#the mood is to go get on a plane and receive a large amount of physical affection and attention before i persh

[feralattentionwhore]

Look, I'm just saying, angry hate fucking, when I'm not expecting it would really do something for my mental health. I don't know what it would do but I guess we'll have to find out together <3

[siriusmydeer]

his bunny

remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: remus sees you tutoring someone before a full moon, and he gets jealous.

word count: 3.1k

warning: fem!receiving oral, pet names, breeding kink, degrading, creampie, choking, penetration, missionary, edging, marking, possession kink, swearing, kissing, mentions of tearing up, mentions of subspace, dom!remus, sub!reader, daddy kink, size kink

a/n: this wasn’t requested but i wanted to write a long smut for 500 followers so THANK YOU. also happy birthday daddy lupin

5:04pm— fuck, you were late.

three hours of incessant tutoring, i mean making amortentia wasn’t immensely difficult but you had top marks in potions so you could’ve been biased. well that was unless you were a fifth year hufflepuff with their head up their own arse.

the only reason you agreed to use your your at liberty time was mainly because mcgonagall bribed you with house points that could’ve meant well later on.

“no— you stir anti-clockwise four times, not clockwise three times.” your teeth were gritted, in a jaw lock as your patience slowly drained because he failed to make such a simple potion yet again. a harsh sigh left your mouth while you to undergo all the steps again and fix the potion and restart it yet again.

“sorry—“ “nope, it’s fine. don’t apologize.” swiftly cutting off the younger boy with the only stoicism you had left. you were tremendously trying to restrain yourself from screaming in his face that he was keeping you from your boyfriend and all you wanted was to be done with this foolish potion.

as you were in the midst of explaining how to put the powered moonstone into the cauldron you heard the mahogany door of the library swing open with a small creak, revealing your agitated boyfriend. his face was flushed, he was angry; due to his low amount of patience and mood control of the week before the brimming moon he so effortlessly dreaded.

you watched his eyes erratically scan the room, eying every student before his narrowed eyes watched your dumbfounded figure, startled by his sudden outburst. of course, you weren’t surprised by his high-temperamental acts that landed right smack in the library but you had made a promise to a professor you had adorned and you were silently trying to create a monologue to reason with your short-tempered boyfriend.

your breath suddenly slows into shallow breaths at the view in front of you. a sharp march in your direction, walking over to your table wondering why you’re in the library with another male, that was not him. your thoughts were barely registering in your brain like a puzzle you had to quickly put together, kyle, the hufflepuff you had been tutoring finally put together in his brain to stir in the correct direction and actually finished the potion error-free.

“y/n.” you heard deep voice of your boyfriend suddenly a meter away from your sat figure on the old wood of the chair. his arms are crossed in a defensive manner, his patience suddenly cut short and anger starting to freely bubble in his tone and body language.

“yes— sorry! i was— am tutoring, erm... kyle, remus, remus, kyle.” your words sputtered by the intimidating tone of your boyfriend, attempting to ease the tension by introducing him to the hufflepuff.

what was usually to come with the full-phase of the moon is recurrent mood swings, immense possessiveness, overbearing jealousy, teeth-gritting impatience and the overflow of sorrow. yes, it was almost maddening how he just assumed anyone with a palpitating heart was interested in you.

on the other hand, it also made you tremendously turned on by his demeanour of wanting to claim you all for himself.

“oh, sorry— must’ve kept you... finished my potion. thanks for the help, y/n.” the boy awkwardly trailed off, remus freezing up at the boy just saying your name.

you were his, and he wanted everyone to know it.

the younger hufflepuff sensing the tension grabbed his satchel as well as his books and giving you a nod on the way out of the library. “remus— i promise, it’s just studying.” the sentence incoherent from the rapid blubbering of your words attempting already trying to ease your boyfriend, standing up and putting your agile hands onto his fit torso.

his body slightly loosening from your delicate touch, but still feeling the swing of his mood suddenly change back into short tempered and angered from another male keeping you from him; feeling the dominating jealously run coarse through his system sensing the feeling of of dominance about to explode through him like a firework.

as we was in a daze, his eyes narrowed onto your figure. you awkwardly shifted confused on what you were suppose to do as he stood there staring at you. in an attempt to create a less tense environment for you both you started to pack your things. your mind putting the puzzle pieces together slowly, preparing you for a long intense night.

his attention quickly snapped on your smaller figure, his whole body being able to hover over you with his slender one. he blinked at you for a moment before carding your fingers together and dragging you out of the library as subtle as possible all the way to the gryffindor tower where his dormitory had been for the last six years.

much to remus’ content, that day was quidditch practice so that knocked out both sirius and james from occupying the dorm. peter had been out with his ravenclaw partner working on a defence against the dark arts essay, which meant his dormitory was completely empty; and free for use.

as soon as the oak wood of the door was closed you were immediately pressed against it; feeling small splinters hit the back of your blouse and the feeling his abrasive fingers squeezing the sides of your throat. your flat adam’s apple bobbing his his velvety palm whilst he held you against the door.

“you’re. mine.” his tone dark and possessive, his face lowering to meet yours to the point you could feel his heavy breath fan over your flushed face; caught off guard from his actions.

“only mine to love, only mine to touch, only mine to fuck.” he emphasized his words as he spoke, his grip growing tighter on your throat feeling the tips of his fingernails graze your skin.

your breath heaving as he continued to keep eye contact slightly intimidating you, your irises blowing out in lust at the tone of his voice. “show me... show me i’m yours.” you jabbered, your voice slightly shaking in a whisper due to his hand restricting your throat but still able to keep a steady breath aside from your exceedingly high heart rate.

he was taken a back by your insist for his dominance amplified by the full moon. your sentence clicked in his brain, his other hand carding through the nape of your hair and the remaining hand holding your throat unapplying all the pressure, eventually pulling your face in his direct view, he was debating on what to do; still afraid that he might go to hard and hurt you.

he opted for the option that pursued him pushing your lips together, feeling your chapstick-coated lips meld into his. continuing his actions but slipping his tongue slip into your mouth, his familiar and comforting flavour bleeding onto your taste buds and the the tinge of mint and strawberry transfusing onto his own tongue.

the male started to squeeze the column of your throat, squeezing the sides emitting an almost incoherent whine from you. the grip he had on your hair was enough to tug you towards his four poster bed. letting your back fall against the made bed and his own body loitering above your own.

his lips were aggressively separated from yours, before you could even muster another whine his lips collided with the side of your neck. feeling his lips suck into your skin, giving little bites as he continuing his marks across the expanse of your neck.

he sat up for a moment to admire his work, looking at your neck in awe of how beautiful you look with his markings. his hands got a hold ripping off both his tie and his dress shirt from his body that was beginning to burn in desire.

he finally got his fingers around your house tie instantaneously chucking the fabric across his dorm, and jerking open your white blouse almost tearing most of the buttons that were sewed into your top in the process.

“remus— my top!” you abruptly cried out at the broken blouse that now lied on the floor. “be quiet.” he demanded, not in the mood to play little games. his lips now suckling against your collar bone, his large hands grazing down your torso and firmly digging into the sides of your waist.

you squirmed at the sudden pressure that was pressed into your sides. his other hand grabbed at your thigh vigorously melding you into his mattress, the other securely wrapping his fingers around the depth of your throat. feeling your pulsating heart through his fingers that had been plummeting in anticipation since your arrived in his dorm.

“daddy— please.” you whimpered, the sudden urge of lechery scathing your nervous system completely, drowning out any other forms of feeling. you wanted him, you needed to feel him.

“awe— you’re begging like the whore you are.” his voice in strict mockery and faux-sympathetic tone, grinning at your squirming figure beneath his own.

“m’sorry- i jus’ i need you!” continuing to plead as his face that was smirking like the cheshire fucking cat. his hand moved from the level planes of your thigh all the way to your bum, kneading the flesh, bound to become scarlet, within his smooth palms.

“be a good girl for once, and be quiet.” remus reprimanded, his tone thick and hoarse; his dominant headspace slowly blurring his vision.

he glanced upon your torso, the gryffindor pride running throughly around his veins knowingly that everyone would see the fuchsia and plum hues that rested prettily on your skin, that everyone would know whom you belonged too; him.

you stared up at his hovering body, his torso moving lower to and his lips beginning to sponge needy kisses to your lower abdomen, then further flipping up the fabric of your hemmed school skirt. ”dirty girl, these f’me?” the boy slurred while smirking, toying with the hem of your red-lace panties.

“mhm, yes daddy.” you feverishly nodded whilst answering your boyfriend. he snapped the red-lace against your navel once, producing a small shock through your body due to his manipulation; ultimately making your need exceedingly more in the time he spent trifling with your underwear.

“please— stop teasing daddy, i need you!” the whine escapes your throat as you spoke in anguish. the feeling of urgency for you boyfriend to touch you was plummeting through the roof as you attempted to restrict yourself from compressing your legs together and rid of the urge between your thighs.

“stop teasing? don’t you deserve it, hm?” he continued to mock at your inevitable squirming, snapping the thong right against your hip bone. hearing the small ‘snap’ that emitted from it following a small whine of need.

his face got closer, nosing at your core than further dragging the red-lace down the planes of your legs; tossing them on the oak wood floor. starting at your thighs splotching small wet kisses continuing whilst he progressed further up.

you began to card your trembling fingers through his fawn tresses, your fingers quivering from expectancy. his lips progressing further up the expanse of your inner thighs continuing to suck small splotches of vermillion on your inner thighs like he previously did across your throat. your body basically screaming ‘i belong to remus lupin!’

his eyes darted towards you once, one of your hands clutched onto his plaid bedding and the other clasping onto his roots; your head was thrown back, eyes rapidly blinking in suspense.

his to tongue made contact with your folds, feeling your arousal glaze his tongue while he constructed figure eight movements. he felt the gasp that was pulled through your lungs, and trifling moans trembling from your from your throat.

you felt remus’ tongue dive into the depths of your cunt, a small shockwave running up the crevices of your spine and settling itself in your belly awaiting for the feeling of pleasure to build.

“s’good daddy, so, s’good.” babbles of praise emitted from your lips as you clutched harder onto his fawn-coloured tresses. 

he continued to lap into your core, hitting sensitive spots that could make your legs mindlessly quiver. “daddy— m’gonna—“ as you were about to notify your boyfriend of your orgasam his lips pulled away entirely.

his own lips were slightly puffed out and wet from your arousal, his face slightly flushed from the dominance that had overtaken him. “y’didnt think i’d let you come that easily, did you?” remus taunted, a smirk making its way into his lips as your legs were starting to settle and the fire that was burnt into your belly had washed away like a small wave only awaiting his tongue more.

“but dadd—“ you attempted to coerce him, before he cut you off. “c’mon bunny, ‘ve got to teach you a lesson now. y’know what happens when you beg like a little whore, hmm?” he reprimanded yet again, whilst sneaking his tendril fingers back towards your thighs that he had previously marked; drawing small little swirls on the flesh of your skin.

he ran a slender finger through your folds once, feeling you spring up a bit in sensitivity. you felt tears prick your waterline in desperation, further feeling a second finger swipe through your arousal once more.

he lowered his face again beneath your skirt, kissing the skin of your navel once before putting his tongue to use: drawing lazy circles upon your clit.

your body started to feel the shockwaves of pleasure build slightly faster from the previous edge that had made your body sensitive to the touch. his abnormally large hands placed both your thighs on the density of his shoulders, pulling your cunt closer to him; his impossible werewolf strength giving him the means for his hands ableing himself to maneuver your whole body in anyway he wanted.

the burn in your lower abdomen is quickly rebuilt, pleasure running thick through your bloodstream. you were immensely fraught if he would let you finish, awaiting for the pleasure to take you in.

you felt him remove his tongue and replace its absence with his ring and middle finger, dragging through your walls that were clenching around his fingers. the sudden shock of being full beyond pleasuring you enough for your eyes to roll back, your back completely arching at his fingers dragging against your g-spot.

“daddy, daddy, please! ‘ve been good, learnt my lesson. i promise!” you jabbered in between moans at his swift fingers that could’ve had you gripping your own tresses if it weren’t for your hands being occupied with remus’ hair and his bed sheets. “let me cum, please let me cum.” gasping in a pleading and dire tone.

you felt suddenly empty again, no contact made with remus as he pulled his fingers from inside your clenched walls and swiping them through his tongue. he began to hover over your quivering body, the burn in your abdomen slowly began non-existent. you began to recoil your body; the same feeling of pricking tears making an appearance on your waterline.

“c’mon puppy, you can’t think your begging will break me now?” his tone condescending at you jutted your lips out with a pout. he ran his thumb across the expanse of your pouted lips once, before rapidly grabbing the nape of your hair forcing his bronze irises with green swirls into your own desperate-pleading eyes.

“if you’re such a good girl, you’ll cum when i say you can.” his tone strict, his hand ripping away from your tresses that began to become mangled from all the squirming you had previously endured from your orgasam pulled from you.

he quickly slotted his fingers around the buckle of his belt, swiftly pulling it off along with the material of his slack pants leaving him adorned in a pair of tight briefs. his hard-on obnoxiously present and intimidating, remus pulled your view up from his cock to his eyes with his thumb and forefinger resting under your almost-quivering chin.

“y’gonna be a good puppy and do what i tell you to, or y’gonna be bad and m’gonna have to punish you again?” remus questioned, seeing you eagerly nod at his question.

he anxiously rid himself of the intolerable tight material of his boxers. “m’little whore, this little skirt on.” he observed running the tip of his cock leaking in precum through your folds again. your body reacting to it extravagantly, additionally sensitive from his previous denied orgasams.

you panted in suspense, eyes widened and your arms grappling upon his scarred forearms that rested by the sides of your flushed face.

his velvet like hand grabbing both sides of your cheeks, jutting your lips into a recurrent pout. he smirked at your vulnerability and imprudence; the lust in your pupils directly for him.

“beg. beg like m’little fucking slut.” he spoke with a necessitated tone. you gasped a bit, suddenly feeling the immense pressure of his hands grappling at your cheeks and his prick slowly entering your cunt.

“please— please daddy, need you. need so you so, so bad. please i’ll— anything daddy, i’ll do anything.” gasping out slightly slurring your words that were mumbled, from his hands grasped on your face ; you felt as as he continued to push into you.

“finally, y’know how to do something right.” then you felt him slowly pulse in and out of you, your cunt hypersensitive feeling the pain and pleasure dance on your clit as his pubic bone rubbed against it with every thrust becoming more aggressive and rough.

from the built pleasure of seeing your writhe underneath him, his cock was ready to be overstimulated in the warmth of your cunt.

“m’little cockslut, doin’ so well f’me. gonna breed you like m’little bitch.” his voice slurred from pleasure as he praised you in the midst of his dominant blurred headspace. the building pleasure in his prick, was moving rapidly as the friction between you both building up briskly from the unabating tension and teasing.

“m’gonna cum, please, let me cum!” your voice rasped from crying out to him, and your gasps filling the empty spaces between your words.

“cum bunny, want you to cum.” his voice was sharp as he grunted, his jaw clenched almost at his point of own release but awaiting you to finish first.

at his que you sputtered out a mix of moans and ‘thank-you’s’ to him, feeling like a bunch of shock waves had warped your nervous system and releasing all of your arousal over remus’ cock. feeling like a bunch of stars at washed over your blurred vision, almost pushing you into further submission of him.

you panted deeply, trying to catch your breath feeling him plunge into your cunt one last time before his release had throughly coated your walls with his cum.

he was heavily breathing whilst he hovered over your quivering body, staying completely inside of you; keeping you full of his cum and clenched around his prick.

“that’s what happens when you’re late, m’dear.”

taglist: @fathermarty @idk-maybe-snape-did-it @kittykylax @terr0rizer @aspiringsloth20 @maddoxsmythologicalmind @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @dear-luna @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

[thefanficmonster]

Stranger In The Crowd

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having recently ended the process of moving, Y/N is rightfully very tired but also very excited for the new chapter of her life. Funnily enough, this new chapter includes a newly formed long distance friendship/crush with a very special person from San Diego.

Requested by @boiled-onionrings Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request and I’m really sorry you’ve had to wait so long for it to be posted but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

I let out a heavy sigh, relieved to finally be at home after such a long day of standing around in the Georgia heat with only a thin layer of fabric to protect my eyes and head from the scorching sun. Yeah, anyone who says that tent did well at protecting everyone under it today is nothing but a liar. I was in a short, strapless white summer dress, the fabric of which barely had any weight and consistency to provide heat of its own yet I still damn near melted. Ok, I’ll admit, some of the roasting heat probably came from the energy and force I put into singing the songs of my band’s new album ‘Starting At The End’. 

The mini concert we held in this large open field was meant as an introduction to the city of Savannah where all the band members - myself included - are actually from but we all moved to the West Coast to pursue our music career. And now that we’ve grown, and the majority of us are married, one of us is a father now as well, we’ve decided to return to our hometown. The decision was so spontaneous and was executed so quickly due to no one objecting to it that it still hasn’t me that I’m no longer in LA. The heat isn’t helping my ‘processing’ process but I’ll get to it eventually. Do I miss LA though? Not sure I do - I think I more miss the people I was closer to while I was there.

Suddenly, as if perfectly timed, my phone dings, notifying me that I’ve received a message. I don’t have to look to know it’s from - there’s only one person I actively text and his name is....

C ~ Your virtual buddy Corpse here, making sure you didn’t die of a heatstroke today. If you did indeed survive, just reply to this message, if not....don’t do anything, I guess.

I can’t help but giggle at the sight of the message. I promised Corpse I’d text him after the concert to let him know I was ok, but the even dragged out for longer than anticipated so I’m guessing he got worried.

How cute.

Me ~ Alive and well, but I do feel like a popped tire of an overloaded truck. Hope that’s a visually appealing description

Corpse and I met on the charity livestream Jacksepticeye organized and invited our band to so we could play Among Us with some of the best gamers and streamers on the internet. It was a huge honor and a ton of fun, definitely an event I’d like to repeat in the near future because I had such a good time and I know all my bandmates did too. We all got acquainted and even became official friends with the gamers that were practically our hosts, Corpse becoming the closest friends I’d earn. That livestream happened months ago and we still text just as consistently.

C ~ Oh I know EXACTLY what you mean. Anyway, as to not exhaust you further to force you into typing, how about you send me pictures to sum up your thoughts and emotions and plans for the evening

This is OUR THING trademark, mine and Corpse’s and no one can take it away from us. It’s a significant element of our friendship that enables us both to understand one another when one of us feels the way I described in my message - a popped tire or a deflated balloon. I’m usually the exhausted one - blame the many shows we do and the many meet-and-greets we organize for our lovely fans. It’s the type of exhaustion none of the band members mind at all, but we definitely need some time to recover from it.

As I go to sit down on my couch, the flower crown I’ve been wearing slips off the top of my head, falling on the floor, creating a soft noise that attracts the attention of one of my many cats - Sasha. She’s the youngest and most curious kitty in the family, always protected by the other four - Luna, Cassie, Silver and Lynn. Those four are far lazier and a lot more disinterested in comparison to Sasha who immediately runs over to see what’s fallen.

I smile to myself, taking the flower crown and undoing it to lessen it by a few stems to make it smaller, all the while being watched by the curious Sasha whose interest is rewarded in the end when I put the now adorably tiny flower crown on her head.

While she still hasn’t shaken the thing off I manage to snap a pic which I send to Corpse who opens it mere seconds after it was delivered. 

C ~ Sasha’s pulling off your aesthetic better than you. Sorry, someone had to let you know

I burst out laughing for two reasons - 1.The message itself, damn it! It’s hilarious; 2. Corpse has learnt the name of each one of my cats and never mixes them up - not even Luna and Lynn who look almost identical. That amount of attention to detail is astonishing and very meaningful to me, it genuinely warms my heart and that may or may not be dramatic but it’s definitely not exaggerated.

Me ~ You think I haven’t caught on yet? 

C ~ Well, if it makes you feel any better you pull off my aesthetic better than I do

He’s referring to the e-girl look I did for one show the band had in downtown LA one night. I was drunk and looking forward to trying new things so I improvised the hell out of my outfit but I apparently looked presentable enough to leave a good impression on Corpse despite the pic I sent him being a bit blurry and being a mirror selfie in the bathroom of the very bar we were performing in. It goes without saying that the mirror was dirty too - had a bunch of writing on it which Corpse said only added to the aesthetic. Looking back on it now I kinda agree, and luckily so did the fans in the comments of that same photo when I posted it on Instagram.

Me ~ Means a lot actually. Nowhere near enough to aid the burn of having a cat pull off cottagecore better than I do, but still helps XD

As if sensing that we’re talking about her, Sasha hops on the couch, poking her head over my phone to look down at the screen.

Now this is gonna be golden.

I take a selfie with my phone in my lap, the camera capturing both me and Sasha at a rather unflattering angle which has me losing my mind laughing when I send the picture to Corpse who immediately sends back a string of cry-laughing emojis.

C ~ I can’t tell which one of you is cuter

Me ~ If that was a compliment, I gotta say I appreciate it greatly

C ~ Just telling the truth ;)

It’s times like these that the butterflies in my stomach remind me just why I’ve started catching feelings for this man despite all the distance between us and despite barely knowing him - he knows me more than I know him but I don’t mind it, oddly enough.

I’m fond of our connection and though I sometimes dream of something more, I’m also content with what we already have considering that ‘something more’ seems rather unattainable as of now.

My phone dings again, clearing the fog of thoughts and presenting me with a new message from Corpse.

C ~ Oh, by the way, look what I got....

That message is followed up by a picture of a ticket. A plane ticket to Georgia! 

While I’m still busy stomaching this and dealing with my quickly rising excitement, he sends another message.

C ~ I hope to catch a The Silver Rays concert while I’m there. Heard they had an adorable frontwoman ;)

My breath catches in my throat as a wide grin spreads across my face. The thought of having Corpse so close to me sends those aforementioned butterflies in my stomach into a raving mood and they practically explode my insides with excitement and joy like I’ve never felt it before. I can’t wrap my brain around the fact that we’re about to go from having an entire country between us, to being just some ways away - him in the audience and me on stage without a single clue of who to look for. That’s part of the excitement though, I guess, part of the guessing game that’s gonna make our meeting all the more interesting.

He’ll be a stranger in the crowd and I’ll be a performer on a stage - seemingly two people who have no relation whatsoever. But damn does it go beyond that: No one has to know how hard I’m falling for that stranger in the crowd.

Me ~ I’ve heard so too, can’t confirm it though

If this is gonna be a guessing game, I’ll flip the tables a bit - I won’t take any guesses. I’ll let the answer come to me. I’ll give the first move over to the stranger in the crowd, let’s see what he does.

C ~ I’ll check and let you know, don’t worry

Not worried whatsoever, Corpsie. I’m not worried at all.

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[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal​

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the  ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

[ladyeliot]

Before we go (Part two)

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your company has sent you to Boston to close a deal on the same day you have the most important date of your life at night in New York. Things get complicated, you can’t return to New York and you have to spend the night in Boston with a complete stranger.

Warning: Fluff.

Word count: 3105

Notes: English is not my native language, sorry for the mistakes.

On many occasions you have asked yourself if it makes sense to live life without love, to go on this journey without ever having fallen deeply in love. There was a time when you thought that without it, life would hardly make sense, but without knowing when and why it stopped being important to you.

You would never have believed the words that would have told you that you would be at eleven o'clock that Sunday night walking the streets of the city of Boston. An idyllic scene for a romantic movie, wandering the streets aimlessly with a stranger would be the perfect plot for any novel ending with a kiss, but it was obvious that it wasn't going to happen.

You were walking beside that young man, called Chris, but even though your body was present, your head was still scheming for solutions. It was impossible to get your belongings until the next morning, when Hackney's lost property division opened at 8:00 a.m., but that didn't matter because you expected to be in New York by that time, so that option was out of the question. The only option was that there was a friendly taxi driver who was willing to drive you to New York for free until you reached your destination. Thinking about it, the drive to New York was about 4 hours, Michael's plane left at 7:00 a.m. from JFK airport, so that gave you a minimum of 3 hours to find the taxi driver.

"We can make it," encouraged the perfect stranger next to you. "We have until 2:00 a.m. to find someone willing to drive you to New York."

"Did you just speak in the plural?" you asked curiously. "You definitely don't have anything better to do tonight."

"Not quite," Chris smiled opening the door to the coffee shop, you had arrived at your destination. "Good evening Perry."

"But what do my eyes see?" he exclaimed stepping out from the bar and offering Chris an energetic hug, "What are you doing here man?"

"You know, I've missed your pizzas mate," he said, pulling away from him.

"I'm glad to hear that," the waiter glanced at you and back at Chris. "The usual table?"

"You know me," he smiled making a small motion with his head for you to pass in front of him.

The atmosphere was cosy, with an industrial feel to it, but you could breathe in the warmth accompanied with a hint of melted cheese, which caused your stomach to work up an appetite. Some of the surrounding tables, who had already finished their dinner, turned their attention to your companion just as you passed, but you didn't ask any questions about it. Your table was somewhat out of sight of the others, tucked away in a small corner surrounded by curious black and white photographs that seemed to tell the story of the city you were in.

"Here you are," the waiter concluded, offering you the letter, but Chris handed it back to him as he received it.

"You know what I'll have," he said, shedding his navy blue jacket.

"All right, a Neapolitan pizza," commented the waiter, making a note on a small tablet in his hands.

You quickly looked at the menu, a bit stunned by the amount of variety of pizzas and burgers that the place had, so you definitely opted to trust the order that your companion had asked for and agreed to have the same as him.

"You guys will have it in a minute," he remarked with a smile. "Enjoy your evening."

"Thanks mate." Chris said before he left, then took a breath, focused his gaze on you and intertwined his fingers. "Alright, are you going to tell me why you need to get to New York tonight?"

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the last thing you wanted to do was tell your sad story to a stranger, no matter how much he was doing his part to help you that night. You opted to shrug your shoulders and perhaps offer a brief description of the situation, without going into too much detail.

"There's someone who needs me to come tonight," you explained, playing with your fingernails, without looking at him, "and that person is leaving first thing tomorrow morning."

"I understand," he said, resting his barrette in his palm. "Then you must get to New York before he leaves."

"He?" you repeated somewhat confused. "I never said at any time that it was a man."

"Oh, I'm sorry, or her," he quickly rectified. "What I do know is that you are probably referring to the person responsible for that mark on your left ring finger."

You quickly averted your gaze to your ring finger, a white mark indicating that you had worn a ring on that finger could be glimpsed. Yes, it was true, you had worn it, an engagement ring, from an engagement that was never formalised. You frowned, you were going to tell him that he had no idea, but at that moment the waiter came back to bring you drinks.

"Water and beer," he said, placing it on the table. "Ah, man, I'm sorry to ask you this, but could you sign a comic book for my niece afterwards? She's in love with you, you know."

Those words caught your attention somewhat, sign a comic book? Was he an illustrator, or maybe a writer? Curiosity again invaded your body, apparently you were not the only person who was hiding information in this strange relationship that had just emerged a couple of hours ago.

"That's for sure my friend!" he exclaimed before you were left alone again.

"What about that?" you asked pointing to the waiter who had just left. "Are you in the comic book business?"

"Something like that," he said playing with the beer bottle, but without answering your question. "And what do you do? What are you doing in Boston?"

"Trying to escape," you said, refilling the glass of water. "I asked first."

"Fair enough," he took a small swig of beer. "Let's just say a lot of my time is acting."

"Actor?" You arched an entirely curious eyebrow. "Theatre?"

"Cinema," he stressed somewhat hesitantly, as if he didn't want to say it out loud.

"And comics?" you pointed to the right again, remembering the conversation with the waiter.

"It's because of one of the characters I play," he explained, playing it down a bit. "Marvel?" he asked hoping your brain would find a similarity.  "Captain America?"

"Sorry, I know the character, yes," you said with a chuckle, as you couldn't find connections between the guy in front of you and what he was explaining, "but to be completely honest with you I don't watch too much TV, or go to the movies, or am much of a comic book fan."

"I have to admit that it's a relief in part," he confessed, picking up the beer bottle again. "Now I know this isn't all a sham to take me out to dinner."

"Excuse me?" you exclaimed with a laugh.

"I'm kidding," he laughed along with you, but at that moment the waiter brought your dinner.

You had to assume that the pizza looked exquisite, and after weeks of eating convenience food, it was a delicacy in front of your eyes.

"So you're in Boston for work?" you asked curiously, breaking your pizza into slices.

"Not exactly," he said hesitantly. "I was born in Boston, I usually come here for seasons, well not here exactly, in Sudbury, it's about forty minutes out of town. But on this occasion I came because tonight was a friend's engagement party."

"And what exactly are you doing here with me?" you asked squinting, very confused at the situation.

"It's complicated," he said taking a sip of beer. "Your turn."

"Okay," you nodded to yourself, taking a breath. "I work for a large multinational in New York, a hub for the finance sector, specifically I'm the head of external relations, so I'm constantly on the road. This morning I was in Boston to close a deal with two new shareholders."

"That sounds very..."

"Boring, I know," you finished his words, over time you had assumed that your life was completely linear, without any extra motivation.

"I was going to say important," he rectified, smiling at you. "Do you like your job?"

The question of the century. How many times could you have asked that question without giving yourself an honest answer.

"Sure," you said without thinking. "Well, I guess it won't be as exciting as yours, but... it's practical."

"Wait, did you just say 'practical'?"

That was the first time during the whole day that you were able to disconnect from your surroundings, forgetting the worries, the problems that were running inside you, it was just you having a pleasant conversation with a person who seemed to show interest in your opinions, in what you thought, a person who listened with interest to your every word. You could hardly remember the last time someone had managed to extract a hearty laugh from inside you, it was nice when he did. The minutes ticked by and you didn't notice that the clock read 00:12am, but when you did, the mood cooled again and you became aware of the situation.

You opted to resume your walk through the streets of Boston, your vigour waning as the time passed, you were no longer so confident that you could carry out your plan, and although Chris was offering you numerous possibilities none of them seemed feasible with the little time you had left.

"It's impossible," you said, raising your arms and stopping in the middle of the pavement. "It's over, it's 1am, I wouldn't make it even if I had a car at my disposal. The only thing that would save me from this situation would be a time machine."

Chris looked at you thoughtfully, with a small smile on his face, which made you wonder what was going through his mind at that very moment. You had discovered that inside him there seemed to be nothing but positivity and answers to all your questions, which unsettled you a little but you also knew it was what you needed most at the moment.

"What?" you asked.

"Come on!" he exclaimed grabbing your arm and guiding you to the side of the enclosure. "It's your lucky night, we have a time machine."

"What?" you asked again, running face first into a public phone.

"It is said that the pay phones in Boston allow you to travel through time," he explained, taking the handset and offering it to you. "It's as easy as dialling the date you want to travel to and you can talk to your past self, tell it everything you need it to do, or not do, thus changing your past." You looked at him amusedly confused, with a quizzical expression on your face.

"Go on, try it! It's fun. I do it every time I come to town."

"Well... I don't really need to call very far, it's enough to get in touch with my yesterday self," you explained taking the handset from his hand and slowly bringing it to your ear.

"Well, let's give it a try then," Chris dialed four digits accompanied by some sounds coming from his mouth that made you smile again. "Beep, bop, beep, bop, bop. Ready! What would you like to say to yourself?"

"Here I go..." you said, encouraging yourself. "Y/N? Hi, it's me... that's you, from the future." You couldn't help but smile and shake your head. "She doesn't believe me."

"Y/N?" he asked curiously finding out what your real name was. "What happened with Adriana?"

"Well, I can't go offering all my details to strangers," you defended yourself somewhat embarrassed at the situation.

"Understandable, in my case Chris is my real name," he laughed and shook his head, which turned your lips into a smile. "Well, it's normal that she doesn't believe you," he shrugged, returning to the conversation. "It happens the first few times. You have to tell her something that only the two of you can know."

"Hm... Y/N?" you thought to yourself. "Oh, remember Mum's blue dress that we loved so much? Remember the last time we tried it on at home, when we were walking down the stairs and it ripped, and we had to get rid of it? We never told anyone what happened, mum thought it got lost in the move to the new neighbourhood..."

Chris was watching you leaning on the payphone with a tender smile on his lips, but you were too abstracted from your surroundings to notice. He realised that he could easily manage to alleviate all the problems that enveloped you even if he hardly knew what exactly they were.

"She believes me," you said, looking at Chris and covering the receiver with your hand, as if there was someone waiting on the line.

"Great," he raised his arms. "Now just tell him whatever you need to tell her."

You took a breath, as if this really was a turning point in your life and you could change the course of things. Your companion paid attention to the words that were about to come out of you in the next few moments.

"Y/N?" you asked through the earpiece. "Listen, I know that tomorrow is going to be a very important day for you, you have a trip to Boston that can get you a big development in the company and you also have a date with Michael in the evening. I'm not going to tell you what you should or shouldn't do, only you can be the only person to make the best decision, but what I am going to ask you is that if you could only choose one of the two things which one would you go with?" you were silent for a moment posing the question to yourself. "See you soon.”

After saying those words carefully you put the phone back in its place. Chris slowly stroked his lips, looking at you thoughtfully, trying to understand a little of the situation you were in at the moment.

"Did she tell you what she was going to decide? Whether to go to Boston or..."

"No," you said, leaning against the pay phone yourself. "She wasn't sure." You looked at him silently. "What about you? Have you decided if you're going to the party?"

"No," he ducked his chin and shook his head.

"You at least have your chance in your hands," you explained, being for the first time during the night the person who was trying to help him. "I think you should go back and be on your way, before I continue to ruin your night.

"The truth is, I missed that opportunity a long time ago."  Just as he had done a couple of minutes ago, you tried to get a glimpse of what those words meant, but neither of us had succeeded yet. "Besides, you're not ruining my night, on the contrary, I've never had a night like this before." He rested his chin on his hand. "So what do you want to do now?"

You let your gaze wander, you knew what you had to do before continuing with the situation, you had never given anything up until the last moment, but this was completely different. After asking your past self that question you had realised one of the most important things you had forgotten over time. It was true that you had been completely in love with Michael, that you thought he was the man of your life and that you wanted to spend the rest of your days by his side. On the other hand, since your childhood you had struggled to get a job like the one you had, to be able to use your full potential in a job that fulfilled you. Those two things were now on your mind, and you had realised that the third of them, perhaps the most important, you were not doing, which was to love yourself, to have time for yourself, to seize the moment, to laugh, to dream, to enjoy life, that was all you were missing.

"I think I know what I want to do right now," you said, nodding to yourself. "Would you have any spare cash? I promise I'll pay you all back."

"Oh, come on!" he said shaking his head and offering you a couple of coins in the palm of his hand.

You took a couple of dollars and inserted them into the pay phone in front of you, Chris provided you with your private space, stepping a couple of metres away from the spot. The phone began to ring, at the same time as your stomach informed you of the nervousness you were feeling, which increased when you heard Michael's voice through the receiver.

"Hi, it's me," you said almost in a whisper. "No, I'm still in Boston. [...] I know, the truth is I've had a setback, I didn't call you earlier because I thought I could work it out. [...] No, I have to wait for the first train to leave. [...] At 6 o'clock in the morning, so... [...] I know. [...] All right. [...] Yeah, I'll call you when I get home. [...] I hope you have a good flight."

Maybe it would be for the best, was fate playing in your favour? All you knew was that you planned to tell him how much you missed him, and that you were willing to fight for him again, but things weren't going the way you thought they would.

"Are you okay?" asked Chris approaching you again.

"Yeah," you nodded, looking into his eyes. "Maybe it's for the best."

The smooth line of your life that night was tapping into a wealth of emotions, evolving from despair, anger, joy and now sadness again, and it was your turn to share them with a perfect stranger.

"Come on," Chris offered you his arm and you wearily took it, walking aimlessly away through the streets of Boston.

To be continued...

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

[cheri-translates]

[CN] S2 Gavin and MC in Chapter 9 - Part One

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from Season 2 🍒

I’m focusing on Gavin and MC, not the plot (because the latter requires extensive time and effort that I can’t spare :’>). So I won’t be explaining certain plot points as I’m unsure of them myself

Do read Ch 2 before proceeding! Otherwise you’ll be completely lost from the very beginning:

MC is in her office looking out for trending topics in the news, and she starts thinking about what Grey Rhino does:

At present, Gray Rhino is one of the most active anti-Evol groups. Its members are found all over the world, and consist of tens of thousands of people. 

Most of the members are normal civilians or Evol victims, and are extremely against the existence of Evol. Every member seems to have a snake-shaped tattoo on their body.

From what I understand, they have a hand in the “Small Syringes”, the missing plane and the train incident from not too long ago.

One of her subordinates from Black Swan, Zehn, gives her a call

She’s tasked him to take note of Gray Rhino’s operations, because she thinks they’re going to act again

But he brings her news of STF instead: Apparently, STF has a new commander, but he’s a mystery since he hasn’t made a public appearance

MC: Maybe he’s a shrewd old man.

MC sighs and decides that she needs to investigate into the commander of STF

At this moment, impatient knocks are at the door. Even before I make a sound, Minor has already pushed the door open, rushing to me with extreme anxiousness.

I frantically hang up, turning my head and glowering at Minor.

MC: Why did you barge into my office?

Minor creases his brows, gesturing at the phone in his hand, mouthing some words to me. 

Minor: It’s-- Bro-- Gavin-- 

MC: Gavin? 

The words subconsciously leave my lips, and my tone is slightly surprised.

MC: Why did Gavin give you a call to look for me?

A voice drifts from the phone in Minor’s hand.

Gavin: Because your phone line was busy.

I was just having a discussion with my subordinate from Black Swan on how to fish for information regarding the commander of STF...

Feeling a little guilty, I hurriedly take the phone.

MC: Looking for me so urgently - is something wrong?

For a while, there’s silence at the other end of the line.

I wait quietly for Gavin to speak. After a moment, his voice returns.

Gavin: MC, has... anything happened to you lately?

This question is very abrupt, and I find it slightly odd. Thinking that Gavin is asking about the “Small Syringes” incident, I respond.

MC: Nothing’s wrong. I occasionally get strange harassment calls... but the rumours of the company being involved in prohibited drugs are slowly clearing up. As of now, work has returned to normal. Come to think of it, Captain Gavin deserves much thanks for helping me clear up the rumours.

I laugh, adding that last line.

After a soft “oh”, Gavin doesn’t continue.

The silence in the air spreads to both ends of the line. Minor, being incredibly tactful, leaves the room. Before closing the door, he mouths a “Boss, all the best”.

I think of the earlier information received. After hesitating for a moment, I test the waters with a question.

MC: Gavin, it’s been a while since we were in contact. How have you been?

Gavin: I was executing a mission.

Gavin’s breathing is very soft, drifting through the phone and into the receiver.

I can even imagine how he looks, pinching his phone with slight force, his right hand subconsciously tapping lightly on the desk.

The gloomy weather is filled with large, dark clouds. The first rainfall of winter, which has been brewing for a very long time, finally starts pattering down.

The synchronised rustling of rain can be heard over the phone. I lift my head to look out the window, and speak to Gavin softly.

MC: It’s raining. 

Gavin: Mm.

The thick sound of rain mucks up a memory, and I continue, thinking aloud.

MC: Rainfall in winter is the coldest... When you’re on missions these days, take note of the weather. When you head out, check the weather forecast, remember to bring an umbrella, and don’t catch a cold.

Gavin once again makes a sound of acknowledgement.

Gavin: Got it.

Another wave of silence hangs on the other end of the line. Just as I hesitate on whether to say goodbye, Gavin suddenly speaks.

Gavin: MC, I need your help with something.

-

Holding the STF-issued provisional visitor pass, a special officer leads me to the reception room.

Collaborative filming between the STF and [MC’s Company Name] has been shelved temporarily due to the gradually increasing amount of work. Other than the “Small Syringes” incident, it’s been a very long time since I came to the STF.

Special Officer: Miss MC, this is the place.

When the door is pushed open, a familiar voice drifts from inside.

Tang Chao: Yo, it’s you again. If you visit a few more times, I’ll be familiar with you. Your name’s MC, right?

Eli: Is that how you should speak to a lady?

Tang Chao: I’m just establishing good relations early. We’ll probably have many chances to meet in the future.

Aside from Eli whom I’m familiar with, I recognise the youth who doesn’t have a filter over his mouth. He’s Tang Chao, Gavin’s colleague, and the one who pretended to interrogate me the last time.

MC: Special Officer Tang, it’s been a long time.

Gavin: Tang Chao! Who allowed you to be here?

With a “bang”, the door is pushed open with force. Gavin strides into the room with a dark expression, placing files on the table with a thud.

It’s been a long time since I've seen Gavin, and I can’t help but take several looks at him.

Gavin is wearing everyday clothes, and in his deep eyes are the coolness and resoluteness that I'm familiar with.

My gaze remains unmoving, and I vaguely spot a white bandage near his sleeve.

MC: Gavin, are you injured?

Gavin: No.

Tang Chao: He’s lying. 

Gavin: ...

MC: ...

Tang Chao grabs the files on the table, whipping his head around to greet him before running out into the corridor swiftly. 

Eli: I can’t help much by staying here. The two of you can talk.

The reception room, which was in a state of chaos earlier, suddenly sinks into quietness.

I remain standing in place, somewhat at a loss. Gavin, feeling uneasy, turns his head to the side, releasing a soft cough.

Gavin: They talk too much. Let’s go straight to the main topic. 

Gavin plays down on the topic of his injuries, but I know that even if I were to ask, he would only keep it hidden. 

I sigh inwardly.

MC: You haven't told me what you needed my help with.

Gavin: We met a witness who has special circumstances, and we need your Evol to read his memories.

MC: Special circumstances? Is his memory impaired? Or did he lose part of his memory from fright?

Gavin shakes his head, and only signals that I should follow him.

In the interrogation room, Gavin briefly explains the situation: the incident happened at a station, and the victim died from a bullet

The witness is an elderly man who is blind

I tug on Gavin’s sleeve, and can’t help but voice the doubts in my heart.

MC: Gavin, since this witness is a blind man, how am I supposed to read his memories?

Gavin: Memories aren’t just images. Sounds, scents, and even touch are parts of memories.

MC: I think I understand what you mean. If footsteps are heard, it could confirm the time when the suspect appeared. If a unique scent is stored in the memory, it could also be a lead to cracking the case.

Gavin nods lightly. 

Gavin: That’s why I requested for you to come.

He tells her not to be stressed about it

Unfortunately, MC doesn’t get anything out of reading the witness’ memories

MC: I’m sorry, I don’t have much of a clue.

Gavin nods lightly, and doesn’t say anything. This causes me to feel a little embarrassed. 

Even though the case has nothing to do with me, I couldn’t be of any help to him.

Thinking about how he’s been handling Evol cases which come one after another, he must be facing an incredible amount of stress.

-

Walking out the doors of the interrogation room, Tang Chao happens to pass by.

Tang Chao: You’re going off just like that?

Gavin: ...

Tang Chao: Let’s head to the canteen for a meal. There are chicken drumsticks today.

Gavin blatantly ignores Tang Chao, who had extended an enthusiastic invitation. He turns towards me.

Gavin: I'll send you home. Don’t worry about today’s matter.

Seeing him like this, he’s probably planning to focus wholeheartedly on investigating and not intend to have a proper meal...

Sighing inwardly, I pat my hands and make a wilful decision.

MC: Gavin, you haven’t given me my remuneration. How about this. I’ll treat you to a meal, then you can conveniently send me home.

Gavin: No thanks.

MC: ...

Seeing the awkward expression on my face from being rejected, Gavin seems to be in a great mood, and the corners of his lips lift a tiny bit.

Gavin: I’ll send you home, and conveniently accompany you to a meal.

MC: ...eh?

Gavin: Why are you in a daze? Let’s go.

-

By the time we walk out of STF, the rain has already stopped. It isn’t time to eat yet, and neither of us are very hungry. We simply head to a nearby snack street to find something random to eat.

The road is flanked on both sides with various snack shops, numerous coloured billboards tightly packed together. In this late afternoon drawing close to evening, business is bustling, and people are walking to and fro.

It is the season where autumn ends and winter begins, and the fragrance of roasted chestnuts is in the air. My mind still ponders on the case from earlier.

MC: Gavin, aren’t there any other witnesses in that case?

Gavin: The crime occurred when the station was most desolate. There weren’t other commuters on the platform. 

MC: Since the location of the crime is in a place like the station, aren’t there any surveillance cameras nearby?

Gavin: On the day of the incident, all the surveillance cameras nearby were broken.

While speaking, a large white cat holding a Dragon Li cat in its mouth leaps past us lithely, and Gavin slow down his footsteps. 

MC: Looks like it’s a premeditated crime.

I have no other ideas after this, and I decide to ask whatever I can think of.

MC: After the murderer committed the crime, what would have been the first thing he’d have done?

Gavin: Get rid of the murder weapon.

Gavin says this casually. Standing before the roasted chestnut stall, the smile on the boss’ face instantly freezes. 

I take the freshly prepared roasted chestnuts, hurriedly pulling Gavin away.

At this moment, I realise on hindsight that Gavin had silently footed the bill, and I had accepted it just like that.

Gavin turns his head and sees me rooted in my original spot. His eyes are caged in the tender glow of sunset.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

MC: Gavin, is there anything you want to eat?

At first, he shakes his head. In the end, he seems to notice the downward tugging at the corners of my lips, and can only struggle in front of the oden noodle shop for a while.

Gavin: One serving of fishballs.

MC: Two servings. And add a serving of fish tofu, chicken wings, chikuwa... please add more chilli.

MC: You have to eat more.

While we’re eating and walking, a clear “bang” suddenly resounds from behind us.

With my mind filled with the shooting incident, I’m so scared that I shift half a step backwards.

Gavin: It’s a shooting game. 

Meeting Gavin’s teasing gaze, I laugh awkwardly, and an idea surfaces in my mind.

MC: I know! Let’s go and play that! Since we can’t escape from the topic of “shooting”, we might even get some inspiration from the game.

Gavin: ...that’s going a little far.

Despite what he says, Gavin still accompanies me, walking towards the stall. Seeing that there’s business, the owner immediately calls out to us in a lively manner.

I hold the gun, weigh it in my hand, and look at the target set up in front of me.

Gavin glances at me in surprise, and asks suddenly.

Gavin: You’ve learnt shooting?

MC: Mm, an incredible friend taught me.

Gavin: Which friend?

MC: ...the one who taught me self-defence. He’s very skilled, and is a very nice person too.

Gavin turns his head to the side, looking utterly disinterested, as though he doesn’t believe my big words.

After greeting the stall owner, I hold up the gun and adjust my posture. Settling on the target, I squint with my right eye, pulling the trigger confidently.

Bang--

Brimming with confidence, I look at the target, but realise that I’ve barely hit the 7th ring.

Gavin: Looks like his teaching wasn’t that great.

[Note] If you aren't familiar with Gavin’s dates: S1 Gavin taught MC how to shoot in his Rehearsal Date! So he’s basically insulting himself LOL

In a great mood, Gavin watches the faraway target. Unwilling to lose, I fire several bullets, but the results hover around the 6th and 7th rings.

MC: ...it’s been a long time since I practised, so I’m a little rusty.

After saying this, peals of laughter drift from behind me.

I turn my head, and see a high school couple playing the shooting game too.

Girl: Dear, your shooting skills are really good!

Boy: Dear, wait for me to get the biggest and cutest doll for you.

Once the girl hears the boy’s words, she laughs even more. 

A wave of melancholy strikes my heart. Just as I think of setting the gun down, I hear Gavin’s voice at my ear.

Gavin: You’re putting too much weight in front.

Suddenly, a familiar warmth presses against my back. Scorching breaths are at the roof of my head. He holds my hand, resting the butt of the rifle on my shoulder. 

MC: !

Gavin: Are you ready?

Gavin rests the first pad of his forefinger over mine, applying pressure on the trigger, not leaving a single gap.

I can feel the calluses as he covers the back of my hand with his, and the heart that’s about to leap out of my chest.

I don’t know if it’s the lingering warmth from sunset, or the temperature of Gavin’s body which is causing my face to feel heated.

Bang--!

The bullet slices through the air, hitting the centre of the target with precision.

Gavin: Do you remember the gist of the action?

I nod with force, the scorching warmth of our skin being pressed together causing the temperature of my face to rise.

Under Gavin’s close guidance, the subsequent eight shots all hit the bullseye.

His eyebrows arch upwards slightly, and he chuckles.

Gavin: Do you still want to try?

Seeing that Gavin is hitting the target with every shot, the stall owner seems to get a fright, and immediately waves his hands. 

Stall owner: I’m about to close the stall. You should pick a prize quickly.

Gavin: That one then.

Gavin points at the largest pink bunny plush on the counter. Then, he pauses, tossing me a questioning glance.

MC: Gavin, I want that prize.

I point at a golden coloured ginkgo keychain in the glass cabinet.

Stall owner: Miss, the one you chose is a third-rate prize. It’s of little value.

MC: It’s all right. I like it.

I hold up that ginkgo keychain, the fine leaf made of golden wire reflecting a dazzling light under the sun.

MC: It’d definitely look really nice on a bag!

I turn my head excitedly, and can’t help but flaunt it off to Gavin.

The autumn wind is somewhat gentle. The corners of Gavin’s lips are hooked upwards. His eyes, which are watching me, are flourishing with an amber light.

Gavin: Mm, looks really nice.

[Note] Screaming because it’s left ambiguous in Chinese on whether he’s referring to the ginkgo keychain... or her smile 👀

-

Right after walking out of the snack street, raindrops patter down.

MC: It’s raining again.

I retrieve my umbrella, and Gavin takes it from me naturally. The transparent umbrella is held steadily above my head.

Gavin: It’s getting late. I’ll send you home. Don’t worry about today’s matter. It has nothing to do with you.

Fine rain continuously slides off the umbrella. Gavin matches my pace, walking forward slowly.

Everything in the rain brings with it a certain hazy and humid quality, reminiscent of an image frequently featured in movies.

Gavin: Where’s your bracelet? Why aren’t you wearing it?

MC: The weather has been too damp these days. I was afraid wearing it out would affect its condition.

Gavin: ...oh.

I lift my head, and see a mother and daughter afar off, getting caught in the rain.

I exchange a glance with Gavin. We reach a tacit understanding, and he nods.

We walk over to the mother and daughter, and give the umbrella to them.

MC: This umbrella is for the both of you.

Mother: How could I take it!

With my persuasion, the mother and daughter finally accept this kindness, and repeatedly thank Gavin and I.

I take out an unimportant document from my bag and use it to cover my forehead. Just as I prepare to share a few sheets with Gavin, a shadow suddenly shrouds the top of my head.

--It’s Gavin’s jacket.

MC: No need. It’s just a little rain, it’d be fine.

Gavin: Didn't you say that rainfall in winter is the coldest?

Not allowing for any protests, Gavin holds the jacket over our heads, ensuring that I wouldn’t get caught in the rain.

Gavin: Let’s go. The journey isn’t long. I’ll send you home. Oh yes, don’t leave the house over the next few days. Especially at night.

His expression is incredibly serious, and even a little stern.

MC: Got it.

Gavin’s jacket covers my head. I breathe in, inhaling his unique scent.

But the jacket doesn’t seem to be large enough, and isn’t sufficient for two people to walk while standing side by side. After a moment of thinking, I stagger slightly, standing in front of Gavin. 

I lift my head, looking at Gavin’s clean lower jaw and amber coloured eyes.

MC: We’ll walk like this?

A touch of red surfaces on Gavin’s cheeks. He doesn’t lower his head to look at me. Shifting his gaze elsewhere, he feigns coldness in his voice.

Gavin: Mm.

The large jacket covers and carves out a small and narrow world. The sound of rain pattering on the jacket is slightly gloomy, blending with the scent of rain, and the delicate, faint fragrance in the air.

I take a deep breath, looking towards the street.

MC: Gavin, look. The wintersweet flowers are blooming.

[Trivia] In the language of flowers, the wintersweet symbolises independence, perseverance, fortitude, faithfulness, and a loving, noble heart :>

Behind me, Gavin halts in his steps, and peels open a corner of the jacket slightly.

I can’t see his gaze, and can only feel his drawn out breathing and the warmth of his skin through his shirt.

The yellow wintersweet flowers emit a subtle fragrance. In a manner which isn’t overly resplendent or bright, they add a warm lustre to this world.

Gavin: Mm, looks really nice.

His voice is clear and bright. In this indistinct, misty rain, it seems to indicate the direction that I should proceed towards.

In many moments, it’s always been the case.

The red light across the street seems to be exceptionally lengthy, and doesn’t change for a long time. 

The waiting time is a little long, and I can’t help but enter a slight trance. 

When I was fifteen years old, the rain was just like this.

Seventeen year old Gavin crossed the curtain of rain, and the school jacket he placed on me had carried the scent of an inexperienced youth.

That youthful scent which forever pauses on that rainy day has been breathed back to life in my memory, entwining with the scent of the man that is presently twirling around the tip of my nose.

Like a certain miraculous overlapping.

MC: The rain seems to be getting heavier.

The white shirt which has been caught in the rain is slightly soaked. I seem to see his slim back through the shirt, which has turned half-transparent from being drenched in the rain.

That clean and cool scent, just like the refreshing breeze coursing through this rain, descends on my heart.

The green man lights up, and the passers-by next to us walk across hurriedly. Perhaps this rain wouldn’t stop even after a while.

I summon my courage, and simply grab onto Gavin’s hand, pulling him into a run.

Across the streets, across the pelting rain, across the sea of memories, and walking into a junction belonging to us.

The rain pours even harder, creating flowers of water on the ground, as though urging me to hasten my footsteps.

Urging me to take his hand and walk forward quickly--

-

Part two: here

[itsleah728]

Scenario: When You Get Hurt

(These scenarios are kind of in 2nd and kind of in 3rd person, I don't really know how that happened but I like how they came out anyways so enjoy!)

Asra: You were practicing magic in the shop as Asra sat near you and peacefully slept on the couch. His soft snores were the only sounds that could be heard as you were careful not to make any loud noises until you casted a certain spell that went haywire and bounced off a near by mirror. The spell was heading towards you and you didn't have enough time to react as it smacked you in the chest and you felt searing pain spread through your body, you immediately knew you definitely casted that spell incorrectly. You tried to figure out what went wrong but the amount of pain spreading through your body was too much. You cried out in pain which ultimately woke Asra, he flung his head around and looked at your face scrunched up in pain.

He knew you were practicing magic so he put two and two together and knew you hit yourself with something. He rushed over to your side and led you to the couch as you tried gaining back your breath. He sat you down and quickly casted a healing spell to soothe your throbbing chest. After the spell was casted you had to continue telling him that you're okay now. He then pulled you into the tightest hug the universe has ever seen. You definitely cuddled together for the rest of the day.

Julian: Julian insisted on taking you to the Rowdy Raven even though he knows that place isn't your favorite. He also knows how you hate seeing him drunk, so when you dragged you along AND got drunk you weren't a happy camper. You sat at the bar with your face in your hands staring at Julian who was dramatically throwing his arms in the air as he told a group of drunk men a story that probably never even happened. You knew he enjoyed drinking and couldn't stop him but you wish he didn't bring you along. You continued sitting at the bar until another man approached and sat next to you. He continued to glance at you until he finally decided to speak.

You ignored him as he continued to try speaking with you, probably trying to flirt. You can tell he was getting frustrated with you ignoring him but you didn't think it was a big deal until the man roughly gripped your wrist making you whip your head around to stare at him with wide eyes. You can tell the man had poor intentions and you didn't want to cast magic at the bar so instead you decided on screaming your heart out. The Rowdy Raven got very quiet after your ear piercing scream you could hear a pin drop until Julian flies out of his chair and wraps a protective arm around you but the man refused to let go. Your wrist is throbbing from the mans harsh grip, Julian who seemingly sobered up, decided to punch the man in the face and make a run for it.

Once you both got away from the bar he pulled you to his side and apologized a million times for bringing you there as he checked out your hurt wrist. He brought you home and the rest of the day was spent with you reassuring Julian.

Muriel: You and the mountain man were walking through the woods towards a river so you can wash yourselves. It was a nice day where the sun was shining through the leafs of the trees, the birds were chirping, and your mood was as happy as can be. Muriel was silently walking besides you, occasionally stealing glances at your almost skipping frame. He couldn't help but have his lips twitch up at the sight, he loved how cheerful you always are.

You eventually reached the clearing where the river is located. You both stripped down to your underwear to bathe, this used to make Muriel very flustered but he's gotten used to it by now. You both stepped into the slightly cold water and started cleaning. You were in the middle of washing your hair when you lost your balance and crashed into the water the slight roughness of the current making it difficult to swim up to get the air you so desperately need. The sudden noise startled Muriel as he turned around only to see you struggling to reach the surface of the water. You started to really need air so being a natural reflex you took a large breath only to have water fill your throat and take your remaining air away. The current was still trying to take you and you knew you would become a prisoner to the water if you didn't get out soon. Black dots were poking the sides of your vision until two large arms wrapped under your arms and quickly tugged you up.

Muriel saw you struggling and as fast as he could with the rough currents, approached you. He tugged you out of the water expecting you to take a breath only to try breathing, inhaling more water, and falling limp in his arms. His eyes almost popped out of his head as he quickly got you to land and started pounding on your chest. He almost started crying seeing you like this until your eyes flew open and you started coughing up the water. After it all left your system you noticed Muriel with teary eyes staring at you, you gave Muriel a large hug as a thank you and an apology. After a moment of hugging he picked you up to bring you back to the hut. Let's just say you never went there to bathe ever again.

Nadia: Nadia was busy doing her job as the Countess most of the time, which you were fine with but she got uncomfortable leaving you alone for long periods at a time. There was also rumors that someone is after the Countess which made you uneasy but it made Nadia feel worse, not for her but for you. She was scared someone would harm you in the attempt to harm her so she decided to give you your own guard.

         You were currently in yours and Nadias room reading a book as your new guard who, you found out goes by the name of Larson kept watch. You didn't like having your own guard and Larson gave you the creeps, he didn't seem like a good man but you decided to keep that for yourself. You continued to read but you noticed Larson continuously stare at you from the other side of the room, at first you thought nothing of it thinking he was just doing his job but then he continued to do it. It started to really freak you out so you casually stood up and started heading for the door which of course didn't go down well with Larson.

           He continued to demand where you planned on going which definitely surprised you because he was just meant to guard you not judge your every move. You got fed up with him and started to shove past him planing on leaving until he got a grip of your throat and slammed you into the door. Your eyes went wide and you tried pushing his hand away that was squeezing the air from your lungs but it was in vain. As he choked you he explained to you that it was his plan to become your guard and eventually kill both you and the Countess. You were losing air fast and you gave up on trying to pry his hands off until the door you were pressed against slammed open, making you and Larson stumble back. You fell to the ground and sucked in air considering you could finally breathe. You looked up to your savior ready to thank them only to see a very pissed off Nadia. She stood at the entrance of the door fuming, she screamed for the guards and as she put it the "real guards". They finally arrived and took Larson away. Nadia took the day off and spent the rest of the day comforting your shaken mind.

Lucio: Lucio is a very busy man which you've grown to accept but sometimes it gets lonely. You decided to take a walk through the woods as you wait for Lucio to finish working, at the time it seemed like a good idea but thinking about it, it definitely was not.

          You start your walk through the calming woods, you watch a few birds fly above your head, and the trees that sway in the wind. Nature has always been a calming thing for you but you never thought to do this before when feeling alone which you now wish you did sooner. The woods takes away the feeling of loneliness that lives in the pit of your stomach. You know Lucio is the Count which is clearly a very busy job but you wish he made some time for you once and awhile. Even the occasional heart to heart conversation would be enough for you.

        You're so lost in your own head that you don't even notice the cliff you're heading straight towards.  Your foot hits a rock and you stumble slightly, your eyes go wide once you see the cliff. You quickly jerk your body back snapping your ankle in the process. Your cry out in pain but still have a great sense of relief seep through your system due to the fact that you could have tumbled down that cliff.

         You take a moment to calm your harsh breathing down as you try willing yourself to your feet. You take a small step on your snapped ankle and immediately feel the need to remove the pressure. The pain makes you hold in a choked sob that burns your throat as it tries escaping. You know you need to get back to the castle to receive medical attention so you start hopping on one foot all the way back.

          By the time you reach the entrance of the castle your uninjured leg is throbbing from being used too much as your injured ankle throbs for a different reason. You're panting out breaths due to the long journey back and upon looking closely at the gates of the castle you can see Lucio pacing back and forth seemingly very stressed. You accidentally step on a branch which causes Lucio's head to snap up and look at your panting, dirty, and quite broken body. He rushed up to you and wraps an arm around your waist helping you stand, he asks what happened and you contemplate not telling him what truly happened but you eventually crack. You explain how you were feeling lonely and decided to take a walk, you then explain how you broke your ankle. He seems speechless at the end but as you have doctors attending to you he vows to spend more time with you and he apologized over and over again. He spends the rest day helping you around the castle and reading a book to you.

Portia: You and Portia decided to spend the day horse back riding together. You planned on being alone for the day but Portia burst into your room and demanded you go together, you didn't have it in your heart to say no. It was a sunny day, not a cloud in sight with a small breeze flowing through the air. The grass was slightly damp from the previous day but all in all it was a fantastic day for horse back riding.

You and Portia chose your horses, she chose a rather large horse with mostly brown fur while you chose a slightly smaller horse with white fur and black spots. At the time the horse you chose seemed very proud to be chosen as it strode into the clearing and waited for you to mount it. This made you think you made a good choice in choosing a horse. You and Portia saddled up and you lightly tapped your foot to the horses side to get it running.

The wind whipped your clothing as the horse took off with a start, too fast for your liking. You tried to slow the horse down to no avail as it continued to run at what seemed to be full speed. Portia yelled at you asking what the heck you're doing and you were about to answer her but the horse you were riding on decided that the ride was over as it threw you off it's back and ran away. You fell down to the ground and you swear you heard a crack on impact. You groaned and rolled over that way your back wasn't on the hard ground, you heard Portia call out to you and the soft patter of hoofs. Portia got off her horse and ran to your side helping you slowly sit up. You asked her about the horse that ran away and she explained how she has no clue where it went because she was too focused on you, she also explained that you can figure it out later because you're what's important right now. You face flushes at the statement as she helps you to your feet she wraps an arm around you and hobble back to the castle. You back is throbbing but considering you can stand you know it's not broken which you're extremely thankful for.

You get the castle and Portia called Julian for him to check you out, making sure nothing is seriously wrong. After Julian gave you the okay Portia apologized for making you go with her but you shook it off saying it was fun anyways. You both spend the day together reading by the fireplace wrapped in each other's arms. (because why the hell not ya know?)

BONUS!

Valerius: You and Valerius were walking around the market place together one afternoon. Valerius decided to spend the day with you considering his duties as a Courtier took up a lot of his time, and even if he didn't show it often he does care for you. Therefore he told Nadia that he wanted time off to spend the whole day with you.

         You were both walking through the bustling market place when a man running a stall of random trinkets peaked your interest. You told Valerius that you wanted to check out the stall and he told you he would be at the wine stall. You gave him a smile and told him to meet up near the center in a few moments, he agreed and walked away. You checked out the trinkets and found something you thought Valerius would like, it was a small wine keychain. You knew he wouldn't show it off but you still decided on buying it for him.

You were heading towards the middle of the market place when an arm roughly tugged you into an nearby alleyway. You could already guess what was going to happen so you prayed someone had seen you. You could tell the person who tugged you was a rather large man due to his rough grip on your forearm. He tugged until you reached the end of the alleyway when he threw you to the wall. Your head bounced off the concrete and you knew right away magic was out of the equation because your head was now fogged up due to the force of the hit. The man kept asking for money but you sadly didn't have any to give otherwise you totally would have because your vision was darkening per second. You feel something warm run down the back of your head and you silently curse under your breath knowing that your head was split open.

You're very much out of it when you hear some shuffling and then a few muffled yells. You feel like you're going to pass out when two hands grip your face and turn your head up. You can see a very worried Valerius who seems to be speaking to you but you can't tell anymore because you've finally passed out.

When you come to there is a faint throbbing in the back of your head but no lasting damage. You see Valerius laying next to you in the hospital bed, you lightly tap him to wake him up. He wake up seemingly very confused until he saw you and pulled you into a hug which shocked you considering he's not one for showing affection. You spent the day with Valerius because he refused to leave your side.

Valdemar: Valdemar was working on a new subject for who knows what reasons as you sat near by and casually watched. You hated seeing these poor souls be quite literally tortured but there was nothing you could do about it and you kind of have gotten used to hearing the pained screams. Valdemar's next subjects were all lined up behind you as they all moaned and groaned because they knew they would meet the same fate.

          All was going well so far and Valdemar seemed pleased with what they have found so far. You still sat there and watched with half lidded eyes from boredom, you sat and wondered why the hell you fell for the demon creature. You were snapped out of your thoughts with the rattling of chains. You were going to turn around until an arm was placed around your chest as you were tugged towards someone. You froze when you felt the cool metal of a scalpel placed near your throat. Your breath caught in your lungs and tears started falling from your eyes. You didn't know how one of the subjects managed to escape the chains but now your life was on the line and you were terrified. Valdemar had yet to notice your situation as they were still pre occupied with their current subject until you fearfully called out their name. They slowly turned around and their eyes went wide but they quickly masked their surprise and anger with a face of uncaring. The subject and Valdemar bickered for a few moments until the scalpel started approaching your throat at a quick pace. The tears were now freely running down your face and you let out a sob when the scalpel lightly cut your neck. You new they planned on doing way more damage than that because the cut you acquired would only leave a small scar.

         The subject was going to cut again until Valdemar looked you dead in the eyes and calmly stated "darling close your eyes." You knew he planned on turning to his demon form so you quickly snapped your eyes shut and prayed to make it out alive. There were a few snaps and a few screams and then you felt yourself being tugged into an inviting hug. You hesitantly open your eyes only to be met with Valdemar who was placing a towel on your cut neck. Valdemar apologized which surprised you by staying he would stop working to spend the rest of the day helping you remove the trauma you were just exposed to.

A/n: look at my being all dramatic and making them be all near death experiences 😂

Check out my Instagram @its.leahs.art ,I'm about to hit 200 followers which is extremely exciting. I'll be doing a Q&A for the occasion so if you want to ask me anything you can head over there!

[imjeralee]

Request: Holiday (Part 1), Raihan x Reader

Requested by elisanice.

This was a pretty big request so I've had to split it up. The first part is essentially - 

Summary: Raihan has 4 days off so you and Raihan go on holiday. 

Whenever I write requests I end up feeling like its some sort of extension to Wallflower haha. Like when reader and Raihan are more advanced in their relationship...maybe when a few years have passed.

Format: Drabble/one (two-shot, potentially lol)

Notes: SFW

It was another peaceful day in your house in Hammerlocke when you hear the front door opening and you look up from the book you were reading to head over; you see your boyfriend at the doorway, removing his shoes.

“Welcome home!” you say excitedly as you dash towards him, and as he looks up, he greets you with a wide grin.

“Babe!” he exclaims, grabbing you by the waist and lifting you high in the air (but still being careful so you would not smack your head against the ceiling) before he spins you around in a circle.

This is usually how you greet your boyfriend when he comes home from work at the stadium but he seems to be in an elevated mood and you wonder if something’s happened.

“I have four days off,” he proceeds to tell you excitedly, “Let’s go on holiday.”

“Holiday?”

“Yeah,” he replies, “There are no scheduled matches until for two weeks and I wanna spend time with you.”

Your lip wobbles at once as you contemplate his words; true, Raihan could spend this precious time perfecting some battle strategies or training his pokemon to prepare for his next exhibition match with Leon but he wants to go with you on vacation so you appreciate the thought; wrapping your arms around his head, you snuggle him against your bosom and he chuckles when you let go to clasp his cheeks together, leaning over to smother him with kisses all over his cheeks and nose.

“C’mon, let’s look at plane tickets and hotels,” he murmurs with a grin.

With an enthusiastic nod and smile, Raihan lets you down and you head into the lounge where you both huddle on the couch over your Rotom phones with your feet up and your toes rubbing together as you look up information and details.

In a very short amount of time, you and Raihan have decided to book two return tickets to Unova; you’ll be staying at one of the popular resorts in Undella Town.

You’ve both always wanted to go and it would be good to venture out and see what it’s like in the region. Unfortunately, your credit card limit is too low to cover the price of the flights and resort for two people so it’s up to Raihan to complete the bookings which he’s more than happy to do so anyway.

You will handle the itinerary; it appears Nimbasa City will take up most your time since it’s so large and there are so many things to do. Raihan is a big shopper so there are many department stores he wants to visit. You will also attend one of the baseball games in the stadiums and you also recall there are Pokemon Musicals to watch so you book tickets for a showing in the late evening.

Due to the short notice, you’re taking a flight at dawn so you and Raihan pack as quickly and efficiently as you can before you head off to bed after a quick meal with your pokemon.

In a few hours, you wake up to make your way to Galar International Airport.

For you, it’s a bit of a challenge since you are so sleepy and the flight is quite long, and it doesn’t improve when you have arrived at Mistralton, you’re both feeling extremely weary so you make your way to Undella Town as hastily as possible; this is where the Corviknight taxi would really come in handy but unfortunately Unova and many other regions advocate flying on your own pokemon so you and Raihan have no choice but to fly on Flygon.

Whilst Raihan seats you snugly in front of him on his pokemon, he battles to stay awake for the brief flight whilst you snore and drool over his arm as he holds you tightly around the waist to stop you from falling off along the way.

Thankfully, the concierges at Mistralton airport will send your luggage to the resort in Undella Town for a fee which Raihan paid of course.

You eventually stir awake and you open your eyes to see Raihan and Flygon have taken you to the resort and you yawn and rub your eyes as Raihan slips off the dragon and hoists you up and into his arms.

You cling to him like a baby as he recalls Flygon and carries you up the steps with a grin; a bellboy comes running up to open the doors for you and Raihan enters the establishment, still with you snuggling against him.

“Is she okay?” one of the bellboys ask, but Raihan merely rubs your back soothingly.

“She’s just a little airsick.”

You are most certainly not but it seems Raihan enjoys carrying you like this, and in public too. Regardless, the early hour means there’s not a single soul in sight so he can get away with it.

He checks in at the front desk and the receptionist hands over the hotel room key and bids you both a warm welcome after she goes over the amenities which were already advertised on the website. Raihan also asks for a wakeup call in the afternoon.

“Have a great stay!” the receptionist exclaims once everything is accounted for, “Enjoy your honeymoon!”

As Raihan carries you towards the directions of the elevators, you groggily open your eyes. “Did she just say….honeymoon?”

“Yep. I told ‘em we’re on our honeymoon and we got upgraded at no extra cost.”

With widened eyes, Raihan carries you into the elevator as you splutter and go pink in the cheeks. He lets you down and once the lift arrives at your floor, you find the honeymoon suite hand-in-hand and Raihan unlocks it where you emit a gasp of awe at the luxuriousness of it all.

The room is huge! There’s a king-sized bed in the middle of the room facing the beach, the covers are sprinkled with rose petals with towels folded into swans. There is also a bottle of chilled champagne on the bedside table along with two glasses. To the left of the room is an outdoor area sectioned by glass and curtains controlled by electric remote control that leads to a jacuzzi and infinity pool.

“Holy shit, Rai!” you squawk, realizing your boyfriend has gone all out for you.

“Hehe, you like it?” he says with a grin.

“I love it!” you exclaim before you turn round to throw your arms around him tightly.

Raihan immediately plucks you off the ground again, scooping his large hands under your ass and you wrap your legs around his waist; leaning forwards, he presses his lips tightly against yours and walks you over to the bed where he drops you over the duvet and keeps you pinned to the mattress with his hands gripping your wrists before he attacks your cheeks, lips and neck with deep kisses, causing you to giggle.

As he peppers you with kisses, you turn your head to the side as he lets go of you and you glance up to see the massive TV to your right and the plushy couches. There is also a door that leads to the bathroom where a pristine, white marble tub sits in the middle lined with unlit candles.

You hoot with excitement, giddily pointing to the bath but Raihan takes your chin with his hand, forcing you to look at him and his blue eyes meet yours for a brief second before he crushes his lips over yours once more.

You smile as you slide your arms around the back of his neck, kissing him passionately in return. Grinning against your mouth, Raihan begins trailing his lips down and over your collarbone and to your stomach, attempting to lift your shirt up; when he arrives at your pants, he’s keen to get you out of them until he hears a light snore from the back of your throat and he swerves his gaze back up to see that your eyes are closed, mouth half-open.

You’re fast asleep.

Raihan stops and blinks owlishly, before he smiles at you haplessly and lifts you gently into his arms; once you’re propped up in his lap, he peels back the covers and tucks you inside.

You have a long day ahead.

…

The ringing of the phone forces you to stir and you open your eyes only to be met with darkness - the curtains has been drawn - and Raihan is spooning you from behind on the bed.

You yawn, stretch and grasp blindly for the phone which should be placed on top of the bedside table, picking up the phone and bringing the receiver to your ear only for an automated voice telling you it’s the wake up call that was ordered.

“Rai…” you mutter as you put the phone down. “It’s time to get up…”

You hear him groaning incoherently behind you before he squeezes you tightly around the waist and buries his nose into your hair and neck. “Mmphh…”

Reaching behind you, you gently pat him on the arm and the side of his face. “C’mon…”

“Nmm…fine…” he finally pulls his face out of your neck and grabs your hand, and you both sit up in bed side-by-side, emitting huge yawns.

Nimbasa City is your destination today so after getting ready, you fly on your pokemon to the electric city. 

In an effort not to be recognized, Raihan has changed into a casual, oversized hoodie with gaping pockets and matching baggy pants along with a white pair of sneakers. He thinks he’ll get spotted easily if he wears his statement orange headband so he swaps it for a black cap which he places neatly over his head though they do hold his dreadlocks down. He even dons a pair of expensive, designer shades in order to remain anonymous as possible.

When you go out with him, this is something you’re rather used to so you think nothing of it and once you arrive at the city, you stare at the huge and towering buildings that are lit up with huge billboards and adverts with all sorts of pokemon on them before you spot the ferris wheel and rollercoasters in the distance. It appears to be a complete entertainment zone itself which could even rival Wyndon. 

You and Raihan walk around aimlessly for a few minutes or so just to get a feel of the area until Raihan spots the nearest department store.

“Let’s go,” he says, and you walk hand-in-hand towards the building; Raihan is quite the shopaholic compared to you.

In fact, you’re hardly into fashion and designer labels, what’s in season and what’s not. All you need is a pair of comfy shoes and sweater and you’d be fine.

The moment you step in and you realise it’s a totally different world inside and that it is rather high class; Raihan still blends in well with his height and the airy confidence he carries whereas you find yourself dawdling by his side, looking left and right and clearly not at home.

You feel the shop assistants can tell you are working class from your clothes, the dowdy bag you’re carrying and also the dirt on your shoes – you clearly cannot afford anything here and they wonder why you are here in the first instance. They regard you from head to toe along the way as you and Raihan check out some of the items for sale, oblivious to their judgemental stares.

“Isn’t that Raihan?” you hear one of the staff members muttering to themselves, “And is that his girlfriend?”

Despite the effort to blend in, you didn’t realise you and Raihan would still be recognizable. You stick by your boyfriend’s side as much as possible but he’s still oblivious to the growing whispers and murmurs that surround you. It’s possibly because he’s so used to the attention; whilst you notice a few girls staring at your direction inquisitively, Raihan busily looks through the clothing racks and barely bats an eyelid to them.

As you continue shopping, he tries on several hats and sunglasses and asks you how he looks whilst you merely show him a thumbs up. You have not been inside the store for an hour and Raihan has already purchased a few statement articles.

He’s got good taste and he has the money, whereas you obviously don’t so you’re left trailing after him as he picks out random hoodies and t-shirts and shirts and pants and trying them on and asking for your opinion along the way. The shopping bags begin to pile up and you help, balancing one in each hand and some hanging over the bend of your elbows.

You wonder if you will ever see something you like and it happens when you spot a few dresses along the way which are very pretty and as you stop to stare and subtly find the price tag, your eyes widen when you see that it costs eight hundred thousand pokedollars.….holy Furret…if that dress costs eight thundred thousand, you cannot fathom how much everything else here costs.

Raihan is loaded. You kind of knew Raihan was rich from his work and sponsors but you didn’t realise he was that filthy stinking rich!

With that money, you can think of many other items or things to do with that money… and you immediately let go of the dress to return to his side; Raihan grins as you linger by his side, staring longingly at the dress on display.

“What’s wrong? Did you like that dress?” he asks, noticing your glum expression.

“Yeah, but it’s way too expensive.”

“If you want anything, let me know. I’ll get it for you.”

You shake your head firmly. “No, it’s okay, Rai.”

He observes you carefully, noticing how you slide your gaze to your shoes, looking rather forlorn. “It’s okay, babe, I’ll get it for you. You really like it, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s way too pricey,” you shake your head adamantly when he doesn’t look convinced. “It’s fine, Rai, I don’t want it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah-“

“Raihan??? Raihan of Hammerlocke?!”

You cringe and you both turn round to see a small group of Unovian Lasses standing near you in the store, grinning giddily at your boyfriend. They’re all clutching pens and books in hand and you blink widely.

“Can we get your autograph?” one of asks.

Raihan blinks wide-eyed; he looks a little stuck, partially because you’re with him.

However, you give him a reassuring nudge and he’s quickly swarmed by the groups of girls who come charging forwards, waving their pens and booklets in the air and wanting his signature and photo. You hastily step backwards to let them through and your boyfriend is swarmed in seconds. It’s funny how tall he is as he towers over the majority of them.

Raihan glances at you and you playfully wave at him, “Have fun!” you mouth at him and he shoots you a helpless grin. You nod at him knowingly; you’re all too aware that this happens more often than necessary so you’re used to this and so is he.

You use this time to slink past and away and leave the store.

It’s about time you had some space for yourself to browse on your own so you find a new store called ‘Noir’; it appears to be cheaper and less high end than the other boutiques in this mall and you haven’t heard of this label before either but when you’re greeted warmly by the staff, you feel much, much better.

You respond to them with polite smiles, knowing they haven’t judged you in any way or manner, and you head to the women’s section, glancing around and looking at the shirts and dresses for sale; you know Raihan will take a while so you pick up some items that captures your eye – for instance, a black dress which is a tad cheaper than the other ones you saw in that other store – you also pick up a nice skirt and matching top…and it’s then you spot the most beautiful black leather jacket you have ever seen that is displayed on a dummy at the very middle of the section.

It’s a very eye-catching display and you stare for a few seconds or so before you wander over, your eyes drawn to the garment like a moth to a flame.

Circling round, you wonder if you’re even allowed to touch it so you glance left and right quickly before reaching over and rubbing your fingertips carefully over the black fabric. It’s better than you realized!!! So silky and soft and smooth! It’s love at first sight! It does exist after all!

Enamored, you head to another aisle where a few of the same leather jackets are put on display and see if you can check if you can see the price label and you’re kind of too embarrassed but all in all, you could be checking if it’s your size... You meticulously hunt for the jacket with your right size and pull it out of the rack, grasp the label gently and glance at the price.

Your eyes bulge.

Five hundred thousand pokedollars.

You gulp for you cannot justify the price so you let go of the price tag and take a few steps back until a pair of strong and sturdy arms wrap around you from behind and someone’s lips find the shell of your ear.

“Grrr ~ gotcha.”

It’s Raihan and you inwardly breathe a sigh of relief and giggle as he bites and nips at your ear playfully before he begins to nuzzle the side of your neck.

“Did you finish giving out autographs?” you ask, smiling widely as he presses deep kisses over your nape.

“Yeah,” he pauses to reply - he sounds tired - before he nibbles on your neck again.

“Poor baby,” you reach over to pat him on the head.

He grins in response, tightening his grip on you. “What’re those?” he murmurs, noticing you’re holding several items in hands.

“Oh, uh…nothing. I’m not going to buy these.”

“You can try them on at least.”

You ponder for a few seconds or so; Raihan’s right...you may as well. You got nothing to lose. You want to try something at least…

“Okay,” you agree, and you grab the jacket too for good measure.

Raihan guides you to the direction of the changing rooms where he waits outside with Rotom; you pull the curtain behind you and set out your selected items on the hooks provided before you get changed out of your own clothes.

You’ve chosen a black cocktail dress which you can wear should you and Raihan decide to go partying; Raihan likes to go partying a lot so party dresses like these are a must. You carefully slip into the dress to discover it’s a great fit – fits like a glove - and you gulp when you realise it’s love at first sight all over the again as you stand and look at your reflection in the mirror...what will Raihan think?

“Um…Rai?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m coming out now.”

“Okay.”

You take a deep breath, your heart thundering as you nervously peel back the curtains, stepping out of the cubicle and Raihan’s put away his phone to wait for you but you certainly weren’t expecting this kind of response.

His eyes widen briefly as he gets a good look at you, and you’re stunned yourself when you realise you have actually stolen his breath away because Raihan cannot take his eyes off you… and you swallow down the lump in your throat as his lips curl into a grin that almost reaches his ears.

“So…um…what do you think?”

He likes what he’s seeing, and you blush heavily and pull down on the bottom of your dress because somehow it feels a little too short now.

“It’s perfect,” he murmurs, rising off the couch to stand before he approaches you.

“I’m not gonna buy it though.”

His grin drops. “Why not?”

“Too expensive.”

You quickly rush back into the cubicle to get changed into the next items you picked out where you pretty much elicit the same reassuring response from Raihan but again, it’s way too over your budget so you have no choice but to put them to the side.

It’s finally the jacket’s turn and you feel your heart dropping heavily when you slide your arms through the rich and silky materials of the sleeves and pull the lapels together over your chest.

The jacket is so perfect and the material is so luxurious and beautiful and you put your hand to your mouth; you almost want to cry out in agony that you cannot afford such a gorgeous item and you’ve never seen anything like this for sale in any of the Galar’s boutiques. You try to think of the practicality of it all and realise it can be mixed and matched with so many different outfits – dresses, denims and white or grey shirts, sweaters, skirts…everything. If you had a choice, you would probably invest in this.

Regardless, you step out of the cubicle once more with the jacket for Raihan’s approval, and he grins and nods.

“Suits you,” he comments, and you smile to yourself as you glance at your reflection at the floor to ceiling mirror outside the cubicles; Raihan joins your side, peering over your shoulder and you realise you and Raihan make quite the good couple and it’s all thanks to the jacket and its wondrous durability. It also makes you look pretty badass. No-one would mess with you, that’s for sure.

You croak, “I really like this.”

Yet you sigh and take it off.

Raihan looks at you expectantly but you shake your head.

“It’s fine…”

As you plod towards the direction of the cubicle to grab your things, Raihan scoops the unwanted clothes into his arms. 

“I’ll put these back for you.” He says, and you nod. “I’m also gonna pop to the restroom so…”

“It’s fine, I’ll just take another look around the shop.”

With plans in place, you and Raihan split ways; you leave the changing room and continue browsing through the clothing racks until you realise quite a while has passed and he hasn’t called you or messaged you. You hope nothing’s happened to him.

You’re about to leave the shop to head to the restroom area until you spot a familiar figure standing at the counter; it’s Raihan…? What is he doing here? He’s chatting to the sales assistant who’s pulling out bag after bag and plopping them over the counter. Has he bought something???

You head over quickly and stop by his side. “Rai?”

He sounds surprised by the sound of your voice and turns round before grinning widely at you. “Hey babe,”

“What’re you doing here? I was looking for you; I thought you went to the restroom.”

“Sorry, did I make you worry?”

You nod and he coos at you, reaching for you and bringing you into his embrace. “Ah…I’m so sorry, babe,”

You close your eyes, rubbing your cheek against his chest as the sales assistant piles up to six bags and begins to press her fingers rapidly over the cash register and the total comes up. Your eyes bulge but Raihan delves a hand into his pockets for his wallet and promptly pays.

He must have bought something for himself.

You’re done with the shopping spree, so you leave the store hand-in-hand and you wonder what he’s bought until your stomach gurgles loudly and unfortunately, Raihan hears. 

He laughs and your cheeks redden thoroughly; you’re hungry so you head up to the top floor where all the restaurants are and after a brief search on Rotom, Raihan finds a highly-reviewed rooftop bar and restaurant where he asks for a seat with a good view of Nimbasa City.

You’re both directed to a booth in the corner with comfy sofas; the view is breathtaking and you stare in awe as you make your way up to the glass and peer at the horizon. It’s absolutely stunning; the lights in the city are so bright and vibrant...

And after you both settle down and order your food, Raihan places all the shopping bags on the spare seat and sighs, rubbing his temples. It’s been a long day but hell, you only managed to go shopping today.

As you wait for the food to arrive, you can’t help but wonder what he’s bought so you casually reach over and peep into one of the bags. Eyes wide, you see it is none other than the leather jacket you had tried on.

“Huh?” you gasp, and Raihan starts to chuckle.

“Do you like it?” he murmurs as you whip your head to him in shock.

“I…Rai, you…I didn’t know…you didn’t have to - !! Oh, babe…” you squeak out and as he chuckles louder, you leave your seat and head over to him.

You could hardly care less about the fact that you’re in public. You inch towards him with open arms and he reaches for you as well; Raihan pulls you into his chest, enveloping you into a tight hug. You settle yourself into his lap on the sofa as he draws you into his embrace before you snuggle into him affectionately, closing your eyes as he chuckles again and presses a kiss over your forehead.

“Rai, you really didn’t have to.”

“Think of it as a gift.”

“....Now I feel bad.”

“Don’t. You know I’ll always get anything you want,” he murmurs in your ear, and you smile widely in response.

Arceus, Raihan spoils you so, so much. 

You let out a chuckle at this thought, wrapping your arms around him securely.

Part 1 - Holiday (end)

[baevillier]

Turbulence | Matthew Tkachuk

part one

The low hum of the airplane turbine next to her seat had begun to lull Y/N asleep. Here she sat at the Lambert international airport in St.Louis- with nothing but a bag of pretzels and a bottle of water in her lap as she watched out the window. It was past midnight and she had opted to take the red eye flight as a way to save money after Christmas had put white the beating on her bank account.

Passengers loaded onto the plane and started putting their carry-on items in the above head storage. There were a couple families, some children and one lady who sat a few rows behind Y/N had a dog. All she wanted was to get some shut eye. Christmas break had not been what she expected, originally the plan was to fly into Missouri and spend time with her boyfriend and his family, but what she received instead was a rude awakening.

Her boyfriend was a total asshole when he was around his family, and as Y/N learned- he was not the guy she had fallen for back in Calgary. So rather than put herself through two weeks of utter torture and pain, she broke things off with him and put herself on the first flight back to Alberta. There was still time for her to visit her own family in Edmonton if she really wanted, but Christmas was over now and they would all be heading back to work. There was no point in driving down after she got home. The weather on the highway would be more of a danger than anything, and she couldn’t afford another flight in such a short amount of time.

People started to settle down and the seat next to Y/N had yet to be filled- maybe she would get the entire row to herself, she could stretch out, put her feet up, take use of the extra leg room and arm rest. But her desires had taken a hold of her too soon- as if it was karma for being so greedy, a voice suddenly called out. “I’m here! Im here!” A man came rushing onto the plane, showing the flight attendant his ticket and passport. Almost mocking Y/N for her naive thoughts, the staff pointed out to the empty seat next to her- Y/N had just found her seat buddy.

Cursing herself, she huffed and crossed her arms- looking out the window to try and ignore how annoying her neighbour had already become. She knew nothing about him but she was in a shitty mood due to her recent break-up and also the fact that she was taking a flight at two in the morning.

Pushing his rather large carry-on into the overhead space, the man sat down next to Y/N, bumping her arm with his rather broad shoulders. He had a ball cap on hiding his mess of hair- but Y/N could see some sticking out from the sides, oddly cut and curly. It had a slight red tinge to it which matched the sweater he was wearing. Champion sweatshirt- nothing fancy. A pair of grey sweatpants hugged his hips, they had an Adidas symbol on them and some Adidas trainers on his feet. He looked pretty normal- he was obviously fit, but YN didn’t really care. She wasn’t looking to date anyone so soon.

She was rather observing him.

Once the man had taken up quite the amount of Y/N’s space, he pressed his lips into a firm line as if nothing was wrong. The flight attendant continued her instructions which passengers had heard countless of times before- however it was protocol, and they understood they staff had a job to do.

Y/N stared at her phone which still had a picture of her and her boyfriend on it. He was wearing an oilers jersey while she had a flames scarf on. She knew nothing about hockey, but it had been her boyfriend’s birthday and he wanted to go see a game. The memory was one that Y/N once cherished- Ethan had been so different in Calgary than he was in St.Louis. In Alberta he was kind and understanding, but as soon as they got to Missouri it was like a switch had been flipped in his brain. He was rude and dismissive- a total jackass. He ignored Y/N for the majority of their trip, flirted with other women when he thought she wasn’t looking. It was as if the total 5 months they spent together back in Canada had been a lie.

Glancing over at the woman’s phone screen, the man rolled his eyes. “Your boyfriend has horrible taste.” He quipped. Immediately, Y/N’s eyes shot up- locking the device and taking in his figure. Leaning against his had on the arm rest, the red head was watching her almost inquisitively. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore.” She answered him- he didn’t need that information, but Y/N couldn’t stop herself from letting the words Tumble past her lips.

Almost wincing at her actions, the woman’s lips tightened. “Its rude to look at stranger’s phones.” She reprimanded him- anything to get the attention away from her failing love life. She was met with a chuckle and roll of her neighbour’s eyes. “Were going to be stuck next to each other for about 7 hours… So we better move past being strangers quickly- other wise this flight is going to be awfully boring.” He stuck out his hand to introduce himself.

Y/N was almost caught off guard, she didn’t really expect to have a full blown conversation with this guy at two in the morning. But nonetheless, she stuck out her hand. “Im Y/N.” her tone was soft and came out in a tired hum- the dark circles under her eyes were enough to tell the man next to her that she planned on sleeping through this flight.

“Matt.” The man introduced himself. He couldn’t stop himself from asking about her boyfriend. He was cocky and always liked inserting himself in other people’s business, even if Y/N was a stranger to him. Matthew was an instigator and he knew that- it was apart of his charm.

Scratching at the oddly grown in scruff against his jaw, Matthew cleared his throat. “So whats wrong with the ex-boyfriend? Couldn’t get it up?” He smirked. Receiving a short chuckle from the girl next to him, he thought that was a good sign.

This wasn’t exactly something Y/N wanted to talk about but maybe letting it out would be a good thing for her. “He’s just a jackass… Acts totally different around me than he does with his friends and family.” She answered him. Catching the way Matthew rolled his eyes, Y/N glared in his direction. “What? You don’t think thats a good reason to end things?” She asked him defensively.

Matthew shook his head, rising a brow at her he thought it was rather ridiculous. “Obviously a guy is going to act different around his boys than he would with his girl.” He defended Ethan- Matt didn’t know a single thing about this guy, but it seemed like Y/N was being unfair. “There must be something else wrong with him.” He prodded her, begging her to go further into her explanation as to why she ended her relationship.

Y/N was almost at a lost for words. She wasn’t expecting to talk about her relationship with a stranger- let along have to defend her decision after this guy took her ex boyfriend’s side. “There doesn’t have to be anything else wrong with him- I, I ended things and thats that.” She spoke firmly, a red tinge flashed across her cheeks as a hint of anger raised within her.

The plane took off into the air and the passengers were well on their way to Calgary. Y/N was getting further away from Ethan and hopefully leaving her problems behind. The staff came around to answer any questions and check up on the overhead compartments.

Listening to the woman’s remark, the man let out a scoff. Matthew grabbed his head phones and put them over one hear- tilting his head up and closing his eyes, he was going to leave the conversation at that. Until suddenly a comment slipped past his lips. Opening one eye and peeking over at the blushing woman he hummed. “Sounds to me like you’re just high maintenance.”

Almost dropping her jaw in shock at his words, Y/N was at a loss. She knew that she didn’t have to defend herself from some stranger who knew nothing about her situation- but something about Matt had Y/N wanting to fight with him. Maybe it was his cocky little smirk, maybe it was his annoying rat like face or just the fact that Y/N was tired, either way she was irritated and just wanted to go to sleep.

Grabbing her pillow and placing it against the window, Y/N forced her head against the soft plush and squeezed her eyes shut. She just needed to fall asleep and forget absolutely everything about Ethan, Matthew and her failed Christmas.

A tapping against her shoulder began to shake Y/N from her sleep, her eyelids fluttered but she was still refusing to open her eyes- she could hear some grumbling, finally she went to open her eyes just as a finger came flying into view. “Ow- what the fuck?” She spun around, holding one of her eyes that was now tearing up after being poked at.

Blinking several times, she was able to make out the image of Matt, chuckling and rolling his eyes. “Someone is a cranky bitch in the morning aren’t they?” He teased- Sighing softly as he noticed her frustration with him. The man pouted like someone didn’t want to play a game with him. “They are landing us early, issue with the plane.” He mentioned.

This woke Y/N up rather quickly. She immediately rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked at the tiny map that was being displayed on the screen in front of her. “Were in fucking Minnesota?” She whipped her head towards the window and opened the blinds- the snow was coming down heavy and it was obvious that there weren’t going to be any planes leaving for a while.

Unbelievable. Y/N didn’t understand how she got placed with the worst luck on this trip. First she was seeing her exes family instead of her own, then she was leaving her vacation early and going back home as a single woman, and now she was stuck in Minnesota with a despicable man who she couldn’t wait to get away from.

Clenching her eyes shut and throwing her head back, the woman started to pinch at her arm, tiny nail shaped bruises lining her skin. Instantly Matthew reached out and grabbed her hand. “What are you doing?” He asked, even though the two of them were being irritable towards each other, he didn’t want to see her hurt herself.

“Im trying to wake myself up- because there his no way my life is this shitty.. this has to be a dream.” She batted his hand away and returned to pinching herself.

Matthew rolled his eyes at her dramatics, looking towards the front of the plane as the flight attendant explained that they would be landing in St.Paul until the storm rolls over. A series of gross from the passengers resonated through the plane- a couple of babies starting to cry and the dog began to yip.

Y/N did her best to stay calm but her patience was wearing very thin.

[publiusvirgilius]

A Hard Day’s Night

Beatles-inspired Hotchfic: Your boyfriend Aaron Hotchner is tired after a long trip, but exhaustion goes out the window when he sees you.

Author's Note: I wrote this in a day! This is my first time publishing a fanfic so please be nice, but I also welcome criticism and feedback. I have a longer, plot-driven Spencer Reid story in the works if any of y'all would be interested—I promise it's less dirty than this one :) If I do post it, it would be on Wattpad, same username. Also happy to take requests! Receiving writing prompts is always fun and keeps the creative juices flowing, so please message me for any requests or just to say hi.

Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader

warnings: mention of statutory rape (unsub), smut (hotch), biting

word count: 2.6K

This had been one of the longest cases the BAU had seen in a long time. There had been multiple kidnappings in a small town all within a week, and just when the team thought they had apprehended the unsub, a teenager had been abducted, leading them to change the profile.

The townsfolk weren't helping, either. One would think that a small town would come together in a time of crisis, but parents were blaming each other, the teenagers were getting into trouble, trying to escape the grief of their younger siblings' disappearances through drugs and alcohol, and the local police was beginning to question the FBI's methods and abilities.

After two weeks of chasing the unsub around, the team finally caught him. The person responsible for the kidnappings had turned out to be the sheriff himself, working with a seventeen year old girl. They claimed to be in love, and their crimes had been fueled by the desire to have children of their own, which had been impossible, for statutory rape aside, the sheriff was over fifty years old and impotent.

All in all, it had been a frustrating case, and the team was more than ready to go home as soon as it was over. They arrested the couple and got them to confess just within a couple hours of figuring out that they were the ones responsible, but by the time they finished, it was past 11 p.m.

The agents all agreed that they would rather fly back home now than wait until the morning, eager to leave the small town.

This is how Aaron Hotchner found himself as the only conscious individual on the jet back home. He had always had trouble falling asleep on planes—unlike his agents, who, as soon as they boarded the craft, each found their own corner of the jet and promptly dozed off.

Aaron checked his watch. 11:45. Y/N was bound to be asleep by now. Aaron's girlfriend woke up early for work every day, and since today was Sunday, she would definitely have turned in early to prepare for work tomorrow.

Still, she had made him promise to call her when he was on his way home, especially after a case this long.

Aaron settled for a text, not wanting to wake her, even though he ached to hear her voice. He smiled as he opened up his phone to the last texts they had sent each other:

Y/N: "I miss you <3 Come home soon xx"

Aaron: "I miss you too. Say hi to Jack for me."

The last message had been a photo Y/N had sent of her and Jack snuggled up on the couch on Saturday night, his son fast asleep as a movie played in the background.

If any of his colleagues had been awake, they would have teased him about the wide grin on his face looking down at his phone. Aaron rarely let his team see his emotions, but ever since he and Y/N started dating a year ago, he found himself smiling more often. And when he had asked Y/N to move in with him a month ago and she had said yes, even the people outside of his department had noticed a difference in his mood.

The thought of Y/N erased all of the gruesome images and dark thoughts that came with the job at the BAU from Aaron's mind. And unlike a year ago, when he would spend the flight home thinking about how a case could have gone differently—which of his decisions had led to more deaths and what decisions would have prevented them, and what his job meant about the state of humanity as a whole—now, all he thought about was who he got to go home to at the end of the day.

Aaron opened up the picture of Y/N one more time, smiling at her sleepy eyes in the dim living room and the way she was holding Jack close to her chest, before typing out a text to let her know that he was coming home.

Aaron: "I'm on my way home. Should arrive by 2 a.m. but I hope you're asleep when you get this."

During the last two weeks, the time difference had made it difficult for Aaron and Y/N to find time to talk, especially since during a case, the workdays tended to end late, but Y/N had insisted on calling him each night before he went to bed.

Just tonight, Aaron hoped to relieve Y/N of a late-night call, and when she didn't text back, he breathed a content sigh. In his mind, the perfect welcome home would be cozying up next to his girlfriend in their warm bed and holding her close as she slept.

What Aaron didn't know was that Y/N was still awake. In fact, she had never gone to bed. She had put Jack to bed around 8:30 p.m., but then, she came back downstairs and set out to get ahead on this week's work with a cup of caffeinated tea as she waited up for Aaron.

As soon as the jet touched down in D.C., the team hurried to get out, eager to get home. Sometimes the BAU would go out for celebratory drinks after a case, but this time, everyone was too worn out to do anything but to go home.

"Thanks for your hard work the past two weeks," Aaron said to the team. "I know it was a long case."

"Can we please have tomorrow off?" Emily half-joked.

"You're welcome to take any of your designated sick days, Prentiss," Aaron said with a small smile.

Emily scoffed at his remark as the rest of the team snickered.

"Don't even think about calling us before 10 a.m., JJ," Derek said.

"Go home and get some rest," Aaron said. "From what I recall, a certain amount of paperwork follows a complicated case, and like it or not, tomorrow is Monday."

By the time Aaron pulled into his driveway, it was 2:30 a.m. When he got out of the car, he felt the weary effects of having been awake for eighteen hours. As he walked up to the door, Aaron started slightly when he saw that the light in the kitchen was on.

Y/N probably forgot to turn out the lights, he thought.

But he was wrong. When he stepped through the door, his weariness instantly dissipated. His briefcase dropped from his hand with a heavy thud.

Y/N was seated at the kitchen counter, clad only in one of his undershirts and a pair of thin pajama shorts, her hair in a messy bun atop her head, her large glasses balanced over her delicate nose, chewing on the tip of her pen as she pored over an array of papers. To Aaron, it was a sight for sore eyes.

"What are you doing up?" Aaron asked dumbly.

"You thought I wouldn't want to see you as soon as you got home? After I haven't seen you for two weeks?" Y/N hopped down from her seat and padded across the wooden floors to her boyfriend. "Let's get you to bed, baby. You must be exhausted," she said, loosening Aaron's tie and pushing his jacket off of his shoulders.

When she touched him, it was as if she had switched on a circuit, blowing out all the resistors and capacitors. Aaron's senses caught on fire, and he burned for her touch.

"I think you've got it wrong, Y/N," Aaron said, his eyes darkening. "I will take you to bed, and I want to see you naked and coming for me as soon as possible."

Before Y/N could retort, Aaron had her thrown over his shoulder and was heading for the bedroom.

Once Aaron had her laid out on the bed, he started to remove her flimsy clothes. "I missed you. So. Much." He bit out each clipped syllable, biting and sucking behind her ear, on her neck, and on her collarbone between each utterance.

Y/N gasped, trying to catch her breath. "Jack's asleep," she whispered.

"That's none of my concern, since my mouth is going to be occupied with something else. But I suppose you'll just have to do your best to be quiet," he said.

Aaron continued kissing and licking down her chest, pausing at her breasts to tease each little pink bud with his tongue. When he reached the junction of her hips, he bit down lightly on her hipbone, causing her to cry out until she quickly bit down on her fist to quiet herself.

"Good girl." Aaron looked up at Y/N and planted a kiss near her bellybutton, his tongue briefly flicking against the hot skin. He licked across the insides of her thighs, then softly blew cool air onto them as he ran his hands up her legs, making her shiver.

When his mouth finally landed on her clit, he lapped her up like a man starved. "You're so fucking wet," he growled. "Did you miss me while I was gone? Did you touch yourself thinking about me?"

Y/N struggled to nod as her body trembled.

Aaron sucked hard on her clit as he pushed two fingers inside her, dragging them against the pebbled surface of the top. Y/N covered her face with both of her hands, trying to hold back the sounds escaping her throat.

"I want you to look at me." Aaron pulled her hands away from her face with his free hand. He stuck his thumb inside her mouth, encouraging her to suck. Y/N looked down at her boyfriend's figure, and she nearly came at the sight of him alone.

Aaron's dark, cropped hair fell over his forehead, damp with sweat. He was still in his shirt and trousers, though he had managed to roll up his sleeves, and his tie still sat loosely around his collar, its length thrown back over his shoulder as if he couldn't get to his feast fast enough.

He continued to work at her clit, his tongue flicking back and forth faster and harder as he felt Y/N's body twitch more and more out of control. When his mouth reached a near impossible rhythm, Y/N clenched her jaw, biting down on Aaron's fingers in her mouth as her body writhed, falling over and over again into an orgasmic high.

Aaron pressed a kiss to her sensitive core, then to the inside of her thighs. Running his hands up her torso, he pulled her up into a sitting position in front of him, her legs still spread wide on either side of him, and he allowed her to lean forward against his chest, against the soft cotton material of his shirt, too spent to hold up her own weight.

Y/N kissed him slowly, his mouth hot from her own heat. She took his face in her hands, feeling the light stubble across his jaw. She pulled back, taking a moment to observe his eyes. Whatever weariness had been there before, it was gone, replaced with a ravenous hunger that drank in her flushed skin and her dark, swollen lips. Y/N's pupils were blown wide with arousal, her hair had come apart, the wayward strands framing her face, and her glasses were askew, just barely balancing on the tip of her nose.

Aaron had never seen a prettier sight. He felt like a soldier come home to see his wife after years of war, like Odysseus returned to his wife Penelope after ten long years. Wait a second... Wife? Where did that come from?

Aaron reached out to pull off Y/N's glasses from her face, then tipped up her chin to catch her lips again with his own.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

Y/N finally pulled his tie loose, tossing it off to the side of the bed, and she carefully unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers moving nimbly but gently. Aaron tended to come back from his cases with bruises and scratches that always made Y/N's heart ache to see, but at the same time, it filled her with pride, not to mention turned her on, to know that her boyfriend was out saving the world, one bad guy at a time.

This time, Aaron had been spared any major or minor injuries, but still, Y/N took her time undressing him, kissing the old scars as she went.

Once she had stripped him bare, Aaron took her hands in his and pressed a deep kiss to her lips once again. Y/N reached down to take his stiff cock in her hands, but Aaron shook his head and pushed her back down onto the bed.

"I want to feel you," he said. "Now." He lay down beside her so that they faced each other, and he fingered her clit between them, making her arch into him. Aaron hissed when she grabbed his ass, digging her nails into the firm flesh, making him jerk his hips involuntarily.

He pushed the head of his cock into her tight core, and Y/N held her breath, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt his familiar form meld into her, a feeling she hadn't felt in weeks. A feeling she couldn't imagine how she could have gone without for this long.

"Open your eyes, Y/N," Aaron said in a breathy tone.

Y/N locked eyes with Aaron for only half a second before capturing his lips in a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue and hunger and longing. Pulling his body closer to her so that no space remained between them, Y/N buried her face in his neck, biting at the sensitive skin, then biting down on his shoulder especially hard when he hit a certain spot inside her.

Aaron wrapped one of her legs around himself to access her body at a better angle, and he felt her muffled moans vibrating against his shoulder. Fisting his hand in her hair and gripping her hip with his other hand, he increased the intensity of his thrusts until he was nearly falling over the edge, a jumbled string of curses leaving his mouth.

Y/N arched into him, her hardened nipples to sliding against his chest through the thin layer of sweat that mingled across their bodies, and her own hips started, her leg locking his body against hers  in a vice-like grip, tumbling once again over the edge, moaning Aaron's name against his skin over and over.

Aaron groaned his own release, pulling Y/N’s head back by her hair so that he could look at her face as she came apart, falling into pleasure and more in love with this girl whose lips were still muttering his name as she came down from her high.

"Aaron," she said between labored breaths. "Don't you ever leave me again. I don't want to spend another night without you."

Holding her in his arms, his eyes sweeping over her angelic face, Aaron would have given her the world if he could, and still, it wouldn't be close to what she deserved. He placed a kiss on her forehead and murmured empty promises against her skin, both knowing that eventually, he would leave, but also knowing that he would always come back, and that she would always be his waiting home.

[unforgetabelle]

FINALLY I’m getting around to editing and posting some of the stuff I’ve been working on over the last ehhh...year? (This one was started in Nov 2017 as my doc reminded me. eekk -_-)

Anywhoo, it’s a continuation of my series of stand alone stories that fit together (Coming Around Again), so I hope you enjoy!

____________________________________________

A New Start

ao3  |  fanfiction

Marinette stared down in disbelief, struck motionless by the object in her hand. Something meaningless turned precious in the blink of an eye. She almost hadn’t bought it, thinking she was just stressed...crazy...imagining things. It seemed wasteful. A waste of plastic. Was it even recyclable? She didn’t even know! Clearly she was not ready for this responsibility. Was it too soon? She didn’t feel prepared. What if she was horrible at it?

Her mind started to spiral and her knees gave out. She caught herself on the edge of the bathtub and sat there. Setting the pregnancy test on the closed toilet seat, she closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing. Then she imagined his face. 

Adrien when she tells him the news, shock morphing into exuberance as he picks her up and swings her in a circle...Adrien singing in his horribly off-tune voice to her growing stomach...Adrien disheveled from lack of sleep, rocking a baby in a sunny-yellow nursery...Adrien zooming a spoon like an airplane into the giggling mouth of a baby, pureed carrots somehow smeared across his smiling face...Adrien effortlessly braiding their daughter’s hair on her first day of school, the two singing along for the millionth time to a child’s song...Adrien shouting on the sidelines of her soccer game, pride in his eyes as she falls but gets right back up again… Adrien shopping for prom dresses with the keen eye of a fashion mogul’s son and spending an obscene amount of money on the one that is just perfect...Adrien clapping and cheering louder than anyone could imagine as she walks across the stage and accepts her university diploma...Adrien, gray and distinguished, walking their daughter down the aisle, tears in his eyes as his lips linger lovingly on her forehead before giving her away…

She opened her eyes and looked back down at the stick, her hands coming to rest on her still-flat abdomen and her breathing normalizing again. She may not know if she could handle this, but together, they could. 

“Marinette?” She looked up to see Tikki’s head peeking through the bathroom door. Her eyes immediately on her chosen’s face, trying to decipher the riot of emotions there, until Tikki’s gaze fell to the test in front of her and tears spring to her eyes.

“Marinette?” Tikki asked again, her tone irrevocably changed as she regarded her girl with shining eyes.

“I’m pregnant, Tikki,” Marinette said out loud for the first time, her voice shaky with disbelief but lips turning into a hesitant smile. She watched through a watery gaze herself as Tikki pummeled into her face, the two laughing joyously at the wonderful news.

Tikki floated back, her face glowing with excitement as she bobbed in the air.

“You’re going to be a marvelous mother, Marinette.”

“You really think so?” Marinette let her insecurity infuse her tone, looking at her friend with a worried gaze. 

“Of course! Is that what you’ve been doing in here so long? Quietly panicking?” Tikki fixed her with her all-knowing gaze and Marinette just grimaced in response. Her kwami rolled her eyes, affectionately tugging a strand of Marinette’s hair.

“Okay, up, up! We need to go tell Adrien!”

“What, now?” Marinette laughed, her own excitement building at Tikki’s response. “He’s on patrol,” she reminded her friend, remembering Adrien’s strict orders to stay home and rest when she mentioned feeling a bit queasy earlier that night. 

“So, find him,” Tikki emphasized her words. “Let him tell you what an amazing mother you will be instead of silently stewing here in a pot of irrational fears.”

“I’m not stewing,” Marinette muttered, letting Tikki pull her out into the living room. Her kwami just gave her a sarcastic look and Marinette sighed.

“Okay, okay, fine. You win,” she acquiesced and Tikki smiled triumphantly. “Tikki, spots on!”

Sparing a moment to glance out their back window--to make sure no one had decided today to start taking in the sights of the back alley--Ladybug  confirmed the the coast was clear before lassoing the chimney of the adjacent building and pulling herself up to roof. She broke out into a sprint immediately. Even all these years later, there was nothing quite like the feeling of running full-speed across the rooftops of her city. Feet light and wind in her hair, she craved the burn in her muscles as she pushed them to their enhanced, miraculous limit.

She wondered how this would change. She knew enough to not think that she would have to stop her patrols completely. Exercise wouldn’t affect the baby, although the citizens of Paris might be shocked to see a pregnant Ladybug swinging along the Parisian cityscape. She’d have to back off from any dangerous situations for a while, but Chat was more than capable of handling akuma victims, and she could be close by to cleanse them. Maybe Fu even had some ideas about what to do. This couldn’t be the first time a miraculous holder needed to take a brief hiatus. 

Except, it wouldn’t exactly be brief. Newborns took a lot of time and effort too, and it wasn’t like they could call a babysitter every time an akuma appeared. Not only would that look suspicious, but the pesky butterflies had a habit of picking the most inconvenient times to appear. Maybe if they lived closer to her parents…

Ladybug mind was still negotiating internally with herself when the din finally reached her; the unmistakable sound of a battle far too familiar to her ears. She ran faster, reaching the clearing and spotting Chat in no time, but this was different from any battle she’d seen before.

The streets were clear on the late summer night, no civilians even hovering at the edge of the fight to watch, and when Marinette finally recognized Chat’s opponent, she understood why. He wasn’t battling just another akuma. He was battling Hawkmoth himself, and as she watched him block his assailant’s parries, always on the defensive, Ladybug realized something worse.

Chat was losing.

~*~

Chat could concentrate on nothing other than the adrenaline that coursed through his entire body and he cursed himself for allowing the whim of nostalgia that brought him to this moment. With Marinette ill, and him patrolling along for the first time in recent memory, Chat found himself tracing an old familiar route from his first years as Chat, which inevitably took him by his childhood home. It had been four years since he’d seen his father last. After their falling out over his mother’s ring, Adrien never saw Gabriel again. He received an unfeeling card every birthday, and Gabriel had sent a gift and note to the wedding, but other than in fashion magazines, his own father’s face had become a relic of the past. So, as he vaulted past the austere stone house, Chat couldn’t help but take a quick look.

Maybe it was curiosity or some lingering nostalgia for a time when the house had held some joy, but Chat found himself hopping the fence and taking in his old surroundings with the strange disjointed view of his older self. Approaching the house from a completely different angle than he ever had before, his gaze caught a flash of purple light from the rose window at the rear of the property. Strange, he thought, how you could live somewhere for so long and completely miss design elements. Chat must’ve noticed that window before, but he couldn’t conjure it up in his memory. He supposed he’d spent so many years trying to escape this place, he’d never really gotten to know his own home. 

Movement in the window caught his eye again, and Chat couldn’t help but give into his curiosity, scaling the large plane tree in the back yard until he had a clear view into the window.

What he saw there changed everything.

The man on the other side of the window stood in the center of the barren room, framed dramatically in the light of the moon through the ornately shaped glass. His eyes were immediately on Chat.

Whether it was the movement in the tree or his glowing green eyes that gave him away, Chat didn’t know, and he didn’t stay to find out, jumping from the tree and vaulting as far away as he possibly could. When he reached a small empty plaza on the edge of the arrondissement where he currently lived, he finally stopped, mind reeling with what his eyes just witnessed.

That’s where his father found him

Chat didn’t know how long he’d stood in that empty plaza, but when Hawkmoth appeared, he finally began to function again, the rage pouring through his body.

“How could you!” Chat spat, fists clenched and eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

Hawkmoth didn’t even flinch at the venom in his voice, though his eyebrow quirked in consideration, studying Chat like an interesting specimen.

“I suspected this years ago,” he intoned finally, hands resting casually together on his cane in front of him. “I thought I had disproved my theroy of you being Chat, but I should have known when I saw that ring on your finger. Apparently, my affection clouded my judgement.”

“Affection,” Chat repeated, rage giving way to pure disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

Hawkmoth sighed in exasperation.

“I’m not in the mood for one of your tantrums, son.”

“No,” Chat raised a hand, his mind finally clear. Resolve infusing in him as he regarded the man in front of him anew. This wasn’t his father. Not anymore. He’d made that choice long ago for both of them, and while it stung to know his father had been the antagonist of his entire life, it also filled him with pity. What must his father’s existence truly be like?

“No,” Chat repeated. “This isn’t about us. This is about your actions for the last decade, and it ends now.”

He took a step towards the man who was his father and held out his hand.

“Give me the miraculous, Gabriel.”

Hawkmoth’s eyes narrowed slightly as he appraised the man in front of him but made no move to surrender. 

“I did this for us,” he finally said, his voice taking on an unfamiliar soft tone, and Chat steeled his will against the explanation he knew would follow. “For our family. This was the only way to save us.”

“It’s too late--”

“To save your mother.”

Hawkmoth’s words stopped Chat’s next words, but he refused to let himself be taunted with the impossible. His father was clearly unwell. This man had unknowingly and then knowingly put his own child in direct danger of akumas for years, and now he expected that same son to believe it had all been for him? For their family? Chat just shook his head sadly.

“Maman is dead,” he replied.

“Not forever,” Hawkmoth finally took a step towards him, an unnatural gleam in his eye. “I just don’t have the power yet, but with your miraculous--” 

“Hawkmoth--”

“--and Ladybug’s, I’ll be able to perform the ritual--”

“Gabriel--”

“I’ve preserved her for years, planned for years--”

“Father!” Chat finally shouted, bringing his mad ramblings to an end. The shell of his father looked at him again, confusion coloring his expression when he didn’t find his own excitement reflected on his son’s face.

“Adrien, she’s not missing, that’s just what I told everyone. I can bring her back.”

“No,” Chat shook his head, voice strained as he pushed past the pain of the final confirmation that his mother was truly dead. “No, you can’t”

“I can.”

“You won’t,” Chat amended. “It’s not natural, and she wouldn’t have wanted it. I won’t allow it.”

“Allow it?” He hissed in return. Hawkmoth’s eyes morphed, tilting dangerously in a split second, and Chat finally realized just how broken his father had become.

“Give me your miraculous, father.”

“You think you can command me?” he laughed, shaking his head erratically. “You’ve always been an insolent--”

“Gabriel--”

“MY NAME IS HAWKMOTH,” he shouted with abandon. “And this ends now.”

[polarishq]

Meet SHILOH POWELL. They are UNKNOWN/THIRTY TWO years old and hail from JERSEY CITY, NEW JERSEY. Shiloh embodies the constellation, PHOENIX. They use she/her pronouns. Their faceclaim is EMMY ROSSUM.

Phoenix reminds me of Hey What’s Up You Guys, Welcome Back to My Channel, imposter syndrome, only knowing second-hand love, the sterile smell of a hospital room, can’t do math (both because of the gay and because she’s never had a formal education), trying to navigate the terrifying world of Instagram notoriety, a sudden shift in the mannerisms of someone you’ve known your whole life, private hobbies learned in rare spare moments, an unwilling devotion to the stars, the story of Sisyphus, an attention to detail, beanies. Beanies in every color. So many beanies, universal across time and space and identities. A secret beanie cove. Beanies!!!!!!!!

BIOGRAPHY

Major TWs: Various terminal illnesses, and talking about them in a somewhat casual manner.

When Shiloh wakes up as Shiloh, she comes to know herself as a twenty-nine year old Twitter-famous witch with a heart defect, and the first thing that springs to mind is: “Well, at least it’s not another brain tumor.” When you have a mission, particularly when you don’t know what that mission actually is, brain tumors are problematic; they affect your mood, and your memory, and as they grow, your cognitive functions begin to slow, making your already limited time on earth more difficult to navigate. For someone like Shiloh, who has a short yet undetermined amount of time to fulfill a task, staying in operation until the end is imperative. Of course, heart problems come with their own set of complications; namely, she doesn’t know when time is running out. One day she can be out on the town, smokin’ cigarettes and fucking strangers and having a grand ol’ time, and the next—boom, dead.

Shiloh has been a puppet for the stars for centuries, now, as have all who have been cursed with the Phoenix sponsorship, and it’s frankly a pain in the ass. When Shiloh first came into consciousness, it was somewhere in the astral plane, face to face with the former Phoenix—a boy with bags under his eyes, a failure, tasked with passing the torch onto his successor before their spirit dies permanently. The message was simple: “To live, you must complete the task before your current body dies. Your time is limited, you do not know what it is ahead of time, but it is a significant goal that impacts the world in some way, even if you cannot see that in the moment. If you succeed, you live out the remainder of that body’s life before you move onto the next. If you fail, you get no second chances. You die, and that is it.” … Load of fucking bullshit, if you ask her, because who does that? But sure enough, Shiloh blinked and woke up in the body of a young girl with tuberculosis, and from that point on, it’s been nonstop.

It’s also worth noting that Shiloh is not really Shiloh, though for the sake of this life, she is. She actually doesn’t know who she is, as she’s constantly assuming the identities of others and must step as seamlessly as possible into their lives without drawing a great deal of attention to herself, which is neither easily said nor done. She has formed hobbies that follow her from one life to the next, has developed her own set of moral standards, but there is not much freedom in the way that she lives. Sometimes she is born a wife, or a grandpa, or a moody teenager. Sometimes she has a week, or several decades. She’s not always born into the body of a witch, but her powers seem to follow her where she goes—occasionally they coincide with the original host, but not always. Mostly, she doesn’t know why she continues to live life the way she does. There is nothing to gain aside from the possibility of perhaps one day finding peace, or happiness, or love, which Shiloh has only come to know second hand (waking up in the bed of someone’s lover, feeling the way they touch her and knowing that person was loved so deeply, but it’s not her, she’s merely an intruder, always an intruder). It’s a thankless job (congratulations, you did it, have an autoimmune disorder as a display of our undying gratitude!). Every life she comes to realize more and more what she will never have, but for now, she continues to fulfill her duties as though something might one day change.

Anyway, when Shiloh wakes up as Shiloh, not only can she tell she’s a twenty-nine year old witch with an ungodly amount of Twitter notifications, but she’s quick to find out she’s famous this time. Not, like, Angelina Jolie with the paparazzi kind of famous, but Youtube famous, with a boisterous channel with millions of followers and daily content, an aesthetic Instagram and—for the love of God—a fucking TikTok account. This comes with the perk of being able to review hours of content of the body she’s inhabiting, picking up quirks and mannerisms and speech patterns, but also with the added complication of being under the scrutiny of a lot of people. Documented slip-ups are never good. Shiloh also comes to find that she can’t just disappear, because she’s the oldest of a large, loud Jersey family who depends on her income to keep a roof over their heads, so it’s not like she can exactly start a scandal and get herself “cancelled” as was her original inclination. Fine.

What she does do is eventually take her channel down to weekly posts, boosts her acceptance of Instagram ads to supplement the income (those are pretty easy), and enrolls at Polaris, where she’s found her missions take her often these days. It’s always weird, seeing people she knows and has formed relationships with under different identities, but it doesn’t take her terribly long to adapt, as it’s not the first time she’s had to wrestle with this notion.

Although her first few months at Polaris were uneventful, the day Shiloh met Light, who introduced her to a famous serial killer group called the Lunatics, she felt the first piece of the puzzle click into place. She’d like to say she fit in like a glove, but that’s only an accurate depiction if we’re talking about that OJ Simpson glove; suspicious, divisive, and enigmatic. Her appearance caused problems from the get-go, though that was likely because she’d infiltrated their ranks and was the one who felt most comfortable calling Light out on their abusive bullshit. When Light began to abuse her too, locking her up in rooms, staving her, putting her though physical and mental trauma to try and beat her in line, Shiloh only felt like she was getting closer and closer to what the stars actually wanted. Maybe Light needed to be handled, or perhaps the others needed to be freed, or perhaps the Lunatics would lead her to a certain mark. Whatever it was, Shiloh felt confident that she was on the right path.

—Light’s dead, now. No matter the who, or the what, or the why, for this immediate bullet point, and things are in disarray. Shiloh hasn’t received any indication that she’s solved her mission, and with this new distraction, she’s terrified that her clock is running out and she’s been wasting her time with a group that has nothing to do with what Phoenix actually wants from her this go-around. But she can’t just disappear, because some of them suspect her as it is given her newcomer status, and Shiloh’s got too much at stake in this current lifetime (the Powell kids, the fact that she finally got James Charles to follow her back on Instagram, having no other leads), so she remains in it. Might as well see this through until the bitter end.

INCLINATION

Those with the Phoenix sponsorship are not truly people, but simply a consciousness; meant to be a foot soldier for the stars, Phoenix is always a passionate, cunning individual with an affinity for fire magic, though sometimes they inhabit bodies of witches with different inclinations and can pick up some of those skills, though they lose them again as soon as they’re reborn. These individuals wake up in the body of a person, always with a limited lifespan (often a terminal illness, though occasionally death is destined another way) and is given that limited time on earth to fulfill a certain duty for the stars; if they succeed, they are reborn, but if they fail, the torch passes on. Phoenix is one of the more cursed constellations, despite most people thinking its’ representative of second chances, but with the right person at the helm, Phoenix makes more of an impact on the world at large than most people will ever know.

CONNECTIONS

In the Know: This is either a Polaris staff member/professor, townsperson, or someone who’s been around for centuries that knows the nature of Phoenix and is the one common thread who has known Shiloh throughout multiple identities/rebirths. They might be helping Shiloh try and find a way to keep one identity and be able to live life the way she wants, so she seeks them out early so they can continue their work.

Fan: Someone who’s been watching Shiloh’s channel for years and picked up on the shift in her demeanor. They’re likely nosy and Shiloh avoids them at all costs.

Sibling: Fuck it, a younger sibling who’s also at Polaris and is probably also low key suspicious of changes in Shiloh’s behavior. Bonus points if it’s Jeremy Allen White.

Filling Maryanne Brooks’ #WifeGoals.

Filling Ethan King’s Bad Influence.

Filling Izabel Navorra’s You Spin Me Right Round.

Penned by Ashley★

[viranlly]

I hopped off the plane on LAX with my appetite and my chambray short-suit. The weather this time in the City of Angels was, to my surprise, bearable (knowing it’s the end of August and I’m a seasoned complainer about the heat). After a two hour something flight from Bellingham (thanks Allegiant!), we cruised through the also surprisingly smooth LA traffic to DTLA.

Our crib for the week was shiny and new, ultra-chic, with multi-million dollar view of Downtown Los Angeles. LEVEL furnished living is not only strategically located in the heart of DTLA, it’s equipped with amazing amenities (pool, outdoor theatre, spacious gym with its own room for Peloton - yes, I worked out during this trip), and did I mention the view from our 29th-floor suite was spectacular?! What made this stay particularly memorable tho,was the level of hospitality we received from their all-star team: impeccable with personalities bubblier than a chilled grapefruit LaCroix!

My memory of DTLA only goes as far as a mid-May pool party on top of the ACE hotel. But this time, I really got to explore the hood - and it was lovely. Of course there are those quintessential Los Angeles institutions (HA!): celebrity Whole Foods, Sweetgreens, and Bottega Louie but I obvs. skipped the healthy-ish stuff and went straight to the important ones. Cocktail bars - surprise!

On our first night, however, I was in the mood for wine. Natural wine. Upon a little research, we stumbled upon Garçons de Café, a rustic-chic French wine bar with sizeable library of vino that includes several bottles of skin-contact and natural wines. A glass of Le p’tit Barriot Syrah was poured to start the evening: full-ish body, bursts of floral and stone-fruit with just the right amount of tannin and spices too. It would’ve been a perfect serenade-me-to-bed kind of wine but nonetheless it was delicious even to start the evening.

Before I ran out of battery, we made it to the Nomad Los Angeles and caught a second wind. The DTLA chapter offers the classic Nomad feels: luscious, velvety, old-school bank-turned-to-hotel with a touch of California sunshine. Colours, textures and prints fill the lobby bar. Photogenic and poetic. Serving up the classics from the NYC counterpart, original, some large format (cocktails for 2), and even larger format (for 3-4,‘depending on your tolerance’ they said) libations, it’s one of those places to see and be seen, to drink and to be (day) drunk. Bonus point for the attractive staffs HA!

I had to come back to the ACE just to relive my youth one more time. Surrounding myself with hype kids, who, most likely would have released more than one EPs in their early 20s, it was adorable. It terms of the menu, It was more a tequila soda with a side of overpriced cold-pressed juice for me.

Conveniently located behind our apartment, is the Broken Shaker. A rooftop pool bar with bumpin’ music and killer tiki cocktails. Fun, colourful, rum and tequila-focused menu with late-night bar bites, it’s a perfect place for a nightcap, especially when you live literally steps away!

DTLA’s sunshine, full-blast air conditioning and fluffy pillows somehow made my hangover less dreadful and more manageable. I had two options: go downstairs and check out the smoothie bar, or go downstairs, turn the corner and get shake shack. I feel like this was an obvious choice when one is in LA, but you never know, cause a lady never shack and tell 😏.

We spent the afternoon exploring the jewelry district as we made our way to the Grand Central Market. A food-enthusiast Mecca with tons of vendors that are uniquely DTLA: from eggslut to oyster bar, Filipino-inspired rice bowls to cold-pressed juice and tacos (obvs), everything is available in one, huge-ass foodhall.

Right across the street from GCM, is the staircase that leads you to the other side of DTLA. The financial district (I assume), the Broad and the Walt Disney Concert Hall. This hike (yes, I considered this steps a hike) took my breath away, literally. My out-of-breath self rejoiced when I saw the Kogi truck waiting for us at the top - worth every step. Naturally, we made a pit-stop for the infamous short rib tacos, which, hit the spot.

*intermission* We went to the Broad, saw some Basquiat and Murakami, took photos of some Koons, almost saw Kusama yada yada yada skipped the Runyon and took nap...*

Fast forward to dinner time!

Honestly one of the things that I am most excited about during this trip was our dinner at Petit Trois. The middle sister restaurant from the award-winning, celebrity chef Ludo Lefebvre (who’s also behind Trois Mec and Ludo Bird). Offering classic French cuisine meets Los Angeles strip-malls. Juxtaposition at its finest and most delicious form.

The 35-seater restaurant is bustling with people coming in and out, basting in the aroma of butter and fresh-baked bagutte. J’ador - Je’ very hungry!

Both the cocktail and wine list are well-curated to accompany the Parisian bistro-style food menu. No fuzz no muss. Tartare de boeuf, escargot that’s bathed in butter and garlic (extra baguette), steak frites, perfectly fluffy, shiny and spotless French omelette of my dream, and I cannot stress how bummed I was that we didn’t order the burger. Tres bien, parfait!

This evening turned into a whirlwind of tequila sodas and bar hopping along WeHo that I honestly can’t really recall the deets 😏 but it was the perfect Friday night, thanks to my lovely companion ❤️

I started the last day in LA with a pleasant surprise. My hangover was a no show - honestly, at this age, this is a big win. I hopped on a uber to the art district for a cute coffee meeting with an old friend Blake and his lovely wife Ashley at the newly opened Verve coffee. The property is HUGE, it might as well be a mall. They also take my morning coffee experience to the next level with their “cocktail” menu: no booze just buzz. It was very fascinating and exciting - exactly what we need back here in Vancouver.

We spent the last couple hours wandering around Abbott Kinney and Venice beach. My goodness the people here are too pretty for their own sake. Jeremy even insisted to go to muscle beach for a little pull-up session. I was just there, sipping my CBD-infused lemonade, sticking out like the sore thumb - it was hysterical.

A hop, skip and an hour nap later, I came back to Nomad for one last cocktail. Still hoping for a meet-cute with a good looking, well-dressed, fresh out of Hollywood star to happen. It did not happen.

I took my hungry self to KazuNori, the original handroll sushi bar, just couple blocks away from the Nomad. The yellowtail and the scallop were particularly stellar that night - and the sea bass sashimi was also a big winner. I don’t know if it’s an LA thing or whatever, but the couple next to me shared six pieces of handrolls. I successfully stuffed 12 rolls to myself. Oh well - it was f*ckin delicious.

With three hours of sleep, I gathered myself and started packing. We watched the sunrise on the way to LAX, half alive but fully grateful.

I absolutely can’t wait to go back to LA. I mean, I didn’t get a chance to eat KBBQ this time... so Elay, I’ll be back!

Thanks again to Allegiant! for the fabulous flight and LEVEL furnished living for the hospitality!

[theteaisaddictive]

okay but you can't just tease us with a wedding meme mentioning ejts in the tags. spill :D

ask and ye shall receive my dear :D

1) Who proposes? 2) How do they propose? 3) Reaction of the one being proposed to

in the middle of the chaos post-transformation, belle probably whispers to eve that she never wants to leave her side again. 

‘i know, i know,’ eve whispers. ‘i remember. i’ll never leave you again.’

‘no, i-’ belle says. ‘i mean, i want to stay with you forever’, and she drops to one knee right there on the newly-constructed balcony, still strewn with rose petals and the rosy-fingered dawn. she holds out her left hand palm-up. ‘do you?’

eve joins her kneeling on the ground, her legs still shaking from the transformation. she takes her hand, her eyes almost shockingly large now that they’re in a human face. ‘yes. yes. yes, belle, dearest, of course.’ she leans over and they kiss.

they kiss for quite a while. 

4) How they tell the others

chip, of course, asks as soon as the general excitement levels have gone down, ‘are they gonna get married?’

the senior staff all glance at each other wondering who’s going to have to finally teach this emblem of hope for the future about homophobia, but before the silence can get more than half a step beyond natural, eve chimes in with an ‘of course we are, chip. in fact, belle asked me not twenty minutes ago and i said yes.’

while mrs potts is relieved that eve is human again and that she’s no longer cold and cruel-hearted, she notices a certain fire in eve’s eyes that came straight from her father – the stubbornness which means she’s going to get her own way come hell or high water. it used to apply to hunting, and petty matters of daily life. mrs potts is proud to see it used to marry belle. 

(marie doesn’t find out that they’re married for … a while. how long an interval it’s going to be? haven’t decided yet.)

5) Who’d they choose as ring bearer

chip, of course! who else?

6) Who’s the one that spends the most time worrying about preps for the wedding?

surprisingly, there isn’t actually a lot of time to prep for the wedding. neither of them have much of a taste for fancy celebrations and would prefer a simple ceremony, so that’s what they choose. (but yes, eve does manage to get her bee in a bonnet regardless)

7) When they go looking for their outfits

it’s less ‘looking for outfits’ and more ‘repurposing old ones’. belle would be more than happy to just wear her best blue dress, but even though eve had a transformative experience shaped by queer love, she’s adamant that belle has a new, different dress she’s never worn before for the ceremony (so belle is in basically the celebration dress from the remake, and eve is in essentially ella’s wedding dress from the 2015 film but minus the train. yes i am trash. no i refuse to apologise.)

IMAGINE THESE BLUSHING BRIDES. ALSO YOU WILL HAVE TO IMAGINE THEM AGAIN FOR ROSES AND LAVENDER BUT PRETEND FOR A MOMENT THAT LILY JAMES IS PORTRAYING A GENDER-SWAPPED BEAST HERE AND NOT CINDERELLA

8) Fusses over the other before the wedding day

they’re both very concerned about each other and it’s very sweet. they both stay up the night before the wedding in the library, keeping close together as midnight approaches. belle rubs her fingers soothingly against eve’s head and intermittently finger-combs her hair, and eve absent-mindedly runs her hand in circles over belle’s back as they talk quietly about tomorrow. 

9) Reactions to their wedding attire

ok so how i picture it is that since neither of them have people to give them away (léon and cogsworth offered their services, but both women declined), they mirror the ballroom scene so their first glimpses of each other are as they go down the stairs to the landing before descending to the ballroom proper. both of them almost stop in their tracks because of how BEAUTIFUL and RADIANT and HAPPY the other looks to be marrying HER. eve cries two tiny tears before she even reaches the landing. 

10) Who whispers the other “you look great”

belle to eve. they’re holding hands as they walk towards the servants, lefou and stanley, wait why are those two there what plot points will they be relevant to and léon

11) How are they feeling during vows

nervous as all fuck. jittery. excited. overjoyed. eve actually does start to cry during her vows. belle doesn’t, but she gets very, very close. 

12) What do their rings look like?

simple, thin gold bands. they wear them on their right hands. 

13) The kiss

the vows are exchanged. the rings placed. cogsworth looks at eve, whom he’s known and loved for the best part of a decade. ‘and now, by the power invested in me by the princess of this realm, i declared you to be married. you may now kiss the bride.’

belle smiles so wide that it hurts her cheeks, and she and eve take a step forwards at the same time. eve sweeps her into the kiss, one hand resting on her waist while the other cups belle’s neck. belle rests her own hand on the plane of eve’s back, allowing her other hand to brush eve’s shoulder as she kisses her wife. and for a moment in that kiss, it’s like their first up on the balcony – uncertain and desperately tender. eve breaks to take a breath, and belle pulls her back in for another kiss, their lips moving gently as the gathered congregation cheers. because they kissed. because they’re married. because eve is her wife.

14) What do they whisper to each other after vows?

nothing. they just look at each other. they’ve already said everything. 

15) When cutting their cake, and afterwards

the wedding breakfast is basically a garden party in the grounds with the staff and aforementioned guests. there is enough food and cake and drinks for everyone, and as the afternoon fades into the evening the mood goes from bright and joyous to quietly happy, but in that way where the amount of emotion present is the same it’s just expressed differently if that makes any kind of sense. both brides make speeches, and both begin their speech with ‘on behalf of my wife and i …’ (they had to make lumiere flip a coin bc they both wanted to go first but didn’t want to take the chance away from the other and it was halfway to becoming one of those stupid fights that in a sitcom would be the episode one cliffhanger of the wedding two-parter, but luckily lumiere was in possession of the throuple’s two brain cells that morning so he managed to de-escalate the situation.) belle went first, but the line got the obligatory cheer from the guests both times. 

16) The two dancing together

chapeau (or a Chapeau-Adjacent Character bc atm i can’t remember if i wrote him in or not) starts playing the fiddle, and the wives take their place on the ballroom floor (the reception has moved back inside by now). think home (reprise), the high note then gently glissandos down to the beginning of beauty and the beast. (can you glissando on a violin? idk. maybe it’s just a piano thing but you know what i’m trying to get across here)

they dance the steps that they first performed while eve was still a bird, and then eventually devolve into a gentle waltz. 

after the first dance, it’s country dances for all!! poor chapeau has his work cut out for him, but léon can play and stanley brought his accordion so by the end of the night everybody who has to play gets to dance to at least three songs. 

17) Who takes a picture of the other

not applicable! HOWEVER plumette takes quick sketches throughout the day, and in later years belle and eve have official portraits taken in their wedding dresses on repeat wears, so between one and the other they have plenty of memories.

18) Who lifts the other up (bridal style)

eve sweeps belle off her feet (again) (it’s something of a recurring motif for them)

19) The reaction of the person being carried

belle laughs, shrieking a little because she was caught off-guard. she presses small kisses to eve’s cheek and neck until her arms give out and she has to put belle down again. 

20) Wedding night

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

no, no, no, i’ll be genuine (and mildly explicit). they leave (eventually). chip fell asleep about an hour ago. the night is (fairly) young. they go up to the west wing together. eve can’t stop grinning. she has a wife. 

once safely in the west wing, they help each other out of the fine materials of their dresses and remove their stays, but otherwise stay pretty much fully dressed. they pile up on eve’s bed, in a similar position to how they were in the library the night before; belle is lying directly on the pillows, while eve is resting with her head on belle’s shoulder and their legs intertwined. before long, of course, they start kissing. and they clutch at each other, pressing so close they can feel their heartbeats through the layers of muscle and bone and fabric. and eve takes a very long time to roll belle’s stockings down her legs, kissing each inch as it appears. and then she kisses several other areas of her wife’s body (and belle can barely look at her as she does it, but the sight of that blonde head between her legs causes her to dig her fingers into eve’s hair, and that was a rather interesting discovery for both of them). and then belle, after a moment to catch her breath, pushes eve over to her back and pulls off her chemise. and she is just as slow as eve was, tracing her hands over eve’s body, and when she does finally push eve’s chemise away to press her lips to naked skin, the look in eve’s eyes is one she never forgets.

and then, after a long while, eve says, ‘we’re married. you’re my wife.’

‘and you’re my wife,’ belle says just as quietly. she presses a kiss to the top of eve’s forehead. 

‘i never thought this would happen,’ she says. ‘not even before the curse. i thought i would be like my mother, and that the most i could hope for was either to have a husband who would be kinder or to live as an old maid.’

belle wraps her arm around eve’s shoulders a little tighter, as if she wants to protect the girl of eighteen whom she never even met. knowing belle, eve thinks, that’s probably the case. 

‘i’m so glad i met you, eve,’ she says. ‘i never thought this kind of love could be possible. i’m beyond overjoyed that it’s with you.’

she cards her fingers through eve’s hair, the glint of her ring catching in the moonlight. a few minutes later, eve rearranges their positions, so that they’re both covered by the warm blankets and she’s pressed into belle’s back, her arms draped around her. their hands find each other under the covers, and they fall asleep peacefully on their first day of married life.

[joongi-twins]

Home

Kim Namjoon x Reader (ft. Min Yoongi & other members)  Genre: Angst, sadness, fluff Word Count: 3,357

They all say leaving is the hardest part. But, in all reality, that’s one of the easiest parts. It’s all the days apart that are truly the hardest. The days that feel like years, that drag on for what seems like eternity, the inability to see each other each and every day. The waking up to an empty, cold, bed makes it all the worse. Just reminding you that you are both truly on opposite sides of the world. The daily texting, face-timing, and calling most certainly dulls the pain, but not forever. Not at night, when the pain is truly the worst. Not when nights are spent staring at the hotel wall, unable to sleep, or even close your eyes, because all you see is their face. Reminding you, that they aren’t there next to you, to hold you, to caress you, most of all, to just be there.

Reaching over to the other side of the bed with one hand, the other gripping the pillow strongly, arm completely extended. Closed eyes displaying the tiredness and exhaustion of the separation, she reaches out in her deep sleep for the man she holds closest. She hadn’t seen him, or more like they haven’t seen each other, face to face, for 6 months, which seemed like eternity for the pair. The pair in which everyone seemed to ship together and support, no matter what they went through, or the hate in which she received. There always seemed to be people who cherished their relationship, and even lived vicariously through them, as though they were them.

He wasn’t any better than she was. His bandmates could tell, it was difficult for the two to be separated for such a long period of time. His dancing, had gotten sloppier, messier, he had begun to break everything he touched, because of his natural clumsiness, and his more recent uncaringness. His health had even begun to decline for an amount of time, but she, of course noticed during one of their less-frequent face-times. She noticed his cheekbones protruding more than usual, his normally bright doe-like eyes sunken into his face, the bags under his eyes, she noticed it all. And she didn’t hesitate for even a second to call him out on it. From that moment, he decided to keep himself perfectly healthy, for her sake, of course. If it wasn’t for her, he probably would’ve starved himself by now.

His members began to really worry about him. When they went out, he spent his nights at home, staring at whatever drama happened to be on tv that night. The only times he went out, were to go to practice, which the other members at times had to physically drag him to, or to his studio and work on songs for nights on end. He has been eating on his own, which was a relief to the members, that he still had the motivation to stay healthy at least.

This didn’t halt their worry, however. Being their leader and all, it was difficult for them to work on anything with him in such a state. It wasn’t just him being down, however, it was all the members. The general energy level of the group had lowered significantly and all the boys mostly just moped about the practice room. They did, however, try to keep the mood light, and as energetic as they could muster, for their leader, their role model, for him. It seemed to be working, to an extent, but if something, even the slightest thing showed up, that reminded him of her, it was over. He wouldn’t cry, no, he would walk away, get as far away from the object as humanly possible. He couldn’t handle 6 whole months without her. For him, it was hell.

It was a good thing, then, that she had a plan. A plan to surprise her boyfriend of 3 years, and to do it, she was collaborating with one of the band members. Her best friend, Min Yoongi. Ironically, she met her current boyfriend, through Yoongi, when she was assigned to their group, as assistant of some sort, when she was first hired at the company. She was assigned to BTS because she knew one of the members already, as someone whom she bumped into a cafe from when she first moved to the country. Being a foreigner, most looked at her weird, her features sticking out like a sore thumb in the crowd, but Yoongi didn’t mind, and embraced it. In fact they both embraced her awkwardness and welcomed her to their close family of 7. There, she met the love of her life, and him, his.

So here she was, up until nearly 3 in the morning, packing her suitcases, as her business trip had finally ended, and a couple months early at that. Texting Yoongi, in the midst of creating that master plan of theirs, they decided it to be best to keep it hidden from the other members, as Jung Hoseok over there doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, and Yoongi apparently likes to see the other members cry. Seems kind of sadistic to her, but who is she to judge. I mean, it is Yoongi after all, who just sleeps all day, god forbid he actually do something for once in his life. But, all insults aside, Yoongi is lovable, in his own special way just like all the other members, and it is guaranteed, that one day, he’ll find his special person.

Her plane back to Seoul leaves at 5 in the morning, so she decided it was about time to head out. As, going through airport security is bound to be a pain in the ass, per usual. But it’ll all be worth it, once she gets to see him again, after the 6 longest months anyone would ever experience.

In Seoul, he was getting progressively worse, emotional stability wise. It wasn’t the lack of support, it was just hard without her. She hadn’t responded to any of his texts or calls the previous night, either. Which made this photoshoot he was at, all the much harder. It didn’t help, that every single song that they played reminded him of her. He hadn’t quite broken yet, which he was somewhat proud of himself for, but he had a bad feeling, that he wouldn’t last much longer. And she wasn’t supposed to come home for another month, which just brought his mood down even more, but he placed on his mask, in which he smiles to show his fans that he’s truly ‘okay’ and that they have nothing to worry about. It is truly difficult to determine his emotions just because of how well the man hides them, behind his aesthetic instagram posts and his fake smile, that truly, looks real.

All 7 of the boys walked into the photo shoot, with heads held high, but hearts low. They all missed her, more than they could admit, but they had to do this, to get their minds set on something else, and more importantly, to keep up their public image. ‘This is what she wants’ they need to remind themselves near constantly, because she had always said that their image was more important than herself, which is, of course, ridiculous in the boys’ eyes but they went along with it anyway.

After the group pictures, and Yoongi’s solo pictures, he made the claim that he was going to go get food for everyone, bringing the mood of the entire room up, he made his exit. Getting food was only part of the mystery of where he was going, as he happened to be going to pick her up from her and Namjoon’s home, where she had been residing since roughly noon. Picking up a pizza on the way to her, he quickly made his way to knock on the door of the residency, only for it to swing open as he raised his fist to knock. There she stood, 5’6 in all her glory, teary eyed with the creme oversized sweater hanging partially off of her right shoulder, faded, ripped jeans ran along her long legs, exposing the milky skin in spots. Her flawless cheeks rose into a smile, exposing her pearl white teeth, for the boy to see, and he sure missed her.

He couldn’t help but smile back at the girl, hers being contagious and all, and he took one large step forward, and engulfed her into a hug, pushing her smaller frame into his slightly broader one.

“I’m glad you’re back” the man mumbled into her exposed neck, platonically, merely as best friends whom had been separated for far too long.

“I’m glad to be back. I missed you guys, Yoongs” She couldn’t help but keep the smile plastered on her face, tears of joy, relief, and most importantly, love leaked out of her eyes. Yoongi couldn’t help but squeeze her tighter, hoping it wasn’t a dream that he finally got to see his best friend again. They may not be in a romantic relationship, but they sure did rely on each other for comfort and advice, and the separation affected them both more than they’d like to admit.

“As much as I’d love to stay here and hug for eternity, you have a special someone waiting for you back at the studio. Plus, I don’t feel like eating a cold pizza so let’s get going” Yoongi merely spoke the truth, the pair pulling apart only to head towards the car, to surprise all the boys. Climbing into the already running car in order to keep the pizza warm from the slightly chilly spring wind, she plugged her phone into the aux to keep the car jammin and to catch up with some missed out bonding time with her Min Yoongi.

At the studio, things merely went downhill from when Yoongi left to fetch the girl. The team decided to take a break, music softly coming through the speakers. The boys merely having a conversations to break up the time ‘til the food would be there.

“What do you think Yoongi’s picking up”

“I hope it’s Panda Express”

“I’m in the mood for some pizza, don’t ya think”

All the boys except one, of course, whom sat on a loveseat, looking off into the distance, thinking of just one thing, or perhaps, person. Not like he thought about anything else these days anyway. All he wanted was for her to be by his side, and he would get it sooner than he thought. Jin walked over and sat next to the taller, his hand draping across his back and onto his opposite shoulder, thumb rubbing circles in an effort to comfort the man. Yoongi was the only one who knew about her coming home early, so even Namjoon, with an IQ of 148, didn’t have any suspicion in the boy. Just worry. Worry for the love of his life whom hadn’t responded to his calls the night before. Worry for himself, that he’s letting himself go too much. Worry, and regret for his fans, who’ve noticed something was off slightly about him, he didn’t deserve them, is what he thought occasionally, as all they have ever done is support and encourage him, even when he clearly doesn’t deserve it; in his eyes, at least.

Then there were her eyes. Where all she saw when she looked at him was this perfect man, with the perfect doe eyes, the perfect loving, motivated personality, and of course, the perfect man, with the perfect love for all those close, and those far, in his life. In her eyes, he was just right. And whenever, on any occasion, he doubted that, she would play that song, over, and over again, until he really believed her. He didn’t hate the song, but he definitely didn’t love it, with how many times she forced him to listen to it. This brought his mind to her many favorite songs, in which he had caught her, numerous times, dancing, singing, and even rapping to while cooking or cleaning. He found it adorable, while she just playfully slapped his arm, or even dragged him over to dance with her. These were the fun, slower songs that she truly enjoyed. The songs that she could use that hidden, angelic voice of hers to shine. Songs like Tropical Night, songs like Flower Cafe, and songs like Spread my Wings all by various artists, all of which she loved equally. Not as much as she loved him, however. Nothing could top that. He would never hesitate to softly put his hands on her hips as she danced, or pepper kisses on her neck as she sang. He loved to feel the vibrations through her body, as her chest and neck created the gorgeous sound he called home, and he would never get tired of it. They would at times, spend hours at night, at home, just slowly dancing, holding each other, to songs on a specific iTunes shuffle that she had on her phone, specifically for nights like those. Nights that they were both free, and could just enjoy each other’s presence. He missed those nights, and the moment she gets home, he promised himself that he wouldn’t leave her side, being the clingy man baby that he is.

The next song on shuffle surprised him, however, and not in the way he wanted to be surprised. It was one of her favorite songs, and he hated it. Not the song, no, he loved the song, but it reminded him so much of her, he wanted to cry, right on the spot. So, that’s what he opted to do. He couldn’t hold it in anymore, the suppressed feelings he’d held in for so long, just came bursting out and he just couldn’t handle it. The movement of him burying his face in his large hands came first, which caught Jin’s attention, but it was the soft, but noticeable shaking of his shoulders that Jin really started to take notice of Namjoon’s true mental state. Here he was, holding up whom he thought, and still considers to be the strongest man he knows. Namjoon had survived 6 months without his other half, his partner, without shedding a tear, to Jin’s knowledge, and he finally broke. And Jin understood, for the song that played, reminded all the boys of her. It was a song, that when she was around, they always played and danced to, they always joked around to when she was around, it was their go-to song, and it affected them all, not nearly as much as Namjoon, but it was pretty damn close.

Jin attempted to get Namjoon to sit up, but it was near impossible, as the man was taller, and more muscular than the other. He did, however, get Joon to lay his head on his shoulder, which eventually made its way to the crook of Jin’s neck, but he still didn’t mind. He could feel his shirt being pulled into clenched fists, emotions getting the better of the younger, and Jin certainly couldn’t blame him. Jin looked up and saw the rest of the boys, holding back tears, trying to stay strong for the one who had already lost it. The staff ended up postponing the photoshoot, for obvious reasons. The only one that had made noise was, the first band member who first noticed the extra guest when Yoongi finally came back.

The pair walked in the building, exchanging looks silently, but with smiles gracing their faces. Yoongi walked in first, of course, to avoid suspicion, but what they saw when they walked in, was definitely a surprise. Yoongi had told her on the way over that everyone seemed to be doing okay, but that was the exact opposite of the sight in the building. There the boys were, all backs turned to them except one, whom wasn’t looking over in that direction at the moment. All eyes were focused on a certain silver-haired man whom had his face buried in the oldest’s neck. Once the door slammed shut, however, one single pair of chocolate eyes snapped up the meet hers, and he couldn’t help the grin that etched across his face.

He nudged Namjoon up, whom had stopped his soft sobs, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to finish the shoot with his now makeup smeared face, dried tear streaks making an appearance. Once Jin craned his neck down and whispered something in his ear, however, the man still didn’t look up. It wasn’t until he registered the noise of heeled boots coming in his direction, that he knew for sure none of the boys wore, that curiosity took the best of him, and he was sure glad that he decided to look up. There, in front of him, was the love of his life, who wasn’t supposed to be back until a  month into the future. There, walking towards him, was the woman whom he hadn’t seen for 6 months. There, reaching towards his tear stained face, with soft hands, was the woman whom he was just crying over because he missed her dearly.

Once her hand made contact with his right cheek, he knew it wasn’t another one of those hallucinations. It wasn’t one of those dreams, she was real. She was standing in front of him, and he wasn’t doing anything about it. That’s where he shot out of Jin’s loose embrace, and wrapped his strong arms around her seemingly frail waist. That’s where he buried his face into the crook of her neck and deeply inhaled, taking in her natural scent, along with her lavender body wash. She was here, in his arms, giggling because of his seemingly strange actions, although the tears gathering in her eyes said different. He deeply sighed, releasing her just enough to take a miniature step back, to look her in the eyes, and smile a genuine smile, for the first time in what seemed like, forever.

He brought both of his unsteady, shaky hands up to her cheeks, and through his eyes, expressed his happiness, love, and longing, to hold her in his arms again. He tilted his head to the right slightly, and she did the same, knowing what was about to occur. The other boys, long gone, to give the pair some privacy, had no need or want to watch the scene occur. She watched him lean in, until the very last second, when she felt his plump lips brush against her soft ones, where her eyes fluttered shut. His lips pressed gently, and lovingly to hers, the butterflies in both their stomachs creating such a commotion, not unlike the very first kiss they shared. Both pairs of lips, moving in sync, as one, molded together, creating the perfect feeling of ecstasy. Her arms, as if having a mind of their own, slid up and around his broad shoulders, interlocking and playing with the baby hairs on his neck. His hands, still firmly around her waist, squeezed it, showing his affection, and truly how much he missed this. How much he missed her.

Much to both their dismays, air is a crucial element to life, so they pulled away, but he wasn’t ready to let go yet. He lay his forehead on hers, leaning down slightly, so their eyes could meet, and he merely smiled, dimples and all, causing her to giggle and shut her eyes, enjoying being back in the arms of her love.

Hearing the door come crashing open, she turned around to see all 6 other boys come barreling in, include Yoongi, all grinning and pushing each other about, in a competition to see who could reach the girl first. Jungkook reached her first, hugging her around her middle, just above where Namjoon’s hands lay on her waist and pulling her into a strong hug. The rest of the boys not far behind, fighting over who gets to be closest to the girl. All along the way, smiling, laughing, and pushing like idiots.

[djdsagalagweg123123123]

This is my Overwatch self-insert/oc, zhen!

Full name: Nian-Zhen Qin (秦念真, Qín Niàn Zhèn)

→ her first name means ‘a belief in truthfulness’ and her last name is the same last name as the emperor who ordered the great wall of china to be built. it’s meant to be kinda ironic and foreshadow her future

Nicknames: Zhen, Jen/Zen (English name)

Codename: Milkman (in her own organization), Zhen (Overwatch) → ngl she was tempted to change it bc no one took it seriously at first → Zhen is pronounced using the ‘xi’ sound (like in xion)

Age: 32 (biologically a year younger than genji and a year older than mei)

Zodiac sign: Aries

Gender: Female

Sexual orientation: Pansexual

Ethnicity: Chinese

Languages: several, most notably English and Mandarin Chinese

Species: Human

Place of birth: Beijing, China

●Physical●

Body type: fucking buff. kinda short? ~163cm

Birthmarks/freckles/moles/scars: Freckles along the bridge of her nose from sun exposure. No notable scars.

Tattoos/piercings: She gets her first tattoo in honor of the passing of a friend, the coordinates of their place of death which also eventually becomes the location of a safehouse that contains a Doomsday plan of sorts.

Voice: She has a non-distinct voice with no accent that conveys her emotions rather well. I think I would want Trina Nishimura to voice her, who also does the voices for Kyoka (Boku No Hero) and Mikasa (Attack on Titan).

●Abilities●

Milk: Zhen always has a few bottles of ‘milk.’ While not actually milk, this healing formula is often referred to as such due to its milky white color. It’s a healing potion filled with nutrients and vitamins. Effects vary with potency. Comes in several different flavors: original, almond, soy, strawberry, banana, and chocolate. Contains no lactose.

110% - a condensed formula that is more potent than the original. can heal large amounts, fortify health, and replace normal rations. caffeinated and addictive. reserved for emergencies or extremely long missions. to avoid side effect like mood swings, irritability, anxiety, restlessness, drink at most one pint in a day with water.

100% - the original formula. contains all the nutrients needed for a full day of activity. meant to replace soldier rations. can heal large amounts, promote strength building. usually contains caffeine.

75% - give as rations to rebels and civilians immediately post-disaster. diluted to prevent side-effects in case of overdose. can replace meals completely up to a week or supplement meals for a month. non-addictive.

25% - given to children and immunocompromised. fortified with extra vitamins, antibiotics and minerals. can strengthen immune system. meant to replace mother’s milk for infants, any age can drink. non-addictive.

Milkshake and Malt: When heading into enemy territory, whether it’s rescuing civilians or teammates trapped behind lines, Zhen always goes in equipped with a blaster and a collapsible shield she nicknamed Milkshake and Malt, respectively. She tries to avoid using these. → Yes, everything she does has some weird dairy-related element. No, she doesn’t like milk that much. She will only drink milk with her cereal. She likes ice cream though, but she likes gelato more.

Strength, Speed, and Agility: Zhen is incredibly strong and agile. She’s got super buff arms and legs because she needs to be able to get places fast on foot, while carrying her milk to distribute or others to safety.

First Aid: Zhen is trained in first aid, carries a kit with her, and can patch others up if no field doctor is available. For certain missions, she adjusts her kit based on the mission. On distribution runs, she’ll carry antiseptic ointments and bandages, while on rescue missions into active warzones, she’ll carry a biotic field generator.

Driving: Zhen is a superb driver. She was an official hero, her ult would be running you over with a transportation truck. She skilled in evacuations and figuring out how to squeeze double the people in a normal sized car. (the trick is to get an open air trunk and put someone back there). Zhen can also pilot planes, boats, and semi-trucks.

 ●Bio●

tl;dr ver: Zhen is from a rich family but rebelled and started her own organization. She joins Overwatch in the place of a close friend who passed away before recall. 

Birth and Raising (Birth - 10 years old)

Nian-Zhen Qin was born in Beijing, China as the heiress to QinCorp, the world’s largest shipping and distribution company that also has strongholds in several other industries, like factory production, medicine, and weapons. From a young age, she was groomed to become a powerhouse. She had access to the best education money could provide- private tutors, textbooks, hands-on immersive experiences unavailable to most people. At ten years old, she was considered a genius. But her emotional growth was horribly stunted. Because of this pampering, she was horribly sheltered and superficial.

Zhen travelled the world in style and became a young social media figure, with millions of followers swooning over her lavish life. Movie premiers, fashion shows, award ceremonies - she’s been attending those since she was just a young child. She starred in movies as the precocious child or cute little sister. She had her own children’s fashion line and modeled it when it first came out. All of her baby pictures are online somewhere.

The Shimadas (12-18 years old)

Zhen’s mother asked her to meet her in Hanamura - there was some people she wanted her to meet. Zhen assumed it would be another one of her important business partners. By now, she had met all sorts of important people, so she assumed this would be the same thing. She will shake his hand, act well-spoken, go to dinner, and be on her best behavior. And afterwards, someone will comment on how well-behaved she was. It was the same routine every time. Young Zhen was surprised when she was introduced to Hanzo and Genji Shimada.

This was the first time Zhen spent time with anyone near her own age. Hanzo and Genji were the first true friends she had. Zhen continued to visit Genji and Hanzo, solidifying their relationship.

Meeting Genji and Hanzo was the start of a rebellious portion of her life. She decided to spent the rest of her adolescence living in Japan to spend more time with the two, but was allowed only under the condition that she give up her other creative endeavors and focused on her studies. Zhen disappeared from the public’s eye when she was 13.

Genji, Hanzo, and Zhen had an odd relationship that became strained as they grew up. As Hanzo took on more responsibilities, he spent less time with them. As Zhen’s studies intensified, however, she would always make time for Genji. And Genji the Playboy, busy at clubs and girls, would always make Zhen his number one priority.

Genji and Zhen both ran away at first when the responsibilities that come with their lavish lifestyles appeared on the horizon. Topics like marriage, succession, and training came up. Genji would continue to avoid them, throwing himself in his playboy lifestyle, but Zhen accepted it. She was very well aware that their time together would end soon, since she would eventually begin seriously studying to become the next head of her family business. When Zhen became attending meetings as her mother’s successor to QinCorp, she lost contact with Genji.

Re-meeting Genji (Age 23)

The next few years of her life were fast yet unmemorable. Unable to contact the person who had become her closest friend, Zhen found herself in a sort of depression, unable to find happiness in the things she previously enjoyed. And so she threw herself into her work. Zhen was making business deals, growing company stock, pleasing investors, and all of the sort. She focused on proving herself time and time again that she would be a suitable successor.

All that mattered to her was upkeeping her family legacy. Zhen knew her place in the world, her place in QinCorp. A gala was thrown to celebrate her 23rd birthday and to officially welcome into the company’s board of directors. At the end of the night, she received a message that someone wanted to see her on the balcony - it was urgent.

--> “Seeing that shock of green hair shook her to her core. It was a quiet encounter; their eyes meeting for the first time in five years. Genji looked as youthful as ever. Zhen felt she aged twice as quickly compared to him. Same hair, same mischievous look in his eyes, same goddamn smirk that showed up whenever he picked up that dumb girl at the club. Ugh, what did he see in her? Why does he go after every big set of boobs? And never mine? They spent the rest of the night together. I missed you. I missed you too. I miss being with you. So did I. Such words went unspoken that night. They didn’t need to be said out loud. Genji wanted to spend the morning after with her. Zhen couldn’t - she had meetings all throughout the day. Family responsibility comes first after all. By the time, she returned, he was gone. Zhen would have agreed to spend every morning with him if he just asked. “

Regular correspondence between the two began, but a month later, Genji passed away. Zhen dropped everything to fly out to attend his funeral. Finding out Hanzo was the one who killed him surprised her, to say the least. Hanzo was missing and Zhen, distraught, didn’t bother to seek him out.

Realizing how corrupt the system is and leaving (Age 23-24)

She was angry, she was sad, she didn’t know what to do. She dealt with her feelings the only way she knew how - by ignoring them and going to work.

Zhen entered as the Vice-President of the Board of Directors. She, by choice, remained in the shadow’s of the company, working from behind the scenes and justified it to the directors by saying she had outgrown her love for the camera. It was because she didn’t care for it anymore.

A year into her term, there was a workers’ strike at one of QinCorp’s newest factories. Apparently, the factory head couldn’t negotiate terms with the head of the striker and Zhen decided to take action herself. She flew to the factory only to find that the factory head didn’t actually attempt a discussion. They fired the protesting workers and hired a new set from the town over.

This discrepancy wasn’t the only thing that shocked Zhen. One of the reasons the workers were protesting was because of the factory’s effects on the environment. The factory had only been operating for about six months, but the river was completely murky and the sky was hidden in smog.

When Zhen brought these issues to the board, she immediately put forth a new policy that would shut down all their factories and move all funds to research and development of cleaner methods of manufacture until newer technology could be implemented. The board threatened to boot her from the company because of her extreme views.

Word of what Zhen was trying to do spread. Every QinCorp worker went on strike to support her. Before, they were forced to suffer quietly because they needed that job to feed themselves and their families. But, now they knew that someone high up was on their side. It was a worldwide revolution, and Zhen was the symbol.

Everyday, the directors grew more and more anxious. Everyday, more money was lost, more people were joining the revolution, and more pressure was put on them to follow Zhen’s command. Every day the factories are shut down, the stock markets takes a blow and several countries fall into recession. Markets and governments were being destabilized. International trade was halted.

Blackwatch was called in to remove the de facto icon, and Genji was sent to eliminate her.

But he couldn’t bring himself do it. He infiltrated her home and warned of the plot against her. He told her he agreed with what she was doing to protect the people and that he would help her escape if she swore to never return to her home or to her company. Zhen agreed. She knew her disappearance from the world would not be the end of the revolution she had ignited. She asked who he was and if they would ever meet again. Genji told her that who he was was unimportant, and that they might meet again when the time is right.

So with nothing but the clothes on her back and a handful of bills, she left her father’s house, his company, and his legacy, never to return. The next day’s headlines spoke of a fire in the Qin mansion. Nian-Zhen Qin, former actress, model, and revolutionary company director, passed away that night. A body was never recovered and a funeral was held later that week.

Having left the public eye when she was 14 made it easy for Zhen to blend in. She left Beijing and travelled to Guangzhou where several underground groups against QinCorp were taking hold. Zhen had caught wind of one of QinCorp’s lab entering testphase with a miracle drug and seeked out help to break in and steal the formula. She knew that QinCorp was going to sell the drug to whatever organization or government could pay the most money for it. Rumor has it was that the starting bid was going to be 400 billion Chinese yuan (60 billion USD). Zhen wanted to steal the formula, produce it with her own means, and distribute it for free worldwide.

Building MODhome (26-31)

Zhen spent two years integrating herself into her new community. She went by Zhen Lee to avoid recognition. From the shadows of the underground, she watch news of the riots and strikes disappear from international news, but knew that in reality, they were still very much alive. Normally, Overwatch would step it to mediate such discussion, but with the ratification of the Petras Act, that was no longer possible. Although factories opened up again, dialogue on how to increase workers’ rights and protections began. At least that was what the QinCorp reported to the public. Zhen knew better than to believe whatever lies that company spewed.

With the miracle finishing testing phase, Zhen and a team consisting of herself, a former Overwatch agent that lent themself to the cause, and a number of rebels, broke in. It was a quiet in and out operation. No alarms were set off, no evidence of their activity was left behind.

Within the year, they secured a production and distribution operation that sent bottles upon bottles of a modified version of the stole drug to rebel forces all over the world. The drug had several names that varied with region - Renegade’s water, Rebel’s Calpico, Yakult but not really...some were catchier than others. Zhen referred to it as Milk.

Over the next five years, Zhen expanded their activities by providing support to not only rebels against QinCorp, but also to areas affected by war, natural disaster, and climate change. It was during this time in her life when she gained most of her current practical skill set: driving, self-defense, and first aid. It was also a period of exponential personal growth. She has formed real connections with people and felt like what she was doing was important. She enjoyed going on field missions, making personal deliveries and find meaning in the connections she made.

This organization was eventually named MODop, short for mitigation of disaster operations. Many refer to it as simply MOD.

Recall (31)

Zhen became extremely close to the group of people that helped her steal the formula - particularly the former Overwatch agent - and would frequently go on missions together. One day, the pair was sent on a rescue mission. The objective was to lead a group of agents to retrieve citizens from a small town’s bomb shelter. It was supposed to take place during a four hour window that was predicted to have no bomb activity - no planes were supposed to fly in, nothing was planted on the ground, it would ideally take less time than the window allowed.

Her ally was outside when the bombs that weren’t supposed to be dropped were dropped. Zhen was in the shelter, organizing people to get them in transportation trucks when she saw a bright flash and felt the earth shaking. She knew immediately what had happened and realized that they couldn’t be more vulnerable. The planes aimed for the trucks of civilians outside. She did her best to hurriedly usher everyone not on a truck back inside, but she couldn’t do anything to help her partner and the rest of her team.

The mission failed. Zhen was the only agent that survived. The organization mourned the loss of civilian lives, several agents, and a founding member. She mourned the loss of her team and her closest friend and ally. She’s failed missions before, but there was always a bright side and something to learn. But what could she learn from this failure? What could have she done differently to prevent the death of her friend? She took a temporary leave from missions.

Zhen inherited her fallen comrades’ items. She still wonders why it was her name in the will and not anyone else’s, Why her and not family or older friends? It wasn’t much, just a box of their old clothes, some books, and a communicator from their Overwatch days. She kept them in a corner of her room, refusing to go through them and accept her partner’s death.

When word of the Recall reached via her fallen comrade’s communicator, she decided she would seek out and join Overwatch in their place. It was the least she could do after all they did for her.

●Notable Relationships●

Genji: Childhood friend, past lover

Hanzo: Childhood friend, but drifted apart

Mercy: Met in a refugee camp, worked together to transport victims of war. Close friends and allies

Unnamed former overwatch agent: Ally, co-founded MOD

Mei: Zhen met Mei when she was lecturing at a university Zhen was visiting. It was girl crush at first sight for Zhen. Mei at the time was seven years older than her, so Zhen didn’t do much to pursue it. They talked a lot about papers, science, and tv shows! They were good friends despite the age gap! The last time Zhen saw Mei was at the airport, saying goodbye to Mei as she left for Watchpoint: Antarctica. 

●Notes●

Pokemon AU: Miltank, Bisharp, Chansey

Myth AU: Witch/Seelie

Zhen’s father was a scientist who married Zhen’s mother because he actually loved her. He emphasized how important a good education is Zhen during the years of her life when he was present. He divorced Zhen’s mother when Zhen was 8 and didn’t try to get custody of Zhen because he knew she would be happier with her mother who could reliably provide.

Zhen has two bachelors degrees (environmental science, business).