#what happens when they come to the same realization that the other islanders have

[phatcatphergus]

Pac and Fit watching and tubbo becomes more and more emotionally dependent upon them and Sunny as the days progress and how he sends himself into a panic if he loses sight of her or them for more then a minute to the point that they once left to grab something from the factory while he was distracted with working on the hole and when they came back he was in hysterics thinking that they finally left him

[inseobts]

Unintentional couple behaviour

you two acts like a loving couple all the time, so what happens when someone points it out?

gn!reader

characters: zoro, sanji, law, ace and sabo

(luffy, kidd, katakuri, shanks and mihawk)

words count: around 0.8k - 1.3k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Roronoa Zoro:

You do a lot of things for Zoro without thinking.

You wake him up when it’s time to eat. You stop him from training too much. You make sure he doesn’t get lost whenever the crew visits a new island.

It’s normal for you. Someone has to do it.

But one day, the others start teasing you about it.

It happens at lunch. You are eating with the crew when Usopp laughs and nudges your arm.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna get your boyfriend?”

You blink. “What?”

Sanji, cleaning his hands with a towel, nods toward the deck “That moss-brained idiot. You always bring him to meals. It’s like a little routine between you two now. Like a couple…”

“We’re not—” You nearly choke on your drink “We’re not a couple!”

Usopp grins “Then why do you always take so much care of him?”

“Because he’s stupid and forgets to eat!” you say, standing up “I’ll go get him, but not because of whatever weird ideas you guys have.”

You walk away while they laugh behind you.

You find Zoro exactly where you expect, napping against the ship’s railing, his swords next to him.

You roll your eyes and shake his shoulder “Oi, wake up. Lunch is ready.”

Nothing.

You shake him harder “Zoro. If you don’t get up, I’ll eat your food.”

He grumbles and waves his hand, like he’s trying to swat away a fly.

Sighing, you do what you always do. You grab his wrist and pull him up with both hands. He lets you. He always does, like it’s natural.

Zoro blinks at you, still half-asleep “Huh. You again.”

“Yeah, me again,” you say “Come eat before Sanji ‘forgets’ to save you anything.”

You’re still holding his wrist, making sure he doesn’t fall back asleep. That’s when you notice Nami and Robin watching from across the deck, smiling.

“What?” you ask, feeling awkward.

Nami smirks “You two are cute.”

Your face heats up “We’re not—he’s not—we’re not together!”

Robin chuckles “You do take care of him a lot.”

Zoro frowns, confused “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” you mutterl “Come eat.”

You let go of his wrist too fast and walk away, ignoring the warm feeling in your chest.

You think it’s over, but now you notice things.

Zoro always sits next to you at meals, even when there are other seats. You always save food for him without realizing. And during fights, he always protects you first, like it’s a habit.

And, worst of all, people keep pointing it out.

“y/n,” Chopper asks one day, tilting his head “Are you and Zoro dating?”

You almost trip “What?! No!”

“Oh...” He looks confused “But you act like it”

You groan “Not you too”

After that, you can’t stop thinking about it.

The next time you wake Zoro up, your fingers stay on his wrist a second too long. The next time he pulls you behind him in a fight, your heart beats faster.

And then one evening, when you catch him watching you with a thoughtful look, you realize you might be in trouble.

That night, Zoro speaks first.

“Oi”

You look up from your seat on the deck “What?”

He leans against the railing, arms crossed “Does it bother you?”

You frown “Does what bother me?”

“What people are saying” His eyes stay on you “About us.”

You swallow “Why? Does it bother you?”

He doesn’t answer right away “No” his voice is quieter than usual.

Your stomach flips and you look at the ocean “I mean… it’s just dumb teasing, right?”

Zoro doesn’t reply. Instead, he watches you for a long time. Then, finally, he smirks.

“Doesn’t really matter what they say” he says, voice calm but sure “I’d still stick with you either way.”

Your breath catches and suddenly, your heart won’t let you ignore this anymore.

For the next days you try to brush off what the crew said.

You really do, but it’s impossible to ignore when Zoro keeps acting the same way.

Like when you’re on lookout duty together, and he hands you his jacket without a word.

Or when you spar with him, and he pulls his hits just enough so you don’t get hurt.

Or when you fall asleep on the Sunny’s deck, and you wake up covered with a blanket, one you know you didn’t grab.

And every time it happens, you catch the crew watching. Smirking.

It’s driving you insane.

One afternoon, you finally decide to do something about it.

You find Zoro by the training room, lifting weights. His shirt is half undone, sweat glistening on his skin, but you shove that thought aside.

You cross your arms “Hey, Zoro.”

He grunts in acknowledgment, not stopping his reps.

You hesitate “…Why do you treat me differently?”

He finally sets the weight down, wiping his face with a towel “What?”

“You heard me...” You shift uncomfortably “You do things for me that you don’t do for anyone else.”

Zoro leans back against the wall, looking at you like you just asked a stupid question “So?”

“So?” You huff “That means something, doesn’t it?”

He shrugs “I guess.”

You blink “That’s it? You guess?”

Zoro sighs, scratching his head “Look, I don’t really think about it. I just—” He pauses, then shrugs again “I want to.”

Your heart skips a beat “…What?”

“I want to do those things for you,” he says simply “it’s not a big deal”

You stare at him “Not a... Zoro, are you serious?”

He frowns “What, you don’t like it?”

“That’s not the point!” Your face feels hot “You don’t do this for Nami or Robin or anyone else!”

Zoro looks at you, unimpressed “Yeah. Because it’s you.”

You freeze.

The way he says it, so blunt, so obvious, it makes your stomach flip.

He isn’t flustered. He isn’t overthinking it. He’s just stating a fact.

“…Oh.”

Zoro crosses his arms, watching you carefully “Is that a problem?”

You swallow “No. It’s just…”

It’s everything. It’s him always being there, always looking out for you, always treating you like someone important.

It’s a realization you should have had ages ago.

You let out a breathless laugh “I’m an idiot.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow “Well, yeah.”

You smack his arm. He smirks.

But when your hand lingers just a little too long, he doesn’t pull away.

And suddenly, you both understand... this isn’t just a habit.

It never was.

Ever since that conversation in the training room, things between you and Zoro have… shifted, but not in a bad way.

He still trains for hours. Still naps in random spots. Still bickers with Sanji.

But now, when you sit beside him, his arm naturally rests along the back of your chair.

Now, when you fight, he doesn’t just watch your back, he makes sure you’re never out of reach.

Now, when you look at him for a second too long, he looks right back.

Like he’s waiting.

Like he’s giving you the choice.

One evening, you find him on the Sunny’s deck, looking out at the ocean.

“…Can’t sleep?” he asks.

You shake your head, stepping closer “Thinking too much.”

Zoro smirks “Dangerous habit...”

You huff a laugh but don’t argue.

Instead, you stand beside him, silent for a moment before you finally ask...

“Do you regret telling me?”

Zoro frowns “Telling you what?”

“That you… actually treat me differently. That you want to.”

His jaw tightens slightly “No.”

Your heart does something strange “Good.”

You don’t give yourself time to hesitate.

Before doubt can creep in, you grab him and pull him down.

Zoro freezes.

For half a second, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even breathe.

Then a quiet growl rumbles from his chest, and his hand cups the back of your neck as he kisses you back.

It’s firm. Solid. Like he’s been holding back for too long and refuses to anymore.

When you finally break apart, Zoro leans his forehead against yours, exhaling through his nose.

“…Finally” he mutters.

You grin “You were waiting for me?”

“Wasn’t gonna rush you” His fingers brush your jaw “You get there when you get there.”

You hum, leaning into him “And now?”

Zoro smirks “Now, you’re stuck with me.”

You kiss him again, just to make sure he knows you wouldn’t want it any other way.

── .✦ Vinsmoke Sanji:

Sanji has always been a flirt. That’s just how he is.

He calls Nami and Robin “my love” and “my dear”. He spins around the kitchen whenever they compliment him. He offers to carry their bags when the crew goes shopping.

But when it comes to you, it’s different.

It starts when the crew is eating dinner together.

“Sanji, can you pass the salt?” you ask.

Instead of handing you the salt shaker, Sanji grabs it, twists off the lid, and sprinkles just the right amount onto your plate.

You blink “Uh. Thanks?”

“Of course, my dear” he says smoothly. Then, as if nothing happened, he turns back to his own plate.

You think nothing of it... until you notice the way the others are watching.

Usopp raises an eyebrow “Did he just season your food for you?”

“Yeah?” You shrug “What's new about it? He's a chef and he’s just being nice.”

Luffy grins “He doesn’t do that for anyone else.”

“That’s not true,” you argue “Sanji treats everyone like this.”

Nami hums “Not exactly like this. If we wanted more salt he would start a lecture about how it would ruin his masterpiece.”

Before you can ask what she means, Sanji stands up to grab dessert. He places a plate in front of you first. It’s your favorite.

The crew stares.

You stare too “Sanji…”

He smiles “What? I made extra for you.”

Usopp coughs “Yeah. Okay. Totally normal.”

Robin chuckles behind her hand.

You shake your head and go back to eating. It’s nothing. Sanji is just being Sanji.

…Right?

But then, you start noticing other things.

When you’re cold, Sanji drapes his jacket over your shoulders without you asking.

When you need something from a high shelf, Sanji wordlessly reaches up and hands it to you.

When you’re about to trip, his hand is always there to steady you.

And every time, every single time, he does it so naturally that you don’t even think about it.

Until one day, Franky whistles and says, “You two sure act like a couple.”

You nearly drop the drink in your hands “What?!”

Sanji, who was stirring a pot at the stove, pauses.

Franky leans against the counter, grinning “You two do all that coupley stuff. He gives you the best food, takes care of you, treats you differently from everyone else—”

“That’s not true,” you say quickly “Sanji’s like this with everyone.”

Franky snorts “Nah. He does flirt with everyone. But this?” He gestures between you and Sanji “This is different.”

You glance at Sanji. He’s staring into the pot, silent.

Your face feels hot now “You guys are reading too much into things.”

“Sure we are...” Franky says, smirking. Then he leaves.

The kitchen is quiet now. You swallow and turn to Sanji.

“…Is it true?”

He looks at you. His usual confident smile is gone. Instead, there’s something softer in his eyes.

“I don’t know” he says “is it?”

Your heartbeat quickens.

Suddenly, every touch, every sweet gesture, it all feels different.

Maybe it wasn’t just a habit.

Maybe it was something else all along.

After all this the teasing has only gotten worse.

Ever since Nami and Usopp pointed out how Sanji treats you, they will not let it go.

“Here comes Sanji’s beloveeeed~” Usopp sings when you walk into the kitchen.

“I should start charging you for all the extra food Sanji makes only for you” Nami smirks.

Even Luffy, who usually doesn’t care about these things, grins at Sanji one afternoon and says “Oi, cook, when are you gonna marry y/n?”

Sanji chokes on his cigarette so hard he has to brace himself on the counter.

You groan and drag a hand down your face.

But what really drives you insane?

Sanji never denies it.

He stutters, blushes, waves his hands, but he never says “That’s not true.”

Because it is true.

And it’s starting to drive you crazy.

You try to ignore it. But then you start noticing things, even the smallest ones.

Sanji never lets you carry anything heavy.

He always pours you tea first, even before Nami and Robin.

He adjusts your chair at dinner like it’s second nature.

And the worst part? He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

But you do.

And now, every time he gives you that look—the one that’s soft, full of admiration, like you hung the damn sun in the sky—your heart stumbles over itself.

This has to stop.

Or something has to change.

It happens one evening after dinner.

You’re in the kitchen, helping Sanji clean up. He hums as he washes the dishes, sleeves rolled up, golden hair falling over his forehead.

You watch him for a second, then take a deep breath.

“Sanji.”

He glances at you, smiling “Yes, my love?”

You grip the counter “Why do you act like we’re together?”

Sanji freezes.

The faucet keeps running. The kitchen is warm with the smell of spices. But Sanji is frozen.

Slowly, he turns his head toward you “…P-Pardon?”

You cross your arms “You treat me differently. Even the crew notices. You never do this stuff for anyone else.”

Sanji swallows hard “I—”

“You never deny it,” you press “and honestly? I’m tired of waiting for you to finally say something.”

Sanji stares at you like you’ve just flipped his entire world upside down.

His hands shake. His lips part like he wants to speak, but nothing comes out.

“…Sanji.” Your voice softens “Do you want this to be real?”

A shuddering breath leaves him. He looks at you, eyes wide, vulnerable.

“More than anything...” he whispers.

Your heartbeat stutters.

That’s it. That’s all you need to hear.

You step forward, grab the front of his shirt, and kiss him.

Sanji malfunctions.

His entire body locks up, like his brain has completely short-circuited.

For a solid two seconds, he does not move.

Then a noise escapes him, something between a whimper and a desperate sigh, and his hands come up to cup your face, pulling you closer.

The kiss is warm, overwhelming, but soft, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he holds on too tight.

When you finally pull away, he’s redder than his own suit.

“…M-Mon amour,” he breathes, voice shaking “You...you actually...”

You smirk “Took us long enough, cook.”

Sanji makes a strangled sound and immediately buries his face in your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you.

Outside, the crew is losing their minds.

“TOLD YOU!” Usopp shouts.

“I WON THE BET!” Nami cheers.

“Oi, Sanji, you alive in there?” Zoro snickers.

Sanji doesn’t answer. He’s too busy melting against you, whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

And honestly?

You think you’ll let him.

── .✦ Trafalgar D. Law:

Law is not the kind of person who likes physical contact. He doesn’t let most people touch him. He keeps his distance, always standing at the edge of conversations with his arms crossed. If someone bumps into him, they get a glare.

But for some reason, you are different.

It starts when Bepo hands you a coat one evening.

“Here,” he says, tail flicking “you left this in the lounge.”

You blink at it. It’s black, long, and definitely not yours.

“This isn’t mine” you say, confused.

Bepo tilts his head “Oh. But you always wear the captain’s coat, so I thought it was yours now...”

You freeze.

“Wait. What?”

Shachi walks by and hears the conversation. He grins “Yeah, you totally do. Every time you’re cold, you steal his coat.”

Penguin nods “And Law never complains.”

You open your mouth. Close it. Try to remember.

…Okay, maybe you have borrowed Law’s coat a few times. But that’s just because it’s warm! And because it’s there! And because...

Oh no.

Your stomach twists “I... I do not...”

“Sure you don’t...” Shachi teases “What’s next? Calling him ‘dear’?”

You groan and shove the coat at Bepo before walking away.

But now, you can’t stop thinking about it.

After this, you start noticing other things. Like how Law always lets you into his personal space.

How you can tug his hat down over his eyes without him pushing you away.

How he casually rests his hand on your shoulder when he stands next to you.

One day, you trip over a loose crate. Before you even hit the ground, a familiar blue glow surrounds you... Law’s Room.

In an instant, you’re back on your feet, completely unharmed.

The Heart Pirates snicker.

“Captain didn’t even think” Penguin whispers.

“He never uses Room for anyone else’s clumsiness” Shachi adds.

You glare at them “I heard that.”

They just smirk.

Law doesn’t say anything. He just sighs and keeps walking, like saving you without thinking is the most natural thing in the world.

Your heart does something weird. You ignore it.

Later, you sit on a crate, arms crossed. Law stands next to you, reading a medical book.

You glance at him “Your crew keeps calling me ‘Captain’s partner.’”

He doesn’t look up “So?”

“So, why?”

He flips a page “Probably because you act like one.”

Your brain short-circuits.

You stare “Excuse me?”

Law finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow “You’re always in my quarters, you steal my coat, and you act like you belong next to me. They’re not wrong.”

Your face burns “I... You let me do all that!”

He smirks “I know.”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Because suddenly, you realize... he has let you. And he still is.

Ever since Bepo and the others pointed out how Law treats you differently, it’s been impossible to ignore.

The extra care during missions. The way he always stands just a little closer than necessary. The way he lets you touch him, his arm, his shoulder, even his hand, when no one else would dare.

But what really gives him away?

The way his ears burn red every time you get too close.

And yet he never says anything.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was running an experiment to see how long he could keep this up before you lost your mind.

So tonight you’re calling him out.

You find him in his quarters, buried in medical books.

“Hey, Law.” You lean against the desk, arms crossed “Can I ask you something?”

His eyes flick up “What?”

You tilt your head “Do you like me?”

Law chokes.

Not just a little cough... he full-on chokes on air, slamming his book shut as if that’ll somehow save him.

“What—?!” He coughs into his fist “Where the hell did that come from?”

You raise an eyebrow “You tell me.”

Law scowls, shifting uncomfortably “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh? Am I?” You step closer.

He stiffens “What are you...?”

You place your hands on the arms of his chair and lean in, caging him in.

His breath hitches.

Oh. Oh.

He is not prepared for this.

“Law,” you murmur, watching his face closely “you never let anyone touch you, but you let me.”

His jaw clenches “That doesn’t—”

“You always make sure I rest. You check my injuries before anyone else’s.”

“Because you’re reckless—”

“And...” you lean even closer “your ears are red right now.”

Law swallows.

You smirk “So, wanna try again?”

For a long moment, he just stares at you, lips parted, golden eyes darting between yours.

Then, in a last-ditch effort, he growls... “You’re annoying.”

You hum “Maybe.”

And then you kiss him.

Law goes still.

For the first time since you’ve known him, he is completely speechless.

But then a quiet sound escapes him, and his hand suddenly grips your wrist, holding you there.

You almost pull back, unsure, until his other hand slides around the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, and he kisses you back.

It’s hesitant at first, but when you don’t pull away, something shifts.

The kiss deepens, his grip tightens, and the heat radiating off of him is enough to make you dizzy.

When you finally part, Law exhales sharply, pressing his forehead against yours.

“…You’re gonna be a problem” he mutters, voice rough.

You grin “Yeah?”

His fingers tighten in your hair “Yeah.”

And then, despite everything, he kisses you again.

Because for once in his life he’s done running.

── .✦ Portgas D. Ace:

Ace is naturally affectionate.

He throws an arm around people’s shoulders, laughs loudly, and grins like the world is a joke he’s in on. He’s warm but also because he makes people feel welcome.

So it’s not weird that he touches you a lot.

Right?

It starts when Marco sits down next to you, smirking.

“You and Ace finally together, yoi?”

You look at him confused “what do you mean?”

“A couple… are you two a couple?”

You almost drop your drink “What? No!”

Marco raises an eyebrow “You sure? He always saves you a seat at meals. Always gives you his food if you ask. Always keeps an eye on you during fights.”

You roll your eyes “That doesn’t mean anything. He’s just like that.”

“Not with everyone” Marco takes a sip of his drink “Just you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but then you don’t know what to say, because now, you’re thinking about it.

The next time Ace sits beside you at dinner, you notice how he slides his plate a little closer to yours, letting you steal his food.

The next time the crew docks at an island, you notice how he instinctively waits for you before walking off together.

The next time you’re about to trip, you don’t even get the chance to fall, Ace grabs your wrist and steadies you like it’s second nature.

And maybe it is second nature.

“Careful, Ace,” one of the division commanders teases “If you keep acting like that, y/n might actually think you’re in love.”

Ace laughs, scratching the back of his head “Yeah, yeah.”

You laugh too. Because it’s just a joke… Right?

One night, you sit together on the deck, watching the ocean.

You fidget for a second before saying “The crew keeps calling us a couple”

Ace hums “Yeah?”

You glance at him “Why do you think that is?”

He leans back, arms behind his head, and grins “Probably because we act like one.”

You choke on your own breath “Excuse me?!”

Ace tilts his head “I mean, we do everything together. You always take my food, and I always let you. You always pull me out of trouble, and I always let you. Feels natural, doesn’t it?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Because now that you think about it... yeah, it does feel natural.

“…Ace,” you say slowly “Are we...?”

He looks at you, amusement flickering in his eyes “What do you think?”

Your stomach flips.

Because suddenly, you’re not sure where the habit ends and the feelings begin.

After this, Ace keeps flirting with you all the time.

It’s just who he is.

Winks across the deck. Throwing an arm around your shoulders. Calling you hot stuff like it’s your actual name.

You’re used to it.

But after the teasing from Marco and Thatch, after realizing that Ace treats you differently, you start to wonder.

Is he just playing around? Or is there something real underneath?

There’s only one way to find out.

The perfect opportunity comes one afternoon, when Ace flops down next to you on the Moby Dick’s deck, grinning.

“Hey,” he drawls, resting an arm behind his head “Miss me?”

You smirk “I saw you literally two hours ago.”

“That’s two hours too long.” He winks “Bet you were thinking about me the whole time.”

You hum, tilting your head “You really think that, huh?”

Ace chuckles “C’mon, you love me.”

You raise an eyebrow “Prove it.”

He blinks “Huh?”

You shift, leaning closer with a sly smile “You say all this stuff, Ace. You flirt, you tease... but are you actually serious?”

For the first time, he hesitates.

Just for a second, but it’s enough.

“…Of course I am,” he says, but his usual confidence isn’t all there.

You smirk “Then show me.”

Before he can react, you grab his hat, his precious hat, and plop it onto your own head.

Ace short-circuits.

“Oi! That’s...!” He reaches for it instinctively but stops mid-motion, staring at you.

You tilt the brim with a smirk “What? You said you liked me, right?”

Ace swallows “Y-Yeah?”

“Then just take it back.”

You expect him to snatch it back playfully.

What you don’t expect is for Ace to grin, eyes flickering with mischief, and suddenly tackle you onto the deck.

You yelp as he hovers over you, forearms braced on either side of your head.

The crew whoops in the background, but neither of you pay them any attention.

Ace smirks down at you “You think you’re funny, huh?”

You grin “A little.”

Ace shakes his head, chuckling, but then his expression softens.

He reaches up, tilts the hat back just enough to see your face properly.

And then without thinking he leans down and kisses you.

It’s grinning into the kiss kind of playful. It’s warm and teasing but full of something deeper.

And when he pulls back, face way too close, he murmurs “Now you gotta prove it.”

Your heart races.

You don’t back down. Instead, you tug him down by his necklace and kiss him again.

This time, Ace melts.

When you finally break apart, Ace huffs out a breathless laugh.

“Well,” he grins “Guess you do love me.”

You roll your eyes “Shut up.”

But you don’t stop him when he kisses you one more time.

Because, honestly?

He’s right.

── .✦ Sabo:

Sabo is easy to be around.

He’s kind, smart, and always ready to listen. He laughs at your jokes, never forgets your favorite things, and somehow always knows when you need him.

So it’s no surprise that you spend a lot of time together.

But apparently, the way you act around him is a little… suspicious.

It starts when you’re walking through the Revolutionary Army base with Koala.

“So,” she says casually “when are you and Sabo going to make it official?”

You nearly trip over your own feet “What?!”

Koala grins “Come on, don’t play dumb. You two already act like a couple.”

You scoff “No, we don’t.”

She raises an eyebrow “Oh really? Who’s the first person Sabo looks for when he gets back from a mission?”

“…Me.”

“Who’s the only person he lets borrow his gloves?”

“…Me.”

“And who’s the only one he lets fall asleep on his shoulder without complaining?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Because—oh.

Oh.

Koala smirks “See what I mean?”

You shake your head “That doesn’t mean anything. We’re just close.”

She shrugs “If you say so.”

But now, you can’t stop thinking about it. You start noticing things, like how Sabo always finds a reason to sit next to you during meals, or how he reaches out to fix your collar or tuck your hair behind your ear like it’s normal, or how he always makes sure you have a blanket when you fall asleep at your desk, even though no one else gets that treatment.

And the worst part?

Now that you’re paying attention, everyone else is too.

“I swear, it’s like they’re married” one soldier mutters.

“They finish each other’s sentences” another whispers.

“Bet they don’t even realize” someone else chuckles.

You groan and drop your head onto the table.

Sabo, sitting beside you, blinks “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing” you mumble.

He frowns, then wordlessly slides his drink toward you.

You stare at it “…Did you just give me your drink?”

He shrugs “You like it more than I do.”

You glance around. Several soldiers are watching now, smirking.

Slowly, you push the drink back to him.

Sabo looks confused “You don’t want it?”

Your face burns “Nope. I’m fine.”

He tilts his head, then shrugs and takes a sip.

The others snicker.

You sigh.

Later that night, you sit beside him on the rooftop, watching the stars.

“Sabo,” you say carefully “do we… act like a couple?”

He hums “Why?”

“People keep saying we do.”

Sabo leans back on his hands, thinking. Then he smiles “I guess I can see why.”

Your heart skips a beat “You can?”

“Well, we’re always together,” he says easily “I trust you more than anyone. You take care of me, I take care of you. Feels normal.”

You stare at him “That’s… kind of a couple thing, don’t you think?”

Sabo looks at you for a long moment. Then he smirks.

“Well,” he says, voice teasing but gentle “do you want it to be?”

Your breath catches.

And suddenly, the answer seems obvious.

Sabo has always been easy to be around.

You never have to force a conversation. Never have to second-guess his presence.

He’s just there, a steady warmth beside you, the hand that always steadies your back when you walk through the Revolutionary camp, the person you find yourself naturally leaning against when you’re tired.

And the thing is?

He never pulls away.

Even now, sitting beside you near the fire after a long day, his arm rests lightly along the back of your seat. Close enough to feel, but not demanding.

It’s natural.

But tonight, something’s different.

There’s a quiet between you, not uncomfortable, but charged with something unsaid.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly your head is resting against his shoulder, and instead of shifting away, Sabo just exhales softly, tilting his head against yours.

You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“…I like this” you murmur, barely thinking.

Sabo hums “Me too” A pause. Then... “I always have.”

Your heart stutters.

Slowly, you lift your head, turning just enough to meet his gaze.

His expression is calm, too calm, like he’s waiting for you to understand something he’s known for a long time.

And you do.

Because of course it was always him.

You don’t say anything. You don’t need to.

Instead, you reach up, gently tracing your fingers along his jaw.

Sabo closes his eyes briefly at the touch before opening them again, watching you with something unreadable, something deep.

Then, without hesitation, he leans in.

The kiss is slow, certain.

It’s not rushed, not desperate because this was never a question.

It was always going to be this.

When you part, Sabo lingers, his forehead resting against yours.

His hand finds yours, fingers lacing together easily.

“…Feels like we should’ve done that a long time ago” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours.

You smile “Maybe. But I think we got here at the right time.”

Sabo chuckles softly, squeezing your hand “Yeah. I think so too.”

And when he kisses you again, it feels like something that was simply meant to be.

[kaiist]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

“Zephyr, could you pass the salt?” you ask, reaching across the kitchen counter.

“What?” Xavier looks up from his phone, brow slightly furrowed. The dim light of the kitchenette creates shadows on his face while he stays close to you at the kitchen island as you cook.

“Xavier,” you repeat, “the salt?”

He nods and slides it over. “Here,” he says simply before returning to the counter without another word. You continue preparing dinner together in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the soft hiss of vegetables sizzling in the pan as Xavier slowly lulls to sleep.

After eating, you’re both relaxing on the couch when you murmur, “Zephyr, can you grab that blanket?” Your eyes remain fixed on the phone in your hands.

“Who?” Xavier turns to you, his expression shifting slightly as the corners of his mouth turn downward.

“I said—”

“That’s not my name,” he says quietly. “Who is Zephyr?” Though his voice remains calm, there’s an unusual intensity to his gaze now, a subtle tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there moments before.

You struggle to keep a straight face as you respond, “What? I said Xavier.”

“No,” he says quietly, a hint of a pout forming on his lips. “You called me... Zephyr.”

You burst into laughter, unable to maintain the charade any longer. “I’m just messing with you! You should see your face right now.”

Xavier studies you for a long moment, his lower lip still protruding slightly. Without another word, he shifts position and lays his head on your lap, then gradually slides his arms around your waist until he’s essentially draped across you like a human blanket.

“Xavier?” you question, surprised by the sudden weight.

“Mine,” he mumbles into your shirt, his embrace tightening slightly as he closes his eyes, still wearing that subtle pout. “I’ll make sure you remember. Just wait.”

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

“Here you go, Zayden,” you say, setting a mug of coffee down in front of him. 

“Thank you,” Zayne accepts the cup with a nod, taking a sip before continuing his reading. His pen moves efficiently across the paper as he makes notes.

Throughout breakfast, you don’t notice anything amiss, though you catch him glancing at you occasionally with an unreadable expression, his dark eyes thoughtful beneath furrowed brows.

Hours later, as evening settles over the city, you return home from your mission. Zayne has arrived home before you, having completed his hospital rounds early for once. The transition from Dr. Zayne to simply Zayne happens as soon as you walk in—his tie is loosened, sleeves rolled up, the rigid posture softening just slightly. You’ve picked up takeout from his favorite restaurant, grateful for the rare evening when you can actually spend time together.

“Zayden, dinner’s ready!” you call out, arranging the food on plates in the kitchen.

“That’s not my name,” his voice comes from directly behind you, making you jump slightly. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

“I—what?”

“Twice, you called me Zayden,” he says. “You did the same thing this morning at breakfast. I assumed you were still half-asleep then. Now I’m curious who’s occupying your thoughts.”

“Oh! I didn’t even realize—” When you explain it was just a mistake—perhaps a character from a show you’ve been watching, or a colleague’s name that stuck in your subconscious—Zayne’s expression softens.

He hums, stepping closer to you. He places one hand on your waist and the other under your chin, tilting your face up to his. “I’d prefer you keep your focus on the present, specifically on your actual boyfriend, Zayne.” He presses a brief, firm kiss to your lips before pulling back, the matter apparently settled for now.

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

The afternoon sun streams through Rafayel’s studio windows as he works on a new painting.

“Gabriel, this came for you,” you say deliberately, holding out a package that arrived earlier.

No response. Rafayel continues painting as if he hadn’t heard you. Instead of returning to his canvas, he turns to his fish bowl where Reddie swims in lazy circles.

“Reddie, did you hear something?” he asks the fish, leaning toward the bowl. “Strange, I thought I heard someone addressing a stranger in our home.” He tilts his head, listening dramatically. “Maybe someone been sneaking some random man around when I’m not looking. That would explain why that someone is using names that aren’t mine.”

“Gabriel?” you try again, louder this time. The continued mispronunciation is clearly not helping your case.

Rafayel ignores you completely, continuing his one-sided conversation with the fish. “What do you think, Reddie? Should we be concerned? There’s clearly someone here speaking to people who don’t exist.” He sighs.

You try again, louder this time, fighting to keep the laughter from your voice.

Rafayel’s back stiffens further, but he doesn’t turn around. Instead, he continues speaking to Reddie as if you’re not even in the room. “You know, Reddie, loyalty is such a rare quality these days. At least you will never forget my name.” He strokes the top of the fish bowl gently with one finger. “Perhaps we should compose a song about abandonment and betrayal. I could return to the opera with a tragic ballad about a forgotten lover...”

You can’t contain your laughter any longer. “Rafayel, it’s me!”

His head snaps up immediately, his face breaking into a bright smile. “Oh! There you are, cutie! I didn’t see you come in. Is that for me?” He jumps up. “You’re just in time, I want to show you something.”

You soon find yourself caught and marked with colorful fingerprints as payback for your prank.

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

The soft lamplight illuminates Sylus’s study as he reclines in his leather armchair, engrossed in a vintage hardbound book. You approach with a cup of tea in hand.

“Silvan, are we still on for tonight?” You approach the table, trailing your fingers along its cool surface.

He continues examining his book, turning a page with deliberate slowness, making no indication he’s heard you. The only sound in the room is the song coming from his vinyl.

You clear your throat and try again. “Silvan? About tonight’s dinner...”

He finally looks up, a barely perceptible smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. His eyes—those unnaturally intense eyes that seem to see through every deception—fix on yours with amused interest. “Are you addressing me, sweetie? I believe you have me confused with someone else.”

The atmosphere in the room shifts subtly. Sylus has never been a man to tolerate carelessness, even from you. Especially from you.

“Sylus,” you correct yourself. “I meant Sylus.”

“Better,” he says, turning back to his book and marking his place with a bookmark. “And yes, I still plan to indulge you with my company tonight. Though I find myself curious about this... Silvan.” The way he lingers on the incorrect name sends a slight chill down your spine despite the warmth in the room.

You internally sigh, messing around with him always goes wrong for some reason.

Hours later, you find yourself at an exclusive restaurant. Sylus swirls the deep red wine in his glass, studying its color before taking a sip. He appears completely at ease. Just as you begin to think the earlier name slip has been forgotten, he casually remarks, “You know, (other name), this restaurant has excellent desserts. You should try the chocolate soufflé.”

Your head snaps up from your plate. “What did you call me?”

“Oh? Now you understand how it feels,” he chuckles, voice pitched for your ears alone. “Though I must say, your jealousy is far more entertaining than mine could ever be.”

His laughter fills the space between you as you struggle not to retort back.

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

Delicious aromas fill your apartment as Caleb moves around the kitchen, preparing what promises to be an impressive dinner. You lean against the counter, watching him taste-test the sauce, admiring the way he looks in casual clothes instead of his uniform.

“Calvin, this smells amazing,” you say, reaching for a piece of chopped vegetable from the cutting board.

The wooden spoon in his hand freezes mid-stir. “Who?” His voice remains light, but you notice the immediate tension in his shoulders, the slight narrowing of his eyes as he turns to face you.

“The food,” you gesture to the simmering pots. “Whatever you’re making, it smells incredible.”

“No,” he says deliberately, each word precise and measured. “What did you just call me?”

“I said Caleb,” you keep up the act.

“Did you?” He sets down the wooden spoon and wipes his hands slowly on a kitchen towel before approaching you. “Because I clearly heard you call me by another name.”

The playful atmosphere from moments ago has evaporated completely. Though he’s not in uniform and you’ve known him for years, you’re suddenly very aware that this is the man who commands an entire fleet with unquestioning authority.

“It was just a slip of the tongue,” you insist, feeling the cool edge of the counter press against your back as he moves closer. “I don’t even know anyone named Calvin.”

“A slip,” he repeats, his voice deceptively soft as he stops directly in front of you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from his body. His eyes search yours with an intensity that makes your heart beat faster.

His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing your lower lip, “I need to be certain my name is the only one on these pretty lips. Now,” he says, stroking your cheek gently, “Let’s try again. Who am I?”

“Caleb,” you breathe, and the smile that spreads across his face shows satisfaction.

“That’s right,” he confirms, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment. “And don’t you forget it. Not ever.”

Based on this request.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Co Parents To Lovers Again (part 2)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: fluff (smut in the next part)

part 1

It's been three days since the unfortunate misunderstanding with Charles and you haven't heard from him at all since.

You were overthinking the whole situation that happened on Sunday and couldn't come to any proper conclusion. At the same time, you were sad because he thought you would bring someone else into your bed, even though it wasn't your shared bed anymore, but you couldn't believe that he thought so little of you after all the years you'd spent together.

And yet on the other hand, you were thinking like any woman, you were glad that he was jealous and that the very thought of someone replacing him bothered him because that only meant he wasn't over you and that he still wanted to make things right between you two. Basically, you were torn between your brain and your heart once again and it was just a matter of what would prevail between the two this time.

Even though deep down you knew you couldn't fight yourself. You broke up over some disagreements that when you look at things more closely weren't worth destroying your relationship and your little family. You were both stubborn, he was a little too possessive, you were lacking in understanding, parenting, you spent most of your time alone with Lou and everything came together and exploded.

Now that you look back on the whole year you spent without him, you know that as hard as it is sometimes to be with him, it's ten times harder to be without him. You realize that you both made a rash decision, but then again maybe it had to happen only to make you realize how much you need each other in every way possible.

It's Wednesday night and while you're preparing tonight's dinner and tomorrow's lunch, Lou is sitting at the dining room table drawing. Soon your cooking is interrupted by the ringing of your phone on the kitchen island. A strange feeling comes over you as you wipe your hands on a dish towel and look at your phone only to see Charles' name on the screen.

You want to answer the phone, but you don't want the conversation to end in an argument so before you pick up the phone, you take a deep breath and try to calm down and strengthen your voice so it doesn't sound shaky.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me." He says it in a completely normal, calm tone and you're grateful for that.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Umm, I'm leaving tomorrow for the race so I was wondering if you could put Lou on the facetime so I can see her since I won't be able to have her for the weekend?" He asks.

"Sure, just let me switch to facetime."

Once you did, Charles face appeared on the screen and he smiled when he saw yours too. You tried to hide the blush on your face and quickly walked over to Lou putting the phone in front of her.

"Baby, daddy wants to talk to you" You said setting the phone in front of her and leaving them alone to talk.

Since the kitchen and dining room were connected, you went back into the kitchen and could hear everything the two of them were saying. You didn't want to eavesdrop, but you kinda did.

"Hey, daddy!" Lou exclaimed excitedly.

"Mon ange, what are you doing?"

"I'm drawing and-and mommy is cooking" She says.

"Yeah? What are you drawing?"

"I'm drawing you in a red car. See" She says putting up the paper in front of the camera for him to see.

"Good job, baby. It looks great!"

"It's for you, I will give it to you when you come get me" She says forgetting that she won't be spending the weekend with him.

"Thank you, baby, but unfortunately we won't be together this weekend because papa has to work, but we'll see each other next week, okay?"

"Oh.." She pouts.

"Don't be sad, we'll see each other very soon, okay? I miss you so much and I'm thinking of you all the time."

Your heart is completely softened by his words and the immeasurable amount of love he has for your daughter.

"I miss you too, daddy"

"Okay, baby. I'll talk to you soon, I love you."

"Bye, I love you too." She says waving her hand as he blows her a kiss.

You watch her from afar and see how her mood immediately changed when she heard that she wouldn't be seeing him. Shaken by emotions, you move closer to her and squat down next to her.

"What's wrong, bug?" You ask her.

She doesn't look at you but frowns looking down at drawing on the paper in front of her.

"I miss papa" She says, hear eyes filled with tears.

"Can I tell you a little secret?" You say and she nods. "I miss papa too." You whisper making her look at you.

"Would you like to watch him race this weekend?"

"You mean on the TV?" She asks.

"No, I mean how about we go and see him?" You suggest and her eyes light up.

"Really?!"

"Would you like that?"

"Yes, yes! And I can give him this!" She says excitedly and you chuckle at how sweet she is.

"Then we have a deal. Now, finish up your drawing and go wash your hands because dinner is almost ready okay?"

"Okay, mommy. Thank you"

Nothing can compare to the happiness you feel when you see your daughter happy. Both you and Charles would do anything for her, and that's why you decided to quickly run upstairs to your bedroom, turn the hoodie right side out.

When a print of an F1 car was visible on the black hoodie, you took a picture of it and sent it to Charles without any additional explanation, because you knew that everything would be clear as a day to him once he saw it.

After just a few minutes, your phone vibrated in your hands.

'Been looking for it for a while now..' Charles' message said.

'I really fucked up this time, didn't I?' He added.

'You kinda did.' You replied.

'I'm so sorry, y/n..'

'You're lucky your daughter adores you so much and you better send a plane for the two of us so we can make it to the race on time.'

part 3

@charlesgirl16 @aleatorio1234 @teamnovalak @watermelonslut @diaryofarandomkid @sunny44 @tempo-rary-fix @ggaslyp1 @janeh22 @seonghwaexile @seasonswinter @itgirlofthecenturysposts @ricciardosredbull @amz824 @sarx164

[rafesangelita]

♡ when a double date with rafe leads to him feeling a sense of familiarity + you may have revealed your biggest secret yet..

warnings: mean!rafe. enemies to ???, suggestive language, lots of cussing lol, slight angst, mild sexting, light degradation (reader and rafe just like being snarky towards each other), sexual tension, flirty banter (?), slight arguing

a/n: this is part two of this fic right here! if you’d like to be added to the taglist just comment on this post or leave me an ask <3 i do plan to write three more parts to this!

links: previous | next | mini series masterlist

wc: 2.9k

[1:19 AM] countryclub: we have the same area code.

you felt cold sheer panic run through your veins at the revelation, your heart beating in your ears as you kept rereading his message. you refused to believe what he said to be true. this couldn’t be happening. sharing the same area code could only mean one thing— both of you resided on the island.

sure, the island was small, but it couldn’t be that small.. right? your mind was reeling, everything that you two had talked about, the pictures that you two shared, over the last few months ran through your mind at lightning speed. tossing your phone to the side, you rested your head in your hands, trying your best to piece something, anything, together. this mystery man didn’t talk like anyone you knew, or so you thought. you chewed on your bottom lip, your chest rising and falling as you realized that you hadn’t even confirmed if you two shared the same area code. for all you know he could just be making up some lame excuse for leaving you high and dry.

yeah, that had to be it.

[1:33 AM] brattydiaries: fuck you. i don’t believe that.

[1:35 AM] brattydiaries: i don’t need you to come up with some elaborate lie in order to spare my feelings. if you weren’t serious about reaching out to me in the first place, then you shouldn’t have asked for my number.

rafe was pacing back and forth in his room, the taste of tequila from his earlier activities still lingering on his tongue. he scoffed once your messages came in, his eyes narrowing at his screen as he scratched the back of his neck. insinuating that he didn’t really want to talk to you was just flat out insane. nowadays, all he could do was imagine the way your voice would sound in his ears while he pounded you in, the thoughts and images of you taking up his headspace.

[1:38 AM] countryclub: are you fucking stupid?? i was very serious about wanting to talk to you, you live in my fucking brain.

[1:39 AM] countryclub: 252. that’s the area code for kildare island.

[1:39 AM] countryclub: and judging by the way you post your nail appointments every two weeks, along with all the sexy lil try-on hauls you did for me, i could confidently say that you’re not a pogue.

your eyes widened in horror. only someone who lived on kildare island would know about the whole ‘kooks vs. pogues’ thing. besides the confirmation with the area code, you knew he wasn’t lying. you stared blankly at the screen, having no idea what to say or even do about this situation. having these kinds of blogs and letting anyone you knew in real life find out about them was social suicide. maybe not so much for rafe, but you? you were a totally different person out here. you had a reputation to uphold, you couldn’t risk the scrutiny you or your parents would face if anyone ever found out.

as mad as you were at the mystery man behind the screen for ghosting you without an explanation, you could understand his sudden disappearance now that you currently felt sick to your stomach at the realization. he was far too close for comfort. based off of his username, you knew you two had to be running in the same social circles, your blood running cold at the thought of this person being someone you might’ve had contact with before. figure eight wasn’t big enough to keep a secret like this, it was only a matter of time before you two would unintentionally reveal yourselves to one another.

[1:50 AM] brattydiaries: this can’t go on any longer. sorry not sorry.

you ignored the small pang of hurt in your chest when you pressed send. apart of you hoped that he wouldn’t let you off so easily. you couldn’t deny the thrilling feeling that sat in your tummy at the prospect of knowing who he is but also being utterly clueless at the same time.

[1:55 AM] countryclub: nah.

[1:55 AM] countryclub: i got you right where i want you now.

there was no way in hell rafe was going to just allow you two to go back to not talking. he did it once, but he wouldn’t be able to do it again. especially now that he knows everything he wants is on his side of the island. just in arm’s reach. obviously, he couldn’t physically stop you from blocking him, but at least he knew that if you responded to him then you two were on the same page.

and sure enough..

[1:59 AM] brattydiaries: whatever.

were you scared shitless? yes. did you believe that this was going to backfire in some way? most definitely; but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want this. whatever little sexting arrangement you two had going on, it was the only relatively exciting thing you had going for yourself and you weren’t necessarily ready to let it go.

[2:03 AM] countryclub: so can i call you or what?

you shook your head even though he couldn’t see you.

[2:05 AM] brattydiaries: fuck no. goodnight.

rafe smiled down at his phone before getting ready for bed, both of you finding it nearly impossible to get any kind of sleep. when you woke up the next morning, you were met with at least a dozen messages from chanel.

[8:10 AM] chanel ♡: topper just dropped me off at home..

[8:12 AM] chanel ♡: crazyyyyy night.. but anyways! me and you are going on a double date tonight. idk who topper is bringing but you don’t get to say no because love me, okay!?

[8:12 AM] chanel ♡: LMAO imagine it’s rafe

[8:18 AM] chanel ♡: omg you srsly need to wake up already and come over so you could help me choose an outfit!!

you continued reading through her texts, already dreading tonight’s plans as you decided to go ahead and get the day started so you could get this whole ‘date night’ thing over with. even though chanel jokingly said topper would bring rafe to be your date, you really hoped that wasn’t the case. the last thing you felt like doing was fighting or bickering with him because of your indifferences. after spending the afternoon rummaging through chanel’s closet, she finally settled on a dress that she hasn’t worn out before. “where are we even going?” you asked.

“topper said it’s a surprise so he’s picking both of us up from here.” she smiled, her words making you roll your eyes. you hated not knowing what you were getting yourself into. yet again, here you were, sexting with a stranger who just might not be a stranger after all. by the time topper texted chanel that he was outside, you two were in full glam, ready for whatever tonight may bring you. topper opened the doors for both of you, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you two. “we weren’t sure how to dress, sooo..” topper nodded, “yeah, i can see that.”

topper had on a casual outfit, a stark difference to the mini dresses and heels you and chanel currently wore. “now is probably a good time to tell us where we’re going.” you quipped from the backseat. at your cattiness, chanel flashed you a glare. “rafe offered up his boat, so i figured we’d just have a couple drinks, have a good time, ‘you know?” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as chanel happily agreed. this was bullshit. not only did you have to spend the next few hours with rafe on his stupid boat, but you were sure this ‘double date’ was going to turn into a third wheeling act real fast.

fifteen minutes later, and rafe was reaching out to help you onto the druthers, an annoyed look written all over his face as you tossed your purse at him first. “what? i don’t want my bag to fall in the water, okay?!” taking hold of your hand, rafe caught a glimpse of your nails, the french tip design looking oddly familar. you squeezed his palm, stepping onto the deck with a sigh. topper and chanel had already made their way inside the cabin area, both of them laughing as they slid the door shut, leaving you and rafe all by yourselves. it was moments like these that made you wish you could be anywhere else.

rafe scanned your outfit, his eyes lingering on your cleavage before you turned around, annoyed. “i guess it’s a good thing topper didn’t mention i’d be spending majority of my night with you. ‘cause i wouldn’t have came.” you snatched your purse back, your heels clicking against the deck as you sat on one of the cushioned chairs near the lounging area. rafe grabbed his cooler, deciding to entertain your antics since all you two had was time. “mmm, i don’t know about that. apart of me thinks you like arguing with me. i know i do.” you scoffed, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips.

“yeah? i bet. female attention seems to be something you lack.” rafe laughed, taking a seat next to you. “oh, i can guarantee you that’s not the case.” he scooted closer, unscrewing the cap from his beer. yeah, right. you knew all about rafe’s inability to hold onto a relationship, rumors of his emotional unavailability spreading around the island like wildfire. “no? i’m sorry, i just assumed since, you know.. you’re a full time asshole.” rafe put his beer down, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed thickly. “only with you, i am.”

you laughed, finally meeting his gaze. he was a lot closer than you thought, his cologne filling your senses as your eyes flickered down to his lips for a second. “so i’m special then?” you had a faux innocent look in your eyes as you blinked up at him, the sight making his jaw clench. “no,” he smiled, leaning in, “but i can be nice. i can be real nice.” the insinuation made your cheeks heat as his face was just mere inches away from your own. tilting your head, you flashed him a sweet smile before shoving him in the chest.

“that’s never going to happen.” rafe acted like you didn’t have any effect on him, but inside? he was fighting every urge to pick you up and take you back to tanneyhill. he couldn’t help but feel like he knew you more than you let on, your demeanor reminding him of a certain someone. “can i ask why?” he watched as you grabbed his beer, your lipgloss smudging around the rim as you took a swig. “why i don’t like you, or why i won’t let you fuck me?” rafe leaned back in his chair, his thighs spreading as he crossed his arms over his chest.

well you definitely had a way with words..

rafe took the time to get a really good look at you. he had a feeling about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, the familiarity driving him crazy. he was determined to figure you out. “both.” he answered, taking his beer back from you. slipping your heels off, you brought your feet up and got comfortable in your spot next to rafe. “well i only realized i didn’t like you when i found out you had been talking about me first. so, really, i should be asking you why you don’t like me.”

rafe blinked. all this time he thought that you felt the way you did just because. “how come you never asked me then?” you stayed silent for a few moments before shrugging. “everyone has always made their assumptions about me. about my parents, about my life.. but no one really knows me, or what really goes on in my home. i just let people think whatever they want.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “what do you mean?” at his words, you realized you may have said too much.

putting your defense back up, you backed away from him slightly before you scoffed. “you’re the last person i’d ever confide in, rafe.” the man next to you immediately recognized what you did, having veered away from being vulnerable a countless amount of times himself. rafe couldn’t help but keep digging. “let’s go tit for tat, then. you tell me something, anything you want, and i’ll say something in return. ‘that way it’s an even exchange.” apart of you hated him for making this so easy.

“i’m not doing that with you.” your voice sounded different. it lacked that usual bite and now rafe felt bad for opening his mouth in the first place. before the awkward tension could settle over you two again, you got up with your phone in your hand. “where are you going?” rafe watched as you slid the door open to the cabin area. “inside. i need to make a phone call.” you lied, walking past chanel and topper who were aggressively making out on the couch in the corner.

locking the small bathroom door behind you, you sighed, taking a moment to let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. what even was that out there? unlocking your phone, you sent chanel a text that you wanted to leave even though the chances of her seeing it was extremely slim. you stalled, deciding to freshen up your makeup as you waited for this so-called ‘date’ to end already. you were reapplying your lip gloss when your phone went off, making you mutter a ‘thank god’. instead of the notification being a message back from your best friend who was currently getting her face sucked off, it was from tumblr instead.

[9:14 PM] countryclub: what are you doing right now? i could use someone to talk to rn ngl

you looked up from your screen and stared into your reflection. this message came at just the right time.

[9:15 PM] brattydiaries: that makes two of us. i’m not with the sweet talk rn though, but i could use a distraction right now for sure..

[9:16 PM] countryclub: define ‘sweet talk’ cause i had every intention of asking you for some sexy pics and maybe a phone call if you’re down with that?

you refrained from laughing at his text, his bluntness throwing you for a loop. you couldn’t deny the giddy feeling you had in your tummy when you thought about hearing his voice. biting your lip nervously, you pulled the neckline of your dress down, exposing the lace of your bra before snapping a few pictures.

[9:19 PM] brattydiaries: 3 attachments

[9:20 PM] brattydiaries: here’s the first half of your request. make me wet and just maybe i’ll accept the call..

rafe was outside on the deck looking over his shoulder every two seconds to make sure you weren’t coming back in time to see the explicit photos currently illuminating his screen. he cursed under his breath, his eyes raking over the soft swells of your breasts. you were so fucking perfect, he couldn’t believe you were so close yet so far.

[9:22 PM] countryclub: fuckk you’re unreal.

[9:22 PM] countryclub: i hate that i’m wrapped up with something right now, otherwise i’d be sending you paragraphs about how pretty your tits look for me.

you sighed in defeat, making a mental note to send him a text once you were finally in the comfort of your own bed. with you still in the bathroom, rafe took his time examining the photos, his eyes widening slightly as he zoomed in on the dainty diamond pendant of your necklace, the background looking like something he has seen before.

[9:25 PM] brattydiaries: aww, too bad.

just then, chanel knocked on the bathroom door, her hair looking slightly out of place once you opened it. “i just saw your text. you ready to go?” you nodded, adjusting your dress before stepping out. “sorry to cock block you, i just had a really weird moment with rafe.” you explained, tossing your phone back in your purse. chanel waved you off before interlocking her arm with yours. “don’t even worry about it, we’re going back to his place, anyways.” she reassured you.

topper was already outside on the deck once you two made your way out of the cabin. glancing at rafe, you quickly looked away once you saw that he was already staring at you. “well, thanks for letting us use the druthers.” chanel smiled, in which rafe just shook his head. “ah, don’t even worry about it,” he held your stare, “..i had a good time.” blinking away from him, rafe’s eyes caught onto your cleavage once again, except this time; a sparkle from right above your neckline took him out of his reverie.

that necklace..

before he could piece anything together, you were moving with chanel, not sparing rafe another look as you were getting back onto the dock. the car ride back to your place was deadly silent. all except for the music topper had playing in the background. by the time you had gotten home and showered, you felt your world come to a stand still when your phone started ringing, an unsaved number with kildare island’s area code showing up at the top.

accepting the call, you held up the receiver to your ear with a shaky hand before speaking.

“hello?”

“..you sound pretty.”

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[heyimkana]

Come Home to Me (1/2)

Read Part 2 | Read it on AO3

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo X Female Reader

Genre: Marriage AU, fluff, smut, slight angst

Summary: Jinwoo bids you and his baby daughter goodbye before he goes on another dangerous mission. As his wife, you've grown used to the bittersweet farewell, only this time, you're not sure if he can return safely to you.

Word Count: 5K

Content Warnings: None for this one. Semi-public sex in part 2. Contains minor spoilers and the appearance of Beru, the shadow soldier that he obtained during Jeju Island Raid.

Author's Note: Wrote something fluffy for him since there's already plenty of Daddy!Jinwoo fics out there but none for Papa!Jinwoo 😔

A week. 

Your husband has only been gone for a week, tasting the air of a country that stretched like a vast sea on the other side of the world, wishing every breath and scenery was shared with you. And yet, the suspense of being kept in waiting, clueless to what was happening, was almost too much to bear. You never thought that seven days could stretch like infinity, how every hour passed by so slowly, so agonizingly, as if you had lost your sole purpose in life. Had you realized it sooner, you would’ve begged him not to go, knowing you’d be dreading every passing second, wondering if he was safe, if he was close to death’s door like the last time you let him go to protect Seoul from being transformed into an everlasting iceland. 

“What are you so worried about? You have it so easy. Your husband is untouchable. Try being a D-rank hunter’s wife like me. I’m lucky if he comes home with only a bruise on his face.”

What your neighbor told you was true. You had it easy compared to everyone else. You’re the wife of Korea’s 10th S-Rank Hunter. The Lord of the Undead. The Shadow Monarch. As the sixth nation-level hunter, maybe even a level beyond that, your husband’s strength was nearly immeasurable, far better than anyone else. But to you… He was just Sung Jinwoo. The father of your beautiful baby daughter, a loving husband who refused to believe that he was handsome enough to charm your heart from the very first sight, and an ardent lover who’d be more than willing to sacrifice the world for you, the same one he had vowed to protect with all his power. Jinwoo might be strong, surpassing all humans and beings alike, but even the Gods themselves weren’t invincible. And the thought of him not returning to you, no matter how slim the chance might be, scared you to your bones.

He had made enemies. Powerful enemies. Enemies that didn’t just wish to kill him but to torture. Enemies that were no longer just mindless beasts or demons but ones who bore immense hatred and revenge in their hearts.

With that knowledge in mind, all sorts of thoughts and scenarios raced through your head, all of them ending in worst-case scenarios.

What if Jinwoo doesn’t come home?

And, of course, amidst all that fear, there was loneliness. The kind that lingered every time your fingertips traced over your husband’s belongings in your bedroom. The kind that suffocated you when you caught a whiff of his sweet scent in your pillows. You thought you could handle it. It was only for a week, after all. It was not until later that you realized that it meant you had to miss seven occasions of him surprising you in the morning with a back hug and a tender kiss on your neck. Seven chances of seeing him opening the front door with a bag of sweets to please your daughter, embracing your little one with the sweetest of smiles before he greeted you with an equally sweet peck on the lips. Seven nights of nothing but the deafening silence to keep you company instead of deep, consuming kisses that took your breath away and a hand sliding up your thigh to remind you just who you belonged to.

You thought such a solitary feeling wouldn’t strike you so hard since you had your daughter to keep you company at all times, but it did, harder than lightning. You felt lonely the minute your husband kissed you goodbye. You felt lonely the moment he lovingly caressed your cheek, brushing another kiss, lighter and tender than before, right on your temple. You felt lonely the second his voice rang through your ears to speak his farewell, “Goodbye, baby. I’ll be home as soon as I clear the gate.” 

Soon was not enough. Soon, you realized, was just another word for eternity. Eternity without him. But the world needed him, and you couldn’t be selfish. You shouldn’t.

You hummed quietly in response, carrying your baby in your arms as your heart stood heavy with the fear for his safety. You knew you should’ve hidden it better so your husband could leave with ease. Seeing you worry so much would only make his heart ache more. 

You could tell that he already had his own concerns and doubts to dwell on, gnawing at him from the inside. Jinwoo was just better at hiding everything to himself—the burden he was carrying, the guilt of leaving you behind, the exhaustion of doing endless raids, one gate harder than the last. To tell the truth, he was as torn as you were. Like you, who constantly grew anxious over his well-being, he worried about yours, too, perhaps a million times worse. He was a hunter possessing God-like abilities, but you were just a human, as normal as one could be. The closest way to get to him, to strike him where he’d bleed the most, was through you. You and his sweet baby daughter. It was the reason why Jinwoo had assigned a hundred High Orcs to protect the neighborhood, with another hundred swarming beneath the shadows of your walls. He’d transformed your home into a fortress, and yet, even then, his concern for you remained. But your husband never told you this, and he wished you wouldn’t come to realize it on your own, not wanting you to feel like you were the anchor that slowed him down, a weight that would drown him deep into the void. 

You should’ve done the same. As his wife, the least you could do was put up a strong face, convince him that everything would be fine, that he’d return home safely, and that you’d be there waiting for him to welcome him with the warmth of your lips meeting his own. You could’ve offered him the peace he secretly sought after, and most of the time, you did a fine job at it, but this evening was different. There was a sense of impending dread closing in with every tick of the clock, and you couldn’t wash it away no matter what you did.

With his car keys dangling in one hand, Jinwoo headed toward your porch, carrying a suitcase with him. His long coat swayed gracefully with each step taken, his matching black shirt unbuttoned low enough to showcase the dip of his sternum. Even from behind, he appeared tall and strong, providing the feeling of security you couldn’t find in anyone else. Your baby held onto you, laying her head on your chest as you followed after your husband’s footsteps, oblivious to the heavy storm raging in your mind. 

Don’t go. You felt like catching his hand and pulling him back even from the second he removed himself from your embrace. “J-Jinwoo.”

His gaze flickered back to you, one hand settled on the door of his car. His eyes, the same pair that caused even the most vicious beast to tremble in fear, they were always so gentle to you, weren’t they? “Yeah?”

You swallowed your breath. Don’t tell him. Don’t make him worry more than he already is. You released a shaky breath, followed closely after with your best smile. “Be safe.”

A flash of curiosity fleeted across his face. He sensed something from how you behaved but did not quite understand it just yet, as your mask was nearly perfect. Smiling to himself, he settled down his suitcase and returned to you. Jinwoo laid a hand on your head, his palm large and gentle. As you looked up, greeted by his towering height, he bent himself slightly to be closer to you. He brushed the stray strands out of your eyes; his smile had a hint of confidence—maybe even arrogance—in it. “And who do you think you’re talking to, Sweetheart?”

To anyone else’s eyes, your husband might often come across as indifferent, with his charisma and leadership ceaselessly exuding out of him, making him seem unapproachable, guarded. But to you, he was always playful. Cheeky. Flirty, even. Not too much, just enough for your heart to palpitate inside your ribcages, just enough for you to recall the reason why your life was so beautiful, meaningful. No, the reason why you were alive in the first place. 

But it wasn’t enough to ease your worry, not today. Even so, you returned it with a delicate bow of your lips. “My husband,” you said, angling your head just enough for his hand to slide down to your cheek, gazing up at him with sincerity, “who I couldn’t bear to live without.”

He blinked, taken by surprise with such an earnest answer. Once the words sank in, his entire expression softened. His fingertips traced the contour of your cheek, a touch so tender you wondered if it truly belonged to someone who had drenched his hands in blood. His palm was rough, calloused from all the countless hours he’d spent wielding his dagger, but it comforted you more than anything else. “You’re right, I am,” he replied softly. “Which is why you don’t need to worry. As your husband, I have the responsibility—and this aching need—to be with you. No matter how hard it is, no matter how long it will take me, I will do anything, everything, to make sure I return to you.” He lifted your face just enough to brush a kiss on your temple. “I’ll come home safe and sound, the way I always do. You just need to trust me on this, all right?”

You believed him—you did, you always did—but you couldn’t put the same faith in whoever controlled his fate.

Jinwoo stood close, close enough for you to take in his scent and feel the familiar heat radiating from his body. He brought your face to his, pressing your foreheads together. Your lids fluttered shut at the intimacy, a habit of yours that he’d grown to adore. You wanted to cry, the silvery voice in your mind telling you this might be the last time you could bask in this serenity. You would’ve done it, sobbed your heart out, if it wasn’t because of the thin thread of restraint holding you together. 

“Instead of telling me to be safe,” Jinwoo breathed out softly, closing his eyes just the same. “Tell me you’ll be waiting for me.” He returned the small distance between your faces, just enough for you to marvel at the sweetness of his smile. “That you’ll be here, standing by the door to greet me with a smile, with the same kiss you gave me before we parted. Can you do that for me, Sweetheart? Can you wait here for me, stay safe, and make sure that I have something to come back to?”

You squeezed your lips tightly before you altered the tremble running through them into a smile. You covered his hand with your own, your digit brushing against the silver ring that adorned his lean finger, glinting under the sunset with your name carved inside. “Jin…” You brushed your lips against the center of his palm, exhaling heavily as you drowned in his warmth. It was nearly impossible to release the words, the same way you never wanted to release him. “Come home soon. Come home to me. I’ll be waiting for you.”

For someone who rarely showed emotions across his face, his joy unfolded like a flower, crystal clear for even your baby to see. With a quiver in his breath, his voice dropped an octave lower. “Baby,” he sighed, his voice hoarse with need, your stomach somersaulting at the sound. “You’re making it so hard for me to leave right now.”

If it was hard for him, it was unbearable to you. “I was just doing what you told me to.”

“I didn’t expect you to say it like that,” he replied, almost in a whine. “Now, I’ve lost motivation to go. Maybe I should just change back to my sweatpants and cuddle with you two. Watch cartoons all day. Eat cakes and have tea parties.” He tickled his daughter by the chin, returning her questioning eyes with a slight grin. “Doesn’t that sound fun, Princess?”

It was heartwarming the way he spoke it, the way he imagined it, how he craved for more time to spend with his family. “Then, stay,” you said, an impish, albeit faint, smile twinkled on your pretty mouth. “Stay with me.” You pulled your daughter, who had been listening while babbling quietly to herself, closer to you, your cheek squeezed tight against her plump one. “With us.”

“And watch the world burn?” His chuckle, your favorite sound in the world, reverberated nicely in your ears. 

You fell into deep rumination, taking his words into serious consideration despite it being a jest. A dungeon break would happen soon on the other side of the world, and an S-rank gate at that. Nobody was strong enough to close it. Nobody was strong enough to clear it. It would destroy the whole city in the following two days had it not been taken care of—no, maybe even the entire state. Hundreds—thousands—of innocent lives would be wiped out in an instant should that happen. Your husband had the power to stop it. He was the only one capable of saving them, but… 

“Would that… be so bad?” You feebly questioned before you could stop yourself, almost pleadingly. “Just one time… Don’t be a hero just this one time. Just be my husband and stay with me. Stay right here, where I need you the most.”

His smile vanished, his body freezing at the solemnity in your tone. He was lost for words, perplexity in his stare. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed his breath. Jinwoo cupped your cheek again, his gaze turning stern as he beseeched you for the truth. “Are you really asking me that?”

You gulped. His words had weight behind them, responding to you just as earnestly. It was almost as if he was on the verge of doing the same, just needing that one last push for his will to save the world to shatter. Your words could be it.

You felt weak under his stare, almost breathless, intoxicated by how deeply he loved you, to the point he would trade innocent lives for it. “As long as that means you can always be with me,” you answered, letting your selfish thought slip, saying it so quietly as if you couldn’t bear the Gods to know just how sinful your wish was. “I’ll trade the world for it.”

Not a word flowed from his mouth. His hold on your face was almost as still as a statue. Within this proximity, under this palpable tension, your gaze dropped to his thin lips, the same way his deep, cobalt eyes fell to yours. His eyes darkened, his body burning with desire. “Don’t tempt me,” he uttered, almost in a growl, before he smashed your lips together. He gathered your face in his hands, kissing you fast and hard, disregarding everything, anything except you. You could feel just how much he wanted to make your wish come true, and it painted elation onto your soul but guilt onto your heart. It was an awful thing to say, jest or not.

His moan, soft, breathy, and sensual, granted a layer of sweet vibration on your lips, and oh, you were wrong. This one was your favorite sound in the world. You were in the middle of drowning in his kiss, in the swirling, intense emotions he permeated your heart with, when the sound of your daughter’s giggles rang through the air. Immediately, you stopped, breaking away from him. “W-what are you laughing about, Sweetheart?” you asked her, flames licking your cheeks. “I can’t believe we just did that in front of our child!” You hissed at him, glaring.

Jinwoo averted his face to the side, looking just as flushed and caught off guard. Wiping the stain of your lip gloss off his lips with his knuckles, he uttered back, “Don’t blame me. This is all your fault.”

“How is it my fault? You kissed me.”

“You were looking at me with those eyes.”

“With what eyes?” You played dumb. “This is how I normally look at you.”

He snorted, amused. “Oh, so you weren’t just staring at my lips? Asking me to sacrifice the world for you while you did it?”

Your face sizzled. “Oh, shut up.”

Jinwoo laughed, quiet and soft as always, but his eyes crinkled prettily around the edges. Your daughter chortled along, too, as if she could understand the words you exchanged with your husband. In reality, she was simply mirroring the joy that gleamed on both of your faces, happy to see the unspoken, lingering sadness between you disappear even for a moment.

When you returned your stare from your daughter to the man before you, you caught him staring at you. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” Jinwoo shrugged with a smile. Happy. “Hey, can you say it again?”

“Say what?”

“That you’ll be waiting for me to come back to you.”

Your heart thrashed inside your ribcages. For some reason, with him looking at you with those eyes and that smile, it felt mortifying to repeat it. You looked away, mumbling out the words almost inaudibly, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Baby,” he playfully scolded. “Be a good girl and say it like you mean it.”

Good gi—Must he say it like that? Your cheeks burned. “I’ll… I’ll be waiting… for you.”

So cute, his expression seemed to say, adoring you with his smile growing wide and clear, consumed by the love you presented him, love that was fully returned. “One more time, love. Please.”

You exhaled, finally succumbing to his wish. You held his gaze, your expression sheepish, nervous, but you said it as best as you could, placing a piece of your heart in every word.

“Come home to me. I’ll be waiting for you. I’ll always be waiting for you.”

It resonated straight into his chest, erasing every hint of smirk off his lips. A spark of desire filled his gaze as he dove his head to capture your lips once more, forgetting yet again that your baby was there—looking at the two of you with curious eyes.

“H-Honey,” you stopped him just in time despite wanting it as badly—especially after that last kiss. Funny how your body still longed desperately for his touch even after he’d endlessly robbed moans out of your mouth the previous night. “Your daughter’s still here.”

“Right.” Jinwoo broke free from the thought, no matter how inviting your lips looked. He turned toward his daughter, rubbing her head. “Sorry, kiddo. Mommy looked so pretty; I got completely absorbed for a moment there. The one before that was completely her fault, though.”

You elbowed him on the side, stealing another chuckle from him. “You’re not in a hurry, are you? I still want to talk to you. I’m sure your daughter feels the same, too. Even for a minute is fine, just… just stay.”

Happiness, one that you brought to him, was the perfect shade to color his face. Being so needed by you, so wanted… You were his motivation to fight and survive. He wanted to memorize your face, to engrave it into his mind so that he could hold onto it, even in the midst of battle. “Of course, baby.”

You dwelled in another string of conversation, something light to pacify your mind. You couldn’t help but stare a little as he spoke, adoring how his hair framed his face so perfectly. He looked exceptionally handsome standing before you, causing you to wonder if it was because your heart was already yearning so terribly for him, knowing you’d be deprived of his touch for days after.

The baby in your arms looked up at her father, her hand reaching forward to touch him, her twin-tails swaying in the air with every movement. “Papa…”

Jinwoo bent his head low to meet her at her eye level, smiling when she splayed her hand on his cheek. “Yes, my darling?” 

“Shaef…” She cooed, still having trouble pronouncing her words clearly. “Papa, shaef…”

Your lips curved up in a downhearted smile. “She wants you to be safe. Seems like she’s worried about you, too.”

You could see his emotions swirling in his eyes, how touched he was, how much it pained him to tear himself away from his little family, but it was a mission he needed to do. A mission that only he could do. He collected himself before more pieces of his heart broke, rubbing her head so affectionately. “I will be, Sweetheart. Daddy will be just fine. There’s no need to worry about me. Daddy’s stronger than anyone else.”

Your daughter tried to imitate the word ‘strong’ in response, an act so adorable that it stole a peal of laughter from both of you. “That’s right, Sweetie,” he crooned. “And you will be as strong as me, too, one day, but for now, I’ll have Beru watching over you at all times, okay? He’s tougher than any S-rank hunter here. He can protect you from anything.”

She blinked her doe eyes, patting his father’s cheek. “Boo… Bewu… Boo…”

Jinwoo sewed his brows in confusion. “What?”

You tittered. “She’s asking you if Beru could protect her from ghosts, too. Remember last Halloween when we bought her the storybook with the little white ghost? She’s talking about that one.”

“Oh, yeah,” he recalled the memory with delight. “You’re scared of the little ghost, baby?”

“Boo! Boo!”

“I see,” he chuckled lightly at her reaction. “Well, yes, Beru can certainly protect you from that, too. Just give me a second, all right?” 

Your husband straightened himself, his eyes emitting an ominous glow, a pair of brilliant amethyst gleaming underneath the orange tinge of the setting sun. No matter how often you’d seen it, it still sent shivers down your spine. 

“Come forth.”

A shadow soldier, a huge, humanoid ant with a light purple glow, neon eyes, and smoky wings, was born out of his spell, his body manifesting out of thin air. Beru, he was called, a name Jinwoo had bestowed upon him after he resurrected him during the deadly raid on Jeju island. 

The warrior kneeled before his summoner at once, bending his head low. “My liege.”

“Take care of my wife and baby while I’m away. Should any harm come to them…” It shimmered brighter, the eerie glow inside his eyes, carrying the horror of death itself. His voice vibrated dangerously, pressure in each word. “You know what I’ll do to you, right?”

The shadow, one of the strongest generals in his army, gulped in fear. “Y-yes, my liege.”

“Don’t be too harsh on him, Jin,” you scold your husband, rubbing his arm. “He’s doing us a favor.” You greeted the soldier with a warm smile. “I’ll be in your care again, Beru.”

“It is an honor, milady.” Beru placed his hand over his chest, his claws long enough to graze his own shoulder as he inclined his body forward. “I swear upon my life that I will do whatever it takes to protect you, even if it means my bones will shatter to dust.”

Jinwoo visibly rolled his eyes at his dramatic act. “See, this is exactly why I should be a little strict with him. You’re spoiling him too much.”

“I think he deserves it. He’s been an excellent babysitter to us. And he cleans up the house better than you do. He just talks a bit funny, that’s all.”

“Oh, Queen Consort,” Beru nearly sobbed, the black smoke around him trembled. “Your praise is too much for my humble self to accept. How can I, Beru, your most loyal servant, repay you for such kindness?”

“Stopping yourself from watching all those historical dramas would be a start,” your husband muttered.

“Shush, he can watch whatever he wants,” you lightly chastised him again, to which Jinwoo sighed in defeat. “Though I would’ve liked it better if you could just address me normally, Beru. Calling me the… Queen Consort is kind of embarrassing.”

Beru performed his respect with an exaggerated bow. “I will call you whatever title you see fit, milady. Please. Tell me. How should I refer to you, O my Gracious One?”

You cringed at the title. “My name?”

Horror fell upon his face as soon as the words reached his ears. “I-I cannot do that, milady! I will never be so disrespectful as to call you merely by your name. You are the Queen of The Shadow Realm. The Wife of Death. The Worthy Bearer of my King’s Seeds—”

“‘Milady’ then!” You exclaimed with haste, face aflame. “M-Milady is fine, just—never call me that.”

Jinwoo bit his lip, trying to bite back his laughter. “The last one has a nice ring to it.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

In the hilarity of the moment, your baby suddenly launched her hands in the air, her feet kicking around in excitement. “Bewu! Bewu!”

“Aaw, look at her, Jinwoo,” your mouth broke into a wide grin as you struggled to keep her in your arms. “She’s so happy to see him.”

“L-little monarch,” Beru, without a doubt, began to cry, touched by the baby’s attachment to him. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Princess. May—may I carry her in my arms, milady?”

“Sure.” You closed the distance, gently handing her over to him. “Watch your claws.”

“Of course, milady.” The soldier wept at their reunion, tears streaming down his armor-like skin. Your baby tugged onto one of his antennae, using it as her personal rattle toy, giggling as she did it. You and your husband smiled; your hearts thawed at the sight. 

Jinwoo, acting aloof as always, stuffed his hands inside his coat pockets, huffing out, “How is she not terrified of him but gets scared of a drawing? That little ghost was cute and Beru is like… that.”

“I take pride in my appearance, my liege. Nothing can penetrate my skin, not even the teeth of a mighty beast.” Under Jinwoo’s flat stare, Beru cowered. “N-nothing except your daggers, my liege.”

Your body shook a little with mirth as you replied, “Babies don’t see things the way we do, darling. Maybe she thinks Beru is cute.”

He hummed before he leaned closer to you. “And who do you think is cute?” A little smirk embellished his lips, his voice silky-smooth.

Understanding what lies behind his words, you slid a hand up his chest, an inkling of seduction in your smile. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure I do,” he teased back, loving the little game you played. “Care to enlighten me?”

Your hand rested on his shoulder before you guided him down to bring his ear close to your lips. You let your mouth caress his lobe, just a little, just enough to drive him crazy, and with the most sultry, alluring voice you could muster, you whispered your answer, “Beru.”

Though he grunted in dissatisfaction, a faint blush still smeared his cheek. Feeling the softness of your lips upon his sensitive skin, even after years of marriage, still did something to him. “You’re such a tease, you know that?”

“What?” You feigned innocence. “I really think he’s cute.”

“Of course you do,” he scoffed, to which you giggled in response.

“Papa,” your daughter points her finger at him, stealing his attention once more. “Papa, stay!”

“Does she think I’m a dog?” Jinwoo uttered before a chuckle followed. Shortening the small distance between them, he nuzzled his nose against her tiny palm, his usually stern eyes turning softer than the first snow of December. “You know how much I’d love to stay with you, baby girl, but I can’t. Daddy needs to go and save the world from the big, scary monsters out there so they won’t come and steal your little nose.” He pinched her pointy nose lightly, making her giggle with it. “But I will miss you. I will miss you so much, kiddo. So, be a good girl and wait for my return, okay? Daddy will be back before you know it.”

“Stay!” She insisted still, nearly launching herself forward in her vehement protest. “Stay, Papa, stay!”

“All right, all right, come here.” Your husband stole his daughter back from the shadow’s embrace, carrying her with ease in one arm despite her growing weight. “Let’s talk about it like adults, shall we?”

Life had passed by so quickly, faster than your brain could retain the memories, but you could still recall the first day you saw him holding your baby in his arms just like this. His expression back then was a mixture of excitement, the fear of the unknown, but above all, the love he was so eager to give. His hair was disheveled, his smile weary, and black circles stained his fair skin from all the sleepless hours he’d spent waiting beside your bed, praying for the Gods to ease your pain. He shed plenty of tears on the morning you finally opened your lids, thinking that it would take you forever to wake up, just like his mother once did. Perhaps even worse. With his sharp senses, he could tell just how much yours were fading away, and it frightened him more than the time he dealt with the giants in Cartenon Temple, so much that his fingers shook as they held yours tightly in the middle of his prayer.

It wasn’t an easy process bringing your little bundle of joy into the world—a life-threatening situation, all because she inherited just a hint of Jinwoo’s immense power. You suffered terribly during your pregnancy days, even more so when you were closer to the due date. Your daughter was so close to tearing open your womb and leaving you to bleed to death on your bed before the doctors took you away just in time to perform the surgery. Jinwoo had witnessed everything from behind the glass doors, feeling so powerless, useless, and loathing himself for it. His dose of the Elixir of Life had run out a while ago, and mere potions would never be enough to heal the internal wounds your daughter had caused you. Beru’s healing magic could only bring a little peace to your sleep, but it could not touch the root of your agony. Without any of these miracles, there was nothing Jinwoo could do but hold your hand and wish he could trade his life with yours. It brought you immense joy to see how everything worked out wonderfully in the end. 

Gratitude washed over you as you took in the sight of your husband trying his best to keep up with your daughter’s babbles. “Slow down, love. Daddy can’t understand you.” 

“She said you looked very magnificent today, my liege,” Beru attempted to interpret. “Very dandy. Truly, the living proof of how a man’s beauty could rival the heavens’—”

“No, she did not say that. And don’t say dandy.” Jinwoo cut him off with an exasperated sigh before he placed his focus back on her. “That’s quite a compelling argument you have there, Sweetie. Is that all, or should I give you some time to vent a bit more?” She answered with two pats on his nose. “You’ve said everything, huh? Right, okay. Hmm… That is certainly a very, very concerning problem. I wonder what we should do about it…” He pretended to think, tapping his chin. “Oh, I know. Why don’t you and I make a little promise? Here.” He held his fifth finger in the air, dragging it closer to her face. “Grab my pinky.” The baby blinked cutely in return, staring at it almost with wonder. It took her all of her tiny fingers to surround his own completely, and like how every baby behaved, she instinctively brought it to her mouth. “No, no, no, honey,” Jinwoo chuckled. “You don’t eat this one, okay? We’re making a promise. A pinky promise, the most special one of all. Are you ready?”

“Weady!”

“That’s the spirit, Sweetheart. All right, here we go.” He shook their fingers together. “Daddy promise that I will come home soon, and once I do, I’ll tell you all about the amazing adventure I had when I was away. All about the bears, and the dragons, everything. How about that, love? Sounds good?” 

Though you doubted she understood everything, she mimicked him by saying, “Good!”

He laughed softly. “Okay. Now, it’s your turn, Princess.” Jinwoo switched his voice, turning it a pitch higher. “I promise I will be good to Mommy when Daddy is away. And I promise I will kick Beru in the face if he ends up watching TV again instead of looking after me.”

“My liege…” The shadow called out dejectedly. “Do you really think I would do such a thing to your precious one?”

“No, I don’t,” Jinwoo tossed him a smile, one that was so genuinely warm, almost affectionate, even. “I know you’ll take care of my family as best as you can. That’s why I trust you, Beru. I’m counting on you.”

It didn’t take long for the soldier to crumble to his feet, bawling. “Y-your kind words have touched me so deeply, my king!”

No one is immune to his charm, you thought, almost rolling your eyes. Though you couldn’t really chaff about it as you fell victim to his charm, too. “Honey, don’t forget. She’ll turn two next Monday. Will you be home by then?”

“Of course,” Jinwoo said, rubbing the tip of his nose to his daughter’s, making her giggle with it. “Clearing an S-rank gate shouldn’t take more than two days, even by myself. The problem is that I have plenty of meetings with the higher-ups after that. It’s a pain. I wish I could just skip them all together, but… Well, if I run out of time, I can use Shadow Exchange to return home.”

You scrunched up your nose. “And ditch your meetings just like that? Wouldn’t that cause more trouble?”

“Yeah, Jinho would probably kill me for it,” he smirked, expressing barely any remorse. “But he’ll understand. He knows that family always comes first to me. I wouldn’t want to miss my baby’s birthday.” He squeezed the round flesh of her cheek between two fingers, smiling fondly with a glint of heartbreak in his eyes. “Daddy’s been so busy with all the raids that he hasn’t noticed how fast his baby girl is growing.” He sighed in regret, stroking her locks. “I wish time could move slower. I want you to stay like this forever. So tiny and adorable, looking so pretty with your mother’s smile.”

“I don’t know, honey. I think she looks more like you than me.”

“I think she’s the perfect combination of us, and I love that.” He gathered both of you close, hugging you at the same time, his lips caressing your hairline as he spoke. “I can’t believe you and I could make something so pretty. I thank the Gods every day for that. For this little family I have right here.”

You could feel the rapid beating of your heart as you buried your face into his chest. His scent was heavenly. Comforting. Masculine and attractive. When he let go, he took a fraction of your heart with him. 

“Daddy will bring you lots and lots of gifts, okay?” He pecked his daughter’s head. “Pretty things for you, and,” his gaze flew back to you, softening at the view. “Something sweet for your mother.”

You melted into a smile. “Just come home to me in one piece. That’s all I ask.”

He nodded, an unspoken promise that he’d keep close to his heart as he viciously took the life of another. “I better go,” he said, carefully handing his baby over to Beru, who clutched onto her so endearingly. “Jinho is waiting for me at the office.”

“Wait, I thought you were heading straight to the airport.”

“No, I need to drop by for a minute to grab some paperwork. I’m also leaving my car there, so.”

“Why don’t you just summon Kaisel?”

“I think it’s better for me to lay low for a bit. I don’t want to end up on the news again. Not everyone is used to seeing a flying beast in the sky, you see. But it’s fine. Jinho will drive me to the airport later.”

“You treating the son of a billionaire as your own Uber driver is still hilarious to me,” you simper.

A wave of his deep chuckle mixed in with yours. “He’s just being nice.”

“Can’t you, at least, sit on the front? I feel sorry for him.”

“But I like sitting in the backseat,” he said, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand, somewhat suggestive. “It reminds me of… the fun we’ve had together.”

Though heat crept up fast onto your cheeks, you narrowed your eyes at him. “If Jinho finds out we did that in his car, he’d be livid.”

“Then, we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t,” he answered with a sly smirk. “About that last time and… Well, the future ones.”

“Do it in our car next time.” 

“Oh, so there will be future occasions, huh? Noted.” His thin lips twisted in a devilish grin, pleased by the thought, saying it so shamelessly even with Beru bearing witness to the conversation. “Another reason for me to come back, then. Faster.” 

You turned flustered, shaking your head in disbelief despite your chest tightening in anticipation of passionate, spontaneous, breathless romance in the middle of nowhere, your body pressed against the leather seats, your breaths fogging the windows. “I-I take back what I said.”

“No takebacks, Sweetheart. You know I don’t like that.”

He spoke his last sentence almost in a husky, erotic whisper, reminding you of all the times in bed when you didn’t… behave properly. “Jinwoo, you said you didn’t want to be on the news. If we get caught—”

“For this one…” He sneaked an arm around your waist, pulling you closer toward him. His lips grazed your ear, teasing and seductive, almost the perfect imitation of how you did it to him before. “I’ll be very, very careful. Don’t want the world to see just how beautiful my wife looks under the moonlight, after all.” 

You could already tell that his tantalizing smile would linger for hours in your memory, even long after he departed. You cleared your throat, regaining your composure. “I-is Jinho coming with you?”

He found hilarity in the way you swerved the conversation, but he made no comment on it. “No. He wants to, but I won’t let him. It’s too dangerous. I sensed something different with this one, something similar to that eerie feeling when I entered the red gate. It’s better if I go alone. I don’t want to risk anyone’s life by coming with me.”

But you’ll… risk your own life for it… The anchor in your chest returned, weighing you down harder than before. You were careful not to let your tongue form your concern into words, but Jinwoo, as always, was observant, attentive to the slightest change in your expression. 

“Hey.” He trapped your chin between his fingers, tilting it up, locking your gazes together. “It’s dangerous for Jinho, but not me. I’ll be fine, trust me.”

“I know you will,” you murmured, more for your own ears to hear. 

Catching Beru’s soft hum, you glanced to your side. The shadow soldier rocked your baby in his arms, swaying her from side to side, cradling her close as her lids began to grow heavy. “She must have been exhausted after playing all day,” you pondered aloud. Intertwining your fingers with his, you leaned against his shoulder, your sigh heavy as you whispered, “It’s nice to have Beru here with us, but… It also reminds me that you won’t be around. I’ll miss you, probably more than I ever did. I miss you terribly even now.”

For a moment, Jinwoo fell mute, doing nothing but curling his fingers around yours a little tighter. Then, with his jaws tightened, he released his command. 

“Beru, take my daughter inside. I need to be with my wife. Alone.”  ***

Next Chapter

Here's an audio track so you can imagine just how soft and wonderful husband!jinwoo sounds 😁

Beru the babysitter 😭

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part one)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

author’s note thank you to this anon!! this fic deviates from canon. timeline is s2 when rafe is at his most unhinged.

» masterlist

disclaimer there is no explicit s/xual assault scene in this story, but it is referenced and the trauma that comes with surviving it is explored. it is committed by an original character. when writing this, i pulled from personal experience, so please be mindful that if you comment, do not engage in any victim-blaming as it is triggering to me and others.

·········

In a single harrowing moment, you’ve learned that there’s truth to the expression that the enemy of your enemy can be your friend.

Rafe looks all too comfortable holding a gun. The rage coursing through you is deafening, persuading you that the person he’s pointing it at deserves to die.

And then, you utter the words rising in your throat.

“Do it.”

╰┈➤ two days earlier

Your shifts at the country club are a repetitive motion of driving over the golf course’s hills, handing the island’s wealthiest people their overpriced drinks, and accepting their money with a fake smile.

The job was always a predictable bore. Until a week ago, when you started seeing a familiar face.

The moment Rafe’s eyes landed on you and he realized that one of the Pogues he revels in berating is the new cart girl, his lips twitched into a smirk.

Every time you see him, he does the same thing. He orders a beer and says here you go, sweetheart when he tips you.

It’s always a fifty. No other club member gives you nearly this much. It’s like he loves reminding you that this type of money is pocket change to him.

Every time you serve him, you subdue your glare and take the crisp bill that sits between his fingers, wondering why even though the man is an arrogant asshole, you can’t stop staring at him.

You feel weak for not hating him all the way. You can’t help that over the years of your tense, sporadic interactions, a part of you has always wondered if he feels the same pull of attraction that you do.

You have to remind yourself of who he is. A man committed to letting everyone know how much better he thinks he is because he was lucky enough to be born into money. He’s heartless. And you can’t wait for the day that you finally rid yourself of this fixation you have for him.

It’s a sunny Thursday afternoon at the end of a long shift and you’re parked by one of the paved pathways on the course, recording your last transaction in your logbook.

You hear the familiar whirring of a cart passing by. It stops. You don’t think much of it until you hear his voice.

“We’ll take two beers,” he calls from behind the steering wheel. You look up to see him. Rafe.

“I’m obviously off duty,” you reply curtly, looking between him and his friend.

“What, so you can write in your diary, but you can’t give us some drinks?” he calls.

“It’s a logbook,” you reply coldly. “It’s called having–”

You flatten your lips together, trying to control yourself.

“Having…?” he challenges. The mocking tone of his voice is what makes you snap.

“A job,” you reply. “Not everyone can live off of daddy’s money.”

Rafe huffs a laugh, a wisp of amusement flashing on his face.

“Careful, Pogue,” he says. “What’ll your boss say if he knows that’s how you’re talking to me?”

“I’m off the clock, Kook,” you say the label with the same vitriol. “I can talk however I want.”

You close your book and start up your cart before he can irritate you any more. Even though there’s something aggravatingly magnetic about him, you refuse to allow him to taunt you any longer.

·········

You meet up with your friends on the beach that evening, zoning out as the three of them chatter around you, passing a joint you brought.

You stare ahead at the soft waves under the setting sun, thinking of Rafe’s cold stare, thinking of the smirk he seems to always have etched on his face reserved especially for you, thinking of how you wish your body would catch up with your mind because how can you dislike somebody this much but also be so attracted to them?

“Who’s your plug?” JJ asks, seemingly impressed. He pulls you out of your daze as he passes you the joint. Smoke curls out of the end of it, twisting in the wind.

“That guy, Porter,” you say flatly. You take a puff, thinking back to the shaggy-haired Kook who approached you at a party on the north side of the island the other night, offering you half the price on your first buy.

He also tried to convince you to try something harder, but you told him you’re sticking to pot. You weren’t about to get hooked on coke, especially not because a drug-dealing Kook wants to take more of your money.

You continue to stare ahead, passing the joint along.

“What a trust fund kid name,” JJ laughs. “Fuckin’ Porter.”

Your friends chuckle around you, but you continue to stare ahead.

“Hard day at the office?” he says in response to your absentmindedness. You meet JJ’s gaze, shaking your head as if to dismiss your own thoughts.

“Rafe is such an asshole,” you say.

“What’d he do this time?” Pope asks. Your friends await your response, already well aware of your history with the bullshit you’ve ever had to deal with at work lately.

“He said something about ratting me out to my boss for talking back to him,” you reply. You scoff, getting mad all over again. You need to pull yourself out of this funk. “Whatever. All I do is complain about him. He’s not worth it. This is the last time you’ll ever hear me talk about him. I mean it.”

You make an effort to join in your friends’ conversations, feeling guilty that you’re so spaced out. With parents who never give you much attention at all, the guys surrounding you are your family. Your brothers. They deserve better than to hear you ramble on about Rafe.

Rafe’s eyes travel over the silhouettes sitting along the darkening shoreline when he arrives at the beach with his friends.

It’s the sound of his pick-up truck’s door shutting that gets your attention. You look over your shoulder. Then, you glance away, indifference on your face.

It pisses him off. Rafe has always craved what he can’t have. Power. Self-control. You. Every time he talks to you, you act like he’s such a bother, a sharp thorn in your side.

You get under his skin. And he’s never wanted a girl this bad. A goddamn Pogue of all people. Something about you lures him in. It makes him want to see what really lies behind the irritation that burns in your eyes every time he speaks to you.

He needs to crack your armor. And he has always loved a challenge.

As the beach populates, the division between the Kooks and the Pogues is clear, as if an invisible line is drawn in the sand. He stays on his side, you stay on yours.

When night falls, you and your friends have all smoked through the entire joint, and you’re a bit buzzed but not nearly as high as you’d like to be.

You spot Porter by the shoreline, drinking with his friends, and dust the sand off your knees when you stand up.

“I’m gonna go buy some more,” you say to your friends.

“Going into enemy territory?” JJ asks.

“It’s nothing new to me,” you laugh. “I work in enemy territory, remember?”

“You need company? Or cash?” John B asks.

“All good. My treat,” you say. “I’m loaded with tips.”

You don’t mention that a majority of the money in your pocket is from Rafe.

As you approach the boisterous group, you cross your arms and feign confidence. In reality, being around these types has always put you on edge.

Kooks give off a sense of invincibility, almost impunity, like predators at the top of the food chain, perpetually safe from harm and always on the brink of inflicting it.

You notice Rafe’s stare on you from his place in the large group and your stomach twists. Your eyes flit off of him and you wonder how it’s possible to wish someone would stay away but also so deeply crave they’d come closer.

Truthfully, within the tangled way he makes you feel, you’re kind of scared of Rafe, too. He’s reckless and unpredictable. And yet, that side of him excites you. There’s a complexity to him that has an inescapable effect on you.

“You holding?” you ask Porter once you approach him. He’s one of the few Kooks you don’t mind so much. He doesn’t have the cold air of arrogance that you’re so used to.

“It’s good shit, isn’t it?” he says with a smile. “How much you want?”

You leaf through the bills in your hand.

“Just a joint,” you say. The waves crash behind you, almost drowning your voice out. You make the exchange and push through the crowd, eager to get back to your friends.

You thought you managed to get away without any complications, but two words stop you.

“You lost?”

You turn to see Rafe, overwhelming heat rushing through you as he closes the distance between you, towering over you as the breeze brushes his hair over his forehead.

“What, ‘cause I’m on your side of the beach?” you mutter. “Grow up.”

Rafe smirks. He gets such a kick out of fucking with the Pogues. Especially you.

“Is that what you’re spending my tips on?” he asks, eyes darting down to the joint in your hand.

“Yeah,” you answer. “You can tell your father I say thanks.”

Rafe’s mouth curls into a bigger smile. When he looks at you like that, like he wants to be around you, you wonder if he secretly enjoys your company.

“How long you been buying from him?” Rafe asks.

“Why?” you say. The way you glare at him makes every muscle in his body tense. He’d be an idiot to deny how attracted he is to you. “You gonna tell my boss?”

“It was a fucking joke,” he mutters with a laugh. “You Pogues all have sticks up your asses, I swear.”

You grit your teeth. He’s clearly pleased when he riles you up like this. You don’t understand how somebody could be so spiteful.

“What do you want, Rafe?” you say.

Silence settles between you, the chattering of people on either side of the beach intertwined in the air, an overlap of worlds far apart. He reminds himself that he has something important to ask you.

“Did he offer you anything else?” he says. You’ve already heard the gossip about how Rafe’s selling coke now. He must want to offer you a better price.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” you reply. Rafe scoffs, his tongue jutting under his cheek as he takes you in.

“I’d never sell to you.”

You huff a flat chuckle. You’re tired of his juvenile obsession with the class divide that sits between you.

“So, I’m good enough to serve you drinks, but not good enough to buy your drugs?”

You feel a sick sense of satisfaction when his face hardens with anger. For a second, you worry that you’re just as spiteful as he is, that you’re no better than him.

Rafe scoffs. He’s seen what coke does to people. To himself. He refuses to see it happen to you. But of course you expect the worst of him. Like everyone else does.

“Did he offer you anything else or not?” Rafe repeats with a note of irritation.

“Why?” you sputter.

“I need to know if he’s trying to steal from me.”

Rafe refuses to be in competition with anyone. Other Kooks can sell weed all they want, but coke is his territory, and if he has to claim his territory, so be it. He’s heard rumblings that Porter’s expanded his offerings now. And Rafe isn’t going to let him fuck him over.

“He did,” you finally answer. “Coke. He said it’s the purest on the island.”

He only nods tersely, lips twisting in frustration, before he turns around and storms away from you. So, that’s all he wanted from you. Information.

“You’re welcome,” you half-shout. Curiosity pulls you in as your eyes follow him into the crowd. Sure enough, Rafe pushes Porter to the ground, shouting indistinctly, earning jeers from the crowd.

It’s typical. Nearly every time you see Rafe out socially, he’s yelling and fighting someone. You walk back to your friends, hoping you can shake off the feeling he left you with.

·········

The only thing getting you through your shift the next day is that tomorrow is a holiday. The night of the Fourth of July is an escape from the stresses of your life, an excuse to get wasted with your friends under the fireworks and let yourself drift off into oblivion.

After you clock out, you’re pacing through the country club’s bar when you hear your name called from the patio. You look to see Porter sitting at a table with a couple of friends, his smile wide.

“Didn’t know you worked here,” he says when you approach.

“Yeah, I’m a server on the course,” you explain. You almost expect him to ignorantly ask for a drink, but have to remind yourself that he’s not like Rafe.

“How is it?”

“It’s fine.”

“Come on, we won’t tell,” Porter chuckles. “You hate it, don’t you?”

“Only sometimes,” you reply with a laugh. “Depends on the day. And on the person I’m dealing with.”

“Fair enough,” he says. He pulls out his phone, punching in the password. “I meant to tell you last night that you should have my number. You know, for when you need to stock up.”

You take his phone, cluing in that he’s making himself more accessible to you for the next time you need to buy from him. As you text yourself his name, one of the men at the table motions to Porter.

“Bro,” his friend says, gaze trained ahead. Porter looks past you to the bar and shakes his head in disbelief.

“Can’t escape him,” he sighs.

You follow his eyeline to spot Rafe at the bar with a friend, dark liquor sitting in the glass he’s holding.

“Not a fan?” you ask.

“Is anyone?” Porter laughs. “He’s a nutcase.”

“Don’t let him hear you,” his friend murmurs.

“Yeah, he’ll kill you,” the other guy laughs.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Porter replies.

Your eyes linger on Rafe a second longer than they need to. Your curiosity for why he’s the way he is is like a flame that won’t burn out. He has everything he could possibly want. Why is he so mean?

“Yeah,” is all you can say. You turn around again and give Porter his phone back.

“Oh, there’s a party at my beach house tomorrow night. My neighbor does this crazy fireworks thing every year,” he tells you. “I’ll text you the address.”

You nod appreciatively, glad that at least some of the rich people you deal with don’t buy into the idea that you’re beneath them.

·········

It’s nearing nine p.m. when you make it to the beach house the next night. The guys are rambling on behind you as you step inside the massive, humid house, filled with chattering people and loud music.

“Where are your car keys?” Pope asks.

“Right here,” JJ says, jingling them in front of his face. “Do I need to show you every five minutes?”

“I’ll just take them,” Pope says, grabbing them and stuffing them in his pocket. “You can’t be trusted.”

“It was one time,” JJ says. You laugh as you think of last weekend when he’d lost his car keys at a party in the Cut.

“Yeah, and we had to search the sand for, like half an hour,” you remind him.

“You know what I’m not hearing?” JJ says. “A thank you for driving all the time.”

“Remind me, who actually drove last time?” John B asks. “And who was hurling in the backseat?”

JJ scratches the back of his neck.

“I’m a man of honor,” he says. “I’m not not going to chug when I’m told to chug.” His eyes fix on something across the room. “Speaking of…”

He heads towards the keg and you and Pope share a disapproving shake of your heads. You follow your friends, grabbing a solo cup and sipping on beer.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes with a text from Porter: You here? Want to buy?

You’ve already smoked through the joint you bought two nights ago and quickly reply: yes.

He texts: come upstairs.

“I’ll be right back,” you quickly tell your friends before you push through the crowd.

You duck under the string tied across the bottom of staircase, a sign that warns partygoers that it’s off limits hanging in the middle. One door is open in the upstairs hallway. You see Porter sitting on a bed, rolling a joint on a book that’s sitting in his lap.

“Hey. Got a fresh one for you,” he says.

“Thanks.” You dig into your pocket. “Same price?”

“Sure.” He cocks his head. “It’ll take a while. You can come in and chill.”

You sit at his desk close to the door, talking as he packs the thin white paper.

When he stands up, instead of giving the joint to you, he darts across the room abruptly. Your brows knit in confusion when he shuts the door, the loud music reduced to muffles now.

“What are you doing?” you ask, fear twisting your heart in a vise.

He must have read things wrong.

You assume he’ll stop when you tell him no.

He doesn’t.

·········

You fall to the hard floor. You grip the edge of the bed, hardly any light spilling into the room from the hallway as you blink rapidly to gain your bearings.

A loud slam was what woke you up. You don’t remember falling asleep. You don’t even know where you are.

Two shadowy figures stand on the other side of the room. One roughly pushes the other to the floor. You stay still, peeking over the bed. Your body is trembling with pain and you don’t know why.

“Do you think I’m joking?” a man spits.

You know that voice. It’s Rafe.

“Dude, relax,“ the man on the floor says.

You might be sick. It’s Porter on the floor, whimpering like an idiot. You remember why your body is aching now.

He hurt you. He hurt you and you retreated into your mind and you fell unconscious. A cold swirl of anger and disgust and sadness twists your stomach into a knot.

“I told you to stay out of my fucking way,” Rafe shouts. “Where’s your stash?”

“In the desk,” Porter says quietly. “Just take it. I’ll stick to selling weed, okay? You have my word.”

You watch from the floor, Rafe’s broad figure leaning to pull open drawers and shove items off the desk, objects clattering on the floor in the dark. They don’t know you’re here.

Consciousness slowly grips you. Rafe confronted him about selling coke. He told him to stop. And Porter didn’t listen.

Your eyes flood with hot tears. He didn’t listen to you, either.

You just want to leave. To get out of this horrifying room. To figure out how to put yourself back together after surviving one of the worst ways a person can break another.

Loud fireworks abruptly crack in the sky, startling you, shining light in through the window. And that’s when you see it. Porter is by the other side of the bed, still on the floor, and in his raised hand, something is gleaming.

A gun.

“Rafe!” Your throat is dry, sore from the way you’d screamed.

He suddenly turns towards you, confusedly finding your face across the room. Then, his gaze snaps down at Porter. He notices the gun. And he lunges.

You stand on shaky knees as you watch Rafe land vicious punches, every blow making Porter groan.

“Gonna pull a gun when my back is turned, pussy?” Rafe bellows. “Really?”

You round the bed, staring in horror, your mind still in fragmented shambles. You’d told Porter to stop so many times and every strike of Rafe’s knuckles against his jaw gives you a jolt of satisfaction, a desire for him to suffer more.

He was never a nice guy. He’s just like all of them. A predator.

Rafe scrambles to his feet, heavily breathing as fireworks continue their pops and sizzles over the beach.

The gun is in his hand now. His heart is thrumming, his blood boiling hot. He could’ve died. If you didn’t call his name, he could’ve lost his life.

Rafe’s steady and firm, holding the weapon still, a sharp contrast to how hard you’re shaking.

“Do it,” you say. Rafe’s eyes finds yours, his lips parted, blood splattered on his face. It’s not his. Porter didn’t land any punches. Rafe beat him that badly.

“What?” Porter cries. “Are you insane?”

He’s staring up at both of you through wide eyes as the barrel of the gun remains directed at him. You imagine how terrifying you must look to him, standing over him in the dim room with his pathetic life in your hands.

“Me?” you mutter. Hatred courses through your veins when you glare at him as he lies on his side, bloodied and weak.

The power has shifted into your hands. He was the one looking down at you earlier, hurting you. And now that your body is yours again, you don’t hesitate to kick him in the stomach.

He grunts when you make contact, his body curling forward.

Rafe watches, rendered speechless. He thought he’d seen you angry before. He hasn’t. This is new. This is pure rage. This is a level of wrath he didn’t know you were capable of.

Even through the darkness, Rafe can see that your eyes are shiny with tears when you turn your head to look at him again.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?” you snap, your words dripping with agony and rage. “If you don’t do it, I will.”

Rafe is powerless against the angry, malevolent instinct that’s guided him all his life. He doesn’t think.

The blow of the gun cuts through the air.

Your breath catches.

And he’s just a body. Lifeless on the floor. Gone.

You look up at Rafe. Your chests are heaving, broken and shaky breaths spilling out of your mouths. The colors lighting up the night sky tint your tear-streaked face. He’s never seen agony personified. He has now.

You glance down at Porter again. His mouth is agape. His eyes are shut. Forever. Forever.

“Oh, my God,” you whimper. Hot tears fall over your cheeks so quickly that you fear they’ll never stop. The adrenaline escapes you like water spinning down a drain, replaced with a bottomless dread.

Rafe realizes he’s still pointing the gun. He lowers his arm, his palm sweating against the grip. He had to do it. He had to. He didn’t know that taking a life would feel this good. He doesn’t feel a shred of regret or remorse. For once, he has real power.

But then he watches the way you sink down to the floor.

“What did we…” you whisper, words rushed. “What did we do? Rafe, what did we do?”

There’s a dead body next to you. Cold permeates your bones. You know it’s the type of chill that will never leave you.

Rafe kneels in front of you. The gun hits the floor with a heavy thump. The air smells like gunpowder, fried and smoking. He’s trying to meet your eyes, but your gaze is skittering around as you sit, crumpled and trembling.

“Hey,” he says clearly.

You’re staring at the ground, your breaths shallow.

“Hey,” he repeats louder. Finally, you look at him. “It was self-defense.”

You nod weakly, processing how within a second, you’ve tangled yourselves together into a knot that you can never unravel. Rafe pulled the trigger, but you told him to. And you’re sure you would’ve done it yourself if Rafe didn’t. You’re murderers.

Rafe’s hand is an inch away from you, almost putting it on yours, almost touching someone with tenderness instead of anger for once. You saved his life. You loathe him, but you saved his life, reacting in a split second.

“Why were you even up here?” he asks.

“Just be glad I was,” you say, hoping it’s enough to satisfy him.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he mumbles. “Thank you.”

If you weren’t so shellshocked, you’d laugh. You never expected Rafe to have manners, and you never expected that if he did, it’d be a show of gratitude for helping him kill somebody.

Nausea pools in your gut at the reminder of why you were so angry. Did Porter plan it? Did he always have his sights set on you, like a vulture circling the sky, ready to attack?

What happened earlier tonight flashes through your mind. He deserved to die. He did something unforgivable. He said things about how girls always do this, they always tease but never give it up.

You didn’t just save Rafe. You saved all the girls who were fated to cross that monster’s path. You pushed a soul to its death, but it was one not worthy of life.

Rafe stares at you as you blink rapidly, your mind clearly racing.

“He rip you off or something?” he asks, at a loss for why you’d encourage him to pull the trigger.

Of course Rafe thinks it’s about money. That’s all that matters to him.

“Yeah,” you lie, voice cracking. You can’t tell him. You can’t relive it. Especially with someone who you know is cold-blooded. Someone who might blame you for coming up to this bedroom in the first place.

Tease. Porter called you a tease while you pleaded for him to stop. You drop your head in your hands, chest stuttering with your breathy cries, remembering how he’d hurt you.

Rafe stares at you, confused, wondering how you could be so angry and vengeful and ruthless, just to regret it a second after the bullet left the chamber.

“We had to do it,” he states.

“I know,” you tell him. You wipe your cheeks with your palms, well aware that he could never understand why you’re really crying. “We’ll just tell the truth.”

He shakes his head at you.

“Tell who the truth?” Rafe mutters, his stare hard. “We’re not telling anybody.”

Your breath shakes. He wants to hide this. To try to get away with it.

“What if someone heard the gunshot?” you murmur.

“Everyone’s outside,” he says. “And those stupid fireworks are so fucking loud. Nobody could tell the difference.”

You wipe your face again, considering his words. Your phone is buzzing in your pocket. Someone’s calling you. Surely one of your friends. Why didn’t you just tell them where you were going? Why didn’t you just have one of them come upstairs with you?

Impatience quickly rises in Rafe while you stay silent.

“I almost knocked him out the other night,” he says. “In front of everyone. You think backing me up would be enough for anyone to believe I was protecting myself?”

You chew on your bottom lip anxiously. Rafe has a reputation for being violent. Porter put up a front that he was a nice guy. His friends even said right in front of you that Rafe would kill him. Who’d believe that Porter actually pointed a gun first?

Besides, if you vouched for him, who’s to say they’d trust you? They could spin it and say Rafe paid off a Pogue to lie for him.

“And then the cops would dig and find out it was over coke,” Rafe sputters. “It’d be a fucking mess. We’re not telling anybody.”

He’s right. Confessing wouldn’t do you any good, either. It could go sideways and you could never afford a good lawyer.

Nobody deserves to be punished for taking down the evil, lifeless man lying on the floor. Not you. Not even Rafe. You won’t take the risk.

You gaze into Rafe’s eyes, finding comfort in the striking blue hue for the first time, feeling a newfound sense of loyalty to him.

He gave you vengeance in a world that would never punish the man who hurt you. You’re in this together.

“Okay,” you whisper. “What do we do now?”

“We get rid of the body.”

next >

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[stuckinmymind22]

wise words | ace x gn!reader

and then it hit you - "you're in love with me"

wc: 1,127

tags: its just a bunch of fluff

series: "you're in love with me"

a/n: ik i said i'd post this tomorrow but i got too excited. this one ended up being much longer than i initially intended it to ngl i really like this one, it might be my favorite so far (both in the series and in general)

"ace," the whitebeard had said, making eye contact. the usage of his name told ace that whatever he had been about to say would be serious. "you are in love." pops had decided to have mercy on the boy, leaving ace alone to sit with what he had said, only slightly struggling to stand his nurses running after him. ace had been left frozen as he processed pop's words. it had felt like pieces falling into place and the world felt clearer. holy shit, he did love you

mostly proofread

ace had been treating you differently lately, that difference became starkly apparent when compared to how he acts with the rest of the crew. ace was known for being affectionate, both verbally and physically, especially when he gets a few drinks in him, but the way he acted around marco for example paled in comparison to the way that he would hang onto you.

ever since you returned from a mission just over a week ago he had barely left your side - that's not to say that you minded it, you had always had a bit of a thing for him and now you were starting to suspect he felt the same.

recently, you had discovered how he has been going out of his way to be around you. someone spilt the beans on how he has been taking over tasks assigned to other members just so he could be near you.

and here he was, high up on a mast helping you repair the edge of a sail that was damaged in a recent storm. a task that in all honesty was beneath him. a task you knew he hated, you remembered how he would complain about it.

ace kept poking his head around the side of the sail to talk to you, his eyes sparkled as you joked around and you found yourself getting lost in them. the two of you weren't exactly on task, you should've been done with this by now but no one has said anything and you weren't about to complain. you were basking in his warm company while trying to sus out how into you he was. the gears were turning then it hit you.

"holy shit," you say causing his head to snap to you in concern. you couldn't help but vocalize your revelation, "you're in love with me."

immediately, his playful smile fell as his face dropped, eyes going wide. out of all of the things he thought you might say, that was not even an option. still, he made no move to deny it

ace himself had only just realized the way he felt about you when pops, of all people, had called him out on it.

it all had happened after a banquet thrown in celebration of your return. you (along with several others) had just returned to the moby dick after a voyage to one of the islands under whitebeard's protection. the party had been dwindling down and you'd been making the rounds, and he'd been completely unable to keep his eyes off you, even when talking to pops his eyes consistently flickered over to you.

a small chuckle coming from pops was the thing that had pulled him away from you. "you're in deep, my son," the man said full of mirth. he had laughed even more at ace's confused face, "my boy, you are completely smitten."

"w-what do you mean?" ace had stuttered. his bright red face should have betrayed his look of confusion, but the puzzlement had been genuine.

"you haven't been able to take your eyes off of them since they returned. you struggled to even before they left," a light joyful laughter had broken whitebeard's speech, "haven't you noticed how you always gravitate towards them? don't you feel lighter when they are around?"

answering honestly ace had skeptically nodded to the line of questioning. the legendary pirate shook his head with a smile, muttering something about kids.

"ace," the old man had said, making eye contact. the usage of his name told ace that whatever he had been about to say would be serious. "you are in love."

pops had decided to have mercy on the boy, leaving ace alone to sit with what he had said, only slightly struggling to stand his nurses running after him.

ace had been left frozen as he processed pop's words. it had felt like pieces falling into place and the world felt clearer. holy shit, he did love you.

ace had stood in place for an undetermined amount of time, stewing in the realization. it had been marco who snapped ace out of his daze. after minor amounts of prodding, ace had confided in the doctor what pops said. to his surprise the first division commander had been relieved, telling ace that everyone on the ship seemed to know how the two of you felt about each other except for you two.

he wanted to believe you felt the same way, but he didn't want to hold onto false hope, despite what marco had said ace couldn't believe that you felt the same way, but he also knew he had a duty to tell you.

at the moment ace had no plans to make his feelings known (he hadn’t quite come up with anything yet, it was still new to him) and the last thing he expected was that you would figure it out on your own. to say the least he was caught off guard.

"am- am i right?" doubt and excitement are mixed into your question.

his face, all the way to the tips of his ears alight, the boy who was quite literally made of fire was burning up. ace nodded, the move paralleling a child caught doing something that they shouldn't be. he couldn't bring himself to look you in the eyes, but that all changed when at the edge of his vision, he saw a large smile blossom on your face.

you were so excited you didn't know what to do. you started to resent the fact that he was just outside of your reach when all you wanted to do at the moment is kiss him.

"let's get down, we can finish this later," you proposed. ace agreed to your plan — with hesitation.

once both of your feet were firmly placed on the deck, you grabbed him by the necklace and he stumbled into your lips. ace was startled by your actions at first but he was quick to melt into the kiss. you dropped his necklace to hook your arms over his shoulders. his hands moved to frame your face, pulling you closer to him, deepening the kiss.

the wolf whistles in the background all faded until they felt worlds away, as if all that existed in that moment was the two of you. reluctantly, the kiss was broken when the need for oxygen started to outweigh the need for each other's lips.

ace rested his forehead against yours as the two of you struggled to catch your breath. he couldn't help the massive smile that formed on his face - this went way better than he ever could have imagined.

masterlist | damn, that shit was so cute, patting myself on the back fr

[threalcrabbysamantha]

Ember Island locals know that time on the island doesn’t follow the rules of the rest of the world. It’s not slower, exactly, and it’s certainly not constant, a fickle thing that strikes the island’s inhabitants at odd moments. You’ll look up one day and realize time has stretched itself like some sort of impossible acrobat, or shrunk itself down, compressing years into seconds.

The first time Zuko realizes he’s succumbed to Ember Island time is the third time Katara falls asleep in his room.

It’s not intentional, obviously, or not those first three times anyway. But after that disaster that tried to pass itself off as a play, she’d knocked, timidly, at his door and asked to talk, which surprised him as much as it relieved him. At the time he assumed she’d done the same with everyone else - but the next morning she wasn’t speaking to the Avatar except in short clips, and like usual Zuko felt like he’d missed something.

The scent of her lingered in his rooms for days afterward.

The other two times, she’d found him in his room after dinner, and for reasons that evaded him, stayed until the moon was high in the sky as she faded into a slumber curled up on his bedroll.

The fourth time, Zuko stays, curled into her, content to let his arm fall asleep under the weight of her head.

What she wants from him he couldn’t begin to discern, but he’s observed Katara long enough to understand she does nothing by halves. When she was angry with him, her fury was an unrelenting storm, and now her forgiveness crashes over him like a wave. She’s not content to just forgive; she demands more, slots herself in next to him like they’ve always been friends, grabbing his hand, teasing him, running her fingers through his hair. This is how she is; it’s no different than the way she acts with Sokka or Suki or Toph or Aang, he tells himself.

He has to tell himself, to barricade his heart against the way it speeds up whenever she enters a room.

Of all the dumb things he’s done in his life, falling for Katara is the dumbest by far because it’s a fleeting dream that exists only in the confines of his room, where she takes her hair down and her faces relaxes into the girl she might be if there had never been a war at all. If his family wasn’t a scourge on the earth. And there it is, the thing that keeps him from pressing fully into her, much as she has started to stare wistfully at his mouth: how can this be where it all ends? After every bad thing he’s done, how can he think this is anything but a test?

What is the cost of redemption? The voice in his head - the one that sounds like Uncle - scoffs at the very idea. But Zuko made his peace with his role in things the moment he left the palace. He knew, coming here, that he would serve the Avatar at all cost to his own comfort, however it had to happen - as ally or prisoner. It can’t be now that he really has friends. Certainly, the other shoe will drop - they’ll uncover some other awful thing that he’s done, and Sokka will stop joking with him, and Toph will stop demanding a spar, and Katara…

Katara will look at him the way she did after he sided with Azula, and it will be what he deserves.

This is his role, and he will play it as best he can.

Next to him, Katara sighs softly, shifting deeper into him. He stills, lest he wake her, and she makes an embarrassed, rush exit, never to return.

But she does blink awake, eyes blurry, and she doesn’t rush out. Instead, she stares up at him as she traces her thumb along the very edge of his scar.

“It’s strange,” she murmurs. “Sometimes, in here, I forget…I forget we have to make sure the world doesn’t end.”

Zuko licks his lips - don’t say it - and asks, “Is that why you keep coming back?”

She hums at that, more fully cupping his cheek, her own tinting red. “No, I - I guess I…missed you.”

“You…missed me. When?”

“Always,” she confesses. It catches in her throat around her embarrassment. “I think I’ve…been missing you, for a while.”

He bumps his forehead against hers gently. “Why me? I don’t deserve that.”

She frowns, pulling away, a big crease between her eyebrows. He thinks she might chastise him or argue but instead she just leans in closer, burrowing herself, and mutters into his shoulder, “Well. I do.”

Maybe he’ll pay the cost later, Zuko thinks, wrapping his arms fully around her - but then maybe this is the cost, giving himself wholly over, thrusting the fate of his heart into someone else’s hands.

He closes his eyes and surrenders himself to Ember Island time.

[mochinomnoms]

Two's Company, Three's a Crowd, and Six is a Riot

iii. Royal consort to the wild usurper

[wc} - 6,261

[notes] - idk how i feel about Leona in this but it is what it is so that's what's happening! I was trying to balance this with a bit of mild angst but also make sure that the romance part was still there? i think it worked for the most part though. also, very excited for the poll i have a bias for one option in particular...

tags: @rosieboop @aliasrising @alienlatteinspace @wishicouldart @cottage-clockwork

edit: i notice I missed a few things regarding the ages and stuff so I fixed that. Also the timeline I realized isn't obvious, so here it is since it's more important here than in the others: Leona and Mousy have been together for 12 years, married for 6, acting as king regent and royal consort for 8 months but officially crowned 3 months ago. I hope that makes sense looool (as me more about this pls I worked hard on it....)

make a choice at the end...

back to chapter list

iii. royal consort to the wild usurper

Listen to: “Like Real People Do” by Hozier

The heat of the savannah that the dorm’s magic replicated reminded Grim of the trip he and (Name) took to the Cloudcalling Festival though considering the dorm’s patron Seventh, it made sense.

It wasn’t quite as colorful though, everything in Savanaclaw was in muted browns, yellows, and orange. It was just as hot though, something Grim detested with his fur. At least they had the pool in the lounge, though it was quiet. 

Grim looked around with confusion, sniffing at the air for your—or Mousy’s—scent. It wasn’t too far off from what you usually smelled like, but Mousy had an underlying scent of rain, like where’d they’d just been had a storm growing.

He’d come to learn that the weather of the dorms remained the same year round, no matter the weather on Sage Island, so it wasn’t hard to pinpoint your scent. 

Grim followed after it, still put off by the lack of activity. To be honest, the dorm was running the same as it usually would, nothing was out of the ordinary. Which is exactly what was throwing Grim off! Sure, Heartslaybul is always a bit more lively with Ace and Deuce, and Riddle did throw an unbirthday party last minute, but Grim expected that Savanaclaw would do something for Mousy. 

They revered their dormleader as much as the other dorms did, even if he was a slothful lion, so why wasn’t anyone freaking out about their partner?

Did Leona keep it quiet? Was he hiding you somewhere? Grim couldn’t have that, you’re his henchhuman no matter what timeline. Disrespect on you was disrespect on him! And why can’t he find you?!

“Mmm…where’d they go? They did come back to the dorm…right?” Grim huffed, padding around as he wandered the halls, the scent of rain coming closer as he approached a familiar door.

Leona’s room. It was closed, though Grim could hear shuffling behind the door, which was enough reason for him to slam it open and point into the room with rightful fury.

“HENCHHUMAN—”

“GAAAH! GRIM!”

Ruggie let out a high-pitched shriek as he clutched the laundry basket in his hands to his chest like a shield. Upon realizing that it was just Grim, he relaxed, ears flattening against his head as he scowled at the direbeast.

“Dammit Grim, what’s your deal? Don’t you know how to knock?” Ruggie grumbled as he threw a brightly patterned cloth into the basket, one that smelled like you mixed with rain. “You know I won’t cover for you if you damage something of Leona’s, I ain’t getting stuck with that bill.”

Grim let out a soft mewl, surprising both himself and Ruggie, as he zeroed in on the patterned cloth that was on top of the laundry pile. It was the cloth you had wrapped around you earlier, gold and black striped as it fell off your shoulders and held together by a dark orange and deep rich brown striped wrap and beads at your waist. 

Now that he really thought about it, it looked a lot like the clothes everyone had been wearing when you two visited the Sunset Savannah.

“Hey wait! That smells like my henchhuman! Why’d they take it off? I thought they’d be here…”

Ruggie let out a sound of realization as he looked between the cloth and Grim, bringing it up to sniff it closer.

“Oooh, (Name), that explains why this shuka smells so different. Though, it’s waaay too nice for someone like them to have lying around, where’d they get it from, Grim?”

“Hmm? Didn’t Leona tell the dorm about this morning?” Grim questioned, walking forward and reaching for the cloth—a shuka Ruggie called it—to smell it again. Maybe with a closer sniff Grim would be able to locate you. “Give it, I was followin’ Mousy’s scent, I need a refresher!”

Ruggie obliged, though he raised a brow and flicked his left ear curiously at Grim. 

“Leona hasn’t told any of us ‘bout anything. Heard there was some sort of explosion, ‘n who’s ‘Mousy’?”

Soft footsteps and a gentle knock on the doorframe caught both Grim and Ruggie’s attention, the former perking up at the sight of you at the doorway.

Even without the vibrant patterned cloth and emblem, it didn’t take away from the rest of your outfit. 

Your top was black and sleeveless, no doubt to accommodate the heat of your home, with a high neck and a thick band tied at the back of your neck. The shirt was tucked into your black pants, which looked thinner and flared at the ends, and it was covered in a gold geometric pattern that shimmered each time you moved. 

Simple, like Tart’s was, but it looked much more expensive, even the wide band sandals you wore looked like they were expensive leather, and the various bands and beads around your wrists and neck looked a lot like Leona’s jewelry. 

When you uncrossed your arms, Grim noticed a tattoo on your left (rather muscular) arm. A lion, like Leona’s, though it was a bit less extravagant and didn’t wrap around. 

“W-wha…(Name)?” Ruggie gaped at you, looking you up and down as you approached, making him clutch the basket to his chest and back up slightly. “Why are you dressed like a royal? ‘N you smell different too…”

The hyena opened his mouth again for a moment, before shutting it and scrutinizing you further. 

Grim could barely make the words out from under Ruggie’s breath, as his ears flicked while you let you a wry chuckle. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think he’d tell anyone, Leona’s never been one to share. Accident with a looking glass and time travel things this morning is all.” Your eyes and dry smile softened as you noticed Ruggie’s tense posture, gesturing for the basket. 

“He’s hiding from me in one of the nooks around here. Thought I’d give him some alone time, you want me to help with that?”

Ruggie’s ears perked up, his tail slightly wagging as he thought it over. 

“I mean, as long as I still get paid for the laundry…I won’t say no. I still gotta make Leona’s lunch.”

You smiled, taking the basket from Ruggie’s hands as you stared at him for a moment, making him freeze. Surprising both him and Grim, you reached up to ruffle his hair and cooed at Ruggie. 

“Sorry, it’s just been a while since I’ve seen ya, you’ve been busy with work back in my time.” Letting out a tired sigh, you pulled away to rub the back of your neck. “We’ve all had a hectic time, actually.”

Ruggie nodded, eyes lighting up in sudden understanding as he looked down at your clothes once again. He winced, making Grim tilt his head, still confused as he heard him mumble something under his breath. 

“Yikes, no wonder he’s hidin’. Okay, yeah. I’ll get the lunch started, I already had the detergent ready to go. Though, this is your shuka right?” He gestured to your clothes on the top of the pile. “That has to be hand washed you know?”

You waved him off, finally glancing down at Grim with soft eyes. 

“No worries, Grim here will help me. I’m sure we have a lot to talk about, huh?”

Grim pouted, his ears flattening as he whined, “I don’t wanna do chores though…”

“Ruggie will make you a sandwich too.”

“OKAY!”

“What?” Ruggie exclaimed, halfway out the door as he spun on his heel and glared between the two of you. “I ain’t doing extra work—”

“I will have Leona pay you triple for your work today.”

“—without getting your food order!” A big grin on his face, Ruggie got down on his knees and titled his head at Grim. “What kinda sandwich you want? Want a drink and side with that?”

“Tuna! Fancy tuna with fried pickles! And, um…” Grim looked up at you and tugged at your pants. “What’s that drink Ace always gets us at lunch?”

You hummed to yourself, thinking until you snapped your fingers. 

“Ah! The iced sweet tea. Can you get him that Ruggie?”

Ruggie nodded and gave you two a salute, walking off as he happily hummed a tune to himself, singing “gonna get paaaaaid~” as he did. 

You let out a chuckle looking at Grim from the corner of your eyes and nodded your head to the door. 

“Come on, let’s go. The faster we finish, the faster we can go to Ruggie and make sure he doesn’t eat half of your sandwich.”

Leona was hiding behind the waterfall, where there was a warm resting nook that most of the dorm was unaware of. You knew about it though, you’d been there numerous times towards the end of Leona’s third year. 

Still, he’d left to it right away, telling you to go drop off your shuka in his room to have Ruggie wash it. Grim’s spell had summoned you during a walk in the palace gardens with Leona and Cheka at the time, the pain from the cracks on your skin making you collapse into some of the foliage and mud as a terrified Cheka stared in horror. 

“Uncle! Nini? What’s happening?!”

The poor thing has already been through so much. As much as it was fun to see Leona young again, you were really hoping that Malleus would find you away home soon. 

It was nice to see Grim little again. 

“And I totally coulda beat Ace with my super duper great fire spell! But I went easy on him, so he got the higher grade.”

Grim was yapping your ear off as you hung the damp clothes on the clothesline, rubbing your clothing between your thumb and finger.

“Yeah? Which class was this again?”

“Umm, it was…Magical Dueling! Yup!” Grim put his paws on his hips and let out a confident chuckle. “Yeah, the Great Grim is a real mer-mercial?”

“Merciful.”

“Yeah! That!”

“Right. Grim, you do remember that we take all our classes together, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So you know that I know that we don’t have a Magical Dueling class, right?” 

Grim paused, squinting his eyes as you cocked your hip and tilted your head in amusement, waiting for his excuse.

“...We take it during our second year?”

You laughed, reaching down to pat Grim on the head, who gave you a displeased look. Still, he gave a small smile as you two walked back into the dorm. It was hot and windy, so it wouldn’t be long until the clothes were dried. 

Plus, it’d been about an hour since Ruggie left to make the sandwiches, which meant he should be done cooking by now, and Grim’s stomach had been rumbling for the past few minutes.

“Let’s just go eat. I’m sure Ruggie has your sandwich done by now.”

The dorm was still empty of most students, though you could hear someone walking on the wooden ramps and bridges every so often. It made sense, it was still the early afternoon and most students were in class.

Part of you wished that you could see Jack again, but he definitely was in class at this time, and wouldn’t be back for a while if you remember correctly. You kinda wanted to drop at Heartslabyul and see Ace and Deuce, but you didn’t want to add to the chaos with Tart already there. 

Epel and Ortho were also probably preoccupied with your other Yous at their dorms. Sebek was out of the question, he was stricter about his schedule than Jack. 

You just wanted to talk to someone else, you wanted to talk to your husband. At this point in time, you two were never far from each other, or for long. But the Leona of this time didn’t seem keen on talking, or even looking at you. 

He absolutely recognized your clothes and what they meant. 

“Maybe I’ll take his meal to him…get him to talk to me…” You mumbled under your breath, making Grim look up at you.

“Get who to talk to ya? Ruggie?”

“No, Leona.”

“Mmmrph?” Grim trilled at you, narrowing his eyes as the flames in his ears grew brighter. “Leona? What, he’s not talkin’ to ya?”

You shook your head as you both entered the kitchen, where Ruggie was finishing cleaning up and placing a cutting board and knife into the sink. 

“Oh, hey! The food’s done—”

“Well that’s rude!”

Both of you jumped at Grim’s cry, an angry pout on his face as he hopped onto the counter.

“If Leona’s not gonna talk to you, then he shouldn’t get food!” Grim’s pout suddenly turned into a sly grin as he eyed the steak sandwich on the counter, next to his own. “Which is why I should take it! Give it here!”

Right as Grim leaped for the tempting plate of food, Ruggie quickly swiped it and held it over his head, making Grim dive face first into the counter instead. 

“Hey!” Ruggie let out a growl as Grim returned one in annoyance, now jumping up in vain for the food. “I used his card to buy all this! I ain’t gonna lose access to it just because you ate his food, eat your sandwich instead!” 

Noticing at how Grim got on all four paws and wiggled, you rushed over to snatch him midair as he jumped right for Ruggie’s face, the latter stumbling back. Miraculously, he still managed to keep the sandwich on its plate. 

“Hey! Let me have it, Mousy! He doesn’t deserve it! He doesn’t want to hang out with you so he doesn’t deserve a yummy snack! GIVE MEEEE—”

You wrapped a hand around Grim’s snout, his demands for more food muffled as he still longingly reached his paws out for Ruggie as he cautiously lowered the plate back down. 

“Geez, what are you on about?” Ruggie huffed, wrinkling his nose at Grim as he asked, “Leona didn’t just leave you here, right?”

It wasn’t often couples in the Sunset Savannah stray from one another, much less royals, they were almost always seen with one another. Granted, this time’s version of Leona wasn’t technically yours, and you not his, you were reminded each time you tugged at one bracelet in particular among the many around your wrist. 

“...I think you can understand why he might not be particularly enthusiastic to see me.”

You gave Ruggie a dry, tired smile as you gestured at your outfit again, making him flush red and nodded, muttering to himself. 

“Right, right…Well, you know where he is right? I need to deliver his food before it gets cold, is he in his usual spots?”

You doubted that Leona wanted to be bothered by anyone right now, but you were a bit tired of waiting around for him to come out hiding.

“No, you won’t be able to find him. It’s a spot that only he and I know about, so far as I’m aware.” Ruggie’s ears drooped as huffed, murmuring something about getting paid, making you chuckle. “I can take it to him for you.”

Ruggie squinted at you, eyeing Grim as he was dropped to the ground, the latter crossing his arms and stomping his feet.

“No fair…”

Rolling your eyes with an amused smirk, you bent down and gestured for Grim to come closer as you whispered in his ear. After a minute, Grim perked up and stared at you with an open-mouth. 

“Really?”

“Really. Go on, Azul will be very weak against his ‘Angelfish’, so he’ll get you whatever you want if Angel asks for it.”

Grim eagerly nodded, reaching his arms out for his sandwich as you handed it to him. Shoving most of it into his mouth, Grim ran off as Ruggie titled his head at you in a curious confusion.

“What’d you tell him?”

“A secret, don’t worry about it.” You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. “Let me go get my shuka back on and then take his lunch. Grim does have a point, Leona can’t avoid me forever.”

The furball was always loud and annoying, but Leona dealt with him because of you. He let you bring him around because the stupid little guy made you happy, and he liked you.

He liked you a lot. Leona might even bring it in himself to admit that he’s fond of you, fancies you even. He’d been momentarily delighted when his little ‘mouse’ popped up in the classroom, you’d grown into a pretty thing with his family’s crest plastered on your chest.

And by the ancient kings themselves, you grew to be utterly breathtaking, the circlet on your head wrapped in the braids on the crown of your head decorated with dangling charms that glittered each time you moved, while the rest of your hair flowed down just under your chin. 

Then he looked closer at the eerily familiar circlet, and down your body. The clothes you were in were nearly all black, and you wore his sister-in-law, Niah’s, necklace. Big, beautiful, and intricately beaded to hold the Kingscholar crest, he knew you shouldn’t have been wearing that. 

It belonged to the queen consort. You shouldn’t have been wearing that unless Leona became King. It clicked quickly for him, then, when you’d made eye-contact back in that classroom. You looked older than the others there, and your eyes spoke of sorrow.

You were in mourning clothes, and in your future, he’d finally become a king. At the expense of Falena and Niah’s lives. 

He didn’t even want to think about Cheka. Did something happen to him too? After all this time of loathing and self-hatred, of cursing those who looked down on him for being second-born, he got what he wanted.

Did he want that? Did he want his family dead? Did he want to never see Falena, Niah, or Cheka again?

In the future that his Mousy came from, did he do something to them?

If his mother were here, she’d be pulling at his ear, reprimanding him for abandoning his mate to sulk off in his ‘hidey-hole’ like she would say. She’d always been by his father’s side growing up, like bonded mates were meant to do, up to the point of her untimely death. His father followed soon after.

He was still young when she passed, but he could still hear her voice, chastising him and urging him to go seek you out.

And he would…eventually. He wasn’t a coward, Leona’s pride wouldn’t allow that, but he just needed some time to think. To figure out how to ask you what happened, if he did something. Would you even know? Would you even tell him if he asked?

“Ugh…damn you Furball.” Leona grumbled to himself, tossing and turning in the blankets and pillows he stashed behind the waterfall. “You shouldn’t have been messing with ancient magic.”

There was a naturally formed window in the rock that let in fresh air as the sound of the falls and the occasional student walking past gave him some white noise, and yet he still felt stuffy.

It didn’t help that he could still hear Grim occasionally, your own voice just gentle enough to be out of hearing range. Leona’s pretty sure he was yelling something about sandwiches to Ruggie. 

Whiny as ever, and a little shit like always. As much as your presence has thrown him into a mental spiral, Leona does wonder if the little guy followed you to Sunset Savannah with him. And how exactly you convinced him to agree to housing Grim.

Maybe you turned him into a playmate for Cheka or something. 

Leona inhaled sharply at the thought of his nephew again, turning back around to face the waterfall. He froze at the sight of you, peering at the gap between the water and the stone wall, holding a plate of food in your hand. 

You carefully reached above you to grab the indent along the wall, and slid your body through, carefully pressed against the ledge as you stared down at the pool below you. You did it with precision, like you’d done this many times before, over and over. 

Until your foot slipped on a part of the rock that was wet, making you stumble and Leona bolt over. He didn’t even register that he was holding your waist and the hand that clutched at his shoulder until you huffed and looked up at him with a sheepish smile. 

“Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve done this, I forgot how slippery it got back here.”

Your scent was one of rosemary and rain, though he could tell that you spent a lot of time with his future version. You reeked of his magic and musk, though there was something soft there, like sweet oranges, that reminded him of Cheka.

Leona swiftly let go of you once you were on steady footing, backing up and putting a healthy distance between you two. Though, the disappointment on your face made him falter as he sat down on his makeshift bedding. 

Both of you stared at each other, neither of you speaking, waiting for the other to break the silence first. 

If Leona was going to give future him credit for something, it’s that he did a damn good job in claiming you as his. The jewelry you were covered in was in his colors. Falena was assigned gold and red as the heir, which was traditional. Leona got a dark orange and sepia, also traditional for the second-born, but they were never his favorite. 

But they did look very nice on you. 

“Aw, staring at a little herbivore like me?” You gave Leona a teasing smile and walked closer, holding out the plate to him. It looked like a steak sandwich, the usual that Ruggie made for him. “Don’t eat me now, I’m offerin’ you a meal.”

Leona continued staring at you as he took the plate in your hands, his ears flicking and tail curling close to him as you decided to take a seat on the pillow next to him. He watched as you crossed your legs, resting your hands between them and traced one of the bracelets on your wrist. 

It looked old. It looked familiar. 

“You kept that?” You looked up in surprise. Leona was realizing it was the first actual sentence he’d spoken to you since you’d arrived. “It looks like it’s gone through it…”

“Ah,” You looked down at the bracelet, red, white, and blue with golden spacers between the beads. “Well, it’s been a long time since you gave this to me. I think…almost 12 years by now.”

You smiled down fondly at the jewelry as you continued.

“This one you gave me after your graduation,” You tapped a leather band with a protection spell engraved on it. “Said I needed it for all the trouble I got into.”

You moved onto another one made of braided strings that resembled a sunset. “This was for my graduation, same day you asked me if I wanted to come home with you”

Smile growing, you let out a soft chuckle as you pointed out a fourth, crudely made rainbow bracelet that looked more like something a kid would make for their friends on the playground. 

“Cheka made this, used any and every single bead he could find. It was my 20th birthday present I think. It's been a while, but that sounds right."

Voice softening, you moved to your left wrist, which was decorated with a pair of bronze bangles and a matching cuff with an engraving of a rising sun. 

“This wasn’t you actually, funny enough.” You had a smile and looked at him from the corner of your eye. “Falena and Niah gave it to me as an engagement present when you proposed with this—”

Holding up your hand, you presented him with a wedding set on your ring finger. A thick bronze band accompanied by a simple topaz ring.

“That’s not in the royal jewelry collection.” Leona cut you off, though you looked relieved that he finally started speaking. “Looks too new.”

“Yep. You had this made just for me, and a matching set for yourself as well.” 

Your smile faltered as his eyes were drawn back to the necklace, specifically the crest on your chest.

Both of you went silent again for a few seconds, before you sighed, clutching the crest in your palm, as if to hide it.

“Ask. I know you want to know.”

“...That’s in Falena’s colors. It’s Niah’s, it’s the queen’s.” Leona hissed the last bit, his ears flattening as he stared at your face, watching as you turned away. “Why is my spouse wearing the consort’s necklace?”

Leona’s voice rose as he continued speaking, making you whip your head around and glare at him. For some reason, that look you gave him made Leona freeze. It looked a lot like the ones Niah and his mother would give him whenever he got in trouble.

“Leona. Did you just raise your voice at me?”

Clicking his tongue, Leona leaned back against his pillows and took a bite out of his sandwich, ignoring your pointed look.

“Tch, at least I know where Cheka got his attitude from.”

Leona choked mid-swallow, coughing as reached over to pat his back, freezing as he grabbed your hand to stop you. Though, as his coughing became more hoarse, he let go to pound at chest, allowing you to use one hand to rub a soothing hand on his back and pull his hair away from his face.

It took him a few moments, but he finally managed to breathe normally again, throat feeling rather raw. Leona looked at you from the corner of his eyes and asked, “Cheka’s okay?”

You furrowed your brows and nodded furiously, moving closer to sweep his hair over his shoulder and cup his cheek.

“Yes. Of course, Cheka is safe. He’ll be turning 17 in a few months now…he’s safe and doing as well as he can be right now.”

Leona closed his eyes, trying to imagine what a 17 year old Cheka would look like. A lot like Falena probably, though he had Niah’s eyes. 

“...What do you mean by ‘right now’.”

His eyes met your own as you thinned your lips. You opened your mouth, before closing it again, and gently responded. 

“Leona, I think you know what I mean.”

Taking a deep breath, let his gaze meet yours and asked, “How’d it happen?”

You took in a sharp breath, leaning back and clasping your hands together. 

“Are you sure you want to know? I don’t think it’s a good idea with time traveling rules and all—”

“Yes. Tell me.”

Letting out a sigh, you nodded, swallowing and licking your lips before you spoke.

“It happened at the end of last year, Falena and Niah were meant to celebrate their anniversary at sea. They took a handful of servants onto a ship and had a private yacht set up. It was only meant to be a week, so you, me, and Neji were left in charge of regular duties while they were gone, but while out at sea…there was a storm.”

Leona watched as you paused, wringing your wrist in your hand. 

“It happened about halfway through their trip, it was a freak storm that even had the merfolk surprised. It took two weeks for it to finally calm down enough for us to send search parties, but they couldn’t find anything…”

You shut your eyes closed, bringing a tightly closed hand to your lips as you took a shaky breath, continuing in a trembling voice.

“We thought that they might have sunk, even the Atlantica Royal family sent their own to search for the wreckage…but they couldn’t find it.”

Whispering the last part under your breath, you took a deep breath, wiping the corners of your eyes, before looking up and frowning. 

“Oh, Leona, sweetheart…”

Bringing a hand up to wipe his cheek, Leona barely realized that tears started growing in his eyes. Despite himself, he relaxed into your touch, letting you rub your thumbs across his cheeks and squeeze, bringing him down to your level to press your forehead against his own. 

“...Both of them?”

“Yeah…we held the funerals a month after. And…you were crowned three months ago as king regent.”

Silence fell over you two, Leona looking down as he processed everything you’d just said. 

King Regent. Him, a king in his future, all because his brother died. Gods…he didn’t want his brother dead. Was Falena an idiot sometimes? Yes. Was he pampered and groomed while Leona was thrown off to the side and ignored? Yes. But he didn’t want his brother or sister-in-law gone, among the ancient kings in the stars.

“You became the royal consort then. That’s yours now.” 

You nodded, letting Leona go, reaching down to squeeze at the necklace again. You didn’t look comfortable with it on, like the weight was a strain on you. Leona looked down at the plate in his lap 

“Originally, my Leona and I were only going to rule for a few years, as Cheka was only 15, just about to turn 16 when it happened. But he didn’t want to take the throne just yet at 18, so the two of us will be taking care of things until he’s ready.”

Silence resumed between you two as you decided to lean against the wall, blankly staring at the waterfall. Both of you didn’t speak for what felt like ages. Leona looked down at the plate in his lap still, and tossed it to the side to shove himself into his pillows.

You let out a small gasp, giving him a disapproving glare as you crawled over pick up the plate, ensuring that the food wouldn’t fall to the floor. 

“Don’t do that, this meat is probably expensive, Rugs would probably have an aneurysm if he saw you throwing it around.”

“Hmph,” Leona scoffed, raising a brow at the nickname. “I can afford it, it’s fine. He doesn’t care as long as I pay him.”

“Yeah? Well that reminds me, make sure you pay him triple for today’s work, I told him you would so he would make Grim some food.”

“Eh? I didn’t agree to that, why would I pay for the Furball’s—” 

You waved a hand dismissively, though you had an amused smile on your lips. 

“Oh shush, I thought you said you could afford it?”

Gods, you really did grow to be beautiful. Leona never was one that particularly cared about looks like a certain blonde did, but even he could appreciate how well you took to his homeland’s style. He wonders if the future him helped you with your hair: grooming each other was an age old tradition for close families back home, he saw Niah often braid Falena’s hair. 

Even Cheka’s, though he was so little that they would get messed up after playing. 

Cheka…you smelled quite a bit like him as well, but it was a lot fainter than his own. Hypothetically, especially with the death of his parents, his nephew should be attached to future you and Leona’s hips.

“Oi, you said Cheka was going on 17, but he wasn’t going to take the throne at 18.” Leona’s ears flicked as he asked, “How come my brat—”

“Nephew.”

“—Brat of a nephew, isn’t taking the throne? I know he’d been groomed for it.”

You perked up, smile growing as you leaned in closer, gesturing for him to follow suit. He did, with a fond warmth growing in his cheeks. 

“Oh yes, but after all was said and done…he decided to accept the letter that Night Raven sent him and attend school. Cheka said he wanted to wait and explore the world outside the palace before taking the throne, so the two of us will be ruling for a bit longer now.”

Leona let out a scoff, though he couldn’t help that the corner of his lips quirked. “Seriously? NRC?”

You smiled and nodded. 

“Yes, our—” Leona liked the way you emphasized that. “—nephew even took to your dorm. You tried your very best to talk him out of it, complaining about your time here and how awful it was, he shut you up when he brought up the two of us meeting at school.”

Leona let out a hum, resting his hand on his palm as he leaned against his knee. He still had questions about the kingdom, if there were any opposition to his coronation, why Cheka decided to run off to the school of all places. 

But, he also had a golden opportunity here. 

“And what exactly did you tell him?” Leona watched as you perked up, your smile growing big as you leaned in and cooed. 

“Oh? Trying to get information out of me, hmm? Shouldn’t you try and woo your (Name) on your own?”

“Do you think the others are leaving it up to chance?”

“Ha, fair enough, though I hate to say that you already seem a bit behind if you’re asking me that at this point in the year.”

Leona frowned, ears pinning to his head and tail swishing in frustration. He didn’t like the sound of that.

“You saying I need to get moving, huh?”

You shrugged, your bangles jingling as you waved your hand. “Maaaaybe. I’m assuming that you didn’t piss me off in this time back during the whole contract stuff with Azul, so the me in this time didn’t try to wack your head off with your broom.”

“You did what?” 

Leona couldn’t help himself lean in closer as you let out an embarrassed laugh, covering your smile. 

“Ah, I ask you to help me and you told me to deal with it on my own. When i threatened to keep you up all night if you didn’t, you actually tossed me and Grim out of the dorm and told me to not show my face again.” 

You laughed harder as you told the story, eyes crinkling.

“I was sooooo pissed off that I went back in, made Grim distract the dorm in the lounge, snuck into your room while you were distracted, and tried swinging it as hard as I could into your head when you walked in. We got into it after that, bruised each other up. I even gave you a black eye, though you gave me a massive bite to my arm.”

Leona straightened as you pushed your shuka further past your shoulders, revealing your matching Lion’s Guard tattoo. The second born was always assigned as the leader, though you were a rank lower than him based on it. You tapped it, gesturing for him to move in closer. 

As he did, Leona noticed that right under the black ink, was the faintest prescence of a scar. He could just barely make out where his canines had dug into you skin, no doubt drawing blood. 

“Hm, not a good idea for a little mouse to pick a fight with such a big carnivore.” Leona couldn’t help but drawl out a teasing remark, though you too it in stride as you covered the tattoo and scar again. 

“Oh, don’t you worry. This Mousy packed a bunch, and back then, you gave me respect for holding my own against you, so you helped me out with Azul. We just got…closer after that.”

You smiled fondly as you reminisced, looking up at him and reaching you hand out to his face. This time, Leona didn’t flinch away and let you cup his cheek, rubbing a thumb just under his eye, where the tip of his scar lay.

“We took our time, it was natural. I can’t really say too much other than that.”

Natural, huh? He didn’t have a fight with you in this time. Maybe he was already screwed. Maybe he just needed to get that fiery part of you out. 

Leona’s never been one for fate, he’s always desired making his own way through the world. Maybe he’ll just have to do that with you too. And…with Falena and Niah too…

“Hmm. Well, I have to wait until my own little mouse is back from where the Fur—”

“Grim.”

“—Grim sent them. I’ll come up with a plan, a nap’ll help with that.”

He didn’t wait for a response, instead opting to move over and stretch his body so that his head was in your lap, face looking up at you. 

You took to it naturally, like your own Leona did this often, hands immediately smoothing his hair away from his face, combining through it with your fingers. 

“...You really do look look so much younger like this.”

“...Yeah?”

“Yeah…” Leaning back once again to rest against the pillows and stone wall, stretching your legs out under his body to get more comfortable, you ran a soothing finger along the ridge of his nose. Leona wondered if you got that from him as well; he’d do it to Cheka when he was bothering him to coax his nephew into a nap instead of bothering him.

“Go on, take your nap. We can talk more when you wake up, yeah?”

Leona didn’t respond, though his tail wrapped around your leg as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I’ll hold you to that Mousy. You’ll be helpin’ me scheme for my own (Name).”

He didn’t need his eyes, he could hear the smile in your voice as you responded. 

“Of course. Just for you sweetheart.”

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[emeraldserenade]

Connections ~ Joaquin Torres

synopsis: you and Joaquin keep meeting, yet you never seem to get his number. Not until someone pushes you together.

tw: limited use of y/n, someone tries to wear white to reader's sister's wedding, reader was a sharp shooter, violence, reader only briefly talks about their dead dog, reader gets hurt and goes into surgery, possible spoilers for cabnw, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

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It was at the hospital when you first met Joaquin Torres, he was being released and you were visiting your brother. Joaquin was by himself when you met him, waiting to be pick up.

"Hey, you're the new Falcon, right?" You asked, stopping only a few steps away from him.

"Uh, yeah, I am," he nodded and you smiled at him.

"Cool," you nodded before hesitating. "Thanks for what you did at Celestial Island, you saved my father from having to go back to a war zone," you told him, eyes shining from unshed tears. Joaquin did have time to answer you before you were ushered inside by your mother.

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The next time you met Joaquin was in a bookstore, he saw you first. He remembered you, how you recognized and thanked him. He wanted to tell you how much that had meant to him but got nervous. That changed, however, when you looked up from the book you were looking at and made eye contact with him.

"Hey, I don't know if you remember me but," you stopped talking when you realized you had started talking at the same time as Joaquin.

"No, I remember you. You're the girl from the hospital," he offered and you smiled.

"Yeah that's me," you laughed gently and pushed some hair behind your ear. "I'm y/n by the way," you told him.

"Joaquin Torres," he offered his name and hand. You took the latter for a handshake.

"Well, it was nice to officially meet you, Joaquin," you smiled at him before leaving. Joaquin cursing himself for not getting your number.

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The third time you met Joaquin was at your sister's wedding. You were the Maid of Honor and was tasked with making sure no one was wearing white after you finished getting ready. You greeted people as they walked in, a bottle of red wine hidden in the podium next to you just in case. You should have guessed that Joaquin was Sam Wilson's plus one, but you somehow didn't even think of that. The two walked in and you greeted Sam warmly before turning to Joaquin and greeting him just as warmly.

"You know Sam?" Joaquin had walked up to you a few minutes later, you were still greeting guests.

"Yeah, my sister and his sister have been friends for years," you told Joaquin.

"Did Sam tell you to thank me then?" Joaquin's voice took on a tone that you've never heard before.

"What? No, I haven't seen Sam in months until today," you spun to look at him, eyebrows scrunched together. "Joaquin, I swear, I thanked you because I wanted to," you told him, placing your hand against his arm. Joaquin didn't have a chance to answer before an uproar happened outside. You looked out the door and saw your soon-to-be brother-in-law's girlfriend outside in a wedding dress. "What is she doing here? She's not even invited," you mused to yourself. Joaquin followed you outside, his eyes darting down to the bottle of red wine in your hand.

"Just let me in!" She tried to push past the people around her but you just walked up and brandished the bottle you were holding. She didn't seem to realize but everyone around her did and took a step back. She huffed in amusement before whipping around and coming face to face with you and the bottle of red. You reached forward and tipped the bottle of her head, making sure to use your other hand to hold the bottom of your dress away from the splashes.

"There," you gave her a self satisfied smile and stepped out of the way as she lunged at you.

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It was later at the reception that you and Joaquin got to talk again, your sister, ever the loving person, paid for every bridesmaid to have a reception dress that was shorter and easier to move in. Which is how Joaquin convinced you to dance with him, which you did, for hours. You two were a little out of breath and laughing when you both left the dance floor. You noticed some of your sister's friends staring you two down but thought nothing of it.

"When Sam said he was brining a plus one, part of me was hoping it would be you," you confessed, looking over at Joaquin. He smiled but was interrupted by one of your sister's more brazen friends.

"Hey, handsome, do you want an escape from my friend's boring little sister? We can go dance," She was touching his shoulders, back, and chest as she spoke and you couldn't help but think about how if the roles were reversed it wouldn't even be ok.

"Oh, no thank you, I'm good here," Joaquin gave her a smile but she wasn't backing down.

"Are you sure? You don't have to be nice to her, I never was," she tried to whisper the last part as if it were a secret, but the alcohol she had been drinking wasn't helping her. Joaquin was saved from answering when the girl's boyfriend walked over, the two started fighting a few steps away and you made bewildered eye contact with Joaquin before you both started laughing.

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The fourth time you met Joaquin, you were helping him and Sam with a mission. You were, as someone you can't remember once said, the 'guy' in the chair. You weren't as good a Joaquin at computers but you knew your way around.

"Uh, Sam, you might want to move," you told him.

"Why?" He questioned, he was on a roof of a nearby building.

"You've got company coming up the stairs," you told him, watching as more started to go up the stairs of the building Joaquin was on too. "Joaquin, move now," you told him, desperate as you watched both boys get into fights. You called in backup, getting people there would take time, time the boys did not have. "Shit," you cursed and looked around the room you were in and spotted a sniper rifle. You got up and grabbed it, sprinting to the stairwell of the building you were in and up that stairs.

"y/n, are you there? We need backup, send people in!" You heard Sam yell through the comms.

"I did, they should be here in like 15 minutes," you told him, getting to the right spot to take aim at the building Joaquin was on. He needed your help more than Sam. You shot them down, none of them were wearing helmets or leg protection. That's where you aimed, you watched Joaquin look around for the person who was helping him but you didn't have time to wave at him. You moved your sights and aim to help Sam, shooting down the people he was having trouble with.

"I thought you said they wouldn't be here for 15 minutes," Sam panted into his comm. You stood up straight and looked directly over to Sam as you set the gun down.

"I was an FBI sharp shooter, did you forget?" You waved over to Joaquin as he flew back to the building, Sam not far behind.

"Yeah, I did," Sam admitted and you shook your head. The three of you started back down the stairs, Sam leading the way. Joaquin lagged a little behind with you.

"You were a sharp shooter?" Joaquin looked over at you as you two walked down the stairs side by side.

"Yeah, I quit after a job gone wrong," you sighed, shuddering as you remembered accidentally hitting a little girl after just following orders.

"What do you do now?" Joaquin asked.

"Oh, right now, nothing. I was helping out at the VA with Sam for a while after I got back but then I moved farther than I wanted to travel everyday. I still go and help every now and again, but not as often as I'd like," you admitted, walking back into the room you three had been holed up in.

"We probably need to move," Sam told you two and you nodded.

"I can get us in a hotel, I have a card that isn't in my name," you told Sam and he slowly nodded.

"Why do you have a credit card not in your name?" Same questioned.

"First off, it's a debit card, I am not putting someone into credit card debit. Secondly, I was given it after I helped this old rich man. He just handed me the card and a paper with the information and told me he would put money on it monthly," you explained, crossing your arms.

"A old man just gave you his debit card?" Sam looked at you with an incredulous look as you three started packing up the room.

"I mean, yeah. It's not like he was a complete stranger, he knows my dad," you shrugged.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

The fifth time you met Joaquin was the same day, when you had to tell the two that there was only one room left.

"Hey, so, I have some not great news," you announced as you walked up to the other two.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"There's only one room," you cringed at Sam's annoyed face. "There's two beds and a couch," you told them and watched Sam relax a little.

You three walked into the room and you didn't even voice your decision before you hurried over to the couch.

"Uh, no. y/n you get a bed," Sam tried to argue with you but you gave him a pointed look.

"You're Captain America now, you need a bed. And Joaquin don't you even dare try and argue with me," you looked over at your shoulder at the boy you addressed.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You shifted on the couch again before sitting up and looking over at the door, you had wanted to leave but didn't know how heavy of a sleeper Joaquin is. You knew Sam could sleep through just about anything. You sighed and got up, slipping on one of the slippers the hotel provided for you all.

"Can't sleep?" You jumped at Joaquin's voice, slapping your hand over your chest. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he raised his hands up in surrender.

"No, it's ok," you sighed, calming your heartbeat. "And no, I can't. I don't get how Sam can sleep anywhere," you mused. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, I couldn't sleep either," he told you and you nodded at him. "I'm not used to sleeping without another body in my bed," he told you and you raised your eyebrows at him.

"Really?" You teased and he backtracked a little.

"I have a dog, he lays in bed with me until I fall asleep," Joaquin told you and you laughed gently.

"I get that, I'm not used to being alone while I fall asleep either. My dog passed a few months ago and I'm still getting used to it," you admitted. You two stood in silence for a while before Joaquin broke it.

"Want to share the bed? That way both of us might be able to sleep," Joaquin offered and you thought about it.

"Sure," you and Joaquin walked in and both laid down on his bed. You two fell asleep and awoke in the morning to Sam taking pictures of you two cuddling, claiming he would be keeping them for your future wedding.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

The final time you met Joaquin was after the mission. You had gotten hurt while helping them, the others got smart about you being on another roof and taking them down. You were now in the hospital after your surgery, it wasn't major. You woke up to Joaquin in the chair next to your bed, it was clear he was in a state of disarray.

"Hey," you gently squeezed the hand that was gently resting in yours.

"Querida, you're awake," Joaquin shot up straight.

"Yeah, I am," you told him, letting him roam his eyes over you and rub the back of your hand with his thumb.

"I," Joaquin started to talk but cut himself off. "Sam told me that you like me and that I should just ask you out, so would you like to go on a date with me?" Joaquin looked nervous and his thumb stilled on the back of your hand.

"I would love to," you told him, smiling at him as he smiled back. "I do need your number though," you joked, laughing with Joaquin.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[wukyma]

I'm very curious about your Posepoli AU if you are OK with sharing facts about it ? Maybe what you have in mind? Or what Poseidon have in mind withvhis proposition 🤔 I can't only imagine the crew reaction

Also I'm in absolute love with your art ! The way you color? Your Odysseus ? Incredible. Make me think about fairy tales book illustrations you know ? And don't let go on your design of Poseidon ? He look so cold and distanced, it's actually genius!

Oh, thank you so much 💖 It means a lot! I loved illustrated fairytales as a kid and had a similar book of Greek myths, so that's probably where the style comes from, hehe

As for the AU... I lied shamelessly in the other post and speedran through coloring the panels and imma show y'all everything today!

If you haven't seen the previous one go check it out first

SO, Polites lives. But now he has to cope with the consequences of their recklessness,,

⬇️⬇️⬇️ cut because yapping again

The wind bag gets opened, and they're faced with Poseidon seeking revenge,,

Odysseus' apology isn't accepted (who even apologizes like that??), but Poseidon doesn't get to strike him —

Polites steps in and asks for them to be spared.

The god almost laughs in his face because that's an utterly ridiculous attempt, but decides that there's no harm in amusing himself a bit. Yet, no matter what Poseidon thinks about the man and how much he despises his ideals,, Polites is very different from most mortals he met, with his unshakeable belief in a better world (that realization happens much later in the plot, at the moment he's just pissed off)

So, yeah. Poseidon gives them a challenge: if they find another way around the storm, continue their journey without harming or killing (as per Poli's ideology), and get home, he will spare everyone, even Odysseus. The one who's formally "responsible" for holding up their end of the deal is still Polites, and he gets a kind of seal/tattoo as proof that neither side will go against the terms (yay ✨️aesthetics ✨️)

Forgot to mention: the whole crew is alive — 600 men making their way to Ithaca!

Next stop would be Circe's island,,, guess who will become besties? Ehehwhe

Things I believe are important to mention:

Poseidon REALLY doesn't like Polites in this AU (well,, for now) and wants to see him fail, then drown the fleet and be done with it

His main motivation here wouldn't be to avenge Polyphemus, but to prove that Polites is wrong (same as with Odysseus, but more intense)

Get ready for tons of mockery in the next part ( ；∀；)

I headcanon (not just in this AU but in general) that Polites, Perimedes, and Elpenor are also very close friends!

Odysseus is oblivious about Poli's feelings towards him (dude is mole-blind when it comes to that), but Eurylochus knows

Umm, so that's it for now! See y'all next time, because telling things without throwing pictures in seems meh... However, that's up to you, too. I can continue as it is and draw the scenes you'd like to see and/or choose later :3 Just write how u think would be more okayish i guess??

Bonus thing: congrats on reading till the end lol. there is one inconsistency in the comic above. at the sketch stage I flipped 3 of these panels, and they don't match with the other ones (seen in the details) first one to guess (say the nr order, idc) gets to request ANYTHING epic‐related from me :D

[dreamsy990]

you know i used to think it was weird how sora and roxas have such different personalities for supposedly being 'the same person' but after playing a few games i sort of realized that they do have similar personalities, because roxas acts how sora does when he's under extreme stress.

compare roxas to sora in, say, kh1. that's where a lot of peoples idea of sora's personality comes from. sora is generally very upbeat and optimistic in that game. not very similar to roxas, right?

but let's switch the game and talk about a game where sora is ABSOLUTELY GOING THROUGH IT. chain of memories.

sora's resting state is melancholy in com. he only ever cheers up in short bursts, usually when he's joking around with friends. just like roxas.

he's quick to anger, and tends to lash out at the organization members. best example of this is when larxene makes him 'remember' namine, and he swings at her repeatedly, even after she's gone. he only stops when jiminy is able to snap him out of it.

you know what scene that resembles?

sora, while a bit more on the angry side and less sad, continues to act like this in kh2 when he's in stressful situations. (he also has a tendancy to insult people which, while it's not very related to the point, is very funny and sora saying 'gonna cry?' to xigbar is great.) i cant comment any further than that about kh2 off the top of my head.

so, roxas acts like sora does when he's stressed, right? but why is roxas always acting like that? to which i say, he isnt!

he only ever acts like that when he's also in fucked up and stressful situations, which happens to be a CONSTANT in his life. but when he's hanging out with axel and xion, a decidedly NOT stressful situation, he's a lot more like sora. he's teasing his friends and insulting his coworkers and joking around and acting like a normal kid. not really important, but unless i misremembered some sora lines which is VERY possible, both roxas and sora respond to friendly insults with "oh thanks!" a lot. just a funny little detail that felt relevant.

the biggest differences between roxas and sora boil down to environment and... i dont know how to put it besides volume? roxas is very quiet and tends to keep most of his thoughts to himself, while sora is very loud and expressive in comparison.

there is one other huge difference i noticed, which is less character based and more story. sora wanted to get off destiny islands and explore with his friends, but roxas just wanted routine. sora wants adventure, and roxas wants things to stay the same, for days where he gets off work and eats ice cream with his friends to last forever, to keep having conversations about nothing and watching the sunset. roxas wants normalcy, sora wants excitement. it's just interesting seeing their contrast.

not sure if this is very well said or anything i just wanted to talk about my boys

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: Plus size!fem!Reader x Johnny

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Loss of virginity. Romantic Johnny. Fingering. Johnny and reader tasting themselves. Protected vaginal sex (He's got stacks on stacks of condoms, let's be fr). Semi-awkward sex? A surprising amount of plot from me...

| wc: 6.3k

| aurora's note: this was originally written as a self insert!oc x idol!oc. please let me know if i missed changing any names, pronouns, or information.

When Johnny opened the front door to his apartment, you were hit with the warmth from the heaters in every room and the heated floors kicking into gear suddenly. The contrast between the cold outside of Seoul in winter and the warmth inside made his apartment even more inviting than it already was. You stepped in behind him. You had been to his apartment a million times over, there was nothing to be worried about. This was Johnny, after all. He would probably offer to watch a movie or two, then you would crash on the couch together, cuddled up in each other’s arms, you half off the couch because of how much of a rough sleeper you were.

“Would you like something more comfortable to wear?” He tossed his keys on the counter after you nodded shyly. “I have some pajamas you can wear, come on.” He held his hand out for you to take, then he led you to his bedroom where he pulled out fresh navy blue sweatpants, a grey t-shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks. “I’ll change in the guest room.” After grabbing his own pajamas from the bed, he gave you a quick smile and a peck on the lips, and he left with the door closing behind him.

You stood there, baffled, staring at the door, wondering what would happen within the next few hours. You never changed in his apartment before— Never wore his clothes. It happened so quickly, you didn’t even realize that your feet had carried you from the front door all the way to his bedroom so easily… What if he had other intentions? It would have been so easy for him to coax you there all the same, and Johnny had a certain reputation surrounding him, despite your many months of dating, so who was to say you wouldn’t have fallen into some kind of plot just to get you into his bed?

No, come on. It was Johnny! He never would have done that to you in a million years.

You were embarrassed after putting his pajamas on. They didn’t fit the way they were supposed to, at least not in the way you imagined wearing a partner’s clothes… You thought that it would be loose fitting and so baggy that it would hide everything, because that was how you always saw girlfriends wearing their boyfriend’s clothes online and in movies. Instead, because Johnny was so much taller and skinnier, his sweatshirt fit you perfectly, almost a little too perfectly, and it made you feel self-conscious. You disliked that the waistband hugged your hips, or that there was no bagginess in the sleeves, and that he would be able to see everything from your boobs to your hips to the tummy you had… You wanted to cry. But it wasn’t like you could take it off and go back into the living room wearing a nice dress for the rest of the night. And you knew that he would have been disappointed if you didn’t wear his clothes. Fuck.

You tried to suck it up and go out there anyhow. They were just clothes, after all.

“I made some hot chocolate, I hope that’s alri—” Johnny stopped in his tracks when he looked up and saw you standing there. “I…” It looked like his brain went into Windows Reboot because of the way he was mindlessly gawking at you, like he couldn’t think straight for two seconds. “I, um, made some hot chocolate…” He gulped. “Figured it was… too late for coffee…” He slowly ventured around the kitchen island with both of the mugs in his hands. “You look pretty,” he finally let out just as he was standing in front of you and could steal another kiss.

You blushed against his lips. He was embarrassing you even more than wearing the clothes already did.

When you couldn’t find the strength to reciprocate or move, Johnny took the hint and went towards the couch so that he could set down the drinks and plop himself down comfortably on the cushions. “Can I convince you to watch Star Wars with me?”

You had to snap yourself back to reality with a deep breath and a blink of your eyes that made you glance over at his casualness. “Depends on which one,” you replied as you went to join him. “If it’s one of the sequels, I’ll leave.”

He laughed and pulled you down onto the couch with him. “I was thinking the fourth one.”

“Thin ice, but it’ll do.”

As Johnny turned on the TV and scrolled to find A New Hope, you got comfortable laying next to him, your back pressed against his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder so that he could see what he was doing on the TV. All the while it was painfully obvious to you how Johnny's feet were lazily playing with your ankles. Did he realize what he was doing? Did he know that you were very aware of the clothing you were wearing and how he was pressing his body into yours? Maybe he didn’t fully know it, but you did. It made you dizzy and excited, but you had to play it off coolly so that you didn’t look like an idiot around him.

When the movie started, Johnny put the remote to the side, then his hands went to your hips. You finally tensed up at the same time your breath hitched. Surely Johnny knew exactly what he was doing! You even imagined that he was grinning behind you as his fingers drew light circles on your hips, tickling your skin, forcing the hair on your arms and legs to stand up before a shiver ran down your spine, causing you to buck back into him slightly. Johnny sighed. He didn’t flinch or react too wildly… He just sighed contently behind you.

Luke met with the Jawas, and Johnny's hands wandered down to your thighs, a part of your body which you had a love-hate relationship with. On one hand, thick thighs were nice because they gave you bigger hips which you enjoyed, but you also hated the idea of how much fat there was on your legs and how it made you different from other women— The types of women Johnny used to get with before he fell head over heels for you. Having him knead your thighs made you unsure of what to do. Were you supposed to tell him that he was being distracting? Perhaps you could have shoved his hand away if you truly disliked it. Or, worse, you could have admitted to him that it was nice, that you wanted more, that his hands could have even gone between—

What the Hell were you thinking!

Ugh, it was all Johnny's fault. He was purposefully teasing you. All night, he’d been affectionate with you in the car and at his birthday dinner, and now that you were at his place where he could do anything he wanted, he was taking full advantage of it, and you couldn’t tell the difference between up and down whenever he touched you like that.

As Han flew the crew away from Tatooine, you couldn’t take it anymore. The movie was going too fast yet so slow, and it was like you were watching it for the first time or not at all… You just couldn’t think straight with the way Johnny was behaving. So you decided to distract yourself from your wandering thoughts caused by his curious hands, pushing yourself off the couch to get more to drink from the kitchen. You prayed as you picked up his mug that he didn’t notice your flustered face. Hopefully he didn’t see your anxiety stricken hands or wobbly knees either.

Johnny shuffled around somewhat on the couch behind you while you made drinks in the kitchen. You tried your best to ignore him, to not give him any inclination that all you could think about was him, but it was so hard when all there was to think about over the sound of the movie was how it sounded to hear him sigh in your ear when you moved.

Then it occurred to you. A wicked thought. Something slightly brilliant that Yuta would be proud of if you ever got the courage to tell him about it.

If Johnny wanted to play the teasing game because he thought it would be easy to get away with, then you would fight back, play the same game, meet him at eye level so that he didn’t get all the fun out of it. He would either lean into it, and what was the harm at that point when you were already committed to each other… Or he’d tell you off, at which point you would know for sure what the boundaries were and that he wasn’t actually fucking with you, he was just trying to get comfortable while spending time with you. Either way, it would give you some relief and peace of mind.

So you returned to the couch with full cups in hand, and you gave Johnny's mug to him before carefully sliding directly onto his lap with your thighs bracketing his, preventing him from seeing the movie— All there was to see was you, in his clothes. You both stared at each other while you hesitated. What were you supposed to do next? You hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. Shit.

Johnny took the initiative instead. His free hand began gently gliding up your thigh, inching its way towards the spot which craved him most. You tried so hard to play it smooth. You didn’t want to let him know exactly how much he had actually gotten to you, because that wouldn’t be fun, for it defeated the purpose of the game you wanted to play with him. So you swallowed your embarrassment before smoothly taking a drink while staring down at him. Johnny's breath fluttered.

“How was your birthday?” you finally asked him quietly.

His hand snaked higher towards the hem of your pants, finding the shoestring waistband that he could tug on to keep his mind occupied. “It was fine…”

“Did you have fun?”

He gulped and nodded vaguely.

“You sure?”

He nodded more confidently. Slowly, little by little, as if he was worried that one quick movement would scare you off completely, Johnny leaned in towards you while tilting his chin up for you as you leaned down and in just as slowly as him until… eventually… your lips touched. You elected to set your cup down on one of the tables beside you so that you could wrap your fingers in his hair, but Johnny was too distracted to go to all that trouble. He did his best to balance his drink in one hand while holding you close on his lap. You took pity on him. It wasn’t like you were stupid— You knew exactly what was happening and where things were leading to, so you put more of your weight down on his thighs, even though you were terrified to do so, and that prompted Johnny to put his cup next to yours.

“Tell me if I should sit up,” you whispered between kisses. “Or get off…”

But his hands drifted around to the small of your back so that you couldn’t let up at all. Suddenly, much to your surprise, Johnny grabbed your ass and held on while moving your hips forward and back, which made you feel his clothed erection pressing against your covered clit. You both moaned. He moved you faster, and you bit onto his bottom lip in an attempt to fight for some kind of dominance, however all that did was encourage Johnny to use his tongue in your mouth to reclaim the dominance he always won. You groaned and pulled at his hair.

“John,” you muttered between kisses, but he kept going so you had to push away in order to breathe. “I have to tell you something first…” You bit your lip nervously. “I…” Your gaze tore away from his due to the shame bubbling up in your chest. “I’ve never…” It was too fucking embarrassing to admit it. Shit. “I’ve never done…”

Suddenly, his thumb was tilting your chin so that you had to look at him again. “It’s okay.”

You pouted at him, relieved but also still ashamed.

“It is!” He chuckled, wiping your pout clean off your face ‘til you giggled, earning a grin from him. “But we’re not doing it on the couch if that’s the case.” He grabbed your hand from his hair. “Here…” He kissed your knuckles before slowly helping you off his lap so he could stand and take you along with him towards the bedroom. Cautiously, he closed the door so that you could be more private and intimate. “Is this okay?”

You nodded.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” you croaked. “I’m just nervous, I’m sorry.”

Johnny led you towards the bed. “Don’t be sorry.” He kissed your cheeks gently. “Just… tell me if we should slow down or stop, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

He moved down to kiss your neck. “I’m not gonna rush. Okay?”

“Yeah…” you bit back a moan.

As he chuckled against your skin, he carefully helped you lay back onto the mattress. Despite your anxieties in the back of your head about what was going to proceed, Johnny's hold on you managed to calm you down just enough that you were able to participate by tangling your fingers in his hair once more as you spread your legs in order to make room for Johnny as he shimmied down. He thanked you by settling comfortably. Through his lashes, he looked up at you carefully while his cold hands snaked under your shirt, slowly pushing it up and up and up until it was over your bra and up to your chin. Johnny gulped slightly. His eyes were glued to the beautiful image of your lace bra holding your breasts, and you could see as his eyes glossed over that he was imagining what you'd look like sans the bra. The self-consciousness was settling in slightly. No one had ever looked at you like that. Not in the context similar to your current predicament. The angle he was at made it so that he could see how your stomach pressed against the waistband of the pajama pants he lent to you, and that was enough to make you want to cover yourself up— But the second your hands went to do so, Johnny grabbed your wrists to prevent you from hiding what he was admiring.

“You’re not going to scare me off,” he said reassuringly, like he could read your mind. “I know what I’ve signed up for.” Much to your surprise, Johnny kissed both sides of your waist before inching up to kiss your clavicle between your breasts. “You’re so fucking beautiful—” He barely got the words out before he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, jumping up to kiss you passionately. While you kissed, you continued to play with his hair, and Johnny's hands slid under you slowly with your help by shimmying around slightly so that he could unclasp your bra after a few seconds of struggling. At least he got it off. You thought that was a talent in itself since you were laying down and you were kissing so roughly. “Fuck…” As your bra disappeared from your chest, Johnny cupped one breast with his left hand.

You whimpered into his mouth. Johnny took that as his chance to stick his tongue further in, your own tongue immediately giving up all control to him so that he could do as he pleased.

Suddenly, just when you were getting used to the slickness of his tongue that was beginning to feel natural to you, Johnny pulled away and moved back down, his lips immediately wrapping around your right nipple. You hadn’t anticipated it. Not for a single moment had you assumed that he would do such a thing without any warning— It caught you so off guard that you reacted by immediately tugging on his hair while you moaned quietly. Johnny seemed to grin.

Somehow you had enough of your wits left about you to remember that you didn’t want to let him have all the fun. Adjusting to the feeling of having him suck on your nipple, you reached for the shoulder seams of his shirt, and you started scrunching the fabric up into your hands so that his shirt was slowly pinched up to his head, revealing his muscular back to you.

Johnny showed some mercy to you by finally neglecting both of your nipples in order to sit up and pull off his shirt. You froze up entirely. He was… Well, it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen his torso a million times before on sets and in dressing rooms— And since you started dating, there had been a few times where you were making out and you had nearly seen it all within the same context of which you were faced with in that moment… But seeing him like that made your head spin. Why did he have to look like that? Why was he as hot as he really was? And why did he have to entice you so badly with his tight abs, defined pecs, muscular arms, tight back, and his… Well, the erection that was glaringly obvious in his pants.

“You okay?”

You nodded. “Can I?” You played with the hem of his pants like he did to you before on the couch, and you bit your lip at the thought of what was waiting for you beneath those pajama pants.

He looked fazed. “Y-yeah…” And as you pulled the drawstring loose, Johnny reached out to run his thumb over your bottom lip until you released it from your teeth. “Don’t bite your lip.”

“Why not?”

“Because it makes me want you more.”

“Is that a bad thing?” You slid your hands around his hips, working your fingers into his pants slightly.

Johnny gulped again. “I want to… control myself tonight… You’re making it difficult…”

You slid his pants down over his ass, his erection still holding the front up a little bit, but you were beginning to see his groomed pubic hair. “My apologies.” With another swift movement, you finally had enough strength in you to pull his pants all the way down to his knees. You tried your best not to look at it. You wanted to show some decorum and keep looking him in the eye, but his panting chest and his flexing thighs in your peripheral vision were becoming too much to ignore.

“Is this still okay?” he asked, his finger remaining on your lip.

“Yes.”

Johnny leaned down again so that he could kiss you passionately, his hips hanging in the air, out of your reach or view, leaving you confused and yearning to know more. He had seen you struggle to behave. He knew that you were trying your best to be proper… So he saved you before you had to embarrass yourself, but that also meant that you didn’t get to indulge your curiosities either. He got to see all of you, why couldn’t you see all of him? He was the one more naked than you were.

“My pants,” you mumbled into the kiss. He blindly fumbled with it as you wished. Together, you worked to lift your hips so that he could push the fabric down just enough for you to kick it off and to the side. Now you were more naked than him. “Touch me.”

Johnny took your lead, one hand cupping the underside of your breasts while another sneakily made its way down towards your thighs. He squeezed the sponginess of your thick thighs. It took you by surprise, but it was welcomed, so you spread your legs out to make more room for him. Johnny's breath shuddered against your lips when he settled between your thighs. It was like he was most comfortable there. Not only was he able to balance himself more easily, but he was also in the prime position to thrust into you whenever you were ready. 

“More,” you pleaded with him.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

To distract you from his anticipated movements, Johnny drifted his hand from your thigh to your slick folds, slowly running his index finger between your dripping entrance and your clit. You bucked into his touch. No one had touched you there before. No one but yourself.

“You're so wet,” he told you.

“Stop teasing...”

You weren't sure why you were jumping the gun, truth be told. He insisted on taking things slow, at your own pace. You were the one who was scared to lose your virginity in the first place— Weren't you supposed to be ashamed? Hadn’t life and the media taught you that it was embarrassing to still be a virgin at your age, despite your many efforts to remedy the issue? Wasn’t Johnny supposed to be turned off to the idea of sleeping with you once he knew that you had no experience? No… Johnny wasn’t like that, and neither were you. You both had a fight and a wit about yourselves that drew you together; You couldn’t be torn apart by something so stupid as the concept of virginity. Johnny could be an idiot sometimes, but he wasn’t that fucking stupid.

“Gotta warm you up with my fingers first, darling, I’m sorry.”

You nodded knowingly, agreeing with his statement that came off almost like a proposition. Johnny kissed you again with even more passion just before his index finger dipped into you. You pulled roughly on his hair and croaked out his name.

“You okay?”

You nodded again.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, you can keep going… Don’t stop.”

To encourage him, you swallowed your nerves then reached between your bodies, going around his own hand which was toying with you so that you could find the tip of his cock with your thumb. You weren't expecting there to be pre-cum dripping off it. Well, you knew in concept that it was possible, but you didn’t know that when you would touch him that it would be there… It was all too new to you. You didn’t know where to start. Was your thumb over his tip enough? Surely not. What if you dared to use other fingers on his wet tip? Yeah, that seemed to get a decent reaction out of him, he bucked his hips forward and gasped into your mouth. What if you did what you had seen a million times in porn and read about in plenty of smut stories… What if you wrapped your entire hand around the length of his dick?

“Jesus, baby, don’t make me cum yet.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“You’re distracting me.” To get back at you, Johnny tried to fit his middle finger inside of you, alongside his index finger. “I’m supposed to be focused on you, remember?”

“Just want to know what you feel like…”

“And what do I feel like?”

You blushed under the intense stare of Johnny who suddenly curled his fingers directly into your g-spot like he knew you perfectly from the first day they met. How the Hell did he know that spot was there? You didn’t even know what. You couldn’t hit that spot the way he did—

“Fuck—” You turned your face to hide in the pillow. Johnny hit it again. “Fuck, J.”

“Tell me what I feel like, baby. You can do it.”

It was like he knew that the embarrassment got to you in a good way, he looked so confident above you with his fingers moving skillfully in and out of you while waiting for a proper response. Dickhead. You tried your best to get back at him by jerking him off harder, but it didn’t seem to faze him too much. Truly a confident asshole.

“Go on,” he encouraged.

“You just want me to tell you that you’re big.”

“I already know that.” He curled his fingers again. “That’s why I’ve gotta stretch you first.” And as he said that, he scissored his fingers apart then back together, and he repeated the motion a couple of times, slowly spreading you more and more to make sure that you would be able to fit all of him.

“I need you,” was all the dwindling courage left in you had to say.

Johnny seemed slightly disappointed that you couldn’t bring yourself to admit what he really wanted to hear, but there would be plenty of other times to pry that embarrassing information out of you. Plenty of opportunities. So Johnny continued to take your lead by slowly removing his fingers from your core to leave room for what would come next— However, you were surprised when Johnny stuck his middle finger in his mouth, and with his gaze glued to yours, he tasted you. You tried to hide your embarrassment from him. You used your hands to cover your face, but Johnny didn’t like that one bit. He used his dry hand to reveal your face to him again so that you had to watch as he cleaned his middle finger off completely, then with a pop he released it from his mouth.

“Do you want to try?”

You gulped. Your hand slowly drifted up his length, earning a quiet pant from Johnny, his thighs tensing, and you collected some of his pre-cum on the tips of your fingers. Johnny shivered. With your gaze still watching him in the hopes of standing up to his confidence, your touch left his aching cock before you wrapped your lips around the tip of your index finger.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

He tasted… odd… Not bad, necessarily, but it definitely wasn’t anything you were used to. You thought that you would be prepared for the “salty” taste everyone claimed semen had, yet you couldn’t have predicted the texture or the underlying flavor that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, but you wondered if you would ever be able to suck him off and swallow. Again, you didn’t hate it; Maybe it would just take some time to get used to.

You also popped your finger out of your mouth. “Wanna try?”

Johnny chortled. “Fine.”

Still keeping you on your toes, Johnny leaned over to take your middle finger in his mouth at the same time he urged you to suck on his index finger. You obliged at the same time he did. You also hadn’t expected what you would taste like. It was similar to Johnny, but also not? It somehow seemed more pleasant than his pre-cum.

Johnny moaned around your finger, and you caught a quick glimpse at his cock jumping with anticipated excitement. You already told him that he could fuck you— You made it clear multiple times, but he was the one procrastinating. What if he didn’t want to hurt you, or was worried about you rushing things just to get it over with? But you weren't like that, and he knew it… He must have been savoring the way you were genuinely overconfident for the first time, because at work it was all a facade, and with him you were too shy and scared of spooking him off that you kept quiet. You enjoyed the chance to not be afraid of what was about to happen. Johnny made you feel so comfortable that you didn’t have a moment to second guess or be fearful of any pain that the sex might cause.

“Condom, J…”

“Hold on, I’ve got some.” He leaned over to open the top drawer of his bedside table while drying his hand on his own bare thigh. Somehow in the many months of dating, you never knew about the stack of condoms he had tucked away in the far back corner of the drawer. Well, he certainly did have a reputation to uphold.

With an unsurprising amount of expertise, Johnny used his teeth to tear the packet open before holding his erection in one hand and using the other to roll the condom on. The anxiety began to kick in again. After feeling how big he was in your hand, and knowing what it felt like to be stretched by just his fingers… Now you were slightly scared. He was there, hovering over you, and the fact that it was him made it reassuring, but all the expectations you had leading up to that point were crashing down around you all at once.

“Hey,” he cooed gently, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger, “just watch me. Hold me like this,” he guided your hands to his shoulders, “and pinch me if something’s wrong.”

You nodded silently.

He leaned in again, shifting his weight so that his hips could move towards yours while simultaneously bracing himself to kiss you. “Come here.” He laid an extremely gentle kiss on your lips, waiting to see if you would reciprocate. Your mind was so busy wandering for a minute that you couldn’t focus on him until he tilted his head to the right and started kissing you harder so that he could get you to breathe which allowed his tongue to slide into your mouth and claim dominance. You moaned when you felt Johnny’s tip brush against your clit. That gave him even more opportunity to distract you with his tongue.

You braced yourself on his shoulders and spread your legs even more when his cock drifted down your slit, landing at your dripping entrance.

“Breathe,” he moaned into your mouth.

You did as he instructed, and once you let out a deep exhale, Johnny began pushing into you. You winced slightly. The stretch was uncomfortable though not unbearable thanks to the previous efforts of his fingers. Feeling his girth push you open, and his length gliding along your slick walls was… There really weren’t any words… It felt so strange in comparison to how you imagined it. Having something inside of you like that made your stomach feel full, but in such a pleasurable way that it made you break the kiss so that you could throw your head back against the pillows.

When Johnny was settled in all the way, he paused to look at you and wait for a squeeze to his shoulders, yet it never happened.

“You okay?”

You took a deep breath in order to relax yourself. “Yeah… I think…”

“I’ve got you. Promise.”

You nodded. To hear that from him comforted you more than it ever did when you tried to remind yourself of it silently. He’s got you. He’s good to you. He wouldn’t hurt you. Those were all empty words until Johnny made them real.

“You can move.”

Johnny grinned before obliging you. Your breath got caught in your throat when his cock started dragging along your tight walls while he pulled his hips backwards. Was it supposed to feel that tight? Was he supposed to be that big? It hurt to some extent, but it felt good too, and Johnny was going slow enough that the pain was overshadowed almost entirely by the unfamiliar pleasure.

“This okay?”

“Keep going,” you begged him a bit.

Johnny's length pushed back into you, then he pulled back out. He was getting a bit faster. There was a rhythm building somewhere that you could sense, but he was giving you time to figure out if it felt good or if he needed to stop. No, don’t stop. You knew that it was pathetic, but you were almost inclined to beg him desperately to speed up and fuck you at a brutal pace like you’d always dreamed of; But Johnny wasn’t going to do that to you… Not yet, at least.

He was so gentle with you. It was like in movies when there would be a montage of bare skin and panting, maybe a tad of hair pulling here and there. Johnny was like that. He made sure to make every kiss count by letting them linger for long periods of time and the passion would vary between breaths. He held your hands, tangling your fingers together, just so he could feel if he was too fast or rough through the pulsing of your hands. If you squeezed him too tight, he slowed. If you winced, he pulled out slightly so that your walls could readjust and bear him before pressing into you again.

The only time he was certain was when you whispered into his long hair, “I’m getting close.”

Not that you were close. Not that you were cumming. But you were getting there if he kept going.

He tried to egg on another comment by nipping at your jawline and whispering back, “You’re so fucking tight… Fuck…”

While it didn’t earn him a proper response, you tugged at the strands of hair on the back of his neck in order to kiss him as hard as you could. There was a tension building in the pit of your stomach. There was a coil made of pleasure wrapping round and round, and it wasn’t a foreign feeling that scared you or made you second guess what was going on. You had touched yourself plenty of times in the past. You knew what made you cum— And that always happened with your fingers against your clit, but no one knew that about you except for Yuta ever since the asshole pried that information out of you when you were drinking. Johnny must have felt your walls fluttering around him and decided to do something about it.

“This the spot?” Johnny's fingers returned to your clit.

You moaned, throwing your head back into the pillows. “Y-yeah— J-just… just… like that… Fuck.”

Johnny was a fucking menace. While you had difficulties cumming via penetration on your own, the way Johnny worked his length in and out of you, his tip hitting all the right spots, and he played with your clit so fast, all of it had you seeing stars… At least his reputation paid off. At least it wasn’t all talk. He definitely knew what he was doing, which picked up the slack when you had no idea where to look or touch, and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak any more than necessary out of fear that you’d turn him off in an instant. You were too close to the edge to fuck it up.

“You’re close, aren’t you?”

You nodded.

“Gonna cum on my cock, pretty girl?”

You had never heard him speak like before, you didn’t expect to ever hear anything like that from him. Was it all those years of experience that taught him how to talk dirty to girls? Or was he doing that just for your sake? Why did you feel like if you tried that then it would be cringe as fuck and you'd turn yourself off? But when it came from him, it did everything it was supposed to.

“I’m close.”

That was a step up from before. Johnny was immediately encouraged to fuck you even faster, his abs tightening as much as possible, his biceps bulging even more to the point that you were concerned they were going to pop at any moment. The way he panted in your ear was a telltale sign that he too was close. His head fell into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin, his lips wet from licking and biting them so often throughout the whole ordeal; and Johnny began muttering a bunch of nonsense that you couldn’t understand while he was buried against you and moaning desperately with every thrust.

The coil in your stomach finally snapped when Johnny hit a new spot deep within you as his pelvis met your core entirely. A sinful moan left you in the process. Your eyes blurred slightly, so you squeezed them shut to not think about it and to focus solely on how Johnny's hips were still but his fingers were doing so much work on your clit in order to help you ride out your orgasm. Johnny let out a breath, then thrusted another two times… and with a grunt and, “I’m cumming,” Johnny came in the condom he was wearing. You laid there while you also let Johnny hit his high appropriately. You weren't sure if there was anything you could say or do, so you remained in your position to allow him to use you however he needed while you participated by pulling on his hair and kissing his neck.

“Fuck, princess…” He slumped on top of you.

You both laid there as you tried to catch your breaths and stop your heads from spinning.

“You feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” you said with a slight giggle.

“It was okay?”

You laughed even more and hit him. “Yes, stupid.”

He also chuckled as he pulled out of you and took off the condom which he tied shut then tossed into the trash can nearby. He flipped over onto his back beside you. “You promise it was good—”

“I promise. Stop worrying.” You turned to lay on your side to face him. “Thank you.”

Johnny grinned and reached out so that he could play with your swollen bottom lip. “But you promise you actually came, right—”

You shut him up with a kiss mixed with another giggle that made Johnny laugh too. It wasn’t so scary in hindsight. Sure, there was pain, as expected, but that had subsided so fast thanks to the care Johnny put into making sure that it was perfect, almost like he had been planning what your first time together would be like— Except he probably hadn’t anticipated taking your virginity, too, but he didn’t seem to mind once it happened. You were relieved. All those years you spent worrying over it and being self-conscious about it now made you feel stupid beyond comparison.

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[pondanimal]

hi im sick and the fever is cooking my braincells so here's some insane mclennon analysis from the infirmed:

they're doomed yaoi to me because their natures made it impossible for them to be together. paul's number 1 driving force is his pursuit of "success." he needed to meet every societal milestone to feel successful, having a wife and kids was important to him for that projection of success (among other reasons I'm sure, but this was one he couldn't ever get from john). paul undoubtedly loved john and reciprocated in some capacity. i say this with confidence because while john is naturally obsessive and jealous, i don't think he would've had as hard of a time moving on from paul for so long (up until he died practically) if his relationship with paul was purely unrequited yearning. there's just no way. paul curates his image so thoroughly that even he struggles to find the "real" paul underneath it all. it's much easier for him to hide this part of himself than it is for john, and that's the simple reason we have more evidence from him than we do paul. for paul, whatever relationship he had with john was one he always knew would be sidelined. if the sexual side was something that he did expect to continue long term, i think he would've been okay having his wife and kids and john on the side at the same time. (i do fully believe he liked jane, but she was definitely a very convenient beard, and i think she knew that on some level. hence the sudden break up that she swore to never talk about?) that was always how they did it. im sure they had some unspoken understanding between the two of them that the other was always the most important one in their heart despite the girls and wives they kept around.

i say unspoken because i don't think john really saw it the same way. he needed paul and he needed the other beatles desperately. he was the one to suggest they live together on that greek island. cynthia saw this in him and tried to make him realize he needed them more than they needed him. i think he wanted paul all to himself, and the rational side of him probably knew it was a delusional dream, but it meant that whatever way he could actually get paul was never going to be enough for him. his life probably had an insistent undercurrent of disappointment and frustration. somewhere along the line i think they finally tried to talk about the future of their relationship and paul probably didn't give john the answer that he wanted. john needed paul so much that not having him at all was better than only having part of him. he's the type that needs a unfailingly loyal soul mate who's just as obsessed as he is, and i think he found that desire satisfied in yoko who was willing to play along. i think paul's answer probably made john vindictive and spiteful, but i think a part of him still believed that things would continue the way they were between them. maybe he still overestimated how much paul needed him, or underestimated paul's ability to move on from him. (a bit of projection happening there probably) but his surprise when paul married linda, who he thought (hoped?) was another short term girlfriend, and his belief that they wouldn't last very long tells me that he still was clinging on to the chance that paul would come running back and prove his loyalty and love to him. everything john did around this time reads like an act of spite as well as a kind of impossible test for paul. paul never passed them and i think that's where much of john's resentment that yoko talks about came from. paul could never give him what he wanted and john kind of set him up for failure in that way, but still blamed him for the aftermath.

anyways, moral of the story is, paul's rigid need to chase perfection doomed his relationship with john, and john's need for all or nothing love doomed his relationship with paul.

[johns-prince]

1967 is decidedly peak year for Lennon-McCartney as John and Paul were reportedly and observably the closest they ever been. Coming and going together, John always hanging around Paul's house, practically inseparable.

Then somewhere from the end of 1967 to the beginning of 1968, India happens, and just all of a sudden these two are having a falling out? For no real reason? Go on, you can't believe that.

1967, we know John and Paul started taking LSD together. While they were close before, tripping out like this gave them access to getting much closer to each other than before. We know the experience of dissolving into each other through that eye contact thing was described by Paul as both disturbing, but good, and other subsequent trips with John as fantastic because of this new access to each other in ways they hadn't realized was probably possible.

There really isn't much of John talking about these specific trips with Paul, but considering how insistent he had been to take LSD with Paul, and the fact they continued to take it together to the point even Jane was jealous of John getting to experience that with Paul—he was probably over the moon about it. Finally, he gets to experience this much much deeper connection with Paul, melds them into one, their thoughts and feelings becoming singular.

Aside from how much closer John and Paul had gotten, it seems the Beatles at a whole were as close as ever. You have their trip to Greece in the same year, and how there were talks about them buying an island and living on it together.

1967 was really the year for the Beatles, for John and Paul especially.

Still, there's reservations. Paul mentions how you can't come back from the kind of experience he shared with John. You could say that he meant between all them, but that's only because Paul has a habit of including the other two whenever he's uncomfortable with the strong use of “I, me, myself,” in conjugation with John in certain contexts. We were jealous, we loved him, we felt like he was leaving us. Paul only briefly mentions George and Ringo, like a second thought, when describing his first LSD trip with John.

But it was just Paul and John, and I'm sure there were many other subsequent trips that involved solely them.

So they can't go back. Their relationship has changed in a fundamental way that both excites and pleases and disturbs Paul. We can only presume John wasn't as disturbed by it as he was pleased by getting to have this closeness with Paul that no one else would be able to share in. It was all their own.

Paul loved the Lennon-McCartney relationship for everything that it was, but he probably didn't want it to swallow up his whole self/identity (which is normal) Additionally, while I believe Paul is actually pretty straight heterosexual male, I do believe he had this special exception for John—and how can you reconcile that? I don't think Paul had the emotional and mental capacity to quite start to confront the fact there was some romantic/sexual tension between him and John that couldn't just be explained away.

For comparison, Yoko was willing to let her whole identity be swallowed up in the JohnandYoko partnership and relationship that we know today. Because it was technically giving John everything he needed from a partner that would keep him satiated or delusional enough for her to keep him and his connections and finances under her thumb. Even when it inevitably frustrated her that she felt living and thriving off of John's coattails, she made the choice to forgo her individualism and identity for what being with someone like John could give her. There would be no Yoko Ono in the papers and in any relevance without John Lennon.

It was kind of a perfect storm because Yoko and John were both very insecure people, fearful of failure and being a failure and being left behind, whether that be by others or the world.

In another essay I would point out that Yoko got with John because she needed him, needed him to help her complete herself, to transform her into a cultural and artistic icon. I'm not sure she always necessarily wanted him by choice as she needed him as means to an end.

Paul didn't exactly need to be with John as much as he wanted to be John, he wanted to be by John, next to, creating, collaborating, existing with. That's why in a way it was kind of silly for John to fear Paul going off on a solo career after writing yesterday. If Paul wanted to leave John and the others he could've, but he didn't. He wanted to be a Beatle, he wanted to be John's partner, to continue making music together until they were old men. Paul chose to be with John because he wanted to be. Simple as.

Anyway, Paul might have his own complexes and issues but Paul wasn't dealing with the black hole in his chest like John was. He had his insecurities, but Paul never needed to meld his entirety with another to try and make himself complete. Paul was much more secure in himself than John, even if he had to fake it at times, Paul always seemed to know himself better. Paul didn't carry around a self-hatred and lack of self worth like John did.

From an outsiders perspective, I can't fault Paul for not either wanting to be John's everything and anything, and not being able to be that infinite everything and anything for John—because of the time, the place, the sex, all the psychosexual bullshit in between, and because in the end it probably would've devoured them.

I doubt John knew how to deal with it either. John was always prone to extremes, one or the other, you love me fully unconditionally or you don't. What made the whole affair unfair was that he had the hardest time believing anyone could love him fully unconditionally. And Paul did (he still does!) but there's only so much a normal human being with flaws and hangups of his own can take.

By 1968 it seemed like John was hardly in a great state—increasingly abusing substances, feeling completely trapped by his first marriage (no fault of Cynthia, she tried so hard to make it work and make him happy), smothered by expectations, Brian's death (he's cursed y'know, everyone who's ever loved him dies on him), and probably some kind of mental illness brought on by it all—John wouldn't have been in a very stable mindset to really consider or even care too much about any repercussions about leaving his first wife and child to then go gallivanting as a free man, with his best male friend, collaborator, and partner.

But Paul, steadfast, moderate and conservative, not yet completely in the mental anguish shitter like John is, would be conscious enough of these consequences, what it could mean for the band, for them. These things mattered. And maybe John's a special case but Paul's not gay so how could it work to begin with? If he can't make any justifications for it or excuses (maybe if I had been a girl I could have...) then it just can't be done.

Yeah we love each other yeah we want to be in each others pockets till the day we croak, we feel like we NEED each other like air in lungs (yeah we might've fucked) but there's nothing to do about it so we just need to go on like usual and keep it at that.

Because it worked fine before, the way we were dealing with it. Why try to fix something that isn't broken?

But it was broken.

John wanted more but Paul couldn't give it to him. Paul has a right to how he feels, we can never say exactly what, and he wasn't in any wrong in denying or rejecting John if that's what happened.

But, I've always believed too that Paul always had an unrealistic expectation of his own relationship with John.

Because it's just not fair to expect John to keep on going on like everything is normal and his relationship with Paul and all the feelings and wants that entails are normal.

Not holding similar feelings for a friend is just as valid as holding deeper feelings for a friend and finding you can't stay friends due to not being able to go back on these feelings.

But why couldn't Paul have John, and Linda, and a big family, and John. Why can't he have his cake and eat it to. Why couldn't John have his relationship with Yoko and still have his partnership with Paul.

Because they aren't normal best friends that's why. Their partnership wasn't normal. Even Paul admits to it. Paul had to “make way” for Yoko because in a sense he was John's first girlfriend. Of course Yoko couldn't be secure in her marriage with John if Paul was still in the picture. Even if Paul doesn't understand the depth of meaning behind this because he's preposterous doesn't make it any less obvious. And don't think for a second John would've made it any easier for Linda, and like hell Linda would've put up with it.

So, John was “if we can't be lovers we can never be friends,” and Paul was, “I'll have my cake and I'll eat it to.”

I'm not trying to paint anyone as a villain in this. Both sides are understandable, both sides don't actually want to lose the other, both sides love each other, they just have different perspectives and feelings on the matter.

It's whether these differences can be reconciled and reasonable compromises can be made.

But we're talking about John and Paul and as we know, these differences were not reconciled and they were not reasonable men to be making reasonable compromises. Also they were two men.

John wanted all or nothing. Paul couldn't give all, because it's unrealistic and because Paul probably already thought he was giving John as much of him as he could reasonably give. But it wasn't enough.

If they could have kept each other and their relationship as it was despite getting married, I do believe Paul would have had no problem keeping Linda and his kids in one box, and his special little relationship with John in another box. They were able to do it before with John's marriage to Cynthia, why couldn't the same apply?

We know why. Cynthia was never a real, genuine threat to Paul and the Beatles (but mainly Paul) in the end, John always chose to go off the other boys, to go stay nights over at Paul's home instead of staying home with his wife and kid. She simply didn't interfere.

The many girls Paul screwed around with, while certainly put John on edge, and he hardly liked or got along with any, weren't anything too serious and at that time John was willing to put up with it or he hadn't the capacity to really evaluate his life as it was and his relationship and feelings towards Paul.

But Linda was a genuine threat. She wasn't going away. Paul loved her, she could give him everything. And what could that mean for John, especially if he had been making his feelings known, he was pushing for something deeper, definitive, with Paul? How could John stand a chance.

Yoko was nothing like Cynthia. How John treated her and their relationship was nothing like his last marriage. Paul was no longer the sun in John's universe, it was Yoko, and for once Paul was actually put on edge, similar to that of Stu, if not worse. She was his wife, his partner, a woman, a girl. Since Paul wasn't a girl then what chance did he have to put a stop to it, what right did he have to say anything?

John starting it by bringing Yoko into their sessions as if to make a point. Maybe Paul got the point of he didn't not entirely but maybe he was tired and can't Paul McCartney get a little tired of these games when he's hopped skipped jumped and crawled to try and prove to John each time that yes I love, yes I won't leave you willingly, yes I'll put up with you because I love you and you love me right? We're in this together for the long haul.

Can't go back to compartmentalizing relationships outside of Lennon-McCartney, and it seemed their relationship couldn't remain as it were with wives and children between them. Things were different now, they were different. John and Paul had grown, and while their past comments about sticking together as partners even after the Beatles go bust, even in their old age, is cutesy and sweet and coming from young boys who really didn't know any better but knew they loved each other and loved creating together—what's to become of them now that Pandora's box had been opened.

It's all led up to the point when things begin to breakdown, the band starts to pull apart, relations splinter, and John starts bringing up divorce, divorce from the Beatles, divorce from Paul.

The details we won't be privy to, we can only speculate and theorize and piece the puzzle pieces. But it's such a short time frame for such a massive change from John and Paul's relationship in 1967—almost always found together, John at Paul's home, John and Paul arriving together to the studio, taking walks, dissolving into each other—to how they treated and behaved toward each other in 1968, especially after India.

Without proper communication, without making the effort to confront the reality of what they were to each other and what that might mean, plus the drugs and the alcohol, I'm not surprised these unexplained feelings between them began festering.

I've lost the plot somewhere halfway in the post. But something happened.

The final straw was probably in India. But before India, the tension must have been building, like the calm before a storm. Taking LSD together changed the way they saw their relationship, or maybe simply gave them a more honest approach to it, a much less inhibited understanding of what they meant to each other. It scared Paul, or worried him, but he still liked it, which might've been just as worrisome. John was probably thrilled about it, loved experiencing it with Paul, and it might have enlightened him further on what he actually wants. Though drugs should never be trusted. Then Brian died. The Beatles were shattered with grief. John was beginning to spiral. And then it was 1968, and in February the boys went to India. Everything changed significantly there. John and Paul spent a lot of time alone in one room. They were seen together a lot. John often gazing. Something happened. Something happened and we don't know what but it did. Sex? Maybe, maybe not. A confession? Maybe, maybe not. They come back, worse than for better. John works tirelessly to break Paul's heart and drive him to some sort of reaction. To fight, to stay. Love me love me. Paul couldn't or wouldn't because "if I had been a girl then maybe I could have..." but he wasn't so he they had to make way for Yoko. Paul loves Linda, John loves Yoko. They get married a week apart. John and Paul divorce the Beatles breakup. John really didn't actually ever love Paul and they didn't grow up in the same bed or write eyeball-to-eyeball and hey did you know he loved Yoko because she reminds him of a bloke in drag? She's me in drag. John actually manages to instill some of that insecurity and fear in Paul—about his talent, about who he is on his own, whether or not John ever loved actually him. They fight nasty like bitter exes. Paul is the first to lay down the arms with Dear Friend. John responds with Jealous Guy. They're on and off. Paul continues to try to make the effort to connect with John again, despite John and despite Yoko. The lost weekend happens, a total mystery in itself. Calls are missed and time still passes. John comes to the inevitable conclusion that he still loves Paul no matter how hard he tries to not love him, that he can't escape. John backtracks a lot. They start talking again. They occasionally see each other. They rent a studio to use after the new year in 1981. John is suddenly killed in December of 1980. Paul keeps John's name and legacy alive for years and years and years. Paul reminisces about their shared past like a widower. Their relationship will be compared to a marriage, a love affair like that of Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn, and even soulmates. They are only ever known as brothers, collaborators, and friends.

The greatest songwriting duo that ever was. The lovers that never were.