#And I had to fight that stupid spinning four fingers guy again. HATE HIM. HATE HATE HATE. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

babyflossy · 4 years

Text

long overdue | l.dh

pairing: haechan x reader

requested: yes! sorry this took so long :(

summary: when you move back home after a few years apart, haechan starts to see you in a different light, and eventually the tension between you overpowers your worries about ruining your friendship.

genre/warnings: bestfriend to lovers au, smut (dirty talk, slight overstim if you squint?), fluff

word count: 4k

since your first day of elementary school, donghyuck had been your best friend. on that very first day, he had shared his animal crackers with you on the playground bench when you'd dropped yours, and you'd been inseparable ever since. even when your parents moved you away for the majority of middle school, you talked over the phone, you'd even sent each other handwritten letters through the post until donghyuck got his first phone.

the summer before high school started, your parents decided it was best to move back, and suddenly things were different between you and donghyuck. for one, he'd adopted haechan as a nickname, which you couldn't deny suited him more than you'd ever admit, but those four years had seen a lot of changes in the both of you. changes you couldn't ignore.

that stupid smirk he was always wearing was one. the growth-spurt and the jawline and the attractive shape of his shoulders had just been the things you noticed first, let alone the flirty humour he was so comfortable with. nevertheless, the two of you fell back into your old best-friend ways since elementary school; ice cream on fridays, although now they were at two in the morning instead of the afternoon, burgers at the diner on wednesdays because wednesdays are the worst day of the week.

these thoughts cross your mind once again as the boy in question slides into the chair opposite you in the cafeteria, pushing a tray towards you. "they had fries," is the only thing he says to you before he turns to jaemin and starts talking quietly about how they're going to cheat on their chemistry test. you murmur a thank you, picking a few up and stuffing them into your mouth as you continue your conversation with mark, your replacement whilst you were gone, as hyuck had so elegantly put it.

"are you coming to lucas' party tonight?" he asks, stealing some of the fries in front of you before you can swat his hand away. opposite you, haechan has blocked jaemin's voice out of his head so he can hear your answer, hating the way his heart skips a beat in anticipation. these parties were nothing new, you went to almost every single one, but haechan never got used to the clothes you wore, so much more revealing than the ones you to school. it was undeniable in those moments the way his cheeks flushed at the sight of you.

when he had first noticed these thoughts about you, he had been terrified. you were his childhood friend, how could he think of you as anything more than that? surely it would break the two of you apart if he so much as mentioned it to you? over the years since you moved back, however, the two of you had fallen into a comfortable state of flirtatiousness. he would say something suggestive and you would simply laugh and retort with a quip equally as witty. it was second nature, now; the longing glances, the way your hands brushed together when you walked side by side, the way his heart fluttered whenever you stole his hoodies, but only the ones that still smelt of him. your voice brings him back to the present.

"as if i would miss a party," you laugh, and the sound seems brighter every time to haechan, "are you driving everyone?" when mark shakes his head you raise your eyebrows in question and he nods to jeno, the dedicated sober friend for this week. the one good thing about not having your driver's license is that you were never denoted to that role.

as the school day comes to a close you meet haechan outside the back entrance, ready to walk home. the proximity of your houses meant it was always convenient for you both to walk home together, and it made haechan feel better to see you get home safe, he would never tell you that, though. he stands to the side of the crowd streaming out the door and waves you over when he spots your head in the sea of pupils. you shoot him a sunny smile that has his heartbeat pumping in his eardrums.

"you ready, princess?" the familiar smirk is present and you roll your eyes at the nickname, not allowing him the satisfaction of knowing how much it affected you, "you going home after tonight?" he asks as you break out the school car park and onto the pavement, steps falling into rhythm.

"i'm not sure yet, i doubt i'll be able to sneak back in," you scrunch your nose in contemplation, weighing up your options, "i'll probably tell my parents i'm staying at yeri's or something."

you miss the frown that settles on his face, "and stay at lucas'? alone?" haechan tries not to show how much he doesn't like that idea. lucas was a good person, he knows, but he would worry about you no matter who's house you would stay at. it was just part of your relationship at this point.

"yeah?" you stare at him in confusion, oblivious to the way his eyes flicker away when you try to meet his gaze. "what, you want me to come and sleep with you?" as soon as the words left your mouth you realised the second meaning to them and tried to ignore how your face blazed. it was your turn to avoid his eyes as you tried to pretend you had meant that word choice.

"if that's what you want, babygirl," a wink punctuates his words and heat spreads through you. you roll your eyes at him again.

jeno had, as promised, come to collect you from your house, laughing as you ran through your garden to avoid being spotted by your parents. jeno's car is smaller than mark's, all the seats already taken, but before you can ask where you're supposed to sit he presses on the accelerator. hands come to brace you as you nearly fall and your placed onto someone's lap. you can tell it's haechan from the expensive cologne that overwhelms your senses, the warm hands on your waist maintaining their position even after jeno's driving at a normal speed again.

the drive to lucas' house is short but bumpy and you grasp the seat in front of you to stop the jostling. when the car speeds over a bump haechan's fingers dig into your sides, his forehead falling onto your shoulder. you try and turn around to face him but his hands dig in further, stopping you from moving anymore. just as you're about to ask him what's wrong you feel a hardness pressing against the inside of your thigh and your eyes widen.

the flirty jokes you always exchanged meant something, you knew, but the feeling of him underneath you makes you heat up. you're frozen for a moment before a wave of smugness washes through you. haechan was always the one to make you flustered, and to know you had the same effect on him was something you wouldn't forget.

when the car finally stops in front of lucas' house, the others pile out before you two and you face him, raising your eyebrows. you open your mouth to tease him but he beats you to it, "fuck off." is all he says before he stalks towards the front door. you have to jog to keep up with him.

"really? in the car?" haehan rolls his eyes but the blush on his cheeks and the darkness in his eyes is obvious.

"if you weren't wiggling your ass, this wouldn't have happened–"

"i was not wiggling my ass, it's not my fault you're just needy," he stops walking at your words and spins around to face you, eyes narrowed in a look you assume is supposed to be intimidating. it's kinda hot, though, you think.

"i am not needy!" the laugh you let out only seems to upset him further and he takes a step towards you, "i can show you what needy is–"

"are you guys coming or what?" jaemin shouts from the doorway and haechan’s eyes flicker away from you to glare at him. before you can get another word out he’s walking as fast as he can away from you, shoulders squared of defensively. you can hear the pounding music from the house and you decided to forget about his attitude for the night and have as much fun as you can.

five drinks in and haechan is the last thing on your mind. the harsh liquid had burned at first but as lucas offers you a sixth you don't feel it slip down your throat. he grins and you match it, head spinning and vision blurring, the bassline of the music pounding in your ears. lucas has always been a great host, and he laughs at the way stumble from the kitchen counter he sits on. litres upon litres of free alcohol fills the table in front of you and you reach for a colourful blue bottle that fizzes when you twist the top off. he passes you a red plastic cup and the drink spills over the sides as you try and pour it, lucas' laugh piercing through your head which starts throbbing with the beginnings of a headache.

as if he can sense the state you're in, jeno appears in your line of sight, head shaking disapprovingly. you put up a fight when he takes the cup out of your hand and tips it down the sink but give up quickly when jeno shoots you a stern stare. lucas has already slinked off back to his living room where the rest of the guests reside, hands waving at people as a pretty brunette pulls him to the corner of the room. "you're already drunk, y/n."

"no i'm not," you insist but you can hear the way they slur together. the sound of them is foreign to your ears and they make you giggle, the sixth shot you had taken moments before starting to take effect. when you try and walk towards the drink's table your knees buckle under you and jeno has to catch you to stop you falling to the floor.

"this is why i hate being the sober friend," he mumbles as he sets you down on the floor to prevent you from hurting yourself, pulling your hands away when they reach to pull on his hair, muttering about his hair colour.

"now that, i whole-heartedly agree with," the new voice belongs to johnny, who frowns in amusement at the position you're in, giggling hysterically at jeno's hair. "hyuck's in a similar shape, we just put him upstairs in the spare room."

"can you help me take her up? she can't walk properly." their conversation falls on deaf ears to you and you're staring at everything in the kitchen and yet nothing at all as they both take one of your arms, hoisting you into an upright position. standing up, you last all but five seconds on your own before you put all your weight into them and allow yourself to be carried up the stairs.

true to johnny's word, haechan is sat on the edge of the bed, head between his knees whilst jaehyun crouches to talk to him, rubbing his back with a sympathetic smile on his face.

you call out when you see him, "haechannie!" and his head shoots up at the sound of your voice, all the darkness of his eyes from earlier dissipated.

"y/n!" johnny and jeno place you carefully on the bed next to him and meet jaehyun by the door to watch you. haechan's arm is already around your shoulder, your head planted on his shoulder, unclear if you're passed out already or not.

"where are they staying?" jaehyun asks, eyes not leaving the pair in front of him, grimacing when you bump heads with each other.

"i think here?"

"you really wanna leave them alone like this?" johnny questions as he watches you press kisses to the side of haechan's neck, turning to face him.

jeno considers his options for a moment. leave the two of you alone drunk and clearly ready to omit any rational thoughts, or stay here and try to keep you off each other. or, he supposes, he could bribe someone else to do it for him. yes, that's what he'll do. he'll find jaemin.

once the others leave and you're left alone, hands are immediately on your waist, pulling you into a kiss. haechan rubs his thumbs into the exposed skin of your middle, pressing his lips to yours in such a desperate manner you can do nothing but sit and kiss back. the hands pull you onto his lap and you waste no time threading your fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss, subconsciously grinding your hips down onto him.

"i've wanted to do this for ages," he moans into your neck, fingers hastily skimming over your skin, trying to touch you everywhere at once.

"i told you you were needy," the reminder does nothing to halt his actions, accepting your words with nothing but a hum, hands now making their way up your shirt to the clasp of your bra.

just as he's battling with the article of clothing, the door shoots open again and you fall off his lap and onto the matress. jaemin walks in, snickering at nothing and plops himself in between you on the bed, head falling onto haechan's shoulder.

"hi guys!" the tone of his voice gives away just how much he's drunk already, and you eye haechan over jaemin's mop of blue hair, pouting in disappointment.

a pounding head greets you in the morning and even though you and haechan both remember what had happened the night before, neither of you can stop blushing for long enough to bring it up. so you don't, the fear of ruining your friendship too great a risk for you.

it's a hot summer day and you meet haechan and jeno along with jaemin and renjun at the ice cream shop near your house. it's a brightly decorated new place that offers a mammoth selection of different toppings, which is partly the reason you get bullied when you choose an ice lolly instead. in your defense, it was boiling outside and ice cream is dehydrating.

haechan is cursing every god he knows of as you sit opposite him in the booth, lips wrapped so prettily around your ice lolly. he blinks harshly when you lick the side to stop the juice dripping onto your hand, still talking to renjun. in front of him sits the tub of ice cream he previously been so excited to try and yet now he can't seem to eat it, thoughts elsewhere.

in his head, he curses himself for thinking like this, for thinking about how amazing your lips would feel wrapped around his–

"dude are you okay? you're staring at your ice cream like it holds the secrets to the universe." jeno's laugh cuts through his mind and his cheeks burn. he nods wordlessly, searching for something, anything, else to think of, instead of the blood rushing straight to his dick.

later that same day, when he's back in his bedroom alone, you're the only thought that crosses his mind. he thinks about that night at lucas' party, how you had both been so ready to forget anything holding you back, he thinks about the car ride there, how cocky you had been when he got hard from you sitting on his lap. it was clear you felt the same way, at least, he hoped you did.

in your own bedroom, you're having a similar crisis to your best friend. it hadn't been easy to ignore to way he was staring at you earlier, you had even exaggerated your eating just to tease him. you wondered if he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him. maybe you should ask. no, that was too risky. you needed something less obvious.

"you wanna come over to watch that new movie? i'm bored."

haehcan reads the words over and over again, trying to decipher any ulterior motives you might have, yet again that may just be him wishing for some. he takes a moment to reply, choosing his response carefully, even though he knew immediately he would be saying yes.

"sure, when?"

"tonight?"

once you had confirmed a meeting time, haechan had but two hours to compose himself. he didn't know what to expect, after all, you could have invited him over simply to watch the movie, however much he hoped that was only a cover. a cover for an empty apartment, and some suppressed desires.

when you open your front door, you're already worked up enough. it takes all the self restraint in you to not pounce on the boy in front of as soon as he steps into your hallway. he seems to be having a similar internal debate and you feel the air shift as he drops his bag next to your door, stepping towards you.

neither of you want to make the first move, the tension growing until you can’t stand in anymore, reaching towards him, knotting your fingers behind his neck and pulling him down to you. he closes the gap between you, lips smashing against yours in such desperation you would tease him if you didn’t feel the same way.

“where?” he mumbles against your lips, hands gripping up and down your sides.

“bedroom.” is all you reply before he wraps his arms around your waist, shuffling the both of you into your bedroom and shutting the door with his foot. he pushes you onto the bed and you let yourself fall, hair splaying out underneath you in a way he likes maybe too much.

his body follows yours and he slots between your legs perfectly, hands reclaiming their grip on your middle, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. wherever his fingers slide over, goosebumps rise in their wake, sending shivers through you at their coldness.

your lips return to his and you tilt his head up to deepen the kiss, only breaking away to press open-mouthed kisses to the space under his ear, relishing in the way his breathing hitches in his throat. the kisses trail down his neck to his collarbone, biting down before sucking the area into your mouth. haechan lets out a sinful moan that goes straight to your core.

as soon as you pull you lips away from his body he pulls your shirt over your head, cursing at the lack of underwear, gaze locking in on the swell of your breasts, nipples hard in the cold air. “you had such a hard time taking it off last time,” you reason into his ear, pulling the lobe into your mouth and pulling before continuing, “i thought i would save you the trouble.”

“fuck, baby, you’re so hot,” his words are silenced by the moan you let out when his fingers come to toy with your nipples, rolling one between his digits. you can’t help but arch into him, legs closing around the thigh spreading them apart. it’s clear you’re already so turned on that haechan almost pities you as you grind against his thigh. “so hot, and needy it seems.”

“haechan,” you moan, hands coming to tug on his own shirt, pulling the material over his head and throwing it somewhere else in the room. “i need you so bad.”

“i know, baby,” he cooes, dropping his mouth to envelope your nipple in between his lips, “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry, princess.” the filthful nature of his words make your body heat up, the coldness of fingers now toying with the waistline of your shorts so much more noticeable.

the shorts are removed quickly, your panties following quickly. before you can process what he’s doing, his fingers are spreading your lips apart, lips blowing on your clit to watch the way you clench around nothing. you shiver, hands moving to grip his hair.

after admiring your pussy for a moment, he licks a thick stripe from your hole to your clit, stopping to suck the bud into his mouth, hands coming to press you into the matress when you buck up into him. his tongue laps over your most sensitive spot and he rubs your wetness over his fingers before pushing one into you, moaning at the tightness of your walls. the vibrations of his moan travel straight through your clit and you let out a shameful whine.

after working his finger in you for a few moments, he adds a second, closely followed by a third as he continues his assault on your clit. your moans are loud and non-stop, only stopping to warn him how close you are.

“cum on my tongue, babygirl,” the dirty words dripping from his tongue push you over the edge and you let go with a cry, tugging on the strands of haechan’s hair so hard it nearly hurts him.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” is all you can say as haechan makes his way back up your body, pressing his lips back to yours. on his tongue, you can taste the sweetness of your own cum and you move away from him only to tug his bottom lip in between your teeth, pulling then sucking on it to numb the pain.

you make quick work of his jeans, helping him out of them and chucking them to the floor, shortly followed by his own underwear. from his view, you look stunning, eyes hooded and blown out with lust, lips red and wet from kissing, bruised almost.

he doesn’t say anything as he lines himself up with your enterance, rocking his hips forwards and filling you completely. the pleasure is almost too much for you, still sensitive from your orgasm only minutes prior, eyes rolling back at the way he fills you so well. haechan’s head falls to your shoulder as he gives himself a moment to calm down, biting into your shoulder when he pulls out to the tip.

“you take me so well, baby,” the words are hot in your ear, his breath fanning down your neck, “look at you, all spread out for me.”

you wrap your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself as he pushed back in, moaning into your shoulder at the feeling of you around him, tight, wet, hot. he can sense he won’t last long as he sets a fast pace, chasing his own high.

to make up for his fast-approaching orgasm, he takes your ankle into his hand, pulling your leg up to rest over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to hit every sweet spot possible. the feeling leaves you paralyzed in pleasure, unable to do anything but chant his name.

“i’m gonna cum,” you mumble against him, whining out when his thumb comes down to rub fast circles on your clit.

“fuck,” haechan’s eyes are screwed shut and the sight is so other-wordly beautiful it almost makes you tear up. “i’m cumming.”

his hips stutter and the feeling of his cum filling you, some leaking onto the tops of your thigs, pushes you over the edge. your back arches as you cum over his cock, his hips still easing the both of you through your highs.

when you’ve calmed down, chest heaving as the aftershocks of your second orgasm ripple through you, he pulls out, wincing at the first flicker of overstimulation. he turns and presses a gentle kiss to your ankle, rubbing the fingers of his other hand over your cheekbone, relishing the fucked out expression on your face. he thinks this is the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, so exhuasted underneath him, sweat glistening over your skin.

“that was–”

“long overdue.”

he laughs an agreement out, falling next to you on the bed and lacing your fingers together. “we should watch movies together more often.”

a/n: the only thing i have to say is yikes at this point.

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warmau · 3 years

Text

☆ko-fi au: nostoligic summer romance!au hanbin find other ikon aus here

the sun burns your shoulders and the skin of your heel. you stand on it and bear the pain as you look down at hanbin, whose face is covered by one of those three-dollar nude magazines

"get up"

"can't you see i am asleep?"

the wind blows some small wisps of hair around your face - somewhere in the distance, you hear junhoe chase a beachball down the shore as jiwon yells for him to race back to the rest of your friends

"hanbin, you are not wasting your summer spread out like this, not doing anything. you are not a piece of seaweed."

"you sound like my mother"

you nudge his elbow with your toe

"did you finish your graduate school application?"

"yeah, im working on it right now looking at -"

he lifts the magazine off his face and flips to a random page, turning it around to face you

averting your gaze you make a sound of disappointment

"the deadline already passed, the school is giving you an extension because they know you'll be a great addition to the program. does that not mean anything to you?"

hanbin lets the next gust of wind pull the magazine from his weak grip and float it pathetically to his left

the silence is his answer in a way and search his face, now that you can see it properly, for anything else

his dark eyes are void and highlighted by a shadow of darkness.

his lips are chapped.

the scratch he got from face planting in the public pool's changing room last weak is still sitting on his cheek only half-hidden under a kids bandage

"hanbin, this is your future"

you whisper it - like it's your future too

maybe because somewhere subconsciously buried in both your chests. you both know it is.

"i know"

you turn around and take his apathy as the final stake in the ground

after years of caring about him, of one-sided adoration hidden behind affectionate and worried friendship

you have learned the hanbin is more stubborn than an ox - especially when he gives up

when you find yourself walking home back alone - the sun still blasting an uncomfortable heat onto your skin - you try to pretend the overwhelming feeling of crying isn't itching its way out

i can't help him forever, especially if he doesn't want to help himself

hanbin calls three days later

"do you want to go fishing with me and jinhwan?"

"fishing?"

"jinhwan said he's trying new hobbies."

you are silent for a second, a part of you wants to explode.

what are you talking about fishing! the application asks you to finish an entire song. to show your effort! who gives a fuck about fishing!

the other part of you is dormant. uninterested.

jinhwan is already a successful editor, maybe he can help hanbin find the right path better than i can.

"no thanks."

you hang up first, something you've never done with hanbin

you're both balanced in that sense - you are usually soft and forgiving and never want to hurt anyone's feelings. you just want to keep helping and helping until there's nothing left of you.

hanbin is more strict - people have to prove themselves to him otherwise he cuts them off without a qualm.

you get a text a few minutes later from jinhwan:

are you and your husband fighting?

my husband? i didn't know i finally married that millionaire from my dreams.

haha im talking about hanbin

you purse your lips. everyone in the world wants 'us' to happen.

no. we're not fighting. he doesn't want to go to grad school.

so?

your fingers hover over the keyboard. right, so what? not like it's your business to run your friend's life.

but that's not it. something is so wrong. hanbin will work on music till his eyes and ears bleed. why is it that composing one little thing for this application that is just going to better his life so hard? why is he so against it?

leaving jinhwan without an answer, you throw yourself on your bed and tell yourself that you have to break this habit

you've been putting hanbin over yourself since you were both young

getting in trouble with him when in reality you'd done nothing but try to stop him from doing something stupid

staying up with him when he'd go through bouts of bad insomnia

shoving your own secrets and pain down to comfort him about his own

you have your own life, goal, and dreams

it's your fault for somehow always imagining that hanbin would want to be part of them

"can you please talk to hanbin again."

jiwon, junhoe, and donghyuk take up the space in your car as you pull into the parking lot of the local mall

you turn the key in the ignition, jiwon and junhoe are sitting far apart in the back seat, still managing to look cramped and donghyuk looks at you sympathetically from the passenger side

"im not avoiding him."

"you're totally avoiding him."

again. you want to explode and also say nothing at all. why are there expectations on you as his friend and not the other way around?

"have you guys asked him about his grad school application? you all have your futures planned - and he's lost."

jiwon pops his bubble gum at the worst possible moment and junhoe looks awkward without an answer to come out of his big mouth.

donhyuk puts a hand on your shoulder

"he didn't just give up, you know."

you snort, "it looked that way to me."

opening the door, you step out and tell the little voice in your head that wonders out loud if hanbin needs your help to please shut up

it's two days before the extension deadline. you know this because it pops up as a reminder on your google calendar and you grumble as you delete it.

having his deadlines on my schedule like he's my goddamn boyfriend or something.

you want to enjoy your summer before you go back to school too, so you dig out a big t-shirt and bathing suit to take to the pool

only when you sling the shirt over yourself do you pick at the worn fabric and groan

this is hanbin's isn't it? the coffee stain at the bottom is totally his signature.

someone knocks on the door of your room, half expecting a family member you open it without caution and nearly throw it shut when you see hanbin in the frame

the only thing that stops you from doing so is the look of utter desperation on his face

"hanbin? when is the last time you slept?"

he breaths through his nose and mumbles maybe three or four days ago

you pull him into your room and shut the door, you try to examine him for any other signs of fatigue but he looks otherwise the same

skinny, slightly hunched over and more beautiful than you could ever say out loud in fear of dying on the spot of embarrassment

"is it your insomnia? do you need to go to the doc-"

"i can't compose the song."

you wave your hand to dismiss the sentence, "that doesn't matter right now. you have to take care of your health first and-"

"i can't stop thinking about you."

suddenly irritated with his tone - you snap under the weight of it all

"you cannot blame your inability to finish this application or giving up or not sleeping on me. just because we haven't spoken in a bit-"

"that's not what i meant."

you cross your hands over your chest, you can feel a fire unlike any other of anger lick up your spine

if he is going to pin this on me somehow im going -

"i love you."

"are you crazy?"

you blurt out your words before you really even hear his own. you were expecting him to start spinning some elaborate tale about how not seeing you or you avoiding him had somehow damaged him further

but this is hanbin, and you admit that never has he put the blame on you without you taking it on willingly

so you blink past the initial shock and ask him to repeat himself

he straightens his bad posture, looks at you and sees past the surface level

"i love you. it's making everything else a blur, so i need to tell you."

"you- you should have told me before."

"i thought you'd slap me." he laughs weakly, but it is forced "or that you'd think i was lying to get you off my back about the application."

you soften, your hands uncross and you drop the defensive look on your face

hanbin runs a line from your eyes to your knees

"are you wearing my shirt?"

"i love you too."

the spell of dread that seems to have clung itself into every nook and cranny of hanbin's existence seems to be exorcised when you say those words to him

like a light has entered the part of him that has been pitch black for weeks now

he doesn't kiss you right after you say it, he kisses you two days later when he submits his application with a song he spent thirteen hours on creating

the song is about that light, the kind of easy feeling of being put into the right puzzle with the right person

that's when he kisses you - when he meets the deadline - and you throw your arms around him and the world starts rotating in the right direction again

summer is still left over for you two to enjoy, you rush around the beach with your friends, you go fishing with jinhwan who decides he hates it at some point, and you spend whatever minute you can with hanbin

even if you're with others, your hands are always glued together. you look at him when you think he's distracted. he looks at you regardless, unashamed of the teasing that comes your way

'it finally happened! they realized they're perfect for each other!'

and when you're alone with your legs tangled with his and hanbin's nervous, soft mouth on the slope of your back. that same uncapped love bursts from both of you.

when summer dwindles and hanbin gets an email about his application

he celebrates by pressing you up against the desk and nearly toppling his laptop over

"can i ask you something?" he plays with a strand of your hair after as the sweat sticks you two together "were you so adamant about me getting into grad school because you love me or-"

you rest your chin on his chest and sigh

"yes, but because it'll help you achieve your dreams. and it'll give you a future that's stable. a future that i want for you and-"

you get shy, tucking your face into his skin

"and?"

he asks, but you just kiss him instead.

when it's ten years after - and hanbin has become successful in ways he had never dreamed

you are successful in your own right too

you're equals and your lives are full of each other and your work and everything else

and hanbin realizes when he's looking at rings by himself after work one day what you wanted to say all that time ago

you wanted him to have a good future so that it could tie in with yours

he reminds himself to ask you when he gets home, by what age had you already planned the wedding?

he expects you will stick your tongue out at him when he does, and you do, but he doesn't expect you to cry for half an hour when he pulls the little box out of his pocket.

#nostalgia au #hanbin au #hanbin scenarios #b.i au #b.i scenarios #hanbin #b.i #ikon au #ikon imagines #ikon scenarios #ko fi commissions #slightly suggestive

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slasherbastard · 3 years

Text

Jealous

(gif credit: pearris2swine)

Warnings: implied sexual stuff, angst, swearing Word count: 2047 Notes: i am so uninspired sorry

Another day in Ambrose. You adjusted your dress and stared at your reflection in the mirror and sighed in slight annoyance as the ends of the black dress rode up your legs, you hated dresses and even though it was all for show you still couldn't help but feel gross. You hated the eyes that raked your body and the compliments from the male victims that made you want to vomit but hey, that's just business - and it wasn't just a one person job, Bo took care of the girls and you took care of the guys (and a few girls, which you like to hold against Bo). Of course Bo had to find you the skimpiest looking dress for his mother's funeral, it was amusing to you but sad at the same time. You took a bobby pin off the sink and swiped some hair back and pinned it in place before going back to touching up your makeup when the bathroom door opened and Bo came in.

"Babe? We're going to be late-" You stared at Bo in the mirror and turned to him, he looked stunned. "Oh your body does wonders for that dress." He smirked and walked up to you and place a hand on your side as he pulled you in for a kiss. Before the session could get heated you swiftly pulled away and placed a finger on his lips and smiled.

"We're going to be late." You mimicked his southern accent and laughed as you walked past him, the sound of clicks against tiles followed you with those uncomfortable heels Bo forced you to wear. You made a bet that he was checking out your ass as you walked out and when you glanced back at him, sure enough he was. He followed you out and downstairs.

You both exited the house and got into Bo's truck. Usually the two of you would just walk but you were already late enough and Bo being Bo blamed Lester for the such short notice - even though it was Bo who decided to check his voicemail half an hour before the victims would be arriving. Bo sped down the hill and parked a few buildings away from the church, jumping out of the truck without bothering to lock it before grabbing your hand and practically dragging you through the church doors. The church looked the same as ever, it wasn't like anybody besides the two of you occupied it a few days every month when newer victims entered the town. Bo turned on the stereo and got into place, kneeling down beside his mother's wax covered corpse as you stood beside him with a hand on his shoulder and looked down into Trudy's hazy lifeless eyes, a shiver ran down your spine but you ignored it and continued staring at her just waiting for the church doors to open.

And they did. You and Bo turned around in unison and stared at the shocked face of a girl who quickly shut the door. "Well, that's our cue." Bo stood up and you followed him out to 'greet' the victims, the girl who ambushed the funeral and a guy who looked looked really pissed off. The girl began apologising profusely as you and Bo walked past.

"Look, we need the mechanic guy that redneck told us about."

"That mechanic guy? Well, I'm that mechanic guy but we're in the middle of a funeral-"

"Look, if I pay you extra will-" The man didn't have time to finish before Bo had slammed him against one of the church walls, a tight grip on his shirt as he got close.

"Look buddy, I'm really not having a good day so you're going to wait until this funeral is finished then I'll think about fixing your car. Got it?" The man nodded and held his hands up. Bo let go and walked back up into the church alone while you checked to see if the man was okay.

"I'm sorry about him, he just lost his mother and hasn't been himself lately."

The church doors opened again and Bo stepped out with a more sincere look on his face. "I'm sorry. How about we get that car looked at?" You passed a look onto the man that could be read as 'I told you so' and the four of you began walking down to the station. "So where were you guys headed?"

"Florida, we got family there." The girl spoke in an upbeat voice with a heavy accent, definitely not American but neither you nor Bo could place it. "Our mother's birthday is coming up and we got her the best present." She was really excited, it almost upset you because you knew that she wasn't leaving this place alive. "Oh we never gave you our names! I'm Dakota and that's Matt."

The four of you approached the garage and Bo unlocked the door and the two soon to be wax figures stepped inside and started looking for whatever parts they needed while you and Bo watched them, you were leant up against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest with your eyes on Matt who was stealing his own glances from you with a subtle smile that Bo caught on to as well as you.

While Bo was paying attention to Matt's movements and looks, Dakota was practically staring Bo down like he was the last meal on Earth. When Bo had finally caught on he just winked at her and tried to approach her but she shook her head and pointed to her brother who wasn't even paying attention to what was happening right next to him. She mouthed to Bo something along the lines of "Let's get out of here."

Dakota then walked past and Bo furrowed his eyebrows as he watched her approach the bathroom door and push it only for not to move. "Yeah it's out of order, a'ven't gotten around to fixing it yet but the one up at my place works just fine if you're desperate." Dakota didn't hesitate and nodded. "Alright, won't be too long you two." As Dakota and Bo exited the garage he gave you a small nod and dropped a key into your hand, you looked over at Matt who wasn't really paying attention as he grabbed something off the shelf and drop it, idiot.

You rolled your eyes but walked over. "Let me get it." You knelt down and began picking up the part he dropped. "Be glad this isn't valuable. Bo would've killed you." Matt looked down at you and smiled, awkwardly running a hand through his hair.

"Bo's your boyfriend or something?"

You laughed, a little over exaggeratedly but it could've just come off as you being embarrassed. "No, no, he's my brother in law." You picked yourself off the floor and put the part back onto the shelf and dusted your hands off. "Well, ex-brother in law I guess. That funeral was for my sister, his wife."

"Oh, sorry. I was just wondering because you're really hot."

You really wanted to punch this guy but this was the crap you had to put up with whenever you met the victims, although, you didn't expect to mark "tell-me-about-your-trauma-then-i'll-sleep-with-you" off of your 'Stupid Shit Victims Say Bingo'. So instead you got closer and didn't fix your dress as the fabric began to bunch again, it was so uncomfortable but you knew this all meant nothing so you were good.

"You think I'm hot?" The sentence fell off your tongue with a purr, a part of you realised that those acting lessons and improv classes you took before coming to Ambrose actually meant something. "You know, Bo's gonna be a while. It is quite a walk up that hill." You reached for the buttons on Matt's shirt and he looked over at something before watching you.

"Does that bathroom have a key?" Heat rose in your face as it definitely turned a bright ass red, you could be seductive but you couldn't control exactly how you responded. You broke away from the man and pretended to look for a key as you quietly set the key down on the bench beside you - Matt didn't see you do this, he was busy "messing" around with the buttons on his shirt.

You picked up the key and glanced at Matt before spinning around and holding it up. "Found it-" He was already on you, he'd picked you up and sat you on the bench and a furious make out session began. The key fell out of your hand and disappeared somewhere on the floor but neither of you cared as Matt's lips left yours only to reconnect with the skin on your neck. You didn't want to admit it but he was really good, so much more passionate than Bo but also a lot softer but who cares about Bo right now?

You're only doing this because of Dakota.

Matt began getting adventurous, a hand went up your dress while the other one slipped the sleeves down your arms. You felt devious but you were also worried about how Bo would react since you've never gotten this far with a victim before - and as if time wasn't on your side, you heard the door to the garage open while Matt was too distracted by you to notice Bo was now standing a few feet away from the two of you.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Matt jumped back and you pushed yourself off the bench, readjusting your dress while Bo stared at Matt even more furious than you've seen him before - and that's saying A LOT.

"L-Look man-"

"Don't you fucking L-Look man me!" Bo grabbed Matt by the fabric of his shirt and slammed him into the wall, Matt tried to fight back but Bo just slammed him into the wall again. "Open the fucking basement door, now!" He yelled at you, oh, he was pissed.

You didn't waste a second before opening that door and neither did Bo as he pulled Matt down. You followed behind him and tried to help with keeping Matt down but Bo just pushed you aside as he tied Matt up within seconds. Matt screamed, screamed for Dakota, screamed for anyone who could hear him in this ghost town. "Scream all you want, nobody's gonna hear 'ya." He leaned in close to Matt and smiled before he turned to face you. He didn't say anything, he grabbed you and dragged you out of the cellar and closed the door.

You tried to talk to Bo but he didn't listen. You didn't know where he was taking you and a part of you didn't want to know, you began to struggle as his grip got tighter and you tried to pull yourself away from him and at one point you were successful. Bo looked furious as you pulled away from him and stared up at him with glassy eyes. "What the fuck was that? I leave you alone with a guy and next thing I see is y'all fucking!"

"We didn't have sex! We were just kissing and it went a little too far."

"A little? That's what you call a little?"

"Well you and Dakota were eyefucking right in front of me!" Bo just stared at you before turning away.

"You're jealous." He laughed before raising his voice. "You think that the shit they say to you don't make me jealous either?"

"This was all your idea! You're the one who said that seducing victims would work!" You sighed, taking your time to contain yourself before speaking again. "So where's Dakota now?"

"Vincent's handling her now." Bo paused and stared at you for a second and you swore you saw the light bulb that replaced his brain - if we're being completely honest here since he's got 0 thoughts - light up as he suddenly got close to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. "You know what has to happen now, right?" Bo played his unfair game with you and you lost, either you were about to get punished or you were going to have to watch Bo torture this guy you had no feelings for.

#slasher #writing #horror #bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #i am very uninspired #rushed ending sorry

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uwuwriting · 3 years

Text

My s/o is scarier than yours w/ Dabi, Hawks and Aizawa

Request: Can you do a dabi , hawks and a aizawa reacting to there blind badass s/o going all out on someone who kidnapped Them - @chronosdemon2

Tik tok memes have been stuck in my head all day and I’m very close to saying that “Kill your parents Tracey” to someone unironically….. the thing is they'll DO IT. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: cursing and descriptions of violence, some quirk use, violent quirk use, TW blood

Dabi

-I swear he got caught on purpose .

-He was strong enough to roast anyone that came close to him and he could literally beat them to a pulp.

-But noooo he had been whining about wanting to see you saving his ass after he heard Toga talk about how hot you were when you were angry and how your overly aggressive quirk use, made your eyes ?pop?

-The appeal of murdering someone and finding it hot is beyond you so you just let it slide.

-But McCrispy had other plans.

-He had been acting reckless and made stupid mistakes while out on missions, constantly getting hurt and forcing you to half carry him back to HQ.

-You contemplated leaving him in that rusty, disgusting warehouse since you were sure they were gonna ship him back the moment he opened his mouth to speak.

-He was THAT annoying.

-But alas your heart got the better of you and after two days of letting him be held captive you decided to go down there yourself and pick up your oversized child.

-Dabi on the other hand was starting to get pissed.

-He expected you to come get him the moment you heard he was being held captive, I mean you said you loved him right? You must be worried sick.

-The other idiots wouldn’t bother for a week or so before remotely lifting a finger in an effort to get him back so you would be coming alone.

-What the fuck was taking you so long???

-He could burn this whole place down; he could easily do that but they had given him quite the beating already and some of the staples on his skin came loose making the pain radiating through his body ten times worse.

-He hated admitting that he was truly in pain.

-In this moment though, as blood trickled from his chest and arms he couldn’t deny that his body was way too sore to even move an inch.

-Another thing he hated was the fact that he needed you right now.

-Even though he had done this whole thing because he wanted to see you losing your control a little he never expected to be hurt like this, become so desperate for someone to actually save him.

-He stopped hoping for a savior when he was a child so why is this spark of hope suddenly back?

-Resting his head on the cold wall behind him he tried to get some rest, hopefully he would feel better after he got some sleep.

-As you made your way silently through the corridors of the warehouse you noticed a pile of bloody staples in a far corner, seeing red as you immediately knew where these staples came from or better from who.

-You had no intention of giving Dabi the satisfaction of seeing you fight the dudes that caught him.

-He basically forced you to come pick him up like some drunk idiot who forgot he didn’t have a ride home at 3 am in the morning.

-But now that they touched him?

-Sure he was a dick but he was your dick of a boyfriend and no one laid a hand on him.

-Screams echoed through the halls waking Dabi up from his little exhaustion induced nap, mind hazy from the way his head was spinning.

-With wobbly legs he got up as the screams grew closer and by the time he was at the door it was flinged off its hinges, hitting one of the lackeys that tried getting up.

-Even through the immense pain he was in this fucker smirked.

-There you were, features etched with pure fury, blood splats all over your clothes as he could feel the energy of your quirk radiating through the metallic air.

- “You fucking dumbass.”

- “It’s nice to see you too doll.”

-You hauled him to the safehouse, not uttering a single word on the way back letting him wallow in silence.

-You couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him after you saw how banged up he was.

-Cleaning his skin so it wouldn’t get infected, you got some spare staples to piece him back together *literally*.

-He knew he messed up big time by the way you wouldn’t meet his gaze so he swallowed his pride and forced himself to give a single apology.

- “Sorry.”

- Sighing you kissed his nose, giving him a stern look while wrapping his chest up with a bandage.

- “Just don’t pull anything like that again.”

-You ain't never hearing the s word again.

Hawks/Keigo Takami

-He swears he had everything under control.

-Completely disregarding the fact that he was tied to a chair with all of his feathers gone leaving his wings looking like a newborn chicken.

-Yeah completely under control.

-Doesn’t even know how he ended up here.

-One minute he is on patrol with his favorite person in the world and the next he wakes up in a room with no windows, tied to a very uncomfortable chair.

-Doesn’t even remember if he used his wings at all!

-He is trying to wiggle free when the chair tips and he falls face first on the dirty ass cement floor.

-His knees were scrapped and his nose was smushed, a frustrated groan leaving his lips as he maneuvered himself to lay on his side, brows furrowing as he continued to stare at the grey wall opposite of him.

-The ropes that tied his hands were tight leaving no room for his hands to either wiggle free or untie the knots all together.

-He had to come up with a new plan.

-So what did he do? He started singing.

-No no you aren’t reading this wrong.

-From the macarena to WAP, he knew all the lyrics, his voice bouncing off the four walls of his room.

-His throat was getting hoarse and he was running out of songs when he heard the screams.

-At first they weren’t coherent, just a jumble of words and shouts as quirks were activated, the building shaking a little bit by all the attacks.

-The noise got closer, more voices joined the screaming fest and poor guy was frantically now trying to get his hands or wings or anything really free from the ropes to at least defend himself to whatever is coming his way.

- “WHERE THE HELL IS HE?!”

- “LADY WHY ARE YOU SO MAD I-”

- *slap*

-Oh he recognized that voice.

-That sweet melodic voice that was now cursing the hell out of the guard outside his door like a construction worker on a Monday.

-The door rattled as something rammed into it, the hinges barely staying in place as it was attacked again and again and again until it came off, falling just a few inches away from his face.

-You walked in, eyes immediately locking with his as groans and pained moans could be heard coming from behind you.

-Your uniform had a few bloodstains on it and he could see your chest rising and falling rapidly but as his eyes scanned your figure, everything seemed fine; no injuries, no bruises just a few wrinkles on your shirt.

-His little chicken wings flapped as he beamed at you, a happy coo leaving his lips the moment you kneeled down behind him to untie the knots, giving him a kiss on the cheek *even though you were kinda pissed and did it while mumbling something about him being a stupid idiot with the brain of a penguin*.

-You didn’t bother informing anyone that you got him back, just shooting your sidekick a text that you are going home.

-Anger was radiating from your whole body and Keigo could feel it coming in intense waves.

-He didn’t say a word the whole ride home *cause he was gonna get thrown…..close to the truth*

-Once inside your apartment, you helped him with his uniform and tended to the few scratches and bruises that littered his torso and limbs, resting your forehead on his shoulder once you were done, a tired sigh escaping your lips.

- “I’m sorry. Are you mad at me?”

- “I’m not mad, not at you at least.”

-Wrapping his arms around you he swiftly switched spots, asking for permission silently to help with your bruises.

- “Thank you for coming dove.”

Aizawa Shota

-He could hear you pounding down the streets after them.

-He felt so hopeless right now, body gone limp from some quirk that he didn’t manage to block, being carried like a sack through the streets that he should be protecting while his s/o was spewing profanities and very malicious threats at the people who held him.

-Really it was one of the most embarrassing moments in his whole hero career.

-Worse than that one time he got caught in his own capture tool when he first laid his eyes on you one cold Friday night in the middle of winter.

-As his head bobbed along with his kidnapper’s footsteps he caught small glimpses of your form, anger etched on every single crevice of your face, eyes hard as they stayed glued to the person that held him, your quirk letting out small thrums of energy that gave away your anger.

-You could barely keep it at bay right now.

-You couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to your husband.

-He literally got snatched in front of your eyes.

-You had no time to react as he was hit by that bastard’s quirk and you saw his body fall limp.

-At the mere thought of the attempted kidnapping your quirk let out a stronger thrum sending some trash cans crashing to the ground from their spots on the side of the alleyway.

-Your lungs burned and your thighs were beginning to hurt like hell but you weren’t about to let them get away.

-Gripping the railing of a low balcony, you hauled yourself up, quickly making your way to the roof and continuing your persecution from above.

-One by one you began taking the idiots out, the higher ground giving you a more open look on them and allowing you to use your quirk safely.

-Soon enough the only one left was the one who was holding your husband who also happened to run into a dead end, whimpers leaving his lips as he saw your figure on the building’s roof.

-By the time your feet touched the pavement, the villain was begging you to let him go that he and his crew won’t pull something like this again.

-In one swift motion he was knocked unconscious falling next to your husband who was beginning to gain the ability to move again.

-With a groan you helped him to his feet, searching for any further injuries before cupping his cheek and giving him a kiss, engulfing him in a hug right after.

- “I thought I would lose you.”

-He hugged you close, burying his face in your hair as siren’s started echoing off the walls of the alley.

- “I’m here, I’m alright.”

-He felt your body slightly shake whether that was caused by the shock and the worry you just went through or the overuse of your quirk, he didn’t know.

-What he did know though was that you deserved to be pampered even more than usual tonight.

-Giving you another kiss he gently pushed you off him, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the “crime scene”, taking the familiar road home.

-That night he holds you a little tighter than usual.

TAG TEAM AY:

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pogueshomecoming · 3 years

Text

like to be you - jj maybank x reader

requested? nope

description: based on the song by shawn mendes and julia michaels, kook!reader and jj get in a fight about his dad and it reiterates that their lives are very different

masterlist, taglist, and request links are in my bio :)

warnings: mentions of abuse, descriptions of cuts and bruises, angst, arguments

word count: 2.5k

The chateau's door opens with a creak, and your attention is pulled away from the conversation Pope and John B are having. JJ stumbles in, barely able to walk. You're on your feet in an instant.

"JJ?" John B follows after you, Pope trailing behind him. JJ makes it four more steps before he collapses to the ground, whimpering in pain. His hair falls out of his face to reveals his bloody and bruised face.

You fall to your knees right next to him, scooting closer so his head can rest in your lap. He groans and tries to curl into himself when you lift his shirt to see if he's bleeding anywhere else. "JJ, what the hell? Do we need to go to the hospital?"

Concern fills your voice, but JJ shakes his head. "I need a shower. I'll be fine tomorrow."

JJ goes to sit up, and you have to keep your hands pressed to his back as a guide. There's no way he'd be able to stand in the shower alone.

"Was this your dad again?" Pope crouches in front of the blonde boy, taking in the bruises on his shins that looked way too similar to a boot's imprint.

"Yeah." His voice is weak, strained from using his energy, and probably screaming at his father. Your blood boils. At what point will JJ stop going home? What would it take?

"I'll help you into the shower." You mumble, trying not to show your anger because it's not JJ you're mad at. JJ tries to smile but ends up wincing, and the boys help him to his feet. John B and Pope help your boyfriend into the bathroom while you grab fresh towels from the bag of laundry you brought over this morning.

He's sitting on the toilet lid by himself when you enter the bathroom, his shirt already on the floor. You can see two more cuts on each side of his ribcage in addition to the busted lip and eyebrow. The bruise on his hip is the worst. Usually, his blood has dried by the time he gets here, but it looks like he's reopened the wounds.

"God, JJ. I'm so sorry. I know it hurts." You shut the door behind you and quickly turn on the shower. It's not long before steam starts to fill the room.

"Are you going to get in with me?" JJ's voice is soft as he undresses his lower half.

"If that's what you want." He nods, and you start to undress, too, letting him use you as a crutch once you're both ready to get in.

The silence between you two isn't uncommon. JJ knows there's not much for you to say when he's like this because he knows you hate it. You hate seeing him hurt.

You use a washcloth to scrub around the cuts gently while he watches the water turn red and swirl around the drain. One of them could need stitches, but you know he won't listen. JJ uses sleep as a cure-all.

He leans against you when you've finished cleaning his wounds, letting his forehead press into the crook of your neck. His fingers are tracing patterns in your back.

"Don't you think it's time to get out of there, J? You could move in here permanently." Your voice is quiet, and the sounds of the shower would've drowned it out if JJ wasn't skin to skin with you.

"What do you mean?" JJ pulls back, so now his hands are on your elbows.

You sigh, not sure if this would be a touchy subject in JJ's mind. "Like... this happens every time you go home, so you could not go home anymore? I don't like seeing you hurt for no reason."

"Y/N, I avoid my father as much as possible already. It sounds a lot like you're telling me it's my fault if I keep going back there." JJ furrows his brow and shakes his head, indicating that he's bothered by your words.

"No, no, of course it isn't your fault. I know you already avoid him. I just thought that maybe it's time to move away from that situation and separate yourself."

JJ is quiet, and you look at your feet, knowing you've upset him, and it's too late to take it back.

"I'm here enough. John B isn't responsible for me. It's fine, Y/N. I'll only go when he's not there from now on." JJ squeezes your arms, trying to be reassuring, but you've still got that pit in your stomach, and you've never been good at keeping your mouth shut.

"What are you talking about? John B would love for you to stay here, even more so if it meant you were staying out of danger. My family has a guest house. If you're worried about bothering JB, I can-"

"I'm a Pogue, Y/N, not a Kook. Your parents wouldn't let me stay, and I don't want to. That's not how this works. I'm not taking a handout. We've talked about it before. Not everyone wants what the Kooks have, alright? Can we drop it?" His voice rises, having more of a bite as his anger grows, and he lets go of you.

"Hey, this is not about me being a Kook. I hate when you throw that in my face, and you know it. This is about you always going back there because you think you deserve what he does to you!" The words hang in the air after you've spoken them. The only sound between the two of you is the water running. You're sure that your friends heard the argument through the paper-thin walls.

JJ visibly falters. His shoulders slump, and he starts to fiddle with his hands as he turns his back to you. After a moment, his body begins to shake as he holds back tears. You're not sure if there's anything you can say to make it better.

"Wait, J, I-" You stop talking when he turns around abruptly.

"I can't, okay? I can't leave him there. He thinks the groceries magically appear in the fridge. He thinks that he's getting paid leave from work. I work my ass off to provide for him. What happens when I stop? He'd fucking die, and then it's my fault. After everything he's done to me, I hate him. I fucking hate him, but I can't leave him."

JJ doesn't wait for a response. Instead, he gets out of the shower. You're shocked. He's never walked away from an argument. Sure, you've fought before, but it never ends with one of you leaving.

You wait until you hear the bathroom door shut to turn the water off, and then you take your time drying off. There were no clothes for you to change into, so you make sure your towel is tucked tightly before you exit the bathroom.

John B, Pope, and Kie are sitting on the couch. Kie must've arrived in the last few minutes, but the looks on their faces confirm that they heard everything. They try to look away once they realize you're looking at them, but it's too late.

"Goodnight, guys." You say weakly, feeling like you're going to cry any second now. It feels stupid to cry. JJ is the one who's hurt, but you don't want that for him anymore.

In response, they all mumble goodnight, and you turn on your heel to enter the guest room.

JJ is already in bed, the covers are pulled to his waist, and he's facing away from the door. The bandages and alcohol pads and trash that comes with that is on the dresser, so you know he's already done what you usually do for him.

Both of you are silent as you move around the room to get dressed. With each step closer, you start to dread getting into bed. When you have nothing else left, you ease in as gently as possible after turning off the light.

You didn't imagine the bed to feel so cold, and it triggers the tears you'd been holding back for JJ's sake. If he notices, he doesn't do or say anything. You lay on your back and look at the ceiling, letting your tears fall past your ears and into your hair.

The relationship you have with your father is hugely different than JJ's with his. You've never been scared to go home, you've never flinched from someone's touch, and you've never had to yearn for a parent's love and affection. The two of you live very different lives.

"I don't want to go to bed like this," JJ says softly. You hear the motion of the blankets before you feel the warmth of his hand enclosing your wrist.

"I'm sorry, J. I don't even know why I'm crying. I'm not that one who got hurt. I'm so-"

"Tired. We're both tired. I'll never judge you for crying. There's nothing left to say. Let's call a truce."

It wasn't an outright acceptance of your apology, but it was close. There were still more things you needed to say, but JJ is right. You're both tired, and it's time to go to sleep. For now, you'll stay in this weird in-between spot where you don't know if he's still upset or not.

"Yeah, sounds good." You choke out, managing so sound somewhat natural.

JJ doesn't retract his hand, but he doesn't move any closer, leaving you to fall asleep grasping onto the little warmth you're getting from him.

You wake up before JJ. Somehow your internal alarm clock is always set for earlier in the morning when your anxiety is high. He's snoring softly next to you, the bruises on his face already looking better.

JJ rolls from his side to his back, the covers falling off of him to reveal that he's almost bled through his bandages. You scoot out of bed as quietly as you can.

After leaving the room to brush your teeth, you come back with a damp washcloth and gather the medical supplies from the dresser. You start to tend to JJ's wounds while trying not to wake him up. What is he going to say when he wakes up? Is he still going to be upset with you?

It was naive of you to think your anxiety would go away overnight, but you're not sure you want to have another conversation about it. JJ stirs before you're ready, and his pretty blue eyes look at you curiously.

He said there wasn't anything left to say last night, but there was and still is. However, when you make eye contact, all of it goes out the window. You blank.

"Thanks for cleaning that up, baby." JJ smiles sweetly. You're head starts spinning with possibilities. Is he going to act as if nothing happened? Will he throw it in your face randomly to make you feel worse about it? Nothing that JJ has ever done previously would lead you to believe he'd do that, but it's where your mind takes you.

"Do you want to go to the beach?" That always cheers both of you up, but you can't tell if you're offering for him or yourself.

"Sure, sweetheart. It's too cold to swim, but I bet our spot will be open."

There was a specific tree on the beach that you and JJ liked to lay under sometimes. It had the perfect amount of shade and sun because you got cold too quickly, and JJ the opposite. Out of all of the memories you have, those are the fondest.

By the time you get to the beach, JJ still seems as normal as ever. You hadn't expected him to wake up screaming or yelling, but you did think he'd say something else—anything to make you feel like he didn't hate you for what you said would be nice.

JJ pulls you down onto the blanket with him to assume your regular cuddling position, but it's modified slightly with his bandages. "You don't have to act like I'll break, Y/N. I've survived a lot of things so far, so accidentally putting your hand over my wound isn't going to do shit."

"Alright, alright." You allow yourself to giggle despite your mind telling you that he's angry with you.

The two of you trail off into silence after a few moments of laughter, both deep in thought. You nervously pick at your nails, wondering what JJ is thinking about. Does he have a speech he's rehearsing in his head? Is he waiting for the right moment?

"Y/N, how could you? You didn't-"

"I'm sorry, JJ. About what I said, I didn't mean to come at you like that. You should still be mad at me, I-" you start to ramble, but JJ cuts you off.

"What? I was going to say you didn't give me my good morning kiss. You always do. Are you still thinking about the fight? It's fine, Y/N, really. Look at me," JJ shifts so you can turn to face him.

"It was harsh, but I needed to hear it. In some ways, I think you're right. Sometimes I blame myself for my mother leaving, which is why he's the way he is, so it comes full circle. I know that's fucked up, but it's getting better. I'm getting better. Why didn't you tell me you were still worrying about it?"

You have to ignore your heartbreaking at his words to be able to talk. JJ has let his father into his head, but you can imagine how hard it would be not to.

"I don't know. You stopped the conversation last night, and I didn't want to push anymore than I already did. I figured I'd wait until you were ready to talk about it, but I've been anxious all morning thinking about it." You take a deep breath.

"Sometimes, when we fight, it scares me because I feel like I'm going to lose you a little each time. We get so caught up in the moment, and I just... We're so different. I don't know what it's like to be you."

JJ places his hands on either side of your face, and at the same time, he wipes a tear that has fallen onto your cheek.

"You can always tell me what's inside of your head, alright? No matter what you say, I won't love you any less. You're right, you don't know what it's like to be me, but I'm in the same boat. Our differences aren't what defines us, right? We've said that since the beginning." JJ reassures you by giving you a quick and sweet kiss.

"I love you, J."

You shove yourself into his chest, and maybe you miss the wince on JJ's face, but he doesn't say anything because he doesn't mind. The weight you've been carrying on your shoulders since he left you in the shower last night is gone.

But you might disagree with JJ. Your differences are what makes you right for each other. JJ is the one that pulls you out when you're stuck far in the depths of your mind, and you're the one who cleans his cuts and bruises. You don't understand what he goes through, but you're still there to pick up the pieces, and that's all that matters to him.

jj maybank taglist + mutuals: @wlwkie , @jjjmaybank , @shawnssongs , @hopelesswritingxd , @newsiestrash123 , @millie-753 , @thatsonobx, @jjtheangel , @obxkie, @baileysb1tch, @ohbx, @babysbestlife , @psychicforest , @fanficscuziranout , @maebanks , @diverdown06, @pogue-writings , @maybankdreams , @thelocalpogue , @maybe-maybanks , @dpaccione , @teenwaywardasgardian , @extratragic , @pixelated-pogues , @kitluvs1 , @a-brooding-bird , @ilovejjmaybank , @damonsalvawhore27 , @beth-winchester21 , @danicarosaline , @sunwardsss, @outerbanksbro , @collecting-stories , @yelyahryan , @brightcosmos , @ssprayberrythings , @abbiesthings , @sadcupofcoffee , @millenialpoems, @niya-savage , @queenofthepouges , @poguepunk , @perkeusjackson , @fanofmany , @ultradolans , @love-chx , @outerbankslut , @cognacdelights , @alternativehp , @dmonchld , @bricksatanakinswindow

#jj maybank #jj maybank fic #JJ Maybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks fics #obx #outer banks imagine #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank request #jj maybank outer banks #obx jj #jj x reader #jj obx

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hawkinsindiana · 4 years

Text

i want to talk about it

ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER TWO OF ELEVEN (?)

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 2.8k

a/n: you asked for it! guess what - the anGST IS BACK!!!! i have also decided not to include gifs until we get to s3 content okay? okay. enjoy!

masterlist

You think about that night often, even though there have been plenty of others like it since. It was the breath of fresh air you so desperately needed. And while your relationship with Steve has made certain aspects of your life better, not all of them are so positively affected.

The lump that forms in your throat every time you lie to your baby brother is especially difficult to swallow. You wonder if it will get any easier. Hopefully you won’t have to keep up the charade in front of the kids for much longer.

Especially now that Mike knows, that little shit.

It had only been four days since Steve had suggested the idea of keeping the status of your relationship a secret. Four days. You still can’t believe it.

The group was in the middle of a rather rousing round of Monopoly; Will had just sworn never to speak with Lucas again after a painful double mortgage incident. Steve, bankrupt from Max’s hotels and exhausted by their shenanigans, decided to leave a bit early. In traditional fashion, you made sure to see him out.

Moments after the pair of you disappeared from the room, Dustin sent the Wheeler boy to grab extra sodas from the fridge in the garage. You’re lucky Mike closed the door when he entered; no one else heard him shout in surprise when he witnessed Steve give you a quick kiss goodbye.

Your face flushed beet red in record time. Steve could’ve sworn his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. Mike has a habit of catching him in the act.

Thankfully it didn’t take much to convince Mike not to tell the others. He could tell how much it would mean to you to keep this quiet - a part of him understands why. It also helps that the boy would never want to disappoint you. Like all of the kids, they would hate to be the cause of grief in you.

But keeping this from your brother is the toughest part. Mike knows first hand just how much Dustin wishes you two were together. It’s unfortunate he hasn’t figured it out himself yet; Mike thinks he probably never will.

But of course, now that’s the least of your worries.

Billy Hargrove gets bored easily; it explains much of his behavior. When something, or someone, becomes a bit too dull for his taste, he feels the need to stir the pot. You are no exception.

You’ve learned to ignore his posse’s comments in your direction when they walk by; Tommy’s sting a bit more than the rest. Normally, you’d love to fight back and embarrass him - it’s one of Steve’s favorite things about you. But now, Billy’s involvement makes you think twice before saying anything. After what happened at the Byers’, you never know what it could be that sets him off.

Considering what happened last week, you’re certain something similar could occur again.

Billy cornered you at your locker, spewing his usual comments. You were unnerved by his presence but able to keep your emotions in check as he leaned in closer; it was impossible not to catch the stench of cigarette smoke off his breath as he spoke. The hand he had broken months prior twinged in pain.

In a moment of rage fueled by your silence, Billy fisted the collar of your sweater in his fingers. The fabric tightened against your neck as he said the damning line, “I could do it again, you know.”

The delicate knit of the yarn was stretched when he finally let you go. You threw that top into the dumpster as soon as you got home. You couldn’t bear to look at it anymore.

Steve wishes that you’d let him do something about Billy; you’re too frightened about what could happen if Steve confronted him. You would never risk letting your dream become a reality.

All that kept Billy from killing Steve that night was Max, had she not intervened. You’d thank her everyday if you could.

Even though the little moments you do get to spend with Steve help calm your mind, your experiences from November still hang over both of your consciences. Steve just tries his hardest to make sure your conversations are Upside-Down free. He wishes you both could be normal teenagers again without these traumatic experiences haunting your every move. He misses not having to worry about that.

Looking for a way to blow off some steam and relax, you suggested a horror movie marathon to the kids. Since the final semester of your senior year began, you haven’t been able to spend as much time with them as you would like.

Max’s face lit up when you mentioned the idea; Dustin scowled. He hates scary movies. It seems ironic to you considering everything the group has been through.

After sitting through Alien, the red-headed girl’s favorite, everyone decides to take a quick break before continuing. You and Steve are goofing off with Lucas and Max in the kitchen as the microwave’s working on the popcorn. Max just smiles as she watches you two interact.

The pair of you are approaching almost three months of your relationship. In that time, your comfort with each other has grown exponentially. While you don’t express your feelings for each other in front of the kids, it becomes very apparent to Max how drastically different your dynamic is compared to when she first met you both.

“I’m really glad you guys were able to sort things out,” She says before grabbing another bowl from the cabinet.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, the smile on your face drooping slightly at her words, exchanging a quick glance with Steve before speaking again, “Sort out what?”

Lucas continues before she can, leaning back against the counter, “Just... back when you guys were fighting. It must have been for something dumb if you got over it quick.”

That has Steve’s mind spinning for the rest of the night.

In your giddy excitement with one another, you both had completely forgotten about what happened between you two that week. It all seems like background noise compared to what followed.

But whatever it was that had you angry with him, it must not have been something dumb, he thinks. Not with the way you reacted.

The kids decide to move the activities over to the Wheelers’ after finishing The Shining - and you’re thankful they do. You and Steve don’t know how much more of Dustin’s unnecessary screams you could take.

“It’s not even that scary!” Will says as he opens the front door, turning back to your brother as the rest of the kids file outside. You throw Max’s coat to her before she forgets it.

“Did we watch the same movie?” Dustin answers as he pulls his backpack over his shoulder, his face stunned as he looks between you and Steve, “And he’s the one who looks like Danny Torrance!”

“Alright, alright,” Steve grabs the door from Will and he ushers them out, “Go on, get out of here.”

Mike runs back before it’s shut, looking over his shoulder to the others to make sure he wasn’t followed. His eyes peer through the crack as he steps onto the porch, a smug grin over his features as he lowers his voice, “If you two do anything weird in there-”

“Oho, that’s enough out of you,” Steve slams the door before Mike can continue, making an effort to lock it immediately after.

Your muffled laughter reaches his ears, turning to see where you’ve disappeared behind the couch to grab a pillow you’d thrown to try and silence your brother.

“You think his antics are funny, huh?” Steve asks, placing his hands on his hips as you pop back up, your eyes sparkling, “Clearly I enjoy them much more than you do.”

“He’s lucky we haven’t killed him yet.”

“Steven!”

“What?”

You scoff lightly at him, tossing the pillow onto the couch before plopping yourself down, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Steve’s expression flattens as you look away from him, gaze not focused on anything in particular. The thoughts he’s been having about the rough patch you two experienced begin to overwhelm him. The unanswered questions regarding your aggression towards him make him anxious - Steve can’t stand it when you’re unhappy with him.

It comes out before he can stop himself.

“You know, uh, what Max and Lucas mentioned earlier? About us?” Steve’s words make your brow furrow, confused as to why he’d bring it up. That seems like something he’d want to keep in the past, “Yeah, why?”

“I mean-” Steve exhales before sitting down next to you, his knee grazing yours, “I was mad ‘cause I thought that you’d been the reason Nancy...”

He stops for a moment, shaking the memory from his mind. He has no desire to bring his previous relationship into this one, “I don’t know, I guess you never mentioned why you were angry.”

He just shrugs after trailing off, eyes focused on the carpet; Steve’s not able to look directly at you while he admits it, “It just doesn’t make any sense to me, that’s all.”

Your jaw clenches as you remember the cause of your anger and how it transformed you. It seems so stupid now, that his behavior towards you meant that he’d rejected your feelings. Turns out, it couldn’t have been further from the truth.

You push those thoughts away; you’re not interested in furthering the conversation any more.

“It’s not important,” You state plainly, also not able to meet his gaze, “Lucas was right, it was dumb.”

Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, you re-adjust on the cushion, “Let’s forget about it, yeah?”

Steve shakes his head - he’s quickly growing tired of you dodging his questions, “No, I want to talk about it. I want to know.”

“Why do you care so much? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Because I was an asshole to you and you just…” He trails off as he leans away, arm draping over the couch, “You just took it! You accepted it like nothing had ever changed, like nothing ever happened between us.”

You huff, back pressed against the arm rest, voice quiet, “Damn right nothing ever happened.”

You freeze, surprised at your own comment. You didn’t know that you were still holding onto aggression directed at his obliviousness to your true feelings. But Steve doesn’t catch on, he only grows more concerned at your response, “What the hell are you talking about?”

You take a deep breath, thankful that he didn’t seem to understand, effectively saving your ass from whatever this revelation could’ve caused. The room is silent as you move to the edge of the seat, “Like I said. We should forget about it.”

Steve scoffs, his fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose as you stand up, “I can’t believe you’re not going to tell me.”

You don’t turn to look at him as you take a few steps, instead opting to push both hands through your hair as you answer, “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Maybe I do! What - is it so horrible that I want to know what made you mad at me?” He raises his voice and you turn towards him, desperately trying to calm your temper, “Steve-”

“So we’re keeping secrets now too, huh?” Steve says as he gets up too, arms crossed over his chest, “This whole thing’s under wraps anyways, why not bring that into the relationship? What a great idea. You’ve really outdone yourself this time, truly-”

“Oh my God, Steve-” You interrupt him, growing so impatient of him that you don’t even register what happens until it does, “Fine, you want to know?”

“Yes!”

“I thought that Nancy told you everything! Everything about how I felt.”

Your lip gets caught between your teeth as you cast your focus to the ceiling, hating how you can never seem to keep your emotions bottled up anymore - you used to be good at that.

“I must have been more obvious than I wanted because she had figured it out. That night at Tina’s party was when she finally felt confident enough to confront me about it. And I just…” You swallow the lump in your throat as you feel the tears start to burn behind your eyes. There was a reason you wanted to keep this away from him.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. I screamed at her, Steve. I just screamed at her,” Your tone softens as you remember the words that you spit at her, guilt flooding you all over again, “I was so sick and tired of watching her pull away from you when you deserved someone who actually cared about you and I was right there! The whole fucking time!”

“I thought that she told you about how I felt,” You mutter, shoulders slumping with embarrassment and shame, “I thought she told you and you had decided to reject me.”

Steve used to think that seeing you bloodied and beaten by Billy was the saddest he’d ever seen you. But seeing the look on your face as you realize what you’ve said - he’s not sure which one is worse. And it’s all because of him.

He should have listened to your protests; you were right.

Steve doesn’t know what to say.

Even though it’s only been official for a short amount of time, getting to be with you has been an absolute joy. It’s been perfect knowing that the sparks are mutual. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it again if they weren’t. Steve can tell there’s something different about why being with you feels so amazing and terrifying at the same time.

But the idea that you’ve kept your feelings locked away and hidden from him longer than he thought? That brings about a pain in his chest that’s greater than he’s ever had before.

“How - um, how long had it been since…” He doesn’t know how to finish - he’s not entirely sure if he wants to. He’s not sure he wants to know.

One tear hits your cheek, then another, “A year.”

Even though it’s whispered, it’s enough to make him dizzy. He sinks back onto the couch, his head in his hands as the information overwhelms him. The entire time that Nancy was lying to him, you were right by his side.

You heard everything.

He can’t believe that you just swallowed it - all the times that he gushed about her to your patient soul, telling you the plans on how he was going to ask her to the junior prom, mentioning how he thought she was the one for him. He can’t take it.

You still can’t look at him, it would be too much. Instead, you opt to pick at the sleeves of your hoodie, waiting for Steve to finally address what you admitted.

You grow impatient yet again, emotion scratching your throat, “Please just… say something.”

It seems like hours pass although it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.

“I can’t do this,” The sound of Steve’s keys being pulled from his pocket catches your attention. Your eyes finally snap up and he’s already moving quickly to the exit, and you brush hair from your face before following him, “Where are you going?”

“I don’t-” He pauses as he pulls on the handle, briefly looking over his shoulder in your direction - still not able to directly catch sight of you, “I don’t know. I just need to think.”

The photos on the wall shake as he slams the door; you force your face into your palms.

It’s ruined, you’re sure of it. He can’t even be in the same room as you anymore. Maybe you’re not as good at keeping secrets as you thought.

Steve’s filled with regret as soon as his fingers leave the doorknob. What the hell is he thinking?

His mind quickly flashes back to the argument you two shared that night on the train tracks; he had forgotten all about it until now.

“You’re the one who caused this mess in the first place.”

His jaw clenches.

“This whole time, I knew you never liked her.”

His exhale stops short.

“You feel so threatened by her that you had to do something about it!”

His stomach churns.

The thought of you interpreting those words as further evidence of his rejection completely fills him with regret.

And then Steve remembers how willing you were to separate from him - it hits him that you didn’t believe he’d ever see you as anything other than a friend. The very notion of him being aware of your feelings had you shutting yourself away from him completely.

He has to go back in. He can’t leave you to believe those things. And although he doesn’t think apologizing would be enough this time, he at least has to give it a shot. For your sake

Steve’s about to shove the door back open when it locks from the other side. You’ve accepted that he’s not coming back in. Why would he want to?

A shallow breath gets pushed through your lungs; it doesn’t help to calm you. At he sound of the engine of his car running, a whimper passes your lips. You’re certain you’ve lost him again.

—

taglist: @stevebabey / @mrsukai / @hannarudick / @crazycookiecrumbles / @hellisateenageheather / @alewifex / @l0ve-0f-my-life / @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 / @daddystevee / @thecaptainsgingersnap / @let-the-imaginationflow / @asianravenpuff / @im-a-stranger-thing / @mikariell95 / @pilunb / @harringtherin / @royalestrellas / @ultrunning / @buggs177 / @poutfull / @yoheyyosup / @duchessdaisybat / @janieavalos / @sassisaluxury / @beththebubbly / @i-bitch-you-bitch / @captainstilinskis / @juliebean247 / @im-nada / @whatabeautifulsurrender / @rexorangecouny / @pass-me-jeez-it / @ahoy-scoops-troop / @halefirewarrior / @jointhehunt67 / @peanutem / @ketchuplukehemmo / @m-a-r-i-n-t-p / @fangirl485 / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x / @elite4cekalyma / @marjoherbo / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass / @alafolieee / @mochminnie / @phantomalchemist / @dustyblueboo / @alonewolfsblog / @ggclarissa / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long / @bippityboppitybabe / @readinthegarden12 / @bakugouishusbando / @stxtch72 / @random-girl-army / @wisdaemon

wow there are so many of you

if you wanna be added to the taglist (of if you’ve changed your url), just lemme know!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x henderson!reader #st fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #st imagine #my writing #almost paradise

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

Oh okay well Danny tells Ryan that they’re “going to talk in the morning” at the end of the Was it good? peice and I would like to see that. Maybe Danny telling Ryan some of the things that happened to Nate and making him super uncomfortable? Idk I like Danny protecting Nate it’s interesting

CW: Referenced past torture and pet whump, referenced alcohol use, brief reference to dissoci@tion

Follows on Was It Good?, takes place the next morning

Ryan wakes up with maybe the third serious hangover he's ever had to find a glass of water and a couple Tylenol on the side table next to the bed.

His hip hurts, a strange tight ache over his old tattoo, and he feels like his mouth is full of cotton and his head has been used as a bowling ball. Fuck. He never gets hangovers - it's the family blood, Dad says, with a hint of his brogue and a slight smile. Just how the Michaelsons are.

Their liquor doesn't touch us the same, Patrick had said when Ryan asked, tipping a glass to him, eyebrow raised. That's why I import the liquor my own people once made.

It had made perfect sense at the time. Now, though... what people? The Michaelsons have all left Ireland. They're all here now.

In any case, it'd been his dad's shit he'd been drinking last night, and too much of it. The world's faint queasy spin tells him that, even if last night is still a mess of nonsense impressions slowly coalescing back together.

He takes the pills and drinks the water after, ignores the uneasy twist of his stomach, and pulls on a t-shirt, soft as second skin, and wanders out in that and his boxers.

Danny is up before dawn, every day, and today is no exception. His brother is sitting at the kitchen table, coffee in hand, staring out the window over the kitchen sink at the fading depth of night, finally giving way to pinkish sunrise.

When Ryan enters, those wide blue eyes move immediately to him. They are not soft, or sad, or lost - they are precisely focused, and the skin under the red of his scars is pale, nearly colorless under a smattering of freckles. Both of them pretend Danny's whole body doesn't still twitch with a need to slip to his knees on the floor as soon as someone enters. "You took, um, the pills?"

His voice is soft. And still Ryan feels unsettled, something between uncertainty and guilt. "I did, yeah." He moves to pour himself a cup of coffee, the peppermint mocha creamer he'd bought changing dark brown to silky tan. Not that you need much, with Danny's coffee.

Ryan could half believe in magic, really, just from seeing how Danny didn't seem to do anything different but his coffee is still always the best.

Danny's eyes are still on his back. He can feel the weight of them, settled there. His brother, who flinches and murmurs to himself and looks at anything but whoever is talking to him... staring. Directly.

He turns slowly around, and as he does the memory of his brother's voice slips in from the night before. Strong, and even. Angry. I want to talk about this in the morning. A Danny he'd thought had died up in Canada, resurrected, reborn to defend...

Ryan's stomach drops as the whole night, fuzzy but mostly there, slots into place. "Oh, fuck," He whispers.

Fingers around Nate Vandrum's neck, closing tightly, Nate's green eyes wide and lost in terror, calling him... what?

Pl-please, Ashley, please-

Danny snorts, glancing away from him and then back again. His hands are closed around his coffee mug so hard his knuckles are white under the scars there, too. "Not too, um, blackout drunk, then," Danny says. There's a wry sarcasm there, something so familiar and so lost to Ryan that it hurts to hear now.

This is how his brother sounds, a little irritated, cynical. Not weak and soft and pliable, bending to suit whatever he thinks he has to be to stay safe. This is the brother Ryan has lost, not quite resurrected maybe, but maybe opening his eyes beside the open grave.

He's somewhere between, Ryan thinks, between the angry, dancing boy who disappeared and the broken, frightened man Ryan brought back home. He's holding himself together like this, so carefully, fighting so hard not to slip away.

Ryan sits slowly down at the other end of the table and tells himself to have the courage to meet his brother's eyes.

He manages - barely.

"No, I... I remember."

"Good." Danny slowly lifts the mug to his lips, sips, sets it down again. Like he's acting out a routine of normal, each move robotic and tightly controlled. "You can't... be cruel to him, Ryan. Like that."

"No, I know. I lost my temper a little, that's all. It's... it's not that big a deal, Dan." Ryan rubs at the back of his neck and tries on a shamefaced smile. It falters when Danny's expression hardens, like lava solidifying to rock, harmless on the surface but still hot enough to burn.

"You could have hurt him, Ryan," Danny says softly. His voice is so low, and so strong - both at once. "You, um. You did hurt him."

Ryan nods, again. He feels like a kid sitting in front of his mother after getting caught skipping curfew. He feels like Danny skipping curfew, the disappointed annoyance from their parents. Ignoring that it had almost always been Ryan's idea to sneak out.

"I... I get that. I didn't-" Ryan takes a breath and groans, leaning on his elbows, rubbing hands over his face. "Fuck. I hear all the shit that bastard did to you, and I think, Vandrum was right fucking there, Danny! Right there! And he... did nothing."

Danny sets the mug down and it clatters with the trembling of his fingers, nearly splashing out entirely. Ryan looks up and catches the sight of a bead of red on Danny's lower lip, chapped skin torn. Redder than his scars, more immediate.

"He didn't do, um, nothing," Danny whispers, barely audible. His strength is fading, pulling back inside him. Ryan's brother will just... fuck off somewhere and the stupid goddamn puppy will be there instead.

Dr. Rosa has a whole thing about this, about trauma and Danny protecting himself, something about identity and like a lot of really uncomfortable questions about their childhood Ryan has no idea how to answer...

"What did he do, then? Huh?" Ryan finds his finger jabbing in the air, watches as if from outside himself as Danny flinches back. "Tell me. What did he fucking do?"

"He, um." Danny shifts, drops his hands into his lap. His hair, shaggy and unkempt, is a riot of red waves and curls around his face. "Watched. Or... helped. He-"

"Danny, please. I'm angry enough, don't make me even more pissed at this guy-"

"He, he didn't want to, Ryan." Danny looks at him again, and Ryan watches tears glitter in his blue eyes, one run out and get caught in the crevices dug in by scars, follow its map over cheekbone and down to jaw. "He hated it. But he-... but I-..." Danny breathes, that awful fucking thing he does now to calm himself.

Breathe on, hold for a few counts, breathe out. Again and again. Ryan knows what he’s doing, inside his head, and it makes him sick.

My name is Red and I belong to Abraham Denner, and then those stupid rules - and there’s like fifty of them - over and over again until his breathing calms, until his hands settle.

Until he’s good.

The bastard, the fucking demon piece of shit that laughs at Ryan on the stand... Abraham Denner taught Danny to do that. And now, free of him, the Denner bastard about to waste away in prison for life... He still does it.

He still needs it.

Ryan's eyes drop to the scars around Danny's neck, a collar he can't take off, and he swallows. His stomach turns. He pushes the coffee mug away, the smell and taste of peppermint are making him sick now. Too cloying, too sweet, too much in the face of his broken brother's pain.

"I'm alive because of... of him," Danny says finally. "D'you see?"

"Yeah, cause four years later he found a fucking conscience-"

"No. No!" Danny's hands slap down on the table, rattling the ceramic mugs, and his breath is faster, airier. Whistling, almost. "I, I... No. Because he, he, um... He suffered, for me. With me. For four years."

"You suffered," Ryan says, voice flat. "He watched."

Danny looks at him, and there is a darkness there, a shadow around eyes and mouth, that Ryan can't always see. But he sees it now. "He, um. Was made to watch. That... That's suffering, too.”

“Bullshit.”

Danny’s jaw sets. “Don't touch him again, Ryan."

"Don't plan on it."

"Please." Danny's voice drops, almost to a whimper. "Please, Ryan. He's-... He's the only real thing."

"What?" Ryan blinks, but Danny is already pushing himself up, moving away staring out the window at the sunrise as he dumps his coffee into the sink and rinses out the mug. Automatic, thoughtless cleanliness.

Danny doesn't look back at him. He's so tall, towering over everyone, and he is still so... very small, in his fear.

"Abraham could take everything," Danny says, lips barely moving, his eyes locked on the sky slowly turning blue with the morning light. "Everything from me. He did, he, um, he could... do it again. But he never took Nate."

He turns to look at Ryan, and there's a brief flash of Danny again, really Danny, his big brother's flash and fire, before it fades under the weight of what has been done to him.

"You could take Nate away from me," Danny says, voice low. Almost weak. "Please... Please don't, Ryan. Don't touch him again. Don't b-be Abraham, in this house. Don't... Don't. I need... I need, um, this time. With Nate, while I have it. Before he... Before it's over. Before he comes back for me."

He leaves the kitchen with Ryan still staring, guilt an inferno that will burn him alive at the pleading uncertainty in Danny's face, his voice. The door to Danny's bedroom opens and shuts, almost silently.

Ryan is left alone to say, to no one, "But... He can't come back for you. He"s going to prison."

Danny acts like Abraham Denner could just fucking walk out of it.

---

@whump-it, @bleeding-demon-teeth, @finder-of-rings, @burtlederp, @astrobly@whumpywhumper, @18-toe-beans, @pumpkinthefangirl, @special-spicy-chicken, @swordkallya, @moose-teeth, @untilthepainstarts, @whumpiary, @lave-whump @raigash @cupcakes-and-pain, @whump-tr0pes, @wildfaewhump

#daniel michaelson's story #ryan michaelson is a good brother #or he tries anyway #whump #trauma recovery #referenced pet whump #past torture #past pet whump #referenced dissociation #kind of - ryan doesn't understand it yet #referenced alcohol use #caretaker #angry caretaker #broken whumpee #recovering whumpee #ryan is so naive #sorry 'bout that bad arc that hasn't happened yet buddy #conditioning

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mamaspresley · 4 years

Note

going to midsummers with rafe and being like the look king and queen and then some heated stuff happens 😏

midsummers | rc

a/n: i loved writing this!! midsummers is one of my favourite episodes. i hope i did this justice! thanks for the ask luvie

word count: i have no clue

pairing(s): rafe x kook girlfriend!reader

warning(s): mentions of rafe beating up jj but it’s not shown, smut, choking

You and Rafe had been best friends since middle school but only started dating last year. Your families were partners and wanted to keep business in the family—it made sense that you and Rafe be together, since you were the same age and had grown up together. Despite the somewhat arranged relationship, you loved Rafe. He’d been your best friend forever and the only person that truly understood every aspect of your life. You were grateful it was him that you were forced to be with—even if he was a little unpredictable at times.

Midsummers was basically just a party held in honour of Kooks. It was quite stupid—no one actually knew why they had to go but everyone on the rich side of the island went. Some of the Pogues worked it, but it was Kook exclusive. This year, the Camerons were the main event. Ward was being coronated for something and Rafe asked you to walk in with him, a coming-out thing for you guys even though you’d been together for a while already.

The event was being held at some house on the Figure Eight, and you stood in the foyer with Rafe, smoothing over his collar as you waited to make your entrance. He was in a baby blue suit that fit him perfectly, a bow tie around his neck and his hair was slicked back to perfection. You wore a matching coloured dress that was off-the-shoulder and had a slit down the right leg, hugging your waist before flowing out down to the floor. Rafe had his hands on your torso, running his fingers over the fabric absentmindedly as he looked around, deep in thought.

“What?” you asked, letting your hands settle on his shoulders as you looked up at your boyfriend. His eyes darted down to you before he raised his eyebrows.

“Hm? Nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” you said, eyeing the boy skeptically. “What are you thinking about?”

“How good you look in that dress,” Rafe answered quickly, smirking down at you as you only rolled your eyes. “What? It’s true.”

Rafe didn’t miss the blush you tried to hide as you looked down, sliding your fingers down the lapels of his blazer. He chuckled, moving his hand to rest on the side of your neck before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head, making you smile up at him. “You look gorgeous, baby.”

“So do you. We look like the perfect couple.” You noticed the hesitant look in Rafe’s eyes after your words and you frowned. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said. You raised an eyebrow. “I’m just… a little nervous.”

“About?”

“This is, like, our coming out, you know? Like, everyone already knows us but this is kind of like a restart for me. Everyone knows me as my dad’s kid. This is... I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m talking about.” Rafe’s words came out a little stuttery, and you thought it was adorable how nervous he was. Rafe was a generally confident guy, always one to follow through something with conviction, but this was a different side to him. You liked it. It showed he was human.

“You’ll be fine, babe.” You placed both of your hands at the base of his neck, smiling reassuringly up at him. He nodded, taking a breath. “This is a fresh start for you. And I am honoured to be a part of it. Don’t worry, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

Ward let the two of you know that it was time to head outside, and Rafe linked his arm with yours as you walked out. Everyone clapped at the well-known family as you all walked out together, going your separate ways afterwards. You and Rafe headed over to where Topper and Kelce were standing near the bar, both holding their individual drinks.

“Damn, Rafe. You clean up nice,” Kelce teased as the two of you approached, making you giggle as he looked over at you. “Not as nice as Y/N, though.”

“One could only dream,” Rafe mumbled, looking down at you with a boyish smirk. You smiled, squeezing his arm before heading over to the bar to grab drinks for you and Rafe. When you returned, handing his drink to him, Rafe pulled you into his side, his arm slung over your shoulder as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Thanks, baby.”

The four of you talked for a while before something caught Topper’s eye. “Is that JJ dancing with Sarah?” The boy had a hint of anger in his tone as the three of you followed his gaze. Sure enough, in the middle of the dance floor stood JJ, rubbing up against Sarah as he handed her something, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Who the fuck let that Pogue in here?” Rafe’s words came out sharp as you felt his body tense, his arm still draped over your shoulders. Glancing up at him, you saw the anger slowly spreading across his complexion and you sighed, lacing your fingers with his hand that hung over your shoulder. He looked down at you, and you raised your eyebrows as if to say, “Don’t, Rafe.”

“Why the fuck is he here?” Topper’s voice snapped Rafe out of his trance, and all hope was lost as the anger washed over him again. Rafe scoffed, unraveling himself from you to crack his knuckles.

“I’m gonna fucking kill that kid.”

The three boys were walking away before you could say anything, and you just watched as they approached Sarah and JJ on the dance floor. Rafe grabbed the Pogue’s shoulders, saying something that you couldn’t hear but knew it was bad by the knowing smirk that appeared on his lips. Sighing, you leaned on the railing of the deck, rubbing your forehead in distress. You knew this wasn’t gonna end good.

JJ had made a run for it, escaping the crowd of people and sprinting past you to get inside the house. You watched as the boys followed him, and then you took it upon yourself to down your drink and get yourself another one to pass the time.

Rafe and Kelce returned to you a few minutes later, their suits wrinkled and expressions angry. It was obvious that shit had gone down—Kelce had a busted lip and Rafe’s knuckles were beaten up as they both smoothed out their tuxedos which were messed up from the fight. You scoffed, reaching down to grab Rafe’s hand as you ran your fingers over his scraped knuckles.

“For fuck’s sake, Rafe,” you scoffed, glancing up at him as you dropped his hand.

“He was asking for it,” the boy countered, making you roll your eyes.

“Or were you?” You crossed your arms over your chest, watching as Rafe raised an eyebrow at your attitude. You scoffed. “I highly doubt JJ came here with the intention of getting the shit beat out of him.”

“Well he should’ve at least expected it, coming into uncharted territory,” Kelce added. You shot him a look and the boy got the hint, backing away. Soon you and Rafe were left alone, the alcohol in your system making you feel a bit buzzed, adding onto the annoyance that spun in your head. You hated when Rafe did this

“This was supposed to be our night, Rafe.” The hurt expression on your face obviously wasn’t registering with your boyfriend as Rafe only stared at you blankly. “Our coming out. You said it yourself that this was a fresh start for you. You’re still acting the exact same.”

“What, so you don’t like who I am?” he asked incredulously. Letting out a groan, you raised a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose. You couldn’t believe him. “This is me, Y/N. And if you don’t like it then leave.” His words struck a nerve with you. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe you were simply just overly sensitive tonight—whichever it be, his words stung.

“You know what I meant,” you mumbled, feeling your defensiveness vanish as you cowered under him. This was the thing you hated about your relationship with Rafe—he could make you feel so small within an instant.

With a scoff, Rafe ran a hand over his jaw while he looked out at the sea only a few feet away. Then he looked back at you, his angry expression gone as he returned to his normal self. “I’m sorry.”

“Save it, Rafe. It’s obvious you don’t want to be with me right now.” You turned back around, making your way inside, completely aware that Rafe was following at your heels. Both of you said quick greetings to people you recognized as you passed through the house but it wasn’t until you were in an empty hallway that Rafe finally grabbed your wrist, spinning you around to face him.

“Why are you so mad about this?” he asked, moving his hands down to your waist as he held you close. You sighed, crossing your arms as you looked past him. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realize this was so important to you.”

“I love you, Rafe.” You glanced up at him, eyes soft yet the gaze you held on him was firm. “And I don’t want you to think that I’m not taking this relationship seriously. Taking you seriously.”

“I would never think that.” Rafe’s eyebrows scrunched together, causing a line of worry to wash over his forehead as he looked at you intently. His hands rubbed up your sides, feeling the material of your dress under his fingers. “I’m serious about you too. Like, serious, serious.”

Giggling, you nodded as you looked down and then back up at him. Rafe pulled you in closer, dipping down to press his lips against yours sweetly before pulling away. “You know, you look really good in this dress.” His words had you blushing despite the eyeroll you gave him, and Rafe smirked as he brought a hand to the side of your neck. “Bet you’d look better without it, though.”

“You don’t rest, do you?” Rafe chuckled as he shook his head, leaning down to kiss you again, this time with purpose. His fingers dug into your hips, his other hand getting a firm hold on your neck as he kissed you, his tongue making its way to meet yours hastily. You moaned into his mouth, feeling him apply pressure to your neck, his fingers pressing into your throat to restrict your airways. “Rafe,” you choked out, feeling him push you back against the wall. He released your throat, letting you breathe normally as he moved his lips to suck on your neck. Your hands immediately fell to his hair, tangling in the blonde locks as your head fell back. “Rafe.”

The boy let out a grunt of sorts, his hips rolling onto yours as he attacked your neck, likely leaving hickeys for you to cover up tomorrow. You loved the bruises he gave you but damn, that boy knew how to leave a mark.

“Rafe,” you said again, and finally the boy pulled away to look you in the eye. “In the middle of the hallway?”

“You got a better idea, sweetheart?”

Glancing around, you took Rafe’s hand and led him down the hallway. After trying a few doors, you ended up finding an unlocked study and snuck inside, locking the door behind you as Rafe was already discarding his blazer. He threw it on the ground, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you close, connecting your lips again. The way his lips slanted against yours, they fit perfectly together. Kissing Rafe was something you’d never get over—it just felt right.

He led you over to the couch in the middle of the study, lowering you down onto your back as he crawled over you, fingers working to peel your dress off. “So pretty,” he whispered, lips hovering above your ear as he ran his hand over your bare shoulder, his touch setting your skin on fire.

“Rafe,” you moaned, leaning your head back as he slipped his hands around you to unzip the dress. Once it was all the way off Rafe sat up, causing you to follow suit. He undid his dress pants, sliding them about halfway down before you slipped your panties down your legs and crawled over his lap, beginning to unbutton his white dress shirt. Rafe was sliding his cock through your folds before you could finish the task.

“Oh, shit.” Rafe groaned as he felt you sink down on his dick, your hands on either sides of his neck as you held onto him tight. Your head fell back, moans leaving your lips easily as you lowered yourself down on him. His hands came around to the small of your back, holding you close to his chest as you began bouncing on him, filthy moans leaving both of your lips as he held you steady. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.” He coaxed you on, one hand on your hip now as the other came up to wrap his fingers around your throat.

“Rafe,” you moaned, leaning your head back. Rafe sat back, watching you move up and down on his cock as he licked his lips, holding you tightly with his hand around your throat, rings glimmering in the moonlight that shone into the study. He felt you clench around his cock, making him roll his eyes back as you whined.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Rafe squeezed your throat again, making you gasp before his free hand came down to your thigh, rubbing it gently. “Come on, baby. Come on.”

“Please—“ Tears brimmed your eyes as you struggled for breath, feeling a familiar sensation bubble in your stomach as he jerked his hips up into you. Rafe knew exactly where to fuck you, how to make you cum, and you were grateful for it as you felt yourself coming close to the edge. “Oh, shit.” You choked out your words, unable to speak coherently as he had his hand wrapped around your throat.

“You like that, princess?” Rafe pushed up into you again, groaning as he felt you clench around him again. He released your throat, moving both hands down to squeeze your ass as he lifted you up onto him so he could hit you at a different angle, making you scream out in pleasure. “Like my cock in you? Fuck, you’re so pretty, my girl. Come on, baby.”

“Rafe,” you cried, digging your nails into his biceps as you collapsed into his chest, letting him fuck into you now. Soon enough you were spilling over the edge, feeling cum drip down your thighs from both you and Rafe as you shook from your orgasm, eyes rolled to the back of your head while you moaned incoherently.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He pulled out of you afterwards, stroking his cock as he leaned his head back on the couch. You still held onto him, your arms around his neck as your forehead rested on his shoulder, both of your breaths heavy as your chests heaved up and down.

“Shit,” you mumbled, your voice nothing above a whisper—you didn’t think it could go any higher.

“We should get back,” Rafe said with a slight rasp, his voice breaking from the strenuous moans he’d let out only seconds before. You nodded, crawling off his lap and sliding your panties back over your thighs. After doing up the buttons on his shirt and sliding his pants back up, Rafe helped you zip up your dress before you guys headed back out, fixing your hair on the way.

As the two of you walked down the hallway in silence like nothing had happened, Rafe threw on his blazer, smoothing it out while he cleared his throat. You ran into Kelce as you made it out to the foyer.

“Where you guys been? The Pogues totally crashed and then Kie ran out with them and—” Kelce stopped himself, eyeing the two of you. “Dude, your shirt’s buttoned up wrong.”

“Shit.” The boy began buttoning his shirt correctly and Kelce only looked at you, shaking his head as you giggled, flipping him off.

Maybe Midsummers hadn’t turned out so bad.

***

tags: @katie-avery @anonymous0writer @drew-starkey @thelocalpogue @ijustreallylovethem @jjmaebank @ceruleanjj

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honney-boy · 4 years

Text

Best Thing You Never Had (part one)

Pairing(s): JJ Maybank x Reader ,

Reader x Topper Thornton

gif by→ @sci-fi

WORD COUNT: 5.7k+

Summary: You're dating Topper; lately the relationship has been a bit rocky but you guys can get through it right? You also meet the pogues, and begin hanging out with them, especially JJ when the others weren't around. Being around both boys makes your head spin, and as it turns out, they're both the best thing you never had.

Warning: fluff, angst-ish, underage-smoking + drinking, mentions of implied smut

Request: yes by @jjxobx

A/N: Sorry again for taken so long to get this up but here it is! I got carried away and ended up splitting this request into a couple of parts.

if you want to be tagged in any of my work, send me an ask or message me! taglist is at the bottom of the fic :)

The sun sat high and bright in the sky. Blue skies with a gentle breeze, but it felt like a hotbox. Your dark sunglasses shielded your eyes from the bright light, but even with your tank top and denim shorts, the rays still heated your skin, leaving it warm and sticky.

Unamused and bored, you sat on the short rough grass of the golf course at the Island Inn Resort. Home and the heart of the country club, your parents insisted on paying a lot of money for memberships just for four people. The place wasn’t all that bad; there were plenty of things you could do. There was a tennis court, a pool, a gym, and other group activities. Still, some members embraced the stereotype of the luxurious lifestyle, flaunting the money, and being snooty. Some members had kids you went to school with, and you hated them just as much as their parents even though all your parents were friends.

You really shouldn't have come with him, or the other things you did with him after the fight you two had last night. It was another stupid fight that started out as a playful banter when he was taking you home. It escalated to the two of you yelling at the top of your lungs once someone said the wrong thing that got the other irritated, you getting out the car and deciding to walk yourself home. That didn't settle with him either. He ended up convincing you to get back in the car - really your feet were beginning to hurt - and took you home where he came in, and you two spent the next two hours forgetting about what you were fighting about.

You let your head fall back, and a sigh left your lips while closing your eyes and listened to what was around you. You could hear the water splashing along the shore, a little chatter from others on the course in different areas, and the frequent smack of a golf club hitting the hard rubber ball across the green. You wanted to be anywhere than here right now. You wanted to have a beach day and hang out by the water. Even hanging in your pool sounded nice, but you were being a nice girlfriend and came to the country club because your boyfriend asked you too.

He could pretend that the fight didn't happen, but you were over his recent nitpicking.

The sound of little laughter pulled you back and drew your attention away from the sun.

"Hey babe, this one is for you," Topper said, pointing a finger at you and his face serious. Rafe rolls his eyes while standing next to him and mimics Topper with a different pitched voice.

"" Hey babe, this one is for you." don't dedicate an air shot to her," Rafe said, walking around Topper so he could get a better view of where his putt would go. Topper scoffs, shaking his head at his friend, but decides to not pay him much attention as he turns to look at you again. Though he could see your face, he couldn't see your eyes past your dark sunglasses, which means he didn't catch your eye roll. You held your hand up, hiking your thumb, and adding a smile to show you heard him and appreciated the gesture. But to top it all off, you cheered him on.

"You got this, babe! Hit the ball in the hole for me," Your words seemed to brighten Topper's spirit before he turned around. Rafe snickered at your lack of knowledge with golfing terms, but he knew you didn't really care too much for it. Topper fixes his posture, positions his feet shoulder lengths apart, relaxes his body, and concentrates on the ball for a few seconds before swinging his club. The hit sent the ball a few feet in the air, landing on the ground with a few bounces then rolling the rest of the way to the hole. All three eyes watched the ball slowly draw closer to the hole, catching the edge and circling its shape a few times before finally landing in the cup.

"Ha eat that." overjoyed, Topper threw his hands in the air, a grin set on his lips as he looked from you to Rafe.

"Yeah, yeah, nice back door putt, but I can do better."

"Okay hotshot, I want to see you try."

"Alright then, let's move on up so I can show you how much better at golf I am than you." Rafe grabbed his bag containing his other clubs and balls, leading the way to the next part of the course. Topper doing the same, took ahold of his stuff but made his way over to you and held out his hand. You graciously take his hand, letting him help you off of the ground. You felt his fingers lace through yours as he pulled you both in the direction of Rafe.

He turned his head to look at you, "Did you see that play?" he asked you, and you smiled, pulling yourself closer to him and nodded. "For a minute, I thought the ball would decide not to go in—you know you should let me teach you how to play."

"I don't golf, tennis is more my sport," you say. You reach for your glasses and lift them to sit on your head; you glance at Topper, seeing him still look at you smiling.

"I know you don't, but I still want to teach you," You arched a brow giving him a hesitant look but still shook your head lightly. "Oh come on, Y/n, don't you trust me? I promise I won't set you up for failure." He gave you a little nudge with his shoulders, hoping to win you over. You knew that if you didn't at least let him try, he would be bugging you about it for the rest of the afternoon, and you surely wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, not like you were anyway.

"Fine, you can teach me your golfing ways," you reluctantly agree. Here you go deciding to do something with Topper again even though you should be mad at him, but you were irritated with yourself that you gave in to him quickly. Topper grinned even more at you.

"You'll be learning from the best," you force another smile on your face, and the two of you walk across the fairway to the next tee. Since Rafe walked ahead of you guys, he made it to the next tee and began setting up for his turn. You were too focused on getting to the next area that you didn't notice that Topper stopped; you only figured that out when you got pulled back with your hand still entangled with his.

You glance back at him, the grin on his face is gone, and his cheery mood is replaced with a serious one. "What's wrong with you?" he asks and pulls you closer to him. "I know there's something up, so don't say there isn't anything wrong." He knew you too well, you couldn't say he never paid attention.

"Nothing is wrong-" he gives you a look, but you continue. "-it's just a bit hot out today." you shrug your shoulders half-heartedly and pull his hand to get him to start walking again. "Come on, let's not have Rafe wait on us all day." He didn't budge, his eyes were still set on you.

"Is it because of the fight we had? I thought we were past that, we made up," You turn away from him, wanting to drop his hand but you didn't. You took a deep breath, faced him again, and shook your head.

"I know we made up Topper, it's not that," you answer and tug on his hand once more, and this time he did move, so you took that as a sign to continue walking to where Rafe was.

"Then what is it? I can tell something is bothering you, we've been together for a while. You gotta give me more credit than that."

"I know that that's why I see no point in lying to you," You see Rafe almost done setting up for his next turn, which ushered you to pick up your guy's pace. "So please believe me when I say there's nothing wrong." Topper stopped in his tracks, which caused you to stop once again. You whipped around, ready to snap at him for not believing you and keeping up with his stubbornness, you saw it in his face, but his words threw you off.

"Okay, I believe you," He meant it, and you knew it, though his eyes said something else, you knew he was sincere with his words. "I'm sorry."

You stepped closer to him and stood up, kissing his cheek. You flashed a smile once you stepped back. Topper smiled back, it was almost sweet, but when his hands wrapped around your arms, it stopped you from dwelling. And then he kissed you.

"Hey, you two, we're supposed to be golfing, not sucking each other's faces off." Rafe sounded a bit annoyed, but you both knew he didn't give a shit.

You pulled away first, patting Topper's bicep and stepping back. "Well, you have a bet to foresee and some lessons to teach." He held your gaze for a split second, nodded his head and walked over to Rafe, and stood next to him.

Rafe was right, he did better than Topper, and he wasn't going to hear the end of it. You knew you wouldn't either, along with the future constant complaining of your boyfriend. But now, it was your turn at attempting to be a golfer.

"Alright, it's pretty easy. Just uh, line up to your target..." Topper took his club—shifting on both of his feet to get into his stance. He glanced up at you for a second and then focused back down on the club. "Nice, easy backswing." moving his arms a bit, he tapped the ball twice with the club, and the third time he went full swing and hit the ball. You both watch the ball fly in the air, bounce a few times, and roll into the hole. "And voila. That's the basics of the swing."

You ready yourself by grabbing a ball - Topper had already gotten you a club - and kept repeating Topper's instructions in your head. Line up to your target, Was his feet shoulders width apart or just a little bit? You stood where he had lined your ball, standing on the same side of the ball you saw him stand and with a deep breath, you tried your best to remember his instructions and went for it. You swung at the club and felt the melt slip right through your fingers.

You wince seeing it land some feet away, turning to look at Topper, the corners of your mouth turn down with a pout. "Did you see that I suck." Topper smiled, finding your pouting state cute, it even brightened his poor mood.

Shaking his head, he grabbed another club by Rafe - who had a massive grin on his face at your feeble attempt, he and you both knew he would tease you about it later - handed it to you. "No, you're new to this, it'll take some practice, I promise you'll get better," he says.

"I highly doubt that this is why I play tennis."

"Yeah, and I like watching you play," he said with a smirk and moved to stand behind you. You began situating yourself - rolling your eyes at your boyfriend and his boyish ways.

"You only like to look at me with a tennis skirt on." You said in a matter of fact tone, which made his smirk grow.

"Hey, what can I say, my girl looks good in a skirt," you playfully huff at his comment; you stood in your previous stan, lining the club with the ball ready to swing but hands on your hips distract you.

"Hands to yourself, Thorton."

"I'm not trying anything," he says through an airy chuckle. "I'm helping you fix your stance." His hands stayed on your hips as he got closer to you; close enough, you could practically feel his body heat. He put his left leg in between yours and used his foot to spread your feet apart. "It helps if your feet our about shoulders widths apart,"

"Shoulders width apart, got it." Topper moved his arms around you until his hands were on top of your own gripping the club. Not only was your back to his chest, but you could feel his breath against your neck; when he spoke to you, you shivered as a chill went down your spine.

"You're gonna want to look at your target first. Imagine the ball going toward it till it lands - or rolls - into it," all you could do was nod as you gazed at the hole. "Then look at your ball-" your eyes quickly move down to the highlighter yellow rubber ball at your feet. "-take a deep breath while your mind imagines you making a putt. What I like to do is take my club and ready my swing with small taps on the ball." Topper, with his hands on yours, moved yours back a bit and then forward to tap the ball, he did it two more times before he spoke again. "After taking a deep breath, I relax and give my club a full swing like so," He pulled your arms back a bit further this time, and you both swung your arms forward, only missing the ball since he was simulating how it should go. "Think you got it this time?" he asked, moving his arms from around you but kept his hands on you.

"Yeah, think so," you mumbled, and he took a step back.

"Alright, let's see what you got."

You loosen up a bit, keeping your feet shoulders width apart and took a deep breath. You had this, if you made it, maybe you wouldn't have to play golf with them. You look over your shoulder at the boys, both of them waiting for you. Rafe looked like he wanted you to hurry up, and Topper just sent you a smile, which you returned. Turning back, you eyed the hole, imagined the ball flying in the air, and then rolled until it fell into the hole. You looked at the ball, doing what Topper did - tapping the ball three times with the club - and then when you got ready to swing, you drew back your arm and swung as hard as you could, keeping the grip you had on the club.

"Holy shit Top, Y/N did better than you!"

You get out of the car, grab your bag you had packed, and walk toward the water. You scan the beach - hand held up to your eyes, blocking the sun - looking for your bubbly blonde friend. You catch her running out of the water, being chased by a guy with a severe tan and shaggy brown hair - that had to be John B, the guy you hear so much about. You smile, watching him wrap his arms around her waist, making her laugh with the biggest smile on her face. You didn't want to ruin their moment, but she was expecting you to come.

After hitting a 'perfect putt' as Rafe referred to it as you were super proud of yourself that you couldn't help but tease your boyfriend about being better. He called it beginners luck, he was just too bitter about it, but you didn't care. At some point, while the boys were playing, Sarah sent you a text asking you to come to hang out with her and a few others at the beach. You gladly accepted the invitation and let Topper and Rafe know you were going to go see Sarah. Rafe didn't care, and if Topper did, he didn't voice it or show it. He told you to have fun, be safe, and gave you a kiss on the cheek before you left. You headed to your house first to grab a suit just in case. When you get to the beach, you see a handful of people scattered along the sand and in the water. At first, when you left Topper, you felt bad because he wanted to spend time with you. It was sweet of him, but you know he's only kissing butt because he was trying to get you to not be mad at him, but leaving the club and coming to the beach was the right decision.

"Hey Sarah," you called out to her. You pulled the attention of a few people on the beach, but she didn't seem to hear you, so you cupped your hand around your mouth and called her name again a little louder. "Sarah!" She turned away from John B, her eyebrows pulled together as she looked around. You wave your arms around, which finally grabbed her attention; she pulled away from John B, said something quickly to him, and ran toward you.

"You made it!" she beamed and pulled you into a tight hug. "I thought Topper would never let you go," You give her a squeeze and pull away enough that just your arm is around her waist, and she left an arm around your shoulders; you didn't really care if she got you wet.

"He almost didn't. After that fight last night, he hasn't really let me leave his side,"

"Now you see why I left him," You gave her a side glance, one she missed while waving toward the group of people a few feet away around what looked to be an unlit fire pit in the sand. "Hey guys, this is y/n, the friend I was talking about. Y/n this is the gang, Pope and Kiara," she gestured to a guy with a tan hat that sat backward on top of his head. Though he was sitting down, you could guess that he was a decent height - taller than you, of course - his skin was dark brown, and he was toned. Then she moved to the girl that sat next to him, Kiara. She had long wavy dark hair; her skin was a strong brown-red that was sun-kissed and warm. Kiara gave you a small smile while Pope gave you a little wave. "And John B, you already know." John B took two of his fingers and gave you a salute.

You met John B a while back when you went to bother Sarah when you were bored and didn't want to be bothered by Topper. When you got to her house, the one place you knew she would be - if not outside - was in her room. What you didn't expect to see was a pair of broad shoulders hovering over your really good friend's small frame. It was awkward, to say the least.

Your eyes move over to the last person she hadn't introduced yet. He had sandy blonde hair, a hat on his head backward like Pope, his skin sun-kissed like Kiara and a pair of sunglasses to top off the surfer boy vibe he was giving. Even with the sunglasses on, you could feel his eyes on you, and his gaze was almost intimidating. "And this is JJ." Sarah finished. You could finally put a name to the face, but as soon as his name fell from her lips, he moved his attention to the ocean. It bothered you when it shouldn't have, but you hated when others weren't polite.

You just smile, keeping your arms crossed. "It's nice to meet you guys; hope I'm not intruding your hang out."

"Oh, no, you're not intruding. The more, the merrier," Kiara said. "Don't just stand there, come sit with us, we don't bite." She waved you over, scooting away from Pope to make room from you, which you thanked her with a smile.

"JJ might," Pope jokes, JJ tilts his head back, probably rolling his eyes.

"Haha, funny. Better watch it before I bite you,"

"Oh, kinky," Sarah teased.

"Bet that does get a rise out of you." John B added with a snicker.

"Bet that does for you too; you and Sarah don't hide those hickies very well. That bandana isn't fooling anyone." Pope and Kiara let out a course of 'ohs' and Pope whistled, and you joined in with a muffled laugh covered by your hand.

You guys carry on with the conversation, all light-hearted and entertaining, staying on a topic no longer than ten minutes, not counting the 30-minute discussion about if F.r.i.e.n.d.s or That 70s Show was better. You liked That 70s show the most, and Pope agreed with you while Sarah, John B, and Kiara loved F.r.i.e.n.d.s, and JJ liked both shows. You liked hanging with pogues, you could finally see why Sarah liked them too. They kept you in the conversations, easing the awkwardness at the beginning; you were chiming in. That's what it seemed like, and you hoped you were. Even though you were included in the conversations—every once in a while, Kiara would say something to you, Pope would ask you a question. John B would ask for your opinion, and Sarah answered for you sometimes—it didn't take you long to figure out JJ hadn't said anything to you. He just chimed in when it seemed best, laughed when something funny was said, but he didn't ask you questions or ask for your opinion. You usually didn't mind if someone never said anything, but that made you feel weird after it came to your attention, it was like JJ chose not to say anything. When you did speak, you'd see from your peripheral that he was looking at you, you even caught his gaze, but he always averted his eyes.

You guys had been talking and hanging out for a few hours, and you knew that because the sun had set and the moon began to slowly rise in the sky. At some point, Pope had gotten up and lit the small bonfire you guys sat around, and like the other times before, the topic had changed.

Through some laughs over something dumb, JJ said, Kiara took a drink of one of the beers passed to her. After her laughter died down a bit, she asked everyone: "Okay, okay, so if anyone of you were on Fantasy Island, what would be your fantasies?" It was definitely an interesting question, and one you - all of you had to think about. Sarah decided she would go first, immediately, piping up with her fantasy.

"If I were on the island, I would wish for my future home to be an animal rescue. I'd live by the water, saving baby turtles and sea life with my rescue dogs running around enjoying their life."

"That's so cute, I can see you doing that in real life anyway. Make it a reality Sarah," you say, and some of the others nodded their head agreeing with you. John B pulled Sarah closer in his side, kissing her on her forehead and mumbling something to her, which caused her to smile. After Sarah, it ended up being Pope's turn, and his fantasy was to be a successful man, and with that success, he wanted to take care of the people he loved. He would get his parents a house in the figure eight - Pope knew his dad would never leave the island he was born and raised on - he would pay their bills, and the rest would go toward black-owned businesses that need it.

John B wanted his own boat business where he built and repaired boats for others or sell. On top of that, he would have a little surf shop where he crafted surfboards for tourons to rent, or for the ones who wanted to get their own. "I want everyone who gets a board for me to have a great experience, and if someone is buying their first—ever surfboard, I want to be the one to give them their first."

Kiara wanted to live through her favorite decades. Experience the music, styles, compelling, and peace movements of the '60s and '70s. Live through the time where iconic musicians like Freddie Mercury, Mariah Carey, TLC, Tupac, Micahel Jackson, Aaliyah, and more were in their prime. But if she had another choice, she wouldn't mind being the first woman and woman of color president. You loved both of their fantasies, they were empowering and selfless. Both Kiara and Pope, even Sarah, wanted to make the world a better place or live through experiences that haven't lived before. Heck even John B wanted to make an impact. Their fantasies put yours to shame, they could turn theirs into a reality.

When it was finally your turn, you didn't answer right away, and to the others, you looked like you were still thinking about your fantasy, but you already knew it. Your fantasy was a bit silly, but maybe you could think of a cover like a self-owned business idea like John B's. Or a world and local changing influence like Kiara, Pope, and Sarah. "Well, this may sound weird, but it's a fantasy right, so who cares," you started off, lifting your shoulders in a shrug. "If I were on Fantasy Island, I would bring back my childhood best friend Chewie; he was the family dog. Chewie and I would live on an island in Greece where everyone knew each other, loved each other, sang and danced their hearts out." Hearing yourself describe your fantasy caused you to laugh as if it were a real fantasy. "Basically, I'd live with my dead—but an alive dog in the movie Mamma Mia."

Kiara tilted her head with a thoughtful look. "That is definitely one fantasy, but i really like its sound." she pulled her lips into a grin, laughing softly and slightly buzzed. Some time ago, JJ had lit a blunt, and it was being passed around.

You smile and shake your head at Kiara, you agreed with her, you had one hell of a fantasy, but it's something you always wanted. Sarah joined in and giggled along with Kiara. She leaned forward, passing the blunt to JJ, then laid her head back on John B's shoulder. "I miss Chewbacca, he was a good pup," she mentioned, her words making you smile more significant, and you couldn't agree more.

"You are right about that."

"Wait, you named your dog after a Star Wars character?" John B questions; you nod and from the corner of your vision, JJ offering the blunt to Pope but, he shook his head. JJ just shrugged and took another few hits of it.

Still looking at John B, you answer: "Yeah, my dad and older brother are huge Star Wars fans, and they got me hooked on it at a young age. Chewie was a big dog with curly brown hair like Chewie, and at four years old, he looked like the Wookie copilot. Can you really blame me?"

John B chuckled and shook his head. "I guess I really can't."

JJ leaned forward, already knowing it was his turn to speak. He inhaled the smoke of the blunt and held it out for you and tilted his head toward it. "Wanna take a hit?" You looked at him with round eyes, caught off guard by him, finally saying something to you. But just as quick as it happened, you blinked a few times and reached for it only for him to pull it from you. "Have you ever smoked?" You wanted to roll your eyes

"Yes, I've smoked before JJ," you replied, with an unamused face. "Now, give it here."

Huffing out a short laugh, JJ let you take hold of the blunt. "Alright, chill out, no need to get serious and demanding." He was shocked that you have actually smoked. Sarah mentions you here and there when she was around them and not once had anything she said about you hinted at such actions. You were good, you weren't rebellious like Sarah or outspoken; JJ assumed you were a goodie two shoes, and he still thinks it. Maybe you could change his mind. He watched you place the blunt to your lips, draw in the smoke, then take a deep breath to let it take over your lungs.

He tore his eyes away before you looked at him, and when he looked at the others, they two were impressed at how well you handled it. You hadn't choked like Sarah did her first time. "Let's see, if I were on Fantasy Island and granted a fantasy, I'd want unlimited days to chill with my friends and have tons of Mary Jane, beer, and some waves. Probably use some of that time to find my true self, do some more things I love, learn something new, fall in love if it comes," he lifted his shoulders in a half shrug and sat forward on his elbows. "That's all."

"And what if something goes wrong like John B goes crazy and has black gooey crap come out of his eyes because, I don't know, he went crazy." Pope picked at the fire with a stick he found while gathering wood earlier in the day. Pope had a good point. Fantasy Island was known for its fantasy granting and the dark and twisted reality that comes out of it.

"I'll throw 'em in the water, problem solved," JJ replied, as you passed to Kiara.

"Here, Kie."

"Well, if he comes at you with a weapon, would you still throw him in the water?" Pope asked.

"Duh, and I'd run, it's a basic human instinct," JJ said like it was the most obvious thing in the world to do. All those horror movies you've seen only supported his answer; all the people seemed to stay and try to figure out what the noise was or trip on thin air, giving the killer a chance to get them.

"JJ does have a point," John B Spoke. Clapping his hands together, he threw in another question for the group to go around and answer. "Alright, in your opinion, what's the best pizza topping slash pizza?"

Sarah's expression lit up at the question. "Good pizza, that's the best pizza."

"That doesn't answer the question, Sarah."

"She's stoned, let her be, "Kiara said through a chuckle. "Hmm, to me, the best pizza is veggie pizza."

John B shook his head "Veggie pizza is alright but not the best. The best topping is cheese." JJ made a disgusted face, one John B frowned at because he noticed. Pointing at him, he says: "Dude, I'm telling you, the best pizza is cheese pizza."

JJ scoffed, clearly not liking his friend's choice. "John B shut the hell up, cheese is the most disgusting flavor of pizza ever,"

"Well, without cheese, is it really pizza?" Kiara wondered aloud, causing you and Sarah to giggle at the thought.

"Whatever," JJ brushed you guys off. "We all know the best pizza is pepperoni pizza." you pretend to gag. To add dramatics, you lean forward as if contents we're coming out onto the ground. You earned an eye roll from the blonde and giggles from Kiara and Sarah, even a soft chuckle from Pope.

"For a dude that smokes, you have horrible taste."

He frowned, offended by what you said, "What is that supposed to mean? I have an amazing taste."

"It means your taste is bad once you're high. I don't know about you, but when I have the munchies, I mix stuff that tastes amazing. Like for example, the best pizza, Hawaiian." JJ's face scrunched up; Pope thought about it but ultimately agreed with you that Hawaiian was a good type of pizza, he wouldn't say it was the best, but he had his opinions, and you had yours.

"Never had Hawaiian, you'll have to introduce it to me, "Kiara confessed while gazing into the fire until she peeped up at you. You grinned and nodded already planning possible days for you two–even Sarah–to meet up and hang out so you can make them your homemade Hawaiian pizza.

"Definitely! Just let me know when and we can plan a hangout."

John B cut in, letting his thoughts out. "I think I tried it once...I don't think I liked it."

"Yeah, you did, I was there, and you kept throwing pineapple at me—which by the way, pineapples do belong on pizza." You all grew at JJ's response, Pope even pretended to hold back hurl.

"JJ, man, just stop."

"I agree with Pope and acknowledge my previous statement: "For a dude that smokes, you have a horrible taste"." You say to the blonde boy across from you.

"You don't even know me, so how would you know what my taste is?" Whether he meant it to sound the way it did, you didn't miss the irritation in his voice. You were only joking, but you guess he took it to heart. Before you could say something else, John B leaned forward, tapping JJ on the arm, gesturing to the blunt before speaking up.

"Chill JJ, no need to be hostile, this is supposed to be an enjoyable hangout, just enjoy it, "JJ grumbled something you couldn't really hear from where you sat, but you didn't make a fuss about it. He just sat back in one of the fold chairs the group brought and took the blunt back from John B, smoking the rest. For the rest of the night, you guys continued talking and laughing, even going for a swim in the water. You liked hanging with the pogues, and you also admitted it to Sarah when you dropped her off at home after you guys were done hanging out. She even asked what you thought of everyone–disregarding John B because you had already met him–and you weren't lying when you said you enjoyed their company, you would totally hang with them again if you could, and they didn't mind. You knew right, then Kiara would be a close girl friend like Sarah, and the boys would be like brothers, but when it came to JJ, your mind wondered. You wanted to know more about him, you weren't sure why but that boy intrigued you.

Taglist :)

#outer banks imagine #outer banks netflix #outerbanks #obx #obx fic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj x y/n #jj imagine #kiara carrera #topper thornton #topper thorton x reader #topper thorton imagine #pope heyward #john b routledge #sarah cameron #rafe cameron #pogues x reader #obx pogues

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heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1: The Queen

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which Y/N is betrothed and her kingdom is in chaos.

Word count: 7.6k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

A/N:

I know my characters can be frustrating sometimes because every single one of them is flawed and makes stupid mistakes. I want them to feel real, and real people are always frustrating. So please, for me, keep the comments fun and lighthearted, because the main purpose of fiction is to entertain and I really don’t want you guys to argue over my writing. Let’s not be mean to each other and my characters - because they’re basically my children and it pains me when someone’s mean to them 😂

I’m looking forward to seeing your theories and questions about the plot ✌🏼

Also, the series will be updated WEEKLY instead of biweekly, so the next chapter comes out next week on Wednesday (July 22, 2020).

Prologue: What Happened To Harry?

The night was wet and dark. Heavy snow was lashing against the windows of the carriage as the moaning of the wind muffled the shouting of men and neighing of horses. Kennedy Rowley hugged her little girl, who was wrapped in a soft fur blanket, to her chest. This was their first time travelling to the North, and Kennedy had worried that her child wouldn’t be able to bear the cold. To her surprise, the little one had been an angel for most of the trip. She would eat and sleep and listen to her mother’s story even while the snowstorm was raging on outside. It was the same story all over again, and yet the baby never got bored.

“Once upon a time,” Kennedy began, rocking her baby gently in her arms. On her left, her husband had dozed off, snoring softly with his head leaned to the side.

Once upon a time, there were one hundred kingdoms living in harmony. The largest, strongest and richest kingdom in the North was ruled by an old king. The King had four sons: Lokesh, Kashvi, Reagan, and Aalam.

While The King and Queen were kind and admired by their people, the princes were spoiled, arrogant, and greedy. All four had grown up to become strong and great fighters, but the one with the most potential was Lokesh, the eldest. And the King was very proud of his heir.

The year Lokesh turned eighteen, the Queen died of a terrible illness, and not so long after that, grief killed the King. Lokesh became King in the North. At first, he was happy; his father’s crown was everything Lokesh had wanted since he’d been fourteen. But now that he’d got it, he wanted more. And so the new king came up with a plan to become the almighty ruler of all one hundred kingdoms. With the help of his four brothers, his army started invading the neighbouring kingdoms. Villages were burned. Innocent people were killed. Dynasties crumbled. And soon, all ninety-nine kingdoms had surrendered to Isolde.

The war was over, or at least that was what Lokesh had thought. As clever as he was, he hadn’t expected that the same greed which had driven him to start the war had turned his three brothers against him. A civil war broke out with four sides fighting each other for a year. Thousands of lives had been taken, yet no one won and no one surrendered. When the year had passed, the brothers agreed to call it a truce and divide the land into the North, the South, the West, and the East. Each brother would rule the largest kingdom in their region. Lokesh in the North - Isolde, Kashvi in the South - Theros, Reagan in the West - Attwell, and Aalam in the East - Rouxvania.

Twenty-four small kingdoms in the North now became the low courts which, despite having their own rulers, took orders from the high court of Isolde. Same for the twenty-four small kingdoms in the South, the West, and the East.

Legend has it that there was a time when the weather would change constantly in a year, but because the brothers had angered the Gods, it's always sunny in Theros, flowers always bloom in Attwell, and the leaves are always red in Rouxvania. As for Isolde, the land ruled by the tyrant Lokesh, the people must suffer from an endless cold.

By the time Kennedy had finished her story, the carriage slowed down and came to a stop. Her husband stirred awake as they heard a knock on the window. The door was opened, and a guard announced that they had arrived.

Kenny carefully wrapped her sleeping baby in the blanket as she stepped out of the carriage and took in the white scenery surrounding them. The sky was pearl-grey even though the sun had risen and the wind had stopped whirling around empty branches. The baby whimpered as a snowflake landed gently on the tip of her nose. Meanwhile, her mother kept spinning around with her mouth open wide; this was not only her first time seeing the North castle, but also her first time seeing snow. When she and Harry had been little, they’d always talked about travelling North just to spend a whole day playing snow fight and building snowmen.

This was not what she’d meant. She didn’t want her first time seeing snow to be without him.

“Your Majesty,” Stefan Russo said and nudged his wife, who started and immediately turned around. Kennedy curtsied when she saw the King of Attwell marching toward them with two guards in black armours following right behind, the silver hilts of their swords shining in the crystal clear sunlight. The King was also dressed in black. He was even more handsome than the rumours. His hair was short and wavy and as black as a starless night sky, and she could envision a raging snowstorm just from looking into his mysterious grey eyes. He was powerful and regal, but at the same time, just a young man of twenty years old.

“So you’re Stefan and Kennedy,” he said, his voice raspier than she’d expected. “Guests of the Queen are also guests of mine. You don’t have to bow to me.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Kennedy and Stefan both said.

“You can call me Kenny. Everyone does,” Kenny added. Only her mother and late husband had called her Kennedy. She shivered at the thought of them; she didn’t want to think about them now.

“How is...Her Majesty, Your Grace?” Stefan ventured, his palms trembling; he wasn’t used to talking to a sovereign.

The King’s expression remained unreadable. He didn’t look at them when he said, “She’s with Harry at the moment.”

Stefan and Kenny gaped at each other, then at the King as if they’d just heard something extremely outrageous.

“Harry?” Kenny blurted. “We were told that he–”

“A lot has happened since we sent our men to deliver the news to you,” Lance Devany cut her off. “But we still need you here, as you might be able to help us.”

Help them? How could two peasants help the King and the Queen?

Neither Kenny nor Stefan got a chance to question when Lance told the servants waiting by the carriage to take their luggage to their chamber. To the couple, he said, “Come. I’ll try to explain as we walk.”

“W-Where are we going, Your Majesty?” Kenny asked.

Seeing the horrified looks on their pale faces, Lance sighed and spun on his heels. “To the dungeon.”

Chapter 1: THE QUEEN

Ten months ago

Y/N woke up screaming. Outside, the sky was still dark. The snow was falling down lazily, and the only sound she could hear was the whistling of the wind through bare branches and her laboured breathing. She was alone in bed, dressed in her sweat-soaked nightgown. Her hands weren’t bloody, and Egon wasn’t on top of her with his rotten fingers wrapped around her throat.

The door swung open, and the warm glow of firelight from the corridor washed over the colourless carpet as a figure dashed into her chamber, sword drawn with a sharp whoosh.

Harry’s horrified eyes locked with her own. “Is everything all right?”

She nodded, her shoulders slumped. “Just a nightmare.”

Harry heaved a sigh as he put away his sword and looked around the bed-chamber to make sure it was really empty.

“Were you outside the whole time?” she asked when he turned away.

He looked hesitant, glanced at the bright corridor and then shook his head as if to say, ‘Fuck it’. He closed the door, allowing darkness to engulf them once again as he strode toward the bed and sat down in front of her. Beaming, he brushed her damp hair out of her forehead and planted a kiss on it. “Go back to sleep, Peach.”

“Harry—“

“I know, I know,” he said tiredly. “I was worried. That’s all.”

“You’re not my guard. You could just ask someone else to keep watch.”

Harry tilted his head, his mouth quirked a little. “I don’t trust the other guards. What if you decide to sleep naked?”

She smiled, hating herself for feeling relieved that it'd been him who'd guarded outside her door. It was riskier now that Lance was returning tomorrow; still, it wasn’t tomorrow yet.

“Can you stay with me until sunrise?” she asked, taking his hand and kissing his palm.

He considered her for a moment, but she already knew he wasn’t going to say no. Eventually, he nodded his head. “Scoot over.”

She giggled and made room for him under the covers. Harry slid in beside her, lying on his back with an arm behind his head, the other wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her in. She rested her head on his chest and snuggled close, feeling much safer now that he was here to keep bad dreams away.

Closing her eyes and counting his heartbeats, Y/N gradually fell back to sleep.

The next time she woke up was to Jo shouting at Harry to get out of the room. Harry launched himself out of the bed and combed his fingers frantically through his messy curls as Jo continued scolding at him. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Y/N realised that the sun was already hanging above the tallest trees outside her windows. Harry had overslept.

“No one has come in, right? Just you?” she calmly asked Jo, who stopped shouting to answer, “Yes, just me. What were you thinking, Y/N?!”

“Hey, you’re talking to the Queen, woman,” Harry said.

Jo smacked him hard on the arm, causing him to yelp and bounce back. “You slept in her bed,” Jo snapped. “You don’t get to speak morals here. Now get out!”

“Stop it. Both of you,” Y/N yawned as she swung her legs to the side of the bed and stretched her arms tiredly. Harry somehow managed to duck around Jo and pecked Y/N on the cheek before he sprang to the door, shouting, “Love you!”

Jo gasped and placed her hands on her hips, eyes widened at Y/N. Y/N only shrugged, unable to stop the smile blooming on her face. She stood up and leaned against a bedpost as Jo came to shut the door.

“Relax. We’ve been doing this for two months already.”

Jo rolled her eyes and repeated the same thing she always said, “You have to be more careful.” Then, she paused and wetted her lip. “Lance is returning today.”

“I know,” Y/N sighed, crossing her arms. “I get chills just from hearing his name.”

It was meant to be a joke, but Jo didn’t laugh.

“You’re going to marry Lance. Are you going to keep Harry around forever?”

Y/N shrugged. “Our people don’t care who’s in my bed every night or who’s in Lance’s, as long as I’m married to a king and he to a queen.”

“But does Harry care?”

Jo’s question froze her to the spot. She swallowed and lifted her shoulders. “He was the reason I agreed to marry Lance.”

“He did that for the sake of our kingdom, you know that. No man is happy that their woman is married to someone else, even just for an alliance between two kingdoms.”

Y/N looked at her friend funny. “I thought you hated Harry.”

“I hate both Harry and Lance,” Jo scoffed and stepped forward to cup Y/N’s face. “I’m worried for you. If this goes wrong, you’ll get hurt the most. I don’t want you to lose more than you've already lost.” When Y/N didn’t reply, Jo pressed her lips into a tight smile. “Now, let’s get you dressed to welcome your obnoxious future husband.”

“I'm hoooome! Where’s my beautiful bride?”

Y/N exhaled as all eyes in the room pinned on her. She was standing at one end of the table, her palms fanned out on the map of Isolde. They were in the middle of an important meeting, and the last thing she wanted was to be interrupted, especially when the interruption was called Lance Devanny. She could hear his voice all the way from the courtyard as soon as his retinue had arrived. For someone whose whole life was a huge question mark, Lance Devanny really did love the attention.

She cast a silent glance at Harry, who was standing beside the chief minister. He instantly knew what it meant and excused himself to leave the room so he could stop Lance before he got here. Before Harry could even reach the door, however, it swung open and Lance strutted in with that mischievous crooked grin on his stupidly handsome face.

“Are we having a celebration without me?” he asked, looking at Harry and then Y/N, who rolled her eyes and murmured, “It’s always a celebration without you.”

She saw Harry scowling at the King, who brushed right past him, straight toward her and swept her into his arms. She didn’t have a chance to react when he pressed his lips firmly against hers. Her eyes shot open, and she could see Harry’s jaw twitch as he turned away.

It felt weird, kissing Lance. He’d never kissed her on the mouth. Their charade had only included fake smiles and hand kisses and the most scandalous thing she’d done had been allowing him to put his hand on her back for the whole night, and even then, they’d had a loud fight afterwards.

How dare he kiss her right here in front of all her court?

Still, she couldn’t help but notice that he smelt like flowers. She’d expected him to smell like sweat and horses. After all, it’d been a long journey travelling on the road from Attwell to Isolde. But he smelt like flowers, and his lips were warm even though he’d just arrived in the cold. Strange. Well, at least now she knew Lance Devanny had a heart that was pumping blood to keep his body warm like a normal human being.

He drew back, her eyes locked with his for a second before he looked over his shoulder at Harry. Y/N didn’t know what it meant. Was that supposed to be an apology for kissing her in front of him? Or was it to flaunt that Lance could kiss her in front of Harry? Whatever the King’s reason was, Y/N would kill him after this.

“Is my baby dove happy to see me?” he asked and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She almost snorted. It was a joke between the two of them. He’d told her that he should call her lovely names like a man in love would call his consort, and she had hated all the options he’d proposed, like ‘my love’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘darling’, because those were for Harry to call her. So Lance had said, “How about ‘baby dove’?“

“Why a dove?” she’d questioned.

“Would you prefer ‘baby chicken’? Either is fine with me.”

It had been funny the first time he’d said it, and their guests at the time had looked so confused and uncomfortable (they probably weren’t used to a couple of monarchs who were actually fond of each other). But now that Harry was glowering at Lance and possibly her for looking more delighted than she should, ‘baby dove’ wasn’t so funny anymore.

All the courtiers in the room were watching them; Lance was putting up too good of a show for them to miss, and so she must play along. She cleared her throat and faked a smile as she pinched his cheek. “I’m so happy you’re here safe with us.”

Lance’s eyes popped open as she pinched as hard as she could, knowing he couldn’t cry out in pain otherwise they would know. When she released him, his cheek was so red she had to lean in and pretend to kiss it, only to whisper to him, “Do not kiss me again or I’ll make sure that’ll leave a bruise.”

She pulled back, smiling, and Lance rubbed the spot on his cheek as a corner of his mouth turned up; there was a fascinated look on his face.

Harry broke the silence, his tone flat and dry, “We’re in the middle of a meeting, Your Majesty.”

Y/N truly admired him for having kept his calm the entire time. If she’d seen someone kiss Harry, she would have jumped on the person like an angry bear.

“What about?” Lance asked. His joker character had been replaced by a stern expression – his mouth formed a straight line and his forehead puckered slightly. She wasn’t sure which version of him was the real Lance. Probably neither.

The chief minister spoke, gesturing to the red circles drawn on the map. “There have been some uprisings in the villages at the northern border.”

“The low courts were in on this?” Lance asked.

“No, not the low courts,” Y/N said. “Their people. I don’t know who started it but villages were burned and innocent people were killed.”

“When did it start?”

“After the Queen’s coronation,” Harry said. “You were in Attwell.”

Lance grimaced as he rested his right hand on his sword-hilt. She’d noticed that he did that a lot, as if touching his sword would bring him a sense of comfort, to which she could definitely relate. “So...two months ago, and no one bothered to write to me?” he asked, sounding a little betrayed.

Lance had left Isolde right after her coronation to return to Attwell. The people there were more open-minded than those in Isolde; they had actually welcomed Lance home with open arms, whereas her people had started burning villages and killing each other the second she’d been crowned. Sometimes, she wondered if it had anything to do with her sex. If she were a man, would they treat her like a hero instead of a sinner?

“This is my kingdom,” Y/N said, her voice rougher than she’d wanted it to be, and everyone started eyeing Lance. Maybe they didn’t expect their Queen to talk to her betrothed with such ferocity.

Despite her breaking character, Lance remained calm. “Your kingdom is my concern, too,” he said. “Just like how mine is yours. If your people are protesting against you, they’re protesting against us.”

Y/N stared at the red circles on the map and only dipped her chin in response.

The chief minister drew a breath. “A week ago, Commander Joaquin led our cavalry to put out the protests, and...he was killed on the way home.”

“Fuck,” Lance muttered, not caring who had heard him.

“Harry is our new commander,” said Y/N as she scratched the tip of her nose with her index finger, not looking at anyone. “He was the only one who stayed and fought to save Joaquin.”

“I’m sorry I failed,” Harry mumbled.

“It’s all right, son,” said the Lord Chancellor. “You did your best.”

Lance cast Harry a look. “Good job. I was wondering why you were here.”

Harry responded with a dry smile. “Funny. I was wondering the same thing about you”

Everyone was puzzled, but Y/N paid attention to neither of them. “Tomorrow we’re heading out to the border to bring supplies for the people in those burned villages. Winter is coming and they would not survive alone in the cold now that their homes are gone.”

It was the first time Y/N had seen Lance and Harry share the same look of concern. If they weren’t in a serious situation, she would probably tease them for it.

“What do you mean ‘we’?” asked Lance, tentatively. “It’s just a way of saying, right?”

Harry’s brows furrowed. “You’re not actually going, are you?”

“I am.” Y/N narrowed her eyes at both of them. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing. My commander died for me.”

“Which is why you shouldn’t be out there,” Lance cut her off. Was it genuine concern that she saw in his eyes, or was it just her desperation to find some sign that he was capable of having human feelings? “I’m going with them,” he asserted. “You stay home.”

She stepped toward him. He was a head taller yet she showed no sign of weakness. “Do not give me orders in my own court. You stay home.”

He pursed his lips, pretending to think for a second. “No, I don’t think so, baby dove.”

“I agree with the King, Your Grace,” said one of her advisors. She and Lance both turned to the man. “It’s too dangerous. We must keep you safe at all costs.”

Y/N shook her head. “If I showed fear to my own people, then it would prove that they were right about me. If I want their trust, I must trust them first.”

“You’re talking about the people who took innocent lives and burned down villages because they hate you,” Harry said; his voice was calm and steady yet fearful somehow.

She hated it when he sided with Lance.

“I’ll carry a sword and wear armour,” she told him. “And I can fight better than many of our men. Whatever it takes, I’m going.” Looks were exchanged, yet no one dared to object. “Meeting adjourned.” With that, she swept out of the room.

The door fell shut behind Y/N and the room erupted with whispers. Harry exchanged worried looks with Lance; he hadn’t thought there would be a day when he agreed with this bastard, and yet, the life in court kept surprising him.

While the chief minister was giving orders to the guards about protecting the Queen on the journey tomorrow morning, Harry slipped out of the room in silence. There were footsteps following him into the corridor. He kept on walking, but Lance was quick to catch up with him.

“Can you convince her to stay here tomorrow?” Lance asked.

Harry appreciated how passionate this man was about keeping Y/N alive. Still, it was irritating that he'd sounded sincere. Sometimes Harry actually believed this wasn’t at all an act to Lance and that he truly cared about Y/N. Would Harry prefer him not caring about Y/N?

“I can try but she won’t listen,” Harry said coldly.

Lance heaved a breath. “That woman is enjoying her power way too much.”

“And that frightens you?” Harry asked, this time, unable to suppress a smirk.

“Since she's going to be my wife, yes.”

Lance's answer pulled him to a stall. He spun and finally faced the King, who appeared too confident for Harry’s comfort.

“You do know your wedding to her would be fake, right?”

“I do.” Lance shrugged. “But do you?”

Harry pretended like he hadn’t heard the question. “I’ll find her and try to talk her out of it,” he lowered his voice. “But don’t ever kiss my girl like that again.”

Lance stood there with his shoulders squared and hands behind his back. Harry could feel Lance’s eyes on him as he walked away.

After having wandered all around the courtyard, he found Y/N at last and fell into steps beside her. She acknowledged him with a sideways stare and nothing more as she continued walking.

“You’re mad at me,” he said, breathless. She didn’t answer, her expression ice cold. “Hey, I’m sorry for what I said back then, I shouldn’t–”

“You shouldn’t have said anything at all,” she cut him off and whipped around, stabbing a finger at his chest. “You were supposed to be on my side.”

“I’m on the side that wants to keep you alive, Peach.”

“No, you’re on the side that underestimates me,” she snapped, crossing her arms and stretching to her full height. “Do you think Lance cares about me at all?”

Honestly? Yes, Harry thought, even though he shook his head in answer to her question.

“That’s right.” She nodded slowly. “That bastard doesn’t want me to go because he thinks I cannot defend myself. The only reason people are protesting is because they don’t want a queen to rule them. They don’t trust me to protect them if I can’t even protect myself. If only I can just show them–”

“Do you think the uprisings will stop once you’re married to Lance?”

She paused and blinked. “Are you saying that my people suspect that we’re faking it?”

“Probably.” He shrugged. “It’s been two months and you’re still not married.”

“There are so many other things to take care of,” she sighed and combed her fingers through the black waves of her hair. Sunlight filtered through the glass window on their right, making the gems on her crown sparkle like stars. He hated how they would be in the middle of a conversation and he would notice something pretty about her and get distracted. He snapped back to reality as she was saying, “...it’s a tradition that the royal wedding must be in the first month of Winter.” When he didn’t respond, she stepped closer and whispered as if she was afraid someone might be eavesdropping, “Are you...fine with this?”

He blinked. “With what?”

“Me marrying Lance,” she said, studying him with her eyes. “I just realised that I’ve never asked you how you felt about this.”

“I was the one who made you accept his proposal,” he said, working up a grin, which failed to distract her.

“You’re dodging the question.”

He pushed his hair back. “Well, as your most humble servant, I’m happy that you’re marrying Lance to secure the alliance between Isolde and Attwell. As your...lover in the dark, however,” she rolled her eyes and turned away to hide a smirk, “I want to smash his teeth in.”

Y/N covered her mouth as she let out an unladylike snort. “He’s got a pretty punchable face, hasn’t he?”

A grin stretched Harry’s lips. “I’m glad you agree.”

Y/N reached out and touched the hilt of Harry’s sword with her index finger, and he suddenly felt the urge to grab her hand and lace their fingers together. Still, his hands remained at his back.

“And the kiss…” she trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

“It’s all right,” he said despite himself. “Even the chief minister seemed convinced so…”

“Mmmm,” was her response before she withdrew her hand and her arm dropped back to her side.

Harry knew it wasn’t a good idea to turn the ship around after he’d just driven through a storm, but the longer he gazed at her, the more his heart ached as he couldn’t stop imagining her lying among the corpses on an open field. She hadn’t been there when they’d been ambushed. He’d watched people die all around him. Tomorrow wouldn’t be a fun excursion, and he didn’t want her to put her life at risk just to prove a point.

“Please consider not going tomorrow.” She threw her arms in the air as soon as he’d said it and yet he continued anyway, “You don’t know what it’s like. I was there when they killed Commander Joaquin. I couldn’t save him and I don’t want to lose you the same way.”

When their eyes met again, her smile had vanished, and now she looked furious. “And I was there when we thought we were losing the war against Calanthe’s family. My father was fighting side by side with his men on the battlefield while my mother and I were hiding underground with all the women in court. Why is it that my father had to be on his horse with a weapon in hand, and I have to stay home and wait for all my men to die before I do?”

Harry was tongue-tied at that. He felt like whatever he’d say next would only upset her more, even though it seemed quite impossible now. She worked her jaw, her gaze sharp and intense as she said, “Don’t ever give me orders in front of my court again. Not you, not Lance, not even my second-in-command is allowed. When I’m there, my decision is final.”

Her dress slapped the air with a whoosh as she stormed off, and Harry decided not to follow.

A feast was held to celebrate Lance’s visit, or return. Isolde would be his second home once he and Y/N had been married. Y/N felt bad that he would have to travel back and forth while she had not once visited Attwell, then the guilt shrank as soon as she remembered he’d been the one to propose this fake marriage.

There’d been so many times when she’d meant to ask him the same question she’d been asking herself – How long was he planning to do this?

Would he actually sacrifice his youth and a chance to marry someone he actually loved for the sake of his kingdom and do it so willingly? As annoying as he could be, she (like most people) was curious to find out who the real Lance was. But every time the question about this ‘foolproof plan’, as he’d called it, was about to roll off her tongue, Y/N would notice something that made her think Lance cared about nothing but himself. Sure, he cared about Attwell, but it was his kingdom. So it was also for his own benefits, wasn’t it?

Now they were sitting at the high table, watching a dance performance which wasn’t really that great. Y/N supposed it was more entertaining for the men to watch pretty ladies wearing masks and tight corsets (that made their bosoms look bigger and rounder) dancing in circles. Her eyes searched for Harry at one of the courtier tables and sighed in relief to see that he wasn’t watching the performance but laughing with one of her advisors. Well, at least one of us is having fun tonight, she thought.

“Hey, I’ve just discovered something.”

Y/N sighed, turned her eyes heavenward as Lance leaned in closer.

“That you’re extremely annoying?” she whispered back. “If so, then congratulations.”

“Adorable.” She wasn’t looking, but she could hear his obnoxious smirk. “No. I’ve just discovered the reason you wanted to go to the border with us.”

“With you?” She scoffed. “Darling, you’ll be going with us. We’re not yet married and you’re still a guest in my home.”

He didn’t argue with her this time. “To prove to your people that you’re unafraid isn’t the only reason, is it?” he pressed on. “You want to protect him.”

Y/N stiffened in her seat, still, she managed to keep a straight face as she picked up her goblet and took a sip. The wine stung her throat, and she grimaced slightly.

Lance didn’t care if she was ignoring him on purpose; he casually went on, “You weren’t there when he almost lost his life saving Joaquin, so you want to be there this time to make sure he won’t die a hero and a fool. Unfortunately, you cannot tell him that, because he'd have another reason to believe that you shouldn't go. So you'd rather let him believe that it's all because of your pride and that you're doing it for you, not him. Am I correct?"

Yes, she wanted to say, but that's not the whole reason.

Y/N couldn’t tell Lance that, ever since the day Harry had returned with her commander’s blood on his clothes and a wounded leg as a reminder for what had happened, she’d been having nightmares about losing him. They’d be in the middle of a battle, stumbling over muddy corpses, and she would witness someone drive a shiny blade through Harry’s chest. She’d run toward him but she could never reach him in time.

She hadn’t told anyone about those dreams, because after all, they were just dreams. But she’d had many dreams where she’d killed her brother and bled out beside him. Now her brother was dead, and the invisible wound deep inside of her never stopped bleeding.

She couldn’t tell Lance any of that, and so she sneered at him. “So you figured it out? What do you want as a reward? A ribbon?”

Lance tilted his head. His cheeks were a bit red and his eyes weary from the long trip and lack of sleep. At this moment, he looked more human than he’d ever been, far from this mortal God everyone kept portraying him as.

Y/N didn’t realise she was staring until his mouth curled to its favoured side. “Hey, I’m supposed to be the snarky one here. You’re stealing my show.”

He reached for his goblet but she seized it and pulled it toward her. “I think you’re drunk and talking nonsense.”

He let out a chuckle, resting his chin on his knuckles. The way his eyes bored into her made her uncomfortable. “You told me you’d protect him,” he said. “You said that when I recruited him for the army.”

“So?”

“Remember what I said to you?”

She averted her eyes, looking back at the dancing girls. The music was too loud and the people were too drunk; no one cared enough to eavesdrop their conversation. She licked her lip and finally answered, “That you’d protect me.”

“That’s right,” Lance said. “For you, I’ll keep him alive tomorrow so you don’t have to go.”

“Thank you,” she replied flatly, glaring sideways at him. “But I don’t trust you. I couldn't even trust you to saddle my horse without stealing the reins.”

Her comment made him toss his head back and laugh. “Your man is the con artist here. Not me.”

“You’re a pirate.”

“Captain.” He smoothed his hair back.

“Big difference.”

“And I was. Not anymore.”

“You still didn’t tell me about it. I know nothing of your past so I cannot trust you. How am I to know you won’t be the first person to put an arrow through his heart the second we’re under attack?”

Lance’s face grew grim as he exhaled. “No matter what you believe, my lady,” his voice lowered, “we’re very alike.”

“We’re nothing alike,” Y/N snorted. “Your people love you.”

“Do you think they’ll mourn for me when I die?”

“They’ll have to. You’re their King.”

Lance shook his head slightly. The fun Lance was gone, and instead, she saw the solemn face from the meeting today.

“Mourning for someone because you have to and doing it because you care, are two very different things,” he said. “Your family is as dead as mine, but you’ve got Jo and Harry. Even though they don’t understand what you’re going through, at least they’ll be by your side to pull you up every time you fall. I’ve been on my own since I was born. My mother died before she even knew me, and my father never wanted me.”

He stopped at that, and from his troubled expression, she realised he hadn’t meant to reveal so much about himself. It wasn’t a lot. He hadn’t told her his birthplace or his favourite food or anything private, and yet it was probably more than he’d ever revealed to a stranger. Was she a stranger? Did she care? They weren’t here to make friends; they were simply sitting together because of their mutual enemy.

“I wonder what you were like as a boy,” she said, changing the subject.

His playful smirk reappeared. “What are your theories?”

Her mouth twisted as she regarded him. “I imagine a younger version of you, but with the same bothersome attitude.”

“Ahhh, that is quite true. I was born holding a dagger. My first word was ‘murder’ and I joined the army as soon as I learned to walk.”

To both his and her surprise, Y/N burst out laughing. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her maids at the threshold whispering to each other, hinting at her and Lance. It might be strange to them that she and the King of Attwell didn’t seem like they wanted to murder each other. No, not each other. Like she wanted to murder him.

She gave him a nudge. “I expect you to go straight to your chamber after this. No fooling around with my maids.”

The King raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused. “What’s that? Is my baby dove jealous?”

She did a disgusted face. “I’d only stopped hating you for one second and you just had to ruin it. No, I don’t want them to think they’ve got a chance to become your mistress and my equal. That’s another rule for this marriage of ours. No mistresses. It’ll get too complicated.”

Most of the kings in history had taken mistresses. Y/N’s father and uncle had been the only ones she knew who’d had only one woman for the rest of his life.

Lance narrowed his eyes as he said, “Not fair if you get to fool around with Harry.”

“Harry and I are in love.”

“So when I fall in love with someone, I’m allowed to make her my mistress?”

“You’re allowed to see her behind my back. I won't have mistresses in my court.”

Lance stuck out his bottom lip. “I never thought one day I’d get to hear my betrothed say, ‘You’re allowed to see another woman behind my back.’”

“Aww,” Y/N said with feigned pity. “Did baby Lance really think he’d get to marry for love?”

Lance laughed drily and said nothing as he retrieved his goblet from her side of the table. She watched him finish the wine with one go and wave at a servant boy to pour him some more. Maybe she was just drunk, or maybe he seemed a bit wounded by her harmless joke.

Harry was just about to call for a servant when a lady’s skirt swept right past and obscured his view. Fluttering a fan in her hand, Jo smiled down at him, and he rolled his eyes and said, “I don’t want to dance with you.”

She shoved him aside and flopped down onto the seat beside him. “I wasn’t going to ask,” she said, her smile gone. “I don’t even want to touch you.”

He folded his arms on the table and arched an eyebrow at her. “It’s not my fault that I was born with male parts.”

She looked him up and down in a condescending manner. “Were you? Sometimes I really can’t tell.”

Harry rolled his eyes and turned his eyes back to the high table where Y/N and Lance were chatting. It was odd that they actually seemed to get along tonight. Harry knew the laughing was real because he could tell when his Peach faked it. He knew her too well, which was more a curse than a gift sometimes.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Jo asked. She was also glaring at the King and Queen.

“Hopefully not me,” he murmured.

She snapped her head to him. “What did you do?”

“I said something during the meeting and she got upset.”

“She’s the Queen, moron. You don’t get to speak to her like you sleep in her bed.”

“I do sleep in her bed–Ouch!”

Jo didn’t look at all guilty for hitting him with her fan. “You know what I meant. You don’t get to contradict her. That job belongs to her advisors. People already underestimate her abilities as a ruler, she can't have just anyone tell her what to do. ”

Harry already knew that, but when they were discussing the matter of her life and death, he could not just standby and regret it afterwards. Instead of admitting it to Jo, he sighed and changed the subject, “What are your thoughts on him?”

“You mean...do I trust him?” She shifted her gaze from Lance back to Harry, her forehead puckered. “The answer is no for both of you. Men, in general.”

“I’m serious,” he scoffed. “I think he’s got feelings for her. You should have seen his reaction to Y/N saying she’s going to the border tomorrow.”

“She’s going to the border tomorrow?!”

“Exactly.” Harry pointed a finger at Jo’s face. “That.”

“Well, she can’t go! She’ll get killed!”

“I’ve tried to convince her but...you know her.”

“Maybe she’ll listen to me,” Jo said.

“You cannot tell her, Jo. I don’t think I’m even allowed to talk about it to you.”

“Right, right.” Jo breathed out in frustration. To his surprise, she touched his arm, gently. “Promise me if something bad happens you'll protect her.”

“Of course,” Harry said. What he meant was, ‘I’ll try.’ Commander Joaquin had died in his arms, and he’d also tried to save the poor man. He’d have to try twice harder if they were ambushed again. This time, unlike the last, they knew what to expect.

“Lance will come with us, too,” he said, trying to sound hopeful. “He’ll also protect her.”

“I thought you didn’t trust him.”

“I don’t. In general.” Harry lifted his shoulders. “But I trust him to protect her.”

Jo’s jaw tightened as she rubbed the back of her neck and traced her fingertip around the rim of her goblet. “Come to think about it,” she began, “they’ve got a lot in common. He was always the black sheep of his family, never thought he’d fit in, was a rebel who travelled from place to place, murdered his own brother, and now at twenty years old, he’s ruling a kingdom on his own and his family’s dead. Sometimes I fear there are things about her that he can understand better than we’ll ever be able to.”

Through the dancing crowd, Harry caught Y/N’s eyes and returned a beam as she waved at him subtly. He forced himself not to think about what Jo had just said, but the last sentence kept lingering in his mind.

When the bell in the courtyard chimed twelve times at midnight, Y/N was sitting on the carpet in front of the fireplace, back against her bed. She was wearing a nightgown, her hair falling loose down to her back. She should have gone to sleep early so she could wake up before dawn, but instead, she sat there and watched the hypnotising flame licking at the wood. The door of her chamber creaked open at last, and a dark figure slipped inside. His footsteps were light, but she knew who he was the second she heard it.

She didn’t look until he’d sat down beside her, crossing his legs and leaning back against the foot of her bed. In the warm orange glow, his cheeks looked redder than she assumed they actually were. She could smell the wine wafting from his clothes, and he seemed to have noticed the tiredness in her eyes, because he stroked her cheekbone with his knuckles and asked, “Are you feeling well? Should I get a physician?”

“No, I’m fine.” She took his hand and held it with both of hers. “I just...I just want to talk to you,” she said. “And apologise for the way I reacted this morning.”

“You don’t have to apologise for anything.” Harry beamed at her. “I should apologise for crossing the lines. Sometimes I forgot that you’re a queen and I should love you like I should love a queen.”

“How do you love a queen?” she asked, teasingly.

He shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve never loved a queen before.”

“I can tell.” Her eyebrows wiggled and he snorted as she scooted closer and laid her head on his shoulder.

They were quiet for a long moment, and the only thing that told her he hadn’t fallen asleep was his tight grip on her fingers. “This reminds me of that night in the cave,” she said nonchalantly. “It was easier then, wasn’t it?”

“Peach,” he said with a light chuckle. “We nearly got lost, died in a snowstorm and froze to death.”

She felt her smile growing. “Still easier than this. It’s always easier when there’s just the two of us.”

There was a pause, and when he spoke, she could sense that his smile was gone. “You’re right. But as long as we’ve still got those memories, we can revisit them when things get rough.” Then he kissed the top of her head. “Now get some rest. We’re leaving early in the morning.”

She pulled back to look at him. “You’re not staying?”

“I can’t risk it. I might oversleep again,” he said with a hand at the back of her head. When he saw her frowning, his brows pinched together. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She could already feel her lip quivering as she clutched his fingers a bit too tight. “What if this is a terrible idea, Harry? What if I’m not...meant to be Queen?”

“Hey.” He cupped her face with both hands. “You are meant to be Queen. You’ve gone through a lot to be here. You deserve this.” As though he could read her thoughts of self-doubt, he schooled his face and went on, “I’ll tell you who you are in case you’ve forgotten. Your name is Y/N. First daughter of King Willem. The rightful heir to the throne. The rightful ruler of the high court of Isolde. The saviour in the prophecy. And most importantly, you’re my Peach, the love of my life. And whatever’s going to happen tomorrow, we’re going to be together and we’ll fight together just like we’ve done before. Whatever happens, I believe in you, all right?”

She mustered a smile and nodded once, reaching up to place her hands over his. He pulled her in for a passionate kiss and when he let go, she craved for more. She wanted to beg him to stay as he got to his feet and the nightmares crept back into her head like shadows waiting for the lights to go out so they could turn on you.

“I love you,” she blurted, sounding hopeless for a reason she could not explain.

Harry stopped at the door, turned around, and smiled. “I love you, too.”

Then he slipped through the gap and disappeared into the firelit corridor.

(end of chapter 1)

#harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfics #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #tctm series #princess!y/n #queen!y/n

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moonfox281 · 4 years

Note

idk what u think about prompts but imagine having dick beat up jason in front of all his men lmaooo, just like they're sparring and the newbies think that jasons obvi gonna win but jeff and trevor are like, 'just wait' idk

It was Friday night, not to mention the last Friday of the month, meaning paperwork. Jason had been scrunching up in his office for the past eight hours checking over files to files, rubbing face, cracking neck.

He was tired. He was homesick. He had definitely missed dinner tonight, and also patrol. It was three o’clock when Jason checked his watch again. Three, Dick was probably sleeping at home by now. And if Jason managed to magically finish everything tonight, he’d probably be sleeping in the guest room with Beast taking over his side of the bed.

Or so he thought. He was just about to pick the pen back up when the door slammed open so hard it shook the room. Nightwing stormed in and strode toward in front of his desk, full-on mask, uniform.

“Honey, you scared me.”

“Spar. Now.”

“Come again?”

Dick groaned and pulled Jason off his seat by the front of his shirt, dragging him all the way to the common room. Yeah, the gang common room, where most of his men found their fight club spirit. Along their ways, his workers dropped their jaws staring at them. In Jason’s defense, that little grip of Dick was very powerful.

Dick threw him down the only leather couch in the room that everybody knew was only for Jason to sit. His men gagged on air. Okay, to Jason’s defense, again, he who was passively dragged all the way here, was no less surprised than any of them.

If his reputation wasn’t already spontaneously damned under Dick’s hands, he would probably be really embarrassed.

“Your men think I can’t beat you.“

Ah, his men were idiots.

“They also think you always pretend I’m better to save my ego.“

Ah, his men weren’t idiots. They wanted Jason dead.

“Do you believe them?“

Dick snorted and swiped his hair back with his chin tilted up. Ah, the killer move. He knew Jason would be down on four limbs for that sexy trick. “No. I want to show them.“

Just like that. Just like that, Jason lost his jacket, popped the top buttons of his dress shirt and rolled his sleeves up, gearing his ass for the beating. Dick stood a few steps away, grinning like Cheshire cat. Oh yeah, Dick just loved him playing around with three-piece suits.

“Ready?“

His men cheered, stood tight against each other around the ring. Great, if his floor wiping ass was going to be a public one, better give them a show.

“Okay.”

They walked in circle first, grinning at each other. Sparring wasn’t something new, it was just as much of a routine to them as eating breakfast or taking the dog out.

In the end, Dick launched first, which okay, Jason hated that. Dick was fast, absurdly fast, his body was built to be fast. He dashed from left to right, front to back like a hummingbird in the air just to fuck with Jason’s eyes.

“You’ve got this Boss!”

His men applauded. Jason felt a little jolt of energy because as stupid as it was, it was a little encouraging.

He saw a trace ahead and threw his fist. Dick dodged, as expected, bent his back backward in a 90 degree and slid down the floor on his knees. Jason, with luck, thank God, managed to grab on Dick’s collar just when his back twisted a little painful and threw him over his shoulder. The crowd went wild.

Usually, that would be it, but oh, Dick wouldn’t have been Nightwing and Nightwing wouldn’t have been Dick if that was it. He spread his legs wide midair and curled them around Jason’s neck before his body got down the ground, pulling Jason off his feet. The crowd went silent.

Jason choked up when he slammed down the floor. Dick grunt over his head. When he mentioned he wanted Dick’s legs over his shoulders for the rest of his life, this wasn’t what he was implying.

Dick tightened his lock around his neck. Blood rushed to his head, Jason’s ears were ringing. Okay, enough game.

He growled, pushed all his force and stamped hands down both sides of Dick’s hips, teeth grinding.

“Come on!“ Dick shouted.

Jason carried both of their deadweights from a really fucked up angle and slowly lifted them up from the ground. Everyone was so quiet, a whispery gasp “holyshit” from someone came out as loud as a bang.

“Stupid-Pit-juice-urgh!“ Dick hissed and tired out. His legs slid down, releasing air back into Jason’s system. Dick fell and landed on his hands in a three-point landing.

Jason wrung a few buttons off and cracked his neck. His men were roaring, stomping their feet down the floor. For fuck sake, they were sparring, not opening a metal concert.

“Get him Boss!“

“You’re double his size. He’ll snap in a sec.”

“Show him what real man is, Boss!“

Dick clearly wasn’t happy with the chanting, and neither was Jason. That was the thing about the common room, it wasn’t just for people served exclusively to them, it was for the whole gang. Men didn’t know what Nightwing was, what he was capable of, what Jason was capable of for him.

All they saw, for now, was what met their eyes, a pair of long legs for a big man on a big chair. Gotham Kingpin and his shiny toy.

In a short second of catching his breath, Jason saw the guys in the team circled around a table, shielding themselves away from the crowd, drinking, half watching, half talking.

Those were the men that knew the true Red Hood and Nightwing, those were the key chains in the system. And those were the ones who knew exactly how this night was gonna end up like.

Jason cracked his knuckles and huffed. “You know I still have paperwork, right?“

Dick tilted his head. “You know I’m still your husband, right?”

Okay, point taken.

“I’ll tell you this. If I lose, I’ll help you with paperwork.”

Jason’s shoulder dropped. “Really?” Because Dick had never wanted Jason’s work to meddle with him around a 10 feet range.

“Really really.” Dick laughed.

Jason struke forward with a false kick. Dick bit the bait and duck down on instinct, oh but he was damn quick. He caught the knee Jason threw over just in time not to eat the full force of it. But that made him double down, and double down meant showing his neck even for just a slight second. Jason only needed a slight second.

Jason grabbed on his nape, which he knew was one of Dick’s sensitive spots, and hit his chin with his palm. No, there was no way in hell he would punch Dick in the face. That wasn’t what they did in sparring. And John would definitely chase him with a baseball bat if Dick ever got back with a black eye.

But who said that hit didn’t count. Dick stumbled back on his steps, managed to wring himself out of Jason’s grip like a fish. He came by the edge of the ring, touched his chin with the tips of his fingers, grinned.

Okay, now Jason was royally dead.

“You know, tonight was a bit boring.”

“So you needed a punching bag? Really?”

Because Jason totally did not enjoy playing punching dummy just so Dick could do moral lessons to toxic masculinity. Use Jefferson next time.”

Dick jumped forward and Jason was steady for the worse, until Dick vanished in thin air. Jason was an idiot, he should have known, he was fucking used to this. Dick did a full flip and spin in the air and landed right behind Jason’s back. He barely turned back in time to block the foot that flew right at his face. But that was a total mistake.

Dick used Jason’s grip on his ankle and sprung himself in a full-body spin and caught Jason in a double leg grapple. Nightwing’s signature double leg grapple was what put even Deathstroke down on the ground. So there was nothing to be ashamed of when Jason ended up the same and slammed down the floor.

Dick grabbed one of his arms before Jason could try lifting them up by sheer strength again, straining it up in a painful angle. This time, it was a full-body lock. And that was it. Jason might be strong, but he wasn’t Superman.

He tapped the floor with his only free hand before he went out of air. Dick released him with a sigh and did a kip-up to get back on his feet.

“That was fun.“

Jason laid spread on the floor, breathed. Thank god that flashy 360 spin of a double leg grapple shut even a fly up in the room. And thank god he was Dick’s husband and they were only sparring, or else Jason would have lost his neck.

But hey, guess none of the shit head in this room dared to light take him now.

“Trevor,“ He called. “What’s the time?”

Trevor came by his side and squatted down, check his clock. “16 minutes.”

“Your water.“

“Thank you, Jefferson.“ Dick took the cool towel and water bottle from Jeff and grinned down at Jason. “Don’t you have paperwork?“

Jason rolled his eyes. And because he had already got enough of a night, he purposefully missed the way both Jefferson and Trevor turned away to hide their suppressed laugh. People still circled around the ring, right where he laid, starting, gagging on air.

“Take a good look.” Jason heaved, slowly got up, dusted his shirt, checked over the ripped off buttons. There went his Bottega Veneta shirt. “Don’t ever provoke him again, clear?”

The gang shouted back “Roger.” and quickly spread out.

Dick came by his side, gave him a hand. “Come on, I’ll help you with the files.”

Ah, Jason just loved him so damn much.

#jaydick #mob wife au #writing prompt #My writing #Jason Todd #dick grayson

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spritewrites · 4 years

Text

not touching you

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Characters: Diego & the Hargreeves siblings

Word Count: 1368

“F-four!”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Y-yes you - Mom! Number Four’s d-d-doing it again!”

“No, I’m not!”

Grace didn’t even look up from where she was mending One’s mission suit. “Four, don’t poke your brother. You know he doesn’t like it.”

Four grinned widely. “But I’m not, see?” He hovered his index finger centimeters from Two’s shoulder. Two whined and tried to shove his hand away.

“S-stop it!”

“But I’m not touching you!”

“Shut up!” groans Three, looking up from her book: A History of Political Manipulation in America, Volume Two. Even during their allotted free time, their father rarely allowed reading material that was not considered educational. “Or I’ll rumor you both to stay in your rooms for the rest of the night!”

“No!” shouted her brothers simultaneously, their eyes wide. Four carefully removed his arm from Two’s side, quietly scooting further away on the couch. Free time was more valuable than tormenting Two any day.

Two smiled, trying to hide his celebration at this small victory. He leaned to look over Mom’s shoulder at her stitching, marveling at the back and forth, back and forth of her needle. Every stitch was perfect. He sighed happily, resting his cheek on his hands. He could stay like this forever.

“Klaus, enough.”

“Sorry, jeez. Just trying to get comfortable.”

Diego slouched, pulling his elbows even closer into his chest. He hated the middle seat, but he hated losing to Klaus even more. He’d have to look up whether there were ways to cheat at rock paper scissors later.

“Are we there yet?”

He spun to glare at Klaus. “Did you seriously just –”

“Ten minutes,” called Vanya from the driver’s seat. “So, almost.”

Diego slouched even further, almost sliding off the car seat. “You’re acting like a child, Klaus.”

“How so? I’m just asking our lovely sister how much farther to our destination. Is that a crime?”

The sickly sweetness of Klaus’ smile was going to give Diego a toothache, he could feel it. He opened his mouth to respond, but his brother was already turning back to the window. Fine. Good. He might finally get some peace.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, listening to the trickle of faint music coming from Allison’s headphones on the other side of him. Five was in the front seat, feet up on the dashboard, reading Infinite Jest of all things. Diego couldn’t understand the old man. He’d always preferred comic books. Luther was taking up the whole back row. Once they all started spending more time together, a minivan was quickly established as a necessity. And thank God they’d gone through with it – Diego wasn’t sure if he’d have been able to take much more of Luther’s wiggling around in the trunk, making the whole car shake. Not to mention his hot breath on the back of his neck. Yuck. With this setup, at least he got a little peace.

Well, in theory, anyway. His current situation was a little less than ideal, since he’d lost the fight for the window seat, Klaus seemed intent on making his life hell today (more than usual), and the half hour drive from their hotel to the Grand Canyon seemed like it was taking a million years. Allison’s suggestion for a family vacation had been a good one, initially, but Diego had forgotten exactly how tiresome his siblings could be over long stretches.

He felt the presence of something near his shoulder and snatched up Klaus’ outstretched index finger with vigilante reflexes. His brother’s mischievous grin made his blood boil.

“Would you stop?” he snapped, glaring at his brother.

“I’m not touching you.”

“Klaus.”

“I’m not touching you!”

“You idiot –”

“Not really doing anything, as a matter of fact.”

“Asshole, I swear –”

“I can touch you if you want.” A wicked grin.

“God, I don’t even care anymore, just don’t –”

Like lightning, Klaus’ finger dodged under his elbow to land a poke right in the soft spot beneath his brother’s ribs, and honestly, calling the noise that Diego let out a ‘shout’ would be generous. ‘Squeak’ would probably be more accurate. Allison smothered a laugh into her hand, and Vanya shot a glance into the rearview mirror.

“Everything okay back there?” she asked, just as another poke found its way to Diego’s stomach. This time, ‘squeal’ would be a fair descriptor. Diego hunched forward, trying to curl up as best as he could – both to protect himself, and to hide the stubborn smile that was creeping over his face.

“Klaus,” he tried again, but his voice sounded weak even to him, and he didn’t get any farther before he felt cold fingers scribbling over the back of his neck. He launched backwards, slamming his back into the seat to try to crush Klaus’ hand, but only succeeded in trapping the wiggling fingers there. A high-pitched giggle managed to leak between his gritted teeth. Fuck.

“Aw, come on, Diego, you’re always so serious,” Klaus teased, moving back to poke at his brother’s side. Diego gasped, jerking away from the touch right into Allison’s lap.

Allison rolled her eyes, but Diego could also see her fighting a smile. “Guys, honestly.”

“I’m not doing anything!” Diego protested. He swatted at Klaus’ hands, only barely managing to keep his relentless poking at bay. “He’s the one who’s being an asshole!”

“What are you doing to him back there, Klaus?” Vanya asked, not taking her eyes off the road.

“Nothing!” Klaus responded cheekily, just as Diego replied, “He’s torturing me!”

Allison sighed. “Klaus, if you’re going to torment our brother, at least do it right.” Carefully, she reached over with her long nails to tickle over Diego’s stomach.

Diego shrieked, flailed, and finally fell into helpless laughter.

Klaus was grinning like an idiot, and immediately resumed his poking mission, but without Diego’s resistance, it was much more effective. Diego turned red, giggles giving way outright cackling. Klaus was right, he was pretty serious most of the time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like this. It almost felt… nice.

Then his damn family had to go ruin everything by joining in.

“YOU FUCKING –” was all he managed before he was completely overwhelmed – Klaus was scribbling furiously over his ribs, digging in between the bones; Allison was relentless on his stomach, even sneaking a finger or two into his navel to make him scream; Luther leaned forward to curl his big stupid ape fingers around Diego’s ears; even Vanya snuck a hand back to tickle his knees. Diego was dying, he was certain of it, he was going to fucking die. All that work to stop the apocalypse for nothing. Death by sibling tickle torture.

Just when he thought he was going to cry or pass out or kill them all or something, he heard Vanya say, “We’re here!” and the car pulled to a stop.

Immediately, Diego was out of his seat and launching himself over Allison’s knees to scramble out of the car, ending up with a face full of Arizona dirt. He was only dimly aware of his evil siblings cracking up in the car behind him as he tried to catch his breath, wheezing, trying to rid his system of the residual giggles.

“You okay?”

He looked up to see the last sibling he’d expect standing over his shoulder – Five, with an outstretched hand and a smirk on his face, still clutching his oversized book. Diego flushed, accepting the peace offering and staggering to his feet.

“Thanks for not joining in.”

Five shrugged. “They’re children. They’ll grow out of it.”

Diego scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I hope so.”

Before he could say anymore, Five’s smirk grew into a genuine smile, and fingers were jabbing into his sides from the back. He squealed, spinning to see Klaus with a shit-eating grin and outstretched hands. Furious, he turned back, but Five was gone, already on the steps of the visitor’s center. Klaus took off after him, running for his life, and the rest of Diego’s siblings were close behind.

Diego growled, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he started running too. “I’m gonna get you assholes!”

#tua #umbrella academy #ticklish!diego #tickling #tickle fic #diego hargreeves #my fics #sprite chill with the italics challenge 2020 #sorry but i wanted to write lee diego so bad like that boy just needs to smile

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edmundspevensea · 4 years

Text

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

*gif is not mine, all credits go to the creator.

in which john b is smitten and down if you ever want to be in love with him.

pairing; john b x reader

requested; yes

warnings; fighting, mentions of blood

“We should go over to Figure Eight! We can trash their mailboxes or something,” JJ exclaimed as he paced around the porch of the château, but it was quickly shut down by everyone.

It was finally the beginning of summer break for every kid on Kildare Island, and it hadn’t gotten off to the best start, if you were being honest. School was officially out a week ago, but the five of you hadn’t been able to hang out at all. Pope had caught a bad cold from stressing out over school, John B had a bad week with DCS, Kiara’s parents needed her to work at The Wreck a lot more than usual, and you had cut your hand while slicing some onions for dinner, and your wound required 27 stitches. To put it simply, your schedules just didn’t line up, but you all were finally allowed to hang out today.

“No, JJ. That’s stupid as hell,” Kie began, “Pope, any ideas?”

Pope sighed, looking up from his book, “Why don’t we just go on the HMS Pogue for awhile?” he suggested, but he was denied by John B.

“Nah, I’ve been taking her for a spin almost every day this week. Her motor wore out. I have to fix it.” he explained.

“Y/N, do you have any suggestions?” JJ asked, an open beer now in his hands.

You smiled, leaning back on the couch cushion, “It’s a beautiful day to go surfing. I can’t believe you guys didn’t think of that.” you explained, looking around the group for answers. Almost everyone seemed to consider it, but John B was hesitant.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to go surfing, with your stitches and everything.” the brunette boy spoke, looking over at you. Pope laughed, but you weren’t sure why.

“I’m not, but I don’t care about that. No one has to know.” you replied.

“Y/N, I don’t think that’s the best idea-” John B spoke up, but was cut off by JJ.

“She already said she wanted to go, John B. Let’s do it.” he shot back, not waiting for a reply from anyone. John B rolled his eyes, and you all went into the château to get changed.

Kie walked into the bathroom to get changed once you walked out. JJ was doing whatever in the van as Pope and John B were sitting back on the porch. You walked out, turning around the corner to ask a question, “Do you have any gauze?”

“Uhh, I’m sure there’s some in there somewhere. I’m not quite sure where, though.” John B replied.

“I have some in my backpack, Y/N.” Pope smiled, unzipping his bag and tossing you a roll of gauze. You caught it with your one good hand and smiled as a thank you.

Sitting next to John B, you asked, “Will you wrap my hand for me?”

He nodded, gently grabbing the gauze out of your hand. John B wrapped it gently at first, but you told him to wrap it tightly around your stitches, “I don’t want to hurt you.” he muttered, looking up at you.

“You’re not going to hurt me, John B,” you replied, rolling your eyes slightly, “It’s okay. I’ll be alright.”

He sighed, beginning to wrap the gauze tightly over your wound. Kie was out of the house and back on the porch by now, and she gave you a look as if to say, “Prank him!”

You rolled your eyes at Kie, but decided to do it anyway. As John B was focusing on your hand, you pretended to wince, then exclaimed, “Fuck! My stitches!” as you quickly pulled your hand away.

Pope looked up from his book. Kiara pretended to be shocked. John B worried as you were clutching your hand in pain, pretending to fake cry, “Y/N, are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he panicked, frantically peering into your eyes for some sort of answer.

The pain etched onto your face slowly went away, only to reveal a small smirk, “I got you.”

“Y/N, that’s not funny! I thought I seriously hurt you!” John B exclaimed, slightly shoving you a little. Pope and Kiara were laughing in the back.

Suddenly, JJ called, “You guys ready to go?” from the van. He had already loaded your guys’ surfboards into the vehicle, so he was just waiting on the four of you.

Without any second thought, you all nodded, piling into the van.

When you arrived the beach, Kie and you immediately grabbed your surfboards and rushed into the water. The three guys stayed back for a bit, but as their feet hit the sand, JJ sensed that John B was admiring you.

“You’re so whipped, man.” he laughed, turning to face the brunette boy.

John B scoffed, “No, I’m not.”

JJ rolled his eyes, “Whatever makes you feel better, dude.”

“Seriously, JB. Y/N’s got you wrapped around her little finger.” Pope joined in.

“She does not. Besides, even if I did have a crush on her, I can’t break the no Pogue on Pogue macking rule.” he muttered, crossing his arms.

“Oh, you love her,” Pope laughed, “You’re an asshole to JJ practically 100% of the time. Whenever I try to ask you a simple question, you’re distracted by her. Kie knows, too. That’s why she shoots you those little side glances whenever she’s talking to Y/N.”

“So, in conclusion, I’d say that you’re whipped.” JJ smiled.

Yes, John B was smitten. He knew that, but he just didn’t want to admit it, “I’m not smitten, okay? We’re just friends.”

“Sure, pal.” Pope and JJ said at the same time, smirking before running off to surf in the water. John B rolled his eyes before grabbing his surfboard to join them.

A few hours later, you guys were all done surfing, just chilling on the beach as the sun went down. It had gotten a little chilly, so you were cuddled up in John B’s sweatshirt. He had been so kind as to lend it to you.

“God, the sunset’s so beautiful.” you smiled, moving your head to look at John B. He nodded, smiling down at you and pulling you into his chest. You cuddled into him, attempting to steal as much of his body heat as you could. Kie smirked at you, and you rolled your eyes.

Kiara knew of your crush on John B. You always tried to deny it, but she was so persistent in getting you to admit it that you finally told her. You also said that you didn’t want to break the whole macking rule, but she told you that she could make an exception.

An unfamiliar voice snapped you all out of your thoughts, “Well, if it isn’t the no good, useless group of Pogues,” Rafe Cameron spoke, stopping in front of the five of you as he crossed his arms over his chest. Topper and Kelce appeared behind him, which made you and your friends shoot up.

“What are you doing on the Cut?” Pope spat, stepping towards the three Kooks.

“No one’s told you? We come here once a month to pick on a group of lucky Pogues.” Topper scoffed.

You shifted uncomfortably in your spot, gripping onto John B.

“Get the hell off of our side of the island.” JJ yelled, stepping forward to join Pope.

“And what are you going to do about it?” Rafe shot back.

“Just leave, Rafe! There’s no reason for you to be here on the Cut!” you yelled, growing frustrated with the Cameron boy.

His face suddenly turned red, and before you knew it he was charging at you, “You wanna say that again, pretty girl?!” John B stepped in between you and him before Rafe could reach you, and JJ had run towards him to fight. Soon enough, Pope joined in on the madness.

You hated fights. You hated when your parents fought, when your siblings fought, when Pope fought, when JJ fought, and especially when John B fought. You had always been the peacemaker between everyone.

John B was about to join the fight, but you stopped him, “No! John B, it’s not worth it.” you tugged on his shirt with your one good hand. You could hear Kiara yelling for the boys to break it up in the background, but you weren’t really focused on that.

“Of course it’s worth it! He almost hurt you,” the brunette boy turned back towards you, wanting nothing more than to beat Rafe Cameron up, but your grip on him was firm.

“He didn’t, though. Please, JB, just listen to me. I don’t want you to fight anyone,” you pleaded, your voice laced with desperation. Your grip had moved from his shirt to his wrist, which gave you a firmer hold on him.

When he saw your face, John B’s eyes softened a bit. He slowly moved back towards you, joining in with Kie’s yelling, “Break it up! It’s not worth it!”

JJ had beaten Rafe pretty badly. Blood was pouring from his nose, and a few bruises were becoming prominent on the Cameron boy’s cheekbones. Pope wasn’t doing too badly, either. Fighting wasn’t usually his scene, and he didn’t have much experience, but he landed a few good punches on Topper. Your boys were getting their fair share of it, too. Blood was dripping from a cut on Pope’s cheek, but it wasn’t horrible compared to Topper’s injuries. A ring of black and blue was beginning to form around JJ’s icy blue eyes, but again, the injury was minor.

John B was about to pull them back, but Kelce stopped him, “Rafe, Topper! Let’s go!” he yelled, attempting to retrieve the two boys from the fight. Luckily, Rafe and Topper listened to him.

“This isn’t over,” Rafe declared before Kelce forced him to leave the Cut.

When JJ and Pope walked back over to the three of you, Kie locked eyes with both of them, “Never do that again!”

“He was about to hurt Y/N!” Pope tried to reason with her.

“You think we’re just going to let Rafe Cameron get away with that?” JJ shot back, eyeing you.

You leaned into John B, placing your head into the crook of his neck, “I just want to head back to the château,” your words came out muffled, but he understood you. The next thing you knew, the five of you were piling up into the van, on your way to John B’s house.

When you arrived at the château, you went inside to wash your would of any salt water before rewrapping it. John B had followed you as the three others decided to stay on the front porch. When the door was shut, he spoke up, “Y/N?”

“Yes, JB?” you looked up and smiled.

“I, uh... I’ve had this crush on a girl for awhile now. I know this sounds so cliché, but every time she walks into the room my heart flutters, and her beautiful smile lights up the room. The thing is, I’m not very good at reading signals. What do you do when you like a girl and you want them to be your girlfriend?”

You swear you could feel your heart shatter in that moment; John B was in love with someone, and it wasn’t you. No matter how much it hurt, you turned to him and smiled, “Most girls like it when you’re honest to them. If you really like her, tell her. She’d be a lucky girl to have you, John B.”

He smiled, “I’m so lucky to have you as my best friend, Y/N. Thank you. I’m going to go call her now.” he kissed your cheek and rushed into his bedroom.

Not even 15 seconds later, your phone began to ring. You looked down to check the caller ID. It belonged to John B.

“Hello?” you answered, confused.

“Hey, Y/N. I, uh... I’m in love with you, and I just want to let you know that... well, I’m down if you ever want to be in love with me.” John B told you, his voice steady but full of nerves at the same time.

“Wait, John B... are you serious?” you asked, chuckling slightly.

“100 percent,” he whispered.

“Well, I guess you’d be happy to know that I’d be glad to fall in love with you.” you smiled, and you swear that you could hear the grin on John B’s face through the phone.

“I’m so glad. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to hang up and squeal like a little boy because I am so happy to get the girl of my dreams.”

“Okay, JB.” you laughed.

“You never heard that from me, though!”

a/n; this one was tough to write because i’m currently suffering through writer’s block, but i wanted to get an imagine out. i hate this ending but it’ll do. i have some pope requests, so those will come out next!

tags; @jjmaybnks @jjtheangel @maybankiara @jjouterbanks @jjmaybank @downbytheouterbankss @downbytheouterbanks @drewstarkey @supremestarkey @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @johnbroutledge @johnbsflowr @johnbstwinkie @kiespogues @heywards @jiaraforever

if you want to be added to my taglist just let me know!

if your name is in black lettering, it just means that i could not find your blog, so just let me know your new username!

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