#ALL BUILT UP TENSION LIKE I WAS LAYING BACK BUT IMMEDIATELY SAT UP STRAIGHT ONCE I COULD SEE WHAT THIS WAS BUILDING UP TO

[every1woo]

okay wait so bcs im on my laptop and copy paste in tumblr tags on desktop are weird all the tags are weirdly out of order so very sorry for the confusion... hopefully it still makes some sense but here are post thoughts :D

update: fixed it but had to cut some tags on that last post out 😢 and just fixed these ones too 😁

𝒯𝑂: 𝑆𝑂𝑀𝐸𝑂𝑁𝐸 𝐹𝑅𝑂𝑀 𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑀 𝐶𝐿𝐼𝑀𝐴𝑇𝐸 ༉

𝓘N THIS STORY 〃 a life lived as a human among the fae is one hard-earned. the folk are built of indescribable beauty, and of debauchery and mischief. for some, a life lived subservient to the folk is just fine; but to those who dream of something more, they would spend their lives clawing and biting to make it happen.

you, looking for a way to escape a life as a faerie’s human servant, put a new foot forward thinking that any life could be better than that. but, when your first assignment as a king’s spy is alongside a brooding, icy faerie man, you begin to wonder what your place in this foreign world really could be.

wc ➳ 20.2k

pairings faerie!taehyun x human!reader, faerie!yeonjun x human!reader

warnings angst, heated kissing, violence, blood, jealousy jealousy jealousy, controlling and obsessive behavior, a bit of a gross nightmare, magic spell places over a human, a bit of traditional values, i think that’s all…

playlists ⑊ yeonjun ˒ taehyun ˒ series

…🪶 ashlynn's note guys. really. that’s all i have to say. i love u and once again if u see a typo or like whack sentence…… no you didn’t. also my back hurts help

← ⑊ →

You’ve come to a thought, in all your aimless idling about the estate. Running your fingers over the surface of all the things you’ve done and the decisions you’d made leading you into this reality, you’ve been caught on one particularly worrisome divot: the geas. 

They hadn’t exactly given you a time frame, but you surmise that you’re quickly approaching the limit. You've entertained the fantasy that they’ll just consider the both of you dead, but it’s just that: fantasy. You know it’s a ridiculous thought. There’s a plethora of things that they might first assume before coming to the conclusion that you’ve met your ends. Though the geas’ workings are a bit elusive to you, you can imagine that all it would take is a tug to check whether or not you’re alive. So, if you ever really wanted to call this place home, you’ve got to do away with it. You’ve got to. Otherwise, all your wagering to stay here would be in terrible vain. You imagine how much of a fool you already look to Taehyun, considering your entanglement with the prince, and how he’d warned you repeatedly. It’s not your fault that he decided to stay here along with you, but you feel nauseous imagining your own mistakes getting the both of you killed.  

Embroidering whorling designs on the hems of your coverlets or sweating away your energy with practicing blocks and parries, you’d also let your mind wander off to fill the silence. It was then that you’d remembered what Beomgyu had offered you in his attempts at luring you. I could dissolve that geas for you.  

You sit, legs spread out ahead of you, in the little spot that you’ve found yourself frequenting these days: pressed against the side of your wardrobe, just enough room for your feet to brush against the wood framing of your bed without having to bend your knees. Taehyun has recently been bringing an influx of faeries to work the estate—all indebted to him or his father. Or, well, that’s what he tells you, anyway. You choose to believe him, but still, you wonder about the circumstances of those debts. The brownie assigned to your care, named Conifer, is long-limbed with bark for skin that crawls up from her spindly fingers and toes, just to end at her shins and fore-arm, and insists on bathing you and preparing your clothes each day. When you refuse her, she loiters around the doorway anxiously watching you prepare yourself with her watery black eyes until you decide to make her life just a bit easier and allow her to do her work. You don’t exactly adore the scrape of her sharp fingers on your scalp while she does your tresses up, though. Their presence reminds you of the servants you’d see running around Yeonjun’s place.  

In this corner, you avoid them. It’s a nice spot to betray your own resolution; his letters are only a grab of the handles away. You try not to, but you read them. Often. When your memories really get kicking, when you’re sickened by twinkling, desperate eyes looking up to you from the ground, you read them.  

“You look sorry.” Beomgyu settles opposite from you, his back against your bed. 

Scoffing at him, you pull yourself out of a slouch. “Oh, wow. Thank you. You have a way with words,” you quip, hiding the letters you’d fished out indulgently away behind you. 

He furrows his brows. “I meant it.” 

You drag in some air and release it slow. “I know. I’m sure I do.” 

He points at you with the hand he has rested on his knee. “Does it have something to do with the letters?” 

You hadn’t hidden them fast enough. Shame crawls a warm red path over your cheeks and ears. Nobody has made any comments at you for your longing, but it feels pitiful to be doing so. You shake your head. “No. I was just... thinking. About something you said when we first met.” 

Strong brows shoot up over lazed eyes. “I think I said many things,” he says, “you’ll have to tell me.” 

“That you could dissolve my geas,” you say, fiddling with your fingers. 

His eyes consider you. “It bothers you.” 

“It does,” you say. “It was a mistake. I should’ve refused it.” Hope flutters in your chest like a dead weight. You shun it away before reality can rip it out for you. 

Deadpanned, and not particularly delicately, he tells you, “I cannot break it.”  

Nodding, you wilt. It’s what you were expecting, anyway. That would be too easy. "Why not? You said it yourself that you could.” 

“A geas is a type of magic cut from the fabric of a promise. It’ll exist until the faerie that placed it over you chooses to revoke it. I couldn’t reach in and cut the line like I would another sort of enchantment.” He presses his mouth into a line. “I was under the impression that you were brought up here. Hadn’t you known that a promise is binding?” 

 Wincing, you answer, “Yeah. I did.” And yet, you made it. It was perhaps the biggest mistake you’ve made in your entire life. You now understand Taehyun’s aversion when he first made his appearance at the den. You were too tunnel-visioned to really listened to him, then. You run your hands furiously through your hair. “Still... you said you could. How did you say that, if it was a lie?” 

A wicked smile cracks over his lips—one that looks as though he’s sharing a joke that only the both of you might understand, but you’re far from being in on it with him. “A bit late to be learning how our kind play, I believe. I was able to say that because I made myself think it true. It is not plain, and it is not fair, but it’s what it is.” 

“That makes no sense,” you say, shaking your head. “You can’t believe something is true over what you already know is the truth. You’d have to acknowledge the other thing’s truth to do that.” 

He grimaces. “That you believe that is why you’ve found yourself here. It’s paradoxical, maybe, but we’re good at that. Loopholes exist where you look hard enough for them. If you don’t intend to get caught up, you just never accept a Faerie deal, there’s no other way to it.” 

Running fingers over the grooves in the wood of the floor, you say, “I suppose I shouldn’t ask you to work up an enchantment that might counteract it, then.” 

“Perhaps I could,” he says. 

Perked up and mouth dropped open, you’re ready to ask him a waterfall of questions. He cuts in before you can even start. “It wouldn’t rid you of the original magic, and I can make no promises to you that it’d be watertight.” 

“I’ll take anything,” you say. With narrowed eyes, you add, “After that whole speech about finding loopholes to lie, and to never trust faerie magic, though...” 

He frowns at you. “I see how it is.” 

“What? I mean, you said it a few seconds ago. I think getting tripped up into another Faerie trick, like, literally seconds after you warned me about them would be a bit ironic.” 

“We’re no longer friendly,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You laugh. Him considering you friends is news to you. The word is delicious. You want to say it more. “Oh, please. We’re only friends when it benefits you. How can I be so sure you aren’t tricking me?” 

“Now, we’re really not friendly.” 

A laugh bubbles past your lips once again, and you crawl over to him to try and make amends. “You’re the one who said it.” 

He turns his face from you. “Spare me.” 

“Seriously though, do you mean it? That you’d help me?” you ask. The proposition is too shiny to not consider. 

“It’s not as if I could harm you in any way,” he tells you, dropping the theatrics. “I think I’d like something in return for it, though.” 

You frown. Of course, in Faerie, there are no favors. “What would you want?” 

The kelpie’s eyes roam over your room for a moment, but it’s mostly for show, because his eyes come back on you with intent. He lifts his head at you in a pointing gesture. “Those letters,” he says.  

Frown deepening, you sit back. “The letters?” you say, trying to rein in your face. You don’t want him to see how awfully you want to cling to them. Having them is inconsequential when stood beside dealing with the geas, but still... “The ones from Yeonjun?” 

Eyes dancing with interest, he nods. “Those.” 

You pull them from behind you. They look a lot less pretty now, envelopes dented with your touches. You can’t see why he’d have any interest in them; they weren’t even for him. “Why?” you ask him. “They’re just letters.” 

Beomgyu nod his head in acknowledgment. “They are,” he says. “So why do they bother you as they do?” 

Pausing, you consider his words. Why do they? Yeonjun is a liar. You weren’t special—just a mission to him. You should hate him; seeing those letters full of flowery words and proclamations of love should anger you. And they do, they do anger you, but that doesn’t stop you from reading them. You’re not sure what you’re searching for in them. Closure? Proof of his lies? Or, excuses? 

Beomgyu has no interest in the letters. It’s his way of telling you that you need to grow a spine. You suppose it’s about time that you do just that. 

“Here.” You push them off into his hands. “You’ll do it, then?” 

The corners of his lips turn up. “Maybe...” 

You hiss and reach for your letters, but he tugs them toward himself and holds them safe out of your reach. 

“Give those back, you prick,” you say. “You don’t get them for free. It’s called a deal. You said you’d help me.” 

With his eyes dancing with wild mischievous intent, he pretends to think. “Did I?” 

You land a smack on his upper arm, groaning when it only sends his face more viciously taunting. That playing glint in his eyes is welcomed, though. At least you know he’s only playing. Otherwise, you might be more worried that he is genuinely screwing you over. “Stop playing tricks,” you say, furled out from gritted teeth. “You know you did. This is what got you here in the first place, idiot. I’m being serious.” 

His lip curls, and he relents. “Do not remind me.” 

“Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time?” you say, sending eyes with dagger points his way. “C’mon. Magic.” 

Looking kicked, he grabs your hand. It sends you back to the day you’d gotten that awful geas and the way Cricket had done the same thing. You’re going to fix that mistake. 

“I was just having my fun. I suffer a terrible drought of it here.” 

Your skin tickles, and you know he’s working on it. Heart doing nervous laps, you say, “Well, look whose roof we live under. It’s no wonder.” 

He likes that, wicked delight crackling over his features in just the same way his magic crackles through your veins. It’s a far cry from the last time you’d felt a sensation like this. It feels as though a beast of the wild is crashing through your bones like they’re hollow. It’s untamed, but you know just by the thrumming of it that his magic is much more refined and ancient than the geas’. Its claws brush up against your very core.  

You try and blink away the daze, deciding to distract yourself away from it with speech. “You know, I was thinking.” 

He raises his eyebrows, listening. His magic doesn’t falter as he offers you his attention; no need for his concentration. Not when he’s had centuries to become intimately familiar with it.  

“That maybe Yeonjun is a gancanagh,” you continue.  

A gancanagh—sugar-mouthed faeries with the power to send those around them enamored with them with only as much as their words. They’re better known for their other, and in your opinion more fitting, name: love-talker. You’d been so taken by Yeonjun, so weakened by him. The idea that perhaps it was all to the effect of some magic... You’re not sure whether it consoles you or makes it hurt more. Then again, it could also just be you trying to justify the mistakes you’d made. Your mind bends and twists around the thought, maybe the magic. Or, maybe, frustration. 

“A gancanagh,” he says. Beomgyu considers the notion for a moment, but still works his magic through you. “I’m not sure.” 

Not sure? You press the issue. “How are you not sure whether or not the prince is a gancanagh? I know you stay in your forest, but I imagine that you’d know that.” 

“Hmm.” He turns your arm as if trying for a new angle. “I believe that the prince’s mother is one of the sorrier kinds that the High King takes. He has his Ladies, and he has his courtesans. It seems that he was not so proud of her, since her name never reached my lands.” 

A bout of nausea rolls over your skull. His magic is so potent. The tidbit of information is enough to have you perking up despite it. “You think that his mother is a courtesan?” 

“Well, I know she is not a favored Lady. I know nothing of her. She could be gancanagh, or she could be any other thing.” He shoots you a pointed look. “I’m curious as to why you ask.” 

Skin clammy, you wipe at your cheek. “How long does this take?” you ask. 

“As long as I make it take,” he says, tilting his head off to one side. “Why are you worried of the prince’s heritage?” 

You know he’s fishing answers out of you. Shrugging, you tell him, “It was a genuine thought.” 

Nausea and buzzing subside as he releases your arm. “The King has many children. Only some were really considered for their father’s throne, though. I know that the young prince was never one of them. I suggest thinking on that.” 

You blow out a shuddering breath, controlled and small, to compose yourself under the weight of this new magic. “That’s it?” you ask, brushing some hair away from your face. “What did you do?” 

“Mostly, blocked.” 

“Elaborate,” you say, running fingers over your skin as if you might feel the magic there. 

Taken with amusement, he answers, “If the one who placed the geas there tries and play that card, they’ll find the pathways blocked.” He slumps back onto your bed. “It does not mean that the original magic is gone. It is still very much there. Just... hindered.” 

Your head swims. It’s not gone, but this... You know that your sleep will come to you easier now. Maybe it’s not foolproof, but this is much better. Much. 

“No more deals,” he tells you. “You’ve only got so much of yourself. Each time you fill yourself up with our magic, you lose that space. You will never be whole again, but you ought to savor what you’ve got left. You can only make the best of it.” His mud brown eyes are not joking, now. 

Blinking, you fumble out a nod. 

You’ll never be whole again. You hope that’s more a clever wording than the truth, but with the chill that grips your belly and brushes over the overfilled parts of you, you fear you can’t help but believe it. 

❆

You hate it. 

Drowning in it—you hate it. You hate the scarlet red of it, you hate the sticky spray of it on your skin, hate the cries of agony that follow its ceremony, and the feel of its blazing warmth fresh from the body. You’re choking. Swimming up with thrashing arms, it’s so thick that you make no way.  

The liquidity turns to sturdy arms. They cage you, grab your heart and twist, point daggers at your chest and they whisper words in your ears that you don’t want to remember. Your place is in the dirt, they say. You are nothing. A boot in your neck chokes you. You want to scream and cry that you are good, that you didn’t want to hurt them, that you’ll just mind your place if they take their boot off from your neck, but you can’t. You have no voice. 

The metallic tang of the blood follows you, even as you find yourself standing in Court. It stains the muddy floor a wretched color. A thousand eyes blaze on your skin.

You feel them looking at you. You want them to stop, but they laugh and laugh. Yeonjun joins them, looking up at you with vile mock.

“You think I’d beg for you?” he sneers. His sweet voice is warped and twisted into something ugly and mean that grates at your ears and heart. His laugh echoes, and then you’re looking up at him as he hovers over you. “You don’t deserve my begging. I hate you.”

Metal burns your nose, and when you look between the two of you, he’s bleeding from the stomach—from the dagger you’d plunged there. He looks up at you, livid eyes piercing you. “Look. Look what you did. You killed me.”

You shake your head frantically, going to hold his face. You try to tell him no, no you didn’t—you didn’t kill him, but still—

Shooting up, you grasp for breaths and clutch at the bedding. Heart thudding in your chest, you find Taehyun stood in your doorway, looking dragged from sleep. 

You adjust your sleep gown, disheveled with sleep and ridden up your thighs. Still piecing together consciousness, you croak out a, “Huh?” 

There, tickling at the back of your mind, you still smell blood. 

“I thought something was wrong,” he says, taking in the room with a thorough sweep. “You sounded...” Taehyun starts, but does not finish. “Since you’re doing fine, I’ll leave you to sleep.” 

“Stay?” you blurt, before he can turn and leave you here. Your voice comes out thinner and more fragile than you’d meant it to.  

Brows shooting up, Taehyun is hesitant to step into the room. “It’s probably hours before sunrise,” he says. “You don’t want to fall back asleep?” 

You shake your head. No, you don’t. If you do, then you’ll be back to drowning. You might not even be able to fall asleep at this point. The taste lingers. You’re still panting a little when you say, “I don’t want to bother you, but... Please.” 

Taehyun relents apprehensively, stopping just before the end of your bed. Moonlight blooms over his face from the window. It makes a show of his sharp cheek and jaw lines and emphasizes the feathering of his jaw around a hard swallow. “You were having a bad dream,” he says, an observation rather than a question. “About what?” 

Him standing over you like that; it doesn’t feel so easy to tell him that you’re haunted by what you’ve done. You wince at him and send a gesture up. “You don’t have to stand there. You can sit here.” You pat at the opposite end of your bed. 

He flexes one hand, a rare anxious gesture from him. “I wouldn’t just invite myself into a lady’s bed.” 

Well, he didn’t have to put it like that. 

You say, “I’m inviting you to sit down next to me, Taehyun...” 

It’s a few moments before he does, bed dipping beneath him. Like this, it feels much less like an interrogation. Insects buzz outside, singing their song to the stars and mercifully filling up the moment that you take to pluck up composure. He watches you, but doesn’t say anything. He waits. 

Catching a few strands of your scattered thoughts, you say, “Do you get nightmares sometimes? About the people you’ve killed?” It’s blunt and not much, but it’s all you have in you. It’s a thought that has served as a thorn in your side for quite a while now, too. Is it only you who’s had a prison made of their own mind? 

 Will it ever go away? 

Resolutely, he shakes his head. “No. I don’t.” 

“Oh.” You hold yourself a little harder, as if the chill that passes over you is a draft from the window and not bitter dread. “How? How can you not be bothered by it? They’re dead, and they’ll never be coming back. They had as many thoughts and wants as we did. They had mothers that might weep to know they’re gone. I can’t... I don’t stop thinking of them.” 

“It’s a bit too late for me to start feeling sorry for it,” Taehyun says. “You can’t let it rule you. Not everybody is good, and they were not. If they try to hurt you, you hurt them first. If they lay their hands on you, you cut them off.” 

You grow tense as he explains, eyes so heavy that you can practically feel the dark hollows beneath them. “Not even when you hurt someone for the first time? It didn’t bother you then?” 

He eyes you. The pine smell of him so close to you is both familiar and a distant memory. “I saw blood too early for it to ever haunt me.” 

Turning finally, you find his eyes. “I feel so guilty.” Your body buzzes with the need to curl into him, to have him comfort you for it, but you know that he won’t receive it the way you want him to. The way Yeonjun had.  

But you need it. You need it so bad right now. 

“That won’t absolve it. Guilt will not raise them from the dead,” he says. It’s forthright, but he doesn’t mean it to disconcert you. “You’re tearing yourself up inside, but there’s justice in protecting yourself.” 

Swallowing around tension, you nod. He’s right; you had every right to kill those times. You’ve known that the whole time. So, why does it still visit you in the deep hours of the night? You chant his words in your head, as if to beat them into your skull. If you try hard enough, you will. 

“What happens?” he asks, when the both of you have been quiet for too long. It’s strange to see him making attempts to fill silence. “In the dreams, what happens?” 

Shifting into a cozier position, you lean into the headboard by your shoulder. Some of the adrenaline has worked itself away, but remembering it is still bitter.  

You don’t miss the flickering of his eyes over the expanse of your thigh. You might’ve explained it away as a quick glance if that... look had not passed over his face. Restraint—darting eyes and his throat bobbing. It seems that his concern about being in your bed was about more than just propriety. 

“Mostly, blood.” You make a distraction out of the hemming of your blanket, pinching and picking at it. “So much of it. Sometimes the dreams are different, but... it’s always the common theme.” 

Acknowledging that, he dips his head in a slow, shallow nod. “We’ll start training you on the bow, then.” 

“The bow?” you ask.

“I think that the long range will be better for you,” Taehyun elaborates.

You drink his face in once more. In it, you see him reaching out a hand—it’s shaky and awkward and untrained. But under all that, you see that he’s trying. In the silver moonlight, the bow does not look so bad.

Taehyun doesn’t leave you until dawn cracks through the windows.

❆

You wish that you had your gloves. It’s freezing today—wind whipping your hair and teeth chattering even through your extensive layering. You have, like, two pairs of woolen stockings on. But Taehyun said that you’ll need to be able to grip the bowstring good, and so you abandoned them when you’d dragged all this on. 

He’d made good on his word. Now, you’re out in some shallow neck of the woods, and he’s pointing out the trees that you’re supposed to be using for targets. They’re obscured in the onslaught of snowy haze. You want to gripe that he’d picked the worst day to drag you out here, but really, you know it was a fully intentional choice. 

“No bullseye for now, just try and hit them wherever you can manage.” Taehyun makes a gesture up at the array of trees. “Don’t forget that the wind is blowing west. You’ll have to adjust for that.” 

He watches you take up an arrow, quiet as you clumsily wiggle it around until it sits in a spot that feels relatively correct. 

“Higher,” he finally says. “Find the rest for the arrow, and then you’ll find the nocking point on the string.” 

You fumble with the placement some more, freezing fingers not as agile as they could be. Just as he said, the arrow falls into a place where it sits comfortably. “This?” 

He hums, voice closer. “That’s good. Now, you lift it just like that. Don’t lose that hold, and pinch the back of the arrow, behind the feathers, with your knuckles.” 

Raising the bow, you’re so concentrated on keeping the arrow in place that it shocks you how hard it is to pull the bowstring. The further back you pull it, the more force it demands from you. You only manage to bring it halfway before you stop. “Woah.” 

Wind stops brushing your cheeks and hair so hard, and Taehyun’s voice comes from right beside you this time. “Harder than you thought it’d be, huh?” he says, smirk in his voice matching the one you find on his mouth when you turn to look at him. “It’s going to be hard for a while. You’ve got to build up the muscle for it. For now, you just have to power through it.” 

You try again, finding the spot where your muscles protest and then going beyond it. Your arms tremble, some spot in the middle of your chest aching with it. You sift through the trees, rushing to find one to release the arrow on before you can no longer maintain the hold. 

“Stand straighter.” He reaches over to adjust your arm, pulling the string-wielding one even further back and forcing your chest further open. Your arms burn. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold like this. 

“Hurry,” you say. 

“Go ahead.” 

Deciding on the nearest tree, you let the string go from between aching fingertips. It misses and passes the tree to land somewhere in the foliage behind it, but not as awfully as you’d expected. Hissing, you shake out your arms and stretch your shoulders to try and kill the burn, but it lingers. “You made that look a lot easier than it really is,” you tell him. 

“My first shot looked a lot like that,” he says, leaned back into a tree. “That was a great first try. I should’ve had you on the bow earlier.” He motions to the bow. “Show me another one.” 

Arms still ringing, you sloppily repeat. None of the arrows meet their mark, and you get worse with each. You’d done so well with the first one, though. Frustration sparks in your chest, catching into a flame when this one misses as well. The cramping in your shoulders and the gnawing of frost at your fingers do not help your temper. “Guess that was beginner’s luck,” you say, jaw tense. “I can’t shoot for shit, now.” 

Pushing himself off the tree, Taehyun approaches you once more and says, “It helps if you breathe out before letting the arrow go, but it’s mostly that your arms are tired. Today isn’t about aim, it’s about repetition.” Now in front of you, his eyes dart down to your mouth, but it’s a split-second look. You’d have missed it with a blink. You want to ask him why he keeps looking at you like that—like how he had in your bed that one night. You don’t want to make the air awkward, though.  

To be more honest with yourself, you’re afraid to ask. You’re afraid what the answer might be; you have don’t even have the foggiest clue. “Maybe we should go back. I’ll just stick with what I know.” 

“So, you’ll just give it up when it gets hard?” he says, a little ticked off. A muscle in his jaw feathers.  

You wonder what he’s thinking, beyond just what he’s saying. What he feels beyond what he’ll let you see. The reason that Taehyun dropped the spy life the moment you’d told him you’d stay here with Yeonjun is still just as elusive to you. You’re no fool—you’d seen the look that passed over his face when you had. It had brought a chill down your spine, something hollow but also desperate. Taehyun does not seem like the type taken to puppy love. He does not seem like the type to follow whims, either. So, what is this? You’re unsure what to make of it, and what to make of him.

You two had been snapping teeth and blazing arguments, but what lays beneath that? Why does the impenetrable man let you get under his skin the way he does? 

“Yes,” you say, just to ruffle some feathers. “I’ll just keep working on swordplay.” 

He catches the bait. “Then, what are we out here for? I thought close combat was bothering you.” Flakes of fluffy snow sit on his hair, white petals against black. “And, it doesn’t hurt to diversify your skillset. Not with a war looming.” 

Frustration gives way to softness. Taehyun doesn’t have to be out here. He has no obligations to help you with your ridiculous, pitiful dreams. You’re thankful for it, no matter how rugged he comes across while doing it. “I’m just messing with you. You make it too easy,” you say, offering him a smile. Beneath it, you’re left reeling with the reminder about the war. In your choosing to omit it from your thoughts, you’d just about forgotten about it. Anxiety comes crashing back through the crumbling dam. By now, the King has absolutely realized that Yeonjun is not coming back. Does he think that the north has hurt him or holds him hostage? He might start the war himself, then. A thought dawns upon you. That might’ve been the intention all along—to have him start things, to remain faultless. Taehyun had said that the Queen is a scheming sovereign. 

“War,” you say, licking over chapped lips. “Do you think it’ll really happen? That it’ll come to battles?” You can’t help worrying. You’ve chosen your side in staying here. What if that was the wrong choice? What if your betrayal comes around to bite you? Or, what if the north’s reputation for brutality ends up doing the job before it ever can? You feel surrounded by death—surrounded by walls of violence, where too far in one direction would be your end. “It’s not as if I’ll be fighting, though.” 

Face solemn, he says, “Let’s start heading back.” 

That draws no complaints from you, tucking fingers under your arms to try and save them. He hadn’t answered your question, though. “Taehyun?” 

Brittle leaves and brush crunch underfoot. “It’s coming.” 

Narrowing your eyes at him, tensed in the shoulders, you ask, “Why are you acting like that? Are you hiding something from me?” 

The both of you pause to let a dryad scurry off, snow falling off its bark skin in chunks as it crashes through the forest and away from you. These woods are a lot fuller than the ones you’d found Beomgyu in. 

“Taehyun,” you repeat. Your stomach is sick. Skin burning, you get flashes of memories—of Yeonjun’s guilty eyes that night. It rushes through your bloodstream like icy water. This feels like an overreaction, but your body does not align with your stuttering heart. You can’t tamp it down. “What is it? I don’t like secrets.” Your voice comes out fragile, like it’ll break in the frigid air like ice and fall down to the ground in a crash. 

His face is hard. You don’t like that, either. 

“You’re not going to be fighting, but I know what is planned. It’s messy; messy and dirty. And dirty wars are not afraid of collateral damage.” 

Frowning, you ask, “How do you know what’s planned?” 

“It’s a general’s job to know the war he leads his army into.” 

You stop dead. “Are you serious?” you snap, voice on a tight leash. “Seriously, Taehyun?” He keeps walking, forcing you to tear your feet from their spot to follow him. Jogging to match his stride, you say, “So, you’re just going to take up his will? You’re going to lead a war, like him? What about me, Taehyun? What happens to me?”  

It seems that he’s fully taken over his role as heir to his father and his estate, but why? Why, if he sheared off his own ears to escape that legacy? Taehyun’s moral code has exceptions for violence, but he said it himself—he doesn’t like senseless killing. Not like what would come with taking on this role.  

“Being general secures me a seat while they discuss their plans. It means I have sway in what happens. This is not for my enjoyment, or for power, like how my father saw it,” he says, measured and steady. “You’ve not seen a Faerie war. They’re given to dramatics, and they span... they span long. If something is going to happen, it’s better off that I’m in the room that they discuss it. Otherwise, we’re just sitting here and crossing out fingers that we don’t get caught in the crossfire.” Head held high, he adds, “This is my duty.” 

Anxiety warms your frozen bones. “Duty?” you say through a caustic laugh. “You’ll be going to war, Taehyun.” 

“Not petty battles. If something more drastic happens, I suppose I would, but being a foot soldier is not my role in this. Maybe my father would’ve, just to see the blood and carnage, but not me,” he says, as if that makes it any better. 

“I don’t like this.” 

“They know we were here as spies. They could decide at any moment to kill us. As general, my position would protect us.” He levels you a stare, hard. “You decided to stay here for him, so this is what I have to do.” 

A terrible sickness settles in your stomach with his words. These are the consequences to your actions, for your overenthusiasm, but you feel more like a burden than sorry for yourself.  

You want to tell him to stop paying the prices; that it’s not his job, but a chilly breeze sings in your ears that it’s much too late for that.  

  ❆

Biting back complaints and the prickling of tears, you let Conifer work on your hair. She’s merciless with the tugs and pins, fingers threading through strands to tug them up into the frilly and loose updo.�� 

“Why do I need to be dressed?” you ask her, watching her work dutifully behind you through the mirror. 

“My Lady,” she says around a pin she holds in between her lips. “One moment.” 

“You don’t have to call me Lady, or anything,” you tell her, wincing at the sound of it. “I’m no more a Lady than you.” She’d come into your room, nervously plucking at the pine needles on her forearms as she informed you that she needed to get you prettied up. It’s random, but you’d perked up immediately. It’s been so long since you’ve done anything—so long since you had a reason to look pretty and drag on glittering dresses. Not doing the work yourself is strange, though. You wonder if this is what your life would’ve been with Yeonjun, with servants waiting at every corner to pamper you and make sure that your hands never again see any type of hard work.  

You shake those thoughts away. That’s not your life here in Taehyun’s estate. It does you no use comparing. You’re not so used to this, anyway. It gets under your skin a bit, though you know they’re working off debts in his service.  

“Oh, the Lord would prefer that I do,” she says. A sharp pin scrapes up against your scalp as she pushes it in, securing up a willowy tress. All Yeonjun’s gifts—the dress she’d laid out for you, and the jewels she garnishes you in. How strange is it to have Taehyun’s servants dressing you in Yeonjun’s things? You still don’t know why he even bothered with bringing them in. You all were managing before. It's not as if any of you are the type to demand being waited on, anyway. You all have lived in more humble means. Beomgyu literally comes from the forest. And, why would it even matter how she addresses you to Taehyun? 

It wouldn’t be fair of you to demand her to call you otherwise, then. You nod. “I’m sorry you have to work for me.” 

“Oh, it’s no bother, dear. I’m grateful that the Lord has chosen such a way for me to pay him for my debt.” She tugs a few tendrils loose. It looks now more like the style is worn in by a good night spent dancing and laughing than freshly combed up. “There are worse ways to do so.” 

That’s right. For her, servitude is only a result of some extrenuating circumstance. Your servitude was nowhere near your fault. That’s where the difference lies; why she can be so blithe about it. 

“What happened?” you ask. It’s an invasive question, sure, but you prefer to ask it straight. No buttering it up or smoothing over words. 

“The late General spared my life on a whim. I’d worked this estate for years, even watched the boy grow into his manhood, until the General passed and the young Lord went disappearing. No reason to work an empty estate. And now, by bloodline, my debt is owed to him.” 

You frown. Serving under Taehyun’s father, only because he decided out of the kindness of his heart to not murder you, sounds harrowing.  

“But, that’s of no importance, dear. The Lord is expecting you; the Queen holds council soon.” Hastily, Conifer slides one last pin in, just for safe measure. “It’s terribly important that you maintain good manners, dear. Stay by the Lord, and do not speak unless they speak to you.” 

Council? He’s expecting you to come with him to a war council? You pause, but she ushers you up and away. 

Bounding down the stairs in a flurry of feet, you hold your skirts in a death grip, heart clenching with nerves. Once, you’d been a mirror to this—panicking over attending Court for the first time. That was nothing. If you had been oblivious to Court propriety, sitting in on a Faerie council in the presence of the Queen and her entourage... You’re screwed. So, so screwed. 

Taehyun waits beside the blackthorn tree. Noticing you, he greets, “Ready?” 

“You’re serious about this?” you say. It’s hard to speak around the lump in your throat. “Why do I have to come? It seems more like a risk than anything.” 

Brows furrowed, he adjusts his tunic. “You’re smart, aren’t you?” he says, cadence flat and matter-of-fact. “It’s not a risk. I’m bringing you so that they know you’re with me. You won’t have to come to any more after this, unless it’s what you want.” 

Frowning, you say, “I feel as though they’ll react not so kindly to a human just... waltzing into a war council. You really think they’ll just let me come and sit in?” The Queen will be there, and all the terrifyingly massive players in the Unseelie Court, and then... You. You’ll just have to make yourself seem important enough to be there. Taehyun is one of those invaluable players now, you suppose. The General. Your mind still struggles to wrap itself around the enormity of that.  

Will Yeonjun be there? He’s no doubt got the status. You pick at your fingers viciously. You’re not ready to see him again; not sure if you’ve fortified your walls enough for that yet. You might crumple with just a glance, but to sit in the same room as him? 

“They’ll trust my judgement,” he says. The lines of his face do not carry the same confidence that his voice does. “You’re not just stumbling in. You’re walking in with me.” 

“But, I’m sure they’re all very aware by now that we were spies. Doesn’t that leave a stain on your word?” 

He reaches up to a low-hanging branch, dark and bristling with thorns, and snaps off the very ends of them into thin poles of twig armed with spikes. The thistles remind you of his eyes—in fact, the whole tree does. Barbed and dark and sturdy; the House of Blackthorn could not have better chosen their symbol.  

“They made me their general,” he says, circling until he’s come behind you. “They’ve already made up their minds.” 

Tugging at your hair tells you that he’s wiggling those sticks, black and sharp, into the updo, as if they’re accessories. It’s like what he’d done with those berries just before you’d gone to Court for the first time, but these twigs do not act like a ward like they had.  

You turn to interrogate him and his sudden interest in your hairstyle, but confusion splinters off into nothing when his cold hand brushes at the back of your neck. In a heart-pounding moment, his sword-roughened fingers drag down the length of your jaw from behind. He grabs your chin his hand and turns your face further toward your shoulder. Snowflakes and the breeze and the stars all stand frozen around you. Or, maybe, you haven’t got the will to pretend they exist while he’s leaning down so that he’s right in your ear and whispering with puffed breaths that raise chills on your skin. 

Under his breath, low and just for your ears, he says just one word. It’s one that you don’t recognize, curling in a way that you doubt your tongue would be able to even pronounce. As quickly as the moment had come, he releases your face. Snow crunches under his feet as he retreats. 

Blinking for a moment, you spin on your heel to follow him. You make a point to not catch his stride fully, though. He absolutely should not see how ruffled you are. “What does that mean?” 

He doesn’t answer, only leaving you in a flustered, charged silence. You beg the wintry breeze to carry away your racing thoughts, or at least to lick at your cheeks and cool them. Whatever it was that he’d said, you can only assume it to be in an ancient Faerie tongue. 

With a stuttering heart, you follow him. You’ll just have to whistle in the dark. If you don’t do it scared, you won’t do it at all, and you’re always scared. 

❆

Inside the council room, a handful of who you assume to be the Queen’s most important advisors sit around a circle table. On that table stand war maps and a collection of letters and objects no doubt important to plans and intel. 

In one of those seats sits Yeonjun. Of course, he’s here. You’d anticipated as much, but that doesn’t change the way you jump right out of your skin the split second your eyes meet. It’s a fiery exchange, sending sparks up your spin and rendering your mind a blistering mess. His eyes are hard. He doesn’t shy away from it the way you do, tearing yourself away to sit in the seat next to Taehyun’s.  

It’s not just Yeonjun’s eyes that burn on your skin. They’re wondering why you’re here. You itch to dip out and away from their scrutiny. 

“Do I have to say anything?” you say, voice barely anything but a whisper as you lean over to Taehyun. “Like, announce myself or anything?” 

“Not now,” he says. “Not unless you’re asked to.” 

Fidgeting with your dress under the table, you dip your head in a shallow, quick nod. You’ll just mind your own, unless you’re forced to do otherwise. You can’t risk saying something that’ll end up screwing you both over. 

Chairs scrape the floor, faeries standing and dipping at the waist. You follow them. Your back is to the door, but you don’t need to see to know who’s arrived. The Queen. 

She sits in her seat, at the head of the table, and everybody else follows. You swallow hard. Her eyes, hardened and storm-colored, pin each of the attendees as she sweeps the room. A diadem of twigs and rotted leaf lays on her tangle of hair. The Unseelie Queen; she looks the part. Breath catches in your throat when her eyes come to you. 

When she opens her mouth to speak, jagged teeth reveal themselves from behind grey lips. “The human girl. Does the Blackthorn house claim her?” she asks. Her voice commands the air—both slackened and imposing. 

Yeonjun’s eyes bare down on you.  

Taehyun answers her. “Yes. She is my retinue.” 

One of the council members, with a haughty, long face and a sneer to match it, says, “Is this the girl that you sang so profusely to us for, prince? The spy girl?” His ruffled sleeves flourish as he gestures. He’s dressed especially plummy among them, but they all are dressed in glittering robes and tunics. This faerie no doubt thinks highly of himself, though, to be poking at Yeonjun.  

Yeonjun had spoken of you here?  

You feel a little frozen. Becoming the center of their attention is the very last thing you’d wanted. Rather than sinking back into your seat, you claw at your insides to keep your head held high. You do exchange a quick glance with Taehyun, who’s mouth is pulled taut.  

He takes it in stride. “Yes, it is.” 

“You beseeched us for her safety, but...” the black-haired faerie continues, “She’s sat beside our General.” A cruel smile plays on his lips. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “And I believe it to be unprecedented that a human joins us here, your highness.” He turns to the Queen, a smile that tells exactly of the game he’s playing. 

“Not here,” the Queen snaps. “We haven’t the time for this. Who cares. Let’s not waste what slight time we have, with all of us in attendance.” 

The black-haired faerie snaps his mouth shut, but a nasty attitude lingers. 

Another speaks up. “Your majesty, is there not something to be said of the exclusivity pertaining to who we meet here with?” 

She drums her fingers on the arm of her seat. Bored. “Be gone with it. I did not know you’d become so wary of humans.” 

That stings. You’re not even worthy of being a threat. Jaw tightened, you grit your teeth. 

“She has ears,” he says. “And a well-working mouth, I’m sure, and we have delicate issues to discuss.” 

None of them press any further as she sends them a pointed stare. They begin offering up and discussing their positions and knowledge, much of it lost on you. All you’re thankful for is that most of it is bickering over how to approach the war, and not plans for full-fledged schemes.  

Taehyun offers up his approach a few times, his voice carrying strong and his shoulders squared. Yeonjun does not speak much at all.  

And when it’s over and everybody disassembles, you know you’ve got to leave. Fast; fast enough that Yeonjun will not be able to corner you into a conversation that you are too flimsy to be having. As you do, though, you war against every instinct in your body—heart and feet and arms ringing pleas in your bones. You can’t. Really, you can’t. 

“Pretty.”  

That voice, smooth but also so very sullen now, shatters your frenzied bubble. You go solid and frozen to the ground. 

“Pretty, look at me,” he grits out, voice cracked down and raw.  

When you don’t, he steps around you. His eyes dart up, taking in something on your head, and then his jaw ticks when he finds something he doesn’t like. The blackthorn twigs in your hair. 

He’d looked sullen and detached when sitting at the table, but here, up close, he looks awful—far and beyond worse than you’ve ever seen him. It’s as if you’d ripped the heart right out of his chest and asked him to go on living without it. In the hollowness there’s a sadness, but there’s also a blazing anger. 

A frozen hand takes your upper arm and tugs hard. “Come on. We’re leaving.” Taehyun’s voice is hard. 

You stumble forward with him, summoning the will within you to not look back while you do. You do not want to watch his face as you leave. You absolutely cannot. Your gut twists viciously.  

You’re pathetic, missing him the way you do. 

❆

When you get the first letter, you accept it from the servant uneasily. You don’t even ask whose letter it is. The wax seal tells you enough, but you’d know even without it. Yeonjun has broken his silence. 

It confuses you. Taehyun had intercepted his letters when he sent them before. Why does he not bother, now? It doesn’t feel like a kindness. It feels intentional—like a gambit. Beomgyu had made a point to take those original letters from you. You know he meant well in the cheeky way that he shows his companionship, but you’re spineless after all, and they come at a very weak moment. Just as you’ve built up wavering pillars, he reaches in and crumbles them down as if they were nothing.  

ℐ 𝑘𝓃𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝑡𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑘 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝑡’𝓈 𝑙𝒾𝑒𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝑡 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓅𝒶𝑟𝓉 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓁. 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝒾𝑛𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝑡 𝓅𝒶𝑟𝓉 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝑙. 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝓇𝑦 𝒷𝒾𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝑙. 𝐹𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝓇𝑦 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝑛𝓉 ℐ 𝑙𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝑡𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝒹. 𝒩𝑜 𝑙𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑟 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉. 𝒲𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝒹; 𝒲𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝑣𝑒𝒹 𝑡𝑟𝓊𝑒.  

𝐼’𝓂 𝓈𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑦 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉𝒾𝑛𝑔 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑦 𝒸𝒾𝓇𝒸𝓊𝓂𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝑡𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝒸𝓉 𝑙𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 ℐ’𝒹 𝒽𝓊𝑟𝓉 𝑦𝑜𝓊. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝓌 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝑟𝓊𝑒. 𝒟𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝑘𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝑟𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝑙𝒾𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓈𝑜.  

𝒴𝑜𝓊𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓊𝑛𝓉 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝑦 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝑙𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝑛, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑦𝑒𝓉 ℐ 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉.  

𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝑛𝒹 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝓊𝑟 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓈𝑡 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝒾𝓉. 𝐼 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝑣𝑒 𝒾𝓉. 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝑡 𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓎 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉; 𝐼 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝑙𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒹𝑟𝑜𝓅 𝑜𝑓 𝒾𝓉. 𝒯𝑒𝓁𝑙 𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑓𝒾𝓍 𝑡𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝑛𝒹 ℐ’𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝑣𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝒶𝓈𝑘 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑛𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉.  

𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒿𝓊𝑛 

You’re able to let this one roll off your shoulders, but the next few are not so easy. 

𝐼 𝑤𝒾𝑠𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ℎ𝑎𝒹 𝑠𝓉𝒶𝓎𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑙𝒾𝓈𝑡𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝑟𝓈𝑡𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑤𝒽𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃’𝑡, 𝑎𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝑡, 𝐼 𝑠𝓉𝒾𝓁𝑙 𝑤𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ℎ𝒶𝒹. ℐ’𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝒾𝑠𝑡𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊.  

𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 ℐ 𝑝𝓁𝒶𝑔𝓊𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝓊𝑟 𝑚𝒾𝓃𝒹. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝑓𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝑤𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝓈 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑡, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝑡 𝑏𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝑏𝒶𝒸𝑘 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝑡𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝓂𝑒: 𝑚𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝓂𝑠. 𝒲𝒾𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒, 𝓃𝑜𝓉 ℎ𝒾𝑚. 𝒩𝑜𝓉 ℎ𝒾𝑚.  

𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒽𝒶𝓅𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝑙 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓅𝑡 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝑏𝓊𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝒾𝓁𝑙 𝓃𝑜𝓉. 𝒯ℎ𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝑡𝒽 𝓊𝓃𝑓𝒾𝓃𝒾𝑠𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝑤𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑟𝒾𝑒𝑣𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝑠.    

𝑁𝑜. 𝒯ℎ𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝑠𝓃’𝑡 𝑒𝓃𝒹.   

𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒿𝓊𝓃 

The letters change with your prolonged silence, too. 

𝒮𝑒𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑟𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝑏𝓎 ℎ𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒, 𝒶𝓈 𝒾𝑓 𝓎𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓈… 𝒟𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑤𝒶𝑛𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝒸𝑟𝒶𝓏𝓎? 𝐼 𝒹𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 ℐ’𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝓉 𝓈𝑜 𝑜𝑢𝓉 𝑜𝑓 𝓂𝓎 𝑜𝓌𝑛 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙 𝒶𝓈 𝐼 𝒹𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝐼𝑓 𝓉ℎ𝒶𝓉 𝑤𝒶𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝒾𝑛𝑡𝑒𝓃𝑡𝒾𝑜𝑛, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ℎ𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝑢𝓇 𝓂𝒶𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙. 

𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑛𝑢𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝒾𝓈 𝑏𝒶𝑛𝒾𝓈ℎ𝓂𝑒𝑛𝓉 𝒾𝑓 𝓎𝑜𝑢 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉, 𝑏𝓊𝓉 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝑛. 𝐼𝑡'𝓈 𝑜𝓃𝑙𝓎 𝑓𝒶𝓉𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌ℎ𝑜 𝒶𝓂 𝐼 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 𝑤𝒾𝑡ℎ 𝑓𝒶𝑡𝑒?  

𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒿𝑢𝓃 

It’s jarring, it’s more of that desperate pleading that you’ve been trying so hard to escape, and it’s burrowing deep down into the tender parts of your heart like a stake. 

There are some letters that are even more frenzied than that. They’re testaments to his promises: this doesn’t end. 

You had been sorely mistaken in thinking that Yeonjun would just step away. Terribly mistaken. Deep in your belly brews the feeling that this is not going to go over as smoothly as you hoped it would. In retrospect, how had you ever thought you could cleanly tear him off you? This is not like ripping off a bandage—quick and painful—no, this will be much, much more unpleasant than that. Yeonjun had done a delicate job of veiling just how wretchedly he loves you, but you’d seen peeks of it. Flickers and moments of potent neediness and jealousy, quickly smoothed over with something more groomed and palatable. Now, you see it in full force. As soon as given the need to unveil himself, he was not afraid to. As long as it brings him you. 

But he will not get you. You’re not yet so foolish to go falling back into his arms. Not after you’d done just that, and then learned what trusting him just based off his inability to lie meant. It’s not as if you’re not already slowly wanting to forgive him for the fact that his initial job was to kill you. In weak moments, you construct excuses. But if you brush off lie after lie, where is the limit to the lies you’ll accept, if only just for him? There would be none. That is a dangerous beast to toe.  

You think you know now, why Taehyun lets you read those letters freely.  

  ❆

Lifting your fist to knock on the door, you bounce on your heels. Taehyun tells you to come in, voice muffled behind the door. 

Stepping in, you drink in the sight of his quarters. Not once in the months that you’ve spent here have you been in his room. In the center is the bed, bedding coal black. His desk is cluttered with maps and stray daggers. Taehyun works on the strap to his leather baldric, looking up to you.  

“Where are you going?” you ask him.  

“They called me for council,” Taehyun answers. He straightens up. “What’s up?” 

You purse your lips. “Oh,” you say. “Nothing. I was just seeing what you were up to.” 

Honestly, you’re not entirely sure why you’d stumbled in here. It had just felt right in that moment. It couldn’t hurt to try and mend the tensions that lay between you two, anyway. If this is going to be your home, it’s better off that way. 

Taehyun nods slowly, as if he’s not entirely sure what to say. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. 

A smile tugs at your mouth. Beneath the confident, hardened exterior, Taehyun is stiff in the face of emotional connection. “Didn’t want me to join you for this one?” 

He shakes his head, the lines in his shoulders stiffening as if the thought were offensive. 

Scoffing around a laugh, you say, “I didn’t do that bad, did I?” It’s more to pester him than offense—you’d had your fill. And you want to know what’s changed; why he’s suddenly averse to you joining.  

Jaw shifting, he says, “No, you didn’t.” Taehyun brings his hand up and adjusts his collar. “I’d just prefer it.” 

You change tack. His face has fallen a bit, and you’d intended to lighten things up. “It’s fine. That was boring anyway,” you say, “Besides, I’d prefer it here, with the army of servants waiting to see to my needs.” Tilting your head to one side, you give him a grin chock-full of mock pretension. 

His brow furrows. “The servants? Do you not like it?” 

Shrugging, you answer, “I don’t hate it. It’s nice to have help getting ready, though, I guess. Makes me feel special.” To quell your own gnawing curiosity that’s been festering beginning the moment the first one had arrived, you add, “Why’d you do it, though?” 

His face flickers. “The estate needs to be run. They have duty to do so. If it were going to be anybody, it’s them.” 

You know that look. Living with Taehyun, you’ve got to become fluent in the face and even the most subtle changes. What he doesn’t speak in words, you’re forced to find there. Try as he might to fortify his mask, water will always find and slip through the cracks as slivers of true emotion crack through his face. He’s not telling you the truth. You narrow your eyes. 

“Yeah. I understand that. I just thought we were doing fine before, I guess.” 

“I thought...” he says. “Did the prince not keep servants?” 

Your frown deepens. Why would it matter whether or not Yeonjun has servants? Of course he’d have attendants; he’s a prince of Faerie. Mind churning for a moment, you stumble upon a thought. Or rather, it stumbles upon you. 

Taehyun had brought servants here because he figured that, because of your time with Yeonjun, you’d want that. It bothered him to think that Yeonjun could provide something for you that he couldn’t. He’d gone out and tracked down faeries indebted to him and his father because that got under his skin. You think to that morning he’d woken you up, spitting venom, because Yeonjun had sent you those dresses. And in his arm, he’d held a single crystalline gown. 

“Taehyun, why did you tell Yeonjun about our kiss?” 

For a split second, he’s taken aback, shifting as though you’d lit a fire under his feet. The air hangs heavy—so, so thick. It’s so stiff that you have to breathe with conscious effort. This silence, tense and on the brink of snapping, stretches for an eternity. Your mind reels; you’re just as caught off guard as him. You haven’t the faintest clue where you’d trudged up the nerve, but you had, and now you’re terribly curious to know his answer. The memory had hovered around, blazing and impossible to brush off, from the very moment the words had tumbled out from Yeonjun’s lips. How had you even lasted this long, pretending it hadn’t happened? All off that electric curiosity comes to a head here—now—and you do not know if you’ve prepared well enough for the truth of it. 

As silent as it is, the moment buzzes. It’s deafeningly loud, just as it is deafeningly quiet. His silence answers just as well as words.  

His answer slices the air, cutting through the tension like a scalding knife. “The prince told you that?” 

You step toward him, looking up at him through your lashes. “He did," you say, quick and dismissive. “Why did you tell him? When?” 

A flash—a flash of something untamed and deep like the woods—renders his eyes dark. You remember that look; he’d scarcely let you see it. It had scrawled under your skin the first time he had. Something in it strips you down to your very bones, where you are nothing more than buzzing soul and heat. Taehyun approaches you in dark, languid steps. You’re lightheaded, breaths lodged deep in your chest. Any semblance of clarity you might have had becomes a lost cause as he takes your face in his hands and leaves you no other option than to meet those smoldering eyes. Bitterly cold hands bite into the soft skin of your cheeks. Cold-blooded. 

Your head spins. “Taehyun?” you say, short and breathless. Even just a naked whisper of his name, you struggled to manage it. Him, here, in front of you, is both so real that it rattles you down to you core and so intangible that you wouldn’t dare believe it. And yet, blistering eyes pierce through the mist, and you know that it is sickeningly real.  

“Fuck,” he says, mouth turned down and at war with the rest of his face. He’s so close that you feel the word on your face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His throat bobs. “I don’t know who this is.” 

In a stumble of clumsy feet, you clash with the desk in a rattle. There’s hardly any perch for you, but in a scramble, you curl your fingers white-knuckled around the edge. He has you pinned between him and the wood with nowhere to breathe and nowhere to think. A controlled, shaky breath comes tumbling from behind your lips. Electricity crackles in the air between you, and you’re weak to it. You turn your head away, clawing for some semblance of control or respite from the bare intensity. 

Despite your shock, somewhere deep, deep down in your belly, you know that this is only the fruit of some howling storm that has been swirling—swirling and churning and gaining power. You’d felt the trembling of it, the promise of something explosive and imminent, as oblivious as you were to its source. Now, the ground cracks open beneath you, and it will accept nothing other than to swallow you whole. 

“Do you not think of me as a man?” he grits out. Since you’ve decided to blatantly avoid his gaze, he gets down right into your neck. “Well, I am. And you brought him here. Brought him into my home, and you let him touch you. ” 

Taehyun had been there that day.  

It’s as if time itself slows down around you. This moment inflates into something infinite. Everything that he’d done, every little thing that you’d struggled to digest, is laid out before you. He’s holding your hips as if you’ll fade around the edges and leave him here. There’s something raw beneath the growled words; something desperate. 

Belly flipping ruthlessly, you speak, but they’re not coherent thoughts. “I... didn’t think that...” 

He’s quick to cut you off, rearing back to look you in the eyes once more, forcing you to do the same. And he holds you there. “Do you think that he can provide for you better than me? That I can’t provide you your needs?” 

Your heart is a ravenous, wild thing in your chest. All that he’d done: the dress, the servants, finding Beomgyu, staying here in the north, demanding that you don’t depend or even associate with Yeonjun, urging you to not attend Court because he knew Yeonjun would be there—was because it was supposed to be him. And it was killing him because finally something had managed to drive right through that suit of ice armor he struggles so hard to keep up, right down to where his real emotions slumber, and he is forced to feel something. In all that banishing emotion away, he’s now faced with this blazing consumption, and he is utterly lost. 

Taehyun curses, a relenting of his will, before he’s taking your lips to his. It’s a ravaging, fervent meeting, clashing teeth and roaming hands with no destination. He lifts you up onto the desk, and then his hand finds the hair at the very back of your head. You remember this wild dance of tongue and mouth—the first time he’d put his mouth on you, it’d been just the same. You’re gasping and clawing at his shoulders.  

What on earth are you doing? 

His hands are all over you. It’s as if he can’t get enough, as if he’s catching up to all that had been bursting at the seams in his mind. His lips taste like finally. When he’s forced to release your lips for air, it’s not as if he gives you any real room to breathe—his lips fall like glowing ashes down the column of your neck. You’re helpless to the whines he takes from your lips. He melds your bodies into one clumsy thing, pushing you down into the desk in a clumsy clatter. He wholly overwhelms you, and you think that it is a conscious effort. He intends to wiggle his way into every little corner, every little space, until you have no room for thought but him. If the drunken haze that’s rendered your thoughts sluggish is anything to speak of his efforts, he’s succeeded. 

You catch yourself halfway down, before your back makes it down onto the desk. His mouth is back on yours, spinning with the sting of your scalp as he guides you through his kiss. His hands reach your upper thigh, making slow work of bunching the fabric. 

“If you knew,” he says, appreciating the bare skin as if it were as precious as jewel and gold the same way he had that night in your bed: as if every inch were just as intimate as a glimpse of your cunt. “If you knew what I think about doing to you.”  

Blood roars beneath your skin. The confession that Taehyun has thought about touching you like this, or the fact that he’s been battling against his own mind in the onslaught of those thoughts, sheds a new light over so much. Beneath that stony face, he’d been needing you.  

Through the licking of your bottom lip and the buzzing behind your skull, you see Yeonjun’s face. Your stomach does a flip. You’re not supposed to feel guilty. You shouldn’t, but guilt slices like a molten dagger through the haze. How can you be here, doing this, when he’s out there aching for you? As far as you distance yourself from his sphere, you’re still reminded of who taught you your body now that another man touches you. You imagine how hurt he’d be if he saw you now. 

You rage against those thoughts. You owe no guilt to the man that had only ever approached you because you were his target. 

Taehyun’s gaze meets yours. You must’ve gone quiet, or maybe still. Perhaps it’s your eyes that gives it away, though, because he does not like what he finds in them. In a blink, he’s retracting back into his shell.  

“You’re thinking of him,” he spits. His voice is so caustic and venomous as it falls out that your skin burns. “Even while I’m touching you.” 

You want nothing more than to reach in and pull that fire and raw emotion back out. He pulls away. Your skin is painfully empty of his touch. Chest aching, you say, “Taehyun, wait. Please. I wasn’t.” The lie rolls off your tongue too easily, but you can’t stand the chill fallen over your form. 

His face is far off and distant, his jaw set tight. He runs a hand through his hair, made a mess with your touch, the action punctuated by a barbed laugh. 

He doesn’t even say anything more to you when he leaves the room. He just leaves. You sit for a few minutes, legs dangling and blood roaring.  

Taehyun has kept a lot beneath a jaded and aloof front, but it seems that even he has a tipping point.  

❆

“That reeks,” Beomgyu says. He’s sat on the basin, legs dangling down. 

The water embraces you in a delightful lukewarm that disarms your nerves and has you drowsy. “Soap?” you say with a subsequent rich snort. You scoot, bathwater lapping at the walls of the tub when you bring your knees to your chest. The round tub is big enough for you to sprawl out, but you prefer sitting right up against the wall. Only the suds and perfumed oils sitting in a thin, hazy film on top of the water protect your decency from Beomgyu’s eyes. With the servants insisting on helping you wash, though, you’ve become indifferent to bathing in front of others. It’s not as if you’ve got to worry about him leering, anyway. He doesn’t blink at your nakedness. You appreciate the company. “It smells clean. You know, so you don’t smell like straight mud.” 

“Mud is not such an offensive smell as that,” he says, nose crinkling. “You lather yourself in smells that are wholly unbelievable.” 

Laughing, you feign sending a spray of water droplets his way. “Well,” you muse, “We are not hewn from the same stone. We have to clean ourselves.” While your worldly body demands that you maintain hygiene with soap and water, the folk wash for leisure. You don’t bemoan it, though. It’s your reality—always will be—and you delight in coming out feeling fresh. “And your earthy... musk... is just as terrible to me as this is to you. So...” 

“Agree to disagree.” He sits still. Beomgyu is always eerily still—you’ve come to the realization that it’s because he doesn’t breathe. No rising or falling of his chest meant he could sit in absolute repose. You’re not entirely used to it, even now. How could anything be a living, talking being, without breath? There he sits, though.  

Echoes of your washing fill the room. You sigh. With each scrub, you imagine carving away both any dirtiness and any heavy thoughts. It doesn’t work, of course. You feel no less heavy. If only it were that easy. 

“Taehyun is general now,” you say, frown tugging at your face. “For the Queen.” Remembering it makes you feel impossibly heavier. It had been a secretive move, but still... He had become the one thing that has haunted him for you. His words yesterday said as much. You buzz at that memory, heart racing at just the memory. It had been a battle pretending your first kiss hadn’t happened, but this was different. Terribly different. 

You blink, trying to bring yourself together when Beomgyu says, huffing out a humorless laugh, “He is only his father’s son.” 

Sighing, you sink lower into the water. The kelpie wouldn’t be himself without some snide remark in Taehyun or his father’s expense. You know why he’d done it, now, but you’re awful and can’t help but consider what him being general might mean. Taehyun has a strict moral code; you don’t think he’ll go around killing in cold blood. Still, in order to retain his standing, he’ll have to carry out the council’s will. It’s a slippery slope; you fear the he’ll become the thing he’d once hated at your expense. With a sickened stomach, you hold your knees closer. You don’t want that. “He said it was to make sure we’re no longer targets. You know, since we came here as spies and all that,” you say, voice softening as thoughts grow louder. 

Agitated, Beomgyu slips off the basin. “Why would he have bothered with finding me, then, if he had already made other plans?” 

Spinning water with a finger and watching it swirl, you say, “I know for a fact it’s why he did it. It’s just that I don’t like it. I mean, getting involved in the war is one thing. We were already involved to some degree, anyway. Becoming the general is a whole other thing.” 

A wicked delight crackles across Beomgyu’s face, and you brace yourself for whatever has excited him so. “If you would deign it with your word... We could be gone from this estate. Anywhere that pleases us, free from the fool.” 

“Of course,” you say, rolling your eyes and watching him pace the floor. “It’s always dramatics with you. We’re not running away. Good try, though.” 

He pauses, grimacing down at you. You suppress a laugh. Maybe you could’ve entertained his grand plan. At least, for a moment. Your fingers have pruned up, but you have no will to drag yourself from the warmth. Let you just stay like this, cocooned in its welcoming arms, for a bit longer. Then, you’ll find it within you to face the memory of Taehyun’s hands and the gravity of what he’d let slip. 

❆

Dust motes flutter when caught in the light. You, with bare feet padding on the chilly morning floors, plow right through them. A clattering, so lively in the still sleep-ridden estate, floats out from the kitchens. You follow it. 

Beomgyu stands, lanky and strange as always, watching a servant work dutifully on a meal. You frown. It’s a bit early for any of your usual meals. 

“Hanging around in the kitchen? Thought you didn’t eat,” you say.  

He gives you a distracted grumble. “I can eat. I just don’t need to.” 

An eye roll slips. “That’s even worse. You asked for a meal to be made for you, just so that you can taste it,” you say, hand on your hip. “Very inconsiderate.” 

Disconcertment lines his face at that, looking back over at the servant. “I did not ask for a meal.” 

“Yeah... Okay. Anyway, do you know where Taehyun has gone? Out?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head. “No, I don’t believe he’s gone anywhere,” he says, eyeing you. “You’re searching for the Lord?” 

“I mean, I was just wondering where he is. I didn’t see him around, or anything.” 

“Oh, pull your stake from my heart,” he grumbles and scratches at his neck. “I fear you’ve abandoned me in my loathing, with who else am I to escape this place? ” he says.  

“There you go again,” you say, relenting to conversation. Conversation with Beomgyu makes you feel lighter. “If we ran away, we’d make it like... a week.” 

He cocks his head to the side. “You’d last a week. I’d be just fine.” 

“Oh, you think so?” you scoff. “And where would we go?” 

Now, he’s really riled up, throwing his arms up, exasperated. “To the forest,” he deadpans. “I... come from the forest. Of course I’d go to the forest.” 

Mouth pulled into a grin that you know will irk him, you say, “Sounds like a nice place. For you. You just want to get out of here, you don’t care about what happens to me. I’m hurt. This is supposed to be our escape plan, not Beomgyu’s.” 

He likes that, lips curling at the corners. “Well, I pride myself in my cleverness, and it’s not as though I’ll be leaving this rotten place by my own means,” Beomgyu says.  

“Oh, you’re just so clever.” You’ve become too familiar with that impish grin—he’s joking. But you don’t doubt for a second that if you were to propose running away, Beomgyu would be elated. He makes the jokes for a reason, anyway. It’s become a sort of game; him suggesting it, and you shutting it down. “And is that why you deign to bless me with your presence? Plotting and scheming?” 

“Don’t give me your sarcasm,” he huffs. “I deign you with my presence because I ought to. What else should I do?” 

“You love me,” you say, tableware and platters clattering and mingling with the sound of your voice. “I know it.” You drag out the last syllables in a taunting melody. 

 The servant who had been busy with making the breakfast, a hob you don’t really recognize, pokes in to tell you that it’s finished, so you move your conversation over to the table. Pulling out the chair, you eye the plates. It’s more extravagant than you usually eat here. It reminds you more of Court food or what few meals you’d had with Yeonjun: a honeyed meat and some fire-roasted burdock root. Beside it is a bowlful of salt, but it’s only by yours. You dip your head at the faerie, careful of course not to say thank you. That would mean that the faerie has done you a favor, and then you’d be expected to repay it. A simple gesture works just fine. 

Beomgyu doesn’t sit, nor does he take any interest in eating. Instead, he hovers at the far end of the long table, telling you, “I do not love anything.” 

Raising your brows at him, you say, “Whatever.” You salt the bitter root before forking it. “What are you so antsy for, anyway? Isn’t your whole thing that you sit around in a swamp for the entirety of your existence? What’s that, to staying in an estate for a bit? I think that you just like to complain to me.” 

He laughs, rocking on his heels. “It’s about free will,” he says, “And, maybe I do. Though, isn’t it a wonder that you complain to me just as much?” 

You’ve finished your plate. “Fair.” 

Taehyun emerges from a room. Your belly does a little surprised flip. You knew he was still here, but you’d hoped to avoid him. When you’d first arrived here, the estate had felt massive. Now, it’s not so much the same.  

 He doesn’t mention it, though. Instead, he surveys the table, and then his brows knit. “You’ve cooked?” 

“Not us. It was being made when I got up. There’s some for you, too, though. If you’re hungry.” 

His frown deepens, but he nods and wanders off into the kitchen. You understand. You’d been confused when you’d went into the kitchen to find a meal being made so early. It’s as if the servant is new and unfamiliar with schedules. Turning to Beomgyu, you say, “Anyway. Would sneaking out for one night appease you?” You push around the last bits of your breakfast, too full to eat anymore. “Maybe you just need to get the thrill out of your system. I have a tree by my window, that might up the ante rather than sneaking out the front door.” You give him a tongue-in-cheek raise of a brow. 

“Well, I don’t think it’s sneaking if you discuss it a room away from who you’re sneaking around,” he answers, picking at the wood of the table. “And, no.” 

At a crash, you both are whipping your heads toward the doorway. The hob servant is sprawled out on its knees. Taehyun’s face has gone cold, and he holds his sword out at the faerie in a point. Your eyes go wide, and you hop up out of your seat. “What are you doing?” you say, taking in the scene. Adrenaline sparkles in your pulse. One second, you’d been enjoying your morning, the next Taehyun has one of his servants at sword point. It’s whiplash.  

Despite your initial shock, though, you pull together the pieces—about the strangeness of the routine, and the unusual meal, and the unfamiliar faerie. You go to share a look with Beomgyu. In the narrow twitch of his eyes, you deduct that he’s come to the same conclusion. And, you’d eaten that whole meal.  

“Face me.” Taehyun barks out the command, looking down on the hob with a chilling severity. 

The faerie does slowly, bowing its head to avoid Taehyun’s face in an attempt to placate him. Taehyun says, “Who have you weaseled yourself into my estate for?” His voice carries, strong and unforgiving. It penetrates down to your marrow. You’re sure the hob feels it worse, though. There’s a long few moments with no answer. Either they won’t say it, or they can’t. They dip their head further. “If you think that your silence will earn you a quick death, it will not. Speak now, or give me your hand. I’ll have your fingers.” 

“Taehyun,” you say, shooting him a hard stare. “Are you serious?” Your stomach goes nauseous. You’ve seen Taehyun kill before, but a punishment like that, meant to inflict agony... It shocks you. 

Taehyun looks at you strangely, eyes at war with the rest of him. He says to you, keeping his sword on the hob, “Am I serious? You just ate all of that, who knows if it was poisoned.” Now stood behind the hob, he takes it by the scruff and lines the deadly edge of his sword up to its neck. 

Your heart does a little trick. You absolutely had eaten that food without question. Why would you question it? It hadn’t come to your mind at all that somebody might infiltrate this estate. With Taehyun’s new role, it only makes sense. You don’t feel bad, though. Not like when you had been poisoned at The Hovel. You’d felt that pretty fast and hard. Right now, you feel fine. As much relief as that brings you, it does beg the question: if they’d come here to do harm, why wouldn’t they utilize such a blaring opportunity? The hob had just... made you food. 

“I have every right to protect my home, and those who live in it.” Taehyun grabs harder, picking the hob up and pressing his sword in closer. The hob squeezes its narrow eyes shut. “It’s my duty.” 

It’s always duty, with Taehyun. The sight of the faerie bracing, knowing that Taehyun will hurt or kill it, worms under your skin. Your fingers strain in trembling fist. You can’t handle the awful sight, no matter if the faerie had intended to harm you. 

You think you know who’d sent the hob to come and be eyes on the inside of Taehyun’s estate, anyway. 

Beomgyu scoffs hoarsely from beside you. “I watched the fool make it. She’s not fallen sick, had she?” His bored eyes shine with distaste. "You, general, just miss the taste of blood on your tongue. You miss it dearly, I know. It’s a terrible hunger to have.” He exchanges the word Lord with one that you can acknowledge hits as a much lower blow, considering his past. Beomgyu would never miss the opportunity to remind Taehyun that from which he comes from. To that regard, you are thankful for not knowing who your parents are. No matter where you end up, at least you’ve had the power to mold your own legacy. Taehyun’s follows him, grim and stained red.  

“Taehyun, can’t you just make an exception this once? Beomgyu’s right. If they’d have wanted us hurt, they had a pretty good opportunity to. But, they didn’t.” You flex your fingers hoping to expel some nerves and step closer to where he’s stood. Making a point to catch his eyes and hold them hostage, you add, “We’d be hypocrites to kill for spying. You know that. Who are we, to call it justice and kill over this? That’s not fair.” 

He holds your eyes, pausing. “Exceptions are dangerous,” he says, but his voice is changed. There’s something other than ice-cold resolution there. You release a breath of tension.  

“I get that, but...” You search his face. “Please.” 

The estate is quiet aside from the huffing of the hob for a second. The look in Taehyun’s face changes, and then he’s throwing the faerie to the ground. He sheathes his sword with a crisp click that you’ve never been more elated to hear, and he snaps, “Get out. Go. Tell whoever the hell sent you here that I won’t take so kindly to this again.” 

The hob does not waste even a second in making good on their second chance. It scrambles up and away in a scramble of furious legs and arms. 

Beomgyu shakes his head and goes to retreat off to wherever he spends a majority of his time, now that the show is over.  

Taehyun, looking disconcerted with his arms folded and brows lifted, says, “Somebody is sending their people here, and now I’ve set a precedent. I look weak. Those wolves will pounce on any stretch of weakness they can find.” 

You sigh. “I know,” you say. “I know, Taehyun. Thank you.” You don’t tell him that the wolf he speaks of is Yeonjun, and that the spy was not here to kill or collect intellect from him.  

It seems that the prince has made his move. 

❆

“You think that was the end of it?” Beomgyu says. “No. That was nothing beyond a glimpse. A life spent beside his blood-drinking father is undeniable. How the gentry kids learn Court snark, the Lord learned to take butchery as a trophy.” 

Shooting him a glare, you slot the arrow in its home and pull the bowstring taut. It comes much easier, now. Your chest doesn’t tremble, and you can properly hold it there comfortably enough to actually aim. Finding the bullseye of woven straw, you narrow your eyes down. You find the center of the spiral, further down the field now that you’ve gotten a better handle on your archery. Like Taehyun had said, you aim a little left to make room for wind direction. You release a slow breath in a smooth, silver stream of breath. Wind whistles around the arrow as it dances down the flat of powdery snow. It pierces the center left with a far-off thud. Not a bullseye, but you’re glad to meet your mark.  

You reach for another arrow. “Or,” you say, “Growing up with his father taught him to be a better man for it.” 

The kelpie, having watched you practice out here for at least thirty minutes, looks up to you from where he sits squatted on the ground. “You don’t believe that,” he scoffs. He drags a finger in the snow. The ground around him is a work of muddy shapes, where he’s worked the snow so much that the wet ground beneath it has begun turning it to brown slush. “The brute is no different. Ardently as he may detest the former general, he has followed his tracks in the snow. Reluctance makes him no better.” 

Cupping your hands over your mouth, you puff out warm breaths that soothe your stinging nose and stiff fingers. It lasts only a small, gratifying moment. You puff out a sigh and take the bow back into your hands. You thought you’d gotten over this conversation, decided to determine for yourself what kind of man Taehyun is, but... When he took up his role as general, you were set back an infuriating mile. Things are even muddier, now. You know he has a reputation to keep up as general, and that he made an exception for you in letting that spy go. If he doesn’t present a strong front, it’ll put you all in danger. That doesn’t stop abrasive thoughts from sticking under your skin, though.  

“Don’t even try and act like you care about violence,” you tell him, giving him a high brow. “It’s not as if you don’t trick people and drag them down into your swamp for your own enjoyment. You just dislike Taehyun.” You bring back the string and let another arrow go. It lands somewhere near the first.  

He doesn’t deny that, a rotten smile splitting across his face.  

Your next shot lands beside the bullseye. Letting out a triumphant sound, you say, “Did you see that?” 

Beomgyu hums. “That one was good.” He stands up to full height with creaking bones and adds, “But, aren’t you getting bored of this? I say we find something more interesting to waste precious time with.” 

You frown. “More interesting...” 

He nods, enthused.  

“That sounds like a terrible idea, coming from you. Interesting is subjective, and I don’t think I’d like to learn your interpretation of it,” you say, voice sewn with suspicion. You lean your bow against the tree, though. Hitting so close to the center was enough gratification to appease you for the day. “And how can I be sure that this isn’t part of an escape plan?” 

He groans. “Let me play some, won’t you? I have a place that will please the both of us.” 

You feign long consideration, but you’ve already decided. As cold as you are, and despite your weary arms, you’re jumping at the opportunity to escape the strong walls of the estate. You’ve got a funny tingling in your veins that pleads with you to go and do something. Wherever Beomgyu may take you, you’ll just appreciate the distraction from muddled thoughts and recycling anxieties. You nod finally. “Fine. Don’t bring me anywhere weird, kelpie.” 

Though, you never know what you’re getting into, with Beomgyu. 

❆

Well, the dusted walls of a once-great residence around you are not the worst you imagined when thinking where Beomgyu might take you. 

“You told I’d me be pleased,” you say, voice bouncing off the walls and coming back to you hollow. It was the residence of some gone gentry folk, you know. Why that would be of any interest to you, you’re not sure. It’s pretty, sure. You’d fought snow and numb fingers to get here, though. You frown at him expectantly. 

“You have a sorry amount of trust in me. You would be, if you’d just open your eyes to it,” he cuts back.  

You hum. “Sure.” Raking your eyes over the baseboards, brown wood carved into leaves and acorns, and then down the still halls, you make an effort to see anything differently. Of course, it does nothing. Beomgyu speaks strangely, and he hadn’t actually meant to look differently. Despite your conclusion, you still see a stale and forgotten place. You cross your arms over your chest and say, “I get it. This was just an escape plan. And I’m gonna get your ass. Do you know how far of a that walk was?” 

“This would be a nice to stay, if we were to forget a certain Lord’s estate...” he muses, tilting his head off to one side. “But no.” 

Looking around, your eyes catch on the film of dust on the floor down the hallway that shoots off from the tall dining hall that you stand in. More specifically, you’re concerned with the set of footsteps leading down it. Your feet tell you to dart. “Beomgyu?” you say, eyes wide as you look over to him. “Who’s here?” 

“Should we go find out?” he says, thick set of brows jumping in a playful twitch. 

He sets off down the hallway. You follow, internalizing the new surroundings with large drinks. You’re not sure why you ever thought this would end with him taking you out to the forest to watch will-o'-the-wisps dance in twinkling balls of light, or going to watch a babbling brook work its way over the earth. 

A tall man steps out from a room. You jump, pulling Beomgyu back, as if he weren’t some ancient faerie beast capable of managing himself. He cracks a laugh. The man looks between you two. Your tongue darts out to wet dry lips. He’s no doubt wondering who you are, just the same as you’re wondering who he is. You whisper to your cavorting heart that Beomgyu is magically compelled to not shove you into harm’s way, and it seems that he knows who this is. 

You notice the man’s round ears, and his soft and humble features, and the earthliness, and the imperfection-flecked skin. Familiarity bursts in your chest—you’re looking into the face of another human. “Who is this?” you whisper over to Beomgyu. 

“This is Soobin,” he announces, answering your whisperings with his full chest. “A friend, and a human, as I think you’ve noticed.” A proud gleam flashes over his eyes. “I believe that you owe me your thanks now.” 

The man, Soobin, dips his head at you. Dull, brown eyes study you. “I am,” he says. 

Searching for words, you open and close your mouth a few times. A nervous thrill wraps you up. You’ve wanted to get to know and be friends with your kind for your entire life. “Why are you here?” you ask, making a gesture at the residence. “It looks abandoned. Very abandoned.” When you’d first arrived at Taehyun’s estate, it’d been left alone for quite a while in Taehyun’s leaving it behind. This, though, looks much different than that. You wonder who this place belonged to, and why it’s no longer in use. 

Sullen eyes answer yours. They remind you of Beomgyu’s, the old tiredness. It’s strange, seeing that look reflected on such a young face. How does Beomgyu known him, anyway? Soobin answers, “I was a glamoured servant here. Until the faerie died.” He continues talking as he returns to the room from which he’d come from. This room, off and away from the massive inner hall that makes up the majority of the residence, is fresher. Where dust balls and had taken over what was once most definitely a place busy with servants and the host of many feasts, this room is alive and no doubt where Soobin lives. “Then, the glamour died, and I came back to myself.” He sits down onto a foot bench in front of a green-sheeted bed. This must’ve been bedroom for the faerie he’d served. Now, it’s his. He brings his hands up. Where the soft skin of an easy life should sit, there’s worn and ruined skin in its place. “I wasn’t conscious when I’d been working it, but when I came back... my body ached. It ached so bad, and at first, I had no idea why or... where I was. All I knew was that I’d been worked into the ground.” 

Your heart hangs like stone in your chest, looking at his broken hands. When you’d been taken from the human world, you’d been so young that it made no difference to you. Growing up here, it’s all you’ve ever known. Not every human is brought here how you had been, though. Some are snatched up from their adult lives; fallen to some faerie trick hidden in plain sight. Slip up, and you’re stolen away to come do work in this wretched realm. You don’t know what’s worse: what happened to you, being raised here and molded into a meaningless servant, or that. The faerie had stolen time from his life that he will never get back—and he remembers none of it. Glamoured servants had always stricken a gut-wrenching sick feeling in you, whenever you’d seen them. With gone eyes and hollowed out cheeks, they’d look right through you like mist and continue on with their prescribed duties. Like a husk of a living being. 

Even now, Soobin’s body tells the story of the taxation. This faerie must’ve seen humans as cattle. “Why stay here?” you ask, making a seat out of a sofa along the wall. The cushions accept your shape graciously; made affable by time and use. Beomgyu trades the cushioned seat for the floor in front of your crisscrossed legs. He lolls his head back, coarse hair tickling at your skin. 

Beomgyu answers. “Because he has no place else to go, and his awful stubbornness keeps him here. There are no rides back to the human world, if you’re not willing to give something away for it.” 

Soobin, looking more annoyed than genuinely angry with Beomgyu’s words, says, “I’m not going to give your kind any more of me than I was already forced to. I’ll find a way. Eventually.” 

Eventually. The word is heavy coming out from his mouth, falling out like a dud; not even he believes it. “How long have you been here?” 

“I... don’t know.” He shifts, watching the flooring rather than looking at the two of you as he speaks. “Since I was taken here? I have no idea. I don’t remember a lick of it. But from what I do remember, long. Centuries, maybe.” 

Your fingers, raking paths through the tangles in Beomgyu’s hair, freeze. Looking up at him, you tilt your head. It sounds like it should be a hyperbole, an overdramatization to describe what feels like an eternity spent here in this old place. But he doesn’t deliver it as such. No, his voice doesn’t joke at all—his eyes stare hard and lack the light of life. “What?” you say. Your voice crackles with a confused flare. “What do you mean, centuries?” 

“He means that he’s been making this his home for centuries,” Beomgyu says. 

“No,” you say, willing your glare to burn holes through the back of his head below you. Of course, he doesn’t stir or notice at all. “I mean, that’s not possible. We don’t live that long.” Nonetheless, he looks no older than you. Anything above twenty years is no less unbelievable than centuries.  

“You don’t?” Beomgyu says. You hear the patronizing smile through his words. “I have known him long. And yet, he lives... How strange is that?” 

You deliver a punishing shove at the back of his head. “You know what I meant, idiot.” 

Simpering, he says back to you from over his shoulder, “You’re not so much the sweet girl I remember meeting. Spend enough of your time here, and even the human’s body slows. The makeup of his human flesh has not aged for quite some time. Neither will yours.” 

A lifetime spent dreading how fast your life will dwindle away comes crashing down over you. You blink hard at the impact. You’d been haunted; followed around by the dark and heavy promise of a soon death, of deteriorating joints and a forgettable name. That had all been in vain? The enormity of that realization... it comes overhead like dark and swirling water, sucking you down where no amount of kicking or thrashing will clear a way. It swallows you. A bitter anger kindles down in the depths from which that fear had nestled itself. So, Nut-hatch had made the very conscious decision to lead you to believe otherwise. 

“You’ve reached maturity, and you will stay this way for until you leave Faerie. The years will begin coming to you, as long as you remain there; where time flows differently through the veins,” Beomgyu continues. “He only wishes to spend his blessing of time decaying away here.” 

The two of them begin talking back and forth about whatever it is that Beomgyu says, but a loud silence like fog in your head has their words more like background noise. You’d lived for so, so long thinking that you were running out of time. The tick of a terrible clock sounded off in the distance in a haunting echo in everything you ever did. It’s why you ever rallied the nerve to up and leave the life you’d been dragged into. You’d been so scared of wasting what little life you had—fear welled up high and told you that time was running out to do it. Would you have ever even left, if you’d not thought yourself so rushed? Your face feels hot. 

Soobin saying your name, loud and questioning, draws you out just enough to hear him say, “How did you get tricked?” 

You swallow and clear your throat, sitting up straighter. “What do you mean?” you ask, mental inertia coloring your words lost. “Tricked?” Doing a re-survey of the room, you stop on the windows. Day has begun weaning off into the gray of eventide.  

“How did you end up as a servant, I mean,” he elaborates. 

“Oh,” you say, nodding your understanding. “Sorry, I got distracted. I was taken when I was little, so I didn’t get tricked, or anything.” Nut-hatch didn’t have to trick you to bring you here like most faeries do when taking humans from their world, because you had no will. It’s the loophole in their governing nature; though they might not be able to just take humans without a promise or debt or something of that sort, they can take away the newly born. As long as they leave behind what they believe to be a replacement as payment. 

“You’re a changeling,” he says, as if realizing out loud. His eyes meet yours, dead and gone and bitter. “You should’ve killed that faerie. They all deserve it.” 

The acidic rancor there has you balking. Kill Nut-hatch? You may still harbor resentment—deep, deep gnarly gashes and crevices that you’d had to fill, and it just so happens that enmity did the job well. You understand his anger, but the thought of killing your stealer for self-gratifying revenge doesn’t make you feel good. Not in the way he suggests it should. In a sick way that only a child with a cavity in their chest where the love for a parent should be could manage, you consumed her role as your owner and digested it down into something you could cling on to. And, with chubby little desperate hands, you had. Perhaps she would spit in your face if you were to return to her now—because you’d failed to fulfill your purpose for her—you could not fathom hurting her. You pull back the sour face twitching at your muscles and say, “How do you feel about that, Beomgyu? I thought you were friends.” 

He shakes his head. “If you make senseless bets, you’re already the fool. You can’t act so surprised when you’re then asked to put on the fool’s hat and to dance,” he says, pointed derision like an arrow at Soobin.  

Whatever that means. The folk speak with adages and idioms, but Beomgyu’s verbiage is infested with it.  You scuffle down your laugh when Soobin does not share your humor. 

“How was I supposed to have thought I’d be making a bet with a faerie? Nobody even knows this shit is real, there. It’s all just folklore and scary stories. It’s not fair ground if I didn’t even know that I was doing it. And now, here I am: everybody I ever knew and loved is long, long dead.” 

His words are seething with hatred, and yet they’re barren. It’s carved him up inside, dug him out into a shell with only this awfulness left. It shakes you a bit. You’d been so eager to find another human to know or to bond with. This, though... Your brain feels rattled around in your skull. You hope to never become this.  

“So, no. We are not friends,” Soobin says. “He only comes here to enjoy my misfortune, and our kind live with the need for interaction. I tolerate it, I guess.” 

You husk out a laugh that doesn’t find your eyes. “Well, that’s not very nice, Beomgyu,” you say, stressing his name with false reprimand. “He enjoys my suffering too,” you tell Soobin. You nudge Beomgyu with your dangling leg, trying to drag the nonplussed kelpie back into the conversation to save you. 

“Of course, he does. It’s why they take us from our world: our pain is no more than like playing with a beetle to watch it struggle, and then killing it when it’s no longer fun. We’re bugs. Or, dirt. I’m sure you’ve heard that before. They love to tell us that.” 

You have. That memory is one that you prefer shoved down and compact where you can’t let it remind you what your designated role really is. You’ve been so good about ignoring it, too. With a quick glance to the windows and the dark that’s fallen outside, you say, “I think we need to go, Beomgyu. We didn’t bring any lights...” 

The kelpie drags himself up from the ground and away from the room without any sharing of pleasantries. You offer Soobin a quick goodbye and are next out of the room, feet moving like the wood flooring has gone to hot coals. 

Even in the round edges of a human face, you had not found the resonance that you’ve longed so hard for. Humans have the capacity for unshaking violence and vacant souls too, it seems. Perhaps it was never that you were looking for a human to see yourself reflected in—you’d just bloomed cloudy hopes of finding eyes that will see you clearly and deeply. Those hopes had been misplaced. 

 But, if not in another human, then who? 

❆

It’s utterly black outside—a moonless night. Kicking your restless legs out from your blankets, you stumble down the stairs. 

You can’t find sleep, even behind closed eyes. Behind your eyelids, you see Yeonjun’s storm-clouded face and you taste Taehyun on your mouth. You’re harassed by guilt cruelly, and feel the weight of your conversation with Soobin deep in your chest.  

How you end up at Taehyun’s door once again, you’re not sure. It’s a wholly inappropriate hour of the night, and you ought to have learned your lesson the last time you’d found yourself here. You don’t know why your sleepy legs lead you here. You’re better off plaguing Beomgyu with your restlessness instead. Why you’re stood here before this door... It’s beyond you. 

Though, you’ve been desperately unable to shove down the urge to stick your toes in the water and see just how icy they are. He’s pointedly avoided you, and you have no grasp on where you two are going after this. An innate feeling, settled heavy like stone in your chest, tells you that everything has changed. 

Once you’ve knocked and cracked the door open, though, a nervous tide creeps up on you. You should pivot and be back to your room. You would, if you were smart, but as Taehyun sits up with a mess of dark hair and sleep-dusted cheeks, you’re compelled by something other than your mind. It’s something strangely human, waking up in a groggy haze. The sight of sleepiness on the ever-composed Taehyun is jarring. It’s gone in only a blink, though, as he shakes it away. 

“Is something wrong?” he says. He may have brushed away the fog in his brain, but he’s powerless to the husk still weighing his voice down. It sends a strange thrill through you.  

You shake your head, throat dry. 

He frowns. “You’re having dreams again?” 

The gentle question has you pausing. It’s so out and away—so far beyond what you expect from him. Taehyun has never been one to ask around about how you’re feeling. He’d much rather skirt around such things, and pretend them away. Emotional nuance is a lost cause on him. Or, that’s what you’d thought, anyway. What’s changed? “No,” you tell him, pursing your lips. “I just... wanted to talk to you.” 

Taehyun sits more fully upright. “About what?” he says. You don’t miss how his shoulders straighten and stiffen. 

On bare feet, you shuffle over to his bed. “Nothing,” you tell him. You hadn’t exactly planned on coming here. Of course, he thinks you’ve come here to address what had happened. But... that’s not why you came here. At least, you think it isn’t. You don’t know. “Can I sit?” You gesture at the foot of his bed. He nods, eyes trained right on you. Pressing one knee into the coverlets, you climb in. 

The buzzing and hum of wind dance in the air between you. You’re not sure what to say; it’s so heavy with every single thing. It’s hard to keep things light with him, when even the silence is painted with intensity.  

You settle with just saying, “I couldn’t sleep.” 

He licks his lips, nodding. “I’d only just fallen asleep,” he says. “Always something to think about.” 

You can relate to that. The melody of a serene, content mind seems like a distant memory. “Sorry,” you say. You hadn’t meant to ruin his rest. Rigidity intrudes on the flow of conversation. You don’t remember ever being this awkward. 

He dismisses that with a shake of his head. “I’ll manage,” he says. “When I came back yesterday, you and the kelpie weren’t here. Where did you go?” 

This is exactly what had been keeping your mind awake. You had wanted to think of anything but that, but maybe talking to somebody about it will be nice. “Beomgyu took me somewhere,” you say. You laugh softly as he makes a face. “Yeah, I know. It was some old, run-down place. And there was this human there.” 

You pause, filtering through the memory. Taehyun doesn’t speak, his eyes watching you with an attentive slowness. He’s just listening. Continuing, you say, “It was weird, because... Well, we were talking, and... He was nice. It was nice, talking to another human and seeing my features on him.” 

You give a passing glance over at his ears. 

“And Beomgyu is a jerk, but I don’t think I learned that yesterday,” you say. You ramble, perhaps filling the space where the uncomfortable memory sits before you can let it bother you. It doesn’t help that the air is so quiet. Your mouth moves quick to make it less so. “But... this guy. He’s centuries old, and just lives inside that place. I’d been so excited to have someone who could understand me like that, but then he started saying stuff that made me feel... just, bad for him, I guess. He was so angry and bitter.” 

Taehyun watches you speak, and then nods. Tinged with his sleepy husk, he says, “Not everybody stays good when they live for so long. He let it rot him.” 

“Yeah. It was really like he was rotted. Not bad, I guess,” you say. “It made me worry that I’ll end up that way, someday. Even though we came here differently, I still feel that sort of anger sometimes. I don’t like it, though.” 

“I don’t think you will,” he says. 

His voice feels so strangely soft. You don’t know how to respond to this, coming from him. Long, quiet beats only decorated by the crackling of bushes scraping up and down the windows, fall over you two again. Your gazes intertwine, dancing together in a way that is also different. “Thank you,” you tell him, your voice meek. “I hope that’s true.” 

The longer you’re sat there in Taehyun’s bed, the plush warmth of it and his presence serving as some sort of scarecrow for your pestering thoughts, your eyes grow heavier and your words more useless. Here, in his room and in his presence, it’s as if those thoughts and their terrible claws cannot reach you. You prattle on to him about sleepy nothings, but he doesn’t seem to mind that you’re stealing his sleep from him. He only listens, eyes watching you melt down into something softer on the surface of his bed. 

❆

When you’d woken up this morning, you’d popped up in a frantic flurry. Instead of on your own bed, your dreary eyes were met with the walls of Taehyun’s room. You had fallen asleep in Taehyun’s bed; talked yourself into a solid sleep. You had been so thankful that he was not there when you’d been drug from your slumber by the feel of foreign bedsheets on your skin. 

Even thinking about it now, your ears glow red. Had he been annoyed? You frantically shove those thoughts away. 

There’s a thump from outside. You lean over from your spot on the bed and try to get the best look out you can manage, but it’s at an angle. You see nothing but winter’s flurries there.  

Your head drops back down to the threadbare fabric in hand. Beomgyu, after a long-winded back and forth, had relented to letting you patch up his clothes. Well, just his shirt. When he’d handed it over to you, it had been a valiant internal battle to not run off and drown the thing in soaped water. For now, you settle for just patching up the mangiest bits. It gives you something to be busy with. 

Taehyun has been especially busy lately. You’re not sure why; he doesn’t exactly go around singing about his stresses.  

This time, there’s three resounding and deliberate knocks at the pane of your window. Your working fingers come to a stop, head popping up. A nervous rattle thrums up and down your spine. It could have been a straying tree branch knocking a song with the wind’s encouragement, but they’d been so sure and pronounced. You let the shirt down and slip off the bed. Keeping your approach down to whisper, you creep toward the window. 

Yeonjun, nose gone pink, sits on a sturdy branch. 

For a moment, you stand there taking in the sight of him there; a prince of Faerie, crouched up and in a tangle of branches as he waits for you. It’s absurd. Not only that, it’s dreadful. You’ve done well, tearing yourself away from him. So, so well. Recently, all that hurt has painted its face and made itself anger. At the sight of his face, it sparks in your chest. But it’s a dull, slow flame, oh so reluctant. This anger feels different than other angers. It bothers you so deeply that you can’t place a finger on why. 

And you want to let that anger sit there and fester, hoping that it will work at eroding away your still-connected heartstrings like rot. Even through the glass of the window, you feel them—red and reinforced and tugging you toward him. 

It’s ridiculous. This is ridiculous and pathetic, letting him send you fragmented just with this. You’ve become the sort of girl that you’d snort over in sappy lover’s ballads and odes, the kind that you’d looked down on for their lack of spine. How different it is, when it comes to your turn. Despite it all, you reach out and push the windows open. Even with the sputtering flame you foster, he’s frozen and does not look like he’s going to give up just at this. If you were to pretend he wasn’t there and flop back down into the bed, you think that he might sit there brazen and let the ice freeze him from the inside out. Or, he’ll find some other way to speak with you. The glint in his eyes, the only light reflected in flatness, tells you as much. 

“This isn’t cute, or... romantic, like you think it is, Yeonjun. Not like last time. It’s just hurtful,” you tell him. 

Breath like smoke, Yeonjun says, “I don’t mean to hurt you. It kills me that I do.” His voice is sweet and smooth like malt liquor. It grips your mind in dazzling claws. 

You shake your head, staying a reasonable distance from him and the window. “You’re not supposed to be here. You have to go,” you tell him, pulling the leash to the collar you’ve put on yourself taut. “It’s icy. Climb down safe, please.” 

Of course, that doesn’t budge him. “Not supposed to be here? Why, because you don’t want it, or because he’ll be angry at you?” he says. His pretty face has gone sour. “Look at you. You’ve lost so much weight. He’s not taking care of you, pretty. Come home to me. I know you know where it is; I see the look on your face. I know that you lie to me with your words, but you were never good at hiding your face.” 

You stay rooted to your spot; you won’t be so weak to words again. No matter how sweet and soft they feel against your shining, weeping wounds. He put that hurt there. Leaning into it would just be self-destructive. 

“Please. It hurts both of us to be away, so why do it? I know that I’ve hurt you, and I’ll spend every last of my waking breath letting you know that it was a mistake. I’ll leave it all behind—none of it matters,” he continues. “Make me your servant. Ask me to swear my life away to you, and I’ll drop to my knees and put it on my beating heart right now.”  

Your throat feels dry. He’d swear himself in your service, give you the ability to control him as you will. It’s an unfathomably massive show of trust and dedication. You don’t want that, though. Not one bit. His frantic professions punch you in the gut nonetheless. Had you been losing weight? You haven’t even noticed. Yeonjun did, though—at a glance, he’d known you’ve been hurting.  

“Yeonjun, please. You’re not making this easy for me. Just give it time; we’ll get over it. Eventually, we’ll forget each other,” you say, jaw aching with protest at each heavy word. Now faced with the reality of a much, much longer life, your own words bite you. It means, though, that you have so much time to build yourself up into something solid and beautiful. And, somewhere down the road, you’ll think of this and be unaffected. Won’t that day come any sooner, though? 

“Forget each other?” he says, laugh like poison. “No, we won’t forget each other. Time doesn’t fix it. I promise you that I know that all too well. Our love is not the kind you can forget. It will just hurt forever.” 

“Go on,” you say. “Lie to me again. I want to hear it.” 

Eyes shining and unable to lie, he says, “I love you.” 

Swallowing thickly, you back away and get ready to close the window.  

He climbs in through the window in a quick move. You don’t even have time to protest it before he’s saying, “Ask anything of me. Any last thing that you want of me, but do not ask me to watch you in his arms. I will not.” 

There it is again—that dread. You want it to go easy, but of course it never was going to. “Stop it,” you say, mustering up a shaking finger to point at him. “Stop. Just go.” 

His face goes hard. “That bastard is off to a war camp. Soon. He becomes more like his father every day, doesn’t he?” His soft hands, warm and cradling, find your face. “You don’t have to punish me by being with him. Come be safe. All he’s done is throw you out in the path of danger. If he cared for you, it would have never happened.” 

Darting between his eyes, breaths come quick to you. “What?” you say. It’s the one word you can pull out from the chaos that he’s wrought onto your thoughts. A blizzard erupts, and through the whipping breeze and shards you don’t think to pull away from him or take his hands off of you. 

So, that’s why Taehyun had been busy. What does that even entail for you? Are you going to be here? Does he expect you to pack up and go there with him, to travel for a war that you don’t even care for? 

“All I ever did was protect you, pretty. I know that, in hindsight, it all seems shady. But I promise you that I did. They were never going to hurt you, and neither was I,” he says, his voice thick and strong with conviction. 

Metal rings, the sound of a quick blade being unsheathed.  

“Leave,” Taehyun snarls. He holds his sword at point, right on Yeonjun. It’s an emphatic promise of what he’s capable of and what he’ll do. 

Flame, wild and melting you around the edges, eats up every last bit of oxygen in the room. It leaves none for you to breathe. It crackles and pops between them, where their gazes meet and feed it. Everything else has gone still. Even the wind, it seems.  

Sword held fast and unmoving, Taehyun says, “You send your people into my home, and now you sneak in yourself. I won’t be walked over. Leave now, or you waste my courtesy.” 

So, he’d come to that conclusion as well. He’s so still—his face carved of ice into sharp edges.  

When Yeonjun sends a look your way, you shake your head at him. You have no clue what he’s thinking, but you want none of it. Your stomach does a violent flip. “Yeonjun, go. I want you to go. Please.” 

His features lined with flame; he looks from you to Taehyun. “Your violence will be the fall of you,” he says, jaw tight as he pushes out toward your door. Not without a final glance sent to you, though. The promise you see there is a dreadful one. 

You refuse to meet Taehyun’s daggered look. Beomgyu’s shirt lays forgotten on your bed. You’re half tempted to grab it and resume work; to continue on and escape this. 

“That didn’t take very fucking long, did it?” he says. “Right back into his arms.” 

Your drag your hands down your face. “I didn’t tell him to come here,” you snap. “It’s none of your business who I talk to. How about we talk about you leaving? When did you plan on telling me, huh? I don’t like secrets, Taehyun.” 

Taehyun slips his sword back into the sheath. It clicks back in place. “None of my business?” he says. He repeats the words back at you with an asp’s curl. “When he’s in my home, in your room, it’s my business.” 

“Would you stop?” you say, exhaustion sputtering out your fight. “With Yeonjun, I always know what’s going on. With you? I don’t know what to expect,” you say. “Tell me. When were you going to tell me that you’re going?” 

His face morphs into something different: one of those bone-chilling ones that you don’t know how to explain. He doesn’t answer for a few beats; you can see his mind turning itself over. “This was going to happen. I told you that,” he says. “And I was going to tell you.” 

You let out a long sigh, your shoulders loosening with it, when this time his voice isn’t so venomous. He’d been so busy lately. Being general assured that, especially now that things are moving. “When? How long will you be gone?” you say. “What if something happens to you, Taehyun? What are Beomgyu and I supposed to do?” You include Beomgyu in your proposition, but you’re not sure whether he’d stay with you or run off into the tree line the moment he finds he’s free. Then, really, who would you have? 

“You’ll be there,” he says. “You can come. I prefer it. If you stay here, you’re vulnerable to attacks. This estate is known to be mine, and now that I’ve become the general... I can’t say that it’s safe.” He’s come so close that now his eyes look down on you. They don’t feel acidic on your skin. “And nothing will happen to me. I promise it, nothing will happen to me or you. Or that kelpie. I’ll win this war.” 

Around a thick swallow, you nod.  

You don’t doubt that Taehyun has the skill or the wits to do so. You only can hope that he doesn’t destroy himself trying to prove it; to both you and himself. 

…🪶 ashlynn's note i know, i know. we made big moves this chapter. AHHHH! taehyun…… taehyun…..

﹙🏷️ ﹚ @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[iamawolfstarsimp]

Here's a lil after full moon wolfstar tickle fluff for all you wolfstar simps out there

Hope you like it ^^

The night after the full moon Remus was walking out of the hospital wing with Sirius. Besides a few minor cuts and bruises Remus was okay, just tired.

He and Sirius climbed the stairs up Gryfinndor common room, Sirius recounting all that had happened the previous night. Remus tried to pay attention but felt himself zoning out on accident several times.

"Remus are you listening?" Sirius asked leaning forward to look at his face. Remus blinked a few times before putting on a weary smile.

"Yeah sorry, I just zoned out there for a sec," he laughed. Sirius returned his smile.

"It's okay I understand," Sirius answered. "Hey don't you want to eat dinner?"

Remus shook his head yawning even though he'd spent most of the day sleeping. "N-no I'd rather-" he tried to say but got interrupted by a yawn. Sirius couldn't help but smile at his sleepy boyfriend.

"I'd rather just go up to the dorm and lay down for a bit," Remus mumbled after finishing his yawn.

Sirius nodded. "Alright we can head up there now."

Remus was too tired to ask if Sirius was going to eat and just nodded quietly, walking up the staircase to the portrait of the Fat Lady. After giving her the pass word the two climbed up the stairs to their shared dorm. The other two dorm members were down eating dinner so it was empty.

Remus immediately made a b-line straight to his bed, flopping down into it. He heard Sirius chuckle as he walked over. Remus looked up to see Sirius staring down at him smiling. He couldn't help but blush and hide his face in his mattress.

Sirius sat down on the bed resting his head on the back of the headboard. When Remus looked up Sirius opened his arms for him to crawl into.

He accepted the offer for some cuddles, resting head in Sirius' shoulder. He felt himself fully relax in Sirius' arms, muscles finally releasing built up tension.

After a few minutes of just hugging he felt Sirius start to rub his sides. Remus immediately tensed feeling tingly sparks shooting into his sides from where Sirius' fingers were rubbing.

Sirius then leaned down to kiss Remus' neck while Remus fought not to scrunch up his neck. Silent giggles started to come out of Remus, shoulders shaking.

"Hm? What? What's so funny Moony?" Sirius asked now poking Remus repeatedly in his sides. "What are you giggling at, huh Remus?"

Remus just shook his head now in a giggle fit. He felt Sirius start to scribble on his lower back making Remus arch his back a light squeal coming out. Sirius chuckled at his reaction.

"What's the matter Moony? Are you a little ticklish? Does it tickle?" Sirius teased poking up and down his spine watching Remus reactions to see what would have him laugh the most.

"NAhahaha ihihihit tihickles SihiriHIUS-" Remus squealed as Sirius blew a raspberry on his neck and his hands digging into Remus' sides. Remus burst out laughing trying to sqiurm away from the tickly sensations that were overtaking his body.

Sirius continued to blow raspberries on his neck for a few more moments before stopping and just holding Remus in his arms while Remus panted.

"Aww you're blushing!" Sirius said noticing the bright red across Remus' cheeks. Remus immediately hid his face in his boyfriends shoulder once more.

Remus felt his eyes close as he breathed in Sirius' scent. Sirius kissed the side of Remus' head.

"Night Moony," he murmured "sleep well."

They both soon drifted off to sleep.

^^ hope you liked it

[helloalycia]

lose you [one] // leigh shaw

summary: after Leigh ignores your existence for a few days, you decide to force her out of her room and spend the afternoon with you, but it ends up leading to something more

warning/s: mentions of grief and implied death

author's note: this was requested and I finally got around to watching Sorry For Your Loss (which is so good by the way! i'm so mad it got cancelled), so here is a little Leigh Shaw imagine! It's a three-parter so stay tuned :)

part two | part three | masterlist | wattpad

"Where is she?"

Jules, her sister, pointed up at the ceiling, referring to upstairs, as she finished chewing on a grape. "What did she do now?"

I refrained from rolling my eyes at the reminder that Leigh had been ignoring my calls and texts for the past few days.

"Nothing," I mumbled before leaving her in the kitchen to eat her fruit.

I'd been friends with Leigh long enough to invite myself into her house and let myself head upstairs. When I reached her room, I knocked on the door and tried to hide my impatience with a sigh.

"Jules, I'm not in the mood," her voice grumbled from the other side.

Ever since losing her husband a year ago, Leigh's personality had become more... erratic, if you will. Understanding her mood changes and temper tantrums was a skill in itself, but I was determined to stick by her if it meant she'd be okay. Like now, for example.

"It's not Jules," I called back. She didn't reply, so I said, "You better have clothes on, I'm coming in."

Without wasting a second, I opened the door and found Leigh laying on her bed, thankfully dressed, and looking up at the ceiling. Her room was slightly messy and the curtains were half open, like she'd been in the same position for the past few days. I wouldn't have put it past her.

When I entered, her eyes glanced my way before she continued to stare a hole into the ceiling. I breathed out, unsure what to say.

"Don't look at me like that," she said quietly.

"I wouldn't have to if you'd replied to any of my texts," I retorted, though my tone was anything but harsh.

"I've been busy," she mumbled.

My eyes raked the room once again. "Yeah, I can see that... it's two in the afternoon."

Suddenly, she sat up and narrowed her eyes at me. "Look, if I wanted a lecture, I'd have let Jules in here. If you've not got anything nice to say, you know where the door is."

Rolling my eyes, I ignored her flippant attitude and went to the set of chest drawers pushed against her wall. I rifled through them, earning complaints from behind me, before pulling out some clothes and throwing them at her.

"We're going out," I told her sternly, crossing my arms.

She removed the clothes from her face and gave me a disapproving look. "No, we're not."

"I'm not leaving unless you come with me, so..."

She could be a bitch when she wanted to be, but she knew I could be, too. Our stubbornness was our weakness, since neither of us could back down in a fight. Nowadays, it usually ended with me giving in because I pitied her, but not today. Today I was adamant on cheering her up.

"Fine," she said through a sigh of defeat. "Just get out already."

I smiled victoriously. "See you downstairs."

After waiting for Leigh to get ready and out of the pyjamas I was sure she'd lived in for three days straight, we got in my car and I began to drive.

"Where are we going?" she asked, glancing over at me with mild annoyance, like she'd rather be anywhere but here.

"Not sure yet," I admitted, ignoring the disbelief on her face.

"Then why did you make me come?!" she asked, her attention fully on me now.

I shrugged. "Thought you could use the break." Shoulders relaxing, I added, "I also thought we could spend some time together since we haven't in a while."

I didn't want to say it was because of the fact that she'd been avoiding me, or at least been making no effort to talk to me. I also didn't want to make her feel bad because of those facts, but she seemed to take it personally anyway, resorting to a good old-fashioned Leigh-specialty eye roll.

"I'm not sorry for grieving," she said knowingly, getting comfortable in her seat and looking out the window.

I gripped the steering wheel harder and tried not to let her words make a difference. She had a bad habit of twisting my words or making things seem worse than they were and I knew it was a coping mechanism of hers. She only tried to cope when things got too much, which only confirmed my reason for taking her out today.

"You don't have to be," was all I said, before focusing back on my driving.

—

Halfway through our drive to nowhere, I pulled the roof of the car down so we could feel the wind in our hair and the sun on our backs, since it was a nice day. I also put the radio on, hoping it would ease the tension on Leigh's end of the car.

Pop songs blared through the speakers, some that I knew and some that I didn't. Of course, the ones that I knew I immediately sang along to. Leigh definitely didn't like that, opting to roll her eyes and pretend I wasn't there. But eventually, I knew she wouldn't be able to resist and she began to hum along, making me smile.

On the road that led to nowhere, I noticed a public footpath leading into the forest and decided to take a pit stop, utilising the car park nearby. When Leigh noticed what I was doing, she straightened up and looked around with confusion.

"What are you doing?" she asked, eyes falling to mine.

I tried not to laugh. "We, my friend, are going on a walk."

"You're kidding."

"I'm really not."

I felt her eyes on me as I parked up and turned the engine off. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I opened my car door and met her judgemental gaze, noticing she wasn’t making a move to leave.

"You coming?" I asked with a raised brow.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course," I said, not quite stepping out the car but hanging my feet out. "You can either come with me on a nice walk through the forest, or you can stay here and roast to death in the car because of the heat whilst you wait for me."

"Or I can steal your keys and drive home without you," she offered as a third option, smiling bitterly.

Grin on my lips, I hummed in agreement. "That's also an option, yes."

Letting out a sigh through gritted teeth, she wordlessly got out the car and I smiled with satisfaction, knowing she'd give in. Getting out the car, I stretched my arms before locking the doors and joining Leigh's side. She sulked like a child, but allowed me to lead her to the trail ahead.

It was a lovely day out, warm but with a slight breeze that cooled our skin as we walked. Sunlight peeked through the tall trees, reflecting off the greenery and filling me with a sense of awe as I appreciated mother nature up close and personal.

Glancing over at Leigh, I noticed how she fell into step with me but remained closed off. Hugging herself, she focused on the path ahead and stayed quiet, jaw clenched and lips pursed. Streams of light that shone through the trees shone onto her, spotlighting her and making her hair look golden, blinding but in the best way.

I'd never admit it aloud, but I always loved the way her green eyes sparkled in the light, and even when she turned to glare at me, I felt my heart rate speeding up at how beautiful she looked.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," she said dryly.

Not letting her mood get me down, I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo, making her smack my hand away. I laughed and, for her sake, pretended I didn't see the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"That's one for the books," I teased, putting my phone away.

"It's fine, I have plenty of you," she mumbled.

I smiled to myself but said nothing. We continued to walk through the woods, following the trail and myself remembering every turn we made so we could make it back the right way. There were a few other people out, but we passed them with a quick hello (from myself since Leigh was still sulking) and moved on.

Twenty minutes into our peaceful walk, I noticed a wooden footbridge up ahead, possibly built over a stream. Excited, I stopped and looked to Leigh who noticed I wasn't beside her and turned around to see what was up.

"Why d'you stop?" she asked, pulling her hair up into a ponytail impatiently.

I smiled eagerly. "I'll race you to the bridge."

"Y/N," she breathed out, raising her eyebrows. "We're not kids."

I walked forward slowly, smile fading into a frown. "Fine. Sorry for trying to liven things up."

She rolled her eyes and continued to walk beside me in silence. But my pace picked up, as did hers, and I exchanged glances with her, realising she was walking faster than usual. Before I knew it, we were breaking into a run, trying to reach the bridge before each other.

"Thought you didn't wanna race!" I said between heavy breaths.

"I don't!" she called back, her pace picking up as she managed to get ahead.

I sucked up a breath and pushed on, tailing her as she reached the bridge. When she got there, she began to cheer and point at me obnoxiously.

"Ha! I win!" she said with a grin, as I slowed down and bent over to catch my breath. "Sucks to be you."

Her laughter filled my ears as I straightened up, hands on my hips. She looked so happy, even if it was momentarily, and I watched her with adoration, not even caring that I'd lost. She was stunning when she was smiling and I could only hope she'd do it more as time went on.

"I let you win," I joked, waving my hand dismissively.

"Sure you did," she played along, leaning on the bridge's railing as she watched me with amusement.

"You literally exercise for a living," I told her with a shrug. "S'not fair."

"Whatever," she said with an eye roll, smile still dancing on her lips as she turned around to look over the bridge. A gasp escaped her lips as she said, "Wow."

I joined her side, holding the railing to see what had taken her breath away. Then I saw it. A stream ran beneath us and was framed by some beautiful flowers and tall, transcending trees whose branches curled outwards and were covered in green leaves. The sun's rays filtered down through the leaves and made the water look like it was sparkling, rippling with every rock it pushed past.

"Looks like something out of a children's book," I said with disbelief, smile of amazement on my lips.

Leigh hummed in agreement and I glanced at her, seeing a similar expression on her face. Glad she was in a better mood, I looked back to the picturesque view before us and leaned on the railing, merely appreciating the sight.

"This is nice," Leigh said quietly, after a moment.

I tilted my head to get a look at her. She was already looking my way, leaning on her arms and meeting my gaze.

"Thanks, I put it all together myself," I said playfully, making her nudge me with her elbow as I chuckled.

"I'm serious," she said, before looking ahead again. "It is."

Knowing that was her way of saying thank you without actually saying it, I nodded in agreement. "It is."

We admired the sight for a few more minutes before deciding to head back, taking our time as we followed the route I remembered. Leigh was a little less tense this time, seeming to relax into her surroundings a little more. She even had a smile on her face at times which was all I wanted.

"You hungry?" I asked when we reached the car park.

"I guess I could eat," she said with a shrug.

"Well, according to this sign," I said, pointing to a board beside the start of the footpath, "there's a café a little way down the road. Wanna go?"

She motioned for me to go first. "After you."

Green eyes shone bright with amusement as she looked to me with a suppressed smile. Losing my words, surprisingly startled by her gaze, I cleared my throat and took the lead, making her laugh.

I sometimes wondered if she knew the effect she had on me or if she just liked catching me off guard. Maybe it was both.

—

After having a late lunch, or early dinner depending on how you saw it, Leigh and I got back in my car and I began to drive us back to hers. It was quiet, just like our meal was and just like she'd been for most of the afternoon. I was fine with that, I guess, but I felt like she was holding something in.

Turning off the radio, I earned her attention.

"You should try screaming," I suggested casually.

"Excuse me?"

I felt her eyes boring into me with confusion as I got comfortable in my seat. Looking in the rear view mirror, I noticed there were no cars behind us or in front of us. The road was empty as I drove on the edge of one of the many beautiful cliff-sides in Los Angeles.

"Scream," I repeated to Leigh. "It'll feel good. Watch."

Wasting no time, I began to scream at the top of my lungs, being sure to stay focused on driving at the same time. My voice flew into the air as my car sped down the road, leaving me feeling liberated.

"Geez, a warning would be nice!" Leigh snapped, uncovering her ears when I was done.

I laughed. "I did say to scream." Giving her a sideways glance, I added, "Come on. Try it with me. On the count of three."

"This is stupid," she decided, leaning back into her seat and pushing her hair from her eyes as the wind blew it about.

"No, it's not," I said with certainty. "Three."

"Y/N."

"Two."

"Stop it."

"One."

"Y/N!"

I looked to her with a grin before screaming at the top of my lungs. When I didn't hear her join in, I stopped and pouted.

"You gonna leave me hanging?" I asked, looking between her and the road. "C'mon. Last chance."

"Y/N–"

"Three. Two. One."

This time, to my surprise, she joined in and we screamed together, our voices echoing into the hills around us. It was exciting, thrilling and freeing all at once. Once we were out of breath, we stopped and caught it back.

"Felt good, right?" I asked with a grin.

She began to laugh, quietly, slowly, then loudly and hysterically, making me join in. Though, when my laughter faded, I realised she was still laughing, and then I looked over to her and saw tears streaming down her cheeks. With concern, I reached over to comfort her, but stopped when I realised it was weird to do, even for a friend.

"Leigh, I'm sorry, I–"

"No, no, it's fine, I'm fine," she cut me off, wide smile still on her lips as she wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her jumper. "They're happy tears. Y/N. They're happy tears."

I furrowed my brows with confusion, eyes flickering between the road and Leigh. "Are you– are you sure? Because it's okay if–"

"I'm okay," she promised, resting a hand on my arm. "I am. And the screaming helped. You were right."

I almost made a joke about how I'm always right, but my concern for her, despite the smile she wore, was still present. Teary eyes watched me with reassurance and she squeezed my arm gently before getting comfortable in her seat.

"Okay, if you're sure," I said, still uncertain.

We continued driving when I noticed the sun setting and decided to stop the car off to the side of the road. The hills were the perfect place to watch the sunset since it had a perfect view of the city whilst leaving enough space to see the sky in all its glory.

"Now why are we stopping?" she asked, though her voice didn't carry the same venom it did earlier.

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked rhetorically, getting out the car and motioning to the view before us. "We're gonna watch the sun set!"

I thought she'd put up a fight or complain like she had with everything I'd been recommending today, but to my ease, she simply got out the car and joined me. The two of us leaned against the car door as we watched the sun dipping into the horizon, casting an orange-pink hue across the skyline and the few clouds in the sky. It always reminded me of a watercolour painting, like someone had dipped their paintbrush in water and dragged it across the sky.

"Thank you for today," Leigh said, pulling me from my admiration. "I actually had a really nice time. As in, the part I spent with you and not the part where I moped around in bed."

I gave her a half smile. "Anytime, Leigh."

She winced, shaking her head in disagreement. "No, I mean it, Y/N. For everything, not just this." She paused, and I tried to ignore the way the last of the sun's rays made her skin glow and eyes shine brighter than anything I'd ever seen. "You've been here for me, even a year later when other people would have left."

"That's what friends are for," I reminded her, and her eyes flickered to mine, holding a million questions that I couldn't decipher.

"I'm not the best company," she admitted.

"You're not that bad," I said dismissively.

"I wouldn't want to be around me," she continued.

"Who likes to be left alone with themselves anyway?" I said jokingly, making her sigh discontentedly. Smile fading, I lost my humour for the moment. "You're not as bad as you think. And even if you were, I'd still stick around."

She locked her jaw, looking down to her shoes silently. I crossed my arms and looked back to the sun, it lowering into the horizon further and further as each second passed.

"I didn't mean to force today onto you," I said hesitantly. "I just– you didn't reply to any of my messages and I was worried."

She scratched the back of her head awkwardly. "I haven't really checked my phone."

"I figured." Finger playing with my shirt mindlessly, I said, "I got a promotion at work. That's–" I cleared my throat. "That was why I called you the first time."

She looked up, eyes wide with apology. "Oh my God. Y/N, I'm so sorry! That's amazing! I should have–"

"It's okay," I reassured her with a small smile, dropping my arms to my side. "I just wanted to tell you because, well... I just wanted to tell you."

I wanted to tell her because that's what we did. We told each other everything. She was the first person that came to mind when anything good happened in my life. Of course, with everything going on, it was hard to tell her the good stuff when she was going through so much.

"I'm so proud of you," she said softly, and I looked her way when she grabbed my hand. "You worked really hard for this promotion and I knew you'd get it."

A smile crept onto my lips at her words. "Thank you, Leigh. You know that means a lot."

She nodded, mirroring my expression, before squeezing my hand gently. I wanted to look away after a few seconds, but she was still holding my gaze, eyes piercing mine as if conflicted. I suddenly became hyper-aware of her hand in mine, fingers gently tugging mine subconsciously, and the way her shoulder brushed against mine, the contact so natural I almost didn't realise it was there.

When I finally decided to break our staring contest, deciding I'd never know what was going on in her head, she took me by surprise and pulled me forward before kissing me. Her lips pressed to mine quickly, hand letting go and resting on the back of my neck dominantly.

It happened so quickly, my mind working overtime as it tried to decipher Leigh's soft lips against mine, the shiver that ran down my spine from her hand on my neck, the tenderness of her cheek as it came into contact with my nose. I didn't even get chance to react, to kiss her back like I wanted, as she pulled away in an instant.

Seemingly startled by her own actions, she let go of my neck and took a step back. I already missed the contact, my lips feeling cold as she pulled away. I, myself, was taken aback, still frozen with shock at the fact that she'd just kissed me.

"Th– that was a friendly kiss, obviously," she stuttered out, eyes avoiding mine.

I licked my lips awkwardly. "Yeah, obviously..."

"To say thanks," she added unconvincingly. "Y'know?"

"Mhm."

Neither of us looked up as we stood apart trying to understand what happened. Why did she do that? Did she actually want to? Was she caught up in the moment or was she just seeking comfort? I wasn't sure. But I knew I wished I had reacted quicker than I had.

"We should go home," she mumbled.

I nodded in agreement. "Right. Yeah. Home."

The two of us got back into my car, neither of us saying anything as I drove her back to her place. The radio played quietly in the background, filling the uncomfortable silence that formed between us, and I hated that a good day had ended on a bad note.

Pulling up outside her house, I chewed on the inside of my mouth with discomfort. She cleared her throat and still didn't look my way as she spoke.

"Thanks again for today," she said, before opening the door. "I'll, er, see you whenever."

I nodded, eyes focused on the steering wheel. "See you. I, erm–" I wanted to say something about the kiss, but she clearly didn't and I didn't want to piss her off. So, I said, "Tell Jules and your mum I said hi."

"Will do..."

With that, she got out the car and headed to her front door, leaving me sat there for a moment as I tried to comprehend the situation I was now in.

Why did Leigh have to be so confusing?

[outerbankswriting]

Could it be? Chapter 11 (JJ x Reader)

JJ x Reader

CH.1 - CH.2 - CH.3 - CH.4 - CH.5 - CH.6 - CH.7 - CH.8 - CH.9 - CH.10

Description: She has a crush on JJ, but he has always seen her as another one of the “dudes”, or  at least that’s what she thinks so she just doesn’t even try anymore, until things start to shift between the two of them. (A/N: I’M NOT GOOD AT DESCRIPTIONS BUT THESE IS JUST WHAT I WOULD LOVE TO HAPPEN IN OUTER BANKS WITH JJ)

A/N: THIS CHAPTER GOT DELETED BC TUMBLR WANTED TO MAKE ME CRY FOR A BIT SO I HAD TO REPOST..

Warnings: mentions of sexual trauma

CHAPTER 11

You shot a glance at Sarah once she finished spilling all your business. You watched as she gave you an innocent smile after realising you didn’t want everyone to know about Rafe yet.

“Look, I can explain alright?” You sighed as you reached for a beer. It was going to be a long day.

“Please do.” Kie muttered, raising her eyebrow at you.

You looked at JJ who was staring straight into your eyes, you couldn’t tell if he was hurt or angry but either of those options made your stomach twist.

“He promised that if I faked it for a night, he would leave all of us alone which means th-”

“And you believed him?” Pope was quick to cut you off.

“Why would you even trust Rafe Cameron in the first place?” John B added.

“If you would all stop interrupting me, then maybe I would be able to clear your doubts.” You spat coldly at your friends.

“Go on then.” Kie nodded.

“It’s just for the night, so he can be on the clear with his father and have no problems whatsoever,” you bit your lip, “after that I’m completely done with him.”

The silence was broken by JJ’s sarcastic laugh, making you immediately stare at his movements.

“Well I think it’s bullshit,” he gulped down his beer before standing up, “and if you’re trusting Rafe Cameron, then you can’t be trusted either.”

His words hit you like a thousand knives on the chest.

He definitely felt betrayed by you but his anger was stronger than the pain he was feeling. He tossed the empty beer on the sand, ignoring Kie’s complaining and gave you a final glare before walking away from the group.

“JJ,” you sighed and rushed to walk towards him, ignoring whatever your friends were complaining about as well, “JJ wait!”

You tried to walk faster towards him but the sand wasn’t letting you catch up to his pace.

“JJ stop!” You yelled a little louder but he kept walking.

You decided to run towards him, ignoring how ridiculous you looked trying to run in the sand for trying to chase a guy.

“JJ let me talk to you.” You grabbed his arm making him turn to face you.

His eyes drifted to the sea, not bothering to look at yours.

He was stubborn and you knew him too well to know how whenever he gets angry, his mind becomes clouded with his own thoughts, not bothering to listen or try to understand anything.

“Do you honestly think I want to talk to you right now?” He spat out.

But he was not the only stubborn one here, you were not going to let him leave without first making him listen to you.

“I want you to listen.”

“I don’t want to listen.” His jaw clenched and he pulled his arm away from you.

You were starting to get annoyed but you couldn’t blame him for feeling this way.

“JJ stop walking away from me!”

“You listen to me!” He raised his voice at you as he walked closer to you, your eyes starting to water at his actions, “I cannot trust you if you keep lying to my face!”

“I never lied to you JJ!”

“You said you were not going back to him!”

“I’m not!”

“Then why the fuck are you going as his girlfriend to the stupid party?!”

His eyes were filled with anger and your face probably looked like the one of a scared puppy since JJ’s features softened at the realisation of how loud he was raising his voice at you and how he was projecting his anger.

“I just can’t believe how you can still trust him after everything he’s done.” He lowered his voice but the anger still hadn’t left him.

“Nothing’s going to happen between us JJ,” you slowly walked closer to him, afraid he was going to walk away at any second, “I’m not going to let it happen.”

JJ licked his lips while shaking his head in frustration, he tried to avoid eye contact with you but failed once you softly caressed his cheek, making him calm down a bit.

“If that asshole lays a finger on you, I promise I’m going to kill him.” He muttered as his breathing got slower.

“Sarah is going to be there,” you said and grabbed his hand, “and so will my parents JJ. It’s just one night and then Rafe will be out of our lives.”

His eyes softened as you kept caressing his cheek and holding his hand. You watched as he slightly nodded, knowing he was still not trusting Rafe.

“Let’s go home okay?” You whispered before giving him a light kiss.

The two of you went to your house, not really bothering on letting your friends know you weren’t going back to the beach. You were probably going to send a text later to Kie explaining her everything. Right now all you cared about was calming JJ down and letting him know things were going to be alright.

Once you were in the comfort of your bedroom you decided to grab some beers from the fridge to loosen up a bit and forget the tension that had built a few minutes ago.

You knew JJ was still upset and angry since he wasn’t really talking.

“Last to finish their beer has to cook dinner.” You playfully winked at him before taking a big gulp of your beer.

You noticed JJ take a sip of his beer, not really following your little game to cheer things up.

“JJ come on,” you sat down on the bed next to him, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you last night.”

“It’s not only that Y/N,” he said softly this time, “it’s the fact you always tell me your relationship with him was bad and I know there’s something about him you’ve been hiding from me.”

You didn’t know what to say so you just stared at your bed covers.

“Do you see?” JJ went on, “How can I trust you completely if you can’t even trust me?”

“I do trust you JJ,” you sighed, “I just,”

You took a deep breath, thinking about the right way to tell him.

“I have never talked about this to anyone because it scares me.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he moved closer to you.

“What do you mean Y/N?” He softly grabbed your hand.

“I just don’t know how to say it.” Your voice trembled and you felt your eyes start to tear up, JJ immediately cupping your face.

“Hey Y/N,” he whispered, “you can trust me, I’ll take care of you.”

You stared at his eyes while letting a few tears fall down your face. The two of you had already seen each other at your most vulnerable times and that’s what had made you feel so close to him.

You knew you had to tell JJ, you knew it was time to let it out, even if it scared you and even if you knew JJ would probably lose his shit.

You took a deep breath.

“I didn’t really want to do it with him,” your voice was low and soft and you noticed JJ’s jaw clench as he realised what you were talking about, “but I didn’t know how to tell him.”

You fought back the tears as you remembered the first time you had sex with Rafe and how you knew you weren’t ready but he somehow convinced you.

“It’s not like I told him I didn’t want to,” your voice trembled again, “I just let him do it because he was my boyfriend at the time even though I didn’t want to, and after the first time I didn’t want to do it again, but when I told him he got mad at me and he started hanging out with other girls so I just,”

You paused to stare at JJ, his eyes were once again filled with anger but there were also tears in them. His hand was still holding yours tightly, giving you the trust and confidence to keep going.

“I just did it again with him until I learnt to kind of enjoy it I guess? But there were more times I didn’t want to do it than times I did want to, and it just haunts me.”

You let the tears fall down as you felt a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

“JJ?” You asked once you noticed he remained silent, his eyes filled with tears and not leaving yours.

“That piece of shit.” He muttered as he trembled with rage.

“JJ,”

“I’m going to kill him.” He spat out coldly.

“JJ I told you this because I trust you, please,” you cupped his face, “stay out of this.”

“Are you kidding me Y/N?” He raised his eyebrows at you, “My fist on his face is the least I could to him to make him pay for what he did.”

“He never forced me to do it.”

“But he manipulated you Y/N.”

“I know that now,” you sighed, “but I didn’t know that back then.”

He nodded and bit his lip but you grabbed his face and made him stare straight into your eyes.

“I’m a different person now JJ, I’ve learnt from it.”

Just when his tears were about to fall down his face, he wrapped his arms around you, making you let out all the tears you were fighting back and feeling safe in his embrace.

“I will never hurt you Y/N,” he sobbed against your neck, “I’ll always take care of you.”

You weren’t even able to let out the words you wanted to tell him, you wanted to tell him how much you loved him but the words just wouldn’t come out because of your loud sobbing.

“I’ll be there.” He whispered once he let go of the embrace and cupped your face.

“What are you talking about?” You asked while wiping away the last tears falling from his eyes.

“I’m going to the party and I’ll be watching over you and I don’t care if your parents hate me for that.”

You smiled with tears in your eyes before nodding and softly placing your lips against his.

———————-

CH.12

A/N: I touched a pretty sensitive topic this chapter and I really want to talk about this. unwanted consensual sex (also known as gray zone sex) is a thing that happens to so many people and it’s not talked about enough. one of my closest friends experienced this and it has affected her sexual relationships deeply. if you’ve ever been through something like this please know that you’re not alone and you can always talk to me. you should never feel pressured to do sexual intercourse or any other sexual activities by anyone, not even your partner.

sorry for all the mess that’s been going on with my tumblr, I honestly don’t know what happened but tumblr support apparently already fixed it...

thank u so much if you’re still reading this story, means a lot!

——————–

[silvermoonflowers]

Moonflower

Priestess!Reader x Demon!Bucky

  Summary: Sometimes what you seek is from the most unexpected.

Warnings: Hints of sorrow and the beginning of a forbidden love between a priestess and a demon. 

A hush fell over the residence. The only sounds that were heard were of several people walking among the corridors, looking tired and wary. Occasionally, someone would approach a window and peek through the curtains, as if they were expecting the worst to come.

But so far, everything seemed alright. Or at least that’s what you thought.

You were currently in a room near the central part of the residence, which was thought to be the safest place away from the entrance. There were charms that hung from the ceiling and scented candles surrounded you. But there was one candle sitting on a nightstand next to the bed that wasn’t ignited. You lit it using a torn piece of paper and a flame from another candle. You set your bow and arrows beside the nightstand. Then you sat on the bed, stretching out your aching arms in relief. But you still had to be on guard. You might never know when they would appear.

Just as you were about to lay down, there was a knock, which you made jump. The door creaked opened and Steve appeared, which made you put a hand to your chest. You had thought that one of them had appeared already. Steve rubbed the back of his head and gave you a sheepish smile when he noticed how tense you were.

“Forgive me for startling you, Priestess. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You sat further in the bed, pulling your knees to your chest as you said, “I’m fine. What about you, Steve?”

His lips formed a thin line.

“It seems all is well...for now. Sam and Clint didn’t see anything in the forest and Wanda didn’t sense anything either. Perhaps these charms really are helping-”

“Oh? Is that you really think, Captain?”

Your blood went cold at the sound of the deep voice that seemed to echo in the residence while Steve looked around frantically, his hand immediately grasping for his sword. You could hear the others shouting your name and Steve’s from the corridors. With his weapon brandished in one hand, Steve held out his other hand, motioning for you to come. However you sat rigid on the bed, your face pale and your hands gripping the covers tightly.

A demon was here already?

“Priestess!” Steve cried out as he ran to you.

But before Steve could come any closer, a cold wind swept around the room. All of the candles were blown out, swallowing you and Steve in darkness while the charms fell to the floor, seemingly cut by the gale. There was a sudden gasp from Steve and then something heavy hit the floor. He had collapsed. That was enough to break you out of your shock.

“Steve!”

“Relax, my dear Priestess. He and the rest of your friends are simply unconscious.”

You leapt out of bed and grit your teeth, glaring into the darkness trying to find the demon that somehow entered the residence. As much as you wanted to check on Steve and the others, you had to get rid of the source of the problem first. It was only then that you noticed that there was a small light from the corner of your eye. You turned to it.

It was the candle that you had lit. It somehow stayed alight even with the strong wind that the demon sent. But that small light was enough for you. Using the candle as a guide, you inched towards the nightstand until you were able to find your bow and arrows.

“Show yourself, demon,” You stated coldly as you aimed an arrow into the darkness. “How did you even get in here?” There was a chuckle, which made you grip the arrow even tighter.

“Please, you guys need to find better charms. I’m surprised the sorceress didn’t come up with an even stronger spell to ward off someone like me. But I suppose extreme tiredness can do that to humans. However, I am not here to give you any trouble, my dear Priestess.”

Ah yes, the typical statement of demons saying they mean “no harm”. Just hearing that ironic statement made you roll your eyes.

“That’s what they all say, “ You snapped, threatening to shoot the arrow straight at him. “Now show yourself!”

As if responding to your demand, footsteps could be heard. You quickly placed yourself in front of Steve, your grip on the arrow tightening even further. That was when he appeared. Despite there being only one lit candle in the looming darkness, somehow you could make out his features.

He was tall, with dark shoulder length hair and a very well built body. And oh, those eyes of his. They were such a beautiful pair of bluish-gray eyes. His clothes seemed to blend in with the darkness. The alluring appearance of the demon made you loosen your grip on the arrow, but only for a bit. Conflict arose within you. He looked so human compared to the horrifying demons that you and your friends had previously encountered. But a small part of your mind whispered to you that what you’re seeing is probably the demon taking on the appearance of a human, just to trick you so you could fall for his trap.

He smirked, which only seemed to confirm your suspicions.

“Finally, we’re alone together, Priestess of the Silver Moon. ”You weren’t in the mood for his sweet talk. “You’ve been following us, haven’t you? What do you want?”

He simply held up a hand. “Relax.”

Relax, he says. With your patience running thin, you released the arrow. The demon hissed and melted into the shadows while the arrow hit the wall instead. You huffed. That was a waste of a good arrow. Had you been a bit quicker, you would’ve successfully slayed the demon. You reached for another arrow.

A gasp left your throat as you felt a cold hand on your shoulder.

How’d he even get close to you without you noticing?!

“Like I said, my dear, I’m not here to give you trouble.” His voice was soft, so soft, that it made your knees falter. A cold hand oh so slowly slid down the length of your arm and you shuddered involuntarily. You wanted to snatch your arm away from his light touch. He was a demon. One that could cause your downfall. “Please do not attack me. Let me speak.”

Your consciousness screamed at you that he was lying and that it was a trick. That he would claim you. However, after all this time, he had yet to actually harm you. Perhaps he really meant it? You weren’t even sure why you were trusting this demon in the first place. Letting out a sigh, your lowered your bow and turned to him. But you didn’t look at him. You stared at the floor instead. The demon gently brushed a strand of your hair aside. Even with that comforting gesture, you still didn’t look at him. Had you looked at him, you would’ve seen how concerned he was.

“As to your answer to your questions, yes I was following you guys. However I just happened to notice when you guys were at the pond. I have heard many stories about the Golden Sun and Silver Moon Priestesses, but I have never actually seen them before. But now, here you are standing before me. Of course, I had to make your friends unconscious so there would be no interference.”

You weren’t even sure why he was telling you this and you just wanted him to get to the point. He seemed to sense that. “I happened to hear about your problem.”

“Eh?” You immediately looked up, which you regretted. However you saw no malice in his beautiful eyes. He gave you a kind smile instead, which you found a bit strange considering his true nature.

“You are searching for a moonflower, correct? A flower that will help your sister who is ill.”

Your breath hitched and your bow clattered beside Steve.

“Y-you..”

The demon nodded.

“The moonflower, a flower that has healing properties and is most difficult to find because it blooms only once a year.”

He leaned in towards you, his hair tickling your cheek and his lips nearly touching your ear. You couldn’t help but shudder at how close he was.

“I do, indeed, have a moonflower.” At that statement, it seemed like all the tension left your body. You wanted to cry. Not out of agony, but in relief. You had searched for so long, even to the point of exhaustion, but you could never find it. And now you finally found a moonflower. But was the demon telling the truth? You held back your tears as you looked at the demon straight in his face.

He held out his hand and you gasped. There, floating in water and encased in a small glass vial, was the moonflower. It was so beautiful. You watched with fascination as the white petals seem to glimmer under the lit candle . But was it real or was it a fake? Your eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“It is real. I assure you, Priestess.”

With shaking hands, you took the encased flower and held it close to your chest. You let out a breath that you didn’t realize that you’d been holding.

“T-thank you so much…”

Now your sister could finally be healed. The demon nodded and took a few steps back. However you still needed some answers.

“W-wait...why…why are you doing this for me?”

He didn’t reply at first. He simply stared at you. You stared back. Then he let out a sad smile.

“My dear, I’m not like other demons, if that’s what you’re thinking. You also happen to intrigue me. I can see you have a past that is hidden from your friends. A past that is full of pain and sorrow.”

You held the vial even tighter. You weren’t even going to question as to how he knew about your past. He was a demon after all. You just wanted to know why he was bringing that up now?

“I, too, have a painful past,” He said gently, brushing his hand across your shoulder. “Perhaps, you and I are kindred spirits?”

A demon with a sad past? You weren’t even sure if that was possible. Most demons you heard and seen were monstrous compared to him. But then again, he wasn’t like most demons.

“I have to go now. Your friends will wake up soon and I cannot stay any longer.

“Wait!” He raised an eyebrow at your sudden harsh tone. You gave him an apologetic look.

“What is your name, please?”

He hesitated before saying it. “James.”

“James…”

He gently took your hand and pressed his cold lips to it. You were thankful that the darkness was able to hide your blushing face. Although considering the supernatural abilities of demons, he probably saw it anyways. “We shall again meet again, my dear Priestess. That I promise. Now I wish you and your friends the best of luck and for your sister to be healed.”

Then just as he appeared from the darkness, James faded into it, leaving you standing there, clutching the moonflower and staring at the spot where he disappeared. You had continued standing there, even when a groan could be heard from behind you.

“Priestess…?” Steve said groggily. “A-are you okay? Did...did you kill the demon?”

But you didn’t reply as you were lost in your own thoughts. A single tear ran down your cheek as you held up the moonflower. You still had so many questions for James. You wanted to know him better. Perhaps you even wanted him to be with you and your friends. And yet the short amount of time took that away. Why were you feeling this way, you weren’t even sure anymore.

But there was one statement that haunted you now.

Perhaps, you and I are kindred spirits?

[erin-bo-berin]

Day Off

MASTERLIST

Not going to lie, I picked the gif for this fic simply because of his bedhead, but that’s besides the point. This was inspired by the episode Saturday where he had the day off work, just this is way more smutty and a tad bit fluffy. Hope you enjoy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 4,261

“Did you say a day off?” 

You pause your drying of a plate, turning toward your boyfriend with an arched brow.

Spencer sat at the island eating his dinner—late as usual, while you emptied the dishwasher in preparation to load it again.

“Yup,” he mumbled, his mouth full of food as he scarfed down his first helping of your infamous Mexican chili lime chicken.

“Spence, do you even know what to do with yourself with a day off of work?”

You turn your back to him again as you resume drying dishes, bending down to retrieve another plate.

“Not really,” he shrugged, “What do you want to do?”

“Stay in bed all day honestly,” you chuckled, glancing at the time.

It was nearly midnight, a common time for him to be having his dinner when he was actually in town. You would often stay awake just to spend some time with him.

Working in the FBI meant Spencer worked many long days, leaving very little time for you two to be together. As a writer, it wasn’t unusual for you to get very little sleep between staying up to spend time with him and writing. It was difficult, both the crazy sleep schedule and your relationship, but you made it work.

A smirk graced his face as he took another bite.

“Sounds good to me.”

•

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake the next morning, but you automatically know something is different.

For one, Spencer isn’t beside you.

He’s under the covers.

Your silk nightgown has been pushed up to your stomach, your underwear pulled down around your ankles.

You’ve quite literally woke up with his head between your legs.

“Morning babe,” he grins against your thigh before kissing it gently.

You move the sheet so you can see him and he peers up at you innocently.

His brown curls are in a tousled array on his head, clearly from sleeping; the several days worth of scruff you’d been nagging him to shave suddenly ten times sexier than you’d even realized. 

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes and a small smile on his lips. Your stomach flips, your arousal forming deep within you at the sight. 

“What are you doing?”

His lips move closer to your inner thigh, leaving gentle kisses before he answers.

“You said you wanted to stay in bed, so I thought I’d make that possible.”

He kisses your slit gently, teasing you just enough, making you bite your lip.

“Oh?”

“Besides, it’s not like we get to do this everyday,” he answered.

His tongue glides up your slit, making you inhale sharply before you can answer him.

“True.” 

Your voice quivers, the anticipation apparent in the one word.

A quiet moan escapes your lips when his tongue flicks your clit. He’s always good at knowing what you want, even if he liked to tease you and make you wait for it.

His touch leaves you completely and you groan unable to believe that he’s worked you up just to mess with you. 

“Now, now, sweetheart. Patience is important.” 

You half wish you could knock the smirk off his face, but he’s so sexy and adorable at the same time that you can’t find the energy to care. It’s been only minutes since you’ve woken, but now you’re fully awake and throbbing with a ravenous desire, ready for him to do whatever he’s planning to, with you.

His hands splay over your thighs, giving them a gentle squeeze before he leans down, his tongue delving deep within you. You curse, your body already trembling in reaction to his mouth. 

He recedes a few moments later, hands gliding up over your stomach and under your nightgown until they’ve reached your breasts. His mouth returns to your clit, flicking it repeatedly, his hands massaging at the same time.

“Fuck, Spence,” you moan, your head falling back against your pillow.

One hand covers his on your breast, rubbing the mound simultaneously with his hand while the other tangles in his hair as he tantalizes you with his mouth.

His lips enclosed around it, sucking gently before adding more pressure, occasionally alternating between licks and flicks against it. You know he can hear your increasing moans, your release building in the depths of you.

“Don’t stop, Spencer,” you half whine, half moan, inadvertently pushing his head closer to you.

The tension has built up quickly this time, partially from the excitement of this out of the ordinary intimacy. You can feel the sensation deep within you like a balloon filled with too much air, ready to pop. You’ll be damned if he’s gonna stop on you now. 

He hums against you at your warning and you fall over the edge, your eyes squeezing shut and your legs tightening around his neck. 

Your breathing is ragged as you untangle from one another and he pulls your underwear back up in place, kissing your stomach softly. 

His hands gently pull your sleeping attire back down to cover you and climbs back up to the top of the bed. Pushing a strand of hair out of your face, he kisses your forehead.

“What a wake up call,” you murmur, sleepy all over again, “What time is it?”

“Still early. Around 6:30. Sorry, force of habit,” he chuckles, pulling the covers over you.

“Go back to sleep, okay?”

You nod, succumbing to your drowsiness. You feel his lips on your cheek as you shut your eyes and eventually fall back asleep.

-

You wake to a gentle shake of your shoulder. You’re not sure how much later it is, but the smell of fresh made pancakes fills your nostrils.

“Up for some breakfast in bed?” Spencer grins, holding a plate of pancakes out to you.

Your brows raise and you take the plate from him, sitting up and setting it in your lap. They’re chocolate chip, with no syrup, just butter and a tad of whipped cream, your favorite.

“Did you make these?” you asked.

You pick up the fork and take a bite, closing your eyes in bliss at the warm, chocolaty, delicacy.

“Why yes, I did.”

He grinned, sliding into bed next to you, with his own plate.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Spence, but I didn’t even know you knew how to make pancakes.”

He full on laughs, almost choking on his bite.

“Hey, I’m not that terrible of a cook!”

“Well, you just don’t cook that much is what I meant,” you said, “Really though, who taught you?”

“Okay JJ and Garcia may have helped once, but that’s all I’m saying.”

You snicker, taking another bite.

“Regardless, these are amazing.”

“Thank you,” he beamed, stealing a finger swipe of your whipped cream.

You pretend to act offended, but you’re still smiling. It’s not often that you get to spend mornings like this and it’s extremely nice.

“Now, what show would you like to binge? I know you said you need to catch up on a few of your shows.”

You looked at him like he’d suddenly grown wings and started flying.

“What’s all this? First a sexy wake up call, breakfast in bed and now I get to pick the show?”

“I told you, it’s your day in bed and it’s all about pleasing you,” Spencer said pecking your cheek.

His lips moved just slightly towards your ear, his hand sliding across your thigh.

“In more ways than just one,” his words come huskily in your ear.

Then he pulls back, as if he didn’t just give you chills from head to toe, resuming to eat his pancakes.

“Besides,” he continues, obliviously, “You deserve this, Y/N. You’ve put up with so much with me and work. Cancelled plans, always traveling, late nights. I wanted to spoil you.”

You smile, watching him eat, awed at how sweet he was and you tell him so, thanking him.

“Anything for my best girl.”

He picks up the remote, turning on Netflix.

“So, Law and Order: SVU or The Walking Dead?”

“The Walking Dead,” you answer immediately.

“Good. I don’t know how you can watch SVU, I see enough of that stuff at work,” he shakes his head.

You smile to yourself. That was precisely why you chose what you did.

•

“Never thought I’d be watching a former cop kill zombies on my day off,” Spencer mused.

“Walkers,” you correct him from the other end of the bed.

You’d made yourself comfortable, laying on your stomach towards the end of the bed, half lying on the pillow that you were clutching to your chest. Spencer sat against the headboard, his hands behind his head, watching with you.

You both still remained in your pajamas, your dirty breakfast dishes on the nightstand, forgotten. 

He nudged your leg with his foot.

“Hey, don’t tease me. I don’t usually have time to keep up with shows.”

“True.”

“Besides, when you’re having writer’s block or procrastinating writing, you always turn to Netflix.”

He moves down the bed towards you, hands sliding up your arms and on your shoulders as he kisses your cheek.

“Guilty,” you mumbled.

His hands start massaging your shoulders gently for a few seconds.

“Mmm, that feels good.”

“Dang, baby, you’re tense.”

He frowns, his fingers rubbing with a tad more pressure.

“Book deadlines are stressing me lately. I just barely made this last one,” you groan, partly from the thought and partly from his hands ridding the knots in your neck and shoulders.

“Well why don’t we just relax you then, hmm?”

His hands move under your nightie, massaging your back, paying special attention to all the places where the stress had seemed to knot your muscles.

“Dear God, what aren’t you good at, Spencer?” you mumbled.

“Singing. But that doesn’t stop me from doing it.”

You laugh, distracted enough to the point that you didn’t even realize his hands had moved to your legs, massaging your calves one by one. 

With hands spread across the backs of your thighs, he rubs gently up them before moving straight toward your once again throbbing core. He smirks when you start to squirm, knowing just exactly what you want him to do.

He decides to tease you instead.

His fingers trace patterns on the inside of your thighs, amazed at just how soft your skin is. One finger slides slowly along the fabric of your panties, the cute black lace ones he always says he loves to see you in.

You whimper, craving his touch even more now. You’re about to voice your need, when you feel his fingers hook into the waistband of the garment and tug it down your legs. At this point, you have no idea what to expect.

He wastes no time, sliding one finger inside you, eliciting a moan. He takes his time, tantalizing you with his slow movements. His knuckle rubs the inside of you before he doubles the digits, leaning over you, kissing the back of your neck.

You’re not forming coherent thoughts and your strangled moans are mixed with whimpers of his name and broken curses.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper as his thumb circles your clit.

It’s not even noon yet and your second orgasm of the day is looming. 

“Would the lady like to cum again?” Spencer mumbles into your neck.

“Yes, god, yes,” you moan, his words almost sending you spiraling, your adrenaline spiked, ready to fall over the edge.

Your moans are muffled in the pillow as his fingers move swifter and faster. Your back arches into him as you break like fragile glass underneath him, your hands gripping the pillow at the overwhelming sensation.

You’d think you’d be spent after the earth shattering climaxes, twice, but you sit up, turning back to him, his own arousal quite evident by now. You pull the nightie over your head, letting it fall where it may before crawling towards him.

Who knew one day off did so much for your libido?

You kiss him fervently, your lips hot against his, moving at a rapid pace. Your hands are busy freeing him of his pajamas while his roam every inch of your exposed skin. Your groan interrupts the kiss as he pinches your nipple between his fingertips, hands covering your breasts.

You get the buttons on his pajama shirt undone while his lips ravish your neck and you push it off him. Leaning forward your lips press against his collarbone making him groan.

It’s one place you know that gets him instantly hard, something you accidentally discovered once. 

He lifts his hips in aid as you pull the last two remaining articles of clothing off him at once. You’re both ready and eager, with no time to waste.

“Y/N, God, baby girl,” Spencer groans as you sink down on him.

Your heart flutters a bit at the sentiment. It’s not often he calls you baby girl and when he does, it’s usually during sex. Somehow, it makes the nickname even more special to you.

His lips collide with yours as your hips begin rocking against his. You gasp softly when you feel his hands on your ass, squeezing gently. 

“Naughty boy,” you giggle, nipping his jaw.

“Yet I’m the agent here,” he grins, when you pull back to look down at him.

Your hips jerk slightly when he hits a sensitive spot of yours and he groans deep in his throat, his tongue moving over his lips and eyes sliding closed.

His hands guide you on him and soon you’re both breathing hard between mixed moans and breathless curses. You bend backwards, head and back leaning away from him. He uses the opportunity, with one hand splayed across your back, to thrust harder into you, bringing you both that much closer to succumbing to your ecstasy.

“Spenc-er,” you moan brokenly, more than ready to let him make you see stars.

Only moments later you’re coming apart at his mercy, your moans loud enough to drown out the tv, which still happens to be playing on Netflix.

Spencer unravels not far behind you, his hair now a mess, his forehead glistening with perspiration, but a pure look of bliss etches his features. The look is still there minutes later after you’ve moved off of him and he lays down beside you, facing you.

You look over his shoulder at the clock that reads 12:07 p.m.

“Three orgasms by lunchtime. Now that’s what I call service.”

He snorts, smirking satisfactorily. He pushes a stray piece of hair from your face, cupping your cheek before pulling your face to his, kissing you sweetly.

It’s not even ten minutes later that you’re both asleep, your body folded perfectly into his.

•

Late afternoon light streams through the curtains of the bedroom when you open your eyes. 

You sit up carefully, not to wake Spencer who is still sleeping peacefully. With a glance at the clock, you see it’s almost 4. Netflix had stopped playing episodes long ago and returned to the home screen.

Seeing as you’re already naked, you decide you might as well get a shower. You sit up on the side of the bed and you hear Spencer stir behind you.

His arms are reaching for you, his eyes half open.

“Where are you going?”

His voice was still thick with sleep and you smile, taking in his even more so disheveled hair and sleep voice as he rubs his eyes.

“I was gonna hop in the shower.”

“Can I come?” he smirks up at you, propping his head up with his arm.

“Spencer, I refuse to have shower sex. I’d rather not break a bone.”

He laughs, sitting up.

“I just meant it will save water. You know the average American actually uses 17.2 gallons of water in an average shower time of 8.2 minutes, so technically we would be saving water.”

You chuckle. Spencer Reid, part time sex god, full time genius, but you loved him for it. You’re still convinced his knowledge is a huge reason why he’s so good in bed; you wouldn’t be surprised.

“Okay come on,” you grin, heading towards the bathroom.

You’ve just turned on the water to warm up when you feel arms around your waist. He rests his chin on the top of your head before kissing it.

“I love you.”

You smile, your hands resting on his arms.

“I love you too, Spence.”

-

“Spencer, I swear!”

He laughs as he flicks some of the shower water your way. It was like bathing with a toddler.

Your face breaks into a grin when you catch him off guard with a flick of water back at him.

“Pay back!”

He picks you up, spinning you around to set you on the other side of the shower, but almost slips in the process. You’re squealing and laughing at the same time, holding on to him tightly so you don’t fall. He’s laughing so hard, his eyes have scrunched into tiny slits. You love when he smiles so big that that happens. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him this happy.

Your laughter dies down and he leans in, kissing you. He may have kissed you a million times already today, but each kiss has left you weak in the knees. You stand there pressed against the shower wall, the water beating against his back and kiss him like you’ve never kissed him before.

-

He insists on helping you wash yourself.

He takes the bar of soap, lathering it first over your back and down your arms, then turning you to face him and doing the same for your front half.

There’s nothing sexual about it, his touch is gentle and caring as if you’re the most precious piece of china he’d ever laid his hands on.

His hands work the shampoo into your hair, fingertips rubbing your scalp gently. His lips twitch with laughter and you look up at him quizzically.

You feel his hands messing with your hair and soon realize he’s trying to make it stand up with shampoo still in it.

“Very funny,” your own mouth turns up in a grin, unable to even complain; he was just too adorable for his own good.

Your own soapy hands run along his skin, the shower water washing them away almost as soon as they touch his body. You stand on your tiptoes, tongue poked out of the corner of your mouth in concentration as you try to reach his hair. This only makes him smile at your perseverance.

“I got it, hun.”

After your shower—which was much longer than Spencer’s statistic of 8 minutes—you both decide to order a pizza.

The two of you are seated in bed, clothed in fluffy, warm robes chowing down on pizza. You aren’t talking, but it’s a comfortable silence. He’s reading a book and you scroll through social media, just enjoying each other’s presence. A bottle of wine that you cracked open earlier sits on your nightstand next to your glass, his own glass in his hand.

He puts his book aside and looks over at you, speaking only when he sees you pick up your own glass of wine.

“I say we make a toast,” he said, “To days off. Today has been so amazing and I think it’s done me a lot of good.”

You smile, knowing it has.

“To days off.”

Your glasses clink and you take another sip, setting it back on the nightstand. You rest your head on his shoulder and he rests his head on the top of yours. You really hate to see this day end. His fingers trace lazy patterns on the back of your hand and you watch, mesmerized.

“I don’t think I’ve thought about work at all today,” he said.

“When have you had time to?” you snicker, “You have been a tad bit busy.”

You feel his amused grin against your hair.

“Maybe just a tad.”

It’s quiet for a beat, until you speak again.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

Something in your voice makes him pull away and look down at you.

“I know your job is busy and work is unpredictable, but do you think, if it’s possible that you could take more days off here and there? It doesn’t have to be super often. I’ve just missed you so much and today has been so wonderful. Sometimes it’s so hard to be without you and it hurts so much how much I miss you.”

You quieten your rambling, feeling ashamed that you’d even ask him such a thing. His work was incredibly important. He helped people, saved lives. Who were you to ask him to take time off to spend it with you when he could be helping others?

Noticing your sudden silence, he frowns. Tipping your chin up with his finger, his eyes search your face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I shouldn’t even be asking. You have people to catch, lives to save and here I am asking if we can spend more time together. I’d just be taking you away from work for selfish reasons.”

“Y/N,” Spencer’s tone is firm, “Yes, work is important but so are you. I can’t expect you to be the only one to make this relationship work. I know we’re in a unique situation with my FBI career, but that doesn’t mean you come second to it. I’d love to be able to spend more time with you and I’d be happy to see what strings I can pull.”

The corner of your mouth quirks and you try to contain your smile.

“Y/N, I know we aren’t perfect, but I’m willing to do anything in my power to keep you. Besides, time off now and then would be good for me as well. You’ll be so sick of spending time with me,” he joked.

“Never,” you breathe as he bends over you, placing his lips on top of his.

You scoot further down on the bed as he climbs over you, his hands untying the belt of your robe. 

The intimacy is a complete 180 from earlier. This time it’s slow and you’re letting yourselves take time to enjoy one another, as if you have all the time in the world.

Spencer kisses every inch of skin exposed as he slowly pulls off your robe. First your shoulders, your collarbones, down your chest and across your stomach.

“I do believe you’re quite pulchritudinous,” he whispered, glancing up at you.

“I’m..what?” you question, dumbfounded.

“Another word for beautiful, my dear.”

His tone was neither condescending nor mean, just matter of fact. He loved showing off his brain, but it was even sexier when it was in the bedroom.

You feel your blush across your entire body and you bite your lip shyly. Your hand moves over his cheek, his stubble slightly scratchy against your hand. His thumbs rub gently across the skin on your hips as he watches you taking him in.

Your hands reach to loosen his own robe belt and he sits back to rid of it before hovering over you again.

His kiss is light as air as he enters you, his hand covering your own and lacing your fingers together with his. His hips move slowly, there being no rush this time around. Your hand moves over the back of his head, through his hair, both of your quiet moans interrupting the kiss.

If earlier was to be described as wild and lust crazed, this was to be described as sweet and affectionate. 

“God, I love you,” he breathed, watching you as he moved within you slowly.

Your hands move down his back, needing more and you tell him so.

“S-Spencer,” you whimper, teeth scraping over your bottom lip, your impending high still too far away for your liking.

Repositioning your hips, his movements gain speed, his kisses tracing down your jaw. His hand is still in yours and you grip his hand tighter. You’re as close as two could possibly get, yet you feel like you can’t possibly get close enough. 

Whether he’s conscious of it or not, his tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth, all of his attention and determination on pleasing you. 

Your nails rake gently down his back and he groans feeling you clench around him, his own curses growing louder.

“Shit, shit, shit, oh baby,” he groans lowly, coming apart slowly.

He can’t take his eyes off you, the way your skin glows from the slight sweat on your face. The way your lips part in ecstasy at almost any move he makes and the way that you’re so beautiful as you’re unraveling underneath him, vulnerable and so perfect to him.

Afterwards, it takes a few minutes before either of you move. You are completely spent after the days’ activities and you grin lazily up at him.

“Was four orgasms a part of your plan for today too?”

“No, but you gotta admit it was some great improvisation on my part,” he teased.

When you’re settled next to each other again, he pulls the sheet over you both before pulling you into his arms. 

It’s barely 8 ‘o clock, but an early night sounds good right about now. Tomorrow it’s back to the real world. Crime fighting for him, novel writing for you.

But you still have tonight and that’s more than enough.

His voice is the last thing you hear before you drift off to dreamland.

“Goodnight, my love.”

Tag List: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @fuckthealarm​ @whatspunispun​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @thomasfoockinshelby​ @tinyminy88​ @theitcaramelchick​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​

[zombiekillerky]

[Snowball Warzone] - Sleepyboisinc Fanfic

{Family Dynamic only, no relationships at all in this story}

[This story is set back when they were young and Phil still took care of them]

"I here by declare this land to be SNOW VILE" Tommy shouted at the top of his lungs on the small snow mound he was standing upon at the moment. Making Wilbur and Tubbo glance back at him in confusion as they were making snow angles on the other side of the yard. Tommy watched them confidently with a smirk on his face as they got up. Taking note of the devilish look in Wilbur's eyes. Brushing the snow of of his hands so he could wipe his nose with out making his face cold and wet.

"Why Snow Vile Tommy....aren't there other names you could have chose from?" Tubbo asked  as he sat up from laying back on the snow. Noticing Wilbur doing the same as he brushed the snow off the back of his hat. Tommy flashed him a smile as he shrugged his shoulders slightly in return. Meaning it was a split second decision he had made and didn't put much thought in to it at all.

"Because Tubbo, as President I have thought long and hard about this decision on the name and that is what I have come up with....not totally because I randomly just thought about it right now not at all no" Tommy replied with a laugh as he bent down and wiped some of the snow off of his knees. Regretting his sitting position while he was piling the snow for his mound in the first place earlier on. The boys had gone out to play in the fresh snow that occurred the night before hand. Begging to go out last night but Phil convinced them it wasn't safe enough to go out in the first place and to wait for morning. The snow was one of their favorite things to happen in the year for many reasons. It was fun to play in, started wars and adventures and it also brought the family closer together. It meant to Christmas was just around the corner and the up coming days for it were always memorable among them all. But the blonde couldn't get much in to it, for now he needed to start his new nation of snowmen and women. Who knows how long it would take for him to make them all before sun down at the rate.

"Wilbur could you help me make a flag for my hill, I think it would be good for my country and my soon to be snow people that I will rule over!" Tommy asked as he glanced back over to the brunette where he thought he had last seen him. Surprised to find a snowball coming at him quickly with laughter following behind. The blond fell to the ground, over doing the dramatic side a bit as he laid there. Holding his chest where he had gotten hit like he had been killed. Hearing Tubbo scream his name before landing on the ground next to him in sadness. Bringing his head up on to his lap as his eyes were slowly shutting.

"NO Mr president Don't DIE no!" He yelled, not even above the age of 11 and he knew what that meant already. To everyone's surprise Tubbo did know a lot of things that no one thought he would. Maybe the fact that he had some small trouble reading made everyone think he didn't know about important stuff. But the looks on their faces when he did say something no one knew were priceless.

"t-tubbo....my friend...m-my vice president"

"yes Mr president what do you need?"

"come....c-closer to me Tubbo...I-I need to tell you something....something very i-important"

"what? what is it Tommy......please tell me?"

"......tell Wilbur......that I ate his last cookie inside....and"

"Yes and what?"

"that....he sucks!" Tommy said before letting his head fall back to act like he was dead. Snickering as he heard Tubbo cry out his name in agony and sadness as they sat there in the cold snow.  But the scene was broken by the laughter that filled the air by all of them. Tommy soon raised his head as Tubbo fell back on to the ground with laughter. They couldn't contain it any more and their show was now sort of over.

"Sike I'm still alive Bitch!"

"Tommy watch your mouth!"

"sorry sorry....but I'm still alive and I declare war on your country Wilbur! With Tubbo on my side we will foil your plans you terrorist! You will feel the pain and suffering of Snow vile for your actions!" Tommy shouted as he helped Tubbo up off the floor, trying to hold back his laughs still as they raced over to the mound. Or the city capital as Tommy would say. Trying to build up their wall for the war that was about to happen and get so much worse between them.

---------------------------------

Phil just watched from inside as they all played the scene in front of him like a show. Laughing at their acting and their show as he gathered things to make hot chocolate for when they came in for breakfast. As he stood there by the window he heard the stairs creak behind him and a small muffled yawn. Turning around to see Techno standing there with an unimpressed look on his face as he came down. It seemed he had a rough night, and depending on how he was acting was what side of the bed he slept on too. Phil smiled warmly at him, the smile was returned as the young pig hybrid covered his mouth as he yawned once more. The small bags underneath his eyes told all. Running his hands through his hair to untangle the knots from his restless sleep he had.

"They're outside if you're wondering, raced straight out there as soon as they woke up.....Your things are by the door, I also fixed your gloves since they had a rip in them that you neglected to tell me about" Phil said calmly as he sat the coco mix on the counter top. Making his way over to the fridge for the rest of the ingredients he needed. The small grunt was heard a reply, telling him okay from how many times Techno has done it before hand.

"Sorry about that Phil, just slipped my *yawn* mind a little bit....you know I have trouble remembering somethings with my low attention span" Techno replied with a sly smirk, Phil couldn't help but giggle as he nodded his head.

"That is true, but could you just come to me next time? You know I have spares in the closet some where"

"I suppose" Techno replied, meaning that he wouldn't really remember to after this conversation. The blonde  adventurer smiled softly at him in return as he watched him glance out the window quickly. Phil could tell from the very start Techno was not and never a morning person. But after a few minutes he was back to his normal attitude he had most of the time. Waking him up was the worst thing though if they all needed to do something.

Techno sighed as he grabbed his light jacket, gloves and hat. Being that he was a piglin hybrid his body warmed up naturally very easy. Making it apparent that he didn't need much to keep him warm and assured Phil he was fine several times about it. But warm biomes were in fact one of his worst enemies at the moment from how hot he could get.

"Make sure you don't beat them to bad Techno" Phil commented quickly, knowing how competitive he could get. Techno glanced back at him with an evil smirk on his face, watching Phil roll his eyes slightly as he ran some fresh water in to some of the cups.

"How ever do you mean Philza....that is something I would never do......are you implying something?" Techno replied sarcastically back as he crossed his arms slightly, hoping Phil would get that he was joking. Earning a laugh from his father figure as he worked at the counter, he did get that he was joking then which was good. He wouldn't admit it but Phil did have a point about his competitiveness. It wasn't as bad as Tommy's ego though which was something he couldn't let him add on to when beating him at a snowball fight outside. He would hear it from him for weeks that he was beaten by him and like Tommy says was beaten by the alpha male.

"Nah mate, just go and have some fun before breakfast is ready kid." Phil replied with a soft grin, noticing Techno's eyes softening from his sarcastic expression. Technoblade flashed Phil one last smile before heading outside the warm house he wanted to stay in overall. He would rather stay inside with Phil then out in a cold war zone. Immediately regretting his decision as soon as he stepped foot out there, his face being met with a snow ball from the left side of the yard. The yard went silent as they're eyes landed on him standing there. Wiping the snow off of his face with an annoyed look that said all. Tommy knew that was his snow ball too, he knew he was in big trouble if Techno knew that. He was screwed, his could feel the blank stare and his blood ran cold. Chewing on his bottom lip out of nervousness.

"Well if it isn't The mighty Blade waking up finally! You're on our property you terrorist! Pay your taxes by giving us cookies or LEAVE" Tommy shouted, confusing the hybrid standing there with a poker face almost. The blonde was trying to cover up the tension and his nervousness by his shouting. The look on Tubbo's was changed once he heard Tommy say those words. Realizing they could have used Techno's help against Will to make it a somewhat fair fight. But now that the two older kids were on the same side there was no telling what could really happen between the groups. Techno looked over to Will , watching the brunette shrug his shoulders with a smile as he continued the ball snow in his hands. The hybrid smirked slightly as he turned his gaze back to Tommy standing there.  Trying to appear taller almost as he stood to show dominance., ignoring the fact that both Will and techno were taller then him by a lot. Taking notice on his anxiousness as he stood there with fake confidence. He already knew he was screwed the moment Techno took a step outside. Techno could use that fear against them, but today he felt like being a little nice at least for now anyway.

"YOU KNOW I HATE GOVERNMENTS AS MUCH AS I HATE ORPHANS TOMMY! NOW YOU SHALL FEEL THE WRATH OF ME THESEUS! WE WILL DESTROY YOUR LAND" Techno shouted to play along with their game they played. He busted in to a sprint over toward Wilbur behind his snow and ice built wall. Hearing laughing and shouting on the other side of the yard from the youngest duo taking camp there. The tension between them all fell as soon as they heard Techno speak.

"Took you long enough! I needed the back up, they've been at it all morning ever since I tried to assassinate Tommy earlier when he built the mound"

"Sorry, you know I don't do well with mornings Willbur"  Techno replied as he started to grab some snow off the ground. Making snow balls to add to his pile as ones were being thrown over their wall by the two youngest boys on the opposite side of the yard. He smirked as he chucked one over their wall. Hearing a faint scream from Tubbo in return which meant he managed to hit him with only a quick glance for accuracy. Wilbur started to laugh as he threw more over, he didn't even look he was just throwing them over the wall. Tommy screamed as he ducked, yelling at Wilbur with words no one could even understand.

"TUBBO DO SOMETHING!" Tommy screamed as he covered his head as more snow balls were being thrown at them. Watching as the brunette tried to throw some back in return but failed miserably.

"I'M TRYING TOMMY! HOW DO YOU HAVE SO MANY SNOWBALLS PREPARED!!" Tubbo yelled back to them, hearing laughter loudly erupting from their side. Techno stood up with a sly smirk as he showed the snowballs in his hands he made. Now that he was standing up he could get a better shot at them from where he was. The piglin hybrid took his shot, hitting Tubbo twice as he tried to throw more snowballs Tommy had made. He even managed to get Tommy in the arm as well. Hearing his shrieking and laughing as he ducked down for more cover. They really did stand no chance against them both, they should have had Techno on their side when they had the chance to recruit him. Now he was the reason why they were loosing so poorly. Who knew the mostly antisocial piglin hybrid would be so good about snowball fights.

"Why don't you guys just give up already and let us take over your land? you have clearly been defeated by us!" Wilbur shouted at the both of them from his side. Standing up with no fear at all of them trying to attack. Tommy looked over at Tubbo who stood up with his hands in the air,

"Tubbo what are you doing!"

"Tommy...I er Mr. president we stand no chance against them. As your vice president I advise you that we should give up in defeat"

"But we can't!.....No I'm not giving up!" Tommy said as he stood up, giving techno the challenge of changing his mind. Technoblade smirked as he threw another snowball at him, hitting him square in the chest. Tommy sighed as he wiped off the snow, realizing his defeat was the best moment Techno has had this whole time fighting them.

"B-But we can't give up Tubbo-" As soon as he was about ready to continue Tubbo started to scream. Hearing Wilbur's laughter coming closer toward them,

"Air Strike!" The brunette yelled as he ran as fast as he could and dumped the mound of snow he gathered in his arms on him. Covering Tommy's head and shoulders the white fluff that made him freeze in his spot. At first he didn't know how to react, but then everything set in. His vocal cords should have been damaged after the scream he had let out. Hitting Wilbur's arm as he cussed him out with only the few words he knew so far. But because of his height difference he was only hitting his forearm and hip. Leaving Wilbur in a laughing mess as they all stood there near the mound.

"Well I can safely say it is my honor to take over Snow Vile and run this country as my own chaotic one. Banishing these two to do all the work for ever!" Wilbur said with his own little evil laugh as Tommy stepped down from the mound. But even with their win Techno wasn't finished yet, not until the country was destroyed for good. The piglin hybrid uncovered another snow ball from within his coat pocket that was covered by his cloak. The brunette flinched as he felt it hit him in the dead center of his back. He turned in awe as he saw Techno running closer.

"NO BODY CAN HAVE THE GOVERNMENT, NOT IF I'M AROUND!" He yelled as he tackled Wilbur to the snow covered ground, glad the the snow piles covered their fall as they laid there on the ground. Laughing at each other as they laid there, surprisingly WIlbur didn't get as cold as he thought he would because of Techno's heat. Soon having Tubbo and Tommy follow their lead and add on to the pile after Wilbur was done putting snow in Techno's hair as pay back. They were all laughing as they laid there especially at Wilbur's attempts to get up off of the ground. His complains got louder about how cold his back was but the only thing that changed was Tommy added some snow on to his neck and face once he got up off the dog pile as he would call it.

"Kids come on! Breakfast is done and you don't want your hot chocolate to get cold as in you Tommy"

"But Phil they took my country and you know it's not good when it's cold. It's just chocolate water soup after that!"

"No you mean my country"

"It was mine first you terrorist" Tommy replied, noticing Tubbo and Techno had gotten off of Wilbur and started to head to the door. Wilbur smirked as he shook the snow off of him, throwing some at Tommy before sprinting toward the door. Past Techno and Tubbo on the way in in order to get away from the little gremlin that chased after him. Phil rolled his eyes as he let the other two boys inside and shut the door after. Hearing the bickering subside at the table as they started eating. Knowing that it would soon return once they were done and would head back outside to finish what war they have started.

[phykios]

marmaromenos, 2/?, percy and poseidon for CommanderBear on ao3 :) [read on ao3]

June, 1444

Percy tilted his head back, staring up at the great, beautiful beast of a church which loomed before him, the one they called St. Sophia, the house of holy wisdom. Everyone in Constantinople knew of this church, of course, towering above the city as it did, a beacon for the men and women of Christendom. Supposedly, travelers from all over the world came to marvel at the sight, at the architectural marvel of the ancient Romans. 

Personally, Percy thought it looked a little lumpy.

Though he supposed it was more impressive than his mother’s temple, with its stone walls instead of wooden beams. Certainly it was much larger. 

He was surprised none of the church guards thought to throw him out, looking as bedraggled as he did. Dirty and travel-worn, with ripped clothes just barely covering his myriad of injuries, he must have looked as one of the homeless children who haunted the street corners, begging for coin or food from kind passersby. Percy was not at all fit to wander such exalted halls. 

Yet wander he did, right up to a guard with a scar on his hand in the shape of a triangle, and with an air of bravery which he did not truly feel, Percy said to the man the words which he had been instructed to say, “I seek an audience with the emperor.”

The guard looked at him over his nose, unimpressed. “Then get yourself to the palace.”

“I request an audience with the Panellenios.” Still the guard stared blankly at him. But Percy had been warned he might be stubborn. “With Zeus Olumpios.”

The man narrowed his eyes. 

Percy glared right back, for he could be a thousand times more hard-headed than any man. 

“Have you been granted an audience?” he asked, after some time.

“No, but--”

“Then he shall not see you,” said the guard. “No appointment, no audience--no exceptions.”

“Oh, I wager he will make an exception,” Percy said, grasping the hilt of the sword which hung around his waist. It seemed to have shrunk on the journey back to Constantinople, now quite easily sized for him, where before it had clearly been forged for a much larger man, though the golden hilt was no less intricate, finely wrought with scenes of war and triumph, with a precision only found in the forges of Hephaestus. 

Blankly, the guard looked at the sword on Percy's hip--then paled in sudden recognition. "Is that--?"

"Indeed," said Percy. "Would you like me to prove it?" And he made to unsheathe the lightning.

“No, no!” hissed the man, taking Percy’s shoulder and pulling him into a shadow. “Please, none of that here.”

Percy gave him a pointed look.

The man sighed. “Follow me.” Then, looking over his shoulder, he led them through the metal doors, into the church.

The first thing Percy noted was the walls. They were purple and green and white, cross sections of marble joined together in a stone tapestry of color and texture. Even the floors were a part of this tapestry, worn smooth from the feet of a thousand pilgrims. 

And then he looked up. 

Percy gasped.

He knew houses of worship to be dark, solemn places, but light streamed into the house of holy wisdom from a hundred different sources. Percy felt as if he were standing at the bottom of a great canyon, looking up at the sun which peeked out from over the cliff. The golden dome, the one which Annabeth had spoken so highly of, it seemed to float on nothing but air, suspended from the heavens as the walls which supported it dissolved into sunlight. And the colors! Lavish mosaics decorated each surface, portraits of emperors and empresses rendered in gold and precious stones, lit with colored glasses of red and purple and blue, as if they had harnessed the power of Iris herself just to shine on the faces of rulers long since passed. 

The guard hissed at him, beckoning him through the hall towards the sanctuary. Laying a hand against one of the marble panels, there shone a blue triangle, and before his very eyes, the marble split open, like two leaves of a book coming undone, until there was a doorway, and a set of circular stairs. “Go,” said the guard. “Do not keep them waiting.”

He did as the man told him, and ascended the stairs. He walked. And walked. And kept walking. At one point, he had to stop and rest a while, catching his breath, one hand braced against the wall. How high was this malakes staircase?

Finally, blessedly, he reached the top. The doors to Olympus opened as he approached, revealing to him the home of the gods. 

Percy stepped out and nearly fell off. 

He stood on a thin, stone walkway in the middle of the air. Below him was the blue dome of St. Sophia and the city of Constantinople, from the height of one of Zeus’ mighty eagles. Before him, white marble steps wound their way through the clouds, into the blue sky, where Percy beheld the peak of a mountain, its summit covered with snow. Clinging to the mountainside were dozens of palaces, each one grander than that of the emperor of Rome, all with white-columned porticos and bronze braziers glowing with a thousand holy fires. Precariously perched gardens bloomed with olive trees and rose bushes, figs and pomegranates hanging low, ripe for the taking, almost as colorful as the temples. On one side, Percy could discern a stone amphitheater built out of the side of the mountain, a hippodrome and a coliseum on the other, and an open-air market filled with colorful tents in between, a vibrant, thriving city plucked straight from the past.

Percy wondered at it all. How could this be? How could the people of the city of Constantinople live underneath such splendor and not see it for themselves? 

In a daze, he walked forward. He passed a few giggling wood nymphs who threw olives at him from the safety of their garden, as hawkers in the market offered to sell him fine food and rich wines, just as the mortals did. Traveling through a beautiful park, he spotted the nine muses tuning their instruments, while a small crowd gathered before them, satyrs and naiads, handsome youths and beautiful girls, unburdened and carefree. None seemed worried about the prospect of an impending civil war. Indeed, the mood was festive and joyful.

Several turned to watch as he passed, whispering to themselves.

Climbing the main road, towards the glittering white and silver palace at the peak, Percy passed through the central courtyard, stepping into the throne room. And it was a room, as it was contained within four walls--but room did not quite clearly capture the enormity of the space. Even bigger than the hall of St. Sophia, massive columns rose to another domed ceiling, gilded not with mosaics, but with living, breathing, moving constellations. He spied Orion, the Dioscuri, and his namesake, Perseus, traveling across the sky in their endless celestial dance.

Twelve thrones, built for enormous beings, were arranged in an inverted U, just as they were with the villas at the agoge, complete with an enormous fire crackling in the hearth, right in the center. The thrones were vacant, save for two at the end: the head throne on the right, and the one to its immediate left. Percy did not have to be told who the two gods were which sat there, observing him, awaiting his approach. He could barely even look at them without feeling his flesh begin to tingle, as though his body were mere moments away from burning.

Zeus Olumpios, the lord of the sky, sat before him on a throne made of solid metal, white and shining, in a great, purple cloak, the color that was reserved for kings and emperors only, his face proud and handsome, but grim, stern eyes steely blue like thunderclouds. The air about him crackled, smelling of flowers, the heartbeat before a lightning strike.

The god sitting next to him was his brother, of that Percy had no doubt, but he could not have been more different. He reminded Percy a little of the fishermen that dotted the harbors of the city, in his simple, light tunic and well-worn sandals. His skin was deeply tanned, hands scarred from the cuts of a thousand fishhooks. His hair was black, like Percy's, on which rested a crown of celery leaves, and his face was dark and brooding, the same look which had branded Percy as a troublemaker. But his eyes, the color of the Bosphorus in the sunlight, like Percy's, were surrounded by sun-crinkles which seemed to indicate that he was a man prone to smiling.

His throne was a fisherman's chair, and at his side, instead of a fishing pole, was a giant, bronze trident.

The gods did not move nor speak, but there was a tension in the air, as if Percy had come to them at the conclusion of some great argument.

Percy approached the fisherman's throne, kneeling at his feet. "Father."

He did not dare look up.

To his left, Zeus spoke, his voice the echo of thunderclaps. "Should you not first address the master of this house, boy?"

He kept his head down.

"Peace, brother," said Poseidon. His voice stirred one of Percy's oldest, most treasured memories: that warm glow he recalled as an infant, the sensation of this god's hand upon his forehead. "The boy defers to his father--this is only right."

"You still claim him, then?" Zeus asked him. "You claim this child whom you sired against our most sacred oath?"

"I have admitted my wrongdoings," said Poseidon. "Now, I would hear him speak."

Percy's heart beat in his chest, a lump growing in his throat. Was that all he was to this mighty being? A wrongdoing? A mistake?

"I have spared him once already," Zeus grumbled. "Daring to fly through my domain... pah! I should have struck him from the sky as I once did to Bellerophon for his impudence."

"And risk destroying your weapon?" asked Poseidon, as calm as the sea after a storm. "Let us hear him out, brother."

Grumbling once more, he acquiesced.

"Perseus," said his father. "Look at me."

He did.

His face was inscrutable. Percy saw no sign of neither approval nor disapproval. It was as if he were attempting to discern the mood of the ocean, whether or not it would provide safe travels or turbulent waves, from only the stillness of the waters. He could not sense whether or not Poseidon was pleased with him, he realized, and, in some strange way, it did not trouble him. Had he been more affectionate or loving, it would have felt like a trick, like the magic of some monster, luring him to his demise.

"Address Lord Zeus, boy," he intoned. "Tell him of your tale."

And so did Percy relate everything as it had happened to him, the long and twisted tale of the lightning thief. He told Zeus of Medusa and the Erinyes, of Echidna in Thessalonica, of the treachery of the god of war and the revelations uncovered in the Underworld. He unbuckled the sword and sheath from his belt, which had begun sparking in the god's presence, and carefully laid it at his feet.

For a long while, there was nothing but silence, broken only by the crackle of the hearth fire.

Zeus opened his palm, and the weapon flew to its master's palm. As he closed his fist about the hilt, it transformed before Percy's very eyes, into a jagged length of metal, a five-meter javelin of arcing, hissing energy.

"I sense the boy is telling the truth," Zeus muttered. "But that Ares would do such a thing... it is most unlike him."

"He is proud and impulsive, my lord," said Poseidon. "Something of a family trait, I believe."

Percy swallowed. "Lord?"

"Yes?" They said together.

"I do not feel that Lord Ares acted alone. There was another... a shadowy puppetmaster, operating just beyond his knowledge."

"How do you mean?" asked Zeus.

In one final, vicious confrontation, Percy had faced the god of war in single combat on the shores of Aitne. Though he had managed to land a blow on the god, striking his ankle, Ares had been poised to strike him down... until a strange, cold presence had seemed to cease the flow of time, causing Ares to stay his hand, a momentary breath of evil which had dogged his dreams, and Percy too told of this. "In my dreams, the voice bade me to bring the bolt to the Underworld, a voice that Ares seemed to have heard as well in his. I believe he was being used to start a war."

"So you do accuse Hades, then?" Zeus asked.

"No, Lord Zeus--I have been in his presence, and it was not what I felt on the beaches of Aitne. Rather, it was the same feeling I had when I got too close to the pit of Tartarus." For that was what it was, he suddenly realized. Something stirred down there, something evil and powerful... and older even than the two gods which sat before him.

Glancing at each other, the lords of sea and sky engaged in a quick, intense discussion in the ancient tongue, which Percy could not follow, though he was able to catch a single word: Father. 

"We shall speak of this no more," said Zeus. "I shall personally go to purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, removing the human taint from its metal."

He rose, looking at Percy, who stared back, willing everything in him not to flinch.

Then, his countenance softened, just a touch. "You have done me a service, boy. Few heroes could have accomplished as much."

"I was not alone, my lord," he said. "The satyr Aegidius, and Annabeth Fredriksdotter--"

"To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life. I do not trust you, Perseus of Constantinople, and I do not like what your arrival may portend for the future of Olympos. But for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live."

How magnanimous of him. "Thank you, sir."

"Do not let me find you here upon my return. Otherwise you shall taste this bolt--and it shall be your last sensation."

Thunder shook the hall of the gods, and with a blinding flash of lightning, Zeus had gone.

Percy was alone in the throne room with his father.

Poseidon sighed. "Your uncle," he said, rubbing at his nose with a finger, "always did have a flair for dramatic exits. Perhaps he should relieve his son as the god of theater, no?"

Percy could find no proper response to such a question. He was not certain that, even though he was no longer present, his words would not reach the god's ears. "Sir," he said instead, "what was the thing in the pit?"

The god regarded him. "Have you not already guessed?"

He had. "Kronos. The Titan king."

Even in the throne room, as far away from the pit as could be, the name darkened the room, cooling the warmth of the hearth fire at his back.

Poseidon gripped his trident, a calming gesture. "At the close of the First War, Zeus cut our father, Kronos, into a thousand pieces, just as Kronos had down to his own father, Ouranos, a generation prior. Zeus then cast Kronos' remains into the darkest pit of Tartarus. The army of the Titans was scattered, their fortress destroyed, their monstrous allies driven to the furthest corners of the earth--yet the Titans cannot die, any more than we gods can. Whatever is left of Kronos is still alive, in some hideous way, conscious in his eternal pain, hungering for power."

"He's healing," he said. "He is returning."

But Poseidon shook his head. "Over the eons, Kronos has stirred. He will enter men's nightmares, breathing evil thoughts, awakening restless monsters from the depths. But to suggest that he could rise from the pit is another thing."

"That is what he intends, father!" Percy insisted. "That is what he desires!"

"My lord brother has closed discussion on this matter," he said. "He will allow talk of Kronos no longer. You have completed your quest, child. That is all you need to do."

"But--" Percy stopped himself. Arguing would do him no good, and would very possibly anger the only god who he had as an ally. "...As you wish, father."

A faint smile played on his lips. "I see that obedience does not come naturally to you, then."

Percy shrugged. "No, sir."

"I must take some blame for that, I suppose. The sea is a wild thing, and it does not like to be restrained." Grasping his trident, he rose to his full height, then he shimmered, shrinking until he became the size of any fisherman in Constantinople, standing before him. "You must go now, child. But first, know that your mother has been returned from the Underworld."

Percy gasped. "My mother?"

"Even the Lord of Death pays his debts. You will find her at her home."

His heart pounded in his chest. His mother, that wondrous woman, he had left to the tender mercies of Hades, and he had indeed been merciful. So overcome with emotion, he nearly asked if this god, this divine being, would accompany him home to see her. As if Poseidon would deign to walk the streets of Constantinople, mingling amongst the mortals. And besides… if he had thought to visit her all these years, there was not much that would have prevented him from already doing so. 

Poseidon’s eyes took on a little sadness, like clouds on the far off horizon. “When you return home, my son, there will be an important choice which you must make, and a parcel waiting for you there.”

“A parcel?”

“You will understand when you see it. This is my wisdom to you, Percy, that you must decide your own path. No one can choose it for you.”

He nodded, though he did not quite comprehend. 

His face cleared, then. “Your mother is a queen among women,” he said, wistful for his former paramour. “I had not met such a mortal woman in quite some time. And yet, I do feel some… regret, child, that you were born. I have doomed you to a hero’s fate, and a hero’s fate is never a happy one.”

Percy looked away, hoping that his hurt did not show. “I--I do not mind, father.”

“Not yet, perhaps,” he said. “Yet still, ‘twas an unforgivable error on my part.”

Percy bowed, stiff and awkward. He could not bear it any longer, and he knew a dismissal when he heard one. “I shall take my leave of you, then.”

But he had not taken five steps when he heard his father call his name again. “Perseus.”

He turned.

There was a different kind of light in his eyes, now, a sort of fiery pride. “Do not misunderstand me, Perseus. You did very well. Whatever else you do, know that you are mine, a true son of the sea god.”

As he walked back through the city of the gods, towards the dome of St. Sophia, conversations ceased. The muses paused their revelry. Satyrs and naiads, gods and goddesses, and all matter of immortal beings turned towards me, their faces filled with respect and gratitude, and as he passed, they knelt, paying tribute to a hero.

[pink-imagines]

angel on earth

part 9

request: .

a/n: i used the song that @sleepy-writer-mha​ wrote for me in this so please go show them some love and support!!

this is not the last part! there is one part left!

warnings: fluff, mentions of smut

masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

“I want to see you sometime soon. Call me when the tour is over.”

“That’s gonna be a while to wait-”

“I’ve waited this long, I think I can wait a few weeks longer. Besides, I don’t want you to see me in this horrid hospital gown.”, he grinned.

“Fine then. I’ll call you when the tour ends. I bet you look great even in that gown, though.”, you giggled, “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Just a few more weeks.”, he reminded you.

“Just a few more weeks...”, you repeated.

You repeated the conversation in your head over and over again. Tonight was the last show of the tour and even though you loved this job, you really wanted the concert to be over. That didn’t mean that you weren’t going to give it your all!

“Last show!”, Eijiro said as he walked up to you, “How’re you feeling?”

“Great! This’ll be the best one yet!”, you grinned.

“I bet it will!”, Eijiro grinned back, with a glimt in his eyes saying that he knew something that you didn’t. Still, you didn’t think too much about it.

It was at the end of the show, with just one song left. The one song you dreaded. It wasn’t that you couldn’t sing in the song’s range or that you didn’t remember the words. No, it was because the song was about you.

As the melody of Angel on Earth started playing the crowd went insane. You smiled warmly out to the crowd and made yourself ready to start singing.

“The picture of you in my mind.“

You froze in place as someone else started singing before you. The crowd cheered as the old lead singer stepped out on stage. Katsuki walked out slowly as he sang the lyrics he wrote about you. Your jaw almost dropped to the floor and as Mina had her guitar solo you ran into his arms. A soft kiss was planted on the top of your head and that’s when the waterworks started.

“Surprise.”, Katsuki muttered in your ear, his voice was husky and low. The mic just happened to be too close to his mouth, leaving the whole crowd to hear.

You turned around to flashing lights and screaming fans. Some where crying, some where smiling and some people were just as surprised as you were. He walked past you towards the center of the stage and kept singing, this was were he belonged.

Throughout the song you sat by the stage and watched in awe as Katsuki sang, who kept stealing glances at you. 

At the end of the song he slowly started walking towards you, never breaking eyecontact with you.

“Your an angel on earth. Yeah.. an angel on earth.”, as he sang the last note his lips were mere inches from yours. Your breath hitched in your throat as your eyes fluttered closed just for a second... because nothing happened, he walked away.

The whole band had ordered pizza to celebrate Katsuki’s return, since the band was too easily recognized to go to a restaurant they sat in Mina’s hotel room. Kaminari was telling Katsuki the funniest moments of the tour as Eijiro started passing around beers.

“... so then Eiji flings out one of his drumsticks in the middle of a solo and ends up using his hand instead!”, Kaminari laughed along with everybody else. Not because it was particularly funny, just because when Kaminari started laughing it was as contagious as a yawn.

“Thank you.”, you smiled at Katsuki as he passed you a beer.

“You two made the crowd go wild tonight.”, Eijiro commented.

“Oh, I didn’t do anything...”, you chuckled nervously and pushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, “I just sat there.”

“You had been hyping them up the entire night!”, Sero exclaimed.

“Yeah! Katsuki was just the cherry on top, really!”, Mina added, “You were like the whole desert!”

“Dammit Mina, now I want ice cream!”, Kaminari groaned.

“Go get some then!”

This started a slight argument which ended with Kaminari, Sero and Mina leaving to go get ice cream. Eventually Eijiro left too, saying that he also wanted ice cream but you knew better. Katsuki and you were left alone. A sudden burst of confidence hit you.

“Why didn’t you kiss me before?”, you asked without looking at him. Katsuki choked on a piece of pizza and started coughing. You gathered the courage to look up at him.

“I... the last time I tried that you kind of hit me.”, he chuckled.

“But-... okay that’s fair.”, you nodded and looked away from him again, “Though I wouldn’t mind if you... nevermind, this is so awkward! I’m sorry-” Katsuki broke off your sentance by pressing his lips to yours. His left hand graced your cheek as the other one went to your waist. Your hands travelled up his chest, up to his neck and finally your fingers tangled in his hair.

“Do you want to get out of here?”, you muttered against his lips.

“Your hotel room or mine?”, he asked between kisses down your neck.

“Mine... let’s go.”

All this built up tension let go at once, like a water balloon exploding or a glass ball shattering against the floor.

Katsuki’s hand held yours tight as you ran around the corridors of the hotel, trying to get to the elevator. Once you finally got there you only had time to press the button for the seventh floor before Katsuki’s lips were on yours again. You smiled into the kiss, making Katsuki smile in return just in time for the elevator doors to open.

The two of you basically ran out and you fumbled with the key card. When you reached your room you were quick to unlock the door and run in with Katsuki following closely behind.

Clothes were coming off left and right, leaving a trail to the bedroom. When your back hit the soft, plush, newly washed pillows you were in nothing but your underwear. Katsuki pulled off his shirt before getting on top of you and linking your lips together again.

Your hands roamed over his stomach, sinking further and further down until they found... bandages. Bandages that covered the scar that Aito had left.

“Are you okay?”, Katsuki’s worried tone broke you out of your trance.

“I... uhm... yeah, yeah... I just... I can’t do this right now, I’m sorry.”, you whisper as you feel the tears burning in your eyes, “I’m sorry about this too...” You laid your palm flat against where the stab wound once was.

“Y/N, this isn’t your fault.”, Katsuki put his hand on top of yours, “You have nothing to be sorry about, okay?” You nodded and looked up at his eyes.

“I really like you... but could we save this for another time? I don’t think I can do this tonight.”, you whispered softly.

“Of course.”, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll leave in a second, I just need to get my clothes.”

“Don’t.”, you grabbed his wrist, “You can... stay here if you want to. The bed’s really big and I... it get’s a bit lonely.”

“Sure.”, he gave you a boyish smile that somehow, just with that, cheered you up.

You crawled under the covers as Katsuki walked around the bed to get in next to you. 

-

Katsuki took a second to look at her before getting into bed beside her. The girl of his dreams was now laying beside him. He didn’t care for how long, he would burn this memory into the back of his brain. 

At first he was scared to even move, as if this was the first time he had ever slept beside a woman, but when she turned around and gave him a smile every fear vanished. Even though it was a tired smile, there was still so much energy and love behind it.

“Is this okay?”, he asked softly as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Katsuki, you almost just had sex with me. Yes it’s okay if you hold me.”, she giggled.

“Just asking.”, he huffed and brought her closer to him. The way she gently placed her head on his chest or how she carefully wrapped her arms around his torso made his heart burst with adoration. She was adoreable!

“Goodnight, Katsuki.”, she muttered against his chest.

“‘Night, Y/N.”, he smiled to himself because now he finally got what he wanted.

-

You woke up to see a blonde messy head of hair in front of you. Katsuki was still asleep... he looked so peaceful and relaxed. You smiled fondly at the view that was the man in front of you.

“You’re staring.”, Katsuki said with a low raspy morning voice.

“It’s not a crime to stare.”, you giggled. He opened one eye to look at you and you smiled brightly back at him.

“Goodmorning.”, you said. Katsuki muttered out something that was supposed to be a “goodmorning”.

“I think we’re getting breakfast up here soon... I should probably call and tell them to bring for two people.”, you turned around to reach for the phone. Katsuki wrapped his arms around your waist and burried his face into your back.

“As long as you stay in bed.”, his voice was muffled as he pressed a kiss on your spine. You chuckled and grabbed the hotel phone. It immediately went to the reception.

“Hi, could I get breakfast for two up to room 716?”, you asked kindly.

“Of course, ma’am. When would you like to recieve this?”, the clerk asked.

“Um... what time is it..?”

“It’s 8:30, ma’am.”

“Then maybe 9:15?”

“There’ll be a knock at your door at 9:15!” You said thank you and goodbye before hanging up the phone. To much of Katsuki’s protests, you got out of bed and walked over to the bathroom. In there you took a long shower to get your thoughts straight.

You liked Katsuki. He liked you. You almost had sex, but ended up just sleeping next to each other. It had happened with Aito before so why did this feel different? Was everything with Aito even love? Yes, in the beginning it was. It just turned twisted.

A shower wasn’t enough to get your thoughts straight, so you decided to just grumble over your problems another time.

“Are you done in there?”, Katsuki knocked on the door.

“Yeah, just give me a sec!”, you wrapped a towel around you and walked out.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Breakfast comes at 9:15, right?”, he asked.

“Yeah, I’ll just tell you if they come early.”, you smiled warmly.

“Thanks.”, he pressed yet another kiss to the top of your head and was about to walk into the bathroom.

“Hey, Katsuki?”, you stopped him.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for staying last night.”, you spoke with honesty. You probably wouldn’t have slept last night if it wasn’t for him.

“No problem, I wanted to.”, he grinned and finally walked into the bathroom.

There it was. Want- not need. He didn’t need to stay last night. He doesn’t need you. He wanted to stay last night. He wants to be with you. That’s the different between him and Aito.

Aito was only with you because he needed things from you. Katsuki wants to be with you. What you were feeling was the feeling of being wanted.

The knock at the door was almost immediately at 9:15. The service lady was very nice and helped you get the food inside the room. Your phone got a notification just after she left. It was from Mina telling you to check out and article. The article’s title?

The lead singer of the Crimson Crypt, Katsuki Bakugo, comes back and reveals who the angel he’d been singing about was. Crimson Crypt singer, Katsuki Bakugo, surprised everyone by coming back after being at the hospital for months. He started his new chapter by coming out on stage during the last Crimson Crypt tour. As he started singing the song he himself had written, “Angel on Earth”, it was clear to everyone who his angel really was. By the end of the song he approached fellow singer, Y/N Y/L/N, and well... you can see for yourself what happened in the clip below, recorded by a fan who was in the crowd.

You were about to click play on the video when Katsuki walked out of the bathroom.

“I was just about to go get you.”, you smiled and put down your phone.

The two of you ate breakfast in a comfortable silence. You really just wanted to tell him, that you wanted him too, but you really didn’t know how.

“Are you alright?”, Katsuki suddenly asked you.

“Huh?”, you looked up at his worried gaze.

“You’ve been staring at the same point for like five minutes. You okay?”, he took a sip of his coffee.

“I want you.”

-

Katsuki almost spat out the coffee he was drinking, lucky for the cleaners he didn’t and he just started coughing.

“I’m sorry, what?”, he chuckled as he looked over at her redened face.

“I didn’t mean it like sexually, okay?”, she hurried to say, “I just wanted you to know that I want something with you.” He was going to say something when there were loud noices coming from outside. The two looked out the floor to ceiling window. Paparazzi were going insane! Mina had just walked out the building with her signature foax fur, the rest of the band following close behind. Katsuki watched as they all got into a car and the car drove away, but not before Mina waved up to your window.

“They planned this, didn’t they?”, Y/N sighed.

“Looks like it.”, he covered his eyes with the back of his hand when the cameras started flashing their way.

“Hey.”, she turned to him, “I just want you to know, this is only going to work if we want each other and not need each other.”

“Lucky for you, I really want you.”, he grabbed your hips and pulled you in closer.

“Then let’s make it official.”, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he bent down to kiss you.

[shimmeringclouds]

♔ | 𝐈𝐕

»»-----　♔　-----««

Chorosuke had long since given up on trying to kick the two out, seeing as they had absolutely no intention of moving. Instead, he hesitantly sat himself down amongst you all, eating with a sour frown on his face directed towards Ozo, who either didn't notice or didn't care.

"So, why Akashika?" Ozo asked suddenly after a few moments. You stifled a laugh at the crumbs scattering his cheeks, taking a sip of water to stall for time, noticing how all eyes were now on you.

"Well," you started, pushing your food around lightly with your chopstick, "I just wanted to go on a holiday for a little while. Akashika seemed like the best place." You shrugged nonchalantly, going back to eating your food.

"Akashika? Really?" Ozo drawled, raising a brow.

"Is.. Is there something wrong with that?" you asked nervously.

"Not really," Chorosuke replied, a thoughtful look on his face. "It's just that, since Akashika District is a small village in the countryside, not many people know that this place even exists. We rarely ever get visitors, other than those who already have a direct connection to this place."

You hummed. That did make sense, in a way.

"How did you find out about this place, anyway?" Ozo pushed, resting his chin on his palm.

"I came across an article online about Akatsuka Village," You paused, thinking about the contents of the article with a slight smile. "It was talking about a bunch of mysteries this place has, and after a bit of digging around, I found that this area of Japan was quiet and unknown, which was convenient for me."

"'Mysteries,' you say..." Chorosuke groaned.

"'Convenient?'" Ozo asked.

"Karamatsu-niisan must've wrote that article!" Jyushimatsu chimed in.

"Karatsugu." Chorosuke iterated.

Your mind raced to come up with an answer to Ozo, leaning away from him as he came closer, waiting for you to say something.

"Uh, 'convenient' as in..." you cleared your throat, "..I-I've never been to the countryside before. I've always lived in the city, so I wanted to start somewhere that wasn't overwhelmed by tourists and such." You ended with a nervous chuckle, which quickly died down under Ozo's unreadable stare. Should.. Should you say something? Did he even listen to what you said? Why was he looking at you like that? Your cheeks turned pink the longer he held your gaze.

"Ozo," Chorosuke kicked him from under the table, a 'huff' leaving said man's lips. "Stop being creepy. Ignore him, [Y/N]."

"Yeah, yeah..." Ozo muttered something under his breath, which you couldn't quite hear, but it didn't seem to matter as his grin came back onto his face.

"How long are you staying for, [Y/N]-chan?" Jyushimatsu suddenly spoke from beside you, making you squeak. You did your best to ignore the chuckles from Ozo and Dayoko, although the flush on your cheeks only darkened in embarrassment.

"T-Two months."

"Aw, that's it?" Ozo whined. "Well hopefully by the end of it, you'll want to stay for longer!" He winked your way. You glanced away, taking larger sips of water to distract yourself. With that, everyone focused back on their food, finishing the last bits from their bowls. It was mostly silent, save for the clinking of utensils and the gentle song of birds from outside, adding a sort of serenity to the air. It was comforting, an atmosphere you very much appreciated. It was a far cry from what you were used to.

Eventually, you all let out a hum of satisfaction, praising Dayoko for the fulfilling meal. Ozo and Jyushimatsu lay comfortably on the floor, spreading out their limbs as they shut their eyes, large sleepy grins on their faces. You smiled softly at their antics. With the way they acted, you would have thought they were brothers. You didn't want to jump straight to conclusion, though. You'd probably make things awkward if you said something like that.

Dayoko stood up and began gathering everyone's dishes. You attempted to get up and help, feeling bad about her doing all the work, but she waved you off with a smile. Chorosuke placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, gaining your attention.

"[Y/N], why you don't you head on upstairs, instead?" He offered with a smile. "I've had a bath drawn for you. I'm sure it will help you relax before heading off to bed. You've had a long day, after all."

"Can we have one too?" Ozo perked his head up, eyes hopefully.

"No." Chorosuke shot sternly, glaring at the man as he let his head fall back to the floor with a grumble.

"Choromatsu-niisan's no fun..." Jyushimatsu's voice was muffled, his face pushed against the floor.

"Stop calling me that.." Chorosuke was exasperated by now, but he opted to ignore the both of them, turning back to you expectantly. You mulled over the offer. A soothing bath after a warm meal sounded very appealing to you, especially since your back did feel a little sore still after sitting on a rocky train for most of the day.

"That sounds lovely, actually. Thank you, Chorosuke," you smiled appreciatively, slowly picking yourself up from the floor.

"It's nothing. Our guests always receive the best of treatment here in the Midorito Estate," he stated proudly with a bow of his head. Ozo glared up at him from the floor.

"Careful. You're rising again, Chorofappysk-"

A pillow was thrown harshly onto his face, startling him as his head smacked onto the ground with a hollow 'thud.' You gasped, covering your mouth to hide the giddy smile from the others in the room. You felt bad that he got hurt, but you couldn't deny that their childish ways of bickering was starting to become comedic for you.

Dayoko re-entered the room before things could escalate, hooking her arm with yours.

"Ah, Dayoko!" Chorosuke's smile was thin and forced, his brow twitching dangerously as the pillow he threw hit against his side. "Could you please escort our guest to the washroom while I deal with those?"

Dayoko looked unimpressed, not even replying to her brother as she tugged you out of the room, closing the door behind her without so much as a second glance. As soon as it slid shut, loud voices erupted as an argument broke out. You managed to pick out a few insults that were so ridiculous, you couldn't help but splutter a laugh. You tried to cover your mouth to stop them leaving your mouth, but eventually, you couldn't hold it in any longer.

"S-Sorry..!" You apologised to Dayoko through your bouts of laughter, clutching at your stomach as you followed her on shaky legs down the hallways. She looked at you for a moment in surprise before joining in with a playful roll of her eyes. You both giggled and chuckled endlessly, almost completely breathless by the time you had made it to the washroom.

Slowly, you both regained your composure, wiping a couple of stray tears from the corners of your eyes. Dayoko sighed happily.

"Dayon! Dayon!"

'That's the most I've laughed in a while!'

You smiled brightly along with her. "Same here!"

Dayoko took your hand, opening the door to the washroom to reveal, yet another, large washroom. It was slightly steamy in the room, a low mist of wafting over the tiled flooring, which was emitting from a wide bathtub on the other side of the room. You glanced around with wide eyes. The mirrors were somehow clear of any fog, the small plants scattered around the room were perked up and lively, the towels looked so soft and fluffy, hell -- even the toilet seemed to sparkle in its environment.

The girl tugged on your hand, snapping you out of your daze. She wore an amused smile on her face, but didn't comment on your surprised look.

"Dayon, dayon..."

She began telling you where everything you needed would be, and that she would leave fresh set nightwear for you to put on once you were done. You thanked her profusely once more as she left you to your own devices, closing the door to give you privacy.

You looked around, somehow feeling unsure of where to even start.

'..That's stupid,' you thought to yourself with a shake of your head. You began stripping down, neatly placing your clothes in a basket nearby so they could be washed later. Then, you moved over to the bathtub, gingerly placing the tip of your toe into the water, delighted to find it just the right temperature.

You slid in, settling down comfortably with a long sigh of relief, feeling the tension in your muscles fading away. There was a faint aroma of lavender and peppermint in the air, and you took deep and steady breaths to help clear your mind for a moment. It was truly heavenly, sitting in the warm water with your eyes closed and body relaxed. You wished you could do something like this all the time, but of course your situation back home wouldn't allow any kind of relaxation for you...

Another sigh left you, heavy and full of built up emotions. You brought a damp hand up to your face, resting it against your forehead as you frowned sadly. Your chest felt tight for a moment as a memory flashed through your mind. Your ears rang with loud voices, yelling and screaming, a complete one-eighty from what you had just heard downstairs a few minutes ago. It made your head throb uncomfortably, and your eyes suddenly prickled with un-shed tears.

'No,' you thought immediately. You sat up and reached over to a shelf beside you, grabbing a bottle of shampoo that Dayoko had pointed out to you earlier. You squirted a handful of the liquid into your hand, the scent of cherries hitting your nose as you began lathering it into your hair, using the time to give yourself a brief massage over your scalp.

'I have two months to not think about that,' you reminded yourself, finally pushing away any other intruding thoughts from your mind as you busied yourself with washing up.

After a nice long while relaxing and cleansing yourself, you stumbled out of the bath, rubbing at your wet skin with a towel (which was just as fluffy as it looked). You looked over to the door, finding your nightwear and undergarments folded neatly on a small tabletop beside a pot of blooming Dahlias. You admired their vibrant layered petals for a moment before taking your clothes

You slipped on your oversized short sleeved shirt and shorts, perfect for the warm summer night, briefly ruffling your hair with the towel before exiting the washroom. Upon not seeing Dayoko nearby, you decided to make your own way to your bedroom, somewhat confident in being able to find it yourself.

It was clear to you, though, that after only a few turns, you found yourself lost.

"How can I get lost in a house?" you muttered with slight panic. You glanced behind you, turning around. "I'll just... head back to the washroom. She's probably there right now, waiting for me..."

You turned back down the corridor you were sure you had just come from, but... you couldn't' find it. You couldn't' find the washroom you had just been in two seconds ago. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you wondered if it would be childish to start calling out for her, or Chorosuke, to come and help you. Just as you were about to make a decision, a set of footsteps sounded behind you.

You breathed a sigh if relief, turning with a sheepish smile.

"Finished with your bath already? And here I was thinking I could jump in with you!"

You froze, cheeks ablaze for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. It was Ozo, not Chorosuke or Dayoko, wandering causally down the corridor towards you, a hand tucked into his trouser pocket. He kept walking until he stopped right in front of you, leaning against the wall.

" 'Sup?"

»»-----　♔　-----««

[thisistenhyungsunderwear]

Hey! I was wondering if you could please do a really soft and really fluffy Byeongkwan smut? I don't really have an idea for the plot (sorry!) But I was thinking something along the lines of best friends to lovers with Byeongkwan, he thinks it's a one time thing but the reader assures him it isn't and that she loves him. I hope that's okay and that you have a good day!

Here you go love!!

Group: Ace

Dom!Byeongkwan, Sub!Reader

Warnings: soft sex, really fluffy lovey stuff, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it)

Word Count: 2449

On your way home, your phone went off, and the from the ringtone you knew exactly who it was. So at the next red light, you quickly rushed to open your message and response.

Byeongkwanie

Y/n come to to dorm~

The boys all left let's have a sleepover !!

Y/n

Uh huhh

On my way :))

You threw your phone back down on the seat and waited for the green light and did an immediate u-turn back towards the direction of A.C.E's dorm.

You didn't need a bag with clothes or a toothbrush, you practically lived at the boy's dorm at this point. So everything you needed was already there in Byeongkwan's room and the bathroom. You went there fast, and wasted no time running up into the dorm, excited to spend the night with your best friend again.

For the fourth time this week. 

The trip up the stairs was short, they only lived a few floors up, and the doors were unlocked because he was of course, expecting you. 

"What is up my favorite human being." You announced as you walked through the door and into the living room, a wild Byeongkwan relaxing on the couch. He jumped at the sound of your voice, but quickly settled down once he realized it was just you. 

"Why hello there. That was quick." He said getting up and giving you a fast hug. "Sweats and tshirt on on the bed." He told you before walking to the kitchen to grab you two some food. 

You smiled and skipped to his bedroom, where he layed out your favorite pair of sweats and one of his oversized tshirts, which you were one to always steal from him. You threw off your jeans and hoodie and quickly put on the comfy clothes, instant relief and happiness washing over you. 

You walked back out to the living room and Byeongkwan had set up snacks and drinks and a cute little rom com on the TV for you two.

"Movie night!" he looked at you with pure adoration and excitement, which made you giggle at his childlike attitude. You nodded and plopped down beside him, not forgetting to pick up the blanket on the arm of the couch for the two of you. 

He leaned back and you opened and threw the blanket over the two of you and cuddles into his side as he pressed play and leaned into you. 

The movie was cute, but it wasn't something you were most interested in. You tried to pay attention, but you kept getting lost in your thoughts and getting distracted a little too easily. Byeongkwan on the other hand was far gone in the movie, so much he didn't even acknowledge your disinterest and constant movement. 

You started shuffling more and more, maybe from the fact that your legs were falling asleep under you, or that you wanted to get his attention and possibly change the movie without telling him straight up, either way you were not comfortable and needed to change. 

You were sitting on the spot where the cushions met each other, so your body had long ago sunken into the gap and you started to push yourself up and backwards, and the closest thing for leverage was of course, Byeongkwan's thigh.

You rested your hand on his upper thigh and used almost all of your strength to push yourself up and further into his side. 

"Y/n.." He said as he tensed up from the sudden contact. Yeah you two were best friends, and yeah you played around. Skinship was no secret between you two, but where your hand was under the blanket, and the setting you two were in, Byeongkwan's heart was going a mile a minute because of you. 

"Yeah?" You asked, turning your head to look at him. You in the middle of pushing yourself all the way up, and the position you were in, when you turned your head, you were nose to nose with Byeongkwan who was staring down at you, watching your every movement.

Your breathing hitched when you noticed then proximity, and your gaze kept shifting between his eyes and the position of your faces. You locked eyes with him and tried to read his eyes, but it was too dark and you couldn't read his mind this time around. 

"Byeongkwan.." you whispered as your voice trailed off. Neither of you had moved from your position. It was almost as though you two wanted the same things but neither of you wanted to do it first. Tension built up in the air as you shifted between his eyes again. He kept a steady stare into yours, his face was hard as if he was lost in his own thoughts. 

Neither of you did anything, so when your arm began to give out from holding you up, you started to slowly shift backwards and let your elbow bend to lower you back down. 

Byeongkwan barely gave you a second to start moving before he shot his hand up to grab your attention and halt your movements. You looked back up at him and he quickly shifted his gaze between your eyes before making his final decision.

He reached up with his hand and put it on the side of your cheek, swiping his thumb across the high of your cheekbone and leaning down. He got centimeters away from your lips, his breathing hard and nervous. His heart never went faster, his adrenaline never shot so high. He stopped right before he made contact, giving you a chance to pull back. But you didn't. You froze in your spot, and waited for him to close the proximity. You palms sweated against his thigh and the couch.

He saw no hesitation or disinterest in his actions so, with a deep breath he allowed your lips to meet. At first it was still, just the feeling of him against you. You let your body relax and lean down but didn't disconnect your lips with him. He queued in on the change in your body language and slowly began to move his lips against yours. A million words behind the emotion in his kiss spoke to you at once. 

You kissed him back, moving your lips against his and brought your hand up from the couch cushion to his chest, where you felt the rapidness of his heart beat. This made yours only race more, you felt the pounding inside your chest get faster and faster, it felt like your chest was going to explode. 

Byeongkwan slowly worked his way with his mouth as he leaned forward into you, pushing you backwards on the couch and getting on top of you. He supported himself with one arm as he took the other and held the back of your head so you would land softly on the couch cushion underneath you. 

"Tell me now, if you want me to stop. If you don't want to go further." He whispered as he pulled back, anxiously searching you for hesitation. You smiled at his concern and took a deep breath before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and playing with his messy hair.

"I want this right now, just you." You said with a small smile breaking out on your face. He nodded and reconnected your lips. You shifted a little underneath his, opening your legs so you could hook them around his hips and place his core against your own. He groaned from the new contact and licked your lower lip, begging for permission to deepen the kiss. You gladly granted it to him, opening your mouth.

You didn't fight for dominance, you let him in submissively as he left no corner of your mouth untouched. 

You matched his heavier pace and took one of your arms to drag down from the back of his neck to the collar of his shirt, pulling on it a little bit, telling him to take it off. He pulled back and quickly pulled the back of his shirt over his neck and threw it down next to the couch.

You sat up slightly and took the hem of the shirt and lifted it over your head and let it hang off the arm of the couch behind you. 

He smiled and went back down, attaching his lips to the spot where your neck met your ear and lightly kissed and sucked his way down, both of your bare chests creating delicious friction against each other. 

Your hands shot up to the back of his neck when he attached his lips to your nipple, sucking it lightly, playing with the other in his other hand. You arched your back and started to grind your hips against him begging for friction from him. He ran his hands against the sides of your torso, kissing in between the valley of your breasts to give your other nipple the same amount of attention as he gave the other one. You let out a little whimper, shutting your eyes and getting lost in the feeling. He smiled against your chest and started to kiss down the center of your stomach where he reached the waistband of your sweats.

He said nothing as he looked up at you, giving you one last chance to bail out from going any further. You nodded and bucked your hips up, telling him to do it. He nodded and sat up on his knees, wrapping his fingers into the waistband of your sweats and underwear and pulling them down and off of your legs. 

He placed his palms on the inner part of your thigh and spread your legs for him even wider. Not even the darkness of the living room could hide how wet you were for him.

"So beautiful." He whispered, and it felt like he wasn't even saying it to you. He said it without even thinking you could hear him.

"No fair, your turn." You pouted, sitting up and tugging on the waistband of his sweatpants. He chuckled and nodded, quickly standing up and pulling them down, and then taking his spot in between your legs. 

"The amount of things I want to do to you right now," He said staring down at your naked figure in awe. His eyes shone with never leaving adoration and love.

"Don't care, I need you now. Please. I need to feel you." You whispered desperately, your core ached from the lack of attention, your wetness dripping down your core. You were so ready for him, just the idea of him made you wet.

"Your wish is my command." He said leaning down to your level. He lined himself up with your entrance, dragging his tip up and down your core, collecting your wetness over him. You bucked your hips and shot your hand up to grip his bicep.

He positioned himself once again and slowly lurched forward into you, his eyes never leaving your face as it contorted in pleasure, your grip on his arm tightening even more. 

"Holy shit-" You whispered as he bottomed out. He stayed there for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the size of him. He filled you up so perfectly and it almost made you cum right then and there.

After a minute you tapped his arm and gave him the signal to continue. He slowly began thrusting into you slowly rocking his hips into you. He grunted each time he pushed into you, your core contracting around him every time.

"So tight" He praised, slightly picking up the pace and leaning down to connect your lips. It wasn't necessarily a kiss, just a way to connect you two in more than one way.  He rocked into you at a steady pace that created tiny whimpers from you. 

He pulled back from the kiss, his forehead starting to bead with sweat, and he rested his head in the crook of your neck, supporting himself on his forearms next to your head. When the kiss was disconnected you opened your mouth and let the tiny whimpers and moans escape into the quiet room. 

Your sounds of pleasure only encouraged him, and he slightly picked up his pace, as he sat back up and used his hand to traced small circles over your clit.

"Byeongkwan, fuck" You moaned as you arched your back. You grinded your hips to meet his thrusts, and took your free hands to massage your breasts, exceeding the most amount of pleasure you could get. 

"Shit I'm so close." You whine at the growing pit in your stomach, his circles around your clit increasing pace.

"Hold on, i'm almost there." He said, his once consistent pace getting sloppier. He started to go faster and threw his head back in pleasure. 

"Shit okay now." He said as he increased his speed to the max before pulling out and releasing his seed onto your stomach. You reached your highs at the same time, your body jolting with the never ending pleasure of his fingers on your sensitive spot. He didn't stop his fingers until you rode out the very ends of your high and bucked your hips from the sensitivity of your climax. 

He slouched down slightly, reeling in and collecting his thoughts. You smiled and let your body relax and loosened all your muscles, the sounds of your labored breathing being the only sounds in the room. 

Once you two relaxed, you looked up at his tired, kneeling figure. So you shuffled over to the side, giving him enough space to lay down next to you. He gladly took the position and layed down on his right side, back against the back of the couch. You reached to the floor next to you and threw the blanket over you as he wrapped his left arm around your waist and drew circles on your stomach. 

You two were silent for a while, but at one moment he decided to break the silence, the awkward tension could be cut by a knife. 

"Y/n," He said quietly, "is this...is this just an in the moment thing. Do you want me to pretend this didn't happen. Do you...Do you feel anything after this?" he rambled, you could hear the anxiety ridden in his voice. 

"Byeongkwan, I, I really like you." you confessed, your heart racing. "I dont, I dont want this to be forgotten, I want you. If, If you'll have me?" you asked.

"I love you." He said quietly, looking up at you."

"And I love you. Always."

[rhnuzlocke]

Chapter Three: All Down the Line

“Renko! Kai desu!”

Ren scrambled up and slung her bag over one shoulder as Tāraki jumped to the other. Kai and Jay were standing in the doorway chatting with her mother when they came barreling down the stairs.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Let’s go!” she answered, pulling him out the door behind her. “Itte kimasu!”

“Bye, Mrs. Kosugi!”

“Ki o tsukete!” she called after them.

Ren only released Kai once they were on Route 101, and he took the lead as they plunged off it into the dense woodland. Tāraki skittered, climbed and jumped his way along in the most inefficient way possible while Jay trotted easily at Kai’s heels, tilting her head this way and that to carefully observe their surroundings. Tāraki wanted to challenge nearly every wild pokemon they stumbled across, but for once, Ren remained firm in her refusals, intent on reaching their destination without unnecessary delay.

Ren didn’t notice anything unusual, but Kai stopped and gestured for her to look. Quite suddenly, her mind picked up the pattern, and she murmured softly to herself in awe. What had at first seemed to be a mossy and fern-covered hillside was actually squared blocks of stone grown over by the surrounding forest, each nearly as tall as she was.

Tāraki scurried up them easily and shrilled back down at Jay to join him. The Torchic ran along its length to where the blocks marched into the turf and scaled the embankment that way.

“It’s called Maioro Rahi.”

“It does look like a big wall,” said Ren, marveling at the great tree that grew at the top, its roots snaking through and framing the stones below.

“Stories say no one built it, that it’s always been, so it’s probably the result of volcanic activity.”

“It’s awesome either way. Thanks for bringing me out here, dude,” she said and nudged his arm to break the slack look on his face.

They walked around for a while to explore it from different angles and climbed the tree with Tāraki. This time, it was Kai’s turn pull Ren up, and she laughed at how embarrassed he got when she remarked on his strength. She cajoled him into an arm wrestling match and won handily, though he was probably still too flustered and afraid of falling out of the tree to do as well as he could have.

They wound up tucked against the base of the wall for lunch and chatted easily while Kai scratched in his notebook, and Ren lay back in the leaf litter, tracing circles across the canopy with the toe of her shoe. Jay flitted in and out of view, bringing back seeds and other small items for Ren to examine and Kai to explain while he sketched them. Meanwhile, Tāraki busied himself chasing Taillow and Wurmple from the branches as he swung around.

Jay trilled, crest raised to full attention, and Kai squinted off into the trees where she was looking.

“Hmm. You’re right. Hey Ren, seems like a Poochyena has been watching us.” He pointed out a tree at a ways off which only partially obscured the wild pokemon.

“It looks different,” Ren observed. The base color was the familiar cool gray, but it had a black stripe down its spine and many more scattered across its sides, legs, and tail. It still had the black mask and throat, but its paws were gray. From the stiffening of its posture, Ren concluded that it noticed them looking, but it didn’t move.

“It’s a Striped variant. Almost all the ones around here are Cloaked. That’s because Stripers are usually the result of a Manectric or Arcanine cross. You see them sometimes along the inner coast or from breeders. So either this one has traveled a long way or some asshole is releasing the pups they don’t want.”

Ren blinked at the unfamiliar anger in his tone and sat up. “Jay, would you see if it will talk to us? I’ve got some food left.”

That let off some of the tension, and Kai flipped to a fresh page in his notebook while Jay and the Poochyena conferred across the distance.

“She asked that we not approach and just toss the food to her, but she’ll stay for a while.” Kai repeated for Ren’s benefit. Jay grumbled beside him, and he hummed in amusement. “Jay also adds that she is ‘kind of rude.’”

Ren chuckled. “Understood.”

The Poochyena slunk closer but stopped well out of range, and Ren tossed her the promised berry and a stick of jerky to sweeten the deal. The Poochyena sat and accepted the food, but her hackles remained stiff. From this distance, Ren could see a notch in her ear, pale scars on her muzzle, and a break in her fur that must have been a long slash across her shoulder.

“She came from north of here,” Kai reported as he made notes for himself. “The only Stripers she’s seen were her siblings. Now there’s only her.”

Tāraki clicked and squeaked. The Poochyena’s hackles stood all the way up, making her look far larger.

“Don’t scare her off, Tāraki,” Ren admonished. “I know she looks like a great opponent, but you’re only allowed to battle pokemon who want to battle you, too.”

The Treecko harrumphed and flopped to the ground, flashing his pale belly. The Poochhyena ignored this probable insult and relaxed a little, fixing her red eyes on Ren.

“Did she get those scars from battles?”

The Poochyena continued to look at Ren as she answered, even though she was speaking to Jay.

“She says that’s how to survive. Pokemon draw strength from battling, but it’s risky… Wow, that’s a pretty good summary of the current research. It never occurred to me to ask a pokemon if they thought about it that way.”

“Would you like to train with us?”

What made you ask her?  

“She’d been through a lot, and she seemed… lonely. I thought maybe I could give her a family again. And there was something in her eyes too. I knew right then that she’d never give up, that she’d always be herself and live the way she chose. I guess I admired her even then.”

That’s how you decided her name?  

“Yes, that’s why I chose it.”

Kai looked at her in surprise, and the Poochyena cocked her head.

“Tāraki could use a battle partner,” Ren explained.

So, not the answer you gave at the time?  

“No, not the answer I gave.”

Tāraki had stepped up to make the offer while they were distracted, and Jay stepped between them when he became incensed at whatever she said back.

“She wants to battle you and Tāraki first, because no matter how tough it is out here, she’s better off on her own than with a bad trainer.” Kai explained, then muttered to Jay: “I see what you mean about her being rude.”

“Sounds fair to me.” Ren stood. “Ready, Tāraki?

Tāraki nodded, muscles coiling. The Poochyena crouched.

“It’s over when I say it is,” Ren warned. “Pound her left shoulder!”

The Poochyena tried to dodge, but Tāraki was faster and sent her tumbling. But to Ren’s surprise, she rolled right back to her feet and came straight at him.

“Aim low!”

Tāraki hit her front legs, and she flipped from the momentum. Tāraki slammed her belly while it was exposed, but she grabbed his tail, and sparks flew from her jaws. Tāraki fell to one knee, trembling.

“Paralysis!” Ren murmured under her breath, then aloud: “Watch out!”

The Poochyena took immediate advantage of Tāraki’s immobility and barreled into him. He was knocked back but landed on his feet.

“You’re not going to be able to outspeed her anymore. Absorb!”

The Poochyena slowed as her energy drained, and Tāraki managed to roll to the side in time.

“Let her come to you.”

Tāraki seized up as the Poochyena came at him, and the Tackle sent him sliding back.

“Backflip!” Ren yelled.

This time Tāraki backflipped just as the Poochyena closed, hitting her jaws shut with his tail. She went reeling back and collapsed. Tāraki stood to his full height, readying an attack.

“Enough!” The force of it stilled him immediately, and he looked back at Ren. “Good job, Shima.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a paralyze heal. He hummed with satisfaction as the sparking stiffness left his limbs. “You’re an amazing battler.”

Tāraki let out a gurgle that ended with “Ren.”

Ren smiled at him and then blinked as it dawned on her. “Did I just understand you?”

Tāraki gurgled.

“You said my name! I heard you say my name!”

“Ren!” This time it was as clear as day.

Ren squealed and swept Tāraki up in her arms, hugging him tight.

“Ren! Ren! Ren!” he chanted, and she spun them around and around, tossing him higher and higher until he grabbed onto a low branch and stayed there.

“Tāraki!” she whined. “Come back down here!”

He snickered at her and stuck out his tongue, and Ren hopped around under the branch for a minute, full of energy but unable to reach him. She eventually calmed and turned back to the others.

Thankfully, the Poochyena had stayed through their antics, and Ren reached into her bag for a potion. She kneeled down, and the Poochyena eyed her cautiously.

“Let me heal you up, okay?”

She didn’t look away but did lower her head slightly and let Ren spray her down. Ren pulled out a pokeball and held it up.

“What do you say?”

The Poochyena’s red eyes bored into Ren’s for a moment longer, then she stepped forward and pressed her nose to the pokeball’s button. She was swept up in a flash of red light before disappearing inside. The pokeball’s indicator flashed green, and her nav played a little tune.

“Was it just me, or did she use Thunder Fang?” Kai asked as Ren looked down at the pokeball, a soft smile on her face.

“Guess you were right about the Manectric heritage.” Tāraki dropped back down to her shoulder. “Think you two can get along?”

Tāraki made a show of considering it but gave her a thumbs up.

Ren released the Poochyena from her ball. “I’d like to call you Akahana, if that’s alright?”  

She nodded once, and Ren’s smile broadened.

“Welcome to the family.”

...

Ren and her pokemon wandered through wild woods with Tāraki hopping through the canopy while Akahana trailed by Ren’s side. She lifted her head in Tāraki’s direction and let out a muffled woof. He replied with a smug negative. Soon enough, the trees began to thin, and sunlight thicken ahead of them. Balmy air swaddled them as they emerged onto open fields of grass. Kai sat on the bank of a large pond beside tall bullrushes and squat sedges that looked like tiny Nassy. Jay lay napping at his side but lifted her head as they approached.

“Hey Kai! How’s it going?”

“Good! Jay and I did some battling this morning. How about you?”

“We did some drills.”

“I feel great!” Tāraki piped, bouncing to and fro while Jay eyed him wearily.

“He’s still pretty hyped up.” Ren explained and sat down next to Kai, close enough that she bumped his shoulder as she settled. “Whatcha working on?”

Kai reddened and pulled his white beanie down a bit but tilted his notebook towards her. “I’ve been counting and sketching the different Masquerain variants on this pond. See, Masquerain sort of mimic their predators—mostly birds or other bug-types in the area. So, unlike most variants, they tend to overlap, and you often see several on a single pond.” He pointed them out to her. “So far I’ve seen Ninja, Kite, and Pale.”

“These are great,” said Ren, leaning in to see better. “You draw so well.”

He reddened even further. “Not really…”

Ren elbowed him. “Just take the compliment!”

“Okay,” he murmured quietly. “Thanks.”

“So many!” Tāraki exclaimed. He grabbed at Ren’s shirt. “Can I battle a few? Can I? Please!”

Akahana’s brow lowered, and her tail gave a derisive twitch.

“Aka’s right. Those things have a double type advantage on you. It’s one thing to battle Wurmples, but those mons have evolved. Maybe when we’ve trained a bit more.”

Tāraki groaned and danced from foot to foot before suddenly perking up again. “What about a Surskit? I could totally take a Surskit!”

“That’s a better match up. Do you mind, Kai? I don’t want to mess up your work.”

“Nah, I’m done here.”

Ren surveyed the Surskits skimming across the surface of the pond, and a gleam caught her eye. It came off a Surskit’s cap that looked more like brass than the pale yellow of the others and framed a bright red spot on its forehead.

“What kind is that one?”

Kai squinted at it, then whipped out his pokedex. “I’m not sure. It looks kind of like a Ninja, but that doesn’t explain the red spot.” He went back to looking through the identification photos. “That’s funny, there’s a different Ninja variant in Kalos that it resembles a bit too… See, the problem is that it’s hard to tell when they’re Surskits. The mimicry hasn’t fully developed. When they evolve—”

Ren threw out a hand to cover his mouth, and he went red again. The Surskit in question had noticed them staring at it and looked very nervous.

“Tāraki,” she said quietly, “why don’t you ask it nicely for a battle?”

Tāraki took a step towards the water and called out to the Surskit. “Want to battle with me? My trainer will heal you and give you some food!”

It glanced around in confusion and skittered back a bit, politely declining.

“Aw, come on! You have a type advantage.”

It stopped backing away and considered. Jay trilled and buffeted Tāraki with her wing, but he just snickered. Akahana sighed and rolled her eyes. The Surskit took a half step out and chittered.

“My trainer wouldn’t let me kill you,” Tāraki responded. “Right, Akahana?”

She gave a nod, and the Surskit skimmed up slowly, pausing near the bank.

“Took a little convincing, huh? Let her make the first move.”

Tāraki readied himself, and the Surskit crouched. The stinger atop her head glowed lime-green, and she launched herself at Tāraki. He dodged but she kept jabbing until she hit his tail. He fell on his side.

“Spin!”

Tāraki spun, righting himself and knocking the Surskit off her feet. She responded by spinning on her stinger like a top and slashing him with her feet.

“Get out of range and use Absorb!”

Tāraki backflipped away and fired off a green orb. The Surskit slowed and rolled back onto her feet.

“Nice! Now Pound!”

Tāraki leapt forward, but the Surskit countered with another Fell Stinger. Tāraki shuddered again.

“Her side!”

This time Tāraki was fast enough, and the Surskit went rolling away. She slumped, and Tāraki jumped over to her, placing a hand on her head. She looked at the ground, clearly defeated.

“Nice job!”

Tāraki let her up, looking pleased with himself, and the Surskit began to shuffle back towards the water.

“Hey wait! Don’t you want some food or something?” Ren called. “Tāraki got you pretty good. Come sit by us for a bit at least so you can recover.”

The Surskit turned back, and Ren fished a berry out of her bag, placing it on the ground a few feet away from her. Tāraki sat down beside her and gestured encouragingly to the Surskit. She looked cautiously up at them, and Ren smiled. Akahana grumbled lowly, and Jay nodded in agreement, causing the Surskit to hide her face.

Ren worried for a moment about what they might be saying, but when the Surskit uncovered her face, she seemed happier and settled down to eat.

“She really is between the two,” said Kai now that he had a closer view. “She could be a mutt. It’s rare, especially in species like Masquerain, but it can happen.” He continued to explain variant mechanics, and Ren only half listened while she watched the pokemon socialize.

And what made you ask her?

“For a pokemon so skittish and fearful, she seemed almost desperately glad to have company to talk to. And that felt odd to me, with how many Surskit were around. I realized her looks must have made her stick out sorely, and I know how tough that can be.”

“Would you like to train with us?” Ren asked out of nowhere, startling everyone. “You seem a little shy, so maybe it isn’t your game, but I think you could be a battler.”

Tāraki passed this on, and the Surskit stood up, clearly disbelieving, and looked to Akahana for confirmation. The Poochyena seemed quite surprised as well but nodded. A tremble went through the Surskit but she stilled herself and marched up to Ren. She nodded fiercely and met Ren’s eyes for the first time.

“Awesome! Welcome to the team!” Ren held out a ball, and the Surskit tapped the button and flowed inside.

“Are you building a team now?” Kai asked.

Surprise and confusion passed over Ren’s face before her eyes narrowed and her jaw set. “Maybe I am!”

...

Ren walked up an embankment through the gently swaying reeds surrounding the estuary, carrying Tāraki in her arms. Iki the Surskit perched on her head, and Akahana trailed in her wake. Her eyes scanned the open space along the edge of the treeline. There was a Wingull with a pink underside sitting alone on a low branch about a field-length distant, and Ren stopped in her tracks to focus on it.

“Is that the Wingull variant Kai has been on about since I met him?”

“Well, um, did he say they were pink?” Iki piped, trying to be helpful.

“Rosy!” Ren confirmed and started tromping towards it. She felt Iki’s feet dig into her hair. Ren paused again at a respectful distance away to snap for Kai. “Could you ask it to talk to us for a bit?”

Iki hunkered further down on Ren’s head, though there was little chance it would make her metallic cap any less conspicuous.

“Relax, little bug, you’re with us now,”  Ren reassured her, glancing up with amusement. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Iki fidgeted but called out a greeting to the Wingull.

“She says sure.”

“Great! I just hope Kai hasn’t turned off his nav… again.”

“It was quite a conversation. She told us all about the places she’s been and the things she’d seen. She told us about her colony and the chicks she’d raised, about her partner that fell prey to a Sneasel…”

And then she asked you.  

“Yeah, and it surprised me, but I suppose she wanted to start a new chapter.”

An orange sunset settled in over the trees behind them, casting its warm glow on the water below, by the time Kai came running with Jay in tow.

“I came as soon as I got your message!” he called across the shrinking distance. “Is it still there? Did you—”

Ren gestured to the Wingull on her shoulder. “No worries, dude. I got you.”

Kai squealed in delight, bouncing on the balls of his feet for a moment until his exertion caught up with him and he had to take a minute to catch his breath, hands on his knees.

“Kai, meet Panahi,”

“You caught her?”

“Yep! So let’s hold off on the interview until tomorrow. Or you could just read through my notes,” she said with a wink.

Kai sighed, melting on the spot. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” she said with a toss of her hair and then slipped her hand under his arm to pull him home.

“OH. Oh, wow. I’m such a bakayarou.”

Yes, I noticed some time ago.  

“Shut up.”

...

Akahana snarled, white teeth bared and black hackles raised. The big Zigzagoon opposite her shrank back ever so slightly before rushing her. The rest of the team watched Ren direct her from a nearby branch. Tāraki sat in the middle, allowing Iki to keep her distance from the new flying-type. Kai and Jay approached as Akahana lunged, sparks flying from her jaws, and grabbed the Zigzagoon by the shoulder. She tossed it, and it landed heavily on its side, legs too clumsy to catch it as the paralysis set in. It wisely stayed down.

“That’s my girl.” Ren stroked Akahana’s head. She offered a pair of berries to the Zigzagoon, who took them gladly and shuffled off into the underbrush.

Kai was still slack-jawed when she turned to greet him but stiffened when she met his eyes. The silence dragged as she looked him over, and her eyebrows met in puzzlement when he started to fidget.

“You alright?” she finally prompted.

“Yeah! Of course!” It was way too eager, not his brand of eager. “You’re all just improving so much! It’s kind of amazing. Not that—I mean you obviously know what you’re doing, and you’re really good at it, so I totally expected it. It’s just something else to see it, haha.”

It almost sounded like he was jealous, but she didn’t quite believe that. He’d won at least half their matches, and she was more than happy to teach him.

“We should train together some time. I’m sure Jay has a few moves she could show these gals.”

Jay puffed up a with pride, but Kai only looked more nervous if anything. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m not sure we’ll have time. Jay and I should really start packing and stuff.”

She blinked, and her brows set even lower. “You’re going away?”

“Yes, well, yeah…” He cleared his throat and tried to force his tone into something more nonchalant. “We’ve got plenty of data on the area now, and there are a lot of other locations we’d really like to check out. We were actually planning to leave earlier, but then we were waiting to see if we could confirm the Rosy Wingull sighting and we already did that a while ago, so, um, yeah.”

“When are you leaving?”

“As soon as we can get everything in order. So, like, the day after tomorrow probably.”

For a moment, Ren couldn’t control her face but then she wrestled it into her best attempt at a smile. “Aww, I’m gonna miss you, dude!”

“Wha?” he blubbered. He swallowed before trying again. “Uh, yeah?”

“Of course I am, you dork,” she said softly. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

He started fidgeting again and stared at the ground. “Yeah.”

Ren spread her arms. “Come here.” He didn’t move at first, but he had said it was okay before, and she chose to believe he had meant it, so she didn’t wait. He went rigid for a second but hugged her back. She straightened up and took hold of his shoulders, unable to let go as fast as he did. “Give me a call every once and awhile, alright?”

He tried to smile. “Sure.” She released him, and he edged away. “Ah, we should get going. Good luck with your training!” he called over his shoulder as he fled.

Jay nudged Ren’s leg, which wrenched her eyes down. The Torchic offered her a comforting rub and quiet little coo. Ren smiled back to reassure her, and Jay left, following in Kai’s wake.

...

Ren dried her hands after finishing the dishes while her mother continued to prep food for the next day. Ren sat back down at the table with her chin propped up by a hand her hand and groaned. Her father was sitting around the corner in the living room, reading a newspaper with his legs resting across his Ursaring’s back.

“I’m sorry to hear that Kai is leaving so soon,” said Asuka. “He’s such a nice boy.”

“He talks too much, but I’ll miss him anyway.” Ren muttered back in Nihongo.

“You know, you keep saying things like that, but I’m not sure I see it. He’s always perfectly charming when I speak with him.”

“I know. It drives me a little crazy actually. He’s so different when it’s just the two of us. He’ll be blabbing non-stop and all the sudden go painfully quiet. It seems like he’s having fun and then… I don’t know. Maybe my Anglic isn’t good enough.”

“Your Anglic is perfect,” said her father without looking up.

Ren rubbed at a spot on the table and said nothing.

“Did you know he was taught at home?” her mother asked. “His parents took care of his schooling, and he may not have had many friends his age before. Maybe he is not sure how to act around you.”

“He doesn’t have to act any different! I’m not—” She groaned and slumped over the table. “You’re right, Okāsan. I’m just annoyed he didn’t tell me sooner.”

“That’s fair. But for what it’s worth, I’m sure he didn’t mean to upset you. I think he’s very fond of you.”

“She knew. Of course she did. Okāsan knows everything.”

“Arigato, Okāsan.” Ren threw her mother a little smile and headed upstairs.

She could hear her parents’ muffled voices talking quietly as she and her pokemon spilled into her room and prepared to sleep. Ren changed into her pajamas while Akahana turned circles on the mini futon in the corner, and Iki climbed the dresser to her cushion. Panahi fluttered up to a padded basket hanging from one of the beams, and Tāraki hopped up on the bed. Ren leaned back against the edge of it, not quite sitting.

“So, I’ve been thinking, maybe it’s time for us to travel too.”

“We going after your boyfriend?” Panahi cawed wryly from the rafters.

“Okay, Ahi doesn’t count because she would have said that no matter what.”

That may actually be true.  

“And here I was getting all hyped because I could understand you already.”

“I’m sorry, Honey. I was just getting used to my new nest. But if that’s how it has to be, then that’s fine, I suppose.”

“Aw, you old fuss-pot. We can bring your bed with us. I’ll get a vapor box. But anyway, the actual reason is we can only get so strong if we stay. We’ve had, what? Two—three trainer battles that weren’t with Kai? With him leaving, we can’t have regular matches.”

“What about your father’s gym?”

“I thought we could do the Rustboro Gym first. That’s where Kai is going for his first badge, and I don’t want to miss it.”

“I didn’t mean for the badge—” Panahi started but Ren was already trudging onward.

“I think we’re good enough to support ourselves, and I’d like a little income of my own. Besides, there’s a whole region out there. That is, if you’re all okay with it?”

They were all quiet for a moment, and Panahi regarded her carefully with one golden eye.

“Didn’t think a trainer would ask,” said Akahana.

“It’s nice of you!” Iki jumped in. “If you think we’re ready, then we are.”

“Let’s do it!” crowed Tāraki, hopping around the mattress. “Back on my island, there was nowhere to go and now there’s a whole continent to see! It’ll be so awesome!”

“I already said I’m down for whatever,” Panahi offered.

“What do you think, Aka?”

“You’re right. We won’t get much stronger here.”

“Thanks, gals.”

“So when are we leaving?” asked Tāraki.

“It won’t take long to get everything together and do a bit of research, but we’re not going anywhere for at least a week. I don’t want to spring this on Okāsan. I’ll tell them tomorrow, and we’ll see how it goes.”

Everyone took that in stride, even Tāraki, and Ren left to brush her teeth before climbing into bed. Tāraki curled up next to her, and she finally drifted off to the sounds of her team’s snoring.

[writing-yj]

Nightwing x Reader: Mockingbird’s Betrayal (Part Two)

Summary: Black Canary and Green Arrow returned to the Cave emotionally and physically wounded after confronting Mockingbird, and losing. All Mockingbird could think about was revenge. After they were betrayed, the team lived in hidden fear. But Nightwing found her. He soothed Mockingbird’s corrupted mind, gave her a chance to escape the darkness consuming her, but she decided to disappear. Chaos had calmed, fear of Mockingbird’s wrath dissolved, everything was (almost) back to normal… Until Dinah brings a new addition to the team, and with it comes an unwelcome change.

And Mockingbird never stays away for long.

Word Count: 3881…

Warnings: Mockingbird is a warning all on her own to be honest, angsty

A/n: I was going to write this later, but I’ve been teasing you guys enough with spoilers/hints/a mood board, and it’s in high demand. Without further ado, here is the second installment of Mockingbird’s Betrayal!

Part One

“No…” Nightwing whispered and he took a step back. “She couldn’t…” Just like you knew it would, his heart shattered to bits. He expected you to simply leave the team, maybe with some bitter words, but this?

The whole mountain was completely silent and no one dared to breathe a word. Tension was rising, and some fear lay beneath it. Green Arrow and Black Canary were swiftly taken to the med bay for treatment, and even after the three older teammates returned to the Mission Room, nothing  was said. 

It took Nightwing a few moments more to process it, and then to realize. He didn’t know how bad your treatment was and how much it hurt you. At first, he was numb. The thought rolled around in his head, and then fury

Nightwing’s reaction was unexpected, but he had every right to be enraged. He whirled around to face his team, and his expression was frightening. “Was it really that impossible for you guys to show some respect and take responsibility for your mistakes?” His voice was frighteningly calm and level. “Is this what you wanted? To drive out a teammate, a founder of this team, one of our most important members, a close friend to some of us?”

“We didn’t think this was going to-”

“It doesn’t matter what you thought!” Conner growled. He knew very little of their disrespectful behavior, but he was definitely not part of it. “Mockingbird didn’t deserve that! Now she’s gone and you’ve put all of us in danger!” It had been a long time since Conner was this angry. You wouldn’t be surprised if some of his anger would eventually be directed at you.

“I don’t even want to hear an explanation. There is no valid explanation for you to give, anyway.” Nightwing said coldly.

His exterior was rock hard, but he was just so broken and wrecked inside. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. At least, not in front of everyone. Nightwing fell in love with you, and now you were gone and against him. You were one hell of a force to be reckoned with, and if it came down to it, he wouldn’t be able to hurt you. He wouldn’t fight back. Hell, he’d let you beat him bloody instead of hurting you.

But I wasn’t his choice to make. If it was an order, he would have to.

Telling Wally was hard. The moment the words left Dick’s mouth, Wally yelled and said he was lying. Mockingbird wouldn’t do that; (Y/n) (L/n) wouldn’t ever do that, right? He had known you for years. You put your life and blood and dedication into that team from the very beginning. When it finally sunk in, Wally didn’t know who to be the most angry at. You, or the team.

Contacting Kaldur and Artemis was a problem all on its own, but giving the actual news to them was even worse. Artemis was completely destroyed. Her best friend turned her back on the team she once loved so much, the team she grew up with as Mockingbird. There was no real Mockingbird left, anymore. Just an empty shell filled with a burning hatred that lacked your heart and soul.

It left Kaldur numb. What had pushed you so far to betray your friends? Your family? It was hard to make Kaldur angry, but the whole tragedy made him furious. It was hard to contain it, seeing as how he and Artemis were undercover on Black Manta’s ship. Their undercover mission was something you didn’t know about. But if you were to ever find out…

The first interference you made was difficult. Conner was only there to make sure Arsenal wouldn’t take it too far in case they encountered you. Otherwise, Conner wasn’t part of the original plan that you analyzed.

You hesitated. After the younger four (Arsenal, Blue Beetle, Impulse, and Wonder Girl) were downed, you hesitated to hurt Conner. He never hurt you like the others did.

You pulled your fist back to punch Conner, a small chunk of Kryptonite hidden in your palm, but you stopped the second you saw his blue eyes. You were there when he came out of his pod in Cadmus; granted, he tried to kill you at first, but the respect you formed eventually morphed into a friendship.

“Mockingbird, please!” Conner pleaded. “This isn’t you! You aren’t thinking straight!”

Your heart thudded in your chest. “This is me, Conner! I’m not coming back!” You tried to swing at him, but a small part of you stopped the action. Were you truly willing to assault your friend with Kryptonite?

‘He’s not your friend anymore!’

Your startling red eyes, wherever those came from, snapped over to Arsenal when he yelled, “Traitor!” He directed his weaponized arm in your direction, and any sort of connection with Conner you felt snapped.

The last thing Conner saw was the green glow of Kryptonite in your fist before it collided with his face.

You were in your hideout, which you turned into your own cave with all of the advanced tech you still had, built, and secretly retrieved from your old room in Mount Justice. You wished you could have stuck around to see their horrified faces when they came to clean or your room.

The new cave you called your own was in the basement of your childhood home. The house itself was in very poor condition. The roof leaked, there was mold everywhere, some rats scampered here and there, and the whole thing was ready to collapse at any given time. It hadn’t been inhabited for twelve years, until now.

About two years ago, in order to work on concealing more of your identity, you erased the address and location of your very old house. It wasn’t an extravagant house in the slightest; no one would usually want it by looking at it from the outside, and it blended in quite well with the other few abandoned homes around it. Not even Dinah remembered where your original home was located.

You silently thanked past you as you finished stringing a chunk of Kryptonite onto a necklace. Easier to keep it there than to have to dig through your pocket for when you need it.

Fortunately, you felt safe enough to rest; you needed it. Just because you became a villain, and got more powerful, didn’t mean you had no need to sleep. If anything, sleep was crucial at this point in time.

You put your feet up on the desk/console and leaned back in your chair, taking a deep breath and exhale. Your eyes slowly closed and you tried to relax… But you couldn’t. Before you could fall asleep, a nightmare attacked you. Something, no, someone attacked you. You let your mental walls down when you calmed, and that was a mistake.

You sat there for a few fleeting moments, and then you snarled. You felt her; you knew who it was. And it made you furious.

“Get out of my head, M’orzz!” Your shout was heard out loud and in your head, and you shoved her out.

M’gann felt like something snapped in her head, and it was horrendously painful on her end. She clutched her head and let out a pained scream, and she fell to her knees. Back when you were on the team, if you didn’t want her in your head, you’d either ask her to stop or you’d gently push her out. But this time, it was violent and uncaring.

Conner immediately knelt down to help her, easily irritating La’gaan, but he didn’t care. “What did you see? Do you know where she is?”

Tears were gathering in M’gann’s eyes, but she still had the strength to speak. “I saw that she was in a basement with computers, but not where it was. I saw her nightmares, they were awful, and I felt how angry she was. She’s hurt and enraged… because of us.”

M’gann felt like she was also to blame for your betrayal, but in reality, she hadn’t done anything to hurt you in the slightest. But they all had some idea, no matter how small it was, about what was going on behind the scenes.

“And I get that, but did she really have go so far as betraying us!? Beating Black Canary and Green Arrow until they’re bleeding!?” La’gaan shouted.

An angry growl rumbled in Conner’s chest. “Nightwing told me all about how you and the others acted towards her, disrespected her, and ignored her orders. She regularly took the heat for everyone’s mistakes, when you were the ones who should have taken responsibilities for your actions.” Conner gently helped M’gann back to her feet. “So until one of you gives a valid and acceptable reason for your behavior, think very hard before you put all of the blame on Mockingbird.”

The young Kryptonian knew he should be angry with you. He should be hating you and wanting to hunt you down. But it wasn’t your fault. The actions against you triggered your anger, and it led to something more because of it. They made you feel unwanted, useless, and unappreciated. You were a hero you greatly deserved respect, but you got the exact opposite instead. That was what made Conner angry.

Meanwhile, Dick sat on his bed in his apartment with his face in his hands. Hunched over and with his elbows on his knees to support himself, he was desperately trying to choke down tears. He missed you. He loved you, but now you were gone and against him.

“I should have tried harder.” Dick mumbled. “I should have gotten them to stop. This is my fault.”

He’d been so absorbed in his guilt that he didn’t notice the open window, nor did he see the woman sitting on the edge of it. You figured you would pay him a visit; you were ticked that he had M’gann get into your head, and you would fight him if you were provoked, but a part of you missed him.

“No, it isn’t.” Your smooth voice shocked him and he all but flew off the bed, snatching his escrima sticks from his nightstand.

The urge to cry didn’t disappear as Dick looked at you sitting there. His heart cracked again when he saw your red eyes, but it didn’t make him care for you any less.

“What are you doing here, Mockingbird?” Dick’s voice was weak and his grip on his escrima sticks was loose. He didn’t want to lay a harmful finger on you.

“M’gann got into my head for a bit today. Not too happy about it, honestly.” You toyed with the knife in your hand, flipping it between your fingers without a single cut. “I came to chat about it, if that’s alright with you.” The grin on your face would have scared most others, but Dick wasn’t affected at all.

His blue eyes stared into your own and your heart stuttered. “I didn’t know that happened. I didn’t instruct anyone to do that.” Dick sounded like a broken man. But judging from how distraught and wrecked he was, he might as well be one. “I’m sorry.”

“Now you’re sounding like me; apologizing for something you didn’t do.” You jumped through the window and stalked over to him. You still had the throwing knife in your hand, but you didn’t see any fear in his eyes. You weren’t surprised. “I should be furious for you not trying hard enough, but they wouldn’t have stopped anyway. Not without severe consequences.”

Dick tossed the escrima sticks back onto his nightstand and you noticed the dark rings under his eyes. Did your turn really affect him that much? An inkling of guilt touched your heart and you winced.

“It’s not the same without you. I’m not the same without you.” Dick sat back on his bed and he stared at the floor. “I’m supposed to detain you, but I can’t bring myself to fight you, (Y/n).”

The use of your name somehow calmed you a bit, but you were confused. “And why is that? You’ve never hesitated in sparring before; that was always fun.”

“This isn’t sparring, (Y/n)!” Dick exclaimed loudly and you raised an eyebrow. “It’s because I love you, damn it! I can’t bring myself to fight against you, instead of with you.”

His confession was so powerful and meaningful and full of truth, it almost knocked the wind out of you. You took a small step back and Dick swore he saw your red irises dull a smidge. “What…?” You whispered, not trusting your voice.

Your mind was screaming at you to stop being weak and beat him to a pulp, but your heart took over for the first time.

“I love you, (Y/n). I didn’t tell when I should have and now you-”

You moved faster than he thought you could. You sat down next to him and kissed him, something you’ve wanted to do for years. Dick’s lips were soft against yours, and you giggled when he jumped in surprise. It felt like he drained all of the anger out of you; he was your life preserver.

Not long after, he wrapped an arm around you and put the other hand on your cheek. Dick was torn, He was kissing the woman he loved, but also the woman he was supposed to take in. This could be considered treason. His head said no, but his heart said ‘fuck it’. Dick let out a soft, heavenly sigh as the love you both had for each other surged through his veins. 

Before it could go further, you slowly pulled away and put your forehead against his. Neither of you were going to smile. Tears were welling in his blue eyes and your own. The red shade had almost disappeared, but you knew it wouldn’t last long.

“Come back to me…” Dick’s voice was cracked and shattered, pleading for you to be, well… you again. “Please.”

“I wish I could… But I can’t.” You said solemnly. You then whimpered, and it took only seconds for Dick to discover why; your eyes let him see the battle you waged against your mind. “No matter what I do, they wouldn’t accept me. They wouldn’t let me join the team again, not after what I’ve done,” You pulled away completely and you got back to your feet, and Dick stood just as fast. “And do you really think anything would change? With how they act towards me? I’m dangerous! I’m barely in control anymore.”

Your words proved to be true as the red in your eyes flickered occasionally. “You don’t have to join the team. You can stay here, with me. We can patrol Bludhaven like I do every night.”

“I’ll come back when everything is okay again, alright?” You jumped toward the window you came in, and Dick’s cry broke your heart.

“Don’t leave again, please.” The tears he held back fell down his cheeks. “I can’t watch you leave again-!” He stood in front of you as a sob threatened to escape him. Dick put his hands on your cheeks in a desperate attempt to get you to stay, to change your mind.

You put your hands over his bigger ones as the red ever so slowly took over the (e/c). You refused to give into the bad before you left, so you did the first thing that came to mind. “What I’m about to do next is because I love you, okay?” You blinked away a final tear.

Dick slowly nodded, having no clue what your next move was.

You took a deep breath, and before Dick could move a muscle, you threw a mean uppercut to his jaw. He was out before he could blink, and you cringed when his heavy body fell to the floor with a loud thud.

Nightwing felt how hard your punches were for at least a week after you were last seen. No one spotted Mockingbird anywhere. You flew off the grid. You took your cave with you, wherever you ended up going, and no one, absolutely no one, could find you. Every scan for your life signature, all over the world, came back negative. 

Were you dead? Many people thought yes, but then again, many people thought no. Did you give up the life of Mockingbird? Not a chance. Were you ever coming back? No one knew. 

But Mockingbird never stays away for long.

“It’s been only four months, Dinah!” Oliver hissed quietly so no one else could hear. Well, Conner could, and he ignored it to the best of his ability, but he agreed with him. “We don’t even know if (Y/n) is dead! Do you really want to take that chance!? The moment she finds out that you replaced her and named Avia ‘Mockingbird’, who knows what she’ll-”

“(Y/n) has clearly lost interest in us, or is dead. There shouldn’t be anything to worry about.” Dinah said coldly as she watched Avia interact with the team. “Face it. (Y/n) is never coming back. Someone has to take her place.”

As another teenager, they accepted her quite well. It’s the Mockingbird part that put them a little on edge. Hell, they straight up didn’t like it. The older members thought it was a horrible idea; the chances that you were dead or gone for good were very, very slim.

And why call Avia ‘Mockingbird’ when she has no powers, let alone mocking abilities. It didn’t make sense to them, but it was Dinah’s decision and the team wasn’t allowed to give any input. Dinah changed you and you changed her.

Avia Marshall was a short thirteen-year-old girl Black Canary found on the streets. Avia wasn’t all skin and bones and not weak either, and she showed great promise with her skills and morals. She knew of the previous Mockingbird, and that you betrayed the team, but she wasn’t told the truth as to why. Dinah and the others simply said that you went rogue because you were power-hungry and that your anger was uncontrollable. It was a blatant lie, but Avia didn’t know that… yet.

Avia asked Nightwing about you. She wanted to know more about her predecessor, but he refused to talk about you. She connected the dots and concluded that he was in love with you before you double-crossed them. Nightwing wasn’t in on the lie, either. Ever since you kissed him and knocked him out, he barely breathed a word about you to anyone. Not even Wally.

The second Mockingbird looked down at the symbol on her chest and wondered about you. Avia knew that she wouldn’t be able to and just the urge to do so would be bad, but she wanted to meet you. Despite knowing that you were extremely dangerous and most likely still alive somewhere, she wanted to know who (Y/n) (L/n) truly was.

Avia was a curious teenage girl, and to pass the time, she explored almost every room she could access in Mount Justice. Like you, she was also rather skilled in breaking into things, and somewhat good at breaking out, but not nearly as good as you.

She quietly shuffled through the library, looking over everything she could possibly see. Avia liked libraries; they’re peaceful, quiet, and books were everywhere. There was a small desk and chair in the very back corner of the library, and it was pretty much personalized, like an office cubicle.

A thick layer of dust coated the entire thing, so she blew away all the dust with a few strong puffs. The dust made her sneeze, but she continued to search through the various items that were neatly placed.

In a drawer, there was a tablet Avia had never seen before; obviously built by hand, but it was so much more advanced than modern-day devices. The other drawer had a decent-sized stack of file folders, all of them labeled ‘Case Closed’ and ‘The Doctor’. She made a mental note to read them later.

The lamp off to the side still worked, and at this point, it seemed like the desk hadn’t been used in a couple years. In the top middle of the desk stood a small picture frame. Avia perked up and quickly snatched the picture frame from its spot, blowing away more dust in the process.

It was a small collage of pictures taken over the years. One was a picture of you and the team when it first started, and the other pictures were taken as time passed. It was obvious that you and Robin/Nightwing grew closer and closer. You two went from standing as far apart as possible to him having an arm around your waist paired with two giant grins. Some team members came and went, but you two were always there

The Mockingbird symbol easily helped Avia pick you out from the group of people. You looked so happy, overjoyed to be with your believed team, but things were so very different now. You didn’t look like the kind of person to betray your family for more power, not one bit. Just holding the picture in her hand had Avia suspecting that you weren’t as power-hungry as you were said to be.

~Two Months Later~

You sat in the basement of a cozy cabin hidden deep in the forests of northern Minnesota. The computers were on and running, but you were pretty much just watching TV. One monitor played the news, another played a soap opera that you muted out of spite, and another played a nature documentary on wild birds.

Multiple smaller monitors showed live footage of the expertly hidden security cameras around the perimeter, and the only activity you’d seen for weeks was a herd of deer that frequented the area.

You scoffed at the soap opera monitor and finally turned it off in disgust. “More dramatic than high school…” you grumbled.

However, your eyes landed on the news and the live recording made you slam your hand down on the metal table in rage. There stood your team, fighting Black Manta on the coast of California, but that’s not what made you angry. There was a new girl on the team…

And she was wearing your old suit.

All forms of entertainment, except for the news, disappeared as you fingers flew across the keyboard. The only sound was the rapid tapping of the keys as you effortlessly hacked into Mount Justice’s systems, something you hadn’t done for at least six months.

Sure enough, Black Canary’s new protégé, Avia Marshall, held the mantle you never gave away in the first place. You were angry, you were hurt, and you were very upset. You were getting better. You were gaining more and more control over your mind and your emotions. But now that you found out, all of your hard work went to waste.

You looked over to the big glass case that perfectly displayed your Mockingbird uniform. Your reflection showed your eyes that weren’t (e/c) anymore. They were red again.

‘It’s time to put it back on. It’s time to go back home.’

[zombizombi]

years go by, will i still be waiting

“You can adopt them,” Kent said, hands full of fluffy orange tabby and face bright with a smile.

“I know! Aren’t they sweet?” Eric took a picture of Kent staring down at the cat. It was his idea to come to Regal Cat Cafe -- he’d found the place on Google, apparently. Jeff hadn’t know there was a cat cafe in Calgary.

It was a bit irritating that he hadn’t thought of it first.

The cafe was adorable. Clean and bright, it had the sort of geometric design to it that Kent liked, and the floor was a fun turquoise color. They had little cakes shaped like cats and funny kitty drink names, like the tea called “Tortoiseshell” that Jeff was currently enjoying. Kent’s hot chocolate came with a cat print in the foam, and they’d all been delighted to hear that the place partnered with a no-kill animal shelter.

“We have to give them a donation,” Kent said, and Eric laughed.

“I’m sure they’ll love that, sweetheart,” he said.

Jeff was sure they would, too. He’d already caught people putting both of them -- all three of them, really -- on Instagram.

Once they were in with the cats, though, he forgot about how many people were probably still putting them on social media. Kent was so happy. Every time a cat did something cute, he’d look for Eric and Jeff, wanting both of them to see the adorable happening -- which meant that he was constantly pointing out different cats.

“I’m so glad we came,” Kent said, as a tabby settled into his lap. “Thanks for finding this place. I can’t believe I didn’t know about it before.”

Eric laughed. “Yes, well. I am very good at using the internet, honey,” he said.

“Yes,” said Kent, “very good with The Google.”

Eric laughed again, startling the cat in Kent’s lap.

They spent the rest of that day just wandering around Calgary, talking and poking into stores and restaurants. Eric, it turned out, was more charming and funny than Jeff had realized. He was also very attentive, and he seemed to have figured out some magical way to get Kent to talk about how he was feeling without acting like it was a personal violation. He recognized that Kent wanted to go home before Kent said anything, and his jokes always made Kent laugh.

They pulled up to the condo but Jeff didn’t cut the engine.

Kent poked at the seatbelt to unbuckle it before looking up. “Aren’t you coming in?”

“Nah, it’s late, I should go home.” Jeff smiled.

“Are you sure?” Eric leaned forward. “We could watch so many episodes of The Golden Girls!”

Laughing, Jeff reached out to ruffle Eric’s hair. “Thanks, but I really gotta go. Kevin’s waiting for me.”

“Ugh --” Eric ran a hand over the longer part of his hair, trying to settle it again. “Well, fine. But I’m making peanut butter cookies tomorrow.”

“Is that a threat?”

“A promise,” Kent said, opening the passenger side door. “So bring Kevin over when you come.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jeff waved as they exited the car. Kent laced their fingers together immediately as Eric pulled in close. The sunset stained their hair red. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” said Eric. “Drive safe.”

“Bye,” Kent said. They waited for him to back out of the driveway before heading inside.

Jeff stopped in the kitchen when he got home, pouring a glass of water and checking his sugar before heading upstairs, moving slowly. On the way he clicked off the light his mom left on for him, pausing at the top of the stairs to check that nothing was in the hall before he shut it off.

Fuck, he was tired. Shaking his head, Jeff flipped the light switch and walked straight down the hallway, headed for the last door on the right. They’d had a good day. The cats were cute and they’d had great food and Kent had finally stopped walking with that tension in his shoulders that always built up at the end of a season. And Eric had promised to make peanut butter cookies. So why did he feel so --

There was a light on in his room. As he pushed the door open he could hear a Tori Amos song playing quietly on the stereo.

Excuse me, can I be you for a while....

Dagny was laying in his bed with Kevin sprawled out next to her.

Jeff paused. “Hey, champ,” he said, after a minute. “Everything okay?”

Startling a little, Dagny sat up immediately. Jeff did not recognize the name of the band on her black t-shirt. “I, uh -- what are you doing here?” She hadn’t taken off her eyeliner.

“It’s my room,” Jeff reminded her, stepping in and nudging the door shut. “I recall you having one at the other end of the hall.”

“Well, yeah,” said Dagny, “I just thought, um. I thought you weren’t coming home tonight.”

Jeff set his water glass on the bedside table. “It’s still my room,” he said. Turning to look at the stereo, he grinned. “Are you getting soft in your old age, listening to --” he made air quotes “-- vintage tunes?”

Dagny rolled her eyes and flopped back down.

Jeff flopped down next to her. They laid quietly as the song continued, almost over.

Hey, but I don't care 'cause sometimes, I said sometimes I hear my voice I hear my voice, I hear my voice, and it's been here Silent all these years

Jeff’s eyes hurt. Fuck. He closed them, because nothing could be worse than crying over nothing in front of his baby sister.

“You have a good day?” Dagny asked, after a moment.

Jeff swallowed against the burning in his throat. “Yeah,” he said, because it was, damnit, but his voice came out wrong.

The CD switched over to the next track and Dagny sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “Me, too.”

Scrubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand, Jeff swallowed. “Yeah?” He pushed up onto one elbow. “Hey. You okay?”

“How did you know you liked boys?” she asked, after a long stretch of quiet.

Oh. “Uh,” said Jeff. “I don’t -- I don’t like boys.” That was not strictly true, but --

Dagny gave him an incredulous look. “You don’t like boys,” she repeated.

Jeff sighed. “I like lots of people,” he said.

“No, you fuck lots of people.”

Holy shit. “Dagny!”

“What?” she finally looked at him. “You do, right? Boys, too?”

“Not any more,” Jeff hissed. Jesus.

“Right,” she said. “Because you’re in love with Kent.”

“Whatever,” Jeff said.

“But you are.” Dagny looked back up at the ceiling. “Did you ever love anybody else?”

Jeff looked down at the blankets. “No,” he admitted, “but that’s not a prerequisite for --” wait. That wasn’t what he was supposed to be telling her. “Uh, not that you shouldn’t be safe, but --” god, it was getting embarrassing. His ears burned. “I just didn’t, um. It never happened before.”

“There’s a word for that, you know,” she said. “Demi--”

“I don’t care,” said Jeff, both because it had nothing to do with her original question and because he didn’t.

“‘Course you don’t,” said Dagny. She paused. “Amelia thinks she’s in love with you.”

He laughed. Right, of course. His sister’s sixteen year old best friend thought she was in love with him. “Where is this going, buddy? I’m tired.”

“She just talks about you a lot,” Dagny said, and something in her tone of voice made Jeff frown.

She talked about Amelia all the time. They did everything together. In fact -- oh. “It’s just hockey,” he said, tone gentle.

“I wish she liked me like that,” Dagny whispered, and Jeff’s heart hurt for her.

He thought about it for a minute before clearing his throat. “Maybe you should just play hockey,” he suggested.

Dagny finally laughed and punched his shoulder. “Fuck off,” she said. And then, a minute later, “don’t tell mom.”

“Oh, I’m totally telling mom,” Jeff said. “She’ll love hearing you’ve finally decided you like hockey.”

“You’re such a dick,” Dagny said. “I love you.”

Jeff laid his head back down onto his pillow. “I love you too, champ,” he said.

( missed the beginning? it’s all on AO3! )

[piping-hot-tea-4-u-nd-me]

And Life Went On

Prompt: Could you do a 5SOS one where Michael and Luke get into a fight and Luke says some really harsh things. The boys all gang up on him at that point and blame him and so he goes to his room. Then he opens his phone and sees tons of hate and he can't handle it so he self harms and the boys feel bad so they go to talk to him and find him all bleeding and Luke feels bad. could you make it really fluffy? Thanks!

Prompt: Hey! Can you do 5sos one shot, Luke has an asthma attack or a panic attack and it's all fluff and cuteness :) love you're writing lots <3

It’s not quite what you wanted but I hope it’s alright – warnings of blood and pervious self harm (maybe triggering) and I’m sorry it’s so long! 

It goes without saying that the four boys of 5 Seconds of Summer were the closest possible friends, you could even consider them brothers. But even with relationships as strong as theirs, arguments were always inevitable. 

The boys were currently in Toronto each wandering around the stadium they were to be playing at tonight when Luke got the news his older brother Jack had been in a pretty serious freak car accident. His mum called him in tears saying his was in the operating room and it wasn’t life threatening but there was a high chance Jack would now be paralysed from the waist down, if he even woke up. Luke wanted to drop everything and fly back home to be there for his brother but his mum convinced him to stay and continue with the tour, there wouldn’t be much he could do even if he was there so Luke hesitantly agreed to stay in Toronto. 

Once Luke finally got off the phone with his mum, he walked over and leant against the wall, taking a shaky breath, trying to take in everything that had just happened. There was a chance his brother wouldn’t wake up, and if he did he would probably never walk again. The same brother who taught him to ride a skateboard and showed him how to surf. The same brother who ran beside him in his first cross country in high school. The same brother who had built his life around being able to use his legs. Luke rubbed his face and took another breath, still attempting to collect his thoughts. None of this felt real.

“Luke there you are. We need you on the stage for sound check. Now” a stern voice behind him said. He turned around and saw one of their stage managers looking at him, clearly annoyed. He nodded and pushed off the wall slowly trailing to the stage.

By the time he got there the other three tired boys had taken their positions on the stage and were waiting for him, also not looking very happy with him. He grabbed his guitar off one of the stage hands and took his spot in front of his microphone. Luke could feel the eyes on the back of his head and turned to see Ashton staring at him strangely, his cold stare softening at the look on Luke’s face. 

Ashton took a step towards him “Hey Luke, is everythi- “ 

“No time for a chat guys were already behind schedule thanks to Luke’s little disappearing act. Remember we have VIP fans coming to watch sound check. They’ll be here any minute” the same manager that found Luke said.

Sound check started and the boys were off to a rough start. They were all beyond exhausted as well as the news Luke just received, they were all quite off. He was trying, he really was but Luke was so distracted and off key and could feel the energy on the stage changing for the worse. 

It was in the middle of the third song that Michael decided he’d had enough of Luke and stopped playing, signalled the other boys to stop too.

“Luke what the hell is your problem? Your behind and not even singing in the right key? We don’t have time for this?” Michael snapped. It was then the VIP fans started making their way towards the stage, excited to see the behind scenes of 5SOS but not prepared for the shock they were in. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just really tired an-“ 

“No, seriously you need to get your shit together right now man” Michael retaliated 

“Michael you don’t understand!” 

“What I understand is that you don’t seem to care about the show meaning the fans and that you’re letting us down!” it was then that the fans had pulled up their phones and started recording the boys. “Seriously what is your problem Luke? We’re all tired and doing our best except you” 

Luke had enough. He was exhausted and on the brink of crying over everything that had already happened today and snapped back at Michael.

“My problem? Really Mikey? You’re the one who can’t face the world using different hair colours to hide your insecurities. You’re the one who won’t want to sing parts on songs because you don’t want to. You’re the one who drinks just so he doesn’t have to face people sober! And you’re asking me what my problem is?” 

The room was dead quiet. Both Michael and Luke’s eyes were wide open staring at each other. The fans still had their phones focused on the boys and the stage managers weren’t sure how to step in and resolve the issue. 

Luke was immediately filled with regret after what he said and could feel his eyes watering up. He’s never someone to snap like that so when (if) he ever does snap he’s not sure how to fix it.

“Fuck Michael, I’m sor- “

“Save it” 

There was silence again till management finally stepped in telling the boys to focus back on the sound check and asking the fans to put their phones down and delete the videos they had taken but it was too late, the damage was already done. Videos were already posted on Twitter, livestreamed on both Instagram and Facebook. The whole world knew what had happened and there was no taking it back.

Once sound check had finally finished the boys immediately went their own ways and stayed away from each other till the show only hours later. They all gathered back behind stage for the main show but there was obvious tension between all the boys. Michael and Calum sending dirty looks in Luke’s direction, Ashton being the only one looking at Luke with concern. The boy had been off character all day and Michael and Calum were to wrapped up in the argument before to realise, granted some hurtful things had been said.

The main show was over, definitely one of their worst, and they had all walked off stage together. Once out of sight of the fans Calum grabbed Luke by his shirt and slammed him against the wall. 

“How dare you” 

“Calum, wait”

“No Luke, you’re an ass and you’re lucky we need you in this band otherwise you’d be out” 

That was it for Luke, he couldn’t do this. He pushed Calum off of him and took off down the halls and out of the building, hailing the first taxi he could and headed to the hotel. Sitting in the backseat Luke could feel the tears in his eyes, today had been too much and he knew he had messed up with Michael and he still hadn’t heard back from his mum about his brother. He arrived at the hotel and stumbled his way up to his room, tears blurring his vision. He made it up to his room, clumsily scanning the key and fell into the room onto his hands and knees. He hastily closed the door behind him and pushed his face into the carpet below him loudly sobbing, fingers clawing at the carpet. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably as a cried for his brother and for Michael into the soft material until he didn’t think he could physically cry anymore. He didn’t know how long he had been on the floor but his shoulders ached when he pushed himself up, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. 

He scrolled through the notifications, no messages from any of the boys but all of his social media accounts were blowing up. Luke opened twitter and that’s when he saw it. Pages after pages of fans slamming him, retweeting photos and videos of his and Michael’s argument today. Comments like “kick him out” and “he’s an awful person” and “he’s not worth it” kept coming up, repeating over and over again until they were burned into his brain. He dropped his phone onto the floor and felt his chest tightening but pushed the feeling away trying to ignore it as he walked to the bathroom. 

Luke stepped into the bathroom and gripped the sink, the cold ceramic sending sparks up his arms. He turned and made his way to the bathtub, stripping his shoes and clothes off and stepping in as he turned the hot water on. He sat down directly under the hot water and brought his knees up to his chest and started crying again. His tears mixing with the water rushing over his skin as thoughts he hasn’t had since high school crept back into his mind and he uncurled his legs, laying them out straight in the bath. The pale white scars that zigzagged and crossed over and over again on his thighs stood out like beacons. His chest tightened again but Luke tried to ignore it again but it was becoming harder. He reached over to the razor on the soap holder and looked at it longingly, wanting to do something he promised he’d never do again. The water was turning his skin bright red but the only thing he could feel was his chest aching, breathing getting harder. Luke gripped the razor tighter in one hand and used his other to pull the plastic surrounding the blades off like he had done so many times before. By the time he had the three sharp little blades in his hand he had tiny little cuts lined up on his fingers but he still couldn’t feel and thing but his chest making it almost impossible to breathe. He didn’t want to do it, he promised he wouldn’t but today has been too much and he couldn’t handle it.

After the incident backstage with Calum and Luke, Ashton had been very concerned for the younger boy. Something definitely wasn’t right with him, he was hardly ever late for sound check and since when did he ever snap? The way Luke had run out of the venue left all three of them shocked but Calum and Michael turned with a “good riddance” and made their way to their dressing rooms to grab the last of their things and the three of them slowly got back outside to the waiting van, ready to head back to the hotel. 

Michael and Calum walked together to Michael’s room but Ashton stopped out the front of Luke’s door and knocked. There was no reply so Ashton knocked again and again but there was still no answer. The oldest boy grabbed turned the door handle and it opened easily so he stepped in. There was no sign of Luke but he could hear the shower running. Ashton walked in the direction of the sound of the water and saw the open bathroom door and the sight in front of him made his heart drop. There was Luke sitting in the bath, skin an alarming dark shade of red, wild breathing with a razor in his hand.

“Luke! Fuck what are you doing?” Ashton cried running over to the bath turning off the water. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” Luke chanted weakly in between his short, shallow breaths not looking up from the razor still sitting in his hand. 

“It’s okay, please just give that to me”

Luke closed his hand over the razor and clenched his hand as he failed to breathe, refusing to let go of it.

“Luke, you’re okay. You’re safe and not in trouble. I’m here, okay?” 

The younger boy finally looked up at Ashton, his eyes wide with panic. Ashton turned and grabbed one of the hotels white towels and threw it around Luke’s shoulders. 

“You’re doing so great, but you need to breathe now. Just focus on my voice Luke” Ashton had one hand rubbing Luke’s back while the other one helping to hold him up straight to open his airways to make it easier for the already struggling boy. He guided him through breathing and sat there with him till the panic in Luke’s eyes was replaced with sheer exhaustion. Luke slowly unclenched his now bleeding hand and dropped the bloody razor to the bottom of the bathtub, a river of blood following. 

Ashton helped the boy up, re-wrapping the towel around him, and walked Luke to the bedroom. Luke sat on the edge of the bed while Ashton walked over to the suitcase and searched for some clothes for Luke to out on. While his back was to Luke, Ashton pulled out his phone and sent a text to Michael telling him and Calum to get their asses over to Luke’s room now. 

Once Luke was dressed he took his seat back on the edge of the bed looking down at his lap. Ashton disappeared and soon returned with a first aid kid and sat down on the floor in front of Luke, grabbing the smaller boys cut hand and started cleaning it both boys silent. It wasn’t long until Michael and Calum came sulking into Luke’s room.

“You better be dragging us here so Luke can apologise Ashton” Calum huffed from the front door, unaware what they were about to see. 

“Actually Calum, I think its you two who needs to apologise” Ashton replied coolly in attempts to keep Luke calm. 

“Oh yeah, as if that’s gonna happ-” Calum immediately shut his mouth when he saw Ashton bandaging Luke’s hand. “What going on?”

“That’s what Luke needs to tell us. I’m sorry Luke, you know I’d never push with something like this but you promised us if you were getting this bad again you’d talk to one of us” 

Michael, who had been extremely quiet, took the few steps closer to Luke and sat down next to Ashton in front of him. 

“What’s going on Luke?” Mike said quietly. Luke shook his head eyes tearing up again. He didn’t know how to apologise enough for what he had said to the boy in front of him. “Please Luke” 

“I’m sorry Mikey, I didn’t mean what I said” Luke sobbed throwing himself at Michael. 

“You’re okay, I’m not mad at you” Michael said, pulling away to look at Luke’s face

“Maybe not, but I still hurt you and the fans are still mad at me”

“What do you mean the fans?” Calum butted in 

“What I said today is all over Twitter, they’re never going to forgive me!” 

“They will understand and move on. But why were you so upset during sound check? And why didn’t you come to me?” Ashton asked

“My brother…” and Luke told them all about his morning, his phone call with his mum about his brother and how everything had just gotten too much. 

“Luke you should have told us, I’m so sorry” Calum said as he hugged the younger boy. 

“Me too Luke, I shouldn’t of snapped at you” Michael said too. 

The boys spent the night in Luke’s room all wrapped up together on the double bed, none of them wanting to spend the night away from Luke. Luke called his mum in the morning to ask about his brother. Jack had the surgery and woke up only a few hours ago, it was confirmed that he would be paralysed from the waist down but his mum was sure Jack would find a way to still do the things he loved most. 

Although Luke almost had a relapse last night he felt as though he was in a better place than he had been with the boys in a while and knew they would always be there for him no matter what. Management moved their schedule around giving them a few days after it became obvious the boys were exhausted and the fans, after hearing the news about Luke’s brother, were more supportive then any of them could have asked for. And life went on.

[saikostories]

GOT7 - I Can’t Lose You (Jackson)

People had often said to you that high-school would be the best years of your life; years that you would spend making close bonds and friendships while studying hard in order to achieve good grades before eventually going on to attend university. But like many things in life, this was far easier said than done. To put it simply; you quickly found out that high-school was not how they made it out to be in dramas. Teachers were rude and didn’t care if you were struggling, and the students were even worse – bullying was a big problem at the particular high-school you attended, and the teachers did little to combat it, thus resulting in the weaker kids getting abused by their tormentors on a daily basis. Fortunately, every day was a little more bearable; thanks to your best friend Jackson Wang. He transferred to your school a little over a year ago from Hong Kong to continue his studies abroad. He spoke perfect English, and had a slight American twang to his accent. You were apprehensive about him befriending you at first, as you had built up walls so high around you in an attempt to not get hurt by anyone, but you slowly let him in over months of constant pestering by him. It wasn’t long before you and Jackson had become like hand and glove; the best of friends. You relied on him, and he relied on you to make school a little less shitty than it was. However, not all was rosy in the garden, as Jackson soon found out that he was being targeted by one of the ring leaders who commanded the school’s bullying. His name was Lee Jooheon, infamous tough guy and merciless fighter who often got in trouble for various activities such as smoking with his cronies in the bathroom, playing hooky on the daily and actively trying to abuse anyone who even so much as looked at him the wrong way. Everyone feared Jooheon, even his own friends as they didn’t dare to disobey him in fear of him lashing out at them. He had even sent a kid to the hospital once for refusing to give him money on demand. Jooheon was a loose cannon, and everyone knew to stay well away. Jooheon picked his beef with Jackson a few months after Jackson arrived at you high-school. You and Jackson shared all the same classes, but you both also had Math with Jooheon. Luckily, he hardly ever showed up, but when he did, tensions were high. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t absolutely terrified of Jooheon. But you treated him as if he were a wild animal – don’t let him smell your fear. So you always tried your best to ignore him, and you had advised Jackson to do the same. This particular day, you and Jackson arrived at Math a few minutes early. You both entered the classroom and sat at your usual seats beside each other. Jackson had just dyed his hair back to black and gotten a new haircut. “So, whaddya think? Am I even more handsome now?” Jackson asked you dead seriously, admiring his reflection in your handheld mirror that he whipped out of your pencil case. “Oh yeah, totally handsome. Look at all those girls lining up outside the classroom to get a peak of you” you said, motioning to the invisible masses through the door. Jackson glared at you from the side of his eye, before breaking a smile and causing you both to giggle. Of course you thought Jackson was handsome. He was ethereal in his looks and devilishly charming and witty in his personality, but you would never feed his ego – and you would never admit that you secretly liked him either. Just as Jackson was about to fire a beautifully sarcastic remark your way, the classroom door swung open, and in walked Jooheon with his gang, making you almost jump out of your seat. Jackson immediately put his hand over yours, looking at you with softened eyes silently telling you that everything was okay. You smiled at him, nodding before taking your books out of your bag in preparation for the class. “Well well, look at this. Young love.” You heard Jooheon call from across the room. You looked in his direction out of the corner of your eye, noticing that Jackson was completely ignoring him as he scrolled through Twitter on his phone. Jooheon and his buddies started making gross comments about Jackson and you, calling you a slut for being so easy and letting him have you – which was not true in any way, shape or form. You’d never even been kissed by a boy, Jackson knew this too – which caused you both to smirk at each other as Jackson turned his head to you away from Jooheon before giving you a wink and a choking face. You laughed – a little too loudly. And that was your first mistake. “Something funny over there?” Jooheon asked, before getting up and walking right over to you both. You quickly wiped your smile off your face, looking down at your books and trying your best to ignore Jooheon. Jackson was still looking at his phone when Jooheon stopped in front of your desk. “I asked you a question you dumb bitch. Are you deaf as well as easy?” he smirked right into your face. Deciding that you couldn’t take anymore of his petty name calling, you raised your face to meet his, before locating your lady-balls and answering him. “We were just laughing about something online we saw. It’s got nothing to do with you.” You said without hesitation, making Jooheon look at you as if you had 10 heads. Usually, people trembled with fear just being in his presence, but you didn’t back down at all. “What’s your name?” he asked you, looking straight into his eyes, his stare so intense it could burn your eyes clean out of their sockets. Jackson looked between you and Jooheon, attempting to read his actions and intentions. “You don’t need to know my name.” You replied lazily, flicking through your book while yawning, which angered Jooheon to no end. He looked to Jackson, noticing that he hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time. “Her pussy must be amazing if you can stick hanging around with such a rude bitch all day, Jackson” Jooheon sneered into his face. Jackson stood up suddenly, coming level and face to face with him from across the table. “Say that again and I’ll knock every tooth out of your mouth.” Jackson growled. Jooheon chuckled darkly, looking over to his friends who were slowly closing in. You stood up, putting your hand on Jacksons arm in an attempt to calm him down. Jackson broke eye contact with Jooheon to look at you, and that was the second mistake you both had made that day. Jooheon took this opportunity to grab Jackson by his shirt collar, yanking him clean off his feet and right over the table. You screamed, running over to try and separate them but not being able to get past his friends that were now holding you back. Jooheon got on top of Jackson, laying into him relentlessly and offering him no mercy or time to even fight back. He punched his face over and over, while Jackson just lay there and took every swing. You were screaming bloody murder at the top of your lungs, causing the surrounding classroom teachers to come sprinting into the room. Several teachers surrounded the two boys, pulling Jooheon off of Jackson and separating them both. Jooheon shook them off, laughing while being dragged away by one of the male teachers. He kept his stare on you as he mouthed “You’re next” before being pulled out of the room altogether. You dropped to your knees beside Jackson who was laying in a pool of his own blood dripping from his nose. You cupped your hands around his face, tears falling from your eyes. “Jackson! Are you okay? Can you hear me?” you shouted at him, to which he slowly nodded his head and put his hand over yours. “I’m fine (Y/N). I’m fine now” he replied, a faint smile on his lips as you breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t as badly hurt as you thought he was. Just a bloody nose and bruising to his face and lips, but you were upset and concerned none the less. The other teachers that came rushing to the room were now pulling Jackson to his feet, asking him if he was okay, to which Jackson shrugged their concerns off, telling them that he was fine. “Mr. Wang, please come to the nurses office with me so we can examine your injuries. (Y/N), if you would like to accompany him, you can do so.” Your teacher said, to which you gladly went with him. The nurse gave Jackson a once over, saying he was lucky to escape with minor cuts and bruises. Nurse Choi was all too familiar with the beatings of Jooheon, as she was always the one that had to clean up the mess after and ring concerned parents to tell them about their children being beaten to a pulp. She excused herself to go and file a report, leaving you and Jackson alone in the room. You sat down on the medical bed beside Jackson, looking at him with a mixture of concern and frustration. “Why did you do that? Why did you stand up to him? And why, for god sake, why didn’t you fight back? He could have killed you Jackson.” You whimpered, tears forming in your eyes at the thought of what could have happened. Jackson chuckled, putting his finger up to your cheek to wipe your tear away. “I shouldn’t have started it, but what he said about you really pissed me off. I felt so much anger in that second. And (Y/N), you know that I used to do Marital Arts right? Part of my training is to learn how to be hit before actually hitting someone. He couldn’t have killed me, no one can kill Jackson Wang” he said sternly while pulling his usual stupid faces which made you giggle – even now. You both chuckled, before you lay your head on his chest, making Jackson widen his eyes at the sudden contact. He rested his hand on your head, stroking your hair – when suddenly, Nurse Choi came back in, causing you to jump up out of his grip. Nurse Choi smiled knowingly at you both, before turning to Jackson. “Okay Jackson, your parents are on their way to pick you up. They have insisted on taking you to the hospital so you can get some scans done – which I don’t think is a bad idea at all. Miss (Y/N), you are free to go back to class now.” She smiled at you, handing you your bag. “I’ll call you later when I get home – don’t worry about me. Remember what I said?” Jackson called to you as Nurse Choi ushered you out the door. You smiled and nodded at him, before walking back to class. The rest of the day went by without much commotion. Lots of nosey students asking you questions about what happened, to which you ignored most of them. You weren’t about to go into detail about anything in fear of a rumour being started. The last bell of the day rang and you had never been so happy to hear it in your life. You exited the classroom and began walking down the stairs towards the exit. Just as you were about to turn the corner of the last hallway, you felt a pair of hands grab you from behind. You screamed, but it was no use, and the mystery pair of hands quickly placed themselves around your mouth, before pulling you into an empty supply closet. You kicked and wriggled for your life, but soon you found that there was more than one entity in the room with you. The next thing you knew, you were being rammed up against the wall, and Jooheon was standing in front of you, sweating and breathing heavily in complete rage. “Looks like your boyfriend isn’t around to save you now…we can have some fun, can’t we princess?” he growled, the stench of his breath making you want to be sick as his face inched closer to yours. He held you against the wall, pressing his entire weight on top of you, and you felt that any second, he would crush every bone in your body. “Please…stop…don’t do this Jooheon…please…” you began to bed and cry in the hopes he would take pity on you. There was no way in hell you could fight him, and even if you could, it was 4 against one. To put it plainly; you were up shit creak without a paddle. “Not so tough now, are ya?” Jooheon and the rest of his gang chuckled as tears came flooding down your cheeks and dripping from your chin. “Let me teach you a lesson you won’t forget”. Jooheon stepped back slightly, giving you room to breathe as you gasped for air. And right when you did, he punched you full smack in your stomach, completely winding you as you fell to the ground, unable to breathe. He kicked you in your side, causing you to let out silent cries as all the air in your lungs became trapped. You closed your eyes tight, wishing he would either just leave you alone or kill you. “We’ll continue this at a later date, cutie. See ya” he said, before motioning his friends out of the closet. You lay there for what felt like hours, feeling your stomach and ribs starting to bruise. The air had since returned to your lungs, but you felt like they were on fire. You knew you had to get up and walk home, but explaining your ragged breathing and limping to people was something you knew you couldn’t do. Number one rule about being bullied in your school; if you snitch, you get it 10 worse, as the teachers never did anything about it. You pulled yourself to your feet, pulling your cardigan over your body and wiping your face with your sleeves, before exiting the closet and trying your best to avoid anyone – to which you succeeded. Just as Jackson had promised, he rang you that night but you didn’t answer any of his calls. You didn’t want to tell him what happened, because you knew it would just make things harder. You turned your phone off, telling your Mother that you felt too tired for dinner before shutting yourself in your room for the night. For the next few days, you stayed off school, telling your parents that you had a stomach bug and didn’t feel up to it, which they believed you. Jackson had rang and text you many times, to which you began to feel guilty for ignoring him. You finally replied; TO: King Jacks Sorry for going M.I.A on you and leaving you to battle school by yourself. Just been feeling under the weather. Don’t know when I’ll be back. Stay out of trouble, okay? <3 Around 8pm that night, you heard your doorbell ring, to which you didn’t pay any attention to. You were in the middle of rubbing cream over the severe amount of bruising Jooheon had left on your stomach and ribs, sitting in your room in nothing but your pyjama shorts and bra, when you heard footsteps bouncing up the stairs. “Shite” you thought as you fumbled to put your shirt back on, fearing your mother walking in and seeing the state of your body. But it wasn’t your mother who burst in through your door; it was Jackson. Jackson stared at you, his eyes falling to your badly bruised body as you sat there lie a doe caught in headlights. You felt your heartbeat starting to increase as you then realised that you were half naked. You fumbled again for you shirt. “Jackson, I’m in my bra can you please just-” Jackson cut you off, running over to you and dropping to his knees as his hands went straight for your stomach. His touch was hot and gentle ad he traced the blue and purple galaxies of bruises over your skin, tears forming in his eyes as he cottoned on. He looked up at you, opening his mouth and trying to find words to say. “When did he do this?” he asked bluntly. “It doesn’t matter Jackson, just leave it be. I’m fine, okay?” you said, putting your hand on his cheek, which he quickly swatted away. “Don’t lie to me (Y/N). Is this why you’ve been avoiding me and skipping school?” he whispered, holding you as if you were a piece of fragile glass, ready to shatter at any moment. You raised your hand and gently began pulling it through his soft hair, before patting away his tears with your thumb as you too began to cry. “I’m sorry…I didn’t want you to think this was your fault, because it’s NOT.” You said strongly, looking into his eyes which were back on your body, imagining the severe amount of pain that Jooheon had put you through. He imagined you, lonely and crying, Jooheon laying his filthy hands on you as you begged him to stop. Jackson tightened his jaw as he tensed his whole body up, anger coursing through his veins with every beat of his heart. “I’m going to fucking kill him (Y/N). I’ll break every fucking bone in his body. How fucking dare he do this to you.” He said, as he pulled you in close to him gently, being careful not to hurt you even more. You took in his familiar scent, not even caring that you were still half naked against his chest. Jackson always made you feel protected, but this was something else entirely. You felt like he was a lion, protecting his lioness from immediate danger. You looked up to his face, studying his sullen expression, before he placed his lips on your forehead, littering it with chaste kisses and he rocked you back and forth. You felt your heart swell in your chest at his touch, his strong arms wrapped around you like castle walls. “He’s gonna pay for this. I promise you. I won’t ever let you get hurt again…I…I love you (Y/N). I can’t lose you.”

***

That night, you told your Mother that Jackson came over to help you catch up on a tonne of school and homework that you missed from having a few days off – which thankfully she believed. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for him to come and spend the night with you, staying in your room and sleeping on the small fold-away camping bed you kept in your wardrobe just for him. But tonight, Jackson stayed in bed beside you after he had helped you apply more cream to your badly bruised body. He lay on his back, pulling you over him so that your head was lying on his chest, his arms protectively wrapped around you as he cradled you like a child. You had never seen this side of Jackson before, but then again you never really had any reason to see it – nor did he have much reason to show it. Jackson always did well with keeping his hidden feelings just that; hidden. He didn’t know how you’d react if he confessed to you, but upon seeing you earlier – it had just slipped out. You lay on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as you felt your head rise and fall in time with his chest while his hand ghosted light circles over your shoulder blades. You thought back to what he said to you a few hours ago. “I won’t ever let you get hurt again…I…I love you (Y/N). I can’t lose you.” His words echoed through your mind, both dazzling and dizzying you as you repeated them over and over. Did he mean ‘love’ as in plutonic love? Or ‘love’ as in, love love? Was it appropriate to ask him? How would you ask him? Is it something you could just bring up out of the blue? “How badly does it hurt?” Jackson interrupted your train of thoughts. “It’s not as bad as it was, I’m alright now. It looks worse than it actually is” you sniffled into his tshirt. “Jackson, I want to just forget about what happened with Jooheon. You know how all of this goes…I don’t want to report him or attract any more attention to myself. Okay?” you said softly but seriously as you heard Jackson let out a harsh sigh. “If you think that I’m gonna sit back and watch that fucker walk around school…knowing that he laid his hands on you…I can’t do it (Y/N). I wasn’t there to protect you, but I’m here now. And no one will ever touch you again.” He whispered, swallowing hard to hold back his tears as he went over in his head what you told him had happened. “Please Jackson. I don’t want either of us to get hurt again because of him. Please, I’m begging you. Please?” you whimpered, looking up into his face with your eyes threatening tears. Jackson couldn’t argue with you when you looked like this. He wanted to kill Jooheon for what he had done to you, but he knew that you were right. Doing anything to Jooheon right now wouldn’t only be putting himself in danger, but it would in effect endanger you. “Fine. I won’t pursue him. But if he comes after you, I won’t hesitate to give him a taste of his own medicine. You mean too much to me. Seeing you like this kills me.” His voice turned to that of a whisper as he ran his hands gently over the bruised parts of your body. You hummed into his chest, nuzzling into him more and feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You felt the happiest that you had been in a long time – Jackson shared these feelings, even though he didn’t like how they came about. Your alarm went off the next morning as it usually did in time for school. You woke up, still cradled in Jacksons arms as he opened his eyes to see you on his chest. His heart did somersaults at the sight of you, still hazy from sleep as he stroked your hair softly, watching you smile at his gentle touch. “We better start getting ready…” you sighed, lifting yourself from the warmth of Jackson and stepping across your room to rummage for your school uniform. Jackson rolled on to his side and began watching you while resting his face against the pillow. You felt his eyes on you, making you turn around and give him a stern look. “It’s rude to watch a girl get dressed” you said playfully. You slept beside him in just your panties and night shirt, so putting on your tights and skirt in front of him wasn’t a problem. “It’s rude, but this girl I’m watching is so beautiful that I can’t take my eyes off her” Jackson retorted, smiling devilishly at you and making you chuckle. His response further informed you that yes, he did actually mean what he said to you last night – making your heart beat faster and slower at the same time as you realised that you were madly in love with your best friend, and it just so happens that he felt the same. Much to Jacksons disappointment, you managed to get dressed without having to remove your bra, as he made noises of displeasure while you laughed at his demise. You both ate breakfast together with your Mum, before heading off to school. Before you did, your Mum handed Jackson a small Tupperware box. “This is just something I baked this morning. You’re always so good to our family, and we really appreciate you so much. You’re always welcome in our home Jackson” she smiled at him. Jackson hugged her tightly, telling her that she has no need to give him any rewards for caring about you, before thanking her and wishing her well. After leaving the house, Jackson opened the box to see the vanilla cookies that your Mum had made, and you both ate them on the way to school as if Jooheon was a distant memory. That would be how you would have wanted the story to end, but sadly – it didn’t. You both arrived at school, walking together up to the 3rd floor to begin your first lesson of the day which was Art. The hours ticked by, class after class until finally it was lunch time. “I’ll go find a nice spot on the grass. Do you wanna get the food from the hot counter?” you said to Jackson upon leaving French. “Sure! I think they’re serving BBQ ribs today. Do you want spicy ones or plain ones?” Jackson called after you as you walked towards the hallway door. “Surprise me!” you shouted back, before descending down the stairs and heading outside in the direction of the grass along the school’s football pitch. Upon arriving, you took your coat off and sat it on the grass before sitting down and laying back on your hands, feeling the dull pain in your side – but forgetting about it once feeling the sunshine hitting your legs and warming your entire body. You closed your eyes for a while, listening to the passing conversation of other students, the excited shouting and screaming of those who were playing football during their lunch hour; when you felt a presence in front of you, blocking the sun from your body. Thinking it was just Jackson, you continued laying there with your eyes shut. “Oi, you’re blocking my precious sunlight.” You protested at him, smiling to yourself while imagining his face – but your smile quickly faded as you felt a hand grip the back of your hair causing you to let out a yelp as you were yanked to your feet. You opened your eyes to see the person who you really didn’t want to see today at all. It was Jooheon. “Haven’t seen you in a while (Y/N), were you sick? Did you catch a cold? What was wrong?” he sneered into your face as he edged closer. You tried to wriggle free and run away, but whoever was behind you had a firm grip on your hair, causing you great pain anytime you tried to move. Jooheon put his hands on your ribs where he had previously beat you to a pulp, before digging his thumbs into the bruised skin, causing you to scream in pain – your screams going unheard as another person from behind you, most likely the people who watched Jooheon beat you in the closet, put their hand over your mouth, muffling your cries. “You’re going to be a good little girl and not tell anyone about our date in the closet, aren’t you? Because you know what will happen if you do, right?” he whispered into your ear, putting more pressure on to your bruises. You couldn’t stop your tears from streaming down your face at the pain, his words and the fact that this was all out in the open and not one single person was doing anything about it. You wished with all your heart that Jackson was here, but what could he do anyway? It would be 3 vs 1 – was that even possible to overcome? It was then, right in front of you that you seen a fist collide with Jooheon’s face, sending him flying to your left and landing in a heap on the ground. The grip on your hair and around your mouth loosened as the two people from behind you ran to Jooheon’s aid, while you felt an arm wrap itself around your body and pull you behind them. You looked up and seen Jackson, gripping the sides of your arms and looking into your face, his eyes full of rage and terror. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he said hastily, to which you shook your head. You were absolutely terrified now, not knowing how you were both going to get out of this. “Whatever happens, I want you to stay behind me. You understand? Don’t get yourself involved. Stay well back.” Jackson ghosted the tips of his fingers over your chin, before turning around and standing in front of you, as if to shield you from Jooheon. Jooheon managed to stand up with the help of his two friends, rubbing his jaw where Jackson had decked him full force. He glared at Jackson, chest rising and falling, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes here and there while shifting his weight from foot to foot. “You finally able to grow some balls now Jackson? I didn’t think you had it in you, but you’re gonna regret that.” He threatened darkly, as he stepped forward with his 2 friends, coming closer to Jackson. “The only person that’s going to regret anything is you. Walk away while you still can.” Jackson said calmly, repositioning his feet to a steadier stance as the 3 boys closed in. “You know, you’re pretty cocky for a guy who’s outnumbered…and I don’t think your girlfriend could be much help to you. She was so pathetic when I shoved her up against the wall and had her begging for me to let her go” he laughed sadistically. You could almost feel Jacksons rage radiating from his body at Jooheon’s words, while Jackson began breathing deeply in an attempt to shake him off. He knew that Jooheon was trying to get a rise out of him – but what Jooheon didn’t know was Jackson had done martial arts for the past 10 years, and he knew how to control his anger when it mattered most. “Any last words?” Jooheon muttered through his teeth, cocking his head to the side as he stopped a few feet before Jackson, his 2 friends closing in further. Jackson could hear his heartbeat loud and clear, before he cleared his mind of everything, except you. Knowing that he had to protect you was his main focus. “Bring it on” Jackson replied. Jooheon’s 2 friends didn’t hesitate as they lunged for Jackson, but Jackson was already one step ahead as he pushed you backwards and side stepped the both of them, not turning his back on Jooheon. He side stepped, before slipping back in and swiftly jabbing the side of his hand on to one of the boys pressure points on his neck, making him drop to the ground – cold. The remaining boy let out a growl, coming for Jackson once again with a sloppy punch, to which Jackson easily dodged and sent an uppercut flying into the boys chin. He moaned, falling on to the grass in agony beside his friend. Jackson stepped over them both, looking back out of the corner of his eye at you. You were completely stunned at how quick and easy Jackson made the whole thing look as it quite literally happened in only a few seconds. You had only ever seen things like this in movies, so to see it happen right before your eyes was both shocking and amazing. After seeing that you were okay, Jackson turned to face Jooheon once again. “All this over a girl Jackson…you know, if you had of played your cards right, you could be with us. The kings of this fucking school, instead you’re whipped like a dog” Jooheon chuckled as he shook his head, his voice dropping on the last word. “You could give me any card in the world, and I’d choose her every time.” Jackson replied, both of them circling and sizing each other up. “Awh man, don’t tell me this is all for love? You’re pathetic. How’s life on the end of that leash she has you on?” Jooheon squinted his eyes as he clenched his jaw, the pain a reminder of Jacksons fist colliding with it just moments ago. “Are you gonna stand there and run your mouth all day or are you gonna man up and come for me?” Jackson edged him on, knowing that he was severely getting to Jooheon by the redness in his cheeks. With that, Jooheon sprung forward, screaming and throwing empty punches into the air. Had this not been a serious fight, Jackson would have died from laughing at just how unprofessional and pathetic Jooheon fought. He was able to miss and dodge all of his failed swings, further frustrating Jooheon as he lashed out uncontrollably, shuffling forward in a rage as Jackson just calmly shrugged him off. Deciding that enough was enough, Jackson grabbed Jooheon’s closed fist that was meant for his face, before twisting it around his back and pushing Jooheon to the floor. Jooheon cried out in pain as Jackson pressed some of his body weight against his wrist, the pain surging through Jooheon’s body with every second that went by. “Okay okay stop! Get off fuck you’re gonna break something!” Jooheon screamed into the grass as Jackson continued to put pressure on him. “Did (Y/N) not tell you something similar when you rammed her against the wall and beat her to within an inch of her life? Why should I give you any mercy when you don’t offer it to anyone else? Hmm?!” Jackson’s voice was deep, well controlled and close to Jooheon’s ear as he pressed even harder, pulling Jooheon’s whole arm into a twist now. “Alright I get it! Fuck, please just don’t…I- I won’t touch her again! I’ll stay away from the both of you- please…f-f-fuck please stop!” tears started flowing from Jooheon’s eyes at the intense pain that was being inflicted upon him. Jackson leaned back a little. “If you ever come near her again, if you even so much as look in her direction; I won’t just break your arm. I’ll snap your fucking neck in half.” He growled, gritting his teeth. “I promise, I won’t. I’ll stay away. Wait…what do you mean you won’t just break my- FUUUUUUCK!” Upon hearing Jooheon’s answer, Jackson jerked Jooheon’s arm, making a snapping noise and administering a clean break. Jooheon screamed bloody murder before Jackson let go of him, leaving him to roll around on the grass as he clutched his arm close to his body. By now, they had attracted quite the crowd – even teachers looked on as none of them dared to get involved; even they were terrified of Jooheon. Everyone just stood in silence, watching Jackson as he walked over to you and listening as Jooheon screamed in pain on the ground. “Let’s go” he said, taking you by the hand and picking up your coat and bags as he walked towards the school gates. You both walked in silence until you reached a nearby park which was halfway between your school and your home. Jackson never let go of you once, before you both sat down on one of the benches in the park which was completely empty as all the kids were still in school. You weren’t sure what to say to him as you just stared at your knees, before you noticed that Jackson was looking right at you. You raised your gaze to meet his as he softened his features. “Did I scare you?” he asked softly. You would be lying if you said that what he did didn’t shock you, but you weren’t scared of Jackson, in fact; you had never felt more at ease with him than you did now. “No. Jooheon scared me, but you…you saved me. I’m just shocked that you were able to beat them up as you did” you chuckled dryly, making Jackson breathe a sigh of relief. “Hey I didn’t beat them up, it’s self defence. I let them all make the first move. If the school decide to call the police, I have more than enough witnesses to say that I never threw the first punch.” Jackson said proudly, giving you the smile that you adored so much as he beamed at you. Your emotions were so high already for him, and that just completely pushed you over the edge as you suddenly pressed your lips against his – making Jackson widen his eyes in complete shock. If it had of been appropriate to do so, he would have pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. But instead, he completely melted into your kiss, reaching his arms out and sliding you over, nearly pulling you on to his lap. You deepened the kiss, hungry for his love as you both opened your mouths granting each other fair access. You snaked your hands up and around his neck, feeling the stubble of his undercut tickle the palms of your hands as you listened to his laboured breathing. You smiled through the kiss, thinking to yourself about how long you had really wanted to do this for - the endless thoughts of kissing your best friend who you had accidently fallen in love with. All those times spent together, the late nights, the early mornings, the long school days and the short weekends by each other’s sides. As his hands gently rested themselves on your frame, you thought about how he had protected you, how he had risked everything to make sure you were okay. You thought back to his face when he seen the bruises on your body and how it looked like his world was coming crashing down around him. You gently pulled back, breaking the kiss and lacing your hand with his, looking into his deep brown eyes. “I…I love you Jackson” you said shyly but surely, as you softly bit your lip, tasting him on it and making you smile. Jackson’s heart was in his throat as he grinned uncontrollably, squeezing your hand and pulling you into his chest. “I already said it last night, but I assume you just thought I was saying it as a friend. But I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, so you better get used to me being around all the time to kiss you and snuggle you, just like this” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it as it made your heart drum through your chest. You rested in his arms, the petals from the cherry and apple blossom trees falling around the both of you as the warm sun shone down on you. There would be a lot to answer for tomorrow at school – Jackson breaking Jooheon’s arm, the both of you leaving school during the day without permission. But you knew that none of that was relevant because you had him. You had Jackson, and he had you. And with the two of you together, you knew that there was nothing that you couldn’t overcome and move on from. Because the love you both shared for each other may have been long overdue, but it was a million times stronger now, and that’s all that mattered.