the blue world. You realize then, by looking at him, just how scared he was. If you pushed him away again, he didn’t know what he’d do.

Reluctantly, you bring your hand to sweep Jungkook's tousled bangs away, brushing your fingers against the shell of his ear. "I did," you whisper, and more clearly, "I-I did, of course I did.” When Jungkook doesn't respond, your hand trails down his neck ... to his shoulders ... to his chest. "Do you hate me?"

Jungkook inhales sharply, "N-no." He could never.

"Your heart is beating so fast.... are you afraid?"

"I am."

"I am too," you lift his hand and place it against your own chest, laying it atop your own heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump, you don’t catch the pink of his cheeks when you’re too busy staring at the sad stars in his eyes. "I was too, back then. I know it's selfish, and i-i'm sorry I hurt you, but I hope you understand what kind of position I was in. I was so young, so scared—I just wanted to be alone, felt like it was a way to protect myself from anything else that could hurt me. I’m different now, I think, more stable—whatever that is," you chuckle dryly. "I can’t promise I won’t push you away, but I won’t leave anymore, really, s-so...."

Jungkook's eyes soften, his lids lowering when you say, "Can you trust me?"

"Of course," Jungkook breathes, “always.”

ACT III. | EPIPHANY

"Just go to sleep already, Jeon."

You've been repeating yourself for the past 3 hours, watching him restlessly saunter around his room. "...swear i’m missing something, I just don't know what..." Jungkook, like the countless of other times, dismissed you as he continued to tap his finger on his chin, mumbling to himself in intense focus. It was only when you’ve finally had enough, groaning and hurling a tissue box at him—which he instantly caught with ease—that he finally noticed your glare. "What was that for?"

"I said just go to sleep already!" You exhaled frustratedly, "you packed your whole room at this point, Kook. I swear you have, like, triple of everything you don't even need—so for the thousandth time, could you please just shut the lights?" It's been a few weeks since that one spring evening, and time started ticking again with Jungkook by your side. It took you awhile to adjust to his company, it was odd—but everything was odd at this point. Odd but comforting when Jungkook started visiting the rooftop every lunch, odd but reassuring when he'd pick you up after every shift, and odd but exciting to spend the night with him before the anticipated field trip to Jeju island. The four days were a granted escape before the tumultuous finals of the upcoming winter. Even you were a bit eager to go, having finally taken a justified leave off work.

"Fine, fine, but if I do end up forgetting something important, I blame you," Jungkook huffs, sauntering to the light switch. “Go ahead,” you roll your eyes, and with a small click!, a satisfied sigh escapes your lips. “Finally,” You snuggled into his pillows, but when the bed dips down right next to you, you realized you had forgotten to ask Jungkook to shut his mouth as well. "Will you sit next to me on the way there?" You squinted to the darkness, raising your brows at the silhouette of his figure. "Jungkook, you're literally my only friend, do you even need to ask?" He chuckled, "but will you? We don't have to sit with my friends if you don't want to."

You hummed, thinking as Jungkook carefully brushed loose strands of hair away from your face, the warmth of his fingers trailing down the side of your neck. You were reluctant about being seen with Jungkook at first, but the choice wasn't left to you when his friends spotted you and him at the library sometime ago. It honestly wasn't as bad as you expected, and more surprisingly, you even clicked with a few with them. Seokjin was one you gravitated to the most, being a truly funny and charming senior that you felt you could look up to. "No, it's fine. I like your friends." Jungkook’s head perked up, and the darkness captures the bright twinkle in his eyes. "Really, you do?" You smile, knowing how happy that must have made him. "Really, I do. Now can we please go to sleep? I'd like to be at least remotely awake for the first day."

“Okay, okay, grumpy head," a bunny like grin appears on his face as pinches your cheek, chuckling when you only grumble in return.

He strokes your hair down one last time before placing a kiss on your forehead. “Good night, y/n.”

"Good night, Kook," the reassuring warmth of his skin leaves yours, and you hear him shuffle in his own mattress on the floor. It's been awhile since you've felt like this, so safe. Though it didn't necessarily matter, being with Jungkook was different with Taehyung, you noticed. When it came to Taehyung, it was as if all your problems could dissipate with his touch. That for a moment, they could just disappear.

When it came to Jungkook, though, your problems were still there. They existed, they were real, and yet, when you with him, it felt like everything would be okay. He was like a breath fresh air, and you felt like you could get through anything—whatever it may be, as long as he was there. With that thought, you slowly, but surely, drifted to sleep.

ringgggg!! ringgg!!! ringggg!!

What happened afterwards came in fragments of fuzzy memories, distorted with exhaustion. It was the phone ringing first, then it was the shuffle of Jungkook rising from his mattress. The ringing, his heavy yawn, the ringing, groggy footsteps, the ringing, the clatter of the drawer—and finally, silence. "Y/n...?" His voice barely reached where your mind was, deep inside the depths of whatever dream dimension you were in. "Y/n," he said again. No reply. "Y/n... Y/n!"

"What?!" You groaned, lazily sitting up with a snarl and a bed head. The ringing starts again and you rub your eyes to where your phone screen illuminated Jungkook's face. "What is it?" You mumble, a little concerned to his expression. "God, is it Mrs. Joomi again? I just paid this month’s rent like a few d—"

"Mr. Kim."

You freeze. The two, single words are akin to iced buckets of water being splashed onto your face, instantly waking you up.

"Taehyung with a heart and moon emoji—but that's Mr. Kim, isn't it? In that photo? That's his first name." Your heart lurches forward. 태형☽<3, displaying a low quality photo of him that you secretly took while he was preparing breakfast. It was once a happy morning, and this was once a happy night—disrupted by its forbidden rays of joy.

When Jungkook finally looks at you through the stark darkness, you can only stare back, your heartbeats filling the silent stun of your dry throat. The bubbly melody stops, and when you don't say anything, Jungkook's voice grows louder, "Y/n what—what the hell is this? Why is Mr. Kim calling you at 3am? Why do you have a photo of him? Why is his contact—"

"J-Jungkook," You nervously moved to sit on the front edge of the bed, attempting to speak as calmly as you can. Jungkook would understand...right? He wouldn't tell, he couldn't. He knows you, your financial situation. It was okay. "Remember when you asked me not to push you away? Well, this is me letting you in. This is me trusting you Jungkook, so please just hear me out." Under the moonlight's glower, you see the bob of his adam's apple rise and fall. "Taehyung, he—"

"Taehyung?" You wince, the acidity of his voice like bitter poison. "I-I mean, Mr. Kim. M-Mr. Kim, he...helps me."

"Helps you?" Jungkook scoffs. "At 3am? How could he—" Suddenly, Jungkook's eyes go wide. "Y/n, you don't mean..."

You nod stiffly, "he gives me money in exchange for....i-its consensual! He helps me," your cheeks heat up, hating yourself for allowing this to happen, having to explain yourself. “A-anyway the point is, you won't tell anyone, right? You understand, don't you, Kook?"

"Understand?! Y/n—he’s a teacher! He's seven fucking years older than us—are you stupid, what were you thinking?!" The sting of his words ring in your ears like a harsh slap across your face. Throughout your years together, Jungkook had barely had the heart to scold you, so you were more than unprepared for his hurtful words. Your shock quickly subdues into anger though, and you stand up, “what I was thinking? What I was thinking?! I don't know Kook, maybe thinking about my fucking electric bill! Thinking about how to pay off debt—how to buy food for fuck's sake! I've looked after myself my whole life, and this is no different."

"Still—This is wrong, y/n! You know that! There are other ways like, like—"

"Like what Jungkook?!" You're in front of him now, pushing at his chest. "Working my ass off in nine to fives? Well I do that, Kook, every fucking day and yeah, a fucking disappointment for me too that it's not enough. You could never know how its like for me, but out of everyone, you're supposed to...! You’re supposed to understand,” you chuckle bitterly, shaking your head as a futile attempt to shake the hot tears away.

"Y/n...” Jungkook’s anger diminishes into a frustrated panic. He tries to reach for you, hold you, anything to keep you from crying because of him—but you turn away, and despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He sighs harshly, his voice much softer now, “I just—out of all these years, you could've asked me. I was always there, y/n, and you never accepted me. I know we talked about this already, but the fact that...” He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I do understand, but I was always here. I was your best friend, why did you have to go to him? Am I...am I that unreliable to you?"

Your own heart sinks for him this time, quickly shaking your head. “No, Kook. I-It's not like that. I'm sorry this has to be so complicated, that i've made you feel small. You are reliable, Jungkook. You're my safe place, my person—always have been. I appreciated you so much but you need to understand how terrible it felt for me back then. I hated being pitied by you. You’re my friend, not a fucking philanthropist."

Jungkook takes your hand this time, "I never wanted to help you because I pitied you, y/n. You were always so strong, I don't think you could ever be someone I could pity. I wanted to help because I cared for you, loved you, and it breaks my heart knowing that you went through such lengths when you could've turned to me."

You sigh, threading your hands over the back of his hair. "It was all just circumstantial, Kook. Taehyung found me at a really low point in my life. I didn't search for it, but he was there and i’m thankful for yim, so please Jungkook, please." Your eyes wavered beneath his sad stare, hoping, pleading. Jungkook bites on his lip, cursing, "look...I won't tell on you if that's what you're thinking. I would never do that to you, i'm just worried. He's calling you at nearly 4am, y/n—shit, h-has he hurt you? Did he ever make you do anything you didn't want to?" Jungkook looks frantic for a second, but you quickly shake your head. "N-no! No, god no, he's never hurt me! You know him Kook, Tae would never hurt me." You miss how you even said Tae or how Jungkook's jaw clenched to it.

"I won't say anything, y/n, at least...not yet. You have to end it."

"W-What?"

"He took advantage of you in a low position in your life, y/n."

"N-No Kook, you don't understand!"

"It's not your fault, y/n, it's completely his. He's the adult here, it was wrong. You have to end this."

"But I can't! The money, Kook, you know I can't."

"Then let me help you," he steps closer. Your hands slide to his chest now, shaking your head. "No, Jungkook, my answer has been no and its still no. I refuse to be your charity case," you scoff. "Then you're not going to be. I'll pay you to sleep with me too."

Your eyes instantly shoot open. What..?

"I'll pay you to sleep with me," he repeats calmly. "Anytime you need it, anytime I want it, and I'm certain I'll be able to give you more than whatever Mr. Kim could." Your mouth only hangs open, words dying in your dry throat.

"What's wrong?" Jungkook asks, taking a step closer. This time, you take a step back. "If you were fine with doing it with Mr. Kim, shouldn't it be fine with me?"

"N-No," your voice is barely a shaky whisper. More clearly, "No, Jungkook. I can't just—we just started talking again. You're my only friend, I won't ruin us just for—"

"I won't let anything happen to us, I promise y/n."

"B-but—"

"You don't have to worry about it, okay? Plus, isn't this situation more ideal? You'd get paid more and you wouldn't have to rely on—"

"I love him!"

Its Jungkook's turn to be silent. "What..?"

"I love him Kook," you croak, heat overwhelming your cheeks.

"Y/n..."

"I know it's wrong, I know he seems like an asshole but he's not. I know him, Kook, and i’m mature enough to know myself too. I made my decision back then, and I keep making it today because...I love him." You can’t help but feel your anguish trickle down your eyes, and you cry into your hands. That’s it then. It’s done. You’ve finally admitted it, yet despite the burden of the untold truth lifting—you felt heavier, worse. By now, Jungkook would’ve pulled you into a warm embrace. He’d hush you with soothing murmurs and delicate kisses on your forehead. He’d trail his fingers through your hair, tell you that he knew, that he gets it, that it was okay. But he doesn’t. He couldn’t. You were crying for another man, and all he could feel was ache.

Your phone rings once more, and from the night stand, you see Taehyung’s figure on the dimmed screen. You reluctantly look at Jungkook, but when he doesn’t say anything, his expression unreadable, you take it. "H-hello?"

"Hey, doll," Taehyung's voice is low. "I’m sorry I keep calling, I feel really shit for waking you up at this time. I know the Jeju trip is in a few hours, but I just needed to talk to you."

"No, no, its fine. I was already awake anyways, um...what is it?" You turned away from Jungkook, nervously biting on your lip. Despite everything that had unfolded between the two of you, it was strange. Taehyung never called you at this time after all—and him saying you guys needed to talk only heightened your nerves.

"It's better to talk in person. Where are you? I can pick you up." You shake your head, despite not him being able to see you. "N-No, i’ll come over...is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course, I'll see you soon." With that, the call ends. You can feel Jungkook’s eyes on your back—its overwhelming, and you’re scared to face the definite disgust and judgement in his them, so you don’t look at him when lift your bag across your shoulder. "I’m sorry, I...I need to go.”

ACT IV | LOVE IS NOT OVER

Jungkook hasn't seen you since last night. You never showed up at the meeting spot, never answered his calls or texts—never even once read the 68 of them.

He was certain you came, though—he checked in with Mrs. Yoon before boarding, but you were always good at hiding, and Jungkook was always an impatient seeker. The whole process of arriving, checking into the hotel, and splitting into groups was a whole blur that ended in him never finding you. After spending hours exploring the designated routes through antique shops, cute cafes, pretty sceneries, and meadows with his friends, he started to fear that you didn't come after all—that Mrs. Yoon had made a mistake.

Surely, he would've bumped into you at least once through the whole trip. And where the fuck was Mr. Kim? Jeju was supposed to be the pinnacle of his highschool experience. He’d be elated with the giddiness of being out with his friends, kissed with the gift of delicious freedom. But it was 7:46 PM now, and even when he overlooked the vast beach dipped with sunset's entrancing glow, he felt anything but. Not when Seokjin cracked his lame dad jokes, nor when Eunha got him to bike through scenic trails.

Jungkook sighed as the strawberry milk clattered to the bottom of the vending machine. He spotted it tucked away from the corner of the museum his group wandered into. He excused himself, relieved that their chaperone actually trusted him to be by himself. He needed the space.

He poked the straw through the carton, leaning against the cold metal as his eyes gazed over the glistening waves. He hated you. Always leaving him like this, always making him restless and unsure.

It was when he looked for the moon in the dusk sky that he noticed a familiar silhouette amidst the shore. It wavered with the wind, and Jungkook instantly felt his scorn. The man's jeweled hand was holding a cigarette between two fingers, overlooking the ocean with distant eyes.

Fuck the sand, fuck his expensive shoes, fuck everything. Jungkook doesn't know when he starts running, but he doesn't stop.

It all happened so past—the sun would have missed it if not for the perfect view she had just over the excited ripples of the ocean. When Taehyung noticed his presence, it was already too late. Jungkook had grabbed his collar, and without a second of hesitance, punched him across his face. Taehyung fell into the sand with a grunt, cursing loudly. “What the fuck?!” He turned to his perpetrator, his glare quickly diminishing into pure shock to see his own student right in front of him, eyes poisoned with resentment and hatred.

Taehyung's emotions came whirling at him all at once. The confusion, then the anger, the urge to scream at him and punch him until he was left bleeding on the shore—then the mediating side of him, understanding that he'd done more than enough to get his ass fired, why the fuck would he...?—then the realization. He sighs roughly, shaking his head as he stands. He isn't up for long though, as Jungkook takes another swing. Taehyung’s cheeks scream with stinging pain, but Jungkook’s on top of him, and he doesn’t stop.

"You fucking bitch!" Jungkook seethed, barely feeling his fist continuously bury into Taehyung’s face. He knew. He knew how much you loved him, he knew Taehyung helped you. He knew you'd get angry, maybe even hate him for the rest of his life for this—But maybe that's why he couldn't control himself. He didn't care if you thought Taehyung was some angel. To him, Taehyung was just a disgusting predator who took advantage of your situation, and deep down, maybe it was more for a selfish reason. Taehyung was a man who touched you, who had you—who wasn’t him. "You disgusting fuck. Don't ever fucking touch y/n again, you hear me?!" Another hit, but Jungkook is too blinded with anger to realize the scary amount of blood drooling down his nose and lips, from the cuts of his cheeks. "I know," Taehyung rasps.

"If you know then why did you do it?! You’re a fucking creep, you’re disgusting.”

"I know," another hit, and blood stains his shirt. Taehyung curses and grabs Jungkook's fist before he can throw another punch, pushing him into the sand. "You dick, I swear to god, I swear to fucking god I'll fucking kill you." Jungkook thrashes under Taehyung, but the teacher buries both his wrists into the ground, his weight holding the younger boy down.

“Sh-Shit, Look, I know how you must feel about me, and I know I deserve this, but I would much rather avoid being seen like this so I'm going to say this quick and you're going to listen."

"Fuck you," Jungkook growls, glaring at the man on top of him. His eyes were unreadable, almost enigmatic, and Jungkook hated every unwavering speckle of deep brown in it.

"I don't regret it," Taehyung disregards him. "I liked her—y/n—and no matter what you think of me, that stands true. You must like her too, she told me about you some nights. I have to admit, hearing about another boy when she's laying in my own bed wasn't very pleasant for me, but you made her happy. You mean a lot to her," Jungkook shut his eyes tightly, cursing as he tried to get the image of Taehyung holding you in his arms out of his mind. "I know you don't think I care about her, but I do, so just fucking listen for a second okay? I know i'm no good for her, but you aren't either. You're too immature, we both know y/n deserves way more. See where you are now? Right under me when you could be there for her? Have you even seen her today? Have you asked her how she's been?"

"What... what the fuck are you saying."

Taehyung sighs, and stumbles back to stand, wincing as the harsh winds slap his bloodied face. He nimbly looks for his cigarette, and before he lights it, Jungkook grabs his lighter. "I said what the fuck do you mean?!"

"I ended it with her," Taehyung glares at him, his voice firm, cold as he snatches the lighter back. Jungkook feels his heart drop. “You...what?"

There's silence, and when the man turns to look at the sun drowning into the ocean’s abyss, he lights the cigarette, "the fireworks are starting soon." Jungkook's eyes widens. Before he knows it, he's already running.

You’ve always loved the fireworks.

His footsteps that were submerged into sand were now padding against the concrete of the sidewalk, his heart pounding in his ears. A few cars must have honked at him here and there as he ran through the streets, unknowing of his surrounding because all he can think of his getting to his destination—you. He frantically reaches for his phone, panting.

You

JK : where are you?

my love : my room

my love : 613, 7th floor

JK : on my way.

ACT V. | HOLD ME TIGHT

At least the fireworks were pretty.

Your eyelids drooped, puffed with drowsy red as you watched the sparkling scene on the balcony of the hotel. Evening's cold breeze teased your bare legs, dancing with the delicate ends of your black, satin nightgown. You were hugging yourself yourself, leaning against the cold railings as sparks of vivid red shatter into memories tainted with heartbreak. The red silk sheets that you grasped tightly beneath you. The red lingerie that Taehyung slid off your skin. The red wine he poured into the pan when you told him you were hungry. You liked watching him the most, you thought as he stood in front of the stove, his eyes trained on the steak. You liked watching him unbutton his top, talk about his day, how he let out loud laughter whenever a funny story would come up. You loved when he unveiled himself for you, when he'd strip off his enigmatic persona bare and let you peer into his soul.

But that's all you ever did, you guessed, all you ever could do. You watched him when he smiled down at you, his cold fingertips brushing your waist, and you watched him as he left.

It must've been 4 minutes into the firework show when you heard the doorbell ring. Sighing, you leave the balcony as yellow ignites the night sky. You open the door to Jungkook, his chest heaving up and down, his hair tousled by wind, beads of sweat sticking to his neck.

When he doesn't say anything, and neither do you, you step aside to let him in. You wonder if he was still angry about last night, how he'd react when you tell him—but with the way he looked down at you, tender eyes dawned with sadness, you already understand you don’t have to. "I know," Jungkook steps closer, pulling you into a hug. His warmth embraces you as darkness does when the door clicks shut. "What happened, I know."

You sighed, closing your eyes. The fireworks sounded so distant compared to his heartbeat. Jungkook must've ran for you, you thought as your buried your face into his chest. Of course he would, he always has. Maybe that certainty is what intoxicates you to murmur, "I'll accept it."

"What?"

"What you proposed last night, I'll accept it," you say calmly, quietly. You looked up at him with wavering eyes, "please...I need you right now."

Jungkook's heart practically lurched out of his chest. He knew he should take a step back, tell you that you'd end up regretting it and to take it back before it was too late. He knew, but the devil on his shoulder was much more insistent than his angel, and maybe... maybe his angel wanted it too—so fuck it all.

Jungkook took your lips in a magnetic dance, drawing you closer into him with one hand on your lower back and the other behind your head.

God, you were so lovely. How your head lolled for him, soft, plush lips jarred open. Jungkook has always been good at controlling himself when it came to you, but when he heard the slightest whimper escape your trembling lips, he felt he couldn't hold himself back any longer.

He didn't seek for permission to suck your lower lip, didn’t even seek permission to slide his tongue inside your lovely little mouth when you gasped. He held your chin, deepening the kiss. More, more, more—he wanted more of you. He wanted to explore your body, wanted to make your breath tremble, wanted to find out what you liked and disliked under bedsheets. Jungkook wanted to know you better than anyone else had. He wanted you, needed you.

“Kook,” You whimper into him as he pushes you against the wall, holding your thigh up. He grinds his bulge against your clothed cunt, sending wild tremors along your nerves. “F-feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He takes your other thigh, and you yelp as he lifts you up. Your surprise quickly washes out with haze when he buries his thick tent further into you. You let out a moan, wrapping your legs around his torso. “I can make you feel even better.”

The explosions of the fireworks are blurred with the palpitations of your heart as Jungkook lays you on the bed, his lips immediately finding home in yours. "Love how you sound for me, love," Jungkook’s wet, needy kisses trail down your neck...to your collarbones...to your breast. “So pretty like this, always so pretty,” his fingers ghost your sensitive nipples, perked from evening's cold. He doesn't waste any time to take one nipple into his mouth, his fingers playing with the other.

His cold hand trails down your stomach, finally pressing it down your soaked underwear. He smirks, feeling the soaked outline of your pussy lips. “Already so wet for me baby? How cute."

His plush lips leave your nipple with a pop, instead latching onto the crook of your neck. Your eyes go wide when you realize what he's about to do. “Wait, d-don’t! Not th—ah.” He doesn't allow you to finish your sentence, swiftly sliding your underwear out of the way before pressing a hard thumb over your clit. “Don't deny me, y/n,” His voice is low over your whiny moans. He sucks on the supple of your skin as he slides one, slender finger into you, smoothly drawing it in and out while he rolls your little bud with his other. “Please, need to show everyone that you’re mine,” he murmurs, licking his work, perfectly tinged with a pretty pink . “Besides...” he trails, taking note of your arousal dripping down his wrists. “You love this, don’t you?”

“N-No..! I...ah, K-Kook, Kookie..!” Your voice fails you, moans escaping from your trembling lips. “Jungkook s-stop..!” Jungkook frowns against your skin, and he lifts his head up to meet your gaze. “Why not?” His eyes are dark. You try to fight the muddle of your mind as his slow, tentative fingers continue to work on your cunt. “B-Because...because student c-council. It's inappropriate, and your friends will ask, a-and... mm!—“

“Taehyung?” Jungkook says bitterly, but you’re too indulged with the knot in your stomach. You moan loudly, your hands finding anchor wrapped around his biceps. “I'm sure you don’t want Taehyung to see, do you?” Jungkook's pace is furious now, and you barely make out his words through the thick fog of your mind. You feel so close. “Don’t want him to know that you're with me, hm? That i’m finger fucking you into my dumb whore."

His indecent words paint a wild blush on your cheeks. You never knew Jungkook could be like this, could be so mean.

"You know what I think..."

Jungkook lowers himself down between your sweaty thighs, quivering with painful pleasure. "''Think my dumb babygirl wants me to clean her messy little pussy up. Would you like that, love?"

"Y-Yeah," you moan, desperately bucking your hips up, "p-please eat me out, Kook."

"Needy girl," Jungkook lets out a sigh, his pants tightening around his painful hard on. You were so pretty like this, Jungkook swore he could cum just by watching you.

You almost cry when he pulls his fingers away, instead squeezing around your squishy hips. You do cry, though, when he gives your pussy a tantalizing lick, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "Knew my baby girl would taste so sweet," he groans. His tongue circles around your throbbing bud, sucking on it.

"Fuck! K-Kook, I-I can't," you wail, tears falling down your cheeks. Jungkook only flutters his eyes open, watching you with heated eyes as his tongue works on your wet cunt.

"Please, g-gonna cum, please!" Your back arches. Jungkook's hands the only thing anchoring you down.

"Then cum, baby, cum for me." Jungkok's voice is tender, coaxing like warm honey. With his encouragement, your dripping cunt spasms, unfurling your cream all over him. "That's my girl," His attentive tongue takes your sweet release, the embarrassing sound of slurping clouding your brain.

"You were so good for me, baby," He cooes, planting one final kiss on your quivering bud. Your cheeks tinge with a shy pink.

He lifts himself up, carefully laying over you so his forehead is pressed against yours. His eyes search yours under the veil of the moonlight. The fireworks must've stopped along the way, your heavy breaths filling the quiet room. "Tired, love?" Jungkook whispers, and you nod timidly, reaching your arms out to hug him.

Your skin is sticky with sweat like melting ice cream on hot summer days, but Jungkook adores his body pressed against yours. His fingers squeeze your smooth waist, placing gentle kisses on your neck, up your jaw, capturing your lips once more in a slow dance. A thin string line of saliva connects the two of you when he pulls back, and he breaks it off with a gentle graze across your wet lips.

"Think you can continue for me, baby?" Jungkook asks soothingly. "It's okay if you can't, of course. Must've been such a long day for you."

You shake your head, your hand lightly tracing the outline of the small scar on his cheek. You still remember the day he fell off his bicycle, somehow managing to tumble down the hill all the way to the train tracks. It must've been the first time you ever saw him cry.

"I want to."

"Are you sure?" His eyebrows perk up. "Because we really don't have to. I don't ever want you to feel like you have to please me. I know you took my offer, but if you aren't ready or comfortable, nothing has to happen. Believe it or not, pleasuring you already makes me feel euphoric." His words have you melt, gentle as a sweet night's lullaby.

"But I want us to feel good together," you say softly. "Please take me, Kookie. I want you." Jungkook's eyes widen, faint pink blooming on his cheeks, and you watch the stars in his eyes grow brighter with your shy gaze. He lets out a small chuckle, "god, you really don't know what you do to me, y/n."

He places a gentle peck on your lips one last time before rising to his knees, discarding his clothes. You're quick to slip off your nightdress and underwear, and you patiently admire Jungkook's toned physique as he worked to unbuckle his belt. Even the moon was enamored with him, tracing its luminous glow from his broad shoulders to his biceps, wrapping around his slim waist.

Your breath hitches when his dick springs out right in front of you, thick and swollen, oozing pre cum. Jungkook watches you with heated eyes, his hand grazing his dick. "Wow," you breathe, sitting up and replacing his hand with yours. Jungkook's hisses when you stroke his cock, doe eyed to his length that throbbed with neglect. "You're so pretty, Kookie. You're pretty everywhere..."

"I should be the one who's telling you that, darling," he lets out a shaky breath through his smile, his hand finding your cheek. "Now, i’d love for that lovely little mouth of yours to suck my cock, but I feel like i'm gonna explode any minute now, and i'd like to do so inside of you," he chuckles when a furious blush takes your cheeks. You let him push you down, positioning himself in between your legs. He takes his pulsating cock in his hands, sliding his glistening head over your cunt. "Would you like that baby? Want me to cum in this cute little pussy? Wanna take Kook's cum like a good girl?" You feel yourself shy from his words, whimpering, "y-yes please, Kookie."

"Tell me how much you want it, baby."

"S-So bad. Kookie p-please, want you to fill me up."

"Yeah?" Jungkook chuckled, a cocky smirk on his lips that made you tremble. "Think your tiny pussy can even take my cock?"

"Y-Yes, m'pussy wants your cock, p-please Kook!"

"Dirty girl, love it when you beg for me," he pushes the blunt head of his cock into your swelling entrance, already having you see stars by the time he fills you up whole. "You okay?" Jungkook breathes out, his forehead falling against yours. You nodded timidly, "j-just need a little time to adjust."

"Okay, baby, tell me when you're ready." He pecks your nose, letting out a shaky sigh as your walls clench around him. When you do, Jungkook takes your knees, pushing them on either side of you so your legs are spread out wide for him.

He pulls out his whole cock so he could see the flush tip of his cock before plunging back into you. You moan loudly to his even pace, bottoming you out with every thrust.

"F-fuck, been wishing for this forever. Just want to punish this pussy for making me wait for this long."

Harsh skin to skin contact and the squelch of your juices mixing together fills your fuzzy mind. You felt so full, you could practically feel him in your belly. "Shit, you're practically swallowing me. You like this, don't you?"

"Y-yeah, love your cock, Kookie," you moan, his pace growing faster and more unforgiving. "I'm never letting you go after this, fuck y/n. You're mine, you’re so fucking mine. Say it, say you're mine, p-please."

"Yours," you whimper, feeling the familiar tingling ecstasy overwhelm your stomach. "O-Only yours, Kookie."

"That's right, baby, open your mouth." You didn't know exactly why, but you didn't question him. He could tell you to do absolutely anything right now and you'd do it. Your wet lips jar open for him, and Jungkook spits in your mouth, sending a wave of tremor through your body. "Swallow."

You listen, obediently swallowing. "That's my girl."

"Kookie, kookie...m'gonna cum!"

"Again baby? You’re so easy, barely have to do anything and you're spilling." You moan to his words, thrusting in and out of you in a hypnotic pace. "Go on then, baby. Cum for me, make a mess over my balls."

Your whole body tenses, feeling the overwhelming wave wash over you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you release around him the second time. "Good girl, baby, so good for me, fuck," Jungkook hisses to your tightening walls squeezing around him, driving himself into your belly until he pours all his cum deep inside of you.

You practically drooled, his load coming out in spurts of thick cream. When he pulls out, your pussy twitches, his cum oozing out. He falls onto your chest, and your heavy pants fill the room.

After awhile, Jungkook lazily pulls you to lay over him. "Okay, baby?"

"Mm," you murmur into his sweaty chest, trying to recollect your breath. You open your mouth to thank him, but a loud explosion takes your voice. In a second, waves of yellow wash the room, then blue, then purple. Your tiredness subdues into drowsy awe. You sit up and Jungkook does too, positioning you on his lap. "I think this is the second show. Timing is fitting don't you think?"

You giggle, and Jungkook sees daylight in your eyes. "Too fitting. I'm starting to think that this was all part of some big plan."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, laughing as he tucks a hair behind your ear. "Silly girl, of course it is." You look at him quizzically. "We're soulmates aren't we? The universe is just celebrating us."

You smile, sighing as you lean into his chest. "Whatever you say, my soulmate." Jungkook's eyes widen. He felt twelve again, dumbstruck euphoria overwhelming his love for you any time you called him yours. His shock settles into a soft smile, holding you in his arms while you watch the fireworks. It takes him awhile to realize your eyes are closed though.

"Sleepy, love? Thought you loved the fireworks."

"I do," you giggle, pushing him down onto the soft mattress. You snuggle into his chest. "Just listening to your heartbeat."

Jungkook blushes. He was going to urge you to clean up, but with you looking so cozy on top of him, he knew you'd much rather rest. He sighs lovingly, stroking your hair. He hasn't felt this happy in awhile. "About your payment, I’ll wire $800 just for tomorrow, but we’ll officially talk about the—"

“Shhhh!” You grumble, burying your head further into him. “Don’t wanna talk about money right now, just let me be with you.”

Jungkook blinks, and you look up to him with a pout. Purple lights up the seoul's night sky, casting an soft glow on Jungkook’s face. He chuckles, thumb brushing your cheeks.

"Needy girl.”

a/n : wooooo this took the longest time to write. its pretty bulky so whoevers got to this point i love you sosososo and i hope you enjoyed my work ! feedback is welcome and super appreciated, reading comments really do make my day <3 i was thinking of making a sequel/continuation for this but im not so sure ,, we'll see. anyways, i hope you have a lovely day my loves ! stay hydrated and healthy, i hope you eat good food today. make sure to take care of yourself too !

#jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts jk #bangtan #bangtan boys #jungkook scenarios #jungkook friends to lovers #kim taehyung

[stylesharrys]

Home to Me

A/N: this was originally a patron-exclusive piece but you guys get it now! This is pretty angsty and was originally like a blurb request, but it’s fairly lengthy and I kinda love it with my whole heart?? anyway, enjoy!

WC: 4,593

Y/N sniffles again and takes a shaky inhale of breath. “I uh… I’m being discharged,” she tells him through a choked sob. There’s a silence between them and Harry’s torn. He’s about to see his baby girl again but on what grounds? What happened?

He swallows dryly. Harry’s sitting up in bed, scratching at the back of his neck and his eyes are pinched closed. He’s trying to stop his heart from hammering as he finds the words to say. 

“Okay… okay, tha’s okay… wha’ happened?” He coos.

or

Y/N’s a nurse in the army and Harry just wants her back home with him.

//

More than anything, there’s the overwhelming fear that catapults through his body whenever he hears a tapping at his front door. More than anything, it’s the soul-consuming, nauseating rush that washes over him in tidal waves whenever his phone rings.

Harry’s a mess, he always is when she’s drafted back out to another foreign country where he can’t protect her. He’s sick every morning when he wakes up and every night as he tries to settle to sleep. Her lack of presence makes him ill and he hates not knowing what’s going on.

He’s on edge all the time, distraught and anxious. Every time before she leaves, he promises he’ll be okay — that he won’t worry so much, that he won’t make himself ill. They’re all lies.

Y/N left for an undisclosed location two weeks ago and Harry’s reaping the consequences. He hasn’t slept more than an hour every night and his loss of appetite came days before she flew out. It’s selfish, he knows it is. Selfish for begging her not to go, to think of him, of her family. He hates himself for it, but he loves her too much to potentially lose her.

He stays though, he waits for her. He spends his time writing songs and visiting her family. He spends his sleepless nights re-reading old texts and letters she’s sent him while she’s drafted. Harry is proud and he’ll scream it from the rooftops, but he’s scared and anxious, and he wants her home with him.

They argued two days before she felt out. He made her feel guilty, made her rethink her career and what it means for them. The conversation of starting a real family together had arisen, of having children and moving out of the luxurious apartment and getting themselves a five-bed home closer to Holmes Chapel.

Then Harry had said those bitter words that had her ignoring him for hours. “Bit selfish to want a baby but won’t do anything now to stop putting your life at risk.” He grovelled after her for six hours; apologising and taking back what he said. He knew she was angry, knew she had every right to be, but he meant what he said and she knows it.

In the two weeks she’s been gone, he’s had complete radio silence. By now, he’d have received his first letter, one that reassured him she’s okay, that misses out the scary world she’s working in. He would’ve received another little Polaroid photo attached of her in her uniform, of a couple of her friends she’s made in the nurses' tents.

But he’s received nothing and maybe that’s why his fear and anxiety is so heightened this time around. He’s tried convincing her plenty of times that she can do the same job in the safety of London. That she could get any position in any hospital where she would still be helping people but be safe while doing so.

And she’s always argued otherwise. Argued that she wouldn’t get the rush she gets when she’s on the field. That she wouldn’t be saving and helping her country like she does when she’s shipped off with the soldiers. And Harry fucking hates it.

He hates it because it only takes one stray bullet, one big missile. It only takes one thing to take her life and he can’t stomach the thought of it. He’s left with a permanent bitter taste in his mouth when she’s gone and no matter what he does, he can’t stop himself from thinking the worst.

He puts on a brave face for her family and his. Anne and Gemma are lounging on the sofa beside him, Y/N’s parents Cathy and Robert sitting on the smaller couch opposite them. There’s an old rerun of Friends on the TV and they’ve all got a cup of tea in their hands, having just finished a gorgeous lunch Anne had prepared.

They do this a lot when Y/N’s dispatched. Being together gives them a bigger sense of being close to Y/N and sometimes it’s quite nice to worry together, rather than alone. Because Robert and Cathy have each other when the sun goes down. Gemma and Anne have each other when the stars start to shine. But when darkness comes and consumes him whole, Harry has nobody.

“Was this one a three month or six-month mission?” Robert asks after a brief sip of his tea. Cathy sighs as she snuggles into his side. He’s always tried to forget the details of his little girls time away. He doesn’t want to allow his mind to count down the days, to come to terms with what she’s doing.

He’s proud, they all are, but she’s still his little girl and he wants to hold and protect her. “Three months... could be extended, though,” Harry answers, voice lacking its usual light-hearted nature. Anne reaches across for her son, hand on his shoulder as she squeezes reassuringly.

She’s always begged for him to come back to Holmes Chapel while Y/N’s away, but he won’t. He can’t. He tells them he needs to stay home to feel close to her and while that’s true, he doesn’t tell them the main reason. He needs to stay home in case informants come knocking with the news that she won’t be coming home again.

Cathy hums, nodding her head. Tears are welling in her soft brown eyes and Harry feels her pain. They’ve spent countless evenings whimpering in each other’s arms. They all hate feeling this way but they do it for Y/N. They do it because they’re proud and she loves her job. She’s wanted this since she was old enough to understand what an army nurse was.

No one knows why this time is hitting them harder than the rest. It’s no different in what’s happening and what she’s doing, but there’s something off between the five of them. Something is wrong with the situation. It’s not necessarily a bad feeling, more one of uneasiness and uncertainty. Of what, they’re not sure.

“I don’t know how you do it, Harry.” Robert is rubbing Cathy’s arm when he speaks and Harry frowns a little, looking to his lovers' father. “I’m losing my mind my little girl being out there... don’t know how I’d cope if it was the love of my life.” There’s something a little sour in how he says it, suggesting that he doesn’t love Y/N as much as he loves Cathy, but Harry says nothing. He knows Robert loves his daughter more than anything.

Harry nods, gnawing on his inner cheek. ���I’m not,” he admits. “I’m not coping.”

-----

It’s two in the morning. He’s wide awake, awoken abruptly from a twenty-minute nap of watching his love lose her life. He’s thrown up twice in the thirty minutes he’s been awake, showered and changed the sweat-soaked sheets.

He’s only just stopped crying, body aching and eyes stinging. He feels like he can’t do this anymore like everything is hurting way too much and he just doesn’t know what to do.

He contemplates phoning his mum, maybe even watching a few old videos he has of Y/N on his phone, just to hear her voice. But he thinks that might make him feel worse. His phone is pinched between his fingers as he lays spread on his back on the mattress. He’s kicked off the duvet and he’s in only a pair of boxers.

Deciding to hurt his heart, even more, he unlocks his phone and scrolls through his camera roll. He’s about to click on a video, taking a deep breath to prepare for her face but his phone cuts off and an Unknown Caller is plastered across his screen.

Harry feels his stomach drop, feels himself grow dizzy and faint. He isn’t silly. He knows she’s the only one to contact him on a blocked number. It’s the only way she can verbally contact him while she’s away. He answers the call with a trembling thumb, bringing the phone to his ear.

It’s silent, a little static on the other end and then he hears it. “Harry?” His shoulders sag in relief at the sound of the familiar voice. He’s holding onto her tone; her shaky and unsteady voice as she calls out his name quietly.

His stomach flips. “Love? Baby, ‘s tha’ you?” He doesn’t know why he asks for confirmation, he knows her voice from miles away. He doesn’t see her nod on the other end of the line but he’s sure she’s doing it anyway. “It’s me. I’m here, baby,” she whispers down the phone and tears spring to his eyes.

He can’t stop crying. His heart is crumbling to the pit of his stomach and he just wants his baby back home with him. “Fuck, Y/N. Wha’s going on? You never call this soon when you’re away,” he rambles. It’s true, and maybe hearing her voice is giving him more anxiety.

They’re not allowed to make personal calls very often. It’s something the army have become very strict upon. For soldiers, they’re allowed their video call home once a week. For nurses, they’re allowed their phone call home once a month, if they’re lucky.

She’s only been gone two weeks, something doesn’t sit right with Harry.

He hears her sniffle again and he feels sick. Is she hurt? Is she not coming home? Is this going to be the last time they ever hear each other’s voices? No, no, no. Harry shakes his head and grips the phone tighter. Fuck, he needs to hold her.

“Baby?” He coos softly.

Y/N sniffles again and takes a shaky inhale of breath. “I uh... I’m being discharged,” she tells him through a choked sob. There’s a silence between them and Harry’s torn. He’s about to see his baby girl again but on what grounds? What happened?

He swallows dryly. Harry’s sitting up in bed, scratching at the back of his neck and his eyes are pinched closed. He’s trying to stop his heart from hammering as he finds the words to say. “Okay... okay, tha’s okay... wha’ happened?” He coos.

He knows his girl, he knows how much she loves what she does. He knows she’s no doubt beating herself up about being discharged, but he needs to know why. Was she involved in misconduct? Was she injured? What happened?

She clears her throat and he hears shuffling on her end again. “My flight lands in about 9 hours... will you be okay to pick me up from the airport?” His eyes snap open, bulging wide. She’s coming home today? He’s blubbering like a fish out of water, like everything is happening all at once and he feels like maybe his inward prayers of her coming home have been answered by the gods above.

He feels guilty, like he’s coaxed the universe to put this upon her.

“Wha’... ‘course, baby.” He promises. “Fuck, are you alrigh’? Are ya hurt? Babe, you’ve gotta tell me somethin’,” he begs, voice strained. He doesn’t know that she’s sitting in the airport, sobbing silently into her hand. He doesn’t know that she’s completely broken and aching.

She takes a deep breath to compose herself, doesn’t want him to worry more than she’s already been forcing him to. “I’m okay, I promise,” she sobs. Harry’s heart shatters at the sound, gripping the sheets in tight fits. He just wants her in his arms.

“Listen, don’t tell Mum and Dad I’ve been discharged, please? I just want to come home to you before everyone knows I’m back. We need to talk, H. You were right. It is selfish, and I can’t be selfish anymore.”

He stops breathing for a hot second, heart skipping multiple beats as he tries to grasp what she’s saying. “Y/N, wha’ are ya saying, love. Ye’r scaring me,” he mutters out as she bites back horrifying sobs.

“Don’t be scared, it’s all gonna be okay. I’ll see you at the airport, yeah? I love you, H.”

He sniffles, nodding to himself. “I love you more, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

Harry struggles to sleep when the call ends. He has nine hours to kill but he can’t think of doing anything other than panicking and crying. She wouldn’t tell him why she was discharged over the phone and Harry still can’t help but think the worst.

What if her leaving the army is the worst thing for her in the long run? What if she ends up hating Harry because he was right. What do they need to talk about? Why does he feel so sick?

He spends the next nine hours pacing around the house. He manages to run to the store at 7 am to stock up the fridge and cupboards. He knows the shitty survival food she has to eat and that she usually appreciates nothing more than a nice home-cooked meal. This will be the first time she’s coming straight home to just him. Whenever past missions have been over and she’s come home, they’ve always met at her parents' house, always had a family gathering with food and drinks and music.

This time it will be just Y/N and Harry and whatever food they desire when she gets home. During his drive to the airport, he can’t help but replay her words in his mind. He can’t help but think the worst when he remembers that she didn’t want her family knowing she’s back. He doesn’t understand it and he needs her to explain everything.

It takes Harry twenty minutes to hype himself up enough to get out of the car. As eager as he is to see his love again, he doesn’t think he has the guts to face her if she decides to choose her career over him and call their relationship off. He doesn’t think he has the guts to face her if she’s limping and battered and bruised.

He sucks it up, reminding himself that Y/N is the one that’s been putting her life at risk to save others, that Y/N is the one that is affected more by her discharge than he is.

He finds her terminal fairly quickly. It’s in a somewhat restricted area and Harry can’t help but wonder if other nurses or soldiers will walk out with her, or if she’ll be all alone.

It comes through across the tannoy that her plane is landing, and out of the window, he sees a small jet that she’s tucked away in. He sucks in a breath and hangs back, hands clammy as he clasps the bunch of flowers tight in his hands.

He’s never picked her up from the airport before and he’s getting anxious. The last thing he wants is someone noticing him and flooding their reunion across the internet.

He’s waiting for no more than five minutes before he sees the terminal door open to the connection to the plane and his love is walking out and toward him. She isn’t dressed in her uniform, she’s got on a pair leggings and one of Harry’s worn shirts that hangs just below her ass.

She isn’t limping from what Harry can see and despite the look of sheer exhaustion and hopelessness, she doesn’t look bad at all.

Her eyes are teary when she meets Harry’s gaze and he sees her bottom lip quiver. Y/N’s shuffling closer to his open arms, dragging her case along with her and she leaves it by the side as she crashes into her chest.

She’s sobbing into his hold, arms tight around his middle as he coddles her closer. “I missed you, missed you so much,” she hiccups into his shirt and he can barely make sense of what she’s saying. He coos her softly, smoothing down matted hair and kissing the top of her head.

As much as he’s basking in holding her close and feeling her touch again, he’s too aware of the possible prying eyes that could be intruding on such a private moment. He pulls away from her, one hand holding the flowers and his free hand reaches down to wipe her tears.

She offers a smile through the despair and they both know they can’t share more than a hug until they’re alone. She understands that. Y/N takes the flowers from his hands and tucks herself into his side. Harry drags the case for her, an arm around her shoulder as they make their way through the exists and to the car.

She doesn't want to let go of him when he opens the passenger door, but she does, tentatively, and lets him shove her luggage in the boot before rounding down to the drivers' side. The second he sits in his seat and starts up the engine, Y/N can't take anymore.

She knows she's gone months without seeing him, but knowing what she knows with her discharge, she's missed him more than she ever thought possible. Her hand is quick to find his and she interlaces their fingers, leaning closer just as he turns his head to smother her lips across his.

It's soft yet messy, full of all the love and adoration they share. Harry’s hand leaves the wheel and cups the side of her face. His brows are furrowed as he kisses her harder, lips puckered and tongue softly licking across her bottom lip to get some sort of proper taste of her.

Y/N pulls away first, pecking his lips again and when his eyes flutter open, she's nearly crying. She settles back in her seat, Harry's hand resting heavily on her thigh, so Y/N takes it upon herself to change gears for him as he reverses out of his spot and makes his way back to their home.

The drive to the apartment is silent. Y/N sniffles from time to time but she keeps her focus out of her window and her hand resting on top of Harry's that still sits on her thigh. Harry keeps his gaze flickering from the road to the side of her face. He's on edge, so fucking desperate to know what's going on.

In the four years they've been together, Harry has never seen or heard her so distant yet so hysteric. She's completely off in herself and he's starting to understand why she didn't want her family around when she got home. Maybe when they get home, she's going to end it all.

Harry's broken into an uncomfortable sweat by the time they get home. She waits for him as he gets her bag from the car and they walk together in silence up to their flat. Their hands stay tucked together, only pulling apart for Harry to unlock the front door and usher her inside.

It's awkward as they stand there when the door closes. Harry isn't sure he wants to pressure her to tell him and Y/N isn't sure where she should begin about it all. She feels safe, though. Comfortable in her home once again and she notices just how obvious it is that Harry cleaned before he picked her up. He never usually fluffs the pillows.

She's toying nervously with her own fingers as she approaches the sofa, settling herself down and biting back the sigh of relief at the softness. Harry regards her for a moment, rolling her suitcase into the living room and standing idly a little opposite from her but the way his lanky frame casts a shadow in the late morning light that shines through the window, causes a little more anxiety to the young woman.

"Can uh, can you sit down for a sec," she stutters out, gnawing on her bottom lip. Harry nods and sits beside her, his knees bumping hers. She's trying to calm her breathing, trying to remind herself that this is Harry and that they'll be alright.

"Babe," he coos, hand cupping over hers to stop the nervous jitters. "Ya can tell me anything'."

Y/N nods her head and wipes her clammy hands over her legs. "I know, I know... I just don't want you to be angry with me," she admits, daring to look up at him. Harry's brows are pinched and there are worry lines creasing in his forehead. He shakes his head and shuffles closer to her.

"Not gonna be mad at ya, love. Whatever's happened, we'll get through it together, yeah? We're a team, you 'n me." He goads, voice as light as he can make it under the unknowing circumstances and she nods, teeth clenched as she tries to get a grip.

"They didn't pick it up on my health checks two weeks before I got shipped out," she starts, voice shaking and Harry nods slowly, holding his breath. Pick what up? "But I got feeling really uneasy and icky and faint when one of the soldiers came into the tent with his leg hanging off -- and you know me, Harry, I don't get giddy or squeamish over that shit, but I fainted --"

"You fainted?!" He blurts. He's worried now, heart racing. "Wha' the fuck is going on, Y/N. Ya need t' tell me."

She chokes out a frantic sob, face distorted in worry and anxiety and she reaches for his hands quickly. "I didn't know before I got shipped out, I swear, H. I never would have let them put my name in again if I knew, please, believe me, I swear it." She begs, cheeks stained with tears but Harry can't wrap his head around what she's saying.

He's crying, too. Her knuckles have turned colour from her grip on his hands but he can't feel the crushing pain of her hold. "Know wha'? Wha' is it, Y/N? Is it -- are you sick? Is it--"

"I'm not sick," she shakes her head quickly. Her shoulders have sunk, chest heaving softly as she calms herself for her next words. Her bottom lip quivers as another tear slips down her hot face and she cups his warm and damp cheeks in the palms of her trembling hands, shuffling closer.

"H... I'm pregnant."

Everything is white noise as Harry stares at her lips -- the same lips that uttered the most life-changing words to him. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. His mouth blubbers open and closed helplessly before he breathes again.

"Y'er pregnant?" His tone is soft and gentle, could barely be considered anything above a whisper and Y/N nods her head again with another sniffle. "Nine weeks along... that's why they sent me home," she admits and Harry finally looks at her and his world comes crashing down.

All he can see is the guilt and self-hatred in her eyes and he knows exactly what she's thinking. "I didn't know, Harry. I swear, I didn't know." He shakes his head and pulls her into his lap. "I know, pet... y'er alright'." He coddles her to his chest, kissing at her temple as she sobs into his shirt.

He's at loss for words, can't wrap his fucking head around what's going on. He's going to be a dad. She pulls away as quickly as he pulled her into him and she wipes her tears, desperate to compose herself.

"You were right. I'm selfish for what I do when I knew we wanted to start a family. I'm selfish because I should have taken a test before I left, but I didn't and I put our baby in danger." She's rambling desperately and Harry lunges for her, cupping her face in his huge palms and cooing her to a state of calmness.

"Stop, right now." His voice is stern, firm and even but she listens. "You didn't know, love. Ya can't blame y'self fo' somethin' you didn't even know about. You're home and ya safe. And so is our baby," he reassures her, words slowly drawled out.

She nods in his hold, lips swollen from the insistent crying but the realisation of the entire situation quickly dawns on them. "Our baby," he repeats. "We're having a fuckin' baby!" He's buzzing, grinning wide and so is Y/N.

Waves of relief crash over them and the happiness is quick to take over any worry or anger and they're ecstatic. "You're gonna be a dad," Y/N notes, nose bumping his and he grins against her mouth, slotting his lips with hers and he hums. "And y'er gonna be a mum," he retorts between kisses.

They're smiling too much to actually have their lips pressed to the others. It’s a mess of clashing teeth and warm breath but fuck if it isn't the most special kiss they've ever shared.

Y/N pulls away just enough to see his face. He's smooth, something she's only just realised and he must've shaved as well as cleaned before he got her. She brushes his growing hair out of his face and tucks a lock behind his ear. "I'm not going back," she tells him.

Y/N is quick to notice the hesitation in his eyes but before he can say anything, to say he's sorry for influencing her decision, to say they should talk about this after the baby is born, she cuts him off.

"Even once we have the baby, I can't be going off again for months at a time and putting myself in that danger. You're gonna have tours and I know you said you'd take a break when the time comes that we have a baby, but I still can't go back out there. You and our little bub are the most important things to me. I'll get a job at a hospital nearby, but I'm never going back out there. I know that now.”

They're both in tears as Harry nods his head. One hand rests on her neck and the other on the subtle swell of her lower abdomen. Even through the salty tears, they're beaming at one another with excitement for their future together.

"I love you, so fucking much."

Y/N laughs tearily, leaning forward to plant a wet kiss to her lover's lips. "I love you, too. So, so much, H." He kisses her lips again through a smile and wipes away at her damp cheeks.

Harry encourages Y/N to lay back on the sofa and he shimmies between her parted thighs, the way he usually would if he was going to spend the night down there. Only, this time, he lifts her shirt and his cool hands cradle her tummy, nosing at the soft and podgy skin as he peppers gentle kisses.

"And I love you, ya little angel. Ya gonna be so loved and cared for, you'll be sick of me 'n y'er mum." A laugh echoes from Y/N's lips and he grins at the sound, crawling back up her body to kiss her lips gently, really getting a taste of her. "D'ya wanna call everyone over t'share the news?" he asks against her lips, brushing back stray hairs from her forehead.

She mulls it over in her head for a moment. She wants this moment with Harry, to bask in his company and feel his touch on her skin again. She wants him to know that she's serious about her decision, that it will always be him and they're baby before anything else.

She shakes her head. "Not yet, I'm happy with just us three."

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #imagine harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic

[hunflowers]

Golden

Word Count: 15.3k

Requested? I don’t remember, but you always can here :)

Mood Board

A/N: Lord, have mercy SHE’S FINALLY HERE!!!!! My baby Golden is finally out to the public and can I just say how fucking relieved I am to post it. I love her, I hope you do too <3 little warning: there are mentions of panic attacks in here, and a heart condition (that i did my best to research on) so if you’re uncomfortable, pls don’t read. 

special thanks to my soul baby @stylesloveclub​ for being my biggest support system with this, she’s dedicated to you <3

for anyone reading this, please reblog! it really helps us writers out. okay onward friends!!! lemme know how i did and if you like it *nose boops*

Water. The ocean. Waves. The tide.

Symbolic of life, birth. Can be used to wash away even the most troubling of sins.

O’ahu, Hawaii, home to some of the best surfing destinations in the state, in the country, in the world. Also home to one of the best surfers in the state, in the country, in the world. 

Y/N didn’t coin herself that. Not that she’s complaining about it, but she doesn’t surf for the title. She surfs for the freedom. She feels the most alive when her toes dig into the sand as she runs towards the warm, salt oblivion, her novelty yellow and blue surfboard tucked under her arm.

Her whole life she had been surrounded by water. When she was a baby, she always wanted a bath. When she was a toddler, she always wanted to stay in the kiddie pool. And then she got into surfing, and well, the rest is history so-to-speak. Her parents never got themselves involved in the sport professionally but more as a recreational activity. And it was even how they met, so really there was no stopping surfing from flowing through Y/N’s blood.

Her backyard was the ocean, so growing up, it was really the only thing for her to do. It’s what all the kids were doing, and Y/N was no different. She met her best friends on the beach when they were five years old, practicing the basics of surfing, like getting up on the board and finding their balance with the Earth.

Kalani and AJ, two of the best surfers Y/N will ever meet, and two of the purest souls to ever grace her life. They’re madly in love with one another. Have been for as long as they’ve been friends -- so coming up on sixteen years. Y/N is in awe of their relationship, she really is, but being a third-wheel isn’t exactly something she signed up for. Though, she kind of expected it when growing up.

They tried countless times to set her up with someone, but time and time again their matchmaking skills have failed, and Y/N is tired of them pitying her. No, she may not be in a long term relationship, but she hardly has time for a relationship anyway. Especially with competitions coming up, she needs to keep herself focused on surfing rather than some boy who will probably end up breaking her heart.

Well, that was her intention anyway.

October 27th, the first day of the best months out of the year.

And it started just the same as every other year. Y/N woke up at the crack of dawn and threw on her lucky white bathing suit before throwing an apple down her throat. Her surfboard was perched up against the back patio railing, and she swiftly tucked it under her arm as she made her way down the shore, being greeted by the luminescent sun that was swarming the sea in a shade of tangerine and lemon.

Jogging knee deep into water, Y/N sunk her hand just below the surface, swaying it back and forth, taking a deep breath as she felt the cool texture swarm her body. Exhaling slowly, she threw herself down onto her board, paddling onward into the great unknown. The familiar sound of the crashing waves causing her to flinch for a brief moment before comforting her ears as she watches the restless ocean ahead of her, a smile washing over her face as she could basically see her future ahead of her.

Today marks qualifying day, and obviously if she marks as qualified, she moves forward to the Vans Triple Crown. She’s been training all year, her body practically a prune with how much she’s been in the water. But, a minute can’t go to waste, so up until the very last second where she has to head to the north shore, she’s gonna remain in the water and build her intuition with how the day is going to go.

Last year, Y/N had to cut her time short when she was hospitalized the night before the first competition. So, she was all more determined to win the championship that is rightfully hers. Well, in the women’s division at least. Last year was ripped from her right when it was under her nose and she refuses to have a repeat of it. 

After her hospitalization, everyone was convinced she’d never return to the water. Despite the ocean being her second home, everyone figured she would turn away -- avoid the embarrassment last year brought upon her. But, it only made her stronger and more determined to prove everyone wrong. No matter how frightening it really was.

Her first wave of the day had her coasting along smoothly, starting her out easy as waves progressively got bigger with the tide. When she got out into the water, the sun had just broken past the horizon line, yet by the time she left, the sun was nearly at its peak in the sky. Her skin felt raw, yet her body was running on adrenaline as she scoffed down the lunch her mom had made her before they banded into the family van and headed to Sunset Beach on the north shore.

Y/N’s heart raced in her chest, her leg bouncing subconsciously but furiously as she watched the landscape pass her by through the window. Her typically calming music wasn’t even working as she ran through multiple scenarios in her mind of what could go wrong today and how her day, her week, month, even year could be ruined.

Once outside of the van and on the beach, her parents pulled her close into a tight, warm hug, whispering words of encouragement in her ears, knowing just how important this was for her. Surfing and competitions had always been important to Y/N, but following last year’s downfall, this day was going to make or break whatever is left of her both physically and emotionally.

“Y/N!” she heard her name being called from the distance, the three of them immediately letting go of one another as they exchanged sheepish smiles.

“Y/N!” Was called out again, causing her to turn around and see Kalani running straight for the three of them, waving her arms in a drastic manner to gain her best friend’s attention. “Oh my -- I ran so fast, wow, I need to calm down,” Kalani breathed out, closing Y/N into a firm embrace.

“Save your energy for the waves, babe,” Y/N laughed, wrapping her own arms around Kalani’s frame. The two of them were never inseparable, it was kind of like they were actually glued to the hip together ever since they were children. And a lot of people were surprised they remained best friends through the years, what with both of them always competing in the same surfing competitions battling for the first place spot. And they knew this could be a strain on their relationship, but they decided ever since they were seven years old that they weren’t going to let surfing get between them. No matter what, they were always proud of each other for everything they’ve accomplished and are each other’s number one fans.

Thing is, Y/N tends to snag that first place spot a lot of the time, and Kalani always just misses her, earning her the second spot, right beneath her. But, Kalani has grown to accept that Y/N is better at the sport, and that’s nothing for her to be ashamed of. She’s managed to get a few of her own first place wins, and in her eyes, that’s good enough. She can’t live her life being jealous of her best friend because that’s not healthy, and anyway, surfing is much more Y/N’s livelihood than it is her own, so she’s fine with being second best -- despite what others may think.

Tugging her board off the top of the car, Y/N tucked it beneath her arm as she walked hand-in-hand with Kalani to wherever her family had set up camp on the beach. “Where’s AJ?” Y/N wondered, as she looked out into the water and saw no one out in it.

“The boys are starting soon, so he’s with Nav,” Kalani said, finally stopping in front of her parents and younger brother, and AJ’s older brother.

“Y/N!” They greeted, getting up from their chairs to kiss the girl on the cheek before greeting her parents. “It’s so great to see you back here,” Kalani’s mom smiled, pinching Y/N’s cheek before plopping herself back down under the sun.

They all began to catch up with one another since it’s been awhile they’ve all gotten together, all of them falling into old habits as if it hadn’t been months since they were last together. Y/N tried to engage in as much conversation as possible, but her mind tended to wander off as the guys started lining up in the water and making their way out. Her throat dried up and her palms were sweating -- and not from the heat -- as her nerves kicked in. Her memory began to cloud her vision as she stood abruptly and quickly walked away from the group, her heart picking up again.

Her breaths shortened as her mind blurred, and all she wanted was to curl up on her bed and calm her mind. She felt someone’s hand on her back, and immediately she could tell it was her father by the smell of his cologne. Once she was far enough from people, Y/N could feel tears well in her eyes as short images flashed across her eyes, cutting each inhale of breath in half -- which caused her to panic even more as she couldn’t breathe properly.

Last year ruined her, and she absolutely despises that this is considered her normal day-to-day routine now, her body shaking with fear as she feels herself collapsing from the inside, out. “Y/N, honey, can you hear me?” She thinks she hears her father say, but is undetermined with the intense white noise that’s swarming her ear drums.

“Count with me, c’mon, backwards from ten.”

But, all her mind could focus on was her body sinking lower and lower beneath the surface of water.

“Ten… Gotta count, c’mon you can do it, nine.”

“Eight,” she murmured, reaching out to grasp her dad’s shirt tight in her fist, just to make sure that he was really in front of her. She needs to be reminded that last year is her past, and that no matter how forward it is in her mind, it’s not her present anymore and she’s not drowning. “Seven.”

He took her hands and held them to his chest, “Six, keep going.”

“Fi-” she gulps, swallowing the lump in her throat, “..five.”

She makes it all the way down to zero, her body visibly relaxing and mentally as she hesitantly looks around to see no one watching the little event. “Do you want to go home?”

Y/N looks up to her father, shaking her head in response as she sniffles her nose and brushes away the one stray tear that has cascaded down her cheek. “No… I can do this.”

He cocks his head to the side and purses his lips, slowly nodding his head. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he turns them back in the direction, walking with her slowly as she continues to gather herself. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, Y/N. Everyone knows you’re an amazing surfer.”

“I think I just need to prove it to myself,” she stated, dragging her feet through the sand like a child so it slowed their arrival time back with the group. She can only imagine that her mom had informed everyone already of what was happening, and the last thing she wants is their sorry eyes and pathetic spouts of pity that she knows she’ll wish they just kept to themselves.

Y/N knows she’s broken. She’s not the same girl everyone knew this time last year, but she doesn’t need to be reminded of it every time she steps into a room. What happened last year was serious and she understands that people are worried; But all she wants is for everyone to forget about it. Including herself. She thinks the thing that’s causing her the most trepidation now -- rather than in the morning or all year long -- is the fact she’s now back in front of a crowd again, eyes trained on her like hawks watching prey, waiting for something awful to happen again.

The only thing missing is the popcorn as they watch this free entertainment.

When they finally came back to everyone, Y/N noticed the guys had started paddling out. Everyone was talking amongst themselves, dismissing her presence as she sat herself down back in the sand, and a breath of relief escaped her lips. The tension was there, but everyone ignored it for her sake, and Y/N couldn’t be more grateful.

“Go, AJ!” Kalani cheered, pumping her fist and shouting a few hoots and hollers afterward. Dom, AJ’s brother, let out a few ear screeching whistles, the kind with the fingers in the mouth, joining in on rooting for his brother. 

Watching the guys out there solidified to Y/N how real this really is, and soon her veins were pumping with excitement again instead of dread as she cheered on her best friend. He was going to qualify, they all were and they knew that, but it's always fun to get excited about the possibility of moving forward and winning the titles and earning the trophies.

All the other faces that surfed alongside AJ were mostly familiar, their names ringing bells as the announcers spoke of them, but there was one that Y/N hadn’t ever heard before. It’s the same cycle of people every year, yet this guy was fresh. And the only reason she’s curious as to who he is, is because he’s good. Like, really good.

Kalani can’t exactly remember if she’s heard of him either, shrugging to Y/N’s wonderment, “I don’t know. Maybe AJ knows.” His pink surfboard and pink wet shirt stuck out as he was a sight for sore eyes, and Y/N grew a little resentment towards him as he pulled out a few advanced maneuvers, gaining everyone’s undivided attention that used to be on AJ.

“Who is that?” Y/N’s mother questioned, looking around to see that no one knew the answer. 

He was a mystery yet he radiated this vibrant energy as the guys finished their rounds, walking off with grace in his step as he laughed at something Nav -- one of the three’s friends -- had said. The girls bid their goodbyes to their families as they headed over to where the guys were before their rounds. AJ immediately came running over to them, hugging Y/N and Kalani simultaneously before giving his girlfriend a quick kiss on the lips. “You did great,” Kalani smiled, keeping her arms wrapped around his center.

“Alright, not in front of me,” Y/N grimaced, looking away from them. Immediately her eyes landed on the new surfer, still talking to Nav, and she was quick to turn back to AJ to ask who he is. “Hey, who’s the new guy?”

Looking over his shoulder, AJ saw who she was talking about before realization dawned on him. “Oh, that’s Harry. He’s from England. A really nice guy, I bet you’d like him,” he winked, causing Y/N to look at him with squinted eyes and pursed lips.

Kalani nudged his side, giving him a weird look. “What? I’m just saying.”

Then, speak of the Devil, Nav and this Harry guy came walking over, joining the three as they stood around waiting for the announcement that the girls could head out. Y/N wasn’t exactly paying attention to her surroundings as she continued to calm herself down for the impending near future. It wasn’t until Harry had stood in front of her, that she was knocked out of her own thoughts.

She looked up at him, making eye contact and briefly getting her breath caught in her throat. When he was far away, it was hard to make out his facial features or what he exactly looked like. But being right in front of him, she was merely astonished at his beauty, but more so his green eyes that reflected the perfect amount of sunlight. His wet, brunette hair rested against his forehead and seemed to be drying a bit curly.

His head tilted slightly, an amused smirk inching up his face as he watched her reaction. Something tells her he’s used to this kind of reaction. “M’Harry.”

His hand came between the two of them, waiting for her to grasp it in a firm grip. Y/N was hesitant at first but finally took his hand and shook it gently while greeting herself before dropping her hand back down to her side. “Y/N.”

This is insanely awkward. Especially because her friends are just watching the exchange silently, as if they weren’t allowed to speak while the two introduced themselves.

Harry has heard of Y/N. It’s hard for anyone involved in the surfing business to not have heard of her. Aside from the jarring news from last year, she’s an excellent surfer and her name is always spreading around like wildfire. She’s part of the reason Harry decided to delve more into the professional surfing world, because he’s been itching to meet her.

Y/N is attractive, anyone with eyes knows that, but Harry wanted to meet her only because of her expansive skills in the water. Standing in front of her, he can’t deny her undying beauty -- and if he weren’t such a gentleman he’d probably be trying to woo her this very instant. But, her looks aren’t what draws him to her, and he decides to not think with his dick for once.

Before he gets the chance to say something else to her, they get notified that the girls should start heading out for their rounds. Y/N and Kalani grab their boards and tuck them under their arms before bidding their goodbyes to the boys and scurrying off to join the rest of the girls.

“Whipped already?” Nav jokes, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders and leading them to the sand where they’ll watch.

Y/N steps her toes into the water, basking in the cool feeling wrapping around her toes and surging up her body. She rolls her neck feeling it crack softly before rolling her shoulders back and taking in her umpteenth deep breath of the day. Her and Kalani looked at each other, nodding with smiles on their faces before they walked deeper in the shallow water until it reached the middle of their thighs before dropping their boards down and paddling out.

At the sight of a small wave heading toward her, Y/N dipped herself beneath the water just to wet her hair. It felt refreshing again to feel the salt coax her skin for the second time that day, as if it never left. When she greeted the air again, she could immediately feel the rays of the sun bouncing off of her skin, illuminating her in a heavenly glow, like the star she is. The spotlight is on her as she aims herself for the peak of the impending wave, nabbing the first ride of the girls’ round.

Back on the beach, her mom’s fingers were crossed, her dad’s breath was caught in his lungs, and Harry’s eyes were fixated on her figure as she jumped up on the belly of her board. Her legs kept her balance against the rough matter below her. Due to the steep wall of the wave, Y/N had to act quick and rational in order to keep control, and started off with an off-the-lip, which kept her parallel with the wave before she moved herself down and carved herself back into the energy zone. 

Because it was a smaller wave, she could only go on for so long before she tipped herself off the board and fell down into the water. Everyone waited with bated breaths and kept their eyes on the area she sunk beneath the blue, before sighing in relief to see her head pop back up. Harry could see the joy wipe over everyone’s faces, replacing the worry that was once there as they hugged one another. He could tell Y/N has such a good support system, and it only urges him more to want to be a part of her life.

Of this life.

❊ ❊

“You guys did so good! We’re so proud,” Y/N’s mom gushed as she pulled her into a warm embrace -- a hug that holds more meaning than just being proud. Her mom was relieved. Grateful. Happy. She’s able to hold her daughter one more time, and that’s all she could ask for. “It’s going to be a good year for all you kids.”

Y/N felt like she was on cloud nine. She was elated, overjoyed, ecstatic, riding such a good high. Her comeback couldn’t have gone any better and she’s just so, so happy. Arriving at the beach she was nervous and anxious and was two seconds away from caving to her fears and running away. Now, as she walks arm-in-arm with her best friend away from the water for the night, she’s laughing a genuine laugh and her veins are currently pumping excitement rather than nerves. 

AJ locked his arm over her shoulders, the three of them linked just like they always are as they head towards Y/N’s family van. But, instead of like other times, this time they have a tag-a-long trailing behind them. It’s sort of like a tradition where after every competition, all of the families join together and head to dinner at their usual restaurant. Nav couldn’t come because he had his own family matters to attend to but Harry was more than willing to accept the offer. He says he came to Hawaii alone and that he had nothing better to do, but his intense stare on Y/N when he accepted the offer says that’s not the only reason he was so quick to join.

It was also part of the tradition that they ride together in the van, 1) because it was the most spacious vehicle where they were able to ride together and 2) because Y/N’s parents are pretty fun to be around. They blasted the best music and made the best jokes, causing not one dull car ride. When they filed in, AJ and Kalani pushed themselves to the back seat, leaving Y/N and Harry to sit in the separate middle row chairs.

“Oh! Harry, I’m sorry, I forgot to ask. Does your family want to join us? They’re more than welcome to,” Y/N’s mom looked over her shoulder in the passenger seat.

He cleared his throat, looking up from his phone and sitting up a bit in his seat, an uncomfortable look on his face. “M’here alone, actually.”

Before anyone could ask any questions, AJ clapped Harry’s shoulder, saying, “We’re your temporary family now, man.” Despite being competitors, it seems the two of them really hit it off and AJ genuinely meant what he said about being Harry’s family. Though, everyone knows the main reason he said it was to diminish the rising tension.

“Thanks, mate,” Harry returned, fist bumping AJ. And during the little exchange, Harry caught eyes with Y/N, catching her eyes wandering around his profile and facial features, causing her to look away quickly and look out the window as if the view was something spectacular. She could hear him snicker quietly, and just when she thinks the coast is clear, she slyly looks back at him just to find out he’s already staring at her.

They really love staring at one another apparently.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Y/N and Harry were pushed to the back of the group -- not really by choice but somehow it ended up that way -- and neither of them really made any moves to break the silence between them. Y/N because she was nervous, and Harry because he wanted her to be the first to speak. And it just so happened that when they were sat at a table, they were left with the last two remaining chairs that also happened to be right next to each other. Y/N couldn’t figure out if they were doing this on purpose or it was by coincidence, but she can tell Harry doesn’t mind.

She’s not one to be nervous around guys, but there’s something about Harry and how he is so blatantly interested in her that makes her wary of talking to him. Kalani sat across the table from her, and when they made eye contact, they had a silent conversation about how Y/N should grow the balls and actually talk to him. Of course Y/N refused, which earned her a kick to the shin in retaliation, which then caused her to let out a yelp of pain and made everyone look at her confused and worried. 

“Sorry, hit my knee on the table,” she brushed it off, glaring at her best friend the moment everyone turned away and continued with their own conversations. 

Being as slick as possible, Kalani directed her eyes to Harry when he wasn’t looking so Y/N could see her, before turning to AJ and talking to him about something completely irrelevant. Again, Y/N and Harry were stuck in this silence. She’s not exactly sure why she can’t just start a conversation, but he’s kind of intimidating and she’s afraid of embarrassing herself, especially in front of her family. 

Pursing her lips and looking down to her lap, Y/N finally turned to give Harry her attention, noticing how he was staring into space, looking completely lost in this foreign setting. “So, uh, where exactly are you from?”

Harry was quick to turn his head to Y/N, waiting and waiting and waiting for the moment she would say something. “A small town in Cheshire. Northwest of London, if that helps.”

“That’s a pretty far trip to take alone,” she nods, licking her bottom lip before gently biting down on it. As much as she thinks of herself as an independent person, she’s also an extreme homebody and could never imagine going anywhere without anyone by her side, whether it be family or friends.

He merely shrugs in response, “M’better off alone.”

Y/N cocked her head to the side while looking at him, letting his words sizzle inside her mind as she tries to overanalyze him in the mere hours she’s known him. She turned her gaze down to her hands that were intertwined in her lap, mulling over her next words to say. She doesn’t know him, but she knows the feeling of being alone. And being alone, no matter how appealing it could sound, never works out in the end. People aren’t meant to live alone. It goes against the natural order of life, and just hearing him say he prefers being alone breaks her heart just the tiniest bit. “No one’s better off alone. Everyone needs someone eventually.”

Little does she know, is that she is his someone. Or, at least that’s what Harry’s hoping. He thinks he’s crazy for being so enthralled by someone so suddenly and so strongly, but Harry’s always been one to trust his gut. His plushie but toned gut was screaming at him that this girl is just meant to be in his life. Maybe meant to be his, but he won’t push his luck. “Guess we’ll have to wait an’ see.”

They both smiled softly at one another, a small blush creeping up Y/N’s cheeks for the umpteenth time that day. “I guess we will.”

❊ ❊

It had been a little over two weeks since qualification day. Her days hadn’t changed much in regards to her schedule; Waking up at the ass crack of dawn and heading straight into the water and staying in practically until the sun was set. But, there was one slight shift in her day, and that was the now familiar face of Harry popping in everyday, either physically or in her mind.

It was safe to say Harry was quickly adapting to the three friends, merging with them seamlessly; As if he had been part of this little group since he was a child. It’s not like any of them minded, especially AJ because he was happy to get another guy around. Their friend Nav wasn’t exactly a permanent part of their little group because he belonged to everyone and no one, but Harry stuck around them like glue and AJ was so grateful. 

Y/N’s grateful because now she isn’t a third-wheel.

Harry and her aren’t exactly buddy-buddy, but it definitely helps having someone else around for movie night so Y/N isn’t stuck watching her best friend’s all cuddled up together and hearing the occasional kiss they would share.

Though, Harry has made it known time and time again that he really wants to be buddy-buddy with her. And Y/N’s not exactly sure why she won’t give him what he wants, but for some reason she loses all comprehensive skills and becomes a blubbering, nervous mess around Harry whenever he brings up his interest in her. So, she’s successfully avoided all buddy-buddy conversations with him by bringing up mundane things instead. Like, why she decided to paint her nails blue, or why she absolutely despises white socks.

She thought she was doing a pretty skillful job too. But, after the first two times she avoided giving a yes or no answer to going on a date with him, Harry purposely would ask her just to hear what other obscure distractions she could come up with. He loved hearing Y/N talk, and without her knowing, he was getting to know her piece by piece, inch by inch, and he was loving it.

Though, a guy’s ego can only take so many rejections before he gives up completely. And just when he was ready to call it quits and accept that she wasn’t interested in him like he was her, the unexpected happened.

Y/N agreed to a date.

Well, kind of.

It was time for the Hawaiian Pro. The official first event of the Vans Triple Crown. It was taking place at Ali’i Beach Park in Hale’iwa, one of the most intense surfing spots filled with waves of  many different faces. Of course, this is when Y/N’s nerves really started to kick in. Qualification day isn’t anywhere near as filled with people as the actual events are, and her nerves have seemed to kick it into high gear. It doesn’t help that the Hawaiian Pro is when her life changed a year ago. She could hear people whispering about her, wondering if she’s going to wipe out again or if this time she’ll stay under the water. Her mind was already frenzied enough, but nothing completes the cycle like a panic attack and the embarrassment of many on-goers witnessing said panic attack.

She almost backed out. How is she meant to be the best when her body is afraid of taking its final breath? The tide was high and the waves showed no mercy. How is she meant to challenge that? How is she meant to control the water beneath her when she can’t even control her own thoughts?

It was getting to be too much for her. This entire time leading up to the Triple Crown she’s denied her fear and her anxiety, telling herself she’ll get over it. She’s been doing good all year, so what makes now any different? But it is very different. The calm atmosphere of her backyard is no match for the rambunctious setting of the Triple Crown. And she’s a fool for thinking differently.

So, she was panicking.

Y/N couldn’t even get up from her seat in her parent’s van because she was so shaky. Her father held her close, easing her back to reality and away from her tortuous mind. Of course, he offered to drive them back home and away from the competition, telling her again that she didn’t have to prove herself to anyone. But, she declined again. Because she needed to prove it to herself. She’s stronger than her mind lets on, and she needs to make sure she knows that.

When she slid off her board and sank her toes back into the warm sand after a very successful first round, landing her in the lead spot, she was finally able to breathe again.

People congratulated her on her comeback, astonished to see her doing better than ever before. Her parents embraced her with love and elation, so beyond happy to see her laughing and smiling and enjoying herself now that she’s progressing forward. Kalani of course is her number one supporter, practically jumping on her and screaming in her ear about how happy she is for her best friend.

Everyone was making their rounds hugging Y/N, and then it was Harry’s turn. They didn’t exactly embrace like the rest of them had, but he threw his arm over her shoulders and pulled her to his side, squeezing her to him softly before looking down at her and saying, “Absolutely wicked, love. Gotta teach me some of y’fancy moves.”

“You sure? They’re really only meant for the pros,” she teased, biting at her bottom lip to conceal her laughter as he scoffed.

“”Ey, no one likes a narcissist,” he shoved her shoulder softly, rolling his eyes as her laughter rang through his ears. “But, whaddya say? M’gonna need a good teacher if I wanna make it to the big leagues.”

Y/N simply shrugs without really thinking much into it, “Sure.” Her mind didn’t exactly process what she had agreed to until later that night, before she dozed off into her temporary slumber. Her eyes shot open and her body sat upright as an over dramatic gasp was inhaled into her lungs. Her mind had been all over the place with the competition that she didn’t realize that she had agreed to being alone with Harry for the first time since they'd met. Immediately she texted and called Kalani, to which she got laughed at in return.

“Kalani, this isn’t a laughing matter!”

A few miles away, Harry was snuggled into his bedsheets, a bright smile stretched across his face as he reveled in the idea that he finally was going to be alone with Y/N since the first time they’d met. His heart was jumping and his stomach was fluttering as he envisioned her pretty face behind his eyelids before he drifted off into his dream with her. 

“It so is! C’mon, Y/N, what have you got to lose? You have the same interests, he’s funny, he’s hot, and he clearly is into you. Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.”

Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.

That’s the thought that stuck in her mind, lingering around as she finally fell asleep, and then when she woke up, and when she was eating breakfast; And doing her chores; And hanging out with Kalani; And eating dinner; And then falling asleep again. Y/N didn’t even realize she had spent so much of her past year focusing on her career and health that she hasn’t done much of anything else.

She’s so grateful to be alive, but she’s hardly given herself the chance to live again.

Before her accident, she was always up for adventure and was always the life of any party. After her accident, she hasn’t even been to a party. She hasn’t been in a relationship in years, she hasn’t gone on a date in a long time, and she can’t even remember the last time she’s had sex or kissed a guy. She’s been so focused on her redemption, that she can’t remember the last time she was genuinely happy.

Going on this date, but also not a date -- but also clearly a date -- with Harry just may provide her with that. And she owes it to herself, to her past self, that her accident isn’t going to shape her life anymore.

Plus, she really enjoys Harry’s company. And even if she doesn’t show it so bluntly like him, she really likes him too.

The next day, Y/N and Kalani had gone out shopping, enjoying a nice girls day out. They had bought a few new varieties of swimsuits (as if they didn’t have enough) and a few other types of clothes, got some lunch, and even found time to watch a movie. And they did all of this right up until the moment Y/N decided it was time to text Harry. 

She wasn’t sure how to go about this, because she’s never really asked anyone on a date before, or followed up with plans (?) about a date. Kalani kept urging her to just rip the bandaid off and to get it over with, saying something along the lines of, “You’re not getting any younger. Plus, I think he’d slip right off his board at the sight of you in that new yellow suit you got.” It was just a simple bikini, but it showcased the majority of her skin that essentially left little to the imagination.

But, the thing is, whenever Y/N gets into the water around people, she can’t help but cover her torso with a wet-shirt, insecure of the imperfections that lined her skin. It’s rare she can bear to look at her skin, so she only assumes no one else would want to either. So, she’s not so sure he’ll fall off his board at the sight of her, but the thought is nice.

Y/N pulled out her phone and hovered over his contact for a good amount of time before Kalani grew impatient and snatched the phone from her friend’s hand. They wrestled around with each other to try and gain custody of the phone, but finally in the end Y/N was able to hold her phone tight in her hands before declaring, “Okay! Okay! I’m texting, I’m going.”

Kalani peaked over Y/N’s shoulder as she watched her type the allusive message to Harry, a proud smile carving over her lips as she watched her break down a barrier she had subconsciously put up. It isn’t by any means important to be in a relationship or to have a boyfriend, but Kalani knows deep down that Y/N was wishing to have that special connection only a relationship could provide -- a connection outside of the realm of friendships.

“There,” Y/N huffed, shoving the screen of her phone in her best friend’s face.

hii, if you’re still up to learn from a true professional, I’m available tonight :)

It wasn’t even ten seconds later that she got a reply.

Shit, I’ll be your best student, babe. I know a perfect spot, I’ll be at yours in an hour.

It was kind of amusing to Y/N that he said he knows a perfect spot, as if she hadn’t been living on this island all her life and practically knows it like that back of her hand. But, that miniscule thought was pushed to the very depths of her mind as panic coursed through her as she realized what she was getting herself into. She’s going on a date, not a date, but also a date with Harry, and a small hour wasn’t enough time to gain her composure. 

Fuck.

❊ ❊

It’s no surprise to Y/N when Harry shows up to her house a minute early. She’s half convinced that he had been waiting outside of her house for the past fifteen minutes until he finally stepped up on to the porch of her house, knocking rapidly on the door. It wasn’t an emergent knock that caused some sort of panic, but it was a frantic knock that screamed ‘let’s get the show on the road.’

When she opened the door, both of their breaths were robbed from their lungs. Y/N essentially looked like she always did but something about her glowed differently to Harry; maybe it was because she’s his for the night. For his eyes only. Just him and her. He was awestruck. 

Harry essentially looked like he always did but something about him radiated differently to Y/N. The same little smirk was nestled in its usual spot, but this one held a different meaning. It looked the same, but maybe it was different because it was just her and him tonight. He’s hers for the night. For her eyes only. Y/N was nervous.

Y/N left her board out on her porch so she wouldn’t have to walk around back when he got here, but she was silently wishing she didn’t so she’d get just a couple more seconds to get herself together. She just kept chanting, “It’s not a date!” in her head, in hopes it would make her feel better.

It didn’t.

Harry saw her board and tucked it under his left arm as he threw his right one over her shoulders guiding her his mode of transportation. It also wasn’t a surprise to Y/N to see Harry rolling up in a light yellow Jeep; the top down and the doors off, typical of any surfer dude, no matter where they originate.

“Her name’s Betty,” he smiled, walking around the back and giving her a quick tap on her rear end before stepping up to straddle Y/N’s board safely and securely.

Sliding through the empty passenger door to take her seat, Y/N was greeted by a familiar smell, a smell she could only associate with Harry. And even if she could never admit it, she loved it a lot. It was mouth-watering and intoxicating, and simply put, it was Harry. Even with the open atmosphere of the car, it was still drenched in this specific smell, and Y/N can’t help but giggle at the image of Harry spritzing whatever cologne into the car before arriving at her house.

A few moments later, Harry slid into the driver side, placing the sunglasses that were sitting on the dash over his eyes, shoving the key into the ignition and starting them on their journey to whatever beach he had envisioned. On the ride there, over the course of a few right turns and lefts and different exits on the highway, Y/N surprisingly had no idea where they were going. Did she think maybe he was gonna murder her? A bit. But, she felt comfortable around Harry. So, she felt it in her gut that she was going to come out alive from this… event.

When they got to the beach, it was about thirty minutes from Y/N’s house, and she had no idea where they were. They had to walk a short path to meet sand and ocean, but once they made it past the clearing, Y/N was in awe of the site ahead of her. People could think that seeing the ocean every day ruins the peaceful and magical aura surrounding it. But, Y/N never gets sick of greeting it. The sun was beginning to set, and the water was glowing with a yellow-pink hue by the horizon that blended into a bright blue by the shore. The cliff sides around them guarded the little alcove, feeding into the tranquil atmosphere.

“How did you find this place?” Y/N wondered as she kicked off her sandals, and shimmied her shorts down her legs before kicking them over her sandals. The yellow bottom of her bikini was visible, and she turned her head just as Harry took a large gulp at the sight of her in front of him; Just for him. Her blue wet-shirt stayed on though.

It piqued Harry’s interest as to why she never took off her shirt. He understood for the competitions, but even when it was just a casual outing, just him and her, or them and their friends, she always kept it on. It wasn’t his place to ask, but he wished she would’ve broken this barrier down just this once. Just for him. “Tha’s a secret for me to know and you to maybe find out.”

Y/N let out a giggle - why? she didn’t know - and turned her attention back to the boy that brought her here, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she caught Harry taking off his white t-shirt, now only clad in his little pink shorts next to his little pink board. His skin looked extra dewy, and his tattoos seemed to glint under the setting sun. Before she could devour him with her eyes, she picked up her board and took it with her, running down to the water and shouting, “C’mon slow-poke, gotta get in the water before the sun sets!”

It wasn’t a surprise to Y/N that this didn’t keep on track of a teaching lesson. Harry doesn’t need to be taught, he’s amazing on his own. He pulled off his own tricks that Y/N didn’t even know the name of, and she was asking him to let her in on his little secrets. He locked his lips in return, throwing the imaginary key somewhere over his shoulder, “Y’think I’m g’na tell you? I’m far too narcissistic to let you beat me at my own game.”

“Who said I’m gonna beat you?”

“Have you met you?”

There’s a reason Y/N’s name circulates throughout people’s brains, why her name is common in any Hawaiian household, why Harry was itching to meet her. She’s good at what she does. Insanely good that it’s kind of concerning. Not everyone can come back from a life-altering experience, but Y/N took those stereotypes and crushed them beneath the tail of her infamous yellow surfboard. She reveled in the doubts and came back stronger than ever. Of course she would beat him at his own game. She’s the only one who could.

There wasn’t any telling how long they had been riding wave after wave, in the water with no one else but just each other. But, the sun almost halfway past the horizon line was a good giveaway. They were probably nearing the two hour mark, and they knew they couldn’t stay out here all night, but Jesus, how they wished they could. Y/N wasn’t expecting to be so content, thinking this would be some strange, awkward, uncomfortable time they would want to forget about the moment they left each other’s sides.

It’s the opposite.

Just for him. Just for her.

They both laid on their boards, limbs sprawled out and dangling into the water as their bodies shut down in exhaustion. Y/N can’t remember the last time she went so long without taking at least a ten minute break. Her body was most definitely not used to it as she felt her back mold into her little yellow board, accepting the relaxation. When she finally opened her eyes back up, she turned her head to the side, admiring Harry’s profile as his arms were pulled over his head, the skin of his torso being stretched, which also stretched the ink that adorned him.

Y/N got lost in the mirage that is Harry, that she didn’t even realize he had turned his head and caught her ogling. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that her eyes snapped to his, heat traveling up through her body and rushing to her cheeks. “M’eyes are up here, love.”

“Uh- right. Yeah, I know.”

“Cool. Hey d’y’wanna play twenty questions?” He asked, sitting up to straddle his board and paddling himself around so he was facing her. 

Y/N squinted her eyes, “Are we children?”

“I mean, I guess not. Doesn’t stop my five year old humor though,” he smiled, kicking his foot up to splash her with an inkling of water as his childlike, petty comeback. “You ask first.”

Y/N pushed her hand through the water to spray him in an ounce of sea salt before turning her head back to the sky, contemplating her first question. “Mm… favorite color?” She already knew the answer.

“And you asked me if we’re children? C’mon, darling, know you wanna know more than tha’. Pink. What was your first impression of me?” He wiggled his eyebrows, even though she couldn’t see his face. This has been one of those things that’s been nagging at the back of his mind ever since they first met. Their first encounter wasn’t awkward per-se, but the fleeting moment of introduction wasn’t exactly one worth remembering either. But, Harry was always going to remember it. And depending on Y/N’s answer, he hopes she will too.

At this, she turned her head back to Harry, hand covering her eyes as the sun glared at them over the reflective water. It was a sight to behold, seeing Harry glow in the golden hour light. “Intimidating. But, also unique,” she began, moving to sit herself up and paddle her board around so she was now facing him. “You remind me of a singular cloud in an otherwise clear sky. You’re not meant to be there, yet you’re not out of place.”

Harry sat for a moment, staring. Completely in awe. Head over heels. Never would’ve guessed those words to be the ones tumbling from her lips. It was the way she didn’t hesitate in her sentence, as if those words had been formulated a while ago and just now was she able to spew it from her wordbank. Just for him. “Fuck, that was beautiful. Your turn.”

“Do you really think you’re better off alone?”

Harry pursed his lips, looking off into the distance for a brief moment before shrugging, “I do. But, I don’t. If it comes down to going back to my family and friends from home or being alone, I’ll choose being alone.” And he wanted to sprinkle in the little bonus that he doesn’t feel alone when he’s around her, but something tells him that’ll just turn her away. “What’re you so afraid of?”

It’s a brash question Y/N wasn’t expecting to be thrown at her so suddenly. She has a mix of answers, and there’s a specific one flashing in her mind like a bright, neon yellow sign, but she’s not certain how comfortable she is with telling him yet. Though, she notices that whatever question she could throw his way, he’d answer it truthfully, not scared of opening himself up, just for her. She wants to be brave like that, and maybe she can be, but she’s not sure how.

It comes as a surprise to her when she does say, “I’m scared of going through everything that happened last year all over again. Everyone’s afraid of dying, or at least most people are, but experiencing death… there’s really no coming back from that. ”

“Experiencing it?” He looks at her wide-eyed.

“What, you haven’t heard of what happened last year?” She looks at him, eyebrows scrunched. 

“Only know you had some accident. No offense, but I didn’t really bother myself with reading the fine print,” he shrugs, running his pruney fingers through his salted hair. He didn’t know if he wanted to read it, especially not with the sudden news that apparently this very alive, lively girl in front of him… died? He doesn’t think he could stomach reading about that.

Y/N hasn’t met a single person who hasn’t heard about what happened to her. Or at least the details of it. In reality she doubts anyone outside of Hawaii knows of her existence, but in her world it was the biggest news to affect the state in a while -- aside from, like, actual serious matters, her accident was up there on the news.

She evades his second question though, not wanting to cough up the traumatic details of her past; not yet at least. “Well, it’s my turn anyway. Why surfing?”

“I could just look it up, but I get it; you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he gave her a playful look, pursing his lips while giving her a pointed stare. “It’s different. England isn’t known for surfing. It’s known for rain and football. But, with every possible detail of m’life, I wanted to make sure I was different. My dad wanted me to become a professional footy player, so I said no. M’mum wanted me to go and get a degree and a real job. I didn’t want that. So, I turned to surfing,” he swung his arms around, gesturing to the vast sea and the board below him.

“Plus, it’s given me an excuse to leave home and come here. And y’know, so I could meet you.”

Y/N felt a small blush creep up her skin again, her eyes shooting down to her lap and her feet that were distorted under the water. Harry’s infatuation with the girl isn’t a secret, but anytime he purposely makes it known, it’s like a little secret that she’s unsure if she’s supposed to know or not. “Meet me?”

Harry kicked his foot up again so water would splash at her. “Uh-uh, my turn,” he laughed, shaking his head. He knew she thought she was slick at the way she bit her lip, containing her laughter. If she wants to play by the rules of the nonsensical game, then so will he. “Sunrise or sunset?”

“Sunset. Favorite song?” She wanted to reel back from the serious talk for a moment.

“Too many to choose from. Favorite movie?” He wanted to know every nitty-gritty detail about her.

She pondered for a moment, “Mamma Mia.”

“No shit! Me too!” His mouth dropped in shock, his hand flying up to his chest. 

“Really?”

“No,” he shook his head, immediately blocking the massive splash he sensed coming. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, huffing at him whilst crossing her arms over her torso, “Are you always so insufferable?”

“S’my middle name, babe. You hungry?” He laid himself down on his board on his belly, paddling himself to face the beach, ready to make a head start for the beach. Y/N hummed a response, following in suit and settling her stomach against the belly of the board and pushing herself to land. “Cool, let’s go get something to eat then I’ll take you home.”

Y/N’s legs felt weak, yet appreciative back on the sand. It felt like she was walking on Jell-O as she went to pick up her towel and clothes. Looking down to her shirt, she knew it was out of the question to let him see her take it off. And she could turn her back so he wouldn’t see her front -- whether or not it’s clad in a bikini top -- but even then her heart raced at the thought. She held her t-shirt in her hands and thought it over for a moment before blurting, “Could you turn around please?”

Harry looked up from checking his phone quickly, tilting his head in confusion before looking down to the shirt in her hands. The dots are connected and the bright neon pink sign in his head is telling him to listen to her, and not to question it. So, he doesn’t. Just for her. It’s still unbeknownst to Harry why she never takes her shirt off, but he knows better than to think with his dick, and accepts her wishes, turning his back to her. 

Y/N lets out a small breath of relief, grateful he didn’t question her on it. She’s quick to rip off her shirt and pat dry her wet skin before hastily throwing on her dry one, giving Harry the OK to turn back around. 

“Sorry, I just… I’m not comfortable with anyone seeing my, uh, my scar,” she mumbles, nervously moving her hair from one shoulder over to the other. Harry shrugs in response, picking his board up from the ground and wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they began their walk back to his car.

“You don’ have to explain yourself to me, babe,” he smiled down at her, squeezing her to his side softly.

Y/N looked up at him, and she’s sure that if she could see herself right now, her eyes would be twinkling in delight, with adoration. Just for him. “Thank you.”

They didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, walking the distance to his lonesome Jeep in peace. The silence gave Y/N time to think and to mull over all of the gushy feelings she was feeling inside about the guy beside her. She had no reason not to like him, realizing it was only fear that was pushing her away. But, this night displayed a soft side to Harry that she fell head over heels for. His smooth, easy-going approach to life, mixed in with respect for her, and a hint of witty humor was enough to tell her how she truly feels about him. And she’s scared, not because she’s afraid, but because she’s not.

Y/N can find herself easily opening up to Harry quicker than she has anyone else because she trusts him. She can just tell he’s got nothing to hide, so in-turn she wants to be the same. She doesn’t want to cower away, but revel in happiness. Because she deserves it.

Harry quickly secured the boards back into their previous spots before sliding into the driver side and whisking them away from their little getaway. The wind swept through their hair and chilled their still slightly wet skin, causing goosebumps to trail up Y/N’s arm as chills raked through her body. This time around in the car they both were more laid back, not singing along to the songs playing on the radio but rather just listening and taking in the blissful atmosphere they’ve created.

There’s been one question dancing across her mind though ever since he brought up the little game of twenty questions. It was the first one to pop up in her mind when she was thinking of something juicy to ask. She didn’t want to ask it though, in fear of what his answer would be. But, now she’s not afraid. She’s curious though.

“Is this a date?” She queried, turning the volume of the radio down a bit so he could hear her and vice versa. 

Harry glanced at her through his peripheral, one eyebrow cocking up on his forehead, “Is the sky blue?”

“I mean, right now it’s like orange-blue,” she retorted, looking at the newly sun-ridden sky that blended shades of orange into the usual night blue. 

“Brainiac. There’s your answer. It’s however you want to look at it,” he digressed, reaching over to pat her thigh - in more of a friendly manner rather than sensual.

She appreciated his answer, absolutely adoring the fact that he wasn’t putting pressure on her about anything. It was hard to comprehend just how nice he truly is, and how someone could be so perfect. She couldn’t see a flaw in his looks or his personality or his morals, and all she could wonder was how someone like him could possibly like someone like her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Harry.”

He side glanced at her again, this time raising both of his eyebrows in puzzlement, “I’ll take tha’ as a good thing?”

“It’s good. It’s… it’s a good thing.”

❊ ❊

The two of them had discussed where they wanted to go, neither of them wanting to decide and going back and forth with one another, saying, “No, you decide,” “No you.”

Y/N was never good at decisions, especially mundane ones like where to eat. She always lets Kalani decide because she could eat anything, and it’s her friend that’s the picky one. But, Harry is the same way. Whatever is put in front of him, he could probably eat (except for pickles, he absolutely hates pickles).

They settled for pizza. And it was going to be Harry’s first time trying a slice of Hawaiian.

Y/N hates Hawaiian slices, finding the sweetness of the pineapple and the savor of the ham unsettling atop her pizza. It sends her taste buds into shock and her mind into a meltdown. But, she insisted he try it, because how could someone be in Hawaii and not try its state-named slice?

They sat at their little table in the corner of the restaurant that was alongside a window, giggling to themselves as they played a little game of eye-spy, waiting for their food. For some odd reason, Harry was really good at this game, always picking the hardest of objects to point out, always stumping a frustrated Y/N.

“You’re cheating.”

“How the fuck am I cheating?”

“Dunno, you just are.”

And in retaliation to her accusation, Harry pointed to her shirt, stating she got a little soda on it, causing her to look down to her chest and see nothing but finger as he flicked her nose. “Too easy. Sore loser.”

Y/N huffed, sticking her tongue out at him. The playful banter between them was the best part of their days lately. Before Y/N even realized her feelings for Harry, she always looked forward to what they would bicker about -- in a friendly matter of course. Now, she constitutes that to just wanting to see him because she really enjoys his company, and him. 

It’s been a long time since she’s felt this way about anyone, and she’s sort of glad she gets to feel this way about Harry. He’s an enigma, but a good one. She’s totally transfixed by him and she never wants this euphoria to end. He radiates this bright and bubbly energy that lifts her mood whenever she’s around him, and she’s afraid of losing that. But, she chooses not to dwell on the what-if, instead completely basking in the present and his gooey aura of happiness. 

When the food finally came out, they both were quick to stuff their faces, their stomachs practically turning inside-out from how hungry they were. It came to no surprise to Harry that he was absolutely in love with this Hawaiian slice, already looking forward to ordering two more. 

Y/N looked at him a tad worried. He was scoffing down three slices as if there were no tomorrow, all within a matter of two minutes. She was slightly worried he was going to reach over and take her dinner, because that’s how hungry he seemed to be. But, he should know better than to get between Y/N and her food. Like the one time he tried to take some of her fries, to which she punched him in the shoulder and then took them back.

“Hey, y’gonna eat that?” He points to her not yet touched slice of pizza, earning a glare that could kill in response. “Cool, you are, just making sure. Can’t let precious food go t’waste. It’s my turn for a question right?”

Y/N thinks back for a second to determine if he’s right or not, remembering she did ask a question last. She nodded her head before biting into her little piece of heaven. 

“Was it hard getting back in the water?”

She brought her napkin up to her mouth to wipe away the drop of sauce she felt on her cheek, mulling over her answer. “Kinda. I knew I had to eventually because it’s all I know, it was just a matter of when. My parents were terrified, and I mean I was too but I can’t let that dictate my future. I love surfing and nothing is going to take that away from me.”

Not even something as horrifying as death could take her away from her true love. Not until she’s truly six-feet under, riding silver waves in the silver palace. 

“Do you think you’re going to stay here? In Hawaii?” Y/N wondered, taking a sip of her Coke.

“Got nowhere else to be,” he shrugged, mindlessly tapping his fingers on the table in an arrhythmic pattern. “Home is where the heart is, right? Well, think mine’s here right now.” Across from her. Just for her.

Home is where the heart is.

“Does it count if my heart isn’t mine?”

Last year, Y/N was going about her day like she always did. She was fine, in tip-top shape just like she had been for the past twenty years of her life. The bright sun was out and shining over all of the surfers and onlookers, and it seemed just like every other regular day. She was paddling out into the water, and the perfect, golden first wave was approaching her. She pushed herself up onto her feet, balancing her body, in tune with the wave, executing a nearly perfect opener. Then, she felt her chest tighten and her body suddenly felt weak. Breathing rapidly grew difficult, causing her to instantly panic. She fell off her board, plummeting into the water, trying to gasp for air but choking on the sea that swimmed down her throat. 

Feeling herself sink as her chest was on fire was the last she remembered. The baby blue sky blended into black and that was it. Her life was over. 

Kalani was the one who went in after her, screaming for help as her best friend was blue in the face and not moving. 

Y/N suffered a heart attack. Apparently, she had a condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, that went unnoticed all her life. On this day, her heart had thickened extensively, making it difficult to pump blood to the rest of her body. The strain on her heart caused it to give out, right when she was feeling the high of riding a solid wave. She was pronounced dead for a total of forty-five seconds before EMT could revive her. Supposedly she’s lucky to be alive, because if not treated basically instantly, there’s a slim chance of survival. But, she was able to stick it out until the hospital.

Her heart was in brutal shape, so she was sent to the top of a donor waiting list. Y/N and her family are forever grateful for the team of doctors and nurses that stuck by her side, knowing she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them. Or her sheer luck.

Y/N felt a little crazy for feeling so comfortable spilling all of this information so suddenly to Harry, but at the same time she didn’t. And the best part about it is that none of it seems to freak Harry out. Nothing about who she is or how she is scares him. And that’s what makes her feel so comfortable. “My scar, it’s from a heart transplant. I had a heart condition all my life apparently. Then suddenly one day, it couldn’t handle it anymore, so it gave out. A girl named Shauna’s heart is keeping me alive right now.”

Harry didn’t blink for a whole minute.

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, trying to come up with something, anything to say to the girl across from him. But, he had nothing. He didn’t know what to say.

His silence was a little concerning to Y/N, making her wish she could just be swallowed whole by the ground below her. Was it too soon to drop the HT bomb? He was bound to find out eventually, and she figured it was best to rip the bandaid off on her own time rather than someone else telling him or him looking it up on Google. 

She’s kicking herself over it. 

Harry cleared his throat, taking a sip of his water before licking his lips and leaning back in his chair. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Y/N merely shrugged, “Don’t be. Shit happens. Who knows, if it never happened we may not be here now.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, his signature small smirk back on his face in its usual spot. He raised his glass, leaning it forward a bit toward her, stating, “Cheers to that, babe.” She raised her own glass and clinked it against his, a smile on her lips as she sucked up the remaining bit of her soda through her straw. She’s happy he didn’t turn and run away.

Cheers to that, babe.

By the time they both filled their guts to the point of feeling overstuffed, mindlessly chatting and spending time together, it was already past ten o’clock. The time had passed them by like it was nothing, but they weren’t necessarily complaining. The older couple next to them were though. Y/N had to pull Harry out of the restaurant before he bit the woman’s head off for how rude she was. That’s when they knew it was time to skedaddle.

Then they just drove around for another hour before Harry figured it was time to bring her home, much to his dismay. But, when her head lolled against the passenger seat headrest and her eyes would softly shut in exhaustion. He wanted desperately to reach over and tuck the loose strand of hair that fell out of her ponytail, behind her ear. He wanted to reach over and place his hand on her thigh as they drove down the highway, softly squeezing her skin before teasingly inching up towards her hidden gem.

Is it too soon to be in love?

It was like a slap in the face when Harry parked in front of her house. Reality stuck its nose into their little wonderland bubble, and unfortunately, they couldn’t push it back out.

Harry hopped out of his seat, unfastening her board from the trunk and tucking it under his arm as they walked side-by-side to her front door. He gently placed it down where he had initially found it earlier on, tucking his lips into his mouth as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

“I uh… I guess this is it. I had a really ni-”

“I’ve got one more question before you leave me,” he interrupted her little speech, stepping impossibly closer to her, barricading her between him and the banister on her porch. It wasn’t hard to notice the long stares at her shiny lips that glinted in the dull yellow glow of the light by the door. He purposely took extra time to rake over the features of her face before finally meeting her eyes. 

Y/N swallowed nothing but air as she softly bit at her bottom lip, “Yeah?”

She already knew his question.

“Can I kiss you?”

He already knew her answer.

Y/N slyly looked at him, bringing her hands up, a bit hesitant to rest on his shoulders. “I thought this wasn’t a date.”

“Sky’s blue.” Y/N looks up at the sky and notices it’s dark blue hue, twinkling stars layers on top, surrounding the fullest, brightest moon. It was a beautiful sky, perfect to share a first kiss under.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers as his hands came up to her hips. Her eyes fluttered shut, waiting for the climactic moment to overcome them, the air of the night chilling up her spine.

But, then she felt fiery, red hot as their lips locked together in a soft kiss. It was as soft as they felt towards one another. This giddy, slow paced, admiring kiss that had their insides melting but their hearts pounding. This kiss is exactly how Y/N images Harry. A pale yellow that’s not harsh on the eyes, that resonates happiness. Harry imagines it as a hot pink, one that takes his breath away and captures his mind.

It wasn’t long before it turned heated, Harry’s tongue sweeping into her mouth, and one of his hands travelling further south to grab hold of the flesh of her behind. Y/N let out a soft moan into his mouth as her hands tangled into his mound of curls, tugging softly on his roots.

Then the disturbing image of either one of her parents opening the front door at any moment flashed across her eyes, causing her to pull back, kissing his bottom lip softly before trailing her thumb over the swollen skin and opening her eyes to look into his gaudy, green ones.

The sounds of their breaths mingled together as tired smiles adorned their faces, little giggles leaving each of their mouths as they basked in what just happened. All Harry could think was, ‘It’s about damn time.’ All Y/N could think was, ‘Why did I ever push him away?’

“My turn,” she spoke after a few moments, standing up straighter and fixing her shirt around her body. “Pick me up tomorrow?”

A wide, shit-eating grin spread out across Harry’s face as he ran his hand through his mangled curls. “Sunrise. If y’not in this exact spot in the morning, m’knocking the door down and dragging you out by y’hair.” He hopped down off the porch, completely skipping the steps as the adrenaline of their first kiss kicked into his system.

“Sunrise,” she agreed.

He hopped back into the driver’s side of his Jeep, throwing his hand up in a goodbye wave as he sped away, already counting down the seconds until he would see his golden ray of bright and bubbly sunshine again. He’s not so sure if he’ll be able to fall asleep.

Y/N didn’t have that same problem. The moment she landed on her bed, her eyes shut faster than the speed of light, her last conscious thought being of Harry. Her smile never leaving her face. 

❊ ❊

Meeting at sunrise had become part of their routine. Not always to surf, but just to be together. Sometimes they surfed at their little alcove, other times they would watch the sun from her backyard, snuggled up in blankets on the beach. Or, they would surf, get breakfast, then fall back asleep in his bed until a more decent hour of morning.

But, their day always began at sunrise. It would be the equivalent to say that it also ended at sunset, but sunset was always too soon to part ways. 

This wasn’t an everyday occurrence, mostly at random. Except for Sundays. Sundays are specifically their day, as per request of Harry. How could he be in love with a girl that coined yellow as her color, that had a smile as bright as the huge burning star, that claimed golden hour was prime sun time, and not deem Sunday as their day? He didn’t put any second thought into it.

Despite their sort of fast paced first date, they’ve been taking things slow, truly getting used to the feel of one another over the course of the next couple of months. It wasn’t until a month later that Harry popped the question, officially making Y/N his forever buddy-buddy. Well, not necessarily forever, but they both know it’s basically forever.

Harry never wants to be alone again.

It wasn’t until the night after they became official that Y/N finally took her shirt off in front of him. She was going through one of her episodes, and Harry was the only one around who could help her. He managed to calm her down and bring her inside her house - that was empty because her parents had gone out for the night - and get her to the bathroom so she could take a shower.

Initially, he was going to let her get in by herself, knowing her boundaries in regards to her body and not seeing it. But, when he saw how worn down she looked, he whispered words of reassurance in her ear, asking her permission to help get her in the shower. He wasn’t thinking with his dick, he just wanted to help the girl that didn’t know how to help herself.

Y/N looked him in the eyes, nibbling softly on her bottom lip before averting her attention to her chest for a few moments. She trusts him, and if they’re bound to work out, she needs him to be comfortable with seeing all aspects of her both mentally and physically. Which includes her scar. 

So, she nods her head in agreement.

She lifted her arms and allowed him to remove her shirt, immediately feeling self-conscious. She couldn’t look him in the eyes as she stepped out of her shorts and underwear, going into the shower to avoid any lingering stares. Harry was quick to follow behind her, shutting the curtain after him. That’s when Y/N turned around and completely broke down, the tears that have been building behind her eyes finally pouring out. Harry wrapped her in his arms, letting her cry her eyes out for however long she needed.

When she stopped, Harry washed her hair, washed her body, washed away her bad thoughts, then washed himself as fast as he could so he could get her into her bed for the night. She snuggled up to his side, enjoying the warmness of his body that contrasted her cool ones. 

That night when her parents came home, they spotted Harry’s Jeep in front of their house. Though when the house was eerily quiet, and found the door to her bedroom slightly ajar, they peeked inside and saw the two of them fast asleep. Parents usually would get angry at the sight of their child in bed with someone of a different gender, but not Y/N’s parents.

Over the last two months, they saw their daughter break back out of her shell, slowly returning to her former self, and all because of Harry. They saw how happy she became whenever he was around, or they’d overheard happy she was when just talking about him to Kalani. How could they ever get angry at the fact that Y/N was happy?

With the blossoming of their relationship taking place at the same time as the Vans Triple Crown, word got around fast and soon enough they were the star couple leading the ranks in their respective divisions. The world -- or really the surfing world, because no one really pays attention to professional surfers, was in awe of them. They were the hype of the news, of the town, of the state. Rightfully so, because they’re awfully cute. 

It came as no surprise to everyone when the two were crowned the champions. The press went wild with this one, stating there was some scam happening behind the scenes, because what were the odds that this new star couple could both win? Or, how could Harry, a newbie, shoot his way up to the top in just one year? Or, how could Y/N dominate with her physical ailments? 

There wasn’t a hoax and there wasn’t any cheating. They both were just that good.

The day of the final competition, they may have worked just a little harder to land the championship title. Harry had picked Y/N up and they traveled to their secret hideaway bright and early in the morning. After being out at a party the night before, the two were in no shape to get in the water already, opting to snooze under the shade of a cliff on the beach for a little while. 

They didn’t sleep for very long before they got wrapped up in one another, indulging in a morning session of intimate love. They slept for maybe an hour before Y/N was ready to get her swim on, but Harry was the biggest sack of lazy mush that morning. He didn’t want to get up for nothing. He was laying down on his surfboard, completely comfortable under the shade. Y/N tried tugging on his arms to get him up, but he wouldn’t budge, a half-sleepy and dazed smile on his lips.

At one point he tugged her back, causing her to land on his lap, legs straddling his hips as her face crashed into his chest. His arms wrapped around her back, securing him to her as he said, “See? Isn’t this so much better than physical activity?”

“C’mon tubby, we got shit to do,” Y/N giggled, but Harry just held onto her tighter and nuzzled his cheek to the top of her head.

He hummed, “S’comfortable here.”

Y/N didn’t know what else to do, so the only maneuver left was bribery. Harry’s no different than any guy in the sense that once sex is brought into the mix, his ears perk up and his dick stiffens. So, Y/N was going to use that to her advantage. “If you get up, you can fuck me all night tonight.”

Harry was quick to sit up, her still in his lap, eyes squinted in suspicion. Y/N bit her lip to refrain from laughing, but she was mentally patting herself on the back. His hands shifted down her back to grab onto the flash of her behind, pulling her center closer to his and building up a bit of friction. “How about right now and tonight?”

“I can’t be exhausted for today, H,” Y/N rolled her eyes, moving to get herself off his lap, but he kept her grounded.

“You don’t ‘ave to get in the water now. You’ve practiced, you’re prepared, you got this. The championship is practically in your hands already,” he disclosed, peppering kisses up the side of her neck, a few across her jawline, and then landing on her lips.

Even if that may be true, she doesn’t want that to stop her from putting effort and time into winning. “Harry…” she started, getting lost in the feel of his lips suckling a lovebite right in the crook of her neck, her most sweet spot. He lifted his hips up slightly, pushing against her heat, eliciting the smallest moan from her mouth.

“Bet y’soaking your suit. Can I see?”

They only have a limited amount of time before they need to get to the Northshore at Ehukai Beach Park for the competition. It was about a forty-five minute drive alone. But, Harry’s lips and fingers were way too persuasive, so Y/N nodded her head.

“Good girl.”

He lifted her up so her back was now against the belly of his pink board, her legs immediately wrapped around his broad shoulders as he placed a chaste kiss to her clothed core. She whined as he hooked his fingers into her bikini bottoms, dragging them tortuously slow down her legs. His eyes immediately attracted themselves to her glistening slit, her wetness practically inviting him in. “So fucking pretty, baby.”

Harry’s hands pushed her legs as far apart as they would go, licking a fat stripe up from her little hole to her sensitive clit. Y/N threw her head back as he focused his attention on her clit, swirling his tongue around the little bud before sucking it into his mouth. She was a whimpering mess, but that earned her a smack on the ass and a first warning from Harry.

“No one’s around. Let me hear you loud and clear,” he gave her a pointed look, keeping their eye contact as he went a little further south, pushing the tip of his tongue into her cunt. Y/N tried closing her legs around his head but Harry just pushed them open further, keeping a firm grip on her thighs that were bound to leave bruises. Bruises just for her. 

Her jaw fell slack, moans tumbling past her pink lips louder and louder. Her nails dug into his shoulders, most likely leaving scratches he’ll find later when they’re stinging in the shower. Just for him.

Y/N was growing restless as he inserted his middle and ring finger inside of her, pushing and pulling them at an intense pace that caused her toes to curl in the sand by his hips. When he managed to push his index finger in alongside the other two, Y/N began to see stars at the stretch of her walls.

“So tight f’me. Imagine it was my cock instead. Would feel so good and full, but you’d be too exhausted for later, hm?” He cooed, letting her adjust to the extra digit inside of her before fucking her harder and faster than before. He kissed up her tummy that was visible from under her shirt before landing his forehead against hers.

His free hand grabbed a hold of her jaw, making her face him which caused her eyes to open up quickly, locking eye contact with one another. “S’a shame. M’so hard, like a fucking rock. But you’ll be too tired.”

Teasingly, Y/N nodded her head in agreement, earning a hard glare from her lover. At this, he stopped the movement of his fingers, slowly pulling them out of her. Y/N’s mouth opened wide, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion as Harry sucked his fingers past his lips, indulging in her sweetness that tasted like a little sliver of heaven. 

“Wh-wha…?”

“Close y’mouth, Y/N. Gonna catch flies,” he smirked, reaching over for her bikini bottoms and sliding them back up her legs until they were nestled against her soaking wet, throbbing pussy. “Said it y’self. Can’t be exhausted for the finale today, gotta be quick on your feet and coasting the gnarliest waves. C’mon slow poke, gotta get some practice in.”

So, Y/N was pissed off to say the least. And because of this, she was extra determined to push herself as far as she could to come out on top today. Harry on the other hand, well he was just mad that he had an insane hard-on that his own girlfriend didn’t want to tend to. He should’ve expected his little stunt wouldn’t go over nicely, but the look on her face when he stopped was absolutely priceless.

When it was announced that Y/N and Harry had won in their divisions everyone was beyond elated at the news, cheers and hugs and kisses spread all around the group. Though when it was their turn to congratulate each other, they looked at each other, small smiles on their faces before they turned to make conversation with someone else. That didn’t stop them from reaching for one another though, slyly interlocking their hands together.

They were whisked away quickly for pictures, holding their trophies high in the air, the biggest smiles on their faces. Y/N’s parents were cheering them on, more specifically her because they were so proud she was able to take her life back. Y/N could cry at the sight of her mother being a blubbering mess, and her dad’s admiration sparkling across his eyes. Though, with the support of her family, Y/N’s mind couldn’t help but wonder about Harry’s family, and how they couldn’t support their son with what he loved. 

With this, Y/N squeezed his hand harder, and despite the cameras around them, she leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss to his lips, the clicks of the cameras and the chatter of the crowd increasing. But, neither of them cared as they looked at one another, full of love.

Because that’s what this was. Love.

It didn’t matter that they had only met a little over three months ago, only dating for two months. They were in love. And that’s all that mattered.

Going out to dinner that night, they hardly left each other’s sides. They were being that obnoxious clingy couple that no one likes being around, but they didn’t care. Because they both knew they were in love. An unspoken love that didn’t have to be announced because the whole world knew, and so did they.

“Cheers to the love birds! And for the love of God, could you stop looking at each other like that,” AJ gagged, causing everyone to laugh before they clinked glasses.

When they left the restaurant, Harry and Y/N hopped into Betty, driving around for a little while before they decided to stay at his for the night. It was when the wind was blowing in her hair again, the moon shining above them and shining through her hair, his hand gently on her thigh, squeezing softly in contrast to that morning, that Harry truly felt it. This love that he has for this girl. Love that’s meant just for her. Her, and only her.

This gushy feeling was put on hold for a little while though the moment they walked through the door of his apartment. Y/N was bent over the arm of his living room couch, her one leg bent and on the armrest beside her while the other was trying its best to keep her steady on the ground. Harry’s fist was wrapped up in her hair, proving to make it more difficult for her to keep her balance. Though she wouldn’t want it any other way. 

“What’s the matter, babe? You said I could fuck you all night.” Harry’s hot breath coated the shell of her ear, “Y’tired?”

She gasped at a particularly hard thrust that felt like it had hit against her cervix, trying to get the word No out in between her moans and whimpers. 

“Hope not. Had me aching all day for your tiny cunt. M’gonna need a few hours to really appreciate it.” She could feel his menacing smirk against her skin as he again thrusted so far deep inside of her, her one leg gave out. If it wasn’t for Harry holding her up, she would’ve fell right over, too weak to even try and get back up.

They went twice on the couch before Harry helped her get to the shower, where they did it again. And then when they finally cleaned themselves, they got into bed, where they did it again, but this one could be classified under love-making. It was slow and sensual and sweet, just like them. Harry paid extra attention to her scar, trailing down the tissue with soft kisses as they softly climaxed together.

It was a little past midnight at this point, and they were both extremely tired. Y/N was on the brink of dozing off into dreamland before Harry interrupted her exhaustion. 

“We never finished our game of twenty questions, did we?” He murmured, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Y/N lazily opened her eyes, shaking her head, “Don’t believe so.”

“Think it’s my turn,” he hummed. “Do you love me?”

There was silence for a brief couple of seconds, making Harry think Y/N had dozed off before answering his question. But, Y/N just needed those seconds to collect her mushed thoughts inside of her mushy brain before giving him a coherent and valid response.

“Yeah. I do.”

Harry smiled, probably the biggest he’s ever smiled, leaning down and taking hold of her face and smashing their lips together in a ceremonious kiss.

“Sick. Ditto, Sunshine.”

#it would mean so much if you tell me what you thought #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles #one direction fanfiction

[kakubun]

Animator!Y/N

karasuno x gen!reader, hinata x reader

a/n: people who do animation, just take my whole heart pls

this felt like a proper fic but sorry if it's short,,

(please reblog darlings)

yachi first started being curious about you since you were one of the teacher's pet, always lingering around the art teacher asking questions with a tablet in hand

she was nosy, she had to admit

she wanted to sneak a glance whenever you drew on your tablet and you would glance at her if she wants to take a look but she managed to look away before you saw

but she finally founds out what you're doing when some students partake in presentation (even if you didn't want to, the teacher liked you so you had to) and you presented yours

her little heart couldn't handle her excitement when fluid carefully drawn animation popped up on the screen and you looked at your hard work with pride

whatever subject was in the animation you discussed about it with the class and you couldn't help but of course notice the crooked smile that yachi had

she was impressed and filled with so much undescribable feelings, she could cry with how astonishing your work is

after art class yachi decided to approach you and ask a bunch of questions to you and you had the pleasure to answer all of them

you also wanted to cry because of how hyper of a puppy was when yachi would bounce up and down when you started describing about your work and how she would apologize if she was being too excited which you would shake your head to and laugh

you started exchanging numbers and you saved her under "gal who won't stop staring", of course you noticed

she couldn't hide it,,

after finding out where she was after school so you could ask her about art projects or catching up when you're absent, you started going to the club a lot more to also see the boys

they would always see you sliding into the gym and going to one of their managers and asking yachi about something

which they didn't mind much, the simpy duo thought you were stealing her away which you teased them by putting an arm around her as she laughs and says "there was nothing to worry about, y/n doesn't bite"

the whole team suprisingly loves to see your work especially hinata since he would make sound affects for your characters if you haven't added any audio yet

he would leap when your character does a transition or the scenery changes and he would gush about how cool you and your animation were

you, hinata and yachi would walk home admiring your work and yachi would also pull out her drawing as well to show both of you

hinata were both your hype man, he would compliment and point out every detail he loves

(i'm also convinced he has made doodles but they would look wonky but cute)

and since you two were close you always had sleepovers!!

usually it was at hinata's house so you could bond with natsu and she was entertained by your animations that you set up on your projecter

sometimes hinata's mom would pop up and see how it goes and she appreaciates having you over since you were such a kind and close friend of hinata that matches his energy

it was such a blast, stuffing yourselves with snacks and chortling till midnight which hinata's mom would try to shush all of you but she couldn't help but join in because it was so much fun

you would all have headaches though the next day buuut it was worth it~~

whenever you feel out of it, yachi's there

she would always be there to give you snacks or ask you take a few breaks if you worked too much

she would try to scold you and you just can't help but follow because it would be mean of you to ignore her words

and oh they were so wise

it helped you through times when she wasn't even there and it was good that you followed so you didn't hurt your mental health from the get go

now to timeskip,,

T I M E S K I P :

you were an independant animator animating part of your manga with your crew which you grouped together with your friend who was the boss of everything

you felt proud of yourself since you reached a long way,

how your parent/s didn't suppprt you from the start to how stress swallows you whenever you were near a deadline to how people complain if their request wasn't fulfilled to their liking,

yes, you still experienced it but it was a lot more better now than your highschool years telling you to shut up about your dreams

here you were animating frame by frame of your own creation,

what exactly was your manga about?

volleyball :))

yachi and karasuno's volleyball team has inspired you so much about how much team work and pain they went through and your heart stop whenever you remember

your big inspo, yachi who would never stop babbling about you and being right by your side when you need it

you might cry on the tablet you're drawing on which make your crew question on what are you crying about but you held back which also made your crew question why were you smiling so hard

nonetheless, you were almost happy everyday because you could reminisce with the ideas yachi gave you back then which you still kept dearly because they were great plot points

and how you stick close to each character no matter how goofy or chaotic they were, they had a lesson for each time they appear and dissappear

that's how the stadium smelled like, the colours and the adrenaline you felt by cheers from the crowds, you felt like you could fly right now with how much you wanted to scream the team's name and let them notice you

it smelled like the victory the monster duo had, it filled you with so much glee to watch them gain fans from the sidelines

you also felt hinata and kageyama's pride swelling and you could knock your chair over if you kept this up

there he was the orange haired boy who used to be your biggest fan standing in front of you who now has a lot more fans trailing behind him

eventhough he smelled musky and felt sweaty you can't control the urge to hug him and he also can't too

you later hugged kageyama and just spilled all your excitement to both of them on how well the matches went and hinata couldn't resist hugging you again and twirling you around

he planned on telling you all about your manga and how he haven't catched up on it yet on some of it and a pang struck your heart as you teared up which confused hinata

ah, he still remembered

"are you crazy, of course i did!" his boyish laughter was louder than your sobs when he rested your head on his chest and pushed him off, complaining about how sweaty he was

oh you silly goose, of course he did

you also met up with the rest and tumbled into yachi when she appeared around the corner and everyone laughed it out

either of you got a headache as you both help each other up

hinata and kageyama would stand near the third years who held their hearts and congratulated them

which kageyama would smile and nod while hinata would still bashfully scratch his neck while happily thanking them because his seniors were proud of him

you would take a selfie with yachi and hinata, yachi would be the one leaping off the ground and eventhough the picture was a little blurry atleast you could catch both of their smiles

the next time you meet up, hinata was there in his comfy clothes melting into all the pillows you pelted at him and you snuggled right next to him when you both were fresh out the shower

just like the old times, how he would wrap around your arm and yachi would be on your left doing the same

except this time, you were the one snuggling onto hinata's arm

you felt kinda sad that yachi couldn't join since she was really busy

but hinata interrupted your thoughts with a screech when you whipped your head back to see what he was doing

the television showed your blood sweat and tears of the countless projects and art that you did about it, dropping your head on hinata's shoulder as not even a second in, you got a series of shout and yells of eagerness from him

"i added a reference of you somewhere~" "huh! really? did you add kageyama?? he'll text me about it later-"

and the night was drowning in the amounts of laughter and euphoria you two shared,

the number 2 who supports you will always be the number 1 in your heart

#haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyū!! #karasuno x reader #karasuno #karasuno x y/n

[divagonzo]

Like a Muggle

A/N: This is inspired (and a roughly written one-shot in my side-verse) by @headcanonsandmore aka Dadcanons and their musing of Ron being an awesome father to his kids.

Rated T for innuendo and some snogging but also veiled references to physical violence and social mortification. 98% Ace Safe. This will eventually end up on Ao3 and maybe FF.net

For now, though, it’s all for the Tumblr crowds.

Edit: Now on Ao3.

Give me my demarcation line damn it!

Ron opened the window to admit the unexpected owl. He was working in the Wheeze's office, trying to balance the books and was instead accosted by a nondescript brown owl. "Letter from Neville?" Ron unwrapped the twine from the owl's leg. "Need a rasher or a kip?" The owl hooted what sounded like a No. "It's from Neville. Does he need a reply?" Yet another hooting no.

"Wanna run on back then since Neville doesn't need anything else?" Ron reached out and let the owl come to him, stroking his head feathers gently before the owl took off again. He unrolled the length of parchment, using the readers on top of his head to scan the letter. Disappointment welled in his heart at first before pride shined. He had to go tell Hermione this straightaway, sod the books for an hour. He grabbed his dark blue cloak for the short walk to the Ministry. Taking the floo was too much hassle for a brisk fall morning. "George, I gotta run to the ministry. Back in a few." "Bring me back those shipping contract papers that Percy has for us, wouldya? Save a plonker the trip." Ron threw up a rude gesture while taking the twenty minute walk to the front of the Ministry. He needed the break anyway from the numbers swirling around his head this morning.

Through the toilets and through security, even with the bailiff who knew who he was and still checked him, in the lift down six floors to the Magical Law Enforcement offices, through the rows of desks for the bureaucracy known as the Ministry to Hermione's personal secretary Miranda Blunt. "Ah, Mr. Weasley. You're not on her agenda today so I assume it's important for her to see you immediately? Well she's using the Floo with her Italian counterpart on business so it will be a few." Ron smiled, knowing how important Miranda actually was to Hermione. Everyone thought she was just her secretary but only a chosen few - Harry, Hermione, Hemera, and Ron knew that Miranda was also her personal bodyguard at the office, after the few times anyone tried to breach the security of the department to get to her. "Tea, Mr. Weasley?" "Please." "Three sugars, spot of milk?" "I'd almost think you're related to Hermione with that mind of yours." "Nah, it's only for the important stuff. Husband's tea is important knowledge. And it's also a way for you to know it's really me." Ron gave her a lopsided smile while Miranda slipped into the secure office, returning a couple of minutes later with a small tray of tea and a couple packets of biscuits. "Your wife didn't know if you were peckish or not." "You spoil a bloke, you know that?" Ron tore the packet open and inhaled the contents. He'd missed breakfast this morning on account of other pleasant activities then fell back asleep, only waking fifteen minutes before he was due at the shop. Miranda went back to her seat and used the contraption Hermione got her last year, called a typewriter. They'd explained it to Ron that it was like writing on parchment but easier to read for those who had trouble reading so many varied scrips from people. Hermione had even gifted one to Arthur and he spent countless hours using it writing to his kids and grandkids. The door opened up a couple of minutes later and Hermione stood there, making a motion for Ron to come into her office. Ron followed her in and then he kicked the door shut and gave her a enthusiastic greeting, one that she never complained about before pulling back from his lips, her cheeks flushed and her eyes closed. "You rarely come to the office on a Wednesday so what gives?" "I got a letter from Neville this morning and thought you probably should hear it from me than from him if he sent you a letter, too." "Letter?" Hermione pulled her glasses up to the bridge of her nose, a faint imitation of McGonagall and scanned the parchment twice. "Detention! Two weeks! Rose Lavender Weasley, of all the people! Hexing two another students!" She looked at Ron and saw him smirking slightly. "You prat. There's a page two, isn't there?" "Of course there is," Ron handed it over and watched her frown turn to a grimace and eventually into a smile. "She takes after you, she does." Hermione looked up from the parchment and smiled. "You were always so good on speaking up for me and occasionally fighting my battles when I didn't realize there was one going on." Hermione went back to her desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a cup, pointed her wand at it and re-heated the black coffee, and took a long sip. "You must have zero nerves in your mouth," Ron muttered from his seat across the desk. "You get used to it," Hermione pulled out a length of parchment along with her eagle owl quill and inkpot. "Anything you want to add into the letter I will send off straightaway?" "Nah, she should hear from you first anyway," Ron knew he'd write a letter later today and send it off tomorrow morning so Rose would know how proud her dad was for her standing up for others. Hermione went to work writing and in short order, finished it and cleaned up the parchment with her quill. "I considered a howler but I refuse to do that to our child for any reason. I hated getting them when people thought I was toying around with guys during the Tri-wizard tournament. Besides, Neville has everything under control so I'm not upset too much over it." Ron recalled punching a certain git in the nose and smiled. "Who'd have thought that what started as bullying would turn into a trip for three of the bullies to the hospital ward with Hannah and two weeks detention for Rosie for hexing two students bullying Hugo and his friends, and blackening the eyes of the other two when they disarmed her. I don't think her having a broken hand for punching the boy in the nose was too far for her." "And Neville did say the boys pulled their wands first and she was disarmed." "I'm glad I taught her there's no shame in fighting unfairly when it's overwhelming odds." "I do hope there's no ongoing reprisals." Hermione looked at Ron and saw him shaking his head. "Nah, if I know any better, I'm sure the sods in question were told off privately to leave Hugo alone if they knew what was best for them." Hermione let out a stifled laugh. "What kind of idiot takes on a Rose when almost all of her cousins are present these terms? The only one who isn't' there is Teddy, Right?" Ron nodded. Hermione smiled slightly. "Sixth years and she's a third year, Ron." "She's as tall as many of the boys there, Hermione. It doesn't surprise me in the least. And if there are any further problems, Victorie would probably step in and put them in their rightful place, I reckon." Hermione picked up the parchment and scanned it one last time. "I think we do need to send a howler tomorrow." "Really? Why?" "One of the gits is Zacharias Smith's son and he said that “the only reason you weren’t expelled for this is because of your parents.”

Ron's eyes lit up. "Thinking what I'm thinking?" "I am."

Yet another demarcation line!

Rose tromped into breakfast, exhausted. She's been in detention with Professor Sinestra until one in the morning helping her sort maps and other useless rubbish. Hugo was the one who loved Astronomy and the stars. Only thing she wanted was to race around the Quidditch pitch and now she was banned for a fortnight, for standing up for those who needed protecting. It was so bloody unfair! James and Fred said she was brilliant for what she did and so did Molly and Scorpius. Al, being Al, laughed quietly when she said why she'd gotten detention. She looked up from her seat at the table, her friends with her in commiseration, and saw Zeb sitting across the way, scowling at her with two black eyes and a brace around his left wrist. Madame Abbot Longbottom said it was a small price for him to pay for being a bully on first years - that everyone in the school would know his shame. Owls swooped in, each dropping parcels for those who were present in the Great Hall. She glanced up and saw a tawny brown owl carrying a red envelope in it's talons. She felt the utter dread in the pit of her stomach.

Her parents sent her a howler. She knew she'd stepped in dragon dung if they were mad enough to send a howler. She felt the shame on her face and neck, a reminder to her that her Dad was the same way. She saw Professor Longbottom surreptitiously pull his wand from his robes, ready to silence it into oblivion if it got out of hand.

One last glance across the way and she saw Zeb Smith smirking, knowing how much trouble she was about to get into.

She took it in a shaking hand and tore the top off, hearing her Mum's tsking loudly. "Fuck," she said under her breath.

"Rose Lavender Granger, detention? Of all the things to get in trouble for, and you chose this," Hermione's voice droned loudly. She was shocked. Mom wasn’t yelling, well, no more than seemed usual. "We are so proud of you for standing up for the younger students. Who picks on first years minding their own business? What prat thinks so poorly of themselves that they'd berate first years for playing in the hallways between classes? " "Who tries to hex firsties?" Ron's voice interrupted. "Rude!" 

“Yes, it was very rude and you were right to intervene.” Hermione’s voice carried across the hall.

"We spoke with your head of house," Ron's voice bellowed, "and agree that the punishment fits the circumstances. Two weeks detention is adequate to us." "Sometimes the consequences are a fair price to pay." Hermione said.  "Serve your detentions knowing that we are proud of you for standing up for others who need protecting from bullies." "Love, Dad - " - and Mum." Rose released the breath she'd been holding entirely too long and looked across the way. Zeb was no longer at the table and neither were his three friends she'd put in the hospital wing fighting them like a Muggle.

#Dragon's Fics #Hpfic #Romione #Rose Weasley Granger #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #Hugo Granger-Weasley #OCs #Neville Longbottom #This ties into my fics from Romione FicFest #where Rose is a quidditch prodigy #and eventually has issues with Mum #But for this one things are still swimmingly good #tw: #tw: off page mentions of physical violence #tw: bullying references

[ichorizaki]

03. the family forest

warnings     infidelity

word count     4.6k

Your body felt hot despite the air conditioner being on full blast. You were rushing around, still dressed in your pyjamas as your husband barked orders at you like you were a lapdog while you struggled to help Tarō put on something that did not have Anpanman on it. It was the day of the wedding between Masayūki Hideo and Meredith Bonavich, and you would have been absolutely damned if you had to travel from Miyagi to Tokyo. Your family was flown out a couple of days ago to help prepare for the wedding at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, which also happened to be where you were staying for the next two days.

“Kāsan! Okāsan! Do I look handsome?” Tarō took your attention as he slid across the floor in his Anpanman socks. A smile graced your face. You knelt down to meet his height, throwing your body towel over your shoulder to ruffle his already messy hair.

“Of course you do.” Before he could respond, your husband came yelling at you.

“Why aren’t you getting ready yet?! It’s almost time and we’ll be late!” Tarō’s proud grin immediately withered into a concerned frown. Your hand reached up to cup his chubby cheek and gave him a forehead kiss before rising to your feet with a quick glance to the clock. You still had two hours till the ceremony started and all you needed was 45 minutes.

Simply ignoring your husband, you headed to the shared bathroom to finally shower and get ready. While it took you a little longer because Tadāo misplaced the hairdryer and blamed you for being inattentive, all of you managed to head down to the reception area with an hour to spare. It was no surprise for you to see your in-laws already grazing the luxurious field like diamond-studded, jewelry-dripping gazelles.

Tarō immediately spotted his cousins and asked for your permission to play with them. Who were you to say no? He happily ran over with a spring in his step, hugging and greeting his cousins with a big smile on his face. Turning to your side, you were met with your sister-in-law instead of your husband.

“Y/N, how are you?” She smiled gently. She was the only one you could ever really talk to besides the other female cousins and the one reasonable aunt in the family tree. You drank in her appearance and your heart swelled with pride at how beautiful she is. The both of you were the same age, give or take a couple months, and were close enough to have a strong friendship even if it stemmed for mutual dislike of your husband’s infidel ways.

“You’re so stunning, Yumeko.” Her already pink cheeks bloomed a bright red, matching the colour of her coral lipstick. Yumeko laughed, shaking her head while waving her hand dismissively. Even her laughter was so lovely.

“Y/N you flatter me too much,” she pouted. “How are you? How’s Tarō?” The both of you began to walk towards the walls so you wouldn’t block anybody’s way. It was out of habit from the countless family functions. While your conversations were mainly small talk until someone else swayed or called for your attention, you still treasured them. The normalcy would only last for so long until someone got too drunk or too riled up or worse—both.

So you talked to her about your baking side business and how it was doing well enough to supply you with some extra allowance. You praised your son, telling Yumeko how he was being a great student and friend in class and how excited he was to be in elementary school. The both of  you had a clear view of Tarō and his cousins playing with one another, running around and snaking between the legs of tall pant-clad folks like the ballroom was their playground. You knew how devious he can be and his natural charm of being able to persuade a crowd (you’ve seen it happen with your own two eyes at his daycare).

Yumeko on the other hand, shared stories of her own dating endeavours. She had tried using Japan Cupid, Tinder, OK Cupid, and even Dine, but the men that she went on dates with never seemed to spark something after the date. Her twin occasionally hung around her during dates in her free time, and when she couldn't, her friends did it. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had a dating app. It was nearly a decade ago; you were sure.

Fifteen minutes before the wedding started, guests from the bride’s side of the family began to turn up. For most of them, they were surprised to see all of the folks already present. You were ready to spectate some fight or even overhear some gossip but you were more than pleasantly surprised to see the two sides mingling well. At least on the surface, it seemed that way. You’ve only been to one wedding on your in-law’s side and it was rather tame, save for the backhanded compliments and viciousness under a façade.

You found your seat at a table designated for your husband and son, along with Yumeko, her sister Yasuko, and your parents-in-law as soon as the wedding was about to be announced. The whole time, you stuck to the twins. After the main course was over (you didn’t really like it—it was too expensive to your liking) and folks began to mingle, dance, and play, you insisted on remaining at the table until Tadāo’s father made an off-handed comment that made your blood boil. Yasuko’s hand was on your back, gently rubbing her hand up and down as an attempt to calm you.

Not even your mother-in-law made an attempt to apologise on behalf of her husband when they both rose to leave the table and join others of their age. You shook your head, thankful for the colourful lights that hid how red your jade-adorned neck was and the translator’s voice booming through the speakers that drowned out your sinful curses.

“Let’s go to the open bar,” Yumeko hurriedly suggested, her purse already clutched in her hand.

“The wedding speeches are going to be over soon anyway.” Yasuko agreed. Her cold hand moved to give your forearm a light squeeze. While Yumeko had an apologetic smile, Yasuko donned an encouraging smile. “Tarō will be fine but I’m sure we have a clear view of the kids’ playing ring.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you nod. The three of you left the table upon gathering your belongings and headed to the open bar across the ballroom. You noticed that Kenji was talking to someone at the bar with a shot of whiskey on the rocks in the hand that leaned against the bar countertop. You didn’t know if he had noticed you or not, but you didn’t care because you were already asking for a berry rose mojito.

You couldn’t find your husband ever since he excused himself after he had finished his lunch meal. Your best bet? He would turn up just in time for dinner or if he needed something from you. The thought settled itself into a hot seed in the back of your mouth. Yumeko and Yasuko were flanked by your sides, their own choice of alcohol in their free hand. While they sipped away at their drinks, you tipped your head back and downed the mojito in three large gulps before returning it to the bartender. The seed was washed down by the chilling, refreshing drink, but you definitely needed more than just a cocktail.

When she tended to you, her eyebrows were raised in surprise at how quickly you finished it but simply left it alone at that. The twins spoke nothing of it either, just being cautious as you eyed the waiters with trays of filled champagne flutes and bite-sized snacks.

“What’s the champagne?” You asked out loud, trying to fight the overbearing volume of the foreign language bleeding through the speakers around the ballroom.

“Dom Perignon Rose, 1998. A gift from the Bonavichs for hosting the wedding, we were told.” Yumeko informed you, sipping on her drink. Your response was just a hum of acknowledgement. You recognised that brand, and it was expensive. Noticing Tarō wave at you from the ball pit with a bright and eager smile, you raised your hand to give him a wave in return.

“You two go ahead and enjoy, okay?” You patted Yasuko’s shoulder. The twins smiled brightly, though reluctant to let you go but acquiesced regardless. With your head held high and just the faintest buzz of mojito in your veins, you headed over to the ball pit where your son and his cousins were happily screaming and playing with one another. Something that you noticed while approaching the play area was that even the kids from the bride’s side were playing along. The language barrier you were worried about, but they looked just fine. Entering the area, the kids who noticed your presence immediately came swarming to you, calling for your attention with none other than your son leading the squadron.

“Y/N-basan!” With effortless grace you squatted to meet their height, calves burning just the slightest from all of your weight on your stiletto-adorned feet. Your nieces and nephews alike fawned over the play area, saying that it was fun because the last time that they saw one another was their grandfather’s 76th birthday party a few months back.

“I’m glad to hear you cheeky monkeys are having fun.” Your hand reaches out to ruffle your son’s hair. “Was my Tarō being naughty?”

“Kāsan!” He whined as he sidled up next to you. Laughter and exclamations that no, he was being a good boy clamoured among the young children. He was forcing his face into a pout, trying to fight off the grin upon hearing his cousins vouch for his good behaviour. Kids always fascinated you with their innocence and trustworthiness.

From the corner of your eyes you noticed none other than Futakuchi Kenji lingering conspicuously outside the play area. He charmingly greeted the other guests with a bright smile, with a half-finished champagne flute in his dominant hand. You tried to pay him no mind, knowing that he was probably there to send your thoughts wandering as you wondered just why he was there.

“Kāsan, I’ll be a good boy, I promise! I even made friends with our new cousins!” He grabbed at your arm, shaking it as his body writhed animatedly. Of course you couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. He was way too cute for his own good and so were the other kids.

“Okay, okay. You kids stick together, okay?” You paused, comically looking around as if to make sure you won’t be heard by anyone but the ring of children around you. You leaned forward and so did they, your voice dropping to a hush, “I know how much you hate the adults.”

Gasps and giggles erupted like fireworks as you rose to your feet but not before Tarō asked to give you a kiss on the cheeks and the kids who wanted to do the same followed. For some reason, you were one of the aunts that they were drawn to. Yumeko and Yasuko were but older sister figures because even if they were your age, they behaved perfectly like a pair of five-year-olds. Eventually you left the playing area with your heart soaring and just the perfect dose of serotonin.

However, it just seemed to stutter a little bit when you realised that Kenji was making his way towards you. Or perhaps he wasn’t. Maybe if you just pretended that you didn’t see him walk up to you, he wouldn’t see you. Just keep walking, you told yourself. Just keep walking and maybe he won’t approach you. So you did: you kept walking in those sickly stilettos until you were blocked by the crowd forming.

“You really need to stop doing that.”

“What in the–” Your words got caught in your throat when you jumped out of your skin, heart threatening to ricochet through your chest. On the heels of your stilettos you spun to look at him with a pointed glare but you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander.

His long hair neatly fell in graceful locks, accentuating the high apples of his cheeks and the sharp slopes of his angular jawline. He donned a simple all-black suit with a deep maroon tie that had golden embellishments yet he still looked stunning. Wait. He’s not your husband. You shook your impish brain, dispersing such intrusive thoughts about a man who wasn't your husband.

“What do you want?” Your coral lips parted, eyes shifting to meet his gaze. Kenji raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. His lower lip jutted out into what appeared to be a weak pout.

“Why do you always assume that I want something, Y/N-chan?” He grumbled and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully. “I just wanted to ask how you were doing and if Tarō’s really your kid.” Formerly you were thankful that you did not have a drink to muse to but now you really wanted a drink. You already had a husband who was lord knows where. If you were going to deal with such bullshit questions from Kenji, you were going to need a drink. A strong one at that.

“Of course he’s my kid. Do my husband and I look like babysitters to you?” You wouldn’t fault him at all to not know that you had a son with Tadāo. As soon as the both of you had gotten your degrees in university, he had fled out to London for a business opportunity for a couple of years before settling back in Yokohama with a now booming company under his own name. He wasn’t there to attend your wedding six months upon your graduation and you were glad that he wasn’t. Lord knows what would happen between him and your husband.

“I mean, next to him, you look like the babysitter,” he murmured under his breath. You chose to ignore the insult thrown at your husband, waving for a waiter’s attention. The timid-looking boy came up to you with a nervous smile and a trayful of filled champagne flutes. You took one and thanked him before taking a long slip of the drink. “But I’m just saying—he kind of looks like me when I was a kid, don’t you think?”

It took everything in you not to spit the drink in his face right then and there.

“What crack are you on and where can I get some?” He simply chuckled, his eyes lazily floating back to the play area. You mirrored his gaze and watched as your son led the army of kids around, having made-up adventures and having the time of their lives.

“Are you really sure he looks like Tadāo? He doesn’t behave like you too much and he definitely does not take after the big man himself.” You were stunned speechless. You couldn’t quite remember how your husband looked like when he was a child. Had he ever shared pictures of him in his childhood with you? You were never close with his parents, which was a wonder how his mother even gave her blessing. While you were stuck in your thoughts, lips gaping and closing like a voiceless muppet, he chose to add more salt to the pain. “He literally has my eyes and hair.”

“What are you on about?!” You scoffed and took another large sip of the champagne. As the sparkling drink danced down your throat, your feet began to take you elsewhere. Towards the tables? Towards the exit? You didn’t know. “The both of you are cousins; of course there may be some form of resemblance but that’s as far as it gets. You’re sorely mistaken. Tarō is Tadāo’s child. End of discussion.”

Another sip from the champagne managed to cool down the hot seed lodged in your throat until you noticed your husband’s figure across the room. You had to do a double take to make sure it was him—the lights were dimmed for the sake of the father-daughter dance. To your dismay, it was. The same crisp maroon suit, emblazoned with plush velvet on the inside, the same black tie that you made hung loosely around his neck with the top two buttons undone. Your jaw tightened. Dainty fingers manicured just for the occasion squeezed the champagne flute in a vice grip.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, eyes immediately averting your gaze anywhere but on your husband flirting with a woman who was older than the both of you. What was worse was that they clearly had a wedding ring that they both chose to ignore. Unbeknownst to you, Kenji had followed his gaze to where you were looking before cringing a tad bit too obviously and looked away.

“How many times do I have to tell you he’s a good-for-nothing son of a bitch?” He sighed, watching you tip your head back and down the rest of the champagne. Spotting a waiter, you waved them over. At the same time, however, you heard a gruff voice that belonged to one of Tadāo’s uncles chastising him for his words.

“Kenji, calm down. He may be married, but he’s still a man.”

Oh, the audacity. Your lips were pressed in a thin line, passing the empty champagne flute to the waiter. With practiced grace and poise, you gave the old man a vicious smile before it burned into a dark glare. You kissed your teeth to outwardly show your displeasure before turning to face Kenji with the same heavy gaze. He gulped, eyebrows raised in shock.

“You think I don’t know that?” Exasperation clung to your voice like a needy child, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes at the sudden outburst. With your heart sinking in your chest you took a deep breath, “It’s too late for me to start over.”

“That’s not true, Y/N–”

You didn’t want to listen to what he had to say. Your steps were heavy as they soundlessly clicked against the marble tiles of the ballroom. Even in your haste to get out of such an airtight space you were so polite, excusing yourself in a gentle yet firm voice, snaking between bodies with your head hung low in embarrassment. How fast were you going, you had no idea for once the ballroom doors were forced open by your arms, you found the lift lobby and immediately punched for the ground floor with such brute force that you were sure that your knuckles threatened to bleed.

Kenji’s figure was so tiny when he squeezed past the ballroom doors. With a bitter, tearful smile, you watched as your eyes met and the lift doors closed before you, taking you to the level below so you could breathe once again.

You didn’t care that your feet burned. Glossy tears clouded your view like broken glass shards and the world was but a broken kaleidoscope of colours. You ran until you were struggling to keep up with yourself. You kept telling yourself you wanted to tear yourself away from high society but you knew it was just your husband and his cavalier infidelity. The fact that he doesn’t even try to hide it hurt you more.

Eventually your knees gave in. Your stilettos were long gone, nude stockings the only thing protecting your bare feet from getting hurt by the cement ground. You didn’t know where you were, running aimlessly but all you saw was a bench. A bench that sat alone in a vast area of greens, yellows, and oranges. The world spun around you as you carefully manoeuvred your way to it, plopping yourself down before completely breaking apart.

Sobs ripped through your lungs and like a vicious tsunami, all of your pent up emotions came crashing down. Seeing your husband talk up a married woman where a wedding was taking place was the last straw. You couldn’t take it anymore. How could you? How could he? What happened to the oaths and the vows he had sworn the day of your wedding some forgotten years ago? You were once a woman with dignity and now you were reduced to a lapdog servant waiting for its owner hand and foot, never once treated with respect.

Pulling away your hands from your face you noticed how your mascara had been ruined. You were positive that you looked a mess. Blotches of coral, black, and pink mixed in the palms of your hands in a melancholic, painful dance before a frustrated groan came from an exhausted you. Swatting your hands downwards, the makeup—or lack thereof—fell like paint splatter. Your thoughts were heavy and dark, a storm cloud waiting to wreak havoc and flood the endless depths of your mind, but nothing compared to the weight of the one conclusion that you had come to. Unfortunately, you knew it was hard to–

“Y/N!” Huh?

You blinked back tears, slowly raising your head. You could already feel the hurricane-like aftermath of a headache from all of the crying and the running. It didn’t help that you barely ate during the first round of meal courses. Bringing your closed fists up to your face, you rubbed your eyes gently with your knuckles before realising that it was Kenji running up to you.

His blazer was no longer on him, tie loose and the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, cuffs unlinked. Sweat lined his forehead and you noticed the hint of sweat prints on the underside of his pits as he stood before you, panting with one hand propped onto his hip.

“You . . .” He gulped heavily, catching his breath. “You run so quickly.”

“I just want to be left alone right now, Kenji.” The godawful crack in your voice made you wince. You thought you had cried out enough. Apparently not.

Nothing but silence from him. You could feel his stare on the crown of your unkempt hair but did nothing to prompt him. You wanted to be left alone. You wanted to be left alone. Did you? Because for some reason you felt reassured that he was there. For some unknown reason you felt relieved and at ease within his presence. For some twisted reason you wanted him to hold you in his arms and tell you that everything would be okay.

“Listen.” He began. Kenji sunk down to his knees so that you were both face-to-face, but even then you were avoiding his gaze. Cradling the tip of your chin in between his index finger and thumb, he tenderly guided your gaze to meet his, and oh, was it an absolute sight. They were bewitching; intoxicating. His eyes were the dark orange of a sunset shining through fire opals and they burned with a fondness you’ve never seen from him before. They were gentle, as were his hands when they reached down to cup your small hands. “I hate his guts. You know that better than anyone. Don’t you think it’s time we get rid of his pigeon-hearted ass?”

The corner of your lips threatened to tug upwards into a smile at the weird insult. Pigeon-hearted? He’s so weird, you thought, but as you thought that your smile eventually bloomed like a flower in spring. Before you could register your words, your lips were faster than you as you found yourself asking, “What’s in it for you?”

“Aw, Y/N-chan, I didn’t realise you cared about my wants and needs!”

“I’m not doing it!” You sourly frowned. What kind of response was that?! His flowery demeanour dropped as did his voice to but a bare whisper. What’s gotten into him? You get that he was trying to help you—and you appreciated him for it, genuinely—but sometimes you just didn’t understand what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his.

Wait. Pretty? What were you–

“Y/N, I’m being serious. You don’t need that fucker in your life.” Kenji’s voice managed to reel you out from venturing deeper into your ocean of thoughts. Your gaze which had fallen to the ground between the both of you had darted back up to meet his eyes, “You can do better than that. It’s not too late for you to start over with someone else. For all you know, they could be right under your nose this whole time.”

His words tiptoed into the depths of your mind, settling in and making themselves comfortable before sinking into the pitless ocean. Maybe he was right. Maybe you could still start over with someone else, someone who means something to you, someone who won’t leave you in the dirt and someone who would love Tarō for all of him. Oh, Tarō. Your heart longs for the day he will no longer be afraid of the man who is meant to be his dad. You never meant for him to be in such a troubling and stressful environment and all you want for him is the best.

Kenji earnestly stared into your eyes, and you gave him your green light. You deserve a better life. You deserve another chance at giving yourself the happiness that you truly deserved. He smiled brightly when you said yes to his proposition, a smile that gave you butterflies in your stomach.

You maintained eye contact as he rose to his feet after squatting for so long before extending his hand to you. You frowned. Were you supposed to take his hand? You looked up at him, then at his hand, then back at his face. He huffed impatiently, the smile dissolving into a childish pout.

“Hold my hand, damn it! Let’s go back together.”

You stilled at the prospect of heading back to the wedding. You didn’t exactly feel like going back into a room full of people. You had your hotel card in the pocket of your dress (the only thing you thought was worthy of the painfully expensive piece of fabric) and all you had to do was leave Tarō on Kenji’s care . . . sort of. Maybe you could get the twins to take care of him instead. Tarō wouldn’t be too thrilled to have another adult male keep an eye on him.

“Y/N?”

“Huh?” You blinked. Crap. You were spacing out and you didn’t even realise it. “My heels are missing and my feet are too tired.”

You had expected him to laugh, which he did. You had expected him to throw an insult your way, or even joke about how you were growing old so quickly, which he didn’t. You didn’t expect him to offer you a piggyback ride. You threw him a look like he had grown two more heads and a tail, profusely refusing. There was no way in hell were you going to ride him piggyback.

“C’mon, please? That way, my hands are free when I take you back to your room.”

It was unfortunate that he had a point there.

With a sigh, you reluctantly let yourself climb onto his back. You awkwardly pressed yourself against his back, his hands hooking under your thighs and hoisting you up. While it was weird for you, you didn’t mind it. He smelled good, and he was warm compared to the chilly almost-autumn air. He was probably speaking, but you were too tired and comfortable to register his words. Exhaustion took over your limp body and eventually, your world turned black with a promise that everything was going to be alright.

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#Futakuchi Kenji x reader #futakuchi kenji x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #bbthots #hq #꒰⚡️꒱ ⨾ zeus’ thunderbolt #꒰🖍꒱ ⨾ replica

[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.25

Adventure Awaits

02/22/2020

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 6,688

Warnings: language, light smut, angst, fluff, so much fluffffffffff, obscured nudity

A/N: Hopefully things will continue to come forth easily. The beginning of this chapter wrote itself, then I hit an emotional block but I finally got through it and here is the chapter! Things are a-moving and I can’t wait to share with you all what I have planned! If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

“What’s this?” Her voice is wary, eyeing the spacious kitchen which has been cleared out of the two long tables used to prepare all your meals.

Every servant has been given the day off with the exception of your head cook who is busy preparing your meals in the smaller manor where Peter has been staying. And one servant to tend to your needs.

However, you don’t want any interruption so the first chance you had you sent her off to relax on her own.

At the center of the kitchen with it’s carefully decorated and cobbled floors in shades of dark grays and browns is a large copper basin, big enough for two.

Floating amongst the pleasantly heated bath waters are the deepest of burgundy rose petals. A few of your own signature peonies thrown in, but the deep roses darken the surface. The clear waters are made milky with oils and imported salts that your research indicated would reduce stress.

“What does it look like?” You tease, moving past Nat still wearing the white nightdress you’d been put in for your examination in the morning.

“It looks like a very large bath.” She says a small curl to her lips.

“Because it is a very large bath.” You chuckle. “Peter?”

Your partner in this endeavor moves forward from the large double doorway, smiling at the look of surprise on Natasha’s face.

“Yes, my Queen?”

“Make sure no one enters? And inform me at once when Steve returns. Or of any news. Or if he sends word for me. Or-”

“Y/N…” Nat chuckles, watching you with amusement as she cuts you off.

“Sorry. I’m just-”

“Worried.” Peter nods. “He’ll be alright. Knowing about what we do isn’t easy. But trust us…we’re very capable.”

“And he has Samuel and Bucky with him this time.” Nat reminds you. “They are a tough trio to overpower.”

You’re not exactly comforted but knowing that Steve isn’t alone this time does make you feel better.

“I guess you’re right.” You sigh.

“Don’t worry, your Majesty. I will make sure that no one disturbs you unless it’s Steve.” Peter promises.

With a quick bow of his head, he leaves the room and shuts the door tight.

“So, what is the bath for?” Nat wonders, moving over to stand by the edge of the large basin.

“For you.” You tell her and move to stand beside her. “Take off your clothes.”

You don’t wait for her to be ready. You reach behind her and start to tug at the ribbons underneath her bodice.

“Wait! Y/N!” She twists in your grasp, trying to see what you’re doing.

“For what?”

“Your Majesty…” She complains.

“Stand still.” You fuss, and finish tugging her bodice free then peel it off and toss it aside before moving onto her skirt.

“What are you doing?” She laughs, true happiness in her voice. “Why a bath?”

“Because…” You begin, getting her skirt off before tossing it onto her discarded bodice. “…I have wanted to repay your love and support for a while now and seeing as this is how you have taken care of me, I wanted to reciprocate.”

You peek up at her beautiful face to find her slightly stunned but also impressed?

“Have you been reading a lot?” She asks, no doubt noticing your improved vocabulary. You really are trying very hard to be the Queen that Broklin and Steve deserve.

You feel your cheeks flood with heat. “I’ve been studying.”

“You’re doing wonderful.” Nat smiles.

“Our first week here Steve was so busy I only saw him when we went to bed and a few hours in the morning, if that. I had a lot of time to read.”

“Are you finding it easier?” She wonders.

“A bit. My writing has improved as well. Looks a bit more polished now.” You declare proudly.

“That’s wonderful, Y/N.” Nat praises and you smile.

“Take off your undergarment and get in, while the water is still hot.” You tell her, then proceed to remove your own.

As you strip, you caress the tiny swell of your belly. Once you’re undressed, you very carefully climb into the basin and with Nat protectively holding onto your arm to help, sit yourself down on one end leaving the opposite open for her.

Settled, you watch as she strips, and feel your mouth fall open as she drops her underdressed and exposes the exquisite perfection beneath.

Natasha’s body is a vision. Beautiful and porcelain smooth. Every curve appears sculpted by a master craftsman. There is no bit of Nat’s body that is not the ideal of what you think every man hopes his lover will look like. You aren’t even ashamed of your gawking because she is stunning.

“No wonder James is so eager to marry you.” You realize.

Natasha scoffs. “He only wishes he’s seen me so exposed.”

Hm…you would have thought that they’d already been together with how affectionate and open they are.

“That’s my point.” You tell her. “He might very well faint when he finally sees how beautiful you are.”

Nat shakes her head but settles into the steaming water and with one heavy sigh, you see the stresses of her day to day life leave her. And though you know that she does not begrudge you her care, you must be an added stress too.

You should have done this a long time ago.

“Are you comfortable?” You check, wondering if maybe different oils might have been better or if the water has gone too cold.

“Perfectly.” Nat assures you. “Is this what you had in mind for our special day together? Getting me naked in a tub?”

You laugh but nod. “Since coming here, to Broklin marrying Steve, there’s a decorum that I-no, that we are expected to adhere to. So much of our lives are spent abiding by everyone else’s rules. I wanted to give you an opportunity to relax.”

“Thank you.” Nat nods. “But after the morning you just had I would think you need this more than I do.”

You feel your smile waver and then fall leaving a sorrowful grin in its place. Pushing yourself to sit a little straighter, you begin to gather your hair up and away from your shoulders. It drips a little at the tips but it’s mostly still dry.

Nat’s own fiery red locks are already piled up on top of her head in beautiful waves. You’re still absolutely dumbstruck by her beauty, milky skin glistening in the steam, her breasts just barely hidden in the clean yet murky waters.

The rose petals help to keep her shielded.

“I’m not bothered by the examination. Doctor Selvig was very gentle. And it’s good to know that the babe and I are progressing healthily. However, I am still worried about him. What if he’s born with all of the problems that Steve had as a child? Will we have to seek help as the Queen Mother did to cure Steve and save his life?” You chew on your lip, finishing up with your hair and sitting back carefully.

Your hands find your belly and you begin to caress the bump gently.

“I’m sure you and Steve have nothing to fret over. From what I understand of his cure, it changed him in every sense but who he was as a person. He’s always been a reckless, self-sacrificing idiot.” She means for it to make you laugh and you do smile, but your worries as a mother will not relent.

“I hope you’re right.” You sigh.

“Shall I distract you?” She offers. “I did promise to tell you my story.”

Suddenly, your worries are shoved to the wayside as your need to understand this woman, your closest friend, completely.

“I suppose I should start from the age of three?” She begins, “I grew up in a small village, poor. Very much like you did. I don’t remember it, but what I do remember is being somewhere new. I was taken from my home—or maybe sold? I’m not certain. I have searched for my parents but have found nothing—and placed in what I thought was an orphanage for girls. For a long time, that’s what I assumed.

“I had no parents. I was given a bed and food, but also other things that I did not know weren’t normal until I was almost fifteen.” She confesses.

“What kinds of things?” You wonder.

“Violent things. Styles of fighting. Techniques to infiltrate, mimic, a form of acting I suppose you could call it. I was taught to be a spy. To charm those around me and then extract from them whatever it is I should need from them.

“Most importantly, I was taught how to kill, proficiently. And I’m…I have done so many times. The number of people…”

“Is this why you think you don’t deserve to be with James?” You’re astounded by her reasoning. Everyone has done things that they are not proud of.

“It is part of the reason, yes.” Nat admits.

“Nat-”

“I should be dead.” Nat tells you, shocking you into silence.

You wrap your arms around your tummy, trying to hold yourself together at this stunning revelation.

“What do you mean?” You whisper, terrified of a world without your best friend within it.

Nat’s lips curl up into a small sad smirk. He shakes her head once and draws her eyes down to her hand as she passes a floating rose petal between her long feminine fingers, which you suddenly notice are calloused and scarred.

“Back before I met anyone on the team, I was on a…I’ll call it a quest as I think that is the best word to describe it…on this quest, what must have been my twenty-third in a fortnight? I don’t even remember where I was.

“I was closing in on my target, some duke or prince—it didn’t matter—when suddenly, an arrow shot straight through my arm. I still have the scar.” She says, reaching up to stroke the faded line on her left bicep. “It was Clint.”

“The Hawkeye?” You wonder, remembering the pseudonym for the effectively retired member of the Avengers.

“Yes. He was given the order to kill me on sight. And it’s no wonder for I had caused so much turmoil among the Southern kingdoms by killing many high-ranking officials and members of countless courts.

“The price on my head was high but an old group known as the Shield had the highest bid. The man in charge, General Fury had instructed Clint to bring him my head. But Clint instead incapacitated me. He tied me up and spent a week trying to get through all of the cobwebs in my head.

“It took another few months before he was willing to turn his back on me. Literally. He was no longer afraid I’d attack him.

“By the end of the year, every bit of mind control that the Orphanage had me under was broken and I could see myself for the first time in my life.” Nat smiles, this time more genuinely, but it shifts back into the sadness you’d seen in the examination room earlier in the morning. “But although he gave me back my truest self, there are things that the Orphanage took from me that I can never get back.”

“What do you mean?” You’ve shifted closer as she’s spoken, drawn in by this astounding life of violence that she’d lived before you met her.

“The reason that I won’t marry Bucky…” She picks some more at the petals as they float around her breasts, the pads of her fingers stroking the crimson velvet. “…is because I could never be a proper wife for him. Not as one should be to a lord of such high standing.”

“Nat-?” You begin, growing frustrated with your lack of understanding.

“I can never give him children, Y/N.” She meets your eyes, emerald jewels glistening with tears as she lets her words sink in.

Your hands wrap just a little more tenderly against your belly.

“Oh, Nat.” You lament. “And you can’t-?”

“There’s no way to fix it. They were very thorough.” She tells you, dropping her head as she lets her sorrow flow through her beautiful alabaster figure.

You scoot closer with a splash as your body cuts through the fragrant water. Your arms are around her shoulders as you meet her forehead with your own, shutting your eyes as you embrace her close and will yourself to take her pain.

“I am so sorry.” You whisper, afraid to speak louder for you might very well cry. “You have known a life that I would not have wished on my worst enemy. It pains me to know that I can’t help you or erase what’s happened.”

Nat sighs, bodily relaxing as your hands stroke the silky moistened blades of her shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat, opening your eyes to look at her large lower lip as it trembles. “Even if you cannot have your own children, my son shall be your Godson.”

Your promise is true. If something should happen to you, you would hope that Nat and Bucky would take care of your boy. Raise him well. To be a good King and a good man.

“I will need you to care for him as if he is your own. He will be yours, as much as mine. How could I do any of this without you, Nat? I need you. My son needs you.” You lean away to meet her eyes, hoping she can see the sincerity in your own aching expression.

She stares at you for a minute, her eyes shifting between your two, back and forth as her mind races with mysterious thoughts.

Suddenly she smiles. “How are you so…so wonderful? So kind?”

You’re not sure what she means, and you try to think about what it is you just said. Whatever it is that makes her feel that you’re wonderful and kind, you know it’s only because it’s Nat and you would do anything to ensure her happiness.

“Because I love you.” You tell her, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. “Because you’re you and I want you to know that you aren’t alone. You’ve been with me every step of the way on this chaotic journey that has been the first year of my marriage…”

Has it really been less than a year?!

“…and you deserve every happiness.”

Nat reaches back to take hold of one of your hands then brings it up to her lips to kiss it.

“My gracious Queen.” She sighs.

You let her hold your hand to her lips for a moment as you watch her and the true fear that washes off of her.

“Nat?” You probe, “Does Bucky know?”

She nods, another small sigh escaping her lips. “He knows everything. Where I came from, what I’ve done, what I can never do for him…”

“He still loves you.” You realize.

“Yes.” Nat nods. “The idiot.”

You smile but reach up to caress the sides of her face to draw her gaze. “Nat, my love, Bucky adores you more than anyone or anything else in this world. If he has no qualms with your inability to give him children, then why should you protest?”

“Because he deserves more than that.” Nat replies exasperated and you don’t doubt that she’s had this discussion with Bucky countless times, and she must be tired of trying to get her viewpoint heard.

“And I understand that, but he loves you. If he feels in any way how I feel about Steve, there will be no getting rid of him.” You argue.

Nat growls, “I know.”

“Nat…” She looks at you. “…earning someone’s love can be as natural as breathing. It was that way for Steve and Margaret. Or it can be one of the most difficult things we ever have to do.

“Some of us have to fight for our love and the struggle can be grueling and exhausting. It can damn near kill you. Trust me. I know.

“You and Bucky have managed to find each other, and he loves you so much that he doesn’t care that you cannot give him what you think he deserves.

“If you can, if it doesn’t feel like too much of an imposition, I beg you to let him love you.

“Let yourself be happy.” You stroke her cheek with your thumbs, nodding as her eyes are glued to your own. “You deserve to be happy. Just as Steve did. Though his past will always be a part of who he is, it doesn’t weigh him down any longer. You can let go too.

“I worry, Nat, that if you continue to fight it, Bucky might very well run away just as I did. And then you would be without him…”

Nat scoffs. “I don’t think I could handle him going missing again.”

“Again?” Your brow furrows.

“It’s not important. It was years ago.” Nat shakes her head.

You open your mouth to protest, but your stomach gurgles loudly.

The sound breaks the tension and Nat chuckles then rises slowly before stepping out of the water to quickly drape herself in a thick deep green robe.

“I think you’re hungry.” Nat tells you, grabbing your own fur trimmed blue robe.

She holds it open for you beside the large tub.

“Or at the very least, our little Prince is.” She reminds you.

“You cannot just say something like that and not explain.” You argue.

“Later.” Nat brushes your curiosity off. “Come on.”

With a pout, you let her help you out and into your satin slippers, then reach to take your robe. Nat hisses, pulls it out of reach, then points at you with her chin.

Frowning, you turn around so that she can wrap you up in the soft warm fabric.

“Cheer up, your Majesty. Perhaps Steve has returned?”

This is a rude and shameless tactic of her to use, but it works and with a small pouty scoff, you move for the door suddenly eager to see your blonde, bearded, and blue-eyed scrumptious husband.

~~~~~~~~~~

Steve hadn’t returned when dinner came. He hadn’t returned when it was time for you to go to bed.

You'd sat all night in the plush blue chairs by the fire, counting the haunting calls of the Barred owl, no doubt nesting in the aftermath of the blizzard.

You’re on call number three hundred and seventy-two when your eyes close and don’t reopen.

You hear a sigh and they’re coaxed to reopen.

In front of you, on the cushioned footrest that you rarely use as you much prefer to curl up on the large chair, sits a handsome king.

His blonde hair is damp with small flecks of snow still clinging to the strands.

His cheeks are red, flushed from the biting cold, his lips only slightly blue.

You don’t like that. You want to reach out and massage some life back into that frowning pucker.

Instead, your sleep weary body adjusts in the seat to lean your head against the left side as you wrap your arms around yourself more tightly.

You smile, happy to see Steve despite the disapproval he seems to have with you.

Blinking is a chore. You’re so tempted to just close your eyes again and drift into dreams.

Instead, you lick your lips and swallow.

“Hello.” You croak, voice protesting use so soon after regaining partial consciousness.

“Why are you sleeping in the chair?” Steve asks.

This is what has offended him. This is the source of his frown.

“You’re with child, my petal. You can’t be sleeping in chairs.” He states.

Your back agrees and as you make to sit up, you scrunch your face as the pressure in your back nearly overwhelms you and then subsides.

“I’mmkay.” You lie.

“Well, I’m not.” Steve argues.

With a bite to your bottom lip, you lift your head again, realizing his genuine irritation.

“Have I done something?”

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “Not you, my flower. It’s…Pierce isn’t convinced of your pregnancy.”

“But…” You begin, your heart beginning to pound. You can already feel the fear and the stress building within you.

You cup your bump, fearful of what this means for your baby. Steve scoots closer, his arms tucking in beside your hips to cup the small of your back. It makes him get off the stool and he kneels in front of you, getting as close as the chair will let him.

You like this about him. He seems to know that you need the physical reassurance. Not just now, but all the time. He’s always touching you, holding you, making sure that you know he wants you to be near.

After so much of his distance, you appreciate the proximity in which he keeps you, both in private and in the company of others.

“He’ll have to wait to see the child born. He has no choice.” Steve tells you, voice low and soothing. “Doctor Selvig has assured him that you are with child, Lord Ross saw and was convinced by your growing belly. He has a daughter. Before his wife died, he was very devoted to her while she was with child as well. He knows what to look for.

“Pierce has never had a family. He has no wife. No children. He’s an idiot.” Steve sighs.

Although it’s comforting to know that Lord Ross believes your expectant belly, knowing that Lord Pierce will be looking for any signs that it is a farce—perhaps actively trying to prove it even if doing so should put your son at risk—fills you with a dreadful fear unlike any you have known before.

“Steve…” You shudder.

“It’ll be alright, my petal. I won’t let anything happen to our little prince. You and he are both the only thing that matters now.” He promises and you believe him, despite the crown that rests upon his head.

Your head.

You pull him close, resting your forehead against his, your hand a vice around the front of his shirt.

“Why can’t we just be?” You wonder in whisper.

“I’m sorry.” Steve grieves. “This is all because of me. If I was not your husband-"

“Hush.” You frown, pulling back to look at him. “I’ve fought tooth and nail to have you, I won’t have you wishing yourself away from me.”

He smiles softly, eyes brimming with love and pride.

“I would gladly suffer ten times what I suffered when we started if it meant that we could be as we are now.” You gush.

Steve’s smile widens, teeth exposed transforming his handsome face with more beauty.

“Is that why you ran away from me?” He teases, brows scrunched in amusement but genuine curiosity.

“I ran away from you because you were being an ass.” You shake him, hand still fisted around his shirt front.

“You are the best of women.” He states, “The only one that would have put up with what I did and the things I said…I wish I could take them back.”

“I don’t.” You realize, shaking your head, looking down at your hand clutching his shirt. “Save for our wedding night…there is not one moment of agony I would erase. I know you better for it. I know how stubborn you are, and unaware of yourself. I know how strictly you abide by your morals and how reckless you can be when your emotions are running high.

“But most importantly, I know how fiercely you can love. The lengths to which you’ll go to protect it.

“And if you hold ours in importance to a fraction of the love you had for Margaret, then I am content. All I wanted was a chance to love you.” Steve reaches behind your head, caressing the back and tickling the nape of your neck.

His face is torn with intensity, brow furrowed, jaw tight, eyes piercing with their sorrowful passion.

“A fraction-" He begins but stops as he stares into your eyes, hopeful devotion is all you can offer him.

Is that enough?

“Y/N you are my whole world now. I may have duties and responsibilities to my kingdom but having you in my life now, I could never go back to one without you.

“I always thought that my purpose was to defend the less fortunate, the defenseless and it is…but you have given my life true substance. I thought my life would begin and end with the fight I have been struggling with since I could throw my shield.

“Even with Margaret our lives were nothing but this job, this unspoken calling. I didn’t know that there could be something more important than the fight. And there is.

“There’s you. Our family. Our life together is…if you asked me to give up this life, I would do so in a heartbeat.” Steve gushes.

You’re a blubbering mess. You began to tear up at his admittance that he could never go back to a life without you. You laugh once sniffling and probably looking insane with tears pouring across your cheeks.

“Don’t do that.” You argue, tightening that fist around his shirt. “You love doing it.”

You see it in the way his eyes brighten when he talks about it. As much as you hate the idea of him showing up, broken and bleeding the way he had before, you couldn’t take this part of his life from him.

It’s who he is. You see that.

“But I would stop. For you. For our family.” Steve insists.

“I’ll never ask you to.” You assure him.

He smiles and shakes his head. “You won’t have to. If the time comes that the stress of this life becomes too much for you. I will abandon it.”

“No.” You fight. “I’ll deal with my own stress, you can’t stop!”

Steve chuckles, squeezing the back of your neck with affection.

“Have you always been this stubborn?” He asks.

“Have you?”

Of course, you know the answer to that better than anyone.

He laughs again but pulls you down to meet his lips with a kiss. It gets heated quickly and while your head is still spinning from the way his tongue rolls against your own, he’s scooping you up.

He places you in bed, tracing a line from your jaw down along your neck, collarbone, chest—he circles your nipple, pebbled from the attention over your thick blue nightdress—along your side, then around to your growing belly.

He cups the curve of it, nipping at your neck as your breathing heavies and a soft moan slips through your parted lips.

With your eyes closed, while your body burns for him, your mind races through a million thoughts before it settles on the fact that he’s in his Captain uniform, without his mask, sans his shield.

“Was everything alright?” You wonder.

“With what?” Steve asks, voice octaves deeper, rough as his hand begins to slip along the curve of your thighs, pushing the left one up to open you up.

“The attacks?” You clarify, voice breathless.

“Oh.” Steve stops, his hand drifting around to rest along your hip, still tight and possessive but he props himself up on his right elbow to look down at you as your heaving bosom slows.

“I was worried about you, of course, but the people…?” You explain.

“We lost a woman who was protecting her elderly parents.” Steve sighs, sadness in his storm blue eyes.

“Oh.” You reply, a small hitch in your voice as your chest aches.

You blink hard, trying to banish the tears from your eyes.

“Things aren’t going as well as I would like.” Steve explains. “I’m calling in some help. I’m afraid I will have to take Natasha with me next time. Peter as well, if things do not improve.

“But it terrifies me to leave you without some type of significant protection.” Steve brings his hand back to your belly.

If it were only you, you wouldn’t mind being left unprotected. But with your prince…

“I could always go stay with my father?” You offer.

Steve shakes his head. “I’m going to need him on this too. But you’re right. His castle may be safer for you as Pierce is always so present in ours. I’ll write to him today, see if he likes the idea. I doubt he would mind his own daughter staying for a few weeks.”

“I miss mother too.” You admit. “And Morgana.”

“Malibia it is then.” Steve nods.

Then he lays there, smiling at you, content.

But you shift beneath him, left leg still pushed to the side, bent at the knee.

“Steve…” You complain and bite down on your lower lip.

He grins. “My queen is ravenous.”

“Yes...please.” You plead and there’s a shift in his expression as you beg for him.

His jaw tightens and he dives down between your legs, hands renewed along your thighs, pushing them up to spread you as he devours you.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N?” Steve calls, drawing you away from the pile of books by the chair you’ve settled in for the afternoon.

After the exertions of your morning, Steve was eager to get you off your feet and his pleading for you to read to him became unbearable. You caved.

So while he’d settled in at the desk to write the letter to your father, you’d read to him, reciting from an old book of sonnets about spring and summer winds making your skin ache for the comforting rays of the sun.

You pull the small blanket from across your legs and your tempest blue gown spills out around your legs. The fabric is smooth but warm, like silk but thicker and better for the colder climate here at the cottage.

“What’s the matter?” You check, rising with worry at the tone in his voice.

“Nothing.” He assures you, then moves back into view from around one of the bookcases towards the door.

You’d chosen to sit by the large window to look out at the grounds as the snow continue to salt the already frozen earth.

“Agatha is here.” Steve tells you.

“Grandmother?’ You move towards him and he nods.

Steve has taken to the old woman like he would a parental figure. It’s sweet the way he tends to her and though you’re sure it’s because he’s a good man and she a sweet woman, you wonder if maybe it’s also because he knows how important she is to you.

“Where is she?” The aged voice asks.

“Through here, grandmother.” You call, making to walk to her but Steve places his arm around your waist to stop you.

The old woman moves into view and you can’t help the smile that crosses your face as stunning relief takes away any stress you still held in your body.

“Oh, my dear.” She fusses, and moves for you, hands extended.

You take her hands, bringing them up to your cheeks to warm them with your own heat. She’s so cold. You wonder if she didn’t bundle up enough.

“It’s so frigid outside.” You worry. “Where is your cloak?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, girl. Romanoff said that you were experiencing pains?”

You chance a glance at Steve, terrified of the worry it might bring him to hear this, but you nod when you see him looking intentionally calm. There’s a small shift in his jaw that tells you he’s keeping it in for your sake.

“Yes…” You nod. “I think. Just a bit. A small ache in my lower back and my stomach. But the pain was short lived and I have not felt it since.”

Your assurances don’t do anything to make her feel better. She frowns at you then glares at Steve.

“Your doing, no doubt?” She accuses him.

“Grandmother…” You disapprove.

“It is. Forgive me Grandmother. It was an oversight on my own part. I should have made certain to take care when I went out.” He wraps his arm around you more tightly.

“Yes, well, as long as you know that you were in the wrong.” She nods.

“Your Majesties?” A voice interrupts before you can defend Steve to the old woman.

“Come in, Peter.” Steve says, and all three of you turn to look towards the doorway and the bookcases that shield it from view.

There are two sets of footsteps you hear before two bodies round the shelf of aged and multicolored volumes of text.

One of them is, of course, Peter. Wearing a thick gray tunic with sleeves that button along his wrists. He’s getting bigger and bigger by the day. His muscles hardening even more than they already have.

He’s sprouting up. Filling out. He’ll have the girls at court in a frenzy when the lot of you return to Castle Town.

He’s smiling from ear to ear and for a split second you wonder what might have brought on such a pleasant visage when the second body rounds the shelf and your father saunters in.

“Tony?” Steve say, his eyes narrowing a little before his face breaks into a genuine smile.

He releases your waist to move forward and meet your father in a firm shaking of hands.

“Steve.” Tony nods.

“I was just writing to you.” Steve tells him, finding it all a little fateful probably. “What brings you to the cottage?”

You sweep past grandmother and Peter and sidestep Steve as Tony knowingly opens his arms for you.

Devouring him with your eyes, you appreciate the healthy way he looks. Skin glowing, eyes bright, dark chestnut hair layer with only the thinnest layer of snowflakes. His dark leather tunic is weathered and old but probably a comfort in such terrible weather.

“Father!” You gasp, as you settle within his embrace.

His chuckle brings you comfort, and you smile as he gives you a squeeze.

“I think I owe you a somewhat sincere congratulations?” He checks, leaning back to look at your face.

For a moment you’re utterly confused. “Why?”

“Aren’t you with child?” He asks, leaning back and holding you at arm’s length to look you over.

“Oh!” You laugh, so giddy to see him that your joy is infectious, and everyone laughs with you. “Oh, yes! Thank you. I’m so happy, father.”

Tony’s smile widens, a smug look of triumph on his face. “I knew you could make my daughter happy.”

His words meant for Steve are only slightly tinged with venom.

“Yes.” Steve nods, a strange look of remembrance flitting across both their handsome faces.

“I hope you can continue to make her shine like this.” Tony threatens. “I’m not afraid to punch you again.”

It’s like a lead weight falls into your chest and sticks your heart against the bottom of your stomach.

“What?” You gasp, quiet but sincerely shocked.

Steve laughs nervously, moving to stand closer to you. He wraps his arm around your shoulders to give you some comfort.

“Nothing. He was only joking.” Steve assures you. “Weren’t you Tony?”

His insistence is so firm that you’re now certain your father wasn’t joking.

“You punched Steve?” You ask in shock.

Tony clears his throat, averts his eyes, and moves on.

“Why were you writing to me?” He asks, moving towards the letter on the desk, half written.

“I…things are getting worse here in Broklin and I was going to ask you whether it would be too much of an imposition to take Y/N in for a time? Perhaps until after she has had our son?” Steve doesn’t look at you, but he pulls you closer. He squeezes you in against his side.

“You know very well that Y/N will always be welcome in Malibia. Her mother is always in earnest need to see her and Morgana writes to her often. Does she not?” Father asks, looking at you for response.

You nod. “Yes. Very often.”

“Mm.” Father agrees, looking back at the letter and giving it only a cursory reading before he begins to adjust the cuffs of his tunic shirt, pacing before the large window.

“What is it, father?” You ask him, very aware of what he looks like when he’s deep in thought.

“It’s fortuitous that you should need to come to Malibia for safety when I was actually here to ask you both for a rather large favor. And I think you, at least, son-in-law, owe me.” Father stops, hands gathered behind his back as he stops pacing and turns to look at Steve.

“What is it that you need, Tony?” Steve waits, no sign of dread or apprehension of being in debt to your father it seems.

“The people in my Kingdom have begun to grow restless. When they heard about the hidden Princess, they were outraged at my deceit. We had only just begun to settle things with the public when word of your disappearance began to circulate.

“Some of them thought that you’d killed her.” Father tells Steve and your mouth falls open.

“Yes. I heard that rumor too.” Steve agrees.

“What?!” You turn to look at him. “You never said that the rumors were that specific.”

Steve shakes his head at you. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Steve, maybe you should start to let me worry about what’s going to worry me? I don’t need to be coddled.” You snap, frowning up at him.

“I’m sorry.” Steve nods. “I should have told you. But it wasn’t important anymore. I just don’t want to risk anything with our little one on the way.”

He places his hand on your tummy and it’s hard to argue with that reasoning.

“Please don’t exclude me. I’m your wife. Am I not equal to you?” Maybe you aren’t? You don’t know how things work with Broklin. It seemed as if you and Steve were mostly on even footing, but perhaps as Queen your rule is less than his?

“Of course, you are. You’re my Queen. If I’m not around, you will rule in my stead. You are my partner, not my inferior.” He assures you, and it gives you ease of mind to know that he thinks this way.

“I don’t want to feel like you’re hiding things from me.” You sigh.

“You won’t. I’m sorry, petal. Truly.” He caresses the back of your head, hair stroke softly before a clearing of a throat brings your eyes back to your father.

“Is this what you look like when you fight?” He asks, amused for some reason.

“We’re not fighting.” You counter.

“Right…” Father says.

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head. “I interrupted you, please father, continue.”

“There isn’t much more to it.” He shrugs. “The people of Malibia are in desperate need to see their eldest princess, now Queen of Broklin, in the flesh. So, will you come? We’ll make it a grand affair. Parade through the Castle city. Feasts. Dances. Celebrations in the streets. It’ll be extravagant and obnoxious.”

Father’s accompanying smile is almost tempting to refuse. He looks like he’s planning a joke or prank, not a royal procession and day of celebration.

“I have no obligations here at the cottage. I may have to take a few meetings with my councilors, but I am open to it. Y/N?” Steve checks, looking down at you.

Although you’d just told him that you wanted to be his equal, you’re a little surprised to have your input counted.

“I’m always eager to see my family again, and it would be nice to visit my old homeland.” You nod. “I’m willing to if you are my love.”

There’s a look of tempered shock on Steve’s face before his cheeks flush and his ears flare a bright burning red.

“What?” You ask him, amused by the expression on his face but confused by it.

“You’ve never called me that before.” He gushes shyly. “Your love?”

You smile, even more amused by his reasoning. “Well, you are my love. Are you not?”

“Always.” Steve coos.

“Oh, jeez…” Tony groans.

#king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x reader #medieval au #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #steve x you #king!steve x you #medieval fantasy au #pseudo princess pt25 #pseudo princess #shreddedparchment

[sxfterhearts]

healed

31. [12:19 pm]

➳ pairing: yugyeom x reader

➳ genre/warnings: slow burn, fluff, slight bad boy!yugyeom, triggers; mentions of past violence, injuries, physical abuse

➳ word count: 2,725 words

➳ summary: 31. “Don’t worry about me,”

➳ author's note: this is it, the final part of this series! i hope it doesn’t let you down 😭😭 i’d love to hear your thoughts on this series, what you liked/didn’t like, and whether you’d like future drabbles in this universe!! (i’m tempted, tbh) that’s all from me, please please enjoy, lovely readers 🥰 (credits to @jinyoungot7​ for this wonderful gif that kills me everytime)

wounded // scarred // healed

A deep inhale made you giddy with joy. The familiar, sweet scent of this morning’s light drizzle lingered in the air. Although the weather was a bit too humid for your liking, you gratefully savoured the smell that filled your lungs. For some reason, being outside in the aftermath of a downpour always brought you back to that wooden counter of your parents’ restaurant. You used to watch the rain blanket the outside world from the inside as you soaked and drowned yourself in your daydreams. You were a foolish teenager back then, uncertain of the paths you would take and anxious of the future. Getting your heart broken by the one and only Kim Yugyeom was just the icing on the cake.

It was fair to say that a lot had changed since then. In the span of three years, you graduated high school, moved out of that tiny neighbourhood in Namyangju, rented a small studio apartment in Seoul and became a proud Veterinary Science student of Seoul National University.

Yet, you couldn’t help but to admit that while you had progressed into the next chapter of your life, some things will always remain the same. Like how your best friend, Yeeun, never missed out on an opportunity to lecture you over the phone from the comforts of her Busan home. You lifted the device away from your ears to save them from further damage, just as the leash of the cream Pomeranian in your care, Daisy, tugged you forwards, towards a passing bicycle. You urged the dog away from the edge of the sidewalk with a solid ‘No’, which she thankfully obeyed.

“I can’t believe that you’re not doing anything special the week before uni reopens! I mean, hello, we’re going to be spending the next twelve weeks slaving away at our desks, don’t you want to do something fun?” Yeeun shrieked in disbelief. You could imagine her shaking her head at you with that resigned look on her face, the one that signalled she had already given up trying to change your mind.

“Here, girl.” You whispered as softly as you could, trying to grab Daisy’s attention and guide her back to the adoption centre-cum-café, her temporary home. “This is fun and special, Eun. You of all people should know just how special it is to help out these cute furry little babies!”

“More like furry little rascals.” She muttered under her breath. “Come on, Y/N. I get that you’re really passionate about animals and all but just think about it – you’ll be facing these creatures for the rest of your life. You should really try something new once in a while. You know, go drinking or clubbing like a normal uni student. Besides, didn’t you just visit the centre last month for your birthday?”

She was right. You did make the one-hour trip to the adoption café on the morning of your birthday. Ever since that birthday three years ago, you always made it a point to celebrate by being in the presence of a furry companion. Taking care of another living creature, going on walks with them and picking up after them helped you to take your mind off that painful sixteenth birthday when you found out he was leaving. It became your annual ritual.

You cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the small lump triggered by those memories. “Yeah, yeah I did. I… Did I tell you about the dog that I took care of that day?”

Yeeun took a large bite of her favourite takeaway noodles before letting out a muffled “No, what about it?”

“He was… Well, he was a tiny black Pomeranian puppy, not more than four months old. He was cheerful and energetic, couldn’t wait to go on his walk.” You smiled sadly at the thought.

“Yeah…? And?”

“He reminded me so much of Charcoal. You know, the black puppy from your mum’s shelter? I walked Charcoal with him three years ago.”

“Oh, him.” Yeeun grumbled at the mention of Yugyeom.

You ignored the obvious disapproval in her tone. “Yeah, the thing is I really, really, really liked this puppy, and I was even thinking about adopting him for good. I got everything set up in my place, got the pee mats, the dog food, everything, but I came in this morning and he was gone.”

Yeeun hummed over the phone. “I’m sorry, honey. Maybe you and the puppy just weren’t meant to be.” She said, trying her best to comfort you about the adoption that fell through. “Do you still think of him? Kim Yugyeom?” Yeeun asked gently.

You sighed, catching a brief glimpse of your reflection on the windows of a cold noodle restaurant a few doors down from the adoption centre. To this day, you couldn’t enjoy a bowl of naengmyeon without your mind wandering to the boy. “Not often. Honestly, Eun, every time I think I’ve forgotten him, I’ll see something that reminds me of him and he’ll just creep back into my head.”

“You know what they always say, darling. You never really forget your first love.”

You mulled over her words as you rounded the corner towards the adoption centre, Daisy trotting a few paces in front of you. “I wouldn’t call it love, per se, it’s just-”

“Wait, hold that thought,” She interrupted. “I’m sorry honey, the boyfriend is at the door. Do you mind if we continue this later?”

“Yeah, sure, I need to go too.” You stood at the entrance of the centre, reluctant to go in and part ways with Daisy. The dog came to a rest by your feet, huddling close. “Thanks for calling and reminding me of my poor life choices!” You said, full of sarcasm.

“Hey, that’s my duty as your best friend, don’t mention it.” She chuckled. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember what I said. Go live a little, okay? You’ve already wasted too much time on Kim Yugyeom.”

“Yeah, I will.” You mumbled, agreeing with her words. “Go enjoy yourself with the boyfriend. Not too much though, and spare me the details. Talk next time!”

The two of you bid each other farewell and ended the call. Miraculously, talking to Yeeun made your chest a little lighter. Amongst countless other things, she had been there for you during Yugyeom’s abrupt departure and the initial stages of denial. She helped you draft, edit, and re-edit the numerous emails you sent to the boy, the only form of communication between you two for the first six months. She hugged you close and let you sulk on her shoulder when the emails suddenly stopped seven months after he left for Incheon. You were beyond grateful to have her as a voice of reason amongst your irrational thoughts; someone to walk with you hand in hand through the storms of life.

You made a mental note to ask your mother to send Yeeun a parcel of her prized kimchi as part of next month’s delivery. The girl never failed to mention how much she missed your parent’s cooking whenever the two of you talked on the phone.

All of a sudden, a high-pitched bark travelled across the street. You instinctively tightened your hold on Daisy’s leash, wary of the arrival of another canine. Cautiously, you watched as a four-legged, black ball of fur whizzed past the empty street, arriving before you and Daisy in a matter of seconds. As the dog grew closer and closer, recognition flashed across your mind as you noticed the dog’s distinctive white collar, a stark contrast to his coal black fur. The dog you intended to adopt this morning was wagging his tail and panting by your feet, letting out occasional playful barks at Daisy, his former neighbour. You bent down, arm reaching out to get a feel for his oh-so-soft fur–

“Dal!” A male voice, bright and awfully familiar, exclaimed between heavy breaths. “Dal, slow down, big boy! Daddy can’t…” The voice died down a notch, reducing to a whisper as its owner’s feet entered your line of sight. His entire body shaded your crouched figure from the afternoon sunshine that peeked through the clouds. “Catch up.”

A moment of silence ensued as your eyes panned upwards, scanning a pair of long legs covered in ripped jeans, then a yellow plaid shirt that was haphazardly tucked in, right up to the owner’s face. You couldn’t help the sharp gasp leaving your lips. 

Standing before you was none other than Kim Yugyeom himself. His features were more defined than ever, his wavy hair a silvery shade of platinum blonde and his ears adorned with a pair of silver hoop earrings. A single stainless-steel drop earring dangled from his earlobe, its bottom decorated with a half-crescent moon and a star. You stood there and stared at the boy you once knew, now a fine young man, just taking him in. You noticed the lack of cuts and scars on his unblemished, fully healed face. You spotted the beauty mark right under his right eye, standing out against his fair skin. You watched, mesmerised, as his lips twitched to form a slightly sheepish grin, while the tips of his ears burned and glowed into a striking shade of cherry red. Yugyeom’s eyes widened in mild surprise, his gaze lingering on your face for a few stretched out seconds before wandering away, then returning back.          

Him… It’s him… He’s here, in Seoul? But I thought he was supposed to be in Incheon, with Mark. What is he doing here? And how did he…? Your never-ending stream of thoughts swirled inside your head at an alarming rate, and you felt the onset of a splitting headache crawl up your temples.

“There you are, Y/N.” Yugyeom said finally, releasing a satisfied sigh and an airy laugh. He didn’t seem nearly half as surprised as you felt under these unlikely circumstances. In fact, you thought that the expression he wore on his face morphed into one of relief instead. “After so long, I finally found you.” He bent down to scoop the black puppy into his arms, leaving you utterly stunned. Before your mind could process the meaning behind his words, however, he suggested, “Let’s talk inside,”, gesturing towards the entrance of the adoption café. 

You gave him a meek nod, not daring to let out a sound on the off chance that you would stumble over your words and make a fool out of yourself. With the manners of a gentleman, Yugyeom held the door open for you and waited patiently as you ushered an excited Daisy into the café filled with her furry friends. He took confident, quick strides towards the barista standing behind the counter, much like the first time he had walked into your parents’ restaurant. The way he carried himself, with an air of calm coolness, had not changed at all. You followed closely behind, struggling to keep up with his bigger steps.

“Hello, noona.” He greeted the lady, friendly and warm. “Can I please get an Iced Choco and…?” Yugyeom turned to you expectantly.

“Uh…” You started, soft and uncertain. “A peach iced tea, please.”

“No longer a coffee addict, huh?” He teased, unable to contain his toothy smile. Yugyeom retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and held out his card to pay. It was then that you noticed, quite belatedly, the yellow Rilakuma plaster wrapped tightly around his left index finger.

Your mind began to race. You were unbelievably happy that even after three years, he still stuck to the same brand of bandages, but at the same time, fear and anxiety gnawed and scratched against your chest. All this time, was it still happening? You wondered silently. Surely… “What’s… What’s with your,” You gestured vaguely towards his appendages. “Your finger?” You squeaked.

“Ah,” Yugyeom glanced briefly towards the yellow plaster, paying it little to no mind. “Come, sit down first, okay?”

“No,” You replied with a firm tone that you rarely used. You were a little taken aback yourself. “I’ve spent the past three years worried sick about you. Don’t you at least owe me an explanation about your most recent injury?”

Yugyeom sensed your insistence and determination, knowing that there really was no use trying to convince you otherwise. “It’s nothing to worry about, Y/N, trust me, I’ll show-”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Let me see.”

“Look, it’s just a small cut, okay?” You raised an eyebrow at his description. From memory, his definition of a small cut was miles apart from yours. He took a step closer, hoping to persuade you. “Here,” Yugyeom peeled away the sticky fabric with little difficulty, revealing a thin slit that already closed up. “See? It’s tiny. I was cooking the other day and the knife just sort of slipped and nicked my finger. I told you, don’t worry about me.”

Still, you were unwilling to let him off the hook so easily. “Kim Yugyeom? Cooking? Are you sure that’s safe?”

“Perhaps not the safest…” He admitted with an embarrassed rub of his neck, leading you towards an empty table by the windows. “I just really, really missed your mother’s food. Her naengmyeon especially. I’ve tasted every single naengmyeon in Incheon and Seoul and honestly, nothing comes close. I even tried to cook it myself but, well… You can guess how that turned out.”

“What made you think that your naengmyeon could be better than a restaurant’s?” You questioned jokingly, earning yourself a faked wince of pain from Yugyeom as he clutched the right side of his chest, the wrong side.

After that, it was like the words couldn’t stop flowing out of your mouths. He told you about how he caught a glimpse of your adoption papers during his interview for Dalkyum, the black puppy, and recognised your photo. He confessed that he was initially drawn to Dalkyum due to his sheer resemblance to Charcoal, to which you agreed wholeheartedly. He moved to Seoul late last year to study Fine Arts at the Korea National University of Arts, and you revealed that you were studying to become a vet. He explained how half a year after moving to Incheon, Mark had accidentally downloaded a virus onto their shared laptop while gaming, rendering it broken beyond repair. He didn’t write down your email address and thanks to his goldfish memory, he forgot the entire string of letters once Mark found a replacement.

It seemed like the more you talked to Yugyeom, the more you felt the icy shards of pain and sorrow around your heart melt away. Although, that could probably be because he was looking at you with the brightest of expressions, his mouth permanently fixed into a wide, million-watt smile.

“What do you think? Shall we start over?” You asked after a lull in the conversation, taking a sip of the soothing, saccharine liquid.

“No, I’d rather we pick up where we left off, but with a proper introduction.” He extended his arm for you to shake, which you did with a light scoff and an upturn of your lips. “Hello, my name is Kim, Yu, Gyeom. Kim for gold, Yu, which means to have, and Gyeom, as in humble or modest. It’s nice to meet you again, Y/N. You look beautiful today, as always. Did you know that? I can’t stop myself from being drawn to you, but I guess some things never change.”

“I… What…?” You sputtered hopelessly, reigniting the butterflies in your stomach. “Yugyeom, I’m literally in an old t-shirt and baggy shorts.”

“Doesn’t matter to me, Y/N.”

//

“There’s another thing that never changed, which unfortunately was also out of my control.”

“Oh no, what else, Kim?”

“I’m sorry to tell you this so late, Y/N, but sadly, you were and are my first love. And you see, the thing about first loves is that no matter how hard you try, you simply can’t-”

“Forget them.”

“Exactly. Trust me, I tried.”

“Yeah, I tried too, so hard. I guess you weren’t meant to be forgotten. Or I guess we weren’t meant to forget each other.”

“First loves stick with you like a scar that can never be fully healed.”

“Wow, look at you, Kim! I’m impressed, you’ve become so poetic.”

“From now on, I’ll only write poems for you.”

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[marshmallowprotection]

Cereus

Pairing: Choi Saeran/Reader

Description: You never knew what you wanted to do with your life from day one. It just seemed like there were too many things to pick from and all you knew was that you didn’t want to be bound by the expectations of your parents. So, you decide to head west like the rest of those that are seeking new lives and changes without knowing what to expect or your plan. You just never thought that you would find yourself ensnared in the rope of fate on your journey to find yourself.

Word Count:  9271

Cowboy Saeran x Reader

[Read On AO3]

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Chapter Eleven 

The scream that escaped you didn’t sound like it was your voice. 

It was your voice crying out in response to the scene in front of you as Saejoong pointed the stolen gun at Saeran and pressed his finger right against the trigger.

 He looked as though he was about to pull the trigger and let it kill one of his sons, only for Saeyoung to brandish his pistol in recording time to shoot Saejoong’s hand, causing his hand to recoil and lose his grip on the weapon. 

The bullet that he’d nearly discharged would’ve been squarely in Saeran’s head if it hadn’t been for his brother’s quick thinking. You could hear the desperate air that he breathed into his lungs next to you as if he didn’t know if he had stopped the bullet from hurting his twin. 

He muttered something in relief underneath his breath that sounded like a prayer. 

Everything happened so quickly that you didn’t fully process it as it was happening. 

Saejoong had been knocked away as he clutched his wounded hand and stumbled back a few steps in pain to keep himself from falling into the river. The gun knocked from his hands that had belonged to Saeran, fully changing the position they had been when you had arrived at the scene. Saeran wasn’t moving. 

His eyes were still wide and he looked shocked, shocked that he had come so close to his death right in front of you… right in front of his brother. It had nearly happened and he just… almost let it take him down. 

You had just been saved from dying yourself so you were quite of sorts and your legs wouldn’t be able to carry you to him as much as he wanted. 

You wanted to rush to his side but you knew your body would stop you. No matter how much you wanted to be there by his side. You slid down from Big Dipper and clutched your hand against the horse, breathing deeply as you strained to stay upright on your feet, desperate to run to his side, and worried for his safety. 

Saeyoung was faster than you were, dismounting his horse and hurrying to his brother’s side as quickly as his feet could take him. He pressed his hand against Saeran’s shoulder and shook him a bit to get his attention, his body screaming at him to seek retribution for what had nearly happened to his twin in the time that he left him to handle this part of the plan. 

You could see the tension in his body from where you were. He had told you how he wanted to protect his little brother from harm. When you were rushing back to this area as fast as you could before it was too late, you could still hear the determination in his voice as he told you everything. His heart simply and truly heavy at the truth in his veins. 

—

You clutched tightly around Seven’s waist, “I saw all of it. Our mother kept us locked away our entire lives and kept that truth of his infidelity over his head to get money to pay for her drinkin’ habits. We didn’t mean shit to that woman. She just had to get her fix and we had to stay alive ‘nough to let her have it. She kept Saeran tied up for most of the day, tying the knots so tight that I couldn’t even loosen ‘em.” 

The wind whipped against your face as the faint chill of the water still clung to you like a silent whisper reminding you how close you had come to losing your life. You didn’t want to think about it. You just wanted to see Saeran. “That’s…” 

“Horrible, I know. Y’ain’t gotta say sorry about it. Y’ain’t the one that mistreated us. If anythin’, you’ve done everythin’ for me and Saeran,' ' His grip was firm on the reins of his horse. You looked up at the back of his head, seeing that familiar red color looking back at you. “And don’t say ya’ didn’t do nothin’ for me, you did everythin’ for me. You saved my brother from bein’ isolated and afraid. I ain’t seen him as happy as he is now before.” 

You shut your eyes to ward off some of the lulls from the heat of the sun. 

You weren’t sure that you had changed anything. 

You were just a fleeting moment in Saeran’s life. You believed in him more than any other person and you did… want to think that he believed in you, too, but it was hard to know when he always kept you on your toes and dancing to try and find your answers. 

He made you feel like you were alive, and at the same time, he made you feel like you were deep in the heat of the moment. He was everything. He was everything to you and you wanted to see him smile in the sunshine. 

You wanted to see him be himself without fearing getting killed or hurt because he wasn’t fast enough to protect himself. 

Or, the people that he cared about. 

You wanted to see that man that claimed to be fighting for the greater good of everyone around him smile. You wanted to see him stand tall and prove that he wasn’t the villain that everyone made him out to be. Most of all, you just wanted Saeran to see that you saw him as more than just Unknown, so that he may see himself as who he truly was for the first time. 

“Ya’ may not see it, but I do. I see the way that he’s looked at ya’... and I’ve never seen him look at anybody like that. You make him smile again and… that’s all I ever wanted for him. I’ve been fightin’ for so damn long for my brother to be happy since I was born and everyone has tried to stop me from doin’ it. But I won’t stop fightin’ for him. I know he’s strong, and I know that he’s capable.” 

“But, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s my baby brother n’ I want to protect him. Saejoong killed our mother in front of me. I knew that if we stayed there, he was going to do the same to us. The only reason that we’re alive is that I promised I’d take Saeran out that day. That’s the only reason we weren’t killed is ‘cause I wanted to give him a day under the sun.” 

“We ran for miles n’ miles until Jihyun found us and helped. It wasn’t pretty.  I was covered in her blood and Saeran was exhausted… there was no water for… I don’t like to think about that time, to be honest with you. We spent years livin’ and hidin’ as he tried to shield us from him. It wasn’t easy, but it was something. It was a reason to keep living and keep getting back up on the ground when we got hit. I did everything I could, but it wasn’t enough to protect him.” 

“And that’s why he let himself believe in the notion that he was this criminal, and that he had to push himself into becomin’ someone twisted to survive. He’s felt so lost, and I was too, but y’ain’t gotta be smart to know that a kid who people can take advantage of could be pushed until hit back. Saeran ain’t no monster, he’s got a kind heart, but he wants everybody to believe he’d kill if they crossed them.  We did a lot we ain’t proud of to survive, but…” 

“You, little Cereus, I don’t know what you did or how you did it, but you pulled the Saeran I know out of Unknown and brought him back to believin’ in something,” Saeyoung’s voice was strained and you could tell that he was choking back his tears as he spoke. “There’s no denyin’ the light in his eyes, and that’s why I had to save ya’. I had to ensure that his happiness was protected.”

He told you everything, every little detail that had happened to him and his brother over the years from start to finish. 

How Jihyun had to make a deal with Vanderwood to hide them even more because Saejoong had nearly caught them a second time, how he and Saeran dismantled that criminal group because they planned on killing the boys and lying to Jihyun to keep getting money, how he and Saeran had been working hard to find every trace of documentation that could prove Saejoong’s crime to the people—

So not only they could stop living in fear of the devil in the shadows so that the people of the west could finally see the light of day. Saejoong had been manipulating the lives of countless people for a very long time. Nobody knew the extent. 

Nobody knew just how much he was trying to control and break down from the start. 

They deserved to know they were being played for fools. 

The people couldn’t live without knowing the weight of lies being fed to them. 

You couldn’t believe how much these boys had suffered over their lives, but you were proud of them for fighting back. You were proud of them for standing their ground. 

Though, being proud wasn’t a means to say that they were pity words. It was the fact that you sincerely couldn’t imagine living like that. You may not have always seen eye to eye with your parents but you’d never know what to do if they did that to you. 

To treat someone as if they were nothing more than a toy to be used and thrown away. 

How could people be so needlessly cruel to children? 

When you had thought about Saeran and those scars on his wrists, it suddenly started to all come together all at once; To be trapped over and over again knowing that you could do nothing to stop it… you thought of that time when you held his hands in your own. 

You could see the abrasions and deep scars that marred his skin, and you understood where they came from.

You thought that they came from his working as a criminal, but as it turned out, they had come from being an innocent child in the wrong place at the wrong time. It burned you. It made you angry. It had made you want to stand your ground even harder to protect him from ever facing pain in his life ever again. You understood why Seven was so hellbent on protecting Saeran.

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in Saeran. It was the same reason that Seven said, you cared about him too much to see him subjected to facing the pain that he never deserved in the first place. It wasn’t okay to subject children to such torture. It burned you but you were scared for him because of where he was and how likely it was that he was alone. 

He didn’t need to be alone. 

He needed to have the world on his side, once and for all.

“He’s alone, isn’t he?” 

“Ya’ believe in Saeran, right?” 

“Always.” 

“Then ya’ can believe in me, too. I am him and he is me, that’s what twins are for. I’m not gonna let either of ya’ down. Today is the last day Saejoong holds a gun over our heads, So, hold on tight, little Cereus, Big Dipper’s gonna increase our speed.” 

—

“Saeran! Snap out of it!” 

“Saeran, Saeran, c’mon, get up,” his voice was pained and quick. Saeran was still in his daze as he looked at his brother with wide eyes. He needed to move him before it got worse. They needed to work on this plan he was telling you about. “He’s going to recover from that fast, get to Cereus right now, I’m going to take care of this.” 

“He… he just...” 

“I know, it’s okay, it’s okay, lil’ brother, I got you. I won’t let anyone hurt ya’.” 

“...”

Saeyoung’s arms wrapped tightly around Saeran’s shoulders as he held him for a moment. You could see that he needed that, they both needed that, but it wasn’t time to rejoice. This man was still alive and kicking in this world. He needed to be taken down. By the time you realized that you needed to look for Saejoong, it was too late. 

Saejoong seemed to have other plans in mind for everyone in this situation. He didn’t seem to think that three against one was anything that could stop him. He might have been just pushed back for a moment but he wasn’t giving up, his hand was bleeding from the wound but he’d gotten back to his feet. 

While Saeyoung was trying to speak sense into his brother to get moving, that man had gotten to his feet and stormed over to you. You tried to get out of the way but you didn’t have the energy to stop him now.

You let out a loud yelp when he yanked you by the hand and held his handgun against your head. “Let go of me!” 

“Quiet, Cereus! Unless ya’ want me to kill you for good this time,” his hiss echoed in your ears and made your body come to a standstill. This wasn’t like the man that had thrown you into the river, it sounded like he was fully prepared to make you pay for coming back. “I fuckin’ mean it. Make one move and I’ll shoot.” 

He had watched you nearly drown and he seemed prepared to finish the job this time. 

“Aggh!” 

There was a wild look in his eyes, and it seemed like he had been pushed to the edge. You tried to strain against him but there was nothing that you could do with how weak you felt from falling into the river. Your vision had come back but Saejoong jutted the gun against your skull further, hissing and barking at you to shut up. 

He had come out to this small area without backup and he thought that he was going to stand his ground against the twins when they’d come for him, but it appeared as though his plans had been snuffed with the boys came packing with no fear in their hearts. 

You didn’t know what he was thinking or why he hadn’t prepared better for the twins to arrive with his team. You knew that he had people with him and you knew that they were out there, but why they had not expected something like this and stayed with their boss was beyond you. You had seen who was out here with him. You knew that they were out there. 

You knew that they could be anywhere. 

But… where were they? 

Saejoong didn’t know what was happening with that, either. There was that sense that he was on edge and that he expected someone to arrive sooner, rather than later. Had someone turned against him at the last minute? You had no way of knowing what was going on because Saeyoung hadn’t had the time to tell you about everything that had happened while you were gone. 

Two days.

It had been two days, nearly three days, since you had seen anyone. 

You didn’t know what they had been doing or what they had been trying to do on their side of things because you spent two days alone and isolated underneath the sun as you prayed for the burn to wash away from your skin. You didn’t know what to think. They had a plan but whatever it was, it wasn’t moving fast enough. 

This was getting out of control and fast. 

There was no telling what had been going on, and once again, you found yourself at the end of a barrel of a pistol. This wasn’t where you wanted to be. You didn’t want to be used against them, not again, no one would want to be the bargaining chip for the lives of the people that they cared about. Nobody. It had happened to Vanderwood and you saw the weight on their shoulders. 

You saw the pain they carried as they left you.

It was the weight of holding the world on your shoulders but not being happy for it. Nobody wanted to control the fate of everyone. It wasn’t a good choice to have. Your lungs felt hot as a breath escaped you. You had just barely saved yourself at the last second and now you were being pushed down once again. 

No amount of struggling was getting Saejoong to let go of you. 

This man had shown you time and time again that he was someone who would act without mercy in his heart. He had intended to kill you already and now he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Even though he only had one gun in his hand, that was more than no gun. 

What did this man think that he was going to prove? 

Even if you died, even if you breathed your last breath—

“Stop it,” you strained, and knew that he would just tap the gun against your head deeper. “There’s no point to any of this! You could’ve just let them live freely! The only reason they fought against you was that you tried to kill them in the first place! You gave them no choice but to fight back or die! You never had to do any of this!” 

“Their lives are the very problem, Cereus,” he hissed with a growl. “Their mother thought she was being clever and she paid the ultimate price for it. I ain’t about to deal with another mistake twice cause’ of ‘em. They would’ve saved all of us a lot of trouble if they’d just died alongside their mother, point-blank. It never had to be painful or complicated, they’re the ones that dragged needless conflict.” 

“Get your filthy fuckin’ hands off of my Cereus,” Saeran’s voice cut through you like relief, though the acid in his voice was something that you hadn’t heard since that first night you met him and he scared off the crook that had a gun pointed at you. “I’m not goin’ to repeat myself. It’s the end of the fuckin’ road, Saejoong. If this is all you have, then this is a waste of your time. Shoot ‘em, and we’ll shoot you dead right after.” 

“He’s ain’t fuckin’ around, and neither I am, Saejoong,” Saeyoung’s voice was just as firm. These two meant business and they weren’t going to turn things around nor were they going to allow you to get hurt again because of their father and his selfish wishes. “Ain’t nobody comin’ for ya’ and ain’t nobody gonna back ya’ up. Give up. End of the fuckin’ line, ya’ bastard. You’re just delaying the inevitable from happenin’.”

Looking back at the brothers, you were looking right at the two of them as they stood together, guns pointedly at Saejoong without hesitation. Seeing the stand together united was something that pulled at your heart for some reason. You’d seen how strained they were at times but to see them working in harmony?

It was a testament to their bond.

Even if they didn’t always see eye to eye. 

Seeing them together was more powerful than anything that you’d ever known. Knowing where they came from and how hard they fought their entire lives to stand their ground against this man had to come to an end one of these days and no matter what happened here, this was the last minute for one of these sides to fall. 

With hope, it was meant to be Saejoong. However, Saejoong wasn’t backing down. You had expected as much, but you never thought that you would be in the middle of a potential shoot-out. This wasn’t where you wanted to be today.  Though, you doubted anyone wanted to be in this position. Shivering, you looked back at Saeran. 

He was looking at you, wordlessly. Even though he wasn’t saying anything, you felt like he was speaking everything just from his eyes. Those eyes that you loved so dearly. He was pained and relieved, just as a set of tears began to flood to your eyes. You thought that they all dried up and left you behind, but just the sight of seeing him brought the tears back. 

You never wanted to put him in this position. You never wanted to make him choose between being himself and being who he didn’t want to be. He wasn’t a monster but he was faced against a real one and you knew, you knew in your heart that he didn’t want to hurt others. 

You knew it. He didn’t have to say it. The world never gave him another chance to survive. He had no choice in what his life was or how it played out.

Until you. 

He chose to keep talking to you and he chose to get close to you. That was all of his own accord and for a man that tried to shove everyone around and work in isolation, it said a lot about what he could have thought of someone like you. You wanted to believe that the feeling of his lips nearly brushing against yours had been the fruit on top of the cake. 

It wasn’t the whole of his affection, but it had been the piece that you had wanted to taste first. 

You wanted to kiss him, to embrace him, and to say that hell was over and that judgment day had come to a close and he had won, but that’s not where you found yourselves. Those faded scars and those old memories flooding your mind, wishing to be blind to everything but your love for him. 

If just for a moment. 

If just for a minute. 

If just for a second. 

Saejoong was gripping your arm so tightly, so tightly that it was likely to become a bruise soon, but against the big rope burns and marring from being bound for so long, it would only be another injury to add to the ones that you already had. What was another bruise to the pile that you had already been given by this man?

“You’ve lost, Saejoong, fuckin’ simple,” Saeran repeated himself once again. “Yer’ wastin’ your time tryin’ to kill them when no matter what ya’ pick, yer’  going’ to be dead regardless of the choice. Let… them… go… now, and trust me, I ain’t got the patience for yer’ ass anymore. Neither does Saeyoung. This is fuckin’ pitiful if anythin’.” 

He laughed, “You think ya’ beat me? Haha… hahaha…. Haha… do you hear that, Cereus? My sons think they got me beat. It’s only a matter of time til’ the sheriff comes ‘round and handles this little problem. Ya’ think ya’ have numbers on me? We can stand here all day till they get here. Ain’t nothin’ gonna change the fact I ain’t lost yet.” 

“If all ya’ got is holding Cereus hostage to prove you’ve got control, then yer’ not the so-called boss ya’ think you are,” Saeyoung said, coldly. You saw his finger nudge against the trigger of his gun, his grip so close to taking the shot. He had hit him once before, you knew that he wouldn’t hesitate again. That look in his golden eyes wasn’t lying. 

Neither was the one in Saeran’s eyes. 

But, the air grew tense and it seemed like this standoff was going to last quite a while. Neither Saeran, Saeyoung, nor Saejoong was letting go of the grip on their guns. Nobody made a move, nobody made a sound, and nobody dared to challenge what had been created. This was going to end one way, and one way only. 

Someone was going to meet their end. 

You knew that something was going to happen, but the dread pooling in your gut told you to stay calm, to stay quiet, to not make things harder for the boys. 

It was already strained enough. There was no need in making it worse. They were doing everything they could at that moment to make sure that nobody got hurt that didn’t need to be. You wanted to believe in your gut from what you were seeing that Saejoong had nobody coming. You hadn’t seen Vanderwood since the night prior, nor the sheriff. So, something felt off. 

You couldn’t ask them. 

You cursed yourself for not asking Seven what was going on, but he was in his own state of disarray now. Sucking a breath, you tried not to think about the gun pressed against your temple. Nor the way that it could end your life in a matter of seconds, rather than minutes. Even if someone came, it would do nothing to stop where you were standing. 

“They’re right, Saejoong,” you winced at the way that your voice trembled. You probably looked like a drowned rat to everyone. Even if the sun was drying out the water, you still looked like you had been run ragged as something dropped in the laundry barrel. “There’s no point in this. What do you get if you’re dead? Your legacy? What’s a legacy to a dead man? What’s a pile of gold to a dead man? What do you get if you’re dead?” 

“Everything,” the man’s grip felt like it was digging down deep to the bone. His hiss made you wince and shudder.  “A man’s name is everything he has, no matter if he lives or dies. Names have power, as do status, n’ I’m not about to lose mine to a couple of bastard children! I told ya’ what’d happen if ya’ tried to fight me, lemme guess, ya’ wanna die today?!” 

You felt the gun click in his hand, and automatically you clenched your eyes shut and prayed for him to spare the trigger. 

But, it never came for you. When you opened your eyes again, you realized why you never had to hear the gun. That was because the area was now surrounded by people. The sounds of horses and footsteps on the dirt gave way to a crowd of people coming from the direction of the town. The RFA was among the sea of townspeople, and you almost cried in relief. 

Gasps and surprise rang out from the people as they realized that their mayor was holding one of the townspeople at gunpoint, someone who looked like they had been beaten for days. There was no way to paint this in a different light. There was no way to talk your way out of this one. That unhinged look in his eyes and the blood seeping from his hand was telling. 

There was no way he could explain this to the people. 

And, they weren’t happy to see that their mayor, the man that convinced all of them that he was kind and compassionate. He was standing there holding someone who had been nothing but kind to every single person in town ever since they arrived at gunpoint. No matter the fact that Unknown and Seven were disheveled and holding their guns across from him, this situation was obvious to even the people who blindly agreed with the mayor at every turn without questioning him or a moment in the past. It was over. 

And, Saejoong didn’t like that. 

He didn’t like that. 

“I said it was over,” Saeran said. That look in his eyes was filled with relief. Though, his grip on his gun was tight. It was likely a reflex. He looked like the world had returned to his eyes, and Seven stood right by his side, letting out a breath that he hadn’t realized that he had been holding in this entire time. The crowd wanted answers. 

“This ain’t what it looks like,” Saejoong said, his hand immediately removed the gun from your head as he tried to do damage control for what he thought that he could fix. “Y’all don’t understand what this looks like. I can explain everythin’ yer’ thinkin’ about right now. [Y/N] is a liar and has been workin’ in the background with the outlaws, Unknown n’ Seven.” 

That’s when Zen spoke up from the crowd, stepping forward with an undaunted expression on his face. “Oh? Is that why you had a gun to their head? What happened to leaving everything to the sheriff when it came to criminals? You’ve claimed you would never raise a hand against anyone yourself to make it fair for everyone involved until proven guilty. What threat does [Y/N] pose to someone like you, mayor?”

“If they’re in league with the outlaws—”

Zen scoffed at that. His eyes rested on you, and you knew that he was here to protect you. That man was your best friend. He would do anything to make sure that you were okay. He glanced back at the crowd. “And, better yet, [Y/N] has been missing for two days and we all know that it couldn’t have been Unknown and Seven who took them. And, get that fucking look off your face, Saejoong, your sheriff sang like a canary to the town. We know what you’ve done.” 

“You’ve been stealing from people for years,” Jumin cut in from Zen’s side. The man rested his arms against his chest. He nodded along. “It seems like your partners decided that you weren’t as powerful as you believe yourself to be. We caught your bumbling idiots trying to burn down my father’s home with him and his fiancé inside last night. They sold you out to save their own skin today. You’ve got no one to blame but yourself.” 

Saejoong was glowering and as he tried to open his mouth to combat what they were saying, to try and defend himself from the truth, but the rest of the RFA just kept cutting him off before he could try to speak his mind. He had said enough and there was no way that they were going to let him try and trick anyone again. 

“You’ve been manipulating crime so the wrong people are imprisoned just because they know too much about you, and we’ve corroborated their accounts thanks to Jihyun’s proof. You should know that if you’re going to commit grand theft and manipulate people, you shouldn’t have documentation about these accounts hidden in your office, Mayor,” Jaehee’s narrowed eyes were on him like a knife, sharp and ready to strike.

There was no hiding the fact that she’d been prepared to shoot that gun out of Saejoong’s hand. If the rumors you’d heard were true, she could’ve taken him out from a mile away if she wanted. That gave you a sense of relief knowing that she could’ve helped you alongside the twins if something went out of control. 

It gave you a sense of strength in a sea where you had been robbed of that. 

Seeing your chance to move, you rushed to Saeran’s side as far away as you could get from Saejoong to save yourself from the impending disaster that was going to fall on his lap now that the truth was just pouring out from all sides. He didn’t stop you when you wrapped your arms around him, lungs hot with that relieved sigh that you inhaled. 

It was him. 

This was Unknown. 

It was truly Saeran. 

His arms were stiff at first, but the grip that he had on the gun loosened as he returned the weapon to his belt. He let himself hold you and you felt the ragged breath that escaped his lungs as if he had been holding in since the last time that he saw you. It didn’t matter that the world could see the two of you, you didn’t care what anyone thought. 

You just wanted to be with Saeran again. 

“Sorry I ain’t come to save ya’ faster, little Cereus,” he whispered. His fingers clutching tight to the back of your shirt. His voice was so soft and so tender. It was unlike any tone that you’d heard from him before and it made your heart swell. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him even though your heart was begging you to look and never let go. 

“You idiot,” the soft whimpers that escaped your throat were pitiful but relieved all the same. Just knowing that he was there with you, safe and sound, made everything better tenfold. “You weren’t supposed to come back for me. You were supposed to get away from all of this.”

There was a chuckle in response, “Don’t ya’ remember what I told ya’? You shouldn’t underestimate me. I ain’t gonna leave ya’ to die like that. Besides, y’ain’t paid me back for that life debt, yet. I can’t be losin’ my Cereus suddenly without a warnin’. I’d never get any work done if’n it was just me n’ this idiot over here.” 

Saeran nudged his twin that was standing next to him with a sigh. You could tell that he was cooling down now. Though, there was still the smallest tremble in his body that told you that all of this had affected him as much as it affected you. You could see Seven in the corner of your eye letting his shoulders sink but his grip on his gun was still firm out of sheer necessity. 

Saejoong wasn’t taken down yet, he was still standing there, unscathed in a crowd of people. It was at that point that you elected to lift your head and gaze up at Saeran. He looked back at you and offered a small glimmer of a smirk. It was his way of smiling, but you missed that. You also noticed that Jihyun had arrived at the scene, as he was standing behind the three of you. 

His hands resting against their shoulders and they both stilled. Jihyun glanced at you, the apologetic look in his eyes was there. “I apologize that we were almost too late, [Y/N.] That rests on my shoulders, and my shoulders alone. But, this is never going to happen again, I won’t allow it. My cowardice was what stopped me from doing this sooner, but thank you for giving me the chance to make things right.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, to say something, to say that you understood that he had been trying his best and that hearing everything that Vanderwood said just implied that while he made a few mistakes, he had only wanted to protect them. But, Saeran decidedly cuts you off before you can say a word to reassure him. 

“Really, dad? We already had this fuckin’ talk, so go on n’ stop kickin’ ya’self in the ass when we’ve already talked this out,” the scowl on his face was fairly light-hearted in comparison to the way that you’d seen him stare at other criminals. There was a story there that you didn’t know. Even Seven seemed to be surprised by that comment. 

“Ya’ heard him,'' Seven offered with a chuckle. His golden eyes returned to Saejoong, who was now cornered by the RFA and the crowd at all sides. He wasn’t going to be able to run away.  “There’s no arguin’ with that. Did you bring it here, then? The paperwork n’ everything? Not that I think we’ll have ta’ use it at this point.” 

“Better safe than sorry, son,” Jihyun offered with a nod.

The crowd had grown quiet as Jihyun stepped up to the plate with his hands in front of him and a nod on his head as he crossed the paths of the townsfolk that he knew very well. 

He stopped in front of the man and held his head high. It was a surprise to see him different from that man weighed by guilt the last night that you spoke to him. 

Jihyun was a well-known man in this town and he did his best to make that bar everything for the people here that needed a haven and no single person would dare to think that he would step out of line to hurt anyone. People trusted him because he respected them. 

“This is just a misunderstandin’,'' Saejoong was doing his damnedest to fight the claims but nobody was believing a single word he was saying. You didn’t know but you had this feeling that the two days that they spent away from you were spent turning everything they knew against this man out into the open to destroy his hold on the world. 

“It’s ridiculous! Surely none of ya’ think that I would ever do something to endanger any of our citizens unless something had to be done to protect them! Those three criminals are planning on using all of us! Ya’ don’t understand what I was trying to do for all of you! Who are you going to trust? Some miscreants from a floozy bar or your mayor?!” 

“That’s enough, Saejoong Choi.” 

You had known that the three of them had been working for years to take this man down, searching for proof, papers, and all kinds of things to show the people substantial proof that they were being lied to and mistreated by a criminal from the start. You didn't know the extent of how deep things ran, but to see all of these people angry and against him—

After having spent years trusting him to take care of them? 

This feeling didn’t fall on you. 

The weight of this was years in the making. 

Jihyun stood his ground, “Stop digging your grave deeper. We’ve proven everything to the townsfolk that you've been hidin’ from all of us, the gold, the manipulation, stealing documentation, coercing and bribing people, the murders, the lying, and the list goes on. The town knows everything and we’ve shared everything with them because they deserve to know what ya’ve done.”

“The gold that you’ve stolen from the residents of this town has been uncovered. Vanderwood sold you out after Seven freed their family from the well you’d trapped them in to get rid of them. Everyone had no choice but to believe the facts presented when we caught the sheriff red-handed in the act of trying to move the gold from your household. The sheriff gave you up after he realized that he’d been had, and told everyone the truth. You made everyone believe that you could control them through fear and manipulation by holding the sheriff and a few crooks in your pockets, but not anymore.”

“No longer will anyone in this town fear what you’ve done to us since you came here all those years ago. You killed countless people with your own hands, or through others to get your control. You are a man that came from nothing back east, who conned his way to this area by lying and tricking others from day one. You were never an honest man. I followed your trail back east and found the paperwork and warrants for your arrest that were set decades ago.” 

“You came here to evade the law, only to continue to live the life of a criminal instead of turning your ways around and trying to do the right thing. You killed countless, my mother included, and worst of all, you killed the mother of your sons right in front of them, in cold blood, because you didn’t want them to exist. These crimes span decades of your life and they never seem to end. But no more. We’re putting a stop to it, now.”

With bated breath, Jihyun laid down the price of absolution as he flashed the wanted papers in front of the crowd of people with unmistakable features of this old man. “Saejoong Choi is a wanted criminal, through and through. It’s time to pay back for all that you’ve done. You’re lucky that the people here in this town are good, otherwise, you wouldn’t be standin’ here alive right now for all that you’ve done. No excuse you say will save you, nor can you run away anymore.” 

Saejoong didn’t like that. Oh, no, he didn’t like that at all. This was his livelihood. The color had drained from his face as he realized just how deep the grave that he had dug for himself was. He opened his mouth and shut it again. It seemed as though for the first time in his life he had nothing to say and nothing to wiggle his way out of. 

There was no else to blame, no one else to scream at, and no one else to cover for him. 

He was the one stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

Everything that he had built for himself, the empire, the money, and more, was ripped away from him in a matter of seconds. All because the RFA had banded together to take everything apart piece by piece as fast as humanly possible. From Jihyun’s statement, you were able to put together what happened. It seemed as though the boys discerned who had turned you into Saejoong.

Meaning Vanderwood, the person that had worked with the twins for a very long time.  Seven had known how Vanderwood acted and knew that they wouldn’t have turned the boys in if they had a say in the matter. So, he did what he was known for, figuring out and solving a problem in seven seconds and fixing it. 

Their family was being held against their will and that’s why Vanderwood had no choice but to work for Saejoong. Seven was able to locate where their family was being held and sprang them from the spot, giving Vanderwood the chance to make amends with what they’d do. You had made a huge impression on Vanderwood and were to thank for part of that. 

Vanderwood headed back into town not long after they’d left you that night and was able to meet up with the RFA thanks to your encouragement to make peace with their choices. Once their family was free, they had the chance to fix things for the twins as well. With someone with just as many collections as the twins, they now had what they didn’t before. 

Meaning that they had a lot more manpower on their side to fight back. 

Vanderwood was just as connected with the underbelly of criminals as the twins were, and working with them, it seemed as though they were able to make a front just large enough to back them up as they dismantled everything that this mayor had put together to try to stop them from harming the Han family, which had been the second problem. 

That plan that you had overheard with Saeran was nearly set into motion in tandem with your kidnapping. 

They planned on getting Chairman Han out of the way and getting rid of the twins in the same motion, and then they were going to pin Jumin Han down with a deal that he couldn’t refuse as the town began to fall apart due to Saejoong’s plan. 

Jumin and the others managed to catch them in the act of trying to burn the house down, with both Chairman Han and Madam Choi inside. Once the richest man in town was essentially saved because of the criminals and not by the sheriff and his men, there was no hope for them. 

Which led to the next part of their plan. 

All because the sheriff had been strangely quiet lately and the lack of response to a crime against someone like Chairman Han couldn’t be ignored. 

Most of the town’s people were perplexed by all of this. But, Chairman Han was beloved for how fair he was to everyone that he tended to and provided work for. Seeing that criminals had come to his rescue far sooner than the sheriff had set a poor taste in the mouths of some people. 

Suspicion had been growing out of control lately about who was pocketing all of the gold and forcing people to get out of town. 

The sheriff not being there to do his job to allow for vigilante justice just fanned those flames. 

A simple comment from Yoosung as a crowd gathered at the site of Chairman Han’s household: “I have seen the sheriff sneaking off to the mines late at night. I saw him carrying a bag of gold, filled to the brim. If the mines are drying up, how would he have that much gold?” 

Which led to them convincing everyone with the proof to go and see where the gold was being taken, catching the sheriff in the act of trying to transfer everything that was hidden in the mines to a secure location on Saejoong’s property. In the process of trying to speed away from the mines to avoid the angry mob, everyone had seen him drop gold into the dirt. 

By the time everyone caught up to him, he had been stupid enough to go right to the scene of the crime of all places. They wound up on Saejoong Choi’s property. His wife seemingly had no idea who her husband was, and upon seeing everything as proof that was placed in front of her—

She allowed everyone to search the property and the household because she needed answers. They didn’t just need answers, she needed to know why her husband had been so busy lately and finding more and more excuses to stay out of the house when they had a young child to take care of. It was found in a matter of an hour as everyone searched the grounds of his household. 

So much of the gold was just sitting on his property, tucked away in a small plot he had dug to hide much of it. It couldn’t have been planted there, either. That was proven when the documentation in Saejoong’s office was acquired. His notes about this situation were just sitting there at his desk for anyone to find. 

From that point, this man was damned from the second that he decided to try and hurt his sons in the first place. His downfall was his undoing because he didn’t think hard enough to hide more of what he was doing. This information was only compounded with the realization and proof of his sons, the murder of their mother, and well as countless others as—

Not to mention that he was a wanted man on the other side of the country for countless crimes. 

He masked himself as an honest man. 

He had never been an honest man. 

His empire and his legacy that he wouldn’t stop talking about were now ripped from his hands. There was no coming back from this and Saejoong knew that. That look in his eyes as he realized that he had been defeated was the most spiteful and angriest look that you’d ever seen. The mask that he had worn was now broken and the people could see Saejoong for who he was. 

The monster, not the man, that they had come to know. 

And just like that, Saejoong was caught and bound so that he could be taken in to face justice. 

“It’s over, it’s really over now,” Seven said from your side once again. His voice felt lighter and like he was breathing for the first time. You could hear a sigh of relief, and almost a breathless laugh because the day had finally come where the boys were free. They were finally no longer bound by the fate they were born into. 

He embraced his brother and you both, for the longest time. The weight of the world sliding off his shoulders and his brother’s. To think that everyone had come so close to death and now it was finally over once and for all. No words could be used to describe that feeling. The feeling of being as free as a bird in the blue sky. 

“We’re really free,” Saeran echoed that thought. His grip around you was still just as firm. He didn’t want to let go of you at this moment. You lifted your head to catch his gaze and that soft look in his bright eyes made your heart melt. You smiled at him and he returned it. A breathless laugh escaped his lips and yours as well.

No matter how exhausted your bodies felt, this was a moment to live and to thrive. In this unforgiving desert, you had found hope and you wanted to cling to it as tightly as you could.

Saeran glanced at his brother and scoffed. The tone of his voice was a little dry as if he was trying to get him to step away so that he could have a moment with you,  “Do ya’ mind, Saeyoung? I ain’t seen my little Cereus in days.” 

Saeyoung chuckled and took a step back with his hands raised in his defense. There was a bit of surprise in his eyes as he heard his brother use his true name. He hadn’t done that in a very long time, as far as you knew. He smiled and tucked his hands into his coat, politely glancing away so that the two of you could have a moment. 

He said, “Alright, Alright, have yer’ fun, loverboy. I know how to take a hint when you slap me with it. I’ll look away, Saeranie.” 

With that aside, Saeran kept his gaze focused on you. “Now, where were we last time we were together, then?” 

“I believe you were going to kiss me, Saeran,” you countered. You didn’t miss the way that the warmth spread across his face as you mentioned that. “You were going to let me decide for myself what was or what wasn’t dangerous for me. So, what do you think? Are you still going to challenge that kiss or are we going to keep bickering about it?” 

It seemed as though you had caught him off guard with that. He chuckled, though, as you tipped his hat back to reveal the dusty red hair that felt as warm as your heart. Leaning over, you brushed your lips against his and he melted into your touch. It felt like sparks flying... like you were meant to be together in this windy desert like nothing else could. This was everything that you wanted. 

And, quite honestly? 

It was everything that he wanted. 

By the time that you pulled away, your forehead still rested against his. Breaths melting together as you finally at peace with yourself and your choices. As hard as it got sometimes, this was what you felt like you had been missing all along. The adventure that you wanted wasn’t going to be found just by going places and traveling, it could be found where your heart was, forever. 

Saeran was the journey that you wanted to explore the world with and without saying it, you could sense that he could say the same. It was all in his eyes. The eyes that you loved so very dearly and so very strongly. You could hear his whisper against the wind, as his words that were only meant for you were spoken so gently. 

“I love ya’,” he said with a murmur. “I love ya’ more than I’ve ever cared about anythin’. I thought that I’d never get the chance to tell ya’. I should’ve done that so you wouldn’t have left that night. I wanted ta’ kiss ya’, I wanted ta’ kiss ya’ more than anything… I just… I never wanted ya’ to get involved so much that somethin’ like this happened. You’re my Cereus, my sweet little Cereus, and I don’t know what I’d a’ done if I lost ya’ forever.” 

“Cereus is… Cereus is a lot of things for a lot of people. But, to me, it’s hope. It’s finding somethin’ in the desert that lets ya’ feel alive. It’s when ya’ hit ya’ lowest point, the darkest day, and somethin’ just shines so brightly that ya’ can’t help but ta’ get up and try n’ live for it. You’re my Cereus, you’re my hope, you’re my light in the darkness. Ever since I saw ya’, all I could see was the Cereus that made me want to live when I thought I was gonna die.” 

“You saw what everyone thinks is a monster, and ya’ gave me a chance when nobody else would. That’s why you’re my Cereus. That’s why I love ya’, and I never want to let ya’ go. If it ain’t too much trouble, would you consider staying with me? Despite everythin’ that’s happened? I get it’s askin’ a lot but I just can’t imagine life without ya’ anymore. I ain’t the softest man, nor am I the kindest, but you make me want to believe again.” 

Cupping his hands in your hands, you quietly kissed him again to seal the deal. He didn’t know it, but his eyes were flooded with tears. As were yours. The world had tried to rip away everything from Saeran since the moment that he was born, but Cereus had given him the faith to stay alive. It had told him to survive. 

Because if something so full of life could survive in hell, why couldn’t he? 

“If that’s what Cereus means, then I should be calling you that,” you said, breathless. 

“Actually,” he said. Those eyes of his opened and watched you carefully as the lull of the world around you grew to a standstill. It was nothing else that mattered and nobody else existed. “I want you to use my name. I don’t have to be Unknown anymore. I want to be Saeran Choi. I want to finally be free of these chains, and even though I’m a mess, I want to be Saeran with you. Because you saw him and gave him a chance when I thought he was gone forever.” 

You smiled, thumbs wiping away the few tears that had escaped him. 

“You’ll keep calling me Cereus, though, right?” 

“As long as it infuriates you the entire time.” 

“That’s too bad, Saeran, I happen to like it, now.” 

“Is that so?” 

Cereus was Saeran’s hope. To Saeran, Cereus was his everything, and by calling you Cereus, he was saying that you were his hope when all else had abandoned him and left him for dead. 

That’s what Cereus meant all this time. Knowing that... you knew that you weren’t going to be able to stop blubbering like a baby about it. To think that he meant so much of you from the first night that he named you after something so palpable and true. No matter what happened, that name was so very important to him.

To be gifted that name was something that you would never let pass you by. Saejoong was wrong about the Night-Blooming Cereus. 

You didn’t bloom in a night only to wither away just as fast as it blossomed. Cereus was the hope that better days could come and that the dark journey was coming to a close. If Saeran saw you as his Cereus, then you saw him as your Cereus. It just happened to work out that way. 

You gave him hope and he gave you hope. 

Cereus brought you together and it would bind your fates forever.

[Read The Epilogue.]

#cowboy saeran supremacy #cowboy saeran #mm #mysme #mysticmessenger #mystic messenger #saeran #saeran choi #choi saeran #mystic messenger saeran #mysme saeran #mm saeran #saeran mm #saeran mysme #saeran mystic messenger #unknown #unknown mm #unknown mysme #unknown mystic messenger #mystic messenger unknown #mysme unknown #mm unknown #mod kait #cereus #fic rec #saeran x reader #unknown x reader #reader insert #long post

[merakiaes]

Epiphany - Jack Thompson

Pairing: Jack Thompson x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: In this, Chief Dooley is still alive even though it takes place after the events of Agent Carter. I haven’t seen the show in a while so sorry if it’s a bit out of character. I’m also extremely writer’s blocked, so yeah...😅 I’m feeling so unmotivated right now so please show some love, let me know what you think😭 NOT PROOFREAD!

Wordcount: 6405

Summary: Agent Thompson has never been anything but an ass towards you, but that’s all about to change. 

Being the younger sister of Howard Stark came with a lot of baggage, baggage that, at times, was far too heavy for you to carry.

The disadvantages were many and they were big, one of the biggest ones being that no matter how great and how many things that you accomplished in life, you never got recognized as anything other than Howard Stark’s sister.

That’s all you were, his sister. You weren’t (Y/N) Stark, you were just Howard Stark’s sister.

When you accomplished something, he was the one who got all of the attention, all of the compliments and applaud.

He was praised because obviously, he was the one who had taught you everything you knew, right? In no way could a woman, on her own, accomplish what you had. In no way could a woman be so smart.

And being the arrogant man that he was, he absorbed the praise like a sponge, leaving none of the spotlight to you; even when you were, in fact, the star of the hour.

His name, his fame and your kinship haunted you. When he did something good, you got told by everyone that you must be so proud to be related to him, and when he did something bad, well…

The time he got accused of selling off his inventions to the enemies of the state spoke loudly enough on that topic.

You worked at the SSR alongside Peggy and had been since the end of the war, in which you had both served side by side with Captain America up until his passing.

In the end, it became known that during all of the time your brother had been in hiding from the law, Peggy had been helping him in the shadows, in secret alongside his butler, Edwin Jarvis.

But despite it, you had been the one to be closely monitored up until that revelation.

Because of your kinship to him, the Chief and your fellow co-workers were suspicious of you and your every move the entire time they were chasing him, thinking you were just lying through your teeth when you said you had no idea about your brother’s whereabouts.

But you did, in fact, not have a clue as to where he was or what he was doing. Neither Peggy nor Edwin told you anything about their secret operation to clear your brother’s name, despite the fact they were both your closest friends.

When it was revealed that they had been the ones helping your brother and not you, you were happy to get Jack and the Chief off your ass, but that didn’t change the fact that your brother had trusted Peggy and Edwin over you, his own sister.

Having the same parents and being related to him did have its perks too, however; all of his personality traits weren’t bad. Most of them were, but not all.

You had both been blessed by the quick wit, intelligence, perseverance, confidence and loyalty. You were a very independent woman, sure of yourself, wise beyond your years, and you knew it, never settling for anything less than you were worth.

Luckily, you hadn’t gotten your brother’s arrogance and impulsiveness. You were the more analyzing, cautious, responsible and compassionate sibling, much to your own relief.

You were, however, just as sarcastic as him, if not even more. It was your biggest flaw and it often caused you to get in trouble, especially with your male co-workers as you almost always managed to out-wit them, making them feel threatened and like you were challenging their positions and superiority.

Which, in all truth, you were.

They were all sexist assholes, treating you and Peggy like brainless broads, as if you weren’t agents just like them.

Jack Thompson was one of the worst, finding pleasure and amusement in pissing the two of you, you especially, off.

You had disliked him all the way from the start but after the way he had treated you when suspecting you of helping Howard during his life as a criminal on the run, you could barely stand being in the same room as him.

You could barely breathe without it leading to some kind of sexist, oppressive comment leaving his lips and being thrown in your face.

Unlike other, well-mannered women who had known no other struggles than the ones of a housewife, you didn’t possess the power of self-restraint to keep quiet when being insulted or made fun off, and in the society you lived in, that wasn’t very ideal.

Especially not when your boss obviously valued the work of a man over that of a woman’s, too, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Needless to say, your big mouth and lack of impulse-control had put you in more than a few strained situations with your superiors at work.

Chief Dooley had even put you on suspension once when you had secretly gotten involved in a case that he had specifically forbidden you from partaking in. You really were your brother’s sister in those moments, and this time was no different.

Over the last three weeks, bodies of young women had been found all around New York City. The first week, five girls. The second week, four more and this week, two. But that was only so far, and the weekend still remained.

The girls all had their throats slit and their bowels brutally cut out. Being the serial killer-fanatic that you were, you instantly recognized the characteristics and realized in an instant that you were dealing with a Jack The Ripper copycat.

It wasn’t what the SSR usually dealt with but seeing as the killer had left a message specifically addressing you, the case was assigned to you.  

You knew you would have been able to help with the knowledge you had of Jack The Ripper, his strategies and his tendencies, but as usual, you were shut out of the investigation like you were with every case you showed the slightest of interest in.

One of the countless disadvantages of being a woman; you could impossibly have any information that the men didn’t already have.

So you were stuck at your desk, sulking and muttering to yourself while going through paperwork like every other day, slightly comforted by the fact that Daniel was willingly doing the same a few desks away from you, most likely having turned down any participation in the Copycat case out of pure pity for you.

It would have been a lot more tolerable if Peggy would have been there with you to keep you company, but for once in her life, she had taken the day off for the reasons she claimed and not because she was sneaking around poking her nose where it didn’t belong.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Bring us some coffee, will you?” A voice suddenly called out, breaking you free from your trance and pulling you back to reality with a jerk of surprise.

Your eyes instantly flickered over to the doorway on the other side of the room, completely oblivious to Daniel lightly snickering at your priceless reaction as your eyes found Johnson’s.

He was leaning back in his seat to be able to peek out of the office that him and the others who were on the Copycat case were currently residing, eyebrows raised and face pulled into an amused smile.

“Daydreaming again, are we?” He asked in a mocking tone and your face instantly pulled into a glare.

What the hell did he mean with again? You took your job more seriously than anyone, more so than him, more than Jack and possibly even more than Peggy. So what the hell was that supposed to mean?

You wanted to throw him a snarky reply but you stopped yourself, remembering that you were already on thin ice from the last time you had gone against the Chief’s orders.

So you sucked it up, breathing in a long breath through your nose and clenching your fists under your desks in an attempt to calm yourself, before forcing a smile onto your lips.

“Yes, I’m a bit distracted today.” You agreed with him through clenched teeth.

“I can see that.” He wasted no time in chuckling, raising his eyebrow. “So, coffee.”

The forced smile fell from your lips the second he uttered those two words, your eyes rolling. “Maybe if you ask nicely instead of bossing me around, then I could be so kind as to bring you coffee.” You replied.

As a response, it was his time to roll his eyes, before dramatically throwing his arms out and exclaiming loudly. “Oh, wonderful and talented (Y/N), please bring us some steamy, hot coffee so that we might behold your beauty if so only for a few seconds in these difficult times!”

You rolled your eyes once again, but nonetheless dropped the ballpoint pen that you were holding to the surface of your mahogany desk and stood up, brushing down your blouse. “I’ll be right there.”

A wide smirk spread across his face again. “Thanks, sugar.” He winked, and wasted not another second before leaning back into the room.

“Asshole.” You mumbled under your breath, shaking your head.

A chuckle came from down the room. “Duty calls, huh?” Daniel asked from his seat, where he had now turned away from his work to look at you with an amused expression on his face.

You narrowed your eyes at him, pointing a finger. “Don’t even start, Sousa.” You warned him, and turned around without waiting for a response to go bid to your co-worker’s command.

You put the cups neatly on a metal tray while you brewed some fresh coffee, pouring some milk into a small can and adding another small container with sugar cubes. All of that took no longer than a minute or two, so you stood there awaiting the coffee to be done impatiently the rest of the time.

When it finally finished bubbling, you took the pot and put it on the space you had saved on the tray and wasted no time in turning on your heel and heading for the open office.

The voices of Johnson and the two other agents in there became louder the closer you got and you quickly started suspecting that they weren’t working at all, something you got confirmed when you entered the room to find the case files pushed away on the table, the three of them instead flipping through a magazine.

The sight caused annoyance to bubble up in the pit of your stomach almost instantly and you had to quickly mask  your anger with a straight face when the three of them looked up at you at your entrance.

Putting the tray down in front of them, you nodded your head to the blue manila folders sprawled out on the table, raising an eyebrow at them. “Aren’t you supposed to be looking over the case files?”

They barely even acknowledged you, returning to the magazine with a wave of their hands. “We’re taking a small break.” They said. “We have a question for you actually.”

“That so?” You asked in a bored tone, paying them no mind despite feeling their gazes return to you, instead busying yourself with pouring them a cup of coffee each.

Johnson cleared his throat and as your eyes flickered up to look at them for the briefest of moments, you caught them exchanging glances while obviously trying to hold back smirks.

“Yeah, we were talking about our deepest, darkest sexual fantasies and how it would be interesting to know yours.” Johnson spoke and you raised an unimpressed eyebrow when the others attempted to hide their laughs by coughing into their hands.

He shrugged, the two of you now staring straight into each other’s eyes. “You rarely let on what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, makes a man wonder.” He smirked.

Your eyes narrowed into slits in an instant and you automatically put the pot back down on the tray, glaring. “I beg your pardon?” You scoffed and at that, Kesey leaned forward too, wearing a smirk to match his co-worker’s.

“Oh, come on, Stark. Don’t be a prude.” He said, causing the other two to chuckle.

You turned your attention to him. “He dies during foreplay and leaves me 1.3 billion dollars, that’s my fantasy.” You replied shortly, holding his gaze for a moment before returning your attention to the coffee.

They groaned, not at all satisfied by your answer. “No, but seriously.” They kept pressing and you sighed, once again lowering the coffee pot to look up at them.

“I don’t have time to ponder fantasies. If I want something, I go get it. I’m a go-getter.”

Johnson whistled, leaning back in his seat. “You know, you’re a pain in the ass, but… that’s kind of hot.”

“Wish I could say the same about you.” You fired back before you could stop yourself, watching as the smirk instantly fell off of all of their face.

“Why you always gotta be like that?” Kesey questioned, giving you an annoyed stare to which you only raised your eyebrows innocently.

“Be like what?” You asked, and he rolled his eyes.

“Sarcastic.” He replied. “You would be a lot more approachable and desirable if you just smiled more and talked back less.”  

“Yeah, because pleasing men is my main mission in life.” You rolled your eyes.

He glared right back at you but with a discouraging slap to his shoulder from Johnson, he just scoffed, turning his attention back to the magazine and allowing you to return to pouring them their cups of coffee.  

They started talking quietly among themselves, flipping through the paper that seemed to contain pictures of cars and women, but you managed to block their voices out for a good minute by putting all of your attention to the coffee, preparing it just the way you knew they liked it.

You were pretty sure you knew their preferences better than they did themselves at this point, and the same went for Peggy, with the ridiculous amount of times you’d both been forced to serve them like maids.

“God, what I would do to see her naked.” Was the first thing you heard when you finished pouring the coffee and zoned back into their conversation, looking up to see them looking down on a centerfold girl and wasting no time in scoffing, inviting yourself into the conversation.

“Do you know what I want to see?” You asked, holding Johnson’s eyes with a fierce glare when he looked up at the sound of the voice.

“What?” He asked and you scoffed again, putting the can of coffee down and shaking your head.

“A society in which the objectification of women makes way for gender-neutral interaction free from assumptions and expectations.” You threw a hand out to the folders of evidence lying to the side. “I can’t even begin to describe the density of illness I feel in my bone marrow right now, that is how appalled I am by all this. Women are dying and you’re supposed to solve the case, and yet here you are, wasting time and lookin-”

“Gentlemen.” Your rant was interrupted by Jack as he walked into the room, slapping another manila folder down on the table and raising his eyebrows at you in an easy smile. “(Y/L/N), you boring them with your feminist monologues again?”

“When is she not?” Johnson wasted no time in snorting back.

You glared at him, annoyed that he had spoken in your place, which only seemed to make Jack’s amusement grow. “What is with you and your constant preaching about the future being female?” He asked. “I mean, I know they say no dream is too big but come on, look around.”

He laughed and the others joined in immediately.

But you weren’t discouraged, crossing your arms over your chest and looking down at Jack who had now sat down in a chair, man-sprawling like his life depended on it. “You know, men who say that feminists want to overpower men probably know that there is already a gender imbalance and are threatened by the idea that gender roles will no longer be in their favor, so I’m only taking your insults as a compliment.”

Jack smirked up at you, nodding his head. “You do that.” He answered shortly and without even giving you a chance to reply, he turned his attention away from you like you were nothing, which only vexed you further.

“Any new leads on the suspect?” Johnson and the others turned their attention to their superior, all of them now ignoring you where you were standing with your arms still crossed over your chest.

Jack shook his head with a sigh, opening the manila folder he had brought with him and in turn urging the others to scramble for their folders.

“No, the lead turned out to be a dead end. This guy is good. We’ve had two new victims since yesterday and still no trace of him. He doesn’t leave anything behind, not a single fingerprint. It’s like he doesn’t even exist.”

“Whoa, whoa, woah, hold on.” You interrupted, holding a hand out and stepping closer to them. “Two new victims? Still all females? Why have I not been informed?”

Jack gave you an annoyed stare, obviously not happy about being interrupted. “You weren’t informed because it’s not your case, but yes. All female between the ages of sixteen and twenty-seven, all wearing uh…” He cleared his throat, averting his gaze from you. “Provocative clothing.”

“What does their clothing matter?” You scoffed. “They could’ve been strolling naked down the street and it still wouldn’t justify what happened to them. Women shouldn’t have to be modest to be respected.”

“If this is a Jack The Ripper copycat we’re dealing with then it does matter.” Jack looked back up at you. “Every victim so far have been women, dressed in suggestive, light clothing at the time of their deaths.”

“But none of them were prostitutes.” You pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

At this point, you were just talking back for the sake of arguing with him, knowing fully well that all of the evidence pointed towards a Copycat.

And Jack knew it. Not only because you had been the one to bring up Jack The Ripper in the first place, but because he also, no matter how much it pained you to say so, knew you and the way you functioned like the back of his own hand with how long you had been working together.

“No, but it’s obvious that their choice of clothing are provoking him. It’s the only thing tying them together and the only thing we have to go on.” He replied calmly despite his annoyance obviously increasing with every passing second.

You shrugged your shoulders, crossing your arms over your chest again. “Maybe he just doesn’t like blondes.”

“See, that’s what we thought at first, too. But the last two girls were brunettes, so there goes that theory.” He replied and you suddenly turned smug, realizing that he was giving you information on the case that wasn’t yours to possess.

But before you could dig any deeper, the Chief walked in with his own cup of coffee raised to his lips, and his eyes instantly found yours.

“Agent (Y/L/N), I thought I told you that you weren’t going to be on this case.” He told you, lowering the cup from his face and taking a seat at the head of the table.

“I’m- I was just bringing the hardworking men some coffee, sir.” You replied, clearing your throat, wiping your face free of emotion and uncrossing your arms.

He either didn’t notice the sarcasm in your tone or he just chose to ignore it, nodding his head in approval. “I left some paperwork on your desk and I need you to fill it out before the day is up because it needs to be posted to Los Angeles before the weekend. Each minute passing is a minute wasted so I suggest that you get to work.”

He waved a hand at you but before you could reply, Jack spoke up without looking at you. “And take your feminazi monologues with you.”

He was staring down into the case file, flipping through photographs of the crime scene, but it was clear that he could feel your glare burning into the side of his face with the way the corners of his lips tugged upward slightly.

You kept your gaze unwavering at him.

“The Nazis rounded up Jews, locked them in concentration camps, lined them up in gas chambers and performed genocide. When I’m asking, arguing and fighting for equal pay, equal opportunities, no judgement, and right over my own body, how is anything, apart from your fragile male ego, getting killed?” You asked, and he simply looked up at you with a wide grin, eyes squinted with mockery.

“Point taken, now go do your job.” He said causally and you could’ve sworn you felt your eye twitch right then and there.

But as earlier mentioned, you did posses slightly more control of your impulses than your brother, so you turned on your heel and walked out of the office with long, determined strides before you said or did something you would come to regret, closing the door behind you so that you wouldn’t have to hear their ridiculing chuckles.

“Well, I can see you’re not very happy but it was amusing as always to witness you in your natural habitat, so I hope it can provide you with some comfort to know that you’ve officially made my day.” A voice spoke not even a second later, and you felt relief flood your entire body at the sight of Peggy’s warm smile.

Your heels clicked against the wooden floors as you walked closer to her where she was leaning against your desk. “And what habitat would that be?” You questioned, watching as she raised an eyebrow.

“Putting disrespectful, sexist men in their place, rightfully so might I add, and being kicked out for doing so.”

“Yes, I fear it’s starting to become a habit of mine.” You chuckled, sinking down into your chair once you reached your desk.

Peggy pushed herself off the edge of said desk, uncrossing her arms and turning around to face her. “Starting to?” She asked, eyes sparkling with amusement.

You chuckled once more. “What are you doing here? I thought you took a day off.”

“I did.” She confirmed. “But my doctor’s appointment went quicker than expected so here I am.”

“Thank God for that.” You let out a loud breath, motioning with your hand to the large stack of papers now resting on your desk, looking at her guiltily. “Feeling helpful?”

All she did in response was smile, nod her head and pull a chair up to sit beside you, wordlessly grabbing the first paper.

With the help, it only took an hour to fill out all of the paperwork, but even though it would’ve taken much longer without the extra set of hands, you wished the time would’ve gone by quicker.

It was a Friday afternoon and there was nothing you wanted more than to go home, take off your heels, get out of your uncomfortable clothes and go to bed, and the last two hours of the day were always the longest, and hardest.

Once the paperwork was done, Peggy moved over to the breakroom to grab you a cup of coffee. She was the least exhausted out of the two of you seeing as she hadn’t been there the entire day and offered to do so, so that you could take a breather after the intense paperwork.

When she busied herself with that, you moved over to Daniel where he was still sitting at his desk, working hard.

You sparked up a conversation and became so engrossed in it you didn’t even realize another half hour went by and passed the end of your workday, also completely oblivious to the pair of eyes that instantly found you as the five men came out of the closed office.

Jack watched you laugh at something Sousa had said with an uncomfortable knot rapidly growing in the pit of his stomach, a sour taste growing in his mouth.

In a desperate attempt to get rid of the feeling of the anger bubbling up inside him, he raised his coffee cup to his lips and took a sip of the black beverage despite it having gone cold at that point.

He was so focused on watching you from afar, taking note of every move of your body and every flicker of emotion in your face, that he didn’t even notice Peggy coming up to his side until she cleared her throat and made her presence known.

Jack instantly tore his eyes away from you to look at the woman now standing beside him, only to find that she was looking straight at you, too.

“Why don’t you get off your high horse, swallow your pride and ask her out already?” She asked without looking at him, admittedly catching him by surprise.

“What?” He asked, chuckling nervously.

At that, Peggy turned to look at him, scoffing and giving him an unimpressed stare. “Oh, please.” She said. “Don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

His eyes hardened and his Adam’s apple bobbled as he swallowed. “I don’t.” He replied casually, taking another sip of his coffee.

But she didn’t believe him for a second, and wasted no time.

“One day, you’re going to see her holding hands with someone who took your chance. She won’t even notice you because she’s too busy laughing with the stupid jokes he makes. And it will burn your heart seeing that beautiful smile on her face and realizing that you’re not the reason. And then it will finally hit you that she’s always been the one.”

She smiled softly at him, eyes glazing over as she fell into deep thought at the last part, obviously thinking back to her time with Steve.

“Sousa and the others might be blind, but I’m not. I’ve seen the looks you give her when she’s not looking. I’m not stupid, Jack. But you are.”

Her words made his façade falter for the briefest of moments, but he quickly covered it up with his usual careless smile, raising an eyebrow. “And why would that be?” He asked.

He was appearing so sure of himself but Peggy Carter knew better; she always did.

“Because only an idiot would let a woman like her slip out of his fingers. And if you want to have a chance, you might want to hurry up, because you’re not the only one who’s got your eye on her.” She answered, nodding her head in your direction.

Jack turned his eyes back to you at the sound of her words, finding that Sousa was now nowhere in sight, the new intern now standing in front of you instead, the two of you conversing about something and both of you smiling.

He had been transferred to your unit only a few weeks prior, having fought in the war like the rest of you and lost one of his hands in the process, dooming him to a life-worth of desk work.

He’d had his eye on you ever since he arrived, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of them; especially not Jack.

“It doesn’t make you any less of a man to let a woman shine, and you better come to terms with that before you even think about getting close to her.” Peggy continued. “Because she’s not a woman to be kept in the dark. She deserves better than that.”

Jack swallowed again, his eyes never leaving your form as Peggy spoke, and not when she turned on her heel and walked away, either.

He took a moment to regain his composure after the conversation he’d just had, his mind at war with his heart after everything Peggy had just told him. He stood by, sipping his cold coffee and watching you, until the intern walked away from you.

The discouraged look on his face made him feel smug in some way, and he quickly threw back the rest of his coffee, putting the cup down on the closest surface and wasting no time in heading over in your direction.

It took no more than a few long strides to reach you at your desk. He came up behind you, watching over your shoulder as you packed your things into your bag that was standing on your chair.

He leaned against the short side of the mahogany table, tucking his hands into the pockets of his grey slacks and glancing at you.

“An admirer, I take it?” He asked casually, watching your every move.  

You made no move to turn around to look at him, simply continuing to pack down the papers you needed to take home over the weekend. “Well, he tried. Didn’t have much luck but you have to admire him for his attempt.”

Jack snickered. “You might not want to be too picky, you know, or you’ll end up alone eventually.”

“I’d take that over ending up divorced after settling for less than I deserve any day.”

“Touché. But no matter how hard you try to deny it the fact still remains at the end of the day that every woman needs a man, sooner or later.”

“I don’t need a man.” You replied, closing the flap of your bag and grabbing your coat from the back of your chair. “I need a family sized tub of chocolate chip ice cream and a bottle of tequila to drown my misery of having to work from a desk every day.”

You hurriedly started to put your arms into your sleeves, wanting nothing more than to get away from the conversation at hand and go home.

When you grabbed your bag off of the chair and turned around to leave, Jack pushed himself off the desk, finally catching your eye. “Well, that’s a shame because I was thinking, when you’re done flirting with cripples who have barely gone through puberty yet, that maybe we could go out sometime.”

You instantly rolled your eyes, completely missing the fact that he, in his own way, had just asked you out.

“Do you ever take a day off from being an asshole?” You asked. “Does it make you feel good about yourself to talk down on everyone?”

“I think those may be questions best pondered over dinner.” He offered again, raising his eyebrows.

You could only snort and roll your eyes once more. “Funny. I know your tactics work on pretty much everyone else, but they won’t do any good with me. Good night, Agent Thompson.”

Without wasting another second, you hung the strap of the bag of your arm, walking past him and not looking back.

But he just turned on his heel and walked after you, walking by your side with his hands still tucked into his pockets.

“We’re not on the clock anymore, you can call me Jack.” He said. “And the dinner proposal wasn’t a joke.”

“What? You’re like, asking me out on a date?” You snorted, without looking up at him and without ever slowing down.

In the corner of your eye, you could see his head shaking. “No, just… causal dinner. But…” He trailed off, shrugging. “If we happen to have sex afterwards, so be it.”

His words instantly drew a scoff from your lips and you stopped in your tracks, turning to look at him with a glare. Before you could say anything, however, he continued.

“Having sex once or twice a week has been proven to boost your immune system to help fight colds and the flu and I don’t know about you, but I don’t really enjoy being sick.”

You weren’t impressed, not in the slightest, your glare remaining unfaltering. “It’s a good thing I have a perfect immune system, then.” You fired back and moved to keep walking.

But this time, he rushed up in front of you, blocking you from continuing. “Come on, I’ve run out of reasons that we shouldn’t, haven’t you?”

“No.” You answered without a single doubt in your mind. “In fact, I couldn’t even count all of the reasons on both my hands. I don’t have enough fingers.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you quickly cut him off, raising your hands and beginning to count off your fingers.

“But let’s start with, uh, you’re an asshole. You’re constantly degrading me and treating me like I’m below you even though we have the exact same title and the exact same job. I’m an agent like you and yet, you treat me like I’m a secretary with no brains, like I’m not capable of literally everything you are. You’re a sexist pig and every day for the past two years, Peggy and I have been the targets of yours, the Chief’s, and everyone else’s oppression. So excuse me if I’m not jumping up and down with excitement at the thought of going out with you and becoming just another name on your endlessly long list.”

A long moment of awkward silence fell over the two as you finished your hateful rant. His mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water. For the first time since you had met him, you had left him speechless and taken the last word.

You thought, at least.

“Ouch. That hurt.” He spoke after a long moment, chuckling awkwardly.

His face was pulled into an expression of genuine hurt and for a moment, just for a moment, you felt guilty for going off on him the way you had. But then you remember that it was justified, and that he had it coming.

So you just hummed in response, averting your gaze to the floor. While you did so, Jack took a step closer to you and caught both you and himself by surprise by reaching out for your hand.

Your head instantly whipped back up at the sudden touch of his skin against yours, a sharp spark going through your skin and causing you to flinch.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to have noticed it. Either that, or he just didn’t care, instead looking down at you with warm, genuine eyes.

“Look, it’s a man’s world. It’s been a man’s world for as long as history goes, for as long as you and I have been alive, and we’re still living in it. But…” He paused, properly taking your hand into his. “I’m willing to learn how to look at it from another perspective.”

Your could feel yourself melting into his touch, your eyes softening but your face remaining stoic. You weren’t about to let your guard down that easily.

“I recall you calling  that my monologues about feminism boring no more than an hour and a half ago.” You pointed out, and watched as a lopsided smile slowly made its way onto his lips.

“Eh.” He tilted his head, shrugging again. “Not everything can be interesting. But that doesn’t mean it’s not necessary to learn.”

“Wow, this is… not like you at all.” You pointed out, eyes slowly narrowing. You tore your hand out of his grasp, taking a step back. “What’s going on? Did you make a bet with the guys or something? Is that it?”

“Do you really think that little of me?” He asked, looking genuinely offended.

But you only raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is this where I’m supposed to lie to protect your delicate, fragile male ego?”

He closed his eyes, raising his hand to his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, forget I asked.” He mumbled, breathing in deeply and lowering his hand again. “I had an eyeopener, that’s all. Realized that there’s always room for improvement in one’s character and view of the world.”

He was obviously dramatically articulating his words for extra effect, the sarcastic smile pulling at his lips only proving that further.

You gave him a doubtful once-over, but soon felt yourself relaxing, your arms uncrossing from over your chest and your head nodding slowly. “Well, whoever made you realize that you were being a grade A asshole, give them my thanks. I like this version of you much better than the one I’ve had to deal with every day for the last two years.”

He instantly raised an eyebrow at your halfhearted confession, lips once again beginning to pull into a smirk. “So is that a yes to the date?” He asked and you raised an eyebrow in return.

“I thought you said it wasn’t a date?” You teased.

He looked to the side briefly, smirking. “Well…” He shrugged.

You chuckled, nodding your head and biting down on the inside of your cheek lightly in an attempt to hide the smile threatening to break out on your face. “I’ll be ready at eight tomorrow night. I would tell you where I live but I believe you already know seeing as you and Johnson stalked me every night for an entire month when you thought I was hiding my brother from you.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “You knew about that the whole time?”

“I did, and you had no idea.” You chuckled. “The way you men think of us women as intellectually challenged works in our favor sometimes. We see so much more than you think.”

He grinned, unbeknownst to you feeling extremely proud of you in that moment.

Before he got the chance to say anything else, you gave him a nod of your head and offered him a wholehearted, sincere smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jack.” You told him, and then pushed past him without waiting for a reply, walking away from him with butterflies in your stomach; the very same ones you had felt the first time you met him.

Before he opened his big mouth, that is.

But everyone was capable of change, and you silently thanked whatever person that had helped him on the right path to his sudden epiphany. 

Although, you believed you already knew.

Who else but Peggy?

Tagged: @corishirogane3​ @trenchcoatedwings​ @microwaved-timmies​

(If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, send me a message, ask or leave a comment)

#jack thompson imagine #jack thompson x reader #jack thompson #chad michael murray #marvel #marvel one shot #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #agent carter #captain america #peggy carter #s.h.i.e.l.d.

[lesbian-deadpool]

“Soulmates”

Part Two Of Three: It’s All For You

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 3,273

Warnings: Canon, loneliness, grief… I’m sorry.

Request: For the anon who donated to the Australian Bushfires, who wanted angst. Well, you got it, buddy.

Summary: You.

A/N: Thanks again, to @missmonsters2 for helping me out with this idea.

(Not my GIF)

***

The world cried that night- The whole universe. The entire universe grieved as one that night. Every being had been affected, in the worst of ways, thanks to Thanos’s doing.

They were awake, of course they were. All of the Avengers were. That is, all of the surviving Avengers. No one was going to sleep tonight. it was pointless in even trying, really. But still, they did. Too exhausted with the battle and distraught with the loss, that all they could do, was lay in bed, and hope for sleep to take them away from this; This new-found, living nightmare.

And that’s where Natasha lay, curled up in the bed temporally given to her, in the Wakandan palace. Her friends laying in the surrounding rooms. Or if you were Rogers, pacing a hole into the floor. Natasha’s eyebrows were furrowed, as she replayed the whole fight, over and over again. Going through everything that she did wrong, could have done better, and could have done differently. Anything to make sure that the outcome was different. That they won.

Then she got to you.

You.

She watched you disappear over and over again. It was so vivid. Like she was living it all over again. The way your eyes dulled as she held you in her lap, how cold and dry your sweaty forehead had been when she kissed it. How you had vanished as soon as she had told you she loved you. She wasn’t even sure you had heard her. A part of her was glad. That way, if you came back, she wouldn’t have to deal with the heartbreak of you rejecting her, and her love. But mostly she was glad. Glad to get that off her chest. And after so long. Hoping deep in her heart, that she was able to give you some form of comfort and love, during your last seconds. And if she did manage to bring you back- bring you all back. Then she would happily deal with the heartbreak and everything that came with it. Because, at least then, you would know how she truly felt. And she just knew that she would remember this day- The sight of you turning to ash in her arms. Just as vividly, for the rest of her life.

Natasha didn’t even bother to wipe away the unstopping tears, that rolled down her cheeks. The salty water trails almost burning at her skin, just as it did her eyes, leaving her skin tight and irritated in their wake.

No.

She didn’t wipe them away. She just held onto herself. Tightly.

Just like you had done on many occasions. Too many, for her to even count. The way you would hold her after one of her nightmares, etched deeply into her mind. It was always you. You were there for her. Even if one of you were away and she had to call you in the middle of the night, just for you to calm her down, and tell her everything would be alright. Staying on the phone with her, until she fell back asleep, talking to her as she did. You made her feel safe. Always. For the first time in her life, she felt protected. Like she could get her guard down, as she lay in your arms. Soaking up in the warmth that you had offered her.

God, she fucking missed you.

So much.

And it hadn’t even been a day yet.

Exhaustion. That was the word best to describe Natasha at this point. Hardly able to keep her eyes open. The only thing keeping her awake, being the fresh grief pulsing throughout her body.

She needed sleep. Desperately. And she knew that. But with the thought of you replaying in her mind. She just couldn’t.

She needed you. At this moment, more than she ever had before.

You were always her hero. But you weren’t there to save her right now.

And God, she wished you were.

Burning filled Natasha’s eyes as she closed them. In one last sleepy bid to get some rest. Pushing the thoughts of you turning grey and crumbling away in her hands, from her mind. Instead choosing to think of your smile. The way it lit up a room, no matter how large, or sad it was. How it managed to fill her cold heart with warm brightness, like you had caged the sun and gifted it to her, letting it shine away in her heart.

Your silly jokes, that she would pretend to have, but would “secretly” adore. You knew this, of course. That’s why you told so many. Because of the small smile that would take over her face, and the way she would turn her head to hide it away from you.

How you would press a soft, warm kiss onto her forehead before you left for anywhere. If you- Or she had a mission. On your way to buck up some groceries, take out, or even going on a coffee run for everyone. If you were going home. Even the times you had left movie night early, because you were so tired, and just had to go to bed. Or else you would fall asleep where you said, and risk getting pranked by the boys. Who would try to graffiti your face with sharpie, stuff popcorn down your clothes, or do the classic ‘hand in water as you slept’ prank. If not for the red-head by your side, protecting you.

Ignoring the thought of ‘you’ll never see those again’ as best as she could.

In that moment, it felt almost as if your arms had curled around her, chin resting on her shoulder. And for that moment. For that one, what her old trainers would have called ‘weak’, moment. She allowed herself to think that you were there with her. That you were looking over her. You were there to keep her safe. To remind her that everything was going to be alright.

With that thought, Natasha finally fell into a tear-induced sleep. Dreaming of you, your smiling face, and the thought of your arms wrapped around her. Before it turned into your face, turning to ash, and drifting away with the breeze.

***

The next morning Natasha awoke to the thought of you, as to be expected.

With a hand upon her head, gazing up at the ceiling, her thought of you turned to your family.

Your family.

Oh God. Were they still here? Were they still alive?

And so that’s where Natasha lay, the morning after your death, scrolling through her phone, tracing the survival of your parents, and siblings. With bated breath.

The world had worked quick. Quicker than Natasha had ever expected. They had begun tracing all of the ‘Vanished’ as they had dubbed it. The list was few and far between, so Natasha totally disregarded it in her search. She was a super spy, she could easily find out if your family was alive, without the help of some website.

And what she found. Was truly devastating.

They were gone.

Every one of them.

Your parents. Your siblings. All of them. Even your Goddamn family dog.

Gone.

They were so proud of you.

You had once offhandedly told Natasha about how much they would talk about you, one night as you were having a drink at the bar together, to anyone who would listen. Telling them about how ‘their child was an Avenger’, ‘they were out there saving the world’, and how ‘you were a hero’. And you were. You were the greatest hero Natasha had ever seen.

At least they were with you. Wherever you were. If you were even anywhere. Lord knows that Natasha didn’t believe in any God that people would tell her about. The world was too cruel a place for any God to be overlooking it “protecting it” for them not to be a dick, because of all of the hate and cruelty this world has endured. Along with countless others across the universe.

Then Natasha was onto her next mission.

Penny Marring: Alive.

Natasha had some form of relief at that. Dropping her phone, and hand that held in onto her chest, her other hand balling into a fist, the fingers coming to rest against her lips, as tears started to well up into her eyes once again. At least you would have been happy at the fact that Penny was alive and well. Undoubtedly worried sick about you.

Fuck.

She had to tell her about you.

She had to know. And it had to come from her, and no-one else.

And so she did.

That same day, they were off, flying back to New York. Back home. To the compound, that was still alive with your memories. The memories that they could positively feel upon the deafeningly quiet quinjet.

The second they landed, they were bombarded with rushed questions from Pepper.

Natasha let Steve, Bruce, and Thor fill her in. But sadly that knew nothing of Tony, his whereabouts, or if he was even still alive. Along with the others that were with him. Natasha choosing to instead, show Rocket, the talking raccoon, to a place where he can stay for a while, and where the kitchen and other necessary rooms were.

Before she was off.

On her way to go break the love of your lives heart.

‘The love of your life’.

Natasha couldn’t help but hate the fact that you used to call her that, on so many occasions. Breaking her heart, more than it already was, every time you did.

Before she knew it she was standing before your and Pennys shared Appartement.

‘Well, just Penny’s now’.

A vicious voice spoke in the back of her mind. Causing all of the feelings, she had pushed away to come flooding back, akin to a tidal wave crashing down on her.

The sound of rushed footsteps on the other side of the door she had just knocked on, only made Natasha’s heart ache more.

The door hastily swung open, with at panicked, but relived, “Y/N?”

Penny’s face dropped at what she saw.

Natasha. And no you.

She broke down, not needing Natasha to say anything to tell her what happened. She knew you had disappeared with half of the world. She just didn’t know it was half of the universe.

Natasha couldn’t stop the streams of tears flowing down her face.

“I’m so sorry,” she choked out. Not knowing what to do, as she watched Penny’s knees grow week, forcing her to grip tightly to the doorframe, so she wouldn’t fall to her knees.

***

“I know.”

Penny’s raw voice drew Natasha from her far off daze. Blinking a few times, to regain herself, Natasha turned her head to look at the distraught girl sitting by her side on the sofa.

“Know what?”

“That you love her.”

Natasha’s breath got caught in her throat.

“It’s okay.” The brunette shrugged. “Who wouldn’t love her, really?”

“I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean too-”

“No one means to fall in love, Natasha. Not really,” she said, reaching over to grab Natasha’s hand, squeezing it lightly in comfort.

“She loved you too, you know?” Penny continued, drawing a shocked look from Natasha. She couldn’t breathe. You loved her? That wasn’t possible. You were so deeply in love with the girl by her side, that it was insane. You were perfect together. Everybody thought so, “Like really in love with you. You were all they would talk about.” She let out a small teary laugh. “I’m sorry, too.”

“Why do you have anything to be sorry for?”

“I guess…” she breathed out a deep sigh. “I was just taking as much of her time as I could before you inevitably got together.”

Natasha shook her head, wishing for Penny to stop. This hurt too much, no matter how relieved Natasha felt that her feelings were, supposedly, reciprocated.

“And now she’d gone,” Penny concluded, “And you don’t get to spend your life with her.”

“Don’t be silly, she never would have left you.”

“Natasha,” she chuckled lightly, “If you would have tried, she would have chosen you in a heartbeat.”

She left a couple hours after that, making sure Penny would be alright by herself. When the girl had confirmed enough for her liking, Natasha finally took her leave.

Once the door closed behind her, she was free to berate herself for not confessing to you long ago.

Maybe things would have turned out differently if she had.

No.

Of course, they wouldn’t.

It was always going to end up this way.

Nothing could have stopped you vanishing.

Penny was such a nice girl, and she just wanted a slither of your love, before you left. And now she felt guilty for taking up all of your time, and Natasha hated herself for honing such disdain for the brunette.

And so Natasha started her walk back to the Compound, intending on climbing into bed, and crying this day away, before she had to busy herself with life and her duties to the world, the following day.

***

The year had dragged on incredibly slow, it was only to be expected.

It was the anniversary of ‘The Snap’.

And Natasha was alone at the compound, left to suffer with her grief alone. With nothing but a text from Steve, talking about some bullshit silver lining, or whatever. She couldn’t be mad at the boys. Not really. They had decided to move on. Sometimes she desired to do the same. Then the thought of you popped into her mind, and she just couldn’t bring it in herself to leave. She just wished that the guys would show that they cared more about the fact that you were gone. Of course, they missed you. They grieved you alongside Natasha. But they didn’t feel the same for you, that she did.

She needed you back.

Natasha was resilient, you had once called her ‘as stubborn as a mule’ which she guessed was true; but at times, exactly like this one, she was glad for that trait of hers. Which is why, beyond her better judgement, as she peered up at the start night sky, a glass of strong liquor in her hand, your choice of drink, and a lone tear rolling from her eye, she promised with everything she had, that she would get you back.

***

Four years later.

Time had dragged on. That’s for sure. 

It was meant to get easier, wasn’t it?

That’s what everyone said.

“The pain will fade”, “You’ll get over it”, “It will dull over time. Soon you’ll be able to live life like normal again”.

Yeah, well Natasha called bullshit on all of that.

Every. Single. Bit. Of. It.

The pain never left. It was with her when she awoke, all the way through the day, until her head hit your her pillow and she fell asleep within seconds out of pure exhaustion.

On most days, it was even with her as she slept. The pain rearing its ugly head and plaguing her dreams as nightmares.

She never got over it. How was she supposed too, really? It was impossible. How could she get over what happened? How could she get over everyone who disappeared? How could she, seriously, get over you?

It never dulled.

She just learned how to live around it.

Life changed. Nothing was as it was before. Nothing was normal. And if she was being honest with herself, she knew that it would never be normal ever again.

Natasha wished you were there. God, how she wished you were there.

You would make the cold, empty compound better in every conceivable way.

She thought that every day. And that’s where she was now.

Sitting at her desk, which was previously the compounds dining table, a glass of scotch in front of her, as the sun slowly set. Stewing in her own thoughts.

Natashas thoughts of you soon turned to Penny, after remembering all the times you had brought her to the compound.

She had met someone new.

A guy named Phillip something or other, Natasha had run into them at the store a little over a year back. He seemed nice, treat her well, and loved her, too. They were married at that time. And Natasha couldn’t help but think of how she would have never been able to do that. She would have never been able to get over you. After all. She wasn’t.

Steve told her that she should.

Repeatedly.

“I tell everyone they should move on. But not us. We don’t. We should. She’d want you’d to move on, Nat.”

That’s what he’d say, every single time he came over.

He ignored him.

Steve understood her. He lost Peggy in a similar way and was forced to move on, too. But in some self-destructive way, she didn’t want to move on. She wanted to keep on hoping, that someday she would find a way to bring you back. Because if she stopped hoping… she knew it would destroy her.

***

Thank God, for Scott and his quantum physics stuff. And thank God, for Tony Stark, for having enough brains to create a time machine, and have it fully up and functional.

The team was back together, with a couple of additions. That was all Natasha had ever wanted, for her “found family”, ever since those stupid accords were created. For them to stick together.

And here they were. They were going to bring you back. They were going to bring you all back.

For the first time in a long time, Natasha felt happy. And no matter how much hope she tried to have during those five lonely years, she hadn’t felt this much hope. For anything, really.

She could practically feel the excitement buzzing throughout her, as she stood on the circular podium, ready to get shot off into the past.

Natasha just could not wait to see your face again.

The face she had thought and dreamt about, every day that you were gone.

And now she was going to get you back.

Whatever it takes.

***

It was cold.

Natasha was cold.

She attributed that to the fear coursing through her body, at this moment. Dangling off the side of a high cliff, hand clasped tightly in Clint’s sweaty palm. Looking up at him, as he cried and begged for her not to do this.

She didn’t wast too. Not really. She wanted to see your face again. Tell you that she loved you and have you be able to reply this time, no matter what that reply would be. But this was something that she had to do. She had to get you back. She just had too.

“Natasha, don’t do this. Please,” Clint whimpered.

“I have too.”

“No, you don’t. Y/N. You have to see Y/N, again.”

“Tell her I love her,” Natasha spoke, almost as if she was confessing it to you. Wishing that she was looking at your face, and not Clints. But in a much nicer circumstance.

“Tell her yourself.”

“Let me go,” Natasha whispered, “It’s okay.”

Natasha fell backwards, with the sound of Clints screams all around her. And the thought of you in her mind.

Because, she contemplated, if she couldn’t see you in the flesh, one last time. Then the thought of you would be the next best thing.

With the memory of you in her mind. Your smiling face, bright eyes, and warm shining being. Natasha wasn’t scared anymore.

Because you were with her. Until the very end.

Taglist:

@womenlovingwomen-imagines, @shycucumbersandwich, @jxst-livin-my-life, @rofl987, @saltymaddiee, @marvelb00kwolf, @kangerland, @hernanadez-23

#original work #original fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU #tw slight flashing gif #tw flashing gif #slight flashing gif #flashing gif

[brelione]

The Surfer And The Siren

Chapter Three:The Conspiracy Blog,The Investigation and The Shitty Sister In Law

Chapter One       Chapter Two

Warnings:Mentions of racism,homophobia

S0rry that this chapter is kind of short.The next one will be longer.

You didn't understand how you had never found out about this.The article was from 2012 by a conspiracy blog.There were dozens of photographs of you,a bright red circle showing where you was in group photos that were taken in the fifties and more from the seventies.There were a few photos of your large scales the size of quarters that had been found on coral reefs and posted on facebook with captions asking for someone to tell the finder what animal the scale belonged to.Another photo showed a photo of your fluke splashing out of the water.In some your hair had been tucked into your old red hat so the mess of blue waves wouldn't be seen.But somehow those photos had been linked to others from the bridge of your nose and the color of your skin.You kind of missed the old days before all the facial recognition technology.

You went through the photos to see paragraphs and paragraphs with quotes from the interview with Linden. “Linden Sislip,sister of poet and former pawn shop owner claims that her brother was in love with the sea monster of Outer Banks.For decades a murderous mermaid-like creature has haunted the waters and supposedly lured multiple men to painful water related deaths.Outerbanks is known as Paradise on Earth and is home to countless millionaires AKA the sea monsters preferred prey.Some think the creature has migrated elsewhere because of a string of similar deaths closer to California.What do you think?”That article had to be the most bull shit thing you had ever read.Luckily most of the comments agreed,calling the photos fake and saying the scales were that of a tuna’s.

That was pretty insulting to say the least but at least they didn't actually believe you were a serial killing sea monster.That made you feel better but knowing how much Linden hated you definitely hurt a bit.She had hated most people though.She hated the poor,people of color,lgbt+,cats and babies.What kind of sociopath hates cats and babies?You couldn't wrap your head around the fact that somehow she was raised by the same parents he was yet she ended up like that.He was ahead of his time.He was respectful and kind and he loved everyone regardless of social status,race or sexuaity.That’s what made you feel so close to him.Linden had always stared in disgust when he bought extra newspapers to bring to people who couldn't afford them or when he saved his food to bring to children whose parents worked three jobs and still couldn't pay for a decent meal.

You pitied Linden,you couldn't even imagine being that closed minded and ignorant.Things were much worse in the South for sure but you tried your best to get to people.After he had passed away Linden had forced the rest of the family to completely shut you out.You couldn't go to the funeral or even go into their home to grab things that you could remember him by.She blamed you fro his death when she should have blamed herself.It was a terrible thought because in reality there was noone to blame but he had spent so much time in his life trying to convince her to be a good person and convince her to respect people.It had been a waste of years trying to wear her down and make her good but you cant help them all.

The interview didn't really shock you that much.She had always been bitter about you and your origins bit what did shock you was the fact that she had a son in 1950.A son named Bellamy Maybank. “Shit.”You whispered under your breath.Richard waited for you to explain your shock but when you didn't say anything he grew impatient. “What?”He asked.You just nodded,trying to form words.This was real life.This wasnt some weird dream or a conspiracy.This was actually real.This article was published 8 years ago and you had never seen it.

How could you have never seen it?You wondered if Richard knew and had hid it from you but that couldnt be.He knew just as little as you did. “You were right...but theres a time gap.How good are you at investigating?”You asked.A wide smile came across his mature,wrinkly face. “Are you forgetting about how I sunk Ward Cameron’s boat and completely trashed his plans in like...two hours?”He asked.You laughed quietly.Richard had always been so proud of that. “God,how could I forget?”You grinned,looking back up at the TV. “So what do you need me to find out?Make me a list in my notes app.You know which one the notes app is,right?”He teased.You rolled your eyes,opening the app and making a new note.

Close the time gap (after 50-now)

Learn about JJ,Pope,Kiara and the other one.

Check up on Ward’s plans

It had been a hot minute since you had Richard investigate someone.Last time had been nearly 20 years ago.Turns out Ward Cameron was hunting you down in attempt to kidnap and sell you.he was a fucked up son of a trout and you would most definitely say that to his face if given  the chance.You placed the phone down,looking back up at the tv.The main character was threatening a rude looking blonde boy with terrible fashion sense. “Could we drive around for a while?”You asked.He nodded,standing up from his chair.His feet were sore but he always pulled through for you.You two went back out to his car.He turned on your favorite CD that belonged to Billie Eilish.So much had changed since just a few years ago.Someone like Billie would absolutely be an outcast back when you were her age.

Something about the way that cars moved made you happy.It was strange to see the world shifting around you.How poor people rode horses and the rich had cars and how the tables had turned.You had seen so many wars and so many deaths yet you had watched multiple births.You watched segregation end and witnessed people of all races and ethnicities get the right to vote.You had seen the day that the lgbt community finally got rights.And you had helped with it all.You had experienced the life of the poor and of the filthy rich and you were only a quarter through your life.You had been a friend to Marilyn Monroe and saw the day that JFK was assassinated.You had seen so much that no one else had experienced.

You had heard so many old folks complain about the music of today and how it had been so much better back in their day but you could not disagree more.There was no reason to bash the modern ones music.All music is good music except for country music,of course.Richard drove through figure 8 so you could gaze at all the houses.It was quite disgusting that there were only an average of three people living in huge mansions with six bedrooms that they didn't need yet there were families of eight suffering in tiny houses made for three people maximum.The rich were greedy,bitter and overall selfish and annoying.

The poor were generous and grateful for everything they did have and were more likely to be kind and understanding.It was really just a sad place but you didn't want to go anywhere else.A lot of other areas had water that was far too polluted but definitely had better people and a better atmosphere on land.It didn't really matter how great the land was when you could only see it once a month anyways.Plus OBX had a great cave system and pretty nice weather.Richard turned his car,going back to The Cut.If you were to live anywhere in Outer Banks it would most definitely be The Cut.It had an all around better atmosphere,friendlier people and better hiding spots. “So how are the naiads?Have you heard from them?”He asked,purposefully driving slowly.You sighed,turning down the radio. 

“Not really,the only river entrance got blocked off by a ton of fallen branches.I haven't gotten any calls from them though so thats good.Its not that I don't like them or anything but they're just….god,they're so annoying.”You leaned back in your chair.He chuckled. “Does Esmerelda still have a crush on you?”He asked,turning down the dirt road.You nodded. “She’s just….she’s cute but she’s annoying,you know?”You asked.He nodded. “That ones always been kinda strange in the head.”He agreed.Once you got back to the house the sky was lightening up which meant you had such little time.You sat in the backyard in one of the camping chairs with your paper bag in your hand and the drawstring bag hanging off your shoulders.Blue sat with his head on your knee,staring up at you with his big shiny eyes.

He knew the drill by now,his drool making a dark puddle on your jeans as he whined for attention before you had to leave again.Richard had tried to bring the dog out to see you before but it never worked out.Blue got eager and excited and walked to fast for Richard and it wasn't safe for a dog to walk along rough and bumpy rocks.It wasn't exactly safe for an elderly man either but it sucks to suck.You stared up at the sky,wiggling your toes while you still could.As the sun began to come up over the horizon a similar aching pain spread from your heels to your thighs,your body feeling heavy. “I’ll see you next week,(Y/N).”Richard stood up to hug you.You hugged him back,tears pricking at your eyes.

Blue pawed at you,licking your jeans.You kissed his forehead lightly before limping down to the water.You dragged yourself into the water,collapsing when you were at your knees.Your legs tingled,your head slipping under the water as your legs knit together in a painful mess.From below your hips your tail grew,your hair falling in your face as all evidence that you had been human left you.Your hend clenched the deteriorating paper bag as you swished your fins,gaining control over your body again.The sun was now reflecting off the water,nearly blinding you.You ducked under the water,going deeper and deeper.

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[mischievousmoony]

Doubtful || pt. VI

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: An unexpected team-up between you, a Slytherin, and the proud Gryffindors that go by “The Marauders” causes an unexpected relationship between you and the one and only Sirius Black.

Warnings: none

Masterlist

Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV // Part V // Part VI

––––––––––

You and Sirius were conversing merrily when someone grabbed your arm. You tensed up, thinking about how the last few times someone did that ended with you being forced away into an unused classroom.

However, you were pleased to hear, “Y/N! I haven’t seen you all week!” It was just your friend from Hufflepuff, “Where have you been?”

You relaxed, smiling at her and explaining that you were simply busy, leaving out that avoiding a gang of wannabe Death Eaters was the reason.

Meanwhile, Sirius had just made eye contact with his other friends leaving Three Broomsticks. He waved them down with his free hand.

Upon noticing his friend, James started making all sorts of excited hand signals. Sirius had no idea what was going on. He looked to his other two friends for help, but Remus was only standing there with a smirk on his face and Peter seemed to be laughing. It was only when James finally decided to point at something that Sirius got it.

Sirius’ eyes followed the direction of James’ finger to reach his own hand. Intertwined with yours!

Suddenly, Sirius was bright red. He mouths to his friends, “I had no idea!” 

Peter started laughing harder and Remus joins him with some chuckles of his own. 

“What do I do?” Sirius mouths to his friends. James just continues to make obscure hand gestured that Sirius does not understand. While Sirius was trying his best to interpret them, you were completely oblivious to the silent conversation, having been in a discussion of your own.

Your Hufflepuff friend leaned close to your ear and, in a whisper, asks, “So when did you and Sirius Black become a thing?”

“What!?” Your face immediately begins to warm up. In a hushed tone, you say, “We’re not! Where did you get that idea?”

Your friends gaze lowers to something and your eyes follow to find Sirius’ large hand wrapped around yours. 

You gasp, the shade of pink on your face deepening into a red. You open your mouth to respond but before you can a beam of light shoots between you and Sirius, causing you two to break apart. 

“Sorry to break it up, love birds,” a voice that could only belong to Rabastan Lestrange calls out. His voice alone makes your blood boil. 

You and Sirius turn around, wands out and ready for a fight. It looks like detention was over, because all seven of the Slytherin boys stood before you, matching your stance with their wands out as well. 

James, Remus, and Peter were quick to come to your and Sirius’ aid. 

“Well look at that,” you said, “the boyband got over their stage fright.”

Rabastan scowled, “We’re tired of waiting and it doesn’t matter. We can do just as much damage with your fanboys at your side.”

“Aw,” you placed your free hand over your heart, “you’re learning how to talk back! Glad to see I’ve had an impact on you!”

That must have made him mad, because after that he fired the first shot. 

All of a sudden, beams of different colored light were shooting across Hogsmeade in all directions and students and other residents of the village were scattering away to safety. 

The Marauder’s were each in a one-on-one duel: Sirius against Mulciber, James against Snape, Remus against Rosier, and Peter against Wilkes. 

Lestrange and Avery had ganged up on you. You were their main target so they wanted to make sure they had as many people on you as possible.

But that just left one person. The one person in all of Hogsmeade who wasn’t either running or fighting: Regulus Black. He simply stood at the sidelines, watching, wand out but left at his side. 

“What are you doing, Black?” Avery shouted at him after unsuccessfully trying to cast a slippery jinx on your wand, “Don’t just stand there!”

Regulus inhaled sharply. Suddenly, he had a choice. His brother and you or the Death Eaters. There was a pit in his stomach. It seemed that choosing a side in this simple childish fight was more important than it looked on the surface.

If he chose his friends, he wouldn’t be able to turn back. It would be the final straw that if broken would not allow you or Sirius to ever forgive him. If he chose to fight alongside you and his brother, the path he’s been following that made his pureblooded parents oh so proud would be blocked forever. 

That’s why it was so important. After this, he wouldn’t be able to change his mind because there would be no one to go to if he did. 

A part of him wanted to just walk away and forget all of it. To just turn around and walk back up to Hogwarts like none of it was even happening. Maybe he would’ve if it hadn’t been for what happened next. 

“What’s wrong, little brother?” Sirius teased, “Scared your hair gel won’t hold? Or do you just not have the guts?”

Regulus felt the anger build up inside him. For that moment, he didn’t care about what anyone thought of him. He just wanted to make Sirius angry. 

So he shot sectumsempra at Sirius, who luckily used the protection spell at the last second. Sirius looked at his brother wildly. You all have seen Snape use that spell before. If Regulus had been successful...

Your breath hitched. You had been watching Regulus contemplate his next move. You almost thought he would do the right thing. You scoffed at yourself for being naive, but you were still hurt. The hope you had for Regulus had just been taken away.

In your moment of distraction, Lestrange and Avery had the upper hand. At the same time, they each hit you with the knockback jinx sending you flying into the side of a building.

You groaned in pain as they walked closer to you, a menacing smirk on each of their faces.

But of course, Sirius had been keeping an eye on you throughout the whole duel, so he saw these events occur.

As Lestrange and Avery took their time making their way over to you, basking in what they thought was their victory, they gave Sirius just enough time to petrify both Mulciber and his brother and come to your aid.

Sirius jumped in front of you, sliding just a little bit on the mud beneath his feet.

“Look who’s come to try to save his girlfriend,” Avery said patronizingly.

“Not try to save,” Sirius responded, “just save.”

And then just like that, the beams of different colored lights and energies were shooting through the air again.

“This seems a little familiar,” Sirius called between spells, “Don’t you think?”

Sirius brought you back to the first time you met him. The first time he came to your rescue.

“And just like last time,” he continued, “you’re taking too long to get back up!”

You barked a laugh, jumping to your feet at once, “I was just letting you get your exercise.”

“Please,” Sirius scoffed, “Dueling them is more like a walk in the park.”

The duel went a lot more smoothly now that Mulciber and Regulus were taken out of the mix. James, Remus, and even Peter had already gotten the upper hand on their opponents. And now that you and Sirius were one on one with Leatrange and Avery respectively, it wasn’t long before you both dominated the duels as well.

But before you could really finish them off, the fight was interrupted. Everyone’s wands suddenly flew out of their hands. Uh oh.

––––––––––

You couldn’t believe how lucky you were. Walking out of Slughorn’s office, you couldn’t even be mad about your punishment.

You may have been banned from participating in a Hogsmeade weekend for the rest of the year and you may have been given a truckload of detentions, but you honestly should’ve been expelled. A fight like that usually wasn’t taken lightly. Especially since the entire group of Slytherin boys ended up in the hospital wing. So, you walked with a pep in your step, even though you were walking to detention.

Ten minutes later, the pep was gone. You were dragging a cart of books through the library, having been tasked with reshelving them. The books in the cart were completely disorganized and you wouldn’t be surprised if that was on purpose. It would take you all day to make your way back and forth through the library to find the home of all these books. And you had to do it alone... or so you thought.

As you were about to place a book about mandrakes on the shelf you found yourself looking into a pair of light blue eyes. You gasped, startled, and the book slipped from your hand and fell to the ground.

Sirius was smirking at you through the space in the bookshelves from the other side. You were about to shout at him for scaring you, but he put a finger to his lips. You settled for giving him and angry glare.

The Gryffindor jerked his head to the left to gesture to meet him at the end of the aisles and then he disappeared. You abandoned your cart and the fallen book to meet him. 

The first thing you did when you saw him was slap him in the arm, “That’s for scaring me!” 

Sirius hissed in pain, rubbing his arm as he shushed you, “We aren’t supposed to be talking. Pince said absolutely no socializing with the other delinquents.”

You rolled your eyes, whispering in a playful tone, “She really called us delinquents and expected us to follow the rules?”

Sirius chuckled while you changed the subject, “So how’d it go with McGonagall?”

“Threatened expulsion. But thanks to Lestrange taking the first shot, we were technically acting in self-defense, so we live to see another day at Hogwarts,” Sirius responded.

“Sluggy wouldn’t ever threaten me with something like that, he loves me too much,” you said, thinking of the countless Slug Club parties he’s invited you to that you never attended, “But he did ban me from Hogsmeade and probably gave me more detentions than there are days left in the year.”

“Yeah, me and the others got the same. But hey, we’ll be in this together, yeah?” Sirius asked rhetorically, “Plus, it was worth it. That was some fight.”

You nodded, “And I don’t think there will be another one.” Sirius tilted his head curiously and you explained, “I think they learned their lesson. I was the only one sent to Slughorn because every single one of them had to make a pitstop at the Hospital Wing first.” 

Sirius erupted in laughter, probably imagining the seven groaning in their hospital beds. He covered his mouth to quiet himself down as to not attract the attention of Pince. You couldn’t help but find that so terribly cute and a soft smile grew on your face as you watched Sirius bask in the victory. 

“Hello?” Sirius dragged out the ‘o’ as he waved a hand in front of your face, “Is there something on my face or am I just so attractive that I’ve left you speechless?”

You snapped out of it, not missing a beat and saying, “Actually, you’re right there is something on your face.”

Sirius’ smile turned into a frown, “What!? Where?” He began dragging his hands all over his face to get what was supposedly on it off. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” you brought your hand up to his face and flicked him in the nose. 

Sirius caught your hand just after you did, scowling at you playfully for tricking him.

But now it was his turn to get distracted. His eyes darted to his hand that was wrapped around yours. Then, feeling bold, he shifted his hand around until his fingers were intertwined with yours. 

Once again, Sirius was holding hands with you. But, this is the first time he meant to.

Your breath hitched in your throat, eyes trained on Sirius’ face that displayed an unreadable expression.

“I think,” Sirius moved his gaze from your intertwined hands and back to your eyes, taking a deep breath as he did so to prepare himself to continue, “I think it’s time for me to tell you that secret you wanted to hear this morning.”

You stayed silent to allow him to continue.

“It’s like… okay I-” Sirius gulped, “You… There’s something about you. You’re special! Like, in a good way, of course. And you make me really nervous, which has never happened before… and I don’t really know how to do this,” Sirius laughed nervously.

As he continued his rambling, the grin on your face grew wider and wider until you finally decided to put him out of his misery. 

You took a step closer, got on the tips of your toes, and kissed the boy in front of you. 

It was innocent and short, and when you pulled away Sirius was beaming. 

“Thanks,” he said, and then mentally kicked himself for saying that.

You giggled softly, “You sounded like you needed some help.”

Sirius scoffed, and defensively asked, “Well I got the girl, didn’t I?”

He said it playfully, but when you looked into his eyes you could see the truth behind them. He was really making sure that this was actually happening. 

You nodded, “Yeah, I guess you did.”

Sirius’ face broke out into a huge smile and he let go of your hand to settle both of his on your hips, pulling you a couple inches closer.

You suddenly thought about everything he said moments ago about how he isn’t usually so nervous around girls. That brought your mind to his reputation with them.

So, you did what he did earlier. You masked a real question with a playful one, “You gonna break my heart, Sirius Black?”

Sirius smirked, tightening his grip on your hips and pulling you even closer to get rid of those last few inches of space between you. He leaned his head in close, and just before his lips met yours, he whispered a response. 

“Doubtful.”

––––––––––

Note: i can’t believe i finally finished this story, i hope you guys liked the ending!

#sirius #Sirius Black #Sirius orion black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black imagine #sirius black imagines #sirius black x reader #sirius black x slytherin #sirius black x slytherin!reader #slytherin!reader #James Potter #james fleamont potter #james potter imagine #james potter imagines #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #James Potter x Lily Evans #jily #Remus Lupin #Remus John Lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin imagines #peter pettigrew #peter pettigrew imagine #regulus #regulus arcturus black #regulus black imagine

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Freddie Mercury lover of life, singer of songs; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

Alright guys this is it, I have for you all THE chapter that everyone’s been dreading for my Rock Angel series. This will be the last chapter where Freddie is alive. So get out the comfort snacks and tissues ready cause this chapter WILL. GET. SAD. I was planning on saving this update for later but after some debate, I’ve decided to just post it up now.

Warnings: Death, loss of loved one/icon, mourning, ANGST. This is a sad chapter yall. 

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_____________________________________________________________

The day after Kelly’s birthday, Jack flew back with the rest of the family and took the kids with him while I stayed behind in England to be with the one person who I needed to be with.  In fact I even stayed at his place along with Terry and Phoebe.

God he—he looked so frail, so fragile, it’s almost unbelievable that this was the very man just 11 years ago who looked so fit and healthy and who just six years prior wowed the world on stage before 1.5 billion people. But I won’t deny that he still has that same Freddie humor, even when he’s—god I can’t even bother to say it.

It was my turn to take the afternoon shift of watching Freddie before his doctor came in.  On the bed with him was Delilah, his faithful cat who hadn’t left his side except when she wanted to be fed or use the litterbox.

I lay there beside Freddie, his faint but raspy breathing was the only thing echoing in the room.  My arms were wrapped around him and I heard him softly whisper to me.

“My angel……is that you?”

“Yes Freddie. I’m right beside you.” I was told by Jim that due to the AIDS virus, his vision sometimes goes out, almost making him blind at times.

“My rock angel……my protegee…….go into my drawers and pull out the—manilla folder.” I stroked his head and got up from the bed and did as he told me.

I went over to his drawer that held his large circular mirror and pulled out the only drawer it had and I soon found the folder he was talking about.  I went back over to his bedside and I told him.

“I got it Freddie.”

“Open it.” He merely told me.  I looked at him slightly confused but I opened it as he kept stroking Delilah’s back and she purred softly.

Inside the folder I found some legal documents inside for copyright approval of some songs.  I pulled the papers out and even though I skimmed most of the legal words and actions there were a few song titles that caught my eye.  They read as followed:

Somebody to love.

Killer Queen

In the lap of the gods (revisited)

Liar

March of the Black Queen

Ogre Battle

“What is this Freddie? I don’t understand.”

“I talked with Miami, and—I told him he could do with whatever he wants with my music, my legacy, my name. I only told him to never make me boring.” We both softly chuckled. “And darling I know that music will always be covered by someone else. And let’s face it rock and roll is slowly dying with the way pop and hip-hop is growing. I don’t want any of those people to touch one of my songs before you. So we talked it over and legalized right there in black and white are the songs of mine that I want you to cover. And release on your next album.”

I was shocked.  These were some of my favorite songs that I’ve told him that I loved hearing live on stage.  And the fact he’s gone so far back and chosen the very early Queen songs for me to cover as my own…….I didn’t have the words to say.

“Freddie I—”

“Please say you’ll do it darling. You’re the only one I trust to make a great cover of a Queen song. Promise me you’ll do it.” He reached out and held his hand out for me.  I placed his hand against my cheek and leaned against it as his thumb gently stroked my cheek.

“I promise Fred. I promise I’ll make you proud.”

“You already have darling.” I tried to hold in a sniffle and keep my tears at bay but Freddie was smart. “Don’t be so tragic darling.” I choked out a laugh and said to him.

“Can’t blame me. You always knew I was an emotional woman.”

“I’ve seen worse dear.” We both had a soft laugh before Freddie started to cough.  Quickly I grabbed his cup of water and held it out but he refused it and continued to close cough as well as tried to breathe normally again. “My sweet rock angel……”

“Yes?”

“Do you—remember the song you sang when we first met you?” I smiled fondly at that memory.

“How could I forget? It’s the song my mum used to sing to me to help me feel better. And now I sing it to my children when they’re unhappy.”

“Will you sing that song for me now? I want to relive that glorious day. The day I heard an angel grace the Earth with her sweet voice. But I want to hear it now that you’ve matured from that little teenage girl you once were.” I smiled and resumed my position once again.

Freddie adjusted himself so that his head rested on my chest right over my heart and I stroked his hair gingerly.

“Just know that this time I don’t have a piano so my voice won’t sound as glamourous.”

“Your voice is glamourous with or without music dear.” He softly exhaled.  I took a deep breath in before exhaling out and I softly began to sing ‘Hallelujah’, the very song that I sung the day I first met Queen.

Freddie remained cuddled close to me as I sang to him and continued to stroke his head as his breathing grew softer and softer till he fell into a deep sleep.

I heard footsteps coming up towards the room and soon standing at the doorway was Mary Austin.

“He just fell asleep.” I told her.

“I can take it from here. You can leave now (Y/n).” she told me in almost an urgent matter.  Almost like she didn’t even want me there anymore.

I looked down at Freddie and gently kissed the top of his head and as Mary and I walked pass each other, I felt this coldness brush up against me and Mary immediately took my spot holding Freddie in her arms.

I walked down the stairs and saw Jim, Terry, Peter, and dad all downstairs together.  Roger must’ve just gotten here and somehow managed to slip pass the paps that were literally camped outside.  He came up to me and the two of us immediately embraced each other.

He rubbed my back as I buried my face into his shoulder finally letting the tears slip.

“I’ll go get everyone some tea. (Y/n) would you like some?” Jim said as he stood up.

“She’ll have her usual and I’ll have a coffee if you don’t mind Jim. Bring it to us out on the back deck.” Dad then guided me towards the backyard and the two of us sat down on the wicker couch and looked out to the back garden.

“He’s not going to last much longer.” I said more as a statement than a question.  I heard dad take a deep exhale and he said grimly.

“Fraid not love.” His hand rubbed my right shoulder gingerly and comfortingly.

“I can’t believe we’re going to lose him. He was always so strong.”

“Is strong. He’s always strong. He’ll never stop being strong lovie.” He told me as he leaned his head against mine.

After a bit of silence and just sitting there, Jim came out with our tea and coffee and we thanked him for the drinks.  I took a sip of my Jasmine tea and that’s when Roger said.

“You know…..my son Rufus saw a picture of you last week and he said ‘nana’.” I smiled softly. “Of course……”

“Roger I know what you’re going to say next but I’ve been meaning to speak my mind about this.” I set my tea down and said as I just stared out into the backyard. “You know that bitch has always hated me. Never once treated me with any respect, nor seen me as anything but a threat to you and her. I’ll be involved with your new son in any way I can but—please for the love of god. Don’t. Mention. Her name. I refuse to have anything to do with her. Even her name is like poison to my tongue. Just like the bitch who raised me after my parents died.”

“Alright. Just—thought I’d break the ice and get your mind off of….well all this. But I respect your decision. Not really the choice of words but…..” I glared at him. “Shutting up now.”

“I don’t even see what you saw in her besides her looks. Dominque at least respected me.” I stood up and walked to the middle of the garden with my teacup in hand.  I took a large gulp of it as he said.

“I—I have no excuse.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean!?” he snapped.

“You love your beautiful women. You always have. I’ve seen it countless times Rog. I’m just thankful none of your exes turned out to be a crazy ex. I can’t even imagine what would happen if I, my family or even your own family got hurt because of a crazy ex.” He remained silent.  I took another sip of my tea. “I don’t want to fight about this anymore. Not with—him listening in on us. He wouldn’t want that. Not now.”

“Agreed. In fact I’m sorry I even brought it up to begin with.”

“As I said before dad. I don’t point the blame on the child. Rufus, he’s a cute kid. Much like his father probably was when he was born. I just have a problem with the mother. But I won’t show the drama before him. And if she has any love and respect for her son, she’ll do the same thing.”

“You know, I’ve never heard you be so honest and blunt like this in a long time.” I felt his hand gently take mine.  I sighed out deeply and solemnly.

“I’ve barely slept the past few days. With Kelly’s party and of course taking care of Freddie. Brother mine won’t return any of my calls, Jack calls to tell me that America is already starting to get the news of Freddie’s ‘rumored AIDS reveal’. And now our family’s starting to hound Jack whether or not the rumors are true. I just……I’m drained dad. Emotionally, physically and mentally, and I don’t know how much more I can take.” My voice began to crack as my walls began to crumble down.

I wanted to cry more tears but they refused to come out. Dad held me in a tight but comforting embrace as he rocked me side to side.

“It’s not easy for me either love. For none of us. You’re not the only one whose feeling drained by all this lovie. Brian, John, Fred’s friends, everyone that knows about this is drained. But the only thing we can do now is—be there for Fred in his last hours. To let him know we love him.”

I sniffled and clung onto his jacket so tightly, my knuckles went white.  But dad held me even tighter and snug as the two of us just stood there embracing each other in the garden.

*Nov. 24th, 1991. Sunday morning*

Three days later.  I remained at Garden Lodge, calling Jack whenever I could telling him how Freddie was getting worse and worse.  I was there when Freddie decided to stop taking the medication he needed to slow down the virus and he just decided to take an oral morphine pill.

I was there when Freddie’s lawyer and him made the official written statement, revealing to the world that Freddie did in fact have AIDS and tested positive for HIV for the past six years.

And I was there when……when he……

I was at the phone trying one last chance to see if I could reach Deacy, just so he could at least say one final goodbye.  I get that he’d rather wish to remember Freddie as he was and not as he is now but—if he doesn’t take the chance to say goodbye to Freddie now, he’ll regret it for the rest of his life.

The phone kept ringing until the operator told me that the line had been disconnected.

“Damnit Deacy.” I muttered softly before hanging up the phone. I then picked up the phone to ring Brian up when I heard Jim’s panicked voice cry out.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N) GET UP HERE NOW!!!” I dropped the phone and as quick as I could, I took the stairs two at a time not even caring that I tripped several times.  I raced towards the bedroom and found Peter and Jim holding Freddie’s limp body.

“(Y/n) quick go get Dr. Atkinson! Hurry!” I nodded and raced back down to see Dr. Atkinson sitting out in the garden reading over some files.

“Dr. Atkinson!” he looked at me and I choked out. “It’s Fred.” He abandoned the paperwork and he and I quickly raced upstairs.

When we got to the room, Peter then began to explain.

“He—he woke up and—he wanted to uhh….go to the toilet. And-and we were lifting him and…..” Dr. Atkinson went up to Freddie’s body and checked his pulse.

He then leaned in close to Freddie’s face.  His eyes were shut and his mouth slightly opened.  He was as still as a painting, a photograph even. Then his doctor said the two most horrifying, and graving words that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

“He’s gone.”

My whole world crashed.  Jim and I immediately embraced each other as we cried.  I could hear Peter sniffling and softly weeping and that’s when Dr. Atkinson adjusted Freddie’s corpse so that he was now lying flat and he covered him up with the bedsheets.

After that……Peter rang Roger up (who was just 300 yards away from arriving at the house) to tell him not to bother coming cause Freddie was gone.  

At 7:01am, Freddie Mercury was pronounced dead.

I was now driving down the road towards a house that needed to know of what happened instead of hearing about it on the news.  When I arrived at the quaint little house, I rushed to the door and knocked on the door as hard as I could.

I didn’t stop knocking till it opened and there stood Veronica.  She looked at my disheveled look and without a word embraced me as I wept into her arms. She brought me inside and sat me down in the living room.

As she put a blanket around me, that’s when I saw Deacy come down the stairs and the minute he saw me, his face went stoic and he froze right there on the spot.

“He’s gone brother mine.”

Deacy’s eyes shifted almost not believing what he had just heard.  He then went back upstairs and Ronnie went to stand up to follow him but I stopped her. Wordlessly I took the blanket off my shoulders and followed Deacy up the stairs.

From the hallway towards their bedroom, I could hear the sniffled and muffled cries of my brother mine.  I peeked in and saw him pacing around before finally collapsing to the floor, his arms clenched tightly against his chest, his face streaming down tears but he bit his lip trying to hold in his screams of grief and agony.

His whimpers sounded like a heartbroken dog that had just lost their parent forever and it broke my heart to see him fall apart like this.

“Aunt (Y/n), what’s going on?” soon enough coming out of their rooms were Robert, Michael, Laura and Joshua.

“Robert, take your brothers and sister downstairs now.” I told Robert urgently.

“What’s wrong with dad is he okay?” asked Joshua.

“I’ll explain everything later kids but now isn’t the time. Just please go downstairs with your mother and don’t come up here unless she says you all can.” Robert being the adult that he was, guided his younger siblings downstairs leaving their father and I alone.

I slowly opened the door up just a little bit more to allow myself in before closing it behind me.  There on the ground Deacy still kept crying and holding his screams in.  I sat down at the door and waited for him to calm down because I knew going to him right away wouldn’t be the best thing.

After what felt like hours, he finally calmed down and he just sat there broken, empty, and dazed.  I slowly crawled towards him and sat down in front of him.

“This is all my fault.” He croaked out.

“There’s—there’s no fault here Deacy. You weren’t the one who gave Fred AIDS. Nor did you know about it for as long as he did.”

“But you were right. I can no longer say my final goodbyes to him. I hide and refused to see him.”

“Because you wished to remember the way he was, instead of the shell that he was starting to become. And I think he knew that deep down. He loved you Deacy, and he always will.” The two of us went silent for awhile before he choked out.

“I can’t believe Freddie’s gone……I feel so alone.” I scooted closer to him and nuzzled myself into his chest and said to him.

“You’re not going to be alone. I promise. I’ll stay here with you and Ronnie if that’s what it takes.”

“Oh (n/n).” I felt his arms wrap around me. “When did you get so maternal?”

“I learned from the four best guys I know. You all have been there for me in my lowest times, now it’s my turn to be there for you three.” I looked up at him, both our eyes gleaming with leftover tears, “You, Bri and Rog…..we’re all gonna get through this. Freddie was important to all of us. We need to be together now more than ever.”

I leaned my forehead against my brother’s.  Our noses gently grazing against one another’s as I nuzzled him like a mother lion would her cub or another pride member.  He soon followed suit and the two of us embraced each other and stayed in each other’s arms.

*Jack’s POV*

I had gotten the call from Roger at around 3 in the morning. At first I thought it was just him wanting to stir up drama or call to see how Kelly and the boys were doing, but when he bluntly told me that Freddie was gone, my whole world fell apart.

For the rest of the morning I couldn’t sleep.  When everyone else in the family woke up I told them everything and we all cried and mourned at the loss of a beautiful and kind-hearted man.

“This—this feels like…….like a bad dream or something.” I said sitting at the kitchen table.  My mom standing over me rubbing my shoulders comfortingly.  She leaned down and hugged me from behind as she said to me comfortingly.

“I know. I know. But you know—at least Freddie is no longer in anymore pain. You know.”

“We know how much he meant to you Jack. He meant a lot to us too.” My dad said.

“There’ll never be another man nor artist like him. Never.” Jensen said as he sipped his morning coffee.

“We’ll all miss him.” Said Jared.  Mom reached over and stroked Jared’s shoulder.  I stood up and snapped out.

“It’s just—it’s not fair! If I had been there! Hell if I met (Y/n) earlier than I did maybe I could’ve…..”

“Jack, Jack sweetie, sweetie honey.” Mom came over to me and embraced me tightly. “There was nothing that you could do. There was nothing that any of us could’ve done.” She separated from me and wiped my tears away.

“I know. It’s……it’s so unfair.” I choked out.  I walked back towards my seat as I continued to choke out. “He was such a beautiful man. So full of love and life. Now he’s gone…….” I felt Gen and Dani rub their hands on either my shoulders or back trying to comfort me.

“Morning everybody!” Kelly’s voice rang out.  We all quickly wiped away our tears and my daughter came up to me and hopped up in my lap.

“Morning baby girl. How’d you sleep?”

“Great. I had a dream that I was playing alongside uncle Freddie on stage. Can I call him and tell him about it?” at her innocent question, the room grew quiet and depressed again.

“Kelly sweetheart I—don’t……” she looked up at me and she knew immediately that something wasn’t right.

“What is it daddy? Why are you so sad?”

“Sweetie this isn’t easy for me to say but umm……a few hours ago your godfather Roger called me. And he told me that—” I trailed off, swallowing my tears and sobs.

“It’s okay kid.” Jensen said to me.  I took a deep breath and finally told her.

“Kelly sweetie, your uncle Freddie died this morning back in London.”

“What?” she snapped.

“It’s just…….the virus he had was getting stronger and stronger and—he lost the fight.”

“No. You’re lying! NO HE’S NOT DEAD!!!” she screamed at me as she quickly ran back up the stairs.  I turned to my mom and dad and they gestured for me to go upstairs and talk to her.

I took the steps two at a time before finally reaching Kelly’s room.  She lay there on her bed, her head buried into her pillows as I heard her cry (which broke my heart immediately).

“Baby girl.”

“Why did uncle Freddie have to die? It’s not fair!” she wept as I stroked her back.

“I know. Death is never fair. But it’s the way of life.”

“I thought mummy was gonna take care of him! Why didn’t she?!”

“Now you listen here Kelly Michelle Kline. Your mother did everything she could to help your uncle. But—there are just somethings that…..cannot be cured. At least not yet. This is something that the world hasn’t seen yet, so we don’t know how to fight against it. But hopefully in the future we can.”

She sat up and sniffled as she wiped her nose with her sleeve. I wrapped my arm around her and said.

“And your uncle Freddie wouldn’t want you to be sad. He wouldn’t want any of us to be sad. Though he is gone, he’ll always be with us in our hearts and our memories.”

“I wish Jackson and Georgie got to know him a little more.”

“Me too sweetie. But we’ll tell them all about him. And how much, even though a short time, how much Fred adored them.”

“Is—is mummy okay?”

“I don’t know. She’s—she’s hurting just like we all are, and most likely what the whole world is feeling right now. Your uncle meant a lot to millions and billions of people worldwide.”

“I’ll miss him.” She stated sadly as she lowered her head.

“Me too sweetheart, me too. Is there—any more questions you have about what’s happened?”

“No. But—can you hold me daddy?”

“Of course love, c’mere.” I held my arm out to her and she crawled into my lap and clung onto me and I embraced her and rocked her softly, doing all that I could to comfort my baby girl.

Soon enough the whole wide world had gotten the news of Freddie’s death and the final confirmation that he had died of AIDS like so many of the gay community and dozens more from either blood transfusions or infected needles from drugs taken in the past.

Reports came in calling Freddie out for his sexual deeds and that this was karma (the bastards).  It was unbelievable that there were people out there tearing at Freddie’s name and saying that him getting AIDS was his fault because of his recklessness and wild antics.

Eventually I got a call from (Y/n) and the two of us talked on the phone for hours on end.  She told me that she’d be staying with Deacy and Ronnie till Freddie’s funeral in three days, and she’s invited all of us to come to the funeral.

So we all packed our bags and in three days the whole Kline family took a nonstop flight to London.  When we arrived the day before the wedding, as we drove on by, there were tributes out on the streets with flowers as far as they eye can see, all for Freddie Mercury.  From people of upper, middle or lower class, celebrities or normal people.

Everyone had paid tribute to the greatest showman the world ever known, and the kindest man some had personally came to know.

Then the day of the funeral arrived.

*Nov. 27th, 1991. My POV*

I pressed down my black dress and adjusted my bracelet that Freddie gifted me for my 20th birthday as well as a moon necklace he bought me in Argentina.  I looked at myself in the mirror before sighing softly.

“Baby.” I saw Jack’s reflection in the mirror. “Louis is here with the car. Shall I get the kids inside?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there in a moment.” I told him.  He nodded and left the master bedroom.  I gripped my necklace in my hand and whispered to the heavens.

“Looks like you’ll finally get to meet my parents after all Fred. I only just wish it was when you died at 102.” I took another deep breath and proceeded down the stairs.

I soon noticed that outside in the backyard was Kelly. She was sitting on the swing set all by herself in her little black dress.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n) I can’t find……how long has she been there?” Jack said.

“Can you tell Louis to wait up for just a few more minutes Jack?”

“Sure babe. I’ll be in the car with the boys if you need me.” He kissed my temple and left me alone to stare out at our daughter.

I walked towards her and I tapped my fingernails to the metal swing stand and she looked up at me and I asked her.

“May I join you?” she nodded and I sat down at the swing beside her.  The two of us gently swaying like the branches on a gentle windy day.  “You practically ran your father ragged little miss.”

“I wanted to be alone.” She said softly.

“I get it. You really miss him don’t you?”

“I know daddy and grandma said that death was a part of life, and that Freddie is with God and Jesus now, but—why couldn’t he stay here with us?”

“Believe me love if I had that kind of power, he’d be standing right here and probably tickling you till you smiled that sunshine smile of yours.” That made her crack a small smile. “But—the type of illness he had, doctors have never seen anything like it before. And a whole lot of people are dying because of it. But hopefully soon, they’ll get enough samples and study it more to the point that we can cure it so that no one dies of AIDS and HIV again.”

She got off the swings and walked a few feet in front of me and she said.

“I really loved uncle Freddie. I was his little nightingale.” I smiled solemnly.

“And I was his Rock Angel.” I looked down at my bracelet and fingered it. “Taught me everything I knew about being a rockstar. Now when he needs me the most I couldn’t even take care of him.” She came up to me and said as she placed her hands on my nylon knees.

“It wasn’t your fault mummy. Like you said there was no medicine to make him feel better. But you were there for him when he needed you.”

“I know sweetie. It……it still hurts though.” I felt her small hand reach up and touch my chin.

“It’s okay to be sad.” I cracked a smile and looked at her. Those were the exact words I told her when they had first arrived and we had our little talk about sharing our feelings about Freddie’s death.

“Now where have I heard that before?” I teased.

“Mummy?”

“Hmm?”

“Is it—okay to cry before we go?” my heart broke as she made the same heartbroken expression I make whenever I’m about to burst into tears.

“Of course baby.” I picked her up and embraced her tightly and the two of us softly cried in each other’s arms.

Kelly and I then got into the car after our emotional release, and at the address where the funeral was taking place, I could already see mourners piling in.  Already I could spot Brian and Anita standing side by side, and I even saw Elton John just starting to come in.

“Thank you Louis.” I thanked him.

“Anytime ma’am. I’ll be right here after the service is over.” I got out of the car with Kelly at my hand.  Jack then came out and took the boys out of their car seats and held onto them.

We walked towards the church and the first person we came up to was Elton.  The moment he saw us, he softly smiled and said.

“The whole Kline family.” I smiled solemnly and greeted Elton with a hug and kiss.

“I just wish it were on happier occasions.” I told him.

“Same here. How are you holding up darling?”

“Numb, empty. But I should be asking you and the guys that. You all have known him longer than I have. Heck I know about your little nicknames for each other. You’ve lost your Melina.”

“Yes, but she wouldn’t want me to be sad. She’s laugh and call me tragic if she caught me bawling like a baby.” We both chuckled softly.

“That sounds like Fred alright.”

“We’ll talk after the service okay?” I nodded and the two of us hugged and kissed each other once again and he nodded to Jack and waved at the kids before entering inside.

We all took our seats in the same row as the Deacon family. Deacy and I sat side by side and soon the church was completely crowded with people.  Then by 10o’clock the funeral began.

The chosen few men came in carrying a light brown casket down the aisle and placed it before all of us.  

Right next to it was a proud picture of Freddie during the Magic tour wearing the proud yellow jacket and looking radiant and strong, and around the picture was a large bouquet of yellow daffodils and lilies.  

His mother, sister, and Mary spoke their eulogies about Freddie’s life and what he meant to them.  After Mary spoke for almost 20 minutes, the pastor stood up and he said into the mic.

“And now, as requested by the deceased party, I would like to invite the Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline to come up and sing her song for the departed.”

Yes.  I had been told by Kash that Freddie had written to her to let me sing for his funeral. I stood up and walked up the steps and stood before the microphone stand.

“I—I had written this song for another reason. But—now it seems it’ll have to be for this occasion. Freddie Mercury—you always said my voice was of the angels, hopefully they’ll hear me and take you up to paradise.”

I took a few deep breaths to stall my tears.  Originally I had this song reserved for Freddie and Jim’s official wedding (and I didn’t care how long I’d have to keep it storage, I was willing to do it) but now it seems it’ll have to be his funeral song. As the piano player began to play the tune, I softly began to sing.

Play video

As I sang the song, memories of first meeting Freddie came flooding back.  All the good times we had together back during my internship, to him teaching me how to get over my stage fright, him helping me become the Rock Angel.

Every little memory I had with Freddie came rushing in as I sang with more passion.

*Me*

Wish I could, I could've said goodbye I would've said what I wanted to Maybe even cried for you If I knew it would be the last time I would've broke my heart in two Tryna save a part of you

Don't wanna feel another touch Don't wanna start another fire Don't wanna know another kiss No other name fallin' off my lips Don't wanna give my heart away To another stranger Or let another day begin Won't even let the sunlight in No, I'll never love again I'll never love again, oh, oh, oh, oh

When we first met I never thought that I would fall I never thought that I'd find myself Lying in your arms, mm, mm And I wanna pretend that it's not true Oh, baby, that you're gone 'Cause my world keeps turnin',

And turnin', and turnin' And I'm not movin' on

Don't wanna feel another touch Don't wanna start another fire Don't wanna know another kiss No other name fallin' off my lips Don't wanna give my heart away To another stranger Or let another day begin Won't even let the sunlight in No, I'll never love

I don't wanna know this feelin' Unless it's you and me I don't wanna waste a moment, ooh And I don't wanna give somebody else

The better part of me I would rather wait for you, ooh

Don't wanna feel another touch Don't wanna start another fire Don't wanna know another kiss Freddie, you’ll stay on our hearts

Don't wanna give my heart away To another stranger Don't let another day begin Won't let the sunlight in Oh, I'll never love again Love again Oh I’ll Never love again

I'll never love

Again

I won't I won't I swear I can't I wish I could but I just won't I'll never love again I'll never love Again Oooo oo oo oo oo Hmmm

By the end of the song, tears glistened in my eyes but none came down my face because I knew he wouldn’t want that.  The whole church applauded and I walked down the steps back to my seat.

As the pastor led a prayer, I felt Jack’s arm wrap around me and he leaned his head against mine while rubbing my arm comfortingly.

A couple hours later, after some more eulogies were spoke from Brian and Roger and other close friends of Freddie, it was time to bury the casket.  The men who brought it in, all came back up and resumed their positions and carried it back out and put it back in the car.

Only the close friends and family were allowed at this point to come to the burial of the casket.  So it included me and Jack (we had his parents take the kids back to their hotel), Roger, Deacy, Brian and Anita, Jim, Mary, Freddie’s family, Elton, David, Peter, and Miami.

We all stood around as the casket was being lowered down into the Earth.  I leaned up against Jack trying to draw in as much strength as I could and soon a couple of men began to bury the casket.

I then knew that it was now real.  Freddie Mercury was officially gone from this earth.  The Lover of life, and Singer of songs was dead.

Nothing would be the same after today.  Lives would be forever changed.  And the world just got a bit more darker without the large sunray that was Freddie Mercury.

#queen #queen x reader #queen imagine #queen band #queen imagines #freddie mercury #freddie mercury x reader #freddie mercury imagine #freddie mercury imagines #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #brian may #brian may x reader #john deacon x reader #john deacon #john deacon imagine #john deacon imagines #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor imagines #brian may imagine #brian may imagines #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody imagines #bohemian rhapsody fanfiction #rip freddie mercury #freddie mercury lover of life #singer of songs #tw:death

[reeesea]

Something Sweet: Part One

~the sweetest drink on the menu~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: just minsung, han jisung/lee minho

warnings: mild language (like barely)

words: 3.5k (2k too many ngl)

summary: Minho is working his usual shift at Seoul's most expensive high end restaurant, when a trio of new-comers arrive and by the end of Minho’s tedious night he’s plus one additional phone number.

a/n: To be honest this is the first thing I’ve ever written and actually posted. SO please accept this minsung one-shot that just came out of wanting more waiter Minho in my life. anyway if you read it and like it let me know, and maybe ill write more of it. In my head it has at least a few more chapters of non-plot where the other boys show up <3

---------------------

It had only been an hour since the dinner rush started and Minho was already counting the minutes until he could collect his tips and go home. Sure, he could think of countless more exhausting jobs compared to being a waiter at Menu 98 (an upscale restaurant in a part of town he most definitely did not live in), but today just hit different. He never had to do much more than just put on his Customer Server Smile ™, not mess up the orders, pour the wine without spilling, and recommend the highest priced appetizer if asked. Pretty simple stuff. Nothing too draining, but still the exhaustion set in, probably due to spending 2 more hours in the dance studio than he should’ve the previous day. 

His feet were paying for those additional long hours trying to perfect choreo by making each minute of his shift more painful than the last. Even so, working at the ever popular restaurant paid for the daily discomfort that Minho may have felt from his blistered feet. The restaurant was a well known hot spot for anyone with enough money to casually spend the equivalent of three of Minho's paychecks on a meal. CEOs and their business partners along with idols and some lesser known celebrities made up most of their usual clientele on a casual Friday night like this one. The customers always came in waves on Friday evenings, parties of usually 4 or more coming in to celebrate some successful business venture that took place during the week. Great for Minho really, because that meant usually more wine, more appetizers, larger meals, and larger checks, which means bigger tips. His bank account really needed these Fridays especially if he was gong to keep saving up to finally pursue his dream. 

A new party of six was just assigned to Minho’s section. Trademarked smile: on, Feet: still aching, Hours until close: at least another three. It looked like tonight it was going to be a long ass night. 

An hour or so passed before Minho was able to get some form of rest from being out on the floor. Minho leaned his body weight against the wall near the back of the dining room, appreciating the brief calm before the night crowd started to roll in. Thoughts of the dance he was trying to choreograph flashed through his head. He hoped that the movements he’d chosen would be able to convey the emotions of the song he had in mind. The thought of asking Hyunjin to watch his performance briefly popped in his head, but before he could consider it further the hostess was calling his name. 

“Minho! There's a new table for you in section three.” Minho moved from his comfortable position against the wall and went through his checklist; Apron? Flattened. Backup pens? Check. Hair gently moved out of his face to perfectly frame it? Check. Lastly, Polite customer service smile? Obviously. 

The three boys at the table were definitely new customers to the restaurant. Minho observed that the three of them appeared to be blissfully unaware of the de facto business casual to fully formal dress code that the other patrons in the restaurant followed. The Trio seemed to sport the street style that you would see in the popular clubs not only a block away. Two of them clothed in almost all black outfits while the third wore a bright pink colored hoodie under his jean jacket. 

“Hyung, I still can’t believe we did it! The crowd was huge, I mean after going on stage I don't even remember anything. I might have blacked out. Holy shit did I actually black out….” Pink hoodie seemed pretty animated about whatever the reason was for their meal out. Maybe a little too animated, as other tables glazed bitterly toward the source of their evening’s disruption.   

Before approaching he considered the possibility that these boys being idols was likely, but Minho still found it odd for multiple reasons. He didn't recognize them at all as idols, which he was usually pretty good at keeping up with, and when idols did casually come in it was more likely to be on a weekday for an early dinner and not a late Friday night after the dinner rush. Nonetheless, with his perfect waiter image on, he walks over to the table never showing his curiosity.

“Good evening gentlemen, My name is Minho, and I’ll be serving you tonight. Is there anything I can get you to drink before your starters?” His script rolled politely off his tongue like it had the whole night. All complete with a slight smile and arms perfectly placed behind him, as carefully and as naturally as a doll whose been posed in the same position for the past six hours.

The wide set, somewhat brooding boy has already decided after glancing at the drink menu, “yeah I'll order a bottle of the house red for the table,” glancing up at Minho from beneath his black cap. Minho swiftly wrote down the order, and moved his glance over to the next boy at the table.

“Hyung, you're the only one of us who chooses to drink wine voluntarily,” Pink hoodie spoke up, seemingly upset about the prospect of drinking bitter fruit water. 

“Jisung, you're just saying that because you can't handle anything that you can actually taste the alcohol in. I'll drink whatever Bin gets,” the handsome curly haired blonde mentions, glancing at the soft hoodied boy next to him with a look that reminds Minho of a disappointed father. Minho actively fights off the smirk that is wanting to form on his lips.

“WHAT that's not true, THAT ONE TIME I drank an entire bottle of-”

“Fine, fine just stop yelling. You’re gonna get us kicked out before we even get to eat” Mr. Black cap glances up at Minho again, but with a more apologetic look. “Add on an order of the fruitiest and sweetest drink you serve still with alcohol in it, for the small squirrel boy.” That last part came with a smirk from the dark haired speaker and a glare from from the ‘squirrel boy’ to his left. 

Minho had trouble keeping the smirk from forming this time. And maybe his perfect image faltered for a second, but he was quick to recover, and confirmed their orders with a straight face and a promise to return with water as he left to give them time to select from the menu. 

---

“Great now our waiter thinks I'm a whiny baby who looks like a squirrel. Wow, thanks Changbin-hyung.” Jisung grumbles and pinches his cheeks that cursed him with the rodent nickname. 

“Good, at least he won’t be fooled into thinking you're anything but the truth” 

“Yah! WHa-”

“Hey settle down you guys, lets try not to get kicked out please. Binnie recommended the food here, and I would very much like to eat it before we are politely asked to leave” 

Jisung grumbles something inaudible at Chan’s request, and Changbin can't help but respond with a smirk at getting to see the younger be told off.

“Also we're supposed to be celebrating selling out our show so lets do that, yeah? First show 3racha single handedly sold out! WE did that!” 

All three of them get proud smiles after that, and the bickering is left forgotten as the three recount the night, even though they had lived it together

“Not gonna lie, I think our Binnie stole the show tonight. You were on fire tonight man.” Chan said proudly, receiving a thankful smile from the younger boy, who had become shy and bashful at the praise.

“Though, Chan-hyung your rap was so charismatic tonight, you almost made that girl in front faint when you winked at her, the whole audience fucking lost it” Jisung had switched from literally yelling to just a whisper shout for emphasis.

“Hahaha, yeah I can't even believe that happened. Man, today’s energy was just different.” The smile on Chan’s face was blinding, as usual. “Hopefully we can get to play even bigger venues soon. I could get used to this...” Chan mused, seemingly already focused on the future plans of 3racha. 

“Yeah, those paydays would be real nice right about now.”

“Bin-hyung, what are you talking about, you’re literally loaded. Plus since you got that producing job, we can actually pay the rent on the apartment you parents let us stay in '' Jisungs pretty thankful for all the support Changbins parents had given them, while the three of them worked toward their collective dream to make and perform music. But he thinks they all can agree that finally being able to use their own money to live instead of just relying on handouts and the kindness of friends or family to help keep them from becoming starved or homeless, is a new kind of satisfying that Jisung hadn’t considered before. Just look at them now, at one of the nicest (and most expensive) restaurants in Seoul, fighting over drinks and having a meal that would hopefully be the first of many celebrations for their groups accomplishments. The trio could all agree that the financial stress has been one of their greatest worries, and that beginning to escape it has been all kinds of relieving. 

Before any of the boys could respond to Jisung’s comment, Minho had returned with three glasses of water, three glasses for wine, and a bottle of wine all balanced perfectly on a tray perched on the palm of his hand. Jisung had to admit it was impressive how he had managed to balance all of the glassware and liquids without losing balance, and while moving with more grace and agility than he would expect from your average waiter. 

Before Jisung had even returned from his thoughts, three glasses of water and the expertly poured wine glasses, all set delicately without a single drop spilled, were identically placed in front of each of them. Graceful may have been an understatement. 

“Have you decided what you would like to have tonight, gentlemen?” Their waiter Minho said, all with a gentle expression on his face. 

No, the answer was no, but before Jisung could respond, Changbin had already ordered the pricey steak to go with his wine. Soon after, Chan ordered the surf and turf dish that had a stupidly complicated name that Jisung couldn’t pronounce. Jisung hadn’t even remembered them even looking at the menu, or maybe it was just him who had yet to even glanced at it. Details. 

“Uhhhhh…” Jisung searched hopelessly over the menu and then at his friends, who stared blankly back at him, then back to the menu again. This was a regular occurrence when the three decided to go out and eat, when they weren’t holding themselves in their apartment for weeks at a time. Still, Jisung always ended up hopelessly unprepared to successfully order without awkward pauses and at least three consecutive strings of ‘hmm’s and ‘uhhh’s. And so,

“Hmmmmm…. I think.. Uhh…. maybe…” nothing was popping out at him, and Jisung was pretty sure at this point that he had forgotten how to read. “Ya know what, surprise me,” he decided this was the best response he could come up with.  

“Surprise you?” Minho looked just as confused as Jisung felt.

“Yeah, is that an option? If not, I'm this close to just closing my eyes and pointing.” He says while dramatically closing his eyes and waving his finger over the menu. Once again Jisung was hopeless.

He hears a soft chuckle and opens his eyes just in time to catch their waiter’s lips curl in a sweet smile that makes his eyes turn into crescents. It lasts barely a second, before his face returns to his neutral customer service expression. But Jisung decides he really likes that smile, and a part of him is sad to see it retreat so soon. 

“Well in that case, I can do the blind pointing for you, but I personally recommend the seasonally prepared local beef served on house baked brioche, that comes with garlic and parsley potato wedges. Does that sound alright?” Jisung felt he had said it faster and with more details just to confuse him. 

Jisung stares at him blankly in response, and he's pretty sure four whole seconds pass in silence before the Pretty Waiter ™ follows up, an ever so slight smirk on his lips, “it's pretty much a really good local burger with homemade fries, I think it would be something you would enjoy.” 

Jisung grins at that, “Oh! Yeah that does sound good...Thank you! I will have that.” For some reason he really likes the idea that their waiter chose something off the menu that was specially meant for him. Not that he wouldn't like all the nicer and fancier dishes they serve here with small plates with dry ice fog, but a part of him was more content in getting a dinner that didn't require him to question whether or not something on his plate was even edible. And the happy curiosity definitely had nothing to do with the way their waiter’s eyes sparkled when he talked or the barely-there smirk that Jisung just caught sight of. 

“Alright then, I’ll put in these orders. Oh! And then I'll be right back with your speciality fruit drink,” He says that last part with a slightly more upbeat tone, resulting in another smirk to appear on Changbin’s face and a groan from a slightly embarrassed Jisung.

---

Minho surprised himself. 

On any given day of work at Menu 98, he deathly avoids having to do anything more than the regular polite small talk. But for some reason, tonight he couldn’t stop himself from playing along with the antics of the cute boy at his table. The three boys were entertaining, and maybe he could blame the exhaustion and the numb pain in his heels, but the comical distraction was welcomed by Minho. He didn't even realize just how much he had been looking for a distraction from the long shift until it was staring right at him with big shiny eyes and a cute round face. Minho hurried back to enter in their orders, including his suggestion for the squirrel looking boy.

Minho wasn’t going to deny that the flustered boy at the table was cute, he was pretty aware how attractive all three the boys were when he took their orders. He had thought they were idols originally, so in Minho’s mind it made sense. Still, the waiter still felt something about the three was too unique to be categorized as just idols or trainees. As much as it may have piqued his curiosity though, Minho still got paid for his service not for his interests in customers, so he brushed it off almost as soon as it appeared. 

The rest of the evening, Minho tended to all four of his assigned tables with his usual perfect server act and minimal small talk. When it came to the three somewhat boisterous customers in the corner table, Minho may or may not have allowed himself to subtly laugh at their arguments and antics. The dynamic of the three boys was slowly becoming the highlight of his late night shift. Each of their personalities greatly contrasted and amplified the other, making way for animated and comical exchanges and arguments between them. 

When Minho had returned with a Strawberry daiquiri for the boy in pink, a chorus of giggles could be heard from the other two boys, while the other happily accepted the drink in substitute for the untouched glass of wine in front of him. Upon drinking it, the cute boy's eyes somehow widened further and shined more than Minho thought was possible. He flashed his heart-shaped smile as he thanked Minho for the drink. 

Minho nodded in return, and internally decided that Heart-shaped smiles were his new favorite. 

---

Jisung had been hyper since the show, and the energy was now focused on a new mission to see the pretty smile of their waiter again. Granted, he didn't have to try that much harder to gain the attention of the pretty waiter, being the loud and excitable person naturally he was. Every small grin that Jisung was able to pull out from under the other boy’s infuriatingly polite facade, was a major win in his book. 

Chan, Changbin, and Jisung celebrated further by enjoying the food, which was all phenomenal, and discussing their next gig the coming week. The best way to celebrate one performance is to look towards the next, or someother random bullshit Changbin had said after a couple more glasses of wine.

Overall the night was a celebration of all of the dedication and hours they had put into their music, as well as their grind to perform and grow a somewhat sizable following. They were all high on the potential of finally getting to realize their dreams and reach their goals as a group, something none of them actually thought they would get to do together. The overwhelming happiness of the night easily made it one of Jisung's new favorite memories. 

As the boys were finishing off their third--or forth--drink (Jisung definitely had another one of the strawberry drinks Minho had brought him), after dinner and figuring out their checks, Jisung felt a surge of boldness. Mostly due to having a few drinks in his system, and the slight infatuation he had with the pretty waiter's smile, Jisung decided ‘whats the worst thing that could happen? Rejection? lmao’ and wrote down his name and number on his receipt in hopes that Minho would actually read it, or maybe even contact him. Maybe. 

It was a shot in the dark, but Jisung had been feeling a little high on life, and felt like he couldn’t leave without at least shooting his shot. Jisung and the other members of 3racha got up to leave, and Jisung searched out the waiter. He  wasn’t able to see him in the mostly empty dining room now, but a hopeful part of him felt that he would see him again, leaving the restaurant with his arms around his members already bickering about who would get to shower first after their long night. 

“I'm just saying, Chan-hyung I know for a fact that you’re not even going to make it to the front door before passing out, so I call dibs. And Jisung, I’m older than you so I get veto power over your rights and decisions as your hyung.” 

Jisung was about to grumble in response but something about how Changbin’s smile was so carefree left him feeling like he deserved this victory. Changbin was definitely a little tipsy, but seeing his hyung so happy after such a rough week made Jisung glad to do anything to keep that smile there.

“Fine, fine hyung but you have to help me carry Chan-hyung up stairs when he inevitable falls asleep on me in the cab” 

“I don't know what youre talking about,” Chan replies, already yawning, while climbing into the cab.

---

Minho was picking up the receipts from his tables when one of them caught his eye.

Hey, I’m Han Jisung ^~^ (the cute one in the pink hoodie!)

Thanks for your suggestions, best waiter ever!!!

I think your smile is beautiful, Maybe I’ll get to see it again sometime?

555-XXX-XXXX

Minho couldn't help but smile to himself. He’d been hit on occasionally by customers and has been given countless numbers, which usually don't make it much farther than the trash, but something about the innocence of the note and cuteness of the boy made him actually consider keeping it.

He scoffed to himself after a second of considering it. As cute as the boy was, and as sweet as the note was, Minho didn’t have time or energy to have another added person in his life. No matter romantically or platonically, new relationships were on his ‘things to stay away from if you ever wanna make it into the dance academy’ list. He already barely ever saw his roommates, and if they weren't all in the same dance troupe, they probably wouldn't talk much. All of their time was spent working and practicing, and he and his roommates only had enough energy and free time to spend a meal or two together on the weekends. There just wasn’t any more time for anything extra, no matter how nice the idea may sound. 

He was about to give the little message the same treatment as the others as he cleaned up for the night, but a part of him couldn't bring himself to throw it away, and discreetly pocketed it instead out of instinct. Out of sight and out of mind as far as Minho was concerned.

-----

thank you if you read this far <3

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

#stray kids #skz #minsung #stray kids fic #skz fic #han jisung #lee minho #lee know #I love my sons #gods menu #restaurant au