#(the when to sit and kneel and stand is a matter of local custom and not rubrical)

[wearentdelulu]

Into you~ Chapter two🔞

After class Kook heads to the gym for his afternoon workout. He’s not complete if he doesn’t work out at least four times a week. It’s just what he’s used to. As he finishes up his last set he gets a call from Yuna. He sets down his dumbbells and removes his gloves. “Yeah?” He says taking a seat on the bench.

“Come over.” She didn’t ask it was more of a demand. “I was busy yesterday but I’m free now.”

“Yeah I know. I’ll be over after the gym.” He hangs up and goes back to his session. He hasn’t fucked in almost four days now and he definitely needed to get it out of his system today. To be honest he could call anyone else to have just as a backup, but he doesn’t just fuck anyone. Not with all these STD’s going around. He’s very strict about where he puts his dick. He had a few one night stands here and there when he goes out partying, but he needs to have someone on standby. Whenever he feels horny they need to available and Yuna usually is. Some women in the past couldn’t handle him in the bedroom. Sometimes he does go overboard but that’s only because he’s a man with needs. His biggest rule is to never fuck virgins. He learned his lesson before when this girl became so dick whipped he had to actually lie to her about having a girlfriend. It worked for the most part.

After his workout he leaves and goes straight to Yuna’s house. Lucky for him she didn’t live far and he couldn’t wait to get to her. Maybe he was addicted. Not to Yuna just to sex in general.

He walks in without knocking and sees her sitting on the couch scrolling on her phone. “Gotta shower first.” He announces as he walks off to the back of the house to freshen up from being in the gym. He strips off his clothes and gets under the hot water. The water relaxing his muscles from his intense workout session. He hears the bathroom door open and sees Yuna’s body outline from behind the shower curtain. She takes a step closer pulling back the curtain to reveal Kook standing there naked and wet.

“Did you miss me yesterday?” She ask stripping her clothes to join him. She had hot body to be fair it’s just when opens her mouth that’s when the headache forms. He rather see her mouth opening for his dick not for useless words Kook didn’t care about.

“Not really.” He say bluntly as he washes himself. “I just wanted to fuck that’s all.”

“I know I know I got caught up with work, but I can make it up to you.” She steps in the shower standing in front of him. “You look tense. Or are you just horny.”

“Both.” He replied.

She kneels down in front of him. The shower water soaking her face. Kook grins as a thought crossed his mind. He plans to destroy her tonight, but first he’d let her make it up to him. Technically it’s her fault for not being available when he needed her in the first place.

“I think it’s time you put that mouth to use.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anya was exhausted. A day of nonstop lectures and class work. And to make matters worse she had to work a double today because her co worker got sick. No one likes doing double especially after a long day of school. She works in retail at a local thrift store. It’s not a hard job and it’s hardly ever busy. She just didn’t want to spend the day here when she could be in the comfort of her own home preparing for Kook’s stream later today.

She goes through the same motions as she works. When the door rings she looks up searching for a customer to help her out of her boredom, but instead she sees her best friend.

“Hey Anya you look bored.” Haein says taking a seat next to her behind the counter. Haein always made herself comfortable no matter where she is. I guess that’s expected after being best friends since middle school. Haein was very rebellious. She’s the type to prank you with hot sauce in your underwear. It’s was concerning……yes but she’s not a bad person. Her tomboy appearance makes her very intimidating to other people and Anya always feels safe with her. One time Haein tracked down all the bullies that said and did horrible things to Anya and she slept with their dad’s. She recorded it and blackmailed them until they finally left Anya alone. Yeah Haein is definitely something….

“Yeah this sucks. I just want to go home and-

“Watch Kook yeah I know.” Haein cuts her off. “You can always rewatch it later right?”

Anya shakes her head in disbelief. Technically she could but why would she do that? She’s never missed a stream and she doesn’t plan on it. The last thing she needed was for someone to think she’s obsessed with him when she isn’t. He’s just her comfort when she wants to feel relaxed and chill after a long day. So it’s not strange that she wants to make sure she doesn’t miss a single second of it. “No I rather watch him live. It’s better that way.”

Haein laughs as she hits her vape. “Yeah I think I get what you’re saying.” Haein looks at Anya. “You cut your hair?”

Anya blushes slightly. It wasn’t a big deal she just wanted a change in her appearance that’s all. She nervously strokes the freshly cut ends.“Um y-yeah I had too many dead ends anyway.”

“You look pretty.” Haein smiles as she strokes her hair. Her eyes full of affection and a hint of something else. Anya didn’t know what….

“It’s nothing Haein.” Anya say grabbing her phone avoiding eye contact. She didn’t do well with receiving compliments, it always made her feel like she didn’t deserve to hear it and it made her uncomfortable and weird.

Haein looks at her silently before standing up. “I’ll grab us some snacks.” With that she walks out the store. Anya scrolls on her phone going through Instagram when she got a notification. It’s time for Kook’s stream. He started it a bit earlier than usual. Quickly she grabs her headphones and connects them to her phone.

“What’s up guys missed me? Yeah I know you did. I’ve been thinking about you guys all day.” He laughs at the comments. “Ah that’s right you all can thank our beautiful viewer ‘A’.

“Hey ‘A’ I hope you’re watching this baby because this is for you. I’m glad you look up to someone like me. You have good taste. And now that I think about it……..maybe one day you’ll be able to actually get a taste of me in person, hm?”

What. The. Fuck. No that didn’t happen. The stream literally just started. Could she be hallucinating? Is this a dream? Is he high? What’s going on? Surely he wasn’t talking about her right? Nope she wouldn’t believe it. There’s no way.

“Mmm ‘A’ I wonder what that stands for. Don’t worry if I ever see you in person I’d make sure you tell me. You’re my biggest fan after all right? Makes me wanna reward you ’A’……in a special way.”

Anya dropped her phone.

“Nah I don’t think she can handle me. I’m not an easy person to handle.” He mumbles with a grin on the microphone. “If you want me ‘A’…….go ahead and have me then.”

Why did he whisper like that in the last sentence? Why did he reply? Why is he flirting with her? Why is he so goddamn sexy? His voice alone could get millions of women pregnant. Anya’s heart pounds so loud she’s sure she can hear it. How can he have the audacity to be so straight forward like that? Especially in front of all these viewers. And the way it sounded he thinks this is funny. Oh so it’s funny to embarrass her like that in front of all his viewers? Well technically they don’t know who she was but still she has a right to be upset…….okay okay fine she’s not really mad but she needs to be just to make sense of what just happened. Any emotion is fine right now other than complete shock, so she chose anger. What other emotion would be appropriate? She doesn’t know what came over her but she immediately text’s JMochi.

“Did you see what he just said?! Is he always this straightforward?!? Who does he think he is!? Oh my god this so embarrassing.”

JMochi: 😂

He’s…….laughing? He straight up sent a laughing emoji. What about this situation is funny? Is he just as smug as he was? Is this all some sort of joke?

JMochi: yep he’s just the same in person. What’s the problem don’t you like the way he flirts with you? Come on I know deep down you do.

“It’s about having a little bit of respect. It’s just very cocky of him.”

JMochi: that’s Kook for you.

“Well tell him to shove his cocky attitude up his ass”

Oh no did she really say that? It just came out of nowhere. She’s worked up and high off adrenaline, she didn’t mean to be so blunt. She’s no better than him. Anya mentally slaps herself for getting so worked up.

JMochi: oh I will

“No no it’s okay that was rude of me I shouldn’t have said that.”

JMochi: no he needs to hear someone else tell him how much of an ass he is sometimes. I’ll relay the message.

She sat there in shock. One thing about Anya is that she isn’t rude or ignorant, but sometimes there’s a switch inside of her that she forgets to turn off sometimes when she’s feeling overwhelmed. It’s like a coping mechanism. When she feels anxious or overwhelmed she’ll find some way to become defensive or upset, because in Anya’s mind she’s mostly right. Mostly. But she didn’t want Kook to think she was this childish and immature teenage girl who has an online crush on him. That’s so embarrassing and she didn’t want to make it seem-

“Oh so it looks like our dear viewer ‘A’ thinks I’m cocky.” He scoffs.

“You have a smart mouth on you ‘A’, I wonder what else your mouth can do.”

She was so close. So close to screaming at the top of her lungs in this thrift store. Why is he so confident, and why is it so hot? She wanted to tell him to shut up, to be quiet but her fingers froze over the keyboard. A part of her wants him to keep going. He’s giving her attention for the first time ever and she didn’t want it to stop.

He laughs, his voice a low growl. “Shove my cocky attitude up my ass, huh? If that wasn’t my type I’d be piss about it. You’re lucky ‘A.”

His type? So she’s his type?! Is he enjoying this as much as she was? Or was Anya getting ahead of herself like she always does? Her delusional brain wants to believe that he’s getting off on her behavior but then again he’s done things like this in the past before with other viewers. Why would Anya think she’s special? It’s his job to be this flirty with his fans. That’s what makes him so popular in the first place. It’s like an idol doing fan service, they get paid to do it. It means nothing. She takes a deep breath and for once she leaves his stream to focus back on her work.

She gets up and starts to clean up around the store. Kook’s voice replaying in her head on a loop. He’s too mesmerizing and she’s too weak for it…..for him. A little bit later Haein comes back with snacks. Anya looks up and sees the bags of food she brought. This is what she needs right now. A distraction from whatever the hell just happened earlier. “You’re a lifesaver.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She left?” Kook says in surprise as Jimin comes in his room. He definitely thought the flirting would have her squirming and blushing right now.

Jimin laughs, a hint of amusement on his face. “Yeah guess she didn’t like your attitude.”

Kook scoffs and throws a hand in the air as if he didn’t care. A lot of viewers didn’t like his personality and they’d do the same thing. They’d bitch and complain about how “inappropriate” or “offensive” he’s being and they’ll leave. He didn’t care in fact he liked the fact that he could get under their skin like that. But with ‘A’ was different. Too different, and Kook didn’t understand what it meant but he knew that he wanted to continue to tease her. He wanted to push her buttons until they popped. Call it boredom or whatever but Kook didn’t understand why he enjoys this. He continued his stream regularly as he normally would, secretly waiting for the moment when Jimin would come in and tell him something ‘A’ said but he didn’t. She really left? Was he too harsh? Did she get offended? Kook didn’t know but he found himself waiting for her. He already knew exactly what he’d say once she came back…….but she didn’t.

Later that night Kook is up staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Why is he craving her attention like some kind of teenage boy in heat? He just wanted to continue bickering with her and hopes to get the last word. Yes he was petty but it was fun. Fun to see someone other than his friends talk to him like that. He grins to himself thinking of what else he should say to her tomorrow. What would make her flustered or upset. He wanted to find out himself. It might seem like he’s being an attention seeker, and so what if he is? He’s bored and ‘A’ is making things interesting. Very interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anya goes through the motions of her morning routine, thoughts swirling with the memories of last night’s stream. She feels stupid for thinking this means anything and she knows it doesn’t. If she expects disappointment she won’t get disappointed right? That’s her motto and she sticks by it. The way Kook was feeding her delusions made her feel like this was all just a dream and she’d wake up from it.

She heads to her kitchen to find something to eat. Unfortunately for Anya she can’t cook at all. It’s sad because she’s almost 25 years old and she still can’t make a simple meal without something burning. As unhealthy it sounds she lives off frozen meals and instant noodles. At least it’s better than nothing. As she adds the water in her instant noodles her phone dings. Hm? A notification from Kook’s instagram. Yeah she had his post notifications on……She clicks the notification and it opens up to his instagram story. As she analyses the photo her heart starts racing. Is she seeing things? Is this real? Why would he post this?

It was a picture of the top of his head. Obviously covering up his face. There’s a text in the corner of the post that says “A”. That’s it. Just the letter ‘A’ with a smirk emoji next to it. Okay he definitely did that on purpose. She wasn’t insane. This was definitely for her. She thinks for a moment about what to do next. Her first instinct was to text JMochi but she decides against it. She didn’t want to run to him every time Kook does something like this. Maybe she should ignore it? Yeah that sounds like a good and reasonable idea. She’s not being rude or anything she just simply didn’t see the post. She’ll just pretend that she didn’t see it, that’s the only way her brain can handle this situation properly.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey did ‘A’ text you or anything?” Kook says walking into Jimin’s room without even knocking.

“Uh no she didn’t why?”

Kook hums acting casual. “Just asking.” Kook was more than positive that she saw the post. If she’s a longtime fan like she said she definitely seen it. He doesn’t even know why he made it in the first place. So he just blames it on boredom again. “So who exactly is this girl? Do you know her personally?”

Jimin looks at him with a grin on his face. “Maybe, why?” Jimin knew why but he wanted to hear him say it out loud.

“No reason.” Kook heads towards the door, but before he could reach for the door nob he stops.

“So do you have her number or something?” He asks trying to sound uninterested but obviously he really wants to know more about this mystery woman.

“Why do you care?”

Kook looks offended. Care? No no Kook doesn’t care. The chances of him caring are so low. Can’t a guy just ask a question without things being more than what they are. Kook turns around to face him his expression emotionless and firm. “I don’t care I just asked a question.”

“Seems like you care bro.” Jimin replies not even trying to hide the smile on his face. He knew Kook was a bit interested in ‘A’, she made things fun and exciting for him recently.

“Fuck you.” Kook leaves slamming the door. He doesn’t know why he’s upset but he feels like he should be right now. What the fuck was Jimin’s problem? He can’t answer a simple fucking question? He goes through his contacts and texts Yuna to help him let out some of his frustration, but before he could send the message he stops. He deletes the message and puts his phone away. Something about fucking Yuna right now didn’t sound appealing to him in the moment so he opted to drink. Storming into the kitchen he grabs a bottle of beer and chugs it down. It helped a little until he heard Jimin’s footsteps get closer and closer. He huffs, he doesn’t need to deal with him right now.

“She texted me.” Jimin says entering the kitchen and that made Kook put the can down. He avoids eye contact with Jimin, he didn’t want him to speculate that he cares about this situation. Because he doesn’t by the way….yeah he doesn’t.

“Okay?” He says nonchalantly but waits for Jimin to continue. After waiting a few seconds he starts to hear Jimin laugh. He fucking laughed right in his face. “I’m kidding, but the look on your face right now is hilarious.” That’s it. Kook had enough of Jimin’s childish behavior recently and he didn’t want to deal with it anymore. Without saying anything it snatches Jimin’s phone from his hands searching for what he wanted.

“Hey what are you doing-

“Where’s her number? I know you have it.” He goes through almost every app to see anything related to ‘A’. “I’m over playing cat and mouse with her while you’re in the middle. I’ll text her myself.”

“No can do. I promised I’d keep her identity a secret.” He grabs his phone back. “I’m a man of my word.”

Kook runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “You aren’t exposing her identity just give me her information and let me talk to her directly.”

Jimin considers it for a moment. “Mmm I don’t know……she seems pretty cool and you’ll scare her off.”

Kook sighed knowing that Jimin wants something in return. He’s just a greedy as he is. “I’ll give you a shout out on my stream.” Jimin has been asking for a shout out for months now but Kook never budged. He didn’t think Jimin’s audience and his were similar so he never did, but now he really wants ‘A’s’ information. No one has ever got him this excited in a while and he wants to continue being excited.

“Deal.” Jimin smiles going through his phone. “I want a real shout out by the way, don’t disappoint me.” He pulls up her username on the streaming app. “Here this is her.”

Kook looks at the name and messages to make sure it was legit. After being satisfied with it, it takes the name and puts it in his phone. He briefly thinks about all the ways he could tease her and he grins at the thought. This was going to be fun….

[flatbstanley]

Your Guide to Catholic Weddings

Y’all, I love a good wedding. In recognition of this fact, I thought we’d take a break from the heavier stuff and peek into the future. You may recognize some brides and bridesmaids, but no spoilers—you won’t see who they’re marrying.

Also, I’m writing from a US perspective. There are Catholics around the globe, so in reality there’s much, much more variation than you’ll see here. But this post reflects my experience as someone who’s experienced Catholic culture in multiple parts of the US.

All right—let’s take a walk down the aisle!

The Traditionalist Catholic Wedding

Format: A simple marriage ceremony followed by a full Latin Mass. One popular tradition at the end of the Mass is for the bride to place her bouquet in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary and spend a few moments in prayer.

Attire: For the bride and bridal party, shoulders and upper arms MUST be covered. Wraps or cardigans may be used to accomplish this if a suitable dress can’t be purchased off the rack (particularly for bridesmaids). Head coverings are required for women, and accordingly, elaborate bridal veils are common.

Music: The Mass itself is usually chanted. For the processional, popular choices include Charpentier’s “Te Deum”, Parry’s “I Was Glad,” and various hymns to Mary. There’s also “O God Beyond All Praising,” one of the very few post-1960 hymns deemed acceptable to traditionalist Catholics.

Fun fact: The Catholic Church actively discourages the bride being walked down the aisle by her father, saying that it’s a relic of a time when women were treated as property. In the US it’s permitted as a matter of “local custom,” but many traditional Catholic brides opt to walk with both parents or with their soon-to-be spouse.

The Standard Issue Catholic Wedding

Format: A brief wedding ceremony inserted into a typical Catholic Mass.

Attire: A little more modest than a non-Catholic wedding, but you can get away with bare shoulders, depending on the priest. Veils are treated as a fashion choice rather than a required covering.

Music: Recorded music and secular songs (except for some classical pieces) are strictly prohibited, but within that parameter, choices vary widely depending on the couple’s preferences and the abilities of the musicians. Popular choices for the processional are “Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring,” “Canon in D,” Clarke’s “Trumpet Voluntary,” and various works by Handel.

Fun fact: It's customary to invite the priest to the reception (where copious amounts of alcohol will be served—Jesus turned water to wine at a wedding, after all!). At the most recent wedding I attended, the priest was last seen donning a purple cowboy hat and joining a conga line.

The "Oops, I Married a Protestant" Wedding

Format: Similar to a standard Catholic wedding, but you only get the first half of the Mass: the Liturgy of the Word, aka Bible readings. Also a few prayers, most notably the Lord's Prayer.

Attire: Same as the standard Catholic wedding.

Music: Similar to a standard Catholic wedding, but priests are generally more agreeable to including Protestant hymns when one party is, in fact, a Protestant.

Fun fact: The Church has no issues with a Catholic and a Protestant having a full Mass for their wedding, but somebody will have to tell Grandma that she can't take communion in a Catholic church even though she's been doing it in her own church for 80 years. You may also have to endure complaints from Protestant relatives regarding the "Catholic calisthenics" - sit down, stand up, kneel, stand up...

The Catholic Beach Wedding

Format: Catholic weddings MUST take place in a church. This can present a problem if your heart is set on a beach wedding. But if you have the money and the logistical know-how, there’s a solution: Find a Catholic church located near the ocean and have your wedding there.

Attire: Ranges from traditional to modern, but generally on the loose, flowing side due to the beach setting. Also, expensive—if you have the funds for a destination wedding, there’s generally money to burn on a gown.

Music: You have two choices: take your chances on the local musicians, or fly in the musicians of your choice (provided that the hosting church will even allow that). Aren’t logistics fun?!?

Fun fact: Because most priests are reluctant to perform weddings for people they don’t know, Catholic beach weddings are usually BYOP—Bring Your Own Priest. Given the massive amount of paperwork that is required to perform a wedding outside your home diocese, the poor guy will probably need a beach vacation after everything you’ve put him through.

[septembersung]

A crisis of faith cannot be met by liturgical protocols:

“In my own diocese, there has been much attention to issues of posture and protocols of purification and presentation. At one point some years ago, I said that more attention was given to posture than to receiving sacraments worthily and with preparation. Recently, the Liturgy Office has been involved in a Lenten Blitzkrieg of statements and bulletin announcements regarding the necessity of remaining standing until the last person has received Communion. This is a rubrical extremism that goes beyond the toleration expressed by the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments.

There has been some reaction to the full court press of the Liturgy Office of the Diocese, but to no avail. The question of standing and watching while everyone receives in the Communion Rite has alienated some Catholics who are worried about respect both for the sacrament and the individual spiritual moment of the communicant. They do not feel that standing and staring is a reverent response to communicating. A man in my parish said he would stop coming to church if I made him stand after receiving Communion instead of kneeling immediately as he has all his life. I told him that I was not a “liturgical martinet” who would enforce postures at such a juncture.

One priest told me he disliked the new efforts at enforcement of the rubric because it seemed to emphasize a “horizontal” approach to Communion as opposed to a “vertical” one. In other words, we were to be attentive to who has received so as to be in some kind of fellowship (of the standing posture) with others at Mass. (And what about those who don’t receive?) Thus, our personal encounter with the Real Presence we had just received was somehow conditioned—or wasn’t complete—on our communion with others.

This reminded me of a conversation I had some years ago with a priest slightly older than I am who said, “We were told that the Real Presence was in the community; I don’t get all this attention to tabernacles.” Of course, fellowship with others is a very important thing. But does that mean we discount the Real Presence in the tabernacle or in our own bodies as we say, “I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof”?  There is an old prayer in the Raccolta that reads, “Lord, I adore you within me.”

The flurry of activity about forbidding kneeling or sitting immediately after receiving the Eucharist in favor of waiting until everybody sits or kneels seem to be a misplaced emphasis. However, another priest said that since one rubric had caused so much agitation, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “The bishop will have to get after the parishes without kneelers, because the rubrics say we should kneel during the Eucharistic Prayer, and the churches with hidden tabernacles will have to obey Canon Law and make them visible to the entire congregation.”

From his lips to God’s ears! Given the catechetical crisis implied by Catholics who either don’t believe in the Real Presence or cannot articulate what the Church teaches, I would think it would be a priority to emphasize a proper reverence for the Sacrament by kneeling at least during the Consecration. The absence of the tabernacle in the main body of the church does not fulfill what is required by law and does not teach the proper respect for the Body of Christ and what Pope Benedict calls, “the greatness of the gift that consists in His Real Presence.” Genuflection in the direction of the tabernacle is an act of worship that would be a remote preparation for personal sacramental communion. In some churches the ambry where the Holy Oils are displayed is more prominent than the tabernacle.”

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 8

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous → Part 7

Next → Part 9

Feeling a body shift beside you, you slowly began to wake from your deep, dreamless sleep. With thin rays of sunlight shining through the crack between the curtains, you let a content, sleepy smile toy at the corners of your lips as you rolled over in Keishin's arms and came face to face with his sleeping form.

It had been over a week since you had started staying with Keishin and even though waking up beside someone every morning definitely took some getting used to, you were a little surprised by just how quickly it was beginning to feel normal. Not only that, but you never slept better than you did in Keishin's bed with his warm, calming presence beside you and strong, protective arm draped over your waist.

Eyes closed and lips slightly parted, Keishin was fast asleep. His chest rose and fell rhythmically and at some point during the night, just like every other night, his hair—which wasn't tamed by the headband while he slept—had gotten all messed up and a few strands had fallen into his face.

Whenever you woke up before him, you would always take the chance to just look at him. While he slept, he seemed completely and utterly at peace—no longer burdened by the stress of coaching volleyball, working at the store, and no doubt whatever extra problems you had brought into his life. You thought back to the time you had watched him sleeping on the couch in the back room and sighed happily; the thought of how much things had changed in such a short period of time truly putting things into perspective.

Unable to keep your hands to yourself any longer, you reached out slowly and brushed the loose strands of hair out of his face and tucked them behind his ear—the same way you had done when you two had first had sex and the same way you had done countless times since.

Keishin could sleep through a thunderstorm or the sound of you calling out his name, but as soon as he felt your fingertips graze against his cheek, his eyes fluttered open. Upon noticing he was awake, you made your touch more prominent and caressed his face.

"Good morning," you whispered, unwilling to raise your voice any more than that and ruin the soft ambiance of the early morning.

Keishin leaned into your touch and smiled softly. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," you answered as you ran your thumb along his bottom lip, internally debating if you should ambush him with kisses now or wait until he had woken up a little more first. Chuckling to yourself over your own thoughts, you caught yourself staring at his lips and directed your gaze back to his eyes. "I'm just looking at you."

Keishin scoffed as he pressed a gentle kiss to your thumb. "Why?"

"Because you look so beautiful when you're asleep," you told him matter-of-factly. "Not that you don't always look beautiful," you added quickly before he could make some sort of sarcastic comment.

Keishin rolled his eyes before pulling you flush against his chest and kissing you. "You're such a sap, you know that?"

You laughed. "First, I'm dramatic. Now I'm a sap. What's next?"

"I have no idea." Keishin shrugged the best he could while lying down. "What I do know, however," he glanced at the clock, "is that we need to get up and get ready."

Following Keishin's gaze to the time, you huffed sadly when you noticed there were only five minutes left until your alarm would go off, forcing you to get ready to open the store. "Can't we just stay in bed all day?" you asked, hoping you could convince him to stay under the covers with you.

"Not unless we want to go broke and end up living under a bridge together."

You chuckled as Keishin crawled out of bed, the temptation of slapping his ass gently when he stood up almost too much but you managed to control yourself. "Together?" You grinned. "You'd stay with me even if we were both dirt poor?"

Keishin rolled his eyes playfully at your takeaway from his statement. "Of course." He collected his clothes before making his way around to your side of the bed and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But I think I like plumbing and heating too much to give them up, so let's shower and get ready."

Sitting up in bed, you cocked an eyebrow. "You want to shower together?"

Keishin flashed a devilish smirk as he headed for the bathroom. "Purely for the purpose of saving water." He disappeared into the bathroom and seconds later his boxers flew out and landed on the floor, indicating he was completely nude. "But if you hate the planet, then I guess that's on you."

Your cheeks flushed red but nevertheless, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and began removing your clothes as you approached the bathroom. "Sure," you laughed as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself and let your eyes wander over Keishin's wet, naked body as he stood under the steaming water. "If it's for the planet, how could I possibly say no?"

20 minutes of passionate kissing and soapy hands exploring every inch of each other's body later, the two of you towelled off and finished getting ready before sitting down for a quick breakfast together.

"So the volleyball team has a game today, right?" you asked Keishin as you poured milk into your bowl of cereal. Keishin nodded. "What time do you think you will be home?"

Keishin thought for a moment before answering. "Probably around six or seven tonight. The game is right after school so it shouldn't run too late."

"Okay." You sat down across from him at the table. "Should we get dinner after I close up the shop?"

Keishin nodded again. "Sounds like a plan."

With a few more bites of his breakfast, Keishin was setting his dishes in the sink, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, and rushing down the stairs and out of the building to start his day.

As you listened to his footsteps stomp down the stairs, followed by the sound of the back door opening and closing to indicate that he had left, you sighed to yourself and sat back in your chair. It was then that you took a minute to think about everything; your job, your boyfriend, your living arrangements, your tattered relationship with your parents. In the span of a few months, your life had completely turned upside down, but that wasn't the part that freaked you out the most.

What really got you thinking was the fact that, even though your life had done a complete 180, you had never been happier; which led to the constant internal questioning about if you had ever really been happy before you had met Keishin at all, or if this was just a different kind of happy—a happy that only a stable, supportive significant other could provide.

Before you had the chance to get lost in your thoughts, you snapped out of it, finished your breakfast, and headed downstairs to open the shop and begin your day.

As usual, you dealt with the typical morning rush of people stopping in to grab a coffee or other various food items on their way to work or school. Once the mid-morning slump hit and the customer traffic went way down, you took the time to do some routine cleaning and inventory. By now, you were like a well-oiled machine when it came to the daily task of running the store.

Around noon, as you were finishing up stocking some shelves, the front door opened and a very well-dressed man strolled into the store. "Hello," you greeted him, standing from where you were kneeling in front of the shelves and dusting off your pants.

The man gave you a once over, eyeing you from head to toe. Without so much as an acknowledging nod, he brushed past you and toward the full-length fridges at the back.

Assuming the man just wasn't in a chatty mood, you took the empty boxes to the storage room. When you exited, the man was already standing at the front counter, impatiently tapping his foot while he held two bottles of water in his hands.

"Sorry for the wait," you apologized. "Just the waters today?"

The man just nodded and let out a grunt.

Trying not to take his dismissive attitude too seriously, you rang up his purchases and gave him the total. Instead of pulling out his wallet, however, he just gave you a dirty look.

"That's a little expensive for two bottles of water, don't you think?" he retorted.

You didn't know what to say to that, so you shrugged. "I'm sorry, I don't make the prices, sir," you told him. "I just work here."

Huffing loudly, the man fished his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out some bills before tossing them haphazardly onto the counter. "Fine. Don't forget my change."

Before you could open the cash register, the front doors opened again and a woman dressed in a beautiful dress with her hair done up elegantly walked in and stopped beside the man before you. "Have you paid yet?" she asked the man, who was either her boyfriend or husband based on the way she was hanging off of his arm. "I just realized I'm out of cigarettes."

"I'm just paying now," he told her, his face softer than you had seen it yet before he turned back to you and asked for the brand of cigarettes that his partner smoked.

Spinning around, you felt your stomach twist at the sight of the empty dispenser of cigarettes, meaning that you were out of the brand he had requested. Of course, the delivery for that day hadn't come in yet, making your job even harder right now.

Plastering the warmest smile on your face that you could muster, you turned back to the couple. "I apologize, but we are all out of that brand. Can I get you something else?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "No, everything else tastes like garbage."

"I see." You stepped back up to the cash register. "So just the waters then?"

The man nodded. "I guess so if your shitty little store doesn't even stock up on popular brands of cigarettes." He watched you intently as you opened the register and counted his change. "I knew we should have stopped somewhere other than this hole in the wall."

As much as you so desperately wanted to rip this man and his spoiled girlfriend a new one, you bit your tongue instead and grinned as you handed him back his change. "Here you are." You dropped the coins into his outstretched hand. "Have a wonderful day."

Neither one of them said anything in response as they turned on their heels and marched out of the store, noses turned up at everything around them. As you watched them get into their fancy car and speed away, you wondered if they treated everyone like that or just lowly corner store workers like yourself.

Trying to let the incident slide off of you like water off of a duck's back, you returned to the remaining tasks on your to-do list and tried to forget all about being treated like a second-class citizen.

As the day turned to late afternoon and the after-school and after-work rush hit, you had found your way back into your groove again.

An hour or so before closing time, and roughly around the time Keishin would be returning, you heard a pair of heels clacking against the tile floor and stood up front behind the counter only to come face-to-face with your mother. Dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse, it was obvious she had just come from work, but your attention was more focused on the envelope she was holding out to you.

"This came for you the other day." She didn't even bother with a simple greeting even though it had been weeks since you had seen or spoken to her or your father.

"Oh, okay." You reached out and took the envelope from her. Turning it over, you felt your heart jump into your throat when you read that it was from the University of Tokyo.

You looked up at your mother expectantly but she waved you off. "Don't ask me what it says, I didn't open it," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "Why didn't you tell your father and me that you applied to the University of Tokyo? It's a very good school."

"Because I didn't do it for you," you said as you tucked the envelope into your back pocket. "And I certainly didn't do it to go to law school or anything you guys would approve of."

Your mother narrowed her eyes at you. "Then why did you do it?"

"To play soccer," you answered, your mind immediately going to the conversation you had had with Keishin while taking inventory together. "And because I told someone I would."

Your mother eyed you for a minute more, waiting to see if you would reach for the envelope again to open it. When you made no indication of sharing your application results with her, she hummed softly. "Well, whatever that letter says, you should take some time to seriously consider what your next step is going to be." She turned to leave but stopped halfway to the door and looked at you over her shoulder. "It's not too late to make the right choice. Think carefully before you throw your life away."

With that, your mother exited the store, leaving you with a mixed slurry of emotions and no clue how to deal with any of them.

Pulling the envelope out of your back pocket, you set it down on the counter in front of you and stared at it. Whatever was printed on the single piece of paper inside would set a course for your future . . . although you were unsure if you even still wanted the future that this piece of paper could give you.

All you wanted was to be happy, and all you knew was that Keishin gave you that.

Anything more felt like asking for too much.

Anything more felt like a gamble that wasn't worth the risk.

[hpalways]

Lyrical Mess || Venti

BARD Venti was someone you looked up to. Words would spill from his mouth like a waterfall, for he never ran out of lyrics and rhymes alike to sing about. You aspired to be like him, to one day have talent in bringing people together through music. Unfortunately, your mind was a little underwhelming in the creative department. Phrases and sentences jumbled up like a mess, trapping you in a sea ridden of any motivation whatsoever. 

"The distant lands, the people, the trees, they all truly resonate in me!" he sang, filling your ears of the melody. He was currently sitting on the huge tree in Windrise, rocking back and forth on the branch. Meanwhile, you were on the ground and leaning against the bark, trying to write down anything that could be worth mentioning. However, the page was as blank as it could be, an empty void of nothingness. The quill in your hand shook and squeezed, because the frustration was beginning to take its toll. 

"Venti, I can't think of anything! Don't you have any secrets that could help me?" you whined, pulling the ends of your [h/c] locks. Grabbing the lyre that was brought everywhere with you, you thrummed the strings of it, playing an ugly chord that halted his own singing. The golden instrument glimmered against the sunlight, nearly blinding your eyes. After spending almost all your savings on it one day, it easily became your most treasured item. 

The male leaned forward from the branch, his two aqua ombre braids waving along with the wind. Green eyes on you, they crinkled as he grinned in excitement. In his usual white top and teal shorts with stockings, his style was enough to make him recognizable. Not only that, but he was as adorable as when you first met him. To have him by your side... well, you certainly looked like a nobody. "Well, why are you sitting there on the ground? Come up here and you'll get loads of more inspiration." 

"Really?!" you exclaimed. Your gaze brightened as if you had met God and you quickly scrambled to your feet. He nodded, putting his hands on his hips in pride. "Okay. I'll go join you then." Rolling up the sleeves of your shirt, you knitted your brows together in perseverance. Readying for the climb ahead, you lifted your foot to take that first step. 

Goodbye. You were ready to die. Venti had made it look so easy with those fast and flexible limbs of his, but you were trembling to the core at this moment. The tree was much taller and wonky than you expected, gnarly and dangerous for someone with no balance like you. Panting heavily, you tightened your hold on your lyre as you heaved yourself upwards one last time. You crashed on the spot beside the bard and hit the hollow trunk in annoyance. Flinching at the pain inflicted more-so on you, you rubbed your hands as you tried to settle down. 

The view surely was nice. Mondstadt, the city of Freedom, could be seen from here. Meadows and small hills laid out across the board too, luscious and full of natural beauty. The color of it reminded you of Venti. 

"I can't do this," you groaned, rubbing your face in weariness. "I'm too tired to even think."

"You quit too easily," he said, frowning. Feeling all ashamed suddenly, you drooped your head and sighed. There was nothing worse than getting critiqued by someone you looked up to. "Oh, I know! I have a few other secret spots to show you. What do you say, my friend?"

"Alright. I'll give it another shot."

Before announcing to you what he was about to do, he scooped you up with those nimbly arms of his and jumped straight off from the branch. A scream threatened to leave you, but you kept quiet as you held onto him for dear life. He was crazy! But that might just be the reason why he was so popular in Mondstadt. 

With a thump! at the landing, Venti smoothly reached the ground with two legs still working. Carefully releasing you, he took out his own lyre from under his arm. It could not be said the same regarding you. Wobbly support below, you kneeled down and calmed your racing heart. 

Once you gained your grounding again, that was when it was time to set off. Following the bard on his tail, you watched as the dirt path turned into pavement and then into bricks. "Mondstadt...? Are you sure this will be helpful?" you questioned, squinting at the mundane scene in front of you. Living here your whole life, it was all too familiar for you to believe you'd find anything here. 

"Just trust me, [Y/N]!" he said, turning his head over his shoulder. Giggling softly, he returned to look ahead and marched onward.

You assumed it would be an unknown spot that could exhilarate you instantly. But of course, reality bit the dust. Standing in front of you was the local tavern, crowded of drunken adventurers. "You just wanted to stop by for a drink!" you said, whirling around to glare at the male. 

He stuck a tongue out and winked, leaving you more infuriated. This was the guy you idolized so much? He was such a sham. "Trust me... trust me..." he repeated, pulling your arm with him. The door opened up and he slipped in, with you stumbling after him. His grip never once loosening, he waltzed towards the bartender and dropped coins of mora. "The usual, please!" 

Securing a table to sit at, he set you down and sat directly from you. As you were about to spew words of insult, he beat the punch. 

"I'm serious. This is one of my secret spots," he explained. He nudged his head at the back of the tavern, where an empty space cleared of tables took place. "I sometimes perform here and so whenever I come here, I would get a good amount of ideas."

He had a point. You had been there too when he performed here, intrigued and immersed by a new world introduced by him. Slumping your shoulders slightly, you mutely nodded in agreement, tapping the quill against your chin. He grinned at your reaction, as if he was relieved to have escaped your wrath.

As he sipped his drink in peace, you began to write down some ideas. It was silent at the table, but it was not uncomfortable or awkward. You had known Venti for quite some time... and though you still admired him tons, he became a dear friend. Ink met the parchment and you scribbled them down quickly, as if your life was on the line. This proceeded for a while until he slammed his first empty glass down. When showing the notebook, you fidgeted in your seat as you waited for his thoughts.

"Whisking her away, he drowned the walls. She said he said to come to the dock..." he read it out loud. His features tightened and he let out a nervous laugh. "Um... er... it's not bad... How about this?! Why don't you perform a song from Teyvat! Singing a song always inspires me. You can use the stage over there! I'm sure the customers would love a lovely song sung by the beautiful maiden [Y/N]."

"So it's bad," you deadpanned.

"It's not!" he argued, panic shown in his eyes. "It could use some improvement, but anything can be improve, you know?"

"You don't need to lie to make me feel better," you sighed, pulling yourself up from the seat. Lumbering up to the stage, you strummed the strings of your lyre, catching the attention of a few customers. Breathing in deeply, you closed your eyes and started to sing a song. The song you heard Venti sing a few times. The song your parents sang as they lulled you to sleep. The song that wasn't yours, but everyone's. 

You were a fake. A lyrist who couldn't form her own words. A singer with no direction to turn to. 

When the song ended, a round of applause exploded from the audience who were smiling in approval. They all enjoyed it, except you. Giving them a quick bow with a smile plastered on your face, you then exited the stage and rushed through the tables, passing Venti and straight out the door. Running to the gates and not stopping once until you were out in the wilderness again, you slumped to the ground in shame. Angry tears blurred your vision and you crumpled the poor grass upon your hands. 

"You performed it perfectly..." he whispered, his small figure crouching down next to you. When did he get here? "What's upsetting you?"

"I messed up," you told him, glancing at the lyre in your hands. "I can't do a single thing right."

"No one noticed it."

"But... I did. It doesn't matter if no one else realized it, I know of my mistakes. And I'm so sorry Venti. I've been such a hindrance towards you today. You don't deserve listening to my complaints. Nor do you deserve cleaning after my mess." More tears slid out, slipping down your cheeks. "I just wish I was you."

A thumb swiped the droplets from your face, his skin warm to the touch. Startled, you watched him grow slightly sad. Why was he making that face? It looked so... empty... hopeless. He knew of something you didn't. "You don't want to be me, [Y/N], trust me. And I like you the way you are... so please, don't say that ever again." He straightened up and all traces of any misery was erased from his expression. "Let me cheer you up a bit! I can go sing a tune for you! I think that should do the trick for some inspiration."

[xxsmokeyy]

Levi x Drug Dealer! Reader (F) The Lunatic And Her Dog

genre: smut, canonverse — Levi’s early recruitment

summary: being a former thug, the new soldier is given a task to ingratiate himself, finding an old associate from his past along the way.

tw: vices (drugs, cigarettes), rough sex

wc: 12,039 holy fuck (smut is only latter half)

“Coderoin. A strong, sweet, and highly addictive drug that’s been circulating in Stohess District for about four years or so,” the Commander says, voice gruff as he explains the content of the unwrapped paper filled with azure tablets.

Coderoin. Levi thinks he’s heard of that thing not long before. He just can’t quite put his finger on it.

“The Military Police Brigade failed to capture the primary smuggler of this substance multiple times, and it’s only recently come to their notice that it’s gotten reformulated to a liquid solution,” he continues, pinching one of them in his fingers, rolling it back and forth to study its appearance.

Levi can only stand back in ennui, the lack of interest reverberating from his aura. What the fuck is he supposed to do with that information?

Erwin places the tablet back to the paper, propping his palms on the tabletop, and stares deep into Levi’s unamused eyes.

“You’ll have to hunt this drug dealer down.” The curt order comes. Levi cocks a brow in confusion, wondering why the blond would make him do such thing.

“That’s the MP’s job. I thought I joined here to kill those filthy titans, what are you going on about?” he quizzes in confusion.

Erwin sighs, lids shutting close before he massages his temples. “The higher-ups are still not exactly in favor of your recruitment in the army, and as much as you hate buttering people up, you’ll have to deal with this case to secure your postion,” he makes intelligible, getting into the details so to clarify things out.

The raven haired man before him listens intently with a permanent scowl on his face, arms crossed over each other. He’s most definitely not liking the idea of seeking those damn swines’ goodwill. Just when he decided to trust the guy.

“You’ll earn Darius Zackly’s approval once you catch the little felon,” Erwin speaks truthfully. Of course, the Supreme Commander who so hates him, of all people. “It’s just this once. Trust me, you’ll have no more problems with your stay if you solve this case,” he even adds to convince the man. Not that there’s any way around this matter. Levi has to do this to prevent further threats in his position and to clear his reputation as well, by hook or by crook.

“You basically want me to suck up their asses,” he concludes, not a question, more of a full decisive statement. The Commander grunts his affirmative response, still getting used of his soldier’s sharp tongue.

“Tch. To hell with that.”

—

The afternoon later, he’s walking on the stony pavements of Stohess District, left with no choice but to follow the Commander’s orders.

Ever since the death of his last friends, Farlan and Isabel, just a few weeks back, things have gotten ridiculously out of hand regarding his enlistment. It almost arrived to a point where he’s wanted in court for seniors to debate whether he can stay up top or should be sent back to the Underground, considering his heavy crimes.

Holding a poster in hand, he studies the illustration keenly. It says the words WANTED: Notorious Drug Lord in big, thick, and bold letters. In the sketched picture is a person wearing a hood. From what he’s told, the wanted criminal has been in the hide for years now, but never once left the district.

“That man never shows himself. That portrait is from a witness in a pub near a shanty town. Some say he often appears wearing a cloak.” That’s what a Military Police officer said to him when he asked for the dealer’s whereabouts.

A man? He squints a little to see the image better.

It’s a bit difficult to determine since it’s only a roughly sketched side profile with a hood worn, blocking the hair, but he’s sure as hell those are certainly not eyes of a man, looking ultimately feminine and provocative. He doesn’t know, but those eyes are somewhat achingly familiar. And those plump lips that held a suggestive smile? He’s fully convinced that it’s a woman.

“A woman? That’s in no way a fair lady. Women here in Stohess stay at home and polish their husbands’ boots.” That’s what the Military Police officer said as well when he told it’s a woman.

Fucking sexists. Not that he cares, though.

Levi stops by the said pub, pushing on the saloon doors before walking to a table of three men, boisterously laughing like crazy. It’s dark and warm inside, the trademark ambience of local bars eating up the whole place. “Any of you seen this guy?” he lazily asks, showing the piece of paper to their faces.

Their eyes dart on the illustration before all of them fall silent, throwing looks at each other, and Levi can swear he could hear the rusty gears in their pea sized brain turn.

When they keep quiet, he almost surmises they turned mute upon seeing him and is about to leave them alone, finding them completely useless. He just wants to finish this task, and quick.

“Heard ya were a nasty criminal in the Underground,” the guy on his left comments and drinks the beer at hand, briefly pausing, “ya can’t seriously be turnin’ y’er back on that kinda past,” he smugly continues.

Levi’s brows twitch in irritation. How is that relevant to what he asked?

“Just answer the damn question,” he orders assertively and slams the paper onto their tabletop. The guys exchange gazes once again like it’s some sort of stupid inside code.

“What makes ya think ya can fool us? We know you’ll arrest us off the bat if we answer, young’un,” the man continues, his company still speechless. What, is he the leader of their pack or something?

The way they stare him down with the most condescending eyes is ticking him off to ridiculous measures, he could’ve knocked them out cold one by one already if not for the fact that they obviously know something, and nobody else is in the pub other than them and the staff.

“I don’t give two shits about your work. I’m not asking for you, I’m looking for this guy right here,” he jabs a finger into the poster, causing every one of them to look at it once more.

“I ain’t convinced—”

Levi has had enough of their refusal and decides to pull out his knife, kick the very chair the garrulous man is sitting on to drop him on the ground, beer spilling everywhere, before using the dirty sole of his boot to shove the man’s cheeks against the wooden floor.

He kneels down on his right knee, his other foot still stepping on the man’s face, and points the tip of his freshly sharpened knife just a few centimeters from his eyeball, which earns him a whimper of surprise.

“Gonna stop yakking any minute now?” Levi asks. It’s a bit surprising to him that the bartender of the pub didn’t meddle the whole time for pressing on his customers, oddly similar to the lukewarm nature of his hometown.

The two men freeze in fear, afraid that if they do anything to counter the soldier’s menace, their good friend might suffer and go blind. How worthless.

After a couple more seconds, the old geezer eventually gives in and speaks. “That’s our dealer,” he admits, voice weak and shaky. Levi cocks a brow and listens, finally getting the information he‘s aiming for.

“Guy’s been selling drugs that originated from the Underground,” he adds.

“Coderoin?”

“Yeah. He never shows up to us buyers, only sends brokers to deliver.”

“That’s not a man,” Levi corrects again, slowly getting convinced it’s someone he knows from way back. The descriptions about the wanted dealer and the way she arranges things precisely match, not to mention the poster looking exactly like her.

“I told you I won’t end up in brothels, Levi. I created something, and it’s doing great,” she says with a proud smile painted on her colored lips.

“What is it?”

“Coderoin.”

But the soldier only sounds out of his tree in the listeners’ ears, and they immediately speak to nullify his scarcely credible conspiracy theory. “There’s no way. Women here in Stohess—”

Yeah, he gets it. If they don’t believe it then let it be. See, this is why they haven’t caught the culprit for the past years, because they’re looking for a damn male.

“Where was she last seen?” Levi asks, completely dismissing their words, but the guy tries to oppose the small detail once again. “That’s a man—“

“Where was she last seen?” he repeats, cutting off his hostage’s words while he flattens with his boot the man’s cheeks in such a way as to crush his skull, emphasizing what really is important here and what he’s actually asking for. Levi ignores how the poor guy yelps in pain, waiting for intel he can benefit from.

“I don’t know!” he truthfully says, face already deforming from the forceful contact, having difficulty breathing.

“She lives at the skid row,” the bartender chimes in as he wipes on a glass, turning Levi’s head his way. Someone who knows her real identity, huh?

“How do you know?” he keeps his foot down and quizzes, looking for the authenticity in his words. The runt might be fooling him for all he knows, a trap to lure him in.

“I live there,” he simply says. “I don’t have business with her so it won’t be bad if I rat out on her,” he shrugs and turns his back to return to working. The guys listen, puzzled about what they’re talking about.

The ravenhead thinks for a moment, then rising to this heels, kicking away the head he was previously pulverizing before heading out the bar to make off.

In the end, none of them was substantial but the barkeep. And in Levi’s humblest opinion, the guy whom he mostly talked to should drop his so-called friends who didn’t even have the guts to drag their pal out of his plight, being one who gets rid of ineffective people himself.

He looks up at the gloomy afternoon skies once he exits, the clouds moving as he thinks about a variety of stuffs from his past. Envisioning and etching into his brain the familiar silky locks, rose red lips, and a pair of sultry eyes, he then starts walking.

Now, to find you.

—

With the help of the villagers’ directions, he’s arrived at the said skid row by foot. It surprises Levi a lot, having not expected to see a number of resemblances between the Underground and the surface. The visible corruption is no different from down there, with certain rundown areas openly exposed, just a couple blocks away from extravagant neighborhoods. That just goes to show that people’s amoral natures don’t change wherever they go.

He scans his eyes around, studying the dark and uninviting alleyways, the narrow paths, and the compressed townhouses. It’s almost as if the sun refuses to shine here.

This place isn’t any less than a junkyard, he thinks, coming from someone who has just escaped from one.

He takes a step forward to head to the flat where you apparently reside, only to get stopped by a bunch of gangsters, another guy putting his hands on Levi’s shoulders. An animal touching him with filthy fingers, something he hates the most.

“Where do you think you’re going, kid?” the insect says as he looks down on the soldier’s short stature, showing not a droplet of respect. “What’s a scout soldier doing here? There ain’t no titans here, boy!” There’s nothing they love to ridicule more than suicidal people under the disguise of a uniform.

He immediately uses his clean hands that would unfortunately be dirtied as he removes the assaulter’s arm away from him, squeezing it with great force before twisting the whole limb around with full intentions to dislocate it.

The man screeching in pain, Levi gives him a good kick in the face, causing him to fall to the ground, unconscious. Of course, there’s three more left standing. Even if they’re rendered speechless and horrified, he still can’t let bothersome runts on the loose.

One of the delinquents attempts to swing a fist at him, a sorry excuse for a punch by the way, only to get hit right in the guts, disgusting spit flying everywhere. The other tries to slash a knife, which he only snatches away with nimble fingers before hitting a nerve on the neck to knock the guy out cold.

The last one, hairline already receding and looking grey, tries to hit him with a bat. It’s a pitiful sight to look at, really, how they all think they could give him a good beating when they approached him. He crouches down to dodge the weapon, dragging his dominant leg on the floor to kick sweep the old fart off of his toes, head falling against the solid concrete.

Dusting his hands to rid himself of the muck he gained from fighting them, Levi stands upright in vexation and observes as they either squirm or doze off on their own. A flock of vagrants that has got to learn how to keep their hands to themselves.

The thing is, he has had enough of drunkards trying to get on his way. He just wants to get his job done, bring you to those impotent MP’s and get this reputation Erwin kept saying to secure his position for a lifetime.

When finally sets foot on your alleged doorstep, he tries for three knocks, waiting for a response. As much as he wants to finish this task, he doesn’t want to barge in your suite, if possible, because he’d also hate it if it’s done to him. He tries again, focusing to catch with his ears any faint sound.

Minutes pass by and he turns the knob open to find out it’s unlocked the whole time, all his deliberations of keeping still and going down the drain.

It’s quiet and empty.

Levi freely enters, keeping an eye out for attackers, if there are. It’s small, but enough for one person.

He goes with the assumption that you live alone, and maybe don’t have any flings. He still remembers how you latch onto different guys back in the day to have them arrange deals for you. Yeah, you had a way with your words, especially towards men. The epitome of a social butterfly.

But maybe it’s not like that anymore, now that you’re in a city like this with rich people out and about.

How did you wind up here in the first place?

He keenly observes as he goes further in. To your credit, the place is relatively clean. No scattered trash, no messy clothing, and the furniture are well organized. Well, that’d be essential to make an innocent front and hide your junk evidence. But still, impressive.

Nothing really seems malicious at first glance. So far, no one’s coming out, and there are no drugs to be found.

He stumbles upon two more closed doors. He finds that one of them is a bathroom, and the other your bedroom. Aside from those, there’s nowhere else to go. He enters your personal space, looking for something peculiar.

Your bed is fixed, sheets folded nicely. You had a study desk, and a bookshelf. Based from the covers’ titles, they’re all about science. Tch. It’s a dead giveaway. No matter how much you tried to make an oh-so normal living space, those books would be a suspicious lead.

Now what? You’re nowhere to be seen.

Is she home?

He looks around the room looking for an ashtray or even a fire because somehow, it reeks of burning cigarettes, like it’s being consumed at the moment.

Something finally clicks inside of him. Of course, you’re a damn drug lord. An infamous one, at that. You’ll need someplace to hide once all hell breaks loose, and someplace to hide your stuff.

Levi uses his boot to lift the carpet he’s currently stepping on, and finds, just what he expects, a trapdoor. Clever, but not too much.

He then vigorously kicks the door open, which nearly bursts it off of its hinges, if not already. It swings down loosely, losing its assistive joints. He ignores the wooden ladder provided and instead jumps down, dropping on his knees.

“Now you gotta fix that,” says a soft and seductive voice that is definitely no stranger the young man.

Levi raises his gaze and finally finds you, sitting on a chair in the opposite end of a long presidential table, smoking a mint cigarette, and the stench reaches his nostrils. That’s where the ashy pong was coming from.

The secret chambers appear almost pit black from the lack of natural light if not for the candle sconces built on the walls all around, and the lone lantern situated on the table.

He scrutinizes you for a moment, meeting your luscious, glowing eyes. Your hair is styled just the way he remembers, luxuriant, untied, and flowing in sync with your movements. Your plump lips shaded red, fierce like how you want it. Your figure voluptuous by your feminine puff sleeved dress, black front laced corset over top hugging at your curves. For a dress so dainty, you ultimately still looked provocative.

Actually, he kind of understands how it’s unbelievable for such a lady to be a criminal of ill repute. Although nothing much has changed with you external-wise, your youthful attributes have only matured beautifully, and you’ve indeed grown up to be an enchanting woman.

“It’s me. You’ve found me,” you claim, feeling his strong stare burning into your skin. What, does he not recognize you now?

It’s totally the other way round. Every single one of your physical features under the warm candlelight’s reflection keeps rekindling memories inside his head, some just flat out inappropriate.

“So you are the goddamn drug dealer,” he states, not any less than a confirmation.

“Drug dealer is a bit brusque, don’t you think?” you comment with a smile. Anything but to be called a drug dealer. How cheap.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I prefer to go with narco hustler, rolls off the tongue just right,” you suggest. It sounds plain dumb to Levi’s ears, you had zero taste. “Okay, maybe it doesn’t,” you take back upon seeing his seriously bored expression. He has always been one so hard to read, but now he just looks evidently repulsed.

Levi stays standing across of you, resting his arm on top of the other, and leans back against the ladder. Maintaining respective distance, he decides to linger for a bit, intrigued by what stories you must got.

“Rumor has it you’re one of them now. Guess it’s true,” you posite as you observe his physique, wearing a uniform jacket with the wings of “freedom”. Couldn’t he have joined the MP’s out of the three? Lame.

The young man watches back as you lift your wrist up and bring the stick to your delicate lips, inhaling a lungful before blowing the smoke upwards, and he could easily feel how you held yourself up with superiority. Nothing new with the headstrong woman that you are.

“What the fuck are you doing up here?” he inquires right away, genuinely curious of your sudden disappearance years ago. He knew full well you weren’t dead, but he never got his hands on news about you.

“Huh? What the fuck are you doing up here, too? You surely downgraded from being a crime boss to a pongo’s dog. Seriously?” you retort cheekily. Last time you checked, he was doing well with his gang, couldn’t he have stayed that way?

He massages the temples of his forehead with closed eyes. Your words are making him think back to his decisions, but not too deeply. He reluctantly contemplates if it’s alright telling you things, but chooses to do so. You had a spot in his life, too, no matter how small. And he’s going to arrest you anyway.

“Lot of complications. It was all supposed to be a job to kill the Section Commander then we’d get granted citizenship…” he trails off, unsure of whether to go on or stop there, “but things took a turn.”

“Hmm?” you hum, waiting for his continuation.

He stays silent and refuses to say a word.

“Alright then. Well what about… who was it? Farlan and Isabel?” you ask cluelessly, thinking if you got their names right.

He sighs. It was exactly what he was trying to avoid. “They’re in the Survey Corps now as well?” you quiz, partially interested. You already know the answer. Who would leave their beloved boss? You just know for sure it won’t be them.

“They’re gone,” he averts his gaze, expertly hiding his emotions away with thick pride.

Your eyes largen a little in realization. “Oh. Sorry.” He catches you put out your cigarette by prodding its cherry into the glass ashtray. There’s still about half left but you paid no extra mind, and it says a lot about your well heeled state.

Enough about him. “What exactly happened to you?” Levi questions, and you prop your elbows on the tabletop, interlacing your fingers together before resting your chin on them.

“Bought citizenship,” you start off, never taking your glance off him. He‘s hot all right, still a sight for sore eyes. Heavily improved, even. It has been five years, after all. You admit, he aged like the finest wine there is.

“A pain in the pockets, yes. But worth it.” You pucker your lips and furrow your brows together upon remembering your old situations.

“Underground folks were becoming cheapskates day by day! Can you believe it? They’re trying to buy two-fifty for, what, five bronze coins? My stuff are as expensive as your maneuvering gear, you know!” you complain, memories of being wrongly paid years ago flashing through your brain.

That’s life. At least you’re well off now. That’s what’s important.

He rakes his eyes around the room and finds stacks and stacks of packaged tablets, same ones as those Erwin showed him.

“Coderoin, huh?” he comments, testing the word on his tongue. Nothing special with the name, probably came from the scientific components. He doesn’t give a rat’s ass.

The warm temperature from the window restricted room urges him to remove his jacket, and so he eventually does. You try not to raise both your eyebrows in captivation as you see the outlines of his muscular torso tracing through his clothes, his veiny forearms exposed by his cuffed shirt.

“I haven’t released it yet, but I just finished formulating a liquified version to easily shoot it up the veins for a more elongated and ecstatic experience,” you proudly brag to divert your attention as well, and Levi cocks a brow in confusion. Haven’t released it yet?

“The MP’s already know there’s a new formula,” he informs, recalling what the Commander said when he was educating him about it earlier.

“What? Already?” you ask, gasping in surprise. It’s a given that word spreads around here fast, but you’re doing your best to work in confidentiality. Some big-mouthed brokers of yours must be babbling.

“Yeah.”

“See how famous I am?” You giggle, letting the issue slide.

“Everyone thinks you’re a man.”

“What?” you ask again, completely scandalized, eyes widening in repulsion. They cannot be serious. You never knew that! Not even your associates told you!

It’s a bit amusing to him how that almost looks like it matters to you the most. Do you even know why he’s here? You don’t seem to be questioning his out of nowhere presence.

“You’re a drug abuser. It’s natural for people to think that way,” he says, eyeing your reactions.

“That’s mean! I’m not an addict. In fact, I don’t even do those often,” you oppose a matter-of-factly. It’s not half a lie, you probably had one the past week, but aside from that, you never took it recently. This stuff is for the customers to abuse. You don’t really have an avid addiction to it.

Honestly speaking, being one for dirty felonies ending just a couple months back, he couldn’t care less what kind of profession you had, as long as people find their own way to live, he’d immediately—but only mentally—give kudos to them. It’s hard enough trying to survive in a corrupt system.

You lived all by yourself back then. You were a tough and independent one, he’d give you that. You helped him with particular deals. Important ones.

In actuality, it’s solely because of you that he got his hands on certain armaments like the ODMG. It was hard to obtain those, seeing as it’s a highly illegal trade and costs an arm and a leg. Though on the plus side, it made his stealings more convenient and less a pain in the ass.

But he wouldn’t say you’re good friends, nor are you on the same gang. Associates, he would say. At times, something even more than associates. Oh, it’s not anything close to romantic. Just something beneficial on both sides.

“I mean at least I’m not a squaddie now, playing soldier like you,” you add, playfully mocking him. Levi throws you a glare of the same energy. It’s not like he wanted this. He’s got no choice, it’s better than going back to that sunken town, alone at that matter.

“You don’t show up to people here,” he surmises from what he learned. As you rise to your feet and walk to the piles of boxes, you fail to notice how he gives your form a runover, from head to toe, his eyes involuntarily staying on some shapely areas.

“This is where I bring my brokers. I’m not going face-to-face with my dear buyers now. What if they sell out on me? Can’t trust people nowadays.” It’s true, because back there, everyone was a criminal in their own ways. You grab a small bag of the tablets and turn around to show him, dangling it mid-air.

“But I’m telling you, people here are as generous as lords. It’s basically easy money everyday,” you say and throw him the drawstring bag, which he catches with one hand in maximum proficiency, the action causing his arms to flex a little. Oh, those muscles. Suave.

“You’re living in a dumpster.”

“It’s called a sentimental value,” you dismiss.

Levi pours some out and takes a moment to observe the packed drugs on his palm, the blue color even and smooth. He’s never found himself drawn to this kind of thing, but he understands the usage. Something to escape from reality for a short period of time.

“I never expected you to turn on your past, of all people,” you mindlessly comment, causing him to look at you with furrowed brows. Though you never meant that the bad way and just wanted to speak your mind, your choice of words still strike a nerve from within him.

Why the fuck are people on the surface keep acting like angels as if they’re any better? At this point, he’d prefer his hometown people over some half assed drug addicts.

This should be enough for today. He carelessly chitchatted for long, almost forgetting his true purpose of being here. It’s too bad he has to ruin your oh-so perfect life. Well, there’s not much he can do about that as it’s how the cookie crumbles. Dragging people down to rise up the ranks is part of the norm in this wretched society, it’s just unfortunate he has to do it to you.

“Say, what if you join me? Leave the Corps and let’s team up. You can run the errands, and I stay here to formulate,” you continue to propose, fully unaware that you ticked him off just a second ago, bringing him back to earth.

“I can’t. Apparently, I’m a soldier now,” he straight up rejects and starts to walk up to you, handcuffs ready by his belt.

Taken aback by his deadpan refusal, you tilt your head in an attempt to understand. “Well then, if that’s what you want.”

“What I want is for you to come with me,” the soldier finally admits, showing the restraining shackles he has at hand.

Realization dawns upon you, and you feel a bit dense. Oh, right. He did welcome himself into your home, completely unannounced.

A dry and bitter chuckle leaves your throat continuously, dissolving into a long thread of laughter that echoes around the spacious room, resembling those of a mentally deranged woman. Levi’s forehead knots in a mix of puzzlement and irritation as he waits for you to calm down.

Your fit of entertainment starts to boil down, tears of satiric bliss filling your ducts. You wipe them off timidly, building up the manner of being a prim and proper lady. “Sorry… that was funnier than I expected,” you apologize, and he couldn’t quite understand what you want to come across with. He waits for your explanation.

“Buzz off, will you?” you ask of him once you finish composing yourself.

“What?” the man quizzes.

Your face turns dead serious as you fish a tiny pouch from your dress’ pockets, throwing it lazily to the table, contents spilling mid air due to the loosened tie. An abundance of golden coins shower all over the place and fall suspendedly to the ground.

“I’m telling you to fuck off. Now,” you don’t flash him even the smallest of smiles as you curtly give him the order.

You’re bribing him.

And fuck, did you drive him round the twist, he has never felt so insulted his whole life.

Is it because you’re doing well than him now despite the honorability of occupation? Is it because it’s coming from someone he knows from the past? Is it because of your tone so ludicrously condescending it’s making every single drop of blood in his body boil?

“Need more? Why don’t we negotiate upstairs with the amount that will send you away?” you carry on with casting aspersions on him.

What a jackass. After all you’ve done for him? There’s nothing you hate more than shameless traitors, and this guy in front of you doesn’t bat an eye about being one.

Meanwhile, you were rubbing to his face the looming difference between his stability and yours. And of course, it doesn’t matter whose reputation is better, because both of you were miscreants at one point in life. The only distinction is: you gladly kept on with that line of work, and he was forced with his.

Levi takes big strides to reach your form, dropping both the jacket and the drugs he was holding. He’s furious, but he refuses to show. All he wants now is for you to shut your filthy mouth.

He lunges at you and slams you against the wall, wrapping his fingers around your neck. An involuntary whimper slips past your lips, and it certainly feeds his ego to see you so helpless. “Shut your damn mouth,” he bellows, tone imposing the dangers you could get from rubbing him up the wrong way.

You’re not about to give him what he wants. He’s barking up the wrong tree here, treating you so indiferrently for what? For letting him in and being hospitable? For offering him a generous partnership? Can you believe this guy? He’d throw your acquaintance off the window for his own sake. Selfish crab.

“Hate to see your ally so successful?” you attempt to breathe out, one hand trying to unclasp his fingers, one hand aiming to claw your nails at his face. He slaps it away before you can make contact and increases pressure.

Your eyes well up from the suffocating pain as he robs you of air supply, choking you tightly and pressing roughly. Crap!

“That’s—all you got?” you struggle to challenge him, same time trying to pull the slightest amount of oxygen into your lungs you can catch on.

Your dare does absolutely nothing but piss him off. Wow, you’re a bitch to try and control. Levi has the means to tighten his grip. It doesn’t even matter to the MP’s if he brings you dead as long as he can hand over the evidence. But he won’t go that far, because that far would be killing you off.

Staying that way for a moment longer, he examines your facial expression, still brave and never surrendering. He then lets go of you, but only by throwing you to the hard ground. Your back hits the flooring and you squint your eyes in sharp ache, all the while desperately breathing for any available air.

“Rot in hell,” you curse at him in great detestation. Lying back, you gently caress your neck as if to heal the reddened skin from the harsh force he applied.

Levi sighs, collecting himself, and kneels down in level with your weakened body. Maybe he went too hard on you. He has got to keep his temper at bay.

“Sorry,” he genuinely says. It’s not everyday he says that word, but when he does, he accepts that he’s mistaken. A bit surprised, you peer at him with a bleary vision, finding a scowl on his face as he admits his wrongdoing.

You swear you were ready to laugh it all out and forgive him, if not for the fact that he’s currently grabbing the handcuffs, still determined to arrest you. How sincere of him. What exactly was he apologizing for again?

You wait for him to scoot over, discreetly regaining steady breath as you stay laying down. You’re not the best at countering someone combat wise, but growing up a female in the Underground has taught you a couple moves enough to stall you some time to escape.

As he finally crouches beside you, you jolt up to sit and sling two of your arms around his nape and under his armpit, pulling him towards you before throwing him beside with the strength you can manage to utilize.

When did you learn that move? It baffles Levi a little, but he won’t let you have your way. His weight isn’t something you could overlook, that you’re dragged along with and on top of him. The moment you try to quickly prop yourself up and make a run, he grabs your waist and rolls over to bring you back down, straddling on top of you.

“I’ll kill you!” you spit to his face, once again feeling betrayed. You never once thought he’d drive you into a corner do this to you.

“That’s cute of you,” he says in graceful sarcasm. You fight him back with a piercing glare, but he only looks back at you with those apathetic, steel grey eyes. Nothing has changed within them, they’re still cold and indecipherable. It matches his personality well.

Apathetic? He can’t be all that bad, he’s just human. He has needs, one way or another.

You stick a hand out to pull his dark locks, and for once, you actually succeed. He hisses in irritation. He should have expected you’d put up a fight, but he doesn’t get why he’s just straight up pissed. Talk about annoying.

He doesn’t expect it when you forcefully yank him in for a deep kiss, the sudden motion causing your lips to crash together, freezing him in place. It’s all just to take him by surprise and then you’d gab the chance to run away in haste. Cheap trick, but worth a shot. If this will work, that is.

Earlier than he can try to push you away, you kick your knee into his abdomen and hurl him aside with all your might, doing your best to head to the ladder leading up to the trapdoor. But Levi is quick on his feet and kicks your leg to make you lose balance. Tripping over yourself, you fall toward the table, your stomach plowing into its side frames. He will never let you escape.

You inwardly curse him for being such a headache. Before you know it, your left arm is rashly held behind your back and you shriek in pain, your cheek shoved down onto the tabletop. Shit. He got you there.

“Can’t you be any gentler?” you ask, voice soft and of forged innocence, which is patently just an attempt to con him. He ignores you and instead starts wearing one part of the handcuffs around your wrist from behind. You think of anything to get yourself out of this. Chuckling dryly, “Hey… I told you already. Let’s talk things out,” you woo, but to no avail. Levi twists your arm a bit, not too much, but enough to shut you up. He sure is enraged.

A lock clicks from one of the shackles and you feel the cold steel wrap your frail wrist. It’s happening, the most humiliating moment for a criminal. You’re all tapped out of ideas—

with your limited field of vision, you scan your eyes around what you can see, finding a trail of drugs scattered on the ground. It must be from when he launched at you and tried to strangle you to death. Although you still don’t know why he did that, you bury the thought to the back of your head to come up with a plan.

—except one.

A smile creeps up your lips, one that appears when you just figured out something clever. Alright, then. Let’s see what else is enraged.

Not giving him the chance to lock both your hands together, from your held up position, you perk your bum up a little to make a feel for his crotch. Your thick cheeks hit something poking and you giggle in festivity. It so turns out your hunch is right, his bulge is, indeed, straining from inside his pants.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he stops dead in his tracks and questions, more like an order for a valid answer.

With your bended over form being perfectly convenient, you wiggle your ass and stick it up against his obviously aching groin, teasing it even more. It’s a shame you’re both wearing clothes, your titillating movements ending up just mere friction.

“My, my. How long has it been like that?” you jest, voice about half an octave high and femininely suggestive. His brows knit in pique and flips you over to make you face him and to put a halt to your indecent measures. You click your tongue in mock, elbow propped against the table to look up at him.

“What a naughty soldier,” you whisper with a satisfied smirk, and reach a hand out to pull his cravat, yanking him down and in for another kiss. This time, it’s you who won’t let him escape, with nothing else but a nice trick for women to prevail over men.

It makes his hackles raise how you try to enter his mouth with your probing tongue like you’re the one in foremost control. As if he’ll let that happen.

He pushes your tongue back and bites your lower lip, earning him entrance along with a quiet mewl. He then travels your wet cavern with his own, forcefully exploring every inch to show you who’s in charge, like always. There and then, he instantly distinguishes the mint flavored nicotine evenly mixed in with your sweet saliva. It interests him how five years have already passed, and yet you consistently taste the same. Up until here, you never dropped the habit of smoking.

You try to fight back and earn your place, hooking both your heels into his hips to draw him closer. Even if it’s utterly inappropriate and misplaced, you quickly feel your pussy drip with excitement. Everything feels so nostalgic.

Amidst the kiss, his palm begins to roam around your body, from your neck to your chest. Levi finds the corset a hindrance, and he takes note to go back to it later, maybe rip it apart as well.

He resumes exploring your body, from your tummy, to your clothed womanhood. It starts to rile you up and turn you on as he slips his hand under your dress, not bothering to lift it up, just blindly cupping for your sex. When he finally feels your panties, you know for certain he smirked.

“You’re not so frigid yourself,” he comments upon the discovery that your growing wetness is soaking the fabric. He slides one finger against your slit, your undergarment still in between. He gently rubs on it as he sucks on your soft lips, earning him quiet moans in return. What a nasty tease.

When you both pull away for air, you open your eyes to look daringly straight into his grey ones, and while you exchange stares, you also let go of his cravat and grab his hand as if to guide them deeper and further in. He finds that you’re more than just eager when you put his hand inside, now in touch with your intimate skin. He gladly takes your offer and tears your panties away, his vigor making you laugh breathily.

Levi plunges two fingers in without delay, and you yield in defeat, letting him do as he likes. He has no intentions of lurking around the corner. You let your head hang back as he does you with his slick fingers, moaning to your will when he hits your good spots.

He lets his unreasonable hate and anger dissipate into nothingness, allowing himself to be indulgent in giving you pleasure. It’s been so long that this almost serves as your reunion. He doesn’t mind that. Just as long as he keeps in mind his sole purpose of breaking in to take him with you.

The ravenhead watches you spread your legs wider, visibly aching for more as you surrender to him and give him full control over your body. He moves his dexterous fingers in and out, the rhythm exquisite like how you prefer it. It’s like he still memorized you the same. Your responsive hums are tempting and fervid, your bodily movements a subtle indication of a longing. He increases his speed, looking for an angle to rub you up good, and he knows he hit it right when you shudder a little, back falling to the table and grip losing.

He lets on with working his hand, your juices coating his fingertips as he jabs them in deep repeatedly. It’s a flattering sight to see you so lost and vulnerable singlehandedly by his mere touch, and he would be lying if he says it doesn’t turn him on.

Your sweet, melodious moans resonate inside the whole of the chambers, music to Levi’s ears. Your mouth partly hanging open, eyes in but a permanent daze as you struggle to crack them open. The way he has you going crazy is beautiful. You’re beautiful. Not half-bad-looking for a woman about to approach her thirties.

Out of nowhere, a mood ruining thought crosses his mind. He recalls you saying this place is where you bring your brokers. And since your neighbors haven’t found out your true identity and racket yet, having a clump of men visit your apartment could entirely be misleading.

It’s only natural that they think you’re some kind of courtesan selling your body. Knowing you, you don’t give a flying fuck if people think that, but with him, it doesn’t sit right. Who knows? Maybe you actually humor the same men every once in a while. Just look at what you’re doing now.

A grim expression materializes on his face. No, he’s not jealous. But in all honesty, he wants what’s his to stay his.

You couldn’t think of anything as he harshly thrusts his fingers into you, your body’s consciousness focusing only on the uprising pleasure, but when you’re this close to coming, all of a sudden, he pulls them out at once, grabs your hands and finally locks both your wrists together with the handcuffs before pinning them on top of your head.

Cruelly left hanging, a wave of disappointment rushes over your veins. “You’ve got to be fucking joking me,” you whine, genuinely annoyed as you’re already fully installed and waiting for your explosion. Did he do that on purpose? Yes. But to your surprise, he doesn’t do anything to lift you up or bring you with him to jail.

Brows furrowed and eyes dark, Levi unties your corset’s lacing in a rapaciously eager manner, harshly pulling down the garter of your neckline to let your boobs bounce free. Your eyes widen a little when he pulls your skirt up to gain thorough access of your fruity folds. You didn’t expect him to continue on, with you restrained, even.

“Just like the good old days, huh?” you tease, voice awash with prurience. Although this reminds you of those days, this is surely going to be a new experience. While handcuffed? You love it, and just thinking about him pounding you out as you’re unable to lay your hands on him makes your neck hairs straighten in great arousal. You’re totally into this!

He’s suddenly reminded of years ago when you’d come over to catch up with the latest trades, or simply just bring with you your babbling of the day. Oftentimes, the visit ends up in the bedroom, the couch, the kitchen.

You were both young, both helping fill each other’s primitive needs and desires, not the thinnest string left attached. You handled the whole thing casually, the whole thing being just lustful sex every once in a while. Fuck buddies. That’s what they call it.

Memories of your heated body rubbing up against his, lips messy on one another’s skin, hands everywhere, nude and naked—sometimes still completely clothed, fucking you against the wall, fucking you on the counter, and finally, you kneeling on the floor as you eat him up hungrily. All of those, just five years ago.

He’s only proven you haven’t changed despite the time difference when you kick your kitten heels away like you disregard its price, stretch your right leg out to reach his crotch, your foot making a feel for his huge bulge.

He looks down to his pants, your toes stroking his covered length invitingly as if to provoke it. “You’re one fucking dirty bitch,” he points out upon your indecorous actions, meeting your catlike eyes illuminating nothing but indiscriminate salacity.

“We’re not all that different, see?” you tell, never tearing your gaze off him as you continue moving your foot up and down. He’s straining so bad, almost making you giggle. Come on, Levi. You’re just as aching as me. We could use a quickie.

He sternly grabs your ankle to stop your lewd ways and keeps quiet until you speak. Does he really think he can stop you from acting so dirty? You then bring your chained wrists to your chest, gently massaging your exposed breasts with what space you can manage, giving him a little show you know he can’t resist.

“I mean, just look at you, wearing a cheesy cravat like it’s gonna make you look dignified,” you poke fun at him and laugh, flashing him a grin before seductively licking your lips. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, but is still unable to take his eyes off of your body as you continue to play with your very own mounds.

“Shut up,” he orders, stripping the authority in his tone. Oh… you know him perfectly well. It’ll only take one last trigger for him to fire away and spring into action.

“You shut up and just fuck me,” you demand candidly, the smile in your face disappearing in the blink of an eye.

You like to think he’s one hell of a dog as he listens to your whim, undoes his trousers, only dropping them so far because of his difficult, complicated, and inhibiting harnesses. What a costume. He glares at you when you raise a sly brow at him, cocky expression conveying the words: still wanna be a soldier?

Levi just wants you to shut up for real, and he victoriously does that by pulling your body closer to the end of the table, then practically ramming his huge dick inside you, his massiveness able to cover your whole depth when he mercilessly buries it in. A long and sonorous moan leaves your throat in the utmost pleasure. Shit, he’s so big! Your tight walls are forced to adjust, desperately stretching to adapt to his size.

“Oh, fuck!” you exclaim, throwing your head back to release your emotions, eyes clenching shut in nauseating pain. Overwhelming! Can a man in his age still grow? You didn’t expect this in any way. It sure hurts like a bitch, but that’s just one of the reasons why you love it.

The cadet starts moving in a pace that tells you he won’t be beating around the bush, quick and rough. The only thing you’re worrying about is the soreness that you’ll get once this is finished, because right now—you’ve said it two times—you love it.

His anger seeping as he forces his dick in and out of your fuckhole, Levi finds it an entertaining cabaret as he watches you, your makeshift play consisting of you opening your mouth wide to moan in fervor, whipping your head side to side, eyelids falling while he quickly drives you to the brink of insanity. One bewitching whore, he thinks.

He bucks his hips even faster and spreads your legs wider apart to let you have what you want, violent and aggressive. Like an obedient lady’s man, Levi spoils your carnality by licking his middle and forefinger to rub your engorged clit, his spit helping him circle the most sensitive spot in ease.

You arch your back up in surprise, your nerves receptive in alerting you of the littlest motions. He’s so good. So good that your brain is going blank, unknowing of what to do. When you squirm under him, try to shoot up and search something to hold on for dear life, only to fall back against the table, your manacled hands suddenly add up to the gratifying thrill stirred with powerlessness. It makes Levi smirk for a fleeting second.

Not so free now, are you?

Simultaneously, Levi deepens his thrusts and starts to rubbing your clit directly to intensify the sensation, back and forth, up and down. With fervent eyes, he feasts on your body as it loses control, tits bouncing from his relentless humps, pussy unendingly leaking. Out of reflex, you try to wriggle away, but to no avail. You’re losing your mind by his marvelous stimulation, and you remember just how he feels like before.

The humidity is starting to take over your bodies, and you both feel hotter. The dark room, the rattling of the lantern on the table, sweat beginning to break through your skins, his stifled grunts, your loud wails, both your heads full of lustful desire. Who knew an apprehension would end up like this? Purely lewd. Seems normal to you, though.

The telltale signs of your upcoming orgasm appear. Your walls envelop around him tightly, your moans longer and hitching, your breaths shaky as you catch it and whatnot. The immense pleasure that keeps gradually stacking up inside your veins finally snaps free, and you come with unruly convulsions. Eyeballs rolling to the back of your skull, your cunt contracting around him, he doesn’t stop, and fuck is it overbearing.

His dick reaching the end of you, his merciless thrusts unwavering when you’re obviously trembling uncontrollably, he’s a damn ruthless lad. The amount of spasms you receive is livid, you so wanted to applaud yourself for choosing the perfect guy. Exceptional taste.

Your high eventually tones down and you’re back to awareness. The demon stops moving soon as well, deciding maybe you’ve had enough.

You gasp for breath after losing your grip from the mind boggling experience. It’s been so long since you’ve had amazing sex, and when you say so long, you mean excruciatingly long years. You study him as he looks back at you. Still so dominant, isn’t he? Refusing to get off the same time you do.

Alright. You’ve had enough mindless nooky. Now it’s time to break free from his clutches. From your lied down position, you then proceed to distract him with some ramblings.

“You better not be fucking your comrades like this,” you quip, collecting yourself.

“I’m not like you,” Levi answers and pulls out, thinking about how much men you’ve entertained your whole life. You cock a brow upon hearing his smart assed reply and mock him again, a giggle escaping your mouth, “Gonna keep acting so clean?” He should know not to continue wanting to look like a saint. He’s not any different than you, for shit’s sake.

“You have a screwed up background, Levi. You can’t seriously be thinking your superiors will be in favor of you just because you lick their boots,” you honestly advise. Disgusting. One moment he’s leading his people, then being ordered around the next.

It’s this again. You shamming like you’re so immaculate. He’d prefer it if you get off your high horse.

“I’m giving you a chance, just quit and—“

“If you keep running your damn mouth, I’m going to make use of it,” he cuts you off before you can continue offering him a deal. It’s not that you genuinely believe he’ll go with it, you just want to stall him because you’re only playing by ear. One wrong move and he’ll stop you dead in your tracks.

His words pique your interest. Does he mean that in the sense that you think it is? “Oh yeah? And how?” you push his buttons to give it a shot.

Levi shows you what he means through grabbing you by the nape to yank you up, then dropping you to the floor, pretty face nearly shoved to the concrete. It hurts a tad, your knees hitting the ground roughly, but your eyes almost immediately dart on the bunch of azure tablets scattered everywhere, three of them within your reach. Perfect!

Quickly, you snatch them with both your hands in one fell swoop, and Levi miraculously misses out on your sneaky motions. You hiss a little in pain and close your palms together tightly when he pulls a fistful of your hair to hoist your head up. Forced to make eye contact with him from below, you momentarily meet his gaze brimming of disrespect before he dicks your mouth down with his length.

He pushes your head to his groin and pounds, so deep and so rash that you literally feel him hit the back of your throat. Tears pool from your ducts as you’re forced to take him inside your mouth. But he doesn’t get it wrong, because he knows you like it, of course.

With full intentions to reach his own end and cum on your pretty tongue, he shoves his erection into your warm cavern and tightens his hold on your now messy locks. He eyes you with resounding authority as you’re down on your knees with fettered hands on your lap, dress still on but tits bare and pouching outward from your neckline, looking up at him with glistening eyes like a good, well-behaved girl. It madly turns him on seeing you like that, what a view.

His fierce stale eyes prod you to bravely blink the tears away and independently move to your own will, proceeding to suck him with stupendous obedience. Fine then, you’ll go along with him. Nothing wrong about taking your time.

Levi throws his head back a little from your sudden motion, bobbing your head back and forth in harmony with his pumps, but quickly returns his gaze to you. You gladly eat his whole size without hesitation and keep your body still, nipples fully peaked in eagerness.

You’re always so damn good, just as he remembers. Never going without a challenge, the same lecherous emotions brewing within your orbs, listening to what you’re told. His grunts start to become audible.

“Look at you, sucking like a little slut,” he groans, slowly becoming unable to process things by your turn on serving him gratification. You give him a hum in response, the muffled sound creating a vibration as you continually hollow your mouth wide open against his thickness, sending chills up and down his spine. He inwardly curses, fuck.

Levi untangles his fingers from your strands, rests them on top of your head instead, and stops giving guidance, allowing you to perform well. You know just what to do and how to please him anyway.

You pull away, a loud and satisfying pop ringing inside the enclosed space upon losing connection. Panting, you inhale the air you could to prep yourself, temperate breath ghosting over his dampened skin. Time to take matter into your own devices. You glimpse at your interlaced fingers, clinking of metals reaching your ears. You can work this without using your hands. Let’s give him a show.

Pausing, you adore his intimidating thickness, the glowing pearls of precum impressively still there on its tip. You playfully swathe it with the edge of your tongue and look straight at him with a childlike gaze, the salty taste staining your buds. The sensitive area causes him shudder and shut his eyes closed inadvertently. And it’s rewarding to see him so affected, because this play is more about you controlling his pleasure, less about him being invulnerable. You feel your pussy trickle with desire.

Without any beating around the bush, you angle your neck a little to the right before gingerly taking him inside your mouth once again, closing in inch by inch. When you dauntlessly push forward until you’re on the verge of gagging, his size filled your throat the way you like it. Then, you go back to pumping in and out in a regular pace, sucking the tip harshly every once in a while.

Levi could feel himself approaching, his guttural groans set free and detectable. Fuck, you wanted to stroke him with your hands to add up to his growing euphoria, but you can’t.

This time round Levi is only able to peer at you from his drooping lids, following your every movements, and he finds winsome the way your cheeks lose its original shape due to his cock being inside, your lips lush and full around his shaft, tongue dancing in a way that mirrors the lantern’s fire. Moving in a very devious pace, you run a lick on the underside of his hot, veiny penis, lapping him up like a thirsty bitch. God, you are coy, and it’s taking him every last ounce of his resolve for his body not to react something close to pitiful submission.

It takes him one last blow for him to finally explode, a powerful rush spreading all throughout the ends of his limbs, his balls clenching as he shoots his cum deep inside your chops, to which you willingly gulp down, a satisfied ahh leaving your lungs like your quench for his seed has been solved.

The soldier mindlessly pats your head, and you give him a quiet purr before rising to your feet. We’re not finished yet.

As if your lips are magnetized into his own, you lean in and let them crash together. He answers back just the same, indicating he’s still up for some more. But you shouldn’t put your guard down, you might not know it if he knocks you out all of a sudden.

“You’re still the same nasty whore I know,” he vehemently growls in between the lip locking, intense flame starting to devour his system. “Shut up,” you talkback. You ache to touch him but these irksome shackles are on the way. You choose not to mind it anymore since it’s only a matter of minutes before you leave.

You push him back down to the chair and he sits down in force. “Pull my skirt up,” you order on a whim, and he does as he’s told, holding your skirt for you. You help yourself into the same chair and truss your knees beside his thighs, settling for a convenient position until you’re straddling his front, wrists on the chest’s top rail, then sitting on his fully stiff and awaiting cock. As you spread your laps apart to aim and sink down, you swear you almost went insane.

A lengthy, strenuous hum slips out your lips upon letting your tight cunt engulf his big dick. “Fuck,” you mutter, whipping your head back in zeal. You should try not to lose your mind or else.

Your stretched out neck grants him the opportunity to nibble at the delicate skin, sucking intensely to create a mark of ownership, the tangy flavor due to the thin film of sweat covering your skin. It stings a little when he nips, but almost tickling at the same time. You mewl and let Levi finish his job and lower your forehead to meet his glance.

It doesn’t take you long before returning to crashing into him, his distinct taste amusingly addictive to you. The kisses sloppy and unorganized, you begin to roll your hips up and down, and he thrusts upward to meet you like an animal in heat. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he breathes out low.

You pull away to gasp for wind, chest stuttering and ragged from your unfaltering humps. “I know,” you brag and pause. The near to none distance between you two allows you to study his facial features and point out what changed by the years.

Hmm, not a lot really. He still looks twenty-four with his superbly chiseled jaw, slightly parted inviting lips, narrow nose, and the slim lining of his brows. Flawless and without fault, except for the darkening bags under his silver pools, which you dig by the way. He is, in fact, the godly embodiment of sexy, you bet women in his rank swoon for him only to be pushed aside. Lucky of you, you have a one of a kind charisma that drags this real life devil to his feet.

You look into each other’s face for a couple briefing moments, both of you discovering similar pairs of fiery eyes filled with lust in an overflowing amount. Meanwhile, his gaze dawdles on your red lips, color smudged by his doing, and he likes it. The longer he stares up at you, the more he’s convinced you’re nothing but a licentious woman hiding under your little renaissance dresses. Just thinking about it makes him want to fuck you so bad.

Levi refuses to stay still and dives into your breasts, causing your back to arch, unexpectedly hitting the perfect spot. He isn’t content and squeezes your butt, then letting his hands sit just at the top of your ass’ globes. “Levi—ah!” Shit! You desperately hold back your uprising orgasm. You have to stay in tact.

With that in mind and while he suckles on your twin mounds, you grab the chance to wring your clasped hands to your mouth, letting three of your dear coderoin melt and simmer under your tongue. This will have to do.

It’s thrilling, you’re about to drug a person who’s currently eating your boobs out hungrily in an alternating manner. What an odd situation. You wish you could continue fucking, but let’s not forget that Levi is very objective, and he’ll still eventually do his task no matter how much fun you spent with him. Before he can do that, you’ll just beat him to it.

You wait for the sweet, pungent tang to unravel, and when he lifts his chin to kiss you, the drugs are already diluted by your spittle. You skillfully transfer it into his mouth in a sparse method so he won’t notice right away.

Completely unaware, Levi gets to sparring with your tongue in a battle of ascendancy, his hands groping everywhere, and you don’t stop riding him gracefully like you didn’t do anything malicious at all.

With every grind being slick, an endless seduction, you continue enjoying yourself for the last lingering junctures. The constant sheathing into your impossibly close-fitting fuckhole extracts husky groans from his throat, ending up subdued against your mouth. He bites on your lower lip, earning himself a delightful whimper.

Two minutes pass by, something snaps, the brisk effectiveness all thanks to you. He doesn’t know why kissing you feels so dizzying, and… intoxicating. He slowly stops moving his lips and pulls away, cracking both his eyes open, only to be greeted by a cunning look. Then and there, overwhelming peak hits him like a freight train.

He feels less aware, a heavy weight being pressed against his body, colors around him becoming vibrant and he bets his whole life he could feel his own blood stream moving from inside his veins, synchronized with his heartbeats. His peripheral vision seems artificially sluggish yet accelerating.

Your lips quirk upward, discovering the befuddled expression plastered on his handsome face. You notice how his muscles strain in distress, but he can’t move even a single inch, indicating your success.

Levi’s brows furrow in cluelessness, eyes later widening upon realizing what kind of dirty stunt you pulled on him from up your sleeve.

You fix your posture upright before removing your body from his, heaving out a sigh of relief. Standing up, you look at him. Frozen and unable to do a single thing to restrain you. Down and obedient like a mere, small pet. At long last! He’s out of your hair.

“You’re too high to walk straight right now, aren’t you?” you jest, voice laced with the most graceful condescension. Of course, you know perfectly well first times can be extremely stupefying, especially with the dosage you just used for a rookie like him. Instead of it being euphoric, it’s entirely going to be the opposite. Nothing close to good.

“What the fuck did you just do?” poor Levi seethes in anger, but even his tone sounds tenfold more groggy compared to when he first arrived.

“Gave you a heavenly experience?” you giggle and repeatedly pull your wrists away from each other in an effortless attempt to break them apart, the hindrance of a shackle limiting your movements. Bothersome.

What part of weariness and intense jet lag is the heavenly experience? In a trice, Levi blames himself for being careless and taking you for granted. He should’ve done better than forget you’re from the same garbage dump he’s from. You’re one fucking crazy bitch.

Helpless, he watches you walk to the part of the table where you left the cigarette pack, shaking it all out just to get one and clip it between your lips. Some roll off to the ground, but you pay it no heed. His blood is boiling hard and tries to stand. You let him squirm around, confident that he can’t do anything, and struggle on your own to fish your lighter from your dress’ pockets.

You take your precious time lighting your stick, butane triggering the fresh burn of tobacco. You don’t mind that you look ridiculous with both hands on your face, or that your hair is a mess, or that your breasts are popped out. As you suck for smoke and briefly fill your lungs to then blow it upwards, you think, it’s just you and a spiked guy in here anyway.

Letting the nicotine rush take over your senses, you sit on the edge of the table and examine the dark haired soldier. What gives, he’s more impotent than you now. It’s ever so rare to see Levi so open to attack. “Mint goes well with coderoin, you know?” you inform just to piss him off.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” Though you can hear his fury, the threat only sounds so void, the usual venom lacking from his pitch.

He sits back as you pull in smoke into your chest, exhale it out, menthol aroma reaching his nose. You chuckle heartily that among every tip and corner of his body feels like burning from rage.

Time is ticking and slipping away from Levi’s grasp. He stays silent, the pounding of his heart loud enough to ring in his ears. He can’t accept he got deceived. Did you plan this from the very start? When? The moment he told you his intentions? The second he asked about your life here? Or maybe when he kicked the trapdoor open? That can’t be. Five years, and you’re quicker on your feet than you once were.

“That’s cute of you,” you copy what he said when you barked the same phrase. You admit, earlier was a close call, but thanks to your sharp mind and the past you shared, you won him over. Barely.

As always, men are most vulnerable when driven by libido. What fools.

With one last hit of the cigarette, achieving the lightheaded state you’re aiming for, you drop it to the floor, not bothering to extinguish it. Burn this house down, for all you care. You’ll have to move places from now, knowing he might start tailing behind you for vengeance.

Now, you can’t stay longer. The drugs won’t last on him from such a method. It’s not the right way to take it—through kissing.

It was a good time, but unfortunately, you have to part ways with him. The guy wants to arrest you, and that’s the last thing you want to happen. You’d rather settle in and have five kids with an old geezer than spend the rest of your life in a prison. You’re not dense, you know how heavy your crimes are, having circulated in both the Underground and the surface for plenty years. Impressive of you, right? Makes it all the more fun to carry on.

That’s why they should just dream of catching you, because you’ll never let that happen.

You walk toward his immobilized body, movements slinky as you bend over to reach his face and deliciously run your tongue over his lips, tasting the seemingly nectar. As much as he wants to just grab you by the hair and kick your annoying face, he’s only able to lift his arms up a few inches before falling back down again.

It doesn’t escape your field of vision, reminding you to leave immediately. “Sweet, isn’t it?” you ask once you pull away, a sly smile on your lips.

“Why don’t we call it a truce, shall we?” you lastly negotiate. His lips are firmly pressed into a thin line and refuses to say anything. Steel grey eyes look back at you in annoyance. You tilt your head in curiosity. You know he has a lot going in his brain. This might be the last time you see each other, will he choose to keep those in?

Well, he does want you out of his sight right now before he regains his strength and kill you on the spot. He clicks his tongue in impatience.

“Just fucking leave, you lunatic,” he spits. You sure will.

“Gladly. Until next time, Levi,” you drawl and blow him a kiss goodbye, then strutting away in triumph, smile never leaving your face even if you’ve fully turned your back on him.

When you finally disappear, he lets out an exasperated sigh, contemplating his defeat. Nape resting on the chair’s rail, he looks up to the dark ceiling. A droplet of sweat slides from his forehead, which he manages to wipe away in no time, resilience overcoming the delirium.

Actually pondering about it, you’re a real witty one. Of course he was still going to take you with him eventually, he just hasn’t planned it ahead. Seriously though, a sneaky tactic. He massages his nose bridge, shaking his head.

What a crazy brat.

In the end, he decides to just pass on the work to Erwin about getting on the good side of the monarch and politicians, knowing full well he was in for some major explaining—maybe leave out the obscene details.

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Good as Gold pt. 3

[part two] | [part four] [prostitute!Jaskier masterpost]

Geralt is nowhere near Hagge. He hasn't even been back that way in weeks, but the first thing he thinks of when the coin purse is pressed into his hand is Jaskier. He's been south of Wyzima for a week now, tracking a forktail that's been killing off the baron's prize horses and now he's been paid royally for it, especially considering the ease with which the beast went down.

He turns from the manor now, leading Roach toward the main road. He's not as glad to leave the city as he usually is, but he is happy to be out on the road again with his path ahead of him and no one to dictate where he goes, but him. And this time he has the coin to last him on the road for some time.

But his mind keeps going back to Hagge. There's an armourer there who charges more than Geralt is usually willing to spend, but he could do with a bit of work - the last few contracts have taken a toll. And there's a particularly friendly barkeep at one of the taverns who will slip Geralt free drinks if he promises not to let the locals start anything. So maybe Hagge is where he should head next. There are plenty of places between here and there where he could reasonably pick up a contract and there's no reason for him not to go to Hagge, after all.

And well, if he stops by the brothel while he's in town, it's been a while and he can spare the extra coin for once.

He doesn't realize just how long it's been until he's standing in the doorway and Jaskier catches his eye from across the room. Geralt's armour is gone, taken to be repaired and he's left in just a thin linen shirt and he should not feel as hot as he does watching Jaskier slip into someone else's space and whisper in their ear. But when he turns just slightly and spots Geralt, he stops dead, a wide smirk spreading across his face. He quickly pulls one of the other courtesans aside and he takes his place as Jaskier saunters across the room.

Without hesitation, he pushes up into Geralt's space, running his hands up his chest and letting the fabric bunch under his fingers.

"I like this," he hums. Geralt just scoffs, but Jaskier's fingers slip over his nipple and his breath catches. "Are you staying?" Jaskier asks.

"Yes."

"Good. Come upstairs." Jaskier doesn't hesitate to grab his hand, but Geralt doesn't need any convincing. His cock has already caught up and Jaskier's enthusiasm is enough to have him swelling in his trousers.

As soon as the door is shut behind them, Geralt is guided into the middle of the room and Jaskier drops to his knees immediately. Geralt doesn't even have a chance to strip his gear from his back before Jaskier's hands are at his waist, skillfully unbuttoning his trousers. He's half-hard already and Jaskier's hands so close to his cock are doing nothing to dampen his arousal. But if anything, Jaskier seems more eager than he is, shoving Geralt’s trousers to the floor and regarding his cock like it's something precious.

Geralt's hips twitch and Jaskier wraps a hand around him, stroking him to full hardness as he tips forward, pressing kisses into Geralt's hips that quickly devolve into licking and biting. Geralt's head swims and he braces himself on Jaskier's shoulders to keep from stumbling forward.

When Jaskier's mouth pulls from his hip, it finds the head of his cock, barely hesitating before sliding over him and moaning around his length. Geralt's fingers dig into his shoulders and he should be more careful because whores don't like to be marked up, but Jaskier seems unfazed. His eyes roll back in his head and his hips jerk forward before he has time to correct himself. But Jaskier just moans again and takes him deeper.

Geralt steadies himself, but one of Jaskier's hands comes up, pressing against his ass and encouraging the roll of his hips and Geralt can't even stop him. And Jaskier just takes everything as he's given it, reaching under him with one hand to cup Geralt's balls in his hand. He rolls them softly between his fingers and Geralt groans and pitches forward as his orgasm overtakes him. His fingers twitch against Jaskier's shoulder and his hips snap forward as he rides through the rush, but then he's left panting and embarrassed.

It shouldn't matter. He's sure Jaskier has seen many men who came too early, who couldn't control themselves, but Geralt still feels bad about it. He's ready to apologize, the words are on his lips, before Jaskier pulls off, giving a final flick of his tongue to Geralt's cock before it drops against his thigh.

"Fuck," Jaskier huffs, "that was hot."

"Been on the road a while," Geralt says by way of explanation, still avoiding Jaskier's gaze. He catches a whiff of arousal as Jaskier rises to his feet.

"Clearly you need to visit me more often," he hums, pressing back into Geralt's space.

"You'd like that?" he asks, trying not to sound hopeful.

"Very much." Jaskier winds his arms around his neck, letting his body move against him. Like this, Geralt can feel his arousal as well as smell it and it stirs something inside him. To keep from letting himself get carried away, he takes a step back, pointedly ignoring the way Jaskier's hands drag down his chest.

"Do you want to come?" he asks and Jaskier smiles seductively at him.

"Are you offering to help?" he asks, "or to watch? Because you know I'm partial to that."

"Up to you," Geralt says offhandedly, tucking himself back into his trousers and buttoning them back up.

"If you insist."

Once Jaskier is naked and kneeling on the end of the bed, Geralt finds he’s not quite as composed as he’d like to be. He's seated on the opposite end, leaning against the wall and all he can think about is tipping forward and wrapping his mouth around Jaskier's cock. He could easily get himself off again that way, stroking himself in time with his mouth on Jaskier's skin. He thinks Jaskier might let him, too; he doesn't seem to be opposed to any of the things Geralt wants to do with him, if anything, he encourages it.

But leaning forward would mean giving up this view of him, knees folded under him, spread wide for Geralt's visual pleasure and his head thrown back. And Geralt isn't inclined to do that. But his cock strains against his trousers, apparently oblivious to the fact that he just came, and his fingers itch to touch.

He sates the need by pressing against his own persistent erection, inhaling sharply at the touch, though the sound is drowned out by a shuddering moan from Jaskier. When he looks back up, he realizes Jaskier is watching him now, his hand moving a little quicker over the length of his cock.

"Come here," Geralt huffs and Jaskier doesn't miss a beat, quickly shuffling forward until he's straddling Geralt's hips.

His breath comes a little quicker, but he doesn't say anything and Geralt reaches for his own trousers, quickly unbuttoning them and tugging his cock free. Jaskier groans at that.

"Gods," he breathes, "how are you already so fucking hard again?"

"Mutations," Geralt grunts, unwilling to elaborate.

Generally, any part of his history isn't up for discussion during sex, but Jaskier asked and he felt obligated to reply honestly. But Jaskier doesn't react the way any of the others would, or have. He gets a look in his eye that normally Geralt would think meant trouble, but he just angles his hips down, sliding his cock against Geralt’s and any thought of conversation is gone.

Geralt’s hands move to Jaskier’s hips, guiding his thrusts to keep them slotted together like this. Jaskier drops his head, panting against Geralt’s shoulder and Geralt reaches down, wrapping a hand around them where they’re joined. It doesn’t take long for Jaskier to come like that, hips grinding down hard and shuddering as he releases.

Geralt runs his hands up his back, feeling the hammer of Jaskier’s heart under his palms as he settles and for a second, Geralt considers staying just like this, but Jaskier shifts and bends to look up at him. He hums at Geralt with intrigue and Geralt quirks an eyebrow at him.

"What?" he asks, shifting to press his hips up with a soft sigh. Jaskier shudders.

"How many times can you come in one day?"

"Don't know. Never thought about it."

"And no one ever thought to try?"

"Didn't care enough, I guess."

Jaskier releases his own cock, slipping his fingers between Geralt's where they're wrapped around him. "Do you want to find out?" he suggests, his lips pulling up in a grin. "You've got me all night and I can't think of anything I'd rather do than watch you come over and over again."

Geralt should say no. He's not a novelty for people to experiment with. But his cock gives a twitch at the mere thought of it and he considers it. If it was anyone but Jaskier, he would turn them down with certainty, but Jaskier has proven to be nothing but kind and patient with him and indulging him has only ever paid off. So after a moments' deliberation, Geralt agrees.

Jaskier backs off, stepping off the bed and wiping himself down with a cloth before holding a hand out to Geralt. Otherwise occupied by the soft smattering of hair on Jaskier's chest, he doesn't realize at first. But Jaskier takes his hand and Geralt lets himself be tugged back into a sitting position.

"You won't want to be dressed for this," Jaskier hums, happily tugging Geralt's shirt from his trousers. "It can get messy."

"Done this before?" Geralt lifts his arms for his shirt to be removed and rises to his feet when Jaskier nudges his thigh.

"A couple of times. I have a customer who likes pushing himself."

Geralt considers that while Jaskier continues undressing him. He's surprisingly more comfortable letting someone peel his clothes off of him than he is thinking about Jaskier with other customers. Which is absurd because he's known all along that he must; no one can get away with charging so much if they don't have experience. He pushes the odd discomfort down and rises to step out of his trousers as Jaskier gets them to the floor.

Once he's fully naked, Jaskier guides him back onto the bed. Geralt lays on his back, turning onto his side as he watches Jaskier move around the room, collecting things. When he returns, he lays everything out next to Geralt and settles himself between his legs, running his hands up his thighs.

"Sure you're okay with me doing this?" he asks and Geralt nods. He wants to tell Jaskier that he trusts him and that there's no one else he'd rather experiment with than him, but that all seems like a bit much for their third encounter, so he just nods.

Jaskier smoothes a hand up his chest as he leans over him to pluck one of the bottles from the bed. He opens it quickly and tips it upside down, letting the golden oil spread over his palm. It has a sharp, floral scent that burns in the back of Geralt's throat, but as Jaskier sets the bottle down on the floor and wraps a hand around Geralt's cock, he finds it's easy enough to divert his focus.

He starts slow but keeps a firm grip, slipping up the length of him and rubbing this thumb over the head. He gives a little squeeze before sliding back down and Geralt can't help the little groan that slips from his lips. He tips his head to the side so he can see Jaskier, watch the focus on his face and the soft amusement as Geralt struggles to hold back his pleasure. He comes quickly like this, hips twitching as Jaskier refuses to increase his speed and he barely has a chance to recover before Jaskier's bending over to grab the oil again.

"Good?" he asks and Geralt just grunts at him and shuts his eyes as Jaskier drips oil down the length of his cock. It's cool against his heated skin and he mentally follows it as it slips down to the base of him and gets lost in the hair there.

This time, Jaskier starts with his mouth, licking and sucking his way up his thighs, working him up to it again. But Geralt's cock needs no encouragement, twitching against his hip as soon as Jaskier's hand is on him. The initial touch is sensitive, but it barely takes a moment to adjust before the sensitivity turns to pleasure once more.

Geralt lies back and settles against the sheets, focusing on the drag of Jaskier's lips against his skin. He lets his hands slip down, pushing through Jaskier's hair, resting against his head. He gets a soft hum of approval in response and Jaskier tips his head up, watching him.

"That's it, darling, let me take care of you. You just lie back and relax, we're gonna be here for a while." Just the thought of that sparks something in him and Geralt rumbles low, tangling his fingers in Jaskier's hair.

Jaskier's hand slides over him again and when the second joins it, Geralt lets himself settle back against the bed, focusing solely on the warmth of Jaskier's hands around him and the softness of his hair between his fingers. He lets himself enjoy it, there's no reason not to; they'll be here for a while, after all. And Jaskier seems intent on using his time wisely. This time, he picks up the pace a little, keeping his eyes on him as he finds a steady rhythm that has his thumbs pressing beneath the head near constantly.

Geralt knows this is Jaskier's job, that being good at what he does is what keeps him employed, but it still catches him off guard how quickly and easily Jaskier can get him worked up. Tools of the trade, he tells himself; Geralt has his swords, his potions, his mutations. Jaskier has his lips, his tongue, his hands. And he uses them just as well as Geralt does any of his. But Geralt has never been at the receiving end of this kind of enthusiasm and expertise and he soaks it in now while he has the chance, letting his hips rise and fall with Jaskier's ministrations.

And it doesn't take him long before he's pushing toward that edge again. Jaskier's hands fall to the base of his cock and one slips away as his mouth takes its place. Geralt groans and his hips twitch up into the heat of his mouth as one of Jaskier's hands slips under him, encouraging the motion.

His hips work slowly, but only because he restrains himself. He knows Jaskier well enough by now to know that he would probably encourage Geralt to fuck his mouth, but he doesn't know Jaskier's limits well enough to trust himself. So he holds back, lets Jaskier take the lead and rocks gently into his mouth.

Jaskier's hands wander and Geralt's hips jerk, pressing his cock against the roof of Jaskier's mouth. He groans softly and Jaskier hums around him. When he looks up, he's got a mischievous look in his eyes and he sinks down fully. Jaskier just holds him there and Geralt's eyes nearly roll back in his head before he lets up. He lifts up again like he's about to pull off, but then his fingers slip down, cupping Geralt's balls and pressing back behind them. Geralt shudders and the motion doesn't go unnoticed; Jaskier hums encouragingly and presses a little further, skirting his hole.

The heat in his gut swells and Geraltrolls his head to the side, lips parted as he whispers a breathy fuck to the air. Jaskier hollows his cheeks and Geralt groans as he tips over the edge. He tries to warm Jaskier, but there isn't time before his orgasm hits and his hips stutter. But Jaskier just holds him steady, pressing his nose against his abdomen and letting Geralt fuck his mouth with short, stunted thrusts. He doesn't let up until Geralt whines under him, bordering on oversensitive, and tugs Jaskier's head up off his cock.

Geralt's breath comes heavy and a pleasant numbness spreads through his limbs. He settles against the sheets and Jaskier rises up over him looking him over with a satisfactory smirk.

"That's three," he hums, slipping his fingers up Geralt's thighs, "again?"

Geralt's tired, can feel the drowsiness seeping into his bones, but his cock perks up again at the thought of more and he does want to find out how far he can take this. He lets his eyes drop shut but gives a hum of assent and he can hear the smile in Jaskier's voice when he continues.

"You like when I touch you like that?" he asks, teasing back between his cheeks again. Geralt huffs as his hands draw away.

"Yes."

"Has anyone had you like this before?"

"Mm," Geralt breathes, "long time ago. Easier to find interested women than men who want me like that."

"But I can-?" Jaskier asks Geralt can hear the uncertainty in his voice and he breathes out a steady, yes, leaving no room for doubt. He reaches out, brushing his fingertips along Jaskier's shoulder and spreads his legs a little further. He doesn't miss the little groan as Jaskier presses closer, pushing his knees under Geralt's thighs.

He slicks his fingers again and Geralt shifts to give him space. Even after three orgasms, his cock still throbs at the thought of Jaskier being inside him because he knows that's what he really wants, but he can't ask for that. It's been too long and he's not ready to give himself up to someone like that. But this, this is so close, so very close to what he can't have and Jaskier is clearly excited about it, too.

He slips his fingers over Geralt's cock, moving down over his balls and back behind again. He rubs against him, a hair's breadth from his hole and Geralt's entire body shifts in an attempt to guide him closer, but Jaskier is clearly sticking to his own plans. He slips one hand around the head of Geralt's cock in a futile attempt to distract him, but it's been too long since Geralt has let anyone touch him this way and he's needy for it now. Jaskier's fingers slip further, circling around his hole but not quite touching and Geralt bites back a whine, rocking his hips back.

"Please," he finds himself saying, "Jaskier, fuck, please."

"Oh," Jaskier breathes and Geralt is reminded that he was supposed to mention the enhanced hearing thing to Jaskier. But then Jaskier's fingers finally slip into place and Geralt's entire world is reduced to the few inches of skin where they're connected.

Jaskier's fingers are slimmer than his own but it feels infinitely better than when he does this on his own. Maybe because when he does, he has to rush or because having someone else touch you always just feels better or maybe it's just Jaskier himself. But it drives him mad; he'd forgotten exactly how good it can feel not to deny yourself something and when Jaskier pushes a little harder, breaching the first ring of muscle, Geralt arches off the bed with an unconstrained moan. He throws an arm over his face, and Jaskier's fingers trail along his wrist.

"You don't have to hide," he hums, switching up the angle so he can press a little deeper. Geralt ignores him, rolling his head back as he lets his arm drop back to his side, fingers curling around the sheets.

Jaskier reaches for the oil again, coating his fingers and rubbing against Geralt's hole again before pressing back in. He draws back experimentally and when Geralt just sighs, he pushes in again. He thrusts lightly, letting Geralt adjust, but it doesn't take long before it's not enough anymore and Geralt is groaning softly, desperate for more.

He rocks his hips and pushes off the bed, anything to encourage Jaskier to give him more and then he does and Geralt nearly collapses under him. With two fingers inside of him, it's easier to imagine the real thing and Geralt wants so badly he nearly asks for it. He rocks his hips down onto Jaskier's fingers, wondering what it would be like to sit back on his cock instead. How would Jaskier fuck him, if Geralt let him? Would he take a step back, let Geralt fuck himself on his cock? Or would he bend him in half, fuck into him until they were both panting and sweat-slick.

He finds, as Jaskier circles a third finger around his rim, that he doesn't really care all that much. He just wants to come with Jaskier inside him and it doesn't matter if it's his fingers or his cock. Distantly, he considers the idea of Jaskier's tongue inside him and heat sears through his chest, his cock pulsing against his hip. He's getting close already, and when Jaskier presses a third finger into him, stretching him further, Geralt nearly growls his impatience at him.

And Jaskier just keeps going, fucking into him with increasing vigour until Geralt is right on the precipice, so close he can taste it. And if he hadn't have come three times already, he'd probably come just like this, but right now it's not enough. Then Jaskier's fingers slip around his cock again and it feels like the breath has been punched from his lungs.

His hips snap up involuntarily, seeking the warm friction of Jaskier's palm and it's only a few minutes before he's coming again, squeezing around Jaskier's fingers as he spills onto his stomach. For a few seconds, he lies still with Jaskier's fingers still inside him, then Jaskier pulls out and he shudders at the loss. For a moment, he feels utterly bereft, but he chides himself for it and shifts to get more comfortable.

This isn't anything special. It's different than before, but Jaskier is still only here because he's being paid and Geralt is still a mutant at the end of the day. But it doesn't stop Jaskier from smiling down at him like that, all breathless and soft. And it doesn't stop Geralt from feeling, just for a little while, like maybe he could be something more than just a monster.

But he's not delusional and he knows how these things work. It doesn't stop him from dropping his hand to cup Jaskier's jaw, running his thumb over his bottom lip.

He really is a sight, flushed and sweaty from exertion. Jaskier is incredibly beautiful to begin with, but with a pink tinge to his cheeks and his hair ruffled like that it's no wonder people come back to him time and time again. People - and Geralt. But he really doesn't have much choice if he wants to get laid so he comes back even knowing he's being drawn into the game. And when Jaskier leans over him, tracing his fingers up his sensitive cock, he can't even be bothered to care.

"You really like that, don't you?" he muses, sliding back against Geralt's rim and circling it with his index finger. Geralt sighs in response, shifting in place. He's sticky with sweat already and judging by the look on Jaskier's face, they still gave a while to go.

When Jaskier presses into him again, Geralt lets himself sink into the bed but he keeps his eyes on Jaskier. This time, when Jaskier's fingers seek out that spot inside him, Geralt is too worked up to do more than lie there and let him. Not that it's much of a hardship.

Jaskier works him through another orgasm like this - or maybe two - alternating bringing him off with his mouth and hand before Geralt's eyes drop shut on their own. Pleasure rips through him as Jaskier's mouth slips over the head of his cock again and he groans and reaches back behind him, wrapping his arms around the pillow under his head.

"That's it, beautiful, you're doing so well." Geralt groans as Jaskier takes him down deep and as he comes, he whimpers, shuddering against the bed.

Jaskier doesn't stop. Geralt doesn't even have time to get soft before Jaskier's tongue is running along the underside of his cock again, working him up to it again. He's lost count now, of how many times Jaskier has made him come tonight, but his body is still vibrating from the last when Jaskier starts fucking into him again.

"Gods," he breathes, "you look beautiful like this. Tell me how you're feeling Geralt, still good?"

"Mmhm." It's as much as he can get out right now, but Jaskier seems happy enough with the response. Jaskier shifts above him and Geralt is vaguely aware of him talking as he leans up over him. Geralt looks up into striking blue eyes and groans as Jaskier drops to kiss the side of his neck.

"No idea," he mumbles, "what you do to me." Geralt manages to muster up a scoff before Jaskier reaches up and takes his hand. He pulls him down between them, wrapping Geralt's hand around his cock, now hot and hard against his skin. And that does something to Geralt.

Jaskier is a whore and a popular one. He's probably gotten off at least once already today, if not more, and the thought that he can still get hard for Geralt is impressive. And arguably the biggest turn-on Geralt has experienced in his long life. It makes his breath catch and he finds his hand moving without his permission, curling around Jaskier's erection and stroking in time with Jaskier's thrusting into him.

It's such a stupid, simple thing but the fact that Jaskier is aroused by him, especially when he’s so passive and helpless like this, sparks his arousal. For the first time since the fourth orgasm, he is eager to come again, to feel that heat swell and swell until he can't hold on anymore. Because for the first time, he believes the things Jaskier has said to him, believes that this stunning man enjoys the time they have together. And stupidly, he lets himself dwell on that.

He lets himself feel every touch as real; every breath that Jaskier mouths against his skin, every thrust, every brush of fingertips - real. His head swims with it, with the utter thrill of being wanted and his need spikes. Geralt groans as he rocks back onto Jaskier's fingers and the man hums and pulls from Geralt's grasp. He shifts to straddle his thigh, his free hand curling around Geralt's cock again and it's wonderful.

Almost more than the touch on his own body, Geralt thrills in the press of Jaskier's cock into the soft flesh of his thigh. Jaskier gives more than he takes, but as Geralt shifts closer and closer to the rush, he can feel Jaskier's urgency grow. He rocks his hips slowly and Geralt presses his leg up against him, encouraging Jaskier to take his own pleasure from him. And that's something he didn't think he would like quite so much as he does - especially from someone he's paying for his own satisfaction - but his blood rushes at the thought. And maybe that's why he's so inclined to let Jaskier do what he wants with him.

And maybe Jaskier knows that. Maybe that's why he does what he does next. Because Geralt is so close - so fucking close - but he can't quite push over that edge. His body is physically exhausted, but he needs it and he can't quite get there like this. He wants to ask for Jaskier's mouth, but he can't quite form the words and then Jaskier leans over him. His cock sits heavily against Geralt's hip, drooling against his skin and Geralt's senses and filled with the scent of him, both the oils he uses and the scent of his arousal. And Jaskier dips his head, lets his lips brush against Geralt's ear, soft and warm.

"You keep coming back to me," he breathes, "and one day I'll make you come on my fingers alone."

That's all it takes, apparently, and Geralt comes with a desperate whine, spilling over Jaskier's fingers and arching off the bed. He's sweaty, sticking to the sheet as he falls back against them and Jaskier wipes his hand on the bed before reaching out to push the hair from Geralt's face.

"You are so beautiful like this," he whispers.

"Y'know I can hear you, right?"

"Had heard something about Witcher hearing," Jaskier huffs, "don't mind. Wouldn't say anything if I cared that you'd hear it." He dips down, pressing his lips to the swell of Geralt's stomach, placing soft kisses in a line there. "That was eight, gorgeous, think we can make it nine?"

Geralt just hums, still sighing against the fog in his mind. He can come again, he thinks, but some other way. He doesn't have to say as much for Jaskier to catch on. But when Jaskier changes position, shifting to straddle Geralt's hips, his cock slides alongside Geralt's rubbing against him as he leans down over him. Geralt's cock twitches lightly as he groans at the touch and Jaskier smiles down at him before bending to kiss his collarbone.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes?" He shuffles forward a little, cock pushing into Geralt's stomach as he reaches back behind him.

His fingers are still slick, but he reaches for the oil again, sliding his fingers into the bottle before curling them around Geralt's cock. The initial touch is too much and Geralt shudders at the touch, breathing out a whine that sounds far too needy to have come from him.

"This alright?" he asks and Geralt nods as he slides his hands up Jaskier's thighs, curling around the soft curve of his hips.

Jaskier strokes him back to full hardness. It takes a few minutes this time but once he's past the initial oversensitivity, Geralt's body lights up with the touch. It's not so constant as before, not quite such a sharp sensation, but when Jaskier sits back on him, his fingers dig in instinctively.

"Make me come again," Jaskier breathes, planting his hand on Geralt's chest. He runs his fingers through the hair there, tugging lightly as he tests out a slow pace.

Geralt likes any way Jaskier touches him, but he prefers this. He prefers to come with the warmth of another body against him, around him. And Jaskier touches him everywhere, presses himself flush against his chest and kisses his neck. Before he came to Hagge, Geralt never appreciated the effect a soft mouth could have on him, least on all on his neck. But that's Jaskier's target tonight, kissing and sucking softly at the skin, careful not to leave marks. Although a deep, secret part of Geralt wants him to leave marks, imagines seeing the splotchy skin in his reflection in the river.

He can't know if Jaskier understands exactly the effect it has on him, but he doesn't let up. If anything, Jaskier's kisses become more desperate, less controlled as he bounces on Geralt’s cock.

Jaskier comes first, biting his lip and stripping his cock as he sits back, clenching around Geralt. He comes all over himself and Geralt is quick to follow, still blindly thrusting up into him.

This time, he's exhausted and his eyes stay shut despite his best efforts. He ignores Jaskier's protests, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him against his chest and once they're pressed together, the slick of Jaskier's spend against both their skin. Jaskier's protests fail him. He hums softly instead, reaching up to run his fingers over Geralt's cheek.

"You were incredible," he whispers, "so good, my darling." And Geralt hums, barely understanding the words through the fog of satisfaction and exhaustion. He's sweaty and covered in come and oil, but he's been covered in much worse in the past and when Jaskier shifts gently out of his arms, he wants to protest, but he's too tired.

"Rest now," Jaskier says, "I'll have them fill a bath for us."

"Thank you," Geralt murmurs and Jaskier huffs a soft laugh.

"For the bath?"

"For caring." It's maybe not exactly how he intended to word it, but as Jaskier's fingers slip through his hair, he thinks he got his meaning across anyway.

[simplybakugou]

Buddy

↝ After running into a stray cat that you want to take in, you can’t help but feel nervous for how your boyfriend Bakugou would react to your new feline friend.

BINGO SPACE: Adopt a Pet

⋆ PAIRING: prohero!bakugou x reader ⋆ WARNINGS: swearing ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2037

A/N: here’s my first piece for the @bnhabookclub​ bingo event! Decided to start it off with some fluff so here you go! Credits to @eraserhead-transparents​ for the transparent Bakugou!

FULL BINGO MASTERLIST

✐posted 07.08.2020✐

“Come again soon!” You exclaimed, smiling and waving away as your last customer of the night left your flower shop. A sigh escaped your lips as you approached the front door, flipping the OPEN sign to CLOSED. Another successful day had ended as you looked forward to resting up at home only to face the next tiresome day of work.

You were quick on your feet to grab the watering can, eager to clean up to get home. You hummed in glee as you watered each plant with equal amounts of love and tenderness. The light from the setting sun flooded through the glass windows, painting the room with its orange and red hues. Each flowering plant in your shop soaked in the tints of color from outside as they hydrated with the water you provided.

Setting the can down on the counter and wiping your forehead from the thin sheen of sweat, you looked off at the space with satisfaction, opening the register and collecting the day’s worth of money into your bag. 

As you cleared the front counter of any minor messes, a familiar cry sounded from the front door, gaining your undivided attention as you peered over through the glass. Another sigh left your lips as you grabbed your coat and bag in hand, pushing the door open.

In front of your shop, like it had arrived every other night, a grey cat leered up at you with his wide green eyes. He meowed softly as he shivered, his tiny, frail body waiting by your feet as you locked the shop up. You crouched down, raising your hand slowly in front of him. His emerald eyes watched you closely, rubbing his head against your skin like he always did.

“Hey, little buddy,” you cooed, patting the area right between his ears. He purred slightly and you pulled away, taking out some crackers that you had leftover from lunch. “Sorry, this is all I got today.”

Regardless of the fact that your crackers were broken into little pieces, the cat ate away at the miniscule bits happily, obviously starving without a doubt in your mind. You frowned at the sight of his body, ribs peeking through his fur.

About a week ago, the cat showed up by your shop as it was strolling around the area. Your heart ached at the sight of the ill animal, not hesitating to feed him with whatever snacks and water you had on you. And as each night passed, the more the cat would come, waiting in front of your shop patiently with his tail waving elegantly, eyes staring right at you. 

As much as you were willing to take him in as your own pet, you were living with your boyfriend, Bakugou, who was never fond of any animal. No matter how hard you pleaded and begged whenever the two of you passed by a pet shop, Bakugou had no intention of sheltering an animal in his place. This factor was the one thing preventing you from taking the starving cat in. 

“Sorry, bud, I’ve got to get going!” You said gently, rubbing his head once more before rising to your feet. Typically this would be where you would be on your way home, parting ways with the little cat as he would walk towards the opposite direction. However, the cat decided to follow you, prancing right beside you.

You looked down at him in confusion, wondering why the stray cat was joining you. Another factor that held you back from adopting the cat was the fact that he was a stray. Most stray cats were prone to be accustomed to the outside world rather than being sheltered like other cats. And while most strays do not approach people so freely, this cat had no fear in seeing you everyday, not to mention he looked quite young as compared to the older cats that would roam the streets.

“Buddy, you can’t follow me; Katsuki will get annoyed,” you said, attempting to shoo him away but to no avail. He simply meowed in response, strolling right beside you. Everytime you sped up, he matched your pace perfectly, your attempt at losing him failing.

You sighed once more, stopping in your tracks. You looked up at the sky, the stunning orange and pink clouds had now turned gray as they loomed over you dauntingly. You pulled your phone out, reading the night’s forecast to have thunderstorms flooding the skies. You couldn’t bear to imagine the little kitty caught under such hazardous conditions so you made up your mind.

The cat stopped moving as well, sitting down on its hind legs as he looked up at you. You placed your hands on your hips as you glowered down at him sternly. “I’ll take you home with me if you behave!”

The cat meowed and you prodded once more. “If Katsuki gets mad at me, it’s your fault!”

Another meow erupted from the cat and you chuckled at yourself, amused that you were engaging in a full conversation with a feline. As you proceeded down the road, you stopped in front of the local convenience store by your apartment. You turned around, glancing down at the cat. “Wait here, I need to get you something to eat.”

The cat cocked his head to the side, watching you curiously as he amusingly obeyed your command. You entered the store, walking through the narrow aisles, hoping to find some cat food miraculously. Unfortunately for you, cat food was not considered convenience store worthy so you settled with buying a few cans of tuna, surprised the store even had tuna.

The cashier quickly checked you out, thanking you with your items in a shopping bag and you made your way outside. The cat let out a sound, following you once again as you hiked up the slope to your apartment.

“Hopefully this is enough for you to eat. I’m not really sure what cats eat but I guess tuna’s a good choice,” you mumbled, thankful that you made it to your apartment before it started raining. You pushed the elevator button, smiling at the sight of the cat rubbing himself against your legs, already leaving strands of fur on your pants.

The elevator arrived at the lobby, the metal doors sliding open. The cat took a few steps back, hesitant at the sight of the human-made contraption. You crouched down in front of him, slowly hooking your hands under his front legs and standing to your feet as you held him in your arms. “It’s alright, bud, we can take the stairs.”

He sat in your hold, watching closely at his surroundings as you pushed open the door to the stairwell, groaning internally at the idea of having to walk up three flights of stairs to get to your apartment. The things you do for a stray cat…

Nonetheless you made your way to the third floor, the sounds of the cat’s little paws hitting the steps echoing through the space. You managed to get to the top, your chest heaving up and down as your fingers grabbed at the doorknob to the apartments. You practically had to drag your feet to your apartment, out of breath as the true state of your physique was utterly out of shape. 

You unlocked the door, pushing it open slightly to let the cat inside. He just stared up at you curiously, waiting for your next move. “I’m guessing you want me to go in first, little buddy?”

He let out a barely audible sound and you chuckled, stepping inside as he followed suit, watching as you closed the door behind you. You placed the shopping bag onto the table and unloaded the cans of tuna to plate them accordingly.

“Here you go, bud,” you said, crouching down and placing the plate in front of the cat. He practically pounced onto the dish, not hesitating to eat away at the food. You smiled, watching as he happily ate. “Well, I guess I’ve got to give you a name now. You’re going to be living with us no matter what Katsuki says.” The cat continued to eat, not paying attention to your aimless rambling. You tapped a finger against your chin, thinking a little too hard about a single name. 

Before you could finalize a name, the door swung open, a tired Bakugou walked in while rubbing the nape of his neck, clad in his hero costume. He glanced downwards, peering at the sight of you kneeling before a stray cat. He sighed, closing his eyes momentarily. “Y/N…”

“I can explain,” you said, standing up and stepping over the cat. “He’s been sitting around in front of the shop everyday and he looked so hungry! I couldn’t just leave him out on his own!”

Bakugou glared at you, kicking his boots off to the side and ripping his mask from his face in one action. The cat flailed to the side, frightened by Bakugou’s sudden movements. You gasped, slowly approaching him and coddling him. “You scared him, Katsuki!”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, proceeding towards the living room. You held the cat up in your arms, petting his back as you approached Bakugou, plopping down beside him on the sofa. “Are you mad?”

Bakugou sighed, glancing back and forth between you and the feline. “I’m not mad, just… annoyed. I don’t wanna deal with a furball acting like a little shit around here.”

As if on cue, the cat hissed at Bakugou and nestled against your arms. Bakugou sent a dirty look his way while you laughed at them. “So we can keep him?”

Bakugou looked back up at you as you pleaded silently through your eyes. He knew you were a softie when it came to animals but he genuinely didn’t care for animals. “Fine. But I’m not taking care of it.”

“Him,” you corrected, placing him beside you so you could scooch closer to your boyfriend. You hooked your arm around his bicep, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Katsu.”

Bakugou let out another sigh. “Yeah, whatever.”

You pulled away from him, running your hand down the cat’s back as you petted him, low purs emerging from him. “I think I’ll call you Buddy. I really can’t think of any other name for you but I think this one fits!”

Buddy let out a small meow in response and you giggled. Bakugou just watched you with the cat, arms crossed on his chest. Normally when he came home from a long day of patrolling and kicking some villain ass, you would be by his side cuddling him but here you were playing around with what he saw as a dirty feline.

You turned around, feeling his gaze burning through you and you smirked, knowing your boyfriend too well to know what he was thinking. “What’s wrong? Are you jealous of a little kitty?”

Bakugou scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning the other way. “Like I’d ever get jealous of a fucking cat.”

You snickered, sliding over to him once more and pulling his arms from his chest. You crawled onto his lap, wrapping your own arms around his torso. “Thank you for letting him stay. I know how much you don’t like animals.”

“I’m fine as long as this is the only cat or animal type shit you bring in here.”

You nodded, your cheek rubbing against him. “You have my word. It’ll just be me, you, and Buddy.”

Buddy sat down on his paws, watching the two of you curiously. Bakugou’s nose twitched at the mere sight of the cat as he wrapped his arms around you, as if he were guarding you from the cat.

“Katsuki, please tell me you’re not trying to be territorial with a cat right now,” you muttered, finding this whole situation amusing.

Bakugou scoffed, his vermillion eyes glaring harshly at Buddy’s emerald ones as he continued to stare. “There’s no way I’m letting a little pussy steal all your attention.”

You laughed as the two exchanged harsh glances with one another, excited for the moments you would have in the future with your boyfriend and your new Buddy.

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[missinghan]

back to me ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : dynasty au; angst; fluff

❖ word count : 12,6k.

❖ warning : mentions of death & violence

❖ summary : you were supposed to avenge the fallen by taking the crown prince’s life but one wrong tug from fate and all your effort has gone to waste. 

❖ a/n : read chan’s spin-off here!

prologue.

Life can’t possibly get any worse for you, not when you meet the right person at the wrong time. 

When you’re too busy staring at the ground, this boy - who claims to be the crown prince of Goryeo - keeps asking General Bang if he can come out and play in the rain. As if he’s wondering what it feels like to stop time and walk through every single droplet, to suspend this watery gift from Mother Nature and peek through each one. As if he’s questioning what if he can sit inside of them, taking a gravity propelled ride. 

He smiles at you when he catches your intense stare, completely ignoring the fact that you might be judging him for his questionable demeanor for a royalty.

You don’t smile back. 

A guard hollers aloud, drawing a line with his sword above the crowd, “Make way for His Majesty!”

“Your Majesty, Your Majesty!” A woman shoves her way through the crowd full of people who are kneeling down on their knees, her eyes frantically peeking over the king’s shoulder. Finally, when she spots your shuddering figure next to the young prince, her eyes soften. “May I have a word with you?”

“Bow down, peasant—“

“Hush,” the king waves his hand dismissively. “Let’s see what she has to say.” And the guard scoffs, stomping away with his hand clutching onto his sword, his jaw clenched. 

The woman sighs in relief, getting down on one knee and explains calmly. “Your Majesty, my husband and I can barely make enough to eat but after some time of adapting and working hard, we’re sure that little Y/N can come and live with us instead.”

The king laughs lightheartedly and pats her shoulder, “That’s very kind of you,” and he scans around only to see everyone holding their breath, waiting for his next words. Once he’s determined to do something, it’s either going with the flow or having their head on a chopping block. They can’t even fathom how much courage this woman has mustered to speak up like that. “But I can assure you that—“

“Her father and mother were good people, Your Majesty,” she cuts him off almost coldly, cautious not to appear as discourteous because the last thing she needs is one of the guards running their swords right through her throat. “Do you have what it takes to raise this child? As your own? Will she be able to blend in with your people?”

“I-“

“Your Majesty, I’d hate to be disrespectful,” the woman’s tone grows louder, practically spitting into his face. “But we’ve known Y/N for her entire life. We know what’s best for her and we can manage to take care of her. She’s such a good child and deserves nothing but the best. And we don’t think it’s a good idea for you to—“

The king inhales sharply and clears his throat. The woman cowers almost immediately and the noises from the crowd go dead, knowing that she just messed with someone she shouldn’t. He turns around to see his son tugging the little girl by her sleeve, his eyes filled with concern and empathy. “She will only get the best with me,” the king snaps and the woman is shoved away by another guard, clearing the road ahead for him. 

“Let’s go,” the young prince grins at you brightly and somehow, manages to put a weak smile on your grim expression. Like a ray of sunshine on a rainy day, he outshines everyone else as if he’s glowing from within. “Your name is Y/N, right?” You only nod at that, feeling slightly suffocated in the black silky robe that they put you in earlier. “It sounds very pretty. My name is Jisung—“

“Come on, we don’t have much time left, Your Highness,” General Bang tells him firmly before tugging the both of you away from the village along with his own son. 

You surprise the royal family by staying relatively calm and unfazed throughout the burial ceremony, your expression only wavers slightly at the end when it finally hits you that they're really gone. Things are never gonna be the same again. And you’re determined to utterly destroy the royal bloodline so that they’ll know how it feels like to have a loved one taken away from them forever. 

You screw your eyes shut to prevent tears from spilling, holding your head low so that no one will be able to witness your vulnerability. But as you feel another pair of eyes on your back, you snap your head back on instincts and the young prince’s eyes hold yours. And they flit away just as quickly as when you meet his. 

The prince bites down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, the metallic smell making him cringe. His heart twists uneasily into a knot when he sees your shoulders shuddering. You lost your parents at such a young age and suddenly you’re being pulled into a place full of people that you don’t know with rules that you’re not supposed to be tied down with. You didn’t choose this life, yet you’re staying strong and trying so hard not to break down in front of all these strangers. He’s never felt his heart so heavy before, and he wishes he could do something to make you feel better. 

“Go,” Chan, the General’s son nudges him with his elbow. “Don’t just stand there,”

“What?”

“Go, she needs you,” the older boy encourages him. “She knows no one here, and you were holding her hand back there, I think she might feel less ashamed to cry in front of you.” 

The prince mentally thanks his friends with his eyes before walking over to you, a gentle hand on your quivering figure. “Hey,” he says softly, only to be met with your wide, teary eyes. “It’s okay, I promise.”

“I-“ you choke out, breaths coming in short as your heart continues to shatter inside your chest capacity. “I’m not- I’m not crying, I’m really not,”

He shakes his head and squeezes your shoulders in reassurance. “It’s okay, to cry. I can protect you, no matter what.”

“No! Don’t touch me!” You yelp stubbornly, you’re not giving into a stupid damn prince just because he has a cute smile. “I’m okay- I’m okay, it’s just-“

“Y/N!” The prince shouts unintentionally and immediately regrets it when you take a step back. “I mean it when I said that I’d protect you. Just cry, it’s okay.”

You sniffle, “You’ll protect me no matter what?” 

“Always.” And he nods. “You have my word.”

“But why?”

He smiles at you fondly, “I just feel like I have to,” your heart skips a beat, out of impulse when he gives your shoulders a squeeze of reassurance. “I’m not crazy, I know in my heart, that it’s right.” 

Then, the dam finally breaks. Before he knows it, you’re already throwing yourself at him, your arms wrapped around his neck as you cry into his chest, tears streaming down on your cheeks uncontrollably. All he did was smile and your heart is already going on a rampage. You can’t believe that you’re crying into the crown prince’s embrace, whose life you’ve sworn to take when you get older. 

You don’t think you’ll ever forget this moment. 

one.

Chaos. Solitude. Fresh air. 

Every once in a while you would drink in the atmosphere, the aromas of the local market like elixir, far different from the suffocation inside the palatial and magnificent palace. A lost child wails for his mother, a man frantically looking for his missing bag, shopkeepers screaming at the top of their lungs, throwing out offers left and right while customers are shoving and pushing each other to bargain for the best price possible. It’s practically impossible to even find an empty stall. Though you don’t thrive on interacting with the stallholders, you can feel the lively aura and the raw happiness in their eyes despite not having much. 

But the moment you step foot onto the gritty stone surface, the smiles fall from their faces as though you’re Death’s incarnate, disgusted whispers along with hushed gossips spread like wildfire. You’re used to it, sadly, because if you were them, you’d probably hate yourself too. You’re merely nothing but a child from an average family, your parents could barely make enough to eat and then suddenly one day, you got to live inside those cold, monumental walls of the royalties, enjoying some of the delicacies that the higher class has to offer. They have every right to detest you, and you accept that. 

You raise a brow when a little girl brushes past you, pushing you a little too harshly for your liking. You shake your head in disapproval and brush it off as normal behavior for a kid but soon, you realize something doesn’t feel right. Your pouch of money is missing. 

Eyes grow alarmed, you easily spot the tiny figure weaving herself through the crowds, edging through the dense flow of people and easily slipping away without catching any attention. A sly little thief. But she can’t get far considering how you know this town like the back of your hand. It’s still the same, not very tranquil or quaint, especially when spring is coming along and everyone’s too busy preparing for the upcoming festival. 

Soon enough, you find yourself in a dark alleyway - it’s like a completely separate realm from the outer world. It’s nothing but the eerie silence, darkness and the sour relics of thrown away vegetables along with something as disgusting as dead animals. As you walk between the walls that are too high for you to seek for any source of light, your nose scrunches up and your eyes narrow down into a glare. A weak beam of sunlight casts your shadow over the ground like painting black on the deepest shade of charcoal, and soon it bleeds out. 

“You’re a fast runner,” From your lips, a sharp warning slips out, not as much of a threat but it’s all the scarier when the narrow space is oddly quiet. “But not quite fast enough.”

The little thief slumps against the wall, murmuring, seemingly uninterested. “What do you want from me?”

You immediately grit, anger flickering at the back of your eyes, “You have what belongs to me. And I’m gonna need it back.”

“No can do,” she responds in a rather calm demeanor, almost sarcastically. “It’s mine now.”

Her expression remains unfazed even when you take a few steps forward, mere inches from her tiny figure. “It’s not right, to do what you just did. I don’t want to hurt you either,” you try to explain calmly though your insides are seething with nothing but pure rage. You never knew a child can tick you off so easily when the enemies don’t. “So just give it back, and I’ll get you home. Where are your parents?”

“What’s not right? Stealing? Then what am I supposed to do? We barely have three meals per day thanks to people like you. Moreover, my parents don’t care about me.”

“Don’t say that,” you shake your head. “I’m sure that no matter what, they’ll still love you very much.”

She counters and your heart freezes for a split second, “What do you know about family?” It’s no surprise to everyone here that you’re an orphan, a damn lucky orphan on that note. 

You kneel down to match her eyes’ level and sigh deeply, “Now, watch your next words very carefully, kid,” and she scoffs at you as if a subtle ‘what if I don’t’ is being hinted at you. “I’m a very bad person, okay, I’m barely the age of your parents but I’ve killed twice as many people. And I don’t want little boys and girls like you to follow my bloodied traces.”

“So you’re not happy inside the palace?”

“I wouldn’t say so,” you smile bitterly. “It’s just that, pain is an old friend.”

A single footstep rings through your eardrums and your hand automatically reaches for the dagger in your pocket as you grab the uninvited guest by the neck, slamming their skull to the wall. You’ve done this motion so many times that you can’t even count, your muscles just move on their own. You can physically see them gulp in hesitation, the corners of their mouth twitching when your blade misses them by a strand of hair. From underneath their black hood, you’re met with a pair of doe eyes, and an audible gasp leaves your lips. “What-“ you drop your weapon momentarily, “Your Highness, what are you doing outside all by yourself?”

“Care to explain what you are doing here without the guards then?”

“Your Highness? Guards?” The little girl questions with her brows knitted together. And you mentally facepalm yourself. No one’s supposed to know if the prince wants to sneak out of the palace. 

Jisung takes off his hood and frowns at you furiously, tucking a strand of hair to the back of your ear. “I was looking everywhere for you, Minho said you were practicing with Chan but he’s going on a work trip with his father for the following days. So I sneaked out by myself, I need to talk to you.” To your dismay, betting your trust on Minho was a horrendous mistake, mostly because he’s not that good at lying. Not like you have anyone else to cover you up when Chan’s not here. 

“You shouldn’t be outside by yourself!”

He immediately whines, “Why? I’m not a kid!”

“You’re not, but you sure act like one,” you quirk a brow. “Careless, whiny, and not to mention, Chan had to spend the night with you whenever there are thunderstorms.” 

“I was practically a child!”

You assert slyly, “Why yes, a child who decapitated his grandfather’s statue instead of practicing properly.” And you’re also quick to change the topic, you don’t have much time left for this seemingly never-ending conversation, “Aren’t you supposed to be by your father’s side the entire day? Didn’t he ask you to help him with resolving the mess in court?” You ignore the way your heart is hammering deep down, and try to counter as indifferently as possible. 

He grabs you by the wrist and your heart dips in your chest cavity. “I sneaked out, obviously,” he rolls his eyes to the moon. “For the love of God, Y/N, you need to tell me what you are doing. Why are you here? And who’s this?”

“I don’t know. This little brat stole my money and now I’m stuck with her!”

The little thief exclaims as if you just insulted her, “I’m not deaf!”

Jisung regains his composure and says firmly, “Y/N, I really, really need to talk to you.” 

“That can wait,” you whisper harshly, warm breath fanning his face. The prince’s breath hitches in his throat when he realizes how close you are, and his stomach turns every time your nose brushes over his. “I need to bring you back to the palace before sunset or His Majesty is going to ask for my head.”

The girl raises her brow, “Uhm, I’d hate to interfere, but don’t you think you ought to look out for that?”

Immediately, your hand clasps firmly onto her mouth when the other is on Jisung’s, he struggles to form a proper sentence, squirming but you don’t bother to move an inch when all you can focus on is the rather familiar voices of the guards you went through training with since little, their heavy footsteps scratching against your nerves. You can’t afford them seeing you with the crown prince outside the palace, along with a suspicious-looking little girl. 

As soon as they’re long gone, blended into the sea of people, you let go with a long exhale. Jisung exchanges wordless stares with you and you notice how his cheeks are slightly flushed, almost like he’s blushing before he averts his gaze, finding a sudden interest in the pile of garbage in the dark alleyway. You clear your throat before outstretching one of your hands towards the girl, “Come on now, do I look to be in a gaming mood?”

“Fine,” she grumbles and fishes your pouch of money out from her pocket, dropping it into the palm of your hand. “But you’re gonna have to do me a favor.”

You roll your eyes, reluctantly nodding. I’m never having kids. 

As if on cue, her stomach rumbles loudly and she tilts her head to the side, “I’m kinda hungry..”

two.

You’ve never really considered Manwoldae Palace your home, it still feels as though you’re an outcast whenever you’re walking along the pavements at night, or when you’re gazing listlessly at the moon from your quarters. You often stare at the astronomy tower where the royal astrologists spend most of their time analyzing and studying the alignment of each constellation, making sure that everything stays in their respective positions. Hence, your curiosity for astrology naturally grows over time because you feel like no one knows your concerns and struggles like the stars above. 

More than ten years of training to be a part of the royal military regime definitely shaped the skills and deadly techniques that you possess right now. The idea of the royal family’s safety being top tier priority has been etched to your mind like it’s been there all along. Sometimes you feel used, as if they’re just taking your skills to their advantage, seeing you as nothing but a weapon for their own good. But then again, you’ve learned not to bite the hand that feeds you. 

And it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.

Minho follows your footsteps when you exit his private palace grimly, “Don’t fuss over this! You know better than to hold grudges.”

“You had one job! One damn job!” You throw your hands up and pry out of frustration. “What a tremendous idea. Let’s tell Jisung that I’m training with Chan, who’s obviously going on a work trip with his father. Absence announcements exist for a reason! Did you think that Jisung wouldn’t know just because he’s always busy with conducting court affairs? It’s brilliant, it’s truly brilliant.”

“Then what was I supposed to say? That you’re dead?” The physician immediately puts his hands up when you turn around, the tip of your dagger slightly hovering over his throat. “It’s not my fault you’re overly fond of sneaking outside! Don’t you think if you weren’t acting so stubbornly and hot-headed all the time then this wouldn’t have happened?” he yelps.

You retract your weapon with a scoff, tucking it into your back pocket, “Since when am I stubborn? And hot-headed?” With every word, you jab your index finger towards him, irritation bubbling up under your skin like fire. Okay, maybe he’s not entirely wrong. 

“How did you two get back safely anyway?” Minho questions, curiosity sparkling in his brown eyes. 

And you internally grimace at the thought, shaking your head profusely. “I don’t think you would want to know.”

“Y/N— ow!“ Jisung whimpers. 

“Not a word, Your Highness, not a word.”

“The guards are always on duty! They are everywhere!”

You grumble as a reply, “Thank you for the information, I’m very much aware,” As he continues to complain about one too many reasons and ways that you two will be caught, you’re already done with tying his hands to his back with some rope that you found at the market. “Stay still, would you?”

“They’re gonna report this to my father if we fail, why can’t we just walk in like how we do normally?” Jisung squirms in discomfort at the restraints on his wrists when you fix the hood on his head until it’s low enough to cover the upper half of his face. “He might banish me!”

You make a face of disapproval, “In what world would my plan work out if you kept being so yappy and loud?”

“You might be executed for this, Y/N!”

“Now you’re just exaggerating, I’ve arrested plenty of bad people by myself before. It shouldn’t be too suspicious,” you shake your head and chuckle, your knuckles hovering over on the intricate wooden door. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Are you mad?!”

“Possibly,” you give him a slight smirk. “If it were easy, anyone would have done it.”

Minho puts a hand over his mouth and gasps monotonously, “Well done, you literally scared the living daylights out of the crown prince. No wonder..” You look at him, confused when he trails off and an imminent spark of fear ignites at the pit of your stomach. Jisung is still okay, right? “Apart from a poor appetite, he has also been struggling with insomnia, and it seems as though his mood’s been dampened these days as a result of not having you by his side.”

There’s absolutely nothing to diagnose, he’s ridiculous. “You know,” you force out a fake smile, one that you always give people at the market when they unintentionally step on your toes. “I’m suddenly having the urge to run my sword through your pretty little mouth, is that concerning or not?”

“Very,” he gulps and takes a step back cautiously. Regardless of his joy in spatting unnecessary commentary at you, he knows not to tick you off because clearly, he’s the one at a disadvantage when it comes to fighting here. 

Lee Minho has been studying pharmacology and medicine for almost his entire life. Trained by only the best of the best physicians inside the palace to save humans’ lives. Healing people is all that he’ll ever know. It’s not very surprising as to why you two would detest each other to a degree at some point because your daily tasks alone have explained a lot. 

“But would you actually kill me? If you had the chance to?”

You’re caught off guard at that, your witty retort growing dead in your throat and your spine goes tense. “One more word and I’ll—“

“...run your sword through my mouth?” He cuts you off with a soft chuckle, venom dripping from his voice “Surely there’s an evident line after that. You don’t think that I’m stupid, do you? A child, whose parents were ruthlessly murdered, and the king wanted to make it up to them by raising you in the palace. They might not notice it, but I can see right through you, Y/N. Your anguish and rage reek off so heavily every time I see you, I almost feel like I am being suffocated.” Little by little, the exasperation snakes its hands around your neck and chokes you, you want to shout, throw a tantrum and slam your throbbing head against the wall. Is he testing you?

“You’re ready now, more than you’ll ever be. Considering the fact that Jisung’s coronation is coming up, there’s your perfect chance to get your revenge. On all of us,” Minho sees all the colors drain from your face, your fists curled and cold beads of sweat trickling down on your temple, but he can’t seem to stop taunting you. “Isn’t this what you want? To end this once and for all? Aren’t you tired of fighting with one arm tied behind your back? Or being their little puppet? Taking one life after another every day for them? What are you waiting for? When the prince is dead, you can run, run away and never return. It’s for the lesser evil-“

His words come out as incoherent as ever when your fingers are gripping on his throat, threatening to crush his windpipe. His lungs greedily gasp for air as you back him up against the wall harshly, the inferno inside of you burn his ability to talk back into ashes. You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to vent it all out, but it’s just so simple to be cruel at that moment, and all he’s doing is adding fuel to the fire. He’s just making it easier for you to end his life. 

“Evil is evil,” your dark gaze sends chills down on his spine, and Minho can physically feel his legs growing weak. “Lesser or not, it’ll do either party no good. I’m not going to kill anyone, yet. But if you keep being so irritating, I can’t promise you’ll be seeing tomorrow’s daylight.” You pinpoint your words very carefully, releasing the hand on his throat. He immediately falls to the ground, coughing furiously into the sleeve of his robe. 

“Why?” He stubbornly asks even when his vocal cords are cracking from the pressure that you applied, “What made you change your mind? Why not kill us?”

Your stare tears right through his soul as you speak for yourself loud and clear, conflict twisting into a knot inside your stomach, “Because if then, I will be what they want me to become, a heartless weapon. I am not heartless, I just learned how to use my emotions less, for the better.”

Minho leans his head back against the brick wall, laughing breathlessly, “So it’s true,” you narrow your eyes at him, unsure of what he’s trying to say. “You do love him.” Your eyes widen in horror. He did all of this, getting cuts on your edges just to clarify the feelings that you have for Jisung that even you are uncertain of. 

“You—“

“Y/N,” Jeongin, the eunuch props his hands onto his knees after running towards the west gate, gasping for air. “The king wishes to see you.”

three.

Feet firmly planted on the grass, you exhale deeply before fluttering your eyes upwards to glare at the night sky. Defiant and irksome in your eyes. The seemingly harmless stars are looking down at you almost mockingly. You see absolutely no empathy, no sense of responsibility, no fairness in the everlasting black canvas that puts everyone to sleep every night. 

A familiar figure enters the garden and you hastily get down on one knee, daring not to look straight into their eyes. “Your Majesty, my respects,” you say firmly, maintaining your position. The king gently places a hand on your shoulder wordlessly, tugging on it slightly as an attempt to pull you upright. But you refuse to do so, shaking your head. 

“Y/N, there’s no need to be so formal anymore, we’re practically family,” says the king, followed by a soft chuckle. 

Your head starts throbbing uncontrollably at his words. Family. You try hard not to let your features twist in exasperation, knuckles turning white from how tightly you’ve been balling your fists. “I’m not worthy of Your Majesty addressing me as ‘family’. Please take it back,” you voice croaks at the end as you swallow the lump in your throat. 

The word endlessly echoes in your cloudy mind, making you dizzy as it slips through your walls, sinking into your heart. A bitter taste rises and creeps onto your tongue when you try to speak, so you simply stay quiet. You were taken away from your family on your tenth birthday, initially being forced to work for the royal family as a maiden after your parents’ death. But the general saw how much potential you had while joining a made-up sword combat battle with his son and decided to take you under his wing and into training. 

You grew up fast and so did your skills. You’re now one of the astutest and most trustworthy members of the military regime, exclusively permitted to stay by the crown prince’s side in order to protect his life at all costs. Little did they know, you’ve sworn to take the prince’s life one day since you first stepped foot into the palace. You wanted them to witness the light going out in his eyes as he took his last breath so that they'd know how you felt that day, how agony tore you apart, piece by piece. A taste of their own medicine as they let a wolf into the fold. 

Blinded by extreme hatred and malevolence, you’re utterly terrified when slowly, that distasteful feeling in your chest has turned into something else. Something that isn't supposed to be here. Moreover, you’ve developed a particularly strange kind of feeling towards the crown prince. Unfortunately. 

The king says softly. “Do you know why I demanded your presence then?” 

“I don’t know why, Your Majesty,” you answer after regaining your composure. “But I will take full responsibility for what I’ve potentially done wrong.”

“You did nothing wrong, my dear,” he tells you with a fatherly smile. “My son is going to go on a trip to one of our alliances’ kingdom, and I can’t possibly think of anyone else to escort him there safely.”

“May I ask what is the purpose of His Highness’s trip, Your Majesty?”

The king merely smiles and sighs, the tone in his voice unfathomable. “Ah, you see,” he coughs into the sleeve of his robe that’s made of the finest kind of material, struggling to keep his words firm. “I can’t stay- forever, so I figure his coronation- should take place as soon as possible. And it has also come to my attention that it’s time for him to find a queen.” 

And your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, your whole world suddenly turns upside down. 

four. 

Jisung falls flat onto his face, fists clenching as he manages to push himself up by his forearms not long after, blowing the sweaty strands of hair to prevent them from sticking to his face.

“Your Highness,” you heave, breaths coming in short as you support yourself onto your knees, your heart rate increasing by the nanosecond. “You can take a break if I’m exhausting you, there’s no need to act tough,” you almost hiss through gritted teeth, a strange glint flashing in your eyes. And then it’s gone before he can even make out what it is. 

The prince laughs in amusement, cocking his head to the side. “Are you okay, Y/N? You seem a little...” he swallows thickly before continuing. “..on edge today.”

You shake your head and crane your neck tiredly, sighing when your muscles pop. “I’ve never felt better, Your Highness,” you grimace when he finally picks himself up from the ground, chest falling and rising at a consistent pace. “May I ask why you’re concerned about my current condition?”

He doesn’t respond and instead throws himself at you, fist curled into a punch. It’s inevitable, he’s too predictable at this point. You duck and drive an uppercut low into his flesh, right below his belly button. The blow stings, but he barely notices when it forces a gasp out of his lips. His body staggers backward and he falls on his back, coughing furiously on the concrete surface. 

You brush some of the dust off your clothes, wiping the sweat away on your eyebrows and let out a soundless chuckle. “Your Highness, here, allow me,” you outstretch one of your hands and what happens next gives you no time to register or react properly. 

Jisung grabs a fistful of dust and tosses it towards your direction when he sees how you’re offering him a hand. You immediately use your forearm as a shield to protect your eyes. And in those vulnerable moments, as you’re distracted, he sweeps a hand under your legs so that you’ll fall hard on the ground, sending more dust into the air. He easily topples himself over and braces himself on his forearms, securing you beneath his figure in a matter of seconds. 

“Y/N,” he says between labored breaths, “I thought we’ve had a discussion on this topic. You are allowed to call me by my name, you officially have my consent. Why are you so damn stubborn?”

You only huff at that, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. And he thinks you look ridiculously adorable, like a child. “To inform you, we did have the discussion but I refused to address you as your name because, well, I’d rather not have my head chopped off for disrespecting the prince.” You tell him firmly, but still unable to look him dead in the eye. The image of the fearless, empowering warrior has been stripped to a bare minimum when his doe eyes map out your delicate features. 

In his eyes, you’re just Y/N. The little girl who his father brought into the palace, who’s supposed to be a maid as many others but went through tough, resilient training under the general’s wing at a young age. The childhood friend who told him that sometimes, putting others’ well being before his own is something that he should know and embrace. You’re the one who spent plenty of sleepless nights by his side when he’s having difficulties with studying. He’d lean on your shoulder as you read a scroll aloud, his eyes growing heavier and heavier until he completely dozed off. 

But in yours, he’s still the crown prince, the one who will have the entirety of this kingdom within the grasp of his palm someday. You’re nothing more but a lowly servant to him for the time being. At some point, you won’t be in his life anymore. 

“That was years ago,” you scoff. “And also, you cheated.”

“Of course I did, a man needs to do what he has to in order to win,” Jisung claims with a bright smile, one that you haven’t seen in a fairly long time. It tickles something in the pit of your stomach and heat flares through your nostrils, sprinkling a shade of coral on the apples of your cheeks. He’s so breathtaking even when there are dirt and sweat on his features, they’re not enough to cover up his beauty. 

You roll your eyes as an attempt to ignore the rouge on your cheeks, “Would you care to tell me what you’re trying to win then, Your Highness? Since you always look so determined to defeat me in person-to-person combat.” 

“Your heart,” he answers with absolutely no hesitation, a spark igniting at the back of his orbs when you stare at him with wide eyes. He can see right through you without making an effort, and all you want to do is to bury yourself alive. You hate how he can make your legs weak with something as simple as a slight glance. 

“Is it because of my father? What did he say?”

“He said nothing,” you look away. “I simply quit. Chan will be responsible for your safety from now on.”

“What do you mean you quit? You do realize that there’s a village full of notorious killers and thieves on the way there right?” 

You reply bitterly because he’s talking to a murderer without even knowing it, “I’m not going to escort you to the alliance’s kingdom,” and your heart cracks a bit when the stars in his eyes fade away in disappointment. “I’m sorry, but I quit.”

“So are you jealous? Of my marriage?” Jisung voices sadly, and with every word, he feels as though someone is repeatedly stabbing his chest with a knife, desired to carve out his heart with their bare hands. “Is that why you’ve been acting strange this whole time? Is that why you’re avoiding me these past few days, why you refused to escort me to the alliance’s kingdom? Is that why—“

You cut him off with a cold tone, eyes threatening to water. “Your Highness, I think you and I are both mature enough to know where the line is drawn. I really hope you won't ever cross it. It’s better off this way. Soon enough, you and your future queen will be—“

Wordlessly, he inches closer and seals the gap between your lips and his. Goosebumps bubble up on the surface of your skin when he angles his face to deepen the soft kiss, warm breath brushing over your cheek constantly. You’re slow to reciprocate it but give in when his hands gently lift your head up, caressing you like you’re the most fragile thing in this world. His everything is finally wrapped around his fingers, and he’s never gonna let you go. Not in this lifetime. Not even in the next ones. 

“Can’t you be my queen?”

He breaks the kiss and stares deeply into your eyes, looking for an answer behind the stoic facade that you've been keeping up for so long. Suddenly tears pool in your eyes and flow down on your cheeks, percolating through the flushed surface. His smile falters when you hold onto his robe so tightly that your knuckles start turning white. 

Because of him, you’ve learned to not drown yourself in revenge and dwell on the past. Because of him, you’ve found the other missing half of yourself so that you won’t feel so isolated in this solitary world. But your love for him is more than enough to let him go. 

“I can’t, and I won’t.” 

“After all this time, did everything mean nothing to you? Did I mean nothing to you? Was it all just a lie? After everything we’ve gone through? Tell me that it’s not,” Jisung takes your hand in his, wiping your tears away endearingly.

“If you’re asking me have I ever seen you as something more than just the prince, then no,” You simply shake your head, “But if you’re asking me whether everything was just a lie, then I can’t answer that.”

Because a love big enough to willingly let go is the greatest love of them all.

 five.

Your tired figure storms out of your respective quarters as soon as Hyunjin informs you that Jisung is urgently in need of your presence. It’s almost his bedtime and you’re utterly alarmed that someone’s intruded the palace and intended to hurt him. He is the rightful heir of the throne, after all, the person who will lead and bring the kingdom to success. It’s not surprising or the first time someone’s tried to take his life. But you’re never gonna let that happen. 

“Your Highness, did something happen?” You bust through the paper-lined door abruptly with a hand already reaching for your weapon, the handle of Chan’s sword feels foreign at your touch. “Are you okay?” Concern is evident in your tone as you dart your eyes from one place to another, looking for anything suspicious. Aren’t guards supposed to barge in by now too?

But your arrival is only met with the prince waiting patiently for you at his ebony table, calmly reading one of his scrolls as if nothing’s happened. “Ah, you came,” he simply smiles at you and waves you over, signaling you to join him with whatever he’s dealing with. “Come here.”

The grip on the handle of the sword falls and your jaw almost drops to the floor. “What? I don’t understand-“

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t spend the whole day with you,” he cuts you off shyly while scratching the nape of his neck. And when you briskly walk over to his workspace, his starry eyes sparkling under the dimmed candles, taking the breath right out of your lungs. “Father wanted me to join him in conducting court affairs so I can learn a thing or two. Hence, I wasn’t able to see you at all.” 

You tilt your head to the side in confusion, your brows furrowed. What is he so sorry for? “So you’re not hurt?” You grab either side of his face out of instinct, checking it in every angle possible as your eyes search for any injuries, even just something as small as a tiny scratch on the prince’s face can alert the entire palace. 

Jisung shakes his head and peels your head away with ease, making direct eye contact with you. Again, you make a grave mistake by staring deeply into the cosmos in his warm orbs, floating inside his nebula softly. You don’t think the thoughts have ever occurred to you before but you truly adore his smile to the moon and back. How his cheeks bunched up, how his eyes crinkle and how it showcases his perfectly white teeth. Something stirs the inside of your chest whenever he does something as simple as grinning at you playfully during practice. And you know the reason behind that very well, you just can’t bring yourself to accept it. 

“No,” he tuts with a jut of his bottom lip. “I just wanted to see you.” 

You almost gawk at that, wide-eyed expression as you draw yourself back from his grasp on your hands. “You what?!” And when he just gives his shoulders a sheepish shrug, your blood is practically boiling and the heat starts rising to your cheeks. He’s absurd. Hyunjin’s absurd. All of this is absurd. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you yet you still called me in at this hour?! And what for?!” You scream out your anger at the top of your lungs, deciding to drop the formalities for once when you’re already trying too hard to not...end his life, in which you’ve sworn an oath to protect it as long as your existence still grazes the surface of this planet. 

How ironic. 

The crown prince of Goryeo is rather childish...and irrational, a stark contrast to what you’ve been told by the elders back when you’re still living in your small hometown. They said children at your age in the palace were strictly forced into the perfect molds so that when they grew older, they would lead the country to a future as ‘perfect’ as the standards that the previous generations swore by. 

The prince is full of flaws, he is flawed, to begin with. He talks too fast and throws too many nonsense tantrums after getting to know someone, he has the tenacity of a five-year-old, and he stares at his own reflection one too many times a day. But that’s what makes him who he is today, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You don’t wanna admit it, but he is perfectly imperfect. 

“I already told you,” a playful grin lingers on his lips, but that only makes your face morph deeper into a frown. He’s usually not this annoying or irritating so it’s starting to get on your nerves. You just hope that you won’t end up strangling him tonight. “I wanted to see you, because I missed you,” the prince tells you in a nonchalant tone, amused by how the coral shade on your cheeks isn’t fading away. 

Jisung continues with a smile, “And also because it’s your birthday.”

“Huh?”

It's what?

Your mind slowly processes the simple sentence that just escaped his lips like it’s solving a conundrum of some sort and you widen your eyes almost immediately. It is your birthday. How could you forget? It’s a shame to say that you spend days and nights mostly with Chan and the military regime, dedicating years after years of your youth to learn all of these skills as a compulsory service for the royal family so that your head is as cold as ice and your heart is as stern as a rock. You’re obligated to do anything and everything that they demand, every task must be done neatly and effectively, only so will they be satisfied. Anything and everything. And murders are no exception. 

Failure? Mistakes? Not an option. 

It’s twisted, to a degree, yes. But most of the murdering cases you have taken are aimed at people who truly deserve it. It feels as if you’re doing karma’s job, making them pay for what they have done, for the crimes and sins they have committed. Though that doesn’t mean you have never touched innocent people before. So such things as birthdays are unnecessary and almost annoying in your mindset. 

“I have something for you,” Jisung’s soft voice brings you back to reality. And before you know it, he’s already pulled you to the very back of the courtyard by the wrist. You, him and Chan used to come here every day after your studies or practices, just lying comfortably on the grass with the iridescent moonlight beaming down at you. The three of you used to laugh here, messing around with each other as normal kids should be. Although those moments happened very rarely and hurriedly, you know that you’d never trade them for anything else. 

He tells you when you both lean yourselves against the ugly tree that’s been there since forever and clasps his hands together excitedly, “Close your eyes,”

“If you’re gonna give me flowers again—“

“That was one time! One time!”

You allow your eyelids to drop nonetheless because that way, he wouldn’t know that you’re rolling your eyes at him, “And the only few things that I’m allergic to in this world are flowers.”

“Y/N, this is me trying to prove to you that I really do care about you, okay?” His words tug at your heartstrings and you flinch slightly as he places something cool into the palm of your hand. “You can take a look now.” 

You open your eyes and gasp when you see the most delicate, and elegant silver hair brooch you’ve ever seen. There’s a lotus with dangling tassels on the end, minimal yet detailed jewels are embedded very carefully onto every single petal. This is so incredibly thoughtful of him, not only remembering your birthday but also taking consideration in preparing you a present. It warms your heart knowing that he’s serious with his feelings, that he isn’t just playing around like the other guys in court. “Jisung,” you breathe out as light as a feather. “This is beautiful...but I can’t take it.”

“Nonsense,” the prince shakes his head, squeezing your shoulders. “I’m quite certain you’d look pretty with it. Don’t you like it?”

“No, I- I love it,” you utter every word with clear difficulties as he stares straight into your soul. He really needs to stop before you do something you’re gonna regret. “But I’ll probably never have the chance to wear this even..” You look down at the piece of accessory in your hand and your eyes flicker upwards when he gently closes your palm shut, the silver material cool against your skin and his fingers warm over your burning flesh. 

He starts to lean in, inching closer with every word, “With or without it, you’re still the prettiest in my—“

“Y/N! There you are!”

Jisung immediately clears his throat and pulls away with flaming cheeks upon the new arrival of the unwanted guest. You snap your head back at the owner of the cheerful voice to find Chan carrying your sword and waving at you with his free hand. The eye bags under his eyes seem to be less noticeable whenever he’s in a good mood. Clearly. He always shows up so timely, and it doesn’t help when you’re already so confused and conflicted with your own feelings. 

“Woojin is done with my sword already?” You quickly dismiss how the prince is murmuring curse words at his friend while his eyes are surprisingly interested in the veiny and bumpy bark of the tree. 

Chan nods, “Yep,” he tosses you the weapon and you quickly catch it with one hand due to natural reflex, sliding it out of the leather sheath. “He even tried to put together a little surprise.” 

You’re in awe at how the blacksmith has attentively carved out your name on the blade, every detail is sharp and nicely done. And the blood from your previous...work trips has been scrubbed away completely as if the beauty of this weapon has never been tampered with. You almost feel bad for his other customers just because he always puts you over the rest with ease. “This is so sweet of him,” with a smile on your face, you slide it back into the leather cover. “Tell him that I’ll treat him something next time.”

“But it was my idea,” Chan pouts and says in a whiny tone while the prince is still sending death glares his way. “Oh, was I interrupting something?”

“Yes you—“

You immediately interject, “Oh nothing! Nothing at all!” But then again, Chan’s not dumb and you’re not very good at faking things. And also, Jisung definitely doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. 

“I was gonna kiss her!” He pries out loud and you clasp a hand onto his mouth almost immediately, trying way too hard to keep a straight face. You hope someone accidentally pours cold water in his bath later on.

Chan sends you both a greasy smile, “Please do so,” and you hope Woojin snaps his sword in half the next time he asks for a checkup. “It’ll be quite a scene to watch. And I won’t mind at all, it should be fun to inform His Majesty about this.”

“Did you just threaten me?” You huff and cross your arms. 

Jisung snorts involuntarily, “Did you just deny that you hate my kiss?”

“I hate it as much as I hate both of you.”

Chan simply chuckles at that before squishing your cheeks together, “You can curse me as you please but you’ll never hate him. You’re far too busy loving him, where’s the time to even give him a taste of your hatred?”

“Whenever my wrists are itching for a punch,” you yank his hands away and say harshly, but apparently, he isn’t intimidated by it at all. “Or when he’s practicing with me, just like the other day when I—“

“Alright alright, that’s not me!”

“It is you, Your Highness, I know what a little girl sounds like.”

Instead of continuing with this brainless banter, Chan decides to pull the both of you into a tight headlock, and lungs-crushing embrace, “Now now, you two, come here. Hugs make everything better,” he claims with a dimpled smile, which is responded with an eye roll from the prince and a small giggle from you. 

“It still doesn’t change the fact that we both hate you,” the prince mumbles. 

You can’t possibly imagine your life without these two by your side. 

six.

In the serenade of the black velvet sky lies a choir of stars, singing in the infinite pattern to soothe the humans’ souls. As strange as it sounds, the eyes are in need of music every now and then too. Especially when all Chan witnesses on a daily basis consists of casualties and guards yelling at some random villagers on the streets. The job’s tedious, he thinks, how guards think they can step on others so easily when they’re merely just parasites living off the royal family’s trust and ignorance. 

You hold back the urge to spit in the guard’s face, “Don’t touch me.” He quickly backs off, cowering behind everyone else until Chan dismisses them with a wave of his hand, boredom laced in his brown eyes. And coldly, “What?” You almost kick yourself for sounding more nervous than you’ve intended to. 

“You know,” Chan keeps his back against you, speaking softly. “I thought it was strange for some thief to rescue the slaves that are being traded in the black market. And how that single thief managed to take down our guards too. Something just feels...off,” he fondly peeks over his shoulders with a dimpled smile. “I should have known that it’s you.”

The slight amusement in his tone makes your heart flinch in a split second. Even the moon looks like it’s judging you, its delicate light illuminating the land beneath, watching over mundane mortals like you every night. Such dominance and fluorescence can’t be hidden even by the dull, creeping clouds floating endlessly on the starless sky. Right now, it feels like the eye of the Devil is piercing right through your soul, a damned being. 

Chan turns around when you don’t respond, exhaling a sigh with a hand on your shoulder. “Look, I know that you’re upset-“

“I’m not upset!” You unknowingly snap at him, chest heaving up and down when anger flares through your nostrils. But you’re quick to be taken aback by your own action. “I’m sorry, I- I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, it’s just-“

Chan muffles your words by pulling you into a tight, brotherly hug. One that makes you want to strip off the facade you’ve been keeping up with for so long and just let your tears flow down on your cheeks until your heart stops aching. He always knows what’s inside your head and never fails to think in your shoes. “There there,” he pats your head as an attempt to comfort you. “Hugs make everything better, right?”

You mumble into the crook of his neck, “What are you talking about?”

“I know that you like Jisung,” you widen your eyes at that, a bitter taste rising in your throat. “And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

“Don’t- don’t do that,” you clutch onto his robe, your bruised knuckles turning white. “Don’t give me false hope when I’m already unsure about my own feelings.”

Chan rocks you back and forth, followed by a deep exhale. He hates how your eyebags have become more permanent in the past few days, how lifeless you look during practice and how you’ve been sneaking out every night just to distract yourself from the harsh reality. “I don’t know about you, Y/N, but if I’m not mistaken here, then I can reassure you that he’s in love with you as much as you are with him.”

Regardless of what Chan said, you’ve already had something else on your mind. 

You dash towards the west wing as soon as Chan breaks the hug, all that echoing in your head are the sounds of your shoes tapping against the concrete ground and blood roaring in your ears. What’s the point of falling in love with when you’ve already broken the promise you made years ago in front of your parents’ graves? You hate him. You hate them. All of them. Those who took you away from your own home and tossed you into their life as if you’re a rag doll for sale, like a product that can be traded with materialistic values. It disgusts you to the bones knowing that they’re the same people who raised you, who taught you how to fight, but they also taught you how to love and not judge a book by its cover. 

The love you have for Jisung isn’t supposed to exist in the first place yet the universe tugged the wrong string and now you’re tangled in this intoxicating mess. You wish you could just drive your sword straight into his heart and run away from the palace, from Chan, from him, from everything. But the bond you’ve accidentally created in the long run is now backfiring on your conscience, it disheartens you knowing that you’ll never have a happy ending. 

But if having your heart shattered into a million pieces means he will live happily ever after, then so be it.

seven.

“Your Highness! Your Highness!”

“Let him be.”

Chan abruptly stops the servant from following the crown prince, who’s taking long, hurried strides out of his private courtyard. The gaze in his eyes darkens and sadness glinting in his once warm brown orbs. Gods and fate aren’t very righteous and fair after all. They just love to meddle with the mortals’ feeling as if they’re nothing but mere puppets, created with the purpose to entertain their boring life. But one wrong tug and everything can fall apart, utterly demolished. 

Rain soon comes pouring down on Goryeo, completely oblivious about the life that it’s giving. Whether in warmth or coldness, sunlight or moonlight, rain’s humble with its role. It washes away the soil on the freshly cut grass, on the beautiful rows of flowers in the garden. If only it could wash away the imminent agony in his chest cavity. Each drop sounds like music to the prince’s ears as he feels like he’s taking a trip down memory lane, recalling the day that he met you. 

Jisung will never forget the moment he realized that he loved you. 

You looked about his age, still innocent, almost childish, but with bloodshot eyes from crying and bruised knuckles from trying to wrestle yourself out of the guards’ grip. With a white scarf around your neck, he could barely make out the bottom half of your face but he was convinced, no, he knew that you’re gonna be the most beautiful person he’d meet in the entire kingdom. Far more beautiful than any of the girls he’s ever encountered in the palace. 

And you’re the only person who makes him feel genuinely wanted and loved for who he really is, not just the crown prince of Goryeo. Years after years living side by side, you never really pushed him away even when you’re giving him nothing but what seemed like a look of distaste. And slowly that raw connection grew into something much more meaningful and profound. 

Deep down, he knows that he’ll always love you like it’s the beginning because since day one, since your very first encounter, he has already fallen all in for you. He fell in love with every single inch of you, even the parts that you’re utterly terrified of. He loves the way you talk with your chin high up, eyes full of pride and confidence. Outsiders would call him crazy for falling for someone who’s not ‘qualified’ enough but none of the women in his circle has yet to make his heart flutter. 

But when he started to love you, he realized he’s never loved anyone this way before. He wants to grow old with you, even if that means he can never have the same luxurious life again. Nothing matters when happiness is dangling at the tips of his fingers and he’s never gonna let it go. He’s never gonna let you go. 

And maybe, you might feel the same way after all this time. 

“Y/N!” Jisung calls out to you when he sees your hooded figure at the east gate, which will lead you straight out of the palace as long as you strictly follow the pathway. You snap your head back and meet his eyes. Yes, he can still perfectly make out your brilliant features in this cracked darkness. 

You pull your hood down and your silky hair blows delicately in the wind, your eyes sparkling under the radiant moonlight. You’re still as beautiful as ever, even when there’s evident pain in your surprised expression. “What- What are you doing here?” Your eyes grow twice their previous size, your mouth agape. “Your Highness, aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Your Highness,” you reply bitterly. “Please head back and get some rest. You have to leave early in the morning tomorrow.”

He quickly brushes your words off, “Why would you risk your life out there like that? So easily? So carelessly?”

“I’m fully capable and everything was under control, so I don’t see what’s the problem here.”

“What’s the problem here?” Jisung lets out a humorless laugh, and now you’re starting to think that he’s just messing with you for the hell of it. “It’s not wrong that you put others before yourself but have you ever thought about yourself? Have you ever thought about me? Do you-“ his voice trembles, with every word, he takes another step towards you. “Do you know how scared I was? Do you know how important you are to me?”

Your heart is caught in your throat, thumping vigorously right there, drowning out the sound of the rain and your own breathing. “But you’re more important to me,” you confess with teary eyes, heart immediately dropping to the pit of your stomach. “I’m terrified of losing you but more terrified that you’ll never be happy because of me. So please, stop making it harder for me-“

Your words linger on the tip of your tongue when he embraces you, the warmth of his hands and the coldness of his damp robe sending chills down your spine. Jisung holds onto you so tightly, refusing to ever let you slip out of his arms. And you hold onto him like it’s the last time, relaxing your muscles into the moment. His hands on the small of your back burn like fire and his love for you prickles your heart. Yet you’re willing to throw yourself at the burning forest of thorns because you know that you’re the happiest when you’re with him. 

“I’ve always imagined myself being happy,” A smile blooms on his lips. “And it’s with you.”

But your mind tells you otherwise as much as you want to run away with him. You can’t have the kingdom on the verge of falling because of the new king’s sudden absence on the throne. Moreover, you’re bound to your own hatred and duties, you can never be the reason for him to simply throw everything away. 

“A wise king will always put the people’s needs before his own, Your Highness,” And his smile falls, your words tugging at his heartstrings. “You should head back now, it’s getting late. Do allow me to escort you there.” 

Jisung doesn’t reject it because he’s afraid that this might be the last time he’ll ever meet you. 

eight.

Night falls fast upon Goryeo. No more than an hour ago was the sky painted with beautiful hues of red, orange and pink when Chan came back to the palace with a deep wound on his shoulder blade. Now there’s nothing left but a matte black canvas without stars to be looked upon. Other than the everlasting darkness, you and your trusty horse, all that seems to exist is the chilly wind with the uneasy feeling twisting in your stomach. 

You’ve underestimated the cold of the night when a breeze passes by you and your heart shudders. You can’t tell whether it’s because of the chilling touch or something else, the only thing on your mind right now is the crown prince. Even if losing him to someone else forever means saving his life, you won’t dare to protest twice. 

It’s a battlefield that can’t quite appear as anything else; the clangor of weapons has died down, the shouting of the slaughters and victims have been hushed, an eerie silence lays on the crimson-colored ground, where the dead soldiers lay in heaps. 

The moon finally reveals itself once you hop off your horse, red marks evident across your palms from clutching onto its reigns for so long. Under the blindingly silver light are broken blades glitter along with the soiled, bloodied armors that you can recognize without effort. The once harmless village is now void and eerie like a graveyard for the unburied. These men have sacrificed their lives for someone you should have protected with your own. Life moves on so easily but somewhere, their fathers, mothers, their brothers, sisters or even children are waiting in vain. 

And it’s all your fault. 

Silent sobs form inside your throat as you bite them down, your legs growing weak at the sight of the dead crown prince, his eyes as immobile as his limbs, blood oozing from the fresh wound on his stomach while his helmet is abandoned next to his body, snapped in half, utterly useless.

Leaves rustling softly. Wisps of air whispering against your eardrums. The moon silent as if it’s mourning for him.  

You hug his limp body close as tears stream down on your cheeks, your skin cool against the night breeze. Your heart aches with every heavy breath that you take, every cell inside your body is shuddering, accepting defeat in the thick darkness. You’re losing the man you love because of your own inconsideration and stubbornness. 

“You came,” Jisung rasps out, dehydration straining his vocal cords as he can feel his body getting weaker by the second. “You really came..”

You force a smile to mirror his expression, “Of course I’d come, I swore to protect you with my whole life, didn’t I?” 

He touches your cheek delicately as if you’re the most fragile thing in this world, but also to prove to himself that he’s not dreaming. “I thought you hated me.”

“I could never hate you, Jisung.”

“Why not?”

“Because I ended up loving you,” you say. “Even when I promised myself that I would never fall for someone like you.”

Jisung nods and his hand feels cold against your cheek, mustering every strand of willpower left to stretch out one moment into a thousand, just so he can embed every detail of you into the deepest parts of his heart and soul. “It shouldn’t hurt us like this, it shouldn’t be this painful.” He manages to whisper. “But it is what it is.”

He’s not ready to let you go, but he doesn’t have a second choice. No one ever does. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” Jisung smiles at you one more time and takes his last breath, allowing death to engulf him wholly. 

“Jisung,” you choke out, caressing his face when his hand falls from your cheek. Like a fool, you’re still holding onto that slim ray of false hope with the wish of him waking up again and smiling at you. “Didn’t you say that whatever I do, where I go, you’ll always come back to me? Huh? So why can’t you?”

As the warmth slips away from his body, you cry out aloud, almost desperate for the gods above to hear you. You can hear your own sounds, raw from the inside like a distressed child, “I love you, please just wake up,” you sob. “I won’t run away, I’m never gonna leave you again. I’m right here! So why can’t you just wake up? Why?!” There’s no word to describe the grief-stricken feeling that’s panging repeatedly on your chest. It tears you apart, piece by piece until you’re left with nothing but the broken shards, having no choice to carry them with you like an unwanted scar for the rest of your life. 

“I will be your queen! If that’s what it takes for you to just look at me again,” you tell him with a prolonged sigh, shivers running down your spine before it goes numb. You rock Jisung back and forth, gazing grievously at the empty space ahead with bloodshot eyes, streaks of tears drying on your cheeks like a madwoman. “Come back to me, please, I need you, more than anything in this world. Please..” 

“Please, stay with me..”

You ignore the pool of tears in your eyes and try to study his features; from his doe eyes, his button nose, and his prominent philtrum. You’ve always stared at and admired him like it’s your first encounter but this time, it’s probably the last. Because no stars are present to grant a wish upon you anymore. 

Those slaughters owe their lives to him and you’re going to make sure that they all learn their lessons before karma can even get a good grip on their necks. Every single one of them. It’s ironic how you used to be one of them, ignorant and oblivious about what really happens inside the palace. There’s more than just being wrapped in the finest materials of clothing and stepping on the lower class. Jisung taught you to open your point of view so that you won’t be stuck inside your own box of misery and anguish forever. 

“Jisung…” your eyes sting, your tongue tastes sour and the sound of his name is embittered to your ears. “I’ll keep you in my heart for eternities, and watch you from afar.” 

You reach for the sword on his waistline, gripping on the handle so tightly that your knuckles turn white. You’ve failed yourself for not accepting your true feelings and now the consequences are irremediable. If he doesn’t haunt you in the next lifetime, the title of a traitor will until your conscience tears you apart. 

“Until we meet again,” you swallow your tears bitterly. “Time will show you how much I love you.”

You shake your head profusely to prevent your eyes from watering again when you realize how Jisung walked into your chaos and never left. He loved you at your darkest, broke down your walls and let the lights in. Whenever he looked at you, the world just stopped; all noises and beings were canceled out, nothing else mattered. The world just stopped, it’s a beautiful place because there was him. 

Jisung loved you unconditionally, and you don’t think that will ever change. 

If only you repricocated his feelings. 

epilogue.

Time begins to dissolve into itself, and as far as it’s concerned, people will come then unfairly go. Regardless of this haunted, friendless world, time will never stop.

So will you.

Because one century after another, wandering from places to places, even when your hands are stained with blood belongs to who you can’t be bothered to remember, even when tears blur your vision and sting your eyes, even when your mortal body ages into nothing but utter rot, your heart still longs for Jisung every single day. 

The future was always something you ought to worry about, let it be your young mind or the lack of wisdom along with experience, you used to feel an uneasy knot inside your stomach every night, not getting a single wink of sleep. You gave plenty of thoughts in how your entire life is mercilessly confined into a fragile speck of timeline. You didn’t feel like you had much time, every second, every minute, every hour was seemingly slipping through your fingers like sand, disintegrating into the ground like the fallen raindrops, vanishing like a mirage across the desert. But now, you’re having all the time everyone could yearn for in the world. You’re forbidden to look back, for time will end you and all your effort will go to waste.

You broke your promise that day with your parents but you’ve protected the oath of keeping Jisung in your heart and watching him from afar. 

And you have no regrets. You chuckle to yourself as you kick a pebble on the sidewalk. 

It’s absolutely glorious in its own inception, with joints of the grey stones so precisely situated that they’re almost invisible. There’s music on the streets, a melody of chaos being born throughout time, a tempo so buzzing and unique that makes it seem like you’ll never keep up. But that’s what connects the world together, every being united as one with a universal soul. People pushing and shoving each other are almost nothing but phantoms to you, utterly meaningless. You feel like an outcast, but you’re no stranger to the moon or the stars above. 

With the white scarf covering the bottom half of your face, you cross your arms and sigh deeply when your back leans against the wall of an old building. You can tell that it was an apartment complex before, but a team from the authorities is in the process of demolishing it. The paint is chipping, cracks are evident as a result of the previous summer heat. You’ve seen walls like this plenty of times before in movies, but this particular one stirs something inside your stomach because the building seems like it’s in need of love and its time here is up. It makes you wonder, how much time do you have left?

A lot has changed, and so did you. Nothing will ever be the same again but you’re still here for a reason. A purpose. A recognition. 

The sun’s setting as clouds give of their rain to the grass and trees when the scenery before you becomes more alive than ever. Droplets of rain race each other with their own thrilling ride to the earthly surface, creating a soothing harmony from one of Mother Nature’s songs, drowning out the entire world. You can feel each splash warm against your skin, and you watch in amusement when your cardigan turns into a darker shade of blue. 

You close your eyes and see Jisung, just like how you do every night. A day shall not pass unless you think, or dream about him. You see him sitting next to you before the lake, gazing at the stars with your head on his shoulder. You see him stuffing his cheeks with too much food to the point that he looks like a squirrel whenever you’re eating out by yourself. And you see him by your bedside, brushing your hair out of your face and humming the sweetest melodies to you before sleep draws a hand over your eyes. 

But this time, it’s your very first encounter. 

Him speculating the tiniest detail of a droplet of rain like it’s the most wondrous thing he’s ever seen. And you stared at the curious prince dejectedly, mentally scoffing at the odd demeanor for a member of the royal bloodline. You can recall every single detail vividly, it still feels like yesterday when he told you it’s okay to cry, and that he’d always protect you. You wanted to take him by the hand and lead him away. On that very same day, you let his voice soak in, his words and the way his arms held your sobbing form, refusing to ever pull away. 

“I just feel like I have to, and I know in my heart, that it’s right.”

Sometimes the one thing we’ve been looking for our whole life feels so out of reach, but it turns out to be right in front of our eyes all this time. 

You slowly open your eyes and a silent tear rolls down on your cheek. Although blurred from the pool of salty liquid, they didn’t miss how a glimpse of a familiar figure is pushing themselves through the ground with clear difficulties. On the other side of the street, stands a boy with doe eyes, cute button nose, and sharp Cupid’s bow. He’s struggling to hold all the heavy pieces of filming equipment by himself under the rain while his friends are waving him over from a nearby van. 

Despite the frantic expression on his face, you’re more than certain that after all these years, you’ve found him. Both of your worlds seem to collide once again when his eyes flutter upwards from underneath his wet fringe and meet yours, golden specks floating softly in his orbs. His features are glowing under the limited source of light, the wind caressing his now short hair softly. 

Happiness makes your chest swell along with thousands of different emotions that you’ve been holding in for almost a hundred decades now bloom like a beautiful field of flowers. You haven’t felt this way in the longest time, and your lips can’t help but crack into a smile. He’s finally living a good life again. What a relief. 

Someone yells aloud from inside the vehicle, “Jisung, you’re gonna get them all wet!”

“Coming!”

His eyes flit away just as fast as when they held yours, his hood being thrown over his head lazily. Almost coldly. 

He didn’t smile back. 

❖ a/n : if you’ve made it to the end of this fic, thank you so much! It really means a lot to me since my confidence has been shaken up a little. I hope you all enjoyed my attempt at smth different rather than domestic au (or at least I tried) stay happy + healthy always!

[darling-i-read-it]

Supposed Fiancé Part 2

Mob AU

Series Masterlist  

Al Pacino x reader, Robert De Niro x reader, also including Uma Thurman, Emilia Clarke and Rachel Weisz

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: tmurder, cussing,t talks of sex, someone getting shot

Author’s Note: Dude. I love writing this. I do. I’ve planned out two more parts so it isn’t super long but I really really love it and I really hope that you guys do too! 

I’m using the actors to play a role I have created. This is not based off of real life. 

(not my gif)

You stumbled out of bed, understanding where you were the second you woke up which was different for you. You slipped on your high heels, cursing yourself for wearing them last night. You walked downstairs and the bar was already in full swing. You must have slept in a lot.

“Heya princess,” Bobby called, gesturing for the bartender to get you a drink. You held up your hand, shaking your head.

“I gotta catch a cab. I’m surprised Al didn’t come shoot you and leave a shitty calling card,” you said. 

“Stay for a drink. You slept in, it’s alright five.” 

“In the afternoon?”

“Yeah. You must not get a lot of sleep in the casino drug business they got you staying at.” You scoffed and looked out the window before deciding to sit down at the bar behind him. You took the glass the bartender offered.

“I try,” you said. “But thank you again for letting me stay and then not killing me in my sleep.” He chuckled and shrugged.

“I thought about it but I’d have an even bigger target on my head.” You hit his arm and downed the drink quickly.

“You like me. Admit it.” 

“If the NYPD can’t break me you sure as shit can’t,” he said. You stood up and hit his back once more. 

“Thank you. I’ll be back for a drink when my supposed fiance gets to be too much,” you said. He held up a hand, brushing you off.

“Feel free.”

You walked over to Rachel's house. She didn’t live far from the bar and you knew that she would handle this better than Al. You knocked on her door, a quaint apartment that you wouldn’t expect from someone in her line of work. Either way you were sure that she had a gun stash underneath the bed.

“Where the fuck have you been?” was the first thing she asked you. She ushered you inside. “Al almost sent out everyone to look for you.”

“Don’t tell him I’m here.”

“Where were you?” she asked. Wordlessly she poured you a glass of wine and you took it, ready for your second glass of alcohol. You needed it.

“I was at the bar.” 

She slammed her own wine glass down.

“I fucking told him!” She seemed to be elsewhere, thinking about how to deal with Al but then she looked back down at you. “Why did you go there?”

“It was an accident, honest. I just showed up and it was raining. I don’t want to talk about that though, I want to talk about me staying a few nights here. Just in case.” 

You knew that Rachel hated her brother. She knew that you knew that. Al hadn’t given her a thing except for a few stacks of cash and a job that she hated. She didn’t like to take lives in cold blood but she was damn good at it. She was just another hitman to her brother. She wasn’t flesh and blood at all.

“He won’t hurt you,” you whispered.

That was the only saving grace. Al would never hurt Rachel. He may not love her but he wouldn’t kill her, not while their father is still around.

“Two nights max.” You nodded.

“I’ll be out of your hair before you know it. You won’t even notice that I’m here, I swear.” 

--

Uma didn’t need to look very far into Bobby to know who he was and what he could do. There was no one in the city who didn’t know the extent of his power around here. He had grown over the years, just underneath Al’s nose. Something that no one had been able to do before.

That being said, she would have trouble finding a good place to kill him. He was often surrounded by people, people that were heavily armed at all times. Not to mention that he would usually have a hospital or doctor at his disposal at all times. 

Although Uma didn’t act like she wasn’t in love with any challenge. 

She stared at the bar from the cafe across the street. She crossed her legs, watching Bobby as he left. She had been watching him for a few days now and he did this everyday. It was the only thing he did everyday. 

He got lunch at the same place every day which was ironic because he did own a bar that sold food. Uma stood up and did her daily follow, just watching to see what kind of security he had around. 

She had her gun in her pocket for emergencies but knew that there was no need for it quite yet. Not until she had this whole thing down. 

If she made a mistake it would mean her head no matter how skilled she was avoiding men. 

--

Emilia was knee deep in papers. She had found mostly everything she could get her hands on about Al. Old prison time, things he had been released early for, things he was suspected of doing.

She even looked into everything that the locals had said about him. He had been gaining his money mostly from a large casino business he had inherited from his father. He was engaged to you, a past stripper who worked at a place she had busted a husband once. In fact she was fairly sure that she had spoken to you while she questioned people.

Everything was laid out in front of her.

It had all been handed to her in one file that landed on her desk in the middle of the night. She had no heart to wonder who had brought it to her. All she could think about was his hands and the people he had single handedly killed with them.

There were plenty of murders he was connected to by all his friends. In fact, there were over twenty different murders he had been in question for. No arrests had been made on those. 

The only thing he ever served any time for was some bogus drug charges. They were weak and he was out within the year. 

Nothing seemed to stick with this guy. 

Emilia looked up at her wall where everything was hanging up, connected by different strings of yarn. 

“Selling drugs out of his casino,” she said under her breath, “murdering people he or his friends disagree with,” she pointed to a few different pictures of dead bodies, their brains over the pavement, “and marrying a stripper he met a year ago.” 

She raised an eyebrow at that one.

“Marrying a stripper,” she whispered. She turned to the picture of you on the wall, a smiling picture that was gracious on the amount of clothes you had on in it. She hit your picture with her pen.

“Let’s see what he does at the wedding huh Vis?” she said, looking down at her cat. The cat got up and walked away and she laughed. “You weren’t invited anyway.” 

--

Bobby hadn’t seen you in a couple of days and he had expected you to have left his mind by now. Unfortunately he was finding you a rather worthy distraction. 

He was doing his regular things, running the business, changing routine, doing everything he would always do but now he was stuck wondering how on Earth he could get you away from Al. There shouldn’t have been a problem. He had promised himself to stay away from Al until he made the first move.

But here you were, a perfectly almost perfect woman stuck with a guy like him.

He tried to convince himself it wasn’t fate that you showed up at the bar. Maybe you were a mole. He had to think about stuff like that. Maybe you really were in love with the asshole from the casino. It would make sense.

He just couldn’t shake how much he wanted to talk to you. Hold your hips with his hands, share a bottle of bourbon together. 

Bobby knew it wasn’t worth getting everyone all worked up about but his feelings weren’t going away.

That much he knew. 

--

You stood outside of the casino. Al walked outside, no security, bold for him.

He pointed at you and you saw him almost reach for his gun but decided against it. There were customers outside. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into the alley way.

“Where the fuck were you?” he yelled. “You think that’s okay? That you have the right to pull a fucking stunt like that? Leave for three days and my sister comes back telling me you stayed a night at the motherfucking bar?” he yelled, pointing at you, shoving you into the wall.

“What’s it to you? I figured you had enough with the prostitutes that crawl around our room that you might forget I fucking existed!” you screamed. He grabbed your arm and held your arm harshly. 

“He could have killed you.”

“He didn’t! In fact he tucked me in at night and gave me a kiss baby, how about that one, more of a husband than you.” 

“Did you fuck him?” 

“No!”

“Did you fuck my sister?” You scoffed, throwing your arms up in the air. He let your arm go.

“No!” You raised a finger to his face. “I was a loyal fucking fiance.”

“Because when we get married you know you get half of my money,” he sneered. You shoved him, annoyed at him insulting your loyalty when it was all that you had. It felt worthless now. It felt wrong. It had always felt wrong where you were standing. 

You shoved him again and a bullet landed behind you, making you both jump. You jumped into his arms by accident but he pulled out his gun quick, looking around for where the shot had come from. There was another shot and you felt a sharp pain on your stomach.

“Al,” you whispered and he nodded.

“Sit down baby.” 

He sat you down on the ground and pointed the gun at the figure down the alleyway. 

“Uma?” he yelled.

“Boss,” she said, walking closer. He scoffed. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” 

“Protecting you from whoever was shoving you around! Who’s this guy anyway,” she said, pointing to you on the ground. In the darkness of the alley way she didn’t realize that it was anyone she knew. It was then she realized who it was.

“My fucking fiance!” he screamed. “You better get the doctor in the casino or else I’m gonna put two bullets in your neck myself,” he sneered. She nodded , realizing what she had done. 

Al kneeled down beside you and grabbed your arm.

“Helps coming.” 

You spit on the ground beside you.

“I’ll fucking live.” 

Part 3

[notagamersdey]

Freebird

By Tyler D. Ortiz

Rating: M

Word Count: 2k~

Warnings: Violence, insinuations of sexual assault, drug use/mention, murder, character death, bad language

Summary: Local superhero, Lady Griffin, attempts to save a group of hostages during a bank robbery.

~~~

“This is Veronica reporting live at the intersection of Flour and Junction where the domestic terrorist group ‘The Red Hests’ has taken Grand Central High Bank.” The news reporter presses her left index finger into her ear, “They are currently holding over 50 hostages of both visiting customers and employees. No one knows their demands yet, but people speculat - Wait. I’m getting reports that Lady Griffin is passing Grand Central High this moment-”

PHEWWWW!

The news reporter ducks, her hair flying to the left as Lady Griffin speeds by from above, “and there she is! WOW! Look at her go!” The news reporter turns back towards the camera, her hair sticking out in odd angles, “Well, she will no doubt take care of those criminals. Back to you, Jorge.”

Lady Griffin, with light brown wings between her shoulder blades, swoops above the bank building, landing onto the ledge. She jogs up to the rooftop door, pulling at her new uniform which was a bit tight.

“Grif’, stop messing with it, it’ll loosen up,” a voice, Ezra, told her through an earpiece.

“Did you have to get it super tight? I thought we weren’t doing the whole sexy thing,” her bright auburn hair falls against her shoulders as she skids to a stop, yanking the door off its hinges. She cringes slightly, placing it lightly against the wall, “remind me to come fix this later.”

There’s typing on the other end of the call, “Will do. And it’s not about your sex appeal, it's about being pragmatic. It’s light material, and the closer it is to your body, the less wind resistance you have. Don’t you have a college education?” Ezra teases.

Lady Griffin scoffs, “Yeah, in biology, not in astrophysics, or whatever you’re proficient in.” She goes through the door, peering over the staircase. It's a square spiral staircase going on round and round 8 times. The building was 8 stories, the first few filled with cubicles and offices, the rest were holding centers for money, computers, or basically anything else a bank would need to secure its finances. “Alright, Ez’, what are we looking at here?”

More typing, “You’ve got about 6 to 8 armed men on floors 1 to 7, the floor below you is currently under construction. The men rounding up every employee and customer to the middle of the floors. Elevators are down, and you’ve got one man at each stairway entrance.”

Lady Griffin grabs the railings to the staircase, “Any suggestions?”

“Eh. I say start with the bottom floor, you can prevent a shootout with the police, and they wouldn’t be able to get away.”

“Smart move.” She takes a slow deep breath and nose dives to the bottom floor. She moves quickly, expanding her wings to slow her fall. She lightly drops down in front of the door, looking through the tiny glass window. She notices one guy off to the left of the door. Another at the wall farthest from her. They both wore suits, pointing rifles to the ground.

“Hey, Ez’, what kind of rifles?”

“They are...” He pauses. She hears a chair roll away along with the rustling of papers, “PP-19 Vityaz’s. 9mm chamber, stamped steel, carries 30 round magazines. Both semi and automatic, typically used by Russian Special Forces, designed for covert-op. Usually equipped with a suppressor. I guess it makes sense. Cheap ammo, lighter than 5.45 plus a suppressor on this one is much more effective than-”

“Ezra, focus, you’re my eyes. Let me know if they call for reinforcements, I don’t want any surprises.” Lady Griffin, rolling her shoulders back, jumping a few times. Her wings ruffle and shake. She bends down, pulling her ankles up, stretching.

When she stands back up, she takes in air, focusing on her surroundings. She hears the men rounding up hostages the floors above her, she can hear the man breathing from the other side of the door. Heartbeats. Everywhere. She lets her breath out and breaks down the door. The door flies a few feet away, crashing onto the marble floor. The man next to the doorway is the first to react, bringing his rifle up to shoot at Lady Griffin, but she was too quick. She throws a front thrust at the man, sending him flying. The guy that was across the door shoots. Lady Griffin sprints towards him, ducking under the stream of bullets. She blitzes him, thrusting her wings out and back, creating a gust of wind to propel her at the assailant. She punches through his chest, sending him flying to the wall.

“Back up!” She turns to her left to see two more guys running at her. Both trained their guns at her, one holding a radio. Everything slows down again; she sees the sweat drip down both their brows, sees the horrendous, angry teeth from the one talking into the radio. She sees the slightest quiver of the gun. He’s weak. He’s not holding the gun right. “We need back up-” She swiftly rushes her wings forward, sending a powerful force of wind at the two. The guy holding the radio falls; however, his partner holds himself up against the impact.

“If you don’t stop now, I will put a bullet between those pretty green eyes, girl. Just accept it. Just take it,” he adjusts himself.

Ezra’s voice crackles against her ear, “Be careful, darling, you don’t want to hurt yourself.” Lady Griffin suddenly feels dazed. She shakes her head, trying to focus. She slightly relaxes her stance, wings back in their resting position. She places her hand behind her back, smirking at the man in front of her.

“You think you’re special? Just cause the Doc treats you well? You’re nothing, girl, only a mere spec within an indifferent universe.” He gives her a vile grin.

She bursts out laughing, hunching forward, her hand away from her back with a long piece of piano wire, “You think you’re so cool quoting Doctor Strange? You know the bad guys, like, disintegrate in the end, right?” She stands up straight, beginning to wrap the piano wire between her fists, leaving enough room for a head to fit between them, “No matter, I’m not going to go that easy on you.” She gives a wide grin and launches herself.

Meanwhile, up on the seventh floor of the bank, the leader of the Red Hests sits on an office chair, watching his associates continue to round up everyone on the floor. He smirks to himself with a lollipop sticking out of his mouth as he hears one of the women scream in fear.

“Shut up!” One of the men points the barrel at the woman’s face, “Shut up or I’ll hurt you. I’ll really fucking hurt you.”

The leader gets up off the chair, pulling out the lollipop as he walks towards the group. The men have surrounded the employees, all women, in the middle of the room. They sit on their knees, hands zip-tied to their back as the men stick thick duct tape onto their mouths, “Now, now, take it easy. You hurt them; they lose value. But then again...” He kneels in front of the woman who screamed, bringing the lollipop back between his lips, swirling his tongue thoughtfully, “This one doesn’t seem to be that valuable.” He extends his hand out, gesturing blindly behind him. The man closest to him takes out a large bowie knife from behind his back, handing it back to the leader. The women all yelp behind their tape at the sight of the knife, scurrying tightly together. The leader brings the knife up to the woman in front of him, placing the tip onto the tape, pushing forward slightly. The woman just weeps silently, trying her best to keep still.

As he begins to push the knife with vigor, the radio crackles, “Sir, Floor One, we need back up-” Static.

The leader stands up, swiftly grabbing the radio as he takes the lollipop out of his mouth, “Floor One? Come in Floor One.”

Another henchman picks up, “Floor Two Sir! She’s here at Floor-” Static.

The leader looks up at the rest of the men incredulously, “Strap them. We don’t have time.” The men move at tremendous speed, pulling out briefcases and attaching them to each woman’s chest. They all open each brief case at a time, revealing a timer connected to two blocks of C4.

The leader moves off to the side, attempting to warn the other floors, “get away from the doors! Be prepared for that wretched wench! She will come through the staircase, forget the hostages! Focus on the girl!”

“Sir! She’s got-” The sound of a window crashing bleeds through the radio, followed by gunshots and screaming.

“That was Floor Five!” The leader announces, “be ready before we hear from Floor Six!”

Lady Griffin finishes off Floor Six by throwing the last guy out the window. The women behind her gasp lightly. She smiles, turning around as she wipes her forehead sweat with the back of her hand, “Don’t worry, you guys are safe now.” She starts to cut the zip ties, “Do you all know if the leader is on the next floor?”

The women remain quiet until a little girl, with long black hair, and bangs raises her hand, “Yes, he’s there.” Lady Griffin looks up at her, then to the rest of the women. The rest of the women had either blonde or light brown hair, and none of the women resembled the girl in any way. She looked around. Floor Six was one of those floors with offices and cubicles; it was not the type for clients or customers to be wandering around in, let alone with a child.

“Hey, sweetie, is your mom around?” She kneels in front of the girl, holding onto her hands softly.

The little girl looks around, leaning in to whisper, “The bad man told me I wouldn’t see her again.”

Lady Griffin scrunches her eyebrows worriedly, “Did the bad man take her?” She lightly brushes the little girl's hair behind her ear.

She shakes her head, “He took me.”

Lady Griffin lets go of the little girl's hand, “Well, don’t worry. I will take you back. I just have to finish this.” She stands up and leaves for the next floor.

On the seventh floor, Lady Griffin bursts through the door. She is met with the same sight as the last few floors. Men surround the women at the center of the room. The leader, however, is off to the side, sucking on another lollipop. He begins to chuckle, clapping his hands at a slow pace.

“Magnificent. You are glorious creature. Exquisite. A terror to my business, no doubt, but exquisite!” He leisurely walks to only a few feet away from her, circling her like a tiger hunting its next victim. Her wings raise menacingly as the leader gets closer, “Hmmm. No doubt at all. You, Griffin, are a threat. You have a choice. You can either join the rest in the middle there,” she looks behind him, focusing on the bound women, “Or, you can die...”

The men surrounding the women raise their muzzles towards her. She looks between them all. Trying to find weaknesses. Guy on the left has a tremble in his right hand. Guy down the middle is shifting too much between his feet. Her eyes dart back to the leader. The leader...

“Grif’... You have to calm down, or he’s going to do something bad,” Ezra says.

“Shut up!” She pulls the earpiece out, throwing it at the first guy she can. She leaps forward, punching the left and right, taking each man she touched to the ground. The leader continues to circle the room, watching the scene before him with calculating eyes.

Lady Griffin grunts as she grabs the last henchman by the neck, pushing him up against the wall. She slams his head once, twice and then a third time. She doesn’t stop until he crumples to the floor with blood seeping out of his skull. She wipes her hands onto her uniform then scratches at her face. She quickly turns around, looking for the last assailant. He is smirking at her, “Wow, truly a beast. You really are an animal, Grif-”

“Don't call me that.”

“But I’m afraid, this is the end. As much of an asset as you are, you must go...” His hand disappears behind his back, but Lady Griffin pays no mind. She charges. For her, it’s slow. Her wings are spread out, casting a shadow over the leader's entire body. Her face is scrunched as she baring her teeth at him. Her arms are gunning for his neck. A smile creeps onto his face, contorting it to looks monstrous. He begins to pull out his hand from behind his back, revealing a small syringe. Her eyes return to his. His eyes are black. Her surroundings begin to fade. She blinks a few times. And suddenly pain.

…

A girl is naked, laying on her side on top of a raggedy air mattress in a small makeshift tent made from old windbreakers and newspapers. Her back, from the shoulder blades to the elbow, is covered in large tattoos of wings. Her wrists and ankles bruised and burned from pulling at the now loose plaited rope. A man is next to her, looking down at her with sad eyes. With gloved hands, he puts a few fingers onto her neck, looking for her pulse. Her heartbeat is erratic. Her breathing is slow with a high wheezing. He turns her onto her back, pulling a penlight from his back pocket, looking into her eyes. Extreme dilation. He sighs, bringing her to her side, patting her lightly.

“So?” A man asks at the entrance of the tent, his arms crossed, foot tapping, lollipop between his lips.

The man on the floor huffs, “I warned you. You gave her too much... We need to get her to a hospital, or she won’t make it.” He moves to pick her up when the man scoffs.

“Pff! Hospital?” The man takes the lollipop out, “What the hell do I pay you for if you need to go to a fucking hospital?”

“I don’t have anything that could treat this.”

“Don't give me excuses, Ezra, you’re costing me my best fucking asset here. People come from all over for ‘Lady Griffin’. I’ve got people booked all the way to tomorrow for her! Not to mention everyone in this God damn country is looking for her.”

Ezra looks at him incredulously, “So what’s it going to be? You let her die, and you lose even more money, or you take her to the hospital, and only lose a few thousand...”

The man laughs, “Yeah right... Cops will be all over that place the moment they take her blood.” He plops the lollipop back into his mouth, swirling it around with his tongue as he looks at the girl, “You know what, Doc, just let her croak. Pussy’s pussy, right? All the girls are fucked up anyway, so it's not like it'll make a difference. We will take her to the river after the last client leaves.” With that, the man walks away, leaving Ezra with the girl who was known as Lady Griffin.

Ezra sighs, annoyed, as he takes off his gloves, throwing them at the windbreaker wall across from him. She moans slightly, opening her eyes in a daze. He crosses his legs, staying by her side as he strokes lightly at her cheek, “I’m sorry, Darling, I tried. I really did.” She attempts to say something, but it comes out in a garbled mess, “Shh... Don’t worry... you don’t have to talk anymore, Grif’. You’re free.” Her eyes drift, her breathing fades. She dreamed that she was flying, until it faded into a starry oblivion. At last, she is free.

~~~

Let me know what you think, if missed any warnings or tags as well!

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Till Next Time!

-Dey

[andorerso]

Okay can I maybe ask for one more?? I just saw “We need groceries, not just junk food. You’re worse than the kids.” and it made me giggle

Thank you for the prompt, hope you like it! There’s a lot of family fluff, children, talk about children etc. I don’t usually write about these things so I hope it’s not too cheesy. Enjoy :)

Jyn whipped around, staring atCassian in disbelief. He was sitting at their kitchen table, eating toast, andwatching her cautiously.

“I’m sorry, you agreed to what?”

He swallowed his bite.

“I agreed to look after Poe forthe weekend while Shara and Kes fly out to Hawaii for his cousin’s wedding,”Cassian repeated patiently.

Jyn took a menacing steptowards him, her own plate of toasts still in hand. “You weren’t talking aboutjust Poe a moment ago.”

Cassian held up his hands indefense.

“Well, Han and Leia heard, andthey practically begged me to take Ben too. They said they really needed sometime together. Frankly, I took pity on them. You remember that Luke said theywere having some problems. Maybe a weekend alone will help.”

Jyn dismissed the issue of Hanand Leia’s marital problems for now.

“And what about Finn? And Rey?”

Cassian was positivelyfloundering now. “Rey practically screamed that she wanted to come too, andBodhi, very helpfully, suggested it could be a sleepover party. And you knowRey and Finn, where one goes, so does the other. I couldn’t say no.”

He very well could have but Jynknew Cassian – when Rey looked at him with her big doe eyes and pouty lips, hewas putty in her hands. It was usually adorable, though rather frustrating atthe moment.

“Did I mention that in return theyall promised to babysit our own kids someday?” Cassian asked casually. “Becausethey did.”

Jyn sighed. Her husband was adamn pushover when it came to kids.

“So you’re telling me thatwe’re looking after four children between the ages of five and eight for threewhole days?”

“Essentially.” He paused. “I’msorry.”

Jyn snatched away the knifefrom Cassian’s hand, using it to butter her own toast.

“It’s fine,” she told him, alittle snippy. “But you’re cleaning up after them.”

A week later they were coursingthrough the local supermarket with Jyn slowly pushing the cart and four kidsrunning wild in front of them. They were loud and misbehaved, and they got afew looks from other customers – but they were laughing as they picked thingsoff the shelf and Jyn had to admit it was pretty adorable. Cassian’s smile was unwaveringas he watched them.

“Auntie Jyn, can we getchocolate chip ice-cream?” Rey bounded up to them, eyes round and pleading.

“Sure, sweetie.”

“What about apple cinnamon Cheerios?”Finn asked as he followed Rey, already holding a box in his hand.

Jyn gave Cassian an amused lookthen shrugged. The kids had been putting in sweets and snacks left and rightfor the past ten minutes but neither of them had said no yet.

“Put it right in.”

Finn obeyed with a happy grinand Jyn knew why they didn’t have the heart to refuse them anything. They weretheir aunt and uncle, they were supposed to spoil them a little.

“Thanks for not bailing on me,”Cassian said as Finn and Rey ran ahead again.

“Oh, I was tempted. It wouldhave served you right.” Jyn paused, giving Cassian a little playful nudge. “ButI couldn’t leave you in the lurch. We’re a team.”

Plus, she really did love herniece and nephews.

“And,” he began, in that casualtone he used when he was anything but casual, “it could be good practice forwhen we have kids.”

Jyn withheld a smile. She knewhow Cassian felt about children, she always had, but she told him, when theygot married, that she needed more time before she was ready to have any of theirown. That was four years ago and he never pushed the issue, only occasionally makingsmall comments like this. Lately, they had become more frequent and less subtle,but she couldn’t say it particularly upset her.

“Cassian,” she said, just asnonchalant, “when we have kids, it’s not going to be four.”

Before he could response, therewas a loud thump coming from the direction of the kids and they both turned tosee several boxes of cereal on the floor and Poe and Ben loudly arguing oversomething. Jyn gave Cassian a look that said, “it’s your turn” and with a sigh,he approached them to see what the commotion was about.

As he settled the issue betweenthe kids, Jyn pushed the cart ahead to get some frozen pizza from the fridge. Cassiandidn’t like them – he always said that they didn’t need that trash when hecould cook well enough for the two of them. Jyn, for her part, wasn’t thebiggest chef and she knew it never hurt to have emergency food at home. Therewere times when it came in handy, no matter what Cassian thought.

She grabbed a box of the typethey usually bought, then straightened up to watch Cassian with the kids. Hewas kneeling down, one hand on Poe’s back and the other on Ben’s shoulder as hesoftly talked to them. A small smile played on her lips. He was good with them.They were all listening to him, practically hanging on to his every word. Jyncould so easily imagine a little brown-haired girl staring up at him with adoration,or a little boy the spitting image of his father laughing as he made faces athim. She wanted that.

Subconsciously, a hand driftedto her stomach. A woman stopped next to her, giving Jyn a friendly smile.

“You have a lovely family,” shesaid just as Cassian hugged Poe and Ben to his sides.

Jyn paused, so caught up in thesight that it took a moment for the words to sink in.

“Oh.” She shook her head. “No,they’re not my kids. We’re just taking care of them for the weekend. But thankyou.”

The woman gave her another kindsmile before pushing her cart forward. Jyn stood still, staring at Cassian withthe kids. She was still holding the pizza in her hand when he came back, the fourchildren now perfectly appeased.

“Is that frozen pizza?” Hesighed. “Jyn, we talked about this. We need groceries, not just junk food.You’re worse than the kids.”

Jyn shrugged but before shecould answer, Rey dropped another box of cereal, declaring “Oops,” in a loudvoice. Cassian gave them an exasperated but fond look. Jyn laughed.

“This doesn’t really make meanxious to start popping out kids, you know.”

“Hey, we can handle these four,we can handle one baby.”

Jyn paused, running a handthrough her hair. She was finding it hard to figure out how best to approachthe topic – even though they were alreadytalking about the topic.

“You really want that?”

Cassian looked at her, caughtoff-guard by the questions. “Well yeah, someday. We talked about it.”

“I know but… when is someday?”

He shrugged but his nonchalancewas fake. “Whenever.”

She gave him a strict look andhe folded.

“Today, tomorrow, next year. I’mready, Jyn. But I’ll wait until you are.”

She nodded absently. That waspretty much what she expected his answer to be. They walked ahead in silencefor a few seconds, her brain racing with thoughts.

“Hey,” she said slowly,catching his eyes, “You know I was joking earlier. About not wanting to havekids.”

“What?” Cassian asked, blinkinga couple of times. “Oh yeah, sure. I know.”

“Because I think you’d make anamazing dad.”

He paused, staring at theground for a while before he could stand to look at her. The insecurity in hiseyes came from growing up without parents. She would know, she was in the sameboat.

“Really? You think so?”

“Oh yeah.” She nodded, not ahint of doubt in her mind. “Absolutely. I mean those kids adore you, you knowthat.”

Cassian gave her a smile sobeautiful, her heart skipped a beat. Even after all these years, he could stilltake her breath away. She hoped that would never change.

“For the record, they adore youtoo.”

She smiled at the ground, herturn to be bashful. They were silent as they browsed the aisles, watching thechildren. At some point Rey, the youngest, ended up climbing into the cart torest. The boys continued on ahead, taking everything off the shelf to examineit. Rey was beginning to fall asleep when they walked by the alcohol aisle and Cassianreached out to grab her favorite brand of whiskey.

“Ah no, leave it,” Jyn toldhim. She was the only one who liked that stuff; Cassian usually preferred wine.

“But we’re out of it at home.”

“I know.” Jyn paused, bitingher lip. “But I won’t be able to drink it for the next couple of months.”

Cassian said nothing, staringat her in confusion as his mind practically whirred trying to figure out whatshe meant. Jyn’s lips were already curling into a small smile, patientlywaiting until he finally understood what she was saying. She could barelycontain her grin as his eyes widened, running over her body and settling on herstomach. The joy she could see on his face, lighting up his whole body, wasworth every agonizing question she asked herself about her ability to be a mother.Whatever happened, Cassian would be there to help her.

He stepped forward, taking herhands, looking at her with a hopeful searching expression. His eyes were wideand shining.

“Are you –”

She nodded, laughing a little. Herown eyes were beginning to tear up in response, but she ignored it. Hormones. Were they already kicking in?She had no idea, frankly, she would have to ask one of her friends how thewhole pregnancy thing worked. But right now, all she cared about was Cassianstaring at her in awe, his hand warm in hers.

“Looks like we’ll be able to cashin those promises of babysitting soon enough,” she said quietly. Cassian letout a happy laugh.

“How long have you known?” heasked, his eyes sparkling.

“I’ve had my suspicions, but Ionly confirmed it yesterday. I didn’t want to say anything until I knew forsure and then the kids came over and we didn’t have the chance to talk…”

“But you’re happy, right?You’re okay with it?”

“Yeah,” she said softly,squeezing his hand. “I’m ready, Cass.”

That was all he needed to hear.The next second, he was pulling her to his chest, kissing her forehead, hercheek, her lips. Jyn let him have his moment, smiling when he pulled away andput his hand on her stomach. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Can you feel anything?” heasked, the excitement barely containable in his voice.

“Cassian, I’m barely a fewweeks along,” she replied, laughing. She knew he was going to be overzealousfor every second of her pregnancy, but she didn’t really mind.

“Right,” he said, a littledisappointed, but it didn’t last for long. He shook his head, looking aroundthe store. “I can’t believe you told me you’re pregnant in a supermarket in themiddle of the alcohol aisle,” he said but he couldn’t sound stern while hestill looked so overjoyed.

Jyn laughed. “You proposed tome in the car in the middle of a traffic jam. We’re even.”

Just then, there was a shout upahead, a petulant voice screaming “It’s mine,” and Ben stomping his feet on theground.

“Boys,” Jyn called out to them,“What did we tell you about fighting with each other?”

“Sorry, aunt Jyn,” Finn shoutedback but they continued to argue amongst themselves, only quieter. Jyn shookher head but when she looked at Cassian, he was giving her a look full ofadoration.

“You’ve got this mom thingdown, you know.”

She rolled her eyes, but shesecretly appreciated his reassurances.

“Yeah, yeah, you can stopstaring at me like I hung the moon and the stars now. It’s embarrassing.”

“Sorry. Can’t help it.”

She shook her head, a littlefond, a little exasperated. The smile on her lips felt like it was permanentlyfixed on her face. It was so unlike her but – she couldn’t help it. She wastruly happy. With Cassian’s hand in hers, great friends, a secure job, adorablenephews and nieces, and their own baby on the way, she had everything shewanted.

“Uncle Cassian, uncle Cassian,can we get cotton candy too?” Finn ran up to them to ask. Cassian was noddingbefore he even finished speaking.

Jyn doubted he’d say no toanything they asked him now.

[everlarkficexchange]

Prompt 33.

Written by: @wendywobbles

Prompt 33: “Where’s my engagement ring?” [submitted by @sunflowerslyf​]

“Where’s my engagement ring?” Katniss looked from her bare hand at her friend Johanna. Jo had popped into Katniss office with a coffee and they were chatting when suddenly Katniss realised her ring wasn’t on her finger. She spun on her chair and frantically started lifting things up from her desk.

“Relax” said Jo “I’m sure it’s here.” She started looking too, scouring the floor around the desk.  

It wasn’t in any of the usual spots.  Katniss Everdeen had a habit of taking off her ring when she was working, it annoyed her when she was typing and despite her colleagues warning that she was going to misplace it up to today she hadn’t….except that time she left it in the bathroom on the first floor and Leevy returned it two hours later or the time she left it on the kitchen window sill in Prim’s apartment, then that was the time she left it in the Mellark’s after dinner one Sunday. Old Edna, Peeta’s mum, had a field day with that “mark my words if she can leave this trinket behind so easily I dread to think what your marriage will be like” this was one of the nicer things she had said-the old bag-and she’d lot count of the times she left it sitting on the counter top at home

But recently work had been busier than usual, with more events then normal on the calendar and extra work Katniss had been running around, skipping lunch, working longer hours and she had lost some weight and more than once the ring had slipped off, she knew she should have been more careful…..

“Ok…OK.. lemme think. I’m not panicking. I am not panicking” Katniss was clearly panicking.

Jo rolled her eyes she had been through the lost ring drama more than once with Katniss. “Relax Brainless, let’s just retrace your steps and see if we can work it out”

“Ok, so this morning I had a doctor appointment – before you ask no I’m not pregnant- I remember having it then.  Then I went home before I came to work.  Peeta is going away to that Culinary Convention in District 2 so I wanted to see him before he went.  He won’t be back until tomorrow late“

“Bluegh I get it you two lovebirds couldn’t be parted. Continue”

“Whatever Jo. Anyway I helped him pack the last of his stuff and drove him to the airport. The car! I’ll check  the car. Where are you going?” Jo had thrown her coffee cup in the bin and was following Katniss.

“Eh it’s Friday, I’m bored. We’re going  on a pearl hunt” Jo laughed at her joke, Katniss just looked blankly at her “The kids book by Michael Rosen? “We’re Going on a Bear Hunt” Never mind” Jo shoved Katniss out the door muttering something about needing to read more.

They marched down to Katniss car and pulled it apart, by the time they were finished that had found a pair of shoes, an odd sock, a bracelet, Peeta’s old sunglasses and about $15 in loose change but no ring.

“Ok” said Jo pocketing the change “where to next?”

“Back to work, it’s only gone 3 and we’re here until 4 at least. Come on let’s go.  It’s probably be at home”

“Fine.  I’ll ring Gale and tell him I’ll be late this evening and I’ll help you look at home.  We’ll find it” for all her sharp edges and rough ways Johanna Mason would move heaven and earth to help her loved ones “Plus it’ll give me break for the hellcats for a bit longer ” she cackled as she walked away.

She shook her head and tried to concentrate on work but she couldn’t. She rang the doctors to see if maybe it was there but they had nothing. She needed to find her ring.  She thought back to the day Peeta had proposed and then the saga that was finding her the perfect ring……

18 months ago

“So is that a yes?” Peeta Mellark was standing  in the middle of his and Katniss kitchen in their newly purchased house-he would have been kneeling but the prosthetic he wore made it difficult.

They had just bought their first home together and were unpacking.   Katniss found the toaster and has thrown some bread in to make toast. This moving lark was hard work and she was starving a couple of slices of toast, with real butter and marmalade was just what she needed.  She turned to ask Peeta what he wanted when she saw him standing there with a half afraid look on his face, a big question on his lips and a small box in his hands.

The first thing Katniss did was drop the bread she was holding, the second thing  she screamed  yes and the third thing….well I leave that to your imagination.

Afterwards as they lay on the sofa, relaxed and blissfully happy Peeta suddenly remembered he had forgotten to give her the ring.  He hopped up and walked naked through to the kitchen following the trail of their discarded clothes and grabbed the ring box . 

“Not a great start to my new role of fiancé I forgot to give you this. Now it just a plain silver band until we can find “the one” He sat back down beside her “I looked and I couldn’t find anything that really fit for you.  You don’t wear jewellery so I want to make sure that your engagement isn’t too big, top showy. I looked at diamonds, I looked at emeralds and then there were the different metals and settings it was far more difficult than I thought.  I hope you don’t mind?”

“No Peeta how could I mind! I’m happy with this” she looked at the silver band now sitting proudly on the third finger of her left hand.  Now let’s go order some Chinese food and crack open the champagne Prim gave us for moving in here and celebrate our engagement.”

And so Katniss and Peeta announced their engagement.  Friends and family were delighted.  Mrs Mellark couldn’t understand why Katniss didn’t have a diamond.  She actually asked Peeta could he afford a ring. Katniss wanted to smack the old hag but she resisted the urge.  Peeta simply smiled and told his mother that yes he could afford a ring but he and Katniss were going to choose the perfect ring together.  She still didn’t understand and was heard muttering that she would never understand these hippie kids and what was wrong with tradition.

So they started looking for a ring.  Peeta was right finding the perfect Katniss ring was not easy.  Pushy sales assistants didn’t help matters insisting all the girls LOVED a diamond,  and  while Katniss did think they were pretty they weren’t her.   After two months Katniss was fed up and so when it came time to visit Katniss mom in District 4 she was glad to take a break.

They flew to District 4 where Mrs Everdeen lived and worked. She moved there some time ago to take up a position in the local maternity hospital.  Since she couldn’t travel to 12 when Katniss and Peeta gotten engaged she invited them out and paid their airfare as an engagement gift.  They jumped at the chance, between buying the house and the usual stress and strains of life it was a while since they had been away.  They had a lovely few days and on Saturday morning Katniss was sitting with her mother having breakfast Peeta was having a rare lie in.  They were talking about this and that, Katniss was regaling her mother with some of the ring shopping stories.

“Before you say anything mother, it’ not because I’m fussy. I just have specific requirements….ok I’m a bit fussy “ she grinned as she said this

“Morning Everdeens” Peeta was up, he leaned in to give Katniss a kiss on the cheek “I keep telling you Katniss you are allowed to be cautious and you want to be sure of your choice,  this will be on your finger for life unless you trade me in for a newer model someday” he said this with a smile.

“Never!” responded Katniss

Mrs Everdeen smiled at the two of them “How about when you guys are ready we head down to the market and have a look around, there are a few jewellers and goldsmiths down by the Marina. We can grab lunch as well, what do you think?”

“Sounds great Mrs E”

It was a lovely day, they were in no hurry so they took in the sights, walked along the beach. Peeta bought some seaweed salt convinced he could make use of it in the bakery back home.

They found Cresta and Odair Goldsmiths and Fine Jewellery and decided to have a look.  The pieces on display were all inspired by nature and had simplicity to them that Katniss was quite taken with.  Annie Cresta and her husband Finnick ODair were in the shop Annie was dealing with customer while Finnick was working on something.  Katniss looked at several of the designs and when Annie finished with the other customer so came over and introduced herself and  they got chatting Peeta and Katniss explaining they were looking for an engagement ring, and the difficulty they were having finding one that really spoke to them.   Annie showed them a further  selection of rings and there was no denying they were beautiful but not quite right.  At this point Finnick had come out and was chatting to them when Katniss caught sight of a bracelet he had on “Excuse me? What’s that symbol?” Katniss asked as she pointed at his arm

“This is a Claddagh it’s a traditional Irish symbol it represents love, loyalty and friendship.  The heart is the love, the hands friendship and the crown represents loyalty.  Do you like it? It is more traditionally seen in a ring here I’ll show you?” Annie passed Finnick a design book with pictures of rings designed and crafted by Finnick.

Peeta and Katniss looked through and Katniss knew this could be the one for her “Yes but I would like it more contemporary, flatter… am I making sense?”

“Of course! And if you’re not it’s our job to bring your dream to reality. If we go with a wishbone style, which is easy enough to fashion from the shape we can make a wedding band to sit perfectly with the engagement ring Let’s get to work” said Finnick

And they did. Finnick helped to bring Katniss vision to reality. Peeta had noticed that some of the pieces in the shop had Mother of Pearl inlaid so he asked Finnick if it would possible to use that in the ring as  the heart.  Finnick said that shouldn’t be a problem.  Peeta liked the idea of part of 4 being in the ring.

So when Katniss and Peeta left District 4, the making of the ring was underway and they would have it in a few months.

And now she had lost it.  This was awful.  She wondered how Peeta would react when she told him.  This was Peeta she knew he would be ok and I mean they had insurance.  It wouldn’t be the same but that was ok except  it wasn’t she had to find that ring.

She picked up her phone and called Jo “Jo meet me at the car in 10 minutes.  We have a ring to find”

As Katniss left her office and headed to the reception to wait for Jo. 

“Hey Katniss, heading out early?” asked Keith one of security guards at her office.

“Yeah. Keith I don’t suppose anyone handed in a ring today? I’ve lost mine” she described it but Keith said there was nothing left with him. He said he would send an email round to all the building and he would let the cleaning crew know to be on the lookout.

“Thanks I’d appreciate that. I’ll leave my mobile number you can call me if anything turns up”

“Right! Let’s get going” shouted Jo “I’ll follow you in my car. Oooo I’m starving can we order food when we get to yours? Bye Keith, see you Monday”

Once they got to the house Jo got Katniss to retrace her steps and they walked through the house but turned up nothing.

“Wait! Peeta would have emptied the bins before leaving….oh god I’m going to have to go through the rubbish” Katniss wailed

“Well we won’t  be doing that tonight.  Let’s get the gang together and pull this place apart tomorrow we’ll find it before Peeta gets back. Now I’m heading home I’ll be here with Gale and the kids tomorrow about 10? Oscar and Emily will  be delighted to help in the search plus their tiny child hands can get into places we can’t.  We’ll get Madge, Delly and Darius round too”

After Jo left Peeta called Katniss.  Peeta was in his element at the conference talking a mile a minute about meeting news suppliers, learning new techniques and making new contacts.  He was going to meet his brother who lived in District 2 for dinner this evening then tomorrow there were a number of workshops he was attending.  Katniss smiled as Peeta prattled on about this and that.

“Enough about me, how was your day?”

“Good, nothing unusual.  I finalised at the details for the training event next month so the pressure is off for a few days at least.  What time are you back tomorrow?”

“My flight is back in  lands at 7 I thought we could go to Sae’s and grab dinner when I get in?”

“We could or we could just stay in……..I mean you’ve have been away  and well Peeta a woman has needs……” she whispered seductively

“Check the freezer” laughed Peeta “you didn’t think I’d leave you without a supply of cheese buns did you”

“And that is why you are the perfect man for me Peeta Mellark, but I still think we should stay in”

“Ok well love you. I got to go meet Lincoln. I talk you tomorrow”

“Bye Peeta, love you”. 

True to her word Jo arrived with the troops the next morning.  Katniss has coffee and pancakes ready.  Jo being Jo called everyone to order “Listen up people! We have a situation on our hands.  We are here to help Katniss find her engagement ring which she has lost. Again.  Now we are going to pull this house apart.  Every piece of furniture, every drain, every bin –no stone left unturned.  Right Kantiss and I will take the upstairs, kids you come with us.  Gale and Darius you are an on rubbish sorting, garden and car.  We looked at the car already but going over it again is probably a good idea. Madge and Delly hit up the kitchen, living room, dining room.  We’ll find this bad boy!”

Gale laughed at his wife “Honey we really need to get you a hobby, but for now Darius let’s get ready to play in the bins”

Delly asked Katniss if she had sat on any particular sofa or chair yesterday “No I don’t think so why?”

“Well I started an upholstery class last month and I could easily remove and replace the base of the sofa if you needed to look in there.”

Katniss was slightly horrified but desperate “Do whatever you’ve got to do Delly”

She ran upstairs to where Johanna was she had all the shoes and handbags Katniss owned out on the floor and Oscar and Emily where shaking t hem then flinging them over their shoulders when nothing fell out. Jo meanwhile was stripping the bed and shaking pillows.  She pointed and Katniss “You can check your beside tables….you don’t want me finding out what’s in your goodie drawer”

Oscar was instantly alert to the words “Goodie drawer” “Aunty Katniss do you keep a drawer of sweets and chocolate in your bedroom…..that is so cool. Can I have something?”

“No Oscar don’t mind your mom she said…erm hoodie drawer….it’s where Uncle Peeta keeps his hoodies. Oooo look what’s that?” Once Oscar was distracted Katniss threw a sock at Johanna.

The search of the house turned up no ring. 

The search of the bins turned up no ring.

The drains held nothing except hair….causing Gale to comment that Katniss shed more hair then his dog.

The garden had nothing either.  Darius suggested he get his metal detector but as she hadn’t actually spent any time in the garden it wasn’t necessary.

And Delly wasn’t very good an upholstery, Katniss was glad no one could see the bottom of her sofa.

“It’s actually gone” Katniss slumped onto the nearest chair and a lone tear fell from her eye, before she knew it she had started to cry.  Oscar and Emily were watching TV and Katniss was grateful, she didn’t want to scare the kids with her crying.  Her friends all rushed to her and hugged her until she finally stopped.

When she had calmed herself a bit she accepted the cup of tea Madge had made for her and  everyone sat around the table. 

“Have we missed anywhere Kat?” asked Darius “Let’s go back over your movements yesterday again.  From the time you got up until the time you noticed the ring was gone”

“What’s the point?” sighed Katniss

“Look” said Madge “I know we’ve already been through it but let’s start from the top and work our way through your day.  We might have missed something.  We have time and we are not quitters!”  Nods from around the table made Katniss smile and she knew they were right.

“Ok let’s get lunch and then “Operation we’re going on a pearl hunt” can officially begin” said Jo, Gale laughed and from the living room Oscar and Emily started singing and song about a bear, Delly, Madge, Gale and Darius joined the kids singing….Katniss was just lost.

“C’mon” laughed Delly “I’ll help you make lunch”

An hour later and everyone was fed and ready to go.  They did one final sweep of the house Katniss led them through the house stopping everywhere she had been and then back down to the front door.

“Ok. So next thing I did was get in the car and drive to town.  We’ve pulled the car apart twice so I’m satisfied it’s not there.  I went to the doctor’s office,  popped into Mellark’s for a coffee and from there I headed to the chemist and picked up some stuff and finally headed to work.  Don’t look at me like that Joanne….ok I skived a bit but I think I’ve earned it.  I’ve been working my ass off and my fingers to the bone hence the reason I lost my ring” Katniss joked.

“Right so do you wanna drive into town?” asked Gale

The day itself was dry and not too warm, walking to town didn’t take too long but with the two kiddos it might take a bit longer but it was nice spending time with her friends, even if they were spending it looking for her engagement ring “If everyone is up for it, how about we walk? Jo will the kids be okay with that?”

“Sure and we have enough adults here that can carry them if their little legs get tired….and Gale brought the buggy.  We have wheels and we are ready  to roll.  So let’s go.  Everyone ready? Oscar and Emily are you ready to lead us?”

“Yyyyeeeeess” came the excited shouts

“Ok guys  why don’t you start singing our song?” grinned Gale

And they set off to the kids screeching “We’re going on a pearl hunt, we’re gonna catch a big one” and the adults laughing and  Katniss joining in singing the song.

 Thirty minutes later the troop arrived at the doctor’s office and entered in a line with Oscar and Emily leading the way followed by Katniss, Jo, Delly, Madge, Darius and then Gale.

“Oh my!” said the receptionist Effie Trinket “what have we here?”

“Hey Effie, I know I rang last night and there was no sign of my ring but I was kinda hoping that it may have turned up? Maybe one of your cleaning crew found it?” asked Katniss

“Oh dear Katniss I’m afraid not. Are you all looking for the ring? “she asked as she surveyed the group in front of her.

“We sure are” replied Darius “we’re like a modern day Fellowship of the Ring….or something”

“Well in that case good luck in your quest brave sirs and madams” Effie smiled and then indicated to the bucket of stickers and lollypops she kept at her desk  Jo nodded and Effie handed Oscar and Emily one of each.  The kids were delighted and popped their treasures into their backpacks.

“Effie, do you think maybe us adults could get a lollypop too?” asked Madge

Effie laughed and handed them each a lollypop.

“Right! Kiddos are you ready.  Time to get singing again” The gang left a confused looking Effie and marched onto Birdsong Street and headed towards Mellark’s with everyone of then singing loudly “We’re going in a pearl hunt, we’re gonna catch a big one”

Mr Mellark stood at the counter and could hear the singing long before the Katniss and her gang of singers came into sight.  He laughed as they entered, Emily and Oscar headed straight to the display case that held the cupcakes and cookies.

“Hey Mr M” Katniss smiled “I don’t suppose……the thing is….whew this is hard”

“Katniss? You’re beginning to worry me, what is it dear?”

“I lost my engagement ring, I was hoping I had dropped it here” she whispered to him

“Oh my dear, no nothing and I cleaned the shop myself and no one handed it in.  Is this a ring search party” he nodded to the assembled group around the shop.

“Yep” and she relayed the story of the last 24 hours to him.

“It will turn up I’m sure of it” he patted her hand before turning his attention to the adults and children in the shop and spoke to them “Well I think that when a person undertakes a task such of this they require sustenance and who better than a baker to provide this! I have some cheese buns and quiche that I can box up and I think perhaps your little helpers might be allowed a cookie…” this time Gale nodded a yes and smiled.  Mr Mellark packaged everything up and once more the headed out with the kids leading the way and singing loudly.

Katniss stopped outside the chemist. This was her last chance,  Jo stopped beside her and gave her hand a squeeze “C’mon I have a good feeling about this.  Ok kids one last time we’re going on a pearl hunt…”

Katniss headed straight up to the counter and when she spoke to the assistant she had all but given up hope that she would find her ring when she heard the manager Sae call to her “Katniss! We found a ring…well Rue found it. Rue works here part time and she was stocking some shelves and she found a ring, very unusual design it was too. Wait just a second while I grab the lost and found box”

From behind her Katniss heard Delly squeal, the kids asking Gale what lost and found was and were they getting something since everyone else had given them a treat.  Gale hushed them but Katniss smiled. 

“Here we go” she put a box on the counter and everyone peered into it, Gale and Darius had picked Oscar and Emily up so they didn’t miss a thing.

Katniss’ heart sank they was a ring but it was a silver with what looked like and emerald, beautiful but not hers “No Sae, that’s not mine” Sae glanced into the box  “Oh no wait, wait , wait that’s not the ring I meant” She flew off back to the office and returned with and envelope “Here” she  said and Jo reached out and  took it and passed it to Katniss……

“OH MY GOD!” she shrieked “it’s my ring! It’s my ring”  Everyone cheered, then laughed and cheered some more and just at that moment Katniss mobile phone rang.  It was Peeta.

“Shhhhh its Peeta ”she hissed at everyone  “Hey honey, everything ok?”

“Hey, yeah just have a few minutes before my next demo so I thought I’d ring and say hello.  Up to anything interesting?”

“Me? No, no not doing anything exciting” as she said that Emily piped up “But Auntie Katniss tell Peeta we’re going on a pearl hunt”

“Hey Katniss is that Emily? Are you hanging with Jo and the kids,and you’re on a bear hunt? I love that story”

“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know that story?” she asked Peeta

“Ah ask the kids for if you can have  lend of their book, you’ll soon get up to speed. Look  I’ve got to go sweetheart I’ll see you later”

Katniss slipped the ring back on her finger where is belonged.  It was a bit loose but before she could say anything Sae handed her a packet of plastic tubes(at least that’s what it looked like)“Until you get that beautiful ring resized use these “Ring Snugs” it will help keep your ring on”

Katniss pulled out her phone and text Mr Mellark to let him know they had found the ring.

Everyone headed back onto the street.  Katniss felt herself welling up again as she looked  around at her friends “Thank you all,  I really thought I’d lost it.  You gave up your Saturday to wade through garbage, pulled sofas apart, and pulled my house apart and you Jo you especially kept me going.  I can never thank  you guys enough.  But to start with how about we all head back to mine,  I’ll order dinner  and we can relax.  Emily and Oscar would you like to pick a movie to watch?”

A chorus of yes please filled the air and they set off back towards Katniss and Peeta’s house all singing  “We’re going on pearl hunt”

After everyone had headed home that evening Katniss waited for Peeta.  She had debated whether or not to tell Peeta what had happened but as Jo pointed out they had been seen by half the town singing and word would spread.

When Peeta finally arrived home Katniss was waiting with a cold beer and a tall tale for him…. and Peeta had bought her a copy of “We’re Going on a Bear Hunt”

So I hope I did this some justice for you @sunflowerslyf.  This is partly based on something that happened to me only I lost my wedding ring and never found it…..and trying to find a replacement has been way harder then you would think: )

A quick google will throw up the details of the book and song “We’re going on a Bear Hunt” but be warned you may end up with it stuck in your head if you don’t already know it :)

[spoookymoss]

man here’s a story time for y’all.

Working at mcdonald’s was the single worst job i’ve ever had. which might not be a surprise, but like, i genuinely do not know how to explain to people how terrible it is.

on my first day, a grown man threw a tantrum at me for not giving him free stuff (i can’t remember what he wanted anymore, but it doesn’t matter). by tantrum, i mean he grabbed his son’s pancakes and flung them onto the floor at my feet. he looked me in my eyes, smirking and disgusting, & said “guess you have to clean that up.” and you know what? my manager made me clean up after him. didn’t kick him out, cause i guess he was a regular, just made me kneel on the floor and pick up a stack of sticky, half eaten pancakes, right in front of this sick man who was likely getting a kick out of watching me, a 16 year old child, clean up after him. this was MY FIRST DAY.

Notably, I had to clean: vomit in the lobby from a man who overdosed on something (i was told to clean it while we waited for an ambulance to come, instead of closing the store i was just meant to make it look like nothing happened). i cleaned literal cum from the men’s bathroom walls and floor once. i’ve obviously cleaned a myriad of gross bathroom things because people are somehow incapable of cleaning up after themselves or their kids - and the list goes on.

once, i was threatened w a bat, because i had to break up a fight between an old man & some teenager who additionally tapped the back end of his truck with their bumper while coming through the drive through. i tried to report the man but management wouldn’t ban him from the store. once, i watched a man jerk off in between the first and second drive through windows. another time, i was mugged in the parking lot after going home from a late shift, and management didn’t believe me. i’ve had a handful of coins thrown at my face because they weren’t counted right.

in 2020, i ended up having to move back home because of covid, and ended up back at mcdonald’s again for a while. as an adult, they give you less breaks than they do when you’re a minor. for an 9 hour shift, they gave me a lunch, and that was it. mind you, i am disabled, but i was barely an adult at this point and i had no idea how to stand up for myself or ask for accommodations, so after management told me there wasn’t any way for them to give me more breaks or even give me a place to sit once and a while, i killed myself working long shifts on my poor joints. my doctor said that i really could’ve hurt myself working there much longer.

on top of all of this, the job itself is a nightmare of multitasking & talking to rude customers who couldn’t care less that you’re a human being; serving greasy food that makes the air sticky and sticks to your skin, and cleaning up after things you never expect to have to experience.

the management rarely protects you as an employee - since mcdonald’s are owned locally but run as a corporation, there are certain standards of functionality each store has to follow, but the owners can make choices about how to treat you as a person and employee. I was exposed to covid working there - they refused to compensate me for my sick days, because i “chose” to quarantine, since it wasn’t “required” for me to do so. me, immunocompromised and sick all of the time, trying to protect myself from asshole customers that wanted their big macs so bad they were willing to risk my life for it. they didn’t care.

fuck mcdonald’s, fuck fast food places that treat their employees like they’re expendable or less than human, and especially fuck every single customer that has ever treated me or anyone like shit just because they think they’re entitled to a burger and fries.

basically, what i’m saying…. strike. strike hard. or even better? quit if you can. i know i sure as shit wasn’t paid enough for the crap i had to deal with.

[rofics]

Come Together pt. 1

Bts mafia au mixed with hybrid reader! Will feature other groups! Plus hybrid friend.

Warnings: cursing, violence, death (mentions). Really just be careful if you're sensitive to certain topics.

http://rofics.tumblr.com/post/171043039807/come-together-pt-2-bts-gang-au-x-hybrid-reader-and

My family used to rule the city, alongside our allied family. A gang combination that none could destroy, until humans rose up in power more. They no longer respected us hybrids, so our family was overthrown, human gangs taking us out like we were nothing. I knew my family wouldn't come out alive so I went into hiding with my friend, nobody would be able to find us. We would continue our families names, never forgetting the gang that tore us down.

*Present day*

My friend Sacha and I were out and about, our ears and tails hidden in a society that didn't respect hybrids. Our families left us a lot of money behind so we could live comfortably and stay low. Sacha is a black-tailed jackrabbit. Long, brown ears with black lining stand tall on her head, long legs for running and jumping, with a puffy black tail. Her eyes and hair are a light brown color. I, Y/N am an red Alaskan Malamute. My ears are short points on my head with copper red lining, and a fluffy, long, white curled tail. My eyes were blue, a rarity in Malamutes but I never grew out of them like pups normally do. However, in order to look normal in society I wore dark brown contacts when outside.

We didn't really have a plan today, just to stop by the different shops around the neighborhood. There was no need to drive as we've cramped up inside and the weather was nice, not warm but not cold. We were about to walk into a local bookstore but our ears picked up on something, struggling? We looked at each other, debating on what to do but I shrugged and marched towards the sounds, Sacha trailing behind. Malamutes were very stubborn and in charge so my hare friend often went with my antics. We rounded the store and discovered the sounds were coming from the back. We crept along the old brick wall, not wanting to be heard. I peered from my hiding spot and saw a big burly man tossing around a tall, slender male. The smaller male was fighting back but couldn't deal with the others burliness, as this guy was pure muscle.

"Y/N don't" Sacha warned, tone in a low whisper as a growl threatened to slip out of my mouth. I stare at her and let out a small whine, I didn't like seeing people getting hurt, it made my blood boil. I shrug her slender hand off of my shoulder and walk out from my spot, picking up a rock and aiming it at the burly man's head. It hit him right on his temple and he turned to look at me, the smaller male doing the same.

"Whatcha doing shit head? It's not cool to pick on someone smaller than you" I say, kicking at the ground.

"What's it to ya punk?" He growls and I walk towards them slowly. From the sides Sacha has her phone in hand, ready to call for help. Her ears pick up on footsteps and panic rises withing her, she hops out next to me and I side eye her.

"Oh look another one! And it's not even my birthday!" The man bellows, throwing the smaller male to the ground and marches to us. I push Sacha to the side and block this dirt bags punch, elbowing him back. He takes another swing but I duck and kick at his knee full force, he kneels down with a groan so I bring his face in to my knee. There's a sickening crack as I push him back but he gets up, geez this dude was strong. He reaches out to me but rips my beanie off, exposing my ears. I growl and snap his hand back, kicking at the same knee. He buckles again so I take the chance to put my weight into one punch and knock his ass out on the gravel. I kick his side for good measure before snatching my hat back from the ground. Sacha was checking over the other guy during my fight so I look over towards them

"You okay?" I question but I see Sacha's eyes shift so I whip around and am greeted by 6 other males. I take a step back, towards Sacha and the unknown male but he speaks.

"Don't worry, this person helped me. These two aren't a threat" he says, getting up with Sacha's help. He limps over to the group as we stand in front of them awkwardly

"Well, we'll take our leave now" I murmur awkwardly and take a step forward but one holds out a hand in a stopping motion. I eye him, he's in a nice looking suit and had a certain vibe..the leader.

"I'd like to thank you, for helping out my member. I'm RM,leader of the gang Bangtan" he introduces and I cease my glare. He must be second generation, first generation Bangtan was a known ally to our parents gangs.

"It's no problem RM, your parents helped ours out a lot before the incident" I reply which earns an elbow from Sacha. RM stares at me in confusion as I let out a sigh

"My last name is L/N and her last name is Bayle, our families were once very strong gangs before they were taken out" I explain and can see something click in his brain

"So you're the two I've heard about, my father will be happy to know that you're alive and well. Now I definitely would like to thank you. What are your names?" He asks kindly

"Im Y/N, and this is Sacha" I introduce

"Would you two like to discuss something in a more private place?" RM questions and I shoot a glance to Sacha, she nods and replies

"Sure" she chimes.

"Firstly, I want to know everyone elses names before I leave with you" I demand

"Of course, this is Jin, my second in command. Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook, and the one you helped is Taehyung" RM points to each person and I nod at them with a small smile while Sacha gives a curt wave. We walk behind the group, not knowing what we'd need to talk about.

"Are you sure this is okay? We haven't heard from Bangtan in years, should we trust them?" Sacha whispers and I give another shrug

"We don't have a choice, they can't be that bad, Uncle Kim was always kind to us when we were small so why shouldn't we trust his son? Besides, what would they gain from us? Ears and tails?" I mutter, adding the last part sarcastically. Sacha huffs at me, ears twitching under her thick hat. We walk to a small cafe, tucked away in a short alley. I hesitate by the entrance, knowing to never trust alleys with strangers.

"I know it's sketchy but we're not going to do anything to you" Jin pipes up, offering a soft smile. I let out a breath and follow the seven men in, Sacha right behind me. The cafe is quiet with no customers, RM gestures to a long table so we sit with the other members taking their spots.

"I asked you two here to see if you'd be interested in working for us. That guy was from a main rival gang of ours, one of their best fighters and you took him out easily. Gang life comes with a lot of enemies and we can't always look out for each other. My proposition would be for you to be our bodyguards since we haven't found any worthy candidates." RM explains from the head of the table. I look at him with an eyebrow raised

"Are you asking us since you know we're hybrids because of our families?" Sacha questions in agitation and I click my tongue, nodding in agreement.

"Well, this isn't necessarily my request...contrary to what you think my father has kept eyes on you ever since he found out you two were alive. He knows how skilled your parents were and you learned from the best. He'd rather trust you than some random thugs who would demand a fortune for this job" he explains

"Oh so you're saying we're cheap and owe you guys because of our family ties" Sacha retors and I snort, stifling a grin.

"That's not what we're trying to say, but rather that we know you two are extremely capable of this job and would do it better than anyone we could find. The pay would be very hefty in fact, even though you two don't really need it" Jin steps in and I let out a small chuckle

"Sacha's just pulling your leg RM, I'd like to talk to Uncle Kim first if you don't mind, get it from the source before sealing this deal" I say, slipping my hat off and shaking my ears. Sacha kicks my shin under the table and I shrug

"Bee I could care less if they see my ears, I'm proud of what I am" I grin, using her nickname. She huffs at me and slides her hat off as well, tall ears sticking straigh up. She crosses her arms, looking to the side with her arms crossed. Always so dramatic.

"Sure, we can take you to him" Yoongi chimes in, the only other one from the group to speak. Now thinking about it I found it weird how the others haven't uttered a word.

"I am rather curious to what your positions are, I'd also like to hear what the others sound like before I go agreeing to protect all of you" I state, looking at the others. Yoongi speaks first

"I'm in charge of surveillance, digging up people's darkest deepest secrets. Using information against them if they don't respond to physical force." Hoseok speaks up next

"I'm basically the interrogator, I can break anyone and get under their skin." He says with a smile.

"I'm the spy, infultrate gangs and find out information with Yoongi hyung. The guy from earlier found out and that's why I got a beating" Tae admits.

"I'm the weapons expert, so I supply everyone with weapon training" Jimin adds proudly and Sacha's ears peak up, weapons are her specialty as well despite her being timid.

"I'm the enforcer, the muscle of the group you could say. I'm also the best at hand to hand combat" Jungkook finishes and I lean back in my chair impressed.

"Very nice, I doubt that this matters but my speciality was hand to hand combat and making people break. I used to be very manipulative" I say since we were all stating what we were good at.

"Technology and weapons were my specialties. We gave those up a bit after loss of our parents" Sacha adds solemnly.

"Now that we all know about each other, I'll call a ride." RM states so I shoot him a thumbs up.

"Say, what kind of hybrids are you?" Hoseok asks curiously, glancing at our ears

"I'm a black-tailed jackrabbit" Sacha says kindly

"I'm a red Alaskan Malamute!" I declare with a large smile. A honk is heard from outside that signals our ride is here. RM opens the door for us then takes the lead again, opening the car door for us as well. I get in first, plopping on the smooth leather seat, watching my tail of course. Sacha slides in next to me followed by RM and Jin. The other 5 fill the other side and the car moves. The drive was pretty quiet, either this bunch didn't talk much or they didn't want to be rude. The car soon rolls to a halt and the doors open from the outside, we're gestured to exit first so I follow behind Sacha. I stretch out, it wasn't a long ride but those guys have some long ass legs and took up all the room. I smile as I stare at the Kim mansion, many memories and shenanigans happened here. The butler who opened the door guided us to the house and opened the door where we were greeted by the staff. I gasp and my ears perk up when I notice some of the staff from when we were younger. The recognize us too because soon we're in a group hug, them telling us how big we've grown.

"Still a trouble maker my Y/N?" a maid, Hana asks and I nod goofily. She laughs and pats my head, making my tail wag in my jeans. I hear footsteps upstairs and automatically know it's Uncle Kim.

"Well well well, look how big you two are" he boasts, slowly walking down. As he reaches the last step he opens his arms for a hug, Sacha and I going to one side of him.

"I'm so glad to see you again, these boys didn't cause you trouble did they?" Uncle asks, pretending to glare at the group. Sacha giggles and shakes her head.

"I'm glad you're doing well Uncle, but why did you find us just now?" I question and he sighs

"Well, I made a promise to your parents to help you maintain a low profile. I didn't want anyone finding you so I decided it would be best if I helped from the shadows. But when I heard of you jumping in to protect Taehyung, even exposing your ears I knew I had to have you two back. I know it's a rough business but you two learned from the best of the best. I'd only trust you with my boys life" Unlce explains so I side eye Sacha. We have a mini conversation with our eyes and she gives me the subtlest of nods.

"We agree to protect Bangtan Uncle" I state, giving a thumbs up. Uncle chuckles at me before Sacha cuts in.

"Where will be staying?" She asks

"Well, the boys have their own living quarters so it would be with them, in your own rooms of course" he tells us, adding the last part seriously.

"I have some business to attend to though so I'll let you two go pack" uncle adds, giving us another hug before walking back up the stairs. We wave to the staff and head back into the limo, this time I'm squished in between Jimin and Taehyung with Jungkook by his side. Poor Sacha is sandwiched in between wide shouldered Jin and Hoseok. The car pulls forward, exiting the driveway, heading towards our house. The ride was silent once again until Jimim asks a question

"So how old are you two?" looking at us.

"I'm 20 years old while Sacha here is 23" I respond and Jungkook perks up.

"When's your birthday?" He asks, hoping I'm younger.

"It's in July, how about yours?" I reply and he deflates

"Mine is in September" he murmurs, still the baby of the bunch. Tae laughs at him and pokes his cheeks, cooing at the baby. The limo soon comes to a halt meaning we're at the house. We all pile out of the car again but my breath stops as I see the fromt door tore down.

"Oh shit" Sacha mutters, pulling out a handgun from her purse, clicking the safety off. I march up to the house and stomp on the door, ears perked to hear noise...but there's nothing. The living room was in ruins, pictures torn to shreds and their frames smashed, furniture pulled apart, tv bashed in, cups, and plates litter the floor practically in dust form. Food was thrown in the kitchen, it looked like a bunch of 5 year olds got into a food fight. We head to my bedroom first and my heart lurches, it was obliterated. My figurines smashed, electronics crushed, books ripped apart, notebook paper was in tatters, even my clothes were in a destroyed heap in the corner of the room. But the part that truly broke me were my shoes, all of my custom made or limited edition ones were torn apart. All of my Timbs that I spent years collecting, I had to stifle a sob through my rage. Sacha comes up behind me and gives me a hug, my items had a lot of sentimental value so my things destroyed was like ripping out my heart. Jin barely ghosts a hand around me, leading me out of the room so we can check on Sacha's.

I was filed with new rage as nothing of hers was touched, nothing was even out of place. She looks back at me and engulfs me in a hug, I didn't need it but she didn't know what else to do. I wanted to punch something, anything to release this anger so I wouldn't lash out at one of them.

"Shhh, we'll figure out who did this okay? We'll get Kyra to fix your shoes somehow. I'll help you get your book collections back too" she whispers to me, trying to comfort me. I want to yell at her, to scream at the top of my lungs but I couldn't...it wasn't her fault. I give her a stiff nod, pushing out of her hold

"Let's get out of here, Bee get what you need...after that call Dave to torch the place" I order, going back to my room to collect my shoe carcasses. I punch the closet wall, leaving a giant hole, then I punch the other side. It didn't help at all as I stomp back to the limo, not waiting for the others. I sit fuming in my spot, brain churning out the names of my enemies who could have done this. One name keeps surfacing but this person died a few years ago..but cats do have nine lives so maybe he's still around. One by one I hear their footsteps, some hesitant to be in a cramped space with and angry hybrid, who's breed can be aggressive if they wanted to. Sacha sits right next to me, Jin and Hoseok sitting next to her. The others take the seats opposite of us and I sit curled on the seat, staring at the ground. Pretty sure I'd be half way to the earths core if I had laser eyes. Sacha hesitantly raises a hand to scratch my head, trying to so something to help me. I felt slight relaxation but my rage was too strong to subside.

"Do you have a name of anyone who would do this?" Yoongi asks and I nod my head.

"I thought he died a few years ago, but damned cats are known for having nine lives so I wouldn't be surprised if he was alive" I mutter, venom in every single syllable of my sentence.

"No way, it can't be him!" Sacha exclaims and I stare right at her

"Who else would know what to destroy? If it were just some stupid group of thugs they would have taken my shoes, not ripped them to shreds. And they would have taken something from your name brand closet but nothing was touched. This was aimed at me." I retort, trying not to lash out at her with words

"I'm just saying, we saw him die. Are you sure?" She asks, not backing down and I nod once. She lets out a sigh and nods.

"We need to look up Ayden Smith, he's a mountain lion hybrid notorious for causing trouble. He became obsessed with Y/N a few years ago to try and get our money, when his plan failed he lashed out and tried to kill us. But Y/N was furious and they had a full on brawl, Y/N ended up choking him to death, he had no pulse and his neck was practically snapped. But cat hybrids are somehow fast as fuck healers so he probably faked the no pulse thing and went into hiding to recover." Sacha explains, my body goes rigid at the mention of the fight, flashbacks rush through my head that make me want to cry. The limo stops once again and we all pile out, everyone letting me out first. The place was nice, it was hidden in the middle of nowhere, must be pretty convenient. RM unlocks the door and we step inside, I look around at the simple yet stylish decor.

"All of our rooms are on the second floor, there's five on each side. Each one has a bathroom and walk in closet. The kitchen is over there, and we have a training room over there, with an arcade in the basement." RM explains, pointing to each place. Jin leads us to our rooms, Sacha's is right next to mine.

"I'm gonna sit and cool off for a second" I murmur to everyone, not wanting to cause tension. Sacha gives me a solemn nod and I gently close the door. The colors were beautiful, maybe Uncle Kim remembered and has these rooms made for us just in case. I sit on the red silk sheets, running my hands up and down the smooth material. I slip my pants off, fluffy white tail springing out, wagging for freedom. I lay on my back, looking at the ceiling

"I will find you Ayden...and I will kill you, for real this time" I declare to the void and close my eyes.

-Ro~ what'd you think??? I changed my ending because Tumblr glitched on me and I lost my original ending progress ;( I know the boys didn't talk much but they will in other chapters as this was more of an introduction. I do hope you all enjoy and please feel free to give me feedback <3 I'd also like to thank the few who voted <33

[gimmesumsuga]

Just Once - Yoongi/Suga one-shot

Warning: graphic descriptions of drug use and heavy angst. 

Words:  2,733

It was your mother who’d provided you with first taste of heroin.  You were fourteen then and she’d been a junkie for as long as you could remember, a habit left to her by your absentee of a father, and it hadn’t taken long for you to become addicted too.   It was odd, but sharing that nasty had actually served to bring you and your mother closer together. It’d given you a common ground you’d never had before, and it’d taken both of you working together to ensure you got your next fix, working crummy part-time jobs that just about paid the rent and secured  your drug of choice with not much left for anything else.  You wasted away years like that, lost to oblivion, ashamed but unable to find the will the stop.  Take the heroin away and what were you?  A high school dropout with no prospects, no dreams and a bad reputation.  

It was your mother who’d gotten clean first, too.  She’d fallen in love with a man from your local church; a stranger who’d shown her rare kindness and compassion, a better way to live.  With his encouragement, a whole lot of help and her fair share of relapses, she’d finally rid herself of it.  After that, she’d dedicated herself to getting you clean too.  You’d resisted, at first, despite wanting nothing more than to return to that sweet, innocent girl you were once before.   You were so convinced that you’d fail, that you’d only let her down, that it took months for you to even try, and years to actually manage abstain for more than a few months at a time.  

Now, four years on, you’ve been clean for three, and life has never been better.  You’ve got a steady job, and though the pay cheque isn’t the biggest it’s more than enough to make do after so many years of living on nothing.  Your mother is still clean, and married now, too.   You’ve got a small handful of very good friends and  your own  little apartment complete with a sweet, albeit slightly  aloof, feline friend.  The best of it all, though, is your boyfriend; Yoongi.  

You’d met him two years ago as a customer in the restaurant where you work, and soon became friends.  He liked your dry, sarcastic sense of humour, and you liked his grumpy, old man attitude.  Together you made quite the pair, grumbling and griping at one another but knowing there was affection lurking underneath.  Eventually, that affection spilled over into something more and you’d been together ever since, inseparable most of the time.   

It’d taken you a little while to open up to Yoongi about your past and tell him all the sordid little details about that darkest of times.  You were terrified that it’d change the way he saw you or the way he treated you, but if there was one thing you know about Yoongi, it’s that he’s full of surprises.  Behind that distant, slightly cold exterior is a heart warmer than anyone else’s you’ve ever known, someone so loving and compassionate that he’d barely even blinked when you’d spilled it all.  All he’d done was stroke your cheek, telling you how proud he was of you for ridding yourself of those demons, and how you trusting him enough to tell him had only made him love you all the more.  

You’re convinced that you don’t deserve him - not at all - but he seems to think you’re some kind of perfect, always complimenting and praising you.  It’s a stark, unsettling contrast to the years you spent feeling so worthless, to the way you still feel and think about yourself even now.   You know that Yoongi would think the same, too, if he knew how weak you really are, if he knew the way you still long for a hit every single hour of every single day.   

Today is a particularly bad day.  There’s no reason for it; your boss gave you very little hassle, the customers were polite.  Even the weather’s nice, promising a warm summer’s evening for you to spend with Yoongi on your date tonight.  There’s no reason for you to want it, none at all, but God, you do.  It’s like an itch you can’t scratch, a constant craving that’s had you biting at at your pencils and pens all day and forgetting people’s orders, and no matter how you try to fight it you can’t silence that little wayward voice in your head.  It whispers reassurances and lies, telling you that just one hit won’t hurt, that no one would have to know.  And it’s not like just one time would get you addicted again.  People don’t become alcoholics from just one glass of wine, right?  

Before you know it, you’re seeking it out midway through your walk home.  Contrary to popular belief it’s really not that hard to find, especially for someone like you who knows exactly who and what to look for.  It’s not even always the people you’d expect, either, and when you finally spot a likely looking dealer it takes you less than five minutes and even fewer spoken words to score and be on your way again, a little packet of brown powder in one pocket and a syringe and needle in the other.  

It seems to take forever for you to get home after that.  It’d been too easy and now you’re too eager, fiddling with the packet inside your pocket with shaking fingers, biting your lip in anticipation.  You practically run up the stairs of your apartment when you get there,  flinging off your coat as you shut the door and retrieving the paraphernalia as you check the clock.  Yoongi said he’d pick you up at seven; that gives you six hours to get high and come down again.  Plenty of time.  

Grabbing a spoon from the kitchen and a lighter from the drawer you rush into your bedroom, breathing rapidly as you spread it all out on your bedspread and begin the little ritual of preparation.  It comes back to you far too quickly, like it’s been no time at all, and within minutes you’ve melted the powder into a liquid and drawn it up, a pair of your pantyhose tied around your upper arm to get at your veins.  

You’re just about to slide the needle into your arm when your phone vibrates, making you pause with the bevel of the needle poised ready to slide through your paper-thin skin.  You glance over at where it rests on the bedside table to see Yoongi’s name flashing on the screen, and for a moment you almost come to your senses, hesitating for a minute more until your phone goes dark again.  You missed his call, and now it’s just you, the needle, and the brown murky liquid inside which promises such ecstasy.  

No one will ever know.

Just this once.  

A sharp scratch, your finger pressing on the plunger of the syringe and then the warmth of it entering your veins as you exhale.  You place the needle and syringe on the table, untangling the pantyhouse from your arm and managing to sink back into your pillows with a blissful sigh as it hits.  It’s instant euphoria, a feeling of weightlessness that you’d forgotten how much you missed, and once that initial high has gone the drowsiness comes next, your eyes and limbs heavy, your mouth dry.  You vaguely think that you should’ve set an alarm as your eyelids slide closed, sleep pulling you under deep and swift. 

     Yoongi knocks at your door, a small smile on his lips and rocking on his heels as he waits for you to answer.  He knows he looks like a schmuck stood there with a posy in his hand, but he also knows they’re your favourite and he knows the way your face lights up whenever he brings you flowers, so stand there like a schmuck he does.    

After a couple of minutes he starts getting impatient - you’re usually really quick to answer to door, practically throwing yourself into his arms - but tonight he can’t even hear you moving around inside when he leans closer to the door.  He knocks once more but doesn’t give it long before experimentally trying the handle.  It’s unlocked, which is odd in itself, and Yoongi can feel the hairs on the back of his neck starting to rise as he steps into your silent apartment.  He’s not sure what it is but something doesn’t feel right, and when he calls out your name to no reply that feeling only gets stronger.

Yoongi pads through your living room, abandoning your flowers on the coffee table and almost jumping out of his skin when your cat suddenly rubs around his ankles.   Hopefully you’ve just gone out and forgotten to lock your door - that way you won’t have heard the girly way he just screamed.  Still, he’s not sure if it’s just his imagination but he could swear even your tabby looks concerned, eyes wider than usual as she turns her back to him and slinks off towards your bedroom, pausing at the door to cast a glance back at Yoongi before slipping inside.  

Instinctively, he follows, trying to fight the panic he can feel rising in his chest.  Your bedroom is dim when he walks inside, your curtains drawn and the lights off.   Your cat jumps up onto the bed, meowing quietly, and it’s then that he notices the  shape of your body underneath the covers.  Yoongi chuckles, the tension from his shoulders disappearing as relief floods through him.   Of course you’re just napping; you’re always napping, and he has come over earlier than you’d originally both planned. Yoongi sits himself gingerly on the edge of your bed, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing gently, calling your name.

“Wake up, sleepy head.”  He keeps his voice soft and playful, jiggling you a little more as you fail to respond, smiling down at your sleeping face.  “Time to wake up.”   Again, he gives you a little shake - one that gradually gets harder and more urgent the longer you say nothing.  Your eyelids don’t even twitch, not even when he touches your face, brushing his thumb across your cheek.  In fact, now that he looks closer… are you even breathing?  

Fear’s gripping his chest so tight that Yoongi can barely shout your name as he yanks back the covers, his voice coming out tight and strained.  He grabs at each of your limbs, climbing onto the bed and shaking you as he kneels beside you, brushing your cat out of the way.    

“Wake up, c’mon,” he growls through gritted teeth, taking hold of your chin and turning your head from the side to the ceiling to frantically scan for any signs of life, but when he lets go your head just lolls to the side again, your beautiful hair falling across your face.   His fingers fumble at your neck, groping around to try and find your pulse, his own thundering in his ears, so loud that it’s almost deafening.  Eventually he finds it, and when he does he has to choke back a sob.   

You’re alive, thank god you’re still alive, but by the thready feel of your pulse under Yoongi’s fingertips he’s not sure it’s for long.  It’s so slow and weak, your breathing just as slow and shallow - you need an ambulance, and you need it now.  He gropes for his phone in his pockets and then curses when he realises he left it in the car, both of his hands raking through his hair as his eyes scan your room to finally land on your phone where it lies on the bedside table.  

Yoongi makes a grab for it, hands shaking, already dialling when he notices what else was sat surrounding your phone before he so hastily snatched it up.   A spoon, a needle, a syringe, and a packet holding the remnants of a brown powder he doesn’t recognise.   Oh, he can guess what it is though, he knows all too well.  

“I think… I think my girlfriend has taken an overdose,” he states to the operator, gazing down at you and taking your hand in his.  His voice is suddenly entirely emotionless, as though he’s in a daze, momentarily detached from the situation.  Your skin… it’s so clammy.  

“Heroin.”  

The operator asks him a series of questions which he manages to answer even though he’s only half listening, his eyes fixed on your chest, obsessed with watching the shallow rise and fall of your chest.  It’s stupid, but Yoongi feels like if lets his gaze shift even for a second the next time he looks it won’t move at all, and that sends a chill down his spine so potent that it freezes his insides, making him physically shudder.   

The kind, softly spoken woman on the end of the line tells him to stay with you - as if he’d go anywhere else - and that an ambulance is only minutes away from the address he’d croaked out.   She asks him to stay on the phone, too, just in case anything changes, and though Yoongi keeps the line open he places the it back on the table so that he’s free to touch you with both his hands.  He rolls you onto your back and lies himself down next to you, placing his head on your chest  as he repeats your name again at again, the dull thud of your heartbeat in his ear the only thing keeping him from keeping him from breaking down completely.  

Or so he thought.  On the other end of the phone the operator hears a man begin to sob, and lying there at your side Yoongi’s whole body begins to heave; great, wracking cries ripping through him as he clutches at your body.  He wraps you up in his arms as he has so many times before, his tears soaking through your shirt and turning it transparent, begging you to wake up so many times that his throat becomes hoarse.  

“You can’t,” he tells you fiercely, clutching the fabric of your pants in his fist and roughly tugging at it, punctuating every word.  “You can’t leave me, you can’t, please.”   Yoongi presses his face into you, inhaling your scent and filling his lungs till he can no longer, a broken wail falling from his lips to be smothered by the soft swell of your stomach.  

“I can’t do this without you, baby… I just… I can’t.”

“Please… you can’t leave me here all on my own.”  

“Nothing makes any sense without you.”

“Just… don’t.  I need you.”

“I love you.  Please.”

“Please, baby.”   

When the ambulance crew mercifully arrives, only minutes later, it’s to a harrowing sight.   A girl lying prone on her bed, pale and barely breathing, limbs limp and unresponsive - a boy curled around her sobbing his heart out, rocking the both of them as he pleads over and over for anyone, someone to listen and not to take her away.   They almost have to wrestle you from Yoongi’s arms, so desperate is he not to be separated from you, uncaring that so many strangers are witnessing him cry and scream, tearing at his hair.  

One of them stays with him as they wheel you into the ambulance, standing together on the pavement watching on as you disappear inside, an oxygen mask covering your pretty face.   It’s silent tears that streak Yoongi’s pale face now, an unfamiliar man’s arm placed comfortingly around his shoulder.  The sirens start and then they’re speeding away, taking you with them, and Yoongi can no longer watch.  He closes his eyes, pressing his lips together as he says a silent prayer that that won’t be the last memory he ever has of holding you in his arms.   

He gives himself barely a minute before climbing into his own car and starting the engine, roughly wiping his tears on the sleeve of his jacket and taking hold of the steering wheel, clenching his jaw. Yoongi makes himself a silent promise as he chases after you through the busy streets, driving way too fast but barely hearing the protesting car horns around him.  

Where you go, he’ll follow; whether it be hospital, rehab or something more lasting, more permanent… as long as he’s by your side.

Where you go, he’ll follow.  

Gifs are not mine - credit to owners.