#just kidding he hasn’t acted tough a day in his life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

onceuponastory · 3 years ago

Text

edge of seventeen - steve harrington x reader

Just like the white winged dove Sings a song, sounds like she's singing Ooh, ooh, ooh

Plot: When Y/N is close to death at the hands of Vecna, Steve and the kids realise that her favourite song might be the only thing that can help save her. || Aka episode 4, but reader is in Max’s position. Requested by @albeeox, who also requested that this song be the reader’s favourite. Thank you for your request! Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death/murder, almost dying, dead bodies, body horror, choking/strangulation, fear/anxiety, hallucinations, and a few mentions of blood and violence. Basically anything that happens to Max in Episode 4 is a trigger, cause reader is in her position this time. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: I love this song so much, so when @albeeox asked for this to be Y/N’s favourite song, I was happy to provide, hahaha. I’m sorry it took so long, and I haven’t used a lot of the lyrics from the song in the fic, but you can listen to the song HERE. As I said, this was another request, so if you’d like to request something, please let me know!

Once again, not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“Alright, she’s been there long enough.” As Steve reaches for his door handle, Y/N stops him.

“Steve, just give her another minute. Billy was an asshole, but Max still deserves some time to grieve.” Y/N frowns. Steve starts to complain again, but Y/N gently puts her hand on his arm, shushing him. “I know. But since I’m about to run out of time, I’d rather make sure Max has all the time she needs.”

“You won’t run out of time. We will not let that monster take you.” Steve promises, and Dustin and Lucas agree with him. Y/N nods warily. Even though she appreciates their protection, it’s easy for them to say when they’re not cursed. The monster Vecna, who’s already claimed two lives, has cursed her too. And if the curse goes ahead, today is the day she’ll die. Y/N’s been trying to keep a brave face in front of the kids all day, but she’s terrified of losing her life in such an awful way. Also, there’s so much she hasn’t done yet. She hasn’t been to college, or seen all of her and Steve’s honorary kids go to prom, or graduate. And she hasn’t even started to live the life she always wanted with Steve. Y/N always hoped they’d move far away from Hawkins, get married, and have kids of their own. And now, she might never see him again.

Taking a breath, Y/N tries to stop the tears that are about to fall. Noticing she’s getting upset again, Steve gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. He and the others have been trying their best to keep her happy and preoccupied, and it is helping a little, but Y/N can tell that deep down, they’re just as scared as she is. Y/N can see tears shimmering in Steve’s eyes when he thinks she isn’t looking, and the sight of it breaks her heart.

Even though she knows it’s not her fault if she dies, she still feels terrible about putting Steve and the kids through so much fear and trauma. Sighing, Steve nods. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll give her an extra few minutes, but then we really need to go meet the others after that.” Reaching over, Y/N interlinks her fingers with Steve’s.

“That’s why I love you. You act all tough, but you’re a big softie at heart.” Steve smiles.

“Well, that’s funny, cause I love you too.” Just as Y/N is about to reply, a voice sounds from the backseat of Steve’s car.

“You two are so cheesy. It’s insufferable sometimes.” Dustin sighs.

“You know what, Henderson?” Steve huffs, turning to look back at him. However, the rest of Steve’s words fade away, and Y/N hears something else. Something that chills her blood. Ticking. The same ticking that’s been haunting her nightmares for the past few nights. Actually, it’s not even her nightmares anymore. By this point, Y/N has been seeing that damn clock everywhere. Worriedly, she looks around. Maybe Vecna’s getting closer. And that means her death is getting closer too. Y/N closes her eyes, hoping she can somehow tune it out of her brain. Still, the ticking continues. When Y/N opens her eyes once more, everything is red.

“What the hell is going on-” she gasps, turning back to the seat beside her. To her horror, she realises that the seat no longer contains her boyfriend Steve.

“Hello Y/N.” Vecna smiles from beside her. Y/N screams. Her hand fumbles around, trying to find the handle to release herself. Vecna grabs her arm, stopping her.

“No! Let me go!” She screams, trying to pull herself free, but Vecna pulls her closer. “You’re almost out of time. Your suffering is almost at an end.” Y/N squeezes her eyes shut tightly, yanking her arm back with all her might.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Lucas asks, bringing her back into the present. Immediately, Y/N notices everyone in the car is staring at her. Her eyes flicker down to her arm, which is free of marks. Y/N breathes a shaky sigh of relief. It was just a nightmare. He’s not here. She’s safe for now. Forcing an uneasy smile, she nods. Steve raises a brow.

“What is it? Do you hear the ticking again?” Steve asks. When she doesn’t answer right away, he becomes more panicked. “Y/N, just tell me. Please!”

“Yes. A-and, I saw him. Vecna.” She admits, her voice shaky. Silence falls in the car, and Steve’s face drops. “I-It’s stopped now though! I think.” She tries to reassure everyone, even though she’s never been so scared in her life.

“Okay, that’s it, we’re leaving. If Max wants a lawyer, she can get one.” Steve announces, getting out of his car without another word. Before he starts running over to Max, he motions for Dustin, Lucas and Y/N to follow him, which they do. As they follow after Steve, Dustin and Lucas protectively stand either side of Y/N, just in case. Although she appreciates their concern for her, the sight still makes heart sink. They’re just kids. They shouldn’t have to do this, and worry so much about one of their friends dying in such a horrible way. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Y/N’s neck stand up, and she looks around warily, expecting something to come out from behind the graves and grab her. However, nothing is there.

“You’re going to be okay Y/N. We’ll be out of here soon.” Dustin reassures her, noticing her panic, and Lucas nods. Y/N nods as she takes a deep, shaky breath. Her heart is still racing at what feels like a million miles an hour, and she just wants it all to stop. But then, the ticking starts again.

“No, no, no!” Y/N gasps.

“Y/N?” Lucas frowns. She opens her mouth, screaming at Steve to come back…but no words come out. Then, without warning, her vision goes black. Dustin and Lucas shout for Steve, and immediately, he comes running.

“SHIT! Y/N, can you hear me?” He asks. When he’s met with silence, Steve’s heart stops. “No, no, no….” He stammers, gently shaking her. Nothing happens.

Opening her eyes, Y/N immediately realises she’s no longer in Hawkins. Or at least, the Hawkins she knows. Everything around her is red, even the sky. It only takes a few moments for Y/N to realise where she is. She’s in The Upside Down. “Hello, Y/N.” A familiar voice speaks, and she gasps, her blood running cold.

“Vecna.” She whispers. This time though, it’s not a nightmare. It’s real.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Y/N immediately steps back. Vecna scoffs. “That won’t help you.” He’s right, it probably won’t. But she’s still going to try anyway. Y/N immediately turns on her heel and starts running away. She doesn't know where she's going, only that she has to run.

“Steve! Dustin! Lucas! Max!” She screams until her voice is hoarse, hoping they can somehow hear her. Even though deep down she knows nobody in The Upside Down can be heard in the real world, she screams their names over and over, hoping it somehow works.

“They can’t save you Y/N. They have no idea you’re here.” Vecna’s voice sounds from nowhere, making Y/N jump. But she knows she has to keep running, so she does. She just hopes that someone could hear her.

Back in Hawkins, as the kids try to figure out a plan to save Y/N, Steve stands with her. Her eyes have rolled back by this point, and she still stands silent and unmoving. It’s a complete change from only a few moments ago, when she was smiling at him and holding his hand. “Y/N! Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Steve asks again. Silence. “Please, wake up!” Steve begs, gently shaking her shoulders once more. Still, Y/N doesn’t respond. Steve’s blood runs cold. He might never hear her voice, or see her smile at him ever again. “Y/N, please. I can’t lose you. I love you.” He whimpers, trying desperately to get through to her.

Meanwhile, Y/N is still running away from Vecna. As she runs, she frantically looks for a way back to Steve and the others. Back to safety. Soon, Y/N finds herself in what looks like the ruins of The Creel house. As she steps inside, a familiar ticking noise sounds. The same ticking she’s heard so many times before. However, that’s not the most horrifying part of this. The bodies of Chrissy Cunningham and Fred Benson stare down at her, their faces and limbs contorted beyond recognition. Y/N screams. Is that going to happen to her?

“Would you like to join them?” Vecna asks from behind her.

“No! Stay away from me!” Y/N orders. As she turns to run again, she trips, and a vine wraps itself around her leg. Y/N tries to grab something to hold on to, but there’s nothing there. More vines wrap around her then, and they drag her backwards. “No, no, no!” she begs, sobbing by this point. “Steve! Help me!” Y/N screams in one final attempt to alert Steve and the others to where she is. The vines lift her body into the air, slamming it against one of the pillars. The vines then wrap around her body, and one slithers around her neck, cutting off her screams and tears. Vecna steps closer towards her.

“Steve! Steve!” Dustin screams, his voice cutting through the sound of Steve’s sobs. Steve’s head whips over to him, and he keeps a protective hold on Y/N’s body. “What’s her favourite song?!” Steve furrows his brows. Y/N might die, and all Dustin is concerned about is her favourite song?

“Henderson, why are you asking me-”

“It’s important and it could help Y/N survive! What is it?!” Max shouts. Although he’s still confused why the hell a song could help Y/N, at this rate, Steve’s willing to try anything.

“It’s Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks!” Steve calls back. “T-There’s a tape in my car.” The kids’ heads disappear down the hill for a moment as they root around in Steve’s car. In less than a minute, they’re running back to Steve and Y/N, each carrying an armful of cassette tapes. The tapes are dumped on the ground, and the kids sort through them. “Come on guys, hurry!” Steve pleads, his voice becoming increasingly more panicked as Y/N’s body starts to twitch.

“Here it is!” Dustin shouts, opening the tape, putting it into Max’s Walkman and putting the headphones on Y/N at rapid fire speed. Then, he presses play.

Meanwhile, Y/N watches Vecna cautiously. She opens her mouth, trying to beg for her life, or simply just to say something, anything that might ensure her survival. But the vine around her neck is too tight, and her words only come out as strained gasps. “Please, no….” A horrible realisation dawns on her then: oh god, this is it. She’s going to die all alone in the Upside Down, without her friends and family around her, and without spending the rest of her life with Steve Harrington.

Suddenly, the sound of a guitar cuts through the air, followed by singing.

Just like the white winged dove Sings a song, sounds like she's singing Ooh, ooh, ooh

Y/N recognises the song right away. After all, it is her favourite song of all time: Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks. But why is she hearing it now? Before she can think it over, Vecna steps closer, and Y/N closes her eyes, bracing herself for her death. And then, she hears Steve’s panicked voice.

“Y/N! Y/N! Please! God, why isn’t this working?!” He begs. Y/N opens her eyes. Steve? Is he here? Has he come to save her? Looking past Vecna, Y/N notices what looks like a portal opening. And as she looks through it, she recognises the figures and voices of Dustin, Lucas, Max, and Steve. Her heart rate rises. Is that her way out of here? God, hopefully it is.

Vecna turns around, noticing the open portal. The vines tighten around Y/N, and she gasps, trying to struggle out of them. “Don’t worry about them, Y/N. They can’t help you. I told you, you belong here. With me.” He tells her.

“No…I don’t.” She gasps. Steve and the others continue to yell. Hearing their voices amplifies her desire for survival, and she struggles against the vines once more. She can’t let it end yet. If only she could find a way out of these fucking things.

“Oh, but you do.” Vecna chuckles, holding his hand out above her head.

Back in Hawkins, Y/N’s body suddenly lifts into the air. Steve’s heart almost stops in fear. He reaches out, trying to grab Y/N and bring her safely back to earth, but she rises out of his grasp before he can, and the group watches as her body continues to rise before coming to a stop. “Why isn’t this working?! You said it would work!” Steve screams as tears roll down his cheeks.

“I-I don’t know! She just has to listen to the music!” The kids gasp. Steve feels awful for shouting at them, but he’s too worried about the prospect of losing Y/N to even think straight. Of course, he knows the kids are terrified too. They all see her as their honorary big sister, always on hand to protect them and offer advice. Now though, it’s Y/N who needs protecting. And through all of their panic, the vocals of Stevie Nicks continue to sound. As Vecna’s hand closes around her, Y/N continues to listen to the music. At least she’ll die hearing her favourite artist and the voice of her boyfriend. Suddenly, a memory enters her mind:

“Just like the white winged dove, sings a song, sounds like she's singing: ooh, ooh, ooh!” Y/N sings along, using her hand as a microphone. Steve chuckles.

“Listen, Y/N, you know I love you, but how many times are we going to listen to this song?” Steve teases, making her gasp.

“Oh come on Harrington, you know me and Stevie are a package deal at this point. And besides, you love her too! Thanks to me, of course.” Steve sighs, nodding.

“Yeah, you’re right, I do.” Y/N grins. When the song reaches the chorus, the pair roll down the car windows, scream singing along at the top of their lungs.

Just like the white winged dove Sings a song, sounds like she's singing I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

As the memory fades, Y/N chuckles softly. That’s one of her favourite memories of all time. It was just her, Steve, and the open road. Maybe the reason she’s remembering it now is that her mind wants her to remember the good times before she dies. She’s going to miss him so much. Then, more memories replay in Y/N’s brain. Memories of times spent with Steve, like when he kept sneaking her free ice cream cones whenever she came to visit him at work, or when they dropped Dustin off at the Snowball and had an impromptu dance in her backyard under the stars. As more and more memories flood her brain, ones with both Steve and the kids, Y/N’s survival instinct takes full control. No. She won’t let herself die. Not like this. Not without saying goodbye to Steve and the kids.

And at that moment, the vines loosen their grasp on her. For a moment, she’s confused, until a thought enters her mind. What if the music and her memories are what’s going to save her? Hope fills her blood then, and the vines loosen their grasp even more. Y/N quickly gets her hand free, and she slams it into the side of Vecna, temporarily stunning him. As he jumps back, grunting in pain, the vines release her, and Y/N’s body falls to the ground with a thud. Quickly, she jumps up, running towards the portal before Vecna can grab her again. Her feet pound the ground, and Y/N runs as fast as she can, running towards freedom and towards the people she loves most in the world.

And then, something crashes to the ground beside her, and Y/N gasps. Vecna’s trying to stop her. Yet, she continues to run, dodging each obstacle as Vecna’s lair and the Upside Down crash down around her. And through it all, Stevie Nicks continues to play.

So with the slow graceful flow of age I went forth with an age old Desire to please On the edge of seventeen

Once she reaches the portal, Y/N closes her eyes and jumps, hoping that it’s enough for her to make it. Because her survival depends on it.

As she opens her eyes, Y/N gasps, realising she’s floating in the air. Immediately, she panics. Oh god, how did she get up here? What happened? Is Vecna still here? Suddenly, her body drops, and she crashes back down to earth. Once she’s on the ground, the air fills with a mix of voices. Y/N starts hyperventilating, and she looks around, trying to figure out where she is and if Vecna is still there. She can feel the touch of the grass under her, but it could still be a trick.

And then, Y/N hears Steve’s voice, and a pair of arms wrap around her. Y/N looks over, finding herself staring into a familiar pair of brown eyes. And she is immediately relieved. Realising the nightmare is finally over, Y/N bursts into tears, her body shaking. She reaches out, grabbing onto Steve and holding on for dear life. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” Steve whispers, holding onto her just as tightly. The voices of the kids sound too, all saying how worried they were and how glad they are that she’s okay. “God, I thought I’d lost you.” Steve whimpers.

“Me too....” Y/N sniffles. Steve lets her cry as much as she needs to, and the kids also each give her a hug, which makes Y/N feel a little better.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you ever again, Y/N. I promise.” Steve whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead. And in that moment, despite knowing that she’s not out of the woods yet, Y/N feels a little safer. And it’s all thanks to her two favourite things in the world: Steve Harrington, and Stevie Nicks.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x y/n #albeeox #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things oneshot

325 notes · View notes

proceduralpassion · 2 years ago

Text

More Than A Woman | Chapter 01

A/N: Chapter one, here we go! Lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist...

WC: 1.5K

“Hi, Mr. Reyes. We spoke on the phone.” Her statement came out more like a question because Desi wasn’t so sure he’d even remember. He sounded like a ghost when they’d first talked and even as he walked into her office, his mind seemed elsewhere. His handshake was robotic and his eyes were vacant.

They both sat down across from each other.

Desi looked at him for a moment, taking in the anguish and darkness that emanated from him.

“So how’s this go?”, he gestured between himself and the school’s psychologist, “He ain’t in trouble, is he?”

Desi shook her head immediately, “Oh, no no. This is more so a check-in, if anything. I was alerted of recent circumstances, Santi’s mother passing away… That’s a tough thing for anyone to go through, much less a six year old.”

To acknowledge her comment, he absentmindedly nodded his head. Tough thing to go through. That was the fucking understatement of the year, he thought to himself. A moment passed and Angel realized he should speak.

“Yeah, we split, but kinda got good with the co-parenting thing. He mostly lived with her, though. I’m sure it’s been a lot for him.”

And because he hasn’t really been the most observant father, Angel kept his mouth shut about whether he saw any signs to worry about when it came to his son. That was okay, though, because Desi Maduro, Ed.S. had been attentive enough for the both of them. She had already had several conversations with the young boy and found he was surprisingly talkative for a kid who mostly stuck to himself in the classroom and playground.

“Yeah, he mentioned he would spend his weekends with you,” Desi spoke with a comforting smile. She let a pause hit the air before continuing, “Mr. Reyes, you have a resilient, intelligent, and sweet young boy. And like I said, while I’m not necessarily worried for him, I’d really like to encourage you to engage yourself more with him. Maybe start an open dialogue at home, so that he feels comfortable whenever he wants to share something-”

“My son is fine,” he interrupted sharply. His face was a mix of confusion and defensiveness as he looked at her.

Not wanting this conversation derailed sideways, she immediately conceded, “Of course! I have no doubt. I just figured I could give you a few things to look out for in the case should they arise. Grief is not as linear as one might think it is, so even if Santi seems fine, we still want to keep a close eye on him-”

“Explain that.” He interrupted again. At the look of uncertainty on her face, he prompted, “What you said before, that shit about an open dialogue and shit.. What did you mean?”

His tone was less aggressive this time and he even seemed a bit embarrassed, shy. The outburst was probably a reactionary thing, more than likely something culminating from his own grief from losing his child’s mother. But now, he seemed actually intent on listening and comprehending the foreign concept.

Desi smiled again, hoping she conveyed softness and understanding. “This is a whirlwind of a time for a young child. Kids thrive on stability and structure. A big part of that is gone now that Stephanie is no longer here. Even though he may still be too young to grasp the concept of death, it can still be traumatizing for a child to have someone in their life for as long as they can remember and then one day that person is no longer there. And you’d be surprised at the way kids can act out, even at his age. Now, again, Santiago hasn’t gotten into any trouble or displayed any behavior of concern, but we want to be proactive. He needs people that he can express his emotions to. Emotions that can be super big for such a small body. Being that you’re now his primary caretaker, it makes sense that that person should be you. Along with making sure you’re establishing a routine for him, you should also talk with him, be affectionate with him… I know you’re probably dealing with this loss yourself. It’s okay for him to know that you’re sad, too.”

Angel scoffed to himself. He focused hard to take in every word that she said and he couldn’t help but get more and more overwhelmed as she continued to go on. He didn’t know anything about putting together a daily routine; school was Santi’s fill of that while everyday at home could be unpredictable based on what the MC demanded of Angel at the moment. And affectionate? He shook his head to himself knowing he hadn’t been much of that lately. Disappointment filled his veins. If anything, Santi needed more affection now than ever, but Angel hadn’t been paying close enough attention to that.

Desi watched the various emotions flash over his face and felt for him. He didn’t seem to be the kind who purposefully distanced himself from his son. He’d probably been wrapped up in his own grief while also carrying on with life. Of course, his child should come first, but she could see the remorse on his face as he came to some realizations.

After a moment, she allayed, “You don’t have to have all the answers. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is just listen.”

Angel nodded again, this time trying to put forth more effort into actually listening.

“What does he say? You’ve talked to him, right? So, what does he say? What does he talk about?” Angel inquired curiously. He winced as he prepared to hear her reply, not ready to know of some of the pain his son’s been feeling.

“Well, it was obviously a very shocking thing to him, at first. He talked about how scary the funeral was,” Angel shook his head in suffering, knowing that he hadn’t even picked up on Santi’s fear. He wouldn’t have ever forced him to go if he knew the whole thing scared him. He harshly cursed himself, knowing that he potentially traumatized his son even further. Desi continued, politely ignoring his agony, “I think he’s only just now coming to terms that his mom is gone for good. Of course, I can see he still has moments where a particular emotion may spring up, but he’s not more or less withdrawn in class according to his teacher.”

Again, Angel took the time to try and absorb the counselor’s words and what this all meant. He was, for sure, out of his depth and didn’t know where to start in attempting to be a more active parent.

“I know that this is hard for both of you, but I think that establishing a routine and adding some structure to Santi’s will be beneficial for the both of you. Soon enough, you’re gonna have to learn how to help Santi have a life without his mother. Not so that he forgets her, but so that he knows how to move on and keep the memory of his mom alive.”

But how? Angel thought to himself.

And then he vocalized it.

“How do I do that?”

“Try. Obviously, it’s more to it than that, but don’t stop making an effort no matter how hard it is. Santi might not feel 100% comfortable sharing his feelings with you all the time, but the best thing you can do is to never stop trying. Mr. Reyes, this isn’t going to be a cake walk. But he’s young and I see a loving father sitting in front of me. That’s the most important thing.”

Angel smiled a little at that.

“And you’re sure he’s doing fine considering?”

“Yes. There may be little outbursts or behavioral changes as time passes, but there’s nothing that’s cause for concern right now,” she comforted. And then she added, “Try to put together a daily schedule for him to follow. Something fun to do when he gets home. And then homework time. Dinner and a bath. Simple things just to give him a little more normalcy.”

“Thank you,” He stood from his seat and nodded appreciatively at her. Turning towards the door, he adjusted his kutte and stretched out his long legs. Before he turned completely away, she handed him a post-it with her contact information on it and gestured to walk him out the door.

“You’re welcome. I really appreciate you taking the time to talk with me, Mr. Reyes. Please, I’d really love for us to keep in contact so we can manage Santi’s progress together.”

Angel nodded again, completely serious about trying to maintain contact with her.

He wouldn’t keep this up anymore, it was time for him to step up and be the parent that Santi needed.

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Reyes. Have a good day!”

Angel took a final glance back at her as he walked out the school’s main exit. Her braids were wrapped up into a messy bun and a few of them fell around the frame of her face. She bid him off with a final, friendly smile and turned back towards her office.

Tagging: @drabbles-mc @mijagif

#mayans mc #angel reyes #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes x black!oc #mtaw fic #c: destiny maduro

64 notes · View notes

kallikrein · 3 years ago

Text

DROP OF CHANCES

— in which timeskip!inupi happens to meet you in a hospital.

genre. fluff.

contains. fem!reader, mentions of blood and character death, probably ooc, bad grammar and writing.

word count. 1.8k.

note. i can’t stop thinking about how inupi likes to donate his blood so being the lab person that i am, i shall self-indulge. this also has lots of inside jokes bcos why not? hahaha. gahh, it’s been so long since i wrote a fic! oh, and HAPPY EASTER, EVERYONE!

The familiar scent of antiseptics, as well as the bleak aura of people sitting in the hallway, was a setting Seishu used to extremely dislike.

He thought back to the days where he would visit Akane in her room, sitting timidly beside her unconscious body as his mind repeated over and over the event that rendered her almost lifeless.

He couldn’t do a single damn thing about it. As a kid, he merely opted to stare at her bandaged face, pleading until the visitation hours ended for any diety to come and save his sister.

But, of course, never did that happen.

Which was why he didn’t go to hospitals that much. He didn’t like the impending doom that walked through the halls of the hospital as if it’s a common resident there. It reeked of regret and desperation, seeping outside from the patients’ ill bodies and draining his life essence effortlessly.

“Patient 17, please come in.”

Shaking himself off from his reverie, he stood up and walked through the glass doors with a blank face. A doctor who he was somehow acquainted with sat on the other side of the room, greeting him and asking the routine questions that he deliberately answered in the hospital form earlier.

It’s just for confirmation, Seishu chastised himself. Don’t get too worked up.

“Okay, you’re good to go,” they remarked.

“Go?” He repeated. “As in I should leave?”

Seishu didn’t know why. He was certain he abided by the hospital protocols. He’s of age, he didn’t drink caffeine or alcohol prior, he didn’t take any medications as well, and he’s not even feeling sick at all. All the more, he’s feeling pumped.

So why is he being told to leave?

“They meant you’re good to be physically checked now,” an amused voice chimed in. “Doc, don’t fend off our donors.”

“Ah, I said that wrongly. Hehe.”

Those words were uttered lightheartedly, and Seishu could feel his body immediately relaxing. He took a quick glimpse of the person who cleared things out for him: a lady who’s shorter than him and — is that a laboratory coat?

A new staff, maybe? His mind pondered.

The doctor passed his form to the newcomer, easily patting his back as he did. Chuckling, they said, “I thought he’d get it by now. He’s a regular here, you see.”

“Oh. Inui Seishu-san?” Surprised after recognizing his name, you gave him a tiny smile which made his heart do a little flip, making him frown in bewilderment. “Please follow me. I’ll be your bleeder today.”

You led him to a modest room, started to take his weight, check his pulse which was starting to get rapid for some unknown reason, his blood pressure, and this thing where they prick his fingertip for a drop of blood; and he couldn’t hide his tiny gasp of pain when you did it to him too, getting embarrassed for the sudden drop of tough act even though he should be used to the shock by now.

“I’m sorry that hurt,” you instantly mumbled. Gentle, practiced fingers still focused on pressing a cotton to his wound, as your other hand expertly disposed the trash in their rightful bins. “Press this for me.”

Following your soft-spoken orders, he watched you get busy with glass slides and tinkering a little machine. It’s somehow mesmerizing to see how you move so swiftly as if you’ve been here doing this all this time.

He really thought you’re new. He hasn’t seen you around since the time he started donating blood, and that was quite a long time ago. So how come you were on such good terms with the doctor already?

Maybe she’s their lover? Shrugging the notion off his mind, he castigated himself for considering it since it wasn’t like him to be curious about a stranger’s relationship at all. What’s gotten into my head today?

But when he saw you write some things on his form, he could clearly see your side profile, and thought you’re way too strange to be doing stuff like with a humble person like you.

“Are you okay now?”

He nodded.

You led him once again to the main room, feeling his heart lurch in a good way. Excitement, that’s what it was. He wasn’t doing this out of nobility, more so of getting that peculiar satisfaction of having your body cleansed — quite literally.

“This isn’t your first time right?”

In any other context, he might have blushed. Instead, Seishu shook his head, laying down on the bed even without you ordering him around. You threw him another funny look because of it as you prepared the blood bags you needed to fill.

“Which arm was it last time?” Wordlessly, he raised his left arm. “Right, so it’s right today…”

You leaned over him, eyes focused on the exposed skin of his arm, and Seishu’s throat suddenly dried up. He could smell the subtle scent of your perfume — a breath of freshness from the acrid smell of bleach that somehow stuck to the corners you smell in hospital rooms.

Even when you prodded him with gloved hands as you searched for his most stable vein, he didn’t feel this kind of nervousness — or was it fluster because you’re prettier up close — at all before.

“Are you new here?”

“Oh! Don’t worry.” Too eager in answering, he quickly realized what his words had just implied. She thought I’m doubting her. “I got transferred here a while back, but I have lots of experience in bleeding patients.”

And just like a parrot, he said, “Oh.”

“Nervous? I promise I’ll be gentle.”

This time, Seishu couldn’t stop his blush. It flamed across his face up to his ears, and he didn’t even need a mirror to see that he’s fiery red. It wasn’t as if he didn’t notice that already. Your hands were too soft, even for his standards, that he couldn’t really feel your touch at all.

Chuckling out of the blue, he looked back at your face and swore his breath got dramatically stolen. There was fascination adorning your face, eyes held in a dash of sheepishness as you told him, “Wow. You got nice veins. I like it.”

Cute. She’s so cute.

“What else do you like?”

Wait.

Was that his voice just now?

He abruptly turned away, facing the other side of his bed and closing his eyes. There was a stretch of silence until a light snort could be heard, then he could feel a stretchy thing being wrapped tightly around his upper arm and the harsh smell of alcohol and iodine overpowered the scent he was just leisurely breathing in.

“Ready? I’m going to put it in now,” you breathed.

Oh god, he shouldn’t have closed his eyes.

A million of perverse scenarios crossed his mind, and they weren’t at all welcome.

No…they’re actually welcome. But it wasn’t the right time nor the right place to entertain it.

Damn it.

Good heavens, when did he become such a lewd man?

“You okay? You’re breathing too fast.”

“I’m okay,” he replied too swiftly. “I really am.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah.” I’m just afraid my blood’s going to go south.

“I like dogs,” you blurted out.

Nevermind, it’s going back up. “What?”

“You asked me what I like so I answered dogs?”

After scrutinizing your confused face for a minute, you fidgeted on your seat. As you were about to open your mouth, he interrupted you with a scoff, “You’re not sure?”

“I am?”

“Eh. Still not sure to me.”

“I am.”

“Okay.”

And that awkward tension stretched on, with you telling him to squeeze the stress ball he was holding in his right palm every now and then to keep the blood flowing.

Eight minutes passed. You hovered over his almost-filled blood bag, checking it’s weight and peering through its graduation to see if you got the right amount.

“Almost there,” you commented after a while. He actually thought he would feel good about this today. He liked doing this, sitting and feeling drained in a good sense. But all that his mind was telling him was it’s going too fast.

Way too fast for it to end just like this.

Because what if he won’t see you the next time? What if you got transferred again? It seemed too fast for him to want to get a glimpse of your adorable, quite funny face again; to know more about you and your love for dogs, but it was seriously what he was contemplating within the safe haven that was his mind.

He didn’t even realize you were done with the blood collection until he felt you press the now-tender part of his arm. “Press, and just relax here for twenty minutes, okay?”

And off you went to do your job, labeling things and cutting ties with your game face on. Seishu sighed. He supposed it’s better if he won’t see you again. This was just a one time thing, that’s already given. So why and how did he become hopeful in the first place, anyway?

It’s not as if he was looking for someone to… take out.

Clearly, he had lost his mind somewhere on the way here.

After a few minutes of waiting, you came back to the room with a juice pack and a light snack in hand. “For replenishments,” you offered him with a smile.

“Thanks.”

He was too caught up in putting the straw to the juice pack with one hand that he didn’t realize you were laughing before respectfully taking it from his grasp. “Here, let me help.”

“Thanks.”

“How do you feel?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, was I good, at least?”

Choking from your innocent but a tad bit suggestive question, you came to his side in a hurry to pat his back. But your nearness only made his situation worse, as your alluring scent richly invaded his nostrils. “Are you okay?!”

“Yeah. I’m okay. You did okay.”

“Oh!” Laughing at his impromptu feedback, you sent him yet another one of your sheepish expressions. “See, I told you I’m good at it.”

“You never said,” he dryly replied.

“Well… I just did. Anyway, are you feeling better to get up now? No dizziness? No numbness?”

“Yeah. None at all.” I feel miserable though.

“Alright, now you’re really free to go.”

That’s it?

That was it?

Seishu sat up, slowly and silently, milking your time’s worth together for as long as he could before he has to leave this place and wait for another three months in order to donate his blood again. Although, your gentle but genuine words made him pause in his tracks.

“Thank you for being a lifesaver, Inui-san.”

Lifesaver, huh? He was far from it. Never did he consider himself as someone who save lives. Akane was a sure reminder of that, but it’s his scar, mostly. But now that that word was out in the open, uttered by someone who has a big heart and humane as you, he somehow believed this bizarre act of his that he only does for good fun may perhaps do save some lives.

“Are you free this weekend?”

taglist. @baji-san, @gwynsapphire, @eriskaitto and @manjiroarchiviste.

#[ ⌨️ ] — writings #東京リベンジャーズ #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers inui seishu #inui seishu fluff #inui seishu x reader #tokyo revengers inupi #inupi fluff #inupi x reader

205 notes · View notes

olivedays · 3 years ago

Note

🗞 — breaking news!!!!!! OKOKOK ,,,,, brothers best friend!steve

cw - bbf!steve, slight suggestiveness, not beta read 😵‍💫

at first it would be just a small unrequited crush, occasionally sneaking glances from afar at the golden boy of hawkins high between classes. you didn’t think much of it because everyone and their mom liked steve harrington. and why wouldn’t they? he was perfect — perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect personality — the whole package.

you push your thoughts about steve to the back of your head until one day, your brother invites him to your house and you see him. in the flesh, standing in your living room, running his hands through his stupidly fluffy locks. you think it’s just a one time thing, but eventually, steve is at your house every single day, without fail.

everyone thinks it’s just because him and your brother are really close, and they are. but even though he’d never admit it, he often comes by just to see you. not your brother, but you. steve can’t believe he hasn’t noticed you before, honestly.

your little puppy crush comes back, little by little, until you’re just completely infatuated with him. it’s unfair, really. you’d think that getting closer with him would show you he’s not really all that but you can’t help but notice little things about him.

how good he is with kids, how he always takes time out of his day to help people (even if he grumbles about it to the ends of the earth), how he tries to act tough but fails miserably, and most of all, how hard he makes you laugh.

as for steve, he finds himself looking forward to talking to you, because you’re so... you. passionate and vibrant and bubbly and full of life. he likes it when he makes you smile the best. your eyes light up like little stars and he can’t help but stare at you in awe. but you’re just friends. at least that’s what he tells himself.

the first time he kisses u is in fact one of these times he’s staring at your smile. you look up at him, laughing because he’s just so fucking stupid, and your heart almost stops beating because steve harrington is unabashedly staring at your lips.

you both take a second to consider the weight between you two, before he softly presses his lips to yours. and the sound you make, god. it takes all of his self-restraint to not drag you up to your room that second.

when you guys finally do start dating it has to be in secret from ur brother because you know he would absolutely lose his shit if he found out

so it’s just lingering touches and stolen glances when you guys are all hanging out together

sometimes your brother feels like a fucking third wheel because he has to sit there while you guys are staring all moony-eyed at each other. he has to tell steve multiple times to stop flirting with his little sister

but he just can’t help himself, can he? this man is WHIPPED for you

also modern!au where steve and ur brother are playing video games n he turns around and sees u all dressed up and his jaw just drops. totally forgets about the game even tho everyone’s yelling at him to come back and he runs up to kiss u because u look so so pretty :(

#sorry this is so long LOL #olives 100!#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington

81 notes · View notes

sacredsorceress · 4 years ago

Text

Three’s a Crowd || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: when you come down to visit your boyfriend, bucky barnes, at the wilson residence and see his interaction with sam’s nephews firsthand- you can’t help but entertain the idea of having a family of your own with the super soldier.

a/n: here’s some short and sweet fluff prior to the season finale! reblogs and/or replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 2k

warnings: mentions of starting a family? it’s pure fluff

masterlist || request || taglist

“Hey sleepyhead.” You hummed, running your fingers through your boyfriend’s hair.

At the sound of your voice and the gentle touch of your fingers slipping through his hair and brushing against his skin ever so slightly, Bucky opened his eyes to bet met with your figure sitting at his side, staring down at him.

No matter how many times he woke up to see you first thing in the morning with the sunlight highlighting your features, he would swear he was in heaven- utterly consumed with the feeling of pure bliss.

“Hi, doll.” He smiled, his voice still raspy.

At the feeling of his hands moving to lay on either side of your waist you smiled. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked, realizing that you had come all the way down to the Wilson’s home when the last place Bucky had left you before going on his mission with Sam was at your shared apartment in New York.

“I missed you.” You shrugged.

“I told you I was coming home today, Y/n.”

“I know, Buck.” You said, now laying your palm against his cheek. “But I heard about everything that happened and I couldn’t wait another day to see you.”

Looking up at you and leaning into your palm that was cupping his cheek, Bucky couldn’t believe how he ever got so lucky as to have you.

Breaking him out of his moment spent admiring you, he heard the sound of Sam’s nephews running into the room, and turned his head only to see them playing with the famous vibranium shield in their hands.

“Hey!” He exclaimed.

Immediately upon being caught by the super soldier, the boys dropped the shield onto the ground, scurrying out of the room, no doubt scared about getting caught with their uncle’s prized possession.

“Look at you babysitting.” You laughed, playfully swatting at your boyfriend’s chest.

Bucky caught your hand midair and scoffed. “I’m not babysitting... it’s just... dangerous... you know?”

“Sure,” You smiled. “Whatever you say, tough guy.”

Grasping the dog tags that were lying on his chest, you gently tugged on the chain and brought his face inches away from yours. Seeing his sleepy, smiling face- you brought your lips to meet his for a soft kiss before pulling away.

“One more?” He asked, quirking his eyebrows.

“Go brush your teeth first.” You laughed, watching as he threw you a fake pout. “Then I’ll see what I can do.”

Although the two of you spent the remainder of the day apart- Bucky training with Sam and you helping Sarah with things she needed done around the property- you came together again on the docks that evening while the Sun began to set over the horizon.

Carrying a crate in your hands that you had assured Sarah wasn’t too heavy for you, you made your way near the boat again, laying your eyes on your super soldier boyfriend for the first time since that morning.

You swear your heart could’ve burst right in your chest, taking in the sight in front of you.

Bucky was stood at the end of the dock, one hand on his knee while he chatted with Sam and his sister beside him. His other arm- his vibranium one- was stretched out and you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face as you witnessed Sam’s nephews and other children you hadn’t seen before hanging off of it, laughing to one another in awe about how “cool” his arm was.

With the golden hue of the sunset setting over your boyfriend’s features, you wished you had a camera on you so you could never forget the moment. You could’ve sworn you would’ve stood there for eternity staring if it weren’t for Bucky catching your eye, waving back at you smiling.

Although you couldn’t hear him, you watched as he said something to the kids, gently shaking them off of his arm, before striding over to you.

“Here, let me take that.” He offered, taking the crate from your arms and setting it down on the dock.

Watching as he did so, your mind was still utterly consumed with the image you had just seen in front of you.

“So kids really seem to like you, huh?” You asked.

“What?” He asked, before remembering what he had just been up to. “Oh that?” Bucky asked gesturing back towards where the kids were playing at the end of the dock. “No... they just like the arm, you know?”

As much as you loved your boyfriend, you knew that he was completely naive when it came to the positive effects he had on people.

“Buck...” You cooed, reaching for his hands and pulling his body closer to yours. “When are you going to realize that people like you for you? They think you’re cool! Sure, the metal arm helps, but just admit it babe- kids like you.”

Resting his hands on your waist, you watched as a teasing smirk formed on his face.

“Why are you so obsessed with how kids act around me today?”

As soon as he asked, you began to feel flustered by him not only noticing, but calling you out on it. You hadn't realized you were being so obvious, but you could barely help yourself. Seeing your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, surrounded by kids? You couldn’t help but think of him surrounded by children of your own. All you could think about all day when not engaged in an active conversation with those around you was entertaining the idea of starting a family with your favorite 106 year-old man.

“I’m not!” You exclaimed, playfully swatting at his chest. “Why are you so obsessed with me being obsessed about you with kids? Hmm? Wanna answer that old man?”

Watching as you laughed while teasing him, Bucky couldn’t help but get lost in the moment.

“Buck-” You began.

“You know you look so beautiful right now?” He cut you off.

You bit your bottom lip to try to hide the large smile that was creeping over your face at his compliment. No matter how long the two of you had been together, or how many times he complimented you, he always knew how to make you feel the same butterflies you did the first time you met him.

“Especially with the sunset? You look beautiful all the time, doll, but... wow.” He said.

“Bucky, stop flattering me.” You insisted, running your hands up his chest before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

“I mean it, Y/n.” He said. “You’re the best looking thing on this damn planet.”

Utterly consumed in the moment, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Me?” You asked. “Have you ever seen yourself? I swear I want our kids to look just like you.”

As soon as the sentence slipped out of your mouth, you regretted it. It came out so naturally you hadn’t even had time to think about it before you essentially just confessed to your boyfriend that you wanted to have children with him.

Although you and him had no doubt in your minds that you would spend the rest of your lives together, you understood that now might not have been the best time to bring up such a big life change with both of you only being thrown back into existence half a year ago and him being consumed in his work not only in saving the world, but in saving himself.

Embarrassed, you tried to weasel your way out of his grasp, but he only gripped his hands tighter on your waist pulling you towards him.

“What did you say?” He asked.

“I’m so sorry! Forget I said anything-” You pleaded.

“No, Y/n, stop. Stop apologizing.” He said. “Were you... were you talking about kids all day because you were thinking about... were you thinking about me being a dad?”

As you looked into his eyes, you could see how serious he was and you knew you couldn’t lie to him.

“Yes.”

The two of you stood staring at each other in silence for a few moments and just as you were beginning to grow afraid that you might have ruined everything, you watched as your boyfriend began to chuckle, a light smile playing on his lips.

“What?” You asked. “What is it?”

“Thank God.”

Quirking your eyebrows you pressed again. “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” He asked playfully, pulling on your waist to tug you closer towards him. “Do you think I haven’t been thinking the same thing all day?”

“What-”

“Y/n.” He said seriously, the smile leaving his face. “You’ve been taking care of Sam’s nephews all day. Do you think the thought hasn’t crossed my mind? I know... I know I’ve been through a lot... we’ve been through a lot... but I want this with you.”

You could feel your heart swell in your chest, listening to your boyfriend’s words.

“What are you saying, Buck?” You asked.

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?” He asked, smiling once again. “Okay. Today when I couldn’t tie the kid’s shoelaces because of my hand and you stepped in and did it for me I thought about how good of a mom you would be. You’d be such a good mom, Y/n. I’m a piece of work- I know that- but God you would be so good at it and if I have... you know... mini me’s running around I wouldn’t want anyone else because I know that they would be the most loved and cared for kids in the damn world having you as their mom.”

You once again couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you listened to your boyfriend’s praise. It wasn’t uncommon for bucky to worship the ground you walked on, but for him to give such a compliment regarding a future family of your own, you couldn’t help but feel as though you had been personally escorted to paradise.

Unable to find the words to describe the joy and excitement you were feeling, you spoke the only words you could find it in yourself to say to him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He said.

“I want it all with you too, Buck.” You said, moving your hand to cup his cheeks, “And for the record- you would be a great dad. I know you put on the tough guy look for everyone else, but as the luckiest woman on the planet- I’ve seen the love you have in your heart. You would spoil those kids rotten with love.”

You watched as the very rare instance of blush coated Bucky’s cheeks. Still smiling- so much so it almost began to hurt- you pulled your boyfriend’s face towards yours, allowing your lips to meet his. Just as you were about to deepen the kiss however, you heard a loud whistle, sounding from behind Bucky.

Peeking behind Bucky, you saw Sam standing a few feet away, sleeves rolled up and hands on his hips.

“Hey!” Sam teased. “There’s kids here!”

“Thanks for ruining the moment, Sam.” Your boyfriend grumbled beside you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

You watched as Sam, laughing, took a swig of the beer in his hand, the sun setting behind him.

“I’m just messing with you, man.” He said. “Are you two staying tonight?”

The two of you glanced at one another, wordlessly communicating while smiling- both knowing what the other was thinking.

“I think...” You began. “I think we’re gonna start a family.”

When the words slipped out of your mouth, you and Bucky couldn't help but gaze at each other in awe of the situation. You were really going to do this. You were going to start a family with one another. You could hardly believe it, but you also couldn’t be happier than you were in that moment.

In front of the two of you, however, still stood Sam who spit out his beer at the sound of your words.

“Not on my sister’s couch you’re not!”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic

2K notes · View notes

turtle-steverogers · 2 years ago

Note

Mikey! More on all of these because I love my boys

1. Steve also goes into closets when he’s embarrassed. If something doesn’t go as planned or if people laugh at him and he gets bone deep embarrassment, he’ll stay in the situation long enough to play it off, but later, he’ll disappear. Bucky knows well enough to search everywhere else first. Steve knows Bucky knows where he is, but it’s the act of looking that helps Steve calm down. Because if Bucky’s looking, that means he cares.

2. There’s one day when Steve thinks he’s alone and is talking to himself in Irish. Bucky’s in the house or maybe he just got back from somewhere and Steve hasn’t noticed him yet, and maybe Steve asks himself a question about whether Bucky would like something and Bucky responds in perfect Irish. Turns out that in addition to learning it from listening, he was taking some online classes

3. Bucky journals diligently. It’s something that he started doing after the Soldier as a way to keep things organized and to keep things memorized. But once he starts doing it because he likes it, he starts journaling in Yiddish. It helps him feel close to his mama and sisters and feels like home. Steve always tries to bring him a cup of tea when he sees him with his journal and curls up on the opposite side of the couch with his sketch book

4. If Steve ever wakes up as the big spoon, this stubborn ass will get out of bed and go to the other side to work his way into Bucky’s eyes. Sometimes Bucky wakes up and rolls his eyes and presses a fond kiss to his temple before going back to sleep

5. The thing Steve likes most about Christmas is the decorating. He and his Ma never had much in the way of decorations, but they made do. Steve made a lot of them by hand from newspapers he found in the street. Now, even though they have the means to be ostentatious, he and Bucky still keep it simple. It’s a quiet melding of their two traditions

6. For the big meals, Steve lets Bucky cook and he works as the sous chef. He loves watching Bucky work in the kitchen. It reminds him of childhood and watching his ma make these meals out of seemingly nothing. Bucky has this innate sense of knowing how to do things in the kitchen and it brings this sense of home. Usually, during the week, they cook together, making old recipes from their families and finding new ones, and it’s healing

7. There was a week where Bucky had to travel somewhere and he came home to Steve sleeping on the couch with Alpine curled on his chest, purring

hello!!! i know it's been absolutely forever since you sent these in, but i'm finally freeee for a week!!!

YESSS i also think steve finds comfort in slightly confined, quiet spaces. it was always safest for him as a kid to sort of hide-- and most of the games he'd play at bucky's house that he came up with or lead were hiding games (which clued the barnes parents heavily into his home life)-- so it's something that he still holds onto to this day. bucky of course knows this and knows the routine of it is comforting to steve, so he goes along with it easily

YES PLEASSEEE after that, they spend a long time cycling through irish endearments with each other and eventually, steve surprises bucky by throwing in some yiddish endearments as well, much to bucky's nostalgic surprise

bucky being a writer is something that's so special to me. i also love to imagine that on top of journaling as a coping mechanism, he takes to writing short stories and poetry as well!!! this has lead to him leaving little poems around their brownstone for steve to find when bucky knows he has some tough work ahead of him or is having a bad day

steve also 100% will take any opportunity to crawl onto bucky's lap and hunker down. there have been times that he's come home for a mission or therapy and promptly crawled onto bucky's lap and passed out. bucky always just wordlessly adjusts and scrolls through his phone while steve snores on his shoulder

I WROTE A FIC LIKE THIS ONCE OMGGG yes!!!! steve working hard on homemade decorations and aiming for the trees that maybe look like they need a little more love and drawing in all the little things that made the holidays special for him and his ma. simple always felt more special. like home to him, because it's always been unequivocally about family and love and gathering than anything material

sometimes this includes steve just... attaching himself to bucky as he works around the kitchen. trailing behind him with his arms around his middle and kissing the back of his neck while bucky sautées onions and explains what he's doing

also steve gets his own cat. it's a naked cat. this is a hill i will die on.

#keith the cat #mikey answers #mutuals <333 #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #stucky headcanons

35 notes · View notes

baekhvuns · 4 years ago

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.

tag list : @mingi-ivity : @luvhaos : @mangotexts : @atinyteez : @preets-kpop-world : @atozfic : @idiomaticpunk : @ofcjongho : @ateezappreciation : @sparklychangbin : @annasbananas : @happycandynoelle : @seonghwas-shinystar-x : @treasure-hwa : @etherealbyeol : @sktbzc0re : @utopiakys : @hanflix : @skmoonchild : @uzumakioden : @thiccseokmin

unable to tag : @multi–trash : @rawrrainn : @deobichoice : @hongzkdlin

#i think it rushed #seonghwa #park seonghwa #ateez #ateez seonghwa #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fics #ateez fics #ateez park seonghwa #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez imagines #ateez royalty au

693 notes · View notes

the-tiniest-one · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! I saw you asking for requests to be sent in. I was wondering if you could do headcanons for kakashi and gai (separately) with a plus size civilian s/o? Or one or the other? Thank you in advance ❤

MIGHT GUY

SO we all know Guy is ALL about 3 things. Youth. Passion. Protecting Precious People….and guess what? When you happen to cross paths with the Leaf Village’s Blue Beast, he trips over himself to let you know just how PRESH you are.

I don't see your status as a civilian as much of a road block for him. He needs someone grounded and with soft hands to hold.

Someone who will think he’s the strongest man in the world, a superhero.

He protects the ones he loves with his life and once you're in that circle there is no way out of this man’s giant heart.

You somehow enter Guy’s line of sight, maybe on a walk to class or work too early in the morning…. and from that moment you pass by and he catches sight of your pretty face, he is out for the count.

Now. Lets remember….Guy is CONFIDENT (sometimes more in spirit than in actual ability, he is the fake-it-till-you-make-it KING).

Also important to note: Guy is NOT the same as Rock Lee in his pursuit of women. He’s not about to blow every kiss at you from the jump or shamelessly confess everything out right. Don't get me wrong, he’s shameless….but Guy wants to be seen as someone cool, sexy, a real macho/mighty man... He wants to be slick Kakashi his eternal rival. He’s going to try to be velvety smooth….without success.

He would find any excuse to be in your eye line while flexing or saving a poor disguised student he employed for his contrived scheme, in this case... Neji or Lee in a dress from falling off a building LOL. (“They would be asking him to please explain again how this is training?”)------You might be a civilian. But Genjutsu of that level does NOT work on you LOL.

You are the one to finally introduce yourself to a slumped and defeated Guy after about a week of his adorable attempts at trying to bate you in with his goober acts.

“Hello, my name is (y/n). I was hoping maybe you would like to get a drink sometime?” you say with a half smile.

He would raise his head, teeth BEAMING….the power of youth always prevails!

Best. Decision. Ever. Guy charming and not to mention SHREDDED.

When he accepts your date offer, He would stand and grin, maybe saying something a little cocky like; “A handsome, war hardened devilish shinobi such as myself will always find time to satiate the voracious desires of such a heavenly woman so bursting with the essence springtime.”

He would be so so so respectful.

That being said, you're HIGH AF if you think you aren't making a B-line to walk by Kakashi on the way so Guy can tactfully walk by loudly so that his rival notices he’s with a cute girl.

He’s going to be the chivalrous type. The kind of man who makes sure your hands are around his giant bicep whenever he escorts you anywhere….which from this point on is almost anytime he is home from missions or not training.

Guy is perfect. He’s tall, JACKED, and such a sweet loving man.

He is obsessed with your shampoo. His nose is always in your hair.

Lets face it. Guy is 100% the most physical man that has ever walked the streets of Konoha. If you aren't big on touching, then his is not the man for you.

One hand will always be around your waist, holding your hand, arm around your neck, locked on your curves or anywhere else….respeeeectfully of course.

He will always be up on you and in your face so get ready for that LOL.

He will be proud of you. He will be boisterous to an exhausting level about your achievements.

He will be exhilarating in every way.

One of Guy’s greatest strengths is also one of his most unfortunate downfalls. He is wildly protective. Never underestimate his ferocity when it comes to you. You may have to communicate more than once where the line is when it comes to him watching over you. Even though you aren’t skilled in combat as he is, you also are not a child and he will take some time to learn what you require and what you don’t.

He always means well.

You have some faults and things to work on as well. Guy is tender as hell, an emotional, hot blooded, love sick fool who can and WILL take things you say to heart so be sure if you notice him freaking out or trying too hard to make you happy, to hold him and let me know often that he is perfect the way he his.

In the end all of the passions and butterflies that Guy provokes from your heart are entirely justified.

He will ask you to marry him after a date, probably at sunset, one knee, giant ring he spent way too much on.

He claims you deserve the world and you tell him that instead of the world “you would settle for just having his hands, his lips, and his heart.”

Do your best to return his love to the best of your ability because not everyone gets the chance to be loved by the Hidden Leafs Handsome Blue Beast.

KAKASHI

I’ve never seen Kakashi as someone who would end up with another shinobi bombshell.

Instead I think he would find himself interested in someone who is a total badass in another line of work.

Example; You first encounter him one day while advising Lady Tsunade on the information the Hidden Leaf Village (and a few others) pay’s your company large sums of money to collect, aggregate, and report.

Kakashi stands guard during the meeting, watching you speak with an eloquent grace and authority he finds captivating and maybe a little seductive.

By then end of the meeting he is curious about you...wondering what you thought of him, what you think about everything.... You never even look his way.

He falls in line with you as we escorts you out of the building, walking beside you in the otherwise empty stairwell.

You smirk and take the liberty of speaking first. “Did you enjoy the show Scarecrow?”

From that moment on he’s hooked.

Now I also don’t find the idea of him falling for someone with some FULL curves to be all that outlandish….He has never given .00000001% of a shit what other people think.

He also shares the famous Pervy Sage’s taste in “women he describes from research” and romantic books about women shaped like gourds so with that logic in mind….dude likes thicc, full, curvaceous women for sure. It's basically cannon at this point ;)

Kakashi is someone who has learned emotional detachment through pain. You are the first person who shows promise in tearing down those defenses.

Your relationship not necessarily a slow burn. Kashi isn’t a kid, just because he hasn’t fallen head over heals with anyone before, doesn’t mean he is a mystery to himself or oblivious to his feelings.

That being said, I do think he will protect you by keeping a relationship with you under wraps for the first year or so.

If anything EVER happened to you….he wont let that happen.

The secrecy could be hard on you at first.

Watching more than a few women flirt shamelessly with your Kashi is beyond ROUGH.

Especially considering most of them are tough as nails ninja women with perfect bodies. You aren't used to feeling threatened by other people men or women, so you have a hard time learning how to deal with it.

Kakashi is always quick to remind you that he is serious about your relationship though.

He looks at you with a ferocity only seen by people who are no longer alive. His voice is low and serious when he gets close and tells you, “(Y/N) You are my entire life. I will never leave you. I promise I am yours until the day I die.”

After a few times of him promising you that he really is in love with you, you believe him and can be secure in his word.

As his girlfriend, you take his breath away.

The way you speak, move, sleep….

Even the way you casually conduct yourself at home and in public makes him more than proud to know who you are. Let alone get to go home to you.

Guy is the first one to catch on believe it or not. He notices Kakashi peaking over the top of his book at you as you walk down the opposite side of the street. He’s known Kakashi since they were kids, he puts a reassuring hand on your boyfriends shoulder and vows without spoken words to protect you when Kakashi can’t be there….and Kakashi understands. It helps him sleep just a little better knowing he has help.

Stargazing on a rooftop one chilly autumn night, Kakashi grabs your hand and proposes to you with a small silver ring, slightly ashamed for it’s lack of a stone.

“I want you to be my wife.” is all he says and you wrap your arms around him whispering in his ear “You have had my heart since the first day I met you…. And you always will.”

His heart melts into a puddle at the sound of you telling him he will have a wife. Finally have family that loves him this much.

215 notes · View notes

magickastiel · 3 years ago

Text

✨ B&B's Christmas Advent Calendar ✨

2nd December - hang lights & garland

I am, once again, attempting to write one story through different prompts. I really enjoyed it last time so let's see if I can do it through December!

check out the other days

Summary: Just a month after defeating Chuck, Sam & Dean are faced with their first real Christmas. Eileen, Jody, Donna, Claire & Kaia descend on the Bunker for a Christmas celebration like no other. But for Dean, Castiel's confession still weighs heavy. It might be easier to deal with if Cas was actually around to talk to but he and Jack are busy in Heaven. Surely they don't have time to come home for Christmas...do they?

💡

“Claire! Claire - look! I’m glowing!”

Jack is totally wrapped in the tree lights, grinning as they cover him in warm gold - not unlike his grace. Dean is about to point that out when Claire rolls her eyes and says,

“You can glow by yourself, dummy.”

She’s trying to act tough, but there’s no sharpness to her voice and she ducks her head to cover the small smile on her face.

Dean is almost knocked over with a wave of affection. This is why they fought so hard for so long. These kids are good. Dumb and wild and stupid sometimes, but good. That realisation makes another hit him harder and much colder. The way he treated Jack.

Dean’s done some horrible things in his life, things he’ll never really let go.

But watching Jack laugh with Claire makes him think about how bad it was. Makes him think about how annoyed his mom would be.

Mary would have dragged him over the coals for the way he’s treated the kid.

Strangely, that makes him smile.

“I’m glad they get along.”

Cas’ voice, low and soft, jolts him like icy water. But there’s nothing cold in the half-smile on the angel’s face as he watches his kids decorate. Dean shivers all the same.

“Yeah.” He crosses his arms and his fingers cling to his red flannel. It’s safer that way. He doesn’t know what his hands would do if he keeps them unoccupied.

Cas’ shoulder brushes his and Dean feels like he’s been electrocuted.

He risks another glance but Cas is still watching the kids.

Dean bites the inside of his cheek as a wave of annoyance rolls over him. It isn’t fair. How come Cas gets to say...what he said...and then carry on his life as normal?

Dean would be mortified. If he’d told his best friend that and got nothing back, he’d...well, he wouldn’t be standing next to him acting like nothing happened, that’s for sure.

Hell, Dean is mortified. He can feel his face heating, his fingers twitching, his toes curling.

Cas is perfectly still, head a little tilted and his face all soft.

God damn it.

He should say something. Why the hell hasn’t he said something? Dean knows his chance has gone - he stumbled over that when Cas came back, blinking and confused, from the Empty weeks ago.

That was Dean’s moment. And he blew it. He said buddy and man and clapped him on the back like he was a casual acquaintance he’d ran into at the grocery store.

“Jack, those lights are going to get hot if you keep them on.”

He only notices how warm Cas is next to him when he’s gone. He wanders over to Jack and gently unwinds the set of lights.

“They can’t hurt me.” Jack says with a serene smile but lets Cas take them off anyway. “I am God.”

Claire laughs. “Dude, you can’t use that for everything. ‘Sides, your dumb Christmas sweater might catch on fire.”

“Exactly.”

“No fires in the Bunker!” Dean chips in playfully because he thinks he should. He tries not to wince when he sees Jack’s smile slip a little when they lock eyes.

“Of course.” Jack says, with the tone of a chastised child. “We should...put them on the tree.”

“Right, yeah.” Dean forces a smile and Jack forces one back.

“Dean can help you put them on.” Cas says looking between them slowly. “Claire, would you like to help me wind this garland around the stair rail? I believe that will be the best place for it.”

Claire huffs like Cas is being embarrassing but is quick enough to follow him.

Jack holds the lights in his hands and looks at him, half expectant, half cautious.

Dean has never wanted a drink more.

#i swear one of these prompts i'll actually write them DOING the activity rather than just talking about it!!!#b&badventcalendar #destiel #destiel fic #spn fic #spn #supernatural #mine

65 notes · View notes

arty-shadow-morningstar · 4 years ago

Text

Graveyard Siblings (5)

[Masterlink] (PART 1) (PART 4)

-----

Mari and Cass sometimes switch their suits as they have the same body type. Cass would sometimes go out in full Hellbat gear and give the appearance that Hellbat is out more often than she actually is.

So Orphan/Black Bat also sometimes uses guns.

This also helps with concealing secret identities. Maria was rescued by Hellbat from Joker’s Henchmen. (Vicki Vale was getting sus of the new Wayne and Hellbat.)

Unfortunately since Hellbat rarely comes out and she had already made all of her appearance for the month and it wasn’t a busy weekend, the public had come to the conclusion that Hellbat has a crush on the newest Wayne.

Basically everyone thought that Mari has a crush on herself. Which led to some teasing and escalated to Mari announcing that Jason had a crush on Red Hood on live TV.

It didn’t help that a video of Red Hood and Jason re-enacting Romeo and Juliet with Jason on his apartment balcony and Red Hood on the roof was posted on the internet a few days later. (Thank you, Trixx and Tim’s awesome video editing skills)

Sadly, it was taken down 24 hours later. (Tim and the others have multiple copies of it, on the cloud or hardware, hidden around in the manor and their respective safehouses in the US.)

Some people kidnapped Jason to hopefully gain leverage over the Red Hood and to their dismay and nightmares for years to come, Hellbat came instead.

One lucky and incredibly brave reporter asked why she was there instead of her brother.

Mari being a little shit, “Red Hood may be a tough and scary guy but when it comes to his feelings, my brother is a chicken.”

Pictures of Jason tackling Hellbat somehow never made it into any papers.

The criminal underworld hasn’t taken a hint and Jason has been kidnapped a few more times.

Other times Jason was kidnapped:

Robin: Red Hood made a fool of himself in front of Todd recently and he doesn’t dare to show his face.

Spoiler: He was taking too damn long checking his hair even though I told him that no one was going to see it under his helmet and he was so offended that he is currently sulking in the bathroom.

Red Robin: Red Hood can’t think straight when he is around Jason. I mean have you seen the dude.

Arsenal*during a rare visit to Gotham*: Red Hood owes me one now.

Dick finally ends it by going out as Red Hood and rescuing Jason. Gotham is happy that Redson (Red Hood x Jason) ship has finally sailed.

-------

Kate, Babs, Cass, Steph and Mari were out on Mari’s first girls’ night since her move to the manor.

This is set a little after she came back from Paris with Jason.

They watched rom-com movies, did hair and nails, gossip about the superhero community and bitch and vent to each other.

Marinette off-handedly mentioned the crazy shits she had done during her stint as Ladybug. It started with asking about the T-rex in the Batcave and she mentions jumping into the mouth of a live one before.

Everyone in the room was shocked and after a few more questions, it was obvious that she was very reckless and self-sacrificing. Yep, she was going to fit into this crazy family just fine.

And Holy Shit. There is so much trauma packed into this kid. She needs lots of therapy.

Babs finally decided that they all needed to get out and have some fun. All in their respective suits and they went out.

Joined by Harley, Ivy and Selina.

Plagg came along because I want Plagg to meet Selina.

It was a chaotic night and it was a miracle that Bruce didn’t find out about what the girls did.

-------

Batman and Red Hood were on patrol together when Selina jumped in front of them.

“Hello, Boys”

“What do you want, Catwoman?”

“I want to meet my new prodigy, Kitty Noire.”

Cue Marinette jumping down from her hiding spot, transformed with the Black Cat Miraculous. “Hiya.”

Red Hood carries her like a potato sack and points his gun at the other two.

“Nope, she’s my sister and I called dibs. I adopted her. She’s off limits.”

“Legally, she’s mine.” Batman coughed out.

“I did it first. Emotionally. She’s my emotional support sister. You have plenty kids already, B and Selina, get your own.”

“Hey, I am still here and can hear you.”- Maria

-------

Alya was worried for Lila. She had been acting weirdly for the past month.

She looked very out of sorts. Her clothes weren’t in order and her hair was in disarray. She had bags under her eyes and her eyes looked wild. Lila didn’t look like herself at all.

She jumped at any sound and flinched at really sudden movements.

Alya tried to find out what was wrong with Lila and received vague answers.

One time Lila said that Marinette is to blame.

Alya reaches the somewhat right conclusion that Marinette was haunting Lila and hurting her because Lila used to come to school with bruises and claims that Marinette did it.

Alya goes to Marinette’s grave to desecrate it. (Yeah, go anger the ghost that is haunting someone.)

Unfortunately, the moment she tries to do something, the sky turns dark, clouds appear and the wind begins whipping. A Lightning strike near her and there was a cloaked figure beside her with a scythe.

All Alya saw from the figure was the blood-red lips in a very sharp grin and glowing blue eyes, raising the scythe high before she ran away. The scythe swiped the air where her head once was.

Alya didn’t get far before she tripped and blacked out.

When she woke up, she found herself in the hospital with no idea how she got there.

She was told that somebody found her with a concussion in the park and took her to the hospital.

------

The next one on Mari’s hit list was Natalie.

She wasn’t as involved in the whole thing like Lila, Adrien or Gabriel but she still did it anyways.

Her punishment is a little mild compared to the others and was more of a warning to Gabriel.

Natalie woke up in the middle of the night to see a not-so-dead Ladybug sitting on her vanity chair with the moonlight from the windows illuminating her body and her neck. Her suit was torn exactly like the day of that battle with blood dripping down her arms and from her open wounds. The shadows kept her face hidden but glowing blue eyes stared at her.

Natalie was scared at first. But she regained her normal cool composure.

“I assume you are here to extract your revenge for aiding in your unfortunate demise. But before you kill me, I regret my part in my entire thing and I apologize for everything I have done against you even though I knew it was wrong.”

“At least you show remorse over what you have done. Visiting my grave when even my parents didn’t and leaving flowers. I love those purple hyacinths by the way. Did you know that they mean sorry in the language of the flowers?”

“Why are you stalling my death? Just kill me already.”

“Madam Sancouer. You just played a minor role in my downfall compared to what Adrien and Lila Rossi did to me. And you showed more guilt over your actions than they ever did and Adrien claimed to have loved me. And like I have told the Bats, Death is too swift of a punishment.”

“Who are the bats?”

“None of your concern. You should be more concerned about yourself.”

“Lila sees the ghosts of her past and they haunt her. Adrien is in a living nightmare and has no control over his actions and is despised by everyone. What are you going to do to me?”

“Well, since you show some guilt over your actions, let me tell you a little secret. I am not dead. Not really. I mean I did die. But there was a spell in the grimoire that revived me. It took a few days to work.”

Marinette changed to her normal form. It was a little jarring to see an older Marinette Dupain-Cheng sitting on her vanity chair like it was a throne. The Ladybug suit and the wounds were gone. She looked a little familiar.

“Why are you telling me this? What was the point?” Natalie faltered as she wondered why the girl looked familiar. Marinette moved closer and her face was fully illuminated by the moonlight.

“I intend to take everything by which I mean everything from Gabriel Agreste for what he did.”

“M. Agreste just wanted his wife back. You just gave him your Miraculous, you would still have everything.”

“What difference would it make? Sure I had friends and family before but they turned out to be disappointing. I might have become a famous designer like I dreamed of and can't achieve because I died. Besides, he never said about wanting his wife to come back in his tedious monologues. For all we knew back then, he wanted them for world domination. He showed that he would end the world for them. For kwamis’ sake, he nearly started World War III, just for a pair of earring and a ring. He was willing to kill me to have her back. No wait, he did that too. If he actually read the translated grimoire or asked the Guardian or at least someone with magic for help instead or maybe used his head and made some who can heal as his champion using the Butterfly, we wouldn’t even be in this mess. Face it, Mme Sancour, your boss is a power-hungry and very controlling maniac who is also thankfully an idiot.”

“But- he- he just-. You are just a child, what do you know? M. Agreste knew what he was doing.”

“A child who had a normal life up until he tried to ruin it with his idiotic schemes and hiring Lila to do it. A child who had to fight a war on her own.”

“I am sorry you had to go through that but I doubt you and your little revenge rampage is going to solve anything.”

Ghostly Chains wrapped around Natalie’s body, squeezing tight like it was squeezing the life out of her.

“I was all for sparing you, you know. If you had actually listened to my side of the story, you would have spared from my ‘little revenge rampage’. This is going to be a little painful. Sorry about that.” In a tone that was definitely not sorry.

Pain coursed through Natalie’s body. Her skin crawled and itched as pitch back feathers grew out of it. Her bones turned to dust and reformed.

Where Natalie Sancour once was, there was a raven.

An omen of death and destruction for one Gabriel Agreste.

Marinette leaned down towards the raven. Natalie tried to peck her eye out but Marinette held the beak in a firm grip.

“Ah. ah ah. Luckily for you this is temporary. Mostly. Every night, you will assume this shape and each night the longer you will stay in this form. Slowly counting down the days until Gabriel’s downfall. Since you love helping him so much, you are going to help him know how long he has to live. The night you are a raven from sunset to sunrise, that sunrise starts the day Gabriel Agreste will be utterly destroyed.”

She released the beak and headed towards the window.

"Send him my regards."

With that, she was gone.

(Part 6)

#platonic jasonette #graveyard siblings #maribat #ml x dc #marinette meets the sirens

390 notes · View notes

kashimos-hajime · 4 years ago

Text

the girl in purple (1/8) | r.b.

summary: In his mind, you’re wearing the white blouse and long purple skirt again, long riding boots covering dark pants, innocent smile on your face as you wait for him in the noon sunlight. Or, four years ago, Bertholdt asked for a favour and you said yes.

WARNINGS: swearing, ass jokes, flashbacks and flashforwards, mostly fluff and banter, pining and angst at the end, bertholdt is our soft best friend <3 pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 5.0k

a/n: pt 1 of 8 of a birthday present for the legend, the icon, the bad bitch herself, ISABEL!!@!@!@ @luciilferss ALSO, song not mine! it’s the sea shanty called wellerman.

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

You sigh, wiping the back of your hand before grabbing the next hay bale that needed to be lifted to the loft. Your back aching, you grit your teeth as you lug it towards the ladder. It’s the last one and after a sweaty afternoon, you just want to get into bed. Hopefully Annie did end up getting you supper—you had to work through it just so Shadis didn’t get your ass up tomorrow to finish the job.

“Here, let me help.”

“Oh, thank you,” you reply, glancing to see your savior and a warmth shoots through your body when you realize it’s Bertholdt. “You know if Shadis catches you helping me, it’s going to be hell to pay, right?” The boy smiles, shrugging, and you can’t help your own grin as he gestures for you to climb up. Skirting up the ladder, you turn around to take the hay bale and pushing it towards the corner before jumping down and dusting off your hands. Stable clean-up is never fun, but with autumn right around the corner, they all want to get a head start before the chill sets in.

“I wanted to ask you a favour.”

“I knew there had to be a reason you were in here,” you tease. “Shoot.”

“Well, we have visiting privileges next weekend,” Bertholdt continues as you walk around the stables, picking up tools as you make your way towards where the broom is leaning against the wall. The tall boy ambles after you and you shoot him an amused look, curiosity pricking at your fingers.

Half-way through their training in the corps, and Bertholdt still manages to keep you guessing. You don’t know what it is about him, but your friend’s always been the quiet one. It’s part of why you like being around him, but you just wish his friend liked you. Annie seems more than fine with you.

Reiner, on the other hand, can barely even look at you. It’s a real downer.

“I was just wondering…”

“You should ask Annie,” you cut off before he can finish, picking up the broom to begin sweeping the stray hay into a neat pile. Bertholdt’s spine goes ramrod straight and his cheeks redden so intensely you can’t help but laugh. “I’m pretty sure she would say yes. You guys are friends, right?”

“Yes, but we’re—we’re not—why would I ask Annie, specifically?” he stammers. The horses neigh as you walk past, their necks stretching out for treats but you ignore them, heading for the entrance. “She could go with a bunch of other people.”

“Yeah, but she always goes with me.” Glancing at Bertholdt, your eyes narrow when he smacks his forehead, covering his flustered expression miserably. Poking him in the gut with the handle of your broom, you continue, “And she only likes a few people here. You’re one of them, Bertl.”

“Well, if you think so. I mean, you’re her dorm mate, not me, so… argh!” he groans as you walk past him, sweeping. “You’re not helping!”

“Helping with what?” you ask innocently, not paying him a second look. You hear him let out a sigh as you brush hay to the back of the stables. “You’re the one who wanted a favour.”

“Yeah, and I still need to tell you.”

“Literally no one’s stopping you, Bertholdt.” Another resigned sigh. “Okay. Okay. Ask me. I promise I won’t tease you for the next ten minutes.” Turning around, you rest your broom against the post between two stalls. A horse nudges at your face and you scratch the stallion’s chin as Bertholdt walks closer. His eyes inspect your own expression, searching for trickery, but you only grin.

Then, he drops his crossed arms and says, “Someone wants to ask you out next weekend for our visit to Trost.”

“Er, okay? Why didn’t they just ask me themselves?” Crossing your own arms, you lean against the post, the lantern hanging above your head and casting everything in a warm glow. It softens Bertholdt’s smile as he shrugs mischievously. “Who was it?”

“Reiner.”

“Reiner?” His name is punched out of you, sharp with shock, and your broom slides off the post, clattering to the floor between the two cadets as you stare at Bertholdt.

“Mhm?”

“Reiner Braun.”

“Yep.”

“We know the same one, don’t we?”

“Blond, makes ass jokes, this tall?” he shoots back, raising a hand that comes just near his ear. You nod. “Yeah.”

“But he hates me.”

“What? No, he doesn’t. Why would you think that?” Bertholdt’s eyebrows knit together and you stare at him incredulously, not sure if he’s joking or not. Shaking your head, you let out a scoff and bend down to pick up your broom to continue your sweeping. Mind a swirl, you try to reconcile the Reiner, who has never said more to you than ‘pass the grease’ during ODM maintenance and ‘you have dirt on your chin’ after forest exercises, with the Reiner who had to ask Bertholdt to ask you out for him.

Sounds fake, but you digress.

“Okay,” you drawl, unable to help the disbelief from creeping into your voice. “This was a good attempt at a joke, but you need to try harder next time.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“Why would I ever believe you?”

“Because I would never li—make something up like that,” he says, correcting himself, and you send him a strange look. “Just… when we get to Trost, you know that bakery that sells the stuffed cream buns. The one you mentioned before?”

“Yeah. Annie likes them,” you inform him pointedly, and Bertholdt’s mouth drops open to argue but he seems to think better of it this time.

“Yes, that one.” Fighting a furious blush on his cheeks, he continues, “If you’re there at noon, you’ll see I’m not lying.”

“And if I’m not there?”

“Reiner will be very sad for the rest of his life,” Bertholdt declares and you can’t help your serious expression from sliding off. “Will you please just consider it?”

Staring at your friend, you study his expression. It’s completely genuine, open, eyes wide and you feel a part of you melting at how adorable he is. For such a tall guy, he’s so goddamn gentle it blows your mind he’s a fighter. You can’t see him hurting even so much as a fly.

It’s for that reason you relent. Because Bertholdt’s never gone out of his way to scheme your downfall. He doesn’t have that in him. “Fine,” you say after a moment. “Fine, I’ll consider it.”

When Reiner steps back into the port city, he can’t help but think what he always thinks when he gets off a battlefield. Four years, and every thought is the same. Routine, almost. Or maybe, a habit to keep something alive.

And he almost takes comfort in it. That you would’ve loved it here. In Marley—Liberio, or otherwise. There are so many kinds of sweets, pastries, so many sights to see—the water stretches on for miles and miles, and you could’ve tried seafood. Maybe you would’ve liked it.

You never tried seafood. He promised. He promised—

Fucking hell.

He steps out of the barracks, insides twisting into a tight knot as the sun blinds him. Lifting a hand, he squints and blinks, trying to get used to the brightness as people pass him by. Galliard’s voice trails after him like a ghost, and he scowls to himself, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He feels like he hasn’t slept a wink, and his body aches in places so deep he can’t rub it out.

“I saw you through her memories. You acted like the tough, reliable type. Not at all like yourself. And you were with that girl. Who was she to you, anyway, Reiner? Because my brother would have never cozied up with the enemy.”

Cozied up with the enemy. It’s as much as implying fraternization as anything and Reiner had barely chained back the words that would’ve torn both him and Galliard to shreds.

Don’t you fucking dare reduce her to just some promise I broke ever again. It stopped meaning something to me years ago.

Shaking his head free of Galliard’s voice, an image of you flashes through his mind to replace it and the urge to send a fist into his own face lances down his arm, but he barely restrains himself from doing so. Instead, he tightens his hand until his nails dig into his palm.

You’re always the one thing he can’t shake, nor does he think he wants to.

Hollow, his feet drag his battered body towards the harbour.

As he walks along the water, he hear some of the fishermen whistle and sing their shanties. It takes him a moment to recognize they’re all singing the same song, and he’s thrown back to when he came to the port the first time he was to go off to Paradis, how he committed the shanties to memory so he could take something with him to what was supposed to be an Island of Devils.

It makes his entire body ache, the uplifting tune filling his body up until he can’t possibly breathe. The way the sailors all sing together, smiling at each other—the camaraderie.

“Soon may the Wellerman come, to bring us sugar and tea and rum, one day when the toungin’ is done, we’ll take our leave and go…”

He misses that the most.

The sun is hanging in the centre of the sky as you glance from your plate to your surroundings. The fountain is full of life, people milling around the edges, tossing coins in and making wishes, and you hide a smile behind your hand when you watch a group of kids trying to flick their coins to the top most basin of the structure. The tiny plink-plink is barely heard, but either way, their groans of disappointment are far more amusing.

It helps pass the time at least, while you waste away your afternoon waiting for someone you’re not even sure will come. Dressed in a white blouse tucked into a long dark purple skirt that covers your pants, you cross one leg over the other as you wait.

You don’t even know why you’re here. Bertholdt had all but avoided your questions for the past week, and Annie didn’t budge, although, it’s harder for the blonde to slip. Being bunkmates helps, but not that much.

You keep people-watching, glancing up at the sky occasionally to see if any birds pass over, your bread untouched. Glancing up and down the street, you rest your chin glumly on the palm of your hand, elbow resting on the table.

No pretty blond head in sight.

Groaning, you lift your head when one of the waiters approaches, asking if you wanted anything more. You shake your head, a warmth spreading over your face and watching him go when a shadow falls over your table.

“Oh, you got something to eat already.”

Head jerking to the voice, you look up in surprise at whoever’s blocking your sunlight. Standing upright, your chair clatters against cobblestone as you clear your throat.

“You’re actually here,” you blurt out to both of their surprise and Reiner rocks back on his heels, running a hand through his short hair. His eyebrows struggle to meet his hairline and he smiles sheepishly.

“Sorry I’m late. Uh, sit down. I just… got lost.” You sink back into your chair and he takes the seat down across from yours nervously. He’s dressed in a pale green button up and darker slacks, but for once, he’s not scowling at you and you offer a slight smile. “How… how are you?”

“I’m okay. Slow morning.” He nods. You glance at your plate and nudge it towards him awkwardly. “I got it for you. It’s my favourite. I dunno what Bertl told you about me, or… why I’m even here, honestly.”

He picks up the bun tentatively, and you look down at your boots as he takes a bite, too nervous to watch his reaction.

What if he hates sweet things? What if he can’t drink cow milk? Don’t you remember? What if it makes him shit his pants—

“Oh, wow. I need to come to this place more often,” Reiner mumbles, taking another huge bite and your gaze flits to his face as he chews. His eyes are focused solely on the bun in a way that reminds you a lot like Sasha, and the corner of your mouth pulls into a pleased hint of a smile. “This is heaven…”

“You like it?”

A noise escapes the blond and eyes jerk to meets yours as if he just remembered you were there and you tear your eyes away, clasping your hands together on the table. You close your eyes. Can the embarrassment just swallow you up already?

Reiner clears his throat, taking the cup of water left out for him after a quick point and your nod. He drains it to buy them both time, and your thumbs rub together. If you just walk away now, would it be too bad? You could probably find Annie or Jean pretty easily. Bertholdt’s probably just exploring the city with… if you had to hazard a guess, maybe Armin? They both like the architecture—stuff like that.

Honestly, you have no idea.

Porcelain rests against wood as Reiner nods. “I do. I didn’t know you had a sweet tooth.”

“Er, yeah. Since I was a kid. We didn’t have much, uh, variety, so stuff like this was kinda a delicacy. I grew up at this orphanage where we worked the fields.” You shift in your seat as Reiner continues to eat, and you sigh silently to yourself. Why did you give up an afternoon looking at paint supplies with Jean for an awkward date like this?

Wait, this is a date right? That’s what Bertholdt said. Ask you out. Those were his words, right?

“Where are you from?”

“Just inside Wall Maria, so when Shiganshina was breached, we had more time to move inward,” you explain briefly. “But we mostly ate what we grew for crops. I mean, it’s not like we could buy cream buns every day, you know?” Reiner nodded silently, and you give him an uneasy smile, feeling the need to elaborate. “Ever since we joined the corps, they send me money for birthdays and stuff. I don’t know.” You clear your throat. “Anyway, I just thought you might like the bun.”

“Even though you think I hate you?”

“Wha—“ A strangled noise comes out of your mouth. “Who told you that?”

“Why would you think that, anyway?”

“Because all you do is glare at me,” you say pointedly. Crossing your arms over your chest, you shoot him a narrowed look. “And scowl. And you generally avoid being anywhere near me. I mean, do I stink to you or something, Braun, because I have news for you—“

“I don’t hate you. I actually really like you,” he tells you bluntly, cutting your rant in half, and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Reiner looks down at the empty plate, crossing his own arms and leaning forward on them.

“Y-you like me?” you stammer and his cheeks redden.

“I mean, if Annie likes someone, I’m inclined to believe that they’re worth my time.”

Frowning, your shoulders slump. Gears turning, your expression scrunches up as you think aloud. “But, you asked Bertholdt to ask me out for you. Unless this is a dumb dare—wait.” You sit upright, twisting around to see if any of the other boys are milling around the plaza. Scanning for brown hair, or grey hair, or even blond hair, your cheeks begin to burn at the idea that someone’s watching you embarrass yourself but a hand on your elbow brings your gaze reeling back to Reiner.

A smile curls his lips impishly, but his eyes are resolute, calmer. Even still, he looks like he’s trying to fight a small panic rising up inside him, just like you are as he tells you to relax.

“This isn’t a dare,” he says. “I’m not that cruel.”

“I’ve seen you do worse to Titan dummies.”

“Exactly. I just wanted to get to know you better. Bertholdt offered to help me out since you guys are already friends, and I thought what the hell.”

You turn that explanation over in your head tentatively and a part of you recognizes it makes sense. Despite your hesitation, you know you only said yes because it was Bertholdt who asked you.

Otherwise, how inclined were you to say yes if it had been Reiner stalking up to you and asking you to hang out in Trost? How likely would it have been that you would be sitting here instead of walking along the stalls with Sasha and Connie?

“I’m kinda ashamed I don’t know you that well,” Reiner continues, fighting off tones you can’t decipher laced in his voice. Your brow furrows. “But I want to fix that, if you’d let me.”

Dazedly, you repeat, “Fix… that?”

He nods and you simply stare at him, trying to get your mouth to work. It’s like he stole all the words from your mouth and time seems to slow as your lips part.

Absently, you realize his hand is still touching your elbow, fingers firm but not tight, and you swallow, studying his expression. Golden light plays on his face, sharpening the shadows of his nose and cheeks and lips, and yet everything about him seems to soften. Normally, you see him as hard rigid lines, like the shape of armour, and there is always an imposing aura around him that has become more muted now that he’s sitting beside you.

And you believe it. That he doesn’t hate you.

Maybe he really, really doesn’t, and you’d be an idiot if you don’t take up the offer.

So you stand up abruptly, and pull your arm out of his grip before slipping your hand into his.

“Fine,” you annouce, pulling him up. His eyes widen and you lead him away from the café with a small grin to yourself. A new plan begins to formulate in your mind as they step into the welcoming sun. Reiner’s long strides catch up to yours and he falls into step beside you. His stare burns into your cheek and you only tighten your grip on his hand as you lift your chin haughtily at him. “What do you say to a game of twenty questions?”

His eyebrows shoot up, but then a smug smile pulls at his mouth and he squeezes your hand back. “Sounds perfect, creampie. I promise, I’ll be perfectly honest.”

“Creampie?” you repeat dumbly, eyebrows shooting up and a horrible burning licking at your heart. Reiner gives you a vulgar smile and you let go of his hand, shaking your head and smacking his arm before looking down at the ground. Half of you wishes the ground would open up and swallow you whole—the other half thinks you’ll die of embarrassment before that. “How do you even know what that is?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You straighten up, spine straight as an arrow. Flustered, you stutter, “That’s none of your business.”

He tilts his head back and laughs. “Guess that was your first question, then, huh? Bold start. Surprised me, too, creampie, so that gets you bonus points.”

“What? Wait—no! That doesn’t count!”

Walking past the hospital every day, it feels almost ritual to look past the gates and into the courtyard. Sometimes there are patients milling around, doing their daily physical activity, or nurses and other workers walking through to get a break from all the depressing shit that must be going on in there, and Reiner always, always, wonders if he should be in there with the rest of them.

It’s why he turns his head on reflex now, peering through iron-wrought gates. No one’s inside except for a pair walking through the path and he stops for a moment, watching.

One of them is most definitely a woman, a hat covering her head and a long coat the shade of plums. A white Eldian armband is stark against the shade of her clothes. Meanwhile the other looks like he’s been dragged through hell. With one leg, he hobbles along with his crutch, black hair streaming past his shoulders, and he’s ragged, white shirt kind of messy from where Reiner stands. The Eldian armband is wrapped tight along his bicep. But he stands straight-back, shoulders set, the gait of a soldier. Pride keeps him up, not strength.

He’s too far away to hear them speak, and they stick to the shadows of the hospital, but after a short moment, the woman wraps an arm around the one not desperately holding onto the crutch, leaning in closer towards the man as if he has the most riveting thing to say.

For a moment, it is not a woman in a purple jacket and a veteran with one leg but two cadets walking the streets of Trost, sunlight shining down on them warmly. The blond boy leans to listen to the girl beside him, smiling until he thought his cheeks would fall off.

“This is your last question, Reiner. Make it count.”

“Hm… alright, if you could do anything in the world, anything at all, what would you do? No Titans, no soldiers. Let’s say there was no war at all and you had unlimited resources, yadda, yadda, yadda…”

“Oh? Hm… I’d want to live where there’s a lot of water. Like a lake or something. I’d get to try all these foods I’ve never thought of before, and I’d, uh… I don’t know what I’d do for money. I guess I’d figure it out somehow.”

“Chopping down wood sounds fun.”

“Yeah, right! I’d rather chop my fingers off. Hm… Maybe I could raise some kids, like I was raised. Give them a home.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“I dunno. I like being responsible for things. It makes me feel like I’m needed, I guess. I don’t want a kid to grow up lonely like I did.”

“That… that sounds nice.”

“You could visit, you know. As long as you chop the firewood.”

Reiner blinks, and the two are gone. Not a hint of them are in sight, and a soft breath slips out between his lips. He must’ve been seeing things.

Shaking his head to himself, he turns away.

The past year and a half has been turbulent since you became friends with Reiner, but for some reason, you don’t think you would change the thing.

Not even when Connie would come at ghastly hours in the morning because “CAN YOU PLEASE TELL REINER TO STOP SNORING? We would but we’re too afraid of being crushed by the weight of his entire body. Thank you! You’re the best, seriously.”

Or when they’re studying and Reiner makes one too many jokes about how he could fuck a Titan, despite Bertholdt’s resigned sighs and you throwing a book at him, and it only gets you, “Keep acting like that and I’ll take a bite out of your juicy ass next, creampie,” and a heat that kisses at your face.

Not even after reclaiming Trost and losing yourself in his arms.

You feel something inside you shatter as the smell of ash tickles at your nose. Walking past the combat medics base they set up for the parameter of the recovery effort, you don’t even look up at any of your friends still left as you walk past. Your entire body burns from the aftermath of Trost, and you wonder if you’ll be able to even get up in the morning as you limp over to a secluded alleyway and lean against the stone.

You don’t know if you’ve ever fought for that long or hard in your life, and you can’t feel your legs anymore as you sink to the floor.

Too many bodies. There are too many bodies.

“Hey.”

Looking up, you pull your mask down when Reiner stands before you. Tearing the fabric off your neck, you draw your knees up and rest your arms on top of them, the mask hanging off your fingers limply. A strange relieving wave washes over you to know he’s still here, even surrounded by so much death.

“Hi,” you murmur. “It’s a lot.”

“Yeah,” he agrees simply, leaning in beside you and sliding down. Their knees knock into one another as he tugs his own mask down. Sweat glistens along his skin and his sleeves are rolled up as he clears his throat. “I’m glad you made it out.”

You smile faintly at him but it flickers out before it can find a place on your face. Looking at your hands, you imagine the rough skin of calluses forming on your palms still and you wish you could rip your gloves off but every part of you is too exhausted to move now. Softly, you tell him, “I’m glad you made it out, too. There are a few of us I haven’t really caught sight of. I know Eren’s squad is dead. I—“ you stop yourself. No way Reiner is interested in the fact that you had taken their deaths in stride because you had to in the moment and now you don’t think you can feel at all— “but… Marco. I haven’t seen him in days. Jean hasn’t seen him either.”

“M-Marco?” Reiner whispers and your eyes lift to look at him. “You haven’t found him yet?” Gaze widening at the colour draining from Reiner’s face, your stomach flips and a dread fills your entire being as you sit upright, your legs sliding down, your arms falling to the ground to prop yourself up. Lungs tightening, your lips part as if to form his name but no sound comes out.

You know what his silence means. His silence is death spelt out in glaring red letters—the same shade as blood.

But Marco?

Why Marco? A caustic voice screams inside you and your nails dig into the cobblestone as Reiner turns his face away, jaw clenching. Trying to breathe, the air stalls in your throat and your gut clenches as your gaze drifts to the street full of combat medics and doctors, other soldiers who still walk. What—what do you mean Marco isn’t one of them? You want to grab Reiner by the jacket, shake him until he makes sense, but instead you search for freckles behind every mask, stumbling to your feet. Marco never did anything wrong. He was supposed to join the MPs. He was our… our leader. He never did anything wrong.

He never did anything wrong. Never. Never. Not Marco. It can’t be. The thought tumbles through your head as you push yourself to your feet but your knees nearly give in on the first step and you stumble to the other side of the alleyway with a harsh noise. Shoulder crashing into the stone, your eyes squeeze tight and hot tears pour down your face as you clench your teeth, trying to chain back the sob that’s working through your body. Head hanging, your mouth pries open as an ugly moan comes out of you, so deep inside you that you want to crumble.

Days seem to pile onto your shoulders until you think your bones will break and your fingers curl into tight fists as you try to stop the tears from falling, but they keep coming, tracing your nose, pushing everywhere and everything is so hot. Shit, you can’t even breathe—

Hands take your shoulders and you let out a ferocious scream, thrashing yourself out of your grip but fingers only slide to your biceps, pulling you away from the wall as your boots slip against the cobblestone and then hands are on your wrists, pushing away your blind fists.

“Let me go! He’s dead, isn’t he?” you scream as he lets go of you for just a second to wrap his arms around you and you let out a shuddering breath as he crushes you in his embrace. “Reiner! Tell me! Marco’s dead!”

“Yes! Yes, he is!”

His words spear through your skull, sending electricity down your spine and your entire body goes limp as he collapses to his knees, you with him. Your arms at your side, your eyes blink open and you feel fresh tears fall down your face as he cups the back of your head, holding you to him and as something wet seeps into your shoulder, it’s as if you are set on fire.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

On their own accord, your arms come up under his and fingers hook onto his shoulders. Chest to chest, you swear your heart beats in a mournful beat with his, and his entire body collapses against yours. Eyes closing, you press yourself closer, hoping that the heat of his body will chase away the cold that’s rapidly spreading through your body.

Reiner’s arm around your waist tightens. You swallow hard against his shoulder.

“Please forgive me,” he whispers against your neck, wet cheek pressing against your jaw, and your chest stutters as you try to remember how to breathe.

“Reiner…”

You barely breathe his name. It only makes him curl tighter against you.

Liberio is colder at night than he remembers. He has to pull the blankets up to his chin, and still, he shivers.

Rolling onto his side, he can nearly imagine you staring back beside him, smiling, hand reaching to touch his face, and his eyes flutter shut when your fingers seem to pass through his cheek.

In his mind, you’re wearing the white blouse and long purple skirt again, long riding boots covering dark pants, innocent smile on your face as you wait for him in the noon sunlight.

By then, he had known there weren’t any devils on Paradis, but he’d never seen an angel until he saw you cast in gold.

304 notes · View notes