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onceuponastory · 1 year

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something sweet - bucky barnes x reader. chapter one: new beginnings

Plot: Bucky meets his new neighbour Y/N, who has just moved to New York after inheriting her aunt’s coffee shop. He offers to help out whenever he can, but both are apprehensive about getting closer to one another, especially because of their pasts. Yet, as always, life has other plans. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (soon) Warnings: Mentions of death, implied previous abusive/toxic relationship, reader doubting herself and mentions of Bucky’s past as The Winter Soldier and how he wasn’t in control. I also wanted to mention that in this, reader has a good relationship with her parents and family, since I know it can be a tough subject for some. As always if I miss any triggers, let me know. Notes: This is a series I’ve had planned for the longest time, and I’m so excited to finally be writing it. I hope you all love it as much as I do. This is not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own. Divider made by @staticscreenwriting / @astartothemoon

Heading up the stairs to his apartment, Bucky hums a little tune to himself. He isn’t expecting much from today, just another laid back day. Honestly, he still isn’t used to having these kinds of days, ones where he’s in control of himself and what he does, and he can choose to just do nothing. In all honesty, Bucky thinks he’ll never be used to that. Or at least, not any time soon.

However, when he rounds the corner, Bucky sees a sight he wasn’t expecting at the end of the hallway - a woman lifting box after box, and taking them into an apartment. His previous neighbour moved out a few weeks ago so she could move in with her boyfriend, meaning this must be his new neighbour. As the woman continues to move everything into her apartment, Bucky watches her, smiling a little. She seems nice, and he’d be lying if he said if he didn’t find her pretty cute.

And he’s staring at her like a weirdo without even offering her his help. Way to be a hero, Bucky.

“Hey, do you need some help lifting those?” He offers. The woman looks up. When she makes eye contact with Bucky, she smiles.

“Uh no, actually. I should be okay. Thanks though.” She holds out a hand, which Bucky shakes. “My name’s Y/N. I just moved here.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Bucky. I’m one of your new neighbours. Sure you don’t need any help?” She shakes her head again.

“No, honestly I’m okay.” Her words are a little quicker and sharper than Bucky expected, and when Y/N realises, she sighs. “God, sorry. That didn’t come out right.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. You were just trying to help. Sorry Bucky.” Even though he still doesn’t think she has to apologise, Bucky accepts her apology. “It’s just these last two, anyway.”

“Well, okay. If you need any help, I’m just at the end of the hall in number 212.” He gestures down the hall, and she nods. And with that, Bucky turns and goes back to his apartment. Y/N watches him go. As soon as he’s out of sight, she groans, massaging her temples.

“Fuck. Why did I do that?!” she hisses. “Way to mess it up with your cute neighbour before you even know him, Y/N.” Sighing Y/N glances back down the hallway, right at Bucky’s door. He seems really sweet, but the last thing she wants is to get too close to someone and end up getting hurt or hurting them. Especially after her most recent heartbreak. With another sigh, Y/N grabs the last of her boxes and opens the door to her apartment.

The next time the new neighbours see each other is a few days later, when Bucky is just back from the supermarket, laden down with various bags of food. When he reaches his floor, he glances down the hallway and sees Y/N balancing various books in her arms, her keys dangling from her mouth. Suddenly, a book slips out of her grasp, thudding against the floor. “Shit.” She hisses. Before she can even bend down to pick it up, Bucky has all but abandoned his bags and is rushing over to help her.

“Let me get that.” He says, picking up the book. He takes a quick glance at the cover: “How to Run a Business for Dummies.”

“Thanks.” Y/N murmurs.

“And I guess you need help to get inside, too?” Bucky chuckles.

“Is it that obvious?” Bucky gently takes the keys from her mouth and opens her door, holding it open for her. Y/N dumps her enormous stack of books on her counter, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thanks for that, Bucky. Can I, um… get you some tea, coffee or anything?” She offers. Bucky takes a moment to think it over. Sure, he’d like to get to know his new neighbour better, but he hasn’t really been close to anyone since being pardoned.

Of course, there’s the other Avengers, but other than Steve and Sam, they’re more his colleagues than anything else. Since returning to his normal life… or whatever ‘normal’ is for him now, Bucky hasn’t done the little things like this, like having a cup of tea with a friend, or having a discussion about non-Avengers stuff. Despite his overextended life, Bucky is woefully inexperienced at this sort of thing.

But then, he looks over at Y/N, and her slightly nervous smile, obviously wondering if it’s really that bad to just have some tea with her. And in order to get out there and make amends, to be seen as something other than the Winter Soldier… Bucky knows that he has to take the first step. And tea with his new neighbour sounds like the perfect start to that.

“Yeah, I’d love some, thanks.” He takes a seat at her kitchen counter, watching as Y/N roots through her cupboards to find some mugs.

“Sorry, I haven’t fully settled in yet, so a few things are still strewn around.” She chuckles. Bucky looks around her apartment. Pictures of Y/N with her family and friends cover her walls, the sight making Bucky smile. Y/N is clearly surrounded by love. Although, it does also cause a pang in his heart. Sometimes, he wishes his family were still around, and that he had more of a connection to his past. And especially because he knows that because of him, a lot of people won’t have family moments like this, birthdays and Christmases spent together, full of love and laughter. Even though he knows that it wasn’t his fault, Bucky still feels horrendously guilty about what he’s done. Hopefully, one day he’ll be able to forgive himself… even though he doubts it. “You alright?” Y/N asks, passing a mug over to him and snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” He lies. Y/N can tell there’s something more to it, but she decides not to ask. After all, she and Bucky barely know one another. She can’t just expect him to dump everything on her at once. As they drink their tea, Bucky glances over at the big stack of books on the counter. They’re all business related, causing him to raise a brow. “That’s some… light reading material.” He jokes.

“Well, I’m going to be taking some business night classes, so figured I’d get started early.”

“Is this all your reading material?” Bucky’s eyes widen. “It looks like you brought home half of the library.”

“No… I just like being prepared, I guess.” She shrugs, knowing Bucky probably thinks she’s a nerd. To her surprise, though, he nods.

“Well, good for you. So, are you planning to open a business, or is this just a hobby?” Bucky regrets his question as soon as it leaves his lips. “Who the fuck studies business as a hobby? Idiot.”

Thankfully, if Y/N thinks his question is stupid, she doesn’t mention it. “Well, yeah, sort of. My aunt used to run a coffee shop nearby, and when I was a kid, I used to help out whenever I could. I loved it, and my aunt used to say I was a natural.” She points to a picture on the wall, one presumably of her and her aunt. They’re baking together, with big smiles on their faces and flour dusting their palms. “I loved that place and wanted to help out as much as I could. I probably spent every weekend there.”

As she reminisces on the memory, Y/N smiles, one of those huge smiles that almost overtakes your face and is as bright as sunshine. And the sight makes Bucky smile too, a smile wider than he’s used to. But then she sighs, and her face falls. “As I got older, I was focused on other things, and didn’t help out as much as I used to. My aunt died a few months ago, and well… it turns out she left the coffee shop to me in her will. I still bake, but I don’t know the first thing about actually running a business, so at first I considered just letting someone else take it over. But when I thought about it and remembered how much I loved helping my aunt, I realised how much I love that place, and my aunt too much to let it fall into someone else’s hands, so here I am.” She explains, gesturing to her stack of books.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Bucky tells her, and she nods, wiping at her eyes a little. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ll be great, and I’m sure it’ll be easier than you think.”

“Do you know anything about running a business?”

“...No.” He admits, his cheeks flushing slightly pink. Technically, he knows someone who does, but maybe bringing someone as intense as Tony Stark over will stress her out even more. “But, I’m here to help if you need me… I don’t know what I could help with, but the offer’s there.” Y/N giggles then, a happy burst of laughter. And once again, Bucky finds himself smiling.

“Well, thank you Bucky. Maybe when I’m up and running, you can be my first customer?”

“I’d like that, thanks.” He holds up his mug, clinking it with hers. “To new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings.” Although, neither could possibly know just how apprehensive the other is about letting them get too close, mainly because of their pasts. Or that they even feel the same way as they do. Especially how, deep down, they’d love to be closer to each other.

Thankfully for them both, after that day both Y/N and Bucky are pretty busy, Y/N with her new classes and Bucky with Avengers stuff. Yet, they still say hi to one another when they pass each other in the hallway, or have a quick discussion about how things are going in their life before one of them has to dash off. And for the next few weeks, that’s how things go, until….

One night, one when Bucky is glad to be inside because the rain is pouring and the wind is howling, he receives a call. One with Y/N’s name flashing up on the caller ID. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Look, I’m really sorry to do this….” She trails off, and Bucky raises a brow. “But are you busy? My night classes ran longer than expected, so I got out late and now none of the buses are running.” In an instant, Bucky is up and putting his jacket on.

“Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“You sure? Look Bucky, I don’t want you coming out in this storm if you don’t have to, I can just call a taxi if any are going.” She insists. “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Y/N.” He stresses. “It’s no trouble at all. And I am not leaving you stranded on a night like this. Now text me your location and I’ll come get you.” After a few more insistences that she’s fine and will just try to find a taxi, and some more from Bucky telling her to just wait on him, Y/N does as he asks, and Bucky is soon in his car and on his way.

Y/N stands inside her college, watching as the rain pours. Absent-mindedly, she fiddles with her fingers. She still feels terrible for calling Bucky out from the warmth of his apartment to come get her on a night like this. Although, she is glad she’s not out there, walking home or waiting on a taxi that’s never going to come. Despite how apprehensive she is about getting closer to her new neighbour, she and Bucky do get on really well, and she’s glad to have him there to help her if she needs it. Besides, it’s only a relationship that she doesn’t want right now. Surely just being friends with Bucky wouldn’t be so bad?

Although she can’t ignore how much her heart sinks at the thought of not getting too close to Bucky. Yet, she does what she’s done ever since she left her hometown to move here… bury her feelings so nobody else gets ruined by her fucked up life. Bucky pulls up outside then, waving at her through the window. And despite how much he wants to help…hiding her feelings from everyone includes Bucky. With a sigh, Y/N goes outside to meet him.

It’s not an ideal coping mechanism, but it’s what she has to do.

“Thanks.” She gasps, wiping the rain off her face as she gets in and quickly shuts the door. “I owe you one.”

“Y/N, you don’t owe me anything. I mean, we live in the same building. And like I said, I’m not leaving a pretty girl like you stranded.” She swears her heart almost stops at his words. That definitely wasn’t what she expected him to say. Although, she won’t lie that his words make her cheeks heat up a little. After all, who wouldn’t after being called pretty by someone as good looking as Bucky?

Meanwhile, Bucky’s heart pounds, and his mind feels like it’s going a million miles a minute. “Why the fuck did I say that? Way to ruin things with her before it even started, Bucky. And it’s not like I can apologise either, because then she’ll think I’m apologising for calling her cute, which is not what I want to do.” He turns his head, watching as Y/N looks out of the window. He sighs. Hopefully he hasn’t completely ruined things. Even though they only met a few weeks ago, Y/N is a sweet woman, and he’d like to remain friends with her if possible.

They sit in silence for a while after that, both unsure of what to say after something like that. “It’s awful out there.” Y/N states, finally breaking the silence, much to Bucky’s relief.

“I know. Luckily I didn’t bring my motorbike, huh?” Y/N turns to him then, wide eyed.

“You have a motorbike?” She gasps, and he nods.

“Yup. This is safer, though. And better when the weather is like this.” They nod, chuckling slightly. As Bucky comes to a stop at a pair of traffic lights, Y/N pipes up again.

“Hey, my aunt’s coffee shop is down that street.” She points out. “Well, I guess my coffee shop, now. Do you want to see it? If all else fails, at least you know where to find me.”

He does, he really does. Obviously, this means a lot to Y/N, and the fact she’s including him in this, such a huge and key moment of her life, makes his stomach flutter and his heart soar. It makes him feel like a human again, and finally appreciated, especially after spending so long as a super serum powered assassin. Y/N has no idea how much this means to him. And so, Bucky grins.

“I’d love to.”

“I haven’t fully decided what I’m gonna do with it yet. I mean, obviously it could do with a lick of paint and some new furniture.” Y/N explains, walking around and pointing out little bits she can see that need changed. As she does, Bucky takes a look around. The coffee shop is small, yet he can tell that it oozes warmth and a welcoming atmosphere. Bucky can easily see the space full to the brim with paying customers, just like Y/N deserves. “Ugh, there’s so much work to do.” She groans, holding her head in her hands. “I just hope it goes well, and that I’m actually cut out for this.” Despite how much her family and friends reassured her, she still can’t get rid of the one doubting voice in her head. The one that drowns everyone else out, and the one she doesn’t want to ever think about again… but just can’t seem to get rid of.

“Of course you are!” Bucky reassures her. “You’re going to be incredible.”

“I don’t know, Bucky. You really think so?” She asks, and he nods.

“I know so. And besides, I’ll help out as much as I can. Like I said, I’m right at the end of the hall if you need me.” Y/N manages a small smile at that. Even though she might not fully believe his words yet, she’s still glad she met Bucky and at least has someone like him there to help when her family and loved ones are so many miles away.

“Thanks Bucky.”

Some time later, Y/N has said goodnight to Bucky (after thanking him another few times), and is back in her apartment. As she dumps her things in her bedroom and starts to get ready for bed, she bumps into another of her cardboard boxes, spilling some of its contents out. “Ugh.” She huffs, bending down to pick them up. However, right away, she sees something she wishes she hadn’t. A picture of her with her ex, arm and arm and laughing at a family party. As she glances down at the picture, remembering that day, Y/N’s stomach twists, and she has to suppress a shudder.

In all honesty, she has no idea how that picture ended up in the box of things to bring. Maybe she just shoved it in without much thought. Because that part of her life is definitely not something she wants to remember. Opening the frame, Y/N grabs the picture, ripping it straight down the middle. Once the picture is fully destroyed, she throws it into the bin. “Asshole.”

NOTE: I’m not going to have a separate taglist for this story because whenever I’ve tried to make one in the past, it never seems to tag people. So please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn on notifications so you don’t miss any of the chapters!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #marvel oneshot #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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kirawaswrong · 1 year

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ocean wave blues come

summary: Things at work have been hectic, but you and Chuuya can find solace even in the smallest moments.

pairing: chuuya nakahara x gn! reader

genre: fluff, comfort

word count: 1.4k (A shorty, but a goody!)

warnings: Language, slightly suggestive at one point

note: Hello! Thank you so much for your support on my other fics. This is just a little sweet idea that kind of came out of nowhere and I had to get out. Also maybe next I’ll write a proper smut fic. Hope you enjoy!

Working for the Port Mafia had its perks. There was notoriety, the pay was good, and everyone in Yokohama knew not to fuck with you. The job also had its downsides. Every day, the violence you faced would be enough to make most grown men cower in fear. Your safety was never guaranteed. It was hard to get close to coworkers, as they may not live to see another day. But as hard as those conditions were to endure, they became part of the job.

The past few weeks had been particularly tough. Many goods were being traded at once. The exasperating ADA kept interloping on mafia turf. And, within the organization, traitors had to be dealt with on a daily basis.

While you and your peers were being run ragged, you could only imagine the stress Chuuya was under.

Chuuya Nakahara was an executive of the Port Mafia. He had to a short fuse, could come off as abrasive, and was a threat to any enemies that crossed his path. And he was also your boyfriend.

He’d been your trainer, which was why you were so good at hand-to-hand combat. The two of you became close and began dating shortly after training ended.

It was important for both of you to separate your work and romantic relationships. Chuuya was still your superior, and you gained no special treatment from dating him. Though you were friendly during working hours, you showed no displays of affection. Per your mutual request, Mori seldom sent you on missions together.

This made the last few weeks hell for your relationship.

At the end of a long workday, Chuuya would often give you a ride back to his place. He’d open up an expensive bottle of red wine and pour two glasses. You’d overlook the city in his penthouse and talk about your day. Bitching about work and how stupid some people were often help you both feel better. If that didn’t work, taking things to the bedroom often did. His heavy-lidded blue eyes peeked from between your thighs. He did unspeakable things to you with his fingers and his tongue. It was hard to remember your worries when he scrambled your mind.

Those nights were nonexistent now. You rarely got off of work at the same time. When you did, you were both so exhausted that you went to your own homes and passed out.

On a busy Wednesday morning before work, Chuuya texted you. He invited you to have lunch in his office. This was something you’d never done before.

Part of what made the chaotic weeks so difficult was that you saw Chuuya at work all the time. He headed a meeting at least once a week. You’d walk by him in the halls, going in separate directions. Sometimes, he was the one who ordered you to go on missions. Getting to see him as a coworker and not as your partner somehow made it worse.

The proposition of lunch meant at least 30 minutes of uninterrupted time together. It felt like a life raft entering the vast sea when you’d been treading water for days.

As you limped back from dealing with a vendor who tried to refuse to pay up, you noticed Chuuya’s office was empty. A weapons trade was falling through and he had to go deal with it in person. Work had once again snatched the life raft away. Before you had time to be too upset, you were off on another mission.

At long last, the day was over. The moon hung low in the dark sky. Hardly anyone remained at the base. You knew you should consider yourself lucky, as others would be working until day broke once more. The thought of showering and crashing into your bed was heavenly. As you collected your things, a light at the end of the hall kept your attention. Chuuya’s office.

You had been under a lot of pressure, but you wondered how much more Chuuya must be under. Were the past few weeks even that difficult for him? He’d been at the job much longer than you. His strength and perseverance were admirable, but how did he do it?

Before you could stop yourself, you were knocking on the oak of his office door.

“Yeah?” he called out.

For a millisecond, you regretted it. Not out of fear, of course. The days of finding Chuuya intimidating were far behind you. You worried that bothering him may have been the last thing that he needed. What if he wanted to be alone?

With all this in mind, still you peeked inside.

His office was tidy as usual. An original piece of artwork hung on the wall. His coat and hat hung on a rack by the door. The maroon pillows sat just so on the velvet settee. The anomaly was the mahogany desk, which hid beneath stacks of paper and manila envelopes. Chuuya slouched over the mess, pen in hand. He looked up after receiving no verbal response. The edge in his eyes disappeared and a crooked grin replaced his scowl.

“Hey,” he said. “Come on in.”

Entering his office, shutting the door behind you. Dark circles underlined his eyes, but the brightness in them warmed your heart.

You leaned against the wall. “Long day?”

“That’s one way to put it,” he sighed. “Heading home?”

“I was about to. When are you off?”

He glanced at the chaos that was his desk. “At least two more hours.”

“Damn,” you said. “That sucks.”

He chuckled at your bluntness. “All in a day’s work.”

You tried to chuckle along with him.

“Listen,” he said, “I’m sorry I missed lunch.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine. Did the trade go through?”

“As well as it could,” he said. “What’d you end up eating?”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “A burger and fries from downtown.”

“Again?”

“Yes, again!” You laughed. “It’s tasty, okay?”

“Wouldn’t kill you to eat a vegetable every now and then, you know?”

“Chuuya,” you trailed off with a playful eye roll.

“You’re the one that complains about how junk food makes you tired,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah. Guess I won’t tell you I had a milkshake too then.”

He made a show of shaking his head at your unhealthy eating habits before checking his watch. “Getting pretty late. Need me to walk you to your car?”

You looked at this man, with his rust-colored hair. The man most of Yokohama knew to fear. The man who cared so much for you, in his curmudgeonly way. Though neither of you said the words “I love you” often, they showed in every action you took toward each other.

“Actually,” you said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Shrugging off your coat, you put your bag on his couch to emphasize your point.

“Babe,” he said in a soft tone of voice only you had the privilege to hear, “We can’t do anything. I gotta get this shit done.”

You gave a wave of your hand. “I know.”

His eyes trailed you as you retrieved a book from your bag. You took one of the chairs from the front of his desk and placed it next to him. After sitting down, you guested to the stapled sheets in front of him.

“Please, continue.”

“I won’t be good company,” he protested.

“I’m okay with that,” you said.

He leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “You’re really gonna sit there for two hours?”

You sighed. “Yeah. I don’t give a shit what you’re doing. As long as I can just be here with you. But, if you want me to leave, I will.”

He blinked, mentally going over what you said. Then the grin reappeared. “Nah, I don’t want you to leave. Sit there and stare all you want.”

You snorted and lifted your book. “I’ll stick to reading, but thank you.”

Chuuya resumed his work, focusing hard on the papers before him. His eyes followed the inky words before he signed the dotted lines with a flourish.

A few moments into reading your book, warmth and calluses encased your hand. Glancing over, you saw his eyes still raked over the papers. Without missing a beat, he raised the top of your hand to his lips. The tender kiss he pressed to it was the only affection he’d ever given you at work.

“I’ve missed you, you know,” he murmured, eyes still on the sheaths of paper.

You squeezed his hand. “Missed you too.”

He nodded and gave a slight smirk. He lowered your entwined hands to the desk and continued working.

An hour later, you drifted off to sleep. When Chuuya finally finished his work, he drove you home.

#chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs fluff #bsd fluff #bsd fic #bsd x reader #chuuya #bsd #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #mine #bungou stray dogs

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foxilayde · 2 years

Text

Half of You (Chapter 3) [Santiago Garcia x fem!Reader]

CH. 1 CH. 2

Summary: What's a romcom without a little tragic backstory, huh? Tragic backstory and muffins.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Mentions of death, mourning, talk of pregnancy.

A/N: I want to thank you guys so much for all the lovely comments and tags on the previous chapters of this story, it means the world to me 💚 This is going to be kind of a slow burn, mmmkay? I want Vin and Santi to simmer good and long before we add the spice because we want that payoff to be delicious. Enjoy!

You don’t knock when entering Santiago’s home anymore, not in the mornings, at least. You know you’d never catch him in a compromising position in his kitchen or living room, especially not at 9am. He is military clockwork. The ISS could set its time to Santiago’s morning routine. He’s up at 6 every day for a weighted vest run. Sometimes, when you’re up at that hour and just laying in bed, you see him jog past your window at 6:04 and always back at his front porch again by 7:00.

For the past two years, with almost no exceptions, you’ve been getting up every morning, making some kind of breakfast, and bringing it over at 9, or around nine. You’re not as punctual as Santi and sometimes the muffins or breakfast bars or whatever you make aren’t ready on the dot like his routine, but he never complains.

It wasn’t really like you were doing this for Santi, this was a structure for you. This routine of taking care of someone, being expected at someone’s home at a certain time to feed them. Not that Santi needed to be fed, the man could subsist on protein powder and supplements if needed. It was the promise you made to him….

How worried he’d been for you in the early weeks following Jay's death. When he wouldn’t see the lights of your home turn on all evening despite knowing you were inside. How he’d knock and sometimes you couldn’t find it within yourself to even tell him to go away; instead silently crying into the pillow that your head couldn’t leave.

Santi had been at a loss. He was grieving too and could only turn his pain into work. Toughing out the emotions through tasks.

It had been an odd morning about two weeks after the funeral that you saw a pair of legs sticking out from under Jay’s car in the front driveway. You were so pissed that someone was fucking with Jay’s things that you went outside for the first time in over a week, in your pajamas (a pair of Jay’s sweats and one of his giant cotton t-shirts) no shoes, and kicked the intruder in the thigh, hard enough to hurt your own toes.

“Get the fuck away from that car! I’m calling the cops!” You screamed, not caring that Mrs. Rosenthall was walking her little dog across the street, slowing her pace to watch the domestic scene play out.

“Fuck!” The hidden man shouted grabbing his thigh and in the process of reacting to the leg kick, he audibly hit his head on the underside of the car, giving another prolonged “Fuuuck.” Before scrambling out from under Jay’s vintage Mustang.

“Santi? What—What are you doing?” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for him to get to his knees, wiping off the oil from his hands onto what are clearly work pants.

“I’m changing the oil and then, if you’d be so kind as to not club me in the head with a wrench, I was going to replace the spark plugs.”

“Replace the spark plugs?”

“Yes. After the oil. Jesus, you kick like a horse.” He groans, rubbing his definitely bruised thigh over his dark blue pants.

“Sorry.” You mutter, meaning it but not really projecting culpability. How were you supposed to know it was him? Santi dives back under the car and you gasp affronted. “You can’t have his car you know. Just because he’s— you can’t, it’s not yours.” You sound like a child, unable to even express basic sentiments and the ones that you can express are stubborn and selfish. It’s the way you’ve come used to talking in the past few weeks.

Santi makes a frustrated sound under the vehicle and you don’t know if it’s because of your words, or if its a particularly stubborn nut he’s prying.

He emerges from under the car again after a few silent moments of you shifting your weight from foot to foot. Santi brings out a pan of dirty oil with him and wipes his brow with the back of his dirty forearm.

“I’m not angling for the car, Vin. It’s not my style. The fucking color alone, dios. But if you just let these things sit here, unused and unserviced, they have a tendency rot, ok?”

The metaphor feels like a personal attack, an attack on your inability to honor Jay’s memory by letting his car go to shit, an attack on your own inability to take care of yourself down to the routine maintenance of tooth brushing.

The tears come again and you let them fall pathetically. “Jesus, will I ever stop crying? I didn’t know this many tears could exist in a person.” You laugh in woe at the hard understanding on Santiago’s face.

Santiago brings you into his arms. He holds you and lets you ugly cry into the dirty fabric of his shirt. The oil and armorall smell reminds you of Jay and all his Saturday mornings spent under that fucking car.

Jay would come in after an hour or two, depending on what needed to be done, or how distracted he’d get on the maintenance if Santiago showed up to help. Tack on an extra hour if they decided it needed a ‘test drive’.

You always had breakfast waiting for him when Jay came in; oily and sweaty. Sometimes he’d come in and grab you from behind with dirty hands to which you’d shriek and demand that he needed to take a shower before he ate. You regret that now. You miss his big strong arms and you you’d give anything for the stains of his embrace. So you shift tighter into Santiago’s hug.

“I’m filthy.” He says apologetically. Probably realizing you’re in One of Jay’s nicer cotton shirts, definitely not something he’d wear to work on the ‘Stang, and he doesn’t want to ruin it.

“I don’t care.” You insist through tears, clutching his torso like a port in a storm. Santiago rubs your back, up and down like soothing an infant. You even hiccup like one.

“Do you wan’t to come in for breakfast?” You sniff. “Please.”

“You don’t need to make me breakfast, Vin. You should probably rest.”

“No. No, I don’t need to sleep. Please?”

Santiago hesitates. You can feel his head turn to look at the car.

“Spark plugs first, then I’ll go home to shower, then I’ll come back for breakfast. You need me to bring anything?”

“You don’t need to shower.” God, it comes out so starved. Your emotional regulation has gone to absolute shit and you realize for the first time that the feeling that has been eating you up is a little thing called loneliness.

“Vin, it’s okay, I’ll come back.” He pats your back and you pull out of the hug, wiping your tears and snot on the back of your forearm, looking down at your barefeet on the gravel.

“Eggs.” You nearly whisper.

“Eggs?”

“Eggs. Bring eggs. I don’t think ours are— mine are any good.”

Santiago showered and came back with eggs and you made food in your kitchen for the first time in weeks, fresh food, a meal that wasn’t a condolence casserole.

It lifted your sprits up so much that you begged Santiago to come over the next morning and then it quietly evolved to you bringing the baked goods over to his house. The responsibility did so much to haul you out of bed on days that threatened to swallow you into the folds of your comforter, on days where all you’d want to do was watch the day grow bright and fall dim without performing a solitary meaningful action.

Two years had passed. There were hardly any mornings nowadays where you felt the pull to sink into sleep and waste the day in unconsciousness. You were excited to get up every morning to see your friend. And on days when he would be gone due to the nature of his work, you’d braved up and made other friends in the neighborhood, bringing them freshly baked scones or a pitaya bowl if it it was too hot to bake. Just something. A reason to get up, to greet someone.

Santi’s home is immaculate, like always. He’s the type of single man who takes pride in a cleanly appearance, wether that’s a learned behavior from the military or if he’s always been tidy from childhood, you don’t know. The granite countertops are spotless and he’s perched at the barstool with the morning paper. His hair is still slightly damp from his morning shower and he scowls over the sports page, shaking his head at some news or other from the top fold.

“I hope you like crasins… and walnuts.”

“Jesus, Vin!” Santi startles from his stool and tosses the paper down.

“That’d be a no on the crasins then?” You laugh and ruffle the back of his curls as he settles back down into his seat. You grab a couple plates and napkins, setting a crasin muffin down on each one before pouring yourself a cup of coffee from the pot into your designated yellow mug (a trinket Santiago had made at a Color Me Mine double date from 3 or so years ago).

“You ever think about knocking when you come over?” He takes a bite from the muffin and hums pleased.

“Knocking? I’m hurt. So all that mi casa su casa talk was just for show, Garcia?”

Santi closes his eyes and slaps the counter. “Mmmm, this.” He points at the muffin and gives you a thumbs up.

“You like it more than the cinnamon rasin bread from yesterday?”

He wipes his mouth off on a napkin and gulps from his coffee mug. “That was good too.”

You take a bite of your own muffin and hum in agreement. “Oh yeah, that shit’s delicious. Adding this one to the roster for sure.”

“Uh, roster, don’t remind me.”

“Why?” You gesture to the paper “was there a tragic drafting in the world of fantasy football? Should I fly the flag at half mast?”

“Pretty dismal. Do you want to hear about it?”

“I mean, you can tell me anything, Santiago, but I’m not going to understand a word you’re saying.”

“Uh huh, I figured. I’ll spare you the tragic details and sum it up with ‘I think I’m going to lose a big chunk of change to the boys this week’ but, hey, at least I’ve got these muffins.”

“You can’t have them all, I was going to bring the rest over to Mrs. Rosenthal.”

Santi makes a quiet noise of indignation and pulls the plate of muffins closer to himself.

“Not to Gertie! You know her little fur ball was barking till past midnight? Right outside my window. Again. She doesn’t deserve muffins.” There’s a twinkle of teasing in his eyes and you sigh and relent, squeezing between your fingers the bit of tum that sits above his belt.

“You’re starting to turn into a muffin. I spoil you too much.”

With a full mouth, Santi shoves the plate back in your direction and frictions his fingers clean of crumbs.

“Take em!” He shouts dramatically with a mouth full of muffin, pushing his stool back and taking his plate to the sink to wash it by hand.

“I like the tum by the way, it’s very becoming… and the dad bod is fitting, you know, considering…”

You trail off and Santi turns around wide eyed, drying his hands on a dark grey tea towel. “Do you mean…?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know, not yet, not for a couple weeks… I mean I could be right now, and I— I wouldn’t know.” You’re beaming, eyes alight with excitement. “I’m nervous!” You clap your hands quietly together. “That’s why I made so many muffins this morning, I’m just ugh, bouncing with the anticipation— HEY what are you doing with my coffee, Garcia?!” Santi dumps your full cup of coffee down the sink and starts on hand washing your yellow mug. The barstool scrapes as you get up to retrieve your mug from his soapy hands.

“You can’t be having caffeine! It’s bad for the baby!” His upper arms are strong as he blocks you from getting your hands on the mug with his back turned to you.

“Bad for the baby? How do you know that?” Santi dries your mug with a clean towel and sets it by the electric tea kettle, flipping the blue switch on. When he abandons the mug to grab some tea from the cupboard, you snatch it and hide it behind your back, making your way sneakily over to the coffee pot as he rummages for something on the shelf.

“I’ve been reading up about it.”

“Reading up about it?” You’re not really listening to him, simply parroting his words as you quietly pour yourself a new cup of delicious dark roast coffee.

“Aha! Got it!” He holds up a box of celestial seasonings tea, eyes getting wide as he sees you taking a sip from the piping hot mug.

“Vin!” He cocks his head and holds out a hand, and the way his eyes narrow on yours, glinting with resoluteness makes you sigh with defeat and hand him the steaming hot mug.

He rinses it out once again without complaint and you examine the box of “ugh, herbal tea?”

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ of the word. There’s no arguing with Santi.

“I might not even be pregnant, you know.” But the proffered information is pointless. You know what he’s about to say before he even says it.

“Yeah, but you might be.” It’s exactly what you knew he was going to say.

“I never read anything like that.” But it’s a lie. You have read things like that, but of all the things? Coffee? How are you supposed to live without coffee?

“Well maybe you should read harder. I have a book you can borrow.”

“You have a book?”

“I’m not done with it yet, I’ll let you read it when I’ve finished.” Santi pours the boiling water over the teabag and you almost cry when he places the mug into your hands. In a last ditch effort to get your way, you pout your lips out and fix him with a defeated stare.

“After all the muffins I’ve made for you. Now this.”

“Nuh uh, Vin. Just try it.” He ruffles your hair in a very ‘you’ move and chuckles when you stomp your foot in a petulant show.

You sit back at the stool and blow on your tea before taking an exploratory sip. It’s not bad, but you scrunch your face in disgust anyway.

Santi shakes his head at you and takes a big gulp of his own coffee. “Mmmm, that arabica roast. Delicious.”

“You shit.” You mutter taking another gulp from the chickory tea. It’s really not too bad. You’ll have to take a picture of the box so you can get some more from the store later.

“I don’t mind playing the villain, as long as our baby won’t have a third arm from the bio hazard levels of caffeine you consume on a daily basis.”

Our baby. Our baby. Our baby. Your eyes go wide and Santiago backtracks. “I didn’t mean ‘our’ baby like that, I meant your baby… of course.”

A few beats of silence fall between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, I shouln’t—“

“I’ve been meaning to—“

You both speak at the same time and laugh awkwardly. Santiago gestures to you gently. “Please, go ahead.”

“I… I was just… well you signed all the papers Renatta gave you, and I’m sure that you, being Mr. ‘I’ve been doing my own research’, you read the whole release contract?”

“I did.”

“So… how involved did you… how involved are you intending to be with the baby?” The baby. Neutral. Not “my”, not “our”, “the”. Safe.

Santi scratches his smooth jaw and licks his lips deliberately.

“I guess I’ll be.. I wan’t to be…”

Your heart stops for a second with the intensity of his pause, your head swims and flicks through future images at a thousand miles a minute. Santiago holding a little baby’s hands as it takes its first wobbly steps, shushing a wailing baby to sleep in a nursery that doesn’t exist, singing lullabies, scrunching his nose at a dirty diaper, hiking trips with a toddler on his shoulders, tee ball practice. You shake your head to clear the whole little lifetime that unfolds rapidly in fantasy form.

“I want to be as involved as you let me.” His eyes meet yours then. And you nod unthinking at the brilliant umber depths. “If you want me to be their uncle, their neighbor, their… whatever. I’m,” he takes in a breath that fills his whole chest, “I’m okay to be whatever you need me to be.”

“Okay.”

“Well how involved do you want me to be?”

“I don’t know.”

“At all?”

“No.” Your voice sounds small and all of a sudden you feel like you’re being interrogated.

“Haven’t thought about it one bit?” He presses.

“No.” But the no feels like a lie. Because of course you’ve thought about it. You’re thinking about it right now, seated next to him in his immaculate kitchen.

“That tracks.” He scoffs and goes back to his paper, flicking the pages open with agitation.

“Hey!” You push his fist down and hold his clenching fingers lightly with your own. His face looks hurt. “I don’t really know right now. It’s— this is all new to me, Santiago.”

Santi nods in understanding but still looks as though there’s something on the tip of his tongue that he’s trying to reign in. “I’m sorry Vin. You…” he unclenches his fist and takes your fingers into his warm palm, holding them with reassurance. You stare down at your joined hands, unable to meet his understanding eyes. You don’t deserve how kind and patient he is with you. How giving he’s always been with you. His nature makes you feel fucking guilty at times. “You take all the time you need, Vin. I’m not going anywhere.”

“No?”

“No. I live right next door.”

You smile at him. “Thanks, Santi.”

He lets go of your hand and pats it. “Plus the real estate market is a nightmare right now,” he takes another sip of his coffee which sloshes slightly when you shove his shoulder. “I’d be insane to sell in this economy.”

“You shit!”

Santi smiles and goes back to his paper with a smile and genuine interest.

“What are your plans for today, officer.”

Santi scratches his eyebrow, “I need to hit up Home Depot to get some fresh wire for the weed whacker. How about you?’

“Oh my god, thats perfect!”

“Glad you think so, seeing as how I’ll be treating your lawn too.”

“Are you taking your truck?”

“Uhhh, yeah?”

“Becasuse… if you could, if you’d be so kind…”

Santi rolls his eyes, “What do you need?”

“There’s this little outdoor plant shelf from their weekly ad that I want to get. Plus this osmosis water filtration thingy, but what I really need your truck for is the plant shelf.” You temple your fingers at your lips in hopefulness.

“Thought you said it was ‘little’?”

“Uhhh…. Comparatively.”

“Compared to what?”

“Compared to my car.”

“Vin…”

“And I know what you’re thinking. You think that I’m going to force you to build the plant shelf for me.”

“Bingo.”

“But its pretty simple, I think I can do it myself!”

“Uh huh.”

“I will need to borrow your zzzz zzzzzz gun, though.”

“My what??”

“Don’t play dumb. Your bzzzz bzzzz gun! The think that can drill stuff?”

“My drill, you mean?”

“Yeah. Probably.”

Santi scrunches up his face and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“And the osmosis filter?”

“What about it?”

“Is it an internal or external component?”

“Uhhh? Elaborate?”

“Is the system under the sink or to the side of the sink?”

“Oh! Under.”

Santi blinks at you. “And where will the filtered water come out of?”

“A little spigot with a lever on the side of the main faucet.”

“You know you’ll need a drill for that one too? Plus you’ll need to shut off the water main? I…. Vin, did you know this?”

“No… but I did taste the reverse osmosis water and Renatta’s the other day and ugghhh I need it! She said it wasn’t hard to install.”

“Really? Did she install it herself?”

“No. She hired someone.”

“You’re insane.”

“I can figure it out, Santi! I don’t need your help! I just need your truck to fit the planter desk thingy.”

“Fine.”

You clap your hands and Santi sighs, grabbing his keys and sunglasses. You push past him out the door with the plate of remaining muffins

“I just gotta drop these off at Gertie’s and grab my purse, I’ll meet you at your truck!”

“Careful!” Santiago barks at you as you jump over the low hedge toward Mrs.Rosenthal’s house. You nearly stumble and spill the plate of muffins on her driveway. You turn to see Santiago standing on his porch with his sunglasses on his head, both hands on his hips and shaking his head at you with a slight smile. He really would make a great dad.

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

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@miraclesabound : @reallystressedhoneybee : @blackberries45 : @plz-and-spank-you : @bit-dodgy-innit : @rnlaing : @stevenngrant : @sharin4readers : @hebelongstothestars : @stardustbells : @alwritey-aphrodite : @libraryreservations : @eroticandawkward : @tripleheartx : @johnny-simpfinger : @fangirlfreakingout : @jake-g-lockley : @lunawants : @andromeda-dear : @writefightandflightclub : @oscarsbabe : @marshmallow--3 : @luminescentlily : @laters-gators : @astroboots : @clementineremembers : @lovely-cryptid : @nerdygirl0414

#Santiago Garcia x Reader #Santiago Garcia x You #Oscar Isaac #fanfic

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goddess-in-heaven-and-hell · 10 months

Text

The Best is yet to Come (ER) - Gwynriel One-Shot

The (long) story of how Azriel manages to deal with the mating bond snapping for him.

word count: 9.6k

warnings: swearing, mention of trauma/depression, ANGST with some fluff in between

“After we infiltrated the main house, Cat in the kitchen, myself as a worker in the stables, we managed to identify three main passageways used between the servants. The first one is accessed through a hidden door in the library,…”

Azriel fought hard battles with himself. The first against the urge to close his eyes, the second for his mind to remain somewhat focused. He had read that particular passage of the report about three times, still not remembering what was actually important. Both of his hands ran through his tousled locks in an attempt to wake himself up, to push his concentration just a little more.

But it was a battle he was destined to lose.

He knew he had been running himself ragged these past days, weeks even. But what was his health and sanity compared to the well-being of a whole court, of his family? Feyre and Rhys needed this information as quickly as possible in order to make some tough decisions – decisions that impacted the safety of everyone he loved. His heart squeezed together painfully, the thought of Gwyn or Cassian or Nesta hurt haunting him like a ghost, and forcing his attention back to the paper sprawled in front of him.

It was a testament to his slow mind that he only noticed Gwyn standing in front of him when she reached out her hand to grab his.

“Hey Azzy”, her voice was so soft it barely disrupted the previous quiet of the library. “May I help you with some of your work?”

Azriel’s bloodshot eyes found her in a heartbeat, taking in her nightgown, bare feet, and the little smile she gave him. Then his attention fixed on the dark circles under her eyes, contrasting harshly against her pale face. He hadn’t noticed her own exhaustion before now. What kind of a shit partner that made him, he didn’t even want to acknowledge. His brain simply added it to the never-ending list of things he was shit at.

His girl needed sleep, not to sort through reports with him until the morning. “No, thank you. Just go back to sleep, love.” He squeezed her hand with his, trying to convey to her that he was truly okay. Even though he had trouble recalling the last time he was.

Gwyn’s brows furrowed, her arms crossing in front of her body. Azriel sensed her resistance, and with it the draining argument they were going to have over this. Thankfully, his remaining non-fried brain cells were quick to counter.

“Actually, I’m going to head in with you. This can wait until tomorrow.”, he made a show of dismissing the papers into the drawer of his heavy desk, and stood to wrap Gwyn up in his arm. She just looked mildly surprised, swallowing down whatever comment she was about to make and wordlessly inched closer to him.

The couple made their way through the House of Wind, finding their shared bedroom even in the absolute darkness of the hallway. Azriel kissed Gwyn to sleep, gently caressing her sides and arms until her breathing evened out, and his Shadows reported that she was indeed completely asleep.

Centuries of stealth training came to aid as he pushed himself off the bed again, leaving his priestess to hopefully get a few hours of rest, while he dragged himself back to his desk.

He felt like shit. Not just in a physical sense, but also for the white lie he fed Gwyn. He knew she was concerned, and it flattered him, really. But she didn’t understand that he had to do this. He had to give their cause his all. Rhys trusted him with one of the most important areas of running a court, and he refused to disappoint him. Well, disappoint him more than he already did in the past.

So he slumped back into his seat, wings now resting on the cold floor beneath him, and pulled out the paper once more. If Gwyn woke up in the night to find him missing, he’d have to deal with that. If she slept through the night, he could claim he’s only been at work for a minute. That thought settled him enough to resume his work, even though his stomach turned to lead.

Gwyn POV

The summer solstice celebration was everything she imagined and more.

The back garden of the High Lord’s and Lady’s house was nearly drowned in flowers of all kinds of colors, little fae lights illuminating the crowds and the food as the sun began to set on the longest day of the year. But the delicious fruit and pastries, the vibrant coloring and exhilarating music were nothing compared to the expression on the guest’s faces. Gwyn couldn’t get enough of their happiness, joy and relaxation lighting up even the grumpiest. Her own smile grew another fraction as she spotted Nesta and Cassian in the crowd, dancing and giving each other flirty winks.

She raised her glass in their direction, then drank to their health and safety.

A year ago, she would have been content with the quiet ritual the priestesses performed in the library to thank the Mother for another brilliant year. Now, she stood in the middle of a crowd, laughing and chatting and drinking with her friends – her family. She had come so far, growing into her own skin. And tonight was the night she wanted to take another step in reclaiming her body and mind.

The butterflies in her belly fluttered at the sheer thought, her gaze immediately seeking out her very own broody bat. The fluttering stopped abruptly when she finally spotted him.

He was standing in the corner of the party, underneath the shade of the apple tree. Even though night had only begun to fall these past minutes, his presence was already shielded in complete darkness. All guests made a wide detour around him, like he exuded some kind of poison and your happiness would completely wipe out if you stood in his proximity. His features were the only ones not lifted into a smile or a laugh.

Gwyn debated long and hard about whether to approach him now, even though the sight of him made her heart break. Usually, it led to either an argument, or him shutting off even more. And that was the last thing she could use now, hoping the two of them would end the night tangled in the sheets together. So she swallowed her worry, her need to be with her mate when he was being hard on himself, and resumed her walk around the garden. She trusted he would approach her when he was ready, so she waited.

Maybe it would be different if Azriel actually knew they were mates. It was a secret Gwyn kept for two years now, and with good reason. If he’d react cold and hurtful when she simply wanted him to open up to her, then she didn’t want to imagine the fight that insured when she revealed that particular connection to him. Azriel and mating bonds had a past that went deep, and any mention of it, Gwyn knew, would open it up into a bleeding wound.

So, she danced and chatted some more, the colors of the sky changing from their pure indigo to comforting black dotted with stars. Azriel still didn’t make a move towards her, so she decided to take action herself.

Just as she was about to take the first step in his direction, she noticed the female.

She was gorgeous, all long legs and shiny blond hair. And currently flashing her white teeth at her mate in a seductive smile. To his credit, he only looked mildly annoyed as her hand actually reached for his arm. And Gwyn waited, waited, waited for him to excuse himself. Or point in her direction in show of their relationship. Or to do something that was different than just standing there, letting it all happen as if he wasn’t even in his body.

Gwyn approached them, sliding her hand in his when she reached his side.

The laugh coming out of the female’s mouth died there, and she shot Gwyn a look that made her feel like a cockroach. Small, stupid, about to be stepped on. “Excuse me, we were just having a private conversation.” Her honeyed voice was laced with condescension.

Gwyn looked at Azriel and squeezed his hand simultaneously, trying to get him to wake up out of this stupor he seemed to be in. And it worked.

The Shadowsinger turned his head into the direction of the female, eyes raking over her as if he saw her for the first time. “I think what you meant to say was that you tried to come on to me. Consider the attempt failed.”

If Gwyn weren’t a bit riled up herself, she’d have flinched at his tone. The female had just tried to shoot her shot, and he spoke to her like he would to his enemies. Maybe it was the dull influence of the bond, him reacting like that.

The beautiful female paled slightly, fighting to keep the flirty smirk on her face. “But you’re not with anyone else. I waited to approach you the whole night. And when no one claimed you…”

Azriel shut her up by lifting his hand, his face unyielding and cold – so cold, Gwyn couldn’t take her eyes off him, mouth agape. His Shadows swirled around his shoulders, some lashing out towards the female. This was so different to the polite male she knew, someone who would have turned down flirts with a small but firm comment before walking away from the situation. This felt wrong.

“If I wanted company, I would have sought someone out. My girlfriend, for example.”, Azriel continued, finally acknowledging Gwyn. But at this moment, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be on his radar.

The blonde took a step back, raising her hands in front of her body as if to calm down a rabid animal. And to be fair, Azriel had that aura surrounding him. Like any wrong movement would make him explode.

“Apologies then, mylord. Lady.”, she quickly nodded to Gwyn and practically fled the scene. Undoubtedly glad she dodged a bullet.

Azriel let out a long-suffering sign. “Sorry you had to witness that.”

Gwyn just raised her eyebrows in return. “Well, it didn’t look like you were doing something about the situation yourself.” The Shadowsinger just nodded in agreement, squeezing her hand again before untangling it from his.

“Did you have to be so ruthless?”, Gwyn couldn’t help but ask. There might have been nothing inherently wrong with the words he used, but the way he spoke them still sent a shiver down her spine. And not a good one.

Azriel shot her an incredulous look, snorting. “Do you mean to tell me I should have encouraged her flirting?”

“No, of course not. And you know I didn’t mean it like that either.”, Gwyn fumbled for words, careful not to spook him by asking too deep questions, “There was just no need to look at her like you’d drag her to the dungeon.”

Now she was the center of his attention. Not in the way she usually was. His features still as hard and unyielding as marble, he fixed his stare on her. “There was. I know women like her. She’d have continued all night long if I wouldn’t have done that. I thought you’d be glad for it.”

Gwyn shook her head in defeat. “Of course I’m glad you turned her down. Just-“

How was she supposed to tell him that his little show there spooked her a little? Not for her own life and safety, never. But for the direction his mental health is headed to. He had always been closed off, a workaholic to a fault, and so damn hard on himself. However, he never let it show to outsiders, let them be the punching bag he directed his rage to.

Azriel’s gaze hardened, the look turning shrewd and calculating. “Are you having a problem with this, because you didn’t want her to know I had a girlfriend? That you are associated with me?”

The only thing keeping Gwyn from shaking some sense into her mate was the fact that she didn’t want to make a scene.

“Azriel.”, both of her hands cradled his face, her voice a desperate whisper, “I love being with you. I want everyone in the whole of Prythian knowing I belong to you, as you belong to me.”

His face softened a fraction at her words, but she could sense he didn’t completely believe them. His mind was an impenetrable wall, and each day it seemed to get bigger. Gwyn feared the day she wouldn’t be able to climb that wall anymore, loosing her mate behind a border of self-hate and aggression.

“I even-“, she lowered her voice once more, aware of the still crowded back garden they were in, “I even wanted to, you know, be a little more brave tonight than I usually am. So that I can be with you completely. I want to give you every single piece of myself, as broken and weak as it might be.”

Azriel’s stare finally crumbled, revealing the softened, loving face she usually saw. “There is no part of you that is broken, or weak. You are the strongest person I know. At least mentally – physically, you’re getting there.” The slight smile he granted her reawaked the butterflies in her stomach. There he was, her mate. “And I feel honored that you want to spend the night with me. That you keep choosing me, even though I have no idea why.”

Gwyn flushed a little, flashing him a flirty smile. “Well, I like the way you brood, it’s quite attractive. And the way you have communication issues, that’s what a girl looks for in a relationship.”

Azriel snorted, offering her his arm to lead them to towards the house. “I like that you’re able to decapitate someone with one swing of a sword, or probably even your hands if you wanted to. It’s a useful skill to have in a boyfriend.”

Gwyn reached up on her tiptoes to plant a little kiss on his cheek. “Oh, and the wingspan is helping your case a lot, too.”

Azriel’s head fell back as he released a groan. “Gwyneth!”

Said Gwyneth just giggled to herself, utterly happy to have him back. To be able to tease him without repercussions.

“I can’t take you anywhere, defiant female.”, he mumbled, grinning to himself.

Gwyn hopped on the lowest stair leading up to the terrace of the house, Azriel remaining on the grass. “Says the male who stands in the corner at every party, making guests nearly trip over their own feet because you looked at them with you scary, scary expression.”

Azriel’s arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her flush against him. With their height difference cancelled out, their noses were nearly touching. Gwyn melted in his embrace, flinging her own arms around his shoulders.

“That scary, scary look of mine is keeping this court running, thank you very much.”, he said, but the priestess just rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Shadowsinger.”

He chuckled, every single shadow that before haunted his eyes vanishing, “Well, you were never one to be frightened by it, were you?”

“No, it didn’t impress me much.”, she answered cheekily. The truth was that she only ever saw a hero in him, and that opinion solidified after they got closer.

Azriel kissed her slowly, deeply. Probably just to wipe that insufferable expression off her face, but Gwyn took the opportunity nonetheless. She answered the movement of his lips with her own, letting him in to taste the strawberries and wine she had. The Shadowsinger had this special talent that made all your sorrows go away with just one brush of his soft mouth. Gwyn reveled in it, soaking up all the love he handed her. She’d gotten too little of it these past weeks.

When they parted, Azriel looked at her pensively. “I think you were never frightened because you are one of the few people who actually see me. Not just the spymaster, or the warrior, or-“, he stopped, eyes casting their gaze downwards, “the other occupations I usually hold. You saw me as a friend first. You deemed me worthy of being your friend, even though you already had an impressive collection of them.”

Gwyn smirked. Nesta and Emerie, even Cassian, were a force to behold. In addition to a couple of other priestesses she befriended through their training.

“And then”, Azriel continued, “you deemed me worthy enough to be your boyfriend. Which was the most shocking thing of them all. Thank you for loving me.”

Gwyn’s heart nearly burst at the seams. Words were difficult for Azriel, and the fact that he gave her so many now, even though something was clearly off with him, made her feel giddy and warm inside. She heard the bond between them sing, so loud and clear in her head she wondered why Azriel didn’t yet perceive its call.

“You are my partner.”, she said, her melodic voice laced with gentleness, “My equal. Of course I love you.”

Another kiss to his warm lips and the bond began to thrum to the beat of her heart. Louder and louder, with every second passing, with ever taste of his lips. For a moment, everything was perfect.

Then Azriel stopped moving against her, withdrawing from her mouth and body so abruptly it left her cold.

When she opened her eyes in question, he was already staring at her. And she knew by that look on his face, that he had realized.

“You are-“, he started, his voice hoarse. When she reached out her hand to him, he took another step back. He might as well have stepped on her heart, for it felt like her world was falling apart. She had expected resistance from him, she had to remind herself. She expected a little panic.

What she didn’t expect was his Shadows tightening around him, engulfing him in a storm of black. And then, he was gone.

And if that wasn’t answer enough for Gwyn, then the absolute silence that greeted her from the other side of the bond made his opinion crystal clear.

Two days. Two days and not a whisper from Azriel.

Not in the townhouse, the House of Wind, or even Hewn City. Gwyn’s nerves were so frail she was certain to fall apart any second. In each and every shadow, she looked for him. With every sight of Illyrian wings, her heart squeezed together painfully. And the fact that he completely ignored his training duties made her worry to no end. Because his was loyal to a fault, not only to his High Lord, but also to the group of females that needed his instruction.

The bond yielded nothing. Now finally acknowledged from both sides, Gwyn felt its presence in her heart, a thread pulled taunt. Waiting for a decision. It made her want to weep, that instead of celebrating right now, she had to wonder if her other half was okay, or if he currently tried to find a way of ridding himself of her.

Another dinner passed, Nesta and Cassian equally worried after they found Gwyn at the party and she confided in them. Another night she spent alone in their room, her bedsheets smelling like cedar and Azriel. She crumbled that night, crying into his pillow, reaching for him with all her might and desperation. But he didn’t answer.

In the morning, as Gwyn tried to eat breakfast, she finally felt something. An awareness settled over her, and she knew he was about to land on the balcony a few seconds before he touched down. She rose from the chair, eyes transfixed on him, but froze midway.

Azriel strode through the door, taking a seat opposite Gwyn. She was always able to read him. Now, his face might as well have been a painting – unmoving and infuriatingly neutral.

She sank back down in her seat, untrusting of her legs.

“You knew.”, was the first thing he said. His tone so flat, no emotion, no slither of care conveyed with it.

Gwyn nodded. She couldn’t speak from the ball of cotton in her throat.

Azriel leaned back. “Interesting. So here I was, desperate for a bond – which, might I add, you very well knew – and you decided to keep me in the dark.”

A flicker of hurt flashed in his eyes, then it was gone. “Why?”

“Well”, Gwyn tried to order her thoughts, well aware of the importance of what she was about to say, “I knew before we fell in love. I didn’t want you to want me just because the Mother deemed us fit to be together. I wanted you to love me for me, not for a bond or what it promised. For a time, I didn’t know I could even be intimate with someone. It scared me.”

Azriel just continued to stare. And a second later, Gwyn wished he would have stayed so indifferent.

The Shadowsinger leaped from his chair, sending it flying back and breaking with the impact. His Shadows expanded along his wings, flaring with anger. And his face – Gods.

“You kept this a secret because it scared you? Because you thought if I loved you before the bond snapped, it would ensure we lived happily ever after?”, he exploded. Gwyn flinched at his voice and words, completely overwhelmed with the situation.

He let out a taunting laugh. “That’s why you said all those touching things to me. Because you thought we are well matched, since you had an unfair advantage going into this relationship. Well, let me tell you, Gwyn.”, Azriel leaned forward over the table, a position clearly meant to intimidate her. He never ever intentionally did that. “We are not. The past made it clear that you can’t handle me, and you never will.”

His last words yanked her back into her body, and she stood as well, straightening up to her full and impressive height. “You will not tell me what I can and can’t handle, Azriel. And if the past made something clear, it is that I’m willing to work for this relationship. For you, for me. Because I love you.”

Azriel snorted, a cruel smile twisting his lips until he became so utterly unattractive to her it was shocking. “You only think you love me. If you hadn’t known about the bond, you’d have cowered in a corner with everyone else. You trusted I wouldn’t hurt my mate, bond acknowledged or not.”

Gwyn had wanted nothing more than hearing him say it, addressing her with the word mate. But the way he spat it at her – she nearly vomited all over the floor.

“Even now, you haven’t seen all sides of me. Only the ones I wanted you to see. You thought you could be with the male I present to the world. But what will happen to brave little Gwynnie if I take her to Hewn City?”, he started walking now, rounding the corner of the table. “Will you still love me when you see me cutting off limbs, when I flay my suspect’s flesh, when they piss themselves at the sight of me? And when you realize I like it?”

Gwyn was sure her heart had stopped beating in her chest. Yet, she stood her ground when the Shadowsinger came to a stop before her, caressing her cheek with mocking gentleness. “Will you love me then? Maybe you could if you thought they deserved it. But what of our relationship?”

He leaned forward, brushing his mouth against her ear. Gwyn never wanted to recoil from him until that moment. “What happens when you learn how I like to fuck? And how you’ll never be able to satisfy that side of me?”

A tear started rolling now.

So, this was him. This was the demon people were afraid of. Gwyn began to understand.

“How could you?”, she whispered, never breaking eye contact. She’d not give him that satisfaction, not now. Throwing the fact that he tortured people in her face was one thing, taking the most vulnerable part of her and stomping on it with his feet was another.

“How could I what?”, his voice remained hard, “Remind you of what I am? Burst your little bubble? Better now than later, Gwyn.”

He stepped away, making way for the balcony again. Gwyn didn’t think about stopping him. If she were honest, she wanted him gone.

“Who the hell decided we’re evenly matched?”, he ground out, his words addressed to the Gods and the nail to her coffin. As he took to the skies once more, she wished she could carve out her heart, or what remained of it, just to stop feeling.

After she cried, slept, cried some more, talked to Nesta and Emerie, and unleashed herself in training, she felt better. Not good, but better.

Gwyn never thought he’d have the ability to hurt her so badly. As someone who was always attuned to her needs, always had his hand ready to help her, always was so gentle with her, she thought he’d have stopped as soon as he saw the tears rolling. But he hadn’t stopped, and that told Gwyn that there was something fundamentally wrong with her mate. So wrong, that he was only half to blame for the spiteful words he threw at her.

The urge to hurt him in return transformed into the urge to see him safely cradled in her arms.

But the silence from him and the bond continued after that breakfast. Gwyn didn’t know where he slept, if he was working, if he sought the company of other females in his rage. She had reached out to Rhysand at some point, at least confirming that he was alive and showed up to the town house for short periods. Only to give and receive updates, nothing more. And no, he hadn’t spoken to Elain, was the other information the High Lord offered her.

She felt close to being single again, if it weren’t for the hole that took up space inside her chest.

Gwyn managed to push through, not slacking in her work or in training. It was the only thing anchoring her to the real world by this point. One morning after two hours of rigorous sword fighting, Cassian took her aside. He was careful to let all the other priestess clear the training ring, Nesta and Emerie included.

“Are you sleeping, Gwyn? Eating?”, he asked without much preamble. His caring eyes ran up and down her body, trying to assess her health.

To be completely honest, Gwyn hadn’t done either of those things the past days. Because eating and sleeping left too much room for thoughts. And currently, her thoughts were enough to make her want to curl up into a ball and never leave the library again.

“I haven’t gotten around to it.”, she answered truthfully, too tired to make up lies and pretenses.

Cassian only nodded, a flash of anger clouding his face. Not at her, she realized, but at her mate.

“Then I regret to inform you that you are banned from training for the foreseeable future. At least until you can handle a sword with a clear head.”

Gwyn let out a sign. She had expected that much, especially after she nearly swung at Emerie this morning, too slow to realize her friend had moved position.

“I understand.”

With one blissful distraction gone, she feared the next day. Feared the poison her mind will be trying to feed her.

“If I knew where he went, I’d tell you in a heartbeat. I hope you know that, Gwyn.”, Cassian signed, looking up to the sky as if it would summon the Shadowsinger out of thin air. “Maybe we should tell Rhys to just bind him to the house the next time he sets foot into it.”

“No. I don’t want to force this. He needs to be ready on his own time. Otherwise it’ll go nowhere.”

Cassian nodded his understanding. “That had always been my mistake when we had a fallout. Rushing it.” His eyes didn’t leave her as he added, voice thick with emotion. “I know I shouldn’t say this, but right now, he doesn’t deserve you. The male he turned into is truly no match for you. Maybe he realized that.”

Gwyn had to squeeze her eyes together to fight the onslaught of tears threatening to fall at his words. “But the male I got to know these past two years, he was. I’m just not sure what happened to him. Or how to help him.”

“Maybe that’s the issue. He needs to help himself before he can face you again.”

The priestess contemplated his words, saw the truth in them. It didn’t make the fact that he was gone easier to accept.

She wordlessly reached her arms out for him. Cassian pulled her into a tight hug without missing a beat. The comfort he offered her was more than enough to make her break again, and she cried in his arms, cried like she lost her mate forever. The warlord held her through it, and when her tears subsided, he flashed her a small grin.

“If I see you working or training by yourself today, I’ll personally speak to Clotho. We need our Gwyn to be healthy. And that’s what you owe to yourself too, to not let your progress be dampened by a stupid male.”

“If he returns, I’ll tell him you called him that.”, Gwyn’s answering smile was nearly heartfelt.

“When, not ‘if’.”, was all he replied before spreading his wings, about to take flight, “and he knows he’s stupid himself, why else do you think he keeps his distance.”

Rhys POV

Rhysand felt confident in saying that he knew his brother.

After all, they spend nearly every year of their long, immortal lives together. He knew Azriel’s tells and quirks by heart, even though he didn’t have many. He stood by his side through good and truly awful times, always ready to reach out a hand should he want it. He rarely did, only relying on his own instincts, and those of his shadows. Rhysand was certain the worst his brother looked was right after he joined them in the war camp as children, and during the first war.

Those two instances were nothing compared to the sight of Azriel now.

The Shadowsinger strode through the door of his office, reports in hand ready to drop them off as quickly as possible before vanishing again to Mother-knows-where. And the High Lord had to stop himself from flinching in his face when he took him in.

For lack of better description, Azriel looked dead. Like a walking, barely talking corpse. His previously gold-brown skin had turned nearly ashen, eyes bloodshot and void of any emotion. His leathers were clearly the same ones he had worn yesterday, and the day before that. And if Lord Devlon could see the way his wings dragged on the floor, he’d undoubtedly get a beating.

And Azriel would undoubtedly take it, like he took all the dangerous and borderline suicidal missions. With the air of someone who thought he deserved nothing more.

“Here, the summarized reports on Autumn and on Koshei.”, Azriel’s voice had gone rough with disuse. He placed the papers on Rhy’s desk, then stepping back to await another command.

Rhysand contemplated to force him into a vacation. But knowing Azriel, he’d take it as another insult. Standing by idly as he beat himself up had never been easy, and especially not now. “Have you seen your mother this week?”, he asked instead.

Azriel clearly turned suspicious by the abrupt change of topic. “No. Do you have anything more you need me to do?”

Rhys shook his head, levelling his eyes at Azriel’s. The will and sheer recklessness in them had always shocked the High Lord. And right now, he was worried that Azriel would purposefully hurt himself if he wasn’t given another task.

“You’ll receive my orders as soon as you saw your mother.”, he spoke slowly, letting it sink in.

The Shadowsinger raised his brows. “And why would I do that?”

“So she can talk some sense into you. Or beat it into you, whatever works.”, he shot back. Azriel had always reacted worse to coddling than to anger.

His brother snorted, his eyes flicking to the ceiling. “And why exactly do I need that?”

“Because I don’t want you destroying yourself, or Gwyn.”

Her name acted like an arrow to his chest. Azriel stumbled back, his aloof façade falling bit by bit, shadows tightening around him.

“I know you want to punish yourself. But take a step back and see that your behavior punishes others, too.”, Rhysand said carefully.

“I needed to do it.”, was all his brother replied, as cryptic and absent as never before. As he turned to leave the office, Rhysand prayed it wasn’t the last time he saw his brother alive.

Azriel POV

Azriel flew. That’s what he’d been doing after the solstice party, after the confrontation with Gwyn, and it was all he would be doing for the rest of his life. It wasn’t exactly fun, more so a way to flee. He’ll never forgive himself for what he said to her, and he hoped she won’t do either.

That had been the plan, after all. To hurt her so badly, she’ll run and never turn back. Because what would await her with the bond acknowledged or even consummated might be the death of her. And Gwyn slowly withering and dying to keep their relationship going, to keep him in check, was the one thing in his miserable life that he couldn’t possibly take.

He flew for hours. Not feeling the cold or the fatigue creeping through his tired muscles. Maybe, if he did it long enough, that cold would settle in his heart, numbing it enough to live with the fact that he pushed her away. His closest friend, fiercest competition, the only true love he ever had. His mate.

His wings carried him all the way back home, working exclusively on muscle memory.

As soon as he landed in the blooming garden, bees and birds filling it with life, the front door banged open. And on the threshold stood his mother.

“Gods above, what happened to you?”, she greeted him, her usually melodic voice laced with concern and the slight edge of suspicion.

Azriel was at loss for words, just standing amidst the colorful plants like a thunderstorm about to rip them out by the root. “I have a mate.”

Malia’s nostrils flared the second the words left his mouth, confirming them as the truth. The scent of the bond was another factor driving him insane.

His mother gaped at him, took in his sickly skin, the exhaustion radiating off his body, and wordlessly gestured for him to come inside. She sat him down in the kitchen, busing herself with brewing some tea. Azriel knew it was her way of collecting her thoughts. If he were a better male, he’d do that as well instead of immediately lashing out. When her hands were no longer occupied, she sat before him.

“She rejected you, I assume.”, her words held no reproach, only the sadness of a mother who had to witness her boy breaking in front of her very eyes.

Azriel shook his head, not trusting his voice. His mother had that effect on him – she saw right through him until he couldn’t help but be vulnerable. Only one other person held that power over him. His body fought back a physical reaction at the mere thought of her.

“You rejected her because of your love for Gwyn?”, she guessed again, brows furrowing in confusion.

The Shadowsinger supported his arms on the table, letting his head fall between his hands. “It’s her. She is my mate. Gwyn.”

His mother sat back, eyes never leaving him. “Azriel, this is not the moment to let me ferret every piece of information out of you! If Gwyn is your mate, why are you currently not celebrating?”

He almost forgot what it felt like to cry. The last time he did it was when Rhys let himself be captured and bound under the mountain. Now, his hot tears burned a rivulet down his cheeks. If he let the single image of embracing and kissing his mate take root in him, he’d shatter.

He wasn’t celebrating because his mind didn’t let him.

“I-“, he started, failing to find appropriate words to describe the onslaught of feelings inside of him. He never expected anyone to support his decision, yet he yearned for understanding from his mother. “She knew for two years. And when the bond snapped for me on solstice, I panicked. I love her, and every single day I spent with her made me feel it more clearly. She was free to go anytime, and that thought calmed me. But-“, he stopped again, wiping the tears away and running his hands through his hair, “But then I got angry. Angry at the Mother, for shackling her to me like that. For ripping away her option out. I said some hurtful – devastating – things to her in my rage.”

At some point his mother had stood, rounding the table to sit closer beside him, her hand grasping his forearm in support. “You did it on purpose. To make her reject you.”

“Yes.”, he pressed his lips together.

“Why?”

Azriel took at deep breath. “Because Gwyn is everything. She is a Goddess, all the good in the world. She is bravery and strength and kindness. And I am fucking bastard. Who the hell decided we’re evenly matched? If we are to be mated, it will be the death of her. I will be the death of her.”

His mother went quiet for a bit, letting his words sink in, together with the excruciating pain that laced them. He hoped she’d understand. Or at least attempt to.

She didn’t.

“Stupid boy.”, gone was the concern in her voice, her face. Now he was again 12 years old and about to get a tongue lashing. “Stupid, blind boy.”

Malia stood, her chair scraping back on the wooden floor. His mother was one to pace when she felt agitated. Agitation was a mild word for what she felt currently.

“Azriel. I have been begging you to take up counselling for centuries. What happened to you as a boy, and after under the past High Lord’s command, was enough trauma to damage 10 people, let alone one single male.”, her own eyes were filling with tears now. Regret and shame, he knew, for not finding a way to rescue him from her master. He shook his head at her words, trying to wordlessly soothe these feelings within her.

“Do you realize that you finally got what you always wanted? A headstrong, witted, understanding female that chose to be by your side. And you damaged the relationship beyond repair just because you felt the bond between you two? Because you think you are unworthy of her? That was not for you to decide!”, she scolded, each admission a stab to his gut. “The girl is not your counsellor, nor is she a punching bag you can throw your emotions at.”

She rubbed her forehead with her delicate fingers. It had been a few centuries since he was the reason for her headache. “The issue is that you both look at the same person with two completely different sets of eyes. Gwyn sees you how the rest of your family and friends see you: as a brave, smart, loyal male who carries a lot of pain with him. But that was never the problem, not for your brothers, for me or for Gwyn. You, on the other hand”, she stifled a sob, “I can’t comprehend the way you see yourself. You are so far gone in your own head that no one will ever share the opinion you have of yourself.”

He wanted to believe her so desperately. His heart yearned for the love she claimed everyone felt for him. But it wasn’t true. She said these things because she’s his mother.

Azriel just nodded, unsure of what to say.

Malia fell quiet for a while too, thinking and analyzing the situation further. Azriel only sat and stared. He felt nothing anymore. Finally.

“You need to speak to Gwyn”, she finally muttered, “not just to clear things up for her, but for your own health too.” The Shadowsinger had know how painful a strained bond could be. He’d endure it for her. He’d happily die if she finally decided to reject it.

“Go. And explain yourself as best as you can. Pray to the Mother she’ll hear you. Truly hear you. Listen to her opinion, then make a decision.”, Malia finally said, “Not many great things happened when you let only yourself be in charge of your life.”

Gwyn POV

Two weeks had passed since she last saw him. The pain she felt by now wasn’t only the dull throb of her heart, no. Every cell of her body rebelled, screamed at her to find him, kiss him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. Gwyn took to taking ice-cold baths in the evening, cooling down her heated blood and numbing the sensations she just couldn’t control.

Tucked into bed, a romance novel in her hand, she pretended to read before falling into a fitful sleep. Nesta had asked her this morning what the book was about, Gwyn couldn’t recall.

As she turned another page, she cut her finger on the paper with the tremor that went through her. She felt him, felt the bond vibrate with his presence. He was in the house.

Right as she put the book down, a knock sounded at her door.

“May I come in?”

Tears started flowing at the first word he uttered. She croaked out a quiet ‘yes’, then he stepped inside.

Gwyn’s eyes widened at the sight of him, temporarily forgetting her own misery. He was practically a corpse, looking just as bad as she felt. But shame and hurt shone bright in his face as he took a tentative step in her direction.

The priestess leaped from the bed, crossing the space of the room in just a heartbeat, and enveloped him in her arms. Her body molded itself to his so tightly she couldn’t tell where she began and he ended. All she knew was his arms wrapping around her too, then his wings. The bond between them thrummed with the attention, and for a second, everything felt right. If she could pretend what he said never happened, she’d be happy. But the hurtful words he had thrown at her weighted heavy.

She untangled herself from him first, needing the physical distance to regain clarity. She wanted him back, that much was clear. But she also needed an explanation. And it better be a good one.

Gwyn sank on the edge of the bed, suddenly shy. How do you bridge the abyss that had opened up between them? She was saved from an answer by Azriel.

“I’ve come to talk to you. To make this right.”, he stumbled over the words in a manner she’d never seen from him before. When he struggled to continue after that, he began reaching in the pockets of his trousers.

She watched with rapt attention and slight confusion as he pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

“Since-“, he started, unfolding the paper with shaky hands, “since I’m shit at opening up in a conversation and I don’t trust myself with the importance of this, I have written down my thoughts. Is that okay?”

Gwyn narrowed her eyes. “I don’t want to read it. I need you to say it.”

The Shadowsinger was quick to nod. “Of course. This is just in case I mess up.”

Her heart squeezed together as she motioned at him to start. He looked so lost, so anxious that she wanted nothing more than hug him close again.

“My love,” he began reading, “when I found out we are mates, my first feeling was shock. Mostly because I hadn’t noticed during all this time we were together, but also because I didn’t believe it to be true. I apologize for winnowing away at that moment, for leaving you in this vulnerable position. My thoughts began to spiral and it became clear to me within minutes that I didn’t want you to acknowledge or accept the bond.”

He swallowed hard. Gwyn continued to stare at him. So that part was true. He didn’t want her to be his mate. The priestess thought she’d known heartbreak, but it had been nothing compared to what she felt now. Her lungs started seizing with effort to keep her breathing.

“I didn’t want you to accept it because then you’d have been shackled to me for your whole life. You’d have to deal with a male who constantly disappoints, who is too detached, too angry, too burdened with the past to ever be a good mate to you. I felt like I was about to kill you. Not intentionally, but with every one of my bad habits, after every return from a mission or visit to Hewn City, your soul would have yielded yet another piece to me. Because I know you’d try to help, to keep my mind out of the gutter.”

His voice quivered, as he continued reading. “I love you. I love you with all my heart. But I abhor myself. And that was all I saw when I met you again here. When I said-“, he stopped to collect himself, but didn’t shy away from the ugly truth, “I said that you couldn’t handle my occupation, the dark side of me that people are afraid of, but don’t really know. Until I die there won’t be a minute I’m not loathing myself for these words, for being the reason for your tears.”

“I know now that I had no business trying to manipulate you into rejecting me. It wasn’t my place to keep such an immeasurable decision from you. I apologize for that too.”

“The pain you must have felt these past days and weeks makes me feel even more ashamed about how I handled this situation. I thought I acted in your best interest, but it was really just my own ego protecting me from the prospect of letting you see the issues I carry around. I hope this explained my anger and confusion. I am so sorry.”

He had finished, discarding the wrinkled piece of paper on the small coffee table beside him. Then he kneeled before Gwyn’s legs, repeating. “I’m sorry, Gwyn. I know I don’t deserve you. Not now, and not before I fucked this up so badly. But please know that I never stopped loving you. My heart and soul belonged to you since you sliced the ribbon in training. Do with them as you wish.”

He bowed his head before her, his wings drooping to the floor on either side. Beaten, defeated and –

And hers.

Gwyn wiped away the silent tears that escaped her during his explanation, placing both hands on either side of his face. She forced his gaze upwards, forced him to hold hers. Now was not the moment to shy away anymore.

“Thank you for that, Azzy.”, her voice trembled almost as bad as her fingers, “I forgive you for panicking. I forgive you for disappearing on me.” She leaned forwards slowly, giving him time to move back should he want it, and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’m not sure yet if I can forgive your words.”

Azriel nodded his head, lips pressed together to keep his own emotions at bay.

“I love you too, Az. And not only because of this cauldron-damned bond, but because you have always been my hero. You impress me daily with you sharp mind, with your persistence, patience, and loyalty. You make me laugh, you challenge me to be better, you make me feel things I’d long forgotten.”

“I would have never rejected the bond.”, her voice grew firmer as his eyes flickered with disbelief, “You could have thrown anything at me, I would have never rejected you. I would have fought for this relationship, because I know you, the true you. And the male you showed up as these last weeks wasn’t him.”

The Shadowsinger nodded again, pain etching itself in every corner of his face. “It had gotten worse for a time, the chaos in my mind. Only with you it would sometimes lighten. But never for long.”

Gwyn’s thumbs stroked up and down his cheeks in a soothing manner. “I knew something was off, yet I didn’t do anything. I failed you in that regard. As did your brothers.”

“You did all you could. This is something I have to deal with myself. Speaking to me about my mood wouldn’t have led to anything other than an argument.”, he signed. “I took up counselling.”

Gwyn’s brows shot up, her fingers stopping their soothing movement. She had nagged him to try talking to a professional for some time, yet he always refused, claiming his busy schedule for not wanting to go. “Why?”

“So I could be a better brother, a better spymaster, not letting my emotions get the better of me. So I could be a better boyfriend, if you’ll still have me.”, he explained, flushing a little beneath his gaunt and pale cheeks. “The writing-down was a strategy my counsellor said I could use. I know it’s stupid. But better than hurting you again.”

Gwyn smiled. The first smile in what felt like forever. “It’s not. I’m glad you are doing this. But please also do it for yourself, not just so you can be of better service to others. You already are a great brother and uncle, you are brilliant at your job. You are so valued and loved beyond the position you hold.”

Azriel swallowed again. “Thank you.” After a short beat of silence, he added, “Will you still have me as your boyfriend? I’m not going to blame you if you wouldn’t.”

Gwyn waited to reply. It wasn’t like she had to actually think about her answer. She just needed a bit more groveling from him. “No.”

The Shadowsinger went still. Completely and utterly still beneath her fingers. Resignation began to settle in his eyes, and Gwyn decided to finally release him from his misery. “But I’ll have you as my mate.”

Three years later

Gwyn straightened the already perfect lengths of fabric around her skirt. Nervous was an understatement for what she felt, but it was still nothing compared to the love that radiated off her. Her face had started hurting from the permanent smile it wore. And yet, when she looked at herself for one last time in the mirror, it grew another fraction.

That’s what getting married to Azriel will do to you.

They had decided for a ‘first look’ before they went to the chapel together. It fit the couple perfectly, since they have always been private. Azriel’s first look at her should be exclusively for him.

Gwyn patted down the stairs to the living room of the town house, waiting for her soon-to-be husband.

They had come a long way since the moment their bond snapped for him. They remained boyfriend-girlfriend for a while after, not wanting to rush into a mating bond when both of them couldn’t yet give 100% to their partner. Azriel went to counselling twice a week, squeezing in more sessions when he knew he’d be gone for a week or two. He had worked hard – for himself, for her and his family – and he continued to put in the work. The six filled out journals he kept in his bedside table were testament to his consistency and will, his bravery in confronting his trauma. Gwyn was incredibly proud of him, and she told him so whenever he’d hear it.

The mating bond between them wasn’t yet consummated however. Gwyn still struggled with the frenzy aspect it brought with it, even though they were now well versed in each other’s bodies. But they had nothing but time.

“Gwyn!”, Nesta’s voice pulled her back to reality, “I bring you your husband.” She sounded ridiculously excited.

“Thank you Nes, I couldn’t possibly have found her without you.”, another amused voice chimed in. Gwyn’s body reacted to it immediately, goosebumps travelling up her spine.

Nesta snorted. “You needed this escort, admit it or not. Cassian said you barely managed to tie your own tie this morning.”

“My love, I hope you know you are marrying into a family full of busybodies.”, Azriel addressed her, still hidden from view behind the corner. Gwyn grinned, not only at their bickering, but at the prospect of officially belonging to his family in a few hours. Or rather, he in hers. Azriel Berdara just had such a nice ring to it, they couldn’t resist.

“This busybody is taking off now. Have fun – but not too much fun, please actually make it to the ceremony.”, her best friend warned, then clicked the door shut behind her.

The house filled with silence. Gwyn reveled in it, soaking up all the excitement.

“May I see you?”, his voice was already husky with emotion. Rhysand had joked the night before that Azriel will be the one to cry buckets during and after the ceremony, while they needed to contain Gwyn to keep her from bouncing off the walls with energy.

Gwyn positioned herself next to the fireplace, glancing on last time at her beautiful, simple white gown. Then she gave her okay.

Azriel rounded the corner to step into the living room, and Gwyn was sure none of them was breathing for an alarming amount of time. He looked stunning, handsome in the way a nice suit made you handsome. But the warmth and love radiating off him put him on a different level. Gwyn resisted the urge to pinch herself at the thought that he was to be hers. Married for now, mated for later.

Azriel himself mirrored her expression, eyes filling with tears as he took her in.

“Like what you see, Shadowsinger?”, her voice was meant to be teasing, but it came out softer than anticipated. Wanting his approval, she realized.

Azriel swallowed hard, crossing the room until he stood right in front of her. His scarred hand caressed her cheek, eyes wide in wonder. He took in her half-up, half-down arranged hair with little pearls braided in, her light glowing make-up, and lastly, the delicate lace covering her shoulders.

“I had thought about what kind of compliment I was going to give you in this moment, but I have forgotten all of them.”

Gwyn smiled. “I’ll give you some time till the end of the day. But then I want compliments to rival the greatest poets in history.” Azriel chuckled, reaching for her hands to intertwine them with his. “You look perfect Shadowsinger.”

Gwyn could swear he actually blushed a little. So she went on, ever the partner to enjoy his squirming. “You look like mine.”

“That’s because I am.”, he simply replied. And now they stood their like idiots, grinning at each other with pink blooming on both their faces.

Gwyn reached up on her tiptoes, kissing her Shadowsinger for what felt like the first time. The butterflies in her tummy exploded at the taste of his lips. The bond between them sang and glowed, knowing how far they’ve come. Azriel reciprocated the kiss with a tenderness that rivalled hers, slowly gliding his tongue against her until she opened up for him.

The priestess was just about to forget the warning Nesta threw at them as Azriel pulled back, her lip-gloss smeared across his mouth.

“I know I say this all the time and I feel like I need stronger words for the feeling I’m trying to express – but, I love you.”, he said softly.

“Oh, I know Shadowsinger.”, she giggled, “But I’m still going to need proof of that.”

Azriel raised a brow, fighting to keep his own smile off his lips. “And how will I prove it?”

“I’ve got some ideas,” Gwyn mused, “First, you’ll go with me to the chapel to swear this apparent undying love for me forever. After that you are going to dance with me throughout the whole celebration, and then…” Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “Then you’ll do everything and anything I ask of you for the rest of the night.”

He simply lifted on of her hands up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to it. A kiss that promised exactly what she’d asked from him. “Forever at your service, priestess.”

Azriel pulled her forward, holding his arm out for her to take. Gwyn placed her own hands on his offered arm, feeling the strength hidden underneath the pristine suit. Ready to get married. They walked all the way to the chapel together, arms linked, steps aligned like only two people who are attuned to each other can. The best part was that this was only the beginning.

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #Azriel #acotar #gwyneth berdara #Gwyn #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #acotar writing #gwynriel writing

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fairmaidenn · 1 year

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Hawkeye episode 5 'Ronin' Kate and Yelena script

Kate: So what do you want?

Yelena: Well, it's my first time in New York. Mmm-hmm. But it's a business trip so time is limited. But I do want to see some things. I want to see, uh, the Empire State building. The new and improved Statue of Liberty, and the Rockefeller center.

Kate: *chuckles* Very funny.

Yelena: What, it's not good?

Kate: Oh. No, they're- they're great. Yeah you... I mean you've got to see the tree.

Yelena: *gasps* Mmm. Exactly. See? I love American Christmases. The tree, the presents, the super-powered reindeer, Rudolph.

Kate: Mmm-hmm, Rudolph, yeah.

Yelena: He is so weird *chuckles*. Have you ever eaten reindeer?

Kate: Cannot say I've had the pleasure. No.

Yelena: It's... *laughs* No it is not a pleasure. No it's, um, it's really tough. It's chewy. Mm, you have to braise it for a really long time. But hey, Kate Bishop, you grew up here, right? You must have some recommendations for me.

Kate: Yeah... um... *laughs* Yeah, I have. Let's see. The High Line. The High Line is great. Um... There's a Christmas market in the square. I'm quite sure these are the right fit for the blood-thirsty vigilante type.

Yelena: *Laughs* Blood-thirsty vigilante *chuckles* sometimes you are funny, Kate Bishop.

Kate: Do you keep saying my name just to point out that you know it?

Yelena: Yes. I know a lot about you. Mother, Eleanor. Lives on Park and 41st. Father, Derek, deceased. Very sad. And you recently walked into traffic to save a dog, which I'll admit is pretty cool, and you got a few points from me on that. Um... University GPA 3.8. Senior, double major, and-

Kate: Right, okay. We get it. Thank you. Are you in New York to talk to Clint? Is that why you're here?

Yelena: No. No, no, no. I'm here to kill him. I have a question for you. What is it? Why do you risk your life for him, Clint Barton? How has everyone forgiven him for his past?

Kate: He saved the world.

Yelena: No. My sister saved the world. Natasha Romanoff, she saved the world.

Yelena: Stop pretending like you're not surprised, it does not look cool.

Kate: You're really Natasha's sister?

Yelena: Yes.

Kate: Wow, I did not see that coming. Thank God I didn't kill you up there.

Yelena: *Laughs* You kill me? Again, oh, Kate Bishop you are so funny. That's hilarious. That one is the funniest.

Kate: Natasha and Clint were friends, why are you after him?

Yelena: You are so fond of him. It tells me you don't really know who he is.

Kate: He came out here to protect me

Yelena: No, he came here to protect his reputation. Do you know how many people he killed? The trail of blood that follows him, it could wrap around the entire world.

Kate: Okay. Wow. That was very Russian.

Yelena: Hmm

Kate: He's still an Avenger.

Yelena: What does that word even mean, huh? That it holds so much power. You call him a hero no matter what he does?

Kate: It means when you choose to spend your life trying to help people there are going to be things that you lose. When you face the kind of threats that he has there is going to be collateral damage.

Yelena: My sister is gone because of him.

Kate: What? No no-

Yelena: She's gone. Is she collateral damage?

Kate: No, look, there is no way that that is true. He would not let that happen.

Yelena: How long have you known Clint Barton?

Kate: About a week.

Yelena: It will not be difficult for me to complete this assignment.

Kate: Wait a minute, somebody hired you to kill him? All I'll say is that if someone out there who is telling you Clint is a bad guy then maybe you should ask yourself what kind of person hired you. He is not perfect, nobody's perfect, but he is good.

Yelena: However he convinced you about who he is, or how many people think or call him a hero, truth is it doesn't matter. We are defined by what we do. Not by nice words. Like it or not, there is no escaping this. So… Where is he?

Kate: I don't know.

Yelena: Okay. sniffles Thank you for the girl's night, truly. Oh, and Kate Bishop… do not get in my way again.

#I just need this for my drama class but you guys can do it as well now #hawkeye #yelena marvel #kate bishop #marvel #script #Ronin

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twatkcox · 2 months

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[TWATKRant XX]

Don't get your hopes up. This is not about my plans for this year.

xxxxxxxxxx

It's been a couple of months since 2024 started, but I felt it'd be the same as the previous year. It's not surprising, considering that there's not a single change in my anxiety-riddled life. I just don't want another repeat of that cursed previous year.

It's bad enough that the pandemic completely ruined my life, and now I won't be able to experience the pre-pandemic life once again. Just because it's back to normal doesn't mean everything will change back to how it was before COVID-19.

Now what? This year seems promising enough, but I have to deal with my worsening anxiety, which has manifested since last year. These days, I find myself in numerous tough situations, mostly personal issues. I don't even know how to deal with my family anymore, and my desire to shift to atheism has become stronger since that unfortunate incident last year. I find it increasingly difficult to spend my weekends outdoors, no thanks to the pandemic. That makes me want to vent my anger to God for letting this unfortunate catastrophe happen, at a time when I'm about to spend the last years of my bittersweet life enjoying all the things I could.

And so, I'm about to list down some of the things that I want to happen for this year. I initially promised to be kinder to myself this 2024, but now I have the feeling that I cannot do it just yet since I still wasn't able to go out on most Saturdays, except during those mall-hopping trips. God intentionally made this happen so that I can express my extreme hatred towards him even more.

Now then, where do I start?

With all the terrible things that happened in the last few years, I'm slowly losing hope and I'm about to plan a sudden exit from this world. I'm trying to make the most of the remaining years of my life, yet something is preventing me from doing so. Why is that? I just wished that I could resume my weekend rituals, just like the pre-pandemic days. It is where I'm at my best.

My worsening anxiety is starting to impede my ability to think clearly. I ended up getting disoriented and depressed, and at times, contemplating my own demise. I really need to clear my mind of some negative thoughts, but that might depend on the situation. I hope I won't encounter any more upsetting moments in life.

I thought I might want a change in scenery. That's why I'm working to reclaim my weekends back so I can enjoy them once again. And not something like going out once a week, or something like that.

xxxxxxxxxx

Well, I thought I might want to ease up on my misotheist thoughts for now. These words are much stronger than you think.

Back in January, Instagram has been showing its defects, first by not being able to select photos from my external storage. And now what? Once I managed to upload some of the photos (by temporarily copying the ones I wanted to upload via internal memory), it no longer saves copies of the uploaded pics, even when the option to automatically save pics is turned on. What kind of bulls**t is this, Meta?

Previously, the saved copies of photos from my Instagram uploads, although viewable via my smartphone and Google Photos site, cannot be viewed on my PC via the Windows Photos app (it shows that the format is unsupported, or something like that). Unsurprisingly, it does not affect individually uploaded pics.

What is wrong with you?

xxxxxxxxxx

I was thinking of writing a post that deals primarily with aging and why I think negatively of it. I suppose I won't live long enough to experience that, but who knows?

I mean, what's good about aging anyway? It's basically just limiting your physical activities, acquiring health issues like high blood or diabetes, not being able to enjoy the things you used to do, and getting cranky towards the younger generation. Is that what it's supposed to be like?

If that's the way it is, then I'm aiming not to get past my 30s. After all, getting old sucks. Even at my current age, I'm starting to experience old-people symptoms, like arthritis or back pain. That's one way of suffering the worst of my greatest anxieties in life.

xxxxxxxxxx

I've been thinking about this for a very long time. You know, in case my old friends (from elementary) would ever think of reaching out to me once again, more than two decades after last seeing them. In fact, I just ran into one of them a few weeks ago, which is kind of a surprise.

Years ago, I managed to meet up with one of my so-called friends from elementary. In fact, he actually wanted to see me in person just for the sole purpose of a business talk. I was really disappointed thinking that this could be my opportunity to ask what happened after I left my former school, but all I got were vague answers. I even attempted to have a friendly chat, but it all ended up in such BS business talk. Since then, I become wary of unexpected chat messages from my old friends.

To think I no longer had any grudge against them after ostracizing me at such an unexpected time? They need to see how much I've changed since I left that boring, depressing private school. So, do you think there'll be a chance of us having a reunion? If you ask me, it'll be very unlikely. I mean, I've already moved on from that, and I don't want to go back. They're all strangers to me from that point on. There's no way I'll ever gonna put a closure to that miserable incident from way, way back.

xxxxxxxxxx

Why? I may have endured so much misery, yet I was never happy. Perhaps I was never destined to be happy at all. Maybe I'll end up taking some meds to ease up my anxiety and depression, even at the cost of a risky side effect. God really wanted me to live this kind of life so that I would suffer.

My pessimism may have taken over my life these past few years, but I know I still have that optimistic outlook. Just don't give me any reason to doubt myself, God, and/or the people around me.

#life crisis #rant #thoughts

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

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Inevitable (04) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected/protected sex but be safe please!)

Chapter Word count: 9.9k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

Series Masterlist || Previous || Next

Getting to know Jungwon hasn’t been as difficult as Jungkook dreaded it to be. The first few dates were tricky because he had to re-establish himself as the man who fixed the little one’s airplane, until it got old and Jungkook had to figure out different openings.

But he also wanted to be remembered as more than the man giving Jungwon chocolate milk or sweet snacks, and definitely more than the Cookie Monster. Since that impromptu stay-in at your place that one Saturday, he feels there's been progress towards the goal of Jungwon wanting Jungkook to be his father.

That’s what you both decided, anyway, that you were going to wait for the little one to be comfortable enough to want that, and not be something that you, as his parents, would impose.

There’s a reason why you never introduced any other man to Jungwon, why you always reinforced Taehyung and Namjoon as his uncles, why you made sure your son never saw any man be affectionate to you, as he may take this differently, given his kindergarten mates often talked about seeing their parents hold hands and kiss.

You told Jungkook all this and he’d been thankful for you paving the way for Jungwon to feel the difference of how Jungkook is with him. This has also been the reason why aside from dinners on some weeknights, the weekend playdates have also gone on for longer.

It’s only just been several weeks but there was that time at the park with the cool playground near Jungkook’s apartment. Jungwon had initially been careful and shy with the other kids around but Jungkook was helping him in every step, every slide, every seesaw, and every swing.

There was another time when you all went to one of the Han River parks. Taehyung had joined with a picnic basket full of fruits and sweets and Jungkook and Jungwon devoured the mini cakes and cookies. That day, Jungkook brought a baseball and taught Jungwon how to play catch. The moment was quite emotional for him, as he remembered the first time his own father introduced the game to him just like that.

The little one’s hand-eye coordination needed some work, so they took to piggyback rides and superman lifts after some time. Those were requests from Jungwon, as anything remotely physical was something you and Jungkoik wanted your son to initiate as well. He was the first one to ask to be carried, to be tossed, and had been the one to hug Jungkook goodbye that one time.

What has been difficult for him was getting to know you all over again. After the anger turned into appreciation for everything you’ve done, for how much you sacrificed and did everything right when it came to raising your child, it had been natural for Jungkook to pick up on all the things different and the same about you.

You’re still the same smart, go-getter individual who takes command and knows how to get people to agree with her, like that time during your Saturday conference calls when you directed both meetings and had the whole team go with your ideas. He didn’t miss the little smirk you made after the final agreements.

You still have that tough demeanor, standing your ground like those times he’d heard you negotiate with merchants over the phone, or when you’d side-eyed strangers who snickered when Jungwon was having a mini-tantrum in a public place because he does still have his moments.

You’re still patient and understanding when it comes to Jungkook’s career, how you never minded when he would be approached by people asking for a photo, or how you always understood when he had to move dinner to another day at the last minute.

You still prefer not to ask for help, like that one Sunday he was over and you spent it doing chores and you rejected his every offer to help, joking that you really don’t wanna fight him in front of your son. How you now minded him helping you wasn’t lost on him, though.

You were so tired that day that you fell asleep right as you sat on the couch, hugging Ms. Monkeypants and playing with her ear. Jungkook softened at this because your knack for playing with ears - whether a person’s or a stuffed toy’s - is still very much a part of you.

He’s noticed differences, too, like how you’ve been more open with your emotions. He thinks it’s something you had to learn to model to Jungwon - naming what you feel because it helps with his emotional vocabulary - and it’s a welcome change.

He saw you get teary-eyed watching Toy Story 3, too, then hugging Jungwon who was trying to hug all his toys and telling them he loves them.

Jungkook rarely saw you cry when you were together; it wasn’t something you normally did. You always said it wasn’t out of thinking it was a weakness but you just didn’t like others seeing that vulnerable side of you, and it made you feel like you didn’t have control.

He smiles thinking that perhaps Jungwon has taught you how to be willing and more comfortable with expressing your feelings, even if it’s because of an animated movie about toys.

It doesn’t help, too, that you look just as gorgeous as before, whether you’re wearing your work clothes or your casual clothes, whether you’re trying to discipline Jungwon when he won’t listen to you and you have this serious face on, or when you look so tender and enchanted while you’re watching the little one be himself.

This has been so difficult because Jungkook has spent the past 5 years trying to forget about you, trying to forget how you sound, how you look, how you feel. And now, it’s as if he never got to do that at all.

While physical touches have been limited to fingers brushing or elbows touching, just seeing you is enough to remind him how it was like to hold you. Many times he’d been tempted to straighten your eyebrows when they were scrunched out of frustration, or engulf your hands in his when they were shaking out of stress, or pinch your cheeks just to get a reaction out of you because you never enjoyed it before.

But more than those, he’d wanted to hug you, as if to thank you for everything you’ve done, and then hug you some more as if to make up for the times you felt exhausted, scared, worried, and alone. He’d wanted to hold you so tightly as if to tell you that you won’t be going through all this by yourself anymore because he’s around now.

And there had been moments when he just wanted to pull you close and kiss you, because no matter how hard he tried to forget you, to erase the memories of you from his mind, it had been impossible, even if you were the one who wanted to end it, and even if he agreed and told you not to reach out to him out of bitterness.

You don’t get to repair a broken heart just like that, you don’t get over a love just like that.

When you walked out of his life, the anger was fleeting, leaving him with this suffocating hollowness inside of him that was more than sadness but not emptiness; it was that feeling that his whole being, his whole self knew that something was missing.

He’d gone on to do everything he set out to do, offered every single game to his father, relished every moment of the dream he’s known since he was a child.

Losing his father left this permanent scar, like a reminder of what was lost, a pain he only remembers feeling, but losing you felt like an open wound, like it could hurt and burn when touched, left open and vulnerable to further pain, like it just refused to heal and close up.

He at least wanted to just remember the pain, not have to feel it every single day. He’d been very good at hiding it, masking it with other things, like spending every waking hour he could at training or the gym, doing the bare minimum of socializing, dating a celebrity who felt just as heartbroken and lonely like he did.

Coming home and finding out the truth made him feel anger again, but it multiplied the pain he continued to feel. Regret came not long after, realizing that maybe he hadn’t done enough to make you trust him, to make you trust his love for you.

Getting to know Jungwon has done so much, not just for the relationship he’s desperate to build with his son, but also for forgiving you. But while you’ve proven that you want nothing more than for that father-son relationship to develop and solidify, making sure that Jungwon doesn’t get to have any other father except for Jungkook, he also knows it’s not that simple.

You two never really talked about the break up, come to think of it; everything had been about your son. Jungkook doesn’t know if you really meant everything you said that night, that you’ve been tired being with him, and if you truly thought that you’re not what he needed.

You’ve also said that you’ve never let any man close enough because you were waiting for him to take his rightful place as Jungwon’s father; that had been enough to not let anybody in. But now he’s here, and he feels he’s getting closer to the goal, and that may leave you open and willing and ready for another kind of love, the one you’ll trust, the one you’ll cherish.

These thoughts remain in Jungkook’s mind and he’s afraid to be vulnerable. He’s scared to be close again, to let you in, because if that’s not something you want, not only will he not know how to recover this time, but he also can’t risk Jungwon being caught in the crossfire. He can’t let Jungwon see his father broken.

It’s 6PM on a Friday and Jungkook is hitting balls in their training facility’s indoor batting cage, with Jin in the next lane who’s been enjoying the perks of being cousins with the Bears’ star hitter. He’s hitting too, not for practice but to let out frustrations, given how enamored he is with his rival resto-bar’s owner who’s just as persuasive and charming as he is.

The cousins are bickering, with Jungkook stating that Jin’s just afraid to be dominated by someone because he knows he’s a terrible sub - earning him ball hits from Jin that don’t land - and with the older man countering that Jungkook’s just afraid to admit that he likes you, a complete 180 from how it was in college.

“Why are you so convinced that I like her? May I remind you that she broke my heart. I’ve moved on, okay?” Jungkook defends, worried not to give anything away. It’s not something he’s verbalized, afraid of it snowballing then not being ready for the consequences.

“Why are you so convinced that I wouldn’t notice?” Jin deadpans, confused as to why Jungkook feels the need to deny it. “I’m the last person to fall for your bullshit, Kook. And you’re probably the most expressive person I know. Your eyes are so big, I can see them shift from Jungwon to ___ from a mile away, and lingering. And don’t think I don’t miss how you force yourself to not bite your lips to stop yourself from smiling when she’s around.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes but curses himself for still being so transparent. That’s what he was with you back in college; it was easy for the guys to know when he’d fallen for you because of the change in demeanor, how during his most serious moments during training and games, seeing you in the stands suddenly turned him into a lovesick puppy who just couldn’t stop beaming.

“Shut up, I need to focus,” he deflects, earning him a laugh from the older man.

Jungkook continues his bats, shouts of approval from the coaching staff and team members present echoing in the facility.

His phone rings and he immediately drops everything and runs to it, the specific ringtone indicating that it’s you on the other line, something he decided just in case there’s an emergency so he knows not to ignore it.

“___, everything okay?”

At this, Jin laughs and rolls his eyes. Emergency or not, it doesn’t explain the smile that’s currently on Jungkook’s face after you say that things are fine.

“Are you busy? I’m sorry for calling, I didn’t know who else to ask. I know you mentioned training tonight,” you say on the other line.

Jungkook moves out of the netted area and sits farther away from the noise coming from the others batting.

“No, it’s okay. I have time. What do you need?”

“I’m caught in a meeting so I can’t pick up Jungwon from daycare yet. He gets restless when he remains in the same place for a long period of time and, well, Namjoon is in a conference and Tae is out of town. I was hoping maybe you could pick him up? If you’re not busy, or like, caught in the middle of something. If you are, I can—”

“Hey, ___, relax. Of course I can,” he states. “I’m done anyway. I can head out there now. Will they let me take him?”

“Yeah! I’ll call his teacher and vouch for you. Just give your ID and then they’ll just video call me to confirm that I’m approving you to pick Jungwon up,” you respond, the worry of disturbing Jungkook slowly disappearing at his gentle tone.

“Sure, just send me the address. And your office’s too, so I’ll know where to drop him off.”

“Yes, yes. I will,” you respond.

Your boss calls you from the room since break is over. “Just text me if something comes up. Thank you so much, Jungkook. I’ll see you, bye!”

Jungkook drops the call and rushes to get his things, leaving a howling Jin who screams that Jungkook is in love.

Jungkook, in fact, did not need to give his ID. Turns out, the teachers are baseball fans (or have probably been watching the news) and had dropped whatever they were holding at the sight of him entering their humble daycare, asking for Jungwon.

He doesn’t miss how one whispers over the phone that “you didn’t tell me it’s the Jeon Jungkook, ___. I could’ve fixed my hair!” To which you laugh and hurriedly give your approval before you go back to your meeting.

Jungwon, who looked bored inside the playroom, excitedly runs to Jungkook, shouting that “Cookie is picking me up!” That’s enough for the teachers to squeal in adoration because hunky baseball star Jeon Jungkook, going all soft at the hug of a tiny Jungwon, is definitely a sight to behold. Even more when he carries Jungwon and asks him about his day and what he learned at school earlier.

He hears the teacher call out that she wishes to see him again, and Jungkook actually hopes that she does. Having Jungwon be excited to see him definitely makes up for the past 3 days of torture at training. With the start of the season happening in May - a few weeks from now - it’s been crazy for Jungkook, knowing as well that even with his MLB stint, no one is afforded a pass in the Korean Baseball Organization League. The KBO is filled with just as many talented players and he knows that he needs to earn their respect just the same.

It’s been so tiring, as he keeps up with his early morning workout, then full-day training and conditioning. He’s lucky that the Bears at least respect its players’ time, and that he was able to leave the batting cage early to pick up his kid.

That smile, that tight hug, that story about the caterpillar he saw in the playground are all enough for Jungkook to feel rejuvenated, like all his muscle strain has healed and all the jitters leading up to opening weekend are slowly dissipating.

He definitely wants to keep doing this. And in a corner of his mind, he wishes he could go home to this, to Jungwon’s excitement and affection everyday, with you there with them.

Your office is situated in a three story building in a quiet, artsy district. From his parked car across the street, Jungkook could see the bright lights from the wall-size windows, with many people still walking around inside. He’s not sure if it’s okay for him to go inside so he asks Jungwon, knowing as well that the little one has been antsy the whole ride.

“Uncle Tete takes me inside,” Jungwon replies, which is enough of a confirmation for Jungkook.

He takes his son from the car seat, the one he decided to get in anticipation for moments like this. The pair cross the street and enter the front door, earning gasps from the people staying in the common workspace, which is connected to the reception area.

Jungkook looks around, unsure whom to ask where you are or at least where to stay while they wait. There doesn’t seem to be anyone in the reception desk so Jungkook stays still, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the deafening silence.

A woman exits a room and squeals, calling out to the little one.

“Hi, Jungwon!” She says, walking towards them. “Waiting for your mother?” Jungwon waves and responds with a nod.

Jungkook turns around and sees the woman go from smiling to nodding, whispering that “she didn’t tell me she meant the Jeon Jungkook,” proceeding to laugh. She turns to everyone else with their slacked jaws, telling them to get it together, “as if you’ve never seen a celebrity before.”

“Please don’t mind them,” she tells Jungkook. “Although I’m not sure if they’re stunned because they know who you are or because you’re just really handsome. I’m Sarang, by the way,” she says, hand out for Jungkook to shake, which he does.

“The team’s just running over final things but ___ should be done soon. You can sit on the couch over there,” she says, pointing to the corner of the room.

She follows the pair and pulls out a box from underneath the coffee table, which is filled with blocks. “We get visits from kids pretty often and Jungwon likes these,” she says, earning her a nod and thanks from Jungkook.

Sarang stands back and watches him help Jungwon get the blocks and start playing with him, shock evident on her face because this man really is the father of your child. She has been very supportive during your stay at this company, being raised by a single mom herself. She knows how hard it is and had always wished that the mysterious Jeon Jungkook would finally show up, knowing that Jungwon will just be curious as he gets older.

She excuses herself and returns to the room, while Jungkook focuses on making sure that the little one busies himself with the blocks without making much noise. He feels the stares and hears the whispers of the other people, though, seemingly shameless in their gawking but Jungkook only laughs to himself. This is something he’s used to and he doesn’t really mind the attention. It’s just a little uncomfortable because he’s with his son, in the office of his son’s mother, and he doesn’t think they know the truth.

The two stay in their own world, with Jungwon constantly saying “oops” in his tiny voice every time a block falls, then asks help from Jungkook when he can’t get a block to stay still. Jungkook enjoys this bit, teaching the little one how to properly align blocks, and his heart softens when Jungwon stares in awe then proceeds to try it himself, only to fail.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Jungkook pats his head. “You’ll get it right, just keep trying.”

It goes on like this for half an hour, until Jungkook hears the door open and a throng of people come out. Not all take notice of his presence but those who do have that same shock and curiosity on their faces, which are followed by smiles and nods and whispering, and he just shakes his head until he hears your voice, talking to another man.

The man is walking next to you, making you laugh. You both stop a few feet away from the couch, unaware of Jungkook’s and Jungwon’s presence, the older man slyly eyeing the interaction. You try to maintain a distance but the other man finds ways to move closer, and Jungkook huffs to himself because he knows what that means.

“Please, ___, tell me you’ll make it tonight. It’s been so long since you last joined us for drinks. We’re working together again and that calls for a celebration, right?” The man says, the flirtiness of his voice not lost on Jungkook.

“Jungwon’s had a long day and I just wanna be with him tonight. It’s been a tiring week too, I’m sorry,” you say. “Maybe next time?”

“Can’t you get a babysitter for him, though? Give yourself some time to let loose and have fun? Sarang has mentioned that you haven’t been out in forever,” he responds, earning him a couple of yeses from the others still lingering, unaware of Jungkook’s prying eyes and ears not far away.

“I’ll think about it, Dan. I don’t like being away from Jungwon for long, anyway.”

“Come on, ___. It’s just—”

He gets distracted by the exaggerated throat-clearing from the couch, causing the small group to look in that direction. Gasps are heard as they take in Jeon Jungkook in their office, helping Jungwon return the blocks in the box.

“Oh, Jungkook, you’re here!” You say, approaching him. “Did you wait too long?”

“No, it's just been a while,” he says, Jungwon now sighing out of tiredness, prompting Jungkook to pick him up. “You’re not joining them?”

“I’m too tired to go out, and this little one feels the same. I kept him out too long,” you pout as you rub Jungwon’s back.

“I can take you home, then,” Dan says from behind.

“That would be—”

“Unnecessary. I’ll take her home. I have the car seat and all,” Jungkook says, forcing a smile as he looks at the man who’s clearly trying his way with you. “Jeon Jungkook, by the way,” he continues, extending his hand. “I’m…”

“A friend from college,” you finish, causing Jungkook to flinch at the half truth, although telling everyone that you’re ex-lovers isn’t exactly a smart idea.

“Kyung Dan, a good friend of ___’s. We’ve worked together on a couple of projects,” he says, handshake firm, as if sizing up Jungkook. Dan is a built man, too, but nothing like Jungkook.

“Nice to meet you,” he replies, although his taut face doesn’t really match his words.

You feel tense because you’ve seen this before. This is how Jungkook used to greet the men you introduced when you were together - exchanging pleasantries, making small talk, giving a handshake, but with head-to-toe gazes and looks that could pierce glass. Somehow this makes your heart do things because he can’t actually be jealous, right? But you shake off the feeling before you become delusional.

Dan just nods, and his face contorts as one of your workmates not-so-softly says that “told you she’d be more into athletes,” which causes you to pinch your nose bridge in exasperation and Dan to fake a cough.

You don’t miss the smirk on Jungkook’s face though, as if he won this round, and you excuse yourself to get your things before things get even more awkward.

You place Jungwon in the car seat and head to the front, a little giddy at something so familiar yet new at the same time. You wait until the traffic light before you turn to Jungkook.

“Thank you for picking him up. And sorry, too if I disturbed training or something. It’s just that usually, Tae—”

“___,” Jungkook says, trying his best not to sound frustrated. He looks at the rearview mirror to check on Jungwon, who’s fallen asleep immediately, before he continues.

“You shouldn’t be sorry for a responsibility I should have, okay? I get that Tae and Namjoon do this when you’re unable but… I really don’t want to be your third option when it comes to things concerning Jungwon.”

You sigh and nod, knowing he’s right. It’s just been reflex for you to call on your best friend or your brother, and this dynamic with Jungkook is new, add to the fact that the baseball season is coming up and you know he’d be busy.

“I know we haven’t told him yet but it doesn’t change the fact I’m his father. You should be calling me. We should be doing this together. Make me the first option.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Don’t make my career any more of an excuse, please,” he says, as if he’s begging, desperate for you not to push him away again like last time.

“I know I have training but we follow hours, too. I’m done by 6 most days so I’ll always be available. I’ll let you know when I’m not and then you can call on Tae or Namjoon. Is that okay? Can we agree on that?”

“Of course, Jungkook,” you say, sighing in your seat, as if you’ve just been reprimanded.

But something about it makes your heart flutter, the way he said we, and telling you to make him your first option. You want to, so badly, more than just to pick up or take care of Jungwon, but you control your heart whatever it wants to feel, and your mind wherever it wants to wander. It’s not that simple, you remind yourself.

Asking Jungkook to forgive you for keeping Jungwon from him is one thing, but asking him to give you a chance after everything is something else. Parents staying together doesn’t always equate to the child feeling loved - it’s what you learned from Taehyung, and you’re just glad that his parents’ lack of love for each other didn’t diminish his capacity to love others with his whole heart.

This thing with Jungkook is not as straightforward as just asking for another chance because there’s so much more at stake; you can’t let Jungwon hurt at the end of this if you and Jungkook force a love that may have died all those years ago the moment you decided to walk out of his life. He did move on, you remind yourself.

It’s silent for the rest of the ride until you make it home. He walks you to your apartment door and softly pats Jungwon’s head, already in deep sleep.

“Just call, okay? Whether it’s to pick him up or look after him when you want a night out.”

You chuckle. “I don’t have time for that.”

“You used to not have time for that. I’m here now, remember? It might be good for you, too, to let loose and have fun. Might help with the stress,” he says.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jungkook is both glad and upset that you indeed kept in mind what he said about going out. He’s glad because it means he gets to spend more time with Jungwon.

Between the weekly dinners and weekend playdates, the bond between father and son is now unmistakable. He’d picked up Jungwon from daycare twice in the past two weeks, and you’d given them your approval to detour for ice cream and milkshakes on the way to you. The laughs come more easily, the hugs more natural, and the conversations, longer.

He’s a little upset because, well, of the scene playing out in front of him. It’s another Friday and you finally agreed to go out with your workmates. You and Jungkook agreed it would be better for him to watch over Jungwon at your place where he’s more comfortable, so that’s where Jungkook went, spare key in hand after he dropped by your office. They molded clay and started building a lego ship over cheese pizza for dinner.

Jungkook insisted on picking you up, stating that he’d feel less anxious instead of you being brought home by others who drank, or you going home by yourself at this time of the night. You’re both just thankful that Jungwon is a heavy sleeper and didn’t budge at all when Jungkook placed him in the car seat at 12:30 AM and then headed to you.

He’s currently parked out front, his hands gripping the wheel at the sight of that Kyung Dan blatantly flirting with you. Again. He’s walking you out of the bar and holding you by your arm as you walk down the stairs in your heels.

You don’t seem like you’ve drank much, but you’re also not pushing him away. You both settle near the car, with Dan constantly touching your elbow, and Jungkook smirks when you move your arms behind your back, as if to deny the man some access.

Your face lights up at the sight of the Lexus and Jungkook’s silhouette behind the wheel, and you start walking towards the car. Dan attempts to follow you but you wave him goodbye and head straight to the passenger seat, eyes immediately turning to Jungwon asleep in the backseat.

“Hi, how was bonding night?” You ask, eyes a bit glassy but smile just as soft. Any bit of frustration that Jungkook felt at the man trying to flirt with you melts away.

“Don’t mind the lego mess in your living room, okay? We’re gonna finish it tomorrow,” Jungkook smiles, earning him a laugh.

“You bought it? You’re spoiling him, Jungkook!”

“That’s nowhere near my kind of spoiling, ___. You have no idea what I’m capable of,” he smirks. “But he really enjoyed it, said it himself that I should come over tomorrow.”

“There you go, getting invited by the King himself,” you say, your smile mirroring Jungkook’s. “I’m glad, then. We could just stay in tomorrow. I can bake some muffins and get some chores done.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, yes to the muffins, but can you pass up on the chores? Join us. Maybe watch a movie, too. It’d be nice to, uhm, you know, just spend time together,” he stammers, wishing he doesn’t sound too forward.

“Okay, then. Yes to the muffins and to building that lego ship and watching a movie,” you grin, heart now beating fast, and it’s not from the alcohol you just consumed.

The next day, you do exactly what you’d planned and end it with contented tummies, a completed lego ship, and tears shed from watching the movie Coco.

With Jungkook coming home and you two being more than civilized, which is really the bare minimum that everyone else had hoped, your group of friends’ dynamic had slowly returned to normal.

Aside from Taehyung rejoining the guys’ group chat, you’ve rekindled your friendships with Yoongi and Hoseok, too, who were just as ecstatic to finally be seeing and talking to you again. You’re still putting off Jungwon meeting them, though, because there hasn’t really been time, given that you’ve also been prioritizing Jungkook.

Everyone is just glad that you could all be together to celebrate achievements and milestones again, like tonight at Jimin’s opening night of the Swan Lake Ballet.

All men and their plus ones - except for Yoongi and Jungkook who, by nature of their singleness, opted to be each other’s dates - are standing by the performers’ lounge, leaving Jimin so he could ease his nerves.

“So, how are you and ___?” Yoongi asks Jungkook as he eyes one of the production staff who’s definitely been checking Yoongi out as well.

“We’re good, I mean, I’ve definitely captured Jungwon’s heart. He lets me feed him now and asks me what I want to eat when we order out and—”

The older man chuckles. “Jin’s right, you’ve been deflecting. I asked about you and ___, not you and your son,” he continues, rolling his eyes.

All the guys have noticed how Jungkook tends to avoid questions about you. He often gives vague answers and proceeds to repeat stories he’s already told them about him and Jungwon, which they all enjoy, finally seeing him happy and inspired again unlike months ago. But questions about his closeness with you, about a possible resurgence of feelings - or if they even left at all - or how the progress with Jungwon would impact Jungkook’s relationship with you are always dodged.

He’s thought about his feelings for you, but he’s not ready to verbalize them, given as well that the priority is to be good enough for Jungwon. While he does acknowledge that his relationship with his son’s mother has a lot to do with that, he keeps saying that he’ll cross the bridge when he gets there. When that is, he doesn’t know, but the sooner he’s introduced to Jungwon as his father, the sooner Jungkook will have to start really thinking about what he wants with you.

“We’re good,” Jungkook says, earning him a chuckle from the older man, but Jungkook knows that he can’t get anything past Yoongi; the man has this amazing ability to just know.

“You know there’s nothing wrong with trying again, right? I mean, aside from the obvious fact that the best situation is for Jungwon to grow up in a complete and loving family, we all know how much you loved ___. Regardless of what happened, I think at some point you were gonna try and see if it was still possible to get back what you lost.”

Jungkook chuckles. Yoongi really does know.

“Why do you think that, though?”

“I think it’s common to measure how much we loved someone by how broken and lost we were when they let us go. I mean, most of the guys think that way. You may have felt like that but you didn’t really lose your way, did you?” Yoongi says.

“Sure you changed but you didn’t really lose yourself when you were out there. None of the vices, the playing around, the recklessness. You did what you had to do. And you were still you, just a really sad version.”

Jungkook nods, recalling how his friends took turns visiting him in the US, making sure everything was okay.

“We were all anxious that things were gonna go downhill because of what happened, you know? But it never did. Because from what I’ve seen in your years together, you learned to love yourself the way she loved you. That kind of love stays with you, Jungkook, it doesn’t break you. And I think you always knew that.”

It was your strength, your unyielding belief in what Jungkook could accomplish, in your understanding and patience and acceptance of everything he was and wasn’t. That was how you loved him.

He thinks about all the sacrifices you made for him and now your son, how you’d constantly put both of them above your own needs, how it must’ve been hard fighting through everything all these years for someone more important.

He thinks of how you deserve nothing less than the kind of love that heals, that doesn’t waver, that doesn’t break. And just as he wants to be good enough for Jungwon, he realizes that he wants to be good enough for you, too.

Yoongi understands the silence, knows that he’s getting his point across. He understands the priority is Jungwon for both you and Jungkook, but Yoongi also knows that you can’t deprive yourselves of the love that’s clearly still there.

“I know she always gave you shit for calling her your light and all, but I get it. The moon, the stars - they don’t go away. They’re just there, even if you don’t see them. They don’t ever leave,” Yoongi continues. “It was never over for you. I think you were always gonna come back.”

Jungkook smiles, letting the silence say the things he’s not ready to, and Yoongi knows this.

“You really know so much, huh?” Jungkook laughs.

“Nah, I learn a lot from you all. It’s how I’m able to put out good songs, so thanks for your interesting lives.”

“We need a cut for being your muses, then.”

“It’ll come, kid. It’ll come.”

The two men laugh and look around, assessing the proper time to wish Jimin good luck before they head to their seats, but the woman catches Yoongi’s eyes again.

“What do you think?” He asks. “You think I’ll be able to write songs about her?”

He gets no reply.

“Kook?”

The older man looks at Jungkook who’s currently slack jawed at the sight of you. Dressed in a burgundy off-shoulder dress, you walk in the hallway, with Taehyung in tow as your date, and you look absolutely stunning.

Jungkook’s eyes follow you as you walk down the hallway, greeting Namjoon and Ara who are standing nearby.

“Wipe your drool before she gets here,” Hoseok, who’s now appeared next to him, says, laughing at the younger man who’s clearly taken by you. “Seriously, Kook. I actually mean it, you’re drooling,” proceeding to get this own handkerchief to wipe the corners of Jungkook’s mouth.

“Kid’s got it bad, I told you,” Yoongi laughs.

Jungkook clears his throat and fixes his posture, ensures his expression isn’t one that makes him too transparent.

You finally make it to where the three men are standing and you smile at him but proceed to hug Hoseok, who introduces you to his date - a fellow choreographer at the dance studio he manages - and Yoongi.

“Hi,” you greet Jungkook.

“Hi,” he stammers, causing all men present, including Taehyung, to laugh.

“You act like you didn’t date and that you don’t have a son together. You can hug, you know? No one’s gonna tease you both,” Yoongi says.

You flush at his statement but Jungkook punches his arm. Yoongi winces in pain and Taehyung massages the flesh that’s definitely gonna bruise.

Hoseok gently nudges Jungkook, causing him to inch closer to you and the younger man has no choice but to give in to them; it’s just gonna be more awkward if he doesn’t.

So he leans in, gingerly wraps his arms around you, his hands patting your upper back, then quickly moves away, even before you get to return his hug. It’s okay, though, you think. You know you could easily fall into him if it lasted longer. Just a trace of his bergamot and jasmine scent - his favorite, is enough to spiral you into a hurricane of emotions.

You play it off and he giggles, asks how Jungwon is doing with your mother, who’d come over today to babysit so you could spend time with your friends.

“Mom’s probably gonna have him sit through her cooking shows the entire night,” you laugh.

Jungwon loves his grandmother, a constant figure in his life whose voice he heard even before he was born. She used to soothe your stomach, caressing it and singing lullabies for the little one to hear, which is perhaps the reason why he’s developed such a strong bond with her.

Jimin finally comes out of the performers’ lounge, with Jin and his date and you turn to Jimin, who’s a little jittery. This is a usual sight as you’ve learned from the previous shows you’ve watched, which was really the only time you got to see the rest of the guys before.

“Jungwon wishes you good luck,” you say, handing him the card that Jungwon created.

“___, this is so adorable! Your son is wildly talented,” Jimin beams, eyes sparkling with joy.

From next to him, Jungkook clears his throat. “I helped him with that,” he simpers.

Jimin smacks his arm. “Are you a child? You can’t even give all the credit to your son?”

“Now, now, Jiminie. That’s not honesty,” Jungkook laughs, and everyone joins in, making sure to compliment Jungwon - and not Jungkook - and to help ease Jimin’s nerves. It seems to have worked, as he lets out a breath and thanks everyone.

He excuses himself, not before he gives a reminder about the after party at Jin’s bar. Everyone else proceeds to the main theatre for the show.

You sit in between Taehyung and Ara, the latter asking you about Jungwon. From the row behind you, Jungkook steals glances, admiring the way the lights cast a glow on you. You in your red lipstick and pretty necklace are mesmerizing, a signature look during formal events that he always loved.

You talk animatedly with Ara, and Jungkook can pick up a few of your words that refer to your recent trip to this activity center where he taught Jungwon how to ride a bike.

It feels different, hearing and watching you talk about your son and Jungkook knowing exactly what you mean. It sends a rush through his veins at the thought of how natural this all feels - you and him, out for the evening and Jungwon waiting for both his parents at home, and he smiles.

The show goes magnificently, Jimin performing flawlessly as always.

The group heads to Jin’s bar right after with the other performers and the crew, everyone betting that Yoongi won’t ask the woman out, that way they make sure that he actually will just to shut you all up.

It’s like college all over again, celebrating milestones and big events. The last time this happened, you were all celebrating Jungkook’s signing to the minor league, everyone dancing and partying like there was no tomorrow. It had been a fun night then, you and Jungkook grinding on the dance floor, a little celebration in itself because you disliked public displays of affection.

Jungkook was the kind of boyfriend who enjoyed having his arms around your waist, whispering silly things sexily in your ears. He liked pecking your cheeks and your neck, which always earned him the deathly tiny pinches from you because he liked teasing you too much.

That night, though, in his ripped black jeans and half unbuttoned black polo, he looked too sexy for you not to give in. You pulled him by his belt holes then, let him guide your hips against his as you both swayed to the music, his hand slowly inching down your ass. He wasn’t whispering silly shit then, his eyes just gazing at you lustfully.

It’s a familiar feeling because right now feels like that night, as you eye his toned and alluring form from afar, dressed in - yep, all black. You squeeze your thighs, Ara’s words fading in the background, until a thought crosses your mind.

Was that the night Jungwon was conceived?

You choke on the champagne you’re drinking, mind wandering to that night that oddly plays so vividly in your head. You stop yourself before the scene reaches the part where you both stumble in his apartment and undress each other and—

“You need some water?”

You peer at the doe eyes curiously looking at you.

“You were choking. Forgot how to drink alcohol?” Jungkook teases.

“No I just… remembered something,” you fake laugh.

“Mind sharing?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Not. No. I mean definitely no,” you stammer, and he chuckles at this.

He calls a server and asks for water then turns back to you, who’s now yawning.

“Not your scene anymore, huh?” He asks.

“I’m too old for this,” you state in between another yawn. “Having a child makes me feel like I aged 10 years.”

He laughs, neither one of you now minding a comment that he can’t really relate to.

“I can take you home if you want,” he suggests, clearly oblivious to the tornado of thoughts caused by your own reminiscing that’s still wreaking havoc in your mind.

You want to decline but seeing Taehyung talking to the woman who’s been frequenting the art studio he works at, looking so comfortable and happy, makes you consider Jungkook’s offer, certain there won’t be any stumbling and undressing happening at your apartment where the (probable) product of that night is currently sleeping. Plus your mother. Yes, your mother is home. You have to remind yourself of that.

“Turning me down again?” He teases, another one of those comments that neither of you gets affected by.

“No,” you smile, giving in. “Tae wouldn’t even have stayed tonight if it wasn’t for that woman so we can go, as long as you plan on going home, too?”

“I am,” he says, yawning. “I’m too old for this,” that signature smirk of his appearing.

You nod and you both proceed to wish everyone goodnight, who are all too drunk to make any comments and you’re at least thankful for that.

Namjoon makes Jungkook walk in a straight line for a sobriety test, the younger man passing, and your brother lets you both go, reminding you to ensure your mother is ready on time the next morning for him to drive.

The car ride is surprisingly filled with laughter. Jungkook has taken to telling jokes, which is a better excuse to look at you than to stay silent and look creepy. You take to laughing and gossiping too, talking about some college schoolmates and what they’ve been up to recently, at least the ones you’ve heard from Taehyung, and you’re sober enough not to skirt around college stories about both of you.

Jungkook is quick to pull open the door for you once you arrive home, his hand gingerly placed on your shoulder as he guides you to your front door.

“Oh, ___,” he says as you pull out your keys. “Our opening game is in two weeks and it would really mean the world to me if you and Jungwon can be there.” His hand scratches the back of his neck, clear nervousness on his face.

“Of course, Jungkook! That would be great. Jungwon will be so excited,” you say, beaming now, as you imagine the look on your son’s face when he enters the stadium and sees his Cookie Monster playing on the field.

“You think he’d enjoy watching? I mean, we play catch but like, it’s a real game and it might be too loud for him or maybe too bright, and shit, he might get hit by the ball or something so maybe I can—“

“Jungkook, he’ll be fine,” you cut him off. You’ve never seen him so anxious but you guess the protective father in him is coming out.

“As long you’re sure,” he says nervously. “Plus, I don’t want to force him to enjoy it if he doesn’t.”

“He will. Because he’s seen you play before, he just didn’t know it was you,” you state, causing his eyes to widen.

“He… he’s seen me play before?”

You nod playfully. “Jersey number 7… Color blue or grey uniform,” you utter. “We would, uh. We would watch your games on TV and he would be amused with the lights,” you smile shyly, looking back on those days you’d have the Dodgers games on.

“He likes it when the ball flies high so don’t worry, he’ll definitely enjoy it.”

Jungkook holds your gaze, a look of gratitude on his face, given that you’d made sure all these years that he was a part of Jungwon’s life without your child even knowing it was his father he was watching.

“Okay, good,” he says, clearing his throat to hold back his tears. “I’ll make sure you both get safe seats, and then I’ll—“

“Jungkook sweetie, is that you?” Says a familiar voice from behind you.

She opens the door wider and she looks just as Jungkook remembers.

“Auntie,” he says as he’s engulfed in a hug, one he’s also missed so much.

“It’s so good to see you,” your mother whispers to him, taking in the form of the man who used to shower her with hugs. He used to be the one to envelop her with his large arms but now, she’s the one to do it, holding him tight because somehow she knows that Jungkook needs it.

He pulls away before he gets even more emotional. “You haven’t changed one bit, Auntie. Still so beautiful like I remember,” he says in a sing-song tone the way he used to.

“And you’re still a charmer, aren’t you?” She laughs.

“Not much has changed,” he smiles.

“Jungwon didn’t trouble you tonight, Mom?” You chime in.

“No, but he was looking for you,” she tells you, then turns to Jungkook. “And you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, he seems to do that quite a lot,” you respond.

Jungkook bites his lower lip to control the smile on his face, and you internally gush at how he looks. He’s happy that he’s really made an impact on Jungwon, going as far looking for him now, which is a really good sign.

You and your mother let Jungkook bask in the thought, but you speak before you’re the one who starts to get emotional.

“So, uh, thanks for taking me home, Jungkook. You should get some rest, too. I’m sure training has been tough,” you say.

“Yeah, but uh, I’ll make sure to still see you both this week, alright? But definitely Saturday. Please tell him, I don’t want him to forget me,” he pleads.

“He won’t,” you laugh. “He’ll understand once I tell him that we’ll be watching you.”

“Okay,” he says, taking you in one last time tonight before he heads home, heart so full, he could burst into tears. And he does.

Jungkook does only get to make it for your Saturday play date, a late afternoon visit to your apartment. He’s been apologetic the whole week, worried that Jungwon has indeed forgotten him. You appeased the older man by calling him in the middle of the week and putting the little one on the phone, the two engaging in conversation that makes your heart balloon into size.

“Okay, bye Cookie!” Your son had said, not even giving you the phone back.

Recalling it suddenly made you feel like a third wheeler in this relationship, but that thought dissipates as you open the box that Jungkook’s given you, a pair of Doosan Bears jerseys folded inside.

Jungwon’s eyes go wide as he grabs the white one for him. “Mama, mama! Look! It’s for me!” He squeals, hugging the piece of clothing with an adorable smile on his face.

Jungkook melts at this, and even more when he places the navy blue baseball cap on the little one’s head. Jungwon looks just like his father when he was 4, the same age when Jungkook fell in love with the sport.

“So uh, there’s one for you, too in case you uh, you want to wear it,” Jungkook stammers, nervous at how you’ll take it, considering the only times you ever wore his jersey in public were during his championship games, all three of them, and he had to beg you to.

“It doesn’t have my name or anything, so don’t worry,” he continues, regretting it immediately as you cock your eyebrow because of course, why should he give you one that has his name on it?

“You’re so cheesy,” you say, but he doesn’t miss the smile you try to suppress.

“So you’ll wear it?”

“I’ll think about it,” you playfully respond.

“So you did wear it,” Jungkook nudges your shoulder as he stands up after greeting Jungwon.

“Hmm, it was last minute, though. I was wearing something else but this little one kept shoving this to my face,” you say, which wasn’t a complete lie.

Jungwon gave you the jersey after you helped him wear his own without much fanfare. No one has to know that you stared at yourself with it on for a while before you put a sweater over it, reminiscing only a little bit at how it used to feel like. You may have worn his jerseys to games only a handful of times but you loved wearing them around his apartment with nothing but underwear on.

Jungkook just laughs at you but melts at the sight of you either way, two special people in his life now here at his game, wearing his team’s jersey.

He, on the other hand, is a sight to behold, and those player banners in the main entrance, which Jungwon squealed over, do not do him justice. Jungkook in an all-white ensemble - short sleeves showing off his immaculate veiny arms and snug pants hugging him in the right places and emphasizing his long legs - just does things to you.

Your throat feels dry and you try not to look down but anywhere else in his face and body will just make you flustered either way so you excuse yourself and drag Taehyung to go with you to your seats, leaving Jungkook to deal with the rest of the guys instead.

This stadium feels like an old friend, given that you all had gone to watch several games here in the past. Jungwon, on the other hand, is in awe of everything he sees, wide eyes and o-shaped lips a constant to him in just the past hour that you’ve been here. You already know pretty soon he’s gonna start covering his ears so you ready the ear muffs and his other toys just in case.

The players arrive on the field and the cheers get louder when Jungkook is introduced. Jungwon squeals and you try to hush him so as not to garner attention. Jungkook is no huge celebrity here but he’s still an athlete who’s known enough.

You already spotted a few posts on social media about seeing the three of you together, with speculations about your relationship but Jungkook had advised you to pay them no mind. People don’t make that much of a fuss about athletes’ personal lives here, unlike in the US, so you try not to worry too much and just lay low. Although Jungwon screaming out “Cookie Monster” might also not be the best way to lay low every time the man with jersey number 6 and Jeon at the back goes out to bat.

The game is a blowout, with Jungkook making the final catch of the ball out on the right field for the opposing team’s final out at just the first half of the 9th inning.

Your group of friends all quietly cheer, especially when Jungkook looks to where you’re all seated, a sleeping Jungwon’s arms wrapped around your neck. It’s why you leave immediately with Taehyung and ask the guys to just let Jungkook know that you’ve gone home.

It’s definitely been a tiring day, between doing chores in the morning and spending the whole afternoon at the game, and you just want to rest. Jungwon, however, who was asleep for 5 innings, still has so much energy, asking you to act as a customer as he serves food to you, Mr. Choochoo, Ms. Monkeypants, and Ms. Bear-bear. He’s been asking for Jungkook, too, something you mentioned when he called and asked if you got home alright.

You’re about to eat the strawberry cake that’s just been served when the bell rings. A freshly showered Jungkook stands by your door as you open it. You didn’t expect him to come so soon and right after the game, knowing that the guys would be at Jin’s bar to celebrate.

He smiles at you, like something unspoken now, his desire to be close to his son growing day-by-day. You can feel it whenever Jungkook is around Jungwon, like he just wants to hold him and tell him how much he cares about him.

Jungkook calls for the little one, who runs towards him and tells him “good job,” which is what you told Jungwon he can say since his Cookie Monster won the game.

“Hey buddy, I got something for you,” Jungkook says as he kneels down then hands him the ball that he caught that made him win the game. “I won today and it’s because you were there to watch me.”

Jungwon’s wide eyes and o-shaped mouth make another appearance, as he takes the ball in his hands and cradles it, like he does with anything that’s given to him. He smiles and hugs Jungkook, something he’s done several times already.

But this hits differently for Jungkook. And much as he wants to just hug him tightly and tell him just how much he loves him, Jungkook knows he needs to be patient.

You’re all on the couch, Jungwon now on Jungkook’s lap, head on his chest as he starts to doze off. You managed to convince the little one to keep the baseball on the shelf because he might hurt someone and he agreed, falling limp on Jungkook’s body, who placed his hands softly on the little boy’s back.

Jungwon’s hand makes it to Jungkook’s earlobe, massaging it with his tiny hands. It’s a quirk he has when he sleeps, a therapeutic act that he does to you every night. It’s also something that he got from you.

Jungkook melts at this, remembers all the times he had you flick and massage his earlobes as you fell asleep next to him. It’s a comforting thought, especially at the sound of the little one’s steady breathing, indicating his now restful state.

You sit on the edge of the couch, watching Jungkook with half-lidded eyes and a gentle smile, basking in such a heartwarming scene. It feels so intimate, the three of you like this, the soft pitter-patter of the rain serving as the appropriate background to such a tender moment of a family that’s almost, possibly there.

“Do you think he’ll ask you again soon?” Jungkook questions, and you feel the desperation in his strained voice. “I just want him so badly.”

“I think it’ll be soon, Jungkook. He’ll come around,” you smile, hoping in your heart you’re not giving him false hope.

It’s five days later when you pick up a cheerful Jungwon from daycare, happy because he finally got to color Mr. Choochoo at school. He loves all animals but he has a special place in his heart for his elephant stuffed toy, a giant creature but a gentle one.

You let him point out the colors he chose - mostly blue, like his toy.

“And I drew us, too, Mama! Because Mr. Choochoo is family,” he explains.

“That’s nice, sweetcheeks. Can you show me?”

“Here is me,” he points to the little one, with what looks like a blue cap on his head.

“And that’s you!” In a yellow top, like what you’re wearing now.

Your heart skips a beat at the drawing of another figure next to him, a man, in a blue cap too.

“Who’s that, sweetcheeks? The other man you drew?”

“That’s Cookie, Mama,” he says.

“You said this was for family? Why is he here?” You ask. You need to be sure. It has to come from him.

You repeat the question as Jungwon continues to stare at his drawing.

He says it in whisper, as if it’s a wish he’s shy to even be making, but you hear him either way.

“I wish Cookie was my Papa.”

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jksource #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #parents au #exes au #baseball player jk #inevitable #series

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asmo-ds · 3 years

Note

Ok so you made a list on they guys toxic traits. How would they react if the MC just snaped one day and broke out into sob because of what they did and say to them and the MC calls them out on it pointed put how Diavolo doesn't do or say the shit they do and hes full blood demon unlike them all in a croaked voice from crying so hard

React to MC Calling Them Out on Their Toxicity

Obey Me Brothers x MC angst HCs

Warnings: Yelling, toxic relationships, breakdowns, violence, Mammon being the guardian he was assigned to be :)

Summary: When MC finally breaks down and calls them out on their toxic behavior towards the human the boys finally realize just how different human emotions are from the creatures in hell they’ve grown so accustomed to.

I’m putting the contents of the original post this ask referred to under each of the characters to make it clearer for those who have not seen it

i know Lucifer is hot sexy big sex dominant professional daddy master man BUT please remember he shows his love via punishment and cruelty towards his family

- Lucifer was in the middle of hanging a crying Mammon upside down when it happened.

- “He’s in pain Lucifer, you should let him down! There are better ways to handle this,” MC had suggested only to be met with a low growl followed by:

- “Stay out of this, human, you are here to attend RAD and nothing else. Do not butt into our personal business.”

- He could practically feel MC’s upset expression as he continued to tie the knots around Mammon’s body

- “I’m a human, correct,” MC starts and he’s startled by their cold voice, “but what makes me human is my inability to stand by while someone I know is in so much pain!”

- Lucifer is a bit taken back by their boldness and is in his demon form holding them up by the throat in seconds.

- “Who the Hell do you think you are?!” He snarled, tightening his grip and pushing their struggling body against the wall harshly, causing their head to bounce off the wall with a loud thump, blood slowly beginning to trickle from the sight of the impact

- He could barely hear Mammon’s frantic cries for him to let go of the human as his adrenaline rushed, unable to believe that the human had actually spoken to him like that,

- He was suddenly ripped away from MC, thrown across the room and he looked up to see Diavolo had come

- “I had some paperwork I wanted to give you but instead walked in on you taking advantage of your strength over someone smaller than you, you’re pathetic,” Diavolo snarled, disgusted by Lucifer’s actions

- MC wailed and threw themselves against Diavolo, him tightly embracing them and trying to soothe them

- “Y-y-you’re the Lord of Demons and yet,” they sniffled and hiccupped into Diavolo’s chest as he continued to glare at Lucifer, who could only watch on in despair as he realized what he had done, “and yet you a-are so mu-uch kinder than them, th-thank you Diavolo!”

- “Wait, MC! I’m sorry!” Lucifer began to stand before realizing Mammon had managed to escape and was now holding him down, preventing him form moving toward the trembling human.

- “Lucifer... I don’t want to see you ever again!” MC had cried as Diavolo and them left the house.

- After MC was brought to the demon lord’s castle he received word from Barbatos that he had been suspended from his duties until further notice per the request of Diavolo.

- Barbatos also collected MC’s stuff, moving it to the Demon Lord’s castle where they would spend the rest of the year

- Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to leave his room, afraid of his brothers’ judgmental looks, he refused to see how much he had hurt the family and the relationship with the human he’d done so much to care for in just a matter of thirty seconds.

- Lucifer never forgives himself for hurting MC, but he acts like he was in the right for the sake of his ego.

- But he really missed MC and was angry with himself for letting them go so easily and for not just accepting that maybe they were right and he could change for them

- Everyone notices a decrease in the cruelty he showed towards his brothers

- how did a human manage to stir up these feelings within him?

I know Mammon is an adorable tsundere with a chaotic streak BUT please remember he also insults MC in order to keep up his own self image of being a “tough demon” even if he loves MC underneath the mask

- Mammon had been on his way back from getting scolded for stealing from Lucifer’s wallet once again, when he ran into MC

- “Mammon! What’s wrong? Are you Okay?!” He hastily wiped the tears from his face, MC really cares about me... a blush rises to his cheeks at that thought

- “Nothin’ is wrong, mind yer business,” he shoves past them

- “but you’re clearly hurting, Mammon let me help!”

- “I don’t need help from a stupid human,” he says, not turning to look at them due to his still red cheeks as he continued to be flustered by their concern for him

- “Stupid human....” he heard MC say quietly back to themselves, his heart sinking as he realized he said it so harshly

- “Hold on-MC- I didn-” he starts but is frozen in shock as he sees the human glaring at the floor with tears streaming down their cheeks, biting their lips to keep sobs trapped inside themselves. “MC, hey liste-” He reaches out to touch their shoulder but they jerk away turning from him.

- “Not even the demon who is meant to be the cruelest of them all calls me names for wanting to help him,” their voice trembled and his heart broke, “I just wanted to help... why do you insist on insulting me?”

- MC ran away from him, leaving the house, passing Asmo and Satan as they left.

- Satan chased after MC as Asmodeus walked up to Mammon, slapping him across the face harshly, “why can’t you just be honest with them for once?! Don’t you realize how badly you’ve been hurting them because you refuse to be nice to stroke your own ‘bad boy’ ego?!”

- Mammon stared at the floor, tears rolling down his cheeks silently, “I-I didn’t mean to hurt them,”

- “But you did. Not to mention you never even apologize for it,” Asmodeus walks away, leaving Mammon to stand alone, shamefully hanging his head as he fell to his knees.

- The one person who ever cared about him and he did nothing but insult them and yet still expected them to love him? What a douchebag he was...

- Guess he was nothing but a greedy scumbag

i know Levi is a cute blushy otaku recluse that we all want to top BUT he also gets jealous very easily which leads to him often getting violent or guilt tripping MC by insulting himself until they feel guilty and stay with him to make him feel better despite their own wishes

- Leviathan had jus ordered a new game titled “I just landed in Hell, seven hot demon lords are my roommates and I’m trying really hard not to fuck them”

- He rushed towards MC’s room, desperate for them to play with him

- He walked in without knocking and saw MC cuddled up with Mammon and Beel, watching some movie that none of them seemed to actually pay attention to as they just horsed around.

- “Hey, MC! I just got a new game, come on let’s go play it!” he tried not to let his jealousy show.

- “Ah, maybe later Levi, I’m hanging out with Beel and Mammon right now!” MC smiles kindly, to which he grows a bit sad

- “I get it... who would want to hangout with a yucky otaku like me anyway...” he lowers his head pouting

- “Levi, just give me a few minutes to finish the movie!” MC says, still trying to be kind and patient

- “No you don’t have to... I’m just going to go play alone like the loser I am...”

- “DON’T” MC stands up, Beel and Mammon watching as MC walks up to Levi, thinking that the human was going to go with him and play

- Levi smiles thinking the same thing and gets ready to leave, but instead MC comes to him and glares at him, making his heart sink

- “You do NOT get to guilt trip me like that,” MC growls, “I told you I need a minute, I never said any of that stuff and I KNOW you were saying that stuff just to get me to come with you instead of staying here,” Levi blushes as MC calls him out, his heart beating rapidly with nerves as he realizes just how mad MC was at him

- MC pushes him out of their room, slamming the door and he hears them mumbling some angry stuff to the other two brothers behind the door

- Ashamed of himself he goes back to his room and locks himself there for a few weeks, kind of waiting for MC to come check on him and apologize, but then he realizes that is exactly why they are mad at him, so he decides to try and get his shit together

- But his anxiety gets in the way and he decides MC would be better off without him and he tries to avoid them no matter how much he craves their attention

i know Satan is an intelligent man who is trying his best to keep his anger in check at all times BUT if you are in a relationship where someone is getting mad at you constantly despite their efforts pls look out for yourself and let yourself be selfish and avoid the person no matter how bad it may hurt them because your own happiness should come first

- After a fight with Lucifer, Satan had gone to his room to blow off some steam

- He was storming around and throwing things and throwing a temper tantrum

- MC came to check on him and they knocked politely, calling his name and asking if they could come in

- Despite using their manners and being as respectful as possible; their interruption of his tantrum pissed him the hell off

- He swung the door open and pushed them down, eyeing them like a normal demon would; nothing but an innocent soul to munch on

- MC tried to escape but he caught their ankle, and dangled them like a rag doll as his claws sunk into the limb he held

- He could see their mouth moving and tears streaming down their face but he couldn’t process the words they were wailing

- He only stopped when Mammon punched him harshly, causing him to drop the human and go flying through the nearest wall, which happened to be Asmodeus’s, who was infuriated by the destruction of his room, but his focus immediately turned to Mammon and the trembling human he held

- Satan could barely hear or see much of anything anymore as Mammon’s punch had knocked him nearly out-cold

- Later when his senses came back he went to MC to apologize

- When he walked in they screamed and cowered in the corner.

- “MC, I won’t hurt you I promise-”

- “You always say that! You promised to never hurt me, Satan! All I wanted was to see if you wanted anything to help you calm down but you decided that was reason enough to try and eat my soul. For fuck’s sake, Diavolo is the Demon Lord and he isn’t half as cruel and manipulative as you are!” He watched the human tremble and cry their response out

- The loud noises had once again caught the attention of the humans guardian for their time in the Devildom

- Mammon walked in and grabbed Satan by the collar, dragging him out the door and slamming it behind him

- Satan sat against the wall and could hear how much pain MC was in as they cried to Mammon and he wanted nothing more than to run in there and take his place but he knew he had royally fucked up

- Scared of his own anger, he decided to not leave his room unless he was attending RAD, family meals, or the Library, because he was so afraid of making the human he had loved afraid and he didn’t want them to feel so much pain just by seeing him

i know Asmodeus is a cute feminine boy with a love for self care and pampering and fashion BUT he always be littles others for not being as good or pretty as him and is super gossipy

- MC had come to school after a sleepover with Asmo, where things got deep and emotional and MC’s most shameful secret was revealed to him

- and he said he wouldn’t tell anybody. he really wasn’t going to but...

- MC noticed the weird stares followed by giggles of the succubi at RAD, clearly whispering about MC which made their stomach feel sick

- MC wasn’t sure what the deal was today until a succubus came up to them at lunch,

- “hey human, i heard that *insert your most humiliating memory*” she snickers with her friends, watching mc turn pale

- Unable to form words MC bolted out of there

- Unluckily for Asmodeus, MC just do happened to run into him

- “Ah! MC, dear, be careful or you and I will both ends up bruised-“ he’s cut off by a slapping sound

- he’s in so much shock he doesn’t even realize MC had slapped him for a few seconds

- “I should’ve known better than to trust you with my secrets.” MC growled, turning around to storm off, “Guess I forgot you were a demon. No, demons are like Diavolo, they at least have some itty bit of kindness in their hearts. You. You’re a monster.”

- Asmo watched them storm off and felt tears come to his eyes

- They were right, for once he had someone who loved him for more than power, looks, and sex, and what did he do? He hurt them and destroyed their reputation.

- He eventually fell off of his skincare routine and stopped coming home every night, instead, he was too busy partying and passing out in strangers’ beds and being glad the demons and succubi who dances with him and slept with him didn’t care for his personality

- cuz he knew his personality was the one part of him that was ugly as hell and he hated it

i know Beelzebub is a gentle giant who cares for his entire family BUT he also throws tantrums that hurt people when he gets hungry and isn’t given food asap

- After his sports practice, he was starving and on edge

- He hungrily eyed a strangers’ meal as he and MC walked home from the campus

- “Beel, don’t even think about stealing that poor demon’s food,” MC scolded him, unknowingly lighting a fuse inside of him

- He shifted to his demon form and grabbed MC by the shoulders harshly

- “Well what else am I supposed to eat?! Do you want me to eat you?!” He shook them, making them whimper out in pain as his claws dug into their flesh

- “B-Beel, you’re hurting me!” MC cried out, but he was too hungry to care and leaned in, about to take a bite out of the poor human before he felt himself get pulled away and pin against the ground

- “Beelzebub, just what in the Devildom do you think you’re doing?” Lucifer’s chilling voice snarled at his younger brother, a crowd forming to watch the two demon lords fight

- “I’m HUNGRY!” Beelzebub went to strike Lucifer, but instead, MC being MC, grabbed his arm to try and stop him, causing him to fling them against the wall, them hitting it with a loud cracking sound, blood pouring out from the back of their head as they rubbed it

- Seeing them bleed made him more hungry but then he saw the look of despair and disappointment that he had seen on his younger sister so many years ago and he snapped out of it

- “MC!” Lucifer rushed to the human’s side, picking them up gently and giving Beel one last cold look before flying off quickly to the Demon Lord’s castle, where Barbatos would be able to heal MC

- Beelzebub felt his hunger dissipate, instead, the guilt eating away at him as the sight of MC’s despair filled eyes flashed through his head

- When MC returned later that night he went to apologize when he heard them in the kitchen

- “MC,” they flinched and whipped around, immediately using one hand to grip their head as dizziness struck them for a moment, the other hand out in front of them in a defensive manner

- Beel’s heart broke and he felt tears starting to form as he started to approach them, intending to hug them comfortingly

- “STAY RIGHT THERE!” MC yelled, their pact forcing his feet to stay planted where they were

- “Y-you don’t have to apologize okay? I should have known better than to scold a monster,” he winced at the word but let them continue, “But that said it isn’t entirely my fault. Every other demon in that plaza could smell me and didn’t pounce me, they had better control than that. Even when I go out alone nobody attacks me! Hell, even the Demon Lord himself isn’t cruel enough to attack me I-I just, please, stay away from me Beel,” and when they looked up he had tears streaming down his face and he was biting his lips to keep from crying

- As badly as they wanted to comfort the crying boy, they knew that they would be putting their own safety at risk if they were to forgive him and make him think he would be so easily forgiven

- Beelzebub suddenly started to stop feeling hungry as every time his stomach growled all he could see was the image of himself about to bite into MC and he would start to feel sick to his stomach

- He doesn’t forgive himself and gets really depressed because he thinks MC’s pain is his fault just like Lilith’s death

i know Belphegor is a sleepy baby with a love for pranks and mischief BUT he literally killed MC but as soon as he found out they were a descendant of his little sister he suddenly just flipped a switch and didn’t even really apologize

- MC was sleeping in the attic next to Belphegor, tossing and turning as a nightmare filled their head

- They could practically feel his claws wrapped around their frail neck snapping it and laughing as they faded from their body

- MC sat up panting and screaming, Belphegor waking up and rubbing his eyes sleepily as he wrapped his arms around MC

- “NO NO NO GET OFF OF ME STOP IT” they continued to scream, flailing around in his embrace, he refused to let go though, convinced they just needed a hug to comfort them from whatever had scared them so bad

- They began to sob hysterically, their voice screaming out for Mammon

- Panicking he continued to hold them in place, afraid if he let go they’d sprint off

- and he was right, they bit his arm and he pulled away as they stood up and sprinted down the hall

- “MC WAIT” he chased after them, worried they’d get hurt

- As they saw the door of their guardian (Mammon), they called out his name

- Belphegor placed a hand over their mouth, worried about the others waking up, but it was too late as Mammon and Satan had both been woken by the cries of the human

- “HELP ME MAMMON PLEASE” MC sobbed, Belphegor sending a panicked and hurt look to his brothers

- Mammon pushed Belphie away as he took MC back into his room to calm them down

- After a mini-argument with Satan that ended up getting shut down by Lucifer, he went back to bed

- The next morning he saw MC was sitting at the breakfast table and he smiled at them, only to watch them shoot a look to Mammon, who then pulled their chair closer to his own protectively

- They all ate in silence, the awkward and tense atmosphere keeping anybody from starting a conversation

- After everyone else left he went up to MC and cornered them, covering their mouth to keep them quiet so he could say what he needed to

- “I already apologized for everything so why do you still need to freak out whenever you see me?!” he asked, annoyed that despite his apology for killing MC, they still felt uncomfortable around him

- They slapped his hand away, “You didn’t really apologize. You only apologized because I’m a descendant of your dead sister, you didn’t apologize to me, MC, you apologized to Lilith,” MC shoves him and starts to walk away from the stunned demon

- “Its kind of funny that despite all the problems I’ve caused for his program, Diavolo has never tried to kill me.” MC says before finally making their exit

- Belphegor gets lost in his own thoughts after that, as he finally realized that he had been seeing them as a replacement Lilith rather than themselves

- even if he wanted to try apologizing again, he was unable to as Mammon became more and more protective of them, shooing Belphie away with dirty looks anytime they were in the same room

3K notes · View notes

buckys-black-dress · 3 years

Text

see through

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!

wc: 4.1k words

[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.

Notice how you said night?

Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.

And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?

(Great choice on your part, by the way.)

Well, because of your neighbor.

You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.

But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.

But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.

Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.

You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.

But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.

The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.

You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.

But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.

"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.

"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.

It was him.

"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,

"Keep the change."

"Thanks, and your name?"

He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'

"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.

"James."

That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.

As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.

You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.

"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."

"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.

"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.

"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.

"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.

You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.

"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.

He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.

For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.

Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.

"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.

"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.

"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.

"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.

"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.

He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.

"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.

You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.

"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.

As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.

(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The girl who works at this café is annoying.

But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.

He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.

But it was a nice gesture.

Why can't you just take a nice gesture?

Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.

He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.

You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.

Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.

Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.

He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.

But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.

He hates how lonely it gets, though.

Bucky wishes that he had someone.

Someone who could understand.

And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.

Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.

But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.

But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'

Or that's what his therapist says.

"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.

He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.

Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.

He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.

Who he was.

"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.

"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."

"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.

You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.

Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.

Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.

He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.

Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?

But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.

All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.

But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.

He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.

He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.

Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.

Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.

But there was no one.

And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.

Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.

But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.

For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.

For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.

There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.

Well, in your own apartment, of course.

And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.

As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.

He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.

(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.

After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.

He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.

But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.

Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.

You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.

You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.

As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.

The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.

You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.

You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.

You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.

You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.

You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.

"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.

"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.

You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.

He seems to have this issue quite often.

Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.

Well, nothing you did on purpose.

Nothing you were aware of at the time.

Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.

"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.

"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.

"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.

"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.

"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.

"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.

The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.

As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.

He was attractive, you'll admit.

Okay, he was more than attractive.

"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.

"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.

"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.

"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.

"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.

"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.

"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.

"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.

"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.

"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.

"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.

"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.

"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."

"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.

You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.

"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.

"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.

"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.

"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.

"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."

Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.

"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."

You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.

He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.

You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.

"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.

bonus scene:

six months later

You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.

"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.

"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.

"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.

"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."

Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.

"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.

"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.

"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."

You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.

"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.

"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.

A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.

You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.

"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.

"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.

"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.

"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.

"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."

fin. i hope you enjoyed!

#bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes reader insert #neighbor!bucky #bucky barnes au

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too-gay-for-marvel · 3 years

Text

just this once pt.8

a/n: this is it! the culmination of all the efforts and love y’all have shared for this story! but i have some good news for y’all that I’ll share in a few days, after most everyone has read the fic!

Words: 4,335

Warnings: one suicide joke, claustrophobia, thelassophobia (kind of?)

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

Durak - idiot Pizdec - fuck Ublyudok - bastard

(pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6.1 pt.6.2 pt.6.3 pt.7 pt.8)

Taglist: @daniescady @twilight-99-tm @333hhm @mika-kc @xxromanoffxx @izalesbean @diaryoflife @bebe404 @strangegardentaco @the-empty-chxld @lgtftchan @m-zne237 @wickedmuses @hopingforromanoff @noodlybees @llamame-papi @gottacamz @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday @santasbitch @when-wolves-howl @madamevirgo @ohfuckno @lenalex78 @mrvvl @alowint @killm3slowly @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo

Yelena’s POV

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Yelena asked yet again as she straightened your tie.

“It’s an engagement party,” you said with a raised brow. “They should’ve had this months ago.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Yelena shot back.

“I’ll be fine, mom,” you teased with a roll of your eyes.

Yelena frowned and slapped your chest, but otherwise dropped the subject. You had been toughing through everything for the past three weeks, and she was proud of you. Did she think you should go to the party tonight? No, not at all. But she had never been able to convince you of something once you had made up your mind.

“Cheeseburger, Roger, bedtime is at 8,” you shouted through the door. “And no ice cream!”

“Ma’am,” you said, holding your arm out for Yelena to take.

She rolled her eyes with a huff, but threaded her arm through yours anyway. Was she your official date? No, but she had to admit, you both looked damn good. You were rocking a red button up, white vest, and black tie, while Yelena showed off in a tight white dress. You would both turn heads for sure.

The party was in full swing by the time you both made it upstairs. Stark was never one to skimp on a party. Or booze. And for that, Yelena was grateful. If she was going to have to watch you live-action love triangle between you, Maria, and Nat, then she was going to need a lot of alcohol.

“Drink?” You asked, but before Yelena could answer you were already walking off to the bar.

She wasn’t surprised though; she had seen Natasha and Maria having drinks with Rhodey, Stark, and Miss Potts. Of course you would be heading to get a drink. Oh, if only someone had told you that you shouldn’t have come.

Oh wait. She did.

You came back with two drinks, one already half empty. Of course you gave her the one that was half empty, she shouldn’t have expected any real chivalry from you. But she took it graciously with a quiet “thanks” before raising her glass and the both of you downing them quickly.

“You’re miserable,” Yelena said as you both moved to the bar to sit down. If you were already there, it would be easier to get drinks.

“I think you mean insufferable,” you shrugged without looking at her. You were already trying to get a second drink.

“I know what I said,” Yelena huffed. “Don’t drink too much, either. I’m not dragging your scaly ass back downstairs.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just jump off the balcony. It’s faster that way,” you teased.

“That’s not funny,” Yelena said with a grumble. Those type of jokes weren’t new for you, but that didn’t mean Yelena had to like them.

“What if I evolved wings?” You asked with a raised brow before taking another large swig of your drink.

“That’s not how evolution works,” Yelena said.

It was small talk, nothing either of you really had anything meaningful to say. But sitting at the bar was the comfortable spot for the both of you, and that was worth it. Even before shit hit the fan, you had stayed by the bar. It was tough to start conversations with people you didn’t care for.

And Yelena understood that better than most.

“Think Cheeseburger and Roger will be okay?” You asked after a few more drinks. You weren’t drunk, but Yelena could tell you wanted to be.

“I’ll take care of them,” she said softly. “They’ll be okay.”

“Thank you,” you answered without looking at her.

Yelena’s heart ached at the thought of you leaving. She understood why you had to; it was too much at the Tower, and you had a new mission in life. There was no way she was going to try and talk you out of it. But that didn’t mean she was happy about.

But if you would be happier, then she would let you go with a smile.

Natasha’s POV

Natasha hated knowing that you were so miserable. She hated that you had shown up when you clearly hadn’t wanted to, but you had done it for her. When she had told Yelena about the party, she hadn’t thought you were nearby. Inviting you was never her intention because she knew it would just hurt.

But you had told her you would be there, and there you were. At the bar with Yelena, of course, but you were there. Downing more drinks than Natasha could count, and that worrisome in and of itself. All she wanted was for you to be happy, but she just seemed to make it worse.

“They’re coming over,” Maria whispered into her ear.

She looked up from her drink with a start and saw you finally standing up from the bar. You gave Yelena a kiss on the cheek, and a heat ran down Natasha’s spine. Don’t be jealous, she thought to herself, you have no right. But she was.

“May I have this dance?” You asked once you had gotten close.

“Be my guest,” Maria said with a smile, and Natasha took your outstretched hand and let you lead her to the makeshift dance floor.

It wasn’t necessarily a slow song, but you danced slowly anyway. Just that gentle sway that wasn’t really dancing, but everyone seemed to consider it acceptable. Natasha didn’t care, though. She just liked being close to you.

“You’ve got some good friends, Nat,” you said after a few moments of silence.

You were looking at the group of Avengers currently goofing off around the pool table. Thor, Steve, Bucky, and Sam were all playing, each one doing a worse job than the last. Wanda and Vision were standing to the side and watching while Pietro kept refilling their drinks without them noticing.

Tony, Bruce, and Rhodey had gathered around Maria and Clint and were striking up a conversation. And various other SHIELD agents were just enjoying the scene. Everyone was laughing, having fun, living the night like it was their last. A habit they had all adopted long ago.

“They’re alright,” she said with a smile, more to herself than you.

“You’d better be good to Maria,” you continued.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Natasha asked, looking up into your eyes.

“I would take her place if given half the chance,” you said, ignoring her question. “But since I can’t, you’d better treat her well.”

“I will,” she said softly.

“And no getting into sticky situations without backup,” you continued with a slight frown. “No more getting snowed into cabins with someone you’re lusting after.”

“You make it sound so sleezy,” Natasha huffed. “Where’s this coming from?”

You fell silent, looking back out over everyone in the room. There was a look on your face that Natasha couldn’t quite place. A look of resignation, maybe? She didn’t know, but it wasn’t the look she had hoped to see on your face.

“I’m leaving, Nat,” you finally said, looking back down at her.

“Leaving?” She asked. “When?”

“Tomorrow,” you shrugged. “Yelena’s getting custody of Cheeseburger and Roger.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Natasha asked, pulling away from you.

“It would hurt less.”

The lack of any sort of emotion in your eyes pained Natasha in a way she couldn’t put into words. You were going to leave her? And you hadn’t even planned on telling her? You were just going to leave with no warning, no notice, and hope she wouldn’t notice?

“Perfect timing, then,” she said.

“You asked,” you shrugged again, shoving your hands into your pockets.

“Yeah. I did,” Natasha said. “And I regret it.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Nat,” you said. “You asked. And I’m not going to stay somewhere I’m not wanted.”

“No one ever said you weren’t wanted,” Natasha shot back. “You’re wanted.”

“Not the way I want to be, Nat,” you argued. “Maybe you want me around, maybe Yelena does, maybe Maria and Wanda even tolerate me. But what else?”

“I’m not doing this here,” Natasha said, shaking her head.

“Either we do it here, or we don’t do it at all,” you said. “So make your choice, because after tonight I’m-”

“All hands on deck,” Nick’s voice came loud and clear through the room, and everyone fell silent instantly. “We’ve got a sinking sub, so rescue team, it’s your time to shine.”

“That’s my cue,” you said even though your jaw was clenched painfully tight as you looked at Fury.

“I’ll go with you,” Natasha said, but you held your hand up to stop her.

“It’s your engagement party, relax,” you shrugged. “Yelena can be my jumping partner.”

Natasha didn’t get a chance to argue with you before you were walking off, gesturing for Yelena to follow suit. She turned and gave Natasha a sympathetic smile and wave before following after you. And once again, Natasha was left to watch you walk away without her.

Yelena’s POV

Yelena hated taking you on rescue jumps. She was never the biggest fan of the water to begin with, but watching you dive out of the helicopter with no care in the world gave her chills. Very few things in life scared her more than that. And yet you did it and laughed at her when you came back up to the surface.

“Nearing the drop zone,” Yelena shouted through the mic. You didn’t say anything, just gave her a thumbs up, and Yelena rolled her eyes before focusing once again on where she was flying.

It only took another minute or so before she was hovering over the drop zone. The SHIELD ship wasn’t too far behind, with Natasha and Maria in the control room. They would be watching through the camera around your neck.

“Don’t be a hero,” Yelena yelled back to you.

“Keep the boys fat and happy,” you shouted back with a wink and a smile before diving headfirst into the water 30 feet below.

“Suka,” Yelena muttered to herself.

Between the time you had jumped into the water, and the time Yelena could land the copter on the ship, it was an anxiety filled silence. She had no way to contact you, no way to know if you were safe, at the sub, nothing. All she could do was wait, and Yelena hated waiting.

But she felt a little better when she got back to the control centre of the ship and saw your camera feed, noting that you were approaching the sub. How you were going to get everyone out, she had no idea. But she had faith in you.

“How do I get in?” You asked over the comms.

“There’s a hole near the top. You should be able to squeeze in, but it’ll be tight,” Maria answered.

You worked your way around the sub, looking for the opening she had specified. Maria was right; it would be very tight. They all watched with bated breath as you manoeuvred yourself into the crack, twisting and turning, pulling metal out of the way.

“I told you guys I’m claustrophobic,” you said once you had finally managed to squeeze through the small space.

It was weird to see you in a space with no water. Okay, the water was pouring in through the hole, but the sub was fairly dry, by all accounts. Normally you were submerged the entire time, so to see you walking around was unusual to Yelena.

You managed to find a group of men easily; they were all in the galley trying to figure out what to do. Maria had told you to direct them to the escape pods, and they went quickly and willingly. They told you there were a few groups left and where to find them, and then they were gone.

“What’s the anatomy of the sub, where should I go first?” You asked, but you were already heading down one of the halls.

“Did you just say “anatomy”?” Natasha asked.

“It’s a “layout,” durak,” Yelena shouted back.

“Shut up, I’m stressed and you know what I meant!” You shouted.

“What kind of idiot thinks “anatomy” is the right word?” Yelena continued.

“I just said I’m stressed, Belova, shut up!”

“It’s not a living thing,” Yelena kept up. You were so stupid sometimes.

“Yelena enough,” Maria said, “go down the stairs to the living quarters.”

“Who taught you how to talk?” Yelena refused to give up this topic up. This was pure gold. “Or are you just stupid all on your own?”

“Yelena,” Natasha huffed.

“How about next time you dive into the sinking submarine. Then we’ll see if you get your words right,” you continued as you jumped down the stairs, landing with a hard “thud.”

“Of course I will, I have more than one brain cell,” Yelena taunted.

“Enough, the both of you,” Maria shouted.

“Sorry Maria,” you both said like scolded little children.

Y/N’s POV

You went through the living quarters methodically, checking each room on both sides until you came to the flooded section at the bottom. The sirens were really starting to hurt your ears, but you could tough through it until you got everyone out.

The water was up to your knees when you threw one of the doors open, revealing four men; one of which had a bone sticking out of the skin on his leg. As far as you could tell, the other three men were uninjured. At least on the outside.

“You’re SHIELD?” One of the uninjured men asked.

“Yeah, we’re getting you out,” you said with a nod. “Need help carrying him?”

“Yeah. Water’s too high. Know where the escape pods are?” Another asked. You said no, but they could lead you in the right direction.

You sloshed through the water and picked the injured man up bridal style, being careful not to hit his leg on anything. It was a long trip, and by the time you had finished winding through the corridors to the escape pods, the water was up to your mid-thighs.

“Can we seal this section off?” You asked as you set the man in a seat. “Keep the pods secure while I get everyone else out?”

“It can be sealed, but not for long,” the injured man said softly. “If the pressure gets to be too much on the other side, the whole thing will implode.”

“Then I’ll be quick. Can the rest of the men fit in the last pod?” You asked. They nodded. “Get going, the second pod will be up after you before long.”

They got settled as you closed the hatch, and the pod was ejected before you had made it to the stairs. Maria directed you up to the engines, which should hopefully lead you to the last of the men. And then you could get the hell out of there and finish what you had started.

The engine room was flooding by the time you got there. Even though there was no fear of you drowning, the fear still crept up in the back of your head. Just knowing that you were watching the water rise as the pressure in the sub increased was more than you could fathom.

And unlike the other agents, you could breathe underwater.

“You all need to get to the escape pods,” you shouted.

“We’re missing someone,” one of the men said as the others made their way down.

“Where is he?” You asked. He needed to hurry or none of them would get out.

“With the missiles,” he said quickly. “He’s disabling them so they don’t blow.”

Brave man, you thought.

“Get going, don’t leave until he gets there. I’ll radio you if we won’t make it,” you said. The man nodded and ran off after the others, shouting “we’ll drown in 10 minutes!”

“Maria, missiles lower down?” You asked as you started moving again.

“Lowest level,” she said.

You darted through the halls, down the stairs, splashing through the now-waist high water. If it was up to your waist then you needed to hurry, because most of these men would drown soon. That was something you weren’t going to let happen. No one died in a cage; not even humans.

The echoing of a scream got your attention, and you ran in the direction it came from. You had to ask the man to scream again once, twice, three times before you found him. He was stuck under a piece of equipment with the water rapidly approaching his head.

“Don’t let me die here,” he said quickly, eyes wide with fear.

“No one is dying today,” you answered, making sure to make eye contact so he knew you were serious. He nodded once.

You moved around, looking for any way to get the giant piece of equipment off of the man, but to no avail. Would you be able to lift it if you tried? Who knew, but by god were you gonna try. You positioned yourself under the equipment, your shoulder situated perfectly to left up.

“If this moves, it’ll hurt,” you warned him as you got ready. “Scream if you need to.”

“Thanks for the warning,” he said with a groan. You didn’t think he was really thankful.

“One,” you said, fixing your hands.

“Two,” you continued, bracing your feet against something solid.

“Three,” you finished, pushing up with all the strength you had in your body.

The piece moved slightly, and the man did indeed scream from the release of pressure. But you weren’t making enough progress, he couldn’t move. You were going to have to put all the weight back on him or risk dropping it and crushing it.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“Worth a try,” he said back, but there was a deeper pain in his voice. “The pods need to leave, there’s not time.”

“There’s time,” you said, leaving no room for argument. “Right?” You whispered.

“You’ve got five minutes,” Maria’s voice came in.

Five minutes. Easy.

“Stay right here,” you said as you walked off to find something, anything to help lift the equipment. “And try not to drown.”

“Where else could he go?” Yelena asked. “It’s not like he can head out for a smoke.”

“Shut up, I’m nervous,” you shot back.

There was nothing you could use to slide the man out from under the piece of equipment. Nothing that would provide enough leverage to make a difference. You couldn’t just try to lift it again, it wasn’t going to work, what if-

Of course.

You ran back to the man and told him to hold his breath when he started to slip. He gave you a confused look, but nodded anyway. You slipped under the water that was dangerously close to the man’s face and found the bottom of the piece of equipment.

Here goes nothing, you thought as you positioned yourself underneath the very bottom of the equipment. It was going to be tight and quick, but it could work. Squeezing underneath the equipment was tough, and you could feel the different edges digging into your back, but if you could push up with your arms and legs then maybe, just maybe, it would work.

“Be careful,” Natasha’s voice came in over the comms.

You didn’t count down this time, there was no point. Instead you just braced yourself and pushed up. The pain in your back indicated that something was starting to slice you open, but you didn’t stop. A stinging sensation in your hands and legs continued to build, but the equipment started to move.

The man slipped out from under the equipment, and once you could see that he was completely out of reach, you let the equipment drop. You grabbed the man under the arms and pulled him up so he could breathe. His entire side was slick with blood and limp, but you could work with that.

“Told you no one was dying,” you told him as you started making your way down to the escape pod.

“90 seconds,” Maria said.

Shit.

“Escape pod, we’re on our way, don’t eject,” you said into your comms.

“Better hurry, Agent, we’re sinking,” one of the men said.

I know, you thought to yourself as you started pushing the pace. The man was barely conscious by the time you got back to the escape pod. And much to your dismay, the men were right; the hatch was barely above the water.

“Come on,” you said as you finished carrying the man. The men inside opened the hatch and helped carry him in.

“Get going, now,” you said. The men didn’t argue with you, instead just thanking you and closing the hatch.

They ejected the last pod, and you were left alone.

Yelena’s POV

“Pod is clear,” you said, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“Time to get your ass back on the ship,” Natasha said, not giving anyone else any time to talk.

It broke Yelena’s heart to see Natasha so worried about you. She knew she couldn’t choose, for one reason or another. Deep down, Natasha just didn’t want to hurt anybody; she just didn’t know that that was what was actually hurting anybody. If only she could just let herself feel and accept those feelings.

“No can do, Romanoff, these pumps are gonna blow when they’re submerged,” you said.

“I thought the whole reason that agent got trapped was so they wouldn’t blow,” Yelena argued.

“Looks like it fell on him a bit too early,” you continued.

“Pizdec,” Yelena mumbled to herself.

“Just let it blow,” Maria said. Her brows were furrowed and Yelena could see the indecision on her face.

“Can’t, the pods won’t be far enough away.”

“Just get out,” Natasha yelled, “they’ll be far enough away.”

“Not letting them die, Nat,” you argued.

The sub was sinking, and you were either going to die, or stop the explosion. Yelena couldn’t tell what she thought would be more merciful. She knew you couldn’t drown, but what if you got stuck? What if you couldn’t get out and the sub just continued to sink until it either hit ground, or imploded?

“I’ll tell you when the pods are clear,” Maria said. “Pull up the trackers,” she ordered the agents in the room.

They moved fast, and two little green blips appeared on the radar. You were right; they weren’t far enough away. Given the potential blast radius, they needed at least another two minutes before they were far enough away to handle potential shock waves.

“Don’t forget Cheeseburger and Roger have bedtimes now,” you said. Your cam showed that the water was now up to your neck.

“You can tell them yourself tonight,” Natasha said.

“Not if this blows,” you said. It sounded like you weren’t expecting to come back.

Of course.

“Pods are clear of the blast radius,” Maria said.

“Perfect,” you said, and you started running down the hall. You were heading to the escape pod hatches. “Gives me a bit of time, if I hurry.”

“You’ve got 75 seconds by the time you get out of the hatch,” Maria continued. She looked like she had given up.

Yelena didn’t blame her.

“Get out and swim directly up,” Natasha said, basically taking over Maria’s spot at the control centre.

“It’s not sending me to the surface, Nat,” you said.

“But the sub is sinking, while you swim up. Creates more distance,” Natasha continued.

“I’ll try, but I won’t make the distance,” you said. You had finally reached the hatch. It took you only seconds to get out and start swimming.

“You’ll make it,” Natasha said. “Just keep swimming.”

You didn’t say anything; you just swam as fast as your arms and legs would take you. It was truly impressive, but that didn’t mean you were going to get out in time. And if Yelena was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure you wanted to get away in time.

“15 seconds,” Maria said. You weren’t even close.

“Y/N,” Natasha said. Everyone could hear the unshed tears in her voice.

“Take care of the boys,” you said. “And thank you.”

“Y/N I-”

Your camera went dark, and the control centre went silent. No one said a word, no one moved; they all just glued their eyes to Natasha. She was leaning over the console, staring at the black screen you had left behind. Yelena could see a single tear fall down her cheek.

The two escape pods surfaced only three minutes after the explosion. None of the men would ever forget you.

Five Weeks Later

“I told you no ice cream,” Yelena said as she slapped one of Cheeseburger’s tentacles away from her bowl. He had gotten greedy, especially during movie nights.

She had practically moved into your suite after the rescue mission. Your things were still sitting exactly where you had left them; she had only really moved the dishes. It wasn’t the same without you there, but she was making it work.

Especially since Natasha had started going on mission after mission and insanely intricate wedding planning just to distract herself.

The notification sound on her phone went off, but she didn’t even look. If anyone really needed her, they would come get her. Or they would call, she would refuse to answer, and then text them to ask what they wanted. On top of that, everyone knew not to bother her on movie night. That was strictly for her and the boys.

But Roger handed her the phone anyway, and she supposed that she might as well read it.

Unknown Number 22:17 Wedding updates? ;)

Yelena looked at the message as a smile slowly crept onto her face and she started typing back.

22:18 Ublyudok :(

She set the phone back down on the couch and looked at Roger and Cheeseburger with a smile.

Suddenly the suite didn’t feel so empty anymore.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #marvel #my writing

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

An Ocean Away - Harry Styles

Sequel to Tastes Like Strawberries 🍓 !

a/n: ahhh! thank you so much for the love you showed TLS! i already had more planned for the story, but all your comments motivated me to do this part 2! it’s an emotional one so brace yourselves! further in the chapter i placed the song that inspired the title and i listened to it while writing so i suggest you do the same!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 12.7k

masterlist

You walk down the familiar hallway texting back Eden that you are not spending the night at home again.

Eden: You really need to tell me about the dick that keeps you so busy these days.

Y/N: I never said a thing about any dick.

Eden: Oh please, you surely got yourself a rebound after Harry, you can’t tell me otherwise.

Y/N: Don’t you get a rebound when you broke up with someone? I was never together with Harry, so it doesn’t make sense.

Eden: You had a thing!! Okay, whatever. Keep your little secrets, I guess it’s fine…

Y/N: Love you!

Chuckling to yourself you put the phone away and stop at the door you know all too well, knocking two times before you open it and poke your head inside.

Harry is sitting at his desk, his reading glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he is vigorously scribbling something down into his notebook. He lifts his head at your arrival and you shut the door closed behind you.

“Hello, professor,” you smile at him teasingly, walking around his desk as he pushes himself back a little so you can sit on his lap, pecking his lips gently.

“Hey, done for the day?” he asks, his fingers tenderly stroking your thighs over the fabric of your jeans.

“Yeah. We can leave if you’re done,” you nod.

“Just a few more minutes, alright?”

“Sure,” you nod, standing up from his lap so he can finish his work while you sit on the little loveseat he has in the corner, right under the window.

It’s been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, the new semester has officially started, you’re working your way towards your degree as this is officially your last semester, but what’s more important that you and Harry have been a couple for six weeks following the heated actions of New Year’s Eve.

Harry is still quite anxious about the whole thing, always on high alert and he even asked you to lie to Eden and Nat too. You tried to fight him on that, but you could tell how much he wanted to protect what you had so you decided to feed them this elaborate story about how you and Harry had a fight on New Year’s Eve and realized that it would have never worked out so you agreed to stay just friends. It seems like they believed, because they’ve been keen on trying to set you up with someone while you just keep dodging their attempts, sneaking around with Harry behind their back.

Other than the continuous lying and sneaking around, things have been going well with him. You’ve been spending a lot of time at his place, the only hiding spot where you can be carefree around each other without always watching out for others around you.

Today is Valentine’s day and though your opportunities to celebrate are very slim, having anything that’s slightly public crossed out of the list, that still doesn’t stop the two of you from having a good night in.

You watch him curiously as he is reading the lines of someone’s essay probably, or some test, whatever. Holding the pen ready to use whenever he finds something incorrect, he furrows his eyebrows at something before crossing out a line, mouthing the words he writes to the side of the page. He doesn’t wear his glasses that often, but he’s been complaining about having dry eyes these past days so it’s no surprised he switched to them from his contact lenses.

“You look sexy in your glasses, have I told you that?”

He glances at you, a small smirk tugging on his lips before he returns to the paper in front of him.

“Think they make me look older,” he mumbles under his breath.

“Nah, not more at least than your grandpa sweaters,” you tease him, earning a ‘Really? This again?’ look from him that makes you chuckle.

You busy yourself while Harry finishes his work and then you head out together, strictly keeping the distance between each other. Walking out of the building Harry heads to the left where the car park is while you take a turn to the right. It’s been your usual, since you can’t have anyone see you get into Harry’s car so casually, so you usually walk down to the small café near Building D, because there’s a very narrow little street running behind it where you can get into the car without anyone noticing you. You do the same now too before finally heading back to Harry’s place. Sinking into the comfortable seat, you stare out the window, thinking about how it’s just been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, but it feels like you’ve been together with Harry for months. Despite his many doubts and hesitant act, it was easy to fall into a kind of routine with him, and even more easier to get used to the thought that he is yours and you are his.

During these six weeks you’ve learned quite a few things about him, things women on campus would die to know and they were handed over to you on a silver plate by Harry himself.

One, he is a very touchy person, of course, when he has the chance for it. In the safety of his home or when you have a few minutes for yourselves in his office, he always likes to have his hand on your back or waist, he loves touching your hips or cheeks, caressing the skin wherever it shows from under your clothes. He is also very cuddly, likes to wrap you in his arms when you’re watching TV and when it’s time to sleep the first thing he does is to pull you into his embrace. You usually wake up in the morning with him completely wrapped around you, limbs thrown over you, face buried into your chest or stomach. He is a messy sleeper, but also a fucking adorable one.

Two, he is a good cook but not that good at baking. He says it’s the universe’s sign that he shouldn’t eat as much sweet stuff as he does, but in reality he just sucks at measuring the ingredients. He never follows the recipe, easily goes with things his own way and then he is surprised when it doesn’t turn out as it should.

Three, he notices the smallest things you’d never. Like how you hate it when the Sun is shining right into your face so he always makes sure to draw the blinds in the evening, or that you prefer sleeping with more pillows so he just simply gives you an extra without even asking every time you’re spending the night. He cares so much about you to the smallest details, it always makes your heart flutter.

And four, though he keeps a tough act in school, he is a lovesick puppy when no one is around, likes to be the small spoon when cuddling, absolutely adores it when you cup his face in your palms and kiss it all over. Loves it when you play with his hair or when you hug him from behind, kissing between his shoulder blades. He always tells you how pretty you are and never misses a chance to sneak a kiss from you. You couldn’t imagine him do any of these before you really knew him, but now you see that all these little things are just as much parts of him like the version of him he shows at school. You feel lucky to be able to see him like this and you’ll probably never get bored of it.

Arriving to his place you drop your bag off at the bedroom before you join him in the kitchen, already eyeing the flyer to the nearby Italian place that delivers.

“How about pizza?” he hums, eyebrows knitted together as he scans the menu.

“Sounds good. Can we order dessert too?” Walking past him you kiss his shoulder before grabbing a glass for yourself, filling it with tap water.

“Oh, no need,” he shyly answers, glancing at you. “We… have dessert.”

You watch him with curious eyes as he disappears in his little study before emerging with a plate filled with pink cupcakes. They look wobbly, the cream on top is not the same on either of them, but because you know he made them, they are the most perfect you’ve ever seen.

He places the plate to the counter with a shy smile before turning to you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs, hands finding your hips as he pulls you in for a kiss.

“Oh baby, did you stay up last night to make these?” you ask, touched that he took the time and energy to surprise you with something. Harry nods and you kiss his dimples softly.

“Mm, they are strawberry flavored,” he smirks boyishly.

“We are never escaping strawberries,” you chuckle softly as you dip your fingertip into the cream on top of one of the cakes, tasting it. “Hmm, this is actually good,” you tell him.

“Yeah, the cream is kind of okay, dunno about the rest though,” he admits chuckling.

“As long as it’s not poisonous, I’ll love it,” you giggle kissing his lips again softly. “Alright, but I can’t go over the fact that we agreed on no gifts for Valentine’s Day,” you say giving him a look.

“S’not a gift, just… a little gesture,” he shrugs innocently.

“Okay, then you can’t get mad over my little gesture,” you smirk at him, peeling his arms off you before you run into his bedroom to get his gift.

You really weren’t planning to give him anything, but you had a good idea last minute and couldn’t just not do it. Digging into your bag you pull out the little box and join him in the kitchen again, handing it to him.

“It’s not fair if you spent money on it,” he pouts, but you just roll your eyes.

“You spent money on the cupcakes too. But besides, I didn’t spent a penny on it. Open it!” You urge him.

Harry huffs but takes the lid off, revealing a stack of Polaroid photos. In this not too ideal situation the two of you are living in, there’s no chance you can ever post anything about him, even though there are quite a few cute photos of you with Harry. Eden recently bought a Polaroid printer and you borrowed it to print your favorite pictures of the two of you. There’s one from the morning after New Year’s Eve, just a silly selfie you took in bed, then one with the band from Harry’s birthday recently, a photo of the two of you backstage of one of his gigs you took in the mirror, he has his guitar in his hands as you stand next to him smiling widely. There are a few more with Sarah, Mitch, Charlotte and Adam and at the very end of the stack… some special ones.

You watch him go through them smiling warmly until he reaches the last few and freezes. You took the courage to take a few spicy ones of yourself in your favorite lingerie and thought it would be sexy to print them out as well and give them to him.

“I hope you’re not thinking about selling them already,” you chuckle. Harry glances up at you before shaking his head with a playful smirk.

“Was just a little surprised by them,” he admits.

“Do you… like them?”

“Oh baby, I love them, you look… wow,” he breathes out going over the pictures one more time. “But I’m gonna have to lock these away so no one finds them. Adam likes to go over my stuff when he is over, I definitely don’t want him to find them.”

“You better keep them safe because if anyone sees them I’m burying myself,” you snort.

Harry puts the stack of photos back into the box before leaning down he cups your face and kisses you gently.

“Thank you, love the pictures. All of them,” he adds cheekily and you feel yourself blushing.

He leans in to kiss you again, putting the box aside to the counter and this time it’s not just one short kiss, he carries it on, taking his time with your lips, savoring and tasting you without a worry in the world. It grows more and more passionate, tongues clashing and you tug at his hair, lacing your fingers through his locks, a moan escaping his pink lips.

You start inching backwards until your backside meets the edge of the counter. Harry doesn’t hesitate to pull your sweater off of you, throwing it behind before his lips are pressed against yours again. It doesn’t take long for his shirt and pants and your jeans to end up on the floor somewhere behind him, leaving you both in just your underwear. You kiss down his neck and collarbones, your lips gliding across his tattooed chest as you slowly slide down to your knees, hands moving over his growing bulge.

Hooking your fingers into the elastic of his boxers, you tug them down and pull his erection out, already so hard for you and you barely even touched him.

“What does my Valentine deserve for making me cupcakes?” you hum, teasingly pumping him a few times with your hands. Harry whimpers under your touch, but doesn’t answer so you stop your hands and look up at him. “Talk to me, what do you want?”

“Your mouth,” he breathes out, his eyes meeting yours, filled with lust and hunger only for you. Smirking to yourself you lick his length up before gently kissing the head, swirling your tongue around the tip before you slowly take him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, baby!” he pants when you start bobbing your head, pumping the base in sync with your head’s movements.

His hand comes to the back of your head, fingers lacing through your hair. He doesn’t force you, he never does, just likes to hold onto you. You try to take him deeper and deeper with each movement until you fit his whole cock into your mouth, keeping it there for a few seconds before pulling away and letting him go.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, helping you up from the floor, kissing your lips hard as he is already pulling your panties down your legs. “How do you want it?”

“From behind,” you tell without hesitation, turning around so you can lean onto the counter and push your ass up for him.

You feel one of his hands stroke down your spine while the other one reaches between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, drawing gentle circles on it at first before he goes a little harder, making you moan his name.

“Harry, please!” you beg, the need to feel him growing with each passing second.

He pulls his hand back, grabbing his hard cock as he lines himself up with you, one hand on his shaft, the other one holding your hip firmly to keep you in place. First he pushes just the tip inside and when he is sure you’re ready to take more, he slides all of him inside, filling you up perfectly.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good. Always so good,” he breathes out, both his hands coming to grip your waist as his hips meet your ass from behind.

He starts moving, going a little soft at the beginning before he gets rougher, his hips smacking against your ass with each thrust. You arch your back and push your ass up so you’re angled just perfectly for him, he runs a hand up your back, sliding it under the clasp of your bra and he leaves it there while fucking you from behind oh so well.

“Harry, oh my God!” you groan when he starts hitting that one spot that makes you go crazy.

��Feeling good, baby?”

“Fuck! So good!” you gasp, feeling the pleasure building up with each thrust. “Go harder!” you beg and once he has both hands on your hips again he does as you asked, railing into you hard, making you keep gasping for air.

“Getting close? Tell me when you’re about to cum, baby.”

“I’m close, please don’t stop!” you pant, hands holding onto the counter’s edge for dear life.

He reaches around you, a hand coming between your legs as his fingers find your clit again, adding to the sensation as he starts playing with it just the way you like it.

“Fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum! Harry!” you moan uncontrollably and he growls deeply from his chest.

“Cum with me, baby. Give it to me,” he breathes out sharply and he just keeps railing you hard, fingers working on your clit until he feels your walls clench around his dick. “Oh fuck, yes, baby! Cum on my cock!” he gasps and at the same time as you go through your orgasm, you feel him twitch inside you, coming hard with you at the same time. “Jesus fuck! I love you, Y/N!”

You gasp at his words, eyes snapping open in the middle of your orgasm and all air pushes out of your lungs for a moment.

He whimpers and moans, thrusting into you a few more times before he comes to a halt, both of you panting like crazy, coming off your high. When he slowly slides his softening cock out of you, you turn around and look into his eyes. For a moment you thought he just said it in the heat of the moment and he didn’t even realize it, but when your eyes meet his, you can tell he is a little afraid of what your reaction is going to be.

“Did you mean that?” you quietly ask as he tucks his dick back into his boxers, pulling them up, but you don’t bother to put your underwear back on, standing there in only your bra.

“I-I did. I didn’t mean to say it now, but I did mean it,” he nods. “Is it… too soon?”

“No,” you smile at him, stepping closer so you can cup his face in your palms, kissing his lips softly. “I love you too.”

“You do?” he asks, surprised at your reaction.

“Of course, silly. I wouldn’t give my nudes to someone I don’t,” you joke making him chuckle, his arms coming to curl around your waist.

“Sorry, this wasn’t too… romantic,” he breathes out and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“You said you love me while fucking me on Valentine’s Day after exchanging cute gifts. I think it’s romantic,” you chuckle, finally making him smile. “Besides, I don’t care about the setting, just feels nice to hear you say it.”

“Yeah?” “Mhm, care to say it again so I can see your eyes as well?”

“I love you,” he softly murmurs, his forehead resting against yours.

“Yeah, feels better when I can actually look at you,” you chuckle kissing him softly. “I love you too.”

It’s definitely not just fun and games, being in a secret relationship that no one can know about. It surely adds a lot of tension into the situation, having to be so careful all the time and be reserved to the point where you can’t even be seen too often together.

As the semester carries on you always keep your ears open if there’s anything going on about you and Harry. Though you only limit your time together on campus to the bare minimum, only talking on rare occasions, you still want to make sure no one is getting the wrong (or right) idea about what is going on between the two of you.

The worst part is probably having to lie to Eden and Nat all the time. You spend about three nights at Harry’s every week and you have to lie every time you leave. After a while you tell them that you’re dating this new guy but he wants to keep it low-key because he recently broke up with his previous girlfriend. That gives them enough peace not to nag you all the time but you can tell they really want to meet this new man in your life.

You’ve tried to discuss it with Harry, tell him that they won’t tell anyone but it ended in a fight and you kind of gave up. Harry is way too keen on keeping it a secret and it’s clear he is not gonna make any exceptions. At least it’s the same with his friends, the two of you act like just friends when you’re out with the band though you have a suspicion that Sarah can see through the act. However she chooses not to talk about it so it’s kept hidden.

You don’t fight much with Harry, but when you do, it’s major. You both can get really into the argument and it easily gets way too heated, turning into a screaming match until you both realize you should just talk it out and have a little more understanding for each other. The makeup sex after a fight however… that’s something that makes up for every nasty thing that’s said in the heat of the moment.

Nearing the end of the semester you both start to grow more stressed, you about finishing your last classes, your thesis and studying for your finals, Harry about the growing pile of essays and tests waiting to be graded. A lot of the time when you’re at his place you both are busy with your own stuff and only have the chance to actually be with each other when you go to bed. It takes a toll on the both of you, but you’re determined to make it work. Despite the unfortunate nature of how you are forced to maintain your relationship, it’s the healthiest one you’ve ever head and you definitely won’t give up on it too easily.

Though you, Nat and Eden turn in your thesis works mid-April, the semester is still not done for the three of you, the final exams are threateningly close at this point. Spring has officially kicked in, the weather is mostly clear and sunny, allows you to stay outside again and you take advantage of it.

One particular afternoon the three of you are lounging under the pergola, all three of you buried in a book or your notes when you spot Harry walking towards the building. You keep your eyes on him as he slowly approaches you, his gaze meets yours and he smiles at you shortly. It’s all you can get out in the public, but it’s more than nothing.

“Isn’t it hard to see him?” Eden asks and glancing her way you see that she is looking at Harry who is now busy with his phone.

“Why would it be?”

“I don’t know, you clearly had a thing for him and it wasn’t even just a one-sided flirting like every other women had with him. I couldn’t be around him if it happened to me.”

“It’s not like anything major happened. It was all bad timing and the situation wasn’t good. It’s better this way,” you tell her, trying to sound convincing while the guilt is eating you on the inside. All these lies are clouding over your head and you have a feeling they will come down on you pouring one day.

“Still crazy that you are friends with his friends though,” Nat chimes in, squinting her eyes in the sunshine.

“Yeah, you are literally the only person on campus who gets to see him in his private life,” Eden nods. If only they knew how much you see him privately!

“It’s not that crazy,” you shrug, turning back to your book.

You all get back to work, forgetting about Harry, or at least Nat and Eden does, because you get a text from him shortly after he disappeared in the building.

Harry: You look very pretty today :)

Y/N: Flirting with me on campus, professor?

Harry: Can’t help it.

Y/N: You look handsome too, it’s a shame I can’t kiss you stupid!

Harry: Patience!

“Y/N? Did you hear what I said?” Nat grabs your attention from the phone and you realize she was talking to you.

“What? Uh, sorry.”

“I said that we should go out this weekend. It’s been ages since we last did anything other than studying.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Don’t come with your usual, rambling about how we shouldn’t have any fun before we finish,” Eden rolls her eyes.

“That’s not what I say. I just think that we have priorities.”

“I don’t know about you, but it’s a priority for me to have fun, so I’m down for a night out.

“I think I’m passing,” you mumble. You already made plans for the weekend with Harry, take a hike up the hills since the weather has been nice and it would be great to spend time together outside the house. The hiking routes are far away enough from town that uni students don’t like to take the hustle to drive all the way out so you’ll be fine being together outside.

“If you want to say that you have something planned with your mystery man, don’t even bother. If it’s not his birthday, we are overruling him,” Eden scoffs and you roll your eyes at her.

“Just go without me.”

“That’s not the same!” Nat whines. “Come on, Y/N. For once choose us!”

“That’s rude I choose you guys a lot of times!”

“Not since you’ve been spending half your life with some man and the other half in the library.”

“Yeah, we feel abandoned!” Nat pouts at you, trying to make you feel bad and in all honesty, she is succeeding.

“We can doll ourselves up, have fancy cocktails and all that, it’s gonna be fun! Come on, just one night! I can’t take another Saturday sitting in my room, reading my notes,” Eden growls and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I guess I’m in,” you mumble and your friends start cheering as if you just declared that men and women are going to get paid equally from now on.

You can tell Harry is bummed that you have to cancel your weekend plans, but he is also trying to be understanding.

“I couldn’t bring up a relevant argument so they made me say yes,” you growl when later that day you’re cuddling on his couch after dinner.

“S’fine,” he sighs, leaning down he pecks your lips shortly.

“Wish I could just tell them that I had plans with you,” you breathe out.

“Y/N…” “I know!” you roll your eyes. “It’s just that it would be nice if I could at least tell them the truth.”

“We already talked about this,” he sighs.

“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that it bothers me,” you point out. “Am I not allowed to feel that way?”

“You are, I just don’t get why you keep bringing it up when there’s literally nothing I can do about it,” he retorts.

“Well there is, you just choose not to.” And with that, you officially pick another fight with him.

It’s not that you enjoy fighting with him, not at all, but the situation is so not ideal and you find his overprotectiveness a little too much at times. You don’t understand why you can’t share it with your two closest friends. You could at least tell Sarah or the other guys, have anyone know about the two of you, but literally no one on Earth knows that you are a couple and it’s bugging you way more than it probably should.

“Why are you so damn keen on making others know about us? What does that have to do with anything?” he growls throwing his hands into the air, standing in the opposite end of the room as you keep pacing the floor, the urge to keep on moving taking over you.

“Because—“ you snap, but stop yourself. You know if you say it out loud, he’ll think you’re stupid.

“Because what?!”

“Because i-it makes me feel like we are not even real! I can’t talk about us, I can’t touch you outside of this house, no one knows we are a thing and it’s so fucking nerve-wrecking, Harry!” you break down, feeling your throat closing up. You didn’t mean to get emotional over this, but you’ve been bottling it up for a while now.

Harry’s shoulder fall forward as he sees the change in you, the heat of the fight long forgotten. He crosses the room, hands reaching up to cup your face in his palms, his thumbs running across the soft skin under your eyes as he wipes the tears away.

“Baby, I know. You think I don’t want to show you off? I want to hold your hand and just take a walk with you, kiss you whenever I want to, show all the horny fratboys on campus that you’re taken. I know it’s hard, but we really don’t have a choice until the end of the semester.”

He gently kisses the tip of your nose before pulling you to his chest, your arms circle around his waist as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, trying to stop your sobs.

“I’m sorry. I really wish it was all different,” he murmurs, kissing into your hair softly.

“No, I’m sorry for bitching about this all the time. I knew what we were getting into,” you exhale sharply. “It just… really sucks.”

“It does. But we just have to be patient.”

You manage to put the fight behind and move on in peace, but a tiny thought remains buzzing in the very back of your mind. What happens when you finish school? Will it all be different? Harry will still be a professor and if people see you around together, they will know you were one of his students. What’s gonna be the difference? If he is so on edge now, something is telling you he won’t be changing dramatically and it concerns you. A lot.

Not willingly, but you go out with Nat and Eden on Saturday. You go to a place that’s quite popular between students, you can most likely always find familiar faces from lecture halls and classes. It’s close to campus and more on the cheap side, the perfect spot for uni students for a night of fun.

As expected, you run into some people from school and they invite the three of you to sit with them at their table which comes in handy, because there’s no empty place by the time you arrive.

One drink follows the other and you easily get tipsy especially because you skipped on dinner before heading out. Though you weren’t in the mood for tonight, you find yourself enjoying the conversation and the company. It really has been long since the last time you went out with the girls and it’s nice to spend some time with them without the books and notes.

A debate starts about whose course one of the boys, Jace should take next semester.

“Professor Peltz is fucking boring, dude,” Nat growls, taking a sip from her drink. “Had him last semester, I could barely stay awake during his lectures.”

“Yeah, but they say he gives good grades easily,” Jace argues.

“Okay, but who else can you choose from again?” Lydia, a girl who lived a few doors down from you when you lived in a dormitory your first year.

“Um, Professor Makley and Professor Styles.”

You freeze at the mention of Harry, especially upon hearing Lydia’s reaction.

“Jace, choose Professor Styles! He is so fucking hot!”

“Not that it matters to me, Lyd,” Jace chuckles.

“Oh come on, I know even guys think he is hot.”

You feel like an intruder in the conversation, keeping quiet as you listen to her rave about how hot she finds Harry. It’s like you are eavesdropping on something that wasn’t meant for your ears, but it’s just the guilt bubbling inside you once again, because you know you won’t be able to say a word without having to lie.

“She has a point,” another guy, Garrett chimes into the conversation. “The man is handsome and I’m not even ashamed to admit it.”

“See?” Lydia chuckles. “He is sexy and smart, the whole package. I’ve been daydreaming about him since first year.”

You catch Eden’s look, but you just busy yourself with gulping from your vodka cranberry, feeling uncomfortable in the situation but not even for the reason she thinks. Eden must think it’s weird because you had an actual thing with Harry, but the truth is… that thing is still very much ongoing.

“I would let that man do whatever he wants with me,” Lydia adds sighing longingly, and you are having a hard time to hold your tongue. Unfortunately, you don’t succeed.

“Not sure he wants anything to do with you,” you mumble into your drink and though you hoped your comment would stay unnoticed, but you are out of luck.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Lydia slyly replies, a bit too full of herself for your liking. Yes, she is pretty and definitely doesn’t have problem with guys, but she is a little too confident about Harry if you’re being honest.

“I’m sorry?” you ask with a soft, bit annoyed chuckle.

“I’m just saying that we’ll never know who he finds attractive, because we all know he keeps himself so far from his students.”

“Yeah, maybe because he is not interested in any of his students,” you point out.

“As if he would ever make a move on any of us,” she snorts and you are losing your temper. You shouldn’t have had so much to drink, because now you really can’t hold your tongue.

“You can never know, Lydia. You can’t know if he acts the way he does because he is just trying to be professional or because he is, and consider this, not interested in you. Maybe he would actually act up on his feelings but you’re just not his type.”

Your comment is more like just a harsh comeback to Lydia’s words, but Nat and Eden kind of catch on that something is up with you. Ignoring their questioning looks you chug down your drink and soon excuse yourself to get some fresh air. No surprise that they follow you like puppies.

“Girl, what was that inside?” Nat asks as the three of you stand near the entrance of the bar, a few smoking guests littering the area.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you mumble, clearly avoiding to look at any of them, wrapping your arms around your upper body as if you were trying to keep your shit together physically.

“You snapped at Lydia for saying Professor Styles might have a thing for her,” Eden points out, but you just bite the inside of your cheeks.

“Because it was bullshit.”

“Why does that matter to you? Not that you’re together with him or something,” Nat argues and you roll your lips into your mouth, trying to keep a straight face but they know you way better than that. They gasp at the same time, Eden grabbing your forearm forcefully that makes you scowl.

“Hey! That hurts!” you whine, but she couldn’t care less.

“Are you fucking around with Professor Styles?” Nat whisper yells at you, eyes wider than ever.

“I mean… we’re not fucking around,” you mumble, looking down at your shoes as you kick the dirt around. “We’re kinda serious.”

“Holy fucking shit!” Eden snaps, drawing some attention at her and you let out an awkward chuckle at the glances the three of you get. “Are you fucking joking right now?”

“No, I am… not,” you admit, feeling a little relieved that you finally said it, but you also feel like you let Harry down with it.

“How long?” Nat questions in shock.

“Since New Year’s Eve. So… almost four months.”

“So he is the one you’ve been seeing all this time? The guy you didn’t want to talk about?”

“Um, yeah. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk about him, we just agreed that it’s safer if no one knows.”

“I’m speechless, Y/N,” Eden shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t fucking believe you kept it from us for this long!”

“I know, I felt so shitty, but it’s such a complicated situation, it’s so risky, we don’t want it to ruin us.”

“Obviously,” Nat nods understandingly. “And now I see why you snapped so harshly at Lydia.”

“I just couldn’t stand her talking like that. You guys have no idea how hard it is to keep every fucking thought to myself.”

“Why do I have a feeling it has a little more to it than to just Lydia drooling over Harry?” Nat arches an eyebrow at you, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, you’ve been oddly tensed lately,” Eden agrees.

“It’s just pretty stressful to have a secret relationship, it causes a lot of tension. And I’ve been… I’m not sure anything is going to change after I graduate, if I’m being honest.”

“What do you mean?” Nat asks.

“I just…” you sigh, all your thoughts you kept to yourself flooding back to you at once, overwhelming you in a situation that’s already a bit too much to handle. “We keep saying that it’s gonna change when I graduate, but I don’t see it. He is so overprotective and even if I graduate, people will find out that I was once his student. And it might not be against the rules anymore, but we’ll be judged. I didn’t think it through before, but it’s now starting to be more and more clear for me and I just… don’t know if we can make it work.”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes, you’ve been keeping this to yourself for way too long now and saying it out loud just broke the dam. When Nat and Eden sees your lips trembling and the watery eyes you’re trying to blink away, they don’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug.

“Aw, don’t cry! It makes me want to cry too!” Nat chuckles softly as they sandwich you between them.

“It just sucks so much, because I love him, but I feel like we met at the wrong time and place,” you sob, letting them crush you.

“It happens, baby. It happens. You’ll figure it out!” Eden kisses your forehead before they let go of you. “Want to go home?”

“It’s still early, don’t want to kill the party. I think I’ll just… head over to Harry’s for now. Is that okay?”

“Of course, do whatever makes you feel better,” Nat assures you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry I was such a party pooper.”

You call yourself an Uber and text Harry that you are going over. Twenty minutes later you are walking up the stairs to his house and he opens the front door before you could even reach for the doorknob.

“Hey, baby,” he breathes out softly and you don’t say a word, just wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “Hey, what happened? Didn’t have a good time with your friends?” He delicately caresses your hair, walking the two of you inside so he can close the door before wrapping both his arms around you, holding you close to his chest.

“Don’t really want to talk about it,” you mumble and it’s the truth. You’re tired of these thoughts though you know you should talk to him about how you’ve been feeling about the two of you lately. Part of you is hoping something will just magically solve the whole situation and you won’t have to deal with it yourself.

Harry makes you a tea while you take a shower and once you are both in bed, you cuddle to his side while he reads some. You are just genuinely enjoying his closeness, because despite everything that’s been haunting you in connection with Harry, you really love this man. Like no one else before and the possibility of the two of you not making it long term scares you more than it probably should.

The next few weeks come and go in a sense of numbness. Following your emotional breakdown in front of the bar, you kind of push the whole thing to the back of your mind once again, putting all your focus on finishing school. Neither you nor Harry has the energy to put up more fights though you both can feel there’s a lot to talk about, but the end of the semester is just keeping you both way too busy to acknowledge the problems waiting on the corner.

At least there’s one less weight on your shoulders now that Nat and Eden know about you and Harry. You made them swear to their life they won’t tell anyone and you trust them to keep this heavy secret. They’ve been very supportive of the two of you, interrogated you one evening about everything that happened so far, they wanted to make sure Harry treats you the right way. No surprise, he does.

A few weeks before your state exam Harry extends his contract with the school to have him as a professor for another academic year so he is able to keep his visa as well.

You spend your last two weeks buried in your notes before your state exam and Harry gives you all the time and space you need, knowing well how much it means to you to earn the best grade possible.

When you are finally over your exam, you are celebrating at his place. He has bought a little cake and some champagne and you can’t wait to finally spend some time with him without having to worry about your studies.

“I’m proud of you, baby,” he smiles at you, clinking his glass against yours.

“Thank you, feels nice to be finally free,” you chuckle before taking a sip from the champagne.

“My smart girl, knew you’d kill all your exams.” He kisses your lips shortly before squeezing your hand. “How about I run a bath for us, we eat the cake in the tub and then we can watch a movie?”

“Sounds fantastic,” you smile at him before he disappears in the bathroom to get everything ready.

Finishing your champagne you wash the glass quickly and you’re about to cut the cake when your phone buzzes signaling that you’ve just gotten an email. As pull down the notification bar your lips part reading the first few lines. You open the whole thing and read through it eagerly.

It’s a job offer, but not just some lame one that also sounds sketchy at the same time. This one is from one of the biggest investigation offices in London and they are offering you a trainee position as a forensic document examiner with a possible secured spot on their team after one year. The money sounds amazing, the position is perfect, just what you’ve been dreaming of once you are done with school and they are looking forward to hear back from you about a possible interview in the near future.

“Alright, bath is coming together nicely, want to cut the ca—Wha’s up?” Harry questions upon returning from the bathroom, finding you staring at your phone’s screen with widened eyes.

“I, uhh—I just got a… a job offer,” you stutter, still rereading the lines, trying to find a sign that tells you it’s just a joke, but it seems completely genuine.

“What? Baby, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah,” you nod swallowing hard before you look up at him. “It’s in London.”

You watch his face fall from excited and happy to shocked and kind of panicky. You both know what that means, it doesn’t have to be said out loud. Harry just signed another year with the university that’s gonna tie him here for the next 12 months and if you accept the job you’ll be all the way across the world in the UK. Kind of ironic, him, the British guy stuck in the States while you, the American in the relationship, eager to go to the UK.

“That’s… wow. London.”

“Yeah, London,” you nod biting the inside of your cheeks.

“Are you… Are you gonna take it?”

“Well, they want an interview with me, but this is clearly a huge opportunity for me,” you say, not wanting to say the actual words. You feel like saying them would hit you harder than what you can take.

“It clearly is, it’s just that… You want to leave?” he breathes out, eyebrows knitting together.

“This is my only job offer and probably the best I’ll ever get.”

“So you do want to leave,” he forces and it’s pushing your limits.

“Career-wise, of course!” you finally say out loud, unwillingly.

“And what about everything else?”

“I clearly don’t want to leave everything else here, but I will never get a chance like this, Harry. This is the greatest push for someone like me, fresh out of school. I can have a secured spot in a year at a well-respected place. I’m not really in the position to reject offers like this.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, clearly unsure about what to do or say in the situation on his hand. You can tell he has a lot to say, but you’re not sure you want to hear all of them.

“Say something?” you softly plead and his eyes meet yours again, filled with concern.

“I just… It took me by surprise, I guess.”

“I wasn’t expecting it either.”

“No, not the job offer,” he shakes his head.

“Then what?”

“That you are ready to leave so easily. It’s like you never even wanted to discuss a version where you stay here, you just decided that you are leaving and that’s it.”

“Did you hear me? I cannot pass on this opportunity, Harry.”

“I did hear you,” he nods, pressing his lips together. “I heard that you didn’t even think about saying no.”

“Why would I say no?”

“Because I’m here, Y/N!” he snaps. “Good to know that I’m not a factor when it comes to decisions as big as leaving the country!”

“You are, Harry, but I need to think about my future career now. I’m not planning to work at an office for the rest of my life and if I pass on this job I might never get anything as good as this one,” you explain, but it seems like the two of you are having two different conversations.

“But why do I feel like it was never an option for you to stay?”

You give him a confused look. He really doesn’t see your point.

“Okay, why was only I supposed to change plans for us? You coming to London doesn’t feel like an option either, why are you trying to turn this against me?”

“I just extended my contract, you know that.”

“I do, and also, while we are at it, you didn’t ask me about that either. You didn’t even wait for me to figure out what I want to do after school, you just assumed that I would be here, but I never said that.” You can tell it hit him hard in the chest but somehow still, he thinks he is right when he isn’t.

“How could have I known you’d want to move across the globe?” he throws his hands up into the air.

“You’re saying this as if I didn’t just get the email and I’ve been plotting this the whole fucking time!”

“I’m just saying that it’s a huge fucking step and you decided so easily, it says a lot about the nature of our relationship.”

“Why are you saying that?!” you snap at him. “Why are you trying to make me the bad guy?”

“I’m not! I’m just saying that it would have been nice if you at least pretended like it was up for debate. You know what it’ll do to us if you move to London.”

“Then come with me!”

“I can’t!” He raises his voice, clearly losing his temper. “I can’t break my contract and you know that too.”

“Well, I can’t afford to say no to the job either and if I’m being honest, I don’t think we could have made it work even if I stayed.” The words leave your mouth before you could think about them, and the cat is finally out of the bag. It seemingly shocked Harry and he is now staring at you with a blank expression, shoulders falling forward.

“What?” he breathes out and you can actually hear his heart breaking. You take a deep breath and rub your face with your palms, trying to collect your thoughts and not just blurt everything out.

“I’ve been thinking and… Even after I’m officially out of the school, people will know that I was your student if they see us together. And I know how important your reputation is for you so I would never put you through any of the shit we might get for us being together. People would judge, no matter what the situation is. I don’t… I just don’t think we can ever make it work here.”

He stays silent, just stares at you, taking in your words and once again, you wish you could read his mind. You almost start begging him to say something when he finally speaks up.

“So you think we don’t have a chance?”

“Not here… maybe not now. I feel like this has been the perfect example of wrong place, wrong time,” you quietly say, a pang of guilt in your tone, this is not how you planned on making this conversation. To be honest, you wished this never had to come, but you were out of luck.

Harry is awfully silent, it’s all over his face how broken he is and you feel the same. You have so much love for this man, yet fate decided you don’t get to share it with him the way you want.

Walking closer you cup his face in your palms, searching for his eyes until his green irises meet your gaze. You run your thumb across his cheekbones, the pads of your fingers gliding softly over the soft skin. His hands slowly find their way to your waist and he pulls you close to him as you kiss him tenderly, a silent confession about just how much you love him.

“I wanted this to work. I wanted this so badly,” he whispers against your lips, his fingers digging into your back as he keeps you tight in his hold.

“I know. Me too,” you smile at him bitterly.

The rest of the evening passes by silently. You take a bath together, finish the cake anyway though even the sweetness can’t help the pain you both feel. Then you lie in bed for hours, just touching and feeling each other, making the best out of the time you have left. It’s unsaid, but you both know your days together are coming to a close end. Kisses and touches turn into some passionate love making, both of you desperate to feel as close to each other as possible and then you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

If you’re being honest, it’s all a blur following that night. You fix up an interview with London a few days later and they are not shying out of telling you straightforward that they want you there, the job is yours. You have one last short conversation with Harry about you leaving, but it’s more like just a confirmation that yes, it is going to happen and that leaves you with only a few weeks left together before you are packing up to leave the country.

You spend every possible free minute together until graduation where you finally get your degree. Your whole family comes and they cheer on you proudly, Harry standing in the crowd a little farther in the back, but still with a proud smile, a hint of gloominess in his beautiful green eyes. A week later you officially move out of your shared apartment with the girls, it’s a sobbing goodbye since all three of you are leaving in different directions following your graduation. You spend your last two weeks before your departure at home, spending as much time with your family as possible since you won’t be able to see them too often once you leave. Though your mom is dying to take you to the airport to say her final goodbye, you decided to give that time to Harry. He said he would drive to your hometown, pick you up and take you to the airport and you already know it’s gonna turn you into an emotional mess.

Leaving everything behind is hard, but having to say goodbye to Harry is the worst. It’s been a whole emotional rollercoaster for the both of you to get to this point and neither of you are ready to say goodbye, but this is what needs to happen.

That morning, you hug your parents, sister and brother tightly after you load Harry’s car with your two huge suitcases that have your whole life packed in them. You asked your family not to ask any questions about Harry and luckily, they kept quiet the whole time he was there, just treating him as a friend. You couldn’t take having to explain to them who he really is and how you met him, that’s gonna be another conversation for the future when you don’t feel like you’re about to start crying the moment you open your mouth.

The ride to the airport is silent, Harry holds your hand, your glued together palms lying on your lap the whole time. You haven’t even left but you already miss him so much.

Arriving he helps you bring all your stuff inside and patiently waits until you check your baggage in, leaving you with just your carry-on. Standing near the security check, the final moment finally comes and as soon as you look into his eyes you start bawling your eyes out.

“Oh baby, come ‘ere,” he breathes out, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I told you we would make everything right, but I couldn’t,” you sob into his chest as he holds you tight. You feel like if he let go of you, you’d just turn into a puddle at his feet.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he soothes you, his fingers threading through your hair.

“But it feels like it was,” you choke out. Harry leans back and takes your puffy cheeks between his warm palms, looking deep into your eyes.

“It wasn’t. As you said, it was just a matter of wrong time and place. But I think we brought the best out of it.”

“So… you don’t regret it?” you softly ask, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“Absolutely not,” he smiles at you kindly. “I loved every moment of it. And I love you.” You notice how he didn’t use past tense when he said he loves you and you can’t decide if it aches your heart more or fills you with joy. A little bit both of them.

“I love you too,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his, savoring them one last time before you leave everything behind.

“Maybe we’ll meet again,” he smiles sweetly when he pulls back, tugging your hair behind your ear with a gentle move.

“I really hope,” you chuckle through your tears. “Take care, Harry,” you tell him, pecking his lips just once more.

“You too, baby,” he smiles, his hands falling to his sides as he lets go of you.

Turning around you walk into security and as you go with the line towards the gates, you glance back one last time. Harry is standing in the exact same spot, eyes glued to you as he watches you disappear from his sight.

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It feels like the meeting is never coming to its end. You exchange a look with Jasmine, who seems just as tired and done with this two hours long discussion as you are. She grabs her phone from the table and you watch her something type out before she eyes at your device, signaling that she just texted you.

Jas: I need alcohol after this day. Want to have a drink with me after work?

Y/N: YES PLEASE!!!!!!!

You see her smile at her screen before both of you return to your boss at the front, talking about a possible upcoming case.

“And last but not least, I want to take a moment to bring light to the excellent work Y/N, our new full-time colleague did on the Santiago case. The police were highly satisfied with the fast and precise work you did. This was your first official case since you’ve decided to accept our offer to become a full member of our team and transferred from your position as a trainee. Congrats!” William, your boss nods in your way with a proud smile as a round of applause cheers for you from your colleagues.

“You go girl!” Jasmine mouths you from across the table and you just chuckle shaking your head.

The meeting finally wraps up and everyone goes on with their day. You are walking back to your office with Jasmine by your side. Your offices are next to each other and you started working here just three weeks apart. She is the same age as you and was approached the same way as well, it’s just that she moved all the way from Australia. The two of you have grown quite close, starting a new life at the same time in a foreign country, it easily brought you together.

“So are we leaving early for those drinks or what?” she asks poking your side.

“How early?”

“I don’t know, like fifteen minutes? Come on, it’s Friday, everyone leaves early!” You shake your head chuckling at her. She can be so restless sometimes, but it’s just the right amount that she can push you out of the comfort zone just enough.

“Alright.”

“Cool, I’ll come banging on your door,” she winks at you before disappearing for her usual coffee break.

It’s two in the afternoon, you still have a few hours ahead of you and some caffeine sounds perfect actually. Though the coffee at the office is excellent, you’ve grown to like this small place nearby, a family owned business that offers the best you’ve ever had.

You grab your bag from your office and head out for a quick coffee run. The walk to the café is freshening, the weather has been treating you well lately, the Sun is beaming and you can only hope you won’t wake up to pouring rain the next morning.

You think back to how lost you were feeling just a year ago, when all of this around you were so new and a little too much at once. One month into your time in London you even thought about quitting and moving back home. You felt alone and broken, yearning after everything you left behind. Your friends, family, loved ones, everything that was so far away from you.

It took you long weeks, even months to get used to your new life and now you can’t even imagine yourself anywhere else. It doesn’t miss you don’t miss terribly the life you had still, but now you have a lot to be happy about here as well.

Waiting at a crossroad, you find yourself twirling around the strawberry ring on your finger, your thumb fidgeting with it like every time you think about your home. You glance down at it and take a deep breath before the lamp turns green and you continue your walk to the café.

It’s not rush hours so there are only a few people lingering around the small place. You don’t have to think about what you are getting, James, the barista already knows your usual and starts making it right away as you swipe your card paying your drink.

You stand at the side, waiting for your coffee, staring out the window, watching people pass by on this lovely afternoon. Your gaze stops on an old lady sitting on a nearby bench, feeding a group of pigeons and you smile as a little girl runs through the birds, making them fly away instantly. The old lady just smiles at the girl, not holding a grudge that she just scared the birds away.

Your eyes move away, watching businessmen come and go, kids going home from school, wearing their school uniforms, everything just feels so… peaceful.

You are almost about to turn away from the window when your gaze falls on a tall figure near the Sainsbury’s across the road and your lips part as you catch a glimpse of a tattooed arm you know all too well. You blink once, twice, three times, waiting for your eyes to make sure it’s the person you think it is.

Harry is standing right there, holding a little bag of groceries, eyes glued to the screen of his phone, oblivious to your shocked gaze on him. Your feet move before your brain could think it through, they take you out of the café and you stand in the middle of the sidewalk as you call out for him.

“Harry!”

His head snaps up at his name, eyes looking around, searching for the source before they finally find you, a shocked, but seemingly joyful expression plastering over his handsome face. He is quick to shove his phone into his pocket before he watches both ways and runs across the road to meet you on the other side. You can’t push your smile down as you watch him approach you, his tall, fit figure getting closer and closer until he is standing right in front of you, watching you in awe.

“Hey,” he breathes out, both of you a little unsure of what to do, how to greet each other.

It’s been months since you last talked. After your departure you kept in contact, you couldn’t just distance yourself from him so abruptly, but the thousands of miles between the two of you made it almost impossible to maintain a working connection, the time zones, all the work you both were buried under and just life itself made you drift away from each other.

But he is now standing in front of you and though he looks slightly different, he is still the Harry you know and love. He is your Harry.

“What… what are you doing here?” you ask, finally finding your voice.

“Did you forget I’m British?” you teases you and you roll your eyes.

“I mean, are you visiting family or something?”

“I uhh…” he glances down at his feet before his eyes meet yours again. “I’m actually back.”

“What do you mean?”

“My contract ended in July and I didn’t… I didn’t extend it. I came back a few weeks ago.”

Your lips part at the information. Harry is in London, he is now in the same city as you, for the first time in a whole year.

“Really? That’s… wow.” There’s too much you want to tell and ask him, yet you stand there, blinking at him, still lost in the feeling of seeing him for the first time again.

“I actually wanted to contact you when I got back, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that,” he admits with a nervous chuckle and your eyes soften over him.

“What do you mean? I would have loved it if you called.”

“It’s just that we haven’t talked in a while and I didn’t know… I didn’t know where you’re standing about me.”

“Well, seems like fate did it for you,” you smile at him warmly. “I would love to catch up. I have to head back to work now, but maybe later?”

“What about after work? When are you getting off?”

“I finish at 5.”

“I can meet you at your work if you text me the address.”

“That would be great,” you nod smiling. “My number is still the same, so you’ll know it’s me.”

“Great,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up in a boyish smirk. You are just now realizing how much you’ve missed him.

“I, um…” You’re trying to find the right words, still feeling overwhelmed about the sudden run-in, but at last you decide to go for a hug.

Your arms wrap around his waist, he hesitates for a moment before wrapping you in his tight embrace, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. A shiver runs down your spine as the sense of home washes over you all at once, the warmth of Harry’s body making your heart flutter. Unfortunately, the moment must come to an end. His arms fall from around you, just like they did at the airport when you said goodbye to each other over a year ago.

“I’ll… see you later then,” he smiles as you are backing towards the entrance of the café.

“Yeah, later,” you nod and turning around you walk inside.

Arriving back to the office you drop by Jasmine’s office to tell her that you have to postpone your plans after work.

“What is more important than getting drunk with me?” she gasps dramatically.

“I ran into… I met Harry,” you tell her. You told her all about Harry one evening when you were out, just a few months into your stay. It was one of those days when you were feeling extremely homesick, or maybe you just missed him terribly.

“What? Your professor ex?” she asks with widened eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, you are forgiven. Go and get the man back!”

“What?” you chuckle. “We just met after a year, how do you know I want him back? Maybe I just want to catch up with him,” you say, but it’s an obvious and blatant lie and you both know that. Jasmine gives you a look.

“Please, you are still so obviously in love with the man, don’t even try to convince me otherwise.”

You don’t protest, just bite into your bottom lip. You really are in love with him, or the version you knew a year ago. He could be an entirely different person now so you can’t be sure if your feelings are the same about the man you met today.

“Have fun with him and then tell me all about it after, okay?” she beams and you just nod, leaving her to finish her work.

As time is slowly passing by you find yourself growing nervous about seeing Harry. That short little conversation on the street was not enough to calm your nerves. What is he like now? Is he the same? Does he have new hobbies? Is he as happy to see you as you are to see him? What will he think of you? What if he doesn’t like you after all this time?

You try to push the questions to the back of your mind, not wanting to overwhelm yourself too much to the point where you chicken out of seeing him. When you’re on your way down following his text that he is waiting for you in front of the building, you are trying to keep yourself together and remind yourself that it’s just Harry, he might be a little different, but he is still kind of the same.

Luckily, the moment you spot him waiting a few feet away from the entrance, you forget about everything else, he is the only one to exist. He envelopes you in a hug when you arrive, smiling at you warmly.

“Hi, ready to go?” he kindly asks and you nod.

You settle for a nearby bar you’ve actually been to with Jasmine before. Harry insists on paying for the first round of drinks as the two of you settle in a secluded booth at the back. When he is standing at the bar you catch yourself watching him in awe. The situation is quite odd, could have never happened probably back home, the two of you casually out for a drink.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks upon returning, sitting across you.

“I was just thinking how this is the first time we are out, just the two of us.”

Harry smiles softly, probably appreciating it just the same.

The next couple of hours you both try to share anything and everything that has happened in the past year. He tells you about his last year as a professor and him not extending his contact. Coming back to London he has joined a research group for a marketing company, using his excellent knowledge to analyze human behavior in connection with different type of ads.

“It’s a lot different from being a college professor ain’t it?” you tease him and he nods chuckling.

“Guess I wanted some change. But it’s been nice, I enjoy doing a lot of research and experiments.”

Then you tell him about your time as a forensic document examiner, all the different cases you worked on and how it has been, living in London on your own. He listens to your tales about everything you’ve done with Jasmine, the concerts and karaoke bars you’ve been to and just generally your life overseas.

“Sounds like you’ve found your place, then,” he says smiling softly.

“I guess. Wasn’t an easy transition, but I’m feeling good now,” you nod. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss my past,” you add.

His eyes wander down to your hands that are fidgeting with your almost empty glass. You see how they stop over the ring and he seems surprised as he reaches out, takes your hand in his and runs his thumb over the little strawberries.

“You’re still wearing the ring,” he states.

“Of course,” you smile and when he is about to let go of your hand, you grab it and hold it, needing to feel his touch.

You wanted to run back home so many times because you were missing him too badly, missed his voice, his eyes, his touch, everything and now, out of nowhere, he is here with you again, far away from the place where it all started and had to end for a while, still making you feel like home, no matter where you are.

At one point, you move to sit beside him in the booth. You just keep sharing and sharing even things you’ve talked about on the phone before. You’re just soaking each other in. His arm soon moves around your shoulders and you gladly lean into his side, placing a hand to his thigh, sparkles running through your body.

“I love this,” you hum to yourself upon finishing your last drink.

“Love what?”

“Being out with you without a worry. I always dreamt of this and it’s just… so natural. I wish we got to experience it before.”

“As you said, that was a wrong time and place. Wasn’t our fault.”

You lift your head, eyes meeting his curious green irises as he smiles down at you kindly. You’ve missed that smile, it still makes your heart skip a beat, just like at the beginning.

“And do you think it’s the right time and place now?” you prompt the question.

“It’s definitely… better,” he chuckles softly. “Unless you are seeing someone, because now would be the best time to tell me.”

“I’m not,” you shake your head smirking. “Tried to go on dates, but truth is… none of them were you. I gave up after a few terrible attempts.”

“I didn’t even try,” he shyly smiles. “I just… knew no one would make me as happy as you did. As you always do.”

Pushing yourself up a bit, you rest your forehead against his as he closes his eyes, his arm around your shoulder tightens and his other hand rests on your thigh, pulling you closer. Your palm slides up his chest and neck until you’re cupping his cheek. You place a soft lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, testing the waters out, seeing how he reacts though nothing that happened tonight tells you he wants to keep his distance.

He moves his face, nose nudging against you before his lips find yours in a kiss you’ve been longing for since you left him behind at the airport over a year ago. Your fingers lace through his hair, pulling him towards you as if he could escape from your hold any moment, but he is definitely here to stay. Your lips clash again and again, savoring each other, eagerly trying to make up for the time you lost since your departure. You melt into his arms, moving your legs across his lap as he pulls you to his lap in the booth, partially hidden from the rest of the bar, wrapped up in your little bubble. He tastes like home, his kisses feel like the first warm rays of sunshine after a long and cold winter, the only thing you couldn’t really get yourself over this whole year. Because you’ve become good at pushing your feelings down to the point where you could easily carry on, but he was always in the corner of your mind, making you wonder if you’ll ever meet again and if you do, will it be the same as before?

It’s not, because it’s better. The burdens and banters that tied you both down a year ago are now long gone, you have all the time and space in the world, nothing is restricting you. You can touch him and kiss him whenever and wherever you want. There’s no more sneaking around, no one here knows who you are and who Harry used to me to you. Here, you’re just another lovesick couple, so into each other it’s almost insane.

When he pulls back his forehead stays rested against yours as you both are trying to catch your breath. His hand runs up and down your thigh, the warmth of his palm melting your body under his soft touch.

“I love you,” he breathes out, eyes meeting yours.

“You still do?” you ask with a small smile, heart beating in your throat.

“I never stopped loving you,” he admits and you let out a shaky breath, pulling him down for a short kiss.

“Not even when I was an ocean away from you?”

“No,” he chuckles shaking his head. “If that’s possible, I loved you even more when you were away. I realized how much you mean to me and I could only hope you weren’t moving on without me.”

“I could never,” you smile at him softly. “I love you too much to do that.”

“You have no idea how much I missed you say that,” he breathes out with a soft chuckle and you kiss his lips shortly, assuring him that you feel the same way. “So… are we going to try again?”

“Do you want to?”

“There’s nothing I want more, baby,” he truthfully admits, his gaze softening at you as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want to?”

“Of course,” you smile at him widely. “I think it’s settled.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry style fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #professor!harry #professor!harry au #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

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baekhvuns · 3 years

Text

the duke and his general.

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

pairing : seonghwa x reader

themes : angst, romcom & smut.

word count : 15k ( part three + final )

three weeks.

three weeks since you last saw the man you once loved.

“miss y/n, would you like your breakfast in the room?”

you lift your head up front the mountain of blankets piled up on you, with a hazy smile and tired face you nod. “that would be great, thank you.”

you shut your eyes once the maid leaves, wanting nothing but the nauseous feeling in your stomach to stop, but the pounding headache makes you shoot up in panic.

your hand automatically flies to your mouth and your eyes widen, you run to the bathroom, lifting the toilet seat up before puking your guts out.

you’re breathing heavily and it feels like you’re about to die, as if someone’s squeezing your insides. tears run down you cheeks and you open your mouth once again.

clutching your shirt tightly you swallowed, “s-seonghwa, where are you?” you call out. flushing the toilet, you get up from the ground, stepping towards the sink to clean yourself.

“hwa,” you call out once again, but no one responds. holding your stomach, you walk out to see the maid standing there with worry etched on her face, you smile lightly and take a seat.

“miss, are you alright?” the elderly lady asks you nod through the insane headache you have, “the duke, he’s gone for a trip, he’ll be back before dinner.”

you nod once again and she leaves the tray beside you with a worried face, “thank you.” once she leaves, your eyes settle on the delicious food made for you.

as much as you want to eat it, your stomach is telling you no. it’s as if you have no appetite left, as if all of it was flushed down the toilet. you push the tray away, and shut your eyes before laying on the bed again.

the next time you wake up, it’s the evening. your room is cleaned by the maids and it’s empty. your bed is cold, but the headache seems to disappear, you lift yourself up and glance around the room.

still, no sign of seonghwa.

ever since the day he yelled at you for going to the war, which you were rightfully wrong in, he hasn’t spared you a glance. you know the ‘trip’ he’s gone to is just a way to ignore you, and truthfully, you do deserve it.

after all, you did think recklessly and went to fight on the battlefield. but you had a valid reason, but the man just wasn’t ready to listen to any of your talk.

your hand lifts up to caress your neck, the wound on it patched up in a white bandage. it hurt, you’re sure their might be a scar forming on it already, if not, you’ve already been scarred by his words.

a sigh flees your lips, your hair falls over your shoulders and you stand up to walk outside. the walk to the gardens is short but it feels like forever, there’s no one in the palace.

guards are off for their afternoon break, yet a few of them are having lunch in their quarters. you decide to take a seat on the white bench that overviews the garden, the sun rays pout down on you and the slight wind eases your nauseous mood.

you usually sit beside seonghwa on this bench, his hands around your shoulder and his chin resting on your head. no matter how much you tried to get away from him, he’d pull you even closer, whining in your ear about you not giving him enough attention.

you smile at the sudden memory reeling through your mind, but then it fades, and it reminds you that he’s not beside you. you’re sitting alone in a field of flowers with a hand on your stomach, caressing it slowly.

you wander around the palace, eyes lowered to the floor because you didn’t want to meet the pity stares of the workers. one of them being kind enough to make you something to eat, that which you ate in the silence of the kitchen and again, you felt nauseous.

you held your head in your hands, lips trembling and your eyes watery. low sniffles echoed the kitchen and your hair acted as a curtain, covering your face.

your shoulders shake slightly as tears rolled down your cheeks, you’ve never felt so weak in your entire life. it’s weird, because you’re supposed to be stronger in the time, you’re in, but it really is disappointing when the only person you’ve loved isn’t by your side.

when you hear footsteps from afar, you quickly get up. wiping your eyes so that no traces of tears were visible, you let your hair fall in-front of your swollen eyes and walked by the group of people who you only recognized as your comrades.

“y/-“

you walk straight past them, have been for the last few weeks. avoiding their calls for your name and speed walking down to your room, locking yourself in.

the guys look at each other unsurely, san sighs before leaving them standing in the middle of the hallway. the rest glance at each other, silence enveloping them all.

“what do we do?” yunho breaks the silence, running a hand through his hair.

hongjoong shakes his head, “we can’t do anything, he’s the only who can do something to fix whatever’s happening.”

“but we can’t just do nothing, i don’t think i’ve ever seen her so down.” wooyoung squeaks, swallowing at that thought.

“where even is he?” yeosang breaks his silence, “i haven’t seen him in days.”

“he’s spending time down at the stables, he’ll be back around dinner.” with a tired sigh they all walk to their respective places.

and when night does fall, all of them finding each other sitting down sitting down by the table. the king and queen sitting at the farther end, you sitting opposite seonghwa while the rest sit wherever they wanted.

you play around with the food placed on your plate; you haven’t lifted your eyes ever since you walked in here. choosing to sit quietly in your chair while nibbling on the food that you don’t crave for.

the dinner is silent, if not for the random conversations created by wooyoung and san and occasionally by the rest. seonghwa’s mother talks to you and you could hear the excitement in her voice, she goes on and on about her wish for seonghwa to have kids.

you resist the urge to laugh with her, showing a smile as she handed you extra portions of the food you’ve barely touched.

and as for seonghwa, the man sitting in front of you seems unrecognizable, he’s sitting proper, hair brushed back with a smile on his face that’s so fake that it hurts to look at, he chats with hongjoong who sat beside him.

he hasn’t dared to look at you in the eye but you know him too well, you know it’s hurting him to do this but he’ll do it until it quenches his satisfaction.

just as you bring a bite of food near your mouth, your eyes widen and you stare at seonghwa before glancing at his mother, who thankfully, was already looking at you.

you flash her a look of pain before shooting your hand up to your mouth, eyebrows crossed you cursed in your mind.

“i-“ you start but you’re not able to finish because you make a run for it your room. holding onto your stomach as you ran, leaving the rest in confusion.

seonghwa’s mother immediately rushes behind you, leaving the rest. the guys get up from their seats, face etched in worry as they watch you run with confused yet worried eyes.

seonghwa’s father, the king, himself is worried but when his eyes land on his son sitting calmly, eating his food as if nothing had just happened, made him confused yet irritated.

san’s eyes shot daggers into seonghwa’s skull, jaw clenching at the fact that your husband is blatantly ignorant you while you’re pregnant. his face shows utter anger for the man before he walks to your room, hongjoong follows soon after.

his father gives the rest of the guys a nod and they too find themselves walking to your room, leaving only him and seonghwa in the room.

“what do you think you’re doing.” his father questions, wiping his hands on the napkin.

seonghwa looks up, “having dinner, father.”

his father raises his eyebrows, “oh, and how about y/n? your wife?”

“what about her?”

his father squints his eyes at him, “your wife, who’s pregnant and is sick, while you’re sitting here as if you don’t know her! how inconsiderate you are.”

seonghwa clenches his jaw at his father, but when his father gives him a look, he tones it down. “you’ll behave the same way if you find out what’s she did.”

“i do not care what she has done, what matters is her health and the child she’s carrying, your child!”

“dad, she went to the war!” he yells, finally loosing it. “she went to the war alone knowing she was not in the right condition too!”

his father stands up, “you, go to her right now. what matters is that she’s alive, right now she needs you the most but you’re here sitting as if none of it bothers you!”

“you’re stubborn,” he pauses, “just like your mother.”

the entire week had been tough for you, you had terrible morning sickness, crazy headaches, uncomfortable sleep patterns, tiredness and barely any appetite.

fortunately, seonghwa’s mother had been by you through all of it, with some special appearances from san and hongjoong who seemed to have made it their schedule to visit you four times a day.

your cravings for certain foods had increased drastically, which made san run to the markets late at night to get you what you wanted. or how sensitive your nose had gotten, almost making hongjoong shower three times.

on the nicer and not hard times, you were able to be in your bed the entire day. or take a walk in the gardens while one of the guys accompanied you, lifting your mood up with their jokes.

but you didn’t want any of that, you wanted seonghwa.

speaking of him, he is in the palace, but sleeps in a different room. eats at a different time as you so he wouldn’t have to see you, or when you two walk by each other, he barely looks at you but you bow your head at him.

“it’s your highness for you.”

you hated doing it, hated it when he didn’t look at you. as much as in the past you’d shoo him away, now you were urging for the said man. hoping he’d at least exchange a few words with you.

but you aren’t blind either, you know he asks the maids to check up on you, or just to check on the baby growing inside of you. you know he sees you walk around the hallways, hiding the pain on your face from the cramps.

his mother and father sympathized with you, offering, and helping you with anything you needed.

but failing to bring one man.

others couldn’t help but be upset at the situation, guards who stood outside your room late at night could hear the faint sound of you weeping.

the guys weren’t blinded to it either, they could hear your cries at the late hours of night. when you think everyone’s fallen asleep, they hadn’t seen such side of you and it shocked them but also made them angry at the man.

so when you decided you have had enough, with his parents permission you pack your bags and leave the palace for a few days or even more. finding home at your parent’s, who welcomed you with bright smiles not knowing what had really happened.

your mother fed you the butteriest meals ever, never not leaving your side even for a minute. or how your father brought a thick book full of names, sitting on his favourite burgundy couch with his glasses on and a lamp turned on beside him, looking over the lists of names to find a contender.

or how your older brother had joined, returning from the navy only to bother you by mentioning ridiculous names to name his niece or nephew. he brought home multiple toys and takes the time to accompany you to the market, lending a hand for holding the bags.

“seriously y/n, if it’s a girl, name her-“

“for the last time sehun, i’m not gonna name my child after some fancy revolver or a alcohol brand!”

“no, but imagine nam-“

“i’m not gonna name my kid ak-47!”

“how about hennessy!”

“get out of my face!”

and as for the the situation in the palace, let’s just say no one has spoken about you for the past two days. you had been living with your parents and they all couldn’t be more happier knowing you’re in a much better environment.

they continue their daily activities at ease, visit you once and in a while and careful not to mention you.

and his royal highness, the duke of eden, park seonghwa sits inside his office. his second home, files piled up to his neck but none of them seem important to him.

his eyes are stuck at the door, waiting for the maid to walk in and put him at ease. by of course, telling him about you.

he’s keeping track of time, eyes flickering from the clock to the door. he finds himself being more and more impatient, tapping his feet under his table repeatedly.

“where is she,” he says, having waited too long he stands up and leaves his office to go and find the maid himself.

when he doesn’t find her, he asks another one who had just walked out a room. she hastily bowed down but he dismissed it all, “where is y/n?” he watches her eyes grow wide.

“you highness, you’ve told us not to talk about her.”

“you see, i’m- just tell me how she is,” he says, and she slowly lifts her head up.

“the duchess, she’s not in the palace.”

“what?”

“she hasn’t been in then palace for days now, i believe today is the third day.”

his eyes widen, “where is she?”

“that i do not know, your highness.” and with that she walks away, leaving a wide eyed seonghwa panicking in the hallway.

he stops for second, the skin between his eyebrows touches before moving back. he runs a hand through his black hair, eyes wandering left and right.

when it finally clicks in his mind that you’re gone, his face drops in disbelief. he walks down the hallway to your room, wanting to see it for himself and tell himself that you were in the palace.

but when he opens the door his shoulders immediately slump, he walks inside. clenching his jaw as your scent hits his nose, a wave of worry washes over him when he doesn’t see you anymore, not in the room or the bathroom.

instead, it’s empty, his breathing wavers and his voice calls for you. but no one responds, he then walks out, his footsteps turn into him sprinting down the halls, searching every single room in the big palace. he can’t find you anywhere.

he finally turned left and burst open the door, breathing heavily his eyes falling over the guys sparing him a glance before continuing their work.

“where’s y/n?” he breaths out, walking in and slamming his hands on the table.

wooyoung looks up, “what do you want?”

seonghwa bites his lips, ticking his eyebrow at the nonchalant attitude of wooyoung. “where’s y/n, and what’s with that attitude?”

hongjoong drops his files with a bang and glares up at the man, “what’s with your attitude? and why do you even care, you didn’t want to see her face two seconds ago, now what happened?”

“ah, did your brains finally fall back in place?” wooyoung brings his hands behind his head, leaning back on the chair while eyeing seonghwa up and down.

“just tell me where she is,” seonghwa spits out, “why isn’t she in her room?”

“ask yourself that, why isn’t she here? how big of an idiot are you?”

“a big one,” mingi adds.

“she’s not here, and for the better.” san speaks from the back and seonghwa scoffs.

“and what would you know is the better for her?” he retorts.

“she knows what’s better for her, none of you need to decide it. and for your information she’s at her parent’s house,” hongjoong pauses, “because she couldn’t deal with the atmosphere you created.”

seonghwa runs out, ignoring whatever hongjoong mused at him. in his mind, he had to see you and so he walked to the stables and rode a horse to the town, where you were.

“have you already thought of a name?” you glance shortly at your mother, who cupped her face in her hands, eyes blinking, wide and bright.

“no,” you respond, focusing on the mandarin you were peeling before tossing it in your mouth.

you heard her sigh, and she holds your hand. “y/n, what’s going on,” her warm voice asked, and you shook your head.

“nothing,” you ate another piece and then your mother smacks your hand lightly.

“i know something is!” she exclaims, “you and seonghwa fought, didn’t you?”

“we did,” you confess, and she shoots you a look. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” with that you get up and walk away, ignoring the calls of your name.

you find purchase in sitting on the swinging couch in the small garden your family had, throwing your head back and looking off into nothing. your white dress hung off the swing, arms resting on the armrest.

your mother watches you and elicits a sigh, her body leans on the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest as she watches you with a bitter smile.

when sunset falls around, you’re holding onto a sword. swinging it with one hand while your dad prepares the grill in the back, trying not to burn down the house.

when you sit down to eat, you’ve forgotten about everything. sitting and just eating whatever was on the table, with a content smile you eat doubles of everything.

once it’s over and you’re walking over to your room, your mother pulls you into the kitchen randomly. your wide eyes scan her, and she holds a box of strawberries, nudging it at you.

“oh, thank you,” you grab the box from her, “how’d you know i’ve been craving these.”

your mother smiles knowingly, watching you pop one in your mouth with a grin.

“seonghwa dropped by,” you slowly look up, swallowing.

“okay,” you squeak out, eyes flickering to wall behind.

she then leans back, “he brought the strawberries,” you paused, “he said you would be craving them.”

with a frustrated sigh you put the box on the counter, your mother leaves the room, and you glance at the strawberry you held in your hand.

the only person who knew you were wanting these were san, who you sent at the ungodly hours of night to the market. considering that, seonghwa would have no idea about this unless san told him, which was unlikely, or seonghwa watched over you.

you run to grab your jacket and leave your house to walk to the palace. frowning at the audacity of this man, who can’t seem to talk to you up front and instead becomes a coward.

you march inside the property, dismissing the stares you were getting because first, you’re in the palace, second, you’re marching in furiously and third because you’re not exactly wearing the clothes seeing the weather.

you knew seonghwa wouldn’t be in his new room, so your best option was to barge in his office. and that’s exactly where he was, standing and glancing out the windows.

“park seonghwa,” you burst in through the door, eyes falling on his tall figure dressed in black, leaning on the window frame.

he glances over his shoulder before looking out the window, his eyes are shut and his fingers grip the frame.

“what are you doing?” you say, “hm? sending those stupid strawberries instead of actually coming to talk to me?”

your clench your jaw at the lack of his response, “why do you suddenly seem to care now when you haven’t spared me a glance in the last two weeks!”

you exhale harshly and walk up to him, grabbing his arm and turning him around. his face shows no emotion, and you push his shoulder, “why! why aren’t you saying something?”

“what do you want me to say?” he responds and you bite the insides of your cheek, hearing his voice after so long, it still shoots butterflies in your stomach.

you stare at him in disbelief, “hwa,” you whined. “what’s wrong with you, i’ve apologized so many times and yet you never say anything!”

you continue, “i know you send those meals by the hands of the maids,” your eyes tear up. “i know you see me around the palace but choose to ignore me, i know you walk by our room every night so that you know i’m inside, i kno-“

“god damn it! do you even know why i went to the war?” you yell, eyes flickering between him and the floor.

“to protect you, you don’t know this but a day before the war.” you pause, contemplating if you really want to say this.

the night before the war, yeosang burst through your office doors, yanking your arm and dragging you to his office without even getting the chance to say hi.

“yeosang, w-what’s going on?” you ask the man holding your wrist, stepping in his room only to see a patient bandaged over his legs, arms and head.

you glance at yeosang in confusion, asking him to explain why exactly he brought you here especially when there’s someone he’s tending to.

before yeosang gets the chance respond, the man in front immediately stands up, hissing and then bowing.

“gener- your highness,” his low and gritty voice goes onto introduce himself, “i can’t reveal my name, but i have to tell you something.”

you exchange glances with yeosang who nods, ushering you to a chair, and he comes to stand behind you.

“what happened to you?” you ask out of worry, eyeing the white bandages over him.

“dorado,” the man says, “dorado is after you.”

you tilt your head, “dorado, the one we all helped?” he nods turning to yeosang.

“they’re the one who will be attacking you, they’ll be planning for night, perhaps in the castle as well.”

he stops, “but your highness, they’re also planning to kill off eden’s heir.”

yeosang watches the man, stunned. “seonghwa? the duke?” and the man nods.

you and yeosang exchange glances before looking at the man in unison. “explain everything to us in detail.”

“a messenger had come to the palace telling me and yeosang, that they were after you! the enemies were going to kill you park seonghwa!” you cry out loud, “and you want me to sit back and watch my husband die when i knew what was going to happen?”

“but no! of course you wouldn’t listen,” you breathe out loud and shaky, “did you want our child to grow without their dad?”

your eyes drop to his hands, the ones he’s gripping the windowsill with. “do you think that i, i would let you die?”

“for the love of god, seonghwa say something!”

tears roll down the apples of your cheeks, the wind coming from the window stinging as the man standing in front of you turns his back. looking out the window in silence, pretending as if there is no one in the room screaming at him.

your shoulders slump down, a hand taking through your hair you shut your eyes in frustration as tears rolled down.

all you could feel was emptiness, frustration, anger and pain.

“the day you quit being a general, is the day everything will go back to normal.” you hear his voice cut through the silence.

you stare wide eyed at the man, mouth parting to form out words but you’re so shocked at what he goes on about that nothing comes out.

“seonghwa,” you grit out, “how dare you.” you spit out with such a tone that it has shivers running up his body.

“how dare you ask me to quit something i have spent my entire life working for.” you stare at him with such disgust and anger that you lift your hands up by your head.

“what you do,” he says, “only brings problems, and going to a war?” he says with a scoff and you shoot him a glare.

“i’ve spent my entire life to protect you, your parents and your home.” you take a step forward, “you,” you point at him, “you wouldn’t even have been alive if not for me, you have no right to tell me what to do, you’ve lost it all.”

you hastily grab your wedding ring, the one he gave to you with such adoration and love. but now it burned into your skin, just like the way his words cut you.

“i’m selfish,” you repeat the words he told you, “i’m horrible, park seonghwa i will show you how selfish and horrible i can be.”

clenching your jaw, you slipped off the wedding ring, griping it in your hands tightly because it hurt, it hurt letting everything go.

“go find yourself a princess, who’ll bear your children and make you happy by not going to a fucking war.”

you slam down the jewelry on his table with such force that you’re sure it will create a mark, he jumps at the sound but never looks back.

you stare at his back for a few beats of silence, “i’ll leave.” you wipe the tears rolling off your cheeks.

“but hear this,” you pause, fists shaking and eyes staring at the shiny ring on the table.

“don’t you ever come looking for me, do you want a divorce? send me the paperwork and i’ll sign it, and then i’ll leave.” you pause to inhale, “i’m sorry to you, and to my baby for putting you two in danger.”

seonghwa spins his head, so fast, eyes wide. “my? ‘my baby’ so i’m nothing, it’s not ours?”

“nothing.” you grit out, “never have, never will.”

“i’ll send a letter when the child’s born, until then, don’t you ever come to me, you had the chance to fix this.” you point your finger at him, “we could’ve fixed this right here, but now, don’t come begging for my forgiveness.”

you turn on your heel and with one last glance over your shoulder. “because i won’t forgive you, this comes from general y/n.”

“goodbye, your highness.”

“yeosang, just go back.”

you stared at the blond, a rag in his hands as he runs everywhere to clean the surroundings.

“t-that won’t happen y/n,” he turns around, leaning his elbow on the table behind. “that’s between you and seonghwa, i’m here as not only a friend but your doctor.”

you lean back on the cushioned chair, “you don’t have to come over every day, i’m fine here alone, really.”

yeosang lets out a sigh, folding the rag and walking forward to sit opposite you. “y/n, i will come over any day i can, the other’s will too, until seonghwa-“

“just don’t,” you stop him, “i don’t want to hear anything from him.”

“y/n.” he gives you a look.

“yeosang.” which you return, pressing your lips together.

he eventually lets out a sigh and then lifts his hands by his side, “you win, whatever.” you grin, grabbing a cushion to throw it at the man, who successfully dodges.

“how long are you planning to stay here?” he quips, blowing the nonexistent dirt of the cushion before ticking an eyebrow at you.

“i...really don’t know,” you shrug, “maybe i just won’t ever return?”

“no, no, you can’t do that!” he immediately interjects. “y/n, you have to understand that as much of an asshole your husband is, you can’t top the asshole level.”

you snort out loud, shaking your head. “is asshole even the right word yeo? he’s left me first, and now i’ve left him.”

“what’s the difference?” you quickly add, finding a particular interest to the carpet.

“you’re still wearing his ring,” he points out and your eyes fly to the black band. “you’re living here as if he won’t find out where y-“

“you won’t tell him nothing,” you add, “neither will you or the guys open your loud mouths in front of that man.”

he shoots his eyebrows to his forehead, an amused smile on his face. “that man,” he mocks, bobbing his head to the side.

you two stay quiet for a few seconds until he speaks once again, “will...will you ever go back to him?”

you chose to stay still, sucking on the insides of your cheek. eyes everywhere except the blond’s who sighs in defeat.

“i’ll ask the workers to send in food supplies every week, i’ll be visiting weekly for your check up and don’t you dare do something stupid when i’m not here.”

you let out a genuine smile, “thank you, yeosang, really.”

he shakes his head with a shy smile, “just don’t die on us, and especially on seonghwa.”

“y/n.”

“hongjoong, i’m not going to go and see him.”

“he’s been asking for you— well to me, more subtly, but you know what i mean.” he grunts, pouring a cup of chamomile tea in the fine china.

ever since the day you left the palace of eden, you found home, not at your parents but the villa seonghwa had owned. the balmoral villa, the one by the seashore, the one you two talked about and the one where you wanted to raise your children in.

it had a rustic feel from the outside, but the inside was modern royalty. when you first entered at night, a large portrait of you and seonghwa hung over the fireplace, on the tall walls welcomed you.

it looked so intimidating at night, but when the moonlight shines through the large windows, it looked ethereal. a picture of you sitting and seonghwa standing behind you framed in gold.

you stared at it for a few minutes before eventually leaving, walking around the small villa, to see every nook of it.

but your favourite was the master bed, where a balcony connected to the outside. a view of the sea, with mountains caving in to make it seem private. you saw the silent horizon that day, so dark and brooding but so calming.

you’ve stayed here for around a week now, and your favourite thing was to stay awake until the late hours of the night. a warm cup of tea in hand, a mahogany fleece blanket wrapped around you and your eyes stuck on the single lighthouse in the distance.

a lighthouse in the middle of nowhere, lonely, just like you.

“i couldn’t care less hongjoong, let him ask for me, keep telling him lies.” you sip on the hot tea, shuddering a little.

“but we can’t keep doing that,” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“and what he did to me was right?” you interject, “hongjoong, imagine your husband blatantly ignoring you throughout one the hardest points in pregnancy.”

“and then, sending a stupid box of strawberries as a what? compensation? and when he could’ve fixed things, he tells me to quit being a general.”

“he cares for you y/n.”

you shake your head, “does he? he cares for our baby, i don’t matter hongjoong.”

“and as much as i know me, i wouldn’t dare hurt my child like that. if i don’t matter to him, what’s the point in going back?”

the man in front stays quiet, silently agreeing to whatever you were saying because you were right. his friend had just lost a piece of his mind that he can’t seem to get back right now, your anger is valid.

hongjoong winces at the fact that seonghwa seemed to forget, that the mother comes first, if there is no mother, then there is no child.

you, have endured almost everything. hongjoong glances at you, remembering what you’ve been through not only from the military but even now and yet you set out with a smile.

“if he’ll come back to his senses,” you shrug, “would you forgive him?”

you let out a tired sign, glancing at the man who stared at you. “i don’t know hongjoong, all i know is i don’t want to see him.”

he nods, bringing the cup to his lips. “how’s your health, you know, the kid.”

he watches your face brighten, a hand immediately resting on your stomach. “there’s a little bit of a bump forming, it’s cute.”

he grins against the cup whispering a, “he would’ve been over the moon,” before lifting his eyes to you, “i think the child’s a girl.”

“really?” you ask, wide eyed. “well, whoever the child is, as long as they stay healthy it doesn’t bother me.”

he smiles one again, slowly standing up. instructing you to take your meds, cook food and make sure to eat and lock all the doors and only then fall asleep.

you nod to every single one of them, grabbing his shoulders before literally pushing him outside because the man wouldn’t shut up.

once he leaves, you lock the big doors and press your back against them. sighing as your eye’s glances around the entrance lobby, your thoughts twisted to seonghwa.

“idiot,” you mutter, lowly but it echoes the room. craning your neck down, your eyes landed on your stomach. “your dad’s a big idiot, you know? i hope you don’t go on him.”

“seonghwa.”

“yes,” he stares, “father.”

the older man folds his hands on his knees, “where is y/n?”

seonghwa blinks, flickering his eyes from his fathers to the wall behind. “s-uh, i think she’s at her parents.”

“you think?” he tilts his head when his son doesn’t respond and instead chooses to keep his head down.

“seonghwa,” he starts, “i haven’t seen her around for a few weeks now.” the statement comes off more as threat, as if interrogating the man, eyeing his son with a stern face.

“and you don’t know where she is?”

when seonghwa does decide to open his mouth, his father beats him too it. “fath-“

“you imbecile, she’s your wife! she’s pregnant and carrying your child!”

he flinches at the sudden raise in volume, “but father, she’s-“

“no, i’m not going to hear anything from you.” he interrupts him, “go find her, if something happens to her. park seonghwa you best believe you’re dead.”

seonghwa swallows once his father leaves the room, bringing his head in his hands. shutting his eyes for a brief second only to be fly them open when hongjoong walks in.

“seonghwa what are you doing?” he barges in angrily, taking a seat in front of him. “what big of an idiot are you!”

“hongjoong, if you’re here to lecture me about y/n,” he starts, “then leave.”

hongjoong narrows his eyes at him, “do you know she’s not at her parent’s house?”

“w-what,” he cracks, “then where is she? she was at her parent-“

“was,” hongjoong interrupts, “what is going on with you seonghwa?”

“since when did you,” he raises his fingers to point at the man, “become like this?”

“lo-“

“no, you listen.” he puts a hand up, “seonghwa, you and y/n are married.”

“you’ve, okay, not liked each other at first but somewhere along the line you two have fallen for each other without realizing and it only got deeper!”

seonghwa sits quietly, “you love her, i know you do. everyone knows you do, and even y/n does, so why the hell are you doing this? isn’t it only bringing pain?”

hongjoong watches the man’s face twist into different emotions before continuing again, “seonghwa, grow up. you two have been married for almost two and a half years, and just a war broke it all?”

“the war, if she got hurt then what?” seonghwa finally speaks, “what would i have done without her? what would i have done without our child?”

“it’s her job! be it she’s pregnant or not, she knows better, she knows what protective measures she’s got to take just to protect the small life she’s got inside of her, she’s not a general for nothing!”

“you’re not making anything easy either, you’re forgetting that you love her!” hongjoong lifts his voice, “your mind is stuck on the baby and it’s health! but did it ever cross you how you’ve been forgetting y/n?”

“did you care about y/n getting hurt or only the kid? you yelled and screamed at her for taking your child to the war when all she wanted was to protect the father of her child!”

“did you forget that, the mother comes first?” he lowers his voice, stern yet powerful. “you doing this will ruin your already strained relationship with y/n, and it will affect her health.”

when seonghwa stares at him with his mouth parted, hongjoong stands up and jabs his pointer finger in his chest.

“do you realize what you’ve done seonghwa?”

“fuck,” seonghwa whispers, “oh god.”

“you told her to quit something she’s been doing longer than she’s been married to you,” he grits out.

“i-i did,”

“you yelled at her for getting injured, you didn’t care, you only cared for the child.”

“i did, o-oh my god.”

“you ignored her during when she needed you the most, did you know she cried, she cried because of you?”

“then what am i supposed to do!” seonghwa lets out, breathing heavily. “she came to me the other week and all i did was nothing, i stood while she cried for me to fix things.”

“but you only made it worse.”

“but i only made it worse.”

“hongjoong,” he swallows, eyes getting watery. “what do i do? i don’t deserve her, she won’t come back, s-she’s gone i won’t ever see her hongjoong. what do i do, what have i done— hong-“

hongjoong brings his hands over the taller man’s shoulders. “quiet down.”

“no, no i can’t do that.” he shakes his head, “if she’s not at her parent’s house, then you.” he grips hongjoong’s hands, “you know where she is.”

“please tell me where she is, please.”

he sighs, “seonghwa, only you know where she is.”

“i-i don’t, i really don-“

“what was her favourite place?”

“just te-“

“think seonghwa, think.”

“i can’t, i just want to see her already!”

“where did she want to spend the rest of her life with you?”

seonghwa pauses, “by the sea.” and it finally hits him like a truck. “fuck, she’s at balmoral!”

and immediately a bright grin covers his crying face, “she’s at balmoral, the villa she wanted to raise our kids at!” he brings a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes as he feels the final tears drop down.

“what are you waiting for then, go on.”

the excitement in him swirls, wiping his eyes he pulls the shorter man in a hug. “hongjoong you’re the best, thank you, i lov-“

“get out.”

“i’ll drop by with groceries in a few hours, stay inside the weathers not good!”

“yes, yeosang now go!” you pushed the laughing man outside, waving your hand as he walks to the car with a smile.

you skipped on your toes lightly, humming as you make your way inside. hearing the rapid pitter patter of your dog running to you, nuzzling his face in your leg as you walked.

you plop yourself on the couch, placing your arms on the armrest and your doberman comes to lay by your feet. switching on a movie while a scented candle’s scent made it’s way around the room, a calming scent of warm vanilla.

eerily similar to seonghwa’s, you sighed at that. unconsciously your eyes land on your stomach, caressing it lightly.

you find yourself not focusing on the movie but on the man you married, your eyes then shift to the entrance lobby. you’d do this every day, maybe a small hope burning inside you said that the said man would walk in.

bring you in his arms, place a chaste kiss on your lips— but that’s where you’d stop thinking. clenching your jaw at the thought of him, you’re mad at him, furious even.

but you still want to see him, yet you don’t know how you’ll react once you do. your eyes then shift to the portrait of you two, at the happiest you two were at.

big smiles decorating your face, so warm and happy and inviting unlike now.

a tired sigh leaves your mouth, slowly getting up to walk down to the sea but halt once your eyes land on the window. shifting the curtain to the side, fat water droplets hit the glass from the heavy rain.

the blue ocean now darker like the sky, moving slowly but scarily. just as you’re about to turn around, the sound of the doorbell ringing stops you and a smile graces your lips.

“yeosang, i’m in the living area!” you yell, quickly tidying up the couch. “come on inside!”

you dog immediately gets on his feet, scurrying away to bark at the door. but he won’t, he knows it’s yeosang.

“yeosang! come in!” you say again, this time with furrowed eyebrows and a hesitant walk to the door.

the doorbell rings once again, “you have the keys yeo,” you mutter lowly, unlocking the door and just as you open the door, the ground from underneath you feels as if it’s slipping.

“y/n.”

you take a step back, hands falling to your side and your eyes fall upon the man you hadn’t seen in weeks.

you’re just staring at him; he takes a step towards you, and you back up. a feeling of panic swirls in your chest, not because you didn’t want to see him but because you didn’t think it would be so soon.

“y-your highness.”

there’s no reaction on your face, but his eyes are wide and glossy as if he just had cried, or from the rain pouring down his face. his lips twitch at the corners but falter down.

“i’m sorry.”

you feel as if your heart is about to burst out because of how fast it’s beating, a warm lump forming your throat that’s so hard to swallow down. his dark hair shadow over his eyes, shinning under the night light just outside.

he’s standing in a black shirt that’s now clung onto him, and you know it’s a very wrong time, but you can’t help but stare at him up and down.

“why are you here?” your voice comes out on tone that’s barely above a whisper, fingers gripping your dress.

“y/n please, just give me chance,” he pleads, and you hear the desperation in his voice.

you step backwards when he tries to hold onto your hand, back enough that he’s standing inside now. the water from outside following inside, and your eyes stare into his.

“please, please y/n i’m so sorry.”

“you need to go away, you’re not supposed to be here.” you manage to say out loud but it doesn’t affect him the slightest.

“y/n,” his low voice rings the hall, “i’m terrible, i know. but please don’t let go, i’m an idiot that didn’t hear you or fix things when you were there.”

“i ignored you when you were in pain and i only made it worse, i made it so easy for you to hate me y/n.”

“the weathers not great, go back please.”

he shakes his head, finally taking a stride towards you and you stay still. his tall self hovers over you and you shut your eyes, inhaling his scent that you thought you’d never smell again.

“please y/n,” he clasps onto your hand, his cold fingers holding into your warmer hand.

“please what?” you say, “y-you’ve done nothing but hurt me, when i went to the war for you, all for you.”

“i didn’t want you to die...i never did,” you look away, “i knew you’d be mad but not the point where you didn’t even look at me.”

“did you know how much it hurt?” lowering your eyes as if it would hide the tears pooling in. “you said you’d be by my side, that we would raise our kids together.”

you let out a humourless laugh, “but it’s as if that never existed,” you finally look at him, who’s staring at you intently and you swallow.

“did you even want to be-“

“i wanted to be there for all of it,” he cuts you, eyes flickering with a dark glint that displayed pain. “i wanted to be there for it all y/n, but i was selfish.”

you don’t realize that your lips are trembling, holding onto your emotions from pouring out. yes, you two had an argument but that doesn’t stop how you feel about him—

“i love you.”

“stop it.” you barely manage to whisper out, that three worded sentence making your insides swoop, shuddering as the cold wind made its way inside.

he shakes his head and you see the tears roll down his cheeks, “i’m sorry y/n, i don’t deserve you, i will never des-“

“please just shut up.”

“i put you and our child in dang-“

“why do you say you put me and our baby in danger?” he says between his sobs, “when you were the one in danger? hm? does your life not matter? your life is the most precious thing to me, are you insane? why do you hurt yourself like this?”

he then kneels on his knees and your eyes widen, only for the water collected in your eyes to fall. you’re standing and he kneels by your feet, head thrown down as both your emotions match.

he keeps shaking his head, lips letting choked sobs as his shoulders shake. “y/n, please, i’m so sorry, i- please just come back, please.” he begs between sniffles.

you shake your head slowly, biting down on your lips. “n-no, not right now.”

he holds onto your hand and brings it to his lips, you try to jerk it back but he lifts his head up. his red and swollen and puffy, nose red and lips parted.

he manages to smile a little, he glances at the band resting on your fingers. you bring your hand back, “you need to leave, just go away.”

“i’m an idiot, please don’t stay away from me-“ he pauses midway, eyeing your tear filled eyes and then on the small bump of your stomach.

and it only breaks him down more, a shaky hand coming to cup his mouth. eyes flickering from yours to the little bump you have, salty tears prickle down his eyes.

“i-is that...” he hiccups, “ours?”

you swallow hard and it only makes everything worse because you yourself choke out a sob. he watches through wonder and tears, knowing that inside was what you and he created.

he wipes the tears by back his hand, timidly bringing a hand to your stomach but before it does, you take a step back.

“y/n, please.”

“your highness, it’s raining out heavily, please go back to eden before the storm worsens.” lifting your head to look out the door, seeing a car in the car distance, presumably the one he used to come here.

“no,” he pauses, “not without you, and not without our little one.”

“you should’ve thought about that months ago, your highness.” you turn around, and he watches you walk away from him with desperate eyes.

“stop talking like that to me,” he says between sniffles, “since when did you go back to be-“

“a general?” you turn your head to the side, “the second you told me to call you ‘your highness’.”

“leave,” you say, turning your head to the side because you couldn’t look at him. “when our child’s born, i’ll handwrite you a letter to let you know.”

“now please,” you pause, “leave your highness.”

“y/n please, just p-“

“leave.” you say out tiredly, holding onto the couch to support your weight. “go away, seonghwa.”

his eyes widen at your words, using his name brought a certain amount of weight onto him, closing his eyes for a brief second, he stands up, wobbly.

“y/-“

you turn around so fast that in seconds you’re pushing him out the door, ignoring his begging, pleadings, and desperate calls for your name.

you slam the door shut, closing your eyes, and lulling your back. you hear him scream and wail your name repeatedly, but you clench your jaw, closed your eyes and pressed your back against the door.

the two men outside, yunho and mingi watch their duke kneel on his knees. one hand on the door as he calls out your name, they wipe their own tears before walking to seonghwa, holding onto two black umbrellas.

building a shield over the man, the two exchange a look. yunho decides to hold onto seonghwa’s shoulder.

“just give her some time seonghwa,” mingi says, flinching at the sudden thunderstorm.

yunho shakes his head, “i’m sorry, but you had a chance, you let it go too quick.”

both the boys pull seonghwa away from the doorstep, his head hung low as hot tears streamed down his face. he doesn’t bother fighting them and lets them drag him back to the car.

sparing your window one last glance, hoping that you would be standing there. watching him leave, but you didn’t. you couldn’t look at him in the eye.

you sat down on your desk, the one in the small office. where a large window pooled in sunlight, the desk you say at now covered with coloured papers and stickers and pictures.

a scrapbook, what yeosang said would be a good thing to pass time instead of sparring swords alone or walking your dog down the small town.

the book was rather small, but it did the job. you’ve been writing your experiences with the baby in it, from when you were too sick or intense cravings at five in the morning or when there was excessive back pain.

you were now a little over four months, you had jotted all the entry’s down, pairing it up with stickers and felt pen designs. you’d always end the entry with the date and time, so that maybe in future you could look back at it.

but when you would swivel your chair around, your eyes would land upon the new set of roses sitting on the far desk. everyday you’d get something by your door or by the hands of yeosang.

“here you go,” he’d chuck it at you when walking by, and you knew it was seonghwa sending all these.

so, you would send them back politely through yeosang’s hands, who would glare at you for making him run back and forth.

“oh my god y/n, this is the third time you’ve asked me to send these back to your lover boy!”

“and you will!” you grin, “thank you!”

he sighs and grabs the roses from you, “i’m not going to be stalling this for long, one day i might just do something that you wouldn’t have excepted.”

“sure, sure.”

maybe you should’ve listened to him, because the scrapbook you made documenting your pregnancy had been sent off into the hands of seonghwa.

“you what!” you said, wide eyed.

yeosang shrugged, “i told you, you two need to sort it out.”

you’d throw a finger in the air for him, and he’d laugh mockingly, before one day the doorbell had rang and a person stood on the other side, holding a giant bouquet yellow flowers in front of their face.

“excuse me?”

and then the flowers were shoved down a little revealing, “you?”

seonghwa, of course, standing there with a big grin on his face.

“hi,” he says and then walk past you inside, “the house is still in good condition, how was everything?”

“why are you here?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing.

he grins, takes a small step, and crosses his arms over his chest. “well, my wife lives here and she’s pregnant and i’m here to take care of her.”

you let out a scoff, “oh yeah? i think you’ve got the wrong house.”

“oh, i’m sure i’ve got the right one.” he smiles, coming closer to you and then snaking a hand around your waist, pulling you to his chest.

“y/n,” his low voice mumbles, “i’ll be staying here with you, whether you like it or not.”

you crane your neck up to meet his eyes, and when you did, he smiles brightly and then pecks your nose quickly and then he’s off of you.

turning around, placing his hands on his waist, and nodding at every room. while you stood in the middle with wide eyes, and a cozy feeling in your stomach.

seonghwa watches you brush past him, and he smiles. looking around before settling his eyes on the large portrait, his eyes turn into crescents when he stares at it.

thanking yeosang for mailing him the scrapbook, he remembers it being chucked at his face and before he could get the chance to yell, the blond man had already walked out.

he hesitantly flipped through the entire book, eyes widening when he realizes that is your handwriting and you’re documenting the pregnancy. he finds it hard not to tear up, making sure to read everything written on. and from that’s where he would send you flowers every day, as it said that you liked smelling them this time around. or sending prepped meals, baby clothes, clothes for you and more.

he’s decided that you may not forgive him easily, he’ll still be by your side, to fill in the hole he left when he wasn’t there.

so he makes sure to wake up before you every day, cooking your breakfast, lunch and dinner. doing the cleaning, laundry and looking over you from afar when you would go out a walk.

the only thing missing was, well, your voice.

because you didn’t say a single word to him for the days, he’s been doing this, nonchalantly walking past him or pretending he isn’t even in the villa.

you’d quietly eat the food being made for you, although not saying anything verbally, he already knows what you would say.

sometimes he’d get lucky hearing you talk, precisely when he had started to sleep on the couch because he wanted to give you your outmost privacy.

“your highness,” he grins ear to ear, “this isn’t necessary, go back to your duties in eden.”

“my duty is you, y/n.” he says with a slight tilt of his head, catching the slight widening of your eyes.

“it is-“

“no, never, don’t say a word.” he comes to stand right in front of you, “i’m never leaving you out of my sight again, i’ll stay here with you not caring if you hate me or not.”

your stomach would flip at the words and sometimes you think it’s the baby reacting to their fathers’ words.

“your-“

“seonghwa,” he interrupts, “but hwa could work too.” he shrugs his shoulders with a pout.

with a wink he would walk past you, doing something in the house and you’d groan before locking yourself in your bedroom once again.

but recently you’ve been leaving your door slightly ajar, or well seonghwa had told you too, forcibly. knowing that if you would be in some type of pain, he wouldn’t have to break the door down and would rather just barge in.

you silently agreed because the night prior you had a slight pain shooting from your stomach, not that serious, but bad enough for you to slip out a few low groans.

so, you didn’t expect to be up at four in the morning, turning on the bed constantly before sitting up tight and immediately feeling an immense amount of pain shoot through you.

you figured it was the surprise movement or the contractions, or whatever because you really couldn’t think right now. your brain screamed at you to get up, but all you could do was groan loudly.

you shift in an effort to make it better, but it only makes it worse, and it’s as if your grunts were so loud you heard rapid footsteps running down the hallway.

“y/n!”

you bite down on your lips, clutching the sheets as the pain doubled. squeezing your eyes shut on impulse but they shoot open just as the door breaks open.

there stood a heavily breathing seonghwa, eyes widened, and mouth parted. he yelled your name once again, this time coming by you.

he cringes at your pain and panics, eyes frantically searching your face before he helps you sit up.

“it’s o-okay,” his shaky hands brush your hair away, “stay still i’ll be right back!”

“the medicine is top left drawer!” you manage to yell, falling back on the bed while one hand rested on your forehead.

“hurry up!” you yell, grunting and groaning until seonghwa zooms in right beside you.

he slowly helps you sit up, holding your hand tightly as he kept mumbling sweet nothings. he hands you the medicine and you gulp it down, he holds onto you firmly, brushing away the strands of hair.

you hold onto his shoulders, trying not to let out a scream of pain. he welcomes the tight grip you have on him and places a hand behind your head, lowering it to his shoulder.

his other hand softly rubs your back as you squeeze your eyes shut, “i-it hurts,”

he hums, swallowing and then tucking your face in his neck. “you’re alright baby, you’re okay, you’re with me.” he mumbles against your ear and you tighten your hold onto him.

“get away from me,” you grit out, “go get yeosang.”

he immediately nods, not wanting to leave pull away from the embrace. “o-of course, i’m sorry. do you need anything else? anything at all?”

you shake your head, “get the doctor, get yeosang and get away from me.”

“but you’re hurting,” his quips, voice full of uncertainty. “i’m not going to leave y/n.”

“j-just go.” you push his chest away, curling your fingers around your dress instead.

he nods shakily, “alright, i’ll go get yeosang, if you need any-“

“just go!”

your loud yell makes him flinch and sighs softly, letting go of your body knowing he’s the one to blame of this situation. he stands up, looks over at you in worry before walking out the door.

“alright y/n, i’ll go get him.”

you fall back immediately, wanting for it all to stop. curling up in a fetal position you hold onto the pillow until yeosang comes, seonghwa watches you from the door.

one hand holding the phone to his ear while his eyes flickered glints of pain, he hears every instruction the man says. biting down on his lips, he watches your expression morph into relief, and he thinks the pains over.

he watches you fall asleep, walking in quietly and then lifting the blanket up till your shoulders. bunching up your hair, out of your face.

his knuckles brush lightly against your cheek, and he shudders, “i’m sorry,” he whispers “please forgive me.” and then lowers his face, pecking your cheek for a brief second and then places a pillow by your back.

he finds himself sitting outside your room, the door to your room slightly open. he thinks in case of another situation like this, he’ll be able to get inside quicker to rush to your aid.

he backs himself to the wall right by the door, straightening his legs and then closing his eyes until morning hits.

when you wake up the next day, your eyes hastily glance at the clock. cursing lowly at how late you’ve woken up, groaning and then getting up to freshen yourself up.

when you walk out, you pause when your eyes fall upon seonghwa sitting on the floor, sleeping.

you clear your throat, “your highness, hey.” you tap your feet on the wood twice. when he doesn’t move, you bite the insides of your cheek and then glance left and right.

slowly lowering yourself to his eye-level, your eyes fall over his face. cheeks swished against his shoulder, hair over his eyes and his lips all pink and pouty.

you find yourself smiling, lifting your hand out and brushing his hair to the side. doing so only made butterflies erupt inside you, caressing his forehead lightly you feel tears trickle in your eyes.

“why do you do this hwa?” you whisper to yourself, “you’re a big idiot you know, i hope our kid doesn’t go on you.”

you poke his cheek, “you made me cry a lot you know?” and then poke his pillowy lips.

“i should hate you,” you whisper, “i do, don’t get me wrong.”

you sniffle a little and then dare to bring your face close to his, quickly wanting to place a peck on his forehead and then leave and then pretend a different nothing had happened.

when you inch closer, his eyes shoot open and he grabs you by the waist, making you fall onto his lap.

your eyes widen, “h-hey! seo- your highness, this is inappropriate!”

he grips your waist, “and what you did wasn’t?” you stare into his eyes and then look away.

“this is how we’re supposed to be y/n,” he says softly, “i love you, i still love you with every fiber in body. i’ll have it engraved to my tombstone, so even death can’t do us apart.”

he inches closer, lips grazing your neck. “so, miss general, please let me back in.”

you stay quiet, looking off into the hallway before shoving his hands away. “go sit at the table, i’ll make the breakfast this time.”

and that’s when he smiles big, squealing and then tucking his face in your neck. giving you a tight hug before letting you go; you hear his excited giggles while you walk away with a small smile.

“whose shirt is that?” the minute you walk out the shower seonghwa questions you.

sitting on the couch, a book in hand and legs crossed. he watches you walk out, in a white shirt, wet hair and his black ring that brought a smile on his lips.

“where’s yeosang?” you ask, grabbing a glass of water and bringing it up to your lips.

“that’s his shirt?!” he yells, eyes widening he stands up.

you throw him a glance, “i said where’s yeosang?”

“who’s fucking shirt is that?” he smirks, coming up behind you till he’s front is pressed against your back.

“it’s mine, what’s your deal.” you hear him let out a low hum, snaking a hand around your waist. his eyes fall on the collar, and he ticks ups an eyebrow.

and then smiled shyly, resting his chin on your shoulder he brings both his arms around you, intertwining his hands at your front.

“you could’ve told me if you wanted more of my shirts,” he mumbles, “this ones kind of boring hm?”

you grip the glass tightly at that, flickering your eyes from the table to the ground. and then you feel him press against your back, making you shiver.

he kisses your neck and softly taps your stomach, “i’ll be home later, okay?” you inhale sharply the minute you feel his warmth leave and then groan.

when he comes back, the house is quiet. grinning to himself he walks to change in his night clothes, and then jumps onto the couch.

he lets out a sigh of relief, knowing he clocked the doors and you’re fast asleep, and the progress between your relationship is working to a good end.

he brings his hands behind his head and leans back, leaning into the couch as he shut his eyes.

and it’s as if ten minutes later, his eyes shoot open when he hears a call for his name. he shakes his head and looks around, when he doesn’t hear anything, he pulls the blanket above his head.

but then just two minutes later, he hears a louder cry for his name. this time he yanks the blanket down, panic swirling in his chest once he hears a louder groan.

he stands up, glancing at the clock, frowning at the later hours of might. he quietly walks himself down the hallway to your room, eyes widening when he hears the voices coming from your room.

he steps closer and brings his ear against the door, eyes widening when he hears your low moans for his name. his hand rests in the doorknob and just as he’s about to twist it, he pauses when he hears a breathy call of his name.

his eyebrows furrow, “y/n?” he calls out in worry.

you pause, biting your lip when you hear his voice. you glance down at your fingers against your folds and then to the door, “d-don’t come in!”

you lean yourself against the bed frame, inching your fingers closer to your wet folds and then slowly starting to move them.

“why? what’s going on?”

you hear him say just as you fasten the speed, biting down on your lip so that a mewl won’t escape.

“seonghwa,”

he stops and then he groans, “shit, y/n, baby let me in.”

and you push your fingers in, shuddering as you pumped in and out. your other hand travels to your breast, softly kneading while your fingers worked in and out of you.

he knocks on the door, pressing himself against the door when he hears you moan out his name. swallowing when he hears the pretty voices of yours, he hasn’t heard in a while.

“y/n,” he says lowly, and you cry his name out, he finds himself closing his eyes and letting out shaky breaths.

“seonghwa,” you cry out loudly and the doorknob shakes, parting your lips as you let out a silent scream.

“fuck,” he groans, his own self getting impatient. “baby, open the door for me.”

you shake your head as if he could see you, feeling the wetness starting to pool out of you. your chest heaving up and down while your mouth keys out pretty voices that has his cock twitching in his pants.

“baby, louder,” he says, “i can’t hear you.”

and as if on demand, you whine out loudly. he curls his fists, trying to control himself to not barge in until you say so.

“y/n, let me in please.” he begs, biting his lips, hard enough to perhaps draw blood.

“d-don’t.” you let out shakily, shutting your eyes as the heat started to coil up in your stomach.

“but i can make you feel so good,” he says breathily, “i know that body like my own cock.”

you mewl at his words, “just go away!” you squirm, “or stay put.”

abs he chooses the second option, looking down at the tent forming in his pants before looking at the door.

he finds himself getting needy, palming his own cock slowly. closing his eyes and leaning back on the door, mouth parting when he hears your voices.

he tries to imagine you but whines when he can’t, “y/n,” he says once again, shutting his eyes as he feels his cock twitch.

and then there’s silence from the other side, he places a hand on the doorknob and twists it and to his surprise the door opens wide.

he turns around and inhales sharply when he sees you sitting on the bed, your fingers inside your pussy and moans.

he walks inside when you stare at him, your legs shut close when he stands by the end of your bed. his eyes showing a dark glint and teeth gnawing on his bottom lip, he then gets a hold onto your ankles and pulls you to the end.

you let out a surprise yelp when he spreads your legs wide, he shuts his eyes and rests his forehead on yours. “please let me fuck you properly baby,” he grits out and you whimper, “let me make you feel good.”

he kneels down and placed his larger hands on your thighs, “y/n, look here.” you look away as the heat rushes to your cheeks, you close your legs, but he holds onto them and spreads them wider.

“no baby, let me see this, it’s all for me.” he then trails a finger down your clit and you shiver, he then lowers himself close to your already wet and needy center.

“tell me to stop right now and i will,” he looks straight at you, fiddling with your dress as bunches it up.

“can i?” his hot breath fans against your inner thighs and you close your eyes, “c-“

“yes, just hurry up!” you say out loudly and he smirks, holding onto your waist he dips his head between your legs and you cry out at the sensitively from your previous high.

you lay back on the bed, elbows holding you up as he dives his tongue inside of you. lapping at different speeds and eating you out as if the man has been starved for days.

“shit,” you whine, “h-hwa.”

“so pretty,” he says in between, diving his tongue in making you let out a moan for his name that has his cock twitch, and he moves in and out of you skillfully.

alternating from long slow licks to small circles with his fingers to his tongue lapping sinfully against your clit until he's had his fingers easily sliding in and out of you.

you close your legs, and he growls lowly, using his hands to part them as he finds a particular interest in sucking on the nerves that have you rolling your eyes back.

“c-close,” you whine out and he delivers a particular harsh suck that has you screaming his name and coming off your high.

he places hot trails of kisses by your inner thighs and then looks up at you, your head thrown back, chest heaving up and down heavily and the sweat lined against you.

he then stands up to hover of you, your eyes shut tight, and he smiles. “y/n,” he places his lips onto yours, you respond back after a few seconds and he smiles, finally feeling them on his.

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, “i’m sorry,” he mumbles against your lips and you pull back to rest your head back.

“i’m sorry too,” you mutter, he tucks his face in your neck, wrapping his arm around yours.

“i’m the one at fault,” he says, “you don’t need to apologize.”

you hum, running your hand through his hair. “will you let me back in?” you hear his quiet voice by your ear.

“seonghwa, i’m horny right now,” he chuckles, “you saying that sentence is making me think dirty thoughts.”

“do you want me go in?” he asks, purely out of playfulness.

“hm, do it right now.” you mumble lazily and he shoots his head up.

“are you serious?” he asks, genuinely surprised at your words.

you nod, “i heard pregnancy sex is the best, i want to try it.”

he laughs at your straightforward manner and shakes his head, “baby i don’t want to hurt you,” he moves his hand to your stomach. “or our little one inside.”

“just do it,” you open your eyes to meet his shiny ones, “i won’t let you do later on.”

he puckers his lips, “but won’t it hu-“

“no, it won’t, trust me.” you say, “hurry up!”

he shakes his head, “not right now baby, let’s do it next time.”

you laugh, “next time?” you shake your head, “no next time hwa.”

“just one? what about the five kids we wanted?” you smack his shoulder and then cup his cheeks.

“park seonghwa, the next time you do shit like this i’ll break you.”

he grins, swooping you up in his arms. you yelp but wrap your arms around his neck anyways. he has a grin on his lips that you haven’t seen in a while and it makes you feel as if everything’s settled, he glances at you from time to time and you see the same love you used too.

when you two lay on your bed side by side, he seems to have a permanent pout on his face as he sulks in your neck. you smile and lift your hands to run through his hair, he wraps his arm around your waist and nuzzles into you.

he places a soft peck on your neck before getting comfortable, bringing the blankets up and nuzzling into you. his hand rests on your stomach, caressing it lightly before falling asleep beside you. this was the best sleep you two had gotten, in a while.

and the next morning it’s as if his demeanor changed, he woke up before you but stayed in bed to admire your face. his lips met your forehead, nose, and then your lips as he looked at the glow shinning on your face.

he helps you with your sickness, doing chores that would usually be easier for you, bringing you all the strawberries and meals he had.

and you returned it with having him to run across town to bring you that one thing you ate months ago or shoving him inside the shower fully clothed because you thought he smelled weird, three times.

or him borrowing that book of names from your dad, that he reads every day before sleeping, suggesting you to name the child a name he heard in a movie.

or when he visits the town to bring home little clothes, shoes, hats and socks for your unborn child. he comes in giggling while holding bags full of stuff he bought, he then compares the sizes between his ginormous clothes to the baby ones.

he caresses your stomach one in a while, mumbling how, “good you look filled up with me.” and you smack his arm away.

how when you bump had finally grown more, you screamed his name and lifted your shirt. he came in running, a spoon in his mouth and the plate of pasta he held now chucked to the side.

he pokes at your stomach and feels the bump, kneeling in front of you. when he kisses your stomach, it usually ends up with him crying because he’s way too excited, more excited than you.

and when the guys noticed the bump, they all squealed so loud. especially mingi who seemed to be the most excited out of all, also who seonghwa had to shoo away.

the guys walk in at any given time of the day, sometimes when seonghwa has to tend to his duties, one of the guys would come and keep you company. cracking jokes or guessing the gender or the name you had thought off.

it’s as if time slipped, and your belly was even more swollen. yeosang who comes for your daily checkup, jumps on his feet whenever he feels the baby kick through his stethoscope.

“you’ll be due soon,” he’d say, and it only made you more nervous, because you had heard about the pain one experiences, or how some don’t make it through, or if you would be a good m-

“what’s your pretty little head thinking?” you break off from your trance to look at seonghwa, who laid beside you on the bed.

your hand reaches up to your belly, “nothing, just wondering who the kid will go on.”

he smirks at that, “on me of course, they’ll take my good looks and my brains.”

you snarl at the man and bring the sheets up to your chin, getting comfortable and closing your eyes.

but it’s as if god has different plans, at exactly 3:44 your eyes shoot open. your hand goes to your stomach and then you feel it, your water’s broken.

you look at seonghwa who’s sleeping with a content smile and poke his face, “hwa, hwa get up.”

he stirs in his sleep and lazily opens his eyes and hums, “hmm whaat is it, do you want mo stawbehies?”

“no,” you lean down, “my water broke.”

he squishes his cheek against the pillow and mumbles out a soft, “what?”

you roll your eyes, “the baby’s coming!” you yell, “right now!”

and it takes him no time to jump off his bed, he first looks at you wide eyed and mouth hung open. his hands are up by his head as if someone has arrested him and then he screams, loudly.

you’re sure all the lights of the villa are turning on, seonghwa picks you up from the bed and runs down the room you two had prepared beforehand, he lays you down on the bed and when he sees your face contorting into pain he screams, yet again.

“get the midwife!” he yells at himself, running in his doodle filled pyjamas down to grab the midwife.

at this point, everyone’s awake. the maids who are patiently waiting outside in the hallway, both yours and seonghwa’s parents standing by each other guessing who the baby will go on.

the guys who are half awake standing in their matching pyjamas that you bought for them in a group set, betting money on if it’s the gender they guessed on.

seonghwa’s inside the room, walking back and forth as if he’s the one who’s pregnant. the midwife and her workers help fix the room while telling you breathing exercises, you listen to them as you laid comfortably.

“stop running around,” you tell him, your feelings totally contrasting. he’s panicking and you’re sitting all relaxed.

“your highness,” the midwife bows, “you should wait outside.”

“oh no, no, no!” he immediately disagrees, “i’m staying here, by her side.”

“but yo-“

“no questions asked,” he says and you stare at him wide eyed, you’re about to call out for his name but then you feel the pain kicking in.

“seonghwa!” you yell and he’s immediately kneeling by you, running a hand through your hair as the pain worsened.

“it’s happening,” the midwife says, “hold on tight miss general, you’re in for a ride.”

and you scream immediately.

“it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re doing amazing!”

“park seonghwa, shut up!”

“no no, i read this in the books, if i keep talking to you-“ he’s cut off by him screaming as you grip his hand hard.

“i’m never going to let you do this again!” you yell, breathing heavily as a layer of sweat washes over you.

“you’re doing great, breathe, our child’s almost here.” he watches you groan and yell and push and cry and his respect for you grows every second.

he kneels to your face, wiping away the sweat and tears by a towel. “you know, this isn’t the right time, but you look really hot right now.”

you push his face away and yell, the midwife cries out in happiness as she tells seonghwa to do whatever he did once again.

he nods immediately, holding your hand in his. “are you ready for kid number one?”

your eyes grow wide and the midwife screams, “park seonghwa, this is the one and only-“

“one more time! your highness, one more!”

“i know we just had my birthday, but we should have that night aga-“

“no!” you scream, gripping the sheets tightly and shutting your eyes.

he caresses your forehead while holding your hand, “i bet it’s a prin-“

“it’s a princess!” and you hear the crying of a child.

your body falls in a pool of relief, and your eyes cry out a river. your mouths hung open as you breathe in and out, trying to catch your breath.

the midwife comes with a big smile, carrying a small body frame in her arms, with a smile she places the body on your rising chest. your trembling hands hold onto, your daughter, your newborn daughter.

your eyes immediately move to seonghwa’s and find him hiding his face in his arms, you ask him to lift his head up and once he does his eyes water more. you nod and take his hand to bring it over your daughter, his face quickly breaks out into a big smile.

he inches closer and the midwifes move to the bathroom the room for privacy, his eyes fall out fat droplets of tears as he looks at you and then to the small face tucked into a cloth.

his wide eyes turn onto crescents when he notices the baby, her cute chubby cheeks, her little lips and her small little hands.

“s-she,” he sobs, “our daughter.”

you nod and ask him to hold her, he says no at first, telling you that his hands are too big or what if he drops her. you take his hands and then gently hand him your little princess.

“our princess,” he says, eyes flickering to you and to the baby he coddles.

“our daughter, princess of eden, park hwayoung.”

eight months later.

you and seonghwa huddle up together, opening the door to your daughter’s room slowly in hopes that the noise won’t disturb her sleep.

but when you do open the window, she’s standing with her arms leaning over the crib wall. opening her little mouth yawning, stretching her arms over her head dramatically before falling down on her bed.

seonghwa coos beside you and you hurry inside, “hwayoung-ah!” you say, and her eyes fly to yours, widening and sparkling.

damn it, just like her dad.

she lifts her hands up for you to pick her up, once you do, your brush her short hair back and she giggles before pointing at seonghwa who stood behind you, with his arms wrapped around your waist.

“hi princess,” he says and she reaches for his cheeks, planting her small hands on his skin.

“ha!” she says and you laugh, making seonghwa frown.

“it’s da-da hwayoung, not ha!” he whines in your ear, and she does nothing but call him ‘ha’ again.

you smile sheepishly because you know it’s your deeds, you call seonghwa ‘hwa’ so much that your daughter had picked it up too.

but since she’s little and wobbles over her words, she calls him “ha!” instead of “hwa,” which everyone finds too adorable.

she smiles when she sees seonghwa pout, her little giggles filling the room and you realize how grown she had gotten so quick.

you still remember the very first month, both you and seonghwa didn’t leave hwayoung alone for even a second. building a makeshift bed for her in between you two, she’d sleep half her day away.

her hands curled up onto little fists, sleeping like a starfish, her frame wrapped in a yellow duckie blanket gifted to her by mingi.

the second month was when you two really experienced the chaotic energy she had, waking up at the most spontaneous hours of the night, crying and screaming and then laughing and playing the other second.

the third month was when you and seonghwa would have a breakdown, you remember how when you asked seonghwa to change her diaper and he stared at you with horror.

he would use the tip of his fingers to remove the diaper and then with your help change it for her, while she either slept away or moved way too much.

seonghwa still finds it horrifying when he remembers his own stories with hwayoung.

but as months passed by, at five months was when you two heard her say her very first word.

“mama,”

and you cried out of joy, shoving your face into seonghwa’s, celebrating your win over the small contest you two had over who’s name would she say first.

the next shocker you had was when you were in her room, cleaning her toys up and you looked back and saw her standing up on her feet.

you immediately called seonghwa over and he comes in with a camera with him, filming the very first steps of his daughter.

when it hit eight months, you two had kind of gotten the hang off your daughter. and it was the best feeling to see her every day, screaming or laughing or looking at you with those eyes of her dad’s.

whenever you would scold her, she would widen her eyes and stare into your soul.

needless to say, she’s a carbon copy of seonghwa’s personality and a mixture of both your face.

aside from the eyes, she had the cutest cheeks you had ever seen, pouty lips and a contagious smile that brightened the room wherever she went.

seonghwa had also gone out of his way to get hwayoung anything her eyes laid on, which included dresses with strawberries on them.

one thing your daughter absolutely loved was strawberries, no wonder you had craved them so much during her.

she’s just like her dad and seonghwa makes sure to boast it in your face every day, or whenever hwayoung would waddle her way to him when he would come from work.

but she was your daughter, in the end of the day she runs to you with her arms frantically moving up and down and then finally falling asleep in your embrace.

and when she would sleep on seonghwa’s chest because she found it more comfortable, you’d snap a quick picture while seonghwa smiled, caressing her cheek.

when she finally hit the two-year mark, both you and hwayoung had a portrait taken. where she sat on your lap, a big smile on her face, short hair pulled into two pigtails and a pink dress.

that was your new favourite picture.

ah, and well as for your duty as a general. you decided to retire, wanting to be by hwayoung’s side all the time. you were now an ex-general, still taking the time in between to train a few newbies.

jongho had become the new head of the army and he made sure to boast it in your face and you’d laugh and say, “i trained you!”

you and seonghwa would carry your daughter everywhere, seonghwa would make her sit on his shoulders while her tiny hands played with his hair, and you’d prop her on your waist while she played with the chain around your neck.

in the end of the day, you and seonghwa would huddle together in the bed tiredly because your daughter had way too much energy.

“let’s not have another kid, she’s enough.”

that was funny because you screamed that same sentence on your second. yelling at seonghwa who only held your hand and helped you through the birth while saying ridiculous things that riled you up.

and this time, it was a boy.

seonghwa had chosen the name this time, hwan.

you remember the little guy screaming in the middle of the might that made you and seonghwa run to the room, most of the time it was hwayoung bothering him and others he was crying for no reason.

he had developed more of your personality but looked exactly like seonghwa, jongho would laugh and call it a “double homicide.”

hwan would spend time with hongjoong often, fascinated by the fact how his uncle played the piano.

who would excitedly teach him how to play and hwan would watch with his cat-like eyes, sitting beside hongjoong while his fingers played the keys.

hwayoung would make the rest of the guys dress up in pink tutu’s and invite them to her tea party, handwriting a sign with swirls and rainbows.

and they’d join happily, calling her their “little princess” who’s order they will forever follow.

others would find it surprising that how the big and bad princes and kings and generals (the guys) would be wrapped around the fingers of your kids.

you and seonghwa, worked even close than before. alternating responsibilities from your kids and then to the royal duties, but you made sure you would always spend time with the kids.

which meant taking them to the balmoral villa by the sea, or them jumping onto you and seonghwa first thing in the morning and then cuddle before falling asleep again.

you would discipline the kids while seonghwa spoiled them.

and then when the day had finally come, seonghwa’s parents had stepped down from the throne of eden.

hand in hand you two stood by each other, dressed in the coronation clothes with crowns over your head.

your kids stood in front of you two, playing with their clothes while pointing everywhere. the photographer snapped multiple photos and they would get broadcasted everywhere just like how the coronation.

you and seonghwa walked out the throne room, hearing the public chant your names and hold the flags of eden. waving their hands to yours, and you two glanced at each other and then laughed.

because in the end you two were together, with a small family of your own. your friends and parents supporting you and a new public who looked after you.

hwan and hwayoung ran to you two, yelling for you while holding their arms wide open. you picked hwan up and seonghwa picked hwayoung in his arms.

asking her to wave at the ones standing there for them, hwan would shy away and bury his face in your neck.

you glanced at seonghwa, and he winks, puckering his lips playfully and you shook your head, looking ahead.

this was it, seonghwa became the new king of eden and you, the queen consort of eden.

and you lived happily ever after.

the end.

previous part.

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