#and now my dreams has sort of made me wonder if i do want a relationship after all

[girl-bateman]

I've been having a lot of dreams where im in secure and loving relationships, holding hands with my girl and cuddling and being generally wholesome, and its just......... nice but so weird bc im just waiting for the other shoe to drop and for my dreams to return to their usual gore-torture 😐 like this little lovey dovey fantasy is nice but it kinda feels like a trap ngl

[fastandcarlos]

First Newborn Moments : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: the first moments for you both after the emotional arrival of your daughter

No words could describe how you felt as your eyes glanced down to the little girl in your arms, everything that you had ever wanted. Charles was sat by your side, leaning across with wide eyes, studying the features of your daughter in awe. 

“Can you believe it?” You whispered across to Charles, unable to hide the smile on your face. “She’s just so perfect, so small, and beautiful, more than I could’ve ever imagined.” 

Charles nodded in agreement with you, brushing his hand over the top of her head. He didn’t know where to look as he took it all in, her brown eyes, the little dimple in her cheek, the way her mouth was slightly parted as she slept, it was all too much like a dream. 

“I feel like someone’s going to come in soon and wake me up,” Charles spoke, “tell me this is all some sort of dream, I feel so lucky right now to have all of this.” 

“I promise you that it’s all real,” you whispered, resting your head down against Charles’ shoulder. 

It was the moment the two of you had talked about for so long during your pregnancy, wondering how it would be and how overwhelmed you’d feel. Neither of you had prepared yourselves for quite how incredible it would feel though to finally have your daughter with you. 

“Can we swap for a moment?” Charles asked, desperate to have a hold of your daughter too. You nodded, watching as he nervously stretched his arms out to take her. “What do I do?” He grinned as you placed her down, scared for you to let go and let him hold her alone. 

“Just make sure you support her, body and head,” you told him, placing his hands exactly where they needed to be before letting go. “See, you’re a natural.” 

As you moved away, Charles’ eyes were still full of worry, slowly bringing her in towards his chest. “She looks so frail and tiny, like she could break at any moment. I can’t believe I’m actually trusted to take care of such a little human being.” 

Charles had made no secret of the fact that he was scared, terrified of messing up or doing the wrong thing. You’d spent many late nights wide awake talking about his worries together, with you constantly being on hand to reassure him, reminding Charles that you both would be learning for some time, after all, no parent was perfect. 

Your smile was wide as your eyes stayed with Charles, admiring how fondly he looked down at her. “She’s already relaxed in her daddy’s arms; you must be doing something right.” 

“Beginner’s luck,” Charles sniggered, momentarily looking up and across at you. “I can’t wait for everyone to get here later, my brothers are going to crazy when they see how beautiful she is, they’re already slightly obsessed.” 

“She has no idea how lucky she is, does she?” You chuckled, watching as your daughter’s eyes fluttered shut. “She’s got the most loving family in the world, and yet she’s got absolutely no idea who any of us actually are yet.” 

Charles leant across and pressed a kiss against the side of your head. “I’m going to make sure that she grows up knowing exactly how incredible you are and how hard your body just worked to bring her into this world,” he proudly told you. 

To say things didn’t quite go as well as you expected was an understatement, labour had been nothing short of a nightmare for you both. It had left Charles terrified, constantly wondering what was going to happen as midwives ran around you until your daughter arrived. 

“I wish I could sleep like this,” Charles chuckled, “without a single care in the world.” 

“I feel like I could sleep as well as she is right now, I’m absolutely exhausted.” 

Charles’ concerned eyes immediately looked across at you, weakly smiling as he met your eyes. He could tell how sore you were, even if you weren’t going to admit it, wanting to savour every moment that you could of having your daughter there with you. 

A sigh came from Charles as you let go of a yawn, trying your best to disguise it behind your hand. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll wake you if anything happens,” Charles suggested, nodding in the direction of the pillow behind you. “You need to be looking after yourself right now, you’re just as important as this one is.” 

“I’ll get some rest soon, I promise. I mean, we should probably get used to the lack of sleep now, right?” 

A quiet chuckle came from Charles, not wanting to disturb your daughter. His worried eyes still watched you, only relaxing when you propped yourself up and rested in the bed again, stretching your legs out to try and wake your body back up again. 

“I can’t wait to take this one to the paddock, show her all the cool things that her daddy gets up to.” 

Your smile was wide as Charles’ eyes lit up, excited for all the things he had to look forward to with her. “She’s going to be absolutely spoilt by everyone at that paddock, I think you’ll be a forgotten man when we take her, no one will want to pay any attention to you, just to her.” 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Charles proudly shrugged. “Just as long as she knows that no matter how much anyone in that paddock tells her they love her, they don’t love her anywhere near as much as we do.” 

“Trust me, with the way I know you’re going to spoil her, she’s definitely going to be a daddy’s girl,” you teased, resting your hand against Charles’ shoulder. “I can already tell from the look in your eye that our little girl is going to have you absolutely wrapped around her little finger.” 

Charles nodded, there was no doubt about it that your little girl was his new weakness, knowing that he would never be able to say no to her. 

He couldn’t believe what he did to get so lucky, not just to have his daughter, but you as well. It was the sort of thing Charles always dreamt about, but knew would probably never come true. Only for him, it did, and it was better than he could have ever imagined. 

As your daughter settled, Charles leant over once again and pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered, taking you by surprise. “Thank you for everything, for loving me, taking care of me, and giving me the greatest gift in the world. Nothing will ever be good enough to show you how appreciative I am that you’ve just made me a dad.” 

Your smile was wide as you glanced back across at Charles, “you don’t need to thank me Charles. I should be thanking you for being here, right by my side, and getting me through the last nine months. I love you.” 

“I love you too, more than you’ll ever know.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[indecisivemuch]

The Pact

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: Seeing you yearn for a relationship and dejected over the lack of one, Luke Castellan proposes a dating pact. Little did you know, he was going to do more than just wait until the day the pact could happen (friends-to-lovers, fluff, pining, a lot of longing, lowkey jealous luke).

Note: Sort of inspired by Monica and Chandler's pact thing from Friends.

Word count: 3.4k

You were spending some time alone near the lake, trying to enjoy mid summer sunlight as well as the silence from the lack of campers and couples around. For some strange reason, the number of people dating at least tripled in the last three weeks. If you were honest, the sight of happy couples was starting to irritate you.

Your eyes glided through the lines in the novel you were reading, though you could barely get past a few pages before a degree of bitterness seeped through. You set the book down and sighed. Your head leaned against the tree behind you while shutting your eyes and furrowing your eyebrows. 

Oh, if only someone could love you the same way love was portrayed in books.

Before the scowl could grow permanent on your face, you felt light finger tips setting on the crease between your eyebrows. Instead of getting scared, you remained calm. You knew immediately who it was because there was only one person who would do that. The person sat down next to you and you turned to see them already smiling at you. 

To most, Luke Castellan was just the Hermes cabin counselor and best swordsman. But to you, he was a close friend and confidante. He has made it a habit to press softly against your scrunched eyebrows to prevent you from scowling further. It was somewhat sweet to you.

“What’s got you so bothered?” Luke asked, peering at you while tilting his head in a boyish manner. The look alone somehow made you blush. There was no denying that Luke was cute. You knew at least a handful of people at camp who would agree. It honestly surprised you that he was still single. Though you were somewhat relieved at that. For about a year now, you have had a little crush on the Hermes cabin counselor. It was not hard falling for his kind words and sweet actions.

“This is going to sound so stupid…” You let out a deep sigh.

“Oh, come on, since when have I judged you for being stupid?”

“Oh, so you do admit I’m stupid sometimes?”

“Yes, but is that really a problem, considering I find it endearing?” You hope he did not see the way your face heated up at his words. 

Little did you know, Luke did notice it, just like he has always noticed little details about you. Knowing he was the reason behind your pink-tinted cheeks filled his heart with joy. In fact, throughout the last year, it got to the point where he would grow very bold with his flirty jokes, disguising his feelings in between them. Honestly, he was surprised you had not caught up to the truth yet. 

“Okay, well, so many people have gotten together lately, and it’s got me a little bit annoyed.”

“Why?” Luke questioned.

“Because, I want that experience, you know? The teenage love thing. We already have a strange life, fighting creatures and going on quests that could kill us. I just want to at least experience an aspect of a normal teenage life,” you watched him nod and digest your words. “I didn’t want it, want it. But seeing everybody else experiencing it makes me wonder when it will be my turn, you know?” You sighed before adding, “To make matters worse, it seems like nobody is interested in me that way, so…”

Luke almost let out a chuckle of disbelief at your last remark. Oh, many Demigods found you cute. But if only you knew to look right under your nose. He has always been here. If only you could see him how he wanted you to and give him a chance.

Ever since the day Luke Castellan met you, he became a dreamer. During the night, every dream would be of you, while in the morning, he’d daydream of you until he would see you next. You filled in every thought, walking in his mind like it was your home. But even if it wasn’t your place, he’d still give you the keys without hesitation.

“So…you just want to experience teenage love?”

“Well, that, and ideally, to be loved too. I don’t just want some casual teenage love, but at the same time, I’m tired of waiting around.”

A lightbulb practically lit up inside Luke’s head as an idea popped up. The logical part of his mind was yelling that this was a bad idea, though the more chaotic side was pushing him to just give it a shot. Though, he spent little time contemplating.

“What if we make a pact? By the end of summer - so maybe in about a month - if you haven’t started dating anybody…let’s date each other,” Luke blurted out before his mind could talk him into backing out. It was stupid, and he knew it. But if that was one way to potentially date you, then so be it. 

Luke’s heart squeezed when he saw you completely frozen. He started panicking. Maybe he made it too obvious, and perhaps you didn’t like him in that way and were trying to find a way to back out. 

“I mean—just so the both of us could experience teenage love, you know? I think it will be great. We already get along well. We’re good friends. What could go wrong?” Luke tried in a more casual voice.

A lot could go wrong — you thought. A possible thing that could go wrong is that you would fall harder for Luke, and that feeling would absolutely destroy you when you two break up because he finally becomes genuinely interested in another girl. Or, it has you so hung up that you would confess to him, only for him to say that whatever you two had was just a pact. But Gods, your heart must actually be a fool to whisper to your brain, ‘I mean…at least you would no longer have to imagine how it would feel like to be his.’

“Sure,” you said before you could think twice about it. “Deal,” you grabbed his hand and shook it.

“Deal.”

Now…Luke just needed to do a couple more things in the meantime.

During the first week, you asked Clarisse to set you up with somebody. She introduced you to one of her friends, Dean. However, when you mentioned Dean to Luke, he clicked his tongue before warning you.

“I just think you deserve better, Y/N. I’ve known him for five years and have never seen him bring one person on a date twice. Last week alone, he went on a date with five people.” Since then, you haven’t spoken to Dean again, deciding that you don’t want to try and date a playboy.

Two weeks later, you asked this guy on a date. He came to the picnic you had set up with a bouquet of flowers. However, your smile faltered slightly when you realized they were the type of flowers you disliked. You shook the negative thoughts away. After all, it’s the effort that counts.

Things quickly went downhill as the guy started sneezing…a lot. His eyes were watering, and it seemed like he was borderline getting sick. You noticed him trying to stop sneezing. You could feel the guy trying—you really did. But the last straw broke when he turned away to sneeze mid-sentence but didn’t do it fast enough. 

Three days before the day that marked the day the pact would be able to begin, you attended a party hosted by the Hermes cabin. You were honestly done with trying to find someone to date. Perhaps, this pact thing was not such a bad idea after all, even if Luke might not like you as much as you like him. But at least you knew he would treat you well.

However, your numbers must have turned because somebody had walked up to you and struck up a conversation. With similar humor, your jokes bounced off each other’s, and you almost started crying from laughing at one point.

The sound of your laughter caught the attention of the Hermes cabin counselor. Luke could feel his lips slowly curling up into a smile at the sound of your giggles and laughter. He has always found the sound so endearing.

However, when he turned his gaze over at you, his eyebrows scrunched at the sight of you conversing with another Hermes boy — Oscar, who was also one of his friends. Luke was no longer paying attention to the conversation in his circle right now. His ears were busy trying to make out what that boy was saying to make you laugh like that. However, he almost left his friends when you touched Oscar’s arm while giggling at another one of his jokes.

You always tend to physically react to Luke’s jokes, from small touches while laughing to you playfully slapping his arm at his cheekier jokes. They never fail to make the tip of his ears grow red while his cheeks match the same color. Though Luke swore he had never seen you this way with anybody else. Hence, he was less than enthusiastic at the sight of you doing the same with another guy right now. 

You continued talking to Oscar, but your conversation stopped when somebody bumped into Oscar and spilled their drink onto him. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip…” the guy who bumped into Oscar apologized.

“Chris, it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Oscar said, though a sigh quickly followed his words. “I’ll just go and wash the drink off, but I’ll talk to you in a bit, though?” Oscar looked at you. He smiled when you gave him a sweet nod.

“Sorry again, man,” Chris said before watching Oscar exit the cabin. He turned to you now. “So, how are you? Are you enjoying the party?” You answered Chris and started catching up with him. You and Chris met through Luke, though as the years went on you two became friends as well.

With your focus now on Chris, you did not notice the figure of the Hermes cabin counselor zooming past you two and outside, following a certain someone. However, your conversation with Chris didn’t last long because Clarisse swooped in and borrowed you from Chris. 

“So, I saw you talking to Oscar. Give me the details,” she said, dragging you down to sit beside her.

“He’s great! It’s so easy to talk to him and be around him.”

“Easier than with Luke?” you gave her a warning glare. You might have told her about your little crush on Luke, though you confessed that to her out of the belief that nothing would ever happen and that it would pass soon. Fast-forward to a year later, your feelings have not changed. 

“...No, but—”

“I’m telling you, Luke’s the best one for you.”

“He doesn’t like me like that.”

“If he doesn’t like you like that, he would have never made that pact with you." When you didn’t reply to her, Clarisse decided to bring something else up. “Alright, let’s move on and talk about something else then…another candidate. Dean told me you didn’t show up.”

“Show up to what?”

“He wrote you a note asking you to meet him?” the look on your face must have told Clarisse you had no idea what she was talking about. “He wanted to ask you out on a date in person after that talk you two had three weeks ago.”

“Where did he leave the note?”

“Apparently, he was planning to get me to give it to you, but he passed Luke on his way to me, who offered to give it to you.”

“Well, I never got the note. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Luke told me he’s quite a player.” Clarisse pondered on the information you just provided her. Dean was in no way a player. She knew he has only been on one date with another person at camp. However, the puzzle pieces quickly clicked for Clarisse and she leaned back with a smirk. 

Before you could question the look on Clarisse's face, Oscar came back to the party. 

“Well, if you don't mind, Oscar is back and I have a good feeling about him. So I'm going to go and talk to him,” you left Clarisse, walking in the direction Oscar did. Meanwhile, Clarisse only silently chuckled. She knew exactly what Luke was up to and it made her shook her head in amusement.

“Hey,” you touched Oscar’s arm, though the cheery grin on your face fell when he slightly flinched and shrugged your hand off. “Uhm, it’s good you got that stain off your shirt,” your eyebrows furrowed when you realized Oscar was not even making eye contact with you.

“So, tell me more about that quest you went on last year?” you asked, hoping to start a conversation again. However, Oscar quickly broke out the truth.

“Listen, you seem very lovely, but I don’t want to put myself in the middle of anything. I don’t want to cause any drama.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not the type of guy to steal girls my friends are talking to or having a thing with,” you scrunch your eyebrow in confusion. Just as you were going to question what Oscar was referring to, his eyes betrayed him and looked at someone. You followed his eyesight only to see Luke already looking at you while glancing between you and Oscar. Though realizing he had been caught, Luke looked away and back to his friends.

That was when everything made sense.

“Uh oh…” Chris’s voice snapped Luke from whatever his friends were saying. He followed his gaze to where Chris was looking, only to see you storming over.

“We need to talk,” Luke tried not to think too much about the way your hand felt on his wrist as you pulled him through the crowd and outside. As always, he blindly followed you to wherever you were taking him. 

You released Luke from your grip and stood with hands on your hips. You took a deep breath. 

“Are you kidding me? Have you been sabotaging me? You told me Dean plays around, but apparently he doesn’t. He also gave you a note to give to me, but you never did it. Then, Oscar, who I was getting along with, came back acting weird, wouldn’t even look me in the eye, and then told me we have a thing going on?”

Oh, Gods, you found out about what he has been doing.

“Listen…” Luke started off while rubbing his neck, though he was unsure what to say next because he was indeed guilty of every accusation you were throwing towards him. But how was he meant to trust fate that you would still be single by the time the pact would be able to come true?

So, he intervened in his own way. That included throwing away Dean’s note, having Chris spill a drink on Oscar to get the boy away from you so Luke could have a talk with him. He might have also suggested your date two weeks ago to get you flowers, despite knowing that the boy was allergic to flowers.

All he wanted to do was to make sure the pact could happen.

“Luke…why? You know I wanted this. I wanted to experience things and date someone.” You weren’t mad, but you were slightly disappointed and confused. You didn’t understand Luke’s intentions behind his actions.

However, Luke misinterpreted the look on your face. He thought you were genuinely upset, and that alone pinched Luke’s heart. He gulped at the idea that he might have disappointed you or made you sad. Screw waiting until the pact happens before confessing. What use would that be when you might somehow start hating him?

“...Maybe I wanted it to be me,” Luke confessed, watching your eyes widen. “You told me you wanted to experience teenage love and feel loved, and you’re tired of waiting until it’s your turn. But I have never told you what I want.” Luke took a step closer to you before starting.

“I want to be the one to take you on dates and give you your favorite flowers every single time. I want to be your personal hype man and be your shoulder to cry on if you ever need one. I want to sit with you by the lake while you read. I also want to read the books you read and those little annotations you make. I want to learn about the things you love and the things you don’t. I want to do things you love. I want to show and tell you just how amazing you are every single day. I want to let the feelings I have right now grow cause I really like the idea of loving you, and I want to get there someday.”

You stood there shell-shocked. This felt almost surreal, like something you read from one of your novels. You have always wished to have someone who practically walked out of a romance novel.

“I want you.”

And here he was, standing in front of you, begging for a chance to be yours.

“And I know you just want teenage love, and I could offer you that. But just know I’m also offering so much more, even if you don’t treat the pact the same way as I do and will only view it as a casual relationship. But I suggested that pact and chased all those guys away because I like you a lot, Y/N. And in hindsight, it was stupid and selfish. But I did it because I felt like it was the only way I could have you.”

“I like you too, Luke,” the words slipped out so easily like they were always meant to be said. “I want you to be my teenage love. I want you too.” You’ve been walking around asking when it would be your turn. If only you had paid attention and looked closer instead, you might have noticed he felt the same way. You wanted everything he has spoken of and be just the same for him — to be there for him and learn to love the things he does.

“And I look forward to every single one of the things you’ve told me, and be the same for you. I really can’t wait for it. However, there is one thing I really want right now,” you said as you walked closer to him, one hand taking his own into yours.

“What?” Luke rasped out, looking so tentatively at you. Gods, whatever wish that spills from your lips this second will have him scour the world for it—whatever guarantees your happiness.

“I want you to kiss me.”

Oh, you could ask him for a thousand kisses, and he would give you a million.

Luke’s cheeks grew rosy at your request. He stepped closer, tucking your hair behind your ear without breaking eye contact. 

“Can I?” He whispered in a honey-like tone, and you knew right then that if he kept talking to you in that voice, you’d do absolutely anything he asked.

“Mhm,” your quiet hum granted Luke permission to his next addiction. Without hesitation, Luke attached your lips together with both hands caressing your face tenderly. In return, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled you both closer until your bodies were flushed against one another. Slowly but surely, you also tangled your fingers in his curls. Luke almost immediately melted against your touch, sighing in contentment against the kiss.

Luke was convinced this was now his new favorite thing to do. He wondered if you could taste it through the kiss—his feelings and borderline infatuation for you. Either way, he intended on making every kiss like this: wholeheartedly and as if it would be your last. 

Now, if you were to ask Luke Castellan how to get the person of your dreams, here’s what he’d advise you:

Step 1. Be stupid and propose a dating pact (tick).

Step 2. Chase away every other potential candidate (tick).

Step 3. Confess (tick).

Step 4. Fulfill all those promises you have made about loving the person (To be continued...But, he’s intending to do this for as long as you’ll let him).

-------------------------

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[swappermanent]

Life In Retrospect

It started, like most things in my life, with a bit of harmless indulgence. I’d been out on the beach, metal detector in hand, just doing my thing. Call it a classic old guy hobby if you want—I know it sounds like one—but there’s something oddly satisfying about it. You spend your whole life accumulating things, working toward something, and yet, in your later years, you find yourself searching for what’s been left behind.

That’s when I found it. The detector beeped, low and insistent, over something solid buried in the sand. Brushing it off, I uncovered a necklace—a little tarnished but still striking. The pendant was shaped like a bird, wings spread wide, with an intricate design that caught the light just so. It looked old. And valuable, maybe. Not the kind of thing you’d expect to find washed up on a beach in a sleepy town like mine.

Being the curious sort, I took it home and started looking into it. I’m no stranger to the internet, mind you. For an old guy, I know my way around a reverse image search. After a bit of digging, I finally found a match, buried in an obscure corner of the web. Turns out, this wasn’t just any necklace. According to the article, it had magical properties—something about granting the deepest, most hidden wishes. But there was a catch: the wishes had to be subconscious. Wear it, the story claimed, and the wish would find you.

remember chuckling at the idea. It sounded like something out of a fairy tale. But then I paused, looking at the necklace in my hand, and wondered what exactly my subconscious would want, if it had the chance. Money? I wasn’t exactly rich, but I got by just fine. Love? I’d missed that boat, never found someone to share my life with. Fame? Ha, the idea made me laugh—what would an old man like me even do with fame?

I didn’t expect much from it, but it was an interesting enough piece, and it looked good against a sweater or tucked under a jacket, so I wore it. Weeks went by, and honestly, I forgot about it.

---

One day, I found myself at the gym. It was a bit of a routine for me—not the way it used to be when I was younger, of course, but I kept at it, lifting lighter weights and trying to stay active. This wasn’t just any gym, either; it had a reputation around town. People called it the “gay gym”—not officially, of course, but you could tell. The men here were fit, stylish, and, well, meticulous about their bodies in a way I could only admire from a distance. They looked like they belonged in magazines, and I’ll admit, I liked to let my eyes wander now and then.

Still, I kept to myself. At my age, I wasn’t exactly in the social scene here, and I’d long since learned to stay on the sidelines. I came, did my exercises, enjoyed the view, and went home.

But that day, for the first time, someone came up to me. His name was Mikey, and I’d noticed him before, of course. Hard not to, really. He was exactly the kind of man I might've dreamed of being, if I ever let myself dream about that sort of thing. He was young, muscular, with a powerful, chiseled build that made his plain T-shirts look sculpted onto him. His dark hair was perfectly styled, a casual yet intentional wave falling over his forehead. And that mustache—thick, neatly trimmed, lending him a rugged, almost classic appeal, like he could’ve stepped out of a 1970s action movie. He even wore glasses, tortoiseshell frames that gave him an unexpected touch of charm and sophistication. I'd managed to snap a few photos of him before at the gym when he wasn't looking.

I’d seen him around for months, usually catching glimpses of him bench-pressing absurd weights or chatting with friends, his laughter deep and easy. He looked like the kind of guy who owned his confidence, who walked through life knowing that people admired him. And, hell, I was no exception. I'd spent enough stolen moments sneaking glances at those bulging arms, that thick neck, the way his shoulders seemed to strain the fabric of whatever he wore. Every time, I felt a little flutter inside—a mix of envy and something more primal, something I barely let myself think about.

So imagine my surprise when he came up to me. Even he seemed a little surprised, his brow creasing just slightly like he didn’t quite know what had prompted him to approach. And then, he asked me about my necklace.

“Hey, where’d you get that necklace?” he said, eyes flicking from my face to the pendant hanging over my chest. “It’s… different. Kind of cool.”

I felt a little jolt of something—excitement, nerves, maybe both—at the attention. He wanted to know about my necklace? Of all things? I opened my mouth to respond, and then something strange happened. The words just… flowed. I started telling him all about it—how it had been crafted in some long-ago time by hands that shaped it with care, about the artisan who’d worked on it and how they were renowned for imbuing special powers into their pieces. I talked about the mystical properties, the magic of wishes hidden deep in one’s subconscious, waiting to be drawn out by the wearer.

Thing is, I didn’t know any of that. Not consciously. But as I spoke, it felt like I was reading from some invisible script, like the knowledge was being given to me as I said it out loud.

Mikey listened, his gaze locked onto the pendant, almost entranced. Then, he looked back up at me, that curiosity still burning in his eyes.

“Would you mind if I tried it on?” he asked, his voice a little softer, like he was almost embarrassed by the question.

Without a second thought, I nodded, slipping the necklace off and handing it over to him. He took it carefully, his fingers brushing mine—warm, rough skin, the kind that spoke of hard work and hours in the gym. He put it on, and I swear, the thing looked like it was made for him. It hung perfectly against his chest, the bird pendant resting right in the middle of that strong, solid frame.

As I watched him, something stirred in me. I felt a warmth spreading through my body, a tingling that started low and radiated outward, like a current of energy. I caught myself glancing down, noticing with a bit of embarrassment that I was half-hard. But I couldn’t help it—the sight of him, my necklace gleaming against his chest, his broad shoulders framed by that perfectly fitted T-shirt, was… well, let’s just say it was doing things to me.

“Actually,” I said, clearing my throat and giving him an appreciative once-over, “it suits you. Why don’t you keep it?”

Mikey’s eyebrows lifted, surprised but clearly pleased. “Really? You sure?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice a little unsteady, trying to hide the flush of heat that was working its way up my neck. “Consider it a gift.”

---

That night, I felt warmer than I had in years—almost feverish, but not quite. I thought maybe I was coming down with something; I’d spent enough winters nursing colds to recognize that slight ache, the subtle throbbing behind my eyes. I drank water, tried to stay hydrated, but there was something strange about the feeling. It wasn’t just heat; it was a tingling sensation that seemed to move through my limbs, settling into every muscle and joint.

I told myself it was just exhaustion. Maybe I’d pushed myself too hard at the gym, or maybe the excitement of talking to Mikey had rattled my old bones more than I wanted to admit. Either way, I decided to call it a night, pulling the covers up and letting myself drift off to sleep.

But somewhere in the dead of night, I woke up drenched in sweat, sheets tangled around my legs. My skin felt hot, almost burning, and my heart pounded like I’d just sprinted a mile. I lay there in the dark, trying to orient myself, but nothing felt right. My arms, stretched out beside me, felt heavier, thicker somehow. I pushed up to sit, but even that felt… different.

For a moment, I thought I might be having a stroke or some other senior moment, and the thought made my stomach twist. Taking a few deep breaths, I tried to shake off the dizziness, to piece together where I was and what was happening.

But as I sat up and tried to get my bearings, the space around me looked foreign. Strange shadows fell across walls I didn’t recognize. There was a faint streetlight glow filtering through blinds that weren’t mine, casting an odd light over an unfamiliar dresser, scattered clothes, and a large mirror across the room.

Where am I?

I swung my legs out of bed, almost stumbling under my own weight. The muscles in my legs tensed and shifted in a way that felt… powerful, but wrong. Instinctively, I reached for the light switch, my fingers brushing over the unfamiliar nightstand before finding it. The room flooded with light, revealing more alien surroundings. Posters on the wall. Dumbbells in the corner. This wasn’t my bedroom. I didn’t own posters. Or dumbbells.

Disoriented, I took a few steps, bare feet touching cool, unfamiliar carpet, as I wandered toward the bathroom. I had to steady myself on the doorframe—the sheer strength I felt in my grip, in the size of my hand, jolted through me. I flipped on the bathroom light and looked up, squinting against the sudden brightness.

And then I saw him. Mikey.

In the mirror was his face, his body—muscular and tanned, dark hair tousled and falling forward slightly. I could feel my heart hammering in his broad chest, watched his—my—eyes go wide as I touched my face, tracing over a jawline sharper than I’d ever had, rough stubble under my fingers.

“Oh… my god,” I whispered, hearing Mikey’s voice, deep and smooth, coming from my own mouth. The face in the mirror looked just as shocked as I felt, my hands gripping the edges of the sink to steady myself as I took in the sight of every inch of him—of me.

A thrill shot through me, warmth bubbling up from my stomach as I ran my hand over the expanse of his—my—shoulders, over the swell of the chest, down to the ridged abs, and finally feeling up his impressive package. I couldn’t stop the smirk creeping onto his—my—face, couldn’t stop the pulse of excitement thrumming through me. Holy hell. This was real. I was Mikey.

And then, with a jolt, I realized something was missing. My hand went up to my neck instinctively, searching for the familiar weight of the necklace, but my fingers brushed only bare skin. No chain. No pendant.

A part of me, somewhere deep down, was concerned—confused and alarmed, really—but right now, looking at the smirking, shirtless, muscular guy in the mirror, the overwhelming feeling was… arousal. I’d never looked like this. I’d never felt like this.

Stay Tuned For Part 2.  

[omgthatdress]

Just a little considerations for those still grieving Liam Payne

So, right now, you are probably still lost in some very real grief over someone you never met but has still been a major part of your life since you were thirteen. You feel like you've lost an extremely close friend. It's hard to imagine your life where he isn't somehow present.

I know all this because felt the exact same way seven years ago when Chester Bennington died by suicide. And I do have a little bit of wisdom to share with you all right now, wisdom that I really wish I didn't have.

First of all, it's okay to be sad. To cry. To feel like shit and wish this had happened to someone else, someone who deserved it. Give yourself the time and space to feel all that because it's the only way you can start to move on. Feeling sad is only a problem when, months later, you simply CAN'T move on. That's depression, and that's when you should seek professional mental health treatment.

Secondly, there aren't going to be ANY easy answers in this. Right now a lot of people are looking for fingers to point, people to blame, and even finding conspiracy theories that Liam was murdered. While it may be initially comforting to fall into the idea that Liam didn't do this to himself, he was murdered for some reason (usually because he was going to expose a pedophile ring of some sort), conspiracy theories are always wrong and will NEVER give you the satisfying answer you want.

It was Liam's decision to step out onto that balcony, and his alone. It is no one else's fault. Accepting that is incredibly hard to do, but it is ultimately what will grant you the most peace.

As for what lead up to that, well, there's a lot. Fucked up celebrity deaths are kind of my Roman Empire, so while I never knew Liam, I DO know a lot about what leads up to huge, terrible tragedies that play out in the tabloids in extremely ugly ways.

Becoming famous at a really young age is an incredibly mixed bag. While you do get to live out this shit 99% of people on earth can only dream of, it does mean you often find yourself at 30 with a career that's basically over. A lot of young celebs simply don't know what to do with themselves once the fame and adoration has dried up, and the answer is usually to do an absolute fuck ton of drugs.

Drug and alcohol abuse changes your personality. I know this from personal experience. Someone very close to me developed a serious problem with alcohol, and turned from a kind, funny, wonderful person to someone nasty, abusive, and resentful. Someone I didn't recognize at all. While I and my person were very lucky that they were able to quit drinking, not everyone is so lucky.

Liam deserved better. He was so young and he still had ample opportunity to turn his life around. But he made one terrible decision, and now he's dead, and there simply is no changing that.

So what do you do? Remember him, and love him. Be grateful for the joy that he brought into your life. Sing his songs, and stay close to the friends you made because of him. The fact that you are so fucking sad right now is a beautiful thing, because it only shows how deeply loved Liam Payne really was.

[moonstruckme]

wearing spencers clothes🤯🤯 the boy would not be able to focus!!!! i love all of your work btw!! you're single handedly encouraging me back into my marauders phase❤️

Then my scheme is working ! Thanks for requesting babe :)

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Spencer has to force himself out of bed so you don’t wake up to him staring at you. Also, so he has time away from you to get himself together. 

He’s never felt so much like skipping before. As soon as he’s in the kitchen, full to bursting with the knowledge that you’re asleep one room over, his smile is unshakable. It’s embarrassing, honestly, he’s like a high schooler. You can’t see him like this. He starts going through the kitchen to see what’s not expired. Ketchup, hummus, bread, muffin mix (too risky), mattar paneer (not a very good breakfast), eggs. Spencer can work with eggs. He has to double-check that he has both salt and pepper, but he’s good to go.  

He pops bread in the toaster once he hears you moving around, a giddy flare of anticipation shooting up through his middle. You’ve never stayed over before, and Spencer didn’t have any time to prepare. He only has one hand towel, which you seem fine with sharing and he’s going to pop in the washing machine as soon as you leave, and only one toothbrush. He feels bad that you have to brush your teeth with your finger. If you deem him worthy of a next time, he tells himself, he’ll be ready then. 

He hears the quiet padding of your footsteps but forces himself not to turn around until you say, “Morning.” 

Your voice is stretched with sleep, and when Spencer turns around he can see it still lingering in your face. Your eyelids are droopy, weighted down, and your hair looks like you’ve tried to run your fingers through it but couldn’t quite get it to behave, and you’re—that’s his sweater vest. You’re wearing his sweater vest. 

He must be staring, because you look down at it, your expression going sheepish. “Sorry, is this okay? I know you’re sort of particular about germs, but I didn’t want to just come out here naked, and I really didn’t feel like putting on my jeans…” 

Spencer shakes his head quickly. “No, it’s fine.”

All the stuff you’d done last night, and you think he’s going to be fussy about your germs on his clothes? This is a completely different kind of upset. You’re—you look—well, you look like something Spencer dreamed up. You look like comfort and sweetness and Sunday morning. 

“Okay, thanks.” You smile. Spencer thinks that if he were hooked up to a transducer, you’d actually be able to see the rush of dopamine to his brain. “It’s lucky you’re so tall, this fits me like a dress.” 

A small dress, but sure. “I also have a disproportionately long torso,” he blurts. “My legs aren’t as long as they should be for my height, so my shirts and vests are longer than average.” 

You nod like everything he’s just said made perfect and socially acceptable sense. The toast pops up and Spencer jolts a little, remembering to push the eggs around in the pan a bit. 

A little smile tilts your lips, and you lean back against the counter behind him. “Are you making us breakfast?” 

“Mhm.” 

The smile spreads, your eyes going soft. “That’s so sweet of you,” you say warmly. “Thanks, Spence.” 

“I can’t really cook,” he warns you. “I mean, I can usually do eggs, but only scrambled and even then I might…just don’t thank me yet.” 

A little laugh spurts out of you. It reminds Spencer of the fountain in front of his work, of water sparkling in the sun. “Okay,” you say, “do you want any help?”

“It’s probably best if whatever happens is undeniably my fault.”

You laugh again. He wonders what he can do to make that keep happening. 

“Fair enough.” You push off the counter, headed towards the door. “Do you get the newspaper?” 

For a second, Spencer’s too busy watching you go to remember if he does. “Y—yeah. It should be here by now,” he says. 

He hears the door open, and then, “Perfect.” You come back brandishing the rolled-up paper, discarding the rubber band in his trash bin. “Do you mind if we do your crossword? You seem like you’d be so good at that.” 

Spencer actually stopped doing the crossword years ago—the pop culture references he didn’t get, and the rest were too easy—but he’ll do it if it might impress you. 

“Sure, let’s try.” 

“Okay.” You grab a pen from the coffee table, spreading the paper open on the countertop. “Wyoming’s state sport, five—”

“Rodeo,” Spencer says. It takes him a beat to realize he cut you off. He turns, grimace in place and apology on his lips. “Sorry.” 

But you’re grinning. You shake your head a little bit, pride or admiration or a bit of both, and write it down. You push a piece of hair away from your face. Spencer’s eyes get caught on the wool of his sweater vest where it brushes your collarbone. 

“African river to the Mediterranean, four letters. That’s the Nile, right?” 

The garment seems to shift with every tiny movement. Sliding atop your shoulders, moving about your neckline, the soft material skimming your ribs. Under the counter, it has to be bunched underneath your thighs. 

“Spence?” 

“Hm?” He forces his gaze up. “Yeah, the Nile.” 

“Thanks.” Your eyes linger on him a second too long before you bend back over the paper, a knowing smile playing on the corner of your lips. “Okay, and eagle claw in five letters is talon, right? Oh, um, eggs.” 

Spencer’s brow wrinkles. “How many letters?” 

“No, Spence.” You laugh, sliding out of your seat. You tug his sweater down a bit as you walk over, the band at the bottom hugging your thighs. “The eggs. Your eggs.” 

He turns, registering the smell of smoke before the sight of the crispy, blackened eggs in his pan. “Oh.” 

You reach past him, elbow bumping his as you switch off the heat. Spencer moves the hot pan away from you quickly. He scrapes his sorry eggs into the trash bin, setting the pan in the sink.

“Sorry, I got distracted by the crossword,” he tells you, and though he suspects you catch the lie you’re kind enough not to call him out on it. 

“It’s fine.” You shoot him another of those brilliant, beaming smiles, taking a piece of cold toast from the toaster. “I love toast. Do you have any butter or jam or anything?” 

Spencer winces. “Not really…” 

You laugh, giving his arm a reassuring pat. “No worries. I’m down for a trip to the store if you are.” He nods sheepishly, and you press your lips together, thoughtful. “I think I might change first, though.” 

[houseofceline]

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Steal My Girl

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

Summary: Theo's friends get to meet you for the first time.

< 2

__________________

Perfect. 

You clapped your hands in satisfaction after taking a little study break to organize all your fabrics by color. The plan was originally to go to the dining hall to grab a quick snack, but your messy little studio set up in your dorm easily distracted you on the way out and made you change your plans. 

Your fingers flipped through the pages of your design sketchbook. A small smile formed on your face as you traced your sketches. 

Fashion. 

The only thing that you felt competent in. You didn’t have to try to make things look good. It was the only thing that came natural to you. You could plan an entire outfit for any occasion faster than you could even list the ingredients in a simple potion. You weren’t going to become a doctor like both of your parents, but you thought it’d be better to do something you’re good at rather than forcing yourself to study materials that you’ll never be able to understand. No matter how many times they tried to persuade, or threaten, you to change career paths, you never strayed far from your dreams. The dreams that kept you happy when you were scolded for wanting to stay home and draw instead of going with your father to work.

At least you will never have the chance to mess up a surgery. That would be worse than the invention of jeggings. 

The door swung open and your roommate walked in. You furrow your eyebrows upon her presence, wondering why she would be back so early from her date with Cedric. 

“How’d your date go?” You closed your design book and walked towards your bed before flopping onto it. 

So comfy. 

Cho sighed before rolling her eyes, “stupid last minute quidditch practice.” 

You giggled as your stomach growled. Maybe you should’ve gotten a snack before you decided to clean. 

“Dining hall?” Cho offered her arm out. 

You jumped up from your bed and happily skipped over to her and took her arm. 

“I’m famished,” You exclaimed in desperate need of having anything in your stomach after the oatmeal bowl for breakfast. 

“Me too, Cedric had promised me pastries from a bakery in Hogsmeade before I got canceled on,” Cho grumbled as the two of you walked in a pair towards the hall. 

Pastries. Croissants. Ugh you missed home. France has the best pastries. Now you were craving a chocolate croissant. Not that croissants are the only pastry in France. 

“Next ti- ow,” you rubbed your head after the harsh impact, stumbling a bit. 

“Watch where you’re going next time mate,” another boy came up and landed a harsh slap on his back. 

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” The boy in front of you questioned frantically while trying to hide the fact that he was searching your head for any bruises. Theo might kill him if he made a bruise on his “pretty girl”. 

“I‘m okay,” you waved your hands in front of your face, kind of nervous that people were starting to look.

“Hello y/n,” The other boy came up and offered his hand out. 

You were confused on how he knew your name despite the fact that you didn’t know his, but still shook his hand. 

The boy chuckled at your confused looking expression. He could understand why Theo had called you pretty instead of his usual “she’s hot”s that the group would receive when talking about girls. 

“I’m Mattheo, Riddle,” he winked, “Nott’s friend. And this is Lorenzo.” 

You made an ‘ohh’ face in recognition but you remained surprised at the fact that you were even linked to him. 

Cho nudged your side. You looked over to her and was met with a raised eyebrow. You were as equally as confused as her. You and Theodore had only interacted once and it was during that one potions class, the day Cho had to skip due to sickness. You had no idea why his friends knew about you or were even talking to you.

But nonetheless you offered a warm smile towards the two boys, “nice to meet you.”  

“Nice to finally meet you too,” Lorenzo returned the gesture. You liked him, he seemed nice. 

Cho cleared her throat while clutching her stomach. You had forgotten what the two of you had even come to the hall for. 

“Well, enjoy your meal!” You waved them goodbye as Cho dragged you to the Ravenclaw filled tables and out of their sights. 

“Who are you losers bothering,” Theo scowled and smacked the two boys on the back. 

“We were just getting acquainted with our best mate’s girlfriend,” Mattheo teased as Theo raised his arm pretending to hit him, making Mattheo duck. 

“Girlfriend? Please, you and I both know I don’t do none of that,” Theo rolled his eyes and the trio walked over to their table. 

“Lucky her, you’re not exactly boyfriend material yourself,” Enzo replied as they took their seats grabbing their lunches before quidditch practice. The first game between Slytherin and Gryffindor was coming up, they needed all the fuel they could get before Malfoy made them run what felt like 100 laps during practice. 

“What are you talking about? I'm the epitome of it,” Theo replied confidently as he took a bite of his sandwich. Sandwich was a bit dry, Italians do it better.

“Right, someone bring Hannah over for questioning,” Mattheo laughed as Theo glared at him.

“We never dated, I don’t owe her anything.” 

____________________

“IT’S SO COLD!” You let out a high pitched scream as a huge gust of wind blew right into your face. You had a sweater that you knitted yourself on, paired with a skirt and black tights along with a designer scarf you had searched the whole country for. It was late October, but you hadn’t expected the weather to drop this low. Maybe you should’ve worn your winter coat or opted for a bigger scarf. Or maybe you shouldn’t have come at all. That was the original plan until Cho had managed to convince you to attend. You didn’t really understand quidditch. The whole game seemed complicated to you, plus the whole flying really high and the possibilities of students getting hurt didn’t sit well with your stomach. But you came regardless and it seemed to make Cho very happy. 

“I KNOW BUT WE HAVE SUCH GOOD SEATS!” Cho screamed over the loud clapping and cheering that signaled that the game was about to start. Loud screaming, another thing you weren’t a huge fan of. 

“HERE!” Cho screamed as she took her earmuffs off and placed them on your head. 

“YOU MIGHT NEED THEM MORE THAN I DO!” She yelled before turning her attention back to the game. 

One by one players in either red or green began to fly out. Everyone you were cheering as if it was a competition to see which side would be the loudest. 

“GO HARRY! YEAH!” You heard Cedric shout from the other side of Cho. 

You didn’t know any Gryffindors that well but since you were in a crowd of people all supporting that team, you didn’t want to stand out so you decided to clap along. 

You recognized a few Slytherin players, the faces of the two boys who you had bumped into a few days earlier were spotted flying on broomsticks. You secretly clapped for them as well. 

The mixture of red and green made your heart happy. Christmas. Your favorite holiday. Only two months to go! You couldn’t wait until you get to start putting together presents and drink peppermint mochas with your friends. It was all so exciting! 

Focus on the game! 

You scolded yourself. You look up and frown as you see players begin to grow aggressive. You frowned as a Gryffindor player tried to throw one of those flying balls at Lorenzo. 

You knew it was part of the game but the fact that someone had almost harmed the nice boy made you want to reach for your wand. 

“Yay go Enzo!” You cheered and clapped as you watched him dodge them with ease. A few Gryffindors side eyed you and gave you nasty stares but it was hard to pay them any mind with the distracting colors of ketchup and mustard wrapped around their necks. 

Theo wanted to thank Berkshire, he really did. He wanted to thank him for providing him the strength to throw bludgers at Gryffindors. What was he doing stealing your attention like that? Last time he checked Berkshire was busy trying to ask out a Slytherin a year younger than them. He needs to leave you alone, you were his friend first. Maybe he should throw a bludger and knock Berkshire off his broom. 

Would that be a Slytherin or Gryffindor point?

[ma1dita]

about you

this was a request! read it here

words: 4.3k (longest one yet ohmy)

summary: james potter takes ‘easier’ for granted and finds out he now has a living reminder of that

warnings: none! sort of au, everyone lives and they win the war— angst angst angst, maybe open ended!!! groveling james and reader is a MOTHA (afab!)

a/n: guys i missed writing angst…i’m a deeply sad soul at heart so i enjoyed this a lot. I listened to ‘night shift’ by lucy dacus writing the first half, and ‘about you’ by the 1975 for the second half,,,,, both on repeat. i don’t mean to post at ungodly hours but i hope you enjoy!

posted: 11/11/23

—-

Insecurity is an ugly thing. It tugs at your frame, holding your shoulders hostage and your countenance shriveled in a scowl as you slink forward in your seat. But what should the rational reaction be when your boyfriend, the one you’ve planned out the rest of your life with— takes you out to dinner on a random Tuesday and then decidedly backtracks on everything you’ve built together? Your ears are ringing loudly, and you dumbly ask him to repeat himself when he says he wants to take a break.

“So that’s it then. You’ve made your decision and I just have to be okay with losing a year and a half of my life because you aren’t sure if you love me?” Your tone cuts through the fraying tether that holds you two together in the corner booth.

James for once, is at a loss for words. He wasn’t really sure of what to expect when he brought you here tonight, but any reaction to his admission was bound to hurt the both of you. You had to have known about his hesitations. Graduation was three weeks away, and everything was about to change, whether either of you liked it or not. Stupidly enough, James does love you, but that’s not the problem. The proximity he’s had as Head Boy working with Lily Evans makes him wonder if the life he lives is what’s meant for him. It keeps him up at night, gnawing at his resolve and comfort in being with you. He feels ungrateful to have it so easy. Loving you is easy. But the imposter syndrome sneaks into his room late at night in the form of ‘what if’.

“I…it’s just the timing of it all. We’re about to leave Hogwarts, and I don’t want to tie you down if I know I’m unsure of my—our future.”

He reaches out to grab your hand, and many a time ago, his sense of awareness was what you admired about him. You’d both get this familiar feeling of needing comfort, and within a minute, your fingers would intuitively find the other’s like it was second nature. Now, the thought of his touch might make you break his hand off to serve on a silver platter.

“Fuck your timing. If you think it’s as easy as making the decision to just quit while we’re ahead…. I love you. Don’t you…Is that not—” 

You clear your throat, the fire in your indignation being stifled by the whimpering feeling of knowing this was going to happen. The understanding of his plight, the knowing that he wants more. You could see it in the way his eyes wander when you all hang out, and you could feel it when he needs time to himself before bed, letting you back to your common room in the late hours alone. Screw your heart for appealing to his indecisiveness, his fear, when the final blow is aimed at the relationship you both once wanted together. Head Boy and Head Girl share living quarters after all. What chance did you stand against the girl he fell asleep a room away from? Maybe he dreams of her too, what you couldn’t give and what more she has to offer. 

“Tell me something James,” you choke as your body heaves with something akin to nausea. Being lovesick isn’t as romantic as it seems. The hopeless feeling in your tummy throbs as you clench your fists to keep it all down.

“Whatever you want.” 

His reply makes you laugh, desolation gripping your esophagus. Who knew feeling empty would feel like drowning? There is no more air left in your lungs that it almost incapacitates you, your last breath spilling out your final ask of him.

“Do you love me? What did I do?” 

The noise and chatter around you seems to fall silent as he zeroes in on your face, crestfallen from the words that leave your lips. It isn’t your fault, but how can he tell you that? At 18, he’s feeling stifled by the privilege of having his life all planned out for him. He knows people spend their lives searching for contentment but James can’t decipher if he’s right for all of this pressure falling upon his shoulders. The societal heir of his father’s business empire. The face of the upcoming war, bringing in a new generation of soldiers to fight. 

Deep inside, he’s a wild spirit just wanting to live, to be free. And it scares him that you’d follow him to the ends of the Earth, that there isn’t much thinking involved, just doing. The lack of autonomy stifles his soul. How does one know if they’re meant for more? James doesn’t want you to have to suffer the consequences if he can’t figure it out himself.

“I love you honey. So much it hurts me. I just wonder if it’s enough.” 

Your hands clatter onto the table, bumping your half-empty pint of butterbeer as you gather your things, shoving them into your knapsack as his final blow hits your senses. And all he does is watch you, face transfixed as if he sees nothing, like he isn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.

There’s no going back after this, you think silently as you steady your trembling hands. There’s also no way in hell you’ll let him see you cry. Fuck that. Your eyes fall over the curls that drape over the frame of his glasses, his face cradled by candlelight and dear Merlin, do you love this boy. All of him, even the parts that don’t reciprocate the feeling. This is the final snapshot in your memory of him, because this fleeting moment will have to be enough.

“I hope you get everything you ever wanted James. For my sake, I hope I never hear a thing about it.”

Perhaps having the last word will absolve you of the feeling that desecrates your entire essence as you put one foot in front of the other, pushing past the door of the Three Broomsticks and out into the unknown. But it’s not enough.

—

The break in routine absolutely shatters you, if we’re being honest. A year and a half of loving him, and three more before that of liking the slow steady burn that is James Potter…. It’s like looking at the world with new eyes and this window of opportunity with graduation nearing is your chance of starting anew. There’s also the custodial aspect after the end of a relationship, and it’s hard to separate the rest of what’s yours and his in your mind. Your friends are his, and his are yours. It makes quite a predicament to not have things so easy as they consider who to eat lunch with, or who’s dorm to hang out in. Hopefully, things get easier with time but you’re not as confident as you once were.

A part of you feels like you don’t belong anywhere anymore. James is the sun, after all; a natural leader— everyone revolves around his ingenious ideas and the light he brings. He’s the one who always has a plan, and everyone follows in his stead. Where do you fit in all of that? Where do you go?

His parents are likely the loveliest people to ever grace the wizarding world. Euphemia catches you by the arm after the graduation ceremony as you’re about to take the 7th year boat back across the Black Lake. With no family in attendance and no boyfriend to dote on, niceties were expended quick enough to want to run out of there and never look back.

“Darling, are you leaving without a goodbye?” Mrs. Potter smiles, calling her husband over both with grins made of sunlight. 

Somehow it resonates in your brain that it’s finally over, and your lip trembles when they pull you in for a hug that rivals your hunger to be loved. You think that even if your parents showed up today, it wouldn’t have felt this kind.

“Congratulations dearest! We’re so proud of you,” Fleamont rumbles, a big man with an even bigger heart as he brandishes flowers out of thin air to hand to you daintily. You’re going to miss them terribly. Is it wrong to want more of this? But you remember why it’s not as James’s cologne floods your senses and his silhouette creeps into your periphery. Your smile grows smaller as you two stare at each other and breathe the same air for the first time in almost a month. Whatever’s thrumming in your being, he holds the key to. Mr. and Mrs. Potter try to loop you into a photo together, the magical kind that moves to capture a memory so intimately but both of you stand perfectly still as his and your hesitant dismissals go unheard.

Loving hands fuss over both your caps and the way hair sticks out until you feel your shoulders jostle together for a moment and his hand lands on the small of your back. The flash goes off as you two look at each other in something that still resembles love. You can’t unlove him, not in a day, a month, or ever, you think. Not if you’ve bared your soul to him, even if he hurt you. 

You look away first, urging your heart to come back to reality. He’s not yours anymore, and you still love him. Alice told you earlier that he asked Lily out on a date for next Tuesday. What you were supposed to do with that information you’re unsure, but the feeling in your belly helps you say goodbye to the Potters, and clarify that they can keep the picture since you’re not James’ girlfriend anymore. An awkward silence settles over all four of you.

Euphemia rubs your cheek, hushed promises of keeping in touch while Fleamont looks at his son in confusion. James’ hand flexes in the absence of your body against his. He simply watches you walk away again, alone, while he’s surrounded by his friends and his family. The beating of a tiny heart matching your own as you hop onto the boat proves otherwise.

—-

A baby.

You think back to when it must’ve happened, the weekend before that Tuesday, when everything still felt right. With your last exams of your academic career finally done, both you and James were tangled in his silk sheets until dawn, an amalgamation of passionate whispers and lingering touches you could still feel in the days that followed. As you stared at the flutter of his eyelashes and relished the way he pulled you closer in his dream state, you were quite sure that he is, too, tangled within your soul to let go. That your doubts were residual anxiety from preparing for the future. For the first time in a while, you were reaffirmed that the boy sleeping next to you was your forever. Not being careful was a consequence of feeling safe in his arms, and subconsciously, you both hoped that everything would work itself out. As you walked out of the Head Students’ Lounge past noon with James’ hickeys as a necklace and donning your boyfriend’s shirt, you noticed the blush on Lily Evans’ face. You were just so sure, but that felt like forever ago.

Your parents weren’t happy when they came back from their business trip two months after graduation to find you four months along with a prominent bump and filled with so much fear. All plans of getting a job, of moving out, and joining the Order were now replaced with the startling fact that you are 18 and don’t have a single clue on what to do next. Your childhood bedroom feels smaller tonight, with both your parents standing at the door, all of you unsure of what to say. You can’t remember the last time they tucked you in, but as your dad takes a seat on the edge of your bed, it seems possible that maybe you won’t be alone in all of this.

“Whatever decision you make will be the right one, sweetie. If you love that baby, then we do too,” he sniffles, and you don’t recall having ever seen him this emotional before. One thing you are sure of, is this baby is loved, and made from love. The next is that England is not a safe place to raise your baby. 

Somewhere far away, in a hidden place guarded by some of the most experienced wizards, the Order of the Phoenix meets again to determine the future of the wizarding world. James’s eyes dart back and forth from the door to whichever adult is talking about the next mission. You didn’t show up again. All of the meetings so far where he was always the first one to arrive and the last to leave in hopes of getting a glimpse of you, and you never showed. There’s a deep worry that haunts him as the months pass by, and he knows that it would be easy to send you a letter, or to show up at your door, but he’s probably the last person you want to see. 

“We’re going out for a pint, you ready to leave James?” Lily whispers into his ear, arms curling around to his chest. But he’s not ready at all, sat on the sofa with his eyes on the door, just in case. Trying to love someone who’s still in love is a losing battle, Lily thinks, as she watches her boyfriend look like a child missing their favorite blanket. But in a war like this one, no one would be foolish enough to decline company.

“I’ll meet you there,” he smiles, leaning back to kiss her cheek. It’s cruel to both of them, the way he’s acting knowing that Lily won’t ever be you. Every chance he gets to have a moment to himself, he thinks of the despondent look on your face as you walked away from him and his parents that day. No more anger at all, no biting words or the fighting spirit that he knows and loves. Both of you just accepted what was to come.

Sirius and Remus approach him later after everyone’s left that they got word that you moved to America. He thinks of what could’ve been, and the thought of your safety is the only thing that lets his mind rest as guilt pushes and pulls at his heartstrings like waves.

He’s spent these months fighting in the war, loving and losing that he thinks this isn’t anything like the white house and picket fence fantasy you both used to cook up. As he grabs his coat to leave, James wonders if by being away from all of this you’ll get to live the life you want. 

—

“Okay honey, hold on tight to mama.” 

Your little boy was almost bouncing off the pavement with a chocolate covered grin, and it makes you laugh harder than it should. Maybe Florean Fortescue’s was not the way to start off your son’s first trip to Diagon Alley, but your new job at the Ministry starts tomorrow and you’ve been missing your favorite stationery. The town was packed with people with the war having ended and trying to start anew. You haven’t seen any familiar faces and maybe years ago that was a bad thing, but hope spreads over Diagon Alley with strangers smiling at Christopher as he skips on the cobblestone, almost tripping over his own feet at the entrance of Flourish and Blotts. 

He runs forward to explore the store as you smile at your creation, letting him wander along the aisles as you have done years before. Being back here is like walking through a memory, and though it used to be home, you know yours is walking around in tiny bright red shoes that light up like his smile. Your fingers flip through the different quills and parchment on display, and after finding everything you need, you hear your son’s laughter in the opposite corner of the shop. Motherly instincts always prevail as your feet guide you to the sound of his voice, since he’s never been one to shy away from a friendly conversation.

“Did you find everything you were looking for, honey?”

James’ head whips up from the tiny boy he was entertaining with color-changing quills to see you, and he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose to make sure he’s seeing properly. The both of you go quiet as time stands still, with Christopher chattering at your feet. 

“Mama! Look at this one, it goes rainbow!” he says, tugging at your coat to see the quill in James’s hand. The pieces start to fit together in James’ mind, looking at your pursed lip, then to the sight of this boy smiling with the innocence he had a lifetime ago. This boy, his son, has your eyes. You shake your head rapidly as he intakes a breath of air.

“Honey?” he whispers, knowing that was his name for you.

“So what, he looks like a honey,” you say defensively, grabbing your son’s hand.

He looks like my son, his eyes say—both of you look down to the child who’s all grins and none the wiser piping up.

“My name’s Topher!” 

“Yes it is, and now it’s time to say goodbye to the nice man, okay?” Topher pouts and looks up at his father without even knowing it, handing him the quill. 

“Keep it. I’ll pay for it, and then you can write to me,” he says almost desperately, losing grip of everything that he’s been trying to convince himself for the past 7 years. 

“Don’t be weird, Potter. Don’t…” you shake your head, eyes misting over. Seeing him again brought back everything. It was already overwhelming to have a kid that’s almost the splitting image of him, to learn of a love so pure after one that’s wrecked you to your core, but being here, within arms reach… You’re 18 again and scrambling away from the corner booth trying to get away from the man you love most not wanting you in return.

“Honey, why don’t you give us a minute to talk? Go find me some cool enchanted stickers for me to bring to work tomorrow, okay?” Your baby runs off without even questioning it, his sense of adventure also inherited from his father.

“I’m…so sorry.” James moves closer to you, and you take a step back sighing humorlessly.

“For what? He’s an amazing kid. Even though… he wasn’t planned, I don’t think I could ever see my life turning out any other way.” You shift your weight to your other foot. He looks, successful, if that’s something he would be proud of. He’s wearing an impressive suit, and his eyes are a bit hardened by the past few years, but his charisma, his smile…. He’s still the boy you fell in love with all those years ago.

“I feel foolish. I was so scared to live my life and then here you are raising our child…” 

You blink softly at his words, and it reminds him of your youth, all doe-eyed and full of want. You used to want him like he still wants you. In front of him is a grown woman, a mother who’s strong and filled with memories and love that he should’ve been a part of.

“Things happen for a reason, James. We both did what we had to do.”

His hand brushes yours, and you realize you’ve been without his touch for 7 years. 7 years of being scrubbed clean of James Potter, and not a single regenerated cell in your body has been touched by him. But your son is of him, so you think that no matter how this ends, there will always be a part of you that loves James too.

You extend an olive branch to have him come to your apartment this weekend and get to talk. He knows he doesn’t deserve this kindness, but you know he deserves to meet his son.

—-

The doorbell rings and you take a deep breath as you open the front door, looking up at him holding a teddy bear for Topher.

“He’s still down for a nap. Let’s go sit in the den.” You say quietly. The hallway is filled with pictures of your boy, and of you in different stages these past few years. He stops at a portrait of your parents with Topher being swung between them.

“Your parents….”

“Were supportive; I wasn’t alone,” you muse, knowing he knows of your strained relationship with them back then.

“They actually just retired early last year. Overworked themselves and finally comfortable, so they help out when they can. What about yours?” Trying to make conversation with your ex is terribly hard, but it’s in good spirit and there’s not much to do until Topher wakes up.

“They passed, actually. Mum at the end of the war, and dad 6 months after. Never wanted to be apart, you know that.”

Your face falls at his revelation, “I’m sorry for your loss. They were amazing people. Taught me what it meant to be a parent, for sure.” Amicable silence fills the living room before you clear your throat.

“I have to be blunt, James. What do you want from this? You must be married and busy, so if Topher can’t fit into that….”

“I’m neither of those things, honey. I want to try and see where this goes,” he says scratching the back of his neck. 

Your heart stops at his endearment, catching yourself looking at him seriously. 

“You can hurt me, but I’m not letting you do that to him. Back then, you were all I ever wanted love to be. And then I had my beautiful baby, and I suddenly knew my love meant more.”

“I never wanted to hurt you. It was a mistake, because I was too proud to accept that I had it good. That what I had was meant for me.” James grabs your hands, begging for you to understand. The lost boy he was is a lifetime away from the man sitting in front of you now. Though it’s touching, you keep your heart guarded because the little boy sleeping down the hall is your biggest priority. You hope he can understand that too.

“He’s not a placeholder for your dreams of wanting a family. You have to build that, I did that myself. I’m not going to let you string him along and then once you have a family of your own, you just up and leave.” 

“I know. I was hoping the both of you could be my family, if you give me the chance.” You bite your lip as your thumb runs against his. It’s easier to forgive than to forget. But for Topher’s sake, you can try. 

“Tell me something James,” you whisper, having needed to know this for the past 7 years.

“Why did you throw it all away? Was the idea of loving me…so terrible?” He tilts your chin up, and you think that the earnest look on his face is the closure you needed to properly forgive him.

“I’ve never stopped loving you. Loving you is the best part of knowing you. Do you think I ever forgot about you?” He chuckles lowly, brushing back a strand of your hair, and you think this could be dangerous if you let yourself get too close. 

“I’ve thought about you everyday for the past 7 years, I just didn’t think I deserved you after everything I’ve done. I was so stupid, I am still. But I’m trying to be better.”

“You think of me but dreamt of her. Was it guilt?” Your hand grabs his as you move it away from your cheek, settling onto your lap. The air around you is suffocating.

“It took time for me to figure out that it was intention. Lily was a distraction. You’ve consumed me since the day I met you. My dreams, my thoughts… All of it is you. I choose to think about you as much as I can, because if I didn’t I was scared I’d forget all the good things about us back then.”

You both hear a thump from your son’s room and realize you’re wiping tears away. James stands up when you do, and both pairs of your socked feet pad closer to your son’s room. 

“We start this slow. We make decisions together, and if there’s any inkling I get that he doesn’t want this, it’s done. You understand?” Your hands are firm on the doorknob as he’s standing close behind you, hanging onto every word.

“Every word. There’s no turning back from this.” He wants to ask another question, but before he can, your hand unconsciously finds his and your grip is so comforting that he notices himself sniffle. 

“If it all goes well, and if you want, we can try again. But that’s in the far distant future, James Potter.”

“Anything you want, honey. That’s the future I’ve been dreaming of.” With you. Your lips quirk into a smile as they brush against his cheek.

Slowly opening the door to both watch your son wake up from his nap, your hand pulls James into the room behind you. Quietly, he sits on the edge of Christopher’s bed, and when his son looks up at him, you both notice the little boy beaming like the sun. 

—-

“Everything you love is very likely to be lost, but in the end, love will return in a different way.” -Franz Kafka

taglist: @jsjcue

love me some tunes! i listened to this while writing:

night shift by lucy dacus & about you by the 1975

[lavendermin]

Your Jing Yuan breeding kink hcs saved me, thank you, thank you (I too, want to be pampered and taken care of by Xianzhou Luofu's kind, handsome and strong general without having to think about paying taxes or rent)

Jing yuan breeding kink brainworms going crazy chewing on my brain cables to make me short circuit. ANON IM GOING INSANE. Just thinking about him again made me black out as I wrote this whole thing. It was supposed to be a simple short answer but well… here we are…

—

Jing Yuan, your sweet and delightful husband who discovers his breeding kink (perhaps even a pregnancy kink, the night is young and we’re all insane here). It starts off innocently and then slowly trickles into a little obsession— sexually repressed old man who is centuries old discovers kinks! Wow!

cw | smut, minors dni, breeding kink, pregnancy, just jing yuan discovering his nasty side idk what to tell you

There are a few colleagues around who are in some stage of their pregnancy and soon headed into maternity leave. Being the general, of course he has extended his congratulations and well wishes to them before they’re off for a few months. The ladies in turn cannot help but prod if he has children of his own.

Surely, it should be well-known fact… maybe? He is quite the private man despite his high ranking position. No one aside from a very few select individuals even knew of you being his wife for the longest time. Never even knew the General was dating anyone.

So they can’t help but be curious, “General you must know what it’s like. Haven’t you children of your own by now with your spouse?”

He only smiles and chuckles fondly. The first seed of want, now firmly planted in his subconscious. Oh how the expecting mothers dote on him and say his children surely must look like the spitting image of him. All fluffy, silvery hair and kind eyes (Do they assume he’s the only one making them? What about your genes?). And he has to unfortunately let them down with amused, gentle smiles that, no, he has not had children.

Yet, some part of him whispers. A part that lays dormant for now.

The seed of desire takes root when he’s home with you and you’re fussing lightheartedly over Yanqing’s attire. Worrying over the young boy being out too late and skipping lunch. He wonders when it became so natural for you to fall into step as a mother-figure for his retainer. In little things, he notes. It’s not outright but it’s enough to make him pause and take it in. Chew it and over think it— let it linger in the back of his throat like the burn from a fine drink.

A mother… The thought is fleeting— a whisper unheard and carried with the breeze as Jing Yuan idles next to you in the gardens of his home.

Those next coming nights, for weeks on end, Jing Yuan is plagued with dreams of pressing himself deep within you. He fills your womb, whispering praise and prayer to your ear as he desperately begs you to bear his children. It’s something so carnal and raw and desperate he wakes up with a start, body drenched in a sheen of sweat and a throbbing erection. He’s panting lightly, having to go to the bathroom to sort out his little… problem in the middle of the night while you’re sound asleep, none the wiser to your husband’s evolving desires.

He doesn’t know what’s more torturous— closing his eyes and dreaming of breeding you until you’re both incoherent or looking at you while you sleep, daydreaming of your soft belly rounding out as the months ago by. Hips soft and just noticeably wider, breasts plump and full, and you’re glowing and–

Aeons, he’s hard again for the 3rd time that night.

The general, respected and composed and perfect, coming undone—untouched—at the thought of you having children with him. Part of him is a little distraught but, he thinks, he just loves his wife that much.

And he’s not wrong.

When he has you gasping and begging for release under him on the rare occasion he has time to love you how he wants, it devolves into fucking you into the mattress with a wild look in his eyes. Honeyed gaze watching you plead and fall apart under him as he now practically has you folded in half, his large hands sinking into the plush of your thighs as he presses them to your chest.

Usually he opts for pulling out and finishing on your tummy, but that night it’s like the aeons are working against him (or maybe with him? Lan the wing man, who knows). You’re begging and clawing at his back as he pounds into you approaching his climax— pleading and slurring your words of please please please Yuan inside– I want– I want it inside please please hurry h-harder please!

You’re playing with the thin strand of sanity he has left. Any semblance of decorum and gentle, vanilla husband is not worth it if it’s keeping your womb empty. But Jing Yuan will spoil his wife always and foremost. If it’s what his wife wants, he won’t hold back.

[hyukascampfire]

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 ➳ 23.2k

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

warnings angst, unprotected sex, voyeurism, orgasm denial, jealousy, angst again, dubious intentions of multiple main characters... poor mc has no idea who to believe

playlists ⑊ yeonjun ˒ taehyun ˒ series

…🪶ashlynn's note this part, i put my heart and soul into! i rewrote so many parts and agonized over following the path that i most wanted the story to go down—i hope it shows! xoxoxoxo, love ya! again, this is a long one, so pls let me know about spelling mistakes :,)

← ⑊ →

You had hoped that learning of Yeonjun’s relationship with the same crowd who have made attempts on your life would be enough to rattle your brittle heart into sense. You really had. As you watch Taehyun, bent over the war strategy table, though, you wish you had more time to sort it out in your head. You hate the thought of settling on half-baked answers and information all for the fact that time is not on your side. When had time ever really been kind to you, though? It had not made exceptions when you were small and innocent in your cradle, had not slowed down to allow you to at least cherish your final moments a normal child with her human parents. You can only fantasize who you would be if you had been given just enough time to know that gentle love. Even now, time makes your choices for you.  

Taehyun looks over those metal figurines as if searching for something in them. There are more of them stood and strewn out on the map. It reminds you how you are now faced with a plethora of newer, more powerful players.  

You miss when this had been a simple spying mission—when your path forward had been unobscured and clear. You envy that version of yourself: able to believe that bad things presented themselves as such. The world had been clean-cut. Evil had jagged teeth and foul breath, and good had soft edges and sweet smiles. You’re not sure where that distinction lies anymore.  

“How’s your shoulder?” you say, making your presence known. You’re sure he had been keen to your presence from the moment you’d entered the estate, though; not only thanks to his better hearing, but also because Taehyun is constantly assessing his surroundings. The smallest insect could hardly sneak up on him. You push off the doorframe and enter the room. 

He nods his head once in greeting, but he doesn’t tear his gaze away from the table’s ensemble. “It’s doing fine.” 

Sighing, you decide not to push it. The sight of that puncture had been ghastly, and it wreaks havoc in your belly every time you replay it, but the tick in his jaw when you mention it tells you enough of how he feels about disclosing whether or not anything might hurt him. How many times in the past few weeks had you forced him to do just that? It’s no wonder that the two of you butt heads so terribly. Allowing you to stitch him up must’ve been the extent of how far he’d let you see him in need of help. 

You gesture toward the table. “Have you decided when we leave?” 

Taehyun answers you with a strained sigh out through his nose: a testament to how he’d been mulling it over. He levies those figures a few more moments of his gaze as if they might speak an answer for him. They don’t. He concedes to their lack of direction and turns to you. “Every moment we spend here, we risk our identities further,” he starts, crossing his arms over his chest.  

You wince. He still believes that you’d at least contained some of your identity by taking out those three faeries. You know better. Even the bard in that tavern had known what had happened; it’s why Yeonjun ended up finding out in the first place. Even if not all of them had been a part of that rebellion, it’s reckless to assume that there were no more than that. 

Continuing, he says, “And judging by what we’ve picked up, we need to get it all back before the solstice.” He doesn’t pace as he thinks. Only the faraway look in his eyes betray the noise in his head. 

You hate the way it sounds like he’s going to demand that you leave immediately, and you hate how it sieges your tongue and makes it dance into a pitiful ploy to stay. To give yourself some credit, it’s better that Taehyun knows every bit of information you have. This moment is desperate for informed decisions. 

“I saw Yeonjun this morning,” you blurt. The words bubbled and bubbled behind your lips until they’d found the tipping point and spilled out. You’d agonized over what to make of it all for hours: that Yeonjun had been as deceitful with you as you’d been with him, that you are a sorry human girl that had wedged her way into the cross-firings of a war much beyond yourself, that you still have the gall to consider your own feelings despite its grandness... None of that worrying had led you to a conclusion that both your heart and mind would agree on.  

Taehyun’s gaze snaps to you, contained and remote aside from the twitching at the corners of his lips. The intensity of it makes you waver, but you have no time for wavering.  

“He’s... been made aware of our purpose here. He knows that we’re spies,” you say. As you watch him try to piece that together, you add, “He’s part of their rebellion.” 

Now he laughs, barbed and full of mock and disbelief. “The prince is rebelling against his father? He thinks he’ll find the throne like that? What’s his plan for when this falls through? For when his father hears of his mutiny? The prince will lose his head.” 

The thought makes you nauseous, despite how Yeonjun’s image has grown to be something murky. You don’t know what Yeonjun’s intentions are in aligning with the rebellion here. You hardly know anything about his relationship with his father and the High Court aside from the fact that he feels suffocated by his life back there. You’d assume that there’s a lot more to his reasoning, but you’ve learned your lesson about assuming that you know who people are. The inability to lie comes with the need for secrets. The thought that perhaps Yeonjun is only making a shady attempt for power crosses your mind, but either your own reasoning or your own stubbornness shoves it down. Nobody in faerie would hand their fealty to a prince who’d taken the throne of a long-standing king by those sorts of means. He’d be a king with no denizens to preside over. 

You interject Taehyun’s parade of scoffs. “He told me that war is coming, that it’s been coming.” 

His face drops, and he straightens up. “Of course it is. It’ll begin the moment we return with what we’ve found.” 

Your lips go a bit numb, and then your fingers follow. You know that this is your duty—it’d been this all along. It should come as no shock to you that he intends to relay this all to The King. But that was before you allowed your heart to make its home here. How simply he demands that you return to those lands with information that would kill Yeonjun... it has acid crawling a path up your throat. 

You make your best effort to ensure that your voice doesn’t falter as you speak. “He offered us protection as long as we stay here,” you say. “We don’t have to leave now.” You try to catch his gaze as you add, “We don’t have to leave at all.”  

You know that Yeonjun plays a part in the rebellion, but you don’t know how deep his devotion goes, and you also don’t know to what ends you can trust his intentions. How far do his loyalties to the rebellion go? And, where do his loyalties to you stand? The thought that he may have never loved you at all... it’s been a plague to your heart and mind from the very moment he’d revealed the truth to you this morning. Your guilt has chipped away at you without mercy—you’ve spent so many awful nights wishing you could unload your deceptions in front of him. How had it ended up so trivial in the grand scheme of things? How are you the one left feeling betrayed? 

You really, really cannot imagine having Yeonjun’s blood on your hands. He is one of them—a creature deception, and yet you still cannot shake those stolen nights from your bones. He had been your first. He’d made this place a home for you, where you had never had a home. It’s pitiful to search so deeply in someone else for your own strengths; even you can see that. Nevertheless, you do it. You suppose that a pair of warm arms and sweet words will do that to someone, no matter if you know that they could rot you like sweets do the tooth. It’s not unlike drunkards who find their day’s comfort in their drinks, even as it rots their body and mind away. Anything for a stretch of belonging and bliss. You're desperate for it. 

Taehyun’s sinewy words rattle your wandering mind back to reality. “He tells you that he is a member of the same group of people that have tried multiple times to kill you, and you believe him when he says he’s going to protect you? Still?” he spits, shaking his head. “What makes you so sure that he’s not just keeping us from running? That he isn’t handing us on a platter to his rebel friends? You’re going to get us fucking killed.” 

Blood roars like frothy-white rapids in your ears, warring with the echoes of his honey-glazed exclamations of love. To some capacity, he had to have meant those words. Faeries can’t lie, and he had said it so plainly. He loves you. 

“We can’t leave yet,” you say, stepping toward him on legs that you fear might collapse beneath you. “You said it yourself; we can’t return without the whole story. If we return now, we could be missing something.” You study the frosty set to his face and suck in a stabilizing breath. “Please, Taehyun. Please trust me on this.”  

You sound desperate and pleading, but you don’t reel it in at all. You are desperate and pleading. You have no intent of returning as some successful spy and continuing a life of deception and violence. It’s not who you are; it’ll never be who you are. Maybe this world tries to ask it of you, but you refuse to concede to it. 

“Part of our job is staying alive,” he says, his body rigid. He doesn’t like where you’re going with this, you can tell that much. 

“Is that what you want? To be a pawn of war? Isn’t that what we are if we bring this information back?” you challenge. “Don’t you think that if the prince of all people has turned against him, then serving at his hand is the wrong choice? I don’t know The King—I’ve never even seen him! Why should I be excited to serve him?” 

“The prince has more reason than anybody to want his father off his throne.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you say, stepping further toward him. Though, it does make you revisit those thoughts. If vying for the crown is really Yeonjun’s intention, you suppose he’d have no problems pleading with you to stay in order to tie off loose ends. You wish you could see it all from somebody else’s untainted eyes. “What I’m saying is, do you want to be a spy? What has The King ever done for you to earn your loyalty?” 

Taehyun looks at you with disbelief, the corners of his mouth tilting down. “I don’t care about the damn king,” he snaps, and then gestures down at the table with all those figures. “The Queen operates on necessary evils. Where she can find a string to pull, she will pull it. My father was her general for a reason. Do you think she would keep him unless she approved of his violence? There is no good side to this war—just sides. If you’re suggesting that we stay here and try to forget that we came as spies, then you can forget it.” 

You glance over at the war table and wonder how you’ve become a moving piece in ancient faerie politics when all you’d set out for was a purpose. You’d been so warped by your bitterness with your upbringing that you’d failed to see how anything could be worse than that. You’d been so excited that you jumped willingly into dark water without knowing how deep it was, and now your feet can’t touch the ground. Is this the purpose you want? 

“Leave, then,” you say, stepping back. “You can leave. Just let me stay here. Please.” 

Something in Taehyun’s expression flips, so subtle that you can’t name it. It unsettles you, your hair standing on edge. There is something in his eyes that you do not like.  

“So, that’s it?” he says, his voice odd too. “That’s all it took for you to hand your future over on a leash to him?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you stammer. The only ones with a collar around your neck are the spies. They’re the ones who insisted on that geas—the ones who needed to compel you with their faerie magic to ensure your obedience.  

“It means that you got all the way here, uncovered a whole rebellion, and made a life for yourself, not handed to you by a prince, and you’re going to trade it in. It means that you’ve let him convince you that you are weak and need to be coddled.” 

Your fists curl tight and dig your nails into your palms. “I never wanted to be a spy,” you grit out. Yeonjun is not the reason you want to stay here. He may be part of it, but you’ve come to be utterly unwilling to return to that spy den like it’s your home, or something. It’s not. You’d slept there for one night. Beyond just your word and that geas, what reason do you have to return? 

“You didn’t? And yet, it’s what we are, isn’t it?” he says. “Do you think that I dreamed of being a spy? That I do it because I love it? Actions have their consequences.” 

“Then, what do you do it for, Taehyun?” you say. “When do you begin living your life for you? Doing what you do because it’s what you want?” 

Taehyun seems to consider your words for a few long heartbeats before settling into something in his head. You allow yourself to let go of some of the tension in your shoulders as you watch his expression morph into something much less poisonous. 

You hadn’t expected him to react like that. 

“Do you have any weapons on you?” he says. 

Faltering, you sputter out, “What?” You look over the room. The last time you’d been in here, you’d sparred. Does he intend to properly fight you in here now? Had you pushed him too far? Shaking your head and feeling at all the places you usually tuck your blades away, you say, “No... I don’t.” 

“Get some. Where we’re about to go...” he trails off, as if reconsidering, but then he continues, “I’ll get you a hag stone.” 

You furrow your brows, not taking off to do so. “A hag stone?” you echo, thankful that he isn’t trying to duel you, but wary at the need for such a faerie ward. Hag stones are of the more serious class of wards used to protect humans from faerie enchantment or glamour. Most often, humans would string theirs up with a bit of thread through the hole of it and wear it around their necks as a pendant. Unlike turning one’s clothes inside out or taking red berries on your person, hag stones protect against the more devastating faerie magic. You shudder simply wondering what you might need a hag stone to protect yourself from. 

He nods a bit solemnly. “Kelpie do not let a meal or trick pass them by when they wait so long to have them.” 

You look at him with wild eyes, hoping to see him laugh or play his words off as a joke. He does not, but of course he doesn’t. Taehyun doesn’t waste his words on jokes. 

“Why... Why would we be going to a kelpie?” you ask him, laughing around the ball of fright in your chest. 

He lends you a wretched look. “I have old debts to call on.” 

❆

The forest in which Taehyun leads you is untamed. At some point, the sound of nature’s buzzing tapers off, and you know that you’ve entered a deeper forest than you ought to be sticking your nose in. When the forest goes silent, it’s only for one reason.  

You’d grown up here. Maybe you’d been born elsewhere, but that does not negate the fact that you had grown up scared every day of the powerful creatures that inhabit this world. Your fear has ruled you for your whole life, and you let it. You’d be a fool not to. It’s how you survive in this world. Your limbs tremble; they plead with you to listen to everything you’ve ever known—do not mess with what is bigger than you.  

You step around frost-capped puddles and dance between briars, careful not to snag yourself on their claws. It unsettles you further that this part of the forest is so untrodden and overgrown. With no folk coming through, you fear how the kelpie might behave when you make an audience before it. Will it climb straight from its frosty swamp and drag you back down with it? Is the hag stone you clutch at your chest enough to keep you safe? 

“I don’t understand why we’re doing this, Taehyun,” you say, delicately avoiding any tumbles as you speed up to gauge his feelings by his face. You’re not fond of the remote blankness in his eyes, nor the staunch determined set to his jaw. “That thing might kill us, and your shoulder is hurt. You shouldn’t be out here; you should be letting it heal.” 

“I know my limits,” he says. 

Grimacing, you return his curt tone. “Taehyun.” You grab at the material of his sleeve with urgency. When he stops to look at you, you continue. “I want you to actually listen to me. You’re being unreasonable. Yeonjun said he’d use his pull to protect us. Both of us. We have no reason to be out here, you’re just putting us in danger.” 

He lets your words stew in the air for a moment before saying, “I’m the one putting us in danger? Me?” He scoffs. “We are about as safe dealing with a kelpie as we are living off his promises. I’m doing what’s best for us. Trust me.” 

You’re winded by his choice of words. You’ve become wary of dealing out your trust so frivolously. Those two words ring alarm bells. 

“But where is this coming from? You didn’t want to stay.” Your breath furls out in a plume of white smoke in front of your face as you speak.  

He looks as if he doesn’t want to answer that. It only makes you more apprehensive. Your limbs fill with lead, planting you where you stand. “Taehyun, I’m scared,” you say. “Isn’t finding help from a solitary faerie a bit too far? How is trusting Yeonjun any more dangerous than that?” 

Taehyun steps toward you. “He is going to kill us. It’s not if, it’s when. That bastard is going to hurt you. This... This is for us. We are self-sufficient; we don’t need his protection shit.” A bitter tang colors his words. “I know that you’re scared. I won’t let it hurt you; I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise that you’ll be okay. You want to stay, don’t you?” 

You nod. You would even make deals with a kelpie for it.  

“Okay, then, let’s go,” he says, taking off with those words, effectively punctuating the conversation.  

You follow him. 

You grow more anxious the deeper you trudge into the forest without any consolation as the daylight begins creeping away. Following behind Taehyun, the wind whips at the perfect angle so that his form takes most of its terror, allowing you a respite from at least some of the brutal cold. You don’t feel any remorse using him as a shield against the elements—frost runs through his veins. He doesn’t shiver or wince at it. 

Taehyun stops a few feet before a wintry mire framed by crystallized cattails and reeds. Your heart stutters as he looks around to ensure that this is the right spot. The water is dark and deep. You stay a healthy distance away from it. You do not want to find out just how deep it is. 

“Where is it?” you say, keeping your voice low as if the beast might lunge from the water and snatch you up if you don’t. 

Taehyun surveys the forest surrounding you and then the body of water as he always does, and when he looks to you, you already know he’s calculated and planned. He doesn’t face a situation without thought—that notion soothes you, even if it’s to the slightest degree.  

“It won’t come until I call it,” he says, gesturing at those murky and horrible watery depths. Swallowing hard, you consider how close you stand to it. You take a shuffled step back. “When you see it, you need to stay calm. Don’t let it see your fear. It’ll find it amusing and latch onto you. Do you understand?” 

A rush of heavy dread spreads from your core and seizes your lungs at his words. You’ve made it this far. You want to stay. You want to stay, bad. If this thing outsmarts you, you will not go down without swinging this time. You have your daggers, and you know how to wield them. Bravery is most of the battle, isn’t it? 

You muster a nod, trying to give yourself a brave heart, but Taehyun shakes his head. Your eyes must betray how stricken you are. “Do you understand?” he repeats, his voice sharp and grave. 

“I do.” 

He accepts your words, pressing on. “It will try to trip you over your words and spin you into a trap with tricky words. Do not entertain it, even as it tries, okay?” 

You’ve been terrorized by faerie tricks your whole life. You can handle their schemes just fine. “Okay.” 

Taehyun frees a blade from its hiding place and brings it to his palm. He slides it there, slicing it open. Crimson creeps from the slit, running in between his fingers and trickling onto the snow. He’d cut pretty deep. 

“Why are you—Taehyun?” you say, stepping toward him as he curls his wounded hand into a fist over the water, shaking it so as to let the droplets down into the black water. You regret those steps you’d made toward him as something comes crashing through the surface. 

No, rather than emerging from under the surface, the beast is born from the water, manifesting from it as something gangly and wretched. From its pointed ears to its hooves, it pushes up from nothingness until it is standing there, real and terrible before you. Its skin glistens with a thickness like oil and its hair and tail hang in heavy, seaweed-like tendrils, plastered against its body. The scum floating on top of the water clung to its hair and pelt as it rose, twigs and the like poking from its withered body. A bridle cages its head, leather reins dangling down. Of all its awful things, you believe that its eyes are the worst—bone-white and piercing, they send a terror down your spine that solidifies in your bones. You know you will not soon forget the ancient soullessness that lives there. The folk do sometimes resemble the places in which they hail from; you suppose that the kelpie bares striking resemblance to the swirling water that sits at its feet. 

You try not to choke or gasp or react in any way at all, but it isn’t easy. You focus your adrenaline on keeping your breathing as even as you can manage. 

“It has been a long time since I’ve found a human at my doorstep,” the creature says, steam blowing from its nostrils as it snorts. How long might a long time mean to a faerie, especially one you know is so ancient? You hope that your presence does not intrigue the beast at all. 

Taehyun swoops in before you can speak, and you are boundlessly thankful for it. “I’ve come to call on the debt you owe me,” he says. He doesn’t leave any room for any familiarity or playfulness. 

“Is it that time?” the kelpie says, placing one hoof down onto the snow. It had looked so incorporeal and liquid that you half expect it to burst and turn to water as it does, but it climbs out just fine. Very real.  

Taehyun eyes the kelpie as it makes land, dribbling with water and its kelp hair swinging. You swallow hard as it disregards his presence to observe you. You’re used to the folk disregarding you, not this. How many years had you yearned for their attention? Right now, you scare under it.  

“For what do you need my help, boy?” it says, voice gurgled, “And why do you bring this human along? Is it for her? Or, rather, have you brought her as your peace offering?” 

Your legs tremble beneath you.  

“I don’t owe you any peace offering, kelpie,” Taehyun says, his head held righteously high. “You’ll offer me what I ask, or you’ll suffer for it.” 

Shifting under the tense atmosphere, you still don’t speak. In Faerie, debt is law. The folk live by a law that is, like many other things about them, foreign to you. Whatever natural laws by which they govern themselves are vastly lost on you—but of keeping promises and respecting debts, you are very aware. They hate to be indebted—you’re sure it’s why this kelpie is so peevish. You hope that the folk’s need to balance their debts is enough to keep it hospitable.  

The kelpie makes a rumbling and throaty sound that mimics that of a laugh. It rumbles the ground below your feet. “Just as rigid as the last time we met like this,” it says. “I wonder if it's because you’ve inherited your father’s stone heart, or because you fear me?” 

The kelpie remains playful with its intonation, but tension lies thick and dangerous beneath both of their words. You know well enough that the beast is not being light-hearted.  

Taehyun holds his face firm. He refuses to give an inch. “Do not try that with me. You have your word to upkeep for my help.” 

Shimmering under the moon’s light now, the beast treats us with a long moment of hostile silence. You can feel its malintent despite how hollow those eyes remain.  

“What do you ask of me?” it finally says, whipping its drooping tail behind it. 

“There is a rebellion here,” starts Taehyun, shoulders relaxing to the slightest degree as the kelpie defers, “The north is uneasy. I’m optimistic that you’ll lend us your protection and hand, whenever I call on it. Regardless of it being in my interest, I’m sure that you aim to keep your lands peaceful, no?” 

“Rebellion? For what would anything of the courts be in my interest? Of their rebellion or even just their ridiculousness, I do not care. I’ve left your gentry to you, leave me to mine.” 

Taehyun’s nostrils flare. “I’m not asking you to care about the courts, I’m asking you to lend me your help when I ask of it,” he grits out, “Or, rather, I’m not asking. I am informing you that I am expecting you to uphold your debt to me, and you’d better be ready to do so. This is just courtesy.” 

You feel the kelpie’s offense in the hollow quiet that follows Taehyun’s demands. Among many things, the fae are prideful creatures. Your stomach is in terrible knots. Taehyun is just trying to regain the power in the situation. You know that. It doesn’t make you any less scared for your life. With an ancient creature like a kelpie, it is paramount to earn its respect, or else it will push you around. 

Worse than that. It will drag you down into its waters and make your soul into a meal. 

“It’s a pity you think that hag stone will save you from me, human.” The kelpie turns its attention back on you. You bade your knees not to crumple. “It takes much more than that to protect you in places like these. Perhaps you’ll be safe from petty enchantment, though.”  

Taehyun shoves his words in before you can give the kelpie any sort of reaction. Not even a tremble. “Understood?” 

“You’ve made deals with our kind before. The magic reeks on you. It’s lousy enchantment, I could dissolve that geas for you. All you’d have to do is climb up on my back, and I’d grant you your freedom.”  

You can’t help but perk up. The prospect of ridding yourself of the geas placed over you is a painfully delicious one. 

Bristling, Taehyun steps between you and the kelpie. Whether he does it to fight off the beast should it lunge at you or to prevent you from approaching it, you’re unsure. “Do not,” he says. 

“Wasn’t going to.” You say it, and of course it’s true. The kelpie is poking around to see what will most entice you. Regardless, you can’t deny how awfully you wish that geas were gone. It’s the one thing that you fear will tether you to The King’s bidding. No matter how you armor yourselves from the rebellion here in the north, what’s to stop the spies from tugging on the enchanted leash? One command from Cricket, and your body would betray you and walk the whole way there itself. 

Though you don’t verbalize your interest, the kelpie no doubt sees the interest alight in your eyes. It pounces accordingly. “Unless you’d prefer that I give you a whole other enchantment. Protection against any of our kind’s glamours? Permanant true sight? A touch to my pelt would be all it would take for you to make yourself free.” 

Taehyun clicks just the hilt of his sword free from the sheathe. “Stop with the tricks. You can find your fun elsewhere.” 

Like the swampish water behind it, the kelpie stands there totally still, studying Taehyun. You really wish this altercation could wrap up at any pace faster than it currently is. You’re itching to escape those white eyes. They’re much more intimidating as night settles in. What sort of thing had Taehyun even done to indebt a creature like this to him? Once again, you’re left confronting how little you know of him and his past. By the time you’ve come to terms with the last thing, the next arrives to remind you that the folk lead much longer lives than you do. 

It finally speaks again. “Why have you brought this human with you, Lord?” Its furls out the term like a weapon. This bitter intonation that you’ve seen be used multiple times to speak of Taehyun’s title sticks with you. The title is a taunt. In this case, the you know it comes from the kelpie’s place of utter indifference and lack of obeisances toward whatever sovereignty the Courts may claim. The kelpie only answers to the land.  

“Because I needed you to know that your protection will extend to her. Know her face, learn it so that when I call on you, you’ll play your part correctly.” 

“I fail to see why you dote over her safety. Who is the human to you?” The kelpie takes a step forward, its powerful muscles rippling with the moon’s white light on its ink pelt. You mirror it with a step back. Taehyun stays put. “I owe her no help. That’s not how this works. I concede that I am bound to your help, but I do not repay double. You overestimate my generosity.” 

You watch as Taehyun takes on a posture that you’ve come to recognize as his offensive posture, potent adrenaline twisting up your stomach and sending your heart into a fit so fierce that you feel it in all your pulse points. You’re sure that swords are a laughable matter to the kelpie. Iron, though, you’re sure would still burn. Turning your hands to fists, you make a conscious effort not to find your iron weapons. If the kelpie were to see that, it may escalate things. You do not want to escalate.  

It’s only smart for you to consider your disadvantages: Taehyun is wounded. He had literally been struck by an arrow last night. You’re so far into the woods that running would consist of stumbling over roots and avoiding thorny bushes. Taehyun might know them, but you’re fully unfamiliar with a kelpie’s weaknesses, or if they even have any at all. You’re better off appeasing the beast.  

“Taehyun,” you warn. 

He pays it no mind. “I said,” he snarls, “stop with the tricks. You owe your very ability to draw breath to me, and beyond that. It was my neck on the line to grant you that. What I did for you was worth many debts. If you want to settle it all to even, you’ll do it. Don’t play this like a fool.” He doesn’t address the kelpie’s first question. 

Taehyun creeps toward the kelpie. You’re not sure where he sources all that fearlessness from inside himself. He’s way too close for your comfort. “What are you doing?” you hiss, quiet and meant for just him. There is no way he intends to fight this thing right now. You’d prefer taking the risk of trusting Yeonjun’s word over this any day. 

“Even the general”—the kelpie spits that word with a similar distaste as he had Taehyun’s title—“knew when he was in over his head. Ask a more respectable payment of me.” 

You suck in a breath. “Let’s just go,” you tell Taehyun. “We don’t need to do this; we didn’t need to in the first place.”  

As Taehyun takes one last step toward the kelpie, he reaches a sword’s distance from it.  

Really? Is this happening right now? 

“I’m giving you grace right now, kelpie,” he says, his voice pure warning, “My father is the one who landed you like that. It’s humorous that you’d even speak of him while we’re sorting out the debts that you incurred because of him. I suggest that you give up the sly act.” 

Once again, a charged and meaningful pause rings throughout the forest. The silence speaks volumes of how the kelpie takes his words.  

It’s a flash of movement, the two dark figures like blurs as Taehyun’s hand flies out to grab a hold of the reins that hang from its head and the kelpie rears back with a bone-piercing, harrowing whinny. He braces himself on its side and uses its flank to push off of. The creature bucks fast, but Taehyun is faster.  

The rage that it bellows with guts you. The forest ground trembles with its frantic clambering, hooves battering the snow.  

The kelpie’s frenzy ends as Taehyun takes the reins in both hands. It doesn’t make any more attempts to send him off, nor does it stumble about wildly. It settles. The kelpie bows its head. Your hands cover your mouth. They’re ready to muffle your scream. You wait for Taehyun to become one with the beast’s figure and for it to drag him down to the depths of its water that don’t see the sun’s light. Nothing happens. Instead, he slips off the back of the kelpie without any trouble, landing with a thud back on the ground.  

“Fix your appearance,” Taehyun commands.  

You allow a sound of surprise to slip as the beast melts down, shedding water to the ground and crumpling over. You watch it shrink all the way down until, where once the gangly beast had stood, the form of a faerie man stands. He unfurls from the forest floor to his full height, taller than Taehyun and reedy in his limbs. His hair cascades down from his head in shaggy, damp brown locks with twigs and leaves tangled in. Sharp faerie ears protrude from it. It confirms to you that this is just another form of the kelpie, not someone else entirely. 

“You’re a fool,” the man says, turning on Taehyun with wild eyes.  

You join his confrontation on Taehyun. “What the hell is going on?” you say. You’re still jittery with the urge to run. 

Taehyun entertains only you, saying, “I hoped that he’d just make things easy in the first place.” 

The man, dripping with water from his tattered, sopping rags for clothes, sneers. “I would not serve you if you fucking killed me. Of course you had to take my bridle.” 

You give Taehyun an expectant look. You’re in dire need of being filled in. 

“His bridle,” he says, grabbing the reins that still hang from the man’s face even in his human form and tugging him into a walk into the forest, “I grabbed it. He serves me, now. He can hate it all he wants, but he’ll do what I ask.” 

The thought makes you deeply uncomfortable, but you can’t pin exactly why. It lives somewhere around the place inside you that loathed the way the folk made your kind into their glamoured servants.  

“We’re just going to bring him back with us?” You trail them tentatively back through the woods that you had arrived from. “Like a prisoner, or something?” 

“Exactly like a prisoner,” the man says, excited to get a hit in on Taehyun. Of course, he’s unhappy.  

He stumbles as Taehyun tugs him forward by his bridle. “Shut your mouth,” Taehyun says. It’s more commanding than angry. “What’s your name?” he asks him.  

The man looks as though he wants to deny him that knowledge. Names are a powerful thing to a faerie. They spend their lives hiding them away—to give away their real name would make them totally vulnerable to the whims of whoever knows and uses it. However, you assume that whatever hold Taehyun has over him now works in a similar way, and his lips move despite his revolt.  

“Beomgyu,” he answers, eyes full of bite. 

You climb between a pair of close-resting, gnarled trees. “Does he have to keep that thing on, Taehyun?” you say, struggling with the sight of him being dragged along. It’s unsettling. “Like, does it work without that?” 

Stopping, Taehyun reaches up to pull the bridle off and around from Beomgyu’s head. He lets it fall to the snow. “You can use his name if you need to command him and I’m not around. He’ll have to do what you say.” Pushing Beomgyu into a walk, he says, “You’re going to protect us if in any case we need it. That includes her. You’re going to stay within my estate, unless one of us brings you somewhere. You won’t try your hand at any escape, and you won’t make any attempts to harm us either directly or by omitting something you are aware will do so.” 

You rub your hands together to generate heat as he lists his commands. Why would he even need those precautions, if Beomgyu is supposed to be his compulsory servant now? Would that not mean that he’d be unable to harm him? Either Taehyun is being extra precautious, or the command he has over him is weaker than you had thought at first. Beomgyu scowls the whole way through. Perhaps if Taehyun had not spoken those exact words, he would have lunged at him. 

As the kelpie stalls, Taehyun urges him forward once again with a shove. “Walk,” he snaps. “You did this to yourself. If you’d been a respectable man, I’d have only asked for your help when we needed. Now, you’re following us everywhere.” He allows him to stew on that for a little before saying, “You do your job well and I’ll let you return to your waters. I’ll forget I even made you my servant, and you’ll live knowing you’re no longer in my debt. You’ll not have to worry that someone might tame you again, because I already had, and I won’t even utilize it. We’ll never even make each other’s acquaintance again. You’ll be free to toil in your forest, and I will stay far away. All I need is for you to keep us alive and unharmed.” 

At least he doesn’t intend to keep him forever as an eternal servant. Most faeries that fall into debts work their long lives as living servants. Your years as Nut-hatch's worker taught you how that life whittles your soul down. Hundreds of years of just that is unfathomable. Maybe that is the cost of betraying honor here, though.

“So be it,” Beomgyu says, teeth gritted.  

You continue to trudge through the forest behind them. 

❆

Once you’re within the walls of the estate and Beomgyu is given a place to stay, you turn to Taehyun. “What part of that was safer than trusting Yeonjun?” you say.  

His eyes drop closed and he sighs. “It was worlds safer,” he grits out. “I knew what I was doing. You had that hag stone, and I’d have cut him down if he tried anything.” 

He stretches out his shoulders, shifting them uncomfortably under the fabric of his tunic. You know that his sewn-up wound bothers him. Could it be getting infected? You hope not—an infection this early on would most definitely mean it would be a nasty one. If only he weren’t insistent on pretending that it’s nothing. “I don’t think you could”—you gesture at your own shoulder—“you’re going to infect your shoulder. I don’t know how to treat an infected wound that big.” 

“I wouldn’t have even gone there if I thought I couldn’t handle it. I had a plan. I can protect us just fine.” 

Us. You’ve been wondering what your purpose here might become once you abandon returning to your duties. Would you be staying with Yeonjun? If he betrays you, and Taehyun were to push you out now that you’re no longer partners in duty, where would you go? Crawl to the doorstep of some random faerie to place yourself in their services, just to find yourself a warm place to stay? Taehyun now makes it clear that he still sees the two of you as a pair, but why? You still can’t understand why he’d suddenly switched up the moment you said you’d stay here even if he left. Realistically, he should’ve killed you for being a traitor to the king that he serves. You know that his intentions are more complex than that, but you fail to grasp where they lie. His actions and his words clash.  

“And when Yeonjun doesn’t betray us? What will all of this be for?” 

“This doesn’t stop at the prince,” he says, “there are more players than just him and The Queen. Any one of them could determine that we’re liabilities. Don’t you think that we should prepare for that? We came here as spies infiltrating their court from the very king that they rebel against; of course they’ll have plans for us. It’s still best that you stay your distance from the prince from this point on, regardless, unless you bring the kelpie.” 

Your mouth drops open, brows pinching. You don’t like the thought of being chaperoned at all. If Yeonjun is to betray you, then it’ll be your own fault. You can take the consequences of your actions just fine. “I think I can make that decision for myself,” you say, voice low. “And I can protect myself, too. Are you saying my skills aren’t up to your standards? Well, I didn’t spend that time working on them for nothing, and I don’t plan on stopping. I know I’m not perfect, but I think I can at least use a dagger adequately.” 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Taehyun says, eyes flat with frustration. “You can protect yourself well. I know that. What I mean is that you shouldn’t rest your life on his integrity. I have no doubts that you’d be able to protect yourself from him alone. He’s delicate. The King doesn’t pamper his children, but I have no doubt that the prince hasn’t wielded a sword anywhere other than in sparring. But you don’t know if you’ll ever truly be alone, and you don’t know whether or not he’s setting you up. I think you can at least agree that it’s best that you can acknowledge that and behave accordingly, no?” 

“I rested my life on your integrity today. Am I supposed to trust you blindly, too? What if you’re just stringing me along until you kill me for my treason to The King? You were his spy, no? How many years did you serve him? Why have you given it up so easily? Why are you staying here? None of it makes sense to me, but I still trusted you. Was I wrong for that? Are you a liar, Taehyun? Does your tongue tell lies?” 

His eyes crystallize, a few degrees colder than you’d seen them all day. “I can lie,” he says. “But would I have done what I did today if I intended to kill you? It’s time that you see that actions tell you so much more than words ever will.” 

Again, he treads around your questions about his intentions. “Why are you staying here?” you repeat, studying him with your suspicion.  

He’s quiet. 

“Answer me,” you demand. 

“Is this not my home?” he says. 

Unsatisfied, you press more. “I thought you hated this place. Why would you want to stay here? Don’t you have an awful reputation here?” 

His eyebrows shoot up, but his face stays hauntingly blank. You’re used to his blank mask, but this feels different. “If you think that I left here because of my reputation, then you’ve fooled yourself.” He begins making for his quarters. “I have obligations to fulfilling my father’s role as Lord of this estate,” he says before turning and ending the conversation on his terms. 

That leaves you just as confused. If he cared about his responsibilities here, he would’ve never left them in the first place to become a spy under The King. It makes no sense. Whether or not it’s true, you’re positive that you aren’t getting the whole story. You sigh and drag your feet bed-bound. You hope to never have another day as unending as today again. 

❆

You dodge Beomgyu for the entirety of the day, not sure what to make of a new presence around the estate, even if it’s an indebted servant beast of a presence. You’d half expected Taehyun to rope him up in the horse stalls outside, making that his permanent residence, but he’d given Beomgyu a place somewhere in the servant’s quarters. You’re glad of it—you may be wary of him, but you don’t wish anything like that for him. Now that he has a more human form, you find yourself able to empathize with him more than you were when he was a hulking, killer water horse. He doesn’t necessarily run around much—without a doubt because he’s not the happiest about being forced into Taehyun’s servitude. You don’t blame him. 

Despite your efforts, he enters the kitchens while you’re alternating between chomping on a slice of bread and a platter of dates. He eyes you. Though in this form his eyes are not as piercing, they’re still heavy.  

You offer him a slice of the bread and push the platter toward him. “Hungry?” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t eat the way you do.” 

Then why’d he come to the kitchens? Either he’s exploring, or he came looking for you. “Not even like this?” you ask, gesturing down to his form. 

“I eat when someone is foolish enough to come to my waters,” he says. “I thought I’d be eating yesterday, but the Lord subverted those plans, didn’t he?” 

You laugh a bit, though it’s absurd to laugh about being eaten with the same creature that had intended to do so.  

“I sometimes go for more years than the entire span of your human life without eating,” he says, tilting his head to one side. Shaggy locks of hair follow his head with it. It’s unkempt and in dire need of a washing to rid it of dirt. 

You gesture at his dirt-smudged cheek. “Do you want to clean up? I’m sure Taehyun has some clothes to spare for you. There are some pretty nice bathing quarters, here, too. The kind that makes you reluctant to get out.” 

A wry smile cracks across his face, a bit feral like the rest of him. “I’m not afraid of some dirt. These are my clothes. I’d go naked before dressing myself in his.” 

“Okay, then,” you snort, shrugging. “No baths.” You rip a bite out of the wrinkled fruit in your hand. “How did you even end up... in debt to Taehyun?” you ask, eager to fill yourself in. If Taehyun insists on not telling you anything, you’ll find it in other places. You’d picked up that it had something to do with his father, but you need to know more. The more you’re able to piece together, the better you’ll be able to make sense of Taehyun’s behaviors. You hope so, at least. He holds is truths very close to himself, and almost everybody else seems to harbor a poignant distaste for him. 

Beomgyu’s face sours up again. “I had a dispute with his father. The General was going to raze my forest and kill each one of us. I’d called on him and asked for his help. I’m not sure what he did, but The General never came. If I knew it’d land me like this, though...” He grimaces. “I’d have just let him make me history.” 

Reigning in the laugh that bubbles in your chest at his resentment, because you’re positive that you finding humor in his misfortunes would ruffle him, you nod and pocket that information. “Then, why didn’t you just agree to help when he tried to collect your debt in the first place?” 

“I was going to,” he snaps. “He’s just a prideful creature. No patience. If he’d waited a few moments, I’d have agreed.” 

Humming, you don’t tell him that he’s definitely the one who wound himself up like this. Taehyun had made it clear multiple times that Beomgyu needed to stop playing around.  

Taehyun’s voice comes from the doorway, cutting into the conversation with its matter-of-factness. “Speaking bad on my name while I’m away, kelpie? Should I amend your list of commands to include watch your mouth?” His tone is bare and humorless. 

Beomgyu bristles beside you, about to rebut him before you spy the weapon at Taehyun’s hip and interrupt before they can come to verbal blows. “Where are you going?” 

Taehyun rips his icy gaze from Beomgyu to you. “To Court,” he answers, plain and as if it were obvious. 

Furrowing your brows, you say, “Court? Why didn’t you tell me we’re going? I don’t want to get ready in a rush.” Your mind turns. You weren’t even sure what you’d be doing now that you’re no longer here as spies. There’s no need to infiltrate Court, now. Would you just be attending as revelers? Not to mention that Yeonjun no doubt has no clue that you’re even staying. You hadn’t seen him since you’d ran to him yesterday morning and had your world thrown for a loop as he revealed his truth. How had so much happened in one day?  

His mouth hardens. “You’re not attending with me,” he says, knuckles turning white over the pommel of his sword. “You’ll stay here with him today.” 

Your heart thrums in your chest; not with fear like it had been doing so much over the span of the last few days, but with anger. “What?” you say, shock straining your voice. “No. I’m getting ready; wait for me, or don’t. I don’t care.” You spin on your heels to do just that, gritting your teeth. He thinks he can tell you what to do? Is that it? You don’t care what he’s done for you, or what power he thinks he has over you because of it. You’d left your life of taking commands behind for a reason. This was supposed to be new beginnings, not just your past life under a new skin. 

He catches your upper arm frantically. Whipping your head to him, you rip yourself away from him and back off. “I said, no,” you grit out, lips twitching into a heavily emotional scowl. It’s not just that he’s telling you to stay back today: you know that what he’s doing is much bigger than that. It sends memories of a life in a seamstress’ cottage flooding back. You struggle to keep your head afloat, to keep yourself from drowning in it, but they’re old and deep wounds. 

“Oh, look at that,” Beomgyu croons. “You are just like him. Except, your father was a general, so at least he had some reason to believe that folk would obey him. You? Not so much.” 

Taehyun’s head snaps to him. He barks a command. “Leave.” 

His eyes flash and he reels against it, but Beomgyu’s body moves against his own will. There’s a spark of ravenous hate smeared across his lips and in the glare he gives Taehyun as he leaves. 

“So, you’re just going to hand out commands and expect them to be followed now, huh? Because you’re suddenly just... taking up this role as Lord? Well, you’re not my Lord. You’re not his, either.” 

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Stop that.” 

Laughing a bitter laugh, you spit, “Stop what? Oh, I’m sorry. I should just obey you like a good human does, huh? ‘Cause that’s what we’re for, right? My bad, I’ll get a head start on working around the estate—what would you like for dinner, my lord? Or, do you need me to press your clothes? Go ahead and place your glamour over me, so at least then I won’t have to serve you consciously.” Your words are angry, but you choke toward the end around the lump of emotion in the back of your throat. 

He takes both your arms into his hands, his brow furrowed hard. “Stop it,” he snarls. “Stop it, damn it. Don’t do that. You’re not a servant here. Don’t you try to cry to me, I expect better than this from you. That’s not it at all.” 

You shove back on his chest, putting some distance between you. “I’m not crying,” you say. “And, so what if I was? There’s nothing wrong with it. Really, I think it’d do you a little good to cry some time.” 

“It’s weak,” he says. “Pitying yourself just ends up making you into a fool. If you just sit around and wallow, you’ll stay where you are. The only thing you can do is act.”  

That sounds about right coming from his lips. “Is that what your father taught you?” you ask. “Well, he was wrong. You can cry and try and take care of things at the same time. Crying is not the weaker emotion.” 

“I’m just asking you to stay back today,” he says. 

“Why?” you say, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “Tell me why? It’s not like we’re spying around or have some sort of mission to keep secret. Why can’t I just go enjoy it like that for once?” 

“Can you just do this for me?” Taehyun says, jaw tight. “I just need you to stay.” 

You’ve become sick of him not telling you things. Being in the dark never feels good, but it especially feels like shaky ground now. If he thinks you’ll be attacked, so what? You’re the one who wanted to stay here. Let you come. You’re better off being attacked as a group of three than he would be by himself, no? 

You decide to lean into his own concerns to appeal. “What if they’re waiting for you? Wouldn’t it be better that Beomgyu and I are there? Isn’t that why you did that whole thing yesterday?” 

He shakes his head. “If they are, then it’ll be easier for me to slip out if it’s just me.” 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you determine by the solemn lines to his face that he’s not going to give. “Fine,” you say. “I’ll stay here today. If it’s so necessary, I’ll stay here. Do you want me to stay inside the estate, too? Could I go see Yeonjun?” 

“I’d prefer that you stay here,” he says, slow and measured and veiling tension. 

You shake your head, pairing it with a tired laugh. “Yeah, right, I forgot. He’s a threat too. Well, you have fun then.” Turning and departing from the kitchens, you leave behind your bread and dates. So much for lunch. 

❆

Reaffirming Taehyun’s ability to lie, it was not just that one day. The next day, Taehyun slipped out for Court, sword on hip and pleading with you to stay in the estate on the terms that he believes they still might have an attack planned for you. It turned into a week that you were cooped up in the estate, and then two. The same walls you’d once looked at in wonder for their beauty became the ones you stared at mindlessly during the most boring of hours. 

You spend most of your time listening to Beomgyu drone on and on about the ways he’d tricked faeries and humans. He’s quite odd, but it’s not like you can blame him for it—most of the folk are odd to you, and he’s an ancient beast among them. You feel like that warrants a spunky personality like his. He’s nice company, anyway. Such a long life lends you an impressive wealth of stories. 

You can’t help but think about Yeonjun. He’s got to have seen Taehyun at Court by now. If there haven’t been any incidents at this point, doesn’t that mean that he doesn’t intend to betray you? The images of him thinking that you’re avoiding him makes you want to slip out to see him. You not sure why you don’t. Maybe the lies that sat between you affect you more than you thought they did. You’re quite the hypocrite, though. You’d kept secrets just as much as he had. 

You miss those stolen nights you two had shared. A knot, queasy and pessimistic, sits in your belly each time you lay in your bed and remember them and tells you that you’ll never see anything like that again. You’d allowed a girlish part of you to blossom beside him—a part of you that could throw caution to the wind and melt into the fun things in life.  

As you rot your days away in that estate that has become more like a dungeon than an estate, you allow yourself to miss him only a little. Once it begins transforming into a certain impending doom about how you’d thought that staying here would be everything you’d ever wanted, you find something else to do. If you aren’t toiling around by yourself or listening to Beomgyu drone, you’re practicing your combat skills. The times that Taehyun stops in to help you, it ends with you insisting that you’re fine to make appearances in Court by now, or at least see Yeonjun with Beomgyu in attendance. He never agrees. Each time, it’s the same awful excuse: Tensions are worse. He doesn’t know if they’re planning something. When you ask why he demands that he can attend, but you and Beomgyu can’t join: He’s a lord. It’s his duty to attend Court. 

The solstice is nearing, too. You’d looked forward to it, honestly. Hopefully Taehyun will let you attend by then. 

You sit crisscrossed on the hardwood flooring, running your fingers through your hair. Beomgyu is stood a couple feet away, and makes big gestures as he explains the one time he’d been called to attend Court as a solitary faerie. Moments like this have kept you grounded over the weeks. 

“And the stupid crone tried to say that I was wrong for catching him,” he exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head as if the ancient memory were still as fresh as day one.  

You laugh. “What did you even do to end up there, anyway?” you ask. You can hardly picture Beomgyu in the setting of Court, even more so meeting with The Queen and her council. Moreover, you’re intrigued to know what he’d said to talk himself out of trouble. You’re amazed that he managed to make a sufficient enough case to save his life. 

“They said that I’d been taking too many of their folk—hah! I must eat too, you know? Oh, the pretention! Do they expect me to starve? If a fool lands themselves on my pelt and then in my waters, it’s only natural that they’re eaten. I’m simply freeing them from one more mud-brained fool. The Courts are full of those, too. It’d take me a millennium to eat them all. What are they so worried for, I wonder? They do the very same to their own people.” 

“Aren’t they ridiculous?” you say. Like you, he’d been an outsider in Court. Though you’re sure that it’s just as, if not more, intricate to those well-versed in it, to the ones like you two... It’s odd to see. You had grown used to it in the time you spent there, but you still know what the first day had felt like. Anyway, you hadn’t spent as many days there as you feel you had. All that had happened had bloated that time in your memories. “To be quite honest with you, your kind are all so odd to me. I grew up among you, but still... my instincts are always kinda at odds with my surroundings, you know?” 

Beomgyu considers that for a moment, as if trying to view the fae from a human’s eyes. “Even when we look so similar?” he asks you, grabbing at a lock of his hair and making a round gesture over himself. 

You nod. “Even in this form, you just... I don’t feel like I’m looking into the face of another human. Maybe that’s because I watched you turn to this from a horse, though.” 

“A kelpie,” he corrects. “What gives it away?” 

“Sorry, a kelpie,” you snicker. You look over his face. It’s so close to right, but somewhere in your mind you can decipher that something is not right. Like all of the fae, though, there’s an unspeakable beauty there, beyond explanation. It demands your human attention. Even the most terrifying are beautiful. “Well, for starters, your ears. They’re pointy. All of you have that, and none of us do. And then... I guess”—you narrow your eyes—“your eyes? They’re just different. And your limbs are pretty lanky, too.” 

He frowns as if he’s unable to see it. “You don’t sound so sure,” he says, joining you on the floor. “I’ve had quite some time to look at myself in my life. I don’t think I ever saw any of that when I was in this form...” 

“I’m sure you did,” you say, lips turning up in a playful mock. A water creature no doubt has an eternity to stare into the water at themselves in its rippled reflection. “Did you do a lot of that?” 

Scowling, he huffs. “No. But I’m sure you would, if you looked like this, huh?” 

You roll your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” His face morphs from dismay to careful concentration. Frowning, you look around and ask, “What?” 

“I hear somebody,” he answers, pushing off the floor. 

Your spine tingles, but you search for the logical explanation. “Like... Taehyun?” 

“No... the walk is definitely different.” He strains to listen. “He’s usually pretty quiet. This one... they don’t conceal their footsteps.” 

Neither of you can get to a window to scope anything out before there’s three heavy knocks from the door, the metal knocker ringing. You shoot him a wary look and tilt your head toward the door. You mouth the word, answer? 

He considers for a moment and then nods. Well, he’s the one able to hear their approach. You trust they’re at least not imminent danger. You pull the door open. A breeze of frost comes rushing in as you do, blowing your hair and as jarring as a hit to the face might be. You’ve been cooped up in here for so long you’ve forgotten how bitter the cold here is.  

Behind the door your eyes lock with a pair of inky ones, settled into a pinched and snooty face. “Letters from the palace I have for you, my lady,” she says, her voice mousy. She holds out a stack full of letters to you, all held together by some twine. 

An errand runner. You furrow your brows down at her and accept them. The little hob wrings out her long fingers. “From who?” you ask her.  

She bows her head to you hurriedly. “Oh, from the prince, my lady! He sends these for you!” 

You look down at the stack in your hands, and your heart begins to run amok in your chest. He’d sent to you? You thank her. She scurries off in the snow and you close the door, sharing a look with Beomgyu. 

“The prince?” he says, brows shot up. “Meaning, The King’s son? He’s sent letters for you?” 

Nodding, you hold the stack close to you. Your feet ache to find your quarters and to begin tearing into each one; you’re ravenous for any sort of word from him. Does he hate you? Does he miss you? At least he still thinks of you. You’d worried that he might’ve found another lady of the court to dote on in your absence... 

“Yeah,” you say over your shoulder, more interested in tearing the letters open than explaining to him why the prince would be sending you letters. Curiosity sits in his furrowed brow. You hadn’t exactly prattled on about Yeonjun to him. Had you even mentioned him at all? 

He tags along as you head to your room and plop onto your bed. You don’t tell him to leave you; opening these letters alone... You appreciate his presence in some odd way.  

Unstringing the pile, you pull the first one out and run a thumb over the wax seal that identifies it as definitely from the High Prince—a fine silver dusted over white wax and branded with the image of Yeonjun’s insignia, the fox. It’s uneven and dribbled, clearly sealed by Yeonjun himself with the insignia ring he often wears on his finger. You pry it open and then unfurl the parchment inside. 

𝒟𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝒹 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝐶𝑜𝓊𝑟𝑡? 𝑃𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑝𝓈 𝑤𝑒 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑚𝒾𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝒾𝓈 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒. 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒. 𝐼𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝓈 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝓈𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘. 𝑀𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟𝓈 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝓊.  

𝒯ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝓈 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛.

𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑛𝒿𝑢𝑛

Beomgyu’s gaze burns holes through you as you read this first one. You sigh, pressing your lips into a thin line as you reach for the next one. This one twists a hot knife of guilt into your belly and up into your heart. 

𝐻𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔?   

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙'𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝓃𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑡, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝐼 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝓇 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝓈𝑖𝑑𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠, 𝓎𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝓇 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒. 𝐼'𝑚 𝑢𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝓈 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒. 𝐴𝑙𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ, 𝑝𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑝𝓈 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝓎𝑜𝑢𝓇 𝑎𝑏𝓈𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑖𝓈𝑒.

𝐼𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝒾𝑑𝑒𝓃𝑡𝒾𝑡𝓎? 𝐼𝑠 𝒾𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝑢? 

𝐴𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝓊𝑡𝑚𝑜𝓈𝑡 𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟: 𝐼 𝒹𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡. 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑡 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝓊𝑙𝑑 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑. 𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝓇𝑒 𝓆𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝒶𝑟𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑒𝓇.   

𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝐼 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑟𝒾𝒹𝑖𝑐𝓊𝑙𝑜𝑢𝓈, 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔. 𝐼 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡. 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝒶𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑏𝓇𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝓇𝑡, 𝑟𝒾𝑔ℎ𝑡? 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑡. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑢𝓈.  

𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝒾𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝓎 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝑠𝑜 𝑒𝒶𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝒾𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝓈𝑡. 𝐼 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝓈, 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑖𝑡.

𝒟𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝓇 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝒾𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝓉 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝓇 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝓈 𝑚𝑒𝑡, 𝑡𝑜𝑜? 𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑜𝒹𝑑 𝑖𝑠 𝒾𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝓈𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝒾𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝓎𝑜𝑢, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝓈𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝓇 𝑏𝑒𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝓎𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝓊𝑟𝓈𝑒?

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝒶𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑒, 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝓉𝑦. 𝐼𝑓 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝑢𝓇 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒, 𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝓈𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝓉 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝑘𝒶𝑦. 

𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑛𝒿𝑢𝑛

“What do they say?” Beomgyu asks, timbred voice whipping you from the words that had settled a quaking ache in your chest.  

You’re not entirely sure how to tell him that they’re desperate letters of the High Prince’s love for you, a worthless human girl that had avoided him on purpose. He probably wouldn't believe you, anyway. Leaving behind your old life, you had pleaded with the sky to make your life something worth note. It seems that it had answered. Fate works in odd ways like that, granting your wishes in the last way you might expect.  

“A lot,” you say, brushing him off. Your voice cracks with it, though,  

Hearing the veiled emotion, he frowns, inching forward to take a peek. “Why are you upset?” he pries, and then gasps as a thought formulates in his head. “Have they called you to be tried by the council?” He considers his own suggestion for a long moment and then shakes his head. “You hardly have gone anywhere enough to cause that degree of trouble, though.”  

You let your face drop into your hands. Is the tremor in your chest from laughter, or from crying? You couldn’t say. Maybe it’s both. 

The kelpie makes an unsure sound, clearing his throat. “I... uh, I jest...” 

Collecting yourself, you say, “No. I’m not being called in for trial.”  

Dried up rose petals come fluttering out with the next letter. The flower of love. 

𝐻𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝓉 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝓇𝑡ℎ? 𝐶𝑜𝓊𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑜𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝓈𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝓈𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑡 𝓎𝑜𝑢𝓇 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝓈𝑜? 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑐, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝓎 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒𝓈𝑜𝑚𝑒. 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤𝑒'𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒. 𝐻𝑎𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝓎𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝓈𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒?

𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝓈𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝓇𝑒𝑠𝑖𝒹𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝒾𝑠 𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒶𝑡𝑒, 𝐼 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼'𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝓊𝑟𝑒 𝒾𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦'𝑙𝑙 𝓇𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝓎𝑜𝑢, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑜, 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼'𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝓎𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔?

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝓈𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝑚𝑒. 𝐼 𝑏𝑒𝑔. 𝐿𝑒𝑡'𝑠 𝓉𝑎𝑙𝑘. 𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝓈𝑡 𝑤𝒶𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑤𝓇𝑜𝑛𝑔. 

𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑛𝒿𝑢𝑛

Why hadn’t you at least gone and told him that you’ve stayed? How had you allowed yourself to feel fear when you think of him? You don’t deserve his love. You don’t even know if you deserve love at all. All it would’ve taken was one night of slipping out. He deserved to know that you’re okay. You don’t remember being this selfish. When had it happened? Maybe selfish is what becomes of you when you’ve wasted a lifetime expected to serve others before yourself and then are granted the freedom to consider yourself first. You don’t want to be selfish, though.  

The one you pull open now is more raw. Hurt. The paper, scrawled in writing that becomes less elegant and more frenzied as you read down it, crumples in your hand. 

𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝐼'𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝒶𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑙𝓎 𝑓𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒'𝑣𝑒 𝓈ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑, 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡. 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝓊. 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝓈𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝒶𝑟𝑚𝓈. 𝒯ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝓇 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑤𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑡.   

𝐷𝑜 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝓈𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝓇𝑒?   

𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝓊, 𝑑𝒶𝓇𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑚𝒶𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝓈𝑖𝑐𝑘  

𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑛𝒿𝑢𝑛

You stuff the letters back in their envelopes and shove them into a box in your wardrobe. If you don’t, you’ll read them over until you’re ill. Once over was enough for you. 

❆

“The Lord would have my pelt if I let you leave,” Beomgyu, crossing his arms firmly over his chest, says. “Let alone by yourself.” Realizing that his words insinuate that Taehyun holds any true power over him, he backtracks. “If it weren’t for the harness, I’d be unconcerned with his anger, but... Of course, you know, I’m obligated by my imposition to his word, so...” 

Tugging your boots on, you say, “So, tell him I commanded you to stay. You’ll be fine.”  

You had waited for Taehyun to leave for Court, anyway. You have hours of the night to sly-foot your way around him. 

You’d moped around for a few more days, your gut heavy with stones each time you remember Yeonjun’s letters. Stuffing them into a box, no matter how deep into the corner of your wardrobe, still could not wipe those words from your mind. You’d turned them over and over until you couldn’t handle imagining him writing those letters with a hopeful heart any longer.  

The solstice is only a few days away now, too. You’d been bound to the estate for weeks. Although you’re unsure what Taehyun’s real intentions are in boarding you in, you can no longer even care if leaving will end up getting you attacked. You’ve become a bird with clipped wings.  

Even if your wings are out of order, you’ll walk your way to your freedom. Hell, you’d crawl there. It just so happens that Yeonjun’s doorway feels like freedom in this moment.  

Like he’d always said, the doors remain unbarred. You don’t even have to use the metal knocker; you just push through the doors of swirling white engravements. Just as if nothing had changed. He’d been waiting for you. 

Instead of Yeonjun in his quarters, you find a brownie diligently working on doing up Yeonjun’s bedding. When she turns to you, her hands continue their efforts. 

“The prince is not here right now, dear,” she says, snout twitching. Round eyes recognize you before you can introduce yourself. “He’s only just made for Court, though. You should catch him quite quickly, if you mean to.” 

It seems he hasn’t given up searching for you in Court, either. You offer her your gratitude and slip out from his room. Picking up the hems of your dress, you race to catch Yeonjun before he’s arrived at Court. Once he does, things get more sticky—if Taehyun spots you... Pushing down the anxiety that bubbles up at the thought, you cross your fingers. Let luck be on your side.  

Your Court dress, though heavy, feels nice on your skin. Although you often look down on court goers for their pompousness, you can’t deny how good it feels to fit in. That’s perhaps the reason you cling to Court the way you do; you’re beyond desperate for belonging. 

On the plush, snow-dusted bits of the forest’s floor, you spot a set of footsteps. They’re quickly being filled with the flurries. You clasp your hands in an overwhelming bout of gratitude—luck had listened, this time. Those tracks are as fresh as can be. You double your pace. 

Around a bend, you’re overjoyed to see his figure walking there. Finally hearing you coming over the roar of snowfall, he spins. His face pinches and then drops as he recognizes you. 

“You... You came?” he says. Disbelief flips his lips into a frown. “You got my letters?” 

“I did,” you answer, catching your breath. “I’m so sorry.” 

A few feet float between you, the space not yet closed but so magnetic. His cheeks are tinged pink with the cold. Yours must be too.  

“I’d thought you left. I thought I’d never see you again.” 

Your chest caves in a little at the hurt in his voice and the way it clashes with the longing in his eyes. He wants to be angry; he wants to yell at you. He can’t do either when he’s just thankful to see your face. You had missed his just as much. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. “It shouldn’t have happened.” 

Yeonjun approaches you and takes your face into his hands. His fingers are ice on your skin. He swallows in your face, soft black eyes darting from your eyes to your lips and around the rest of it; just like he’d begged you to let him do in his letters. 

“Why?” Yeonjun asks you, brushing your hair back with his fingers like he’s just testing the feel of it. 

You don’t know how to answer him. You could tell him a lot of things: Taehyun told me to stay away. He had told me that you’d hurt me. I’d started to believe him. I became scared of you. We had lied to each other. None of them feel adequate in this moment, so you shake your head. 

His eyes harden to a degree as you don’t answer. “Why wouldn’t you come talk to me, pretty?” he urges. “If something was wrong, why couldn’t you come to me? We can’t leave things broken. I sent you weeks of letters. Weeks.” 

Weeks? You’d only seen four.  

“Finally, I got smart enough to send them when he’s at Court. And then you show up here. Tell me, how am I to think that you’re okay? When he won’t even let you speak with me?” 

You blink once. Twice. Taehyun had been intercepting letters. A pit of anger flares in your belly. Whatever this protecting thing he’s doing really is, you’re sick of it. Since when had he become your keeper? He’d demanded that Yeonjun was trying to do just that, but here he is, and you have no clue why he’s doing it. 

“I didn’t know you’d sent letters until yesterday,” you tell him. “I should’ve come and seen you.” 

Running his thumb over your cheek, he murmurs, “You’re not going back there. Please, tell me you’ll stay with me. If you’re to stay here in the north forever, let it be with me. We can’t slip around like this forever.” 

Shaking your head in his hands, you pull back. You can’t decipher the dread that washes over you at his suggestion once again. Your heart is wary with the need to do just that—to not return to the estate where you’d become some sort of prisoner. Something washes over you and tells you that it won’t go the way you’d wanted, just as most things in your life hadn’t. 

Seeing the way you retract, Yeonjun becomes more desperate. “Please,” he says, hands finding your shoulders to hold you as if you’ll leave him there.  

“We’ll figure it out,” you say. “Just give me a few days to think about it, okay?” 

His face stays drawn as if he wants to argue it, but he relents. Taking your frozen hands into his own and wrapping them up in attempts to warm them, he says, “Okay. Okay, let’s get away from this blizzard, then. I’ll wait for you, love.” 

Your chest sizzles. The cold isn’t so bad, today. In a way, you’d missed it. You nod.  

Yeonjun brings you to his chambers and urges you to settle into a plush seat. You run your hands over the embroidered whorls of thread on the cushions as you watch him rummage through a chest. “What are you looking for?” you ask him, drinking in his figure. He’d switched his Court shirts for some more comfortable wear, but even in those he looks princely. He’s so pretty. Your heart flutters as he fishes out what he’d been searching for and turns to you with a smile. He settles beside you carrying a leatherbound book and a miniature wood sculpture of a girl. 

“These,” he says, setting them down on the cushion between you.  

You pick up the wood thing, looking over its painted pink cheeks and feeling the carvings that make its face. It’s fitted with a dress; one unlike any you’d ever seen. Your brow furrows. “What’s this thing?” you ask. 

“It’s called a doll,” he says explains. You feel his eyes on you, watching your reaction, not on the thing in your hands. “Human girls carry them around to play with. They change the dresses and stuff. They even make things for them to hold, but... I couldn’t get ahold of any of those.”  

Heart stuttering, you look at the wood-carved thing. “Human girls?” you ask, imagining a life where you too could have worried only about what dress your toy would wear. You revere the resilience your younger self had to have. At least you didn’t know any better; you didn’t know how you could’ve had it. That ignorance saved you. The painted eyes of the doll stare back at you. 

“Kinda cute, huh?” he says, smiling and scooting closer to fiddle with the thing’s hair. “They even do their hair up all pretty.” Looking back up to you, he says, “It’s a shame that no human who has ever grown up here knows of things like these. Simple joys.” 

You nod, a little choked up. “Yeah. I wish I had. It would have been nice to have something like this as a girl.”  

He tucks some hair behind your ear to get a better look at your face from the side. “How did you ever end up being a spy?” 

Tearing your gaze from the doll to meet his, you find a sadness there despite you not even having told him yet. It’s as if he knows it’ll hurt him already. You fiddle with the little doll’s dress as you recount. “I was a servant to a seamstress,” you start. “A royal seamstress, too. She was favored well by the gentry. She brought in hordes of clients and made dresses and Court clothes for them—but, really, her work mostly ended at being there to hear what they’d want and inlaying the dresses with her magic when they’d ask for it. The rest was my work. Taking their measurements, making their dresses... I worked her shop as soon as I became able to.” Memories of cruel and wicked faces that snickered at your expense or those who found it entertainment to scare you come back, as fresh as ever. Those memories never leave you; the ones so early on that they’d calcified into permanent parts of your personality. That terrified little girl will always be somewhere in your mind. She surfaces quite a lot, these days.  

“There was this one time...” you say, trailing off to trudge up a more awful memory. “A Lady had come in to have a dress made. She brought a guard along with her. He was this massive troll with grey skin like a toad.” You’d recall his details without any trouble for the rest of your life, you think. “I’d ran off to grab some fabric for the Lady, and he followed,” you say, voice wavering just how your little heart had wavered as you had turned around from the bolts of fabric to see the goblin stood there. “He yanked me around by my hair until I sobbed, and then he had me get on the floor and beg him to let me live.” You know now that of course he wasn’t going to kill you—he wouldn’t want problems with Nut-hatch—but you hadn’t known it then. You thought you were dead. “When he had enough of his fun, he let me go. When the other two saw how hysterical I was, all I got was being asked why I’d left them waiting so long.”  

Yeonjun asks, voice soft and tender, “The seamstress allowed that?” His eyes are heavy with a mixture of emotions. You see sadness and anger there, but also something a bit more. 

“Nut-hatch?” you say. “Of course.” They’d known what he was doing in there, of course. Even a human could have heard it. As long as you served your purpose, the folk could not care less. 

He looks taken aback at that, recognition turning his brows up. “Nut-hatch? You worked for Nut-hatch?” he asks. 

Nodding, you hum. You had no doubt he’d know her name. Her work was well-renowned in his father’s court and beyond. “I did.” 

His eyes rake over you for a long few beats before he turns your face up. “Their names?” he asks. 

“Huh?” 

“The goblin and the Lady. What are their names?” 

You try to tug at the threads of that old memory. “I don’t remember,” you say. Much of it is fresh, but you hadn’t committed their names to memory. Inconsequential in the grand scheme of it. “It’s okay. It’s passed now.” 

He doesn’t look very convinced, mind wheeling behind his eyes. You don’t want to stay on this memory for too long. Pushing it back into the dusty corner where it stays, you continue explaining. “I accepted that as my life for a long time, but... At some point, I just wanted more. I imagined all the ways I could find a new life as a human here. There are so many other things I’d preferred, but the only one I could manage was that. Even that, I was wrong about. I’m not really made for that, you know?” You lighten your tone in hopes that it’ll make your chest feel lighter as well.  

He listens intently and then leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Pulling you into his chest and keeping you notched under his chin, he says, his voice smooth to your ears, “I’m so happy you’re here now, pretty.” 

Letting out the weight in your lungs in a long, meaningful sigh, you melt into his touch. It’s difficult not to when his body is so warm against yours. You revel in it for some time, just letting him smooth over your hair and rub your back. You try your best not to let any old, sad emotions pour out through your eyes; this is a happy moment. You’ve made it. Perhaps things had been harder than you imagined they’d be, but you knew it’d be a long journey when you escaped that sewing cottage anyway. 

Peppering a few last kisses to the top of your head, he releases you to pick up the book he had also grabbed from that chest. On the front it reads: Pride & Prejudice.  

“A book?” you say, looking over the brown leather and gold printing. It’s an unfamiliar name to you, but you never read much anyway.  

He nods and pries it open. The spine crackles with age. “It’s also from the human world.” Thumbing through the pages, he adds, “It’s a story. I read it often, it’s quite a nice one. I want to give it to you so that you can read it too; it’s a beautiful love story.” 

You lean in to take a look at the words, too perfect to be handwritten. “Where do you get all this stuff?” you say. It reminds you of he’d brought you to that market for human goods. He seems to be interested in things that are human. Perhaps that includes you. Either that or he continues to show you these kinds of things for your sake. 

“I lived in their world for some years,” he says, flipping through the pages. “It’s quite different. Though... I found myself not wanting to leave. When the time came, I brought these back with me to remind me of that time.” 

Lived? Not just visited, but Yeonjun had lived in the human realm? Your heart flurries with a lifetime of wondering what your true home was like. How ironic is it that he knew more of humans than you? That you’re the one asking him questions about your kind? “How long?” you ask first. “And why were you living there?” 

“Just for something my father wanted me to do,” he answers, “Somewhere around a decade, I believe.” 

He’d spent ten years there. Multiple things click into place—no wonder he’s so able to understand your human emotions. No wonder it feels as though you’ve been seen to a different degree by him than you’d ever known before. He’d spent years with your kind. “What is it like?” you say, not sure where to begin with your questions. 

He smiles fondly. “You wouldn’t even be able to believe me, pretty. You’ll just have to see it.” 

See it. “You’d take me there?” you say.  

“Of course,” Yeonjun says, frowning. He takes one of your hands into his, pressing a kiss to it. “You deserve to see it.” He presses another kiss to your skin, now at your wrist. The hair on your skin raises at the contact. His eyes find yours as he begins a slow ascent of kisses up your arm. Each is warm and sends your spine blazing. Once he reaches your shoulder, he slows down, leaving a long moment between kisses. He continues this pace—one that both makes you wish he’d slow down and that he’d hurry and quell your want—right up the juncture of your neck and up the column, too. His controlled breaths puff out like fire on your skin where his mouth lingers. You let your head back to help his path up. He places one final kiss at your jawline before his lips land on yours, drunken and in no rush at all.  

You can’t help the visceral urge to run your hands over his soft skin, to check if the warmth there was real or if you’d manifested it in your longing. Yeonjun breaks this lethargic kiss just to laugh, but he’s quick to recapture your lips. He meets your hand and brings it under his silken shirt, guiding you up the soft planes of his abdomen. 

Pushing you back, he whispers into your mouth, “I missed you so much, pretty.” 

You rememorize the gentle muscles of his stomach beneath your palm. “It was only so many days,” you tease, “you’re just horny.” 

He lets go of your hand to begin slipping down your dress from the shoulders. “Yeah?” he hums, gobbling up each inch of skin that he reveals. “I suppose I am. It’s a gift to be able to love you in this way.” Once the fabric is clear of your hips and he’s tugging it down your legs, his face turns sly. He studies your wettened core. “I think you missed me too, though, love.” 

You drag your bottom lip into your teeth. You had. Your chest thumps rhythmically in your chest, syncing like symphony with the throb between your thighs. 

Blood sings in your veins when he places his palm right on the boundary between your lower belly and your cunt. Your stomach soars, too, so excited by his touch so near where your body craves it. He runs it up, feeling the curves of your body, up to your breast. You expect him to stop and pay attention to your chest, but he presses his hand down right over your heart and feels its beating against his palm. His eyes flutter to a shut, and he leaves his hand there for a few moments, relishing in it.  

“What other purer form of love can I show you?” he says, tapping on your hip. “On your hands and knees, baby.” 

You flip, your limbs a bit clumsy in anticipation. Once you’ve found your way there, he dances his fingertips on the small of your spine. 

“Did you think of my touches while we were apart?” 

“Mhm,” you hum. Especially on the nights when the estate seemed the emptiest. Some nights, your fingers were just not enough to save you, and you’d contemplate making a big escape to find him.  

“Well, I shouldn’t make you wait too much longer then, huh?” he coos, running that hand down to ghost touches over your slit. Though minimal, you jolt. You’d been so ravenous for this. He’d worked his shirt off so that when he leans forward to meld his chest to your back, it’s his skin that touches yours, not fabric. His hand stays ghosting touches that leave you softly gasping. 

He teasingly pinches your clit, laughing in your hair at the sharp hiss it draws from you. “So reactive,” Yeonjun muses. His fingers find their way to your hole. He dips the middle two in. “Just like the first time we made love like this. Your lovely face is burned into my mind, pretty. You have such hungry eyes.” As he pushes his fingers in, he uses his free hand to tilt your face against the cushion so that he can better see your eyes. 

You sigh, shuddering and breathy, as he begins to curl his fingers. It only takes him a few curls to rediscover that spot that has sparks flying behind your eyes. 

“There?” he asks, chin on your shoulder. “That feel good, darling?” 

Your muscles tremble at their own accord, rendering your huffs trembled as well. “Yes,” you answer. Each meaningful curl hits its mark, knees unsteady pillars that dig into the cushions. “So—so good. Please don’t stop.”  

He maintains a sickening pace—your muscles twitch around his giving fingers, just enough so that your entire body buzzes and your stomach twists, but not enough to send you shaking yet. You collapse down from your elbows, chest in the cushions. He brushes back the hair that obscures your face with the movement, adamant to see your face.  

He eggs you on by curling deeper; faster. Your answering groan is shaky and tense—you can’t get enough of the knot he curates in your belly, but at the same time, it’s daunting. He sits back, but his fingers don’t falter. His free hand explores, feeling your body up for all the time he couldn’t.  

Stomach taut and brimming on your peak, you suck in a breath. Your orgasm sits so close, running a line of electricity from between your legs up to your spine, raising goosebumps on your skin.  

Your eyes fly open, mouth ready to scold, as Yeonjun pulls his fingers from you. Your chest bubbles up with frustration, your orgasm drifting off to somewhere else. “Why?” you ask, cheeks burning. It slips and slips away from you, hole twitching around nothing as if seeking out just enough stimulus to bring it crashing back. “I was so close.” 

His hand soothes the loss ever so slightly by circling your cunt, but he does not make the mistake of offering you any touch where you most need it. It only prolongs the float down, keeping you suspended. You abhor it.  

“Please,” you whine. 

He doesn’t entertain your whines. He only continues to deliver just enough to torment you until he’s sure that you’re not so wound up that you’ll cum the moment he touches you, and then he slides his fingers back in and begins building up a more tense knot with pointed curls. Your insides delight in the return of attention, falling almost instantly back into a brutal climb. Yeonjun doesn’t bother with languid, teasing strokes now. He aims for your ruining. 

You writhe against the cushions. Your heart is a fluttering bird in your chest, trilling at the prospect of your release. It’s so close—so close that you might be able to just touch it. It tastes like honey on your tongue, painting your words sweet. “Love you,” you tell him. “Love you so much.” 

Yeonjun rewards your sweetness with his free hand on your throbbing clit, sending your hands gripping at the cushions. You wiggle your hips helplessly in search of just the right amount of friction that it’ll finally give you want you’ve been wanting. “Yes,” you mewl. “Yes, so close—” 

“Wait, baby,” he commands from behind you. “It’ll feel so much better. I promise. Hold it back.” 

He reins in his touches once again, not stopping like last time. It’s not enough to put a stop to the orgasm rippling right under your skin, right at the edge of ripping through you. You can’t hold it back; it’s right there. 

“No,” he says, once again ripping his touch from you. It doesn’t stop anything—you go rigid just before it crashes over you, and then you’re shaking without his hands even on you. You cum with a vengeance—body reclaiming twofold what he had denied you.  

“Holy shit.” Yeonjun groans watching you come unraveled without his help. “So riled up that you’re cumming by yourself, pretty,” he says, running a hand around to feel your belly muscles twitching and the way they roll along with the twitches of your hips. He eggs on your orgasm with gentle touches at your clit, sending you jolting, until you’re a panting mess and he can tell that you’ve had enough. 

You attempt to push yourself off your chest, but he gently guides you back down with a palm against your back. “Stay there, pretty. You can handle a little more, right? You did so well, I know you can. Let me make love to you, darling.” 

The cushions are awfully warm against your skin and you’re still dealing with the waves of pleasure that drift up from your cunt, but you nod your head for him. “’Kay,” you say. 

The rustling behind you tells of how he’s slipping out of the rest of his attire. You lay boneless as he does, focusing on the waves running down your thighs. It’s ecstasy in its purest form. It floats through your veins, addling any consciousness and breaking you down into what you are at your core. 

The familiar prod at your entrance jolts you back to life. As he presses in, he presses a hand to your flushed cheek. It’s a welcome temperature difference—you feel set ablaze in some sort of languid flame, one that takes its time to consume you. He laughs softly. “You’re burning up,” he says as he bottoms out, as if the feeling of him filling you up isn’t rendering you jittery in anticipation. “Ready for me, pretty?” he teases, taking your hips into his hands. “I need you to make those pretty sounds for me. I want to know that they’re just as sweet as I remember them.” He punctuates his sentence with deep rolls of his hips, aiming where he knows will have you singing. 

You’re helpless to the chorus of ‘Oh's and ‘Yes’s that he draws from you, the smacking of his hips and your sweet moans much too loud for you. You dread the thought of his servants hearing you and push your face into the cushions, muffling the array of sounds that bubble over. It’s all you can do—you could hardly contain your sounds. 

Your scalp strains as he tugs your head back, tugging your face from the cushion. “None of that, love. I waited too long for that. Don’t hide your pretty voice.”  

You shake your head. “Too loud,” you pant. “They’re gonna hear.” 

“I don’t care who hears you. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel, or I’m going to stop. Do you want me to stop?” His fingers cling to your soft hips, betraying how much this is affecting him. You know that he hardly wants to stop. 

You’re turned to mush, though. In this moment, being heard feels nowhere near as awful as Yeonjun ceasing those dizzying thrusts. You shake your head, scalp aching against the movement. “No,” you say, breathless.  

“That’s what I thought,” Yeonjun taunts, letting your cheek drop back into the fabric. “Let them hear our love. Let them hear how real it is, darling. Louder.”  

You tentatively let your sounds out into the thick air, but he decides that it’s not enough for him. Taking his hand off your hip to brace himself on the seat’s plush armrest, he doubles down his thrusts, feverish and desperate to guide you both to a beautifully explosive end. Your mouth drops open, unfiltered words and sounds spilling out from your chest as you grab at the cushions for help. With the hand that he doesn’t use to deliver those wild thrusts, he encases your hand in his own, threading his fingers between yours.  

For a few more incandescent moments, Yeonjun’s room only consists of your unabashed cries, his alternating grunts and whines, the rhythmic and hollow smacks of his hips to your skin, and the musk of your passion. Frantic bodies dance against each other, skin against skin in the purest way. Your thighs tremble pathetically, his cock brushing against your sweet spot until you squeeze your eyes shut and ride out the quivering of your cunt around him. You squeeze his hand as you shake. 

“Yes,” his pretty voice whines, “Just like that.”  

Picking up his pace, he chases to join you in your orgasm. He pants behind you, desperately fucking into you until his hips stutter and he stills, falling into your shoulder to deliver needy rolls and shooting warm spurts of his release into you.  

You two stay like this for some unhurried moments. You focus on his heartbeat; feeling it thudding against your back reminds you that he is real, and he is love. You hold his hand in yours a little tighter. 

❆

“I doubt that this will go exactly as you believe it will,” Beomgyu says, watching you do your hair up. Your eyes meet his in the vanity’s mirror.  

Arms burning as your hold them over your head, your words come out clipped with the ache. “It worked yesterday, didn’t it?” you say. You push a filigree comb into your hair to secure it up. “I got back hours before he did.” 

“I’m not saying that Taehyun is right,” he says, “but I think that it would do us both a favor if you practice a bit more precaution.” 

“What, are you afraid of Taehyun?” you ask, raising your brows at him in the reflection.  

Your taunt hits its mark, Beomgyu shifting in your bed and scowling. “Of Taehyun, never,” he parries, “of the fact that he could ask me to do anything and I’d do it, yes.” He shakes out his lightly matted tresses, a habit you’ve noticed over the passing weeks. “I played a little too closely to the fire with him once, and it landed me like this: no longer the owner of my being. I’d sooner chew off my own fingers than become his obedient dog, but I believe you also know that it’s best to soar low with this, no? Are we not together in this?” 

You press your lips into a thin line. In a way, you’d come to an alliance of sorts with Beomgyu. Despite his being a kelpie, the two of you are not so different now. Both confined to these walls, listening to Taehyun when he commands it. You don’t want any of your actions to snap back on Beomgyu, though. With you attending Court today, it’s almost definite that Taehyun will see you. You turn to face him. “Why don’t you join us, then?” you offer. “I’ll tell him myself that I commanded you to come with me. I’m sure he’ll be less upset if I have you there with me.” 

He gives it a thought, his eyes looking as tired and sunken as they always do. “I’m not one for Court,” he says. 

“But I’ll be there,” you plead, unable to help the twitching of smirk on your lips. “If we do it together, it can’t be so bad.” 

He frowns, but you can see that you’ve won. “I grieve for how the forest left me to my own,” Beomgyu grumbles. 

You surge up from your seat, eyes bright. “You’ll go?” you say, giddy to return to the thrill of faerie revelry and also to see the strange kelpie in the center of it. 

Grimacing, he answers, “I will join you.” 

You take his hands into yours and press a cheeky kiss to his forehead. “You’re not so scary as you try to paint yourself,” you tell him, watching as he catches bait. You laugh as he glowers. 

“Don’t push it.” He climbs off your bed. “I’m scarier than you should imagine, girl. I do this for my own reasons.” 

You pull a patronizing frown and nod. “Of course, I know.” 

You don’t have to wait for him to get ready to any capacity; he tells you that he has no intentions of making any impressions, and you’ve seen faeries in far more drastic states of disarray. Many show up for their reveling in just their skin. 

Beomgyu drones on about how he detests the audaciousness of the gentry folk while you make for the hall. The forest around you is as quiet as you remember it being when you’d first met him. It reminds you that, no matter how used you become to him, he is a creature to be feared. The little folk are right to hide away. For you, though, his might is a relief: should Taehyun be right, you’ll be safe. He moves at your beck and call. Though, the thought of forcing the kelpie to carry out your will is an uneasy one that you do not strive to fulfill. 

Once the buzzing of Court comes into earshot, wonderful faerie music along with it, you breathe it in. “First time in... how long since you’ve shown your face here?” 

“Perhaps four-hundred-something years,” he answers, looking over the scene with as much distaste in his face as his voice. “We solitary folk don’t make ourselves known here unless to bow to a crown. I do not bow to any crown.” 

Itching to find your prince, you gesture toward it. He should be fine—Court is supposed to be an insouciant place. “Don’t they host anybody who decides to come? Faerie hospitality, and all that? You’ll be fine.” 

“It’s all hospitality until you step foot from those trees,” he says. “And even hospitality is sometimes betrayed. You know how capricious we can be, I’m sure.”  

You approach the warm lights, but his words remain with you. It beckons you to remember that their minds are fickle and fundamentally different from yours. However you think they may act, they might act in the complete opposite way. You should at least let that guide how you conduct your actions a little bit. 

As you breach the pillars of trees and are finally surrounded once again by their pinched faces and gangly limbs, you search for both Taehyun and Yeonjun. You see neither, and so you make your way to the tables to seek snacks. You scour them for something sweet to chew over as you wait for him to appear. He’d said he’d be coming around this time, right? You surely hadn’t mistaken the time he’d told you? 

Beomgyu speaks from beside you, observing a hag that loiters nearby. “Is he not here?” he asks. 

Shrugging, you say, “He’ll be here soon.”  

You watch the hag inching closer, bent over with age; though, you assume that’s she’s been old for the entirety of her life. Her pointed ears droop from her thin tresses of silver, cuffed with gold.  

Turning from her, you gesture over the cavorting crowds, more frantically chasing their merriments than ever before. The solstice arrives tomorrow; they welcome its presence with their excitement. “This is all for the solstice?” 

He offers you an affirmative nod. “Just some excuse to entertain themselves like this,” he explains, “the solstice will arrive whether they encourage its coming or not. I believe that they just enjoy this debauchery too much.” His hollow eyes rake over the throngs. “Anyway, many of them are just here because it’s the only time that they’ll see Court. Otherwise, only the gentry gather here.” 

“What makes you any different than them?” you ask. “What makes you so averse to offering your allegiance to the High Courts? Would it not be nice to have their protection, and to keep them off your back?” You seek Yeonjun once more in the crowds, but still, he doesn’t appear. “You know, so they don’t call you in for things like eating too much?” 

“I do not surrender my sovereignty to any. Come they to my doorstep and demand that I do, I could not care. I’m content with the way I make my life.”  

His refusal to do just that must be why Taehyun’s father had come to claim his life. You’re sure that it’s also why the coming of the General’s son to steal his autonomy must’ve made him so angry. You don’t blame him.  

Why would The Queen demand fealty from the solitary folk? You’d thought that, like the High King, she’d leave them to their forests. If they’re all as adamant as Beomgyu, it seems like a lost cause. 

“Well,” you say, “I’m glad that—” 

A gnarled hand, fingers knobbed against your skin and skin about as soft as tree bark, tugs your arm. You spin to find who owns it.  

The hag’s eyes remind you of Beomgyu’s, piercing and dull with the weight of a long life. Though, hers are much more unsightly than his mud-brown ones, saggy eyelids drooping over a pair of eyes with ink-black where the whites of her eyes should be. She pulls you toward her by your skirts.  

You tug yourself back, pinching your brows. “Who are you?” 

She points her clawed, grey hand out at you, bangles of gold and chunky beads jingling as she does. “You, girl,” the hag says, urgent. Her voice is harsh and it crackles as she speaks. She reaches inside of her furry robes and produces a wood trinket from it. In her palm that she shoves at you lays a bit of wood carved into the shape of a wolf, painted in black. Its shaggy black fur reminds you of the kind Taehyun would sometimes wear over his shoulder.  

“I don’t need that,” you say, rejecting her hand. Nothing in faerie comes for free—the hag just sees a human girl that she can offer free things to in hopes that you’ll know no better and take. Then, you’d be in her debt, and she’d demand something from you. You do know better, though. 

“Oh,” she says, shaking her head as she draws out the word. “You do, girl. Take it, take it. You need it, I know it. Take it, I won’t hold it to you, girl, just have it.” Razor teeth appear behind her curled lips. “It is dormant with me. But, in your hands... Take it.” She shakes her jousted hand out at you each time she demands that you take it. “It offers you protection. It would do no good in my possession. It beckons me to give it to you, its pleas are so loud—loud, loud, loud! Take it off my hand, won’t you?” 

Her urging unsettles you, but so do her words. You assume that it’s inlaid with some sort of protective enchantment. Why would you need protection? Although, she could also just be fooling you. She could be holding a perfectly plain hunk of carved wood in her palm for all you know. You shoot a look at Beomgyu. If she were any trouble, he’d tell you. 

He looks about as lost as you do, shrugging. 

“Oh, sakes!” the hag grumbles, clutching her robes to her body. She takes Beomgyu’s hands and places the thing there. “There. I have no reasons to be here fooling humans. Useless debts, what could you give me? Nothing I need.” She points a sturdy, twiggy finger at you. “Keep it on you, girl, else it won’t do its work.” 

With those final ill-boding words, the hag hobbles off, her curved back disappearing between the gaps in the crowd. 

“Here,” Beomgyu says, regarding the trinket with his observation. “That hag really wanted this to be yours, so I think it ought to be in your hands.” He tries pushing it off to you. 

Laughing, you don’t reach out to take it, darting his hand with your whole body. You hang your hands in the air. “I’m not taking that thing,” you say. “She handed it to you, so I really think it ought to be in your hands.” 

He deadpans. “I’ve just been collecting myself a heap of debts, haven’t I?” He closes it into his fist for his lack of pockets. “What’s this one to add?” 

“Does it... feel like it has anything bad on it?” you ask, remembering how he’d identified your geas. “Like a curse, or a bad enchantment, or something?” 

Shaking his head, he says, “No. I feel it does have a protective purpose, but the magic there is... odd. Hard for me to decipher. Probably that hag’s.”  

You purse your lips, nodding. Regardless, whatever protection that thing might have offered you, you’ll be fine without it. 

Shaking off the odd interaction, you resume perusing the snack platters in your wait. You skip over glazed pinecones. Those would be terrible on your human stomach and teeth. You can only imagine how they’d jab at your gums. You opt for a helping of braised fiddlehead ferns. Chewing on the furled thing, you entertain yourself with the revelers. Littler folk dart in and out of legs. Long-limbed gentryfolk with flowers in their hair spin with interlocked hands at the center of the clamor. Sharp-eyed faeries with even sharper mouths speak in clusters, no doubt scheming. In all its oddness, you’d missed it.  

 A silk-smooth voice steals your attention. “A kelpie?” Yeonjun says, regarding Beomgyu beside you. “Now, how did you manage to befriend a kelpie? Even better, how did you drag it here?” 

Your chest lights up. “Long story,” you say, brushing his curiosity off. “What took you so long?”  

He’s dressed in his Courtly best—cuffs made of ruffle and an array of rings decorating his fingers. They catch light as he brings his hand up to run a hand along the expanse of your collarbone. He hesitates to answer for a split second. “I ran into Kai on my way,” he explains. “He’s performing here today and for tomorrow's solstice.” 

Accepting his answer, you go to tell Beomgyu that you’re going off, but he’s not even there as you turn. He must’ve wandered off as Yeonjun had arrived. 

“Want to join them?” he asks, tilting his head toward the dancing bodies. Soft black strands drift over his eyes.  

Shaking your head, you offer him some of the sweets you’d been eyeing, knowing that he’s got a knack for sweets. “Not today. I think I want to remember all of tonight, and, well...” Memories of the way you’d danced uncontrollably until it’d fade to black lick at your mind. You want to revel in your return to normalcy fully, not with a buzzing mind. You can’t deny the allure of that tingling in your bones as you hear the faerie music, though. It curls a wild finger at you, beckoning. 

An uncomfortable look passes through his eyes, gone as fast as it had come. “All right, darling,” he hums, accepting the sweets. “Does the Lord know you’re here?” 

Lips tugging into a faint frown, you say, “Not yet, I think.” The quick expression doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Unlike the ice the Taehyun offers you, Yeonjun wears his feelings all over himself. It’s just one way that they are fundamentally different. “Is something wrong?” 

Yeonjun looks taken aback at your asking. “I’m doing just fine,” he says. “Why do you ask?” 

He does not say nothing wrong. You know it is because he cannot lie. You look him over. What had happened? And, why is he averse to telling you the truth? “Just thought you looked a bit upset.” You shrug. “Did you want to dance?” 

His nose crinkles with a laugh. “No, pretty. I’d be in your presence doing nothing and still be content.” He takes your hands into his, the metal on his fingers biting cold against your skin. “How about we go listen to Kai play?” 

He leads you to where the musicians work at concocting their works, claiming a chalice of some drink from a table on the way. Kai, of course, stands away from the rest, back to a tree while his fingers dance on the strings. You look around for Taehyun from here, but still, you don’t see his face. 

Yeonjun holds the chalice’s neck between his middle two fingers, sipping from it. “It’s nice to know that even as this season ends, I won’t be forced to go back there.” 

His pretty lips wrap over the edge of the chalice as he drinks from it. “Won’t your father know something is up when you don’t return?” 

Nodding slowly, he grimaces. “I suppose that time has finally come.” 

You squeeze his hand in yours. “We both sacrificed things to be here, huh?” you say. You don’t know a lot of what Yeonjun’s life back in his home court was like, but you know that it would be hard to revolt against your own family for anybody. Even for the prince of Faerie. 

He captures your eyes, his soft brown ones making crescents with his gentle smile. “We did,” he muses. 

“Remember our first night in Court?” you say. You’d been so uneasy, searching for a place to fit in. Then, from the crowds of overwhelming faces, he’d appeared, all charm and welcoming smiles. How couldn’t you have let your heart fall? 

Another flash of disconcertment, his smile faltering. He hides it behind another sip of his drink. Swallowing, he nods, laughing off-kilter. “I do. I think watching you dance that time was the best thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Odd, but you don’t push the issue. If he says that he’s fine, it must just be something to little effect. “What made you come up to me that night?” you say, remembering how confused you’d been when such a pretty gentry boy had taken interest in you. You’d agonized over why he’d done so for long, and sometimes you still, but you’ve made some peace with it by now.  

His lips are tight. “I... It’s hard to explain.” 

You accept that answer at face-value and let your head fall into his shoulder while you watch Kai dutifully work at his songmaking. Among those making the music for Court, his contributions stand out as the most enthralling. Faerie music is too elusive for you to decipher why, but perhaps it’s just his lazed passion. “I understand,” you say. His shoulder is tight and less cushy than you expect it to be. Looking up to him, you frown to see how he’s looking down at you, eyes stormy. He looks like he’s sick to his stomach. You go to ask if he’s going to be okay, but he speaks before you can. 

“Pretty, I... I have to tell you something.” He pulls you off of him to look into your eyes. He’s always been so steadfast and sure, but now his gaze wavers. “I’m so sorry.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. “What?” you say, a tingle in your spine telling you that something isn’t right; that you’re not going to like what he’s going to say. “Yeonjun, you’re making me nervous. Is something wrong?” 

You know it’s awful and you’re not sure why you do it, but for a split second, you inspect the hall for possible attackers. A terrible bout of potent adrenaline makes you want to run or cry. Beomgyu is here, right? 

He swallows hard, face a ghostly pallor. “I can’t keep doing this,” he says, voice trembling. “I need to tell you the truth, it’s... it’s been eating me alive. I can’t look into your sweet face and know...” 

Acid climbs up your throat. Your heart joins it, thick in your throat and choking you. “What? Know what Yeonjun?” you ask, lips trembling. Your skin prickles, hair raising. You may throw up. He looks stricken in place, not answering you. “What?” you demand. 

“I didn’t come up to you for no reason that day.” 

Your heart, still caught in your throat, bursts. It’s a horrifying, bloody affair. “No,” you say, shaking your head. You feel so removed from your body that you can almost envision how your blood-drained face might match his. 

“I knew that you were the spies the moment I saw you. It was....” He sucks in a breath. Your world spins around you as you wait. “I was supposed to determine who the spies were. I was supposed to have them killed, but pretty, I knew I couldn’t do that the moment I saw you. I thought it was just going to be some... some random faerie that I’d...” 

If your world was spinning before, it’s now flipped upside down and inverted. “No,” you repeat, a guttural plea that you know won’t change anything. It’s the only word that your mouth will make for right now, though. 

You’re hurt. You’re scared. You’re angry. You’re frozen. 

Yeonjun grabs for your hands, but you rip yourself away from him, your glaring eyes so at odds with your wobbling lips. “It doesn’t change anything,” he says. “It doesn’t change how I love you now. You know I love you. You know I love you, right? I’m so sorry. I would never hurt you. I did my best to protect you. Please, I never wanted to hurt you,” he rambles, frantically grabbing for your arms as he falls down to his knees before you. 

A few faeries around you gasp, and a blur of their commotion forms around you. The crowned prince of Faerie just went to his knees. Your eyes dart wildly around their guffawing faces, and between a space you spot a familiar face: cold eyes and a cracked mask of indifference. He looks right at you. 

What on earth is going on? How is this life right now? You snap back to Yeonjun in front of you. 

“Please, don’t look at me like that, pretty,” he pleads. “Please.” His voice cracks, eyes frantic. “Slap me. Tell me you hate me for it. But please, don’t look at me like you’re scared of me.” 

Tears scald your cheeks. 

“I know that it’s selfish of me to ask you that; I know, I know it—but please, I can’t handle it, love. I was never going to let anything happen to you, I knew it the moment I saw you. I felt it right here”—he gestures to his beating heart, the one your hand had felt and cherished so only last night—“I knew that no matter how big my ambitions were, they would never be bigger than that.” 

You can’t listen to any more. His words pour out onto your skin, but they all slip off like rain upon a beast’s winter pelt. None can penetrate the ringing in your ears. 

Yeonjun sees how retracted you’ve become. “Pretty, please,” he says, slower and more dire now. “Say something." 

You don’t know what to do. Your feet are rooted fast to the ground, but you know that you have to leave, or else you’ll start creating excuses for him. You know yourself too well to let that happen. 

Picking up your skirts, you manage only a few words to part him with. “Though your kind can’t lie,” you say, “you have been the biggest liar I have ever known. You said you loved me.” 

“I do,” he says, shaking his head, eyes twinkling. “I do.” 

Maybe love is a different thing to a faerie. 

You take off. He calls for you, but it’s muffled by the restlessness of the folk around you and the still-playing music. You dart between openings and bounce off bodies, lights and angry faces a blur in your frenzy. Most folk don’t spare you even a glance; nothing could pull them from their merriment. But others gawk at you like you put on a performance, greedy eyes drinking in any amount of fanfare. Their eyes itch under your skin. Crossing the expanse of the hall has never felt so arduous.  

You’ve become their spectacle. 

Breaking into the cold night air, you don’t run home or collapse to your knees in a sob. You hold your dress hard in your hands, the one he’d gifted you among so many others, its fabric bunching in your fists, and stand there as if frozen staring into the tree line ahead. You don’t move and you don’t think; both would remind you that this is real and that you are a fool. You just allow the bitter air to swaddle your skin. 

You don’t even know if you doubt that he loves you. You don’t even know if he actually never intended to hurt you. Had there been times where all you’d done was look at him with starry eyes, and he’d look at you deciding whether or not to have you killed? 

Why are you even here? There is nothing left for you. Whatever simple joys you thought you’d found, they’re gone. You’re so far away from home, and you’ve nobody to call home. You’d left behind your beginnings of a purpose, and now the only purpose you serve is to rot away in Taehyun’s estate because you demanded that you stay here. 

All that time you’d spent worrying, and still, you walked yourself into this. You’re a joke. And now, you’re fully serving your purpose as one—to be laughed at.

White breaths unfurl into the night air before you, floating off to join the snowflakes and heavy fog. You just watch those fluffy flakes fall for a while. 

Snow creaks under a few footsteps behind you, someone letting you know that they’re there. “You’ve gotten awfully good at sneaking around,” Taehyun says. 

You let your head fall back, sighing slowly out through your nose. Turning to him, you spit, “I understand. You were right. I got it, okay? I don’t need you to come here and rub it in.” 

Beomgyu approaches from behind Taehyun. 

Taehyun doesn’t say anything for a bit, ice-hard eyes darting all over your face. “Take her back to the estate,” he tells Beomgyu. 

Glad to escape him, you begin your way on your own. You know that he’s only looking at your break down as pathetic. Perhaps it is, but recognizing that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Wind lapping at your wet cheeks have them stinging as you walk. 

Beomgyu awkwardly trails behind you as you follow the path that had become trodden in the time that you and Taehyun have been here, foliage and shrubbery broken down to make somewhat of a path. 

He doesn’t speak; you don’t expect him to. Instead, you break the quiet yourself, unable to stand only the sound of wind twirling between trees. “I should’ve taken that ridiculous charm thing,” you say, laughing through your tears. That hag had absolutely been able to feel what was coming with you with whatever intuition that the magic in her bones lends her. 

“But then,” Beomgyu says, “you wouldn’t know the truth.” 

That’s true. Not knowing the truth doesn’t make it untrue, but at least it spares your fragile heart. “I don’t know if I’d mind that,” you tell him. “I think I’d prefer it.” 

Ignorance is bliss, as the saying goes. 

❆

You don’t remember falling asleep. You remember climbing into your bed, dreading that you’ll be in your head all night, but to some mercy, you’d found sleep not long after that. 

You’d pulled yourself from bed, no matter how it had grown a gravitational pull and insisted that it’d hold you warm while you weep. If you hadn’t, you might not have gotten up at all. As a girl, you’d force yourself into the day’s routine when you had your worst days. It’s the only way that you live through it. You’d also made an effort to walk past your wardrobe. It carries so much of him: the lovely things he’d gifted you, his letters, and that book he’d lent you. It’s not that you don’t want any of these things; to wither away in your bed, to go through his things and wonder how someone who’d showered you so had meant to be your killer, to drag your feet... It’s that you can’t. 

You poke your needle through the fabric. On the cut of white fabric stretched inside the embroidery hoop, you’ve embroidered a dozen woven wheel stitch flowers of different colors and types. Your bottom aches against the hardwood flooring and your lower spine strains, but you don’t pay any mind to their complaining. You just continue to embroider the little flowers. Some are poppy, some rose, and some you’d made up just to have more to stitch. 

A knock resounds through the war room from the doorway. You look to see Taehyun there. He’s dressed in his Court attire. 

“You should get dressed,” he says. “It’s almost midnight. If you want to make it in time, you’ve got to get ready now.” 

Since when had he decided that you’re okay to go? It’s as if this elusive threat that’d he’d been so careful has up and disappeared. “You can go. It’ll take me too long to get ready.” 

Truth be told, you’d go sick seeing Yeonjun’s face, and you know without a doubt that you would. 

“It’s the solstice,” Taehyun says, stepping into the room. He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. 

Despite how much you had wanted to see it, your heart is too apathetic for it to be worth anything now. Returning to the same faces that had seen your demonstration and no doubt now talk of it... You’d rather finish your fifth rose. “I know.” 

He hesitates, studying you while gears turn in his head. “Hadn’t you thought that something would happen on the solstice?” he says. “Come on. It’s worth seeing how this unfolds.” 

“Why? We aren’t spies anymore. I don’t care what happens in their conflict. It’s well beyond my control as a human here.” 

He grimaces, but you don’t recognize the look there to be anger, more a rigidness. He rests his hand on his sword as he always does. “Then we’ll stay here.” 

You furrow your brows. “Huh?” 

“We can celebrate the solstice here,” he elaborates. “We don’t need to do it there. Plenty of folk celebrate on their own.” 

It dawns upon you that this is his stilted attempt at comforting you. It’s the only way he knows how. You push off the ground. You couldn’t ignore this sliver, however little, of tenderness. You’re not sure if you’d ever see it again if you did. You’ll take anything to distract your mind, as well. You can’t escape the image of Yeonjun’s eyes as he’d pleaded with you from the ground. “I’m not sure Beomgyu will join us, though. He doesn’t believe in the need to celebrate the solstices.” 

“He will if I command it,” he says.  

“What, you’re going to command the poor kelpie to sit and watch a bonfire with us?” you say, imagining how he’d brood. 

The north is wickedly cold at all times, but it’s especially so after night falls. You shuffle closer to the bonfire that Taehyun had built. It’s multitudes smaller than the bonfire you’d sat around with Yeonjun, but it’s warm enough for just the two of you. You quickly shove down those tainted memories before they sting. A lump of emotion forms in your throat before you can, though. You clear it. “Is there anything special that you’re supposed to do?” 

Feeding one last log into the flame, he watches it catch. “We started this really early,” he says. “The fire is supposed to keep you warm and represent the sun’s warmth until sunrise...” He trails off, sliding the cuffs of his shirt that he’d slid up to his elbows to tend to the fire down and sucking in an awkward breath. He looks between the fire and you as though he’d not fully thought out his offer when he’d made it. 

You face your palms to the orange flame, letting the roiling waves of heat warm them. “It’s nice like this.” 

The flame sizzles and pops, spewing sparks and eating up the wood, for a few long moments. You’re not in a talky mood, and Taehyun doesn’t seem to know where to begin on conversation with you that isn't functional. No snow falls around you, and any wind is cut by the estate. This—a place to lose yourself to your mind—is both the thing you need and what you most should not have. 

Taehyun stands watching the fire twirling, his arms over his chest.  

“Is your shoulder healing fine?” you ask, once the air starts feeling a bit heavy with the weight of the prolonged quiet. “Are my stitches holding up fine? No infection, or anything?” 

His gaze flicks up to you. “You stitched it up pretty well,” he answers. “I saw the flowers you were making. You’ve got a good hand.” 

Frowning, you say, “You didn’t say it’s not infected...” 

“It’s not infected,” he says. 

That could be a lie or the truth, you know. But... this sort of deception, you’re more comfortable with. Your human mind can pick up on these subtleties, can catch the careful intonation of somebody trying to hide something behind a lie. “Could I see it?” you ask him. 

He hesitates, expression flat as his eyes convey the extent of his consideration. “You can.” He grabs at his tunic, the fabric the only thing his frost blood even needs to wear out in the cold, and pulls it over his head. 

You swallow hard and fight the flush to your cheeks at the sight of his scar-flecked flesh, his muscled abdomen disappearing as he turns around to show you his back. When you’d last seen his bare skin, you’d been so high on your fear and adrenaline that you’d barely flinched.  

Blinking, you focus on the arrow puncture at his shoulder blade. It’s done some healing, but tinged by an angry red and visibly swollen around the stitches. You curse. 

Of course, he’d rather let his shoulder rot away than admit that he needs any more of your help than he’d been forced to allow. That would require admitting that he’s not just an impenetrable wall of ice. “That is definitely infected,” you say. “Were you just going to let that kill you? Infections like that are beyond help once they get in your bloodstream.” 

“I’ve had infected wounds before,” he says, preparing to put his shirt back on. “This one is nothing. It’ll take a bit longer, but... It’ll heal up fine.” 

You grab his arm. “Just let me clean it a bit,” you insist. “It’s not that big of a deal. You’re not scared that it’s gonna hurt, are you?” 

Sighing, Taehyun says, “I thought you wanted to enjoy the solstice.” 

The hopeful girl you’d been had wanted that, but now it’s just a reminder of everything you don’t want to remember. You wave your hand in the air dismissively. “We did. Come on.” 

You find a bucket to fill with water and cloth along with some stash of ancient spirits in the kitchens, their containers lined with a layer of dust so thick that you know they’re left over from Taehyun’s father. He watches you gather it all. 

You beckon him to turn and show you his shoulder again. He does, bracing his arms on a counter and letting his head hang. You spill out some of that strong liquor into the wound. You’re not really sure if it’ll work as a disinfectant, but as a girl you’d seen an older woman pour it over her wound once, and it’s all you know. 

Gently dabbing at his shoulder now with the water-soaked rag, swollen except for where the stitches sinch it, you say, “You should’ve been going gentle on this thing.” 

Taehyun doesn’t make any fuss as you prod at the wound. “I had more important things to concern myself with,” he says plainly. You press the wet rag to the wound and hold it there, and he begins to try and redirect the conversation to anything other than about himself. “What did the prince say to you at Court?” 

Your stomach drops. “It was nothing.” 

“I know that’s not the truth,” he says, picking up his head to try and look over his shoulder at you. “Tell me the truth.” 

You take the long, torn strips of cloth and begin wrapping it around the expanse of his broad shoulders in a sloppy and amateurish wrap. As long as it shields the wound, it’ll work. “That’s rich coming from you,” you say. “There’s plenty that you lie to me about. You even lied about this.” You tap his shoulder. 

Turning now that you’re done, Taehyun eyes you. You don’t know if he’d been able to hear anything over the sounds of Court or if he’d heard it all with his better hearing ears. You can’t tell which it is.  

“I’ll hear it from some Court gossiper anyway. I think you’d prefer to tell me it yourself.” 

The thought of that scene being a topic of Court gossip makes you ill, but you know that it’s true. The folk love the show, especially one that includes a prince of Faerie on his knees in front of a human. Red-hot embarrassment takes a leisurely stroll up your spine. Your biggest fear has taken flesh in the cruelest way possible.  

Well, if he’s going to end up knowing anyway... You’d prefer it’s from your mouth. You don’t know what sort of conflated half-truths the folk might come up with, since they have no more idea what happened than what they saw. “He was supposed to kill us,” you say, chest too tight to explain it in any depth. “Or, at least, find out who we are, so that we could be killed.” 

Taehyun doesn’t look shocked. He nods. “So, they anticipated our arrival, then. The odds had been stacked against us from the beginning.” 

You nod. Would you have been able to escape? If things had never become entangled between you and Yeonjun, would you and Taehyun lived beyond the first day? Taehyun is strong and you know that he’s no doubt survived plenty in his life, but you’d have been caught completely unaware. “Yeah.” 

“I told you that he’d show you his colors eventually.” 

You want to fight him on that, but you can’t. You have nothing to say. He’d been right. 

What’s left for you now that he has?  

…🪶 ashlynn's note RAHHH! like i said, this part gave me a bit of grief because part 3 was left so open ended—i had so many options and paths i could follow, but ultimately, i chose this one! how do we feel?

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

[biolumien]

Might I say that the Hoshina x Painter! reader was a brush stroke of genius. It's superb so if its possible, I'd like to request a part two?

Maybe Hoshina gets to go out on a date. And of course, the recruits quickly finding out about this and they sort of try to spy on them while they go about their day. Up to you really. I just live for the concept, and I defo want to see how things play out. Especially since their worlds are so far apart from each other.

He probably doesn't know the first thing about art. And Reader probably knows nothing of Kaijus. Let alone swordsmanship or martial arts. And the sudden match made between them is sure to make rapid news around Tachikawa base because, 'Ayo that's our Vice Captain with the famous painter who just so happened to paint his portrait a few days ago?' AKAKHSKNS such an endearing concept.

notes: insanely good pun. i hope this is okay! part 2 of this fic.

the second stroke

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader no warnings apply, i think! let me know, though. word count: 1306

talking to hoshina was–awkward. or so you thought, at least. you couldn’t exchange many words following the panel, apart from saying hi–hoshina had immediately gotten swarmed with questions–what was the relationship between the two of you? what was the meaning behind what you’d said? so you’d managed to find him in the aftermath, pulled him aside and made tentative plans to meet up in the coming days.

you stopped having dreams of your mysterious muse altogether at this point. once in awhile, you thought you might have felt the faint whisper of warmth, the ghosting touch of lips brushed against the side of your face. that had to have been real, right? but the fact that you couldn’t remember your dreams now–if you even had them at all, worried you more th an you’d like to admit.

you’d agreed on a date in a discrete location–but despite that, you held a pretty large parasol in the park, with loose-fitting clothes to disguise the bulk of your figure.

“so it’s true, then?” hoshina asks as the two of you wander the park, past some shady trees. “that’s… i mean, it’s… pretty… ha, i mean, that kind of stuff comes out of a romance novel, no?” 

you like the way the sunlight dapples across his hair, dances across the bridge of his nose. your fingers itch to paint, to scrape a palette knife across a stretch of canvas. 

“it sounds far fetched to me, too,” you mumble, spinning the straw of your drink. “that i would dream of a man from a past life–who… happens to be you. happened. to be you. also in a past life. and i think… well, i–i think we were lovers? or-or something like that.”

“lovers,” hoshina echoes. 

he pauses.

your face feels hot.

“it’s stupid,” you mumble. “i know. i know it is.”

“it’s not,” hoshina says. “i mean–i’m not… a believer. in most of that kind of stuff, but. you painted me.” he laughs. “that’s gotta be proof of something bigger than the both of us. i don’t know if i should be happy or sad that it’s real. like–”

he flexes his hands.

“do you get what i mean? like–like… i’ve been telling myself that-that… i was doing everything within my power–to be the way i was, and then… if there really is some kind of divine providence, pulling us together–some red string of fate, the kind that bonds lovers together–how am i so sure that a god didn’t just decide the limits of my capabilities? i’m not sure… how to feel about it.”

you ponder his words.

“fighting kaiju is… a completely new world, compared to me,” you say. “but i’m sure even if it–even if it was divine providence, you’re doing something only you can do. and–and i think that’s wonderful.”

hoshina’s eyes soften.

“wonderful?” he murmurs. 

“yeah,” you say. “someone–not just someone, but… we’re all… relying on you. that’s something i could never imagine.”

“i mean–” hoshina laughs, brushing a hand across the back of his neck. “i couldn’t imagine painting the way you do. that seems so overwhelming–to conjure things from your imagination and deliver them to the page.”

you shake your head.

“it’s a bit of that, but it’s not completely from my imagination. i do a lot of portraits–with real models, things like that,” you mumble, your face flushing a little bit at his words. “it’s… mm. a complicated progress, but it’s not nearly as physically intensive as you fighting kaiju. i-i read a bit. from some of your press interviews.”

“oh?” hoshina’s eyes widen, and he laughs. “that’s–well, i didn’t… most of those were just–scripted.”

“my press interviews are, too,” you say.

hoshina’s lips quirk up.

“i guess we’re kind of the same, yeah?” hoshina says, nudging you slightly, his hand reaching out to cross the gap between the two of you–of you. he doesn’t intrude further though, even as he crosses the gap—seemingly shy and nervous, worried and careful not to do more until you were okay with it. 

you relax your stance a little, and his hand brushes against yours. 

“i guess so,” you say, blinking up at him. your face feels hot.

you don’t know whether the fluttering in your heart is from you or if it’s from that whisper of a past life, the repeated lines of affection–that it should feel this easy to fall for hoshina, because some version of you did, a stranger-yet-familiar-yet-familiar. hoshina’s expression is somehow fond, and he leans closer before–

he suddenly perks up, his head whirling around, checking the surroundings.

“what’s–” you start, but hoshina raises a hand, glancing at you before raising a finger to his lips. you fall silent, your heart pounding against your throat.

“come out,” hoshina says sharply. “you guys aren’t subtle at all. you’re lucky that kaiju are so stupid.” 

from behind one of the trees, several people come skulking out with lowered heads, as if they were scolded toddlers.

“i told you this was a bad idea,” says a boy with mint green hair, elbowing a taller, older man. the man hangs his head, recoiling dramatically at the boy’s touch. “you can’t get past hoshina at all.”

“in my defense,” the man says apologetically, remorsefully, “i was just curious where he was going… it’s not often he takes days off. you know this.”

“i warned you,” says a woman with her hair drawn up in a tall ponytail. her voice is quiet, but she’s striking–and you wonder what kind of charcoal you might use to sketch out the sharp lines of her face–and then you realize you’ve seen her face scattered across billboards. mina ashiro?

“i love this bit you guys do,” hoshina laughs, archly, “where you talk like i’m not even here. come on. if you want to–hey, put that–put that down. don’t–”

mina lowers her phone as hoshina blurts it out, her face bemused. 

“sorry,” mina says. “force of habit. i keep an album of every moment where you let your goody facade drop. do you want to see?” she looks at you, holding out her phone. “i have some where he’s asle–” “not on the first date,” hoshina says, his voice pitching higher. 

“first date?” the man’s eyes widen. “captain hoshina, you’re on a date? with that artist? the one who drew you?”

your eyes scan between him and hoshina.

“yes,” hoshina says tersely. “is it that weird?”

“no,” the man says. “just–you don’t seem like the romantic… type?”

“i’m not,” hoshina says.

you feel something like cold ice seize your throat.

“but i… i want to try,” hoshina amends, and his hand reaches out for yours, a grasping thread of intent. you entangle your fingers in his, and the weight of his hands feels right. like a preordained fate–you were always meant to find each other, and the weight and feel of his fingers entangling yours, his knuckles tightening as if he was afraid to see you disappear–

that was right.

“if we’re really bonded by fate, anyway,” hoshina says, glancing at you–and your heart seizes in your throat, caught by how earnest he seems– “i want to see it to the end.”

your face heats up.

“it was–it was just a painting,” you mumble. 

“a really good painting,” hoshina adds, and he laughs.

“you guys are cute,” mina says. “but you’re grossing me out. just a little.”

her face is impassive, but the corners of her lips quirk up a little as she says the words.

“oh, how it hurts,” hoshina says dramatically, pulling you closer to him, “to have stirred the ice-cold heart of mina ashiro so.”

and your face flushes again, brighter, but you cling tightly to hoshina like a lifeline, and wonder what shade of red you might use to carve out the feeling of love in your chest.

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #54

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 21.2k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

“No.”

“But–”

“I said no. What's not clicking?”

You should've expected this response and reaction. Not even in your wildest dreams you imagined this to go smoothly, the lack of sleep you've managed to get after yesterday speaks for everything. Not only Jungkook and the argument your friends witnessed so openly clouded your mind and made it difficult for you to surrender yourself to tiredness, but also wondering how you will throw your idea at Yoongi the next morning. 

This is all your fault and you shouldn't have spoken when angry and annoyed. The idea of inviting Yoongi to your camping trip is not only stupid but it doesn't make sense either. To be honest, you're aware of Jungkook's dislike toward your co-worker and he didn't fail to show it yesterday either. That's why you stubbornly said he's coming too. 

“He's not even your friend.”  

Jungkook might be right about that, but you're going to prove him wrong. You will drag Yoongi there whether he wants to or not, whatever it takes. You've been determined and pretty confident until now.

You haven't even managed to fully explain yourself before Yoongi straightforwardly dismissed you during the lunch break. Not only have you been bracing yourself to approach him, you feel embarrassed how blunt and rude he is about it.

“You didn't even hear me out.” you exclaim, thanking God there are no other co-workers witnessing this embarrassing moment of you ready to beg Yoongi.

“And I didn't have to,” Yoongi shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee as he cocks his brow in your direction, silently challenging you which makes your blood boil. 

Two people have pissed you off in less than twenty-four hours. And it's not because of your period. Yes, you got it and you never thought you would be happier about it, even though there was a really low risk in the first place. Still, it calmed down your nerves and you wondered whether you should inform Jungkook about it, only because you were too relieved and excited. In the end, you decided not to because that could be potentially weird. All of this was before your argument that took place yesterday. 

“I don't even want to know why you invited me somewhere. There has to be some kind of ulterior motive for it.” He squints his eyes suspiciously at you while you roll your eyes at him. 

“I know it's weird but–”

“Fucking weird,” Yoongi cuts you off, your mouth shut as you glare at him while he takes a calm sip of his steaming coffee. “Now leave me alone so I can enjoy the rest of my lunch break.”

What would you do if you could just kick him in the ass for being such an asshole? You really want to do that and for a second you contemplate on doing that, but then you're reminded what you got yourself into. You're stubborn and you're determined on showing up with Yoongi.

“Yoongi!” you call out to him, your cheeks heating even in a bigger embarrassment how panicked you sound.

But thankfully, he turns around and doesn't ignore you. However, he looks already tired of you and he doesn't fail to not show it. Besides the dark hair that has gotten longer in the back and frames his face, annoyance and tiredness does too. You're the unmistakable reason behind it. 

Taking this chance, you rush back to him, too scared he's going to leave and leave you to your destiny and humiliation. You won't give any satisfaction to Jungkook. It's petty and childish, but you're not backing down.

Your next words are painful and you just can't believe you're saying them to Yoongi – out of all people – but you have no one else to ask. “I need your help.”

His face remains stoic, doesn't give any sort of reaction and the longer he stays quiet with the coffee in his hands, the more you feel like the floor could swallow you whole. You wish it would. The idiot is never going to live it down once you actually explain things to him. Not that you will give him a full explanation, but he won't believe you if you just tell him you want him there. Both of you know that's proper bullshit. 

“You need what? Say it again.”

Argh, this idiot. 

You swallow down your pride, still throwing him a glare before you mutter through your clenched teeth, “I need your help, you idiot.”

“Now, I don't like that. You don't call names, someone you ask for help. Bye.”

For fuck sake! 

“Okay, okay! I'm sorry,” you whine, grasping him by his wrist as he follows your hand with a frown which makes you let go. “I need your help, please.”

He studies your face, frowning before looking away in annoyance and a moment later, he lets out a tired sigh. “What is this about?” 

“I need you to come with me on a camping trip.”

“You said that before.” He points out. 

You didn't exactly say that. 

“I'm going on a camping trip this weekend, I want you to go with me.” Is what you exactly said.

“And my answer is still no.” He turns to leave but you jump in front of him.

“Can you please let me explain?” you whine, pouting which makes him scrunch his nose. You don't wait for a response, knowing he really is about to leave if you won't do something quickly. “I kinda told my friends you're coming and there's no going back.”

“And why would you do that?” He squints his eyes again. 

Poking your inner cheek, you look away for a moment in a mere embarrassment. “I got into an argument with Jungkook. He pissed me off and it somehow came out of me.”

“Ah,” he lets out, emphasizing his realization too much and it pisses you off. “So you're using me because you want to piss your boyfriend off?” 

To be honest, you completely get Yoongi and why he would never agree to this. He has no reason to. Even if he could easily refuse because of you alone, he and Jungkook haven't ended on a good note the last time you can remember. Bringing Yoongi with you could cause some serious problems and it's only now that you think of the possible consequences. As long as both of them behave, there should be no issue. 

But the guys are welcoming and friendly, they surely wouldn't be rude to Yoongi and even though he's an asshole, you wouldn't put him in that position of inviting him to somewhere where people would be assholes to him. You're not that dumb. Jungkook can behave too, as long as Yoongi doesn't provoke him but you wouldn't bet on it. 

“He is not my boyfriend,” you grumble. “And no, I'm not using you. I think. I don't like the sound of that.”

“So how would you explain my presence there if it's not to piss him off?”

Sighing, you scratch your temple. “No. I need you there because I said you will be there in the heat of the moment. And I'm not giving him that satisfaction of showing up without you.”

“Wow,” Yoongi hums, “You're very persistent.”

You only stare.

“And stupid if you think I'm going.”

“Yoongi!” you whine, almost stomping your feet. “I will do anything you want. Please. The food is free, I will pay for everything there and you won't have to pay for anything. Come on, you don't want to spend the weekend in a nice nature with good food?”

His lips twitch in amusement when you're bluntly trying to persuade him. But the pride is out of the window now. “Not really.”

You groan, “Our friends are coming too and they are really great.”

“I've got enough friends, thank you.”

“No, I meant you would have a great time there. And not mentioning you would seriously help me. I'm desperate Yoongi, if you can't see. I'm practically begging you at our workplace, throwing away my dignity. Come on.”

“I don't like camping.” he informs you, not showing any kind of interest of actually agreeing and you're seriously close to crying. He's making it difficult for you. 

“I will buy you breakfast or lunch every day for a week.” you blurt out, wondering what on earth could Min Yoongi possibly want from you. 

“A week? Is that how much my presence is worth?” 

It's not worth even an hour, you want to say. But you clench your teeth instead and take a deep breath. “For a month.”

“Hm, that's better.” he muses, taking another sip of his warm coffee now. The steam is gone, a reminder of how long this begging has been going on for.

“So? What are you saying?”

“I don't know, Y/N. I don't really want to spend my free weekend with you and your friends.” he admits shamelessly, completely ignoring your look of disbelief that turns into a glare. 

“Trust me, I could imagine my weekend without you too.” you grumble and he leans his ear closer to your face.

“What was that?” 

Fucker . He heard you perfectly.

“Yoongi,” you beg. “Please.”

He stares at you, your foot impatiently and nervously tapping against the floor as you give him a look of desperation. He has every reason to say no . 

“Add coffee there too.”

You squeal in happiness, jumping repeatedly in place with your hands close to your chest and you're close to hugging him. Yoongi winces at your disposal of excitement and relief, throwing you an unappreciative glare. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

Yoongi sighs, “Don't make me regret it.” he grumbles, brushing past you as you still can't hide the smile. 

“I will text you the details!”

“Don't bother!” he calls out, his back turned to you but you ignore him, too engrossed at your own success of persuasion. 

“Let me get this straight,” Maya stops swirling the straw, not hiding her obvious shock. “You invited your friend because Jungkook decided to invite his own?”

“He's not my friend, more like a coworker.” you correct her.

You still can't believe you've managed to pull it off. Luckily, Yoongi never came to you to cancel the whole camping trip like you feared. Still, you hope he will show up and won't bail on you last minute. He is Min Yoongi. He is capable of anything and you wouldn't put it past him. 

You and Jungkook still haven't talked since that day of your argument. What can't be said about Jimin who showed his obvious confusion, not forgetting to give you another lecture through texts. Taehyung called you both dumb but never really said anything else besides that. To say it this way, you had no one to vent to and when Maya asked to hang out before the trip, you agreed straight away.

She gives you a look, though she doesn't judge while she tries to wrap her head around what you've just told her. She knows about Ester coming, Jungkook didn't forget to inform everyone in the group chat that has been created purposely for this trip. It was two days after your argument and his message made your eyes roll. Namjoon offered to help with the tent situation even without Jungkook asking and you found yourself to be annoyed with him because of it. But you know that's stupid because he's just trying to be helpful. 

Why does he always have to save the day? 

In two days you're leaving on this trip and the closer it gets, you wonder if coming at all is a good idea. Maybe you could cancel it, fake sickness or something. But your friends would never live it down. They would see straight to your lie, not mentioning it would be suspicious as hell. 

“You guys are not talking now?” 

“No, we haven't talked since that argument. We don't have arguments like that often and usually, one of us reaches out first. But it's been days and nothing happened.” you explain, frowning at your drink.

“You're both stubborn,” Maya infers, “This is a mess.”

She causes you to groan as you want to rub your face frustratedly, but it wouldn't be worth ruining your makeup. “Don't remind me.”

“But things were fine before that, right? You guys are still…?” She trails off, doing a weird gesture with her hands but you understand it immediately as your cheeks flush. 

“Yeah, yeah everything was fine. But you should've seen him. Argh, this fucking sucks. I just got so annoyed because he mentioned inviting her all of a sudden. We barely know her, he barely knows her and he wants to play some kind of hero or something, I don't know. I simply questioned him and he got annoyed, making me feel like the bad guy,”

Maya listens attentively. 

“I mean, I wasn't a saint either. I am not a saint in this but he just got me so annoyed. The way he reacted and looked at me. Even the tone he used.”

Maya watches you for a moment, a smile threatening to appear on her lips and it does. She tries to hide it behind the straw but you catch it right away, giving her a look. “What?”

“Sounds like you're jealous.” 

You groan loudly, throwing your head back. “I am not… jealous.”

“That sounded really convincing.” she sings out and you glare at her. 

“I am not jealous romantically .” you elaborate. 

“Has Jungkook ever had any other female friends beside you?” Maya questions, causing you to shake your head. 

“No, not that I know of. No. I'm sure he hasn't. That's if we don't count Jia but she's Jin's girlfriend, well, wife now. She is also his ex's best friend but I don't think they're friends, friends if you know what I mean.”

“Ah, yeah. I totally get that,” she nods. “Well, then it's more than clear.”

You pause. “What is clear?”

“He never had any other female friends beside you and now he does. You feel threatened, therefore you're jealous.”

“I'm not threatened.” you chuckle, but the sound turns into a nervous one as your eyes widen. Are you threatened by Ester? You're sure you aren't. Your friendship with Jungkook is special. He is allowed to have other female friends.

Maya gives you a knowing look. “Maybe not completely. What you and Jungkook have… I don't think he's ever going to have that with her. But still, you never really had to share him with anyone else. Him inviting her is kinda out of the blue, but you're mainly jealous because you've always been his only female friend.”

You can't say she's far off. You admitted it yourself, you did feel jealous but hearing her saying it out loud to your face feels like a proper slap. You do regret acting like a child that evening, you shouldn't have been so annoyed at him inviting his new friend. You're not possessive or overly jealous. You never had a reason to be. But like Maya said, you never really had to share him. Not only him but your friends too. The three of you have been close since you met them. 

You've got a special bond and even though they've got more friends, you know none of them are that close.

“Do you know how I know this?”

“Hm?” you hum, taking a sip of your virgin mojito to shake yourself out of your intrusive thoughts.

“I can relate to you,” she says, “I had this friend back home. We've known each other since elementary school, we grew up with each other and I thought nothing could separate us. You know, the usual childhood friendship?” She laughs at the memory, though she doesn't sound sad at all. 

That gives you a bit of relief for some reason.

“She found this other friend in highschool since we went to different ones. She started hanging out with her more and more, I guess I felt threatened after a while. I was jealous. And I'm not the jealousy type either. I never felt that way before, but I guess it happens when you have a best friend. You get jealous, it's completely normal.”

Maya leans against the chair, giving you a brief smile. 

“We went separate ways shortly after. I'm not saying that will happen to you and Jungkook!” she quickly adds. “But we grew out of each other, I guess. What I meant to say with this, is that I felt similar and you're not wrong for feeling jealous. We're humans for fuck sake. Sometimes we don't understand each other and I see you kinda blame yourself for questioning Jungkook. But I'm sure you guys will be fine. Some silly argument won't separate you.” 

You almost tease her for getting too deep, but you know it would only be a facade to mask your appreciation for her. She always manages to ease your nerves. She understands you on another level. You usually have that with Jungkook. It's nice to have someone else too. What if Jungkook is going to have that with Ester?  

No, stop! 

“He is allowed to have other friends. I don't want to come out as possessive.”

“And you're not,” she assures you. “It's something new for you. Don't blame yourself.” 

You stare at her before a sad chuckle leaves your mouth. “You always make me feel better.” you admit, causing her to smile at you. 

“What are friends for?” she jokes, “But no really. I didn't say that because I'm your friend. I genuinely think this.”

“Thank you.”

She leans her elbows on the table, peering at you with brown curious eyes. “Tell me about you guys. How are you guys doing? Minus the whole argument, obviously.”

Knowing exactly what she means, you sigh and think it through. How are you and Jungkook doing? You're not sure great does justice to what you're experiencing with him. Reasonably, you wouldn't talk about your sex life with Jimin or Taehyung. Despite their openness and closeness in your circle, it would be weird to rave about having sex with their best friend. Even more now that Jimin knows and clearly showed his dislike.

“Jimin knows about us.” you inform her, filling her in with the latest news that involves your relationship.

“No shit!” She widens her eyes as you give her a nod. 

“Taehyung told him, accidentally but told him nevertheless. He didn't really have a good reaction to it, but I guess I expected that.” you explain. 

“Is Jimin not supportive? Or how would I say it? Understanding?” 

“No, no. He usually is,” you quickly go to defend Jimin. “He was concerned about our friendship. He just doesn't want us to ruin it.”

“Hm, I can understand that,” she hums. “But you two know what you're doing best. It's easy to judge or have a say when you're an outsider.”

Maya is right. Jimin didn't mean to hurt you in any way, even though his words were straight-forward and he didn't exactly go easy on you. The little doubt sparkling inside you is all his doing and you realize his words have cut deeper.

After all, this is something you and Jungkook talked about. You settled on having fun on your own terms, knowing it's not the most common thing – let alone it's not something you would imagine happening two years ago. But you trust each other, you're honest with each other and if any of you decide to end it, it's not going to be a big deal. This is something that is going to end eventually, you're both fully aware of that. It's stupid of you to let anyone or anything to get between that. 

And that's exactly what you're trying to voice to Maya who listens attentively and gives you a reassuring smile throughout it all. 

“I'm sure many friends or best friends sleep together. I don't think it's that rare.” she thinks out loud. 

“I would never imagine doing that with Jungkook. And it sort of happened… naturally? We weren't supposed to exactly sleep together, that wasn't the goal or plan. We just left that open. He wanted me to be comfortable with everything we were doing.”

“That's even better. That it happened naturally, I mean.” 

“Two years ago, we literally cringed every time someone brought us, dating. I mean, we're not dating but just the thought of kissing each other made us grimace.” you chuckle at the memory which makes Maya do the same. 

“Oh come on, you never thought Jungkook was a hot piece of ass before?” Maya arches his brow, giving you a look of disbelief which makes you flustered.

“No!” you exclaim without even thinking about it. But she gives you the look which makes you shift in your seat. “Okay, he was hot and I was completely aware of that. I have a pair of eyes, alright?”

Maya smirks in response.

“But I saw it differently. He was my best friend and I never imagined doing anything even close to–he was like my brother.”

“Oh, so he's not like your brother anymore?” she teases causing you to groan. 

“That would be weird if I said he is considering…”

“Ah, considering he fucks you now. I get it.” 

You glare at her, looking around to check if somebody has heard her but luckily, no one seemed to be weirded out. Thank god you chose the table in the far corner. Maya really is like a female version of Taehyung sometimes. Them and their big mouths. 

“It's weird. We have–we have sex together but in other moments it's like nothing has changed. I think that's why it works between us. We have sex but then we tease each other, and go back to being best friends. I know it sounds weird but–”

“No, it doesn't. I get that. It's good that you guys don't feel weird.” she agrees. 

“I trust no one like I trust Jungkook. I seriously can't imagine doing this with anyone else. I know he would never use me and I do feel comfortable with him.”

Maya studies your face for a moment and just when you start to feel weird, she smirks at you. “You're so whipped.”

You gasp, “No, I am not!” you argue. 

“Whipped for his dick at least.” she continues while your cheeks feel like they're on fire. 

“ Stop !”

“Hey, I'm supporting you!” she exclaims, leaning closer to you as she whispers. “Get that dick, girl.”

You hide your face with your hands, not knowing whether to laugh or cry in horrification as Maya laughs at your distressed state. 

“I told you this before. I don't blame you. Jungkook looks like he can fuck well.” Oh, she has no idea. 

“Maya!” you laugh, her lips stretching to a big smile as she shrugs. 

“What, I'm just honest!” she continues to laugh. “I don't think you would do this with him if he couldn't fuck you properly.”

At least she lowers her voice as she says this but you're still mildly mortified you're talking about this at a public place. Luckily, there's no one around you and that brings at least some kind of relief. Not that you care if some stranger hears that you get fucked properly on daily basis. But still, this is the first time you're experiencing this and you're actually talking about yourself, rather than listening to someone else gushing about their sex life. 

“Oh, you have no idea.” you mutter which catches her attention as she blinks through her long eyelashes with a curious gaze. “I've never had such amazing sex with anyone else. I didn't have many partners to begin with, but I still can compare it with my exes. No one even comes close to… Jungkook.”

Maya squeals in excitement, stomping her feet excitedly under the table with her fists tucked under his chin. “Tell me more!”

You give her a look of amusement, shrugging. “I don't know what else to say. Jungkook ruined me for anyone in the future. I'm genuinely scared of that, Maya.”

“Scared?” she questions, noticing the way your voice drops. 

“What if my future boyfriend won't be as good in bed? I know sex is not everything but fuck, with Jungkook… I really hope there's someone else with that stamina and skills.” 

“Hm, I had a fair share of exes,” she says. “I can really tell the difference.”

“No, don't say that!” you whine.

“Listen, Jungkook might be God between the sheets and all, but if you're having sex with someone you're in love with… it's just different. Obviously, you must have the spark with them in bed too. But if it's mind-blowing in bed, plus you love that person, nothing can compete with that.”

You hate how you automatically think about Jungkook and Kiko, wondering if he sees sex with his ex like that too. It's not like anything Maya said is not true. It does make sense, but you've never really dwelled on it before. But now that she brought it up, you hate yourself for thinking about his previous sex relationship with his ex. 

“I've never felt with anyone like I feel with Joon. The sex, oh my god, I never thought it could get better and trust me, my previous ex was a beast.”

You snort, covering your mouth with your palm as her face brightens. You can't even think about Namjoon and sex in one sentence. You feel like it's a sin but clearly, Maya doesn't mind to get explicit about her own sex life with her fiancé. 

Luckily, the waiter comes to grab your empty glasses when she finishes her sentence. You both order another drink plus a cheesecake as a desert. Caramel one for you, raspberry for Maya. Just when you think she's done with this topic as the kind waiter brings you your desert, she digs into her cheesecake as she bluntly says. 

“Have you guys tried anal? You should.” she says silently.

You inhale the cake in your mouth, causing you to cough furiously as Maya tries to hide her laugh. What the hell? 

“It's not for everyone but if you're prepared well, it's actually very nice.” 

“Maya, seriously?” you deadpan, lowering your voice as she laughs. You don't mention Jungkook hinting at this particular topic a few times. Now that you're thinking about it, you haven't heard him bringing it up in a long time. 

“Hey, why so shy now? Miss ' Jungkook fucks me so good '?” she mocks you jokingly, a laugh escaping your mouth as you kick her shin under the table. 

“I'm not sure if I'm interested in that… particularly.” 

“You're missing out, but you do you.” she sings out as you roll your eyes.

“I would never peg Namjoon as…” you trail off, making a weird face as Maya laughs at the sight in front of her. 

“Girl, he looks innocent okay? I'll admit that but when it comes to sex… he's anything but innocent.”

“I feel weird hearing this.” you comment, making her laugh again. 

“Okay, then. What have you and Jungkook tried? If you're comfortable talking about this, of course.”

Thank god this place is clearing out. 

Not only has Jungkook managed to give you some indescribable orgasms, the best you've ever experienced so far, but he has also shown you so many new things. And with what happened recently, the most memorable thing right now is very clear to you. 

“We… um, we tried–recently, for the first time we had sex without–”

“Oh my!” she gasps. “It's great, isn't it? I don't want to see condoms anymore.” 

You cackle at that, slowly shaking your head. It's different with her. Her and Namjoon are in a relationship, fuck they're getting married soon! 

“It doesn't matter. It was a one time thing. It won't happen again.” you dismiss her as her smile drops. 

“Damn,” Her shoulders slouch as if this information somehow affects her. “I admire your responsibility. I shouldn't admit this but I wasn't so responsible in the past. I wasn't dating some of the guys too. Obviously, I trusted them and we were exclusive. I'm not proud of this but sometimes we just couldn't control ourselves.”

Oh god. You're already having a hard time thinking about having sex with condoms. Not that it's amazing either way, Jungkook is amazing at this but the feeling of– fuck .

“Maya, girl, you're not helping.” you nervously chuckle as she giggles. 

“Has he…?” she trails off, making a gesture with her hand which has your cheeks heating up and eyes widening. 

“No!” you exclaim. “No,” you add more quietly. “We didn't risk that. I was already close to shitting my pants like what if.”

Maya hums, watching you as you nervously trace the rim of your glass. 

“Is it… how does it feel? I've never…” you admit, cheeks flushing as Maya gives you a comforting smile, silently telling you there's nothing to be shy or ashamed about. 

Clearly, she has more experience in this field and considering she has a fiancé, you really doubt they have protected sex which she actually confirmed herself just a minute ago.

“I've heard it's different for every woman. Some don't feel it, some do. It depends on many factors. I have to admit I experienced that with another guy before too, not only with Joon… but lemme tell you it was freaking good every time.”

You mentally whine, trying to get that idea out of your mind. Jungkook knew what he was doing when he pulled out. You also never even discussed the possibility of him cumming inside and deep down, you know it's better this way that it never happened. You can't entertain this idea for any longer, no matter how this has been your sexual desire too. You only came out clean trying to have raw sex. You never mentioned the next part, already feeling like what you were asking of him is enough as it is. 

“I was more irresponsible at this than you. Honestly, I don't know what I would do if I ended up knocked by some guy that wasn't even my boyfriend. I was wild back then. But many people do this. I really doubt most people that aren't even in a relationship have protected sex. As long as everyone's clean of course.” 

That's true. You heard many of your friends back home talking about this. It's one of the reasons why you've always been responsible about this. They were having sex with their boyfriends back then, all of them were clean so the only problem was the risk itself. And you're not talking about the risk of catching STDs or something. 

“You're on birth control, right?”

“Yeah.” you confirm. 

“It's worth the try, trust me.” Maya shrugs. “You said you trust Jungkook. You're exclusive and you're having the sex of your life with him. Just saying.”

“I don't know. I don't even know how he would feel about it.” you mutter, almost whining at the thought. No, no, no. You can't be thinking about this. Silly Maya and her sex experiences.

“Trust me, guys love it.”

You shut your mouth, slowly shaking your head. 

“Yeah, but Jungkook…” you trail off, hinting at what happened to him. You never talked about it with Maya but she knows, most likely from Namjoon. Everyone in the group knows by now, they just don't talk about it. Probably not wanting to make Jungkook uncomfortable, plus there's no reason for them to talk about it. It's none of their business. 

“That happens once. It doesn't have to happen again, Jungkook knows that Y/N.” Maya says softly, “I understand why you guys would be hesitant and it's totally up to you. I'm just speaking out of my own experiences.” 

“Yeah…” you mutter, taking a long sip of your second mojito. “We're arguing at the moment anyway. The last thing I want is to think about sex with him.” You don't like arguing or fighting with him. Sex is the least of your worries right now.

“Oh, you guys will make up, trust me.” she muses with a knowing look that makes you playfully roll your eyes. “Anyways, I'm excited for the weekend. We're leaving in two days. It's my first time going with you guys! What should I pack?”

The rest of the hour is spent with you talking about the weekend, though you can't help but feel nervous each day it gets closer.

Yoongi hasn't bailed on you. Surprisingly.

You don't think you've ever wanted to see him more than when you had spotted him waiting for you in front of his apartment building. Even when he bluntly ignored your greeting and insisted on going with his car instead. Swallowing down the offense once he eyes your vehicle, you're forced to put your stuff in his car.

Not that information of where Yoongi lives now changes things. However, it does feel odd to know such personal information about him, especially when he has remained mysterious to you to a certain level. You think you know him – not all of him that's for sure – but you don't know much. You're both not the type to talk about casual stuff. That's definitely weird.

Once you get inside the car, you complain saying you've already refueled your car but it gets ignored by Yoongi. To be honest, the road to the camping area is a little on the bumpier side and Yoongi's car is more suitable for it. You don't tell him that though, handing him some cash for the fuel rather disheartedly.

He remains his usual grumpy self, barely saying anything other than telling you to turn on the GPS and put the location there. You try to tell him more about the trip, feeling too awkward to just sit there for a few hours with zero communication. But soon enough, Yoongi tells you to shut up and turns up the volume of the radio. 

Annoying dick.  

You remind yourself, you're thankful for his presence either way. You really thought he would bail on you at the last minute.

You make a short stop at a gas station, Yoongi complaining he needs caffeine if he has to put up with your ass for the rest of the weekend. Not getting discouraged or letting his words get to you, you offer him a sarcastic smile as you send him a flying kiss. 

Not commenting when he brings you a coffee too, you silently thank him. You wanted to tease him about it, but the look he gave you warned you not to. After all, you don't want to piss him off.

“Thanks for coming with me.” you mutter with a straw in your mouth, dodging Yoongi's eyes as soon as they set on you. 

He has decided to sit outside at one of the tables for whatever reason — to be honest you stopped listening as soon as he opened his mouth to complain. But hey, you've kept your mouth shut for the sake of both of you.

“Hm? I didn't quite catch that.”

Even without looking at him, you can tell from his tone that he has definitely caught that and he's just being a menace. Giving him a look, you see his brows raised feigning innocence which makes you roll your eyes.

“I said thank you for coming with me,” you repeat slowly, emphasizing every word which makes him lean back in approval. “It's not like you're doing this for free,” you mutter, catching his glare before you add. “But I appreciate it regardless.”

“I'm already regretting it.” he mutters back.

“Well, you're here, aren't you?” you retort, fixing your sharp tone. “Let's just enjoy it. Everything is gonna be fine and fun.”

You do sound like you're trying to convince yourself rather than him. He keeps his eyes on you for a moment longer, probably thinking the same thing but luckily, he doesn't comment on it as he ushers you to stand up so you can leave. 

The rest of the drive is spent in silence, your own nerves getting to you as you slowly start regretting going. Why, though? Because of Jungkook and your stupid argument? That's not a reason for you not to enjoy the weekend you've been excited about. Sure, it's not under the best conditions but still. Of course, you know you will not be able to enjoy it when you and Jungkook aren't on good terms at the moment. There's tension and an unspoken argument you should talk about. Maya was right. You're both stubborn and you don't plan to be the first one to crawl to him. 

Not necessarily. Depends how he's going to act. 

With each minute and the scenery you're starting to recognize, you consider asking Yoongi to make a u-turn and drive you back home. He would surely be happy. But you don't do that. Not even when it seems like everyone is already here, unpacking and sorting things that need to be taken care of before you can enjoy the proper camping. Jungkook's car is parked there, an awful reminder of him driving your friends.

After the little show you made before leaving Taehyung's place, Taehyung himself checked on you to make sure you really are going to get here by yourself. Petty you responded yes, you're going with Yoongi and Jungkook can drive his new friend in his fancy car. And yes, you worded it out like this. 

When you step out of the car, a set of greetings are thrown at you as Maya excitedly waves from the distance while she seems to be helping Namjoon set up their tent. Even Hoseok greets you with a friendly smile along with Jin, both of them informing you they're about to cook a meal since it takes time to set up the grill and prepare the meat. 

Their curiosity and attention is shown though, looking at Yoongi as all of them greet him friendly once you introduce him as your friend. You ignore the side glance Yoongi gives you and you hold yourself back from slapping his back. Luckily, even though he seems to be his usual grumpy self, he greets them back and listens to everyone as they introduce themselves to him. 

During all of this, all the breath is sucked out of you when Jungkook comes out of the parked caravan, holding a pack of coal in his hands. He looks up, obviously acknowledging the sudden and increased commotion and additional presence. The moment your eyes meet, you're not sure how to react and there's not really a space for you to do so because much to your shock, Jungkook looks away. He fucking looks away after two seconds of glancing at you before he bluntly ignores your presence.

Everyone seems to be too busy to even notice that awkward interaction, or the lack of, yet you still feel embarrassed and pissed by the way he just acted. And it's like the world mocks you because behind Jungkook is Ester, getting out of the caravan with packs of meat in her hands as Jungkook helps her. You watch their interaction as she shyly smiles at him, thanking him for his help as he smiles back at her and puts the packs down onto the small table prepared for Jin and Hoseok. 

They're already getting to work, surprisingly engaging Yoongi in a conversation as it seems he's helping them with cooking. Mentally fuming, you consider asking him for help but you know he would just ignore you or worse. 

“That one is yours.” Taehyung informs you, pointing at the unpacked tent tossed on the ground before he focuses on setting up theirs. He starts cursing while Jimin clutches to his stomach, laughing at Taehyung's distress. 

Glancing around, you find Jungkook and Ester building a tent together. You're not sure how he sorted out their tent situation and with whom she's sharing it. Not that you care.

Watching them setting it up makes your blood boil and you force yourself to look away with a clenched jaw. Not only do you see them right in front of you, you're left all alone with no help. You're not totally incompetent, so you get to work – mentally cursing at Yoongi for not even caring about helping you, not that it surprises you. At least it seems he's getting along with the guys. 

After a few minutes, it seems like you're doing a good job but you're not quite sure what step to do next. Sighing under your breath, you toss one of the poles on the ground. 

“Need help?”

Looking up, you find Jungkook with two bottles of sparkling water, holding them in one hand, tattooed fingers wrapped around its neck.

The tone he uses is cold and it's enough for you to feel too prideful to accept his shitty attempt to help you.

“No.” You respond with the same tone, looking away.

“Fine, suit yourself.”

Your jaw drops to the floor. You watch him walking away, joining Ester in front of their ready tent they've set up together as he hands her the bottle of water. Fucking– 

You did tell him no. He didn't even greet you and now he tried to help you? If that can even be considered as helping you because his attempt was surely poor.

“Do you need help? Maya said you're struggling.” Namjoon asks, standing next to you as he shoots you a dimpled smile as you glance at Maya who's setting up their sleeping bags. 

She shoots you a thumbs up with a big grin as you put your lips into a thin line. “Yes, thank you.”

Namjoon has your tent ready in less than five minutes, you've let him do his own thing since it seems like you're getting in way more than helping. Thanking him, you finally join the others while he goes to help struggling Taehyung and Jimin.

It's when Jungkook and Ester go fetch the water together, someone already gets curious even though they must've been informed about her coming too. “Are the two of them dating?” Jin asks curiously, flipping the beef.

“What? No, they're just friends.” Taehyung answers, giving you a glance which you bravely ignore, equally as Jimin's side glance. 

“Really? For how long? I've never seen her before.” Jin wonders loudly as this time, he looks at you completely oblivious to the argument you and Jungkook had, clearly asking the question since you're his best friend. 

“For like five minutes?” you mutter pettily, hearing Taehyung snort as Jimin nudges him.

Your little remark catches Jin's attention as he looks up again, giving you a weird look just as Hoseok does the same. You clear your throat, swallowing down the embarrassment at your obvious jab. 

“Just recently.” Taehyung tries to rescue you. Luckily the guys redirect their attention elsewhere and the topic of Jungkook's new friendship is no longer discussed. 

Much to your surprise, Yoongi seems to be getting along with Hoseok the most. The two of them have been talking for hours, in fact, you're not quite sure if you've seen Yoongi talking this much. Even his grumpy mood seems to go aside as you're a witness of his grin or anything that's not a frown or a glare. At least he's enjoying his time here. Not that you're not but things feel weird with Jungkook right there when you're successfully ignoring each other.

If any of them noticed it, and you know they did, they don't question it. 

“I see you still haven't talked.” Maya says after you've finished having a quick bite. 

Taehyung just proposed to go to the lake to cool down, since the heat seems to not be coming down even with the sun slowly setting. You and Maya are inside the caravan for some privacy as she walks around the corner in a bikini. You're still wearing your clothes, wondering if you even want to get into the water.

“No.” you confirm, looking away as she gives you a pitiful gaze with a pout. 

“Maybe you should talk to him.” 

Your head snaps in her direction, causing her to chuckle as she puts her hands up in surrender. Sighing, you relax as you scratch your cheek. “I'll just enjoy my time here.”

“You better start because you've been grumpy since you came here.” Maya signs out, cackling when you toss her shirt at her. 

In the distance, you can already hear others laugh followed by water splashing. “Wait up for me. I'll be right back.” you tell her, snatching your swimsuit as she salutes you, shooting you another smirk. 

The white swimsuit you've chosen this time is pretty casual, not revealing too much but still wraps your figure nicely. The top of your breasts are shown but besides that, it's pretty decent. You didn't make the same mistake like the last time, forgetting to pack one and you put it in your bag just in case. You're glad you did.

You don't necessarily feel nervous about wearing a swimsuit in front of the guys, but there is something sitting in the pit of your stomach when you look at yourself in the mirror, trying to see if anything is peeking out. This is the first time they will see you wearing it. It's not a big deal. You're not insecure about your body, even though it depends on the situation. Regardless of that, you don't show it off. There haven't been many opportunities for Jimin and Taehyung to see you in one. You don't count Jungkook since he has seen you naked, which can't be compared to wearing a freaking swimsuit or bikini.

It does feel slightly weird to come out of the caravan revealing more skin. Maya on the other hand looks completely unbothered. Maybe you should take her as an example. She's showing more skin than you do and she doesn't look as if she cares about anyone. 

Like you said, it's not about insecurity but knowing you're revealing yourself to them more than ever. Having their eyes on you and all that… You're being silly. They're your friends and you know they're no perverts. The problem is in you but you decide not to pay attention to it any longer, the heat slowly killing you as you can't wait to get into the water. 

“You're not coming?” you ask Yoongi, finding him still helping Jin and Hoseok with the cooking.

You catch their attention, their eyes respectively moving back to their task as they start discussing something relevant to food.

“Not a chance.” Yoongi replies, scrunching his nose as he looks at the nearby lake.

Chuckling at his evident displeasure, you don't comment on it but still ask. “You're gonna be fine here?”

He stares for a moment, “Yeah, surprisingly your friends aren't that bad.” he replies shamelessly and you gasp, ready to scold him about his impoliteness because there's no way Seokjin and Hoseok haven't caught that.

But much to your shock, they cackle at Yoongi's remark. “Yah, be good to us!” Jin says jokingly while Hoseok laughs while you stare at them dumbfounded. They act like they've been friends for years. 

Giving them a side glance, you consider this conversation done as you join Maya who's been waiting for you. You both walk toward the lake, seeing the rest of the group already there. What makes your breath hitch is not the amount of naked chests and abs you get to see – even though that's a sight to see – it's none other than Jungkook himself. He's in the water that's reaching up to his waist. His black hair wet as he shakes his head, droplets of water flying around him before he brushes his fingers through it. His tattooed arm is on full display as you swallow dryly, slowly averting your gaze to Maya who's gawking just as much as you do.

“Well fuck.” 

“Maya.” you frown, her eyes slowly and not very willingly shifting to you. 

“What,” she mutters. “Joon, baby!” she calls out to Namjoon who's getting out of water, grinning at his girlfriend. 

You raise a brow at her when she glances at you with a grin. 

“What, he would understand. He’s my boyfriend and I love him .”

She rushes to Namjoon as he hugs her, wetting her dry skin as she squeals his name and lets him attack her with kisses all over her face. Cute . Hand in hand, they both get to water together as the loving couple is in their own world. Great .

Stepping closer and taking a good glance at your surroundings, you spot Ester sitting on a towel still in her clothes and a book on her lap. She's not reading though, looking at the guys with a tiny smile. A bucket hat shields her face and head from the heat.

Seeing her like this, alone makes you feel bad for her. You know your stupid annoyance and jealousy is not her fault. God, you're such an idiot. You're close to dropping to your knees and apologizing to her, that's how desperate you're starting to feel. From the looks of it, she doesn't seem to know about what happened between you and Jungkook which makes you feel better. You would feel like the biggest asshole if she knew.

“Are you not going?” you ask softly, catching her attention as she sees you pointing at the lake. 

“Ah, no. I didn't bring a swimsuit but it doesn't matter. I'm not a big fan of water anyway.” She smiles warmly.

You're not sure if that's a lie or not. Apart from Jungkook whom she's friends with, she obviously knows Taehyung and Jimin but they're not very close, she's here with strangers. Not just any woman would be comfortable wearing a swimsuit in front of others when this is her first time meeting them.

“You sure? We could borrow you a shirt or something.” you propose, her face showing you gratitude as she gives you a tiny giggle. 

“No, it's alright. I can't swim, don't want to risk it. But maybe I'll dip my toes in later. This heat makes my skin melt.”

You chuckle, nodding in understanding. For some reason, you still linger around. “Are you…” She looks at you again, tilting her head up in curiosity. You clear your throat before offering her an unsure smile. “Are you having fun so far?” 

“Oh, yes!” she beams happily. “Everyone is so nice to me. I'm happy to be here. Thank you for letting me join.”

Your stomach drops and your smile falters, the corners of your lips almost shaking. Idiot, idiot, idiot. You're so mad at yourself. She's such a nice girl and here you are, feeling like a total dick because you made a scene about her joining you. Couldn’t she be a bitch? It would certainly make things easier for you. 

“Of course.” you feign a smile, your voice tiny.

“Oh!” She lets out, patting the space around her as she searches for something until she finds it. “I've got sunscreen here. Do you wanna borrow it?” 

You mentally groan at her kindness. “Thank you, that would be great. I forgot mine in the bag.” 

She hands it to you, grabbing her book as you stare at her for a moment, the corners of your mouth threatening to turn downwards at your own stupidity. You start applying it, starting with your legs and you do that for a while until your name is called behind you. Turning around, you find Yoongi walking toward you with a displeased expression. You almost want to laugh at how grumpy he suddenly looks. 

“They've sent you guys this to drink.” Oh, right . A pack of bottles of water in his hand.

“Aw, you came all the way here to give us these?” you tease him, staring at him as he puts the pack on the ground as he shoots you an annoyed expression. 

“Stop annoying me.” he grumbles and turns around to leave but you stop him.

You hear some water splashing again, along with Jimin's contagious laugh but you grab the sunscreen again and shove it in Yoongi's direction. It all seems to be bad timing because just as you're opening your mouth, Jungkook walks in your direction, staring at the grass beneath his feet. 

“Can you apply this on my back?” 

Just as you ask this, Jungkook's head lifts up and he's literally two meters away from you as he stops next to Ester. Your eyes meet for a split second but you quickly glance at Yoongi, finding him frowning at your request and the sunscreen in your hand. Meanwhile Jungkook reaches for his own towel that you've failed to notice before. He runs it over his hair to dry them off as he wipes the droplets of water off his forehead. 

Yoongi's eyes shift between your hand and eyes. “Do I really have to?”

You're gonna kill this man. 

“Yes.” you say through clenched teeth, shoving it to his chest as he shifts backwards a little. Then his eyes fall behind you, undoubtedly staring at Jungkook before his lips curl into a tiny smirk. 

Yoongi motions for you to turn around and you do, right met with Jungkook's eyes as he shamelessly stares at your face. You're so surprised that you momentarily freeze on the spot before you shake yourself out of it. 

“You good?” Jungkook asks Ester, both of them having a conversation right next to you and Yoongi as he starts applying the sunscreen on your shoulders. 

“Yes! Thank you again for inviting me. This place is so peaceful, this is definitely better than just hanging out in Seoul.” she smiles which makes Jungkook chuckle in return. But he has the audacity to stare you dead in the eyes right after.

You know what he's doing. He knows you heard her.

“Trouble in paradise?” Yoongi whispers into your ear as you mildly flinch. 

“Fuck off.”

“I will take that as a yes,” he muses behind you which makes you roll your eyes. “Your boyfriend is not so secretive with the glares.”

“Shut up.” 

You both know Jungkook doesn't like him. Actually, they don't like each other especially after their last encounter which you're glad didn't end up with a fist fight. It seems like Yoongi finds it amusing. He is a little shit after all, maybe he's enjoying this more than you thought.

“Ow, don't be so harsh!” you suddenly scold the man behind you when he slaps the sunscreen into your skin. He's not very tender with it. 

“I thought you liked it harsh .” he jokes, pinching your hip but that's the least of your worries when your eyes fall automatically on Jungkook. What the hell is Yoongi doing?

He glares the shit out of Yoongi, tossing his towel on the ground not too tenderly either which makes Ester surprised. 

“Can you two take it somewhere else?” he questions, eyes dark even under the bright sunlight. His tone has an edge to it, though he still makes it sound as if he's asking the most casual thing. 

You can't seem to react, too stunned to speak. 

“No, we're done here.” Yoongi muses, turning you around as he hands you the sunscreen back. He shoots you a wink before he retrieves back and walks back to the camping space. 

You thank Ester for her sunscreen, putting it on her beach bag as she smiles at you, clearly sensing the weird atmosphere in the air but she tries to not react. 

“Is he your boyfriend?” she asks innocently suddenly, asking timidly as if she's scared her head is going to be bitten off.

Before you can answer, not hiding your disgust and surprise, Jungkook scoffs under his breath which makes you frown. “Do you have a problem, Jungkook ?” you say his name with an attitude which makes him rub his finger under his nose as he scoffs again. 

He faces you with a straight face, running his hand over his hair again. You ignore him, ignoring the handsome motherfucker as you turn to Ester and give her your sweetest smile. “No, he's just my friend.” 

Glancing at Jungkook again, you find him giving you an amusing expression. Fucker . You both know Yoongi isn't exactly your friend. You're not even sure how you should categorize him other than your co-worker. He finds it all amusing. He lives for your pettiness because you both know it was the reason why you invited him in the first place. But Jungkook has to give it to you. You've managed to convince him. 

“What?” you ask in a deadpan manner at Jungkook. “Actually, no. Don't answer that. If you have any problem, take it somewhere else.” you feign the sweetest smile, not hiding your face from him when it drops as you make your way to the lake.

You can feel Jungkook's glare burning your back. It's safe to say it burns more than the sun above you. 

Despite your previous interaction with Jungkook, you're trying to enjoy your time here as much as you can. It's tough, the whole situation sits bitterly in the back of your mind and whatever you do, it's just right there . Just like he is. You can't exactly avoid him, it's impossible since you're on this trip together. Whenever you look, he is right there. It's even tougher to ignore his presence, but you two do it successfully and minus the weird stares you get from your friends, nobody seems to question the tension between you and him. 

All of you get called to eat after the fun at the lake. The talking never stops, it's almost impossible with this many people and you're glad for that. No attention is turned to you and Jungkook, so it helps with all the embarrassment of them having to witness you two ignoring each other. 

“Do you guys know the gender?” Hoseok asks Seokjin, lips pursed as he munches on the food they prepared.

Seokjin just ended a call with his wife a few minutes ago. She was kind enough to say hi to everyone when he put her on speaker. That's what has sparked the conversation of their soon to be changed life.

“Ah, so,” Jin sits upright as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Jia's cousin was pregnant and they told her she's expecting a boy. Turned out to be a girl in the end,” he chuckles as do some of you. “We've known the gender for a while, we just didn't reveal it. In case–you know. It's silly but yeah.”

“Okay, I know shit about babies let alone pregnancies. But aren't those scans pretty accurate?” Taehyung asks with a full mouth, not even looking at Jin as he stares into his plate, too hungry to engage himself in this conversation more. You hide your smile. 

“I'm more interested in how you know about this.” Jimin teases, laughing when Taehyung flips him off effortlessly.

“Yeah, they are accurate most of the time but there are cases when it's mistaken.” Jin answers casually. “Anyway, we're expecting a little boy.”

The reaction is not what you would see if more women would be around. It's actually funny how the guys stay casual about it, some of them slightly gasping before nodding while the others just congrats. There are no squeals of happiness and excitement you see amongst women and the whole moment is amusing to you. Yet, you can feel they're happy for Jin in their own way as they congratulate him with wide and warm grins.

“Do you have any names?” Namjoon asks, engaging himself in the conversation as he puts more food into his mouth.

“No. It's so fucking hard to name another person.” Jin whines a little, laughing at his despair as some of the guys join. 

“You'll find the one when the time comes, Jin.” Namjoon assures him, squeezing his shoulder in support as the older smiles before he takes a sip of his beer. 

Namjoon takes the topic of conversation elsewhere as he asks about everyone's plans, not forgetting to mention he wants to go, of course, hiking. Apparently he has found a new spot and he would like to check it out tomorrow preferably. He asks who wants to join and you have to bite back a grin when Yoongi silently scrunches his nose, remaining silent as Hoseok, Jimin, Jin and Jungkook along with Ester agree to go. Maya watches him admirably, smiling at him because everyone most likely finds him and his love for nature adorable. Either way, he likes to stay active by walking long paths and mountains which can't be said about Yoongi and Taehyung. 

Either way, Taehyung likes to stay active in a different way and mountains can't give it to him. The last time you remember when you went hiking on last year's trip, he kept complaining along with you.

Seokjin goes to grab another beer for himself, silently excusing himself from the group. You do the same thing when Hoseok mentions something about snacks and you offer to go. He smiles at you in gratitude before he complains about the heat, fanning his face with his cap. 

“Get me one too, yeah?” Yoongi mumbles to you when you pass him, angling his head while he stays seated. 

“Get one yourself.” you reply, wanting to cackle when you see his little glare. Snickering, you poke the side of his head and happily jump away when he goes to slap your hand, frowning because he doesn't succeed. 

You both know you're going to get him the beer anyway. 

When you're inside the caravan, you find Seokjin opening the fridge as he pulls out a full six pack of beer. You exchange little smiles as you go gather the other things. 

“Are you having fun?” Jin asks, filling the silence as he sets the beer on a small counter, showing no interest in leaving. 

“Yeah, don't I look like it?” you chuckle, causing him to do the same.

There's a bit of silence while you rummage through a cabinet, grabbing some snacks for Hoseok not knowing which ones he specifically wants. You get one of each, some of the guys will want to share it for sure. 

“So… Yoongi,” he starts, chuckling when he sees you looking up at him, raising a brow in question.

“Yeah?”

“Interesting guy.”

That causes you to straighten up. “Did he say something? God, I'm gonna kill him if he was rude to you or–”

“No, no,” Seokjin assures you, rubbing his nose as he chuckles deeply. “He's actually nice.”

That makes you snicker and you try to hide it but there's no point. Seokjin's eyes are on you and you're pretty sure his ears are completely fine too. The look of amusement on his face is enough to let you know he has heard and seen. 

“Is he your friend?” 

Is he? You don't know yourself. Well, he's here but that doesn't make him a friend, does it? You still can't believe you've managed to convince him to come. It's not for free though. You can't forget that and fuck, you don't want to think about the next two months and what is expected of you. 

“... yeah.”

Seokjin snorts loudly, clearing his throat to collect himself. “That didn't sound convincing.” 

“What do you want me to say?” you laugh, “We work together.” 

“Oh, yeah he mentioned that.”

That makes your brows raise in curiosity. “Mentioned?”

“Yeah, we sort of played detectives on him with Hobi,” he jokes, “We were curious.”

He has a headband to keep his long dark hair off his face. It sharpens his brows and features.

“Don't worry, he was lovely.”

“That's… hard to believe.” you mutter more to  yourself.

“So, he's not your boyfriend then?”

Your eyes almost jump out of their sockets as you abruptly clear your throat. “Oh my god, no. Why would you think that?” you exclaim, causing him to laugh at your distressed face.

You actually know why. It certainly made some of them wonder if Yoongi truly is your friend only. Little do they know. It actually amuses you right after it disgusted you though. 

“Sorry, I just wondered. I hope you don't find me too nosy or annoying. He's actually nice, we had a good chat with him.”

You ignore the compliments about the most annoying person you know, shaking your head slightly to assure him that it's okay. “No, he's just a friend.”

“And Jungkook doesn't like him?”

That makes your eyes snap to him abruptly, raising your brows before you breathe out a shaky laugh. “Why would you think that?” 

“Come on, it doesn't take much to notice it.”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. The face you make causes him to widen his eyes in a mere panic, shaking his hands as if to stop your embarrassment. 

“I just meant they never talk. Not that it matters, shit, forgot I even said anything.” 

You laugh out loud, “It's fine. They're not buddies, that's true.”

He nods in understatement. ”Well, I think he's a great guy so far. Bring him next time too.”

Yeah, like that will ever happen. 

You shoot him a smile though, “Sure.” 

The door of the caravan opens, Taehyung's fluffy hair is the first thing you see. “What's taking you guys so long?” he complains before even properly shutting the door. 

“We're coming.” You roll your eyes.

“Are you gossiping here without me?”

Seokjin grabs his stuff, brushing past Taehyung but not before patting his shoulder mockingly. “We would never dare to do that, Tae.” And then he leaves, leaving Taehyung with an amused grin.

“Fucker.” he mumbles.

Laughing a little, you start gathering your things. Since he's here, you might as well use his help. But your friend seems to have a different plan because as you look up, ready to ask him to grab some of the things, you find him leaning against the wall with a smug grin. 

“What?” you ask uninterested. 

“I get it you and Jungkook haven't talked yet.”

Sighing, you lean your lower back against the provisional counter. “If you take childish remarks as talking, then yes.”

“You're kidding.”

Chuckling, you shake your head. “No. We had a little… I don't even know what to call it, banter? Doesn't sound right… Anyway, it happened when we were at the lake.”

“No way!” he exclaims, “And I missed that?”

Taehyung's grin turns even more cheeky when he sees the look of annoyance on your face. He straightens himself, scratching his temple. Whatever Taehyung thinks about this whole argument between you and Jungkook, he only shows his amusement for it.

“Did Jin ask about Kook?”

“No, not about that specifically. I mean, none of these people are blind, right?”

He snorts silently, “You and Kook are usually very talkative and affectionate, of course they see something's wrong. But hey, at least they're not putting you in a spot, right?”

“It's not any of their business, is it?”

“That's true too.” he hums.

“We talked about Yoongi,” you say after a moment. “With Jin, I mean.”

“Oh,” Taehyung sounds surprised. “He's kinda nice, no? Grumpy for my taste but none of us is perfect.” 

That makes you giggle as you nod in agreement. “He does seem to be more… relaxed and talkative than usual.” 

“God, can't imagine how he is at work.”

“You don't want to know that.”

You both start laughing. Taehyung is not clueless about your co-worker's specific personality. Not just him, but the three of them had to listen to you complaining about him a few times. You would get so heated up, that in a way it was their source of entertainment. 

“Come on, let's go.” Taehyung motions his head toward the door, but not before he goes to you and helps you without you asking for it. 

With an appreciative look, you both get out of the caravan and bring the drinks and snacks to the table. Just as you're putting it down, you lift up your gaze finding Jungkook looking sideways as he empties the rest of his beer can. He crumples the aluminum and tosses it to the bag that's intended for trash. The last thing you notice is the way he tongues his cheek, jaw sharp and clenched, before you go back to your seat.

After everyone's stomachs are full, Maya and Namjoon decide to go on a walk and explore the surroundings a little. Politely, they ask if anyone wants to join and they're met with heads shaking. You're sure they wanted some alone time anyway. 

You and Hoseok clean the small table and gather all the trash, which he goes to throw away. You've been here for a couple of hours and you've managed to fill up the whole trash bag. Ester helps a little too, before she goes inside the caravan because apparently, the heat is not doing her well. You ignore the moment when Jungkook asks her if she needs anything, attentive and caring as always. You ignore Taehyung's subtle smirk that he barely hides when your glances meet in the midst of it. 

And Yoongi? 

The man annoys you to the core. Not only has he barely moved since he came here – which wouldn't be that big of a problem at all – but he doesn't even ask if you need help when you go to the car to grab blankets and sleeping bags for the two of you. You're not able to grab everything anyway, leaving you to grab a piece of each. But when you call out his name, ignoring the little frown on his lips, he finally lifts up his ass and walks up to you. 

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“What does it look like?” you mutter under your breath, already annoyed. “Sorting out our tent?” 

The second you say that, it's not the tone you use that causes Yoongi to almost choke on his spit, but it's what you say. Then his expression relaxes and he lets out a humorous chuckle. “Our?”

You raise your brows and give him a duh look. “Yes?” you ask with an equally dumb tone. “Where did you think you were going to sleep?”

“Not with you!” he exclaims, grasping everyone's attention with his overly dramatic reaction and including Jungkook's who's showing something on his phone to Jimin. It's enough that they both look up from the device, undoubtedly hearing Yoongi. 

“Feel free to sleep under the bare sky, then.” You shrug your shoulders, dismissing him and the gasp he lets out. 

“Are you serious right now?” He grabs your forearm, stopping you in your tracks. “You dragged me here and never told me about this. I thought I had–I don't know, fucking space where I can sleep. Alone.”

“Oh, don't flatter yourself. Is that such a big deal? The tent is big enough for both–”

He lifts his palm up to shush you, currently reliving his life crisis while Jimin timidly approaches the two of you. 

“I don't mean to butt in, but there should be one space free in the caravan.” 

“What? I thought we're out of tents and space.” Confused is what you are. 

“Uh, yeah. There are two single beds in the caravan, Hobi and Ester are staying there. But Ester said she's fine sleeping in a tent if someone wants to sleep inside. Maybe she could share a tent with you?”

Jimin sounds unsure, his attention fully on your expression as you look behind him and find Jungkook staring right back at you. Irritation stirs inside you.

“Caravan sounds better than a tent, anyway.” Yoongi replies.

“Why does she not share it with her friend?” you question instead, fully ignoring Yoongi who carefully eyes you and Jungkook with his sharp eyes. You know Jungkook has heard you, your voice has grown an octave higher and he scoffs loudly enough for you to hear. 

“Why don't you share it with yours?” he questions back, your jaw almost on the floor. You catch yourself just at the right time.

“I don't like camping that much.” Yoongi butts in, voice indifferent.

“Why did you come then?” Jungkook presses, clearly showing his inhospitality. This banter causes Jin to stand up, trying to see what's going on while seated Hoseok tugs on his arm.

“To piss you off apparently.” Yoongi shoots right back and you rub your forehead.

“That's not… that's not why he came.” You try to clarify to everyone. Stupid Min Yoongi! Why can't he keep his mouth shut? 

“Not apparently, it's pretty clear.” Jungkook talks back and you facepalm yourself, just as Jimin tries to get control of this situation. 

“Alright, everyone, let's take a breather. No need for any fights here.”

“I'm not fighting.”  

Both of them speak at the same time.

“Let her deal with it, Jimin-ah.” Jungkook says and you can only gape at the audacity. 

“Let me deal with it?” you exclaim over Jimin's shoulder, glaring right at Jungkook who literally laughs in your face with that sarcastic grin. 

“Yeah. Why should Ester lose her spot because of your friend? You should've arranged it for your friend, just like I did for her.”

Both of you are so fucking petty, but you're not backing down and just as you fume, Jimin squeezes your shoulder to comfort you, but it only does so little. 

“Yeah, you've arranged a lot of things.” you sarcastically remark, seeing him stare deadly at you as he clenches his jaw. 

“God, you're like kids in a candy store.” Yoongi exhales exhaustedly. “I'm gonna sleep in the fucking tent.” He is genuinely exhausted, despite his vulgarism, his tone is calm and tired. He thinks of this topic to be dealt with, but he doesn't know how stubborn you and Jungkook are. And petty. Childish too, but he probably figured that out by now.

“I'm sure you won't mind that.” Jungkook says, causing Jimin to sigh as you start scoffing loudly, not believing his words. To some, it might be just a remark but you know exactly what he's hinting at. He's making you a payback for your earlier remark. It's back and forth between you.

It makes Jimin clasp his hands tightly. “Thank you, Yoongi. These two can be difficult sometimes.”

Not that Yoongi himself wasn't difficult. If he never said anything about sharing a tent with you, you wouldn't be here and having a glaring contest with Jungkook. And you ignore how fucking hot he looks while being worked up. But all you want is to strangle him. 

Yoongi shrugs his shoulders, walking away to join Jin and Hoseok, but you don't see their reaction. Jimin eyes you and Jungkook equally, motioning for Jungkook to come closer. He scoffs but then Jimin says through clenched teeth; “Get here.”

Jungkook glares but listens. Jimin wraps his arms around your and Jungkook's shoulders, pulling you closer to his body. So close that you can smell Jungkook's freaking aftershave and overall scent. It does make you slightly regret opening your mouth. The scent is too nostalgic and it's making you sad.

Jimin forces himself to smile as he inhales a long breath. “I can see how you two are handling this perfectly.” 

You tense. He's talking about the conversation you previously had at Taehyung's place. 

Jungkook shrugs off Jimin's arm around his shoulders, walking away with his jaw locked in irritation. You realize your own jaw is clenched, ignoring Jimin's burning gaze to the side of your face before his arm loosens up. He walks away, leaving you to your thoughts that don't last too long. You occupy yourself by finishing your previous task, tossing the other blanket and sleeping bag rather aggressively into your tent.

Taehyung comes back from whatever place he was, wearing a new shirt.

“What did I miss?” he asks everyone.

He's met with silence. 

Everything and everyone bounces back from the stunt you and Jungkook have pulled. Except the two of you, of course. It might be because they don't want to make things awkward or known , or they simply don't want a trip full of drama. That's where the guilt comes again. The idea of ruining everyone's time here because of your own drama upsets you. What upsets you the most though, is obviously your current relationship with Jungkook.

Ignoring each other has continued right after he walked away as it’s continuing when everyone gathers around the campfire. The mood is positive, alive and even pleasant. It's not different from the last time you were here, and you're sure it's not any different from all the trips they experienced together. There's chattering and laughter, whether it's in a small group or almost everyone, accompanied with more alcohol and food.

The campfire lits your surroundings, keeping you warm as the sun has set a few hours ago and there's a moon above your heads. Therefore you've changed to a pair of old sweats and oversized hoodie, looking similarly to everyone else. You and Maya have been talking alone, letting the guys and Ester have their own conversation. For once, you're glad she doesn't bring up Jungkook again and instead shows you the venue of their wedding. That's what gets your attention for most parts and you're glad from the nice distraction. 

At least you don't have to avoid the direction of where Jungkook's sitting, even though his voice always finds you as he hangs out with his friends. You don't want to wonder how it would be if things were okay between you. You would've laughed with him, or would have something to say when he talks about a convenience store snack, one whose name he can't remember but you do. 

A group of two always leave to take a shower and do their night routine in the nearby building that's a part of the campsite. You've done it the last time too. It's one of the pros of this place. You get to spend a night or two sleeping outside, while still being able to use their services. It's approximately five minutes of walking, still out of sight though since you're surrounded by nearby trees. It leaves enough privacy for you as a group. There are other campsites where you literally have “neighbors” within a few feet away from each other. You're glad about this spot the guys have found. 

Since Yoongi doesn't know this place and literally anyone else could show him, you take it as your responsibility to be the one since you're the one who invited him in the first place. You've known him the longest. It wouldn't be nice to send someone else with him. Not that he seems to care, mindlessly grabbing his small bag of toiletries as you do the same. You're not going to waste the time by waiting for him. You might as well take a shower too. 

The walk there is quiet. No words are exchanged. You look for the right words, but you can't find anything. That leaves you to be silent until you reach the medium sized cabin, showing him the men's bathrooms after greeting the elder man at the desk. 

Much to your surprise, you're the first one who finishes first. For a moment you wonder if Yoongi has already left. You somehow thought you're going to wait for each other, even though he knows the way back by now. It leaves you curious so you ask the man if he has seen Yoongi leaving. He shakes his head and continues to check through some papers he hides behind the desk. You stay seated at the small rest area with two sofas.

Shortly after, Yoongi comes out with wet hair wearing white shirt and simple black sweatpants. He spots you, not showing any kind of emotion but you would've guessed he's surprised to see you waiting for him.

“Finished?” you question, standing up as he gives you a nod. 

Walking outside, you're met with fresh air and luckily for everyone, tonight seems to be warm. The constant silence does make you slightly uncomfortable, or perhaps it's the need to say something. Anything. 

“I'm sorry for dragging you here.”

Not sure where that came from, you stare ahead as you can detect his eyes on you. Yoongi is a tough guy to convince about anything. Deep down you're aware that you had a deal and if he truly didn't want to come, he wouldn't agree to it. It's because you look back to the earlier incident and you do feel bad for dragging him into it. 

“I am not.” he replies, leaving you wide-eyed as you glance at him.

“You're not?”

“No,” he says simply. “Maybe I'm no fan of nature and camping, but it's nice to get out of the city. Besides, some of your friends are nice.”

You roll your eyes at the emphasis, knowing exactly who he's talking about. You bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from saying that Jungkook isn't bad. He is not. He is definitely not a bad person. You know you're the reason why Jungkook was never fond of Yoongi in the first place. He has always had your back, so when he heard you complaining about one specific co-worker that can be extremely rude and grumpy, he was having none of it. Then it's the obvious tension between them.

Both of them don't know when to keep their mouths shut. Not that you're one to talk. It's like they can't help it but get a rise of each other whenever there's a chance. You think it might have to do something with male ego. 

“I almost can't believe they're your friends.”

Snapping your head in his direction, he notices your glare without even looking at you as a playful smile plays on his lips. It leaves you huffing in return. 

“I guess I'm just embarrassed about earlier.” you continue the conversation, ignoring his way of teasing.

“As you should,” he hums and you gasp. “What? The two of you act like little kids.”

Like he's one to talk! “You were provoking him too, Yoongi. And don't say you didn't because you did and you know it.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Maybe.”

You huff out, chuckling at his answer mostly in disbelief. “You two are like kids too.” you mutter.

“Hold on, he's reactive too. He's not afraid to say shit. He's infuriating just as he's hot.”

You start coughing immediately.

“I'm gonna ignore that you just said he's hot.”

Yoongi shrugs with a grin, amused by your reaction and mostly the way your nose twitches. 

“Plus, you really are provoking him. I thought you liked it rough ,” you mimic his voice, “Seriously? What were you thinking?”

“I was just messing around!” he exclaims, laughing shortly after.

“It's not funny!” you exclaim back, nudging his side as he barely falters, grin still intact on his lips. “That's not just messing around.” you whine a little.

“Come on, it was worth it. The look on his face.” he continues to joke and you whine again. 

“This is not some contest of who pisses off the other more, Yoongi. It's already hard that me and him–” you sigh, “Are not on good terms. I don't want you to get into a fight. You're pushing his buttons.”

“Are you warning me?” he laughs.

“No!” you exclaim, “Jungkook isn't like that .” Aggressive, is what you mean. “But I wouldn't put it past him. You really are pushing his buttons.”

“Didn't he punch your ex before?” He feigns uncertainty, tapping his chin lightly. “That doesn't sound nonaggressive.” 

“Because he slutshamed me, I told you that.” you justify with a remember? Tone.

“Anyway,” He dismisses you. “You two should talk. Like adults.”

Trust me, I know. 

Surprisingly, he doesn't tease you when he's met with silence that says everything.

By the time all of you sit at the campfire, right after everyone went to clean themselves, you're not even sure what time it is. You've left your phone in one of your bags, not bothering to check any messages knowing there's no one who would contact you. Your family knows you're away during the weekend, therefore they won't call you unless you do. Using your phone while being surrounded by nature and enjoying the weekend from all the hectic noise, crowded places and busy traffic sounds illegal. It's nice to see others not having their noses stuck in phone screens. 

It is something you've always appreciated while hanging out with them. Not that you're against using phones, not at all. You've seen Seokjin calling Jia countless times, making sure everything is alright back home and so is she. That you can absolutely understand.

As much as you get a little compulsion to browse through the internet, anything to make you distracted enough to not think about you and Jungkook. You've decided not to do that. There are other ways of not acknowledging him, even though it's been hard.

It seems like everyone has told you to talk to him. You're exaggerating. It was only Jimin… and even freaking Min Yoongi! Well, it's not like you don't know that. You two should really talk and get things right before you ruin this trip, but mostly importantly ruin your friendship. This is not one of the arguments that could possibly break or ruin it. You don't want to think about it because that possibility scares you.

But you're still hurt. Hurt enough not wanting to talk about it right now. Even if it means you and him ignore each other for the rest of the trip. It's not ideal, far from it actually. You've imagined this trip differently. He did too, surely. 

Stubbornness does the trick.

So you sit, letting the fire warm your cheeks as you laugh here and there at whatever is said funnily.

“Truth or dare?” Taehyung proposes when you're out of things to talk, having one of his arms lazily draped over his lap. He's wearing shorts, feeling too warm to wear something longer since the alcohol is naturally warming up his body. 

Of course he proposes this game. He always does. If it's not truth or dare specifically, it's always something that makes you drink more.

He must be feeling adventurous, considering Hoseok's and Jin's faces are already red. Namjoon had to stop drinking half an hour ago because the alcohol in his system was starting to show up. Maya doesn't care though, she drinks more than her boyfriend, clearly able to hold more alcohol than him. She's giggly and clutches to her boyfriend's side, who showers her with a dimpled smile from time to time. 

“Or never have I ever?” he wiggles his brows.

The horrific memories of playing that stupid game makes you open your mouth before you realize. “Hell no.”

Taehyung snickers, clearly amused by the evident aversion. “Then truth or dare?”

No one seems to share the same opinion like you, and you're left disappointed when hums and words of approval and excitement resound around the fire. Taehyung ignores your narrowed eyes and displeasure he sees across the fire, having a good view of it. 

“Great!” He's already preparing drinks for everyone, making sure everyone has one in their hand while looking excited for any possible embarrassing moments, or even drama you know he loves. He looks like a little kid on Christmas. 

You don't care, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your hoodie as you shift further down your seat. Your cheeks are warm, both from fire and beer you've drank. You're not getting tired which means you're not tipsy or drunk yet.

“Isn't it a game for teenagers?” You hear Yoongi grumble beside you, making you crack a smile. Surprisingly, he still holds his drink and seems to join the game anyway. 

Taehyung calls your name, gaining not only yours but everyone's attention. “The beer.” he chirps in, reminding you. You swallow down the annoyance as you lick your lips.

“I'm not playing.” you simply state, ignoring the eyes of others on you. No one here would judge you for not playing some stupid game. You know that. It does feel slightly uncomfortable to feel their eyes on you at this moment, plus there's undeniable surprise and even curiosity in some of them. 

“What, why?” Taehyung whines like you – not playing – ruins the entire game. 

Well, it might have. You feel like you have a lot of tea to bring to the table. Or fire, if you want to be more accurate. Taehyung can be a little shit though. He knows many things. With him being tipsy, you're not quite sure what he would ask. You've got to be careful around him.

“Because you ask a bunch of shit every time.” you reply casually.

Taehyung's brows raise in a feign offense, knowing something like this wouldn't offend him in the first place. It's the little chuckle you hear from one specific direction, one you've been avoiding for the entire evening. Before you realize it, you're already looking in Jungkook's direction as your gazes meet at the same time. He quickly looks away, clearing his throat as he takes a swig off his beer. 

When you look back at Taehyung, he pouts. “You're no fun. Even Yoongi is playing!”

“Is that supposed to make me wanna play?” You quirk your brow at your friend. 

“I heard his comment! Yet he's still playing.” Taehyung grins as Yoongi shrugs.

“I'm not boring like she is.”

You gasp, huffing beside him. Taehyung laughs, leaving you alone as the game begins.

“Y/N, truth or dare?” Taehyung asks after a few rounds. 

You've had fun, laughed at some ridiculous dares. You've seen Maya licking soju off Namjoon's stomach, leaving him flustered and all red. Jungkook has spanked Seokjin's butt and Jungkook had to do push ups with Ester sitting on his back. The last one didn't exactly leave you laughing for obvious reasons. Ester seemed to loosen up and she giggled all throughout the dare, while Jungkook lifted her weight as if it's nothing. 

“I said I'm not playing.” you grumble, pushing back the burp that wants to be let out. 

“Come on, just one round.” Hoseok chirps in, nudging you in your shoulder gently as you sigh. 

Looking at Taehyung, he gives you a wide smile that makes you roll your eyes. Everyone's in a good mood, not that you aren't, which makes you want to participate at least once. However, it's hard with Taehyung. He's the one asking you a question now. Truth or dare. None of it sounds good to be honest. You're scared of what he might ask.

“Truth.” you answer unsurely.

“Boring.” he sings out, pursing his lips in thought.

“Dare, dare.” You change your mind, not even sure for what reason but there's no going back. 

Taehyung is thinking for a moment. That's good. It means he hasn't thought it through and maybe he will come up with something simple and stupid at the same time. But when Jimin who's sitting beside him tries to help him, the man whispers into his ear as he nods. 

“Alright,” Taehyung claps his hands together. “Go on a walk with Kook.”

The humorous snort that leaves your mouth is unexpected. “Pass.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes, “It's literally the easiest dare there has been so far. Or would you rather do a body shot off Jimin's body?”

“Dude, why off mine?” Jimin reacts.

Taehyung ignores him. “So?”

“The dare is ridiculous.” you comment. 

Even Maya seems interested, nodding at you to accept the dare but you just mentally huff. 

“Don't I have any say in it?” Jungkook grumbles, and you feel how your insides clench in annoyance. 

It does bruise your ego that he clearly showed he doesn't want to do that. Which is unfair because you've shown it first, you've no right to feel that annoyed because of it.

“No,” Taehyung says simply, “Come on you two. Just ten minutes walk in the woods.”

“In the dark? Have you gone mad?” you exclaim.

“Okay, then I've changed my mind. Lick soju off Yoongi's abs.”

“What makes you think he has abs?” 

Yoongi glares at the side of your face as you giggle. “Mean.” You're glad that he doesn't let everyone know that you've seen way more of him.

First of all, you would argue with Taehyung that you've been drinking beer and you're not going to mix a different kind of alcohol. That would leave you sick and there's no need of repetition of you throwing up your guts, like it happened when you were eighteen and had to do it in front of your house, your back then neighbors as your witnesses. 

Second of all, you're actually considering it. Anything other than having to spend time alone with Jungkook. Not now. 

“I've changed my mind. Licking soju off Jungkook's abs.”

You don't comment anything about Jungkook's abs because you know they are very well there. Taehyung knows that. That little shit. 

Trying to stay cool, you let out a humorous laugh, hoping it doesn't sound flustered just like you feel. “You can't keep changing your dare, Tae.”

“That's my final dare. The walk or licking Kook's abs.” He wiggles his brows while Jimin sighs beside Taehyung, obviously not liking Taehyung's second and great idea.

“Maybe you should–”

“So what is it gonna be, love?” Taehyung cuts off Hoseok dismissively. 

You appreciate Hoseok's attempt to save you from this awkward hell.

“Just go take a walk. It's not a bad dare.” Maya butts in and you wish she would keep her mouth shut. She's already tipsy, making it sound like the easiest thing in the world. 

“What if I don't want to?” Jungkook asks, causing you to snap your eyes to him as Ester sitting beside him awkwardly scratches her brow. 

“Yeah, you heard him. He doesn't want to. Not like I want to be alone with him .”

Seokjin sucks in breath, from your peripheral vision Namjoon takes a swing of his beer.

Jungkook scoffs, “Just ask her some shit, Tae.”

“No,” Taehyung says, suddenly frowning as he glares at the two of you. “Raise your asses and go on a fucking walk. Then come back without the attitude and let us enjoy the rest of the fucking night.” 

Your jaw is on the floor. The wood in the fire cracks, almost as if it's just as shocked from his stern tone like the rest of you. You would never expect it from him. That surely left things even more tense and awkward, making you awkwardly shift on your spot. You could argue, or snap back at him for talking to you like this. But seeing everyone's eyes on you, you feel like the biggest idiot. 

You and Jungkook just managed to show more of your drama to them. Clearly everyone knows.

Sighing, you clear the can of beer before standing up. “I'm not promising anything.”

Taehyung then shoots you a thumbs up. “Just a ten minute walk, you two.” He sounds way softer now. You meet Jimin's eyes and he gives you an encouraging nod. 

You walk past Jungkook, turning around when you're out of the circle just to glance at him. He's still sitting, currently having a glare contest with Taehyung before he sighs and stands up abruptly. 

He brushes past you, but not before saying; “Let's go.”

And you follow him. Because it seems like the best idea with everyone's eyes attached to your backs. 

None of you have taken your phones with you, therefore you're walking deeper into the woods in darkness. You don't tell him to slow down while you trail behind him, trying not to trip over anything. Jungkook just keeps walking and walking, and you don't bother to go beside him, keeping your distance as you stay behind him. You wonder if he's just as annoyed by Taehyung's dare just as you. He's a menace. No, both of them are.

Of course Jungkook is annoyed. His reaction to Taehyung's dare is enough of an answer.

But still, you notice from the corner of your eyes Jungkook briefly glancing behind his shoulder, to see if you're still there. That act makes you purse your lips to hide the little smirk. It makes it even funnier that Jungkook has no idea.

Although, it strokes your ego that he cares enough to check on you. Even if you're both mad and annoyed at each other. Perhaps it's touching too, but you quickly shrug that thought away.

Taehyung has sent you on a ten minute walk. Not only is it ridiculous but it seems like the time is going awfully slow. It hasn't been even five minutes of you and Jungkook alone. The more you and him are alone, the worse you feel about how things are between you at the moment. You're mad at yourself for not wanting to do anything about it. All the emotions are too current. Despite your big mouth and the need to be vocal about your feelings, you don't like confrontations. The damage is done and making this right is not simple. You're aware of Taehyung's intentions and in the end, he's trying to help. But you would appreciate it if they left it up to you and Jungkook. Even if you're both clearly idiots.

Jungkook suddenly stops, leans against one of the trees as he also puts a pause to your current thoughts. It's the first time you truly acknowledge him, looking at him. With the lack of light, you don't avoid him as if he was a plague. 

The moon shines above your heads, making some of his features visible. Properly looking at him now, standing just a few feet away, you realize his hair seems to be damp from the shower he took. Just as you and Yoongi came back, he grabbed his stuff and helped Ester just like you did to Yoongi. 

After glancing around and staring at the trees surrounding you, he suddenly glances at you too. It's crazy how this is the first time on this trip that you're just looking at each other. Sure, there have been a few glances but they barely lasted a few seconds, eyes mostly filled with negative emotions. But now you just stare.

Clearing your throat silently, you walk up to one of the trees and lean against it as well. Staring at your feet instead when Jungkook silently scoffs under his breath. You act like you haven't heard it, though. 

“You do realize why Taehyung sent us here, right?” He suddenly asks, breaking the silence with an edge to his tone.

Glancing to your right and his direction, you're the one who scoffs now. “I'm not stupid.”

Jungkook laughs bitterly. “For fuck sake. Get over yourself. Nobody's saying you're stupid.”

“You're asking me as if I was stupid.” you remark childishly, knowing very well this conversation is not leading anywhere. Not for the better at least. This back and forth seems to not end anytime soon. 

He rubs his face, letting out a whine of frustration before he groans. That reaction makes you bothered for some reason and you glare at him. 

“You're unbelievable.” he mutters, rubbing his face again. He's frustrated. So are you, but you don't give him the pleasure of showing it. 

You stay unbothered, on the outside at least, leaning your arms behind your lower back.

“So, you're not going to talk.” he remarks sarcastically, making you mentally gasp at the entitlement. 

“Why the fuck am I supposed to talk first?” you exclaim. 

“I don't know,” he exclaims, voice full of sarcasm. “Maybe because you fucking got mad at me because I invited my friend?”

 Straight to the point. You give him that. 

“Your friend.” you laugh sarcastically under your breath. Pettiness is one of your strong traits. You can't help it.

“Yes, my friend,” he emphasizes. “Or what else is she?”

Your lips stay in a straight line. 

“I don't know, has she ever done something to you?” Rubbing the crease between your brows, you press your lips even tighter. “I'm asking you something, Y/N.” he says deeply, pressing even deeper as you shake your head in annoyance. 

“Maybe I don't want to give you an answer, genius.”

“You're so fucking unbelievable.” He sounds mad.

“And what about you, huh ?” you ask back, raising your voice. 

He pushes himself off against the tree, standing tall and broad, taking two steps before he's standing right in front of you. That makes you straighten yourself as well, arms falling down to your sides before you cross them over your chest. 

“What, because I invited a friend?”

“Your five minute long friend.” you mutter, not able to look him in the eyes when he's standing right there. But you feel the glare in his eyes and he surely has his brows furrowed.

His features relax, slowly studying your face in the darkness of the night as he lets out an amused chuckle. “You're jealous.”

“Like the fuck I am!” you deny, knowing well damn he's right. 

“You so fucking are.” he laughs, though it lacks of any source of happiness or positivity. He sounds bitter and cold. 

“I just don't see any reason why you had to invite her. I thought this was a friend's trip.” you mutter with an attitude, looking back as Jungkook outstretches his arm and leans his palm against the tree you're leaning on.

He's so close. Met with a familiar scent, you wonder if holding your breath would chase away the familiarity it holds. 

Jungkook holds his tongue for a moment before he licks his lips and chuckles. “What about you, huh? You invited someone who's not even your friend. How does that make you better?”

He's provoking you and although his words do hold some kind of truth, it only prompts your irritation. It burns through you and makes your jaw clench painfully. 

“You know what's the difference between us?” he asks, feigning softness as he inches closer to you. So close that you bump the back of your head against the tree, not able to look away from his dark eyes. His thick brows are furrowed, some of the wet strands dangling over his forehead. “I haven't fucked Ester.”

You visibly gulp at the explicit words.

He leans his head to the side, trying to catch your eyes. You look at him, breath catching in your throat when you notice the close proximity. Your noses are almost touching and the warmness of his breath fans your cheeks.

“I haven't fucked him.” you emphasize the word. You might've hooked up with him, but you didn't go all the way. You're glad you didn't, despite all. 

“So what, you only had his cock in your mouth.” he comments, your mouth opening in shock as Jungkook's thumb brushes against your bottom lip. 

You shouldn't feel this way. Despite the shock of his so-called bluntness, his proximity just doesn't do any good. Irritation and anger wants to ripple through you, but that's pushed aside as your stomach clenches in anticipation. It's true you don't know what to expect now. You're both clearly still mad at each other. Nothing has been solved and you barely talked. Could this be even considered as talking? All you've done is talk in complete sarcasm and irritation, blaming each other.

“I haven't.” you whisper just as he pulls away his thumb. Shaking yourself out of your moment of vulnerability and daze, you frown. “What does it matter?”

“It matters because he's not your friend. We both know you invited him because you wanted to piss me off.”

He doesn't move an inch. The proximity starts to feel suffocating and you don't know if you want to push him away to catch a breath, or pull him even closer. Which is crazy because you're upset, but if it's the only way to be close to him so be it. 

Jungkook has the upper hand, the corner of your lips lifts up as you look at him with mischief in your eyes. “Did it work?”

You could've easily denied it, knowing damn well he would just call you out on your bullshit. And you would continue on your lie, preferably pissing him off even more. It's the disadvantage of knowing each other too well. You both know what strings to pull to annoy each other. Just like what you did by inviting Yoongi. 

You're an idiot. You acted upon your feelings, letting the frustration get the best of you. You should've controlled yourself better. 

Jungkook frowns, but that's until he breathes out a light chuckle. You stare, eyes meeting in one intense moment as yours dance across Jungkook's face. You can't see the small details on his face but that doesn't stop. You're aware of Jungkook staring, yet you still allow your eyes to drop down to his lips. Fucking weak! 

Just as quickly you've looked, you look away at his eyes finding him staring at you. He's fighting back a smirk. “So that's it? No explanation?” he asks amusingly.

“You're so fucking irritating.” you spit through clenched teeth, but that only seems to amuse him more. 

“That's rich coming from you.” he hums, poking the inside of his cheek with tongue. 

You watch the motion, even as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Shamelessly staring at them as he sighs, leaning so close that his nose touches your cheekbone. “You're driving me insane.” he mumbles.

He pulls away, just enough to get a view of your face again before he's closer again. His mouth hovers over yours, your breath hitched in your throat as you automatically lean to him. Your bottom lips touch, almost in a kiss but it's so brief that it makes you want to whine. You hold yourself back, growing impatient. 

Talking or the previous argument is not on your mind. It's crazy how you can forget about everything, focusing on the lust slowly simmering in the pit of your stomach. Looking at Jungkook, there's no wonder. It doesn't help that there's evident tension. You just want to kiss the idiot, even if it's not a solution at all. You wish it would. 

Kiss away that annoying smirk of his, preferably. 

It's embarrassing how you lean toward him to connect your lips. You can't help the sensation within your body, kiss him in pure fury that you feel. What's even more embarrassing is how he pulls away his face, sabotaging your kiss clearly. That has never happened. Not under these circumstances. 

“You think I wanna kiss you after the stunt you've pulled?” he chuckles coldly, cocking his head to the side as you stare.

Cheeks flaming hot, you look away in distress as you press your hands against his hard chest. Trying to push him away, he doesn't budge. You frown. “Fuck off then.”

He chuckles deeply. “So what's it gonna be… will we talk or you want me to fuck you?”

He what– 

You visibly suck in breath, eyes widening as you collect yourself. “You think I wanna fuck you after the stunt you've pulled?” you ask breathlessly, no way sounding as confident and annoying as you planned. 

He throws his back, letting out a deep laugh that sounds oddly cold. “Fuck off then,” he cheekily repeats your words, causing you to deepen your frown. He leans down and for a moment you think he's going to kiss you. That it's one of those times he just teased you to see your reaction – but no.

He nibbles on your jaw instead, down to your neck. You hate how out of breath you already are. And then he stands tall again. You barely get a glimpse of his face before you're turned around. Gasping in surprise, your palms stretched against the tree's trunk. 

His warm breath fans against your ear, lips brushing against it. “What did he do?”

“Who?” 

“Your friend.” he mocks. 

“I'm not telling you that!” you manage to exclaim in distress. His hands appear on your hips, pushing your ass flash against him . Fuck. You can feel his bulge against your ass, slowly hardening. “Does that turn you on?” you try to ask mockingly.

“Fuck no.” His answers come quickly.

“Why's your cock hard then?” Hardening but details, details. 

“From imagining how tight your cunt is.”

You curse under your breath, leaning your forehead, not caring how scratchy the tree trunk feels against your soft skin. “I guess you'll never know.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Oh, I already know.”

“Don't be so cocky.” you tell him through clenched teeth.

“Did he make you cum?”

You pant, nails digging into the tree. “Does it matter?”

“Did he make you cum?” he asks sternly, arousal leaking onto your panties.

“Yes.” you whisper. Yoongi is not the one you want to talk about. You want to tell him none of that matters. 

“What did he do?” He presses again.

You keep your mouth shut, gasping when Jungkook shamelessly circles his tattooed arm against your frame, fingers playing with the hem of your sweatpants. “Am I gonna get an answer?”

You stubbornly shake your head, giving him an answer. 

Stupidly cute, he thinks. Right after he sneaks his hand inside your sweatpants, under your panties too as you feel his flesh against you. At the littlest touch as he cups you and rubs your naked pussy, you let out a not so quiet moan. When he feels your wetness, he chuckles under his breath.

“Did he use his fingers?” he asks, still rubbing you before circling your wet and clenching hole. 

“Argh, fuck.”

“Y/N.” he warns.

“Fuck, no.”

He presses his thumb against your hole, not entering you just putting a slight pressure which makes your head spin. 

“Mouth?”

“Mhm.” You bite into your lip harshly, pushing your ass against him as he dodges your attempt of feeling something more. 

“Yes?” he presses, causing you to groan.

“Fuck, yes. Yes.” you whine, causing him to nod behind you.

His hand is out of your sweatpants before you can catch another breath. Swallowing down the disappointment, you're ready to curse him out. However, just as you open your mouth you're easily interrupted by Jungkook tugging both your sweatpants and panties down to your ankles. You gasp, muttering Jungkook's name as a warm breeze hits your wet core. 

Looking across your shoulder, you see him dropping to his knees as he pulls your ass toward him. He angles your body just so your entire backside is arched for him, giving him a front view of your pussy and ass. 

“I told you I'm gonna fuck you in the woods.” he says before he bites onto your asscheek. 

You whimper, panting. “If I let you.”

“I don't know, Y/N,” The usage of your name brings an odd feeling. “It seems you're letting me.”

“Shut up oh–fuck ,” Jungkook's mouth is buried in your wetness, tongue latching at it.

You haven't touched yourself for a long time. There was never time and to be completely honest – no need to when you had Jungkook. Nothing, not even you, could not compare to the pleasure he gives you. You would rather wait days for him to touch you, have sex with you or anything that could bring you an orgasm, than do it yourself. Even after the argument, you busied yourself with work and binge-watched like TV shows. Then you got your period which exhausted you. 

Whenever you jerk your backside, barely able to endure the magic of his mouth and tongue. He's not going easy on you, grabbing your hips and holding them tight, and you in place. He growls against you, almost as warning you to stop moving. Just when you think things can't get more intense, his tongue enters you and two of his fingers rub your clit in fast circles.

“Holy shit!”

You cum on his tongue within seconds, adding it to the list of embarrassing things you've managed to do in only ten minutes. Your lungs are on fire, all Jungkook's doing as he licks off some of your cum before you feel his hands on your ankles. That's it?  

“You want more?” he chuckles, not the usual type when things are normal between you. In fact, they aren't and the distance in his tone reminds you of your current issue. You haven't realized you said your thoughts out loud. 

Looking across your shoulder and down, too scared to move at the moment, you glance at him. “You brought me here to eat me out?”

“That wasn't the plan.” he points out, “You don't deserve more.”

That makes you scoff loudly, ass bare. You should probably dress up, but his hands still remain at your ankles. “You're right. Maybe I should tell Yoongi.”

That is so fucking childish! But you can't help it. The truth is Yoongi would probably never touch you again. What you've done previously was a drunken mistake in the heat of the moment. Alcohol was involved. You can't say your relationship has progressed much since then, but you know each other a little bit more. It would surely make things even weird to even consider it. If he heard you, you're not sure if he would want to vomit or would laugh – probably the loudest you would ever hear him. 

Jungkook stands up abruptly, pressing his front against your back which makes you straighten up. He grabs the back of your neck, not too tight but you feel his hand there. “Good. Imagine me when he fucks you.”

You let out a sarcastic and humorous laugh. “You're all talk, Jeon. Thought you would fuck me in the woods.”

“Desperate much?” he laughs bitterly, “Tell your friend.”

You elbow him, enough to let him know to get you some space as you quickly pull up your clothes, ignoring how your underwear digs into your butt crack uncomfortably. 

“Y'know what?” He doesn't because you don't await his response. “When you want your cock sucked, tell Ester.”

“I will. Maybe she'll do a better job at it.” he says fast. Too fast. 

Something happens in your chest, it burns and it makes your anger rise. “You piece of shit!” You curse, venom present in your voice as you go to push into his chest. He doesn't move.

“Two can play this game, Y/N.” he reminds you. 

You glare, watching the way he swipes his bottom lip with his thumb, putting the pad of it into his mouth. All while his eyes stay on you. 

“Is this game to you?” you ask in disbelief. 

He drops his hand in annoyance and rolls his eyes. “You're the one who started to threaten me with your co-worker.” he points out. 

“Threaten you? Please.” you scoff dramatically. 

Suddenly, your jaw is cupped and grabbed harshly as he presses you into the tree again. “You want me to fuck you?”

You gulp, mentally scolding yourself for feeling aroused by such a simple question. You're mad. In fact, you should tell him to fuck off and leave before you still can. But you stay rooted in your spot.

“Not anymore. I will ask Yoongi, he will do a better job at it than you.” 

He chuckles, knowing that's not true and you wish you could refute the statement. But you don't want to. 

Jungkook tightens his hold, rougher than before you're turned around once again. This time your cheek pressed against the hard tree trunk as your underwear and sweatpants are roughly pulled down. You almost fall but hold yourself at the last minute, surprised by the roughness. You provoked him. Truth to be told and admitted, you want this even if it makes you out as desperate. 

“You sure he will?” he prompts. 

“Mhm,” Is all you manage to mumble back. 

“Does he know you're my little slut?”

“I'm not yours.” you pant, shutting your ass when another slap is delivered on your ass. 

“You're right,” he hums, parting your legs slightly as he cups your pussy tightly. “This cunt is.” He slaps you there, earning a long gasp mixed with moan. You're not sure if he has ever done it. The pain and pleasure shoots through you and you're close to whimpering, begging for more. 

“Who said that?” You're playing with fire. But you enjoy this. 

“I did,” he laughs as if it wasn't obvious. “Didn't you say my mouth is yours to kiss?”

You did say that. You were drunk. No wasted out of your mind. But you don't justify it out loud. 

“That dirty mouth of yours?” you chuckle, hearing him do the same behind you. “Who knows what you do with it.”

“You know it.” You blush at his words. “Now, should we get back or you want to get fucked?”

“My ass is bare, what do you think?” you retort smartly, yelping when he pinches your clit. What the hell. With seconds passing, it does feel good. Argh! 

You hear clothes rustling, your walls clenching just from the thought of him taking off his clothes and getting his cock out. Fuck , you suddenly hate that you're turned with your back to him. 

Then his tip pokes your puckered hole, moving further down to separate your folds. He's at your entrance, causing you to quietly moan as you arch your ass for him. You even part your legs, hearing him curse behind you. 

You thought it's because of you, and maybe it is, that's until you hear a little groan. “What's wrong?”

Many things, he wants to say but he presses his lips tightly. “I don't have a condom.”

You release a disappointed breath. Fuck! You scream inside your head before you arch your ass again, feeling his cock against you as he lets out a pleased sigh. “It's okay. Fuck me without it.” You say it too quickly, almost as if you didn't give it a thought. 

“Fuck, you serious?” Jungkook pants, sounding out of breath from the single thought of fucking you raw again. 

“Yes,” you breathe heavily. “Just fuck me. I can't stand this.”

His answer doesn't come verbal, he presses the tip of his cock against your entrance but not quite entering you. One hand on your waist and the other on his cock, he circles his tip against your entrance and then rubs it along your folds up to your clit. Fucking hell. 

“Kook.” you whine. 

And then he presses in one movement, knocking the breath out of you. He's fast, despite you being not stretched out you shiver against him. The burn mixed with pleasure makes you press your face even more to the tree, ignoring how it stings. 

He doesn't ask anything, he doesn't wait for you to get used to his size, having him filling you up to the brim. He pulls out and then harshly thrusts in. Before you know it, his hand moves to the back of your neck. Holding you there, the other goes to the side of your ass as he gets a good grip of you. Thighs hitting against yours, the sound of your skin slapping and meeting fills up the space. You realize this is the first time you're having sex in a complete open space – the thought of that arouses you to the core.

Jungkook's pace is animalistic, leaving you all whiny and a complete mess, as your wetness gushes out of you. Even the way his cock thrusts into your wet walls is clear to your ears. Eyes scrunched tightly, you can't control the noises that ripple out of you. Your entire body is burning and there are no thoughts in your mind. For the first time since the argument, you don't think. There is no feeling of guilt, anger, annoyance and everything you've felt for the past week. You're so full of him, feeling every inch of him despite his ruthless pace as soft grunts of his own pleasure are heard behind you. 

“S-so good.” You're out of your mind, not even grasping at what you're saying. It doesn't matter that you stroke Jungkook's already big ego. He knows very well what he's doing to you – and what he's able to do to you.

“Yeah?” he pants behind you. “I couldn't tell.”

“You piece of–”

“Ow!” you whine, your skin sensitive from the third slap your asscheek has gotten. 

Suddenly, the tip of his fingers sneak between your open legs, rubbing your clit which makes you whimper even more. 

“Fuck–so close–I can't–so good.”

It's too much. His cock is wrapped around your walls, thrusting the spots you never knew you had, his fingers are on your clit adding just the right pressure while his balls smack against it too. A few more rough thrusts and you're cumming, your entire body shuddering as Jungkook groans. You're going through your orgasm, close to the end of it when Jungkook pulls out all of a sudden and cums on your ass. You feel the warm liquid covering your skin, dripping down with some of it down your ass cheeks. It's messy but so fucking hot that you hum shamelessly.

Feeling empty despite the intense orgasm, you hear a little rustling behind you and then Jungkook's hands on your ass again. A second later, Jungkook draws out his tongue before you feel the soft and wet muscle on your skin. He licks his cum off it, your mouth falling open at the amount of dirtiness behind his actions. You didn't think he could get any hotter.

He cleans you off and tugs your sweatpants along your panties up, where you take it from them and dress up. He does the same, tucking himself back into his boxers as he hides any evidence of your sinful actions. 

Everything dawns upon you, slowly but surely, once the remains of orgasm no longer clouds your mind. It's like a movie that flashes right in front of your eyes, reminding you of what has just happened. There's no regret though, even when all those negative emotions come back and you realize you haven't made anything better. Just like a bunch of teenagers, you fucked the anger out of your system for the time being, until it's over now and nothing between you is okay. You haven't talked.

You actually made no progress, which was Taehyung's last hope and the reason why he has sent you away from everyone. What are you supposed to do now? Come back there and act like everything's fine? Continue to ignore Jungkook because there's still a lot that needs to be said. Oh god , you really hope none of them went to look for you. You have been gone for longer than ten minutes. You wouldn't be able to live it down if one of them caught you. What if they did and saw you? 

Different scenarios (embarrassing ones) fill your already messed up mind. As you turn around to face Jungkook, fully clothed now, you're constantly reminded of your actions. His hair is messy, he tries to fix it by running his fingers through it a few times. The sour taste on your tongue and the clench in your chest defines the disappointment you feel. Disappointed at yourself. Since when the hell do you solve your problems by having sex? Angry sex at that. And you solved a major shit.

Sure. You remember the time when you and him had sex, rough and angry once when you were arguing. But that time seems like a faint memory. You would've guessed you got better at that. Instead, you're ashamed that this is what your friendship looks like. If you and him weren't hooking up, what would happen? Would you finally talk? Even when you didn't feel ready. You're still not, especially what happened now. 

Again, there's no regret. The sex was amazing and definitely helped with the anger (partly). However, looking back at this now, there's an empty hole in your chest. You and him are still arguing over something completely stupid. But it's not stupid enough for both of you to let it go. 

You two are fucking idiots. 

Jungkook lifts up his gaze, brows frowning all of a sudden and you wonder if he has the same thoughts, disappointed at himself for fucking you in the woods. To be fair, you asked for it. And you're ashamed how easy those words left your mouth. 

He surprises by lifting his hand, pads of his fingers slowly touching your cheekbone. “You're hurt.” he informs softly. 

You had no idea what he's talking about, but as soon as his fingers make contact with your skin, you recognize the little stinging. You touch your skin, feeling its surface slightly damaged and scratched from the tree. Great, now you not only will have memories of Jungkook fucking you outside in a darkness, but you will have an actual reminder and proof of it as well. 

Automatically, you frown and slap his hand away. “This,” You motion between you and him. “Didn't happen.”

He doesn't argue, nor do you give him a space for it because you brush past him, making your way back. Usually, you wouldn't be so confident walking in the darkness, let alone be in front but the urge to get out of here is strong. Luckily, you hear Jungkook following you, now him being the one who's behind you. 

You have no idea how you've managed to get back, remembering the exact route Jungkook has taken. Your memory when it comes to this is not bad at all, but still you're quite impressed – and relieved – when you spot the fireplace and laughter nearby. 

You know the moment you fully come back, their attention is going to be on you and Jungkook, expecting something. Analyzing the atmosphere between you two. And that's exactly what happens when all the chattering dies down as soon as they spot you. 

Taehyung's eyes are curious and a grin threatens to spread, until he notices your face. “What happened?” he asks, “Did you have a physical fight?” He tries to joke, met with a glare from you. 

“I fell.” you reply dryly, snatching your bag of toiletries. 

Jungkook plops onto his old spot, leaning his elbow against the armrest as he rubs the space between his brows. 

“Jungkook?” Jimin asks confusingly, expecting some kind of explanation from him. You act as if you don't hear him, grabbing more of your stuff as you ignore Maya's eyes on you. 

“Y/N, where are you going?” Maya asks, quietly and softly but loud enough for some of them to hear. 

“To take a shower. I'm covered in dirt and I need to clean this off.” you mutter, hearing her stand up as she stumbles. Little does she know you have to clean the mess between your legs too.

“I'm going with you.” she says. 

“No, it's okay.”

“Fine, but it's dark. Someone should go with you.”

You frustratedly scratch your forehead, groaning a little. You don't want her to question you. You're not in the mood to talk, let alone to share what has happened in the woods. 

“Stay here. I'll go with her.” Namjoon helps her to sit down, standing up as he offers you a comforting smile. 

With a tight grip on your towel, you walk away in total shame. Confused and miserable than ever.

[a-hazbin-reader]

https://www.tumblr.com/a-hazbin-reader/743280500155809792/hey-loooove-your-x-readers-is-there-any-chance

Part two? Where the nightmares have been happening so consistently for so long at this point that Alastor literally sits on readers bed with her each night and reads and comforts her? Until one night she’s having a different type of dream 😏 about him. And what type of gentleman would he be to not make a girls dreams come true? 😉 if you catch my drift.

It's been so long now so let me just-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Filthy, Straight up S E X

Description: ☝️⬆️

Somehow, you and Alastor have fallen into a nightly routine that neither of you openly discuss, but both of you understand

Alastor waits for you to go to bed, standing outside your door and following you in without even so much as a teasing look

He just sits on the edge of your bed and makes himself busy while you get ready, being mindful not to peek at you

Except he totally does, he's just good at hiding it

Makes a big show of tucking you in like a child, patting your head and pulling the blankets up to your chin

"Would you like a bedtime story along with all this coddling?"

You give him a dirty look and kick at him slightly with your feet, too tired to even feel embarrassed

"You could always leave."

He hums and examines his claws, his ears twitching as he pretends to think it over

"And let you fend off your nightmares by yourself? What sort of a gentleman would I be then? No, thank you~"

"Ugh, you're impossible."

"Shut up and go to sleep already~"

Lately though, your dreams have been a nightmare of a whole different kind...less horrific and emotional and more...romantic?

Holding hands, soft kisses, warm embraces and candlelit dates, just all the works

Something that disturbs you a little bit more than the nightmares to be honest

There's been a couple of nights lately where Alastor consistently haunts your dreams, and it's becoming an embarrassing problem for you

You spend a few days wondering if Alastor is somehow twisting your dreams, but you don't notice a difference in him

And you doubt he would actually bother doing something like that anyways 🙄

You could only hope that Alastor doesn't figure out what's going on in your dreams, you couldn't live with the humiliation

You should've known it was only a matter of time before your dreams gave you away to him

Alastor was seated next to your sleeping form on the bed, reading to pass the time when you suddenly started making noise

It wasn't the first time this happened, setting down his book, he turned to face you, reaching out to stroke your cheek softly

"Hush now...it's only a dream.."

Usually, that would work, and you'd relax again, his voice chasing away the nightmares

Except this time it seemed to make things worse, your whole body shuddering and legs rubbing together

You instinctively nuzzled against his hand in your sleep and actually moaned his name, something that caught him off guard

"Nn...Alastor..."

But that suddenly made him all the more interested in just what you were dreaming about

It was a particularly good dream though

Alastor is laying under you, face flushed and soft pants of pleasure leaving his mouth as one hand grips your side, thrusting up into you slowly, savoring the feeling

You both moan as you roll your hips again, the slow pace driving you both crazy but neither wanting to break the moment

He leans up to lock you in a bruising kiss, sharp teeth drawing blood that a quick tongue laps up eagerly before diving in to taste more of you

One clawed hand slides up your nightgown, cupping your breast and playing with the nipple there while the other digs into you hip

You grind down harder on his cock instinctively, a strangled moan escaping you as you arch into his touch, tugging at his hair when his mouth finds your other breast

"Alastor-"

"Y/N?"

Your eyes snap open to find Alastor leaning over you, his expression smug and knowing as he tilts his head

"Another nightmare? Or just a particularly good dream~?"

There's a damp heat heat between your legs and you can't help but press them together tightly, blushing furiously

"Nothing that would interest you, I'm sure..."

You try to turn away from him to save your dignity, still horny beyond belief from your dream

You hear him chuckle behind you, feel his breath on your ear as he suddenly presses close to you, running a claw down your side

"Don't lie to me, darling~ I can smell how much you want me~"

A tingle runs down your spine and you have to bite your lip when you feel Alastor nose his face into your neck and bite the flesh playfully

"Nn...who said I was dreaming of you~?"

You feel him stiffen against you, feel more heat pool between your legs at the sound of his low growl

"Then I'll make you dream of me."

That's the only warning you get before he's putting you on your back, your legs suddenly up in the air as he pushes between them

Oh fuck

You wake up feeling sore all over, a heavy arm slung over your side and you don't need to look back to know Alastor is still there

You throw his arm off of you and stumble out of bed, a slight wobble in your walk that has you blushing

Looking in the mirror, you find you're covered in bite marks that will be impossible to cover, your hips and thighs have hand shaped bruises on them

One of your fucking tits has a bite mark on it what the fu-

"You ready to admit you were dreaming of me last night?"

The sound of Alastor behind you makes you jump, giving him a glare that only makes him grin wider

You instinctively cover your private areas even though he's already seen it all now-and that he's just as naked as you are

You're trying not to look-

"Never."

He leans against the door and admires his work on you, lazily looking your body up and down

"Ah~ Well, I suppose there's always tonight~"

The realization that he plans to make this a normal thing makes your body heat up again, blushing and looking away

"You could try again right now if you think you have a shot..."

"The shower is right here~"

HERE TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT

[darkk-academic]

Prince Regent

[Aemond Targaryen x Reader]

Summary : You confront your distant husband after rook's rest.

Warning : None.

……………………………………………………………………

"Did you do it?" You ask Aemond as he stands in front of the Iron throne.

There isn't any need for you to specify what he did, no need to speak it out loud.

The new regent knows.

"I've done quite a bit, you'll have to be more precise than that," is his curt response.

Aemond Targaryen stands in front of the Iron throne, the storm rumbles above, lightning shines down upon him, intertwining with his pale skin, and all you can do is stare.

Seeking and searching, for what or whom? The friend you once had, the kindness you'd glimpsed at a few times, you do not know. Sometimes you wonder whether the friend you knew was a mere illusion, or perhaps he got carved out along with his eye.

And all that's been there is this. Him.

He's cold and distant, that's all you've ever known since he came back from driftmark. Cold and distant, but beautiful too, in a dark sort of way, much like the dragon he's so fond of—

"Aegon," you say, shaking the thoughts away, you fix your gaze on Aemond.

"What of him?"

You want to scream at his carefully crafted indifference.

You want him to be reassuring and raw, foolish as it may be, but you want it all the same because you're scared now. Scared of this war, more so now that even Aegon is down, and the only ammunition left is his Vhagar and his violence.

Because what's swords to a dragon's fire?

"What you did—"

"And what exactly are you implying I did?" Aemond asks, striding towards you with his hands behind his back.

The intensity of his stare makes you falter, and you almost take a step back before forcing yourself to still.

"Perhaps we should go someplace else for this conversation," you suggest with as much firmness as you can muster.

"I have not known you to seek me out for conversations," he states, coming to a stop in front of you.

You hold his gaze, heart racing. "Well, a conversation seemed important considering the… situation."

He tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, peering down at you.

You fluster, glancing away.

Aemond and you have not had a proper conversation since you two were little, after he lost his eye, he became withdrawn, and perhaps the friendship you'd cultivated with him got lost with the boy he once was, be that as it may, the growing distance between you and him, stopped neither the betrothal nor the wedding.

Why did you think it was a good idea to talk to him?

Because you're scared, you think to yourself, scared that you won't have anything by the time the Targaryens are through with each other, won't have a chance to maybe coax out the boy who was your friend, or to feel love, or to have everything you've ever dreamed of, but you'll be damned if you don't even try, futile your attempts might be.

Taking a deep breath, you look back at Aemond. "What you did-did to to," you stutter midway, the force of his stare rattling you. The wind blows your hair across your face, and you almost sigh in relief at having something between you and him. "I mean, at the rook's rest, what you did to Aegon—"

His hand rises up to your face, and you stop, freezing as his fingers gently push your hair out of your face, behind your ear.

Your gaze flicks towards him, confused and cautious, instead of taking his hand back, his fingers trail down to your neck, settling at the nape of your neck, and you shiver slightly at the gentle touch—

He yanks your head back by your hair, and you hiss.

"You've grown bold," he says lowly, almost soft, contrasting with his rough grip of your hair.

"Aemond—"

"Tell me, is it my negligence or your naivety that has made you so comfortable as to accuse your Regent of treason?"

There's much you can say to him, much you want to say to him, but you would rather not invoke his temper, so you settle on, "Regent, is that all you are to me?"

He raises an eyebrow, noting that you're straying from the conversation, no doubt. "If you're speaking of my marital duties, I'll acknowledge that I've been preoccupied with the war—"

"I speak of what we were, before everything," you say, cutting him off.

His lips thin into a line, as he stares down at you. "Fools, is what we were, it seems only one of us grew out of it." He lets go of your hair, and you relax slightly as he steps back. "I'll let your indiscretion pass this once, however, you'll do well to control your tongue."

He starts walking away, and you feel this desperation, a feeling you've repressed for so long now, this urgent fluttering of your heart to flee, demanding some semblance of security, safety.

Your fingers curl around his wrist. "I'm scared," you say in a rush, the words tumbling out.

He stills.

"Terrified, in fact," you continue, turning towards Aemond. "About this war, about everything, even you, for you."

He shifts slightly so he's facing you. "There's nothing to be afraid of," he replies simply, pulling his hand out of your hold, he turns to walk away again.

No, no, no—

You walk in front of him with quick steps, blocking his path, your hands come up to settle on his chest.

"I demand you to speak to me properly, Aemond Targaryen, as a husband should when his wife is afraid," you tell him, voice rising an octave, as you pin him with a glare.

He clenches his jaw, anger flashing in his eye at your impertinence. "Your audacity knows no bounds, hmm?" His hands cuff your wrists with ease, and he pushes you back as he strides forward, until your back hits the wall, trapping you in.

He lets go of your wrist, opting to rest his hands leisurely on either side of your head instead. "You demand my attention," he repeats your words. "Very well, you have it. Speak. Bare your heart out."

What now? You think, suddenly tongue-tied.

Aemond's attention is potent, all consuming, you find, it devours your thoughts and apparently your ability to form coherent sentences too.

"Go on, don't hold back now, wife," he murmurs, as he leans down a bit, his nose brushing against yours.

Your eyes flutter, wanting to fall shut just so you can compose yourself—he's so close, too close—but you force yourself not to. "Don't you miss it?" You manage a whisper.

Taking a deep breath, you tilt your face up towards his, holding his gaze, lips almost brushing his, you ignore as your heart thunders away at the proximity.

"Us, what we had, don't you miss it? We were friends once," you say, not letting your voice raise above a whisper, lest it disturbs this intimacy of silence that has settled upon you both.

He stays silent, his eye locked with yours, slowly his hand moves up, cupping your jaw, you let yourself lean into it, relishing the comfort of his touch.

"I've fond memories of you from when we were children," he acknowledges, resting his forehead against yours. "You stood by my side when no one else did, and for that, I'm thankful. You need not be afraid, no harm shall come to you, I won't let it."

He brushes his thumb against your cheek, tipping your face up towards his, your lips almost brush before he pulls back slightly, gaze roving over your face.

"But we're not children, and I've come a long way from the foolish boy I once was."

He pulls back entirely, and walks away, not looking back once.

……………………………………………………………………

A/N —:

Totally unedited, and wrote this in a bit rush, but like really wanted to write, and haven't written in a while, so apologies if it's not really good, but yeah.

Thankyou <3

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part seven)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)

Eddie takes back everything he’d thought before; sex dreams are so much worse actually, especially when you wake up to the subject of them holding your hand. His face turns bright red the second his eyes open and land on Steve. He sits upright immediately, bunching up the blankets over his lap. 

The pounding of his heart - aka the rapid beeping of the heart monitor - alerts Steve who snaps awake instantly and tightens his grip on Eddie’s hand as he asks with urgent concern, “Are you alright? Did you have another nightmare?”

“No, no, definitely not a nightmare.” Eddie’s cheeks burn, feels the flush reach his ears and down his neck too. He clears his throat. “Just, uh- just a weird dream, that’s all. Not bad, just…weird, yeah. I’m fine.”

Steve relaxes. “Okay.” He hesitates, then adds hopefully, “Was it, uh- Do you think it was a memory?” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Definitely not.” 

“What makes you so sure?” Steve asks. 

“It was fantasy.” Eddie’s eyes rake over Steve, and he tries not to wonder just how accurate his dream was. 

Steve raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Fantasy?” 

“Yeah, fantasy. So unless you have some truly awesome news to give me about the existence of dragons,” Eddie lies (better to have Steve think he’d dreamt of riding on a dragon rather than that he’d dreamt of Steve riding him), “I’m pretty sure it was just a regular old dream.”

“Oh.” Steve's face falls; and Eddie almost wants to take it all back and tell a different lie, that it had been a memory, but he doesn't. “Yeah, no, I've yet to run into any dragons yet, I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Eddie says, running his thumb over Steve's hand. “I wish it was a memory. I mean- I wish I had more memories, and I'm sorry that I don't. I'm sorry that makes you so sad.” 

The apology only makes Steve look sadder. “Oh, Eddie, no, it's okay.” He shakes his head, squeezes Eddie's hand. “Don't apologize for that. It's not like you chose to forget.”

“I know. I’m still sorry though,” Eddie responds quietly. His dream-sparked lust has since curbed into something softer, inevitably. He looks into those downturned and devastating brown puppy dog eyes. “I didn't choose to forget, but I’m still the reason you're sad - I know that, so I'm sorry.” 

It's Steve this time who mutters “You don't have to worry about me so much, Eds, I'm alright,” and it's Steve this time who clasps Eddie’s hand in both of his and brushes a kiss over his knuckles. 

It sends a rush through Eddie's whole body to feel Steve's lips against his skin - in real life, that is. Heat rises in his cheeks again, heart rate kicking up for the millionth time. “Uh- yeah, uh, o-okay,” he stutters, can’t seem to form a coherent thought or sentence right now. He pulls his hand away and runs his fingers through his hair instead, changing the subject, “Um. Are you, uh- are you sticking around today?” 

“Yeah.” Though there’s still a trace of sadness behind his eyes, there’s something like flirtation there too as Steve smirks and says, “I’m all yours today.” 

God. Eddie really is done for, isn’t he.

It’s no wonder, then, that after spending another full day with Steve, another full day of being subjected to Steve’s bittersweet smiles and friendly banter and (that is, if Eddie’s not just being delusional, which is a very real and probable possibility) the occasional flirty comment, Eddie’s dreams soon turn sappy again:

They were sitting in some restaurant, in a corner booth, holding hands behind a propped up menu. Steve was looking gorgeous in a tastefully tight polo and perfectly styled hair streaked with gold, and he looked at Eddie with that warm little smile that always made his heart glow. It overflowed; Eddie almost couldn't take it. 

He said, “I know you said you wanted to do things right, so after how many dates can I ask you to be my boyfriend?” 

Steve's smile grew, eyes wide with a sort of wonder and disbelief and anticipation that was vaguely reminiscent of a child on christmas morning. “I, uh- I think the third date is just fine.” 

“Okay, good.” Eddie grinned. He caught Steve's other hand and held it right there out in the open without a care who saw or heard. “Because I like you so so much; you’re the best person I know, Stevie, and I wanna lock this down before someone else comes along and snatches you up. I want to be your boyfriend more than anything, and I want you to be mine, if you want that too. So, what do you say?” 

Steve must not’ve cared who saw or heard either because he immediately lunged across the table to kiss him, holding Eddie's hands tight as he pressed their lips together fervently. 

Eddie certainly wasn't about to complain. He indulged the kiss for a good long few moments before he pulled back to double check, “So that was a yes, right?” 

“Yeah, dumbass,” Steve laughed, fond and bright and beautiful. “That was absolutely a yes.” 

That ache is back when Eddie wakes up, the wanting, the wishing. 

He thinks this dream falls somewhere in between the events of the last two, like his brain is turning this fantasy into a whole connected narrative now, building and fleshing out this wishful story of him and Steve. Unless… No. Eddie can't let himself think like that. If these dreams have been memories, if that had really been the type of relationship they'd had, surely Steve would've said something. It's not unusual for Eddie's daydreams to become so involved and become entire worlds. This is, as he tells himself for the third time now, just another case of his overactive imagination. 

Steve doesn't ask about his dreams again, and he soon leaves for work and isn't around much that day, but that still doesn't stop Eddie's mind from continuing the fiction when he falls asleep holding Steve's hand, as always now, that night: 

Eddie sat on Steve's couch, his arm slung casually around Steve's shoulders as Steve leaned against him and idly played with the rings on Eddie's other hand while a movie played on the TV in front of them. It was Steve's turn to pick the movie, and there was a time when Eddie would've rolled his eyes and scoffed at the suggestion of watching The Breakfast Club, but it had just come out on VHS and Steve was so excited about it and Eddie was more than happy now to sit just there and watch Steve watch it. Because Steve was smiling and humming along to the songs on the soundtrack, and Eddie felt, suddenly, with such simple certainty that this is where he was meant to be, that this is who he was going to spend the rest of his life with. 

Something must've changed in his expression, in his stare, because Steve soon rolled his head to the side to look at Eddie and asked with an amused (and vaguely confused) smile, “What?” 

“Nothing, I just-” Eddie shook his head, pressed a kiss to Steve's temple and then said like it was the easiest thing in the world, “I think I've fallen in love with you.” 

Steve laughed as if this great big relief just bubbled free from his chest. “Oh thank god,” he said. “I’m in love with you too.” 

Eddie believed him, knew it with the same certainty as before. They shared gentle smiles and a sweet, chaste kiss. Steve slipped an arm around Eddie's waist and curled closer against his side. He went right back to watching the movie and Eddie went right back to watching Steve. And that was all there was to it. 

Clear, effortless, uncomplicated. Because how could they be anything else but in love with each other? 

~ 

Eddie sighs when he blinks awake. His eyes slowly shift to the side and he looks at Steve strangely for a few silent moments. 

Steve asks, “What?” 

Eddie's cheeks tinge pink, and Steve wonders, not for the first time, what Eddie had been dreaming about. He gets a devastating sense of deja vu when Eddie shakes his head and says, “Nothing.” But it stops there where Steve's memory doesn't. 

Although, Eddie is still considering him in that weird, just short of familiar way, and Steve wonders - again, not for the first time - if maybe Eddie just might remember too. But surely he'd say something if he did. 

Eddie taps his fingers against Steve's hand and asks after a long minute. “Are you gonna be around tomorrow?”

“I can be.” Steve is scheduled to work tomorrow, but he'd call out sick in an instant if Eddie asked him to.

“Okay, because, uh, that's when the doctor’s gonna have me try to walk and when they're gonna teach me and Wayne how to take care of my wounds at home for when I’m discharged, and I, um, I want you to be there for that too,” Eddie says. 

Steve finds himself a little surprised by this. “You really want me there?” 

“Yeah, I mean, If you don't mind,” Eddie starts, rambling like he's suddenly scared Steve might refuse, “I know it's not the most fun thing to be here for, but I just figured whatever the doctor tells us tomorrow you should know too, just in case, you know, like I might need you one day and Wayne can't be around all the time and-” 

“I’ll be there, Eddie,” Steve assures him, squeezing his hand. “Of course I’ll be there.”

And so he is. He calls out of work the next day, much to Keith’s annoyance, and stands there as the room fills with doctors and nurses and Eddie's uncle Wayne. 

Eddie's mobility is tested first. He makes a soft grunt of pain as he's instructed to swing his legs over the side of the bed, and then another when the doctor taps his knee and his injured leg kicks with the assessment of his reflexes. Satisfied with that response, the doctor moves on to pressing various pressure points on Eddie’s leg to measure how much he can feel (and Steve tries very hard not to feel so weirdly irrationally jealous at watching the doctor feel up Eddie's leg). After a few more soft painful hisses that let the doctor know Eddie's nerve endings are intact - or whatever it was she was testing - he's told to try and stand. He's understandably apprehensive, hesitant. The doctor and his uncle help coax him off the bed; the competent and the familiar. Steve hangs back still, sure he's not needed for this. 

But the second Eddie attempts to put pressure on his injured limb and he stumbles, his hand shoots out and it's Steve’s name he calls, as if on instinct. And, on instinct, Steve is there in a second to grab his hand and assist in steadying him. “I've got you,” he murmurs, guiding Eddie to the walker that's been set out for him. Eddie limps a few more feet with the help of the walker and the encouragement of Steve’s (hopefully) comforting hand on his shoulder until the doctor calls it and tells Eddie he can rest again. 

Once Eddie makes it back onto the bed, collapsing back into the pillows with a haggard sigh, the doctor and nurses immediately crowd him again, try to go straight into the next step of redressing his wounds. 

“Give him a second,” Steve snaps, protectively holding onto Eddie's hand and leaning over him. “Can't you see he's exhausted?” 

The doctor shoots the only other proper adult in the room a weary look. 

“They know what they're doing, kid.” Wayne's heavy hand lands on Steve's shoulder, both a reassurance and an alert for him to back off. 

“I’m okay, Stevie,” Eddie adds. He gives Steve a tired smile and squeezes his hand before prying it out of Steve's hold. “It's alright.” 

Steve reluctantly relents and steps back to give the medical professionals space to continue. 

Eddie's shirt is pushed up so the bandages on his chest and stomach are accessible as the nurses begin to explain and demonstrate the process of taking care of the injuries. Steve watches, listens intently, wants to absorb every ounce of information so he can best tend to Eddie if need be. Then his eyes flick up and he accidentally makes dead eye contact with Eddie who seems to realize then just how vulnerable and exposed he is right now because his cheeks burn red and his heart rate suddenly increases. 

The nurses don't seem to be too worried about this - if anything, they exchange knowing glances with everyone else in the room except Eddie and Steve before they continue their demonstration. Steve isn't worried either anymore - if anything, he finally resigns himself fully to the fact, the irrefutable proof, that Robin was right and Eddie really does have a schoolboy crush on him again. 

Steve does his best to keep paying attention, but in the background his mind is spinning and his heart aching. 

On the one hand it’s kind of sweet to know Eddie's feelings are not gone completely, that some level of attraction still swirls to the surface even through the empty space in his memory. And Steve has been indulging that crush the past couple days, little comments of flirtation just to feel like he still has Eddie in some way, just to see the reaction and have some evidence that Eddie still feels something at all for him. (Stupid, selfish.)

But on the other hand it is just a crush. Eddie used to love him, but now that's halved; and that's a very specific kind of agony. 

Steve’s not sure how much longer he can handle this. 

~

Something passed between them when they made eye contact; something sweet and sad flitted across Steve's expression, as it often does, but he looked away when Eddie blushed and has been avoiding his eyes again since. 

When the nurses are done showing them how to wrap him up, Steve retreats, saying kindly, though still not quite looking at him, “I'm gonna go get you some water, alright?” 

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Eddie smiles gratefully after him. 

“Your boyfriend seems sweet,” Nurse Katie comments, carefully, as she secures the last of the fresh bandages. 

“Excuse me?” Eddie coughs, chokes on his own spit, spluttering, “I’m- he's not- we’re- it’s- um. He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Oh, sorry,” the nurse is quick to apologize. “I didn't mean to assume, I just thought since he's always in here holding your hand, even before you woke up-” 

“We're friends,” Eddie says shortly. He feels a little dizzy at what she's suggesting and would really rather her stop talking. 

“Alright, my mistake.” Katie backs off the subject. 

Steve returns then anyways, further killing that topic of conversation. He hands a cup of water to Eddie, who takes it with another muttered “thanks” and starts gulping it down while the doctor goes off on some spiel about the process of having him discharged and more tests they’ll have to do tomorrow. Eddie’s not paying attention. He’s too tired. 

Not long after that, the doctor and nurses file out of the room, and Wayne stands to leave too. “I’m glad the two of you are getting close again,” he mentions to Steve and Eddie on his way out. “You were good for each other.” 

Whatever that means. 

Eddie doesn’t have the brainpower left to contemplate that. Being poked and prodded and trying to walk took a lot out of him. He’s exhausted, achy all over. It’s barely even late enough to be dinner time yet, but he could honestly just pass out right now. He sets his finished water cup on the bedside table and his now free hand reaches, once again, for Steve. 

“Tired?” Steve asks as he catches Eddie’s hand. 

“Mhmm.” Eddie settles against his pillows, closing his eyes. He adds in a sleepy mumble, “’M glad you were here today.”

“Me too.”

He feels Steve’s lips slide gently across the back of his hand, and then Eddie slides gently into sleep. 

Immediately, though, his dreams are not gentle; for the first time since he’s been falling asleep with Steve’s hand in his, Eddie dreams of the bats: 

Eddie was in that hell dimension, the scene all black and red and dotted with bats. But he wasn’t alone. Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley were there too, the three of them fending off the creatures with boat oars, and Steve- Steve was on the ground; two bats gnawed on his sides, another had its tail wrapped around his neck. Eddie’s heart was in his throat, roaring in his ears and pumping pure fear and adrenaline through his veins. He couldn’t save him; all he could do was try his best to keep more bats from joining in on the feast. 

Steve, however, seemed perfectly capable of saving himself. He managed to sink his teeth into the bat tail around his neck, getting it to let go. Eddie couldn’t see everything, too busy whacking away more incoming bats, but when the last of this fleet of creatures was fought off, Eddie turned back around to find Steve on his feet now, holding a bat by the tail and slamming it against the ground far more times than necessary. He watched as Steve stomped down on the bat’s neck and tore its head from its body. Blood from the bat’s tail hung from Steve’s lips in a thick, dark drip before he spat it into the dirt.

Eddie stared, jaw dropped, pounding heart pumping an entirely different sensation through his veins now. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” 

Steve gave him a bloodstained grin and Eddie’s knees felt weak. He would’ve dropped to the ground in front of him right then and there if- 

“Keep it in your pants, Munson.” Robin shoulder-checked him as she walked past. “At least until we get the hell out of hell.” 

Eddie settled instead for sidling up to Steve and, after taking a second to make sure he was alright, whispering low and close to Steve’s ear, “If we were anywhere else and you weren’t injured right now…” The muttered end of that sentence was something so filthy it made Steve’s face burn red, and he laughed. 

“Freak,” Steve said affectionately as he smacked a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 

Eddie was quick to turn his head and catch Steve’s lips, locking them together in something searing and intense. 

“Boys!” Nancy snapped impatiently from a few feet ahead, which startled them apart. “Seriously? Time and place, come on.” 

Both Eddie and Steve laughed as they followed after the girls. 

Eddie wakes up a little bit disoriented from that dream. He doesn’t know what to call it: Was it a nightmare or not? Was it a memory or another fantasy? The lines are blurred and Eddie finds himself confused. 

Steve must’ve seen this on his face because he asks, “Everything alright?” 

“Yeah…” Eddie answers slowly. “I had a dream about the Upside Down…but it wasn’t quite a nightmare, I don’t think. I’m just- I’m not sure if it was a memory or not.” He hesitates, then decides screw it, he might as well try to get some sort of clarification on the reality of some details of his dream. “Did you…rip a bat in half with your bare hands?”

“I did, yeah,” Steve confirms. His expression shifts, sparking with something like hope. 

“And, uh, did I tell you that was the hottest thing I’d ever seen?”

“You did, yeah.” 

“Okay, cool,” Eddie says, reeling. “Just checking.”  

Steve is watching him almost expectantly, but when Eddie doesn’t say anything more on the subject, his face falls into something more like disappointment.

(final part is here!) taglist (CLOSED): @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (taglist continued in replies; please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. if you didn't make the taglist but still wanna follow along, you can follow the tag #dyfamsteddiefic to keep up with new updates!)

[gingerteawrites]

Undeserving - Where the shadow of the past looms over Diluc’s present

A/N: I'm baaaaaack. This one has been in the works for a minute, and has taken on many different forms, but here I grace you with a work about my OG Genshin husband. Please enjoy and let me know what you think! Not beta read

Content: ANGSTTTT, Husband Diluc, relationship troubles.

Word count: 1.5K

Diluc Ragvindr had convinced himself that the last thing he wanted on this earth was to start a family. The tale of his own being torn apart would never not be a sore wound, one that incessantly throbbed, one that he believed would never heal.

The idea of being ripped away from any sort of attachment was repulsive, as was the possibility of growing estranged from loved ones. Familial bonds were simply too sensitive of a topic. Too painful of an ache.

You on the other hand, had always dreamed of the wonders of marriage. Of a sacred contract of love and care. And after years of timid courting, Diluc did what he thought would never be possible. He gave into the new, selfish desires of your company. Of an attachment to you. Of what he could be WITH you.

Diluc got married to you, the love of his life. Something he felt was simultaneously the best and worse thing he could ever have done. It did not take too long for him to become consumed with dread of history repeating himself. The potential of all the failings of this new attachment loomed over him like shadows of the abyss.

While you enjoyed the newly-wed bliss, the joy of finally being united with your love. Your husband spiraled into more and more agitated thoughts. Yes, this union was something he had wanted. So badly it kept him awake at night. He had wanted to have you for himself. And him for you. But everything he kept inside him created a dangerous brew of dark thoughts that now made him restless.

He tried to hide this all from you. Oh how ashamed he felt. Staying at Angel’s share a little longer than usual, leaving the house before you woke up for sparring exercises, coming up with things to do when you tried to bring him lunch as a surprise.

It all came as a shock to your system. You had always known that Diluc was not openly affectionate, but he had never truly avoided you. Your romance was one of timid touches and whispered sweet words, of acts of service and long evening walks, but never of hiding and silence. It drove you mad.

You tried to be the bigger person and give him space. Afterall, you knew — if only partly— of his family’s woes and him not being used to have someone so close. But after weeks of this game of hide and seek, you had had enough.

One Friday night, with your own spiralling thoughts, you ordered all the house servants to take the weekend off, and waited for Diluc, resolve hard as steel to get through this issue.

When he silently cracked the door open, he jumped at the sight of you, gaze fixed on him with your arms crossed, a single candle on the nightstand illuminating your face.

“Hey,” he greeted quietly, closing the door before he started to take off his coat.

“Hey,” you responded, lips pursed as you watched him. These were the first words you had exchanged all week.

He almsot felt small under your gaze, taking off his outer garments and gloves which he set on his dresser and turned to face you with a sigh.

“I’m sorry I’ve been quite busy recently,” he tried to appease you, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I am exhausted, shall we sleep?”

Your brows furrowed in exasperation, and you unfolded your arms.

“Not so fast Diluc.” He froze at your tone, sharp, cutting through the dry air. “Is that truly all you wish to say?” You asked, feeling yourself growing shaky with all the contained emotions. Confusion. Anger. Fear.

“What…” he turned fully towards you “What do you mean?” he asked hesitantly.

You took in a shaky breath, closing your eyes to calm your nerves. When you reopened them, you noticed your husband’s slightly hunched position, his bangs falling over his eyes. That hair that always reminded you of a warm hearth. Something to grow fond of, now looked dull in the pale candelight. And the sight made your heart ache.

“Diluc please don’t play dumb with me. What is going on?” You ask, leaning towards him “You’re avoiding me.” The words leave a bitter taste in your mouth and your lip curls in distaste.

“Did I do something wrong?” You add after a pause, the sadness breaking through your tone.

“No, no, no, it’s nothing you have done.” He jumps in, guilt gripping at him hearing your pain. It was much easier to rationalize his behavior when all he saw was your sleeping form when he left in the mornings and came back late at night. But now faced with you awake, his chest felt unbelievably tight.

“Then what is it?” You ask, steadying your voice once again.

Diluc sighed, his fingers gripping the sheets beneath him. He then raises his head so his eyes can meet yours, the curtains of his hair falling away from his face, and you see the conflict in his eyes. The pain of something he is keeping locked away in his being.

“Please talk to me.” You whisper, covering his hand with yours.

“I…” he pauses, feeling ashamed of his thoughts. How could he even justify his actions to you. “Maybe… maybe us getting married was a mistake.”

The words pierce through you like a blade, and your entire body stiffens, mouth agape, eyes open wide. You feared your ears betrayed you. “What did you say?” you hear yourself ask.

His hand reached for yours, and you jerked away before he could reach you. His lips opened and closed multiple times, like he was trying to find words.

Recovering from the initial shock of his words, and all you felt was an overwhelming sense of anger bubble out of you. “Is there someone else?” You asked through gritted teeth. The possibility would absolutely obliterate you, but you had to know.

“No, I could never.” He rushed to say again. ”Then what is this about, Diluc!?” You almost yelled, chest heaving. You did not recognize the man standing before you.

“I…” he stammered again, brows downturned, biting his lower lip. “You just deserve someone better.” He spat out, his entire body tense. “You’re just too good for me. And I am sorry it took me until now to realize it. No.” He stopped himself. “I knew all along, but I was selfish.” He shook his head. “I just can’t make this work.” He sucked in a deep breath, his voice growing meek.

Your hands fall against the mattress, fully taking in his words. Words that did nothing to quell your anger, only adding more fuel to it.

“And who made that call?” You ask, loud voice resonating through the room. He looked up at you with wide eyes. “Who decided that huh?” You leaned towards him. “Not me.” You concluded bitterly.

“But.” He says, eyes locked with yours.

“But nothing, Diluc.” You punctuated, voice firm again. “I think you are deserving of me.” You point to yourself. “I love you Diluc. Do you not?”

“Of course I do.” He adds, closing the distance between you two, his fingers finding yours again. “I just don’t want this to end badly. I don’t want us to end badly.” He confesses.

“But don’t you think we’re worth the risk?” You ask, searching his eyes. “Don’t you think that our love is worth trying?” You emphasize.

He looks down at your linked fingers before his gaze returns to you. “I am a weak man. Weaker than I look, certainly. I’m scared of losing you.”

“So you decide to push me away?” You ask in disbelief, to which he stays silent. “Then I refuse to go. We are going to make this work, whether you believe you are strong enough for it or not.” You conclude.

Diluc looks at you, your eyes shining with determination and unshed tears. A testament to your own strenght. An announcement of his own weakness. How could he be Mondstat’s defender, working to uphold the foundation of his city if he could not work for you. The realization sunk into his stomach with a nauseating weight. He was chosing the easy way out. He was hurting you and himself because of fear.

“I am sorry.” He chokes out, pulling you into him, engulfing you in his warmth for a hug. “I really am not deserving of you.” He adds, his voice trembling as he buried his head into your neck.

“Just promise.” You wrap your arms around him “Promise you’ll try.”

He pulls away from you, his hands moving up to hold your cheeks, his eyes burning with new certainty, new determination. “I swear to you.” His thumbs move in circles against your skin, wiping away your tears that have started to fall. “I promise. I stake my life on this. On us.” And he brings his lips to yours to seal this commitment. The past was dark and seemed all-engulfing, but he would not let it overshadow this present with you.

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