#kicking my own ass to finish that chapter

[ghost-bxrd]

YOU KNOW WHAT I AM DETERMINED TO POST THE NEXT CHAPTER OF OWL SONG ON WEDNESDAY AT THE LATEST!!!!

[juustozzi]

demonic iruma? yes. very self-conscious demonic iruma? yessss.

[leviathiane]

oh yeah as a heads up, will be updating guiding instinct soon!

[brunchable]

It's not a Meet-𝑪𝒖𝒕𝒆, it's a Meet-𝗨𝗴𝗹𝘆. 《 Chapter 1: Alpine the Traitor. 》

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: It's not a meet-cute, it's a meet ugly, Grumpy Meets ✨️Sunshine✨️, Opposites Attract, Sassy Pet Matchmaker, Enemies-to-Lovers (Lite), Destined to meet again, Bucky is a hidden softie. Summary: Breaking into a stranger’s apartment wasn’t on your weekend agenda, but neither was meeting the grumpy-yet-irresistible guy who owns the couch—and the cat—that you somehow claimed as your own. A/N: This story will be OUTSIDE of MCU but Bucky's traits will be mixed comics/mcu. I'm starting to feel sorry for this fanfic just sitting at the bottom of my files.🥲 Credits to me for the Banner lmfao. credits to @khaer for the divider.

tags: @winchestert101 @lomlbuckybarnes @lveegsoi @itsshellzy @almosttoopizza

@aami98 @hextech-bros @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917

Bucky had just finished hauling up the last of his bags from the car—bags that totally did not contain guns and knives—when he remembered his phone. Cursing under his breath, he jogged back down to grab it, leaving the door ajar. He barely noticed you—leaning heavily against the hallway wall, guiding yourself as if it were the only thing keeping you upright. 

You squinted at the numbers on his door, murmuring, “Close enough,” and stumbled inside, fully convinced you’d found your friend’s place.

Inside, you called out, “Sarah?” and squinted around the room. No answer. Instead, a small, white cat trotted up, eyeing you with a mix of caution and curiosity.

“Oh,” you cooed, crouching down with all the coordination of a newborn giraffe. “Sarah… Did you turn into a cat?” You narrowed your eyes, trying to decipher the situation. “Blink twice if you did.”

Alpine regarded you with a slow, deliberate blink—just one. But that was enough for you in your current state.

“Good enough,” you muttered, and, relieved to find some familiar “face,” you scooped her up and flopped onto the couch, pulling her onto your chest, where she curled up in a perfect loaf position. Alpine settled comfortably, purring like a tiny motor. Within moments, you’d passed out, leaving Alpine to stand guard.

When Bucky returned, he slammed the door shut, grumbling about the freezing cold. He shrugged off his coat and turned toward the kitchen, not noticing anything unusual—until he caught sight of a figure—clearly not his—was sprawled on his couch, hair fanned out over their face, Alpine loafed comfortably on their chest like this was some kind of routine.

He froze mid-step, staring in confusion. “What… the fuck?” 

Today, of all days, he’d planned to finally try that yoga routine his therapist had been nudging him about. Some deep breathing, a little stretching—it was supposed to help calm him down, give him a “reset” for the week. He’d even managed to get Sam off his ass about it, promising he’d “channel his inner Zen” or whatever the hell Sam had been calling it. But no, apparently not. He couldn’t even have a boring day without someone or something interrupting it. Why was that too much to ask?

Approaching cautiously, with a slight kick to your feet, he muttered, “Hey. Hey.”

Bucky then crouched down, pushing your hair back to get a look at your face. 

“Are you serious right now?” he muttered, folding his arms, staring at his cat as if this were somehow her fault.

Alpine responded with another blink, clearly unimpressed by Bucky’s lack of decorum. She even seemed to settle more firmly into her loaf position on top of you, as if claiming this random drunk intruder as her new, favored territory.

Bucky huffed, waving a hand at Alpine. “So you’re just… okay with this?”

Another blink. Obviously Bucky.

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Unbelievable. I’m out here, feeding you, scooping your litter box, and the first stranger who walks in, you act like we’re running some kind of Airbnb for drunks?”

Alpine gave him a barely noticeable shrug and started grooming a paw as if she couldn’t be less bothered then once she’s satisfied she began kneading your wool jacket over your chest.

You mumbled something incoherent, and Alpine lifted her head, giving Bucky an irritated blink, as though he’d just disrupted her personal masseuse session. You need to be quiet.

“Oh, she’s real cozy, huh?” he muttered at Alpine, who merely blinked at him, still looking protective. Bucky scoffed, not quite believing the attitude his own cat was giving him. 

“Unbelievable. You’re supposed to be a guard cat,” he grumbled under his breath. “I leave for two minutes…”

Bucky tapped your shoulder with growing impatience. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. You wanna explain why you’re passed out on my couch?”

You groaned, one eye cracking open just barely. The light was harsh, and everything was blurry. You squinted up at him, your drunk mind trying to process the face hovering over you, looking both rugged and annoyed.

“Sarah?” you mumbled, voice thick with sleep. “You… You look taller.”

Bucky snorted. “Do I look like a Sarah to you?”

You blinked, vision focusing on his piercing blue eyes and grumpy expression as he glared at you like an unsolvable puzzle. You turned to Alpine, who remained loafed on your chest, staring up at Bucky with the same serenity. You whispered to the cat with drunken seriousness, “Sarah, is this your boyfriend?”

Alpine let out a soft, approving purr, which only made Bucky’s scowl deepen.

“Oh, great, now I’ve been promoted to boyfriend status?” he muttered, looking at Alpine.

Turning back to Bucky, you hiccuped and gave him a pointed look. 

“Listen, Sarah…” you said, gesturing clumsily to Alpine, “your boyfriend has a really grumpy face. Like, so grumpy. He should smile more.”

Bucky fought back a laugh, his irritation softening slightly. “Listen, whoever you are, this isn’t your friend’s place. You broke into my apartment. Drunk. And now my cat apparently likes you. You need to leave.”

You thought hard, eyes crossing slightly as you tried to remember where you were going. 

“I was… Sarah’s… Or, uh… close enough,” you mumbled with a shrug. “Your cat’s nice, though. Real polite.”

“Oh, yeah,” Bucky deadpanned. “She’s a real gem. Five-star host, obviously.”

Deciding he’d had enough, Bucky reached down to lift Alpine off your chest, carefully sliding his hands under her. But as soon as he started to pull her away, Alpine let out a loud, drawn-out, angry growl—a sound that was surprisingly menacing for such a small cat, vibrating through the room with an unmistakable warning. Alpine's eyes snapped open, and with surprising speed, she swatted his hand—claws barely out, but enough to make her point.

“Hey!” he hissed, jerking his hand back, staring down at the cat in shock. Alpine blinked up at him, her expression one of supreme, unbothered defiance, as if to say, Move me again, and you’ll lose more than just a little dignity.

Bucky raised his eyebrows. 

“Wow. Really?” He shook his head, folding his arms, clearly offended. “You’re seriously gonna take her side? My own cat, my loyal companion, defending some random drunk who stumbled in here like it’s her couch?”

Alpine blinked once, slow and smug, then proceeded to loaf herself more securely on your chest, her purr rumbling louder as if she were demonstrating just how much she preferred this arrangement.

Bucky muttered under his breath, 

“Unbelievable.” He took a step back, eyeing Alpine like she’d betrayed him. “All the kibble I’ve fed you, and this is what I get? You’re practically giving her a welcome package. Should I grab her some slippers and a robe too?”

He leaned down, whispering conspiratorially to Alpine. “You do realize she’s drunk, right? Probably smells like tequila.” Alpine’s response was a pointed yawn, entirely uninterested in Bucky’s objections.

Bucky sighed, casting one more disgruntled look at Alpine. 

“Alright, fine. Guess I’ll just let Miss New Best Friend crash here. Enjoy your girls’ night,” he added with an exaggerated huff, trudging toward the kitchen, throwing his hands up as he muttered, “Unbelievable. Me? Pushed over by a cat.”

× × × ×

You blinked awake as something soft flicked against your nose. Groaning, you swatted at it, only to realize it was a fluffy white tail waving in front of your face. The tail flicked again, tickling your cheek, and you opened your eyes to see a cat—definitely not Sarah’s cat—perched on the back of the couch, watching you with a bemused expression. 

Sitting up slowly, you rubbed your eyes, glancing around the unfamiliar apartment, your stomach sinking as your surroundings started to come into focus. This was… not Sarah’s place. You caught the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air, and that clinched it—Sarah hated coffee. She was this tiny blonde British girl who would only ever be caught sipping tea.

You slowly turned, your eyes scanning the room until they landed on a figure leaning casually against the kitchen counter. He was tall, rugged, handsome, holding a mug of coffee in one hand. His white t-shirt clung to his frame in a way that hinted at the strength underneath, and his grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, making him look both comfortable and effortlessly put together.

“Good morning,” he said, raising his mug slightly in greeting.

You stared at him, your heart racing, immediately bracing for the worst. Your mind raced through the most terrifying scenarios—where am I? Who is he? And how exactly had I ended up on a stranger’s couch?

The man’s smirk widened, clearly seeing the panic flash across your face. He raised a hand, shaking his head. 

“Relax,” he said, a chuckle slipping into his voice. “Whatever you’re thinking, none of that happened. You broke into my apartment drunk, thinking it was your friend’s place.”

You swallowed, piecing it together, though your cheeks were still burning.

He took another sip, clearly amused. “I should’ve called the cops,” he added, eyeing you with a raised brow. “But my cat kinda likes you, so… we’re good.”

Your eyes flicked to Alpine, who was still perched on the couch, blinking at you like she was saying, Nice meeting you, bestie.

“I… I should go. I am so, so sorry! And thank you,” you blurted, scrambling to your feet, cheeks flaming. You tried to make a quick exit, but in your panic, you tripped over your own foot, your arms flailing as you tried to keep from crashing to the floor.

Bucky moved fast, grabbing you by the shoulders to steady you. “Still asleep?” he said, his tone a mix of amusement and concern as he looked down at you.

“Oh, yeah… kind of,” you mumbled, cheeks still red as you immediately pulled away, trying—and failing—to fix the cowlicks in your hair. Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly holding back a laugh, which just made you more determined to escape. Without another word, you darted out the door, his words about “forgetting something” barely reaching your ears as his doors clicked closed.

You practically crashed into the apartment across the hall, banging on the door until it opened. Sarah’s familiar face, complete with wide, panicked eyes, greeted you. 

“Oh my god, Where were you?!” she shrieked. “I was worried sick! I almost reported you as a missing person!”

“Oh, crap,” you said, cheeks somehow getting even redder. “My bag!”

Meanwhile, back in his apartment, Bucky was shaking his head with a smirk, looking down at Alpine, who had just strutted over to rub herself against his legs as if she hadn’t just completely turned on him.

“Oh, now you’re giving me love?” he muttered, scratching her head as she purred. “Unbelievable. All it took was one random drunk person breaking in, and you were ready to switch sides.”

Just then, he heard a tentative knock at the door again. Bucky opened it to see you standing there, looking like you wished the floor would swallow you whole.

“My bag,” you mumbled, eyes darting anywhere but his face.

“Your bag,” he said at the same time, fighting a grin.

He strolled over to the coffee table, picking up the bag and handing it over. “Try not to break into any more random apartments, yeah?” he teased.

You clutched your bag, stammering out a mortified. 

“Thanks,” then bolted down the hall like your life depended on it, leaving Bucky chuckling in the doorway as he watched you practically trip over your own feet again in your getaway.

× × × ×

You sat on Sarah’s couch, head throbbing, as she handed you a couple of painkillers and a glass of water. 

“Did you and Rhys fight again?” she asked, her voice edged with impatience. “Girl, just break up with him already. He might have an uncanny resemblance to freakin Alexander Skarsgård, but the man’s a walking red flag. Who goes clubbing when they have a girlfriend?”

You groaned, eyes still shut, leaning your head back against the couch, the memory of last night’s fight replaying in painful detail. It had started as a small gathering with friends. You’d dressed up, hoping for a nice evening out with Rhys, just the two of you, maybe a dance or two. But halfway through the night, he’d disappeared, leaving you wandering through a packed club. When you finally found him at the bar, he was leaning in close to some girl, laughing in that charming way he had, as if he didn’t have a girlfriend waiting for him.

When you confronted him, his expression softened instantly, and he tilted his head, giving you that familiar, reassuring smile. 

Rhys cut an imposing figure, his broad shoulders and lean, muscled frame commanding attention even in the crowd. His hair, a shade of sandy blonde that fell just to his shoulders, framed his sharp jawline, giving him an untamed look. He had the kind of intense blue eyes that seemed to catch every flicker of light, their color only deepening as he’d looked down at you.

"Hey, don’t look at me like that. We were just chatting," he’d said gently, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you. Don’t you trust me?”

The words, so soft and warm, had made you hesitate. Even as your frustration lingered, the way he looked at you, the way his hand rested gently on your shoulder, all felt carefully designed to melt away any resistance. 

“Come on,” he’d murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You know you mean the world to me. I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

He’d turned back to the bar then, smiling as he resumed his conversation, leaving you feeling like maybe you had overreacted, like maybe your frustration had been misplaced. And yet, as you watched him easily slip back into the crowd, that familiar sting of doubt remained. Eventually, you’d ordered a drink, then another, drowning your frustration until the room started to blur, and you’d finally stumbled out, too tipsy and weary to care about anything but leaving… only to end up on Bucky’s couch instead.

“It’s not that easy. I love him, my parents love him…” You trailed off, knowing she’d heard this all before. Your parents and his parents were practically inseparable—best friends for years, even business partners in some way. Rhys De Armande’s family ran a chain of luxury hotels, and you were set to inherit your family’s shopping mall empire. “You know how it is. Everyone expects us to work out.”

Sarah made a frustrated gesture, squeezing the air in front of her like she was trying to strangle it. She dropped her hands the second you opened your eyes, but the exasperation in her face was hard to miss.

“Well, clearly, he doesn’t love you back,” she said flatly, crossing her arms.

You winced, the truth landing harder than you’d expected. 

“Ouch,” you muttered, looking down, unsure if the ache in your chest or your pounding headache was worse.

You sighed, swallowing the painkillers and rubbing your temples. “Can you cut me some slack, please? I just embarrassed myself in front of your hot neighbor.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow, her frustration giving way to curiosity. “My hot neighbor?” she asked, smirking. “Oh, this I have to hear. What did you do?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I thought his apartment was yours… so I kind of broke in, passed out on his couch, and, oh yeah—made friends with his cat.”

Sarah burst out laughing, her exasperation melting into full-on amusement. “So, let me get this straight… you broke into Bucky’s apartment, passed out, and had a bonding session with Alpine?”

Your ears perked up at the name. Bucky. That name was way too cute for a guy who looked like that. You peeked out from behind your hands, curiosity piqued. “Bucky? Are you guys… close?”

Sarah smirked, clearly seeing through you. “Why? Are you interested?”

“What? No!” You quickly protested, cheeks heating up. “Just curious. You know, making conversation…”

She raised an eyebrow, a knowing grin spreading across her face. “Right. Well, he’s single if you want to ‘make conversation’ with him too.”

You groaned, grabbing a pillow and smacking Sarah with it. “Stop it! I’m not interested!” you protested, but your cheeks were still burning.

Sarah just laughed, holding her hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright! Whatever.”

Before you could throw another retort her way, your phone rang, buzzing loudly from the table. You grabbed it, and the second you answered, your dad’s voice boomed through the speaker, nearly blowing out your eardrum.

“Where are you?!” he barked. “The meeting started fifteen minutes ago! Do you have any idea how unprofessional this looks?”

You winced, holding the phone slightly away from your ear as you muttered, “Sorry, Dad… rough morning.”

“Well, get here now,” he snapped. “You’re soon going to be the CEO here in New York. Start acting like it.”

The call ended abruptly, You let out a long sigh, muttering, “Crap.” Then you turned to Sarah. “I have to go.”

She eyed you up and down, barely hiding her amusement. “What, like that?” she asked, gesturing to your tousled hair, wrinkled clothes, and less-than-polished look.

Grabbing your bag and hopping as you attempted to shove one foot into a high heel, you shot her a determined look. 

“I’ll make it work.”

You bolted out the door, heels clicking down the hallway as you frantically tried to compose yourself. Just as you reached the elevator and started jabbing the down button repeatedly, you saw him—the hot neighbor himself—coming out of his apartment, Alpine perched comfortably on his shoulders like some kind of royal cat.

“Come on, come on!” you muttered at the elevator, jabbing the button with increasing impatience, as if sheer willpower could make it descend faster. You could already hear your father’s voice echoing in your mind, and he would never let you live this down. Not a chance. It didn’t matter that this was the first time you’d been late for anything in your entire life. Nope—he’d latch onto this one time like it was a pattern, probably bringing it up every chance he got, even at family dinners. “Remember that time you couldn’t be bothered to show up on time?” you imagined him saying. “Such a fine example of leadership.”

You groaned to yourself, muttering under your breath about stubborn elevators and high-strung fathers.

Just then, Bucky strolled up beside you, eyeing your frantic button-mashing with lowkey amusement. 

“You know,” he said casually, voice smooth and annoyingly calm, “that’s not going to make it come any faster.”

You barely spared him a glance, shooting back with a quick retort. “Well, it makes me feel better, so kindly mind your business, Bucky.”

He tilted his head, smirking as he watched you fidget, clearly entertained by your frustration. 

“Mind my business?” he replied, eyebrow raised. “Hard to mind my business when someone broke into my apartment and decided my couch was a free bed.”

You pressed your lips together at the reminder, but he wasn’t done. He nodded toward the button you were still jabbing. “And at this rate, you’re gonna break it.”

You gave him a sharp look, though you couldn’t keep a smirk from tugging at the corner of your mouth, still pressing the button. 

“Fine, if I break it, I’ll pay for it.”

Just then, the elevator doors slid open, and Bucky stepped aside, gesturing for you to go in first with a slight, amused bow. You rolled your eyes but stepped inside, pressing the ground floor button as he followed you in, Alpine still lounging contentedly on his shoulders.

Both of you watched the digital numbers light up above the door as the elevator started its descent, the silence thick in the small space. Every second felt drawn out, and you found yourself fidgeting slightly—until Bucky’s voice broke the quiet.

“Hang on,” he said, casting a sidelong glance at you, “I never actually told you my name.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning a bored expression as you responded with dry sarcasm. “Right. I just happened to guess it was Bucky.” You looked back at the numbers, pretending you weren’t the least bit fazed.

He chuckled, clearly entertained. “Good guess,” he replied, his tone teasing. “Or maybe Sarah’s been talking about me.”

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and you bolted out like you were escaping a hostage situation, heels clicking rapidly against the floor as you made a beeline for the lobby exit.

Behind you, Bucky strolled out casually, watching your hurried pace. “In a rush to break into someone else’s apartment?” he called after you.

You spun around, walking backward as you shot him a parting smirk. “Only if they’ve got a cat that likes me better than them.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, hands slipping into his pockets as he stopped just a few feet away. “Good luck with that. Alpine has high standards.”

“Clearly,” you quipped, nodding toward him with a playful glint in your eye. “She chose me.”

With a final grin, you turned and hurried out the door, leaving Bucky chuckling to himself in the lobby.

× × × ×

You burst through the lobby doors of your family’s corporate building, the adrenaline still pumping as you navigated the familiar halls. Just outside the large meeting room, two of your loyal assistants, Maddie and Rachel, were waiting, eyes widening when they saw the state you were in.

“Oh, boy, you’re cutting it close,” Maddie whispered, quickly reaching up to smooth down your slightly disheveled hair while Rachel adjusted the collar of your blouse. Their hands worked in quick, practiced movements, fixing stray strands, smoothing wrinkles, and making sure you looked like the composed heir they all expected.

“Lincoln’s inside, waiting to give you the rundown,” Rachel muttered under her breath, straightening the hem of your blazer. “And, fair warning—your dad’s pissed.”

“Of course he is,” you muttered, barely holding back a sigh.

Lincoln, your efficient and ever-loyal secretary, materialized at your side, tablet in hand. He gave you a quick once-over, his eyes critical but sympathetic. 

“Your father has been asking for you every five minutes,” he said, voice low as he handed you a prepared file. “You know how he is about timeliness, especially with these quarterly planning meetings. He’s expecting a full report on the upcoming seasonal marketing strategies and wants to discuss new potential store locations.”

You took a deep breath, pulling yourself together as best as you could, letting the details sink in. Your role here wasn’t just about looking the part; you were expected to lead the department, spearhead initiatives, and show the board that you were more than just your family’s name. Today’s meeting would cover everything from quarterly revenue projections to upcoming promotional events designed to boost foot traffic and online sales—a lot to cover, and all under your father’s sharp eye.

Lincoln leaned in, voice calm and steady. “Just stick to the report we prepped last week, and mention the new partnerships. Show them you’re already thinking ahead to next quarter.”

You gave him a quick nod, grateful for the support. “Thanks, Lincoln.”

He patted your arm reassuringly, then gestured to the door with a slight smile. “Now go in there and remind them why you’re going to be the new boss for the biggest branch in New York.”

With one last steadying breath, you opened the door, stepping confidently into the large conference room, your father’s expectant gaze immediately landing on you as you took your seat at the head of the table, ready to tackle the day.

× × × ×

As the meeting wrapped up, you exhaled in relief, seeing nods of approval and satisfied smiles around the table. Despite your rushed start, you’d managed to present the quarterly strategy with confidence, outlining new initiatives that had the board talking excitedly about the future. More than one member voiced their high hopes for you officially stepping in as CEO, and the weight of their approval felt both thrilling and daunting.

One by one, the board members filed out, each giving you a nod or a polite word of encouragement. Soon, it was just you and your father, Richard, who lingered behind, his expression carefully unreadable as he adjusted his cufflinks and regarded you with that familiar, assessing gaze.

After a pause, he finally spoke, his tone mild but pointed. “How old are you?”

You straightened slightly, eyes meeting his. “Twenty-six.”

He raised an eyebrow, nodding as if in thought. 

“Twenty-six,” he repeated. “And yet, you’re acting like a teenager sneaking in after curfew.” He didn’t raise his voice, but the weight of his disappointment was clear. “You’re going to be the CEO of this company, Y/N. The board expects more from you—and so do I.”

You held your ground, forcing yourself to stay calm under his scrutiny. “I understand, Dad, and I’m sorry for being late. But I delivered the report, and the board was impressed.”

He inclined his head slightly. “This time, yes. But if you want to lead this company, you need to take this seriously, every single day. There won’t always be room for excuses.”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing back the urge to say something defensive. “Understood.”

Richard sighed, his expression softening just a fraction. “I don’t just want you to be capable, Y/N. I want you to be the best. You’re representing the family, our legacy.” He glanced at the empty room, then back at you. “Don’t let anything get in the way of that.”

You gave a small nod, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “I won’t.”

With that, he gave a brisk nod, signaling that the conversation was over, and strode out, leaving you standing in the quiet room, feeling both motivated and under pressure to prove yourself all over again.

As the door closed behind your father, you let out a long breath, allowing yourself a brief moment to unwind. But before you could gather your thoughts, the door opened again, and in filed your loyal team—Maddie, Rachel, and Lincoln—all of them looking at you with a mixture of pride and relief.

“Good job, boss,” Maddie said with a grin, giving you a thumbs-up. “You handled that like a pro.”

Rachel nodded enthusiastically. “Seriously, you were amazing. You had the whole room nodding along.”

Lincoln, ever the composed one, offered a rare smile of approval. 

“Smooth presentation, just what they wanted to hear.” Then, without missing a beat, he pulled out his tablet, ready to spell out your schedule for the rest of the day. “Alright, here’s what you have lined up…”

He scrolled for a moment, then continued, “You have a quick check-in with the marketing team at noon to review the upcoming promotional rollouts. After that, lunch with a representative from Luxx Retail—an initial discussion on the new partnership. Then, at three, a meeting with the creative team to discuss branding updates for next quarter. And finally, a call with our international partners at five.”

You blinked, taking in the jam-packed lineup. “Wow… it’s going to be one of those days, huh?”

Lincoln smirked, tucking the tablet under his arm. “Welcome to CEO life.”

Maddie and Rachel chuckled, Maddie reaching over to give your shoulder a supportive squeeze. “Don’t worry, we’ve got your back. You nailed the hard part; the rest is just the victory lap.”

You smiled, feeling a little more ready to tackle the day ahead with their support. “Thanks, guys. Let’s make it happen.”

× × × × 

Bucky adjusted his stance, loading another round as he and Steve stood side by side at the shooting range. The low hum of the ventilation system and the muffled sound of distant shots created a steady background noise, setting the tone for another session. Steve glanced over, eyebrow raised as he watched Bucky with a hint of curiosity.

“So, you’re telling me some random drunk girl broke into your apartment last night and just… passed out on your couch?” Steve asked, trying to keep a straight face but failing.

Bucky rolled his eyes, lining up his aim as he replied, “Yep. Walked right in, curled up on my couch, and Alpine decided she was her new best friend.” He took a shot, the loud bang reverberating through the range. “I left for two minutes to grab my phone from the car, and there she was when I came back.”

Steve couldn’t hold back a chuckle as he reloaded his own gun, shaking his head. “And let me guess, Alpine was all for it?”

“Of course,” Bucky muttered, setting up for another shot. “The little traitor acted like she’d known her for years. The girl even thought Alpine was her friend ‘Sarah,’ or something like that.” He paused, lowering his gun and glancing at Steve, still in mild disbelief. 

Steve laughed, raising his weapon and aiming down the range. “Man, only you would have a meet-cute that involves a breaking and entering.”

Bucky snorted, firing off another round. “Yeah, if you call that a meet-cute. Girl’s got sass, I’ll give her that. Told me off for ‘minding her business.’”

Steve lowered his gun, giving Bucky a pointed look. “And you didn’t call the cops?”

Bucky shrugged. “Didn’t have the heart to. Plus, Alpine seemed pretty happy with her there.” He paused, smirking slightly. “Besides, it was kind of… entertaining.”

Steve shook his head, grinning as he took another shot. “Only you, Buck. Only you.”

After a few more rounds, the air around them settled, and Bucky took a breath, lowering his gun and glancing over at Steve with a thoughtful expression.

“So,” he started, reloading his weapon more slowly this time, “are they asking you to go back? Back to duty, I mean. Avengers stuff.”

Steve paused, his own gun lowered as he considered Bucky’s question. 

“Yeah,” he admitted after a moment, nodding. “Got a call last week. They’re pushing for me to come back, but I haven’t given them an answer yet.” He glanced over at Bucky. “What about you?”

Bucky shrugged, his expression neutral, though there was a hint of something else in his eyes. 

“They’ve reached out a few times, nothing urgent. Mostly checking in.” He looked down, absently running a finger along the barrel of his gun. “Guess I’m still on the roster if they need me.”

Steve studied him, picking up on the unspoken hesitation. “You miss it?”

Bucky exhaled, glancing down the range before answering. “Some days, yeah. But… sometimes, it’s nice not to have everything be about missions and orders. Almost feels like I could have something close to normal.” He smirked a bit, adding, “Well, if my version of normal includes strange women breaking into my apartment, anyway.”

Steve chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Guess we’ll see where things go. But for what it’s worth, you’ve earned a break, Buck. Normal or not.”

Bucky nodded, and they both lined up to fire another round, the familiar weight of duty lingering between them.

[deanwinchestersbabygirll]

Sam Winchester, Hero

-warnings// angst, fluff, SMUT, MENTION OF SA!!

-lil summery// kind of my spin on the pilot episode, based when Sam’s in college, best friends to lovers trope

Sam x reader

Part 2

word count// 3330

(Gif from Pinterest)

Your eyes burned as you continued to read the same line over and over, exhaustion threatening to take over your body any minute "hey you okay?" You looked towards the soft voice to see your best friend Sam, you nodded "yeah I'm just trying to finish this chapter I can't hand in another late assignment" you said stretching your limbs trying to wake yourself up 

Sam chuckled "it's after midnight, you’re gonna end up face down on your desk if you don't get to bed soon" you rolled your tired eyes playfully "I’ll be fine I'll just be another half hour then I'm done, you head on home, I'll be right behind you" Sam shook his head "not a chance this place isn't safe at night I'll wait for you" he said going to sit next to you "Sam sweetie, I'll be fine, our apartment is a ten minute walk at most, plus you know I can handle myself, I've kicked your ass plenty of times" you joked making him smile 

"Alright but I want you to knock on my door when your back home so I know your home safe, I'm giving you forty five minutes and if ur not home by then I'll be back here to haul your  ass home" he said firmly, he was always the worrier, that's what you loved about him the most

"I promise, scouts honour" you promised him with the scouts symbol he chuckled as he moved toward the door "see you at home Y/N" he called as the doors closed leaving you alone in the library, You rubbed your tired red eyes and got back to work, your blinking getting slower until all you could see was darkness and a warm fuzzy feeling take over your body.

Almost an hour later you awoke with a start "oh son of a bitch!" You exclaimed quietly looking at your watch, in a panic you shoved your stuff in your bag quickly before running out the big mahogany doors and taking off in a speed walk down the dark campus towards you and Sam's apartment, hoping he hadn't left yet

You were moments away from sanctuary before you heard the sound of loud foot steps behind you, your heart plummeting to your stomach as you picked up your own pace, you were less than a minute away, the footsteps got closer and your heart was beating a hundred beats per minute

The person behind you grabbed your arm roughly turning you around to face a tall brute of a man, glaring at you his lips twisted in a dirty smile "where you heading beautiful?" He asked his grip on your arm tightening making you wince "none of your business now get your damn hand off me you jackass!" You exclaimed trying to pull your arm away 

"Watch yourself now... the nicer you are to me the better I'll make you feel" the man said licking his greasy lips, your stomach turned and you regretted not leaving with Sam earlier. 

Tears pricked at your eyes as you tried to fight him off "if you touch me I swear I'll-" you started to say before a loud laugh cut you off "you'll what baby? Look at me then look at you, who's got the upper hand here?" he mocked before a third voice interrupted him 

"I do!" The voice said and a fist was slamming against your attackers face knocking the brute out, screaming you turned to see your saviour as the tears streamed down you face, you saw Sam looking back at you concern written all over his face "c'mon let's go" he said quickly taking your bag from you and pulling you tightly to his side making your worries instantly vanish as you cuddled into him 

Sam unlocked the door with his free hand, never letting go of you, he locked the door instantly as soon as you stepped inside "are you okay? I knew I shouldn't have fucking left" Sam told you his voice cracking slightly as his hands cradled your face in them as his green eyes scanned for any visible injuries.

"I'm okay Sammy" you assured him but he shook his head, his shaggy hair bouncing as he did "I'm so sorry I didn't get there sooner, I shouldn't have left you by yourself it's not safe i-" "SAM!" You yelled cutting his rambling off, his eyes snapping down to meet yours "I'm okay, I promise, you got me before he could do anything" you promised him, brushing a stray strand of shaggy brown hair behind his ear

He closed his eyes tightly and sighed loudly, his shoulders remaining as tense as ever, he wrapped his strong arms tightly around you, holding you tightly to him

You rest your head against his hard chest, listening to his heart beating like crazy as he breathed in your scent "are you okay sweetie?" You questioned looking up at him

Sam nodded slowly "I'm doing everything I can right now to stop myself from killing that perverted bastard" Sam confessed, his voice low and serious, you chuckled quietly "Sammy your the sweetest guy I've ever met, you don't have killer instincts in you" 

Sam swallowed thickly... little did you know who he really was, how many monsters he'd killed since he learned to walk "...yeah your probably right, come on let's get some sleep" Sam said changing the subject quickly

You stepped away from the his warm comforting embrace nodding your head, a quiet quiver threatening to leave your lips  "night Sammy" you leaned up to kiss his cheek before retreating to your bedroom.

You shivered as you walked into your dark bedroom, you pulled on an oversized shirt kicked off your jeans before getting into you bed, your whole body shook as you lay, the events of the night finally setting in your head

You let the hot tears fall slowly down your face as you fell asleep. 

You awoke a while later, you heart beating like crazy, your face stung as tears, new and fresh stuck to your cheeks, you tried catching your breath before making your way quickly to your bedroom door and down the hall to your best friends room

You knocked lightly on the door but there was no response other than the small snores on the other side, you questioned if you should just suck it up and go back to your own room but you knew you couldn't, not alone 

Taking a deep shaky breath you opened the door tip toeing towards the sleeping giant, "Sammy?" You whispered in a strained voice, "...Y/N... w-what's going on? Everything okay?" Sam quickly shot up suddenly as though he was wide awake. You tried to control your breathing before replying "y-yeah I uh, I-" you struggled to get out before you broke completely, your whole body shaking as more tears streamed down your swollen face

Sam was instantly pulling you down to sit next to him on his bed, pulling your shaking body tightly into his warm embrace, his muscular arms wrapping around you waist as you lay your head in the crook of his neck, "hey it's okay just breath" he said gently trolling your hair from your face "what happened?" He asked quietly stroking your wet hair behind your ear 

You took a deep shaky breath leaning into his touch "I- I just had a bad dream and I didn't want to be alone, can I stay with you, please?" You begged Sam, your heart racing like crazy, Sam's cheeks flushed a deep red as he nodded his head almost immediately "of course you can, you know you can always come to me no matter what" You smiled squeezing his hand tightly as a silent thank you.

Sam stayed in that position for another while longer, just holding you tightly to him as you slowly regained your breathing and the tears stopped rolling, "you ready to lay down?" Sam asked rubbing his hand up and down your cold arms nodding you move to his side, slowly lowering your self to rest against the cold unused pillow in Sam's bed, Sam turned to face you in the bed,

His hand once again reaching out for your own "I promise your safe here, I would never in a million years let anyone or anything hurt you" Sam assured you making your heart swell, "I know sweetie,  your like my very own superhero" you told him making his lips pull into his familiar grin "night gorgeous" Sam said giving your small hand another light squeeze "night Sammy" you whispered back.

You lay there another few minutes just staring into the dark room, this was different than how you felt earlier in your own bed, you felt safe... you just couldn't trust your mind enough to sleep

You turned to your side to face Sam, his eyes already on you "I can't sleep" you whispered lowly to him your faces inches apart as Sam moved closer his arm moving to wrap around your waist as his green eyes stared into yours "it'll be okay, I'm right here next to you" Sam promised making you smile up at him 

Your hand cupped the side of Sam's face gently as you moved closer, just testing the waters, letting him have time to pull away if he wanted to, but he didn't.

Sam closed the small gap between your lips quickly capturing you lips with his, you let out a small gasp as your hand flew to grip the back of his neck lightly, his own gripping your waist pulling you as close as possible to him, you let out a quiet moan as Sam moved you to lay on your back, his body rolling to hover above you 

You wrapped you legs tightly around Sam's hips pulling him down so that his covered cock was pressing against your clothed clit, "oh god Sammy" you breathed out pulling his hair slightly 

Sam moved his kisses down your neck causing your eyes to roll "Sam please" you begged tightening your legs around his hips, sam obeyed as he pulled back slightly to pull his grey shirt and off revealing his muscular chest, you ran your hand down from his toned chest down to his pyjama pants, you swallowed the thick lump of nerves in your throat "Y/N, we don't have to do this" Sam told you sensing your nerves 

You shook your head and smiled up at him "I want to do this, with you" you told him as you gently pulled him back down for a kiss, he smirked into the kiss, his hands moving to the hem of your oversized shirt you'd stolen from Sam many moons ago, he pulled the shirt off your body, revealing your bare breasts to him, he instantly grasped them in his warm hands

You let out a small moan of his name, arching your back from the bed "please touch me" you begged, sam chuckled and kissed his was down your chest taking each breast in his hot mouth before continuing his way down your stomach, he dragged your panties down off your legs, gasping at the cold air hitting your core you move to clench your thighs together

Sam's hands caught your thighs quickly, spreading them wider exposing you completely to him "you look so beautiful like this" Sam said his eyes a darker green, bordering a light brown, Sam blew cold air against your soaking pussy before diving in, you screamed in pleasure your hand rushing to gripe Sam's longer hair, "oh god Sammy! Please don't stop that feels so fucking good" you cried out as Sam sucked hour clit into his mouth and inserting his two long fingers inside your dripping hole "you taste fucking delicious Y/N I could stay between these legs all damn day if you let me" Sam said against your pussy, the vibrations of his deep voice and combination of his thrusting fingers causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head "I'm so close Sammy please!" You screamed in pleasure slamming your head back against the pillow behind you as Sam sped up his movements, all that could be heard in the room was heavy breaths and the sounds of Sam's mouth and fingers working you toward your orgasm

You cried out in ecstasy, Sam's long fingers curled inside of you hitting your g-spot repeatedly his lips wrapping around your clit stimulating you completely, you screamed Sam's name as the coil snapped, your orgasm came crashing towards you causing your body to shake slightly, sam carried you through it, not stopping until you gently pushed him away from you, you legs around his shoulders shaking "that was the hottest fucking thing in the world, I've never had a guy do that to me before" you breathed out, still trying to catch your breath

Sam chuckled giving you lips a small kiss "well you have only dated jackasses who clearly have no idea how to please their girls, if I had it my way I'd have you tied to the bed with me down there all damn night" Sam confessed making your heart pound, you looked at him threw half lidded eyes a smirk playing on your lips "I'm not opposed to getting tied up sometime" you said making sam groan loudly as you pulled him into another deep kiss, your hand snuck it's way into his pants and wrapped around his hard cock, you started to move your hand in an up and down motion before Sam quickly grabbed your wrist stopping you

Your eyes snapped to his in a panic and your heart raced in panic, "What's wrong?" You questioned quickly and Sam smiled "nothing it's just… I'd rather be inside you gorgeous" Sam told you and he kicked the rest of his pants off leaving his big hard cock on full display making your mouth water "do you have a condom?" You struggled to ask as your mouth was suddenly dry

Sam nodded, hovering over your bare body to reach into his nightstand, he quickly pulled out a familiar foil package, he ripped it open quickly with his teeth and rolled it onto his erect member "are you sure your okay with this?" Sam, ever the gentleman asked you, his hands ran up and down your waist in a comforting way making you smile  "of course I am Sammy" you confessed wrapping your legs tightly around his hips and pulling him down to you so he was chest to chest to you

Sam leaned down to capture your lips in a sensual kiss, not rushed or hard like the other kisses, you felt him place his covered tip at your entrance, your pussy clenching in desperation to feel him inside you,

Your moan caught in your throat as Sam pushed his way inside you, filling you up, inch by inch

Sam sucked in a harsh breath, his lips moving to attach to your neck "god Y/N your so fucking tight, can already feel you squeezing me" he groaned out hotly against your neck, you giggled softly as your hands ran up Sam's muscled back, he began to move his hips slowly to rest the waters, there was a slight pain but nothing could take away from the pleasure of having Sam so close to you like this "faster Sammy please" you told him arching against him to allow him to push inside you deeper, Sam obeyed and grabbed your thighs, he pushed them up so you knees were against your chest, your calves hanging over his broad shoulders

Sam pulled his hips almost all the way back before slamming back inside you making you scream in pleasure

He continued to slam his cock deep inside you at a fast pace, hitting your G-spot with every thrust his pelvic bone pressing against you swollen clit adding just the right amount of pleasure "yes!" You screamed dragging your nails down Sam's back as white hot pleasure clouded your vision, you knew your orgasm was fast approaching as the coil in your stomach tightened "cum with me baby" you moaned out, Sam quickened his movements feeling his own orgasm crash against him, he moved his hand down to rub your clit quickly causing the band in your stomach to snap, you screamed Sam's name as your juices came flowing out of you, down Sam's thighs as Sam groaned feeling the condom fill with his hot seed 

Sam continued to thrust a few more times slowly to calm you both downs, whimpering when he pulled out you gave him a gentle kiss on his now swollen lips "that was amazing" you said once you pulled away causing Sam to chuckle, he threw the used condom in his trash can "yeah that was the best sex I've ever had" Sam confessed making your heart race and your cheeks turn pink when you giggled “yeah me too”

Sam pushed a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes staring into your own with intensity “I really like you Y/N, your my best friend.. I mean I know we just crossed the line of just friends but I want you, I mean, I want this, not just sex.. I mean I want you.. all of you” Sam confessed before kissing you quickly to solidify his words 

Your heart pounded against your chest as you listened to Sam’s confession, “I want that to Sammy” you said placing your hands on either side of his face, leaning in to peck his kiss swollen lips a couple of times until the smiles on both your lips made it impossible to keep going “so how about tomorrow after your last class we head down the Chinese place for dinner and we can rent a movie to take back home?” Sam asked you nervously “I’d love that” you told him before going to the bathroom to get ready for bed again, this time in the safe protective arms of your boyfriend.

A couple of hours later you awoke to voices in the kitchen, panic rose in your chest before you turned to wake Sam, surprised when all that was in his spot was cold sheets, you furrowed you brows before getting up, you quickly pulled on your over side shirt and panties before stalking towards the kitchen where your boyfriend and another man were talking  “sam?” You called for him making his head snap towards you “Y/N hey what you doing out of bed?” Sam questioned placing his hand on your arm 

You opened your mouth to answer before the other man moved towards you a big flirty smile graced his lips “wow you are so far out of my brothers league” the man said making sam roll his eyes “oh your Dean! Sam’s told me a lot about you” you said making him chuckle “all good I hope” he said before turning his attention back to your boyfriend before staring at you again “listen sweetheart, I gotta talk to your boyfriend here about some family business would you mind giving us a minute?” He asked trying to be as nice as possible “of course I’ll just-” you were cut off by Sam’s big arm wrapping tightly around yours waist pulling you tightly to his side “no, anything you can say to me, you can say in front of Y/N” Sam told him his chest puffed out in anger 

Dean clapped his hands together in frustration “fine, dad hasn’t been home in a couple days” Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes dramatically once again “yeah, he’ll come stumbling back on in soon enough, just like he always does!” Sam said annoyed, his muscled arm around your waist tightening as Dean sighed lowly 

 “alright, dads on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days”. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ALL MY OWN WORK I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OR PUBLISH ON OTHER SITES , I.E WATTPAD, ETC, WITHOUT MESSAGING TO ASK FIRST

For my Sam girlies!

[wileys-russo]

i need a pool day blurb with jenni after that bikini picture pretty pls bsf 💘 tysm

this is for @sunnyaelia who is constantlyy feeding my jenni obsession pool day II j.hermoso

finishing the final chapter of your book you near moaned with happiness, feeling as though you'd just scaled a mountain as immense gratification flooded your sun soaked bones.

with a content sigh you snapped it shut, patting the cover fondly and carefully tossing it onto the table a few feet away.

you'd been tackling said book for a far too long, and always having been an avid reader ever since childhood it had bugged you to no end that these days it took you months to finish a few chapters when you used to fly through a few books each week.

but life commitments seemed to stump that nowadays, though on vacation for the week it was the ideal opportunity to rectify that and only just two days in it made you feel immense relief that you'd conquered that.

you'd had your doubts of course, and they came in the form of the tall, tattooed clown you had the pleasure of calling your wife.

jenni was your favourite distraction but she was constantly just that, a distraction.

any sliver of free time you had away from family or work was consumed by her need for your every ounce of attention, and whatever you didn't give her she would simply take one way or another.

but your athlete superstar world cup winning striker was not as easily relaxed as you, and despite being on vacation together insisted on continuing her at times robotic rituals of exercise.

not that you could really complain given as much as you adored jenni as a person and a partner; her body, stamina and rippling physique was an immense benefit to all the perks that came with being mrs hermoso.

so your wife was off on her morning run, kissing you goodbye far too early for you to do much more than hum and roll onto your side as she chuckled and gently closed the bedroom door behind her with a click.

you'd arisen a couple hours later surprised that she still hadn't returned, but with the peace and quiet of her absence came the opportunity to finally finish your book and work on your tan, so here you were.

and it would seem right in the nick of time as you heard footsteps pad their way through the villa before her slides slapped against the concrete of the courtyard and suddenly your warmth dissapeared.

"you're blocking my sun hermoso." you warned with a small smile, eyes still closed but protected by a pair of sunglasses which were promptly snatched from your face.

"i am your sun, hermoso. just lighting up your days with my good looks and my muscles and my endearing personality." jenni quipped back with a grin as she settled her glasses on your nose and you cracked one eye up to stare up at her blankly.

you'd be lying if you said they didn't dip a little lower for a moment taking in her sweaty, toned and tanned half naked body before you which wasn't missed by your wife whose grin only grew at the sight.

"enjoying the view esposa? front row seats to la feria de armas." the gun show, the footballer smirked and flexed her arms obnoxiously with a few mock grunts as you rolled your eyes.

"can i get a refund?" you asked blankly, own smile curling upward as jenni's dropped and you closed your eyes again, kicking her gently and making a shooing motion with your hands.

"get out of my sun and take a shower, i can't tan in the shade amor." you chuckled and exhaled happily as she stepped aside and your face was once again bathed in the warm cancun sun.

"oh a shower? good idea, gracias bebé." her slightly chapped but still soft lips pressed sweetly against yours as she ducked down and slipped your stolen sunglasses back on your face before you smacked her ass with one hand as she passed, sending her a cheeky grin.

"niña traviesa." your wife clicked her tongue disapprovingly though you could see the corners of her mouth tug upward in amusement as she stripped off the singlet leaving her only in shorts and a sports bra, her well defined tattooed back disappearing into the villa.

you assumed that meant your peace and quiet resumed, how wrong you were.

"oh dios mio jennifer!" you groaned in annoyance as suddenly footsteps smacked against concrete and there was a brief pause of silence before a body met water with a loud splash and droplets rained down on you one after the other.

"sí precioso?" the girl popped up at the edge of the pool, tattooed arms crossed and her chin resting on them with a wicked grin as you glared down at her and wiped yourself off with a towel.

"idiota." you grumbled, tossing the now damp towel down on the ground and lying back down with a huff. "you suggested a shower no? i just wanted to share mi amor." again droplets rained down as her hand smacked at the water sending a small tidal wave across your legs.

knowing she was just egging on for a reaction you refused to give her one, only standing to turn your lounger around to face away from her before flopping back down on your stomach now which made her laugh, your wife pushing off the side of the pool and floating around humming something to herself as you settled yourself again.

but of course that too didn't last long.

"cari?" the striker called out, still floating on her back with her eyes closed, having changed into a brightly colored bikini which left very little to the eye or the imagination

you hummed in response, the noise muffled as you were still laying stomach down on the lounger a few feet away. "if you are in a competition with yourself, do you come first or last?" your wife asked as you only sighed, all too used to the strangely wonderful but weird way her brain worked.

"neither, no opponents means no winner or loser." you answered without moving a muscle, the older girl making a noise of surprise at your answer, quiet falling again as she took a moment to reflect on it.

"cari?" again you hummed in response, readying yourself for whatever was to come next. "can you daydream at night?"

"no mi amor, thats just thinking." you chuckled slightly at that one, jenni making another pleasantly surprised noise as again a beat of peace passed.

"cari?" a hum again. "if you clean a vacuum, do you become a vacuum cleaner?" you could hear the obvious grin in her tone at that as you snickered quietly. "no you'd actually become useful." you quipped as your wife scoffed in offence and kicked water at you, the few icy droplets which hit your back making you wince slightly.

"cari?" another hum. "if you drop soap on the floor, is the floor clean or is the soap dirty?"

"why?" you finally pulled your head up, sitting up at peering at her over the top of the lounger as she continued to float around the pool. "why not?" she rebutted, ducking under the water and doing a backflip beneath the surface as you rolled your eyes.

"show off." you shot at her, sunglasses slipping just down your nose as you watched jenni pull herself slowly out of the pool, sitting on the edge of with her legs still dangling in the water, wringing out her hair and stretching as she scraped it up into a bun atop her head.

your gaze found home on the way her soft tanned skin tensed and flexed with each movement, water drops cascading down her like she was stuck in a rain storm as she exhaled deeply and rolled her neck.

catching your eye she winked as you shook your head and laid back down as she stood and made her way over, disregarding the unoccupied lounger to your right and instead sitting on the edge of yours.

"so, is the floor clean or soap dirty mi todo?" you flinched ever so slightly as a cold finger traced down your spin, a smile forming on your lips which faced away from your wife who was writing out i love you on your back.

"both, the floor becomes clean where the soap hits it but the soap becomes dirty as it touches the floor." you answered simply as she hummed, seemingly satisfied with that answer. "smart and beautiful." the girl complimented, twisting around and trailing kisses down your shoulder blame as you sighed happily.

"i knew you married me for my mind." you teased. "no, for this." jenni grinned, one hand cupping a handful of flesh on your ass and squeezing before patting it affectionately as you reached out and pinched her thigh making her chuckle.

"again, idiota." you shook your head resisting the urge to smile, knocking her with your knee a little as you wriggled and flipped onto your back again, sighing as your glasses were once more snatched off your face.

"there is another chair there." you reminded as your wife scooched you across with her hands and laid down beside you, both of you near hanging off either side of the small lounger as her wet torso pressed against yours, though as the sun rose higher in the sky and the temperature soared upward the slight reprise now wasn't unwelcome.

"very observant mi vida, bien!" jenni grinned as your eyes opened and winced slightly from the sunlight hitting them, your wife quickly sliding your glasses back over them with a kiss pressed to your cheek.

"jenni i am going to fall off!" you laid in silence pressed against one another for a few minutes before she grew restless, sitting up and moving about nearly shoving you off.

but as you opened your eyes to tell her off further your words died in your throat, mouth running dry as the footballer tossing her soaking wet bikini top over her shoulder and smirked at the way your eyes clearly fixed to her now naked chest though disguised behind the glasses.

her breasts sat to attention, perfectly round and staring you right in the face as your wifes look of utter delight and amusement only grew.

"oh you wanted more space bebita? of course." you barely had time to process her words before her leg was swinging over your hips and she settled herself on top of you, shaking her head as her chest bounced and droplets rained down on you ironically only causing your mouth to dry up further.

but as you reached out eager to touch them her hands caught yours, interlocking her slender fingers with yours and pinning them down to the lounger as she leaned down, the feeling of her wet naked chest pressing against yours nearly having you moan.

"can't have you moving around too much ángel, you might fall off." her pearly white teeth bore down at you in a wolfish grin, sloped nose tucking into the crook of your neck as your eyes fluttered close at the special attention she gave the taunt skin there.

you felt her grin widen as your hips bucked ever so slightly up against hers as she suddenly bit down on the sensitive skin just beneath your jaw, sucking on the tanned flesh until it had turned dark red and sent your head spinning.

"mi niña bonita." jenni purred, kissing softly over the mark and trailing her lips across your jaw before finally pressing them against yours, a slight grind of her hips down into yours causing your breath to hitch with a gasp and her tongue to slip past your defenses, easily taking control of the kiss.

you barely had time to enjoy it before suddenly she was using her strength to easily pull you up and swap your positions, sliding beneath you as you now sat on top of her catching your breath momentarily.

unrestrained now you wasted no time gliding your hands across the firm ridges of her abs, bending down to press feather light kisses across her collarbone, tongue darting out to flick across the H tattoo on her sternum as she exhaled and tangled a hand in your hair, tugging your head up and into her neck.

"niña buena." the striker sighed as your hands finally found her chest and squeezing right as your lips sucked your own mark into her neck, normally not something your wife so easily allowed but too distracted by your hands kneading away at her chest to stop you.

but right as sudden as everything had started, in true hermoso fashion it was just as quick to stop, your hands grabbing onto her shoulders with a cry of surprise as suddenly she stood and hauled you up with her, legs wrapped around your waist.

"jenni no no no por favor amor i washed my hair last night!" you begged and tried to get down as you quickly realised what was happening.

but all you got in reply was a grin as you held your breath and your wife launched the two of you off the edge, icy water engulfing your body as her long tattooed legs hit the bottom and pushed off, the pair of you resurfacing as you coughed and spluttered slightly in shock.

"you looked hot cari, just wanted to cool you down." the brunette teased still holding tightly onto you as you smacked her forehead with a huff.

"estúpido idiota!" you hit her shoulder as she only laughed, pushing over to a more shallow spot where she could stand a little taller, hands squeezing at your ass in a silent attempt at an apology.

"pero tu estúpido idiota." jenni cooed with a smile that was softer, kissing your lips slowly and sweetly as your anger melted away, really unable to stay mad at the endearingly dopey grin on her face as she pushed a wet strand of hair out of your face with a lovesick glint in her eyes.

"well lo siento mucho but you are stuck with me forever and ever and ever now mrs hermoso."

[yourfatherlucifer]

Our Aurora : Chapter 1

Ot8!Ateez x afab/female!reader

Summary: Attending university with your eight boyfriends wasn’t easy, neither was sharing a mansion with them.

Warnings: MDNI, this mini series includes tons of smut, slight violence, protective ateez, poly relationship, established relationship, mentions of mxm, choking, other smut themes.

WC: 2K

AU: University

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Nets: @newworldnet

Taglist: (open)

Note: GUESS WHOS BACK BITCHES!!!!! Btw please reblog 🤭

Series Masterlist

The greatest benefit of being rich and going to a very prestigious university meant owning your own mansion with your eight boyfriends. That was a lot of lovers but you didn’t mind and neither did they. Of course, there was always someone who’d called you a whore for having so many men to yourself. You would ignore them because you knew your boyfriends loved you, they took care of your every need.

Each man was different, Hongjoong is an art major. Seonghwa is a mathematics major, he’s the nerd of the school. Yunho is an English major, he wants to be a teacher. Yeosang is a cheerleader for the football team. San is a quarterback for the football team. Mingi is a music major but is part of the basketball team. Wooyoung is a dance major. Jongho is part of the soccer team on a scholarship.

One time, Jongho punched one of his teammates in the face for flirting with you in the middle of practice. You had just come from supporting San at his practice, wearing his letter jacket and one of the boys favorite skirts. You had looked so cute cheering on Jongho, he was always so happy to see you there. Though his face had turned sour when he saw his captain walking up to you, a pervy grin on his face.

Oh this infuriated Jongho. Everyone knew at this school that you were taken, yes the relationship was polyamorous but you guys weren’t welcoming anyone else into the relationship. You were happy with just the nine of you.

So to see this vile man reach out to touch you brought pure anger to him. Jongho had charged him, tackling him to the dirt ground. Jongho had broken the man's nose, his knuckles were bleeding. You had to jump the fence to stop your lover. He was nearly kicked off the team until you paid off the school to keep quiet about it. Which he wasn’t very happy about but he got to keep his scholarship so he couldn’t complain. But you rewarded his protective behavior with a blowjob when the two of you got home. Safe to say he got over what you did.

After that, you’d spend time alone in the university’s art room, alone with Hongjoong. You’d sit in his lap while he painted. This was his practice for his future designer line. He wanted his own fashion line but decided on being an art major to help with his goal. His free hand would dance along the inside of your skirt, around the plush of your thighs while his paint brush stroked the canvas in front of him. You’d have to work so hard not to squirm in his lap, else you wanted to be punished for screwing up his artwork. Today was no different.

“Beautiful, you really need to stop moving. You’re gonna mess me up.” He tutted, “You don’t want that, now do you?”

You lightly whined, trying to get off his lap only for him to pull you back down.

Hongjoong didn’t like that you tried to leave him, “You already want to leave me? I thought it was my day?”

“It is your day, Joongie, but, I..” You couldn’t even finish your sentence.

“What is it? Why can’t you stay?”

To answer his question, you dug your ass into his pelvis, “Because, Joongie, I can feel your cock against me.”

Hongjoong set down his paintbrush with a groan, “I really wish you didn’t notice.”

He pushed his wet canvas to the side and bent you over the table, flipping up your skirt, “You’ll let me fuck this pretty cunt, won’t you?”

His words made you quiver, legs threatening to give out beneath you, “Please.”

“Please what, baby? You want me to fuck you so hard that I’ll have to get one of the boys to come pick you up? Cause your brain can only think of my cock?” Hongjoong’s decorated fingers pushed the soaked panties to the side. Your cunt glistening in the light. Just for him.

The moment you felt his lips to your cunt, you let out a loud cry. This man ate out cunt like it was his last meal. He was one of the few of your boyfriends who would even do such a thing.

Your fingers dug into the edge of the table as Hongjoong’s tongue slithered inside of your dripping hole.

Your body lurched forward with his movements. His hands gripped your thighs to let you know he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon. Two of his digits pushed inside alongside his tongue, pushing and prodding against your walls. He had to free one of his hands to massage his bulge, the growing discomfort in his shorts.

Once his cock was freed from its confines, he moaned a sigh of relief. His lips peeled away from your cunt, just to rub his cockhead against your folds, “Baby, you’re so soaked, and it's all for me.”

Ah yes, Hongjoong was very cocky, he knew your cunt belonged to your other boyfriends as well.

As he slowly pushed in, your mouth fell open and your eyes widened, still not used to him, “Ah, Joongie, careful. Stretching me so much.”

Hongjoong dipped his fingers in his paint palette and marked your ass cheeks with color. The cold liquid gave shivers down your spine. The red and yellow contrasted beautifully in his eyes, he couldn’t wait for the day for you to let him paint your body like a canvas. His perverted mind thought it would be a great idea to paint your breasts someday.

He watched as his cock pushed into your cunt, the squelching could be heard quite greatly.

-

Your body laid limp on the table, Hongjoong’s cum flowing out of your cunt, “Well, as much as I wanna go for round two, you’re all spent. I’ll call Yunho to pick you up.”

When your tallest boyfriend arrived, he chuckled at the sight of your exhausted body, “Again, Hongjoong? How rough did you go this time?”

As he stepped closer he could see the paint streaks along your body, your eyes were barely staying open, “Yuyu?” You could hardly call out.

“Hi, my sunshine, I’m here to take you home.” Yunho fixed your clothes and lifted your body onto his back, “Mingi is gonna take good care of you because I can’t. I have students I still need to tutor.”

You whined at his words, “But..want you to be home, all of you to be home.”

He couldn’t help but frown as he walked the two of you out the door, “I know, sunshine, but you know how busy we are. Seonghwa and Mingi are at home. You know the rest have their sports practice, I’m not sure if Wooyoung is home or not, but if he is, you know he’ll cook you a nice meal.” He could feel your ruined panties against his back, he’d have to tell Mingi to change you.

Yunho gently sat you in the passenger seat, reaching in the back to grab a blanket, covering your shaking legs, “Oh, sunshine, he really put you through it.” He chuckled to himself.

“Yunho?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Shut up.”

Yunho looked offended before he went around the car to get in the passenger seat, “You know, as rich as you are, you seem to love to be spoiled only by your eight boyfriends.”

“Yeah well, the money doesn’t matter to me, all that matters is I have you guys. It would be very lonely in that mansion without you boys.” You sighed, fiddling with your fingers.

As the car rumbled to life, Yunho reached over the console to grip your blanket covered leg, “Sunshine, don’t worry, we won’t be going anywhere. We wouldn’t dream of it. You’re stuck with us and us with you.”

-

Yunho honked the horn a couple times and a very rough looking Mingi wobbled out of the front door. He must’ve been sleeping. His white hair was a mess, his black rimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. His shirt was wrinkled and his basketball shorts hung low on his waist. He wore his cute little flip flops too. You did spoil them with designer clothes but sometimes they liked to dress normal, and so did you.

His face brightened up when he saw you in the front seat. He was like an excited puppy as he opened the passenger seat, “Hi Yunho, hello my princess.” Mingi’s plush lips pressed against yours as he leaned into the car, his huge hand practically swallowed your cheek.

Yunho leaned over the console and smacked Mingi’s shoulder, “Come on, lover boy, take her inside and do what I told you, I gotta get back to lessons. I cannot be late.”

“Be nice, Yuyu, he’s just excited to see me.” You unbuckled your seat belt and tossed the blanket in the back. You tried to step out of the car but your wobbly legs nearly gave out on you, luckily Mingi caught you.

“Goodbye Yunho.” You both waved your goodbyes as he drove away.

He carried you inside, already dismissing your butler and cleaning servants earlier. He knew he was about to make you scream in the bathroom, of course he had to be careful, knowing you just had the daylight fucked out of you by one your shared older boyfriends.

He took you up the giant staircase, took a left and brought you into the main bathroom. The massive tub sat in the middle, it was a square marble tub. The inner lining itself was white and had jets hooked in.

After he sat you on the side of the tub, he slowly pulled off your shoes, your socks. His cheeks reddened when he saw the state of your underwear but continued on, removing your clothes.

“Just sit here and look pretty, I’m gonna let the bath run.” He leaned over to turn the hot water on, “Did you need anything else?”

“Do you mind staying with me, Mingi? I’m really sore and don’t want to be alone..I’ll let you clean me?”

Mingi grinned at that, anything for his princess, “Of course I can.” He threw his wrinkled tank top to the side, his glasses falling to the ground but he didn’t care. He was stripped within seconds, proudly standing bare before you.

You slowly sunk yourself into the water and Mingi sat behind you, his chest pressed against your back, “The warm water feel good, princess?”

You let out a moan in contentment, the water already doing wonders on your sore cunt, “Yes, Mingi, it’s amazing, thank you, big boy.”

Minutes after just relaxing in the water, the tall man’s hand slinked around your shoulder to wrap around your throat, “it’s okay, princess.”

You let out a whimper as you could feel his hardening cock from behind.

“I won’t fuck you with my cock because I know you’re hurting, but you can handle my fingers, right?” His husky voice reverberated in your ear. If it wasn’t for the water, you just knew you’d be wet right now.

“Mingi, please, don’t tease me and just touch me.” Your ass pressed against his cock and his grip on your neck tightened in response.

“I’ll touch you but you just can’t move, got it?”

You couldn’t even get out a word before his fingers went for your cunt, still stretched out from Hongjoong.

Your lips curled inward and your head fell back to his chest, “Mingi!” His fingers were already doing wonders.

His heavy breathing was so hard to focus on as his eyes were glued to the way your cunt sucked in his fingers.

Mingi’s fingers were so long they could easily touch your cervix, “I can feel Hongjoong’s cum inside of you, princess, seems like you need a good cleaning, yeah?”

You whined, “He’s your boyfriend just as much as he is mine, ah Mingi!”

His fingers squeezed your throat, “Doesn’t mean I can’t get jealous, this cunt is heavenly.”

His teeth latched onto your shoulder as he quickened his pace, the water was splashing everywhere. His fingers never slowed down. You could feel his calloused fingertips touching your walls. Those guitar playing fingers.

“Come on, princess, cum for me, cleanse that delicious cunt for me.” He let out a growl.

With your cunt still overstimulated, your orgasm came quick and flooded around his fingers.

He pulled out his fingers with a smile, watching as the water washed the cum from his fingers, “Oh, princess, seems you came a lot..” Mingi kissed along the crevice of your neck while you whined in exhaustion.

“Mingi, please, need..bed.” You could barely keep your eyes open.

“Sure, princess, let’s go get some rest in.”

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 6 - I've Been Searching for a Fortified Defense

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: As we begin our first 5-digit word count chapter (I can’t be stopped, someone take away my keyboard) and I find a stride of about two chapters per week, I want to say that: A) I fully intend on finishing this story. I plotted out the whole thing before I started, have made a few adjustments given the pacing I’ve done so far, and with how it’s broken down right now we’ll reach the end in 2-3 months. B) Thank y’all from the bottom of my heart for reading! If you have theories or thoughts or feedback please don’t hesitate to share them! I love hearing what you think of the plot and the characters, and every interaction means the world to me. Whether you’re only reading or leaving comments as well, thank you so damn much. I’ll see you next chapter (it’s gonna be a doozy) <3

Chapter Title from Bells in Santa Fe by Halsey.

Word Count: 11.2k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You throw a punch, and Phase One: Operation Quick and Bald goes. Not well, but it goes. Contains usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, fluff, angst

Read on A03!

Chapter 5 - Chapter 7

Taglist: @lordofthunderthr @kritara

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

Ben dodged the third punch in a row, grinning widely right up until the fourth one landed on his face.

“Ha!” She yelled, drawing back to shake her first out. “Take that, you weirdly fast man.”

Ben rolled his eyes, rubbing his face lightly. It hadn’t hurt—he’d barely even felt it—but She was being real fucking smug for someone who’d only just landed a hit after a damn week of attempting to do so.

“Yeah, sure, Sunshine. Keep it the fuck up, and at this rate it’ll only take you another couple thousand years to surpass Muhammad Ali.”

She raised her brows at Ben, pausing with a tilt of her head. “You were a fan of Muhammad Ali?”

He nodded, giving her a scrunched look of annoyance. “I’m a fucking American, and there ain’t nothing more red-blooded American than punching commies like that son of a bitch did.”

“What?”

“When he fought the Russian, and won. That’s fucking American.”

“Ben, you’re thinking of the plot of Rocky IV.”

“No, Muhammad Ali fought that Russian pussy and kicked his fucking ass.”

“No, Sylvester Stallone fought the Russian pussy and kicked his fucking ass. In a movie.” She laughed to herself. “I’m shocked you even saw Rocky IV, let alone were so impacted by it to let the plot override your knowledge of a real life person.”

“Shut up,” Ben grunted, moving his hands back to a defensive stance. She fucking always won these stupid arguments, and Ben couldn’t actually prove it, but he knew She was changing the fucking internet she loved so damn much to match her claims. “Go again.”

“Someone missed nap time.” She muttered under her breath, even though she knew Ben could fucking hear her, but put her fists up anyways. “Can this be the last one? I’m hungry.”

Instead of answering, Ben just launched himself at her, and She jumped to the side with a yelp.

“What the fuck, Ben!”

He turned and threw another punch, feeling pleased at the smooth way she ducked away and met it with a punch of her own. Her face had lost the pissy shock, laser-sharp concentration replacing it. Her eyes were narrowed, darting across Ben as he moved, her bobbing and weaving wasn’t entirely shit, and her heart was controlled with her breathing. She landed her second punch, this one on his shoulder, and Ben laughed, delivering one of his own.

“Christ, Sunshine, you’re fucking weak.” He laughed, examining Her carefully for any loss of control.

“I’ll kill you with my bare hands, Bitch.” She growled, lunging forward and grunting in frustration as Ben dodged with ease.

“That’s my line.” He taunted. “And you couldn’t even kill a man with an assault rifle if he was a fucking foot away from you.”

“Blow me.”

“I’ve been fucking trying- Fuck!” She landed her third punch, and it burned. Ben reached to touch where she’d hit and felt the skin mending across his jaw.

She was grinning in a wide, toothy, satisfied way. “Suck on that, cunt.”

“Bitch,” he muttered, looking down at his hand to see it raw and red from the contact with his face, with some of his fucking hair stuck to it.

“Did you burn off my fucking beard!” His head shot up to see a half-sheepish, half-amused look on her face, lips curled and eyes wide.

“Oops.”

He yelled her name, and she had the fucking nerve to giggle. “We said no fucking powers!”

“I forgot.” She said lamely, her face less and less apologetic by the second, giggling again as she offered some of the most insincere comfort Ben had ever heard. “It’s not even that noticeable! You look just as good as before!”

His anger faded, and he gave Her a cocky smirk, raising his brows. “You think I look good, Sunshine?”

“I’m being nice. Don’t ruin it.” She muttered, her face adorably flushed, and Ben didn’t miss the skip of her heart.

“Whatever keeps you up at night.”

“That’s not the phrase.”

He winked. “I know.”

She scoffed and turned away, but not before Ben could see the slight smile on her lips. “I’m going to shower, I’ll meet you in the living room in fifteen. If you’re not there, with food, I’m eating the TV.”

Ben frowned, calling after Her figure moving down the hall. “Has the TV been edible this whole fucking time and you didn’t fucking tell me?!”

Her laughter echoed back down the hall. "You're real fucking gullible, grampa!"

“You know I can’t fucking tell when you’re joking about that shit, you bitch!”

“Fourteen minutes, cunt!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to make food in fourteen minutes?!”

“You’re a big boy, you’ll figure it out!”

Grumbling a string of cusses Ben hoped She could fucking feel, Ben grabbed a cup of instant noodles and threw them in the microwave, wondering if She would notice if he spit in hers. After pulling them out, grabbing two spoons from the counter that he almost immediately bent, spilling one of the cups as he noticed the damaged utensils, spilling the other when he noticed the first spill, and having to start the whole damned fucking thing over, Ben made his way to drop on the couch next to where She sat, wet hair clinging to her pretty face.

“Heard a lot of swearing, Pretty Boy, everything ok?”

He grunted, shoving Her noodles against her chest and letting go, not giving a fuck if she had a grip on them. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Just asking a question,” he could hear her shit-eating grin. “Thought it was a free country. Thought a patriot like you would appreciate me exercising my first amendment right.”

“That protects you from the government, not me.” Ben parroted back the words She had yelled at him after he’d made the apparently fucking fatal mistake of saying “first amendment right” in her presence.

She chuckled, her voice teasing. “Didn’t know you were capable of retaining information about something other than yourself.”

“Well, your tits were looking great while you were bitching. It helped.” He grabbed the remote, raising it to the TV. “I made food. I’m picking what we watch.”

“If you pick Game of Thrones so you can watch the sex scenes again, I’m figuring out a way to kill myself and doing it on your bed.”

“Whatever gets you in my bed, Sunshine.” He winked. “And I’m invested in the fucking plot, it’s not just the sex scenes.”

“It’s mostly the sex scenes.” She said, not even flinching at his flirtation. “Just go watch porn. See how fast you can break the fleshlights. If you do all three in ten minutes, Butcher owes me twenty dollars.”

Ben scowled, not enjoying that She’d apparently been making fucking bets with Butcher about his masturbation. “I can last longer than ten fucking minutes, I’m not a fucking pussy.”

“Prove it.”

He grinned widely at Her as her face flushed adorably, her own phrasing catching up with her head. “I’d be honored, Sunshine.”

“You’re like a fucking rabbit in heat.” She muttered. “And if you do last longer than ten, Hughie gets the money, so keep that in mind when you’re jerking it to dragon boobs after I go to bed.”

“The dragons don’t have any fucking boobs, dumbass, the fucking hot lady queens do.” Ben said smugly, ignoring her eye roll. “And I would ‘jerk it’ in the privacy of my room, but someone won’t give me a fucking phone.”

“Yeah, the CIA. I’d actually back you up with Mallory, Pretty Boy. I think giving you a phone would be really entertaining.”

“I don’t need your fucking help.” He snapped, and she laughed.

“Can’t rely on just a handsome face to convince her that you somehow deserve the internet.”

“Handsome face?” He grinned at her, and only the slight stutter of her heart told Ben she heard him.

She made a mock face of thought. “Maybe if we suggested parental controls…”

“I’ll kill you, bitch.”

“I’ll make you the most useless and sad eunuch to ever grace this sorry planet, cunt.”

Ben glared at Her, and she reached over his arm to press play on the remote.

Most of the days since the failed Sister Sage mission had been like this. She and Ben got up, trained, ate, trained more, and then watched TV with dinner until She retreated to her room and Ben fought sleep for the rest of the night, alone. Neither of them mentioned how he’d saved her, or how She had started a habit of slapping Ben awake—he was pretty fucking certain that at this point she had figured out another way to break through the nightmares but was purposely choosing to fucking hit him instead—before she’d sit next to him for an hour or two after. Ben liked this unspoken arrangement, and liked even more how She had silently agreed to it. Just because he didn’t actively hate Her right now didn’t mean he was about become a sniveling pussy mess about feelings. Even if the lack of active hatred had morphed into something pulsing in his chest that he didn’t understand, and didn't fucking want to. Making Her instant noodles and not killing her when she lied to him for fun or called him “Pretty Boy” was as far as Ben would bend.

It had been mostly radio silence from the Boys, though Butcher and Cocksucker had visited two days after they’d dropped Her and Ben back at the safe house, as Cocksucker had managed to break his arm. There had been a long, incredibly boring and poorly told story as to how the injury had occurred, involving a supe, Nikola Tesla and something called a Cybertruck, but Ben had pretty much tuned out the entire fucking conversation once he realized they weren’t here for him at all. The only thing that had kept him from retreating to his room for the duration of the visit was the small falter in Her heart when she touched Cocksucker, her jaw clenched as Ben and Butcher watched Cocksucker’s arm heal into place in a fucking disgusting manner.

When She’d let go, she’d given Ben a weird fucking look with tight lips and sad eyes that he'd only seen before on Cocksucker. It had passed quickly, her face returning to apathetic and bored, her eyes regaining the sharp amusement they usually held, but fuck it had confused him. She and Butcher had started talking about missions and planning and other mind-numbing shit, Cocksucker shaking out his arm as if he didn’t trust that it was healed, and Ben had needed to piss and gone to do just that. Before he’d left, he’d caught Her a look of where the hell are you’d going, he’d grinned back with a wink of why, you want to join me?, and she’d rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Butcher. When he’d returned, Butcher and Cocksucker had left and She was glaring at him, arms across her chest.

“Are you an idiot, or just a dick?” She’d snapped.

He’d frowned at Her, trying to figure out what had made her all fucking bitchy. As far as Ben was concerned, he’d been fucking amazing, only calling Butcher a pussy twice and managing to refrain from talking to Cocksucker at all. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Butcher told me we’re moving on operation Quick and Bald soon. He told me you knew. Why didn’t you fucking tell me?!”

“Oh,” Ben had rolled his eyes. “I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

He’d shrugged. “Well, you fucking know now, so get over it. And what kind of fucking shit codename is Quick and Bald?”

“Fuck you, it’s an accurate and descriptive name.”

“How the fuck could that be ‘accurate and descriptive’?”

“Because two key factors of this phase of my plan are the quick and the bald.”

“Your plan?”

“Yeah, my fucking plan. That I fucking deserved to know the status of.” She’d scowled. “Butcher says it’s almost ready. He’ll get us in two days once it’s in place.”

That had been five days ago. Starlight and Cocksucker had dropped in after two days, full of apologies and updates that Ben didn’t give a fuck about, and when he’d asked Her for more information about the plan, she’d told him to “suck her dick and shove his questions up his ass until they reached his brain.”

So Ben still had no fucking clue what Quick and Bald was about.

Aside from Her lingering anger at him for apparently having the fucking nerve to ask questions about the jobs he had to do—an opinion he had made the mistake of voicing, leading the unwelcome lesson on the first amendment—She was being impossibly easy to talk to, and Ben was getting dangerously close to not only enjoying her company, but finding her comfortable. Part of him was hoping she’d say something very, very soon that would allow him to grip onto hatred, or at least indifference, for the rest of his time in this stupid fucking situation.

Instead, in a way that made Ben think God himself was out to fucking get him, he’d started to tell her things. Fucking voluntarily.

One of those nights where sleep had gripped his head and pulled him under, struggling and roaring, he’d woken up once more from only the force and sting of her hand across his face. She’d sat next to him again, and he’d asked her more questions about before, all of which she’d answered with a faraway, insufferably sad look in her eyes.

“How many siblings did you fucking have again?” He’d pressed once.

“Four,” She’d responded, a wistful smile on her face. “Two brothers, two sisters. All younger.”

“Your parents had four more kids after you? What, were you that fucking annoying they needed to try again four fucking times?”

“No, I was just so adorable they needed to try and recreate my perfection. Once they realized that was impossible, they gave up.” She’d smirked, and Ben hated that somehow he didn’t doubt her words. “Well,” she’d mused to herself. “That and they fell violently out of love with each other.”

“Violently?” He’d made a face, and she’d nodded solemnly.

“I shielded my siblings from a lot of flying plates.”

Ben found another thing to hate. Her parents, and how fucking sad she looked. “You miss them?”

“My parents?” She’d snorted. “I miss my dad. I hope my mom gets her head popped.”

He’d coughed to cover a laugh. “No, you fucking smartass. Your siblings.”

Her answer was quick and soft. “Every fucking day.”

Ben had grunted, watching the distance return to her face, and before he could stop himself, he was talking. “I didn’t have any siblings.”

Before he could curse himself out and try to distract Her with something else, she had been looking back at him with wide, focused eyes. “Do you wish you did?”

“I never thought about it,” he’d muttered. “My father was such a fucking dick I’m surprised he even got my mother to marry him, let alone fucking have one kid. I think he hated me enough to never fucking risk it again.”

“Risk it?” She’d kept her voice impossibly gentle as she’d asked, and it made his skin crawl all weird.

“I was the biggest fucking regret of his life. If he could go back and stop me from happening in the first place, make my mother flush me out, he wouldn’t have fucking hesitated.”

She’d paused, and a very fucking stupid part of Ben had thought she was going to let the conversation go. Of course, he should’ve fucking known by now that She damn well wouldn’t.

“What was your mom like?”

He hadn’t fucking expected that, and it had shocked him enough to answer. “Kind. Too kind for my father, he saw it as fucking weakness and told her all the fucking time. But she was so fucking kind.” He took a heavy breath. “She was full of love, and I have no fucking clue how. It was fucking stupid, all her love, even for my piece of shit father. He’d yell at her and threaten her and mock her, but she still fucking loved him. She fucking loved everything.”

Her voice was still gentle from beside him. “Like what?”

“Animals. Cats specifically. My father had all these fucking hunting dogs he loved more than anything, certainly more than me, and the only good thing he ever fucking did was trade one to get her a cat. It was massive, fluffy and gray, and it was a fucking asshole to everyone but her. It ate like a fucking elephant, shed like a whore in summer, but she loved it so fucking much.” At this point Ben had really wished he would shut the fuck up, but he couldn’t, and he was going to have to figure out a way to blame Her for that later. “She loved art. Painting. She tried to get me to love it too, even though I could barely draw a fucking worm. But I’d try, and she’d frame all my stupid, shitty drawings and hang them around the house until my father saw them and threw them in the trash. She loved music but couldn’t carry a tune if her life fucking depended on it. They’d go to the opera because my father would donate a ton for the publicity, and she’d come back all damn giddy. I’d wait up, just because she was fucking contagious when she was that happy. Even my father felt it, enough to just go straight to bed and not kick my ass for still being awake. She was fucking smart, too. Real fucking smart. My father would joke he wished she was a man, because then her brain would be useful. She would’ve fucking jumped for joy if she saw the world now. Met a fucking woman doctor.” He paused, looking back down at Her beside him. She hadn’t looked away from him, and there was none of the pity he’d expected to see on her face. It was just open, listening intently to his words with no malice or trickery behind her eyes.

“She sounds amazing.” She’d said softly, a small smile he didn’t understand on her face. “And your dad sounds like a fucking cunt.”

Ben had chuckled in surprise. “Fucking understatement of the damn year, Sunshine. That pussy would’ve tried to pry your degree from your fucking hands.”

“Let him try, I’d burn his fucking face off and laugh while I did it.”

“What were you even going to fucking do with a PhD in archeology?" He’d asked, and she’d huffed a small laugh.

“Anthropology, Pretty Boy. But nice guess.” She corrected. “And I’m honestly not sure. I’d quite literarily only just actually received the degree before everything… changed.” She’d sighed. “I had a few job offers, but mostly in academia and business. What I wanted was to work with nonprofits to help people.”

“Help people?” He’d given her a disbelieving stare. “With a prissy fucking degree?”

“Yeah, dickwad. Help people. I was a cultural anthropologist. I specialized in the evolution of cultures and ways to combat systemic cultural oppression.”

He’d stared at Her blankly. “You’re going to have to take down the fucking fancy talk by seven, Sunshine.”

“I studied how the government and culture is mean to people on purpose, and how to make them stop being mean.” She’d said flatly.

“Oh.” He’d rolled his eyes at the dirty look she was giving him. “Oh, fuck off. It wasn’t that painful to say.”

“Yes, it was.” She’d mumbled, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’re not going to argue with me?”

“What’s there to fucking argue about?”

“I just called your beloved country an ‘oppressive system’.” She’d watched him wearily, but her heart remained steady. “Doesn’t it mar your refined American nationalism?”

“Do you fucking want me to be mad?” Ben had asked, raising his brows at her. “I can definitely find it in me, that’s not a fucking issue. But usually when we fight about this shit, you get all bitchy and don’t talk to me for way too fucking long.”

“I mean, no, I don’t want you to get mad…” She’d frowned, examining him with yet another fucking confusing look. “Does it really bother you when I ignore you?”

“No.” He’d snapped quickly. “It’s just annoying, and I don’t like having to fucking deal with it.”

She’d hummed with an amused smile on her face, and the conversation had moved on to something else. Ben had shoved down the way it had been so easy to talk about his mother with her, until it was somewhere in his gut and he didn’t have to think about the way the feeling rolled around inside him.

And he refused to even acknowledge how when She would smile now, he’d have to fight himself to not do the same.

———-

It had been a week since the Sage incident, a week since Ben had saved your life—you'd locked everything about that particular action from what you thought of it to how it made you feel somewhere deep in your chest—and you were starting to lose your mind a little bit. When Annie and Hughie had stopped by with nervous words about delays in your meticulously prepared and incredibly well-detailed plan, you’d been willing to wait another day, maybe two, before executing operation Quick and Bald. Now it had been three days, burgeoning on four, and you were worryingly close to leaving the safe house just to yell at Butcher. Ben could stay here, or follow you and help you beat Butcher up for all you cared. Which was, admittedly, worrying within itself. Especially because the whole point of operation Quick and Bald was to take preventative measures against Ben’s needless brutality.

Over a month ago, right after you’d moved into the safe house and when you had been ready to throttle Ben’s neck every waking moment—an urge that hadn’t entirely waned, but was now undercut with a weirder, stronger urge to be near him without any murderous intent—you’d spent the hours quarantined in your room perfecting your plan to get Ryan Butcher the fuck out of dodge. When they’d come to pick you and Ben up for the whole Neuman test, you’d left it in the van for Butcher to find, and had been waiting since for him to set up the dominoes so you could knock them over.

At this point, you’d be happy with not even “dominos to knock over” and just “one singular domino to throw at someone." You had begun to develop a habit of staring down the hall from the living room, trying to will someone to appear with at least a fucking update. So far this strategy was not working, and had apparently started to garner attention.

Sitting on the couch, the TV white noise in the background and noodles in your hand cold and forgotten, you felt a foreign rush of oddly tight concern run through your body. You frowned, heard your name from next to you, and turned to find that Ben had been poking your arm.

“Are you fucking alive?” He grunted, watching you with a frown.

“Literally? Yes.” You answered with a tight smile. “You have noodles on your face.”

He reached up to feel for them, not looking away from you. “What the fuck do you mean literally? How can you be fucking metaphorically alive?”

“Mind-body problem, Pretty Boy. And it’s not metaphorically, it’s philosophically.” You lean back, grinning.

“You’re a real fucking pretentious bitch sometimes.” He grumbled, still trying to find the food stuck to his beard.

“If you made me a shirt that said that, I’d wear it.”

“I’m not going to fucking make you a shirt, Sunshine. You couldn’t make me learn to fucking sow with a gun to my head.”

“Because the gun wouldn’t affect you at all?” You pointed to your own chin, mirroring where the noodle was caught.

He sneered. “Because I’m not a pussy.” His hand found the stray piece of his dinner, and he pulled it from his jaw.

“Big words from the man who took two tries to make me instant ramen- hey!” A wet noodle hits you in the face.

“Ramen your ungrateful ass didn’t even fucking eat.” Ben gave a pointed look at the abandoned cup in your hands, the food inside having long lost any heat. “Don’t fucking test me, or I’ll actually spit in your food next time.”

“Drama queen,” you muttered, peeking back at the door. “Like you don’t already do that.”

“I fight the urge to be a fucking bitch, unlike certain women.”

You nod absentmindedly. “Butcher.”

Ben snorted behind you, and a smile you hoped he didn’t see crept onto your face.

“Yeah, sure Sunshine.” His attention returned to the TV, and you did your best to not stare down the hall, trying to ignore the hope that the door now shrouded in darkness would open.

A successful effort that made you jump out of your seat when it did just that with an aggressive bang.

Ben was faster than you, practically launching himself over the sofa and bolting down the hall, a dangerous look of alarm the last thing you saw on his face before he was gone from the room.

“Shit, no! It’s me!” You heard a high-pitched shout from the shadows of the entrance. “It’s Hughie!”

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You heard Ben’s growl of a response.

Butcher’s voice drawled from the shadows. “Oi, take a deep fucking breath and put the bloody kid down.” 

“Someone fucking answer me first.”

“Put him down, Soldier Boy, before we knock your ancient ass the fuck out.” The impatient, clipped words of MM responded, almost drowned out by Frenchie's shout.

“Can someone turn on the fucking lights? It is as dark as Monsieur Butcher’s heart and asshole!” 

“I- I don’t feel good.” Hughie’s voice stuttered.

“Ben!” You flicked on the hallway sconces, illuminating a scene of Ben’s full body weight pressing Hughie to the wall, Butcher and MM trying with practically negative success to pry him off, and Kimiko gripping one of Frenchie’s arms as his other groped around for direction. You let out a very long, very loud sigh. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s fucking late,” he snapped, not letting Hughie go. “They shouldn’t be here so fucking late.”

“This ain’t your real house, Mate.” Butcher grunted, still trying to move Ben. “We can be here whenever we bloody well please.”

Hughie wheezed out your name in a pleading tone. “Your plan is ready. We’re here to- fuck- we’re here to get you.”

That got you moving, crossing to the end of the hall in quick, frantic steps. “It’s ready? Are you sure?” Hughie gave a weak nod, and you rolled your eyes, shoving Ben shoulder. “Put him down, dumbass. He’s not a threat, and honestly, probably the worst one to have gone after. Just, like, strategically.”

Ben glared at you, but let go. He glanced at where MM and Butcher were still grabbing him, and gave them a venomous look that got them both to let go and take hasty steps back. He shot a glowering look of they could’ve fucking waited until the morning in your direction.

You wrinkled your nose at him. No. Shut the fuck up. You turned to Hughie, not even bothering to hide the desperation you felt in your imploring stare. “It’s all ready? All of it? A-Train agreed to help? We’re sure Ashley has the information? We’re sure neither one is going to tell Homelander, and we’re not about to walk into a fucking trap?”

“Yes, yes, yes, kind of, and yes.” Butcher counted off on his fingers as he answered. “But we’ve got to go right fucking now.”

“Kind of?” Anxious energy rushed through you—that still-strange feeling lighting under your skin—and you ignored the weird look Ben shot you as it did. “What do you mean, kind of? If you fucked this up, Butcher, I swear to God-"

“Calm the fuck down, Love.” Butcher snapped. “It’s going to be fine, we’ll explain on the way. But we need to go fucking now if you want this to work.”

You gave a sharp nod, starting to pull on your boot, glancing up with a pause when you heard Hughie say your name behind you.

“Do you, uh, do you want to get dressed first?” His voice was still slightly weak as he recovered from Ben’s force.

You glanced down at your body, and decided that the oversized shirt and cloth shorts would be fine. They were from the CIA spring fire-proof collection, and that was more than enough. “Nope. Let’s fucking move.”

You were halfway to the door when a crash sounded behind you, and you whirled around to see MM firmly blocking Ben’s path, the crash seeming to have been Hughie stumbling into the wall in an attempt to get away from the standoff.

“You’re not coming, Soldier Boy. This is a goddamn delicate operation, and you’re the fucking reason we have to do it in the first place. We can’t afford you throwing a tantrum and screwing us.”

“I’m fucking coming, and it’s not up for fucking debate.”

Off to the side, Frenchie snickered as Kimiko signed how many times do you think he’s said that before?

Ben shot them an annoyed look, his fists clenching. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“Nothing,” Frenchie snickered, and his tone was so remarkably unconvincing that even if you hadn’t understood Kimiko, you wouldn’t have believed him.

Ben grunted and tried to move past MM, again to no avail.

He glared down at the firmly planted man, a familiar violent glint in his eyes. “You better fucking move now, before I make you.”

“Do your fucking worst, we’ll put you right back in the box. You’re not coming with us.”

“MM,” you said firmly, watching Ben's fists clench as the dangerous glint returns to his eyes. “We need to go.”

MM looks back at you, but remains in his place. “Are you fucking serious? You’re siding with him?”

“I’m not siding with him.” You keep your voice level, ignoring Ben’s smug face and grin. “We can’t leave him. The I go where he goes thing unfortunately goes both ways.”

“The safe house will hold him for five hours.” MM pushed, and before you could even shake your head, Ben cut in.=

"No, it won’t.”

You shoot him a look that says you’re being unhelpful, and he just returns it with his own of fuck off, you know you fucking want me there.

“Please, MM. He’ll stay quiet in the background, or I’ll burn his dick off. Right?” You direct your last words at Ben, giving him a pointed agree with me or I’m knocking you out and leaving you here look.

“Yeah, whatever. But I’m not staying in the fucking van like a pussy. And you’d better explain what the fuck is happening on the way, Sunshine.”

“Deal. But first they,” You narrowed your eyes at Butcher. “Have some explaining of their own to do.”

“Don’t lose your bloody mind, Love, it’s all in order.” Butcher said breezily, shoving past you to open the door. He gave a dramatic wave of his arm for you to exit, and with a look of doubt, you did.

The car ride was already poised to be uncomfortable. Butcher’s car was not equipped for seven people, let alone seven people where three were very large men, three were supes, and nobody wanted to have physical contact with two. As such, Butcher drove, MM sat in the front, you found yourself squished against one window with Ben between you and a remarkably uncomfortable Hughie, as Kimiko sat, slightly elevated onto their laps, between Frenchie at the other window, and Hughie. It was overall an unideal situation, made worse as your own frustration was amplified by Ben’s, and by Hughie revealing that it was, in fact, not all in order.

Your phase one, the original operation Quick and Bald had called for Ashley Barrett’s complete cooperation. You’d even painstakingly outlined all the potential ways to flip her—most involving something along the lines of hey, wouldn’t a job that didn’t make you so stressed you rip out all your hair and have to buy a bunch of wigs be nice?—and different ways to keep Homelander from finding out about her betrayal—Spain was lovely this time of year, and had a thriving BDSM community Ashley would love. While MM had managed to take care of your instructions for A-Train, the half of the plan you’d incorrectly anticipated to be more difficult, the Ashley situation was, in Butcher’s words, very fucking delicate, but we’ve adapted and everything will be bloody fine, so trust me and don’t be a fucking cunt about it.

You did not trust him. I didn’t help that you’d asked for any other possible details, and he’d pretended he couldn’t hear you. This suspicion was confirmed when, despite your incredible clarity that you would never step foot there again, Butcher seemed to be driving right to Vought Tower.

Your eyes had been steadily widening, panic starting to run through you the closer and closer you got, and you flinched when you felt Ben’s roughly shoulder nudge your own.

“What’s fucking wrong with you?” He’d asked in a low voice, barely audible over Hughie’s rambling explanation.

“You should listen,” you mutter back, trying to shut out the confusing concern he always seemed to feel at you, how it felt remarkably genuine, but was laced with anger that felt like it was trying to push out of your body. “Hughie’s explaining the plan.”

“Yeah, but all I have to fucking do is stay quiet, and I get to keep my dick. You’re being fucking twitchy and silent, and your heart is beating faster than it has all damn day, so don’t even try to fucking lie and tell me it’s fine.”

“It is fine, I’m fine-“ You paused as his words sank in. “Wait, what do you mean my heart-“

“Alright, here we go.” Butcher cut off both you and Hughie with a clap of his hands. “Everyone bloody out, let’s get this shitshow on the road.”

“Butcher,” you said, looking around to see you’d parked directly across from the tower entrance. “What the fuck are we doing here?”

“We’re meeting them right there.” MM answered for Butcher, pointing out of his window to something you couldn’t see. “It’s almost midnight, and Annie’s been making sure nobody gets inside but us.”

“But why?” You protest, even as MM leaves the car. “This,” you give a wide, general wave that hits Ben in the nose. “Cannot be the only option.”

“Both of them still have their trackers,” Hughie leans forward with an apologetic look as Frenchie and Kimiko exit the car. “This will look like they’re just getting a midnight snack, and hopefully Homelander won’t get suspicious.”

“Hopefully?!” You feel a rush of anger—not yours—and a twist of fear deep within your gut—absolutely yours. “Hopefully fucking Homelander won’t get suspicious?!”

Hughie gave an uncertain nod before very quickly scrambling to get out of the car. You take a long, deep breath, trying to steel yourself. A rush of what was becoming a familiar fuming and brittle concern ran through you. You look at Ben, to find his eyes locked firmly onto yours.

“Sorry about hitting-“

“I know how to hot-wire a car.”

You blink at him, taken aback by the firmness of his voice. “What?”

His hand moved to grip your thigh, his gaze not wavering. “I know how to hot-wire a car.”

You give him a flat look. “Yeah, I heard you the first time. Why are you telling me that?”

His frustration leaked into you. “Because say the word, I’ll steal Butcher’s car, and we’ll fucking leave.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“You look like you’re either going to start fucking crying or burst into flames, and this is a stupid fucking idea.”

“This was my plan.” You snap. “And I’m not stealing Butcher’s car. Why do you even know how to hot-wire a car anyway?”

Ben’s grip tightened. “No, your plan was stupidly well fucking thought out.”

“That’s an oxymoron.” You mutter, and he ignores you.

“And even if they haven’t completely fucking blown the execution, they completely squashed any chance of safety.”

“It’ll be fine,” you say, the words sounding fake even as you say them. “It’s late. He’s probably asleep.”

“What if he’s not?” His concern was starting to move to your throat, and there was something else, something sitting far deeper in your chest, beating and beating against you. Against you.

“Ben.” You place your hand over his. “I’ve worked too hard on this. This is the only way, and it will be fine.” You say the last words firmly and clearly, trying to make them sink into you. “Now take your fucking hand off of me, and get out of the damn car.”

He pulls himself from you, and even as his touch leaves, the concern and beat linger until he’s gone from the car. You drag yourself across the seats and ignore Hughie’s offer of a hand as you duck out of the car and onto the curb. You notice the 24 hour diner MM must have been pointing out almost immediately, half because—aside from an incredibly sketchy looking deli a few doors down—it’s the only building with its lights still on, and half because two very flustered teenagers are sulking away from the entrance, where Annie stands with her arms crossed. She’s already spotted your group, and has angeled her head in a signal to join her.

“You’re late.” She chides as you approach.

“Well, Starlight, I’d apologize, but it was those two fuckheads,” Ben and MM both receive a jabbed thumb over Butcher’s shoulder. “Who decided to draw out the bloody carpool process.”

“I told you not to call me Starlight anymore, Butcher.” Annie snaps, not giving him a chance to respond before she turns to you. “A-Train is, somehow, running behind as well. Hopefully Ashley’s just being resistant to getting food with him, but they’ll be here.”

“Isn’t running that pussy’s whole fucking thing?” Ben muttered, quiet enough for only you to hear. You step as hard as you can on his foot.

“Shut it, Pretty Boy.” You whisper over his grunt of what probably is more emotional pain than physical.

“Bitch.” He hisses back.

“Cunt.” You raise your voice so the others can hear you. “We should go inside, it’s risky to just… stand here.”

With nervous looks around and stuttered agreements, you all make your way into the diner. The lights are flickering, and it’s eerily empty with only a very nervous-looking blonde waitress at the counter. She makes a very big show of asking how many are in your party, leading you to a large, round table, and laying out the menus with shaky hands. Kimiko, Hughie, Annie, and MM try and offer her comforting smiles, though MM’s is strained as he keeps a vigilant glare on Ben. The waitress is staring at Ben herself, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, glacing back as she leaves to get your and Butcher’s coffee, Annie and MM’s tea, Kimiko and Hughie’s milkshakes, and Ben and Frenchie’s orders of “the strongest alcohol you’ve fucking got.” Your personal bet was it was going to just be very old beer.

“Why is she fucking staring at me?” Ben muttered to you, watching the waitress as she walked away. “Did you fuck up my beard that bad?”

“Your beard looks literally the same.” You dismiss. “And it’s because, as far as the public knows, Maeve killed you in a heroic act of self-sacrifice to stop your evil, anti-American attacks. That, or she wants to fuck you.”

“Hm,” he looks back at you, settling down into his seat. “Am I allowed to bring guests into the safe house?”

“No.” You say, a little more curtly than you intended. Seeing his wide, cocky grin, you clairfy. “It’s a breach of security. She would need to pass a CIA vetting and be approved by, like, twenty people. I don’t think she’d do that just to fuck you.”

Ben shrugs, his smirk only growing. “You did.”

“I’m going to cut off your balls and feed them to you-“

“Hey,” MM cuts you off, saying your name in a brisk, hard tone from across the table. “They’re here.”

You snap your head to the door, where A-Train is practically pushing Ashley into the diner.

You hear her voice clearly over the recession pop humming from the speakers. “Why can’t we just go to the fucking deli? They make these amazing meatball subs and supes eat free, so you could order for both of us- oh fuck no.”

“Oh, shit.” MM mutters, jumping to his feet with Butcher and Annie as Ashley notices them, and promptly tries to dash for the exit.

You don’t entirely blame her. You’d probably do the same. You had done the same, an unhelpful voice reminds you.

“I- Am- Not-“ Ashley is trying to get past A-Train, who hasn’t given up trying to herd her further into the diner. “Fuck- this-“

“Ashley, just listen to them, I fucking swear-“

“Why should I trust you?!” Ashley doubles over, out of breath. “You fucking tricked me! Midnight snack my fucking ass- Fuck no!” She raises a crooked finger at Annie, who has stopped in front of her. “Get the fuck away from me, you bitch.”

“Ashley, please listen to A-Train-“

“No! Just leave me the fuck alone! I don’t want to be a part of your weird fucking eye for an eye justice shit-“

“You kind of already are.” MM says as he locks the door behind her. “You work for Vought, your it’s motherfucking CEO. That makes you a part of this, like it or not.”

“Not!” Ashley shouts. “I don’t care what you have to say! Homelander’s going to fucking kill me, oh my god.” She starts to hyperventilate. “If he finds out I was here, he’ll kill you-“ She points a shaky finger at A-Train. “And then make me go on fucking TV to explain why you’re missing, and then fucking kill me-“

Butcher scoffs. “Bloody hell, lady. Calm the fuck down, Homelander ain’t gonna find out.”

“You don’t know that!” She shrieked. “He knows fucking everything! Especially since fucking Sage joined!” She spins around frantically, and her wild eyes lock onto yours. “He knows about them!” A shaking finger jumps between you and Ben. “Fuck! He’s supposed to be fucking asleep and now he’s fucking not! And he was so fucking angry about her, I’ve never seen him so fucking angry-“

Whatever else Ashley stutters about Homelander’s anger is lost to you as the world freezes. The feeling isn’t just under your skin, it’s up your spine, in your blood, circling around your brain. It’s fucking everywhere and you can’t fucking breathe, her words looping around you.

He knows. He’s angry. He fucking knows. He’s fucking angry. He fucking knows and he’s fucking angry and he fucking knows and he’s fucking angry and-

A white hot, impossibly calm feeling crashes over you. It’s angry, hungry and angry, but it’s grounding, sharpening everything around you. Suddenly the world is back in complete focus, Ashley’s shrill rambling scraping at your ears, and in the distance that weird fucking rhythm is sounding. As the feeling in your body returns fully, you realize Ben’s hand is back on your thigh. You bounce it, looking up to give him a glare, and find he’s not even looking at you. Instead, his eyes are trained on Ashley, narrowed and cold. You give a small cough, and when he glances down at you, the feeling of anger stutters with something lighter, though only for a second.

You give another bounce of your leg, a look of move your damn hand or lose it taking over your face.

No, not until you calm the fuck down his scowl responds.

You huff, standing abruptly, and his hand falls off at the force of your movement. Suddenly you feel a lot less solid, but reason that your legs are shaky from the Homelander of it all, and if any situation calls for fractured nerves, it’s this one.

“Ashley.” You call across the diner, trying not to stutter or chew off your lip as her protests falters and attention turns to you. “If you know who I am, you know I wouldn’t be anywhere near here if we weren’t certain it was safe. Just have some food with us, listen, and then you can go.”

Ashley gives you a scowl that might surpass Ben’s but nods tightly, yanking her arm from where A-Train had been trying to hold her in place. You sit back down as the group at the door returns to their seats, the poor waitress pressing herself against the bar as they pass. Letting out a shaky, unsteady breath, you try and still yourself as you look out the diner window. City lights. Music.

City lights.

Music.

It was safe. He knows and he’s angry but was safe and there were city lights and music.

Your breathing was no longer coming in short, distressed bursts, but getting air in and out of yourself still felt like an act of labor, and you needed to get it the fuck together before Ashley sat down.

City lights. Music.

You can’t hear the song the diner is playing, instead letting your whole mind turn inward, allowing the ghost of music you can no longer sing to wash over you.

Ashley sits across from you right when you regain control, and from the corner of your eye, you see Ben pulling his hand from where it had been inching towards yours.

Her eyes flit, nerves poorly hidden, from you to Ben to Butcher to Annie and back to you, and her voice is high and shaky when she speaks. “Well?”

“Ashley, we need your help.” Annie leans forward, palms flat on the table.

“Well, then we’re done. I can’t help you. They don’t tell me anything, not really.” Ashley tries to stand, but her arm is caught by A-Train. “Really?” A-Train hisses as he pulls her back into her seat beside him. “They don’t tell you anything my ass, we sit in on all the same meetings. And I pulled these files-“ He pulls out a thumb drive from absolutely nowhere and drops it on the table. “Using your name, so you clearly have access to them.”

“What?!” Ashley looks at the thumb drive like it’s going to either explode or start jizzing on her blouse. “Why would you fucking do that?”

“Insurance.” A-Train answers smugly, the thumbdrive clearly having his intended. “I can’t open it, so you’re going to tell them how, and then I’ll erase the records of you taking the files from the system.”

Ashley looks around at your group, shaking her head. “No.”

“Sorry, Mate. We ain’t really asking.” Butcher leans across A-Train, shoving the thumb drive closer to Ashley. “Do us this solid, and A-Train won’t go right up to Homelander and tell him about how he saw you also cuddly and tight with me, Soldier Boy, and his favorite missing person.”

Your heart jumps right into your throat. City lights. Music.

Suddenly, Ben’s elbow is planted against yours, and you’re pulled back down to earth just in time to hear Ashley yell, “This is fucking blackmail! I’ll fucking sue!”

“You cannot sue government officials, madame.” Frenchie says smugly, and Hughie shakes his head.

“That’s- Frenchie, that’s not even kind of true.”

“You’re also not a government official.” Annie adds.

Frenchie looks genuinely perplexed at this and gives Kimiko a confused frown, receiving a shrug in return.

“But,” you pipe up, your voice somehow bored and casual. “I’m legally dead. He’s-“ You jab Ben in the chest, and Ashley’s eyes widen. “Legally dead and an enemy of the state. You can’t sue either of us, not without admitting some Vought secrets that will be very bad PR.” You give her a twisted smile, leering across the table. “Help us, or, even if Homelander believes you, which we both know he won’t, you’ll get fired. And I’m sure they’ll be very understanding and normal about how they do it.”

You feel a flash of weird pride and realize you can see Ben fighting a smile in your periphery.

Ashley has a fearful expression, looking at where your elbow is still connected with Ben’s. “What- what's even on it?”

“Becca Butcher files.” You say, not taking your gaze from her, but you didn’t need to look around to see the sudden, rigidness with which everyone sat. You even felt Ben’s own shock run through you.

You’d be lying if you said hiding the exact contents of the file hadn’t been a very purposeful choice that you and Butcher had made. He’d cornered you, demanding to know what you planned on doing should Soldier Boy go after Ryan, and you’d told him that it wouldn’t be an issue. Ryan looked up to Homelander, that was why he stayed. He’d lost his mother, he didn’t trust Butcher, all the poor kid had was his insane, sociopathic father. Some part of you—small and sad and tired, still sitting on a staircase in Boston—understood that. But with Becca gone, gone forever, Ryan didn’t have a place to run like you’d had. Homelander was the default, and just kind enough to his son that Ryan could force himself to forgive Homelander again and again. Homelander was safe for Ryan.

You were going to make sure Ryan never saw Homelander as safe again. And that started with Becca Butcher and would end with you. So you and Butcher had agreed with a tight handshaked that he'd ripped his hand from right after, everyone was only going to know what they needed to. That was the only way it would work.

“Becca Butcher files?” MM repeats in a slow, incredulous tone. “You,” he turns with a look of shock to Butcher. “You knew about this? You’re fuckin okay with this?”

“I’m doing what has to be done, Mate.” Butcher answers flatly, then says your name. “Tell ‘em the plan, Love.”

“We need to get Ryan away from Homelander. Ryan needs to know about his mother.”

“No,” Ashley was emerging from the shock to try and stand from the table, but A-Train’s arm shot out, pulling her back down once more. “No,” she says again, looking around desperately. “Ryan, Ryan is all he has. All he cares about. You take Ryan he’ll lose his mind-“

“He’s already lost his mind.” Something snaps in your chest—a cruel feeling waking up as you watch Ashley fret about Homelander. “And I couldn’t give less fucks about what he cares about.” The feeling is crawling across your skin. “If this hurts him, good. It could never hurt him enough to make it right.” You hear drums and still can’t place where they’re coming from. “Now listen to the last fucking strand of your morality on your scalp and fucking help us.”

Ashley shakes her head again, this time with less certainty. “It’s- no- He-“ she pulls in a deep, unsteady breath. “He won’t stop until he gets Ryan back. He already is going insane about you and him and how he needs to get you back safe and put him back down, and if Ryan goes to then nothing will stop him-“

The drums are loud now, and something that’s usually there on Ben’s face is missing. Your own body doesn’t feel entirely normal anymore, but it’s not paralyzed or running. You can feel something in Ben caving, falling inward in a growing rhythm, moving in time as something in you grows. It's not in you now, it’s across you, coating your skin and singing with glee.

“Ashley,” the sound of your voice is a little far away, but you can hear it echo through you. It’s wired, hot, a warning.

“I- I can’t.”

“Yes, you fucking can.” You sneer. “You’re just too much of a pussy to do it.” Ben coughs in the way that you know means he wants to laugh, just as the drums stutter and move farther away.

“Please, I don’t-“

“Do not make me stab you.”

Ashley falters, looking you up and down. “You won’t.”

“Trust me, she will.” Ben smirks, giving you a nudge. “She’s surprisingly violent.”

“I, I won’t. I can’t. He’ll kill me-“

“You think we won’t?” Ben growls, any amusement in him gone as you feel something unbreakable and resolved through your body.

Ashley tries to run again, this time actually managing to get up from the table, but is knocked flat on her ass by A-Train before she can take two steps. You stand and give the itch, now under your tongue and your nails, a small scratch.

“Oh, fuck no.” You hear scrambling as you walk around the table and stop, staring down at Ashley.

She’s crawling back from you, back from the fire curling from your whole body, and disgust curls in your gut. For the first time you feel anger—insatiable and gory anger—all of your own. No city lights flash around you, no hollow music dances around your head. You don’t fear Ashley. She’s weak and spineless. She’s willing to cover her hands in Ryan’s blood, in your blood, to keep herself safe from Homelander. She’s staring at you, terrified, and you don’t need to touch her to know it isn’t even a fraction of all the fear you felt in that white room. That white room she knows about, may have seen, and is still trying to keep Homelander happy.

You bend down, letting all your hatred for Vought, for her, cover your features. When you speak, your words are clear and low.

“You are going to tell Butcher how to access the thumbdrive. A-Train and you are going to take some food with you, and walk back to the tower. You aren’t going to tell Homelander about this, and if he asks, offer him some leftovers. A-Train will erase your activity from the files, and you’re going to pretend the whole night never happened. If you tell Homelander about either me or Be-“ You correct yourself smoothly. “Soldier Boy, the last thing I will do before he locks me away again is kill you. Do I make myself clear?”

Ashley nods frantically, flinching when you raise your hand.

“Say it. Say that I made myself clear.”

“You-“ Ashley stutters, hiccuping. “You made yourself clear.”

You draw yourself back up. “Good. Butcher, I’m leaving. You can drive me and come back, or Ben can steal your car, but I’m leaving.”

When you turn, when you see the looks on your team’s face, all the anger is gone, and suddenly there is a crushing, painful weight of shame on your chest. They’re looking at you like Ashley had been, like you’re no better than Homelander. Like maybe you should go back in the room, it would be safer for them, it would be safer for everyone if you were far, far away-

“You heard the lady.” Ben is standing, walking around to your side. “It’s late. We’re leaving. Sunshine?” He offers you his arm, and you stare between it and your own, still covered in flame. Looking up, his face looks bored, as if this is just another Tuesday, and he offers his arm to women who are actively ablaze on a regular basis.

Your face feels slack, and all you can manage is to blink at him. I’ll burn you, Pretty Boy. It’ll hurt.

His brows subtly knit, and he doesn’t move. I’ll live, Sunshine. Don’t let them see you break. We’re going home.

You look back at your team, a wide circle of berth having formed around you and Ben. Butcher is looking between the two of you, and you recognize that glint in his eyes. You’d seen it before, but it’s only been really, truly directed at you once. In a graveyard in Boston, gravestones and bushes around you burning in the dead of winter, holding a bucket of ice that steamed off your skin. Under it, fear begins to creep back into you, exhaustion pushing it forward. Butcher reaches behind him, and your knees feel weak.

But you don’t fall. Zealous anger, strong and raw, spreads through you and Butcher’s movements still. You look down and find Ben’s arm unflinchingly looped through yours, his body at its full height as his eyes rake coldly over Butcher.

The silence hangs in the air, cut through only by Ashley’s quick, sobbed breaths. For a second you think the smoke seeping from you will overtake the room before anyone moves, but Butcher slowly reaches into his pockets, eyes not leaving Ben’s, and throws the keys at Hughie.

“Drop them off, Mate, then come right back. No bloody detours.”

Hughie stares at the keys, looking like he’s going to protest, but Kimiko grabs them before he can.

She turns to you, completely composed, no fear wavering as she locks your eyes with hers. I’ll take you.

Before you can thank her, Frenchie steps forward, signing as he speaks. “Mon Coeur, you cannot drive.”

She frowns. Yes I can.

“No, Mon Coeur, not legally.” Frenchie says, exasperated, and you have a feeling this is not first time they've had this debate.

Kimiko rolls her eyes at you. Fine. She signs back at Frenchie, throwing the keys at him. You’ll do it.

Frenchie stumbles as he catches them, giving Kimiko a shocked look, which she pretends not to see as she walks to the door, signing at you as she passes.

Let’s go before Butcher’s brain starts working.

A small smile threatens your face, and you move, tugging Ben’s arm only once before he falls into pace with you, Frenchie scrambling behind you both.

The car ride back feels longer. The moment you’d stepped out of the diner, your body had extinguished, and you had a worrying sense that the only thing keeping you from collapsing on the sidewalk was Ben’s arm firm through yours. No words were said for the entirety of the drive, you and Ben in the backseat as Frenchie drove and Kimiko lounged in shotgun, and your brain raced. Ben hadn’t let go, and the drums were fading in and out of your chest as he stared ahead into the night.

You arrived at the safe house, only a street lamp casting a dull glow across the street. The chill of the wind cutting against you as Kimiko walked you to the door, Frenchie mumbling something about keeping the car safe from Hooligans. Ben made to step inside, but halted, still not releasing your arm, as you stayed at the doorstep.

At his questioning glare, you tried to wiggle his arm from yours. “Go inside, Ben. I’ll be right there.”

He looked down at where he was still connected with you, and you felt reluctance in time with the drums, but he let go with a scowl. “Be fast,” he grunted, and stomped into the house.

You watched until he’d disappeared fully down the hall, turning to Kimiko only once his back was shrouded in the darkness of the house.

“Thank you,” you give her a soft smile, signing as you speak. “I- I don’t know what happened, I just-“

She shakes her head, and you trail off. I understand. I get angry too. She pauses, hands hovering for only a second. We are not like them. She points down the street, in the direction of the tower, and then past you, into the house. We get to be angry.

“I don’t want to be angry.” You say softly. “He wins when I get angry.”

Kimiko gives you a sad look, placing a hand on your arm. Her own frustration, her fear of Homelander, all the anger at the world, sinks into you. She holds your gaze for a second before drawing back to sign once more. He doesn’t win when you’re angry. He wins when you’re scared. You’re not Soldier Boy. Your anger is good.

You glance back into the house. “I think he- Ben- Soldier Boy- is scared. Or something. His emotions are really fucking confusing.”

You let him touch you. She signs. Does he know?

“He said he didn’t care, because he’s, and I quote, ‘not a pussy with something to hide’.”

But he’s scared? She gives you a questioning frown. Do you think it’s because of Russia? Could you fix it, like you offered for me?

“I’m not sure, but-“ you’re cut off as Frenchie honks the horn, leaning out the window.

“Mon Coeur!” His odd position makes his signing almost unintelligible, which he seems to realize, and raises his voice. “Monsieur Butcher says to get back ‘like a hare with a bomb up it’s arse'.”

Kimiko rolls her eyes at you, but signs a goodbye, giving your hand a small squeeze before returning to the car. As the engine rumbles, Frenchie pulling out the driveway, Kimiko’s calm faith lingers in you, and you walk back into the house, shutting the door behind you.

Almost all the lamps and ceiling lights of the house are off, the TV glowing from where you had abandoned it several hours ago. From the bottom of the stairs, you can see the upstairs hall is washed in a soft yellow, and when you reach the top Ben’s door is open, the light from within filling the hall. You stop at the entrance to his room, his back to you as he pulls a cotton shirt over his head.

You let out a small cough in a weak attempt to alert him to your presence.

“You’re allowed to just come in, Sunshine.” He grunts, still facing away. “I’m not a shy little virgin you need to pussyfoot around.”

You let out a small hum, walking over the threshold and stopping a few feet behind him. “Thank you.” You say softly, and he turns around to look at you.

His eyes are tired. Pained. Something looks like it’s pulling at him and it scares you. You’ve seen that expression before, when you’d woken him up that first day, at the Neuman mission, when you pulled him from nightmares with sharp hits, but never just there. It was always with something. This was like an island, just him and you, nothing pulling it out of him.

“Don’t thank me.” He says gruffly. Even his voice is drained. “You mostly held your own.”

“But-“

“And stop feeling bad about that Ashley bitch. She fucking deserved it.”

You stare at him. “You really believe that?”

He lets out a hollow laugh. “She was fucking pathetic. A fucking pussy. Fucking eating out Homelander’s fucking hand, brown-nosing him until he fucking cums and pays her, letting him take you-“ His jaw clenches. “I fucking meant it when I said we’re not going back Sunshine. I’m not a goddamn pussy liar.”

“I didn’t think you were. But, you…” Your voice fades as you try to find the words. “I could feel you. At the diner.”

“I fucking know, that was the goddamn point. I wasn’t going to let you start crying in front of those self-righteous pussies.”

“No, Ben.” You shake your head. “I could feel you. I could feel it.” You place a hand over your chest. “It was building. There was something beating against you, inside you. And you looked…” You watch him carefully. “Scared.”

“Fucking watch it.” He growls. “I don’t get fucking scared. I’m not-“

“A fucking pussy. I know.” You sigh. “I don’t want to, I can’t, fight right now. I’m so fucking tired. You can scream at me in the morning, but not right now, please.”

He stares at you, and just when you think he’s going to start yelling, he nods. “You’re…” He sounds strange. “You’re ok.”

Just like the last time he said it, the words aren’t phrased like a question. They don’t feel like a question. It feels like he’s just telling you again. But there’s something under it this time, something that makes his words almost unsure. Something that makes up your mind faster than you thought you would.

“Are you?” You ask quietly.

“Of course I fucking am.”

“Ben.” You tilt your head at him. “I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to respond now.”

“You’re being fucking weird, Sunshine.”

“Please.”

He relents with a grunt. “Fucking fine. What.”

“I can fix it.” It’s so hard to keep his gaze as you speak. “It will take time, but I can fix it.”

“Fix what.” He scowls. “There’s nothing to fucking fix.”

“Your PTSD.”

“I don’t fucking have-“

“Ben, I could feel it. It’s dangerous. I could fix it.” You take a deep breath. “I can fix internal injuries as well. I offered to fix Kimiko’s muteness, but she didn’t want me to do it.”

“Then what fucking makes you think-“

“Muteness isn’t dangerous. And it would’ve been harder for me, I might have ended up mute myself. You’re dangerous like this. You can’t fucking control it, and don’t try and lie and say it’s under control. Ashley mentioned putting you back under, and you looked like someone was drowning you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine.” He leers at you. “You don’t fucking know me, know what it was like-“

“I do. You know I do.” You whisper, and the anger on his face breaks. “More than anyone else, I know. I can fix it, but you’ll have to let me. Just-“ You search his eyes, not sure what you’re looking for. “Just think about it. I won’t mention it again, I won’t even touch you, but my offer will stay on the table. Please, just think about it.”

Before you can leave, he grabs your hand. A rush of painful exhaustion runs through you, and there’s anger, but it’s not full of the fervor you’ve come to expect from him. It’s not even at you. It’s wide and almost consuming, leaving room for only a small kernel of something fragile and warm.

“I don’t care if you keep touching me, Sunshine. I've go nothing to hide from you, and that’s not going to change. But there’s nothing in me you need to fucking fix, so don’t fucking bother.”

“I’m not trying to fix you, Ben,” You murmur. "But remember, you burn, I burn. Please don't burn." Your last words are soft, and the kernel pulses.

“Good,” he grunts, releasing your arm. A small smirk crawls onto his face. “Now I don’t care if it’s here or in your room, Sunshine, but you need to go the fuck to bed. You look like shit.”

Just as he says it, the full weight of your fatigue hits you. You give a mumbled acknowledgement of his words, and try to leave the room, but all the adrenaline is gone from your system and nothing is left to stop the failure of your legs or droop of your eyes. The last thing you feel is something pulling you up before your knees hit the carpet, the last thing you see is green eyes on your own, and you hear an amused snort from above you.

“Goodnight, Sunshine. Try not to dream about me.”

You try to object, but sleep pulls you under before you can even remember why you need to.

[bananayuyu]

Cabin Fever [part 3]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut (and some angst this chapter)

Word count: 12.2k

Summary: A confrontation, a fainting spell, a jealous Yunho and a weirdly pissy Hongjoong. The morning gets off to a rough start but somehow the day couldn't have ended more perfectly.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, mentions of Hongjoong's family being homophobic/transphobic, vaginal sex, cream pie, unprotected sex (it's safe, you'll see)

A/n: Part 3 is finally here! The biggest shoutout in the world to @mingtinysworld, my absolute bestie (I love you so much!!<3). I must give her credit for coming up with several of the things that happen in this chapter. Things get a bit more angsty this chapter but I hope not too much. (Also I refer to Wooyoung as both bisexual and a slut in this chapter but want to clarify that I'm not trying to play into that stereotype!! it's just two things that felt fitting for the character in this story. bi people are no more or less likely to be slutty than anyone else). this chapter took longer than I expected to finish because I've finally mapped out what I want to do for the rest of the series! I hope you all enjoy this part! <3

Linked here is my masterlist where you can find the previous parts. Again let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! (it will be six parts in total if everything goes to plan)

Read part 4 here!

Taglist: @certifiedmoa @pautiny27 @luvbit3z @dawn-iscozy @artistic-rendition

@yeosangiess @drinkingrumandcocacola @smally97 @kierraperkins3 @newworldwritings

@peachyy-jooniee @lucid-galaxys-world

You wake like your first morning in the cabin to the bright hot sun, the storm having moved out of the area overnight. You feel too warm laying in your bed with Yunho wrapped around you; you look down and see you both kicked off your blanket at some point in the night. You roll over to wriggle free, your skin feeling sticky with sweat and your hair feeling matted and knotty. You know the reflection you'll be greeted with in the mirror will be quite a mess.

"Morning," Yunho yawns, stretching his arms above his head, his bare abdomen looking so enticing even first thing in the morning.

"I'm so sweaty," you laugh, yawning as well.

"I know, me too," he says, turning his head to the side to get a whiff of his own underarm. "Oh, god," he says, making you giggle. Leaning over to get a whiff yourself, you stick your nose right into the small patch of hair.

"Mmm, so good," you say, a smile on your face. "I need to bottle that scent."

"What would you call it?" Yunho chuckles, pulling you close to him despite the heat.

"Hmm, something like, tall man with large hands." You laugh at how dumb and simple your response is.

"Mm, with notes of sex god and a handsome face," Yunho replies, a cocky grin on his face. You roll your eyes, but truthfully deep down you find it kind of hot when he gets that way.

"No, with notes of gamer nerd and 'never eats vegetables' actually," you say, teasing him. He reaches down to your side to tickle you, making you shriek with laughter, before climbing on top of you and kissing you, deeply. Immediately it's heated, like he's trying to remind you of everything from the night before, his hips bucking into yours slightly and the pressure on your core feeling so enticingly good.

With a ragged breath you break the kiss, your head feeling fuzzy.

"I'm too hot," you say, half-heartedly pushing him off you, not really wanting it to stop.

"Yeah, I know," Yunho says, his tone again cocky, his mouth moving down to your neck and hands grabbing at your ass and thighs. You giggle and sigh into his movements, feeling yourself already getting wet, your body already craving him. But you also feel so out of it and hungry, and you think of everyone else up and about; Seonghwa will probably be worried again if you stay in here too long.

"Yunhooo," you whine, pushing him off with a little more force, and he relents, kissing your nose as he moves off of you.

"I wanna eat you," he says, his face flushed with lust. You squeal and cover your face in embarrassment; no one has ever said something like that to you in your life. Yunho smiles at your reaction, absolutely loving the effect he has on you. Whenever he makes you smile, laugh, moan, it makes his chest feel full, like he's doing exactly what he's meant to do with his life.

Finally the two of you stumble out of bed, and you rake your fingers through your hair, trying your best to smooth it out. Your hairbrush is in the bathroom and you feel like you could really use a shower, so you decide you'll do that first thing this morning, right after getting some food in you. The two of you head out the door together, not thinking much, Yunho's hoodie the only article of clothing you have on. You rub your tired eyes, your body still feeling weak, but your cramps not present like they had been. You feel ready for the day, hopeful that your body will finally feel okay.

As soon as you enter the living room, you notice everyone's eyes on you. You halt in your tracks; everyone is acting strange and you can sense a bit of tension in the room immediately.

"What's going on?" you ask, your voice a bit groggy, your brain still not totally awake. The room is silent for a moment; you feel Yunho's hand on your shoulder grip you ever so slightly.

"I think everyone needs to talk to you both," Seonghwa says, finally breaking the silence. You turn in his direction, confusion clear on your face. It wasn't like last year when Hongjoong and Seonghwa hooked up, everyone confronted them about it. You knew it was probably pretty obvious what was happening, but you didn't think everyone needed an explanation. Not right now, at least. You turned towards Ari, looking at her with concern.

"I don't have anything I need to say," she says to the room, clearly trying to communicate to you that she didn't share anything, nor does she see the need for this. Her eyes almost seem to be pleading with everyone, to drop the subject, or maybe she just looks worried. Whatever it is, her look sets you on edge, and you step away from Yunho without realizing it, your body instinctually trying to isolate itself.

"Can I not get something to eat first? What is going on?" you ask, trying not to panic. Again everyone is silent for a second, and some of their faces look stony; you're worried that there isn't something you're understanding. "Fucking hell, just say it, please," you beg.

"Did you realize how loud you two were being last night?" Hongjoong finally spits out, making your stomach drop.

"Oh, fuck," you groan into your hands, wishing the floor could open up and sallow you whole.

"Woah, woah. Why the hell are you saying this in front of everyone?" Yunho responds to him, not doing a good job of controlling the anger in his tone.

"Because everyone heard you last night, not just me," Hongjoong shoots back, clearly pissed at Yunho's tone.

"Ari just said she has nothing to say about this," Yunho retorts, his eyes narrowing.

"Okay let me clarify then, every one of us who has to sleep out here on these couches, while the two of you get a private space all to yourselves, we all heard you guys last night." Hongjoong's volume is rising, and you don't know why he's so pissed. But you feel mortified, so shocked this conversation is even happening. "I know it is possible to hook up in this cabin without making everyone hear it," he says.

You've physically turned yourself away from the room, wanting to inch your way into the kitchen but feeling stuck to the floor.

"This is so ridiculous, why are you acting like you've never heard people having sex before? It couldn't have been that fucking loud," Yunho sighs loudly, shocked himself that any one of your friends would even care. You all were very, very comfortable around each other. He knew Hongjoong was one of the more modest of the bunch, but still. He was fucking Seonghwa out in the middle of the forest last night, for god's sake.

"It was, pretty loud," Mingi sighs, his voice much calmer and quieter than Hongjoong's but still laced with tension, as if he's trying to bring the conversation back to normal. "Like someone was watching porn on their phone at full volume, or something." He laughs, obviously trying to lighten the mood, but it doesn't work.

"Oh god, please, stop," you finally find words, running to the kitchen. Ari jumps up and runs after you, wrapping her arms around you as you bury your head into your hands even further.

"Don't say shit like that right now, it's not funny," Yunho says, his face flushed with anger.

"Sorry I was just trying to- I don't know why this got so weird," Mingi replies, stumbling over his words. "I just thought you guys would want to know how audible it was."

"Listen, I'm fucking sorry. I obviously didn't realize, I obviously wasn't wanting you all to hear," you say from the kitchen, shaking with how embarrassed you feel. Ari rubs your back, trying to comfort you.

"Look at how awful you've made her feel. Do you guys feel good about that?" Yunho spits out, his words fiery. Something in you shatters at how protective he's being, and you suddenly gag with nausea, running over to the sink.

"Yunho, no one is trying to hurt her feelings," Seonghwa replies, trying in desperation to keep the conversation from spiraling into a full blown fight.

"What are you trying to do then?" Yunho asks, eyes scanning around the room to catch a glimpse of everyone's faces.

"I think what everyone was trying to say, though they didn't do a very good job I will admit, was that you two being so loud last night made them a bit uncomfortable and made it hard to sleep. And-"

"It made me horny, that's why I couldn't sleep," Wooyoung cuts him off.

"For fucks sake Woo, not now," Seonghwa replies, still managing to keep his tone light. "I think everyone really just wanted to ask you two if you could keep it down going forward. That's all," he finishes, shooting a look in Hongjoong's direction that seemed to say a million things.

"And that couldn't have been said to me privately, by like, one person?" you ask from the kitchen, trying to keep your body from releasing all of yesterday's food.

"I'm sorry honey, everyone was talking about it this morning and I thought it would be better for it just to be out in the open," Seonghwa says to you, like he's taking responsibility for it.

"Everyone was talking about it, how great," you reply, your tone laced with sarcasm.

"You all are being so fucking immature," Yunho continues, his anger still evident.

"Yunho, it's not like we were all giggling about it like twelve years olds or something. But you guys were having loud sex, you really expect that none of us would to mention it to each other this morning?" Wooyoung replies. "My cousins are here, and they don't really know you guys like we do, you know?"

"I get that Woo, and I'm sorry Jongho and Yeosang if it made you guys uncomfortable," he says, looking sincerely in their direction. "But again, why did you all have to confront us like this first thing in the morning?! When you know how awful she's been feeling! This whole conversation did not have to happen this way at all!" He is almost yelling, more worked up than you've seen him in a long time. You feel thankful he's standing up for you, as it seems he's the only man in the room who understands how mortified you feel. But his raised voice and tone are starting to set everyone on edge, you can feel it, and you really, really don't want this conversation to get even worse.

"I'm going to bathroom," you mutter, quickly walking yourself over and closing the door tightly behind you. In the mirror over the sink you finally get a good look at yourself, your messy appearance matching exactly how you feel on the inside. You hair is as knotty as you thought it would be, and you start trying to brush it out, wincing every time you tug a little too hard. You feel yourself start to heave again, so you lean down over the toilet in case anything comes up. The smallest amount of puke leaves your lips and you grimace at the bitter taste, quickly shuffling over to the sink to rinse out your mouth. Sat on your knees on the floor you breath deeply, the nausea having passed now that you're in a room by yourself, blocking out the argument happening outside. You're just starting to think you're feeling better, about to stand up, when everything goes black.

For a brief moment you feel yourself crumple to the floor, the tile cold against your uncovered legs. But then you're fully gone, not hearing or knowing anything.

"Y/n, can you hear me? Are you here?"

You wake to Yunho crouched over you, a hand on your wrist checking your pulse. Your eyes barely open, the light of the room making your head hurt. You try to say something to him but you can't; only a pathetic whimper leaves your lips as you try to wake yourself.

"I'm here," he says, stroking a hand through your hair and rubbing the back of your head where it meets your neck. You've told him many times that it feels good to be rubbed there, especially when you've just fainted, so now he makes sure he does it every time. He sits with you in silence, just like you've asked him to, waiting for your body to fully regain consciousness. It takes a little while but finally you move, opening your eyes more to meet his, curling up your body in his direction.

"How'd it happen?" he asks.

"I like, puked, and then I felt better, but then I ended up here, I don't know," you say, trying to remember everything that had happened before your memory cut out.

"So you were standing?" he asks, very concerned.

"No I was like, on my knees cause of leaning over the toilet to puke. I just closed my eyes to breathe for a second and then I collapsed."

"Did you hit your head?"

"I don't think so," you respond, looking up at him with teary eyes. He looks down and assesses your pupils, pretty sure they look normal in the light of the bathroom. He runs a hand through your hair, trying to keep his breathing normal. But his heart is racing out of control, his panic not subsiding. Not when he found you collapsed in a heap on the floor, minutes after he finished arguing with everyone else. A piercing anger runs through his chest, anger at how everyone acted this morning. It must have made you unbelievably stressed, being called out like that and humiliated in front of everyone. It's probably the reason you're here on the floor now, why your body just gave out on you. His breathing is ragged as he stares at you, as much as he tries to appear calm for your sake. It just can't happen right now, not after everything that happened this morning.

"Yunho, I'll be fine," you say, putting a hand on his thigh.

"I know," he responds, his throat tense, his eyes looking panicked.

"You're scaring me," you tell him, tears forming in your eyes.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. With everything that just happened I was so caught off guard finding you here. I'm so worried about you," he says, tears forming in his eyes as well.

"It'll be okay, I just need to rest," you say, repeating something you've said probably thousands of times in your life, to people around you when you're sick. How common it was for other people to be even more panicked than you, when you were the one actually experiencing the issue. Yunho can read the frustration in your tone easily, and it feels like a stab in his chest knowing that he isn't helping you how he knows he should.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he says, collecting himself and stroking the back of your head again, hoping it's comforting. "Do you want me to carry you to your bed?" he asks.

"Can you please go get Hwa," you ask, not able to hide your frustration with him.

"Of course," he says, sounding almost defeated, and even though you asked for it, it hurts when he moves away from you to go get your other friend. In the few moments that you're alone again you start crying, tears streaming down onto the floor, your body finally starting to release some of it's tension.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry I didn't realize you had passed out," Seonghwa says as soon as he enters, leaning down to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

"It's okay," you squeak, still crying.

"Why don't I get you to a couch so you can rest more comfortably?" he asks, stroking a hand through your hair. "I can brush out your hair too, if you want."

"It's so bad," you say, groaning.

"Not at all," he says, positioning you to hoist you up, finally standing and walking carefully so he doesn't hit any part of you on the doorframe.

As soon as you exit the bathroom you can hear the arguing, and it makes you grab your ears, wishing you could silence everyone.

"You realize that wouldn't have happened if you didn't talk to her like assholes this morning, right?!" you hear Yunho say, again on the verge of yelling.

"How was I supposed to know she was going to faint!?" Hongjoong retorts, sounding exasperated. "I obviously didn't want that to happen Yunho, Jesus Christ!"

"Dude, you know how fragile her body is! And that she's been feeling terribly the past few days; you probably could have predicted this would be the outcome, honestly," Yunho says, refusing to back down.

"Yunho that's a crazy thing to say," Mingi interjects, sounding almost scared to speak up. "Obviously none of us wanted to cause her to faint."

"Frankly, the way things sounded last night it seemed like she was feeling better," Hongjoong interjects, still on edge.

"Stop mentioning it, it's been talked about enough," Yunho snaps, his voice lower but his anger still obviously at a boiling point. The look he shoots Hongjoong is stern, scarier than he realizes.

"You're the one who came in here yelling," Hongjoong responds, arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm not yelling. I'm pissed at you all because you made her faint," Yunho says, voice still low.

"Will you all please get off of this couch so I can set y/n down?" Seonghwa cuts them off, taking in a slow deep breath. He sets you down gently, placing several pillows behind your back and head to prop you up, grabbing his glass of water from the morning and making you drink some. When Yunho sees the absolute state you are in his anger spikes again; he's seen you like this quite a few times, but never under these circumstances. You'd always been home, close to the local hospital, in your predictable environment. Here it was different, especially with so many people around. He feels utterly out of his depth, but something in him still needs to care for you.

Sitting down next to you he grabs your hand, brushing his thumb along your palm in small circular motions. He wants to apologize a thousand times over, wants to scream at everyone else, especially Hongjoong, and wants to ask how you're feeling. But he doesn't know if any of that is the right thing to do. He suddenly feels a pang of jealousy, at seeing the way Seonghwa methodically takes care of you, seeming to know exactly what to say and what to do, in every moment.

"Yunho, you're freaking her out," Seonghwa says, moving over to help you drink more water. He takes your hand out of Yunho's, helping you grip the glass, making sure you don't spill on yourself. "If you can't keep calm right now then you need to leave the room."

"How- how am I supposed to keep calm right now?" Yunho asks, his voice shaking.

"I don't know, do whatever helps you. You know, for some people breathing calmly helps, others visualize certain things, others need to cry for a bit, maybe go for a quick run. Whatever works for you," Seonghwa says, feeling frustrated with Yunho but not letting it show.

"I don't want to leave her," Yunho says.

"She'll be perfectly fine in my care, don't you think?" Seonghwa responds, trying not to sound patronizing. Trying really to get Yunho to realize himself that he should take a step back, and give you space. He can tell it's not doing you any good, the way Yunho is acting. Even if it's coming from a good place.

"I don't want all of them near her," Yunho says, gesturing his head in the direction of the other boys.

"It's not like they're going to hurt her Yunho," Seonghwa replies, still helping you sip at your water. Yunho looks at Seonghwa, wanting to believe him. Logically he knows it's true, but he really does worry that something one of them says could make you faint again.

"God I'm so fucking pissed," Yunho sighs out, putting his head in his hands.

"Yunho, stop," you say, your voice almost a whisper as you try not to start crying again.

"Ok, that's it, you need to get out of here," Seonghwa finally says to Yunho, placing his hand on his knee to get his full attention. Yunho shoots him a hurt look, feeling a bit caught off guard. Seonghwa's never told him something like this before, when you were sick. Usually he appreciated having another person there to help. He slowly stands up, walking towards the kitchen to get away.

"Dude, lighten up," Mingi says, slapping Yunho gently on the back in a gesture of attempted kindness. But it doesn't go over how he's hoping.

"Dude, shut the fuck up," Yunho says, making you cringe into yourself. It really does feel like he's coming apart at the seams, and it makes you feel so panicked.

"Alright, fuck, everyone listen to me," Seonghwa says, standing up to face the room. "Look I really don't like having to do this, having to treat you all like you're fucking children, but clearly all of you don't understand how to emotionally take care of yourselves, and your dramatics are making our very sick friend feel even worse. So here's what we're going to do. All of you boys are going to go outside, and finish that game of basketball we started yesterday. With the exception of Wooyoung, because I need you and Ari to stay in and assist me. The rest of you please, go outside and work out your fucking differences on that court, and come back inside in much better spirits and aware of your fucking impact on other people. Okay?" He finishes talking with an expectant look, and everyone knows he won't take no for an answer. Soon they're all shuffling outside, and once they're all gone and the back door is shut, you immediately feel a bit better. The energy of the room is immediately lighter, and you take a big sigh of relief, readjusting yourself to get comfortable.

"Thank you Hwa," you say, finishing the glass of water in your hands.

"Of course. I'm sorry they were all acting like that, I hope I didn't stress you out too," he responds, his voice so gentle again.

"I don't even think that's why I fainted, I know Yunho kept saying that but it's probably just cause my period was so bad. I feel like that's a more logical explanation," you say, the quieter room allowing your brain to finally work a bit more.

"I know, I agree. I've never seen him so scared," Seonghwa says, rubbing his hand along your arm.

"Me too, it was freaking me out," you say, turning to look him in the eye. "Just so you know, we aren't like dating or something. This whole, thing, between me and Yunho, it just started on this trip. And I don't even know what it is. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to talk to you about it yesterday." It feels good to finally get the words out.

"You don't have to apologize. I was pretty sure nothing had happened before, cause I know you would've told me. Believe me, I know the affects this cabin can have on people," he chuckles, making you smile. "By the way, I'm sorry for how Hongjoong was talking to you earlier, genuinely. I don't think it's wrong for him to feel uncomfortable, if that's really what the issue was, but he was being kind of an asshole." Seonghwa looks crestfallen, like he's embarrassed to be apologizing on behalf of Hongjoong.

"You don't have to apologize for him, Hwa. Just because you two are kind of, involved or whatever, doesn't mean you need to do that." Seonghwa nods his head at your words, but his face doesn't change, and it looks like he's lost in thought. "What's going on, why does your face look like that?" you ask.

"Just, I don't know why he was being like that with you two, everyone was talking about it in a funny way this morning. I guess he was being weird all morning, even before you guys came out here. I'll tell you in a minute, just, hold on." He turns his attention to the other two sitting on the couch across, giving you space. "Wooyoung can you please make some quick soup for y/n, something salty with meat and vegetables. And also some chamomile tea please, with a teaspoon of honey?"

"Of course, coming right up," Wooyoung says, climbing off the couch. "Y/n I'm sorry about this morning, I thought it would be just a little joke. I didn't realize it would get so, serious," he says as he crosses the room.

"Thank you, Woo. I'm sorry if your cousins felt weird," you reply, them truly being the people you worried you'd crossed a line with. The rest of you had heard the odd sound or two and talked about sex at length over the years you'd known each other, but those two didn't know you at all.

"Oh, I don't really think they cared, we were all laughing about it last night. I just, I was a little surprised Yunho was so pissed that we were talking about it. I hope- I hope you know we weren't being weird or gross," he replies.

"I know, it is just a bit mortifying though, you have to understand," you say.

"I know, I'm sorry. We will forget it even happened, we'll have a fun day," Woo says, starting to work on your tea, raising his voice so he can be heard from the kitchen. "What do you want to do, after you eat?" he asks.

"Y/n, you wanna put makeup on them? We haven't done that in forever," Ari pipes up from the other couch, her voice also gentle like Seonghwa's.

"Ooh, that actually sounds so fun. If you both are down?" you ask Seonghwa and Wooyoung, giving Seonghwa your best puppy-dog eyes.

"How could I say no," Seonghwa replies, smiling.

"That sounds fun!" Wooyoung replies from the kitchen, busily readying your tea and prepping for cooking.

"That'll be good," you say, breathing in the relief of their good, calm company. "Thank you guys for being, like, normal this morning."

***

After you drink your tea and eat your breakfast, you start to feel a little better. You're clearly still in a weak state, needing to stay sat on the couch, but you have the energy to talk with everyone. Ari had gone and grabbed her large makeup bag from her room, setting out everything methodically on the large coffee table. Everything is organized by product type, and you both begin looking over everything, deciding what you'll be doing.

"Woo, can I put eyeliner on you?" Ari asks.

"Sure, do whatever," Wooyoung responds, honestly just loving the attention. He's always loved when you two would do his makeup, just for the simple fact that he got to spend so much time having someone else fret over him.

"I'm gonna make you look so cool," Ari says, grabbing the shade of foundation she was going to use, and the eyeliner and black eye shadow.

"Okay well if you're doing that, I'm gonna make Hwa like, super feminine, pretty, pink," you say, grabbing your favorite highlighter and the shade of pink lip gloss you think will look perfect on him. "Wait, can I do your hair too?" you ask Hwa.

"What are you going to do?" he asks you. You know he's very protective of his hair, especially since he's been growing it out so long this past year.

"I just want to put it in pigtails or something, not use any heat on it," you say.

"Okay, that's fine," he says, positioning himself in front of you so you can start applying the makeup.

As you both begin the room falls into a comfortable quietness, with only a few words being exchanged here or there. Mostly it's just you and Ari asking each other how a certain thing looks, or asking each other for advice. Having something to focus on that is purely fun, purely creative helps get your mind off your terrible morning, and soon you feel yourself really start to feel better. A little while later one of the boys pokes their head in asking about lunch, but Seonghwa makes them stay outside, asking Wooyoung to whip together something quick and just bring it out to them. He wants to prolong this gentle calm atmosphere for as long as he can, so that you can truly rest up and feel better. And he himself feels relieved from not having to be in the same room as Hongjoong.

"Wait, you were going to tell me something about Hongjoong," you say to him as you gently apply his highlight.

"Oh, yeah, that," Seonghwa sighs.

"What is it?" you ask, looking at him with concern.

"He's just been really distant and cold, all morning. And yesterday things were like, so good, we were having all these conversations, we talked about some very personal things. Each night he's been cuddling me to sleep, like specifically asking me to come cuddle with him. I didn't expect that sort of thing when we came here, but he's been so touchy and so sweet, and then suddenly this morning he was like avoiding me, not sitting next to me, not talking to me. And he was being so weird talking with Yunho this morning too, both of them were in such weird moods. I don't know what to think. I shouldn't like someone who is hot and cold with me, I know I shouldn't. But something, yesterday, there was something that happened that felt almost perfect and I can't get it out of my head."

"I don't like that he was being like that with you this morning," you sigh. "I don't get why he gets that way sometimes."

"It's cause of his family, right?" Ari asks, carefully starting to apply Wooyoung's eyeliner.

"I know they're insane and homophobic, but he's twenty-seven. Maybe I'm being unfair, but he's been independent from them for nearly a decade. And they don't even live in the same city as us anymore. I just feel upset that he hasn't worked on changing more. That was how he was in high school. And he knows all of us, especially Seonghwa, are going to love and respect him always. I know his defense mechanism with his family is to shut himself off from them, but why does he have to be that way with us still?" you say.

"He's clearly all messed up about something," Seonghwa replies, sighing. "I actually thought he'd changed a lot. You know last year after our trip, I was worried he'd be really awkward and avoid the subject with me, but when we spoke about what had happened between us he was very direct and open. He seemed like he was able to really talk about his feelings. So I thought he had finally changed."

"I'm sorry, my inability to keep things quiet last night might have contributed. I truly feel bad, I did not realize," you say.

"Your moans did not put him in a bad mood," Seonghwa laughed, grabbing your cheek reassuringly. "He was fine last night. It was a this morning thing. Who knows."

You nod, not really wanting to talk about it anymore. And it seems Seonghwa doesn't either, nor do the other two, because the subject is dropped. You finally put on the pink lip gloss, the final touch to your beautiful masterpiece. Seonghwa's full lips shine beautifully, his entire face perfection.

"You've got to do more makeup campaigns," you say, staring in awe.

"I know, that first one I did all those years ago was so fun," he says, reminiscing.

"Can I do your hair now?" you ask, giddy. Seonghwa turns himself around, grabbing two small hair ties off the table for you to use. Once you've placed the two hair ties just as you want them you turn him around, taking a look at the adorable pigtails.

"God, you look so good with your hair like that. You are like, the most androgynous person I've ever seen," you say, knowing it's a compliment he loves.

"Do I look pretty?" he asks, twirling for you.

"The prettiest," you say, smiling. Suddenly, an idea pops into your head. "Hwa, you should put on the sun dress I brought with me."

"You think it'll fit?" he asks.

"Oh yeah, it's like stretchy in the back. I think you've worn it before, it's that yellow one, with the pink flowers," you say. "It's in the bottom of my suitcase, if you want to go grab it."

Seonghwa never turns down an opportunity to wear your dresses or skirts, always having loved how he felt in them. As he goes to find your dress in the library you turn to Wooyoung and Ari, who are almost done themselves. Ari is putting the finishing touches on the smoky shadow that accompanies heavy eyeliner, the obvious star of the show.

"This is some of your best work," you say, amazed. A part of you is almost pissed that these two boys look way better in makeup than you do. But more than anything you feel lucky to have people so willing to let the two of you experiment.

"Do I look sexy?" Wooyoung asks, fluttering his eyes at the both of you. It's basically all he ever wants to be called, so you both giggle.

"Of course you do," Ari says, laughing at him.

Just then Seonghwa reenters the room, your dress the only piece of clothing he's now wearing.

"Stop, you look so freaking cute," you say, staring at him in awe.

"Hwa, you should start wearing your hair like that all the time. It looks so good," Ari adds.

"Woo, what do you think?" Seonghwa says, looking at him expectantly.

"Um well, sorry, but you look extremely fuckable," he says, making you all burst into laughter. "You look really pretty," he says, his cheeks looking a little pink even under his makeup.

"Oh, so you're horny again," Ari says, to more laughter.

"I can't help it, it feels like everyone in this damn cabin is fucking except for me," Wooyoung responds.

"You know, there are ways of relieving those pent up feelings yourself," you say, motioning to your hand.

"It's not the same," he grumbles, making you all giggle again.

"Woo it's barely been four days on this cabin trip, are you already that desperate to have sex with someone?" Seonghwa asks, coming to sit down next to you again.

"Oh god don't chastise him, it'll probably turn him on more," Ari says, smirking at Wooyoung. He visibly squirms in front of her, not able to sit still anymore with the current topic of conversation.

"Every friend group needs a bisexual, bratty slut I guess," Seonghwa says, and the room is erupting in laughter again, even from Wooyoung.

"I don't think I'm the only slut in this group," Wooyoung says, shooting you a look.

"Ok woah, I might be very sex positive but I am not a slut, Woo. I've slept with maybe one percent of the number of people you have," you respond, looking at him with mock exasperation.

"But y/n, being slutty is really just a state of mind, it's not about the actual number of people you've slept with. And it seems like a certain someone has turned you into one recently," he says, making your mouth fall open. "I'm not trying to be mean, I swear," he says in reaction to your face. "I'm just glad you two are finally fucking," he says with his full chest, making Seonghwa and Ari laugh hard.

"Ok, so, you're saying you've been wanting this to happen?" you say, laughing and holding out your hands in confusion.

"Well, that man certainly has wanted it to, and I thought maybe you did too, but I was starting to wonder if I was wrong. I was always fascinated, it was like my own little experiment, watching to see just how long two people who obviously found each other attractive would hold out. I was especially shocked that it didn't happen when you moved into together," he says, eyeing you with adoration more than anything, which helps you not feel so exposed by his words. "I know not everyone is as much of a horn dog as I am, but it's not like either of you are asexual, either. I knew it would happen someday," he finishes.

"How did like, everyone else know this was gonna happen before I did?" you ask, remembering Ari's insistence yesterday that he was in love with you, and also remembering Mingi's look in the hot spring your first night. Fuck, he knew too, you thought. Did everyone else know?

"You wouldn't be you if this had happened any other way," Seonghwa says, grabbing your hand.

"I know, I'm kind of oblivious," you say, turning towards him with a downturned smile.

"Only to how magnetic you are to certain people. You've never been able to tell when someone likes you," he says, squeezing your hand slightly. It makes you laugh because it's true, very true.

"My mind is usually elsewhere," you say, making him chuckle.

"I know," he says, and he truly means it. He knows all of the places your mind usually is, good and bad.

"What time is it?" you ask, feeling your stomach rumble.

"Should we let everyone back in?" Seonghwa asks.

"Yeah, I think they should be okay by now. And I'm hungry, I wanna have some dinner," you say. "I feel a lot better, thank you guys," you say giving them each a quick hug before settling yourself back down on the couch. "I think my period is basically over."

"Already? It's been like two days, right?" Ari asks.

"Yeah, sometimes if they're that heavy it's all over that quickly," you say.

"I'm glad it's over," Hwa says, before handing you another glass of water he'd just filled. You sip at it, watching as he walks to the back door to open it, his long lean legs looking gorgeous under your dress. "You all can come back in now, if you want," you hear him say.

As the boys slowly make their way back inside you see they're all sweaty, the sun hot and the air humid from the previous day's weather. Most of them do a bit of a double take at Seonghwa's appearance, and at Wooyoung's too.

"Looks like you all had fun in here," Yeosang says, smiling at Wooyoung.

"How was the game?" Woo asks him.

"It was good, felt good to run so hard. We won," he says, with a proud smile.

"Well you had Yunho and Mingi on your team, so it wasn't exactly fair," Woo responds, making Yeosang laugh.

The two tallest men are the last to reenter, their faces glistening in sweat, Yunho's eyes still looking the slightest bit sullen. A small part of your heart twinges, but you try to ignore it. You want this moment to be a fresh start from the morning, to help everyone back to the fun energy of the previous few days.

"Everyone, look, doesn't Seonghwa look so pretty?" you say, hoping everyone comes with you as you glide towards lighter subjects. "Here, come here, let me touch up your lip gloss Hwa."

He comes down and sits in front of you, and you gently brush the applicator over his lips, his face completely still just as you need it. From the kitchen Yunho watches, your hands on his face, your lips on his temple when you give him a small kiss. He does feel better after playing so hard, but instead of anger he now feels what must be envy; it feels like it's snaking up his back to his neck, threatening to choke him. He will never be Seonghwa, never be what Seonghwa is to you. It's a soul crushing realization.

"Ok, there," you say after giving Seonghwa a quick peck on the temple, careful not to mess up the makeup you spent hours on. "Give everyone a little walk," you say.

"Is that your dress?" Mingi asks him as he watches him walk, everyone cooing out their praises.

"No, it's y/n's," Seonghwa responds.

"Oh wow, it fits so well. It looks so good on you," Mingi says, matter of factly.

You gaze around the room, watching Seonghwa's face light up at everyone's praise, when suddenly your eyes land on Hongjoong. Stood in the corner of the room, nursing occasionally at his water bottle, he's unable to take his eyes off of Seonghwa, and it almost looks like he isn't blinking. His face is possibly the softest you've ever seen it, his eyes looking big and gentle and his eyebrows turned up every so slightly in the middle. He doesn't move a muscle but you can see his chest rising and falling, his body seeming almost unaware of anything. Except for the man standing in front of him in a pretty yellow dress.

Suddenly you're snapped back, to Seonghwa's first ever major photo shoot, the one you and most of your friends accompanied him to, to help him feel confident during such a big step in his career. He was only twenty-one then, only about a year into his modeling career. Thinking back now you all were babies, just getting your starts in the world, nowhere even close to finding your feet and knowing who you were. It was such a high profile magazine, and you couldn't have been more excited and hopeful for your friend, unbelievably honored that he asked you to come with him. Everyone had cleared their schedules to be there.

It was the first time you'd seen just how great Seonghwa looked in a dress, all dolled up. As much as he liked feminine clothes, he rarely wore them himself because he feared judgement. But this space was different; every model for that campaign was androgynous. You had never been in a room with so many people who didn't fit into the gender norms. You all waited patiently as Hwa went to change into his outfit for his photo shoot; the room was giant and full of little changing rooms, and you all lost him in the sea of people and chairs, clothes and makeup. Until he finally emerged.

That was the only other time you'd seen Hongjoong look like this. His eyes went so wide you thought they might pop out. He was frozen, truly frozen then, not a single thing in his hand for him to fiddle with. Then, like now, it seemed like he became utterly unaware of anything else in the room, except Seonghwa. He stood like that for a while, you don't remember how long exactly, but then abruptly excused himself.

This time you think it's about a full minute, a full sixty seconds of him staring, not moving an inch. And you can't stop staring too, at his face, trying to read what it all means. When he finally breaks his eyes away from Seonghwa he catches your gaze, and without a word makes for the door, walking himself back outside. You instantly stand up too, needing answers. As you exit the house you brush past Yunho, your eyes lingering for a moment on the way his shirt is stuck to his chest. You hear Ari telling Wooyoung to walk for everyone too, and when the boys complain that they're hungry you hear Woo tell them to make their own food for once. You head is full, so full of every possible feeling, as you break out into the hot air of the late afternoon. You spot Hongjoong sitting on a log in the distance, and march your way over.

"Can I talk to you?" you ask, not bothering to ask if you can sit.

"Hey, listen, I'm sorry about this morning," Hongjoong responds, looking caught out and overwhelmed.

"You don't seem like yourself today," you say, your voice almost stern. Normally you all let each other be, and normally you feel that's the best thing to do. But after the events of the morning, and your conversation with Seonghwa, you don't feel that way right now.

"Well, I don't feel like myself. I guess I haven't done a good job of hiding it," he says, sighing tensely.

"What's up?" you ask, eyeing him with your arms crossed. He sighs, turning his face away from you, staring off into the trees. He starts shaking his head, not making a sound.

"Joong, I'm sorry, but after the way you were acting towards me and Yunho this morning I'm really not in the mood to be nice. I know you might not want to talk to me about your feelings but I need to know why you were being so weird with us, and with Seonghwa. We deserve to know," you say.

"What does Seonghwa have to do with it?" he asks, still not looking at you, fidgeting nervously with his hands.

"Ok, honestly, just forget me and Yunho, I don't even really care at this point. I know you were being cold with Seonghwa all day, why?" you ask.

"Y/n, I..." Hongjoong trails off, taking in a sharp breath, not continuing. You give him a few moments to continue his thought but he just sits there, making you antsy.

"Okay if you're not going to talk, then I'm gonna make a guess at what's going on, and you can tell me if I'm right or if I'm wrong. You love him, don't you? But you don't want to get involved with him in any real way because you're scared? Or you can't for some other reason? But when you're here you basically treat him like he's your boyfriend, cuddling him to sleep at night, sneaking him outside to fuck the daylights out of him while everyone else is in watching a movie. But it's not just a sex thing, you love him. You see him all dolled up and think he's the most precious thing you've ever seen in your life. Am I right?"

Hongjoong looks up at you finally, looking like he's scared, like he wishes he could run away. But he knows you won't let the subject drop, and maybe deep down, he's wanted to talk to someone about this.

"You have to understand, my family..." he starts, visibly shaking.

"What about them, Joong? What do they have to do with Seonghwa?" you ask gently, hoping to finally coax something out of him. With a huge breath, he finally starts talking.

"Do you remember that first big makeup campaign Hwa was a part of? For that gender neutral makeup line? Maybe a month later, I remember walking with my parents to that corner store by their old house, and there Seonghwa was on the cover of a magazine. My dad started going on and on about how gross it was, men making themselves look feminine, how they all were demeaning themselves and just wanted to be girls and how mentally ill they must be. He was saying it was gross that 'that kind of mental illness is now being treated like it's normal.' He kept going on and on and on, the whole time we shopped. He didn't even realize that one of the people on the cover was my good friend from high school that he'd met multiple times. He didn't even recognize it was Seonghwa." Hongjoong stutters out the words, clearly on the verge of breaking down.

"Oh my god Joong, that's awful," you respond, so saddened that he'd never felt able to tell you this story until now.

"I love you guys, but none of the rest of you understand what it's like to have parents like that. I've spent my whole life wishing I could stop these feelings. It would even be easier if I was attracted to masculine men; I think my parents could get past that a bit more easily. It's the gender stuff they're really freaked out by, more than people being gay. But I can't help that I like guys who are pretty. I- I obviously love him, dude, god I know it's fucking obvious. I can't control myself around him. It's fucking embarrassing. And it scares me, because I'm scared one day someone who knows my family is gonna see me reacting that way to another man and go tell my parents." By this point he's shaking hard, a few tears rolling down his cheeks as he clearly tries desperately to control himself. You scoot yourself over so you're right next to him, hugging him into a warm embrace.

"Let yourself cry, your body probably needs it," you say, holding him tight. You feel his heart race, his body so tense as he clings onto you. You just let him cry for a few minutes, not needing to respond right away. Once he's calmed down a bit you both sit up, but you stay close to him.

"I'm so, so sorry your family is that way, I can't even begin to pretend I know what it's like," you start, speaking gently. "Only you know what is best when it comes to navigating your relationships with them. I'm not going to tell you what to do. But if your choice is that you can't date Seonghwa, no matter your feelings, you need to tell him that. And explain it. If you want to hook up with him sometimes, but not date, you need to tell him that. If you want to date him but keep it entirely secret from your family, you need to tell him that. Obviously he might not like some or any of those ideas, but still you need to tell him. Right now he's just confused, and has no idea how you feel. And he's not the one who has been so awful to you, so he doesn't deserve to be kept in the dark."

"I know," Hongjoong replies, hoarsely. "I'm just, not ready for him to hate me."

"He's not going to hate you, Hongjoong," you say.

"Really? If I tell him, hey, I think you're amazing and I love you and want to be with you but can we keep it a secret from like, most people? Just in case my insane family finds out because I'm scared of them even though I'm twenty-seven years old. How awful would that make him feel?" he asks.

"Joong, if you put it like that with no explanation, yeah he'd probably not feel great. But if you told him what you just told me, I think it would be different. Keeping him in the dark is what's really not okay, and I think you being hot and cold with him is really what might make him hate you," you respond.

You both sigh deeply, looking out across the wilderness. You see a squirrel running across the start of a small trail up ahead, grabbing a nut and darting back again. You wish for a moment that was you. A butterfly flutters low in front of you, briefly landing on the ground and turning around, before flying off again. You feel heavy with emotional exhaustion and wish badly you could fly off, if only just for a moment. Just to have a chance to forget everything that had happened today, to feel free of any burden. You sigh with the knowledge that you know it's not possible, that you'll just have to feel it.

"Dinner is ready, if you want food!" Ari calls from the back door, waving at you.

"We'll be there in a minute," you call back.

***

Dinner brings the refreshed energy you were hoping for, Jongho and Yeosang having cooked up a meal everyone loved. As you all eat and chat there's plenty of laughter, still plenty of compliments for Seonghwa and Wooyoung's makeup. You sit between Seonghwa and Yunho, your favorite spot to be, feeling a lot better seeing everyone around you back to their light-hearted conversation. You see Hongjoong on the other side of Seonghwa, offering him food and bringing him refills of his drink when he needs it. It takes you a while to realize it amongst all the chattering, but the only person who is still being silent is Yunho.

Even when you gently place your head on his shoulder after Ari makes you laugh, he basically shrugs you off. You look up at him confused, because he never really does that. You've always been able to hug him or lean on him whenever you felt like it. You see he doesn't look angry anymore, just very distant. Under the table you run your hand along his leg, trying to be comforting. He lets you for a moment but then grabs your hand, gently moving it back to your lap. As soon as he finishes his food he's off, making his way to the library. Soon you excuse yourself too; your body is pulled to him and you can't stop your feet pattering along the floor, walking you fast to go find him.

You find him standing against the wall, his gaze stuck intently on his phone. You grab it from him, gently placing it on the couch. Grabbing his arms and placing them around you, you pull yourself into his body.

"Stop being weird, hug me back," you say, nuzzling into his chest. Finally he relents, pulling you close, his body tense with something you've never felt in him before.

"What's wrong?" you ask, your voice slightly muffled by his chest.

"I'm- I'm sorry I'm not Seonghwa," he answers.

"What does that mean?" you ask as you turn your head up towards him. He is staring out the window over your head, his look very distant.

"I'm sorry I make you feel worse, not better, when you're sick," he says.

"That was just today, Yunho. Usually you do make me feel better," you say.

"But that's the thing, he knows exactly what to do, even when we're out here away from the hospital. How does he just know? I could never be as prepared as him," he sighs.

"Well, he knew he needed to get me hydrated, which is basically just what they do at the hospital with an IV. So he kept feeding me water, had Wooyoung make me soup. Just got a lot of fluids in me. He knows that stuff because we've talked about it, a lot. I can teach you all of those things too, if you want me to. It's not complicated," you reply.

Yunho takes in what you say but can't find words to respond, instead letting out a quiet groan as he closes his eyes, almost collapsing into you.

"What is it?" you ask, stroking your hand through his hair, his head resting on your shoulder.

"You just, have so much more fun with him than me, don't you?" he asks.

"No, I have fun with you both. Why are you thinking that?" you ask.

"Well just, today, with him, when I came in and you were like, putting makeup on him, hugging and kissing him, you looked happier than I've seen you in a while," he says.

"You make it sound like I was making out with him in front of everyone," you laugh, squeezing him tighter. "Of course Seonghwa makes me happy, he's like basically my best friend. And he takes care of me always, and I take care of him. Of course I was having fun. That doesn't mean I like him better than you," you finish. All you get is a grunt in response, as Yunho picks his head off your shoulder, standing straight again. "Do you wish I'd put makeup on you instead?" you ask, giggling, completely joking.

But then Yunho's face sort of freezes, except for his eyes which look down to yours, and then dart to the floor.

"Wait, really? You want me to put makeup on you?" you ask, genuinely surprised. He had never in his life shown interest in makeup, as far as you knew.

"It looked like it would feel nice," he says, looking slightly embarrassed, his voice quiet.

"This is so exciting," you smile, staring up at him with giddiness. "Can I do it now?" you ask.

"Uh, sure," he responds, taken aback a bit. You let out a squeal of happiness.

"Okay, sit right here on my bed, against the pillows. I'll be right back," you say, marching your way out of the room to find Ari. She is still sat in the living room, taking pictures of Wooyoung's makeup. She immediately goes and grabs her makeup bag at your request, helping you pick out the few things you need. You hug her in thanks, running quickly back to your room. The anticipation is killing you; you just want to see Yunho's beautiful face lit up with a smile again. You haven't seen one all day.

You situate yourself on his lap, your legs straddling his, your hips coming in close contact. You know it's not really necessary, but you're looking for any excuse to be touching him after you hadn't had the chance to all day. You set out the products Ari lent you on a shelf behind his head, slowly deciding what exactly you want to do. He's given you permission to do whatever you please, so you let your mind wander, thinking of what would look best on his high cheeks, his perfect lips. You decide to forgo any face makeup, his skin already perfect as is. As you begin applying some eyeshadow he closes his eyes, his head resting gently on the bookshelf behind him. With his eyes closed you finally feel able to say it, feel able to ask the question that had been dancing in the back of your mind all day, only surfacing now that you two were finally alone.

"Did you have your vasectomy reversed?"

He'd gotten one several years ago, during his last serious relationship. He'd mentioned it to you in passing, but you'd made a point of asking him more about it later. You'd never personally known any man who'd gotten one, and couldn't help your curiosity. He'd explained his girlfriend at the time couldn't take birth control, that it gave her bad mood swings. So he got it done for her peace of mind. Your respect for him grew even stronger that day.

"No. Why do you ask?" he responds, a mischievous grin on his lips.

"Cause you went and got a condom last night," you say, still not even sure where or who he got it from. "I thought maybe that was because you'd had it reversed, or something."

"That was because we hadn't had a chance to talk about safety," he says, gently opening his eyes when you remove the brush from his lid, picking up a different palette from the shelf. "I don't know if you've been sleeping with anyone, or if you've been tested recently. And you weren't exactly in a state to have that conversation last night. I just figured using a condom was the safe thing to do."

"I haven't slept with anyone in like, two years," you respond, picking out the next color you want to apply to his crease. "But still I had my gyno test my earlier this year for like, everything. I just wanted to be sure. And I'm clean."

"Me too," he says, closing his eyes again when you quietly ask him to, so you can continue your work. "I haven't slept with anyone in a while too, but I had myself tested a few months ago. Just to be sure, like you said. I'm all good too." You just smile, a contented haze falling around you at how thoughtful and safe he is when it comes to sex. It makes you feel safe, really safe, with him. "So next time we- if we have sex again, do you not want me to use one?" he asks you. He peeks open to see you nodding, your lips curled up in a shy smile. Your reaction makes blood rush to his dick, your slight embarrassment making his head spin. Deep down he knows you like dirty, nasty things, despite your sweet, unassuming exterior. You probably want him to do unspeakable things to you.

"You want to feel my cum leaking out of you, don't you," he asks, voice low with a chuckle. Your core clenches instantly, all of the muscles of your groin instantly tensing up. You turn your head away from him briefly, unable to hide your blushing cheeks and your teeth biting onto your lower lip. Your core tightening against him answers the question for you, making Yunho even harder. "I didn't realize you liked that sort of thing," he says, a hand snaking up your thigh and coming to rest on your ass. It's now that he realizes you truly don't have anything on underneath his hoodie, and you haven't all day. He can feel the heat of your bare core through his sweats, as you start grinding yourself down on him more, your body taking over control of your movements.

"I like a lot of... things," you respond, your voice breathy with how turned on you're getting. Yunho nearly groans at your words, imagining just how many 'things' there are. He grabs your face and pulls you into a deep kiss, his head still slightly higher than yours despite your position. That makes his head spin too, how even sat on his lap you are shorter than him. He turns his head further to the side, coaxing your mouth open with his tongue, his hand on your ass guiding you to keep rubbing yourself against him. On his tongue you taste the sweet and savory flavors of dinner; you devour him like you haven't eaten in days, like he's your last hope of survival. You feel his dick getting hard beneath you, rubbing yourself along it while imaging it inside you. He grabs you tightly against him, pushing his tongue even further into your mouth, making you feel light headed with arousal. You're trying to keep your noises at bay, trying desperately not to make the sounds that you made last night. You chase the pleasure that grinding against him is giving you, but the anticipation is too much, and you need relief from it now. You push your hips back momentarily, setting down the brush in your hand to yank at his sweat pants, pulling them down just enough to let his cock spring free of the material. You move yourself forward, your pussy already so wet and ready for him. You truly don't want to waste any more time, you can't. You sink yourself down onto him, in one slow, fluid motion, sighing at the relief of having him fully seated inside of you.

"Fuck, baby," he whispers into your mouth, his lips on yours again, leaning himself forward and grabbing you tight so your bodies couldn't be any closer. You moan at how big he is, the feeling of relief also mixing with one of slight discomfort, at just how much you're being stretched.

"I can't move, I need a second," you whisper back, your eyes closed tightly in pleasure. He brushes a hand over your cheek, kissing the other, pulling back slightly to give you the moment you need. It makes him even harder seeing how much you are reacting to his size, another example of how small you are compared to him. He gently rubs a hand along your back underneath his hoodie, doing everything he can think of to help you relax. You're breathing slowly through your nose, clearly trying to calm your body, but your hips are moving every so slightly, your body still not able to stop chasing what it wants.

You open your eyes to look at him, his own eyes filled with lust and adoration, and the look makes your insides melt. But you can't help noticing your unfinished work; only one of his eyes has completed eye shadow, and a small gem at the corner bringing it all together.

"Can I finish your makeup?" you ask him, pouting.

"Now?" he responds, smiling in amusement.

"Yeah," you pout again, wishing it all looked complete.

"Okay," he nods, huffing out a laugh. He anchors his hands on your hips as you reach to grab the palette again, your pussy still so tight around him. He breathes deeply himself now, trying to keep his own desperation from hurting you or interrupting your wishes. But as you start applying the makeup again, your hands brushing gently over his skin, his closed eyes heightening every sensation, he can't help but buck his hips into you slightly, making you both moan instantly. He keeps his hands set on your hips tightly and starts rocking them back and forward, not moving you up and down his shaft so much as grinding yourself into him, the changes in pressure feeling shockingly good. You do your best to keep your upper body steady, as you finally complete the eye shadow on his second eye, sitting back to double check the symmetry. All that's left now is applying the gem, but your little noises and faces have nearly sent Yunho over the edge and he starts fucking himself up into you, holding your hips steady. You hold onto his shoulders, trying to keep yourself from falling as immense waves of pleasure wash over you. You look at his face again, his mouth agape in pleasure, his eyes looking so pretty framed by the makeup you'd applied. But still, the incompleteness eats at you.

"I can't- fuck- finish your makeup if you're fucking me like that," you say, breathless and struggling to get out such a long sentence.

"I don't really care about the makeup anymore," he says, eyes scanning down your body to watch his cock entering you over and over and stretching you out.

"It's just one more thing, let me finish," you whine, using your own momentum to try to slow his movements.

"Fuck, baby, okay," he groans, closing his eyes and breathing deeply to try to steady his rapid heart rate. His cock is throbbing with pleasure now, and with no barrier between you he can feel everything about you, just how warm and tight and wet your pussy is, squeezing down on him. He's not sure how long he can stay like this, but he wants to let you do what you want, so he begs his own body to behave, to deal with it. You shakily grab the gem, the adrenaline in your body making it nearly impossible as you almost drop it. Your body lurches forward for a second when you grab for it, making your core tighten down again and making Yunho feel like he's about to come undone. Finally you dab on the tiny spec of glue, and finally you place the gem on his face, just where you need it. Again you sit back for a moment to check the symmetry, and Yunho eyes your face intensely, waiting with baited breath for the moment he can finally move again.

"Okay, it's done," you say, a pleased smile on your face. It takes Yunho only a second to grab onto your back with one arm, anchoring himself with his other arm to his side. Suddenly you're in the air and then on your back, met the softness of your blanket. Yunho desperately grabs at his hoodie, pulling it over your head in one motion, throwing it to the side as he pulls off his own shirt with just one hand. His mouth is on yours, his chest and stomach pressed against you as he fucks you hard, his cock repeatedly hitting the perfect spot inside of you. Almost instantly your legs start shaking, your orgasm building fast and threatening to rip through you after all of the teasing before. Your breaths become too ragged for kissing, your head turned to the side as you desperately try not to moan like you did last night, not wanting to upset anyone again. Yunho lifts himself up to watch you, sitting himself up on his knees and putting your ankles on his shoulders, still fucking into you hard, the change in angle making your legs start to shake even more.

"Fuck, Yunho," you moan, feeling so fucked out you can't think of anything else but him. It only takes a few more moments and you're coming undone; your legs shake so much Yunho has to hold them tight, feeling the muscles of your cunt flutter and clench beautifully around him. He fucks you through it, loving to see the look on your face and the way you're trying so hard to be quiet. As he feels the fluttering stop he slows his thrusts a little, not wanting to stop too soon.

"Do you want another one?" he asks, his huge hands wrapped tightly around your legs still. You nod your head with a small smile, feeling like you could take him for hours if he wanted you to. "You'll have to keep it down for me then, even if it feels really good," he says, making you cover your face in embarrassment. Once again, your tightening core communicates for you, Yunho able to read you so well. "I know you like it when I talk to you like that," he says, making you squeal into your hands.

And then he's fucking you again, your legs still in the air, the angle making you come again in mere moments, as you bite down on your hand to keep from making too much noise. Yunho can tell your body can take more now, so he keeps going, feeling his own high approaching as you come for the third time in a row.

"God, I love fucking you," he whispers, his throat tight with pleasure. You feel the need for him to be close again, after coming so many times, so you wiggle your legs until he releases them, and pull at him to come down to you. He nearly collapses on top of you as he buries his face in your hair, his ragged breaths resounding in your ear. You bite down on his shoulder, the only way you can keep yourself from screaming, and suddenly you're coming again. So is Yunho, his hips finally stuttering from their diligent pace, his breathy groans uncontrollable as he cums harder than he ever has. You feel his cum inside you, filling you with warmth, making you wrap your arms and legs around him in a giant hug. As you both come down you stay stuck together, your mind a complete haze of pleasure and happiness.

"That wasn't too much, was it?" he asks you, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek and pushing himself up to get a good look at your face.

"Not at all, it was so good," you murmur, smiling wide. "Sometimes my body can take a lot."

"You're so beautiful," he says, staring at your perfect nose and lips and eyes in wonder.

"You're so beautiful," you respond, stretching your head up to kiss him. After a few more lazy moments spent wrapped around each other, Yunho grabs a pillow, tucking it under your lower back before he starts to finally pull out of you.

"Try to hold it in, I've got a towel right over there," he says, making you laugh. As you hold yourself still he darts to grab it, back to the bed in a second to start cleaning you up. As he dabs at your pussy he sees a few drops of his cum have escaped you, dripping down your ass and onto the bed below. It's so hot it almost makes him hard again, as he sits mesmerized by the sight. Knowing that there's so much still in you, that it'll be dripping out of you all night as you both sleep, makes him feel light headed. You're so tired you don't even see, your eyes closed as you nearly drift off already, your body needing rest after your hectic day. He gently moves you to the side of the bed you like, quickly wiping himself down before crawling into bed with you. You both fell asleep wrapped around each other again, his cum slowly dripping out of you and down your leg where you find it dried the next morning, a welcome reminder of your previous night.

[littyhoney]

Right Person,Wrong Time (part 3)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

BIG SPOILER WARNING TO ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE!!

Earth 42 Miles Morales x Reader

Chapter summary: One last heart break...will you ever get enough of it?

Warning: Spoilers for the movie Across the Spider-verse, slight angst

ps: If yall have any request for one-shots and imagines message me im open up for requests! &lt;3

You been avoiding Miles ever since the incident happened betweent the two of you… not that you are being petty but it just hurt your feelings to see someone you care looking at you thinking it be someone else instead even after you give your all to him.  You still went on to the patrol with him at night but separately,only come to help him when the situation is overwhelms him but nothing more than that.

You are sitting in your dorm room at  Vision Academy currently finishing up your essay, music blaring in the background. But your focus got disturb when a ring come from your phone on the bed, you use your web to pull it towards you to see the caller ID.

Coco Head calling…

You sigh contemplating you want to accept the call or not,your thumb hovering on the red button but your guts is screaming at you to accept. “Oh what the heck…” you mumble to yourself before accept the call and put the phone againts your ear hearing a panic screams from Miles reach your ear and a few groans here and there.  You shot up from your seat.

“Miles? What is going on!?”  You panic as you hear Miles struggle againts or with someone over the phone,in your head maybe he is fighting againts a criminal when he is supposed to be in the principa’s office “you heard Miles  scream one more time before he manage to let out a loud “I NEED HELP HERE THIS GUY IS OUT OF CONTROL!” before another scream is heard.

“Where the hell are you Miles! Im coming to-” you start to walk towards the window before you see outside of the window makes you stop talking. Outside the window you see Miles is struggling to catch a guy…in a cow outfit? Or a dalmation,what a weird taste in costume for a criminal but you shake your head and tell him through the phone “be there in a minute!” you shed off your school uniform underneath it is your spider suit,believe me it gets itchy sometimes through out the day to wear this many layers of clothes to cover the suit man.

You put on your mask before jump out through the window and catch yourself using your web start swinging towards Miles and the weird criminal on top of the bus. You shot out a web towards the hand and foot making it fall on top of the bus as you land besides Miles,who is currently try his best to respond to his dad’s message.

“So uh what are you exactly?” you look down at the white with black spot guy as he struggle againts your web. He grunts around before answering “Im the spot! And no im not a cow OR a dalmation! I’am your nemesis!” clearly the guy is pissed off,but why? You tilt your head “Oookay?”

You turn towards Miles with your hands on your waist with a slight scowl shown on your mask “and you cant even handle a guy that looks like a cow?” Miles turn towards you slightly feel offended by you “That guy is a pain to catch! He can create portals and im late my mom is gonna kill me!” you shake your head slightly “That is a you problem with mama Rio” you turn your head back to the guy to shot a web at him so that you can give him to the police and finish the job easy,but instead of the web get on his body it goes through one of the holes and a black portal open up besides you as the web shot to your side “what the!-” you pull your web resulting to you catapul yourself into the portal resulting to you slam againts the street vendor “No way im getting my ass kick by a cow” you mumble to yourself before catching up on two of them.

Somehow you and Miles finally get a hold of this guy as he is now In a tangle mess mixture of you and Miles web to his limbs in his own portal that he made. You let out a big sigh before turning to Miles “You gotta go now man,don’t want mama Rio to go T-rex on ya” Miles let out a small shoot and look at you “Thanks for helping me with this uh criminal of the week” you nod your head “anytime man…anytime”

Miles look guilty as he contemplating wanting to reach his hand out to you “look, you been avoiding me for few days and I-I understand but-” you stop Miles sentence with your own “Look man,how about you go back to the academy first then we talk about this…after the party” Miles let out a defeat sigh before nodding his head and start to swing his way to the academy “I owe you one!” he shouted.  You turn your attention back to the cow looking guy “You stay put right there alright? The police gonna come by any minute” you start to walk backwards as you talk to the edge of the building

“Wait where are you going!? im not done yet!”the ‘cow’ guy screams as he struggle agaits the webs. “I have a class to catch up man, see ya never!” you fall backwards from the edge of the building and make your way back to the window that leads to your dorm room,but you’re still late for the class anyways.

(small times skip as miles got to face with his angry momma bear and stopping the spot with his dad)

It is later in the evening after a long day of classes youre making your way to Miles apartment to attend the party that mama Rio invited you to come,instead of swinging your way from place to place like Miles you love the simplicity to just walk down the sidewalk, looking at the people around you minding their own bussiness completely oblivious as the person that is walking among them is a spiderman/spiderwoman. Youre walking through the alleyway for shortcut before suddenly your spider sense goes off, huh that’s weird. Your hearing sense did’nt hear anything other than the busy street down the alley so you continue on walking.

You went up the stair leading to the party opening the door and see a lot of people are there enjoying themselves with foods and drinks and the music played by the DJ,wow the Morales really know how to throw a party. You make your way to Mrs Morales wanting to greet her first before doing anything else tap her shoulder “Hey mama Rio!”

The woman turn around and smile widely as she lay her eyes on you “(Y/N)! you finally made it welcome dear,we have lots of food and drinks help yourself out” you smile back at her “Thanks mama Rio” you were about to ask where Miles is before a voice came from beside you “Hey (Y/N)!” you turn to look at Mr Morales before held out your palm for a handshake “Congrats on the promotion captain Davis”you smile up at the man happy for him. The man chuckle shaking your hand “Thank you (Y/N),glad you could make it to the party It be a shame for you to miss some of Rio’s cooking”. You laugh lightly before asking where their son is,mama Rio nudge her head looking towards the water tank “Hes’s right there,with his friend”she put one of her hand on her waist looking at her son hanging out with the girl she never seen before.

Mama Rio voice drown away as you stand there,stunned to see who is standing beside Miles and chatting away happily together…It’s Gwen. Your heart starts to beat fast as you clench your hand to a fist on your sides,pursing your lips not believing that she’s there in person. Your heart seems to squeeze itself and you fight the urge to just storm away from the party,not only that Gwen didn’t come to see you but Miles didn’t even call or message to tell you that Gwen is here! Your brows start to turn upside down as your eyes are pierce to where they stand.

(Mama Rio’s POV.)

“She looks old enough to vote does’nt she?” Rio told her husband and the her son’s bestfriend before looking at the child who is beside her,who is clearly in distress. Rio is not blind or a fool,clearly she can see how much the child likes her son,deep down she is hoping Miles would see it but over the years it does’nt seem to grow past that point. Rio put her hand gently on the child’s shoulder giving it a light squeeze before speaking softly “I know you like him my dear,he needs some time to see that��

The child look down before speaking in a such soft tone it almost a whisper “I did give him time mama Rio…but…im giving up on it,maybe it’s better to be there for him and be happy for him you know…”

Rio sigh move herself to where her son is at not before giving her last words to the child “You are a good kid (Y/N), Im sure,one day you will find someone just as selfless and have so much love to give to you” she give the kid one last smile before make her way to where her son is.

Back to you POV.

Mama rio’s word ring through your head…your eyes trail back to where Miles and Gwen are before mumbling to the air “Maybe…in another universe…he would” little that you know…that universe exist,and it's called Earth 42.

To be continued....

(ALMOST THERE TO MEET EARTH 42 MILES BARE WITH ME LOVELY SPIDERS &lt;;3)

tag list:

@dazecrea @i-love-milfs2 @usernamepassowrd-blog @frissy @musicownsme @randomhoex @dystop4in14nd @coldlamaspersonspy @repostingmyfavs @lovefks @wingedghostpepper @bath1lda @baku-boneless @biggestmacsstuff @milesquaritcheswife @mmst4rz @jasontoddsfavoritechair @jadyn-is-kinda-gay-ngl @manduse @angelbunnyboo @bbootyyyshaker9000 @thymom696969 @camilo-uwu @duckwithsunglasses @arlipooh

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (03)

chapter three: puzzle pieces

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; unprotected sex (this is fiction, not real life. don’t do it kids), oral sex (m. and f. receiving), fingering, cum eating, praise kink if you squint???, could’ve been edited a bit more but oh well i tried lol word count: 3.2k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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If loving you’s a crime Cuff me up, I’ll do my time for you, girl When I make you mine (when I make you mine) Didn’t come all this way just to waste your time

Over Some Wine - RINI ft. Maeta

It wouldn’t have taken that long to walk to your apartment. And normally, you would welcome the brisk night stroll with friends, basking in the chilly but pleasant air as you wander the empty streets, with nothing but the glow of everlasting youth for warmth every time the wind breezes by.

Though tonight you had opted to hail a taxi back to yours after leaving the club. You’re not an impatient person and neither is Minho, but whenever you’re around him, waiting always seems to be the hardest thing to do.

The entire time you were in the car, his hand was on your leg, the touch seemingly innocent at first, until his fingers started trailing higher and higher, until his hand was gripping your inner thigh. His knuckles brushed against your core at one point, and you had to summon every last bit of control not to jump his bones right then and there.

Once you're finally within the comfort of your own home, Minho's got you hoisted up with your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips instantly chasing yours while his hands settle on your ass, squeezing you as he carries you to your bedroom. He knows the layout of your apartment well enough that he doesn't have to break away from the kiss for more than a second to navigate the place and reach his desired destination.

It's only when he has lowered you on the bed that he stops kissing you, latching onto your neck while his clothed erection grinds against you. You choke on a breath as Minho sucks on a sweet spot, his favorite place to mark you. You love it, even though you always end up complaining to him that you have to cover it up when you go outside.

His hands knead you roughly, one still on your ass, the other having moved to your chest. You tug on his shirt, desperate and impatient, and he complies almost immediately. He finishes his work on your neck with a particular hard suck, his tongue soothing the skin before he pulls away from you just far enough to get rid of the shirt.

Minho dives in to kiss you again but you put a hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly before your lips could meet. “Take off your pants,” you demand restlessly.

“What?” he simpers, though his hands are already reaching to undo his belt. “You don’t wanna kiss some more?”

“You can kiss me while you fuck me.”

It’s easy to tell that your words affect him, judging from the way his eyes glaze over with lust and the retort that he swallows back down. While he kicks off his jeans and boxers, you work on stripping yourself bare for him. You’re both naked in record time, and then he’s gravitating toward you once again.

It’s routine at this point; Minho likes to make you come at least once or twice before he fucks you. He’s about to descend your body before you’re stopping him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Not gonna let me have a taste?” he pouts.

“Later,” you tell him. “I just need you now.”

He bites his lip like he’s contemplating it, then slots his body between your open legs, his bare cock positioned on your inner thigh. “You sure? Don’t want me to prep you first?” he asks.

“No.” Your hands slide up his neck, pulling him closer until he’s resting his forehead against yours. “Can’t wait. Want you so bad...”

You’re practically whimpering, positively dripping with need as you tell him this. It makes Minho lose his mind a little bit, makes his breath hitch. He kisses you again as his fingers slip through your folds, pleased to find that you’re already beyond wet.

The sounds that you make, muffled by his lips, go straight to his cock; the length throbs, hardens impossibly more.

He dips his fingers into your entrance regardless, burying them to the hilt, scissoring you open. You buck against his hand instantly, your pliant cunt soaking his digits as you whine - or try to, anyway. It’s good, the way he’s fucking his fingers into you, but you need more.

“Min, just fuck me...” You break the kiss to look at him with darkened eyes, full of desire. “Please.”

“Whatever you want, baby.” Then he’s pulling out, making a quick show of sucking his fingers clean, humming contentedly at your taste. The sudden emptiness that he leaves you with almost hurts, but it dissipates when he aligns himself with you, rubbing his tip against your clit a few times before he’s finally pushing in.

There’s a stretch but it’s not unpleasant. It’s delicious, how he fills you up so perfectly like he was made just for you.

That thought crosses your mind again.

My puzzle piece. My perfect fit.

You let out a drawn moan as Minho bottoms out. You can’t think straight, not when he’s this close to you, not when you can feel all of him. Not when it’s practically suffocating you, just how intimate the moment is.

You know it’s not exactly what you signed up for, or at least you still try to remind yourself that. And yet...

You two don’t use condoms anymore; you haven’t in a while. It’s a little reckless and stupid, you know that. Maybe if someone else had come to you and told you that they were forgoing protection with their close-friend-turned-friend-with-benefits, you would scold the shit out of them. But this is your situation, and people don’t tend to be very wise when it comes to their own dilemmas, do they?

Minho always pulls out, and you never forget to take your birth control. Of course, there’s always some concern, but it isn’t really on the forefront of your mind right now. There hasn’t been any scares so far.

“Okay?” he asks, brushing his lips against your cheek as he holds your waist.

You nod fervently. “More than okay. Please move.”

He chuckles at your impatience, giving your sides a tender squeeze before rearing his hips back. The drag of his cock along your walls makes you sigh, and when he plunges back into you, you almost shudder from how fucking good it feels.

“Minho...” His name falls from your lips hoarsely, brokenly. The pace he sets is fast, makes you see stars from the get-go. He would’ve preferred to play with you a bit more to ease the stretch for you, but he knows you wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t think you could handle it.

You pull him closer with your arms around his neck until your chest is pressed tightly against his. He kisses you again, slowly, sweetly, while he thrusts into you hard and fast.

You know he likes it when you’re loud for him, because of him. He’s told you that much himself. But more often than not, Minho would kiss you a lot during sex, swallowing the moans trying to escape from you.

Maybe he’s just looking out for your poor neighbors.

Or maybe he just likes kissing you that much.

“Fuck,” he groans against your lips, breaking away momentarily to let you breathe. His cock nudges your g-spot on every stroke and it feels like heaven. “You’re doing so good, baby. Always take me so well.”

You don’t know if it’s the pet name that makes your heart skip a beat or if it’s just the praise in general, but either way, it fills you with an indescribable warmth.

You clench around him, your thighs instinctively hugging his waist tighter and that’s how he knows you’re almost there. “Gonna come for me?” he asks, his hips never easing up on their brutal pace because goddamn Lee Minho and his fucking stamina. One of his hands sneaks down to meet your clit, drumming it like he’s playing the freaking guitar and it makes you want to scream.

“So close,” you cry out. He’s brought you to that edge already, and all you have to do now is... fall. “Min, I’m...”

“I’m here. I’ve got you.”

And so you do. You fall. You let yourself tip over the edge and into the sea of pleasure that awaits you. It’s stars exploding behind your eyelids, wonderfully devastating. It’s rapturous euphoria, the way Minho holds you through it all, how he peppers kisses along your jawline, how he never ceases his movements, making your high last as long as possible.

He holds out until he’s seen your orgasm through. When your bliss subsides, his hips stutter, turning more erratic.

“I’m close,” he rasps out.

You hold his face and mimic his actions just a couple minutes ago, kissing his cheek, the bridge of his nose and the cute mole on the side, then finally his lips. “Where do you want it?”

“Your mouth,” he asks gently. “Please.”

When Minho pulls out, you move toward him, settling on your hands and knees until your face is level with his bare cock. He lets out a breathless moan as you take him into your awaiting mouth, humming contentedly when you taste yourself on him. He has both hands on you, one tangled in your hair, the other stroking your cheek affectionately, all the while his hips thrust into your mouth slowly until he hits the back of your throat, only to pull back and do it again repeatedly.

You peer up at him through your lashes, and Minho just thinks you’re so fucking pretty like this, looking at him with innocent eyes, yet you’re doing downright obscene things with him, letting him do the filthiest things to you.

You place your hand on top of his own, the one that’s on your face, caressing your cheekbone. “Baby,” he whimpers brokenly as you hollow out your cheeks to try and suck him off better. His heavy length throbs on your tongue, pulsating with the need to come. He’s aware that he sounds beyond needy and desperate, but you’re just so warm and wet and a fucking goddess that it makes him short-circuit, wiping his mind clean until all he knows is you.

Nothing else, no one else but you.

It takes him only a few more sloppy thrusts before he’s calling out your name in a drawn-out moan, spilling his hot cum down your throat, coating your tastebuds with him. You bop your head along his length for a minute longer, until you’re certain that he has nothing left to give you. When you’re done, your tongue wanders from the base to the tip, lightly sucking and licking the head like a kitten, before you open your mouth to show him that you’ve been a good girl.

Minho is dazed as he stares at you, his lips parted as he tries to even out his breathing. You smile triumphantly as you watch him try to get his bearings, but after a moment, he’s still quiet. You’re about to poke his side to get him to come down from the clouds, but he’s suddenly pulling you up by your arms and kissing you hard. You let out a surprised gasp, muffled against his mouth, before you relax against him, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself.

He moans when he tastes himself on your tongue, and the vibration caused by the sound makes you press your thighs together.

One of his hands gropes your bare ass before his fingers find your core again, rubbing your slit, gathering the moisture there.

“Did sucking me off make you wet again?” Minho pulls back slightly to ask, a smirk evident on his lips. You don’t say anything; you just look at him with bashful eyes. “Want me to make you come again?”

At this, you nudge his nose with yours. “Will you?” you ask coyly. “Just a quick one.”

He kisses you once more before he gently pushes you backward, motioning for you to lie on the bed as he settles with his head between your legs.

He sucks a faint mark into one of your inner thighs. “Anything for you,” he says.

His lips latch onto your awaiting clit, sucking it into his mouth gently and instantly making you sigh in pure bliss. Your fingers thread themselves in his hair, tugging on it when two of his fingers dip into your entrance without warning. The digits enter you easily, aided by your excess wetness, fucking you fast, determined to make you come again.

You feel like you’re floating.

There’s something about today. Some lines, blurred.

It doesn’t take long before you find yourself nearing the edge again. You’re still a bit sensitive from your previous orgasm after all. “Ah, shit… There…” you keen out, your greedy hands trying to push him further against your cunt, which he happily obliges. 

When you come in his mouth, your thighs shaking around his head, Minho laps it all up, taking his sweet time to lick you clean. You feel him moan against your core, and it isn’t until you start wincing from the overstimulation that he releases you.

A smug grin blooms on his lips as he crawls up the bed, lying down next to you. You take a couple of minutes to catch your breath, thoroughly enjoying the warmth that settles deep in your belly and the satisfying sensation between your legs. You cover your body with the duvet before you roll onto your side to face him.

Pillow talk isn’t your forte.

You just watch him as he watches you carefully, neither of you saying anything as the electricity in the air settles. You wait to see if he would speak, but after a moment, your eyelids start getting heavy. Exhaustion catches up with your body quicky.

“Tired?” Minho asks.

“Mhmm.”

He waits for another beat, reaches a hand out to stroke your hair softly before he gets up and goes to the bathroom. The aftercare is routine, and you cannot express how much you appreciate him for it. He returns with a damp cloth, then peels the duvet from your bottom half to clean you up. He does all of it quietly, and the silence makes you even drowsier.

When Minho is done, he pats your leg and covers you up again. He goes back to observing you and your sleepy face for another minute. You keep your eyes open as you try to maintain eye contact but it’s hard; you feel like you could pass out any second now.

Nevertheless, even in your exhausted state, you still sense the light somberness that befalls the confines of your walls. Usually, this is the part where he leaves, and you can tell that he doesn’t like the realization that he has to go now.

You see it in his face and it makes you a little sad because you know he wants to stay.

Then, it strikes you that you don’t really want him to leave either. At least not tonight.

“It’s late. You can stay the night,” you say quietly, “if you want.”

The same excuse that you used to kick him out the last time, now you’re using to get him to stay.

Minho seems surprised. “Are you okay with that?”

“I wouldn’t have brought it up if I wasn’t okay with it.”

“Oh.”

You catch the tip of his ears turning red. It’s endearing, for some reason.

He puts on his boxers from where they were abandoned on the floor earlier, but opts to remain shirtless. His movements are a bit graceless, like he doesn’t really know what to do with himself.

This is a first for the both of you. The first time he’s ever stayed over.

“Do you want me to grab you a shirt?” he asks.

You nod lazily. “Yes, please.”

Minho wanders over to your wardrobe and rummages through your t-shirt drawer. He picks one out from the bunch, holding it up for you to see. It takes a few seconds for your brain to catch up with you, but when it does, you realize that it’s not your shirt at all. It’s Minho’s, one that he left here some time ago and you were just never reminded to give it back.

“Oh,” you say. “You can wear it if you want. It’s yours anyway.”

“I think I’d rather see you wear it.”

You don’t argue because you’re tired and it’s just a shirt. You throw it on when he hands it to you along with a clean pair of underwear.

“What?” you ask when he just hovers over your bed and stares at you.

His gaze flickers from your eyes to the shirt covering your body, his lips curling upward before he tells you, “Nothing.”

After turning off the lights, Minho climbs into bed with you. You’re lying on your back and you suspect that he’s in a similar position, though you don’t turn to look at him to make sure. It’s awkward, and you don’t really know what to do about it.

A couple minutes later, he brushes his fingers against yours. “Can I?”

You don’t know what he’s asking, but you agree nonetheless. “Okay.”

There’s some shuffling from his direction, like he’s rolled over onto one side to face you in the dark. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, until your back is flushed against his bare chest. The godforsaken thing that you call a heart starts beating wildly for a reason unbeknownst to you. It’s difficult to breathe properly when he’s holding you like this.

Like you’ve never been held before.

You think Minho feels the stiffness of your body in his arms because he starts rubbing odd patterns on your skin, up and down your sides, trying to soothe you.

It helps a bit, but then again it’s probably the sleepiness seeping in more and more too.

“Hey,” you start. “About what Hyunjin said at the party tonight.”

Minho pauses the movements of his fingers a second. “What did he say?”

“The thing he said about the girl…”

He laughs his cute laugh then, his chest vibrating with the sound. “You know the girl is you, right?”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“It’s cute.”

“It’s not.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, patting your stomach with affection. “What about what Hyunjin said?”

You take a breath. “I don’t know. What if everyone finds out?”

“They won’t,” Minho reassures you. “They’re not the brightest bunch.”

“Be serious.”

“I am serious,” he protests, then his voice gets smaller, full of hesitation as he asks, “Even if they do find out, would it really be that bad?”

“It wouldn’t be the end of the world,” you tell him, “but I don’t know, it’s…”

Then you trail off, not really knowing what to say. It’s what? Embarrassing? Scary? What?

“Come on.” Minho presses a kiss into your hair after a moment of dead silence. Maybe he thinks that you’ve fallen asleep, or maybe he’s trying to keep you from overthinking everything. The gentle kiss would’ve made you weak in the knees if you aren’t already lying down. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk about it later.”

Your mind takes you back to what he said just now. You can’t help but think how that sentence would sound better if only he’d switched out one word for another.

My girl…

You know my girl is you, right?

It makes your heart skip a beat, then you’re snuggling further into the warmth of his embrace, where he welcomes you with no reservation.

You drift off to the sound of his breathing, dreaming about you and him.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 12.01.2024]

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 33

part 1 | part 32 | ao3

Chapter 8

cw: period-typical attitudes/language

"Steve," Robin hisses through the phone, and he can practically hear her nostrils flaring. "I have been trapped at Uncle Bobby and Aunt Deb's house for six. days." She drops her voice to a harsh whisper, the tone somehow even more disapproving at a lower volume. "HOW have you not kissed him yet??"

"It's not like I didn't try!" Steve throws his hands up; nearly knocks his broom to the floor. He's finally sweeping up the shards of glass in the living room, because he's tired of wearing shoes in his own house (and because at some point he's going to have to have the kids over whether he wants to or not. He's kind of surprised Erica hasn't shown up demanding to hang Christmas lights yet; that girl is aggressively festive.) "He was all 'ask me in the morning,' so I was gonna ask him in the morning! Not my fault it was Monday morning and his stupid uncle barged in yelling about how he was going to be late for school."

"You really shouldn't call him stupid," she interrupts, "that man is a saint."

"No, you’re right. Wayne's awesome."

It’s true. Wayne walked in on them that morning, like, fully spooning in their sleep — Eddie pressed all along Steve's back with an arm over his waist, their ankles intertwined — and rather than beat Steve's ass and ban him from their house like Steve expected him to, he just awkwardly grunted 'breakfast is ready' and shut the door.

"I'm always right," Robin gloats in his ear.

"You're always the worst."

"You love me." Steve hears shuffling as she adjusts the cord — probably wiggling around to lie on her stomach on the bed and kick her feet up in the air the way she likes — and then she says, "I'm still not seeing how this explains the other five whole days, though."

Jesus. Five whole days. Like she's his unimpressed boss and he’s late with the quarterly reports. "Our schedules kept not lining up! And then he went out of town with Jeff's family for the holiday."

"And you haven't called him?"

Steve glares flatly at the phone; hopes she can feel it through the line. "Literally how would I do that, Robin?"

"Well— I don't know! Maybe..." She hums in thought then snaps her fingers, talking fast. "Ooh! You could ask Wayne for the number? I mean, he'd have to know it in case he needed to reach Eddie, right?"

"Uh huh." Steve loves her solution-oriented brain, he really does, but that's one of the worst ideas he's heard in a while. (And he's including Mike and Dustin's attempted kidnapping last month.) "Yeah, let me get right on that," he snarks, switching the phone to his other ear. "I’ll just call them up and say, 'Hey, Mr. or Mrs. Jeff's Grandparents! This is Steve Harrington, may I—? Oh. Who's Steve Harrington, you ask? Nobody, sir or ma’am, just the kid who stood by and watched while his teammates gave your grandson a swirlie two years ago, so I'm sure he fucking hates me still for that! Anyway, can I please flirt with your house guest now?'"

Robin's whinnying into the receiver by the time Steve finishes his rant, and he begrudgingly laughs along with her, shaking his head as he stoops to pick up the dust pan.

"Okay," she concedes. "You may have a point."

"Thank you."

"But you still have to do something to make up for this when he gets home! Otherwise, he's going to think you're, like, having a straight boy crisis or something and get all weird."

"I'm not having a 'straight boy crisis,'" Steve rolls his eyes. He's having a bisexual boy crisis — at least, according to the three hour phone call he had with Robin the other night (which was humiliating, by the way; he never thought he'd be quietly crying tears of total confusion while saying the words 'I still likes boobies, though' out loud. Jesus Christ. Sexuality is embarrassing.) "And I already have a grand gesture in mind, anyway."

"Oh?" Robin perks up. "Do tell."

"I was thinking we could, like..." Hmm. It's sounding less grand when he goes to say it out loud. "Well, shit, I don't know. I thought we could go to one of his shows together when you get back, but now that sounds kind of lame?"

“No, that's good! That's perfect, actually. We can get a whole group together to go support him, then he'll see that you're not embarrassed to be seen around him with your friends."

"Wait, was that a concern?" Oh, god. He dumps more glass into the trash can; hisses when a little shard gets his fingertip; sucks the wound into his mouth. "Are you sure it’s not-? I mean, I want him to know I mean it in a romantic way, not just a friendly gesture."

"Well, yeah, obviously. But you can't just go by yourself; his bandmates hate you."

Oh, right. “Yeah.” That would be pretty awkward to loiter in a booth by himself all night while Jeff and Gareth and the other kid glare daggers at him. "Do you think you could get a group together? If I do it…"

"…We'll be hanging out with a group of dorky freshman all night?”

"Rude."

"Accurate."

"You know what? Tell Deb and Bobby they can keep you."

"Ah!" Robin gasps. "You would turn to stone like a troll in the sun without me, and you know it!"

Man, he misses her. "Yeah, I know it." He puts the broom back up on the hook. "When ya comin' home?"

"Soon, I hope. I swear to god if I have to hear Deb and Patty fight over the leftovers one more time—!" She cuts herself off with a strangled noise, and Steve laughs at her plight. "Anyway, yes. I'll ask some friends at school—"

"—Is one of those friends Vickie?"

“I can multi-task; shut up."

"I love you," he smiles.

"Love you, too, dingus.” Her voice dips soft and sincere for just a second; there and gone. “Hey, I have to go, Carrie wants the phone.”

“You have too many relatives.”

“Ugh, I know. Okay. Leaving for real now; can't wait to see you for Operation Woo Your Man!”

"Robin, no-!”

“Got to go byeeeee.”

“We’re not calling it that!” He holds the phone out with both hands so he can yell into the receiver. “Robin? Robin!"

The line's already dead.

—

part 34

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[piracytheorist]

Twilight Eyes Project: "Secure a Wife" (part 2)

First part here

Naturally, "Twilight eyes" stay on during his side mission with Franky. Then he bursts into Camilla's party, wounded and disoriented enough to mess up his introduction.

And thus... slightly different expressions from manga to anime.

In the manga, it's full-on Twilight eyes. Brow going downward to the center, focused and narrowed eyes. The anime has the first two, though as of focused eyes... they make use of animation to show he's so shaken he can't focus his eyes on one place. His slip-up does look funnier when he's trying to present himself as Very Put Together™ as he does in the manga, but I think it's funny either way. Also, I appreciate the small extra whump bone from the anime.

Continuing on the humorous aspect, he switches all the way to reassuring Loid eyes as he tells everyone how absolutely, definitely normal his situation is. No biggie. Just a head flesh wound. He sleeps those right off.

"Loid eyes" stay on as he continues his ploy. Nothing to see here, please continue, are you having fun, my dear wife whom I definitely did not meet just a couple days ago?

Those eyes keep up until Camilla tries to embarrass Yor in front of everyone with details about her "past job"... and here goes.

Loid eyes. He will show everyone how proud he is of his wife.

But then, slowly, his eyes don't look so strained anymore...

... until they're outright sad eyes.

The direct proof (along with the short flashback) that what Twilight says there is the truth for him: he doesn't judge Yor, instead, he honestly supports and praises her for her dedication and her strength.

And when he finishes his praise, he looks towards the others... and the audience doesn't get to see his eyes.

Yor does.

And the truth she sees in his eyes is enough to not only bring tears to her eyes, but to also stay with her and give her strength multiple chapters/episodes later.

This smile isn't the one he actually gave her. But it's the one she remembers.

(Wrong angle in the anime, but we can forgive that)

They leave Camilla's party, get attacked by the smuggling ring, Twilight knocks a few of them out and tells Yor to run for it, Twilight eyes on as he keeps himself alert for any possible attack.

Yor voices her worries about the well-being of his "patients"... and what else can he do but put on the Loid eyes. Which I'm actually sure weren't necessary with her, lol.

Unstoppable force (Yor believing everything she sees and hears) meets immovable object (Twilight suspecting everything and everyone).

Subtle Twilight eyes as he starts to question... well, his own judgment, at this point 😆

They get attacked, and Yor kicks a guy into another dimension before he can hurt Loid. And!

I would just really like to know what his thought process here was. This look is on the verge between "Loid eyes" and "real eyes". But this next panel/shot feels like it's closer to "real eyes".

He was actually amused by how far she kicked that guy, huh 😆

They kick a few more guys' asses, then Yor drops the "why don't we get married" question. Twilight is, understandably, shocked and confused. It's actually something he'd planned for, but it came unexpectedly and just so freely and willingly from Yor.

When his mind picks up from the shock, he puts on the thought process.

And we get investigative eyes.

Twilight accepts, gives her the best marriage proposal to ever grace a screen, starts with Loid voice for "Even in sickness, or in sadness," and switches to Twilight voice for "No matter what hardships await us, let us be there for each other."

Twilight eyes as he finishes his vows,

And... this, as he thinks "Until my mission do us part"

I want to make it clear that I completely doubt he'd already grown any feelings for Yor already. Probably the only thing he'd feel for her at that point was that he sympathized with her mental fortitude and willingness to sacrifice herself in order to protect and support someone she cared about. The pleasant face he has at the end could be merely his expression of relief that the mission was going smoothly.

But then, isn't that what becomes the foundation of the feelings he'll grow later? The relief that she is the kind of person who will protect the peace he fights so hard to maintain himself? A relief that will grow strong enough to lead him into revealing true parts of himself to her?

There's definitely a lot to take away just from the way Twilight's eyes are drawn, in any case.

(anime only fan here, don't spoil me for the manga)

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part nineteen

authors note: the infamous chapter is finally here! a lot of questions you all have asked me are finally answered. i hope it's enjoyable and worth the wait!

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: angst (discussion of child loss), language, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 10k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @southerngirl41 @wanderingreigns @romanreignsbae

To say your 2024 Bingo card has been filled with nothing but surprises would be the understatement of the century.

The past six months, really, have been mostly wonderful but also chaotic as hell.

And if someone had told you, way back when it was just you and Joe in your own little fantasy world, that his wife would one day text you in the middle of the night, wanting to meet and join forces to combat your apparently psycho-ex best friend, you’d laugh your ass off. Laugh your ass off harder than a guest at a Katt Williams special.

But, life is funny, and God clearly has a sense of humor, because that’s exactly what happened.

It’s also why you’re sitting on Joe’s bathroom counter at 4am as he finishes up in the shower, readying for his early flight.

“I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind to tell you I gave her your number.” Joe shuts the water off, and you immediately redirect your attention to anywhere but him as he walks out. It’s bad enough you two didn’t have enough time to get in another session before his departure, but it’s another thing to be so cruelly taunted by your sexy ass man in all his buff, your favorite pastime on fully display but unable to be touched.

Sucked.

Rode.

All of the above.

Joe continues, and your eyes land on him just as he’s knotting the towel around his waist.

“I should have asked you before I did so, but with everything going on—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Joe.” Cutting off his unnecessary apology feels like a good move, the right move. You’re not mad at him about that at all. “I know you would have never done so if you believed she had any ill intent.” And it’s the truth, especially on the eve of this Mariah mess. “Sure, I would have liked a heads up that my boyfriend’s ex-wife would be texting me asking to meet and essentially do an interview together, but it wasn’t a necessity.”

He chuckles, looking over and asking, “what are your thoughts there?”

A heavy sigh leaves your mouth at his equally heavy question. “I don’t know. I feel torn. On one hand, it’s kinda weird, ya know? Truth be told, I always figured if by some miracle I ever spoke to her, she’d try to kick my ass sooner than she’d want to grab dinner.” You quickly add, “emphasis on try because ain’t no bitch beating my ass.”

He chuckles, reaching for his deodorant. “Well, you better not be fighting nobody with my baby in you.”

Rolling your eyes, your hand naturally rests on your stomach. “I know, I just….what do you think?”

“I think you should do whatever makes you most comfortable.”

“None of this is comfortable,” you murmur, and it’s the truth. This whole thing sucks all around. “And that’s not an answer.”

He shrugs. “I can’t tell you what to do, babe.”

“Technically, you can, but you’re choosing not to. There’s a difference.”

Joe moves over and caresses your temple, sharing quietly, “I want you and Callie to come down to Philly a few days before WrestleMania. They’ll put me up in an Airbnb. I’ll make sure it’s big enough for all of us.” 

The abrupt change of topic confuses you, yes, but there’s more excitement at the thought of being reunited with him than bewilderment. It brings a small smile to your face. “Are you sure?” Any chance to see Joe will always be taken advantage of, you just don’t want your and Callie’s visiting him at such a time to cause any sort of distraction.  “I don’t want us to get in the way. You need to focus.”

“You two could never get in the way, and my focus is exactly where it should be.” His hand snakes under your shirt, feeling your soft belly. “I also want you to come to the Hall of Fame Awards with me.”

That definitely takes you by surprise. You’ve never attended any sort of formal, public event with him before, and the WWE Hall of Fame awards is like the event. “Are—are you sure that’s a good idea?” Being careful with your words and honest with yourself, you confess, “I’m not sure if it’s a good look for you to be seen so publicly and openly with me right now. Your fans already kinda hate me.”

Limiting your media consumption has been a saving grace in all this. Not that you were big on it to begin with. However, you have read a couple articles and made the even bigger mistake of reading the comments. To say some, if not most, of the internet wrestling community have nothing nice to say about you would be putting it lightly. 

There’s people cussing you out, people saying you should burn in hell for what you did, even some saying if Joe (Roman) loses at WrestleMania, it’ll be your fault.

That last one is at least a little funny to you, because for such big fans, they sure don’t know how WWE works.

Roman’s gonna retain the same way he has for almost three years. 

Ain’t shit stopping that.

“I told you before, and I’ll keep saying it until I’m blue in the face—I don’t give a fuck what they have to say about us. I love you, and I’m going to be with you, regardless of what anyone thinks. The Hall of Fame, Wrestlemania, hell, I’ll take you in the fucking ring with me if I want to.” His defense is so strong in its delivery and conviction that it almost instantly takes away any and all reservations on your end. “And they’re not fans if they have some negative shit to say about the woman I love.”

“Well, in their defense, Mariah did a damn good job making me out to be some Jezebel.”

“That’s partially why I think you should do the Live with Jadah.” His tone and expression soften, thumb rubbing against your stomach. “They don’t know you like I do, and they don’t need to per se, but they can at least see you’re not what she’s made you out to be.” He brings his mouth to your temple, lips lingering. “They can see why I love you so much.”

“Knew you had an opinion on what you think I should do.” But, regardless, you’re thankful for him truly allowing you to decide what is best for you. And you think you have. With a big breath, you settle on your final answer. “I’m gonna do it, but not even to let people see I’m not this horrible person. I just….I haven’t really had a chance to use my voice in any of this. Like…..” You work hard to help him understand where you’re coming from. “I didn’t have a voice in the DCFS situation outside of defending my parenting, but in this….there’s a chance for me to speak my side, to be able to defend myself. And I feel like I need to do it.”

“I agree.” You’re not surprised. Joe is anything and everything, including forever supportive. “Ya’ll are gonna use my Instagram to do it too.”

“Wait, what?”

“Baby, Jadah doesn’t have any social media, and you don’t need all them damn people on your page, nor do you want that.” He’s right. You hadn’t thought of it that way. “Mariah had an audience. You get one too.” 

Fair. Very fair. “Okay.”

He taps your hip, informing. “I’ll leave you the login info." It sometimes still amazes you how much he trusts you, how easy it is for share so many things with you that are objectively personal. His banking information, his fucking social medias that are literally tied to his career.

It means the world for him to have so much trust in you.

“We’re going to Disney after Mania.” 

Joe is just full of surprises, jumping from subject to subject. “What? I thought we were going for Callie’s birthday.”

“We are, for a second time, but the first time is gonna be that Tuesday after Mania. A day for you and Callie to rest.” 

You’re still trying to settle on the fact that this man is proposing two Disney visits literally back to back when something else hits you. “Wait, the week after WrestleMania? Don’t you have to work?”

“I’ve got it handled,” is all he says, all he offers, all he provides. 

“Joe, what does that even mean? How does that work? How do you just win WrestleMania and disappear right after?” Something’s not adding up. There’s something he’s not telling you, and it pisses you off for a lot of reasons, but mostly because you just hate being kept in the dark. “Is it being written into the storyline or—”

“I’ve got it handled, okay?” His tone is exasperated, which you find ironic considering you’re the one on the receiving end of his vague ass answers. “Just….trust me.”

That’s a hard one. Not trusting him. That comes second nature at this point, but trusting him and not knowing if whatever he’s handled causes any sort of problems for him. You worry about any hits he might take sometimes because of his decisions that are usually for the sake of you and Callie.

It shouldn’t bother you, but it does, especially because you know how important his career is to him.

“What about you?” That’s your biggest concern. This man has been ripping and running for what feels like months. He deserves a vacation. He needs a vacation. If he’s gonna be off for a couple days at least, why not use them to recharge? “You need to rest too, Joe. I can tell you’re exhausted, baby. There’s no need for us to go twice. We can just stick with May for her birthday.”

He shakes his head, preparing a guaranteed disagreement. “You’re gonna be five months pregnant by then. You don’t need to be walking around a damn amusement park while that far along. I don’t know if you’ll even want to.”

“Baby, trust me when I tell you, I could be nine months pregnant, and I’m still going to waddle my big ass around that park. I’m fighting any kid that tries to get in my or Callie’s way.”

He shakes his head, muttering, “the May visit might not happen if your ass gets us banned.”

“I can behave,” you murmur, recognizing you’re being a bit dramatic. Just a smidge. Disney has been a dream visit since you were a kid, so there's an immense amount of excitement at going.

“And why are we going twice anyway?” Eyes narrowing in suspicion, you realize and point out, “you’re up to something, aren’t you?” He rolls his eyes but says nothing. “You are. Oh my God, Joe, you’ve already done so much for us, we don’t need anything else. I don’t need anything else.”

It’s the truth, too. Going to Disney twice in one year when some people never get to go at all is absolutely not a necessity. No matter whatever he clearly has planned that requires two trips.

Joe looks like he wants to say something but decides against it. Annoying ass. “It better not have anything to do with a damn dog.” He laughs. “Especially with me pregnant now. Two kids under the age of 5 is gonna be a lot in and of itself.” Since you’re already on the subject, you add, “I’ve been thinking maybe my mom can come stay with us a little after the baby is born? So, I can have some help when you can’t be there.”

There’s something in Joe's expression that gives you pause, like he wants to say something but decides against it. “And I mean, I’d be fine with your mom coming too, I just—another adult will be great.” You throw that out, an honest thing, thinking maybe he’s wondering why it always has to be your mom and not more of his side of the family.

Although deep down, you know that’s not it.

“Of course, whatever you want.” He kisses your forehead and moves away to finish getting ready to go.

As much as you don’t want to feel annoyed, you do. This is at least the second or third time you’ve tried to broach the subject of post-baby, and he’s been elusive, borderline dismissive. 

It’s hard to tell if it’s because he’s maybe nervous about something, if he truly doesn’t understand why you’re wanting to discuss this now, or something else, but regardless, it’s annoying.

And you don’t like it.

You don’t like it at all.

———-

Things happen fast in Florida, or maybe it’s just you and the reality show that your life has been the past week or so.

Because one minute you’re celebrating an unexpected but welcomed pregnancy, and the next you’re the subject of major media articles, publications, and news segments. Followed up with being hit up by your boyfriend’s ex-wife, the same wife he had when you first started sleeping with him.

The same woman who you’re anxiously awaiting to ring your doorbell at any minute now.

The silence of the large house doesn’t help either. You're greatly wishing you could be distracted by Callie’s loud singing, running around, laughter, something. But, you asked Alexis to take her out for a few hours for you, not wanting her to be around in the event that things turn ugly.

And that’s a bit of an irrational belief on your part.

You would have never invited her over, accepted her invitation, agreed to even meet with her if there was any thought in the back of your mind that she has any ulterior motives. In a weird twist of fate, you’re both kind of in the same position, the subject of all kinds of public scrutiny. Granted, from what you have seen on social media, majority of the people are on her “side.” Some going even as far as starting and using the hashtag #TeamJadah.

And you can understand that, understand why the public would “side” with the wife versus the mistress, but it’s also based upon a shit ton of Mariah’s lies and smear campaigns that have painted you in such an ugly light.

That’s ultimately why you’ve agreed to this, agreed to this highly uncomfortable team up, because it’s the only and best way to reclaim your voice.

To reclaim your narrative.

The sound of the doorbell ringing literally makes you jump from where you sit criss-crossed on the new expensive ass sofa Joe picked out for the house. It is comfortable though, and for a second, you almost choose to stay in the comfort of the sofa versus answering the door.

But, you know that’s not an option, for Jadah to fly out on such short notice only to be stood up by the other woman.

It’s not a good look.

Clearly.

So with a deep breath and quick mental pep talk, your feet carry you to the door that you unlock and hesitate only a second before opening.

Instantly, you’re hit with two things: the sweet smell of Jadah’s perfume and Jadah herself. Right off the bat, you can’t get over how gorgeous she is. Her deep complexion is absolutely flawless and moisturized as hell, thick eyebrows that frame her almost slender facial shape perfectly. Full lips pulled back into a sly smile. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and thin sleeved top that show off her shape, both slim and thick where it counts. 

She’s as drop dead gorgeous as you imagined her to be. You can’t be attractive as Joe is without someone to match your aura. 

“Well, let no one say Joe doesn’t have good taste. You’re even prettier in person.” 

Receiving compliments from your boyfriend’s ex-wife was also nowhere on your 2024 bingo card, but clearly all projections need to be discarded at this point with how many stunners have happened.

“Thank you.” It’s strange. You’ve always been super good with compliments, taking them at face value, because you know that you’re pretty, always having the high self-esteem to recognize as such. But, hearing it come from her of all people feels a little…..off. Like, she shouldn’t be complimenting you. “Umm, come in, please.” 

She does so, walking and looking around, almost inspecting. “This place is beautiful.”

All of the compliments are throwing you. It’s not what you were expecting. Then again, you’re not sure just what you were expecting. 

“Thanks. Do you…want some water or something?”

She shakes her head, “I’m good, thank you.” Jadah gestures with a manicured finger between the kitchen and the living room. “Preference?”

Shaking your head, you leave that up to her. “Whatever you like.”

She nods and heads into the living room, sitting down on the sofa where you just sat, anxiously awaiting her arrival. Wordlessly, you follow suit, sitting on the sofa opposite of her. 

“Thank you for agreeing to this,” she says, placing her purse on the coffee table. “I know me reaching out must have taken you for a loop.”

“A little.” A lot. But, she doesn’t need to know that. “I—I can understand why. I’m so sorry you got caught up in all of this.”

“One thing you don’t have to do is apologize. For any of this. For anything. From what Joe told me, this girl is just psycho and has some weird obsession with trying to ruin your life.”

Scoffing bitterly, you can’t find a point to disagree with. “That sounds about right….”

No one says anything for a good, solid minute. Or two.

“Okay, why don’t we get the awkward part over.” Her voice takes on a new tone, one similar to boredom and insouciance. “We both dated and slept with the same man. I happened to be married to said man when you started sleeping with him, but that shit doesn’t even matter, cause you already know what our deal was.”

The deal…..

No, you have no idea what the deal was. That’s part of why you’re happy to finally be talking to her, because you have so many questions. Granted, that’s not the reason she’s here in the first place but still.

Your facial expression must give away the confusion because Jadah’s indifferent tone shifts to something else, something more serious. “Y/N…..how much do you know about my marriage to Joe?”

It’s a bit difficult for you to navigate how honest you should or shouldn’t be with her. She’s a stranger for all intents and purposes, but given why you two are now even sitting across from each other, maybe honesty is the best option. “He’s never really said anything about you or his marriage, and I won’t lie to you, it’s not like I’ve made a lot of effort to find out.”

There’s a part of you that still struggles with a level of guilt for the intentionality you had at the beginning of dating Joe to not ask about his wife, to pretend that you didn't see the wedding band on his finger.

Avoidance makes justification a hell of a lot easier. 

She chuckles, gaze settling on her lap. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Joe’s always been a good man. He was probably trying to protect me, protect my privacy.” Jadah shakes her head. “The irony, huh?” She leans forward, hands on her knees. “Alright, we’re doing this.” She seems to be speaking more to herself than anything, and you get it fully. You’re still giving yourself mental pep-talks just sitting across from her. “I’m gonna tell you the truth about us, but I’m telling you now, certain things Joe, even with how much he clearly loves you, may never talk about. Really, it’s years of therapy that’s why I can talk about it now.” On one hand, the warning is appreciated. On the other hand, it only increases your anxiety at whatever you’re about to hear. “I also have this thing where I use dark humor to cope with heavy shit, so just pretend like you don’t notice.”

The conversation with Kaylah in Vegas returns to the forefront of your mind, and you start to feel bad for opening the door for Jadah to have to revisit a clearly painful past. But before you can protest, she starts sharing.

“Joe and I met in college. I was 20, going on 21, and he was 22. He was playing football, I played soccer. I thought he was attractive and vice versa. We had a class together, and I approached him first. Next thing I know, we’re fuck buddies. It wasn’t romantic. We didn’t go on dates. He didn’t want that, and neither did I. It was just sex.” She says it so simply, so casually, and for a second, your mind goes towards comparisons. That’s kind of similar to how it was with you and Joe at the beginning. Just all about sex.

“Well, like two dumb college kids, we were having unprotected sex, and we both know what can happen there. I ended up getting pregnant. And this….this is where shit gets bad, because both his family and my family were of the belief that because we were having a child together that we should get married, so guess what we did?” She rolls her eyes, leaning back into the sofa. “I think that might have been our first mistake.”

A mistake….

Joe has also made a comment at least once or twice insinuating he viewed the marriage as a mistake. Had stated they initially married for the wrong reasons, and hearing the full story, you sort of agree. 

It’s such an outdated belief that two people need to be married in order to have a child.

“We did it, we got married. My family is in real estate, so we moved into an apartment they owned off campus and prepared for the baby. That was really the only time we talked and interacted. When it had something to do with the baby. And looking back on that, I can see now that even if we wanted it to work, it wouldn’t have. I felt nothing for him outside of the fact that we were having a baby together, and I know he would say the same because we discussed as such when we finally decided to get divorced. But, I’m jumping ahead of myself.”

Slowing down would be wonderful, because this is a lot for you to take in and digest. Jadah sounds like she’s essentially stating she never loved Joe, never had feelings for him. And it seems like he felt the same way, like they were only trying to make it work for the sake of the baby and their families.

She’s quiet for a second, and you already know the next thing that’s about to come out of her mouth. “There’s—there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.” Another pause. “We lost the baby. I–I had a stillbirth. I was just about 8 months along. I—grief is so damn weird, because some days I’m okay, and then others, I feel like it just happened.”

Shaking your head, you advise gently, “Jadah, you don’t—”

She lifts her hand, stopping you as she explains, “today….today is an okay day. I’m….I’m good.” And you hope, for her sake, that she’s being honest with both you and herself. The last thing you want is to unintentionally trigger her. “We coped the only way we knew how at the time: avoiding each other and having sex when we weren’t avoiding each other. Both of which were unhealthy, one of which resulted in me getting pregnant again. But, I—I ended up miscarrying.”

That….that you especially weren’t expecting to hear. The loss of one child seems unfathomable, but the loss of two children is just so wrong. Like, it shouldn’t be allowed to happen. No one deserves to experience that kind of grief, and while your heart aches for Jadah, it’s hard not to think mostly about Joe.

To think about how that kind of experience had to have torn him up. How could it have not?

“After that miscarriage is when we tried to make things work, tried to actually be a real couple. It was mostly on my end but also that loss was the first time we actually tried to heal together instead of separate. I did most of the initiating, and I can be honest with myself now in admitting it was mostly because I wanted to try again. I wanted to try to have another child.” Her attention is mostly focused on her lap as she recalls what had to have been one of the most difficult times in her life. “Through therapy, I learned that I thought if I could finally just have a child, my grief would go away. Obviously, that’s not how that works, and I learned the hard way because I did get pregnant again, but I….I also ended up miscarrying again.” 

Words. There are none to properly describe what’s going through your head right now, the emotions all circulating throughout your entire body. Tears brim your eyes listening to this heartbreak. You have such a tremendous amount of compassion and sympathy for the woman sitting across from you.

For the man not before you currently but you’d give anything to be able to hold and hug right now. You had no idea he’s been through so much, lost so much, and yet he still stands tall, forever being your backbone.

Being your saving grace. 

“That was the last time Joe and I were ever intimate,” she continues, dabbing at her eyes. “He refused to touch me unless I got on birth control. Said he didn’t want to see me go through that anymore, and I believe him. But, I also don’t think he could handle another loss either.”

You’re not sure anyone could handle that kind of loss a fourth time. 

“I was the one who cheated first, but it’s hard to call it that when I nor Joe ever really saw our marriage as real. It was legal, yes, but he never loved me, and I never loved him. We had love for each other, but we weren’t in love with each other. And I think the little we did feel was because of our shared losses.”

This almost feels like a discussion that needed to happen in separate sessions, because it’s so much to take in. You’d always wondered about this marriage, wondered what the real story was, but hearing that real story almost has you wishing you would have never asked. It’s just all so heavy.

“And then he started becoming more famous and up there in the WWE. I don’t need to tell you how crazy his schedule can be. I barely ever saw him. We essentially became roommates. He did his thing and who he wanted, while I did my thing and who I wanted.”

It’s hard on you hearing all this, for obvious reasons, but there’s also a part of you that is grieving for different reasons. Grieving what maybe you and Joe could have been if you knew all of this. Knew his wife wasn’t the high school sweetheart turned wife, knew he wasn’t going home and playing house when he wasn’t in your bed. You always just assumed this was the case, the few times you even allowed yourself to think about him being married. It was more toward the end of your relationship as you realized you needed to start being honest with yourself about your relationship with him.

“I know for a fact Joe never initiated a divorce because he felt like it was wrong. Like it was wrong for him to leave me because I couldn’t give him what he wanted, a family. I can’t speak for him, but I’d bet that’s why he didn’t divorce me even when he met you. Because he’s a good man who still felt a sense of loyalty to me because I had tried to give him a child. I just….I couldn’t.”

Your chest tightens at her words. Did she just….. “Joe wanted kids?”

Jadah is quick with the response, reiterating. “He always wanted to be a dad. Even with our first pregnancy, we were both nervous and young, but he told me that he wanted a big family because he came from one.”

It’s getting harder and harder to keep the tears at bay. You hadn’t the slightest clue fatherhood was something Joe always envisioned for himself, something he always wanted. It makes sense, it makes all the sense now why he reacted so strongly as he did when he found out about Callie. The way he looked at you with such love and appreciation on Christmas when you apologized for not getting him anything, the way his eyes fell on Callie is he calmly told you that you already did.

A child. 

You’d given him a child, something he always wanted but could never have.

Shaking your head, you admit aloud but gently, “I didn’t—I didn’t know that.”

“Do you know what Joe told me when we finally realized we needed to just file?” She doesn’t wait for a response, most likely already knowing what your answer will be. “He said he was never supposed to be with me, because he was always supposed to be with you.” A tiny gasp leaves your mouth. “And he’s right. Joe never spoke about me the way he speaks about you, the way his eyes light up, the smile on his face…... He was never in love with me, because his heart was always supposed to be with you.” Any effort to refrain from crying is null and void. “And I’m happy for him. I truly am. I couldn’t give him what he wanted, and that’s okay, because you have.”

Her comforting you is the last thing that should be happening, but it’s exactly what occurs. She reaches over, placing her hand on top of yours.

“Y/N. I don’t hate you. I don’t think you’re a whore who ruined my marriage. That marriage was a sham from the beginning. If anything, I was more upset at you when Joe told me about Calista. I was upset because I wish you had told him from the beginning that you were pregnant. We could have gotten divorced sooner, and he could have finally experienced fatherhood. I could have finally figured out what I want in life.”

Sniffling, wiping at your eyes, “All this time…..I thought that I had been that woman, that I took him from you. That’s why I didn’t tell him about Callie, I thought—I felt like it was wrong, wrong because he was married.” It’s that along with your unaddressed daddy issues, that whole trauma, but while Jadah is relatively open with you about her struggles. You’re just not there yet.

“You can’t take what never belonged to me. I’m able to admit now that I never had Joe, and to be honest with you, I never really wanted him.” She frowns almost, continuing to share more with you than you ever expected her to share. “I wanted to do humanitarian work after college, and I didn’t do that because I was too busy living my life the way everyone said I should. I don’t blame Joe either. I guess I just wish all three of us didn’t have to wait so long to finally have what we wanted.”

In a strange sort of sense, all three of you are victims of some type of circumstances, different in various ways but still victims. 

“Are you….are you happy, Jadah?”

In all that you’ve heard her divulge, a no wouldn’t surprise you. She’s such a strong woman, but in the midst of all this, you getting Joe, Joe having you, where’s her happy ending?

“I’m bisexual.” It’s such a strange first initial response, one that you’re not sure how to reply to or take. Not that you’re judging at all. Good for fucking her. But, where is the relevance?  “It’s not a secret, either. I’ve been out since I was in middle school, but I’ve been in a relationship with this amazing woman for almost a year now, and it’s with her I’ve realized I just tend to form deeper connections with women than men. Especially emotionally. It’s gotta be why I never felt anything for Joe, because we both know that man is objectively gorgeous, insanely sweet, and the D is fire.”

That makes you laugh, the first in the midst of this heartfelt conversation. “You’re not wrong about that.”

“But, she’s amazing, and we’re so happy, so yes, I am more than happy.” Her eyes light up the same way you’re certain she’s seen with Joe when he talks about you. “But, you know what will make me happier?” She announces with attitude and determination. “Getting on Live together and blowing up this bitch whole spot.”

Another laugh that’s followed up with. “I’d rather beat her ass, but this is second best.”

“I mean, we can do that too. I don’t really know how to fight, but I’ll cheer for you on the side.” 

There’s more laughter as you realize Jadah has that dry sense of humor that can have you dubbed over in tears from the humor, meanwhile she’s got a straight face the whole time. 

“I wish, but I can’t be fighting in my condition.”

It leaves your mouth before you even realize what you’re basically confirming, and before you can freak out, scolding yourself for being so insensitive, Jadah is already two steps ahead.

“Seriously? Congratulations!” Her smile is just as genuine and happy as all the outdoors, as she explains. “Y/N, just because I can’t have kids doesn’t mean I can’t be happy for people who can. I know Joe must be over the moon happy.”

“He is,” you answer with a matching smile, hand going to your stomach. “I’m really happy I got to meet you, Jadah. I think….I think we both needed this.”

There was something so healing about all of this, some sense of solace and closure that feels like it’s been provided for the both of you. Her being able to talk this out and be honest about her feelings, and you learning that maybe, just maybe, your relationship with Joe was never wrong in the first place.

Because it was always supposed to be.

“I agree.” She squeezes her hand. “Now, let’s get started on our strategy for this Live, cause I’m ready to shut that ex best friend of yours fifteen minutes of fame down.”

———-

In another life, you and Jadah could have been the best of friends. 

There’s such an ease that comes with talking to her. Not only is she just as laid back as Joe promised, but the bitch is funny as hell. The strategizing your game plan for the Live is filled with her dry humor that almost has you in tears at one point. And it amazes you how someone who’s been through so much can still find it in her to laugh, to still be filled with so much joy.

It’s admirable. 

And maybe there’s a way where you can be friends of some sort, because there’s truly no ill feelings towards her on your end. You’re also almost certain it’s the same for her as well, but right now, the focus is on this Live. 

Well, sort of.

“I definitely think the cool tones will really compliment the white theme of the house. You guys don’t plan to paint, right?”

Joe never mentioned that Jadah is an interior designer, not that he needed or even had a reason to, but it definitely comes in handy considering you have this big ass house to decorate without a lick of knowledge about decorating. 

It didn’t take long to figure out how you’re going to tackle the Live, and you two even got your iPad set up in the kitchen, deciding that’s where you would hold it. She even set up the practice live so you two could familiarize yourself with the layout before actually going live.

So with that out the way, it only took one question from Jadah about designing for her to be assisting you with some options for different rooms in the house.

“No. Joe hasn’t mentioned anything about it.” You then remember. “We are getting a mural painted in Callie’s room. I guess Joe knows someone.”

“Oh, that’s awesome.” She beams, asking, “what’s the mural gonna be?”

Smiling, you answer, “disney. She loves Disney.”

“Y/N…..do you….do you think I could meet her?” She quickly adds, almost as if she’s nervous about even asking in the first place. “I know you probably need to talk to Joe first, but—”

“Of course, you can meet her.” There’s no need to think about it, no need to talk with Joe about it. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to meet her. She’s out with my best friend right now, because I didn’t want her overhearing our Live, but I’d love for you to meet her.”

She seems so moved and appreciative of this. “Thank you.” She motions down the hall, “you don’t happen to have any food, do you?”

Laughing, you answer. “Girl, I was just thinking we need to get this Live done, cause I’m hungry.”

It’s not too surprising on your end. In the past few days, you’ve noticed your appetite increasing, a strange symptom to have so early on in your pregnancy. Annoying, too.

“Well, let’s pig out on snacks, and maybe we can get actual food later,” she suggests. You’re down for that, thinking about asking Alexis to stop and pick something up on her way back to the house with Callie. 

“Sounds good to me.” She then looks around, noticing the speakers located throughout the house. “Do those work?”

Already knowing where she’s headed, you pull out your phone, opening up Spotify and reaching it to her. “What’s the vibe?”

Jadah sucks her teeth, taking the phone. “Girl, you already know.”

She moves her fingers around the screen before music starts to play.

Knuck if you buck boy

Knuck if you buck boy

Knuck if you buck boy

“Oh my god, you taking it way back.” And it’s so appreciated, cause this always has been and always will be your song. It’s aptly appropriate as well.

“We gotta be in the zone.” She’s dancing along the way to the kitchen, tossing you your phone as she walks backwards. “You still remember Princess verse?”

Is water wet? “Don’t play with me.” Making it to the kitchen, you’re barely able to open the cabinet where the snacks are before the verse starts.

Yeah we knuckin' and buckin' and ready to fight

I betcha I'm'a throw dem thangs

So haters best to think twice

Word for word, you don’t miss a beat, and Jadah is right there with you, dancing and playfully twerking to the soundtrack of every middle school fight back in the Y2K era. 

The two of you share a laugh at your silliness as she forages through the cabinet for her preferred snack while you open the goldfish and glance at the iPad. Frowning, you move closer, asking, “why is the screen still on? It’s supposed to be on auto—Jadah?”

She’s distracted, caught between Cheez-Its and Pretzels, answering distractedly. “Yeah?”

“Why does this say we’re live?”

At your question, she answers half-heartedly, “it’s in that practice mode thing, isn’t it?”

That would provide a heavy layer of relief if your eyes didn’t land on the number of the corner of the screen.

The number that reads over 100,000k people are currently watching this live.

“Jadah! It’s fucking live!” She spins around, confused. “Like, we’re on Live!”

“Oh, shit,” she curses, running over and also looking at the screen. “Damn, we are.”

Panicked, you back up to the opposite counter, lecturing, “I thought you said it was in practice mode!”

“I thought it was!” She defends, shrugging and reminding you of her naivety with technology. “You should have never left me in charge in the first place! I haven’t used social media since Tom and I were besties on MySpace!”

“Oh my god.” your hand remains over your mouth as you take in the fact that this thing has just been sitting here, live for the whole wide world to sit and watch.

“I don’t know why there’s so many people here. Were ya’ll just sitting here staring at her fridge?”

“Jadah.”

“It’s a valid question!” She sucks her teeth, pulling out the bar stool and plopping down. “Well, since everyone’s here, we might as well get started.” She reaches for your phone, simply saying “music.”

Believing she’s going to turn off Crime Mob, you hand it to her, but that’s too good to be true. Because instead of silence, you’re hit with Megan Thee Stallion.

I just want to kick this shit off by saying, "Fuck y'all!"

I ain't gotta clear my name on a motherfuckin' thang

“Jadah!”

“I said we were getting started. We need to set the tone.”

“We can’t be playing this kind of music on Joe’s account though.” At least, you think so. You’re not entirely certain what exactly his public image is supposed to exemplify. But, songs about fighting and cussing people out don't seem to align.

However, she waves you off, focusing on the screen. “Hello, everyone, and welcome to this special edition Live. I’m sure most, if not all of you, recognize Y/N, thanks to a basic bitch we’re about to roast alive in this here video.” She gestures to you, and unsure of how exactly to respond or act, you simply offer a sarcastic wave. “But most of you may not know I am because I’m pretty sure there’s only a couple of photos of me online, which is the way I prefer it.” She places one hand on her chest. “I’m Jadah, the infamous ex-wife who apparently hates Y/N and pulled up ready to knuck if you buck, but we’ll get into that later.”

Feeling more comfortable after making active efforts to push away your nerves, you tease, “bet ya’ll didn’t see this one coming.”

Jadah’s face lights up with a mischievous smile. “We figured there’s so much being said about us by this delusional bitch, that it’s time we speak our truth. And I’m just gonna say right now that while we’re doing this to clear up the lies, there are some things we’re not going to touch on because it’s nobody’s business.”

“None of this is really anyone’s business,” you add, the confidence growing by the second. “It’s all really fucked up how we even have to come up here and defend our characters and talk about personal, real life situations. I never wanted any of this, never wanted to have my face be out there, to have my daughter’s face be out there.”

“And that’s the thing, too,” Jadah seems to be feeding off your energy just as much as you’re feeding off hers. “I don’t have any social media at all. I hate it. After today, I don’t plan to ever do anything like this ever again. But, it’s also the fact that people are saying such cruel things about an innocent child that absolutely disgusts me. Like, people are attacking an innocent little girl and saying that it’s in defense of me, which is so insane because none of you know the truth.” She looks over at you, asking, “mind if I start off?”

“No, go ahead, please.”

“Bet.” She claps and announces. “I’m gonna keep this super easy for all of ya’ll. First things first, I have never spoken to that Mariah person a day in my life. Have zero clue who she is. The texts? Never happened. Phone calls? Never happened. Screenshots of said messages? Never fucking happend. Why?” Jadah makes a triangle over her mouth so her voice projects. “Because I don’t fucking know her!”

“More facts: Joe and I were married, yes. We got married when we were like 21 and 22 because I was pregnant, and that’s when people still believed children could only be raised by married couples. That’s the only reason I married that man. We were never in love. Never even dated. We were just horny college kids who didn’t use protection.” 

As strange as it may be, you can tell there’s a bit of hesitation on Jadah’s end before she goes into the next part. “We, unfortunately, lost that child. And experienced some other forms of loss that I won’t get into because it’s very personal, but to make a long story short, we ended up having an arrangement. Essentially, he did what and who he wanted, and I did the same.” 

She pushes some of her hair back, continuing to explain bits and pieces that are still true but protect her from having to lay out her darkest experiences. “I don’t even consider it an open marriage, because outside of us legally being married, we never had an actual marriage. As most of you already know, professional wrestlers have insane schedules, so when I tell you he was at the crib maybe a month out of the year? I’m not even exaggerating. That man was my platonic roommate.”

There’s a small smile on your face as her humor and sass melt into her delivery after carefully maneuvering around the specifics of her personal loss. “Ya’ll are all up in arms, coming after this girl talking about she broke up my marriage, blah blah blah. But, she couldn’t break up what didn’t exist. I never loved that man. Joe is a great guy, but we never loved each other.” She gestures to you with her thumb. “This is who he loves. This is who he has a family with. And the fact that ya’ll can sit there and claim to support him and be a fan while attacking the people he loves blows my mind.”

“So, it goes without saying, Mariah lied her ass off about all of that for clicks and views. She’s a liar. And you can print that in your tabloids.”

“I also wanna clear up some things about her if that’s cool with you?” Jadah nods, and motions for you to have the figurative floor. “I need people to understand that this is somebody who I thought was my best friend, who I’ve called a best friend since I was in kindergarten. Matter of fact, we met because some boy was picking on her, and I went up and pushed him, standing up for her. I’ve always prided myself on being a loyal friend, especially to her. So for her to do all that she’s done to me has been so fucking hurtful and confusing.”

“I found out that she’s been sleeping with my very first boyfriend, the boy I lost my virginity to and dated on and off up until I was in my mid-twenties behind my back since we were teenagers.” You have no intention of stooping to Mariah’s level, but if she wants to lay out your information for public scrutiny, then you damn sure can make sure they know just who they’re believing. Know her character, or lack thereof. “Mind you, he ain’t shit either and he can go fuck himself just as much as she can. Like, it takes two, but here I am calling this girl my best friend, crying and confiding in her about all he’s putting me through, and the whole time she’s fucking him behind my back.”

“That’s so foul.” Jadah looks just as disgusted as you feel just thinking and talking about it. 

“But you know what? As fucked up as that is, that part is well with my soul because I have a man who treats me so damn good, a beautiful daughter, and a loving, supportive family. So, that’s fine. What really fucks with me though, still—” There’s an unplanned pause as emotions get the best of you, just revisiting this subject. “Fuck, I said I wasn’t gonna cry.” Taking a deep breath, you do your best to continue without breaking down in front of the whole damn internet. “What gets me is that this girl who I considered a sister, who I literally made the legal godmother of my child, called DCFS on me, made up horrific lies and stated my child was in immediate danger—”

“Oh my god—”

“They took my baby away from me and placed her with my mother, so I legally could not have any contact with my child or my mom for three days. And that may not seem like a lot of time to ya’ll, but I love my child. She’s very attached to me, and I’m kinda the same. So those three days were torture. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t keep anything down, my chest hurt. I had to hire a lawyer, be interrogated like I’m some criminal. It was awful.” Your attempts to hold back the tears failed epically, and Jadah’s hand is on the small of your back, rubbing in a comforting motion. “And now she’s sold all these personal photos and videos of my daughter to the highest bidder, so now I worry about what kind of fucking disgusting perverts now have access to them. It’s been fucking hell dealing with girl. You all have no idea.”

Up until this point, you’ve made an active, concerted effort to keep your eyes away from the comments, not wanting to lash out or be unintentionally triggered. But, an accidental glance reveals a slew of incoming comments including hearts of all colors. 

It’s then you can’t help but to read a few, also needing to get your shit together. Crying on the internet is something you used to make fun of people for. Now, you’re in the same position.

The comments are a complete 180 from the last time you decided to torture yourself by viewing the public’s general opinion on you. 

There’s a tremendous amount of sympathy, support, and newfound understanding. For both you and Jadah, though, the majority of them seem to be aimed towards you.

A lot of apologies as well.

“And this is the kind of person you all have been deceived by. The only thing she was truthful about is that yes, I met Joe because of her. She won a contest years ago that gave her tickets and backstage passes to a Smackdown show, so she invited me, and I met him that night.” That’s probably the only thing you could ever be grateful to Mariah about, the fact that her letting you be her plus one resulted in you meeting the love of your life. “But, I’m not a whore. Not a golddigger. I’m very intelligent. I got nearly a perfect score on my ACT and my SAT back in high school. I was student body president, homecoming queen, prom queen. You look up Ms. Popularity, and you’ll see my fucking face. I have a bachelor's degree in education, I’m a licensed teacher in my state. Like, I don’t need attention from strangers nor do I want it.”

“And here’s the thing, my daughter is almost five, so I’ve been in the picture. If I was this big attention whore like she says I am, why have I not gone public or made my presence known? The only reason ya’ll even know who I am now is because I was essentially outed, but I don’t want this shit. Joe is famous. Not me. I don’t want that. I just want to live in peace and privacy with my family. That’s all.”

It’s a bit of playing with the truth, insinuating that you’ve been in Joe’s life consistently the past five years, but that’s one of the parts of this that doesn’t need to be shared on the world wide web. 

“We black and educated excellence over here. We don’t need validation from strangers.” Jadah says it better than you can as you continue to blot at your eyes, grateful the tears are drying up. “We need some church in here to lift the spirits.”

“Oh, Lord, what are you going to play now? We are about to get Joe’s account banned.”

She clicks around on your phone before the song starts playing.

We lift our hands in the sanctuary.

We lift our hands to give You the glory.

“You’re so stupid.” This laughter is so good for your soul, it’s the most you’ve done in such a short span in a while. And it feels good. “But why would you pick this damn song, knowing good and well it never ends.” Reaching for the goldfish bag on the island, you open and grab a few. 

“Y/N! Why are you eating? We are in church.”

You give her that ‘girl, please’ look, justifying. “Girl, I’m hungry. It’s snack time, shit.” You’re craving more than a snack, more like a full course meal, but Callie’s snacks will have to do for now.

“Now you’re cussing in church. Don’t drag me to hell with you, whore.” She leans closer into the phone, taunting, “you liked that one, didn’t you, Mariah?”

You almost spit out your food. “Jadah!”

“What? You are a whore. That’s why I pulled up at your house blasting Sideline Hoe by Monica in my 2007 Toyota Camry, wearing my Baby Phat bomber jacket to fight you that one day.” At this point, you’re about to piss on yourself. Jadah’s sense of humor is golden, because she’s saying all this with such a straight face. Never once breaking scene. 

You decide to play along, correcting. “No, it was The Boy Is Mine, remember?”

She snaps her finger. “That’s right. My bad. And then the second fight, it was Jolene. I played that when I snuck in your hospital room at Grey Sloan and caught you flirting with Dr. McDreamy.”

Turning your head, you try your best to hold in your laughter, but it’s impossible. 

And Jadah also breaks a bit, speaking to the phone and viewers. “You see how ridiculous and stupid this all sounds? That’s exactly how stupid majority of the shit that came out of Mariah’s mouth is. I literally just met Y/N for the first time today, this morning. And as ya’ll can clearly see, we good over here. She got her man. I have a wonderful, beautiful girlfriend. Stop being so invested in lives you don’t live.”

You start to add something else when Jadah interjects, “and let me just say this, cause I saw some people having the audacity to say this girl is ugly. Ugly where? The bitch is gorgeous. Look at her!” She gestures to you, adding, “she’s stacked in the front, and it’s sitting in the back. Shit, I would hit that too.”

“Girl, you better stop before they start making up rumors and shit about us all being poly.” Snickering at just the thought alone of that being the latest on the rumor mill, you jokingly coin it prematurely. “Roman’s Harem.”

“Roman’s Hoe House,” she suggests, and you’re nearly in tears from laughter. This bitch is hilarious. “Plot twist, everyone. This was all a publicity stunt for a new season of Flavor of Love featuring Roman Reigns.”

“Jadah, oh my god, stop.”

She lifts her hands to silence you as you lay your head on her shoulder, laughing your ass off. “We will be taking applications following this Live. If you are a woman of color with ass and boobs, please apply. Slim thick girls, ya’ll can apply too with the understanding your chances are a bit slimmer. No pun intended. Skinny girls….maybe try the Bachelor or something.”

“Jadah, you are a menace.” You are dying for her to meet Alexis. They seem very similar in a lot of ways, and it seems like they’d vibe well. Hopefully.

“Y/N, please, I am trying to build recruits for the harem.” She finally cracks, shaking her head and leaning forward to read some of the comments. She then asks you, “should we answer questions?”

That’s an easy pass, though you also know this is your one chance to really show who you actually are versus who you’ve been painted out to be. “Sure. A couple.”

Jadah gets to reading, “uhhhh, okay this one is tame. What’s the sexiest thing about Roman?”

“Jadah, how is that tame?”

“You should have seen the other one,” she mutters. Something tells you that it’s better you didn’t.

“All of him. That’s such a generic, basic answer, but it’s the truth. He’s the full package. Tall, handsome, amazing body. Insanely kind.” Big dick, not that that needs to be shared with the whole world. “I will say though, like, seeing him parent our daughter, how good and patient he is with her. That is immensely attractive. Him being such an amazing dad and partner. That shit is sexy. If you’re grown, you agree with me.”

“You better be grown if you’re watching this Live.” She’s not entirely wrong. Jadah then reads the next one. “What’s something most people don’t know about Roman?”

Looking over at Jadah, you ask, “do you wanna….”

Immediately, she’s shaking her head, admitting, “I don’t know him well enough to really speak on that. Like, we knew each other better in college, but obviously who we were in college is vastly different than who we are now.”

It really does stump you to hear her say that aloud, not that it upsets you, but just the mere fact that you spent so long viewing her relationship with Joe in one way, but in actuality, they were more strangers than anything. 

Strangers only bonded by loss.

“Ummm, a lot, actually.” You finally answer, trying to figure out how or even what to share. “He’s actually very quiet, like, borderline shy. At least when you first meet him. Once he warms up, you see more of his personality. But yeah, it’s fascinating how well Joe encapsulates Roman cause they’re totally different people.” You glance at Jadah, murmuring, “maybe one more.” 

This Live has gone on long enough, and you feel that you and Jadah touched on all the points you wanted and needed to address.

She nods, clearly searching for a good final one. A couple seconds later, she reads aloud. “What’s one thing you’d like to say to Roman’s fans?”

Damn. 

What a final question.

There’s a couple seconds you utilize to gather your words, wanting to articulate effectively and clearly. “That regardless of how you feel about me, please don’t let that change how you viewed him before you even found out I existed. Joe—sorry—Roman, no, fuck that. Joe is so damn passionate about what he does, his work is everything to him, and he does it like he does everything else in his life—with full passion and dedication.” Your eyes are starting to water again from unexpected emotionality. “I’m so proud of him and all he’s done and accomplished, and I know it’s just the beginning, so I’d love for you to continue to support him on his journey.”

“Damn.” Jadah mumbles after a minute of silence. “That was deep. We need another song—”

“Jadah, I swear to God, if you play one more song—”

“You’re going to like this one!”

“I think we’re just about finished anyway.” It’s not a think. It’s a know. Callie’s been gone long enough. You miss your baby. “What—”

Roman’s theme song plays louder than the previous songs Jadah played, and a smile is instantly on your face. “Okay, you were right.” The two of you vibe for a minute, because your man’s song really is an actual vibe.

“Alright,” Jadah laughs. “You all have been a wonderful crowd now, but we’re hungry, so we’re gonna go eat—what are you thinking?”

“Hmmm, maybe Chinese?”

“Good call.” She then focuses on the screen again. “We’re gonna go pig out, listen to some more amazing music and….yeah.” Jadah grabs you and pulls you right next to her, so you can say something too.

“Thank you for listening to our side, the truth, and please be kind. To everyone. Not just the people you know.”

“And don’t forget to send in your applications for—”

“Jadah!”

[seeingivy]

my love, mine all mine

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: HEAVVVYYYYY ANGST. does contain one part where a man is being icky/hitting on a girl in a gross way. viewer discretion advised. protect your peace.

an: ok yall. chapter is named after a mitski song we know it's not good. don't hang me at the stake now.

songs mentioned: my love, mine all mine by mitski

previous part linked here

--

“This is disgusting.” you mutter, as Armin leans over and takes a picture from what might literally be the worst angle ever. 

Connie Springer, human menace, has been sleeping on your shoulder for a majority of the flight to Seattle. And drooling on your hair in the process. You make a mental note to kick his ass when he wakes up for being responsible for the globbed up hair you'll have when you see Eren again. 

“He’s been sleeping for almost the entire flight. And he slept all day before the engagement too.” Armin murmurs, flicking the picture in between his fingers as he waits for it to develop. 

“Typical.” you respond, readjusting so his head falls on your shoulder more comfortably. 

You lean your head against his as he continues to snore against your shoulder, the desperation, the anticipation of what you’re going to do sitting heavy in your head. You’ve run through it a hundred times, the words stringing together in your head. 

You’re staying with Eren for the weekend. His birthday falls at the end, but he’s too busy to see you guys, so you’ll take him out the day after. 

After making ten very aggressive phone calls to the Seattle Aquarium and throwing a nice amount of money their way, they agreed to close off the aquarium for the weekend, so that you and Eren could have it all to yourself. 

So that you could drag him there after he was finished on set and lie down flat on the cold floors to just watch the fish swim above you. So no one else is there when you tell Eren that you still love him, so you’re both surrounded in your own little fishbowl. So that he understands you never did stop loving him. That you won’t ever. 

You pause. The guilt sits deep in your stomach, eats at the smallest parts of your conscience and corrupts it. The desperation, the anticipation - it sits heavy in your mind. But the doubt, the guilt, and the anxiety does too. 

You either get to have Eren forever or you lose him for good. Because Eren is dating another girl and it comes down to something really simple. 

If he likes her more or you. 

“You okay?” 

You look over at Armin and his perceptive blue eyes are peering into yours, his forehead scrunched up near his hairline. 

“I-I have a dilemma, Armin.” 

“Do tell.” he responds, propping his elbow against the armrest and leaning his cheek on his hand. 

“I….I want to do something. But it could hurt someone.” 

He frowns, squinting his eyes at you in confusion. 

“I feel a certain type of way. And I want to tell someone. But being honest means I could hurt someone else. Sh-should I still do it?” you ask, cracking your knuckles between your fingers. 

“Will it hurt you if you won’t say it?” Armin asks. 

Yes. 

It’ll hurt you if Eren goes on thinking that you don’t love him the way you do. That walking away from him wasn’t the biggest mistake of your life. That him pulling away kills you, because all you want to do is keep him close. 

You can’t keep it all in, regardless of what the outcome will be. And for all it’s worth, you have the feeling that when you’ll see him, it’ll get the better of you, that it’ll be a matter of when you tell him, not if. 

“Yes. I-I don’t think I can keep it in Armin. I’ve been sitting on it for a while.” 

He brings his hand down on yours and squeezes. And then his blue eyes are shimmering, in the pale fluorescents of the plane lights, and you can’t help but smile back. It’s surging through you - the want, the need, the love you hold for him. 

And there’s only three more hours till you’re there. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally telling Eren you still love him.” he asks, so nonchalantly as he slides the picture of you and Connie, fully developed, into his wallet as he turns back to you.

“Am-am I that obvious?” 

“I mean. You feel a type of certain way? We’re going to see Eren? It wasn’t that hard to piece together.” 

“No. You’re just perceptive.” 

Armin brings his hand down on yours again, squeezing hard, as he smiles at you - so bright and cheery that it makes you excited. 

“God, ‘Min. Why are you so excited? You’re kind of supporting me being a homewrecker right now.” 

“I-I don’t know. Hyla, I’m sure she’s great and all, but I just don’t think she fares up well to what Eren needs. Not like you do.” 

You can feel your cheeks burning at his admission, the compliment and the implication solidifying in your mind. That Armin, Eren’s best friend, thinks it should be you. That you’re good for him. He’s quiet for a few minutes, sliding through the pictures of Jean and Mikasa - the one’s she posted of Jean and her hugging on the ground, minutes after he proposed. Equipped with a caption, that brings you to tears. 

the one place i’ll always find myself returning. jeanboy, it’s you and me always. 

“What do you think love is, Y/N?” 

“That’s such a loaded question to ask me on a dingy ass flight to Seattle, Armin.” you deadpan. 

“No, no. Just think. What is it?” 

You rack your brain, long and hard. And they all come to mind - your parents, Falco and Colt, Eren, Jean and Mikasa, Levi and Hange. 

Levi and Hange. The love letters Levi wrote to Hange, that he gave you when you wrote invisible string for the vow renewal. Maybe the first time you figured out what love might mean. That it was sharing every little part of yourself and every feeling you’ve had - ecstatic, overwhelmed, happy, sad, bored, and soft. 

“Knowing each other. Love is knowing each other, Armin. And-he’s pulling away. I-I don’t want him to leave because there’s still so much more of him I-I don’t know yet. I could have a lifetime and it still wouldn’t be enough.” you murmur. 

He smiles, leaning his head against yours, as he talks again, his soft voice murmuring into your hair. 

“Eren’s known one thing since he met you. And it’s that he wants you around, wants to know more of you, that you’re the best person he’s met. He picked you to be his co-star, called you almost everyday he wasn’t with you, ran into my room and talked to me what it was like to kiss you after you guys wrote New Year’s day, you’re just it for-” 

“Wait, what? He did what?” 

“Huh? What part?” 

“The New Year’s Day thing. You-you knew that we kissed?” 

“Yeah. He told me and Marco, like fully woke us up. Said that you guys were practicing the kiss after you wrote the song and that we both needed to kiss someone immediately so we could understand how he felt.” 

You snort. 

“I don’t remember it being that way. I like totally froze up when he kissed me the first time. We-we had to do it a few times to get it right.” 

“Well, it’s always been you for Eren. I bet you could aim wrong and he’d still come and talk about how kissing you is divine.” 

“Divine?” 

He freezes up, eyes wide, as he realizes his choice of words. 

“Armin. Did Eren say kissing me was divine?” 

“No. No- we don’t talk about that stuff. It’s- long story, you-you don’t want to know.” 

“No. No, now you have to tell me. We’ve known each other forever, it’s-it’s not weird. Quit being all shy.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Armin! Please. We-I want to know. Please, I won’t tell him and I won’t think much of it.” 

“Okay, well. When I started dating Annie, you and Eren had already been together for like a year. And I wanted…to know how to…” 

“To?” 

“Have sex.” he murmurs. 

You bite down on your lip to avoid laughing and he turns his face, cheeks glowing pink, as he whispers profanities at you. 

“You’re so rude. I’m not talking about this.” 

“No, no! Armin, you’re just so cute.” 

“Quit calling me cute.” 

“Sorry! It’s just. You and Eren are so sweet, you’re like brothers. Giggling like little high schoolers about sex.” 

“We were highschoolers. And you’re acting like you and Mikasa are any different.” 

“Yeah! But you guys know we do that, I just never thought you and Eren talked about this stuff. So what did he say?” 

“No. This is breaking bro code. I’m not telling you.” 

“Armin! Please! You brought it up now it’s going to bother me forever. And-and you and me. We’re cool like that. We can talk about sex because we’re two grown adults.” 

“Y/N.” he responds, in a warning tone. 

“Pretty please! I’ve always wondered what Eren thinks about me because he-he’s so reserved and-and it’ll help me. When I tell him, to-to know how he felt about me. Help me not back out.” 

“You’re annoying. You-you can’t just use that against me to get me to tell you.” 

“Fine. You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

He groans, leaning his head against the chair, and clenches his jaw. And then Armin’s turning his head, voice all quiet as he whispers. 

“You tell another soul and I will kill you.” 

“Okay, okay. I promise ‘Min.” 

“I-I asked him about it. Because Annie and I were going to….I wanted to make it special. And-and I’m not the type to really, really take initiative when Annie does it first but I-I wanted to.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“And then I asked him, like. What it’s supposed to feel like. Having sex for the first time. Because, I mean. Isn’t it awkward? And I had heard it hurts for the girl so-” 

“I’m trying not to like bite down on my own hand right now. You’re like a little angel.” you coo. 

“Shut up. Anyways, Eren said that the first time he-he felt bad. Because it did hurt you and that he just held you after till you felt better. But the second time, he said it was like nothing he ever felt before. That he understood why people do a bunch of stupid shit when they’re in love because it feels divine.” 

You swallow hard. 

“Armin. He-” 

“You’re it for him. I hope I got that through your head. Now just go tell him. And quit making me tell you secrets, you’re breaking every sacred code I have as a man right now.” 

“Okay, okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean to mess with your divine brotherhood.” 

He flicks the top of your head as you link your arm with his and squeeze hard. And flutter your eyes shut, with him on your mind. 

--

“Connie.” 

You reach forward and shake his shoulder, as aggressively as you can, in the back of the car. 

“Connie.” 

He’s slumped over against the window, fast asleep, despite the fact that he slept nearly the entire way here. 

“CONNIE.” 

“Huh?” 

His eyes flutter open, deeply filled with sleep as he registers where he is, holding his hand out to grab you. 

“Con. We’re here. And why the fuck are you so tired?” 

“Shhh.” he responds, pressing his finger to your lips as he tumbles out of the car, leaning the majority of his body weight on you as you both walk towards the house. 

Not Eren’s house, the one you stayed at when Ricky locked you out, but the townhouse on set since Connie needed to be back as soon as possible. You switch positions with Armin, him taking the responsibility of lugging Connie, as you both walk up to the door. 

You nervously reach up to brush the tangles out of your hair and rub the tiredness out of your eyes as you knock on the door, putting on your best smile. 

Eren. 

Or not. The door swings open and a short girl answers, a bored look on her face and a martini glass secured in her hand. Despite the cold weather, she’s dressed up in a mini skirt and her hair is all clipped up in rollers - clearly from a makeup team by the way they’re placed. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Um. I’m Y/N.” 

“Okay?”

“I mean. We’re here to bring Connie back. He-he’s supposed to start filming again today. And we’re visiting for Eren’s birthday.” 

“Oh. Okay fine.” 

She swings the door open as you and Armin hold Connie upright, loose greetings falling out of his mouth as he waves at the twenty people that are in the room, their names falling out of his mouth. They’re all lounging around on the sofas and in the kitchen, heads pushed together in their own conversations or on their phones. 

“Connie. We-where are you supposed to go?” 

“Uh. Right. We-we can just go to my room.” 

He drags you and Armin up the stairs, even more people crowding the area, as you shuffle past and make your way up. Connie shoves you both into his room, the two of you falling on his sofa, as you watch him shut himself in the bathroom immediately. 

“Should we try to find Eren maybe? I think Connie’s like sick or something.” you whisper. 

“Yeah. But it might take a while, there’s like sixty people in here.” 

“I don’t understand how anyone lives here. Lana and Eren staying in a house off set makes way more sense now.” you respond, as Armin pulls you up and you drag yourself through the halls. 

You both amble down, observing the mess all around, as you read the names on the doors. You’re both holding hands, hard, so you don’t lose each other in the bustle of people and the sweat hanging in the air. And nearly six paces down, you find the door with Eren’s name scribbled across the door. Armin lightly knocks as you both peek your heads in, to find Hyla - fast asleep in his bed.

You swallow hard, pushing hard on Armin’s hand, as you both quietly shut the door behind you and walk back down the hallway. 

She’s sleeping in his bed. 

“Let’s just see if anyone knows where he is, yeah?” 

You nod and both push down the hallway again to the crowded room you entered in, nervously watching the swarm of people in front of you and nitpicking on which one to ask. Despite the chill in the Seattle air outside, the inside here is sweltering - the mix of people certainly being a fire hazard and responsible for the itching warmth in the room. 

One of the girls, lazily leaning over the counter, beckons for the two of you to join her, which you awkwardly accept. 

“Who are you guys?” 

“I’m Armin. And this is Y/N. We’re friends of Eren’s, we were looking for him. Is he around?” 

“Ah. Eren and Lana are probably busy with the Bear.” she says, turning her shoulder and snickering with the people around them. 

The bear?

“Well. We’re going to his birthday dinner tonight. You guys can see him then, the bus leaves at like six.” she mutters, shuffling off to the other side of the house and walking away. 

“Okay. Thanks.” you respond, awkwardly rubbing your hands against your arms and turning to Armin. 

Right on cue, loud music starts blaring overhead and you and Armin instinctively reach to cover your ears, Armin signaling that the two of you should just go outside. You both leave the sticky, hot room and walk out, kicking the rocks as the music blares on inside. 

“God. Levi would have an aneurysm if we ever did something like that to the townhouse.” you mutter. 

“I think I had an aneurysm standing in there.” 

“What should we do?” 

“It’s only four thirty. Let’s just…walk and get coffee. It’ll be six by the time that we’re back and we can meet him at dinner.” 

“Okay. Sure.” 

--

Two hours later and you’re seated at the most awkward table, in the history of awkward tables. Maybe even more awkward than the thought of the Thirteenth Disciple of Jesus, Ryomen Sukuna, being at the Last Supper. 

You and Armin are across from the two empty seats - because Lana and Eren are late. Armin’s stuck next to a weirdly rowdy crowd of people, with Connie at the center, who suddenly has a random burst of energy and has been screaming for a better part of the last hour. And on your left, you’re stuck next to Hyla and Myka, who are way too inquisitive for your liking. 

“So like. Can I ask you a question?” Myka asks, leaning into your space. 

You shake the glass of water in your hands, perspiration leaking down your elbow, as you give her a nod. You nervously twiddle with the straw in your mouth, biting it into oblivion as she starts talking. 

“So. I listened to dorothea. And then I listened to lacy. And I was just wondering what happened between you and Historia? Because your song was really sweet but she makes you look like a bitch.” 

You swallow hard. 

“Ah. I don’t know, we used to be really close when we were younger and filming Attack on Titan together and stuff. I think we just grew apart. And-you know. Songs are more about their meanings, I-I don’t think lacy is about me and dorothea isn’t necessarily about her.” 

“Okay but like. What actually happened? Don’t like beat around the bush.” Hyla states, her tone biting as she swirls her own straw through her glass. 

It’s the first time you’ve ever heard her talk, with your own ears. Seen her with your own eyes and interacted with her in the flesh. 

She’s scary. Freakishly high cheekbones, slicked back hair, and siren like eyes that pull back to her hairline. A pointed nose, a sharp jaw - and unlike Lana, there are no soft features, no soft expressions to offset the harshness on her face. 

“She obviously doesn’t like you. And honestly, it’s fucked that she projects onto you so hard. If she wants to be successful, she should just work harder.” Myka states. 

“Historia’s busy, Myka. Got other things on her mind.” she states, making a snipping motion with her fingers. 

“Sorry, what?” you ask. 

“Oh, you know. Scissoring. Because she’s gay.” Hyla states, the ice in her glass clinking against the straw. 

You freeze. And swallow hard to think hard on what to say next. 

A topic that you don’t personally broach, and never have, but one people can’t seem to stop talking about. 

Maybe you’ve had your suspicions. And you push them down and let Historia be. The longing glances at Ymir when she was putting on her harnesses, the way they were attached at the hip - entirely different than the way you and Mikasa were and more like how you and Eren were. 

People suspected. It was a hot topic of conversation, especially after Lacy dropped and the people thought the lyrics were…homoerotic. People were stuck trying to figure out if Historia wanted to be you or date you. 

You don’t comment on that. She’s entitled to whatever she is and trying to figure it out for her does her no service. 

“So what are you going to order?” Myka asks, leaning over to look at the menu. 

“Probably the spicy brisket ramen?” 

“Ugh. Ramen has so much sodium. That’s how you get fat arms.” she mutters, flipping her eyes through her own menu. 

You swallow hard as you shove your face into your own menu this time, probably drawing blood on Armin’s ankle by the way you’re jamming your leg on his foot. He lifts his own menu as well, the two of you whispering behind them. 

“This is what my worst nightmares look like.” you whisper. 

“If he doesn’t show up in five minutes, we’re leaving.” Armin responds, giving you a nod. 

You both drop your menus to find Hyla staring at you two weird, which you two return with less than peachy smiles and lift your glasses to drink together. And right on cue, Eren and Lana are speed walking to the table from the entrance of the restaurant, absorbed in their own conversation. 

Lana takes the seat across from Armin and Eren takes the one across from yours - Lana’s eyes bulging out of her head when she sees the two of you while Eren’s too absorbed in the conversation he’s having with Hyla. 

“Ok, I’m here. Quit whining.” he says, leaning his hand against the back of Hyla’s chair. 

“Only you would be late to your birthday dinner, Eren.” she responds, giving him a smile as she leans forward to kiss his cheek. 

“My birthday is tomorrow, so technically, I’m early.” he responds. 

Lana elbows Eren in the side, which he rolls his eyes at before turning his head back to Hyla, who's pointing at the menu. 

“Eren.” Lana repeats.

“Huh? What?” 

He lifts Lana’s drink on instinct and takes a sip, putting it down as he glares at her. 

“It’s non-alcoholic. Calm down, Lana.” 

“No. Eren.” she responds, grating her teeth as she gestures her eyes over to you. 

And then Eren looks over, his eyes bulging out of his head this time when he sees you. Except his shock goes farther than Lana’s because when he moves his hand off Hyla’s shoulder, he accidentally knocks his glass across the table, the cold liquid drenching the front of your shirt and your skirt. 

“Jesus, Eren. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Myka asks, snickering as she looks down at you. 

Armin’s quick to respond, yanking his jacket off and placing it on your lap, drying the wetness on your legs as Eren stares at the two of you and then immediately turns to look at Lana. 

“Y/N. Armin. What are you guys doing here?” he asks, jaw clenched against his skull. 

“They’re surprising you for your birthday. Such sweet childhood friends you have.” Hyla says, giving the two of you a sickly sweet smile. 

“Um. I-I’m going to go to the bathroom, my clothes are really wet.” you mutter, beckoning Armin to stay as you quickly speed walk to the bathroom with his jacket wrapped around you. 

The second you make it into the bathroom, you shut the closest stall shut and lock the door, hanging Armin’s mostly dry jacket on the ring as you survey the damage. Eren’s drink - bright blue in color - has left a big mark on the front of your white shirt, but is virtually invisible on the black pleats of your skirt. 

You instinctively grab for the tissues and wipe down the front of your shirt, which only makes the stain worse. And you don’t know why - why this entire thing is so humiliating, but you can feel tears burning in your eyes and your throat itching with insurmountable heat - as the stain doesn’t lessen, the blue splotch staying. 

The door swings open and you hear an immediate knock on your door, shiny black shoes visible from underneath the stall. 

“Hey Tinky-Winky. You okay?” Lana whispers, her voice soft as she leans her head against the door. 

“Y-yeah. Just, um. Trying to get the stain out, that’s all. I’ll just wear Armin’s jacket.” 

“Okay. I-I’m waiting for you out here when you’re done, okay?” 

You lift your head to the ceiling, hoping that it’ll push the flaming tears back into your eye sockets as you try to quiet your sniffles and shove Armin’s black denim jacket over your clothes. You open the door to find Lana, sweet Lana, leaning against the door with a smile on her face. 

She looks different. Her cheeks are fuller and rosy pink, her short hair growing out to her shoulders. And you don’t miss the soft bags around her eyes, the tiredness sitting in her frame. She opens up her arms, which you quickly sink into, her hands in your hair. 

“I missed you.” 

“Yeah. I missed you too, La-La.” 

She pulls back, her arms resting against your elbows as she talks. 

“What are you guys doing here?” 

“Surprising Eren for his birthday. We-we missed him.” 

She brings her hand to your cheek, cupping your face. 

“He misses you too. Lots.” she says, giving you a smile. 

You give her a smile back as you wrap your arms around her neck, breathing in her sweet flowery smell, as the door swings open again, only for Eren to be leaning against the door frame. You pull back and look at him - brown hair, green eyes, and no smile - staring back at you. 

“Y/N. You-you’re okay?” he asks, shutting the door behind him. 

“Yeah. Hi Eren. H-happy birthday.”

He breaks a smile - the first one you’ve seen today - and opens up his arms, wrapping them around your frame as he leans down, lips close to your ear. His right hand is firm on your back and the second one is cradling the back of your head, firm around your locks of hair. 

“It’s tomorrow.” 

“I know that, Eren.” 

“Okay, sweetheart. No need to show off.” 

At the sound of your nickname, you’re only wrapping your arms around his neck harder, standing on the tips of your toes, in any attempt to be closer to him. His smooth, laundry smell, his skin soft to the touch, and his hair perfectly tousled against your hands. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hm, Eren?” 

“As much as I like holding you, I am technically trespassing in a women’s restroom right now. I just wanted to see if you were okay.” 

You pull back, nervously reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ears as you nod, giving the two of them a look. 

“Okay so. I’ll go first. Lana, come out like five minutes after. Eren, give it like seven. Not ten, because the timing would be suspiciously perfect.” 

Eren squints his hand at you, his forearms clutched across his chest, as he glares. 

“Or we could all go back together.” 

“No. No, no. That’s weird. Just wait. I-I’ll see you two out there okay.” you respond, giving the two of them a smile and a thumbs up as you push out of the door. 

You nervously duck back to the table, buttoning Armin’s jacket up as you slide in next to him, squeezing his hand under the table when he gives you a questioning look. You shake your head as he gives you a nod, the two of you clear and focusing back on the dinner at hand. 

“Y/N. Are you hooking up with Sukuna? He’s hot.” Myka asks, leaning into your space. 

You spit your water back into your glass as you start choking on the parts that went down, Armin’s hand comforting on your back. 

“Um. No, never in a million years. We’re just friends.” you respond, giving them a smile. 

“The Promiscuous video was really hot. You’ve never looked better.” 

You turn your head to find the guy seated between Connie and Armin leaning over, holding his hand out to you as he talks. He has short black hair and cold, steely eyes. 

“Vinh.” 

You place your hand in his, thrown off by the clamminess, as he smiles continuing. 

“I mean. Some part of it has to be real right? That whole bit where Sukuna’s like on the floor crawling after you walk away, when he pretends to pass out when you blow him a kiss, and when you throw the water on him just to take his shirt off after...you can only fake chemistry like that to some extent.” 

“Ah. I’m an actress. That’s my entire job. And the song is called Promiscuous. We-we obviously leaned into a little bit. It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“That’s music to my ears then.” he says, smiling. 

You know that smile. It reminds you of Ricky. 

“Vinh, stop it. And Connie, you’ve had enough to fucking drink.” Eren says, glaring bullets at the two of them. 

“Eren. Shut the fuck up.” Connie responds, clearly irritated with Eren. The two of them hold their eye contact, for too long, as you look at Armin. 

“Connie. I will beat it out of you again if I have to.” Eren responds, which makes Connie drop his gaze. The group laughs as Eren scoffs, his knuckles white against his glass.

You’re thrown off by the sudden hostility, Eren’s demeanor entirely different from what he was in the bathroom. Granted, he was still a bit off-putting in there, but the fact that he’s…purposely picking a fight with Connie is entirely unlike him at all. 

Connie gets so irritated that he storms off, leaving the table all together, as everyone murmurs what a buzzkill he is.

Connie’s always been the life of the party. Even insinuating he’s a buzzkill is downright ironic. 

“So. How is filming for the movie going? Which one is this again?” 

“Don’t Worry Darling.” Hyla responds, swirling her fork around her plate. 

“I’m really excited to see it, you guys. I’m sure it’ll be great.” 

Hyla twists her straw in between her fingers as she looks in between Lana and then you. 

“Lana Banana.” 

Lana curls up her nose at the term, tilting her head over to look at her. 

“You’ve just been so busy lately. You’re not really looking fit for your part anymore. I think Y/N should take it. Don’t you think, Eren?” 

Eren swallows hard as he looks at you, eyes flitting between you and Lana, as he stays silent. And the beat goes on for too long and no one talks, so you bite the bullet and do it for them. 

“I uh. Don’t have time for that actually. Danny and Sareen lined up a four day only show in New York City for me the week of the Institute Awards. I’m supposed to close for that award show, so I-I’ll have a lot of rehearsals leading up to it.” you respond, dissolving the loaded question so Eren didn’t have to. 

“Well our next movie. You should definitely join, everyone here loves you. Vinh especially.” she says, smiling. 

“Oh! I-I’ll see about that.” 

“Don’t you think Y/N and Vinh would be cute together, Eren? She’s clearly into that whole bad boy thing since she liked Sukuna.” 

“Oh, I don’t-” 

And then Eren’s leaning into her space, lips a few feet away from hers, as he smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear. And then he presses a kiss to the top of her forehead, her cheeks turning bright pink. 

“Do you want to get out of here? Just you and me?” 

She gives him a giddy smile as she nods, putting her hand in his, as he drags her out, arm secured around her waist. He gives Lana a look over his shoulder as he leaves, which Lana ignores as she gives you and Armin bright smiles. 

--

You settle into the bed, Lana at your side, as you reach for your phone. 

you: everything good? 

armin: yeah. connie isn’t even here he like never came back. also his room smells like pop rocks LOL

you: so THIS is why he’s sleeping all the time. 

armin: everything good with you? 

you: yes. i’m sleeping with lana. 

armin: okay. sweet dreams. don’t think about stuff too hard. 

you: speaking of stuff, i don’t think i’m going to do it anymore, armin. 

you: i thought that eren and hyla would be more like…me and ricky. but he actually likes her i think. 

armin: yeah. i think so too, i’m sorry y/n. 

you: our time just passed i guess. better to keep him around as my friend than not at all, right? 

armin: it’ll pass, y/n. it-it goes away. talk to ymir. about hisu. she can help you better. 

You turn on your sheets to find Lana next to you, already sprawled over the majority of the bed, and dead asleep. Her expression looks so tired, her deep breaths indicating that she’s already fully out, despite it only being five minutes since you’ve been here. 

And she looks soft. Her jaw isn’t as sharp anymore, a little bit of fullness in her cheeks, but the same pointy nose. 

It’s pretty. She’s pretty. 

You bury your head into your own pillow as you flutter your eyes shut, trying to will away the image at dinner. Except you can feel it in your space, the thought of them together, like you’re being poked. 

“Y/N.” 

Poke. 

“Y/N. Wake up, sleepyhead.” 

You flutter your eyes open to find Eren, big green eyes staring at you, with his jacket pulled over his head as the source of the aforementioned poking. On instinct, you reach forward and make contact with his nose, which has him falling against the wall and groaning. The sound is so loud that you both look over at Lana, who is unbothered by the sound and still dead asleep. 

You jump up and cup Eren’s hands in your face, fingers soft and feeling for his nose in the dark. 

“Eren. What-what the fuck was that?” 

“You’re asking me that? You’re the one who just punched me in the nose!” he whispers. 

“Are you stupid? I’ve had like three different run-ins with people stalking my house. I-I learned self defense.” you whisper back. 

His face softens and he brings his hands up to where yours are - still resting on his face - as he removes them and drags you towards the door. There’s a jacket on the desk, which he’s holding open for you and gesturing for you to put on. 

“What are we doing?” 

“I-Armin told me you want to take me to the aquarium the day after my birthday. But. I-I can’t. I’m busy but I still want to spend time with you so, let’s go.” 

“Where? It-It’s like almost eleven. Aren’t you filming tomorrow?” 

“Please? It-it’s my birthday? One hour to my birthday?” 

You roll your eyes and nod which has Eren pulling the hood over your hair and carefully zipping the jacket up as he gives you a smile. The two of you tiptoeing through the townhouse as you sneak out. His hand is locked in yours, pulling you hard, as he pockets the keys to one of the cars and drives you out. 

He’s driving along the roads, nearly empty, as the moon shines light on the puddles in the road. The car comes to an abrupt stop at a small house and when you get out, the breeze and the smell of salty air envelopes your nose as you march up together. 

“You have a beach house?” 

“Not mine. It’s a friend’s.” 

You nod as the rocks crunch underneath your feet and Eren pockets his keys, shoving the brass into the door and dragging you in. The lights are open and there’s a decent amount of giggling getting louder as he pushes you through the house, a confused look on his face. 

“Why are you guys still awake?” 

You turn your head to find two people - a guy who can’t be much older than you holding a little boy - frosting cookies over a granite countertop. 

“Eren!” the kid says, shaking his arms and leg in his hold until he’s dropped.

The boy runs over to Eren, wrapping his arms around his legs as he excitedly laughs, the sound so loud it pierces your ears. In a good way. 

“Teddy. Why aren’t you sleeping, little man?” Eren asks, crouching down to pinch at his cheeks. 

The other man, from before, takes your side as he responds to him, giving Eren a knowing look. 

“Nightmare, Eren. I’m Landon, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Ah. The infamous Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” he responds, smiling as he holds his hand out for you. 

“Are you here to play with me, Eren?” Teddy asks, jumping up and down against Eren’s legs. 

“Not exactly. But I do have a friend I want you to meet.” 

Eren looks up, a smile on his face, as he gestures for you to crouch down next to him, Teddy standing in front of the two of you. 

“Teddy. This is my pretty friend, Y/N. Can you say hi?” he says, emphasizing each word slowly. 

Teddy gets embarrassed when you smile at him and immediately buries his face into Eren’s shirt, the back of his neck entirely red as he nervously shakes his head against Eren. 

“Teddy. Just say hi, she’s really nice.” his voice soft, coaxing Teddy to say hi again. 

You smile as he turns his head, brown eyes peering into yours, as he awkwardly shuffles in Eren’s arms, his hands knotted together behind his back.

“Hi! I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” you say, flickering your eyes quickly up to Eren who's beaming at you as he waits for Teddy’s response. 

“I’m Theodore.” he responds. 

“Theodore? Since when do you go by Theodore, little man? Trying to impress someone?” Eren asks, reaching forward to pinch his pink cheeks and lift him in the air, which has him giggling like no other. 

You laugh as the two of them keep laughing together, leaning against the countertop where Landon’s leaning, the half frosted cookies in his hands. 

“So how do you know Eren?” you ask. 

“We have a mutual friend. And he keeps coming around, to play with the kid. Uninvited, mind you.” 

“We’re sorry to intrude. Though, he dragged me here and I had no idea. So it’s his fault.” 

“Sounds like him.” he says, dusting off his hands as he walks over to Eren, scooping Teddy out of his arms. 

“Okay, Teddy. Say bye to Eren and Y/N now. It’s bedtime.” 

You walk up to Eren, who’s hunching down so your faces are close to each other as you both wave bye, the silence filling up the room as you step back and away from Eren. He gives you a soft smile as he places his hands flat on your back and pushes you through the open door, the sand and ocean glimmering under the light of the full moon. 

Eren swipes a guitar case and a blanket off the patio as you both discard your shoes and pad into the sand, a few feet away from where the waves are crashing. Eren hands you the case as he places the blanket flat onto the sand and lies down on it, tapping the spot next to him and beckoning you to join him. 

You cross your legs and sit instead of lying down, his head a few feet away from your knees. His green eyes focused on the moon, shining above, bathing you in the pale light. You open up the case, a beautiful acoustic guitar lying in the case and start strumming aimlessly against the strings, not missing the way Eren smiles at the tune and closes his eyes. 

“Can you sing me something?” he asks. 

“What do you want to hear, almost birthday boy?” 

“Invisible string.” he responds. 

You smile as you switch the chords, fingers strumming against the strings as you quietly sing, watching Eren’s closed eyes and his soft smile. His dimples on display, the freckles underneath his eyes, his soft, soft hair. 

It’s only then that it stings. That you hold all this love, all this big, real love for Eren. That at one point, you felt it together at the same time but that he’s moved long past that. 

As you finish, Eren’s shooting up, swinging the strap of the guitar off of your neck and slipping it around his own. He’s tapping the ground in front of him, beckoning for you to lie down in front of him now, his fingers soft on the guitar. 

“What song is it?” you ask, head turned to the side away from him and focused on the crashing of the waves, how they roll perfectly, rise and fall to crash against the sand. 

“New one.” 

“Hm. What’s it about?” 

“Marco. He-he gave me this Maya Angelou poetry book on my birthday a few years ago, the birthday where you gifted me the vinyl. There was a quote in it that just made me think.” 

“What was the quote?” 

“Just like the moons and the suns, with the certainty of the tides, just like hope springing high, still I’ll rise.” 

The wave rises. And it crashes. Again and again. 

“Sing, Eren. I want to hear it.” 

Moon, tell me if I could Send up my heart to you? So, when I die, which I must do Could it shine down here with you? 'Cause my love is mine, all mine I love, my, my, mine Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love, mine, all mine, all mine 

You shuffle away from the tides to look at him, his eyes focused on the strings and his fingers plucking so softly. Eyes focused on his lips. The lips, that could end you here and now. 

“The moon is blushing up there, Eren. You’re writing love songs about it.” 

“The moon is my muse. I can only write songs about her.” he whispers, his hands making their way to your hair, to tuck your flyaways behind your ear. 

You feel your cheeks burning, the image of Eren - seventeen and whispering in your ear about how you’re his moon, how you have a pull on him - on the forefront of your brain. 

“Y/N. You-you don’t remember what it means?” 

“Huh? What are you talking about?” 

“This.” he responds, his fingers switching to the other side and tucking your stray hairs behind your ears. 

You feel your ears burning, when you remember. The secret signals that you and Eren came up with. And the tucking the hair behind the ears, it’s- it means he wants to kiss you. You shoot up and Eren swings the guitar off, knees hiked to his chest as his green eyes look at you, expectantly. 

“You-you can’t, Eren.” you whisper, the thought of dinner still in your mind. 

“Why not? Do you not want to?” he asks, whispering back. 

“That’s not fair to her. You can’t.” 

“You-you heard me right? Nothing in the world belongs to me, except my love. And-and you're the only thing that's really mine. You-you still do, right? Belong to me?” he asks, his voice wavering. 

“Eren.” 

“Please. Please, I don’t want to beg. Don't make me. Do you still belong to me?” 

He brings his hand up to your face, warm against your cheek, which is ice cold from the biting wind, and you lean into it. The warmth, in his hand, his eyes, his honey sweet voice. 

“Yes. Yes, I do.” you whisper. 

“Y/N. You- don’t get confused. You know what this means right? Us?” 

You give him your best smile and nod, your fingers tingling. It means he still loves you too. 

He leans forward, eyes closed as he kisses you, warm and soft. The sensation tingles all the way down to your stomach, makes your cheeks burn, and your brain prickle. And you relax, the familiarity of this, so delicate, so unchanged from the time he kissed you last that you can’t help but smile into his lips. 

You lean against his shoulder and look up, at the moon above you two, his arms wrapped around you. 

“Moon looks pretty tonight, doesn’t it?” you ask. 

“Always has.” he responds, his lips soft in your hair as the warm tears fill your eyes. 

“Happy birthday, Eren.” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. 

“Thank you, my moon.” he responds. 

And you stay there, to watch the sun rise. On the two of you, together, for the last time. 

--

Eren tucks you back into bed with Lana as the sun peaks up, though it’s a battle in itself. Because Lana’s all starfish on the bed, her limbs tangled over every open space on the bed. But Eren’s rude and he’s just flopping her around, until he makes space, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving. 

And hours later, the sun is sinking down, with Lana nowhere to be found and Armin reading at the couch to the side.  

“Hey.” 

“Jesus. It’s almost sunset, you’ve been sleeping all day. Whatever Connie has is rubbing off on you.” he mutters, reaching over to hand you a water bottle.

“Sorry. I slept late because-” 

Because of Eren. 

You jump up and take the seat next to Armin, excitedly telling him everything that happened last night. And he’s smiling so bright, blue eyes glimmering that you’re both excitedly hugging each other and squeezing hard. 

“Well. He’s been out all day, but he should be back tonight. Let’s go to dinner before we leave,  yeah?” 

You nod, jumping up to the bathroom to get ready, the smile on your face aching your cheeks as you reach for the toothpaste. You peek your head out the door at Armin. 

“‘Min.” 

“Hm?” 

“Do you have toothpaste? 

“There’s some in Connie’s room. Just go grab it.” 

You take your toothbrush and bustle through the hallway, past the crowds of people walking through. You’re lucky you never have to mourn the frat house experience. You’re fairly certain you’re living it right now.

You swing into his room, the smell of candy overwhelming, as you push forward and open the door. Only to find Connie, leaned over the counter, fixing up three lines of white powder with a credit card. 

“Connie. What are you doing?” you ask, your throat burning in your neck. 

He turns his head and his eyes nearly boggle out of his head as he quickly swipes the powder into the sink and the excess on his hands against his pants. He’s smiling, too big, too synthetic as he grabs your hands. 

“Y/N! Nothing! You- it was a joke. It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” 

You swallow hard as he presses you into a hug and the dots connect, your eyes burning. 

Connie’s doing drugs. It’s-it’s why he sleeps all the time and then suddenly has intense energy out of nowhere, why his nose is red, why Eren told him to stop drinking. 

Eren’s words from dinner ring in your head, of how he said he beat it out of Connie, and sit in a bad way. 

Eren beat Connie up for doing this?

You pull back and press your hands to Connie’s face, to take him in. His skin is burning hot to the touch and there are beads of sweat matting his forehead, his entire demeanor so anxious, so jittery and nervous that it sets you off. And all you can think of is sweet Connie, so excited and energetic doing this in his free time that it makes you eyes burn. 

“Connie. Are-are you okay? Why are you doing this?” 

He freezes. And at your words, his entire demeanor changes and suddenly he’s on the floor softly crying, his head in his hands. You join him on the floor and put your hand on his shoulder. 

“Connie. What’s wrong?” 

“I-I just wanted to be the best, Y/N. I wanted to be the lead for once, I-” 

“Connie. You, you’re-” 

“Do you know how fucking tired I am of all of this? I-I can’t do this anymore. You- I’m done. I have to quit, I have to-” he says, shaking in your arms as you wrap your arms around him, tears streaming down your eyes. 

“He couldn’t even let me have this one thing, Y/N. Eren just had to be the best.” he spits out, his chest heaving up and down as he mutters out more words, a long list of profanities directed towards Eren. 

“Connie. You- we can go. Armin and I are leaving in a few hours, you-you should come with us. We-we want to help you.” 

“You don’t get it, Y/N. Wherever I go, this thing follows me. That people know my fucking name when I walk down the street, when I go to the beach, when I’m at the doctor. We’re never getting fucking out of this. This is our life now.” he responds, cheeks straight on your face. 

You reach for your phone on the counter as it buzzes, Armin’s name flashing across the screen. Connie’s still lying down flat on the floor, his tears falling straight onto the floor. 

“Y/N.” 

“Armin.” 

“Are you crying? I-I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding, let’s just go-” 

“It’s Connie. Can you come here? It’s- he’s not okay.” 

“Okay, okay. I’m running.” 

And a few seconds later, Armin’s pushing into the bathroom and his eyes are boggling at the sight of the two of you and his face falls when you explain. And then your phone starts buzzing on the counter, the notifications constant. You lift it and scroll, eyes flitting through the letters. 

mikasa: don’t panic. we’ll figure out a response, okay? 

jean: call us as soon as possible okay? ill kill him next time i see him

nobara: i’ll fly out to see you. are you still in new york?

levi: Call me when you get a chance. Hope you’re okay. Hange is going to talk to him. 

sukuna: On your side. Whatever you do. 

“Y/N. You- there’s something you have to see.” Armin says, dragging you out and handing you his phone. He rushes back into the bathroom to Connie, as you scroll through the tab on his phone. 

It’s a video of Eren and Lana, with chunky headsets and microphones in front of their faces. You recognize the backdrop immediately - one of the WBS’s most popular podcasts, called Life in Love. 

You press the clip and tilt the phone, eyes focused on Eren and Lana as they start talking. 

“The person that you’re most associated with, Eren, is your co-star, Y/N L/N, from Attack on Titan. Can you comment on that, on what it’s like to have your first love be something so public?” the interviewer asks. 

“First love is a funny way to describe it. I-I know that a lot of people like to assume things and we’ve never really said it publicly, but we never did actually date. It was a whole thing we did together, while we were filming Attack on Titan. Method acting.” 

“Can you elaborate?” the interviewer asks. 

“It’s like that thing with Ricky James. I mean, we’re all actors, we’re all part of the entertainment industry. And we do things, pretend a little, to make our art feel more authentic. The reason Y/N and I act so well in Attack on Titan, and win awards from it, is because we do it outside of it too. It’s like we’re acting all the time. You can turn it on and off.” 

“So are you just friends, then? I mean, Y/N has an interesting track record with her own friends, like Historia and Jean and Mikasa that many people have pointed out before. Is that something that you can corroborate? That she’s a good friend?” 

“She’s a good friend of mine, we-we laugh about it sometimes. And as for the stuff about her other friends, you know. You’re in competition and if you have something you really want, you-you’ll do anything to get it. That’s something I can admire. There’s only one person who ends up on a pedestal and if you have to kick people off to get there, that’s what it is.” 

You jump off the bed and rush back into the background, where Armin is crouched next to Connie, his hand on his head. 

“Connie.” 

“Y/N. Hey, you ok-” 

“What were you saying about Eren?” 

“Huh?” Connie asks, eyes deeply lidded and his breaths becoming more labored. 

You put your hands on his shoulders and shake, as aggressively as you can, as the tears stream out of your eyes. 

“What did you mean? What did Eren do?” 

“What he always does. Put himself first. Even if I’m the thing at stake.” Connie mutters, his hands shaking in your hold. 

Armin gives you a pained look as your tears flow harder, your hands still on Connie’s shaking frame. 

“Y/N. Get ready. We-we should leave.” Armin says, hands on his phone as he calls the car. 

“Okay. I-I need a few minutes. And we’re taking Connie with us. I-I don’t care if he gets fired or whatever, he-he’s not staying here, Armin.” 

Armin presses his hands on your shoulder, squeezing hard. 

“I was going to say the same thing. C-calm down, Y/N. Okay? I’ll be back in a few.” 

--

You wait in the kitchen as Armin lugs Connie’s bag down, swirling the glass of water in your hands. Your eyes are focused on everyone in the room, a smaller group, ambling around the room. 

“Hey.” 

“Oh. Hi Vance.” 

“It’s Vinh.” he responds, giving you a smirk. 

“Sorry.” 

He scoots closer to you, his hand firm on your shoulder, as he leans down, a smile spread on his face. 

“So, would you ever think about doing it with me?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Faking it. Except, we can do all the real things too.” he says, securing his hand around your face and leaning closer to your lips. 

You push his hand off as you put space between you two. 

“Why would I ever do that?” 

“Don’t act like you’re above it. Eren, Ricky James. I don’t see how I’m any different. Or if you have any dignity to preserve.” 

You feel your throat dry, at the impact of Eren’s words solidifying in your mind. That him saying that your relationship wasn’t real only furthers all that hate you received after you told everyone the truth about Ricky. 

That you were fake. And it meant now that people were going to start doing it again - start nitpicking every little thing, your relationship with Mikasa and Jean, with Eren and use every mistake you’ve made against you. 

And for guys like this, it’ll just make them think this is okay. That you’re easy, that they’re entitled to what you’ve done for others because you’ve done it before. 

“It-it’s really different.” you respond, running out of the kitchen. 

You quickly duck out of the room as you see Armin dragging Connie down the stairs and make your way over to help him, the itchy, dirty feeling of the interaction you just had being pushed to the back of your mind. 

You and Armin lug Connie to the back seat of the car, letting him lie down flat against the seats, as Armin reaches for the last of the stuff to put into the car. Connie’s still twitching in the seat, eyes pressed shut and sweating. 

You place your hands on both sides of his cheeks, the tears filling your eyes again. 

“Connie. I-I think we should take you to rehab or something, you-you’re not okay.” you whisper. 

He’s quiet, still shaking in your frame as he opens his eyes and looks at you. And the tiredness, the red and the pain mixed together has your heart flinching in your chest, cutting deep. 

“I hate myself for it. I didn’t want to be like this. That asshole who is high when his best friends are getting engaged.” 

“They won’t be mad at you, Connie. We-we understand.” 

“But I don’t understand. I wanted to remember it, Jean and Mika, they-they’re special. I-I wanted to remember it.” he says, his voice cracking as the tears start spilling down his face. 

“Con.” 

“I hate myself for it. I really, really do.” he says, so definitively, so sure of himself that all you can do is squeeze his cheeks in your hands as he falls asleep. 

You brush your fingers through his buzzed hair one last time as you step out of the car, only to see Armin and Eren arguing near the bags by the door. You walk up, which stops them all together, as they both focus their eyes on you. 

“Eren. Can I talk to you?” 

He tilts his head towards Armin, who's still standing there, fists clenched. You give him a nod as he walks away, rolling the rest of Connie’s bags towards the car. 

“Did you want something?” he asks, eyes squinting into yours. 

“Yeah. I-I want to know what happened. You and I- we.” 

“Y/N.” 

You reach for his arm, for his fish tattoo right above his elbow and squeeze. 

“Eren. It-it’s not true, right? There’s an explanation for this? Because we-we can help you. We’re taking Connie and leaving and you should come.” 

“That’s not a good idea.” 

“Eren. Whatever it is, we can figure it out. Just come with me. Or if you need me to stay, I’ll do that too. We can figure out how to tell the truth about it all. I won’t leave.” 

He rolls his eyes, green eyes glaring into yours as he responds. 

“Y/N. What part of what I said was a lie?” 

You swallow hard, the acidic feeling in your mouth burning. 

“Like almost all of it? You and I were real. We loved each other. And we still do.” 

He places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes, as he drawls his voice out, each word stinging more. 

“Do we?” he asks, his look so harsh it stings and the tears rise to your eyes. 

Yes. You do. 

“Yeah. What-what about yesterday? On the beach?” 

He sighs, pushing his hand through his hair as he falls out of your hold, putting space between you two. 

“I asked you if you knew what it meant when I kissed you. You clearly didn’t understand what I was trying to say.” 

“And what did it mean, Eren?” 

“That was a one time thing. For-for fun. It didn’t mean anything like that, I-I was just thanking you for coming down all the way for my birthday.” 

You pale. 

“You and I spent hours talking on the beach. About-about it all and-” 

“We did other things too.” he responds, his voice biting. 

You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, the understanding registering. That you spent hours on the beach talking, but amongst that there were other things you did too. The pale purple on his neck is proof of that. 

“But-but you said all that stuff before. Sang that song, called me the moon and-” 

“You’ve always been into that fluff shit. We always say corny shit like that before we do stuff.” 

You pale, every memory of Eren whispering soft words against your skin as he kissed you souring in your mind. Because of the insinuation that none of it was real. That he just did it because he knew you liked to hear it, not because he meant any of it. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You know. The whole “we’re fish together thing” and the songs and all that.” 

You stare at him, at his forehead crushed up in frustration and his green eyes, cold and soulless as they stare at you. You look down at his fish tattoo, and cross your arms to cover your own, glaring back at him. 

“You’re a fucking liar, Eren. You-” 

“Y/N. I’m a fucking actor. My entire job is to pretend like I like you, do you really think I am so incapable of keeping the act up when the cameras turn off?” 

“It doesn’t make sense. There’s no reason for you to do that.” 

“There is. I want to win Best Actor in a TV Series.” 

“And what does that have to do with us?” 

“Levi said that this role, if I did it right, could make me the fucking best. And you-you had no experience. I had to make sure that you actually liked me so that I didn’t have to carry you in every fucking scene. So that your acting wouldn’t bring me down.” 

"Eren."

"Why did I win an award for the Thank You scene? Because you actually fucking liked me, because you were able to cry and act in the scene. You're a good actor, but you were never that good."

“But what about after? You-we were together when we weren’t filming.” 

“You went on your tour. Got distant. Did I ever once make any effort to talk to you when you stopped? No, I didn’t. You broke up with me on that balcony because your team wanted you to date Ricky James instead of me. Did I stop you? No. You know why? Because who you date doesn’t fucking bother me, not in the slightest.” 

“You knew. We-we understood each other. That’s why we broke up, because it’s fishbowl and-” 

“Who the fuck would be okay with that? Seriously, if it was all in earnest, you think I’d just let you do that?"

“Then why the fuck are you writing depressing ass songs at the Met Gala and then taking care of me after the whole thing went down?” 

“Y/N. You’re so fucking naive. That’s what you have to do. I act on the screen and I make people interested in me after the fact. I write songs about you, make it seem like you’re the one who broke up with me, so that people stream the songs. So that people talk about them. So that they’re popular. And then I save you after the fact, because at the end of the day, you and I still have a show to fucking finish and I can’t exactly leave you out there in the rain, can I?” 

“Eren.” 

“Think about it. After you were good and fine with Ricky, did we keep talking? Did it stay the same? No. I had no interest in putting effort in after that, because I was dating another girl. And I still am by the way.” 

“Eren.” 

“Get it through your head. You- I had to help you. In whatever way I did. Your parents weren’t famous and you had no ins. I have to do something to offset that if you’re my co-star.” 

"No part of real to you? Not even one?"

"It-it's fun to pretend sometimes. But that's all it is, Y/N. Pretending. Faking it."

You feel a hand on your shoulder, squeezing hard, and turn to find Armin, his jaw clenched against his head. 

“Are you serious, Eren? How can you even say that to her?” 

“It’s the truth. She should try it sometime.” 

You choke back a sob, your chest heaving up and down, as Armin lets go and pushes Eren, the irritation sitting in his chest. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you doing this to Connie? To Y/N?” 

“Armin. We filmed one show together when we were kids. Don’t get mad when I don’t have the same loyalty that you all feel for each other. It was fun, but I still have a career outside of it.” 

“Eren. You loved Attack on Titan. And us, you-you wanted to go back to it so many times after we stopped filming and went on hiatus.” 

“Yeah. Because I was in a show that was actually good. Not shitty movies that were flopping. That-that had nothing to do with you guys.” 

“Eren.” 

“You guys should leave. I’ve had enough.” 

Eren reaches for the last bag, grabbing Armin’s polaroid camera on top before pushing the last bag into Armin’s hands. And when he extends his hand to hand Armin the camera, he pulls back at the last second and lets it fall to the ground, with a resounding crack. 

All you see is red.

“Eren. What did you just do?” you ask. 

“My bad. I broke it.” he spits out.

Armin swallows hard as he looks at it, the camera that’s documented every portion of your childhood, every up and down and in between for the past seven years, now broken in his hands. Levi and Hange's vow renewal, every birthday, everyone messing around in between takes and- he just broke it.

You crouch down and put a hand on Armin’s shoulder, his tears falling straight onto the floor, over the camera. And pick up the pieces with him, the jagged edges hard in your hands, as you carry them over to the car. 

You look back one last time, to see Eren with his hands in his pockets, illuminated by the moonlight, you take one last look and sit in the car. And then get in the car and let your tears flow freely. You lift Connie’s head and place it in your lap as Armin puts in the directions. And on your right, your phone buzzes and you pick up. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi! This is the Seattle Aquarium! We just wanted to know what time you would be coming by for your friends birthday tomorrow so we can set up?” 

You swallow hard and hang up, cursing the stupid aquarium and the stupid fish that got you caught up in this in the first place. 

You slide to Eren's contact - the picture of you two staring back at you - and block the number. And make a mental note to get your tattoo removed. 

--

“Hello.” 

“You’ve sat idle for three months now. And I’m not letting you sit around any longer. It’s-you have to defend yourself. This-you’re better than this. They’re making a mess of you.” 

“Let them. Is there really anything I could say to stop them? No and-”  

“Watch the link I sent you. Quit talking back with your shit excuses and remember why you even did any of this in the first place. And then call me back when you’re thinking straight.” 

The line goes flat as the notification comes, the link in your messages. You open it up, a clip of Hange’s getting their triple threat commendation. Their speech, the one that got you involved in all this shit in the first place, ringing in your ears. The only reason you wanted to be a triple threat in the first place. 

To anyone watching at home, in their living room in their rundown pajamas, this is a sign to never ever give up on your dreams. Because that used to be me, and it can be you too. Never let anyone stop you from becoming the triple threat you are meant to be. To let that fire run wild and true and let people see the real you.  

The media made a shit show out of you, in the three months that followed. So much so, that you don’t even show your face in public. Because it snowballs so fast, the entire drama around Don’t Worry Darling, around you and Eren and Hyla becomes the only thing people talk about. 

And the narrative is simple. You're quickly written off into something you’re not. That you faked your relationship with Ricky James and Eren Jaeger for publicity, that you leached off of their fame to be famous yourself. That it’s all you care about. 

Hyla goes on the record and brings up the night you and Eren shared on the beach. And quickly gives you your reputation as a home wrecker, as a people pleasing attention seeker who likes people who puff up her ego. 

People like Jean and Mikasa, like Connie and Sasha - who are still famous and good for your image, but not famous enough to over shine yoU. Not like Historia, who you so quickly discarded and then opened a full on competition with when you released your records. 

That at the end of the day, all you are is a small town girl from Canada, with a sick need to be at the top of the pedestal. To have people clamoring around you, praising you, because of your inferiority complex. That you're easy, that you have no feelings, that you're not even a real person.

The words churn in your mind, the thought angrily swirling with every other feeling. And the push, the support in a moment like this solidifies your plan in your mind. To let that fire run wild and true and let people see the real you.  

The real you. 

you’re right. i’m in. 

on my first flight out. we’re going to bury this asshole in the ground. 

And in the most perfect way, you’ve got the best person at your side helping you. Always known for upstanding honesty, truth, and for digging people into holes when they deserve it. For burying them with art, with carefully chosen words and songs.

It’s what makes her the perfect right hand to your revenge. Historia's always had a flair for the dramatics.

--

next part linked here

an, again: sukuna reputation era? sorry. girls do it better. (im just kidding, he'll be part of the reputation era but our best baby girl historia will be too). there is just something so insane about them ALL using historia as a piece of evidence against y/n and then her being right at her side. also no one hang me at the stake please.

taglist:

@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Lucky Break Chapter 4

Yandere Straw Hats x Fem!Reader

5.8k words

Beginning / Previous / Next

The longest chapter yet, but at least this arc is finally wrapped up!

Just as you thought, you could hear them before you could see them.

“Sounds like they’ve got this covered. I don’t know what you’ve got planned, but I need to go get something that belongs to me. Bye!” Nami slapped you on the shoulder and then diverted from the path you were following.

“Wait, I don’t have anything planned! What am I supposed to do about any of this?!” You called out after her, but she paid you no mind, the woman was on a mission. The light jog you were doing trickled down into a standstill. 

What were you supposed to do?

There isn’t exactly a guide for this, and even if there was, you can’t remember having read it. 

There was yelling and the sound of weapons clashing no more than a block away from you. Wait- That’s it! Weapons! You need a weapon! You can’t just charge into battle and help your new companions empty handed.

But where would you find one? Well, this town is something of a war zone, maybe there’s a weapon lying around? You would settle for even just a kitchen knife at this point. Literally anything to give you some semblance of protection.

Hoping that Luffy and Zoro will be okay until you can help, you scurry down an alleyway. “Come on, come on, give me something,” you mutter under your breath. Your eyes dart around wildly, scanning the surrounding area. There are some stray bricks and broken planks of wood from the buildings being destroyed. That could work potentially, but you decide to look around a little longer.

A structure catches your eye ahead of you. Scaffolding next to a house that hadn’t been finished  yet. A relieved grin spreads across your face. Construction tools! You could use a saw or a hammer or something like that!

There were some crates and tool boxes lying on the ground, all open. The boxes have what appear to be blueprints and building materials. The toolboxes are damn near empty. Some nails and screws litter the bottom of it, plus a couple of tools that won’t help you like a tape measure. 

“Shit!” You kicked the nearest toolbox in anger. What were you supposed to do? Bare knuckle box some armed super-powered pirates? Feeling crushed and frustrated, you drop down into a squat and put your head between your hands, pulling on your hair.

This was so stupid and unfair. You can’t even remember your own name, and now the only people willing to help you are having to fight on their own while injured and you’re helpless to do anything. Why are you even here? For what purpose? What happened to get you to this point?

A rush of air, followed by a clanging noise right in front of you startled you. The shock made you fall onto your ass, scared that you were under attack. A quick once over of the alley revealed that you were still alone. What was that?

Then, a piece of paper flits to the ground just ahead of you. It lands on a coiled piece of metal that you don’t remember being there before. Is that what made the noise? Hesitantly, you reach out to grab the paper. There’s something written on it.

“Lucky”

What an interesting event

Losing your memories was not my intent

To aid in your journey

Please take this urumi 

“A”

Next to the letter “A”, was an ink stamp. One you recognized. You fished out the necklace from under your shirt, and sure enough, the stamp matched it. A jolly roger with a wand clenched between its teeth.

Where did you get this necklace from initially, and how did “A” know about your new nickname? How did they know where you were? You look up at the rooftops, but see nothing and no one. You hadn’t heard anyone approach either. It’s like these things just appeared out of thin air.

Much like you did according to Luffy.

A loud explosion rang out and shook the ground. Oh right! You’re supposed to be in a battle! You clamber onto your feet and pick up the so-called urumi by what you believe to be a handle while stuffing the note into your satchel. If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you have no idea what an urumi is supposed to be. You assume it’s a weapon, but why would a weapon be so… limp?

The “blade”, if you can call it that, unraveled and drooped to the ground. It was like some bizarre love child of a whip and a sword. How was something like this supposed to help you? Is it even sharp? Gingerly, you stroke the edges of the blade. 

“Ow! Okay, yeah, that’s sharp,” just lightly touching in was enough to draw a couple drops of blood. You bring the finger to your mouth, feeling a little dumb now for managing to cut yourself within seconds of getting your hands on this thing. You have no idea how to use any weapon, much less one so unique.

Experimentally, you hold it out and flick the blade away from you. It cuts through the air and cleanly slices through a leg of the scaffolding like a hot knife through butter. The structure shifts slightly, but remains standing.

You can’t help but eye the weapon warily, this thing seems extremely dangerous. Great for dealing with enemies, bad for you if you aren’t careful and don’t know what you’re doing. Which you don’t.

It would be good to go and help your companions now that you’re armed but you want to get a better feel for this thing before charging into battle. Swaying it back and forth is helping to get a better feel for the weight of it, but the method in which you could safely wield it is still beyond you.

“There she is! The liar that tricked and made a fool of us!”

You were so focused that you hadn’t even heard the small band of enemies approaching. Their clothes were torched and skin burned, and they looked furious. With swords raised, they ran right at you, bloodlust in their eyes.

A shriek emitted from your throat, and your arm flailed as you panicked. The urumi’s blade struck the scaffolding again, effortlessly going through several legs before wedging itself into the brick wall. The structure pitched forward and groaned. Your attackers looked up just in time to see the whole thing come down on them. All of them were pinned under the weight of it plus the supplies that had been piled on. Some of the people were knocked out by the falling material, while one was left awake.

He was trapped, but could move his head just enough to scowl at you. “I bet you think you’re really clever! Well you won’t get away with this, Captain Buggy never loses! It’s only a matter of time before he takes your head for this trickery!” Venom dripped from every word, his loathing so tangible that you think you could cut it.

“Not really, I’ve just,” you yanked on the urumi, trying to dislodge it, “got a lot of dumb luck it seems.” And some magical note and weapon giver, but that’s hardly something to bring up in casual conversation. Damn, that thing was really in there. You readjust your grip and pull again. There’s a creak, and then it breaks free. It came loose so suddenly that it made you stumble as the blade flung around you, narrowly missing that one guy’s head.

The man screamed, pulling his head back into the rubble like a turtle retreating into its shell, “Are you trying to kill me?!”

“Weren’t you trying to kill me?!” The double standards up in here were insane. They could gang up on you, but you almost accidentally hit him and now you’re the bad guy? Ridiculous. He fell silent and didn’t answer, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get going.”

Realistically, you don’t think it’s a good idea to be slinging this thing around, especially near Luffy or Zoro, but it was comforting to at least have something now. You examine the urumi closely, contemplating the best way to carry it. There’s a loop on the handle, and you get an idea. 

Carefully, you wind it around your waist and feed it into the loop. Sure enough, it fits together snugly, and now it looks like you have a strange belt on. Alright, you’re feeling a little bit better now, hell you even stopped a few attackers (albeit accidentally).

Now it’s time to actually join the fight.

Well… Maybe you’ll assess the situation first. You just needed to figure out how to do so without being caught unprepared. Getting onto a rooftop could work. The house in front of you had a pretty low roof, climbing onto it shouldn’t be too hard. 

You kick a crate close and hop on. It takes some effort, sure, but you’re able to pull yourself up. The shingles dig into you through the clothes, but it’s hardly the worst thing you’ve been through today. Finally, you can see what’s going on. It looks like there are only four people involved in this fight. There’s Luffy and Zoro, of course. Buggy is also there, seemingly unharmed from the cannon fire earlier. You suppose that isn’t too surprising considering his weird powers. Then there’s also some guy on a unicycle because, sure, why not? 

Zoro and the unicyclist are fighting each other. Zoro is fighting hard, but it’s clear even from your perch that he’s struggling to fight with his injury. Luffy is too preoccupied with Buggy to be able to help him, and you’re positive that you would just hurt him more if you were to charge in with your unwieldy weapon of not-choice.  

What else was there to do? You’re scanning the area for ideas, seeing lots of rubble and injured pirates strewn about. One of which being Richie, who was currently licking his wounds. 

Hang on, you might know what to do now.

A hand digs around in your pants pocket and pulls out the laser pointer you put in there earlier. You don’t know what the range on this bad boy is, but hopefully it’s going to be strong enough for what you’ve got planned. 

Pointing it in the direction of the white lion, you click it on. Lucky for you, it reaches, and a red dot is just ahead of Richie. He doesn’t seem to have noticed it, so you wiggle it around. His head snaps up, and you rejoice on the inside.

He reaches a paw out to it, but you move it away. At first, he’s startled, but then he’s up on his feet and in pursuit. You keep moving it away from him, zipping it around to keep him interested. If you could get him a little closer, you should be able to help Zoro. You doubt that unicycle boy is going to be able to fight well if there’s a lion on top of him.

You risk a glance over to them, only to notice something else. Buggy is using his powers for a sneak attack! Shit! Change of plans, you need to throw him off instead!

Hastily, you move the dot onto his back and pray that Richie goes for it. The lion sees it and pauses, but then he crouches and creeps closer. Yes! Just a little bit more! Come on, Richie! His tail flicks wildly, and he then pounces.

Buggy hits the ground with an indignant shriek. He’s kicking and screaming, “Mohji! Get your damn lion under control!” 

You did it! You helped! Taking another look at Zoro, you see him land a finishing blow to the unicyclist. This is going much better than you would have thought! With that guy out of the way, everyone can focus on taking down Buggy.

Luffy was first to take this opportunity. Buggy had barely gotten back onto his feet after being pounced on by Richie, only to get punched by the rubber captain. The blow sent him tumbling head over heels away from him. Luffy wasn’t about to let up and continued the assault, but Buggy was able to get onto his feet and scramble out of the way of the next blow.

They engaged in a back and forth, each using their unique powers to try and get one over on the other. You tried to use your laser pointer again, but Mohji had Richie’s full attention while he was scolding him for attacking the captain. Well there goes that idea. At least you got it to work once.

You army crawl backwards so you can climb down from the roof, but stop when you notice something red flying right at you.

Oh shit, that’s Luffy!

There isn’t even enough time to brace for impact before the human wrecking ball crashes into the building and brings everything down on top of him, you included. You yelp and fall directly on top of him, disoriented but otherwise fine.

Luffy, entirely unbothered by the whole affair, helps you get up off of him, “Oh hey, Lucky! I was wondering when you were going to get here!” He stood and pulled you with him while readjusting his hat.

“Sorry, I just needed to pick up something first,” your hand drifted down to your new weapon, still getting used to even having one. The presence of one feels so foreign that you can’t imagine you ever carried one in the past.

He waved off your apology, “Don’t worry, it’s basically over already! I’ll finish this here and now!” Luffy bounced out of the crumbled building and got ready to do just that.

“Excuse you! Don’t underestimate me! And why are you talking to my crewmate?!” 

What? No. How could this guy still think you’re still on the same team? That’s not possible. He saw you run to Luffy’s aid with the key you stole from him. Maybe that cannonball did hit him after all and knocked his common sense right out.

“Huh? Lucky is your crewmate?” Luffy’s head tilted to the side, genuine confusion on his face.

Several of Buggy’s pirates piped up, “She obviously tricked you, Captain!”

“No one can trick me! Be nice to our newest member!” Buggy whirled around and actually started scolding them. Is he stupid? What is happening?

“I’m not in your crew! I lied to you so I could try and save him,” you clarified while pointing at Luffy, amazed that this even needed to be said. Luffy immediately accepted this explanation, nodding and winding up to take a swing at Buggy.

“Lucky, please! I know we got off on the wrong foot but-” Buggy’s pleas were interrupted by Luffy resuming the fight.

Carefully, you work on stepping out of the collapsed building, still a little baffled by that exchange. Whatever, no use in overthinking it. There are more important things at hand.

The sound of something heavy being dragged across the ground caught your attention, it was Nami toting a couple of massive bags behind her. She met your gaze and motioned you over, “Oh, good timing. Help me move these!” 

What? No please? Whatever, this is another thing not worth worrying about in the moment. You catch up with her quickly and take one of the bags. The second you do, you stumble. My god this thing is heavy! You do your best to pull it along, “What did you put in here? It weighs a ton!”

“It’s all of that clown’s treasure!” Nami answers happily, eyes sparkling. 

“Why do you need all of this? What would you even do with it?” You’re huffing from the exertion of hauling your bag.

“That’s my business, thank you very much,” she said dismissively. Well then, you guess that’s the end of that conversation. 

“Hey! I see you! How dare you steal from me!” Buggy screeched. A hand holding several throwing knives was flying right at the both of you. Nami screamed, but refused to let go of “her” treasure. Your hand hovered over the urumi, but you hesitated. You really don’t think you possess the skill to slice his hand out of the air.

Fortunately, you don’t have to try, because Luffy’s own hand rockets towards Buggy’s and snatches it out of the air before he can make contact. Your shoulder slump in relief, good thing he’s so on top of this! 

Luffy’s victory doesn't last long, another hand comes up from behind and steals his straw hat. You would think that he would just be happy that he wasn’t stabbed, but no. He looks enraged. You haven’t known him long, but the anger on his face feels wrong.

“Give that back! That’s my treasure!” His voice was so authoritative that you didn’t even question how something as simple as a hat could be considered treasure. Whatever reason he has, it must be a good one if he’s that mad about it.

Buggy begins on some tirade about the previous owner of the hat. Some dude named Shanks? Weird name. Well, to be fair, a lot of the people you’ve met have had strange names. 

You don’t get to listen in on this long, Nami taps you on the shoulder and indicates for you to follow her. You barely take a step before she tacks on, “Bring the treasure!”

After the oh so precious treasure is dragged into the nearest alley, she starts rifling through some boxes. Since she doesn’t appear to be planning on explaining herself, you pipe up, “So… Are we looking for something in particular?”

Nami doesn’t look up from her search, “We need something to stop that guy from coming after us or else I’ll never be able to leave with my treasure.” The explanation was simple and to the point. You pitch in and start looking, too. A net would probably work, but what were the odds of some nets just so happening to be here?

“This’ll work!” Nami springs up and tosses a bundle your way. You catch it, and it’s a coiled up length of rope. You nod, this is a nice alternative to your net idea. She strolls to the entrance of the alley and pokes her head out, “Next time this circus freak splits apart, you and me will tie up the pieces. Got it?”

“Got it,” you conceded. Sounds doable, especially if Luffy is keeping him busy. Sure enough, Buggy splits into a bunch of parts in hopes of confusing his opponent, but you’re not about to let him succeed.

You and Nami spring into action, grabbing airborne limbs and wrapping the ropes around them as tightly as you can. They’re wriggling wildly, and it is admittedly disturbing to be holding disembodied arms and legs, but you don’t give up. Unfortunately, both hands and feet evade you as well as Nami. You can only hope that the two of you were able to apprehend enough parts to make a difference.

Buggy attempts to put himself back together again, and the writhing piles of limbs try to fly back to him, but Nami acts swiftly and throws both into a box and seals it shut. The box rattles, but the body parts are unable to escape. The both of you smile triumphantly.

“What happened?! Where’s the rest of me?!” 

You look over to him, and immediately snort out a laugh. Which then escalates into hysteric laughing. Nami looks at you questioningly, before seeing it too and joining in with her own laughter.

Buggy the clown, the fearsome pirate that’s been talking mad shit since you met, was now nothing but a head with hands and feet. Absolutely nothing else.

Even Luffy was laughing, a pleasant sight after his previous expression. Buggy was still trying to act tough despite the situation, but Luffy was having none of that. He took a couple of steps back, then ran at the incomplete clown and kicked him. He didn’t just go sailing down the street, no, he went clear into the sky and vanished.

“Team Rocket blasting off again,” you mumbled. Then your face scrunched up. Where did that come from?

“Did you say something, Lucky?” Nami asked.

“N-No, that was nothing. I’m just glad that’s over with.”

“You and me both, I hate having to deal with pirates,” she agreed.

The sound of flip flops slapping against the ground was your only warning before being pulled into a group hug. You and Nami were squished against each other and unable to move when Luffy’s arms coiled around you both. He cheered and hopped up and down enthusiastically, “We did it, good thinking guys! We already make such a great crew!”

“I am not part of your crew,” Nami wheezed.

Luffy stopped, loosening his grip a little but not enough for either of you to escape, “Huh? But you said you’d be my navigator.”

“All that I agreed to was a temporary alliance, that’s it,” she clarified while trying desperately to get out of his clutches.

“Are you still gonna sail with us out of here?”

“Sure?”

“Okay, that’s good!” Luffy was content with the answer, however unpromising it may be.

“Where’s Zoro? I haven’t seen him in a while,” you were craning your neck around to try and spot him. Now that you thought about it, you haven’t seen him since his fight with the unicyclist. Was he okay? Did he succumb to his wounds after the fight?

Mercifully, Luffy let go and pointed to where he was, “He’s over there, he said he needed to sleep some more after fighting.”

“What, right in the street?” You asked, thinking for sure that you’re misunderstanding. Obnoxious snores cut through the now silent air, and you realize that you understood perfectly. There he is. Out cold in the middle of the street like it’s the comfiest mattress he’s ever experienced. You know what? You’re not even surprised now that you’re looking at him. This checks out for him.

“Hey, guys, I think we should leave,” Nami threw out, handing the treasure bag you had been hauling to Luffy.

“Why?”

“There’s a mob and they look mad.”

A mob?! Sure enough, rounding the corner of the almost leveled street you were on was a massive angry mob of people. They’ve got torches and pitchforks and everything. They aren’t dressed like the pirates, you think these are the missing townspeople! That’s fine then, you guys just defeated the clown that had been terrorizing them. By all accounts, they should be happy with you. Right?

“Mayor Boodle! What happened to you?!” One of them cried out and ran to him. Oh wow, you hadn’t even noticed him being there. The mayor was currently sprawled out on the street. Unlike Zoro, he did not appear to be sleeping peacefully. If the knot on his head was anything to go off of, it looks like someone knocked him the hell out.

Damage control, you need to do some damage control! And quick!

“Oh him? I punched him,” Luffy interjected, looking rather proud of himself.

“You what?!” You and the townsfolk yelled all at once. Good lord, does Luffy just enjoy concussing people?! Should you be more suspicious about what happened to you?

“Hey! That girl stole my clothes! And paired it with a hideous coat!” An absolutely furious woman in the crowd pointed at you. Oh come on! How many people are going to call you out for wearing their clothes today?!

Luffy laughed, amused and unbothered, “Let’s go!” He reached for and yanked Zoro to his side and motioned for you to support his other side, and the second you picked him up you were running.

“Don’t let them escape!”

The mob surged after you all and were hot on your heels. You’re not sure that you’ll be able to lose them at this rate. 

Luffy took a hard right, leading all four of you down an alley. In the middle of it was a dog. Wait, not just any dog, that’s Chouchou! The dog he helped. You leapt over him, and the second the crowd approached, he switched from quiet guarding to aggressive barking.

Despite their numbers, this did make the people hesitate, buying you enough time to get ahead. Luffy called out a ‘thank you’ to the dog over his shoulder, much to the bewilderment of the crowd. 

The docks were just ahead, you were almost home free!

Nami leapt into her own boat, not wasting a second, and began to set sail. Luffy all but threw you and Zoro into yours. Both of you landed with a thud and Zoro groaned, opening his eyes groggily. He looks around lazily, “Where are we?”

“Back on our boat, we got chased out by an angry mob,” you explained, gently shifting him off of you.

“Why?”

“Because Luffy attacked the mayor,” you shot the assailant in question a dry look, not that he was paying attention.

“He did that to save him, why are they mad about it?” Zoro yawned and tried to make himself more comfortable. You didn’t even know how to respond to that. How do you save someone by punching them?

“Hey, you ruffians!”

Everyone looked to shore and saw the mayor standing there. Well he sure made a quick recovery since you last saw him two minutes ago! You waited anxiously to hear what would be said next. Would he curse you all? He probably doesn’t even know how the final battle went.

“Thank you!”

He’s… thanking you guys? 

Luffy laughed boisterously and waved, “You’re welcome, old man!”

“Wait! Luffy, where is the bag you were carrying?” Nami interrupted the moment, looking around frantically. “Did you forget it?!”

“No, I left it behind for them. They need it more than I do!” Luffy smiled innocently and pointed to where it was left on the docks. The locals were already investigating the bag to see what it was.

Luffy, a pirate, abandoned treasure because he thought the people who chased him out of town needed it more? What kind of a pirate would do something like that? What kind of a person would do something like that? The answer was obvious, you suppose.

A good one.

You looked over at him again, only to see Nami actively trying to drown him. 

“Nami, no!”

—

It took some time to ease the tensions between Nami and Luffy after the whole treasure incident. Time, and Zoro keeping them separated. Fortunately, Nami did eventually relent and agreed through clenched teeth that maybe the townsfolk did need the money.

Luffy had no problems to reconcile on his side, he had somehow already forgiven the attempted murder by the time Zoro pulled him above water.

Nami had set course for some nearby islands with the goal of acquiring a better ship as per Luffy’s request, and after that it didn’t take long for night to come. Nami offered to stay awake to make sure you didn’t go somewhere you weren’t supposed to, which was nice of her.

Getting some sleep sounded nice. At least, it sounded nice in theory. The small boat that you, Luffy, and Zoro were all crammed into didn’t offer much room for stretching out or having personal space. That, and Luffy had chosen to sleep by sprawling across you and Zoro in lieu of a bed. He wasn’t particularly heavy, but he wouldn’t stop moving.

You doubt you had slept for more than a couple of hours before being awoken by Luffy biting your arm, murmuring about meat in his sleep. You awoke with a start and roughly shoved him off of you on instinct. He barely even reacted and simply latched onto Zoro in your absence. Better him than you.

Sleep was unlikely to come to you again tonight. You carefully scoot yourself away from the two, with plans of stargazing until morning. The action didn’t rouse either of them, but it got someone else’s attention.

“Who’s awake?” Nami called out.

“I am, Luffy bit me,” you answered back.

She snickered, humored by your suffering. “Come over here and keep me company,” she yawned, “I’m getting tired.”

Chatting with Nami doesn’t sound like a bad way to pass the time, so you agree and shakily get to your feet. The two boats are tied together to keep them from drifting apart, so the distance isn’t far, but the instability of being at sea made it feel much more challenging than it should be.

Rather than help you by keeping the boat steady or even just offering a hand, Nami merely watched you struggle and didn’t even attempt to hide how funny she found this. Luckily, you were able to get over onto her boat without going overboard. 

“You’ve got some great sea legs under you, huh?” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. 

You stumbled over to where she was seated and plopped down next to her, “I hope you know that I’m staying over here now, I’m not doing that again.”

That got a chuckle out of her, “That’s fine, I told you to come keep me company anyways.” The conversation lulled and you glanced over at her. She was focused on mending Luffy’s hat, carefully stitching the holes that had been put in it during his fight with Buggy. You hadn’t even known it had gotten damaged until you saw him fiddling with it after the little disagreement with Nami. It was surprising to see her offer to repair it considering how mad she had been only minutes prior, but Luffy agreed to let her anyway. 

“So, I’ve gotta ask: How did you end up with those two?” Nami broke the silence, “You don’t really seem like the type to be a pirate.”

“That’s… It’s a funny story, I guess? A short one, too,” you started. “According to Luffy and Zoro, I fell out of the sky, almost drowned, and when Luffy was pulling me over to their boat I hit my head,” you pointed to the bandages on your head for emphasis. Nami had stopped working on the hat and was instead gawking at you.

“I woke up a little while later, and couldn’t remember a damn thing. Not how I got there, what happened, or even who I was. Luffy got the idea into his head to try and help me remember everything, so now I’m traveling with them for the time being,” you finished the explanation. The whole situation was insane, but it felt good to talk about it a little bit.

“What? When did this happen, how long have you even been with them?”

“Since yesterday. I had only woken up a couple of hours before we got to that island back there,” saying that made you realize how much had happened in such a short period of time. It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet.

Nami was visibly horrified by your story. She spared a glance to the other boat, then lowered her voice and spoke to you in a hushed but urgent tone, “How do you know they’re telling the truth?! For all you know, they took you hostage and are hoping to ransom you!”

This was a good point, you had considered the possibility of foul play already, but you couldn’t fully commit to the idea of it. They didn’t seem like bad people to you. Unhinged, yes, but not evil by any means. You mulled over your next words for a minute, “I’ve thought about that, but I think they’re being honest. I mean really, I don’t think Luffy can even lie.” You laughed a little upon remembering the chaos he caused by telling the townspeople about what happened with Mayor Boodle, “Besides, if they were so concerned with getting money from a ransom, why would Luffy have left behind a giant bag of gold? That seems pretty counterintuitive to me.”

Nami still looked unsure, but not as freaked out as she had been. She shot another look at the other boat, a highly suspicious one, but ultimately sighed and went back to working on the hat. “I don’t like that story at all, but I’ll let it go for now,” she muttered.

You fell into another bout of silence. There wasn’t exactly a whole lot to do out here, so you settled for watching her put the finishing touches on the hat. After the last stitch, she pulled the string taut and tied the knot. She cut it and held the straw hat up to her lantern to admire her handiwork. It looked great, she had done an excellent job repairing it. 

“I’m guessing Lucky isn’t your real name then?” Once again, she had been the one to speak first.

“It’s not. Since I couldn’t remember it, Luffy came up with the nickname. He decided that I was “lucky” because he rescued me, so that’s how he chose the name.”

Nami scoffed, “I don’t know that I would call you “lucky” for that, but whatever.” She put the hat aside, and glanced at you briefly before choosing to look up at the stars instead. Her fingers drum against the wood of the ship anxiously for a moment, “Um… If you need to get away from them just let me know. I can drop you off at another island. Those idiots can’t navigate so they definitely won’t be able to find you.”

“Thank you, but that’s okay. I think I’ll stick with them for a while yet,” you answered honestly. They were some strange people, but you couldn’t deny that you found yourself liking them already.

“Suit yourself,” she said. Her disdain for the situation was palpable, but she seemed willing to drop it for now.

The only sounds now were the waves splashing against the boats and the wood creaking with each hit. It felt so quiet, unusually so, as if you weren’t used to it. The place you were before all this must have been very noisy if this makes you feel uneasy. 

But, this was a good opportunity to think over what happened today. Well, yesterday. Falling out of the sky was weird enough, having basically nothing from before this happened was weirder, but the weirdest thing of all was the note and weapon that seemingly manifested out of nowhere.

What was that? Who left it, and how did they know about your amnesia? If they knew you, why wouldn’t they come and collect you? What is there to gain from throwing a weapon at you and leaving you be?

You have so many questions and zero answers, but there is one question that stands out against all the others.

Who is “A”?