#but of course the youngest is still as sick as i am

[sourtomatola]

Want desperately to draw, but sooooooo sick...

[pedrospatch]

fall into temptation | three

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 10k

a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.

Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”

“What’s she doing holding his hand?”

“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”

Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.

His shoulders were squared back, his head held high. 

Solid. Steady.

Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?

Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.

It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter. 

His youngest daughter. 

Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.

“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”

“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”

“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”

“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”

Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.

Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.

Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.

“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”

“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.

“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.

The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.

Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”

Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”

Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.

“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”

Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.

If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.

Not after Joel Miller was through with him.

Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.

Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?

“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”

Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”

“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”

Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”

You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.

“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”

Behind you, Joel stood silent and still. 

Watching. Observing. Waiting.

He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.

“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.

He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”

Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit. 

It caused something inside of you to finally give way.

Snap.

The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”

For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”

It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.

It was your father.

Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.

Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.

Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.

“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”

Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”

That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”

“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.

Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”

Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.

“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”

Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”

His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”

The first thing he did was light the fireplace.

“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”

“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.

Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”

Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.

“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”

“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”

“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”

Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”

His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.

Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”

Of course not.

You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none. 

Still. 

The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.

Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.

Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.

No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.

He wouldn’t believe them.

“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”

Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”

The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation. 

There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”

No. That’s not what you wanted.

You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him. 

But that freedom came with a high, high price.

You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?

“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.

“What?”

“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”

Confused, all you could do was stare at him.

“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”

Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.

“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”

“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”

His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.

He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”

“What is it, darlin’ girl?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.

You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.

“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?

“You’re not taking advantage of me.”

“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”

“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”

His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.

“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”

Christ.

No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.

With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.

“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.

Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”

All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.

With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.

Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”

His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.

With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.

Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.

Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.

“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.

“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.

“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.

“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.

“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”

Yours.

Yours, yours, yours.

Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”

“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”

“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”

Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.

Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”

You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.

“Yeah? Y’trust me?”

Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”

Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”

Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told. 

He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.

“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.

You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.

Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”

Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.

“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”

You whimpered. “Yes.”

“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”

Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.

Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.

Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.

You opened wider. “Please.”

“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.

“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”

Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.

Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?

“Oh God.”

You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.

Not when something this sinful was being done to you.

Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.

“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”

Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.

Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.

Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.

Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs. 

Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.

Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”

Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.

If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.

The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.

Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”

Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.

“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.

He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”

Surely, you would be the death of him.

He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?

There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”

And you did.

Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.

“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”

You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.

Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”

With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”

“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.

It was the second time you’d uttered His name.

Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.

“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.

He was getting closer and closer.

Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.

“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”

No way he could live his life without you now.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than you needed him.

Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.

“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.

His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”

Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.

He was begging you.

Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?

“Joel,” you choked.

“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”

Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.  

Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”

He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”

Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.

Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”

Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.

Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what, Joel?”

There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”

Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”

“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.

“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”

“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”

“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”

You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.

The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.

Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.

The nerves began to set in.

Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.

With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.

He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.

You could have laughed. You almost did.

“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”

“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”

“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.

His chest swelled with warmth.

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.

He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”

He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you wore underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.

“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”

He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.

He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”

Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.

I’ve got you.

divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍

[jimblejamblewritings]

love letters and second sons | part 1.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Author's Note: Hello! Yes, I'm here with a wip before finishing my other stuff. The Bridgerton girlies have got me. Congratulations to you all. So before you read this, please read: I Hate Accidents by @i-hate-accidents AND Over The Garden Wall by @homeofthepeculiar AND The Ultimate Deception by @maximoff-pan. These stories are some of my favorites and really inspired this fic.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Author's Note: To those who have read my other works, you'll notice that the author Mercutio's stories are something special

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

I am pleased to welcome you all to the start of another social season. Of course, people love and look for love all year round but each year the season just seems to invite love to blossom. I hope all of you find the match to your souls. Marriage is a business but can it not have love as well? A business built with love surely must be a business that tries to last. I ask our respectful citizens and subjects of the United Kingdom to make love a part of their search. 

I would also like to ask about businesses that do not involve marriage or love. How are you? In the business of health, is everyone safe from all sickness? In the business of finance, does everyone have enough to eat and clothe themselves without falling into poverty? Are businesses afloat even if only by a small margin? How are you? Truly, I want to know. If you would like to write to me, please do so. The royal mailboxes should still be in perfect condition. 

Of course, if you have something urgent then I am sorry but you must come to the palace and request an audience. My valets hold all letters for a day or a few out of safety for everyone. But rest assured, I read every letter once received. 

I would also like to say that I can feel the winds of the ton calling me to grace their presence and to stop being rude by ignoring them. Naturally, the wind is very rude to say this and then cut through my dress and chill my bones even when it is snowing. But I digress, the wind is right. The time for introduction must be soon. And a lovely time that will be. I cannot wait to meet you all. 

Yours truly, 

A Not So Young Anymore Youngest Princess Y/N Hanover (Truly, I need a proper surname and not just the name of my father’s house)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

Would you like to know what I have learned yesterday? I know the Americas are still a touchy subject for some but I hope you don’t mind me talking about it, just to share my studies. Philadelphia is the center of American debate. So many great men (and women that have probably gone unnamed but aided their counterparts in their quest of education) have lived and are currently still living there. 

Going to America simply for a debate sounds terribly dreadful. But what if we had one here that wasn’t relegated to just the universities. An entire city becoming a center of debate seems incredibly foolish, not to mention disruptive to its current residents, but buildings of debate do not seem like a bad idea. 

Even if some feel like they aren’t smart enough, they should participate. Ideas are nurtured by sharing them. May some debates lead to great compromise and understanding and maybe even propositions for laws. 

I, for one, debate with my father every day on which science is the most important to teach to young children and which science can wait until university should they like to pursue that path. He believes all of it. I believe that medicinal science is too much for a young mind and they only need to be taught how to mind their health until they can understand better. What do you think? I am delighted to hear your opinions. Maybe mine will be swayed. 

Yours Truly,

Youngest Princess Y/N Buckingham (I am trying out new surnames until one I like sticks)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

I apologize if my stance may be radical but nothing in society ever got done if the start wasn’t a little radical. I believe that young women should be properly taught about relations… let me just say it, sex. Not when they are children, no, but when they are about to debut. Consider it. You all know that as a royal, despite being a woman, I have been taught all things. Everyone is aware that I know what sex is. But if I and my sisters were taught sex so that we may be aware of malicious advances and be able to protect our virtue first rather than waiting for our virtues to be saved by someone and risk them being too late, then others should as well. Therefore, I implore all mothers and governesses to teach their young ladies about to debut what sex is. And to fathers who may be without wives, please find any woman to teach your daughters.

I shall return with more radical ideas for a better and more prosperous United Kingdom. 

Yours truly, 

Youngest Princes Y/N Kew 

The printed letters delivered to London, had everyone enthralled in the early morning. Some people that lived close enough to the central town square didn’t bother with the prints and went straight to the wooden pin board there to look at the princess’ handwriting on the original letters. Whenever the Young Princess or the author Mercutio Quick wrote, people stopped and paid attention. 

Princess Y/N was the people’s princess. The one who listened to their complaints and wasn’t cheap on her charitable acts. She was so much like her father, Farmer George. Even with his illness he still ran a good country… when he was in charge. So much better than her eldest brother, George IV. Then again, any royal sibling was better than their eldest brother, even if only by a very small percentage. Everyday the public hoped another child would challenge George the Younger. They would rally their support behind them. 

They were hoping that any day George IV’s daughter, Charlotte, would have an heir. If she was pregnant then it would be so easy for the public to support her and convince either George IV to step down or convince Parliament to present a motion to King George. They would have a ruler and an heir. Charlotte the Younger would be the easiest transition for George IV to understand.

But neither her father nor husband seemed to care about the lack of heir. But the thought of succession and coups and duels was forgotten for a moment to read the Young Princess’ letters welcoming them to the new social season with new balls, debutantes, and drama. 

In the Bridgerton house, the family ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. They were trying to get ready to present Daphne to the Queen while also trying to read the Young Princess’ letters. Benedict laughed as he slapped his copy of the letters. 

“Mother would have a fit if she had to speak with Daphne about sex.” 

“I’m surprised she would even suggest such a thing,” Colin said as he returned to reading the first letter, thinking he might actually write to the Young Princess about his familial concerns and wanting to travel desperately but being unsure about leaving them. 

Eloise finally smiled as she came downstairs with the rest of her siblings. “I for one think it’s rather refreshing. She is right. Our mamas should be teaching us more than just how to meet the Queen… Daphne! You must make haste! Do you think she heard me?” 

Colin rolled his eyes. “She most certainly did. But on the matter of the princess, what is wrong with a woman’s husband teaching her about sex?” 

“Everything is wrong with that.” 

“Hmm.” 

He looked down to reread the paper, wondering if he could understand what the princess actually meant. Even though the letters were left at home, talk of the princess never ceased. How could it? The monarchy’s youngest princess might actually be joining them. Everyone wanted to know what she would look like, not in the face of course. Even her fourth brother didn’t take off his mask until after five months of being introduced to society and he was the shortest time it took to see the royal children’s face. 

“Do you think she will be tall like her eldest sister or short? Plump?” Eloise asked as their carriages started their way towards the palace. “I’d imagine I’d be very lovely and plump if I could be stuck in a palace all day with the most wonderful food imaginable. Not that anyone should ever value a woman based on her body but Penelope has stated that her sisters are terribly upset because all the dress makers have started saying that plump is going to be in fashion once again in only a few years time and by the time they become plump it’ll be out of fashion again.” 

Daphne looked out the window. “I wonder if she’ll look like the Queen or the King. Oh, what makeup do you think she’ll wear? What mask did she have created for herself? When do you think we’ll actually see her face?” 

Violet touched the knees of all her girls. “Whatever she is like, do not be rude and gawk. The poor thing will already have the vultures’ eyes on her all night. If she even comes out tonight. Perhaps it will be at a ball this week. That would be quite a fantastic introduction. I do hope she at least meets us this season.” 

Francesca smiled. “I imagine her dance card would be quite full.” 

“She’d have bracelets of dance cards going up to her arm,” Daphne agreed.  

“But she isn’t coming into society yet. She’s just introducing herself to us,” Eloise said. 

“She’s still a princess royal. A very well-known one at that. There’s no way the men would pass on an opportunity to dance with her. They’d want to start making their intentions known now, get ahead of everyone else.” 

The boys’ carriage was speaking of a different matter entirely. The princess and Mercutio had written to the ton at the same time. With the presentation to the Queen taking up so much of the day, most people wouldn’t be able to read his work until later that evening. Colin and Benedict simply couldn’t wait. Colin sat with his brother as he drove the carriage and read the story out loud: 

“Arsehole,” Cecilia muttered. 

Ignoring the sharp stinging of her backside, she hopped off the bed to find something to put on. All she needed to accomplish was getting back to her room, clothed. She knew there must have been some spare clothes in their dressers. It was just a matter of sorting through which garments were hers and which belonged to the others. She had been sorely mistaken to ignore the three members of nobility behind her, thinking they hadn’t heard her. 

Lovell scrunched up his face, resembling a rat. “Is receiving another punishment something you really care for? Because this attitude you’ve acquired is going to earn you one.” 

“Piss off.” 

“Is that any way to talk to your dominants?” Madison asked, adjusting herself in Tommy’s arms. 

Cecilia scoffed as she walked towards the door, placing one hand on the doorknob. “Lavender.” 

The other three faces fell at the use of that forbidden word. Cecilia’s hand reached up ever so gently and wiped away tears. She wondered if the tears were for her former lovers or for finally realizing her mind was deluded to think she would be with anyone above her station such as Lovell. 

“I don’t want this anymore.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“You never believe that I don’t enjoy breaking our established rules. You only listen to Madison.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“It is clear you both like her more than you desire me. I am down.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“You shall see me around this manor, doing my job as I always have. But that is the extent of our relationship.” 

“Please, just give u—” 

“Good day, Lord Parham. Lord Newall, Lady Wilcher.” 

“Riveting,” Colin said as he finished reading. “Mr. Mercutio has done it again.” 

Benedict nodded. “Indeed he has. I was a bit worried when he announced that he wanted to dabble in the themes of erotic pleasures in his stories but this was just as enjoyable as all the others.”

“Agree… Oh, it says here that they have earned a publishing deal. The penny stories will still come out once a week, chapter by chapter but readers can also purchase a book if they would like to keep the story properly or are in a rush to read it. I for one will be buying the books.” 

“I second that.” 

“I wonder what his next story will be about. Actually, no, I wonder what our dear sisters and mothers can be talking about.” 

“The princess, no doubt.”

”Do you think any of our brothers will approach?” Eloise asked in the women’s carriage, more to herself than anything. 

That made Hyacinth’s face light up. “If one of them marries the princess does that mean we get to be princesses too?” 

“As if any of our brothers even could or want to.” Francesca pulled her face away from the window.

“If anyone is going to bring them to the marriage mart,” Daphne started as she fanned herself. “It would be the princess. Anthony would be a good match for her.” 

Violet laughed, thinking of the idea. “A viscount and a princess are a perfect match.” 

All talk of the princess stopped as they approached. The worst thing that could happen could be a footman overhearing them and mistaking their speech for malicious gossip rather than light-natured and report it to the princess or the queen or even worse, King George himself. They would forever be ostracized from society. 

From upstairs, you watched from a window where you knew no one could see you even if they looked up. How you desperately wanted to be down there. All the men were dressed up and looking like penguins. Handsome they were but still penguin-like in silhouette. And the women’s dresses. Some, while upper class, were of a lower social standing and wore older dresses that looked just as gorgeous as the empire and rather shapeless dresses of today. 

But today was not your day. You actually weren’t sure when your day would be. Your mother and father let their children choose when they would be introduced to society. Of course you all had to wait for a certain age and it had to be a date at the start of the social season but you could pick the day. And unlike your last sibling, you wanted it to be at a ball instead of the selection of the Diamonds. You didn’t even care which ball it would be. Perhaps it was selfish but you did want a day all to yourself or at least a day with you as the main focus. But that wasn’t this year. Or any year perhaps. 

You were excited to finally leave the walls of the palace if you were allowed, having proven yourself capable of not causing an incident. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say you had proven yourself without illness. You weren’t that lucky. You and all your siblings were locked inside until the royal physicians could observe and confirm that you weren’t sick with whatever madness your father had. They didn’t have to observe you. That was also why you picked a ball instead of today. You wanted to prove you didn’t need a chaperone literally holding your elbow. You wanted freedom like your siblings. Freedom to explore that you weren’t sure would get because of your illness. 

After a nearly fatal drowning in the lake — an event your siblings still get chewed out for at least once a month — you started showing symptoms like George did. For you it wasn’t about if you would be as sick like your father. It was about how bad and how quickly the illness would get. 

You didn’t get to see George as often as the others. The doctors thought you shouldn’t be around him for prolonged periods of time unless it was after an episode. They thought that too much exposure would make you more like him instead of better. They wanted to send him to Kew but you promised that you wouldn’t go to his quarters as long as he got to stay at Buckingham. 

Charlotte, silly as it may have been, had hope. They caught your sickness early. Nine was a very young age to almost go mad. Maybe you could be saved from a cruel fate unlike George. They were too late for him but not for you. Of course this only brought jealousy from your siblings who didn’t feel like they got as much affection anymore. Every time you even twitched, it became about you. They could never hate you. It wasn’t like you asked to be sick. But it was hard to be around you. Everyday visits became once a week. Still, you cherished those visits. Like the one yesterday. They expressed their sympathies and hopefulness that you would get to introduce yourself and maybe it could even be this year or maybe this month. 

You could have scoffed. After what you did just two days ago, you were unsure. The daylight came into your room before you were prepared for it and you had been convinced that Buckingham was on fire. You couldn’t be calmed down until you jumped into the water fully clothed. Immediately, you pulled yourself out of the trance but no one really cared. The royal physician had been called anyway and you had ruined all chances of attending the presentation to the Queen. 

“Your Highness!” a voice disturbed your thoughts and your eyes from looking at your siblings’ carriages leave in the morning. Your lady-in-waiting approached you with a paper, an entire pamphlet. “It’s already spread through the ton like a fire. We haven’t read it yet. We figured new literature would be a treat for you.” 

“Thank you, Pandora. Shall we read it in the kitchens this morning when we return home?” 

“Not your room?” 

“I’m so terribly sick of my room and the washroom and the balcony and the bedroom.” 

“You are getting restless.” 

“It’s only a matter of time. Maybe even tomorrow it’ll happen. And soon it will only be a couple of years at most before the mask is gone. By the way,” you said as the two started to leave. “Did you hear about the Feather girl that fainted? Is she alright?” 

“Oh yes, she’s fine.” 

“Good. Have someone send flowers to her tomorrow with an inquiry about her wellbeing after taking such a tumble. Oh and no flowers to the Diamond. I want to meet her myself one day. Now, let’s read about this… Lady Whistledown. She already sounds like an interesting woman.” 

Interesting it was indeed. The maids and kitchen staff hung onto your every word as you read the pamphlet. You weren’t exactly sure how you felt about the pamphlet yet but Pandora was right about one thing. It was literature. Lady Whistledown seemed bold enough to list subjects by name. By their entire name as if she wasn’t afraid of any repercussions. You supposed she wouldn’t be since Whistledown was obviously not her real name. 

It wasn’t the subject of what she published that bothered you. A lot of it was standard gossip that goes around during the social season but it was her personal opinion. She almost seemed to want the ladies she wrote about to have miserable ends like inquiring about Daphne Bridergton’s flame burning out quickly. The lady must know that what she published could ruin a reputation. Gossip is no longer gossip when publicly written down. It has the potential to become fact. 

You slapped the pamphlet against your hand. “Well, I suppose Mercutio Quick from York will no longer be the entertainment of the ton. Sad, and right as I earned a publishing deal too. Perhaps, I should take up a different art. Like making dresses for all my days or learning to play the harp and cello properly so it sounds better than a dying whale according to my brothers.” 

The cook shook his head. “Your stories are very entertaining. Even Lady Whistledown couldn’t stop that.” 

“Thank you for saying that. I am rather jealous that she is penning under a woman.” 

“But you have chosen a name based on your favorite characters, have you not?” 

“I have but maybe I should’ve chosen better. This Lady Whistledown might be making more change for women then I hope to accomplish.” 

At this, the staff scoffed. Pandora cleaned up your dishes from the kitchen island in front of you. 

“Your Highness, with the utmost respect, you are the one who is going to do more for women than this Whistledown. Everybody already wants someone other than your kind brother on the throne. They’re all praying your niece gives them any child so they may protest for her with the added benefit of an heir. They love her and what you write about in your letters make her seem even better. Hell, they love you and they don’t even know you. They listen to you. And with your words, Princess Charlotte the Younger will be on the throne and you will prove women are more than capable of whatever and we might have real change. Is she still on board?” 

“Yes. She hates her father as much as anyone else does. George is nice once you get to know him… sort of. But Lettie approves as long as I agree to be in her court. I said yes of course.” 

“Then it is settled. Thank God we might actually get change in our wretched lives. Now you must wash up and oversee the Bridgerton gowns before they are sent off. Shall we pick certain ones from your wardrobe?” 

“Give the Diamond the one with lace and her family’s colors. Pick whatever you want for the rest of them. Oh and patterns must be on the Feather mother’s dress. I noticed she wears the most ill-favored ornamented dresses but she seems to like them. And put in an order with the modiste, I should like to do this often if this first gesture goes well and the gift wardrobe will need more clothes than it has at present. Clothes for the lower classes as well, nothing that could get them attacked and the clothes stolen off their bodies.” 

“Yes, Your Highness.”  

“And, by the way, I already washed up.” 

“Yes, but now you’ve been sitting amongst smoke and smells.” 

You gave up your fight and nodded as you jumped down from your stool and began the walk to your room. No one was around today. They wouldn’t be for most of the social season as they had other duties, including watching your siblings. Despite your madness, you weren’t the biggest concern at all. It was your rakish brothers in brothels, your sisters constantly leaving their husbands or suitors, and all of them sneaking away. You paused for a moment before walking quicker until you reached your room. 

Why couldn’t you sneak out? Now would be the perfect opportunity. And no one was looking for you. It would be so easy to scale the vines up the garden wall and just have fun for a moment. You washed up quickly and put on a very simple dress — one more like the style of today rather than your father’s time. Grabbing a cloak and your mask, you put them down on the bed before sitting down at your writing desk to pen a letter. The slam of the door nearly made you jump out of your skin. You calmed as you realized it was just Pandora. 

“Oh, good. It is just you.” 

“I have the Bridgerton and Featherington dresses but what do you mean it is just me, Y/N?” 

You stood up, abandoning the letter now that someone was around. “I am going out to see the ton.” 

“What?” 

“It is still dark. I have a map, my cloak, and the mask. And I have a very clear destination with vehicles that will get me back in the most discreet of ways should I need to use them.” 

“Your Highness.” 

“Pandora. I am nearing my introduction to society. You will all have to let me go at some point. I know everyone cares for my wellbeing but my happiness is gone. I am seen as nothing but my illness. Before I have an episode in public like the king, let me meet the ton. Let me not be Farmer Y/N for a brief moment of my life before I am a farmer forever, before I stay in that garden just like Father.” 

Pandora’s mouth shut. She simply locked the door and unlocked the window. “You must return before your midmorning promenade and snack. Since you ate downstairs, I can convince them to overlook your absence of a breakfast request. And don’t take your mask. It’s better if they don’t know who you are at all.” 

She gasped as you hugged her. 

“Thank you, Pandora! Thank you! You are truly the bestest friend a woman could have.” 

“Just go so you can come back quickly and I can have my sanity back.” 

You closed the window, shocking Pandora as you pulled a picture frame off the wall to reveal a staircase that led outside. The door was hidden behind the trellis covered in vines and flowers. You pulled the hood over the cloak over you. The last thing you did was check for your bracelet and if your papers were inside. Until you were introduced to society, all the royal children had bracelets that couldn’t come off unless cut off. There were just in case measures with the eldest two but became necessary after so many nights sneaking out. The bracelet wasn’t going anywhere but you didn’t want to lose your birth certificate. It was your first safety measure. Even if you were kidnapped or harmed, you’d be returned to the palace for a pretty penny. You did pull your sleeves down so your bracelet wouldn’t be noticed.  

You couldn’t contain your smile at the excitement of being out. London was so different without all the noise. The brothels and pubs were starting to close down for their few hours of rest and relaxation. You stuck to streets where you could see all the action but wouldn’t be easily spotted. No one bothered you until you arrived at your destination. 

The footman stood to attention. “May I help you?” 

“Yes, hello. I bring a package from Buckingham House for the Bridgertons, courtesy of Princess Y/N.” You handed him a letter with your official stamp at the end of it. 

The footman’s eyes went wide as he handed you back the letter and ran inside. The Bridgertons looked up at the frantic knocking, pulling slips over Hyacinth and Daphne before telling the footman he could enter. The Bridgerton boys came upstairs after hearing the heavy pounding of their employee’s footsteps running up the multiple stairs. 

“Is there a problem, Marshall?” 

He panted before taking in a deep breath. “The Young Princess’ lady-in-waiting is here, bearing gifts.” 

“WHAT?!” 

The Bridgertons collectively yelled before the scramble happened. You tilted your head when you saw the windows open and a maid shake out some bedsheets. She squeaked when she looked down to see you. You laughed as she ran back inside. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before you were escorted into the house by a very out of breath footman. The Bridgertons stood on the steps at the end of their entrance hall in chronological order with their mother starting the line at the very bottom step. Nervous smiles graced their faces when you finally reached them. You curtsied to which they curtsied or bowed back. 

You gave them a second to assess you before speaking. Even though it wasn’t true in the slightest, everyone thought the ladies-in-waiting and manservants were reflections of the royals themselves. Not in character or value but in appearance. They figured they could form some sort of picture as to what the young masked royals looked like. If you were ugly then surely the princess was too. You hoped they at least found you to be average looking in appearance. 

Anthony Bridgerton — the new head of house from what you remembered of your studies — stepped from behind his mother to greet you formally. He bowed once again, deeper, before offering up his hand. You settled yours in it to receive a chaste kiss. 

“To what do we owe this sudden pleasure, Mrs…” 

“Beckett,” you lied, just using Pandora’s last name. 

“Mrs. Beckett?” He didn’t recognize the name as one belonging to an upper class member of the ton. He wasn’t sure he recognized the name at all. 

“Apologies, I should explain. The princess doesn’t distinguish in her court, we are all there to work. All women are ladies-in-waitings, all men are valets. Regardless of station, regardless of marriage.” 

“So, I am to take it that my earlier statement was incorrect.” 

You nodded. “Simply Miss Beckett.” 

“Well that sounds like very forward thinking actually. All the same, it is our pleasure to meet anyone in her highness’ court.” 

Violet smiled as she watched the interaction. If her son was close to anyone in the princess’ court, especially someone that seemed so close to the princess as to be sent here, then he would be able to meet the princess with good graces. He’d be ahead of any man by leagues. 

“Princess Y/N has sent me on her behalf. She extends warm greetings to the Bridgertons and the Featheringtons whom I will meet after our encounter. The princess congratulates Miss Daphne Bridgerton for earning Diamond of the Season as well as congratulations to the Dowager Viscountess for raising such a fine woman and to Viscount Bridgerton for chaperoning and keeping the family together therefore allowing his sister to shine.” 

He cleared his throat and started to smile. “Please give the princess all of our thanks for the most kind of compliments.” 

“And she would like to assure Miss Bridgerton that I have not been sent on behalf of any princes. Her brothers will not be bothering you today.” 

They all chuckled when you laughed. 

You set the first box down on the table next to you and opened it. “The princess has brought new dresses for the ball. The Diamond and the rest of her family should have the opportunity to shine with the utmost and wholehearted respect and support of the Crown. Please, enjoy them.” 

The family ran to the table, picking out dresses and suits and matching them to the person’s name on the paper pinned to each garment. They kept singing praises and admiring the outfits. Violet turned back to you. 

“When are you planning on visiting the Featheringtons?” 

“In an hour or so, I must be back before the princess’ morning promenade. She has a very busy day afterwards.” 

“Will the princess be introducing herself this season?” 

“Hyacinth!” Anthony and Violet yelled at the same time. 

You laughed. “It is no trouble. I’m at liberty to answer as the princess’ head valet.” 

“Valet? I thought you said they were all men. They are usually all men.” 

“If the princess should become heir to the throne then she will receive a male valet alongside me. For now, it is just me. The Crown believes someone of the same gender should always be with her should she need to confide in someone about very personal matters.” You took a breath before testing the waters. “Such as affections of the heart.” 

It had dawned on you in that moment that you could spy on the ton. When the time came, you would still have to dance with all the bachelors of the United Kingdom but you at least you would have a better picture of them. You’d have to apologize to Pandora for the countless strokes she was about to earn from you but you couldn’t make this your only time sneaking out.  

Violet smiled, knowing she was right. “Well, would you like to stay for breakfast?” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“It would be no trouble at all. We have more than enough room. Eloise, dear, if Penelope is to come over please request that she do so now.”

(part 2)

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

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[shutupineedtothink]

Trial order and why Lilia, not Agatha, is last (not counting Rio)

Kay, so I got another off-the-wall theory for you, this time around the order of the trials and why Lilia, not Agatha, is actually going to be last (if we don't count Rio). It goes back to maiden mother crone and some of the trauma/generational trauma stuff I already talked about in a previous post. As with The Road, continue at your own peril.

Right so I couldn't get this idea of maiden mother crone, intergenerational trauma, dealing with the long history of violence toward witches thing out of my head that the show is doing. And I think we've all been assuming that Lilia's trial will be next, saving Agatha and probably Rio for last, because those are standard main character of a TV show rules.

But the more I think about it, the more weight I feel like Lilia's journey carries for this overall theme of trauma toward witches and the history of witches, etc. She seems to have the most intense connection to the pain of witches past, like old-world witch stuff, and she's the one who's brought up multiple times that witches aren't really as they've been portrayed, there's all these negative stereotypes, etc etc. And she's sick of it. She's lived through it for the longest of all of them (again, leaving whatever Rio is out of it).

Idk, something that big, addressing the long history of violence toward witches and witch stereotypes, that feels like you have to deal with it last. That's a culmination of all the witch references, pop culture and otherwise, the show has been making, of which there are MANY.

So I thought ok, for funzies, let's assume Lilia's last, which puts our trial order as follows: Jen -> Alice -> Agatha -> Lilia (and I guess true last would be Rio but I'll get there in a second).

Assuming that order, something else pinged for me: maiden mother crone. Another massive theme in the show, portraying these generations of witches and women in general, and again, for reasons I can't explain, it really feels like it has weight to me. Like they're doing something with it.

So leaving Jen aside for a second, don't worry I'll come back to her, that makes Alice our maiden. Her role, particularly in the context of her trial, is the role of daughter. She's also the youngest of the witches, as far as I can tell. She's even coded as kind of the rebellious one, the young angry one who still hasn't quite accepted her heritage, until after her trial, she does.

Agatha is the mother. We are really going for the mother/child relationship with her and Teen, and of course dealing with her son's death and whatever part she played in it. I would assume her trial will be about that, but we could also be saving that for the end. The mother is also the connector generation between maiden and crone, so maybe there's something there about Agatha fully stepping into the leader role of the coven, and accepting these women around her, idk.

Lilia, the eldest, is our crone. She carries the true history and memory of generations of witches with her, she has lived the longest through the most trials. She is the most experienced in the craft and takes it the most seriously. The journey is hers to end.

Except -- we have two other players left. Jen, who kicks off the trials, and Rio, who I'm assuming doesn't really have a trial but will be there at the end... because, you know. 💀

So why would Jen be first? What comes before the maiden?

And then she said it herself.

"I never fully identified as a witch. I am an 11th-generation root worker and midwife."

This one line almost puts her in a similar category to Rio, at least thematically. She's a witch but also more, neither and both. And she's a midwife, someone who helps facilitate birth. Someone who, at her best, supports and sustains life. Someone who allows the first phase of life, the maiden, to come into being.

And guess who that leaves us with at the end, the opposite bookend to Jen's life-giving power -- the mistress of death herself, Rio. The one to which all life must eventually return.

The trials aren't just about elements, or moon phases, or even different witch specialties, they're taking us through the stages of a witch herself. The stages of ALL women really (whether you are an actual mother with children or not, the mother phase is mid-life). Linking us all together, generation after generation.

So in this theory, the trials go like this:

Jen -> Alice -> Agatha -> Lilia -> Rio

Birth -> Maiden -> Mother -> Crone -> Death

Even the moon phases line up. Full moon is birth, a full-term pregnancy and then birth. Waxing moon, growth, renewal, hope, promise -- the maiden. Half moon, mid-life, no longer maiden, not yet crone, the in-between -- the mother. Waning moon, the last quarter of life -- crone. New moon, darkness, returning to the void -- death. They're playing fast and loose with the moon phase order, so I am too.

I can probably fudge the elements here too, but it's a little harder mostly because I don't know what Agatha's element is. I heard someone say spirit, but idk.

Anyway, what do you think? Am I on to something here? Batshit crazy? Would love to hear your thoughts in comments. :)

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.2

pt. 1 pt.3

TW: mention of rape, unprotected sex, drinking, blood, violence, angst

The liquor on his tongue didn’t even burn anymore; too much was already in his system, trying to wash down the events of this day. You were the love of his life, the woman he wanted to marry, even though he didn’t know how it would be legal for you to marry all of them. And now, he lost you. The worst part? He can't even remember how it happened. He felt so disgusted in himself in so many ways—disgusted for breaking your heart. God, your look, how you tried to keep your tears in check, broke him. And then his whole body felt disgusted; it felt like a layer of dirt he couldn’t wash away. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but it didn’t go away; the shame still lingered. It felt like someone had taken something from him, but it was his own fault. He must have said yes and bought those drinks. It was his own fault, he told himself over and over again. Normally, he would talk about this kind of stuff with you; you always knew what to say. But you hated him.

"‚‘nother on’," he said to the barkeeper. This was probably his sixth. Johnny knew how he could handle alcohol; he was never that pissed before to not remember a thing. And there she was, the medic, sitting down next to him.

"Hey, Johnny," she smiled brightly, like she didn’t have any worry in her life.

"I ken a dinnae whit yesterday happened bit tis ne'er aff tae happen again."

"Come on, you enjoyed it yesterday."

"I dinnae remember yesterday."

"What a shame."

He stood up, throwing some pounds on the table, wanting to leave, but she stopped him. "Come on, Johnny. I'll help you forget, make you feel at peace again."

"No."

"Then please, let me invite you for a drink as an apology," she smiled sweetly, pushing the drink towards me. Wait, how had she a drink prepared if she sat only for a minute next to me?

"No."

"Please, a drink won't kill you."

"I said no."

"Just one sip, Johnny, and I'll make you feel good how she never could."

"How come ye're sae persistent fur me tae dram this drink?"

"You're silly, Johnny. I'm just being nice," she looked panicked - weird.

While many people thought of him as someone who is just a silly guy who isn’t able to think properly, you told him all over again that he was so smart, smarter than all of them, if someone would just give him the chance to show. And right now, his brain implanted a sick thought on him. "Dinnae tell me ye put something in mah drink."

Her eyes widened. "Of course not," she mumbled.

"Don't lie to me," his hand immediately went to her throat , choking the truth out of her.

"Knockout drugs," she whispered. She was fighting for air as I let her go; the men in the pub already stood up trying to save the poor woman from getting abused by a man.

"You raped me." His shock hit deep; he always thought something like that wouldn’t happen to him. He was strong and able to protect himself. He was the guy who killed people, the youngest man in the SAS, the guy who beat up an officer because he touched a civi. But now, he was the victim.

"Have fun proving it. No one will believe that a tiny girl like me raped the big bad soldier," she laughed, and screamed for help. "Help, this man doesn’t take no for an answer," He was kicked out of the pub; his face was bloody from all the beating.

All he wanted was to reach you, ask your advice, be in the comfort of your arms, telling him all over again how he is a good man, how he is worth everything and not a dirty soldier. But you didn’t pick up; he came to the realization quickly; that no one would believe him.

**Soap:** Please tell me we used a condom.

**Medic:** ;)

Fuck.

————————————————————————————————-

4 am and you still couldn’t sleep; your head was full of thoughts. Why were you not good enough? Why did he do it? So, you made a thing your friends would kill you for. Calling John, you weren’t sure if he would pick up, but he did.

"What's wrong, love?" Source of habit, he thought.

"Why did you do this, John?" you sobbed.

"I didn't mean for it to happen; it was an accident."

"Then why didn't you say sorry?"

"Love."

"Don't fucking call me love. You cheated on me, and you didn't say sorry. You didn't run after me, you didn't apologize," your sobs broke his heart.

"I'm sorry; it was an accident."

"An accident is making a typo, not sticking your dick in a whore."

"I—"

"I hate you, John. I hate you so much," and you hung up. This wasn’t what you expected. Why doesn’t he feel guilty? Why are you not good enough? Why didn’t Simon say something? Why didn’t Kyle come here? Of course, you broke up, but why don’t they care?

If you only knew how Kyle was, blood-covered in the hospital, too many rookies in his way. How Simon was trying desperately to find Soap to see he didn't drink himself to death, and then he would come to you, he told him self all over again. And how the captain didn't leave his office, not even for food.

And how Soap went into John's office, trying to explain to him the truth, only to see a disarranged office, hands covered in blood after he tried to pick up the liquor he smashed at his wall. He never saw his captain so vulnerable, and if Soap didn’t know better, he would have sworn he saw tears.

"Captain, I—"

"You did already enough, MacTavish. Let me have at least one day to mourn over the loss of the love of my fucking life."

"Captain—"

"LEAVE," and he did, he crawled into his bed, knowing he lost everything in a day, the love of his life, his best friend Kyle, his captain, his pride, and safety, and not even Ghost was there.

[cupidbedsy]

𝘀𝗮𝗳𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 | 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ♔

➪ summary: after the first incident of her getting sick, her brothers are on high alert for when the time comes again. but what happens when they're all away and she gets sick when she's alone? | based on taylor swift's 'safe and sound'

➪ warnings: reader is sick, throwing up, blood, hospitals, swearing

➪ word count: 3.0k

➪ file type: song based fic

➪ sunny's notes: i have mixed feelings about this fic because... well if you know what happened with this you know what happened. i am extremely proud of it though especially because i wrote it in one night and the person who this is based off of absolutely loved it when i posted it the first time as well

© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

hughes brothers masterlist || nhl masterlist || taglist || navigation

'I remember tears streaming down your face When I said I'll never let you go When all those shadows almost killed your light I remember you said don't leave me here along But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight'

She was five when she got severely sick the first time and she was terrified. She woke up feeling warm and cold at the same time, her throat was scratchy and dry, and her eyes were watery but she didn’t know if it was because she was scared or if it was just a reaction, and her energy was slim to nonexistent which was scared Ellen and Jim.

By now, their sons would’ve scooped the youngest child out of her bedroom and made their way downstairs to watch something on TV or just play with her. Yet, it was dead silent in the house. Ellen got up from the bed and peeked into each of her son’s rooms and was relieved to find that they were asleep still. 

She hoped the same for her daughter but when she walked into the room and saw her five-year-old in tears sitting on her bed, she rushed over.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“Mommy!” She let out a loud cry alarming Jim and he came rushing in as well, not noticing the eldest Hughes child in tow. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m here, your brothers are still sleeping, let’s not wake them up. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel good.” She sniffled and quieted her voice.

Ellen picked her up and placed her daughter on her lap as she sat down, “Jim go get the-” 

Before she even finished, y/n leaned over and threw up, trying not to get it on Ellen, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, hon. Jim, go get the thermometer.”

Jim quickly walked out of the room, heading to the bathroom but got stopped as he ran into his son, “Quinn! Morning.”

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Your sister’s sick, it’s probably nothing.”

Quinn’s face went pale, “Is she okay? Does she have a fever? Is she throwing up?”

“Quinn! Calm down. I promise you, it’s probably just a little cold. You can go see her if you want, Mom is in there with her.”

Quinn walked into the room to see Ellen hugging y/n. He took one step and Ellen turned to him, “Hi, Quinn.”

“How is she?”

“It’s most likely just a cold. Y/n/n, look who’s here.” She directed her head to her son and pointed to him, “Quinny!”

She reached her arms out for him and Quinn gladly took her, placing her on his hip, “Hi baby bear.”

“I no feel good, Quinny.” Quinn nodded his head, “I know but we’re gonna make you feel better, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Jim walked back into the room, placing the thermometer under the girl’s tongue. Seconds later it beeped and Jim took it out of her mount, “40.6/104”

The parents sigh and start to walk out, “Quinn if you don’t mind can you get her ready quickly, we’re gonna need to go to the hospital.”

Quinn nodded his head and he walked over to his sister’s closet, “Whatcha wanna wear, sweetheart?” Y/n lazily pointed to her brown bear sweatshirt and snuggled her head back into her brother’s chest. Quinn got her ready and sat her on her bed so he could put her shoes on. 

“Quinny?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Are you going to leave me?”

“Of course, not y/n/n. I’m never going to let you go.”

Jack and Luke had both heard the rustling from outside their rooms and they both stepped out into the hallway, “What’s going on?”

Jack shrugged, “No clue, bro. I’m so tired.” The boy saw his sister’s door open and walked in there.

By now, Quinn was sitting on her bed and y/n was lying in his arms, “What’s going on?”

“She’s sick.” Jack and Luke immediately wake up at the news and rush over, spitting out questions left and right.

“She’s got a fever but that’s all I know right now. Mom and Dad are taking her to the hospital.”

“The hospital?!”

“I wanna go.” Luke protests just as their parents walk back into the room, fully dressed, “Oh, good morning you two.”

“Can we go with?”

“Guys, the three of you can’t come with.”

“Please, mommy.” Y/n’s little voice spoke up from her brother’s lap.

Ellen sighed, “Fine. But if you guys aren’t out there in five minutes, dressed, then we’re leaving without you.”

Ellen reached over and grabbed her daughter, the three of them heading out to the car to wait for their sons.

『••✎••』

In the hospital, Jim and Ellen were the only ones allowed to go back with her at least for now, and y/n let her voice be heard. She cried and cried until they relented and let one of them go back with the two. She reached for Quinn immediately and he nodded his head and followed behind his mom and sister, Jim staying with the other two. 

When they got home, the boys sat at the kitchen table as Jim tried to give y/n her medicine, “I don’t want to.”

“I know you don’t want to, honey, but you have to. Don’t you want to feel better?”

“Jacky.”

Jack’s head popped up from where he sat and looked at her, “Yeah?”

Y/n pointed to her medicine and then to Jack and glared, “You want Jack to give you your medicine?”

She nodded with purpose and Jim happily gave the medicine to his middle son, “All yours, Jack.”

Jack didn’t complain, it meant that she trusted him and he loved that feeling. Jack poured the liquid into the small cup to the correct fill line and put it near his sister’s mouth. She took it without a hassle and from the corner of his eyes he could see his father throw his hands up in defeat causing everyone to chuckle.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

'Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound'

Later that night, y/n lay in bed by herself, looking at the wall. Her stomach hurt and she let out a barely audible whine. Luke, who happened to be walking by, heard it and peeked his head into the room, “You doing okay, baby bear?”

“No.”

Luke walked fully into the room and sat on his little sister’s bed, “What’s wrong?”

“Stomach. Will you stay with me?”

“Of course, I will.” Luke laid down next to her and she curled into him, “Thank you.”

Luke looked confused, “For what?”

“For making me feel safe. All three of you.”

Luke awed internally, trying not to let tears fall down his face, “No need to thank me for that.”

Five minutes passed and Jack and Quinn got down waiting for their brother, getting up to see where he was. When they saw him lying in y/n’s bed, they made their way over to them, “You guys okay?”

There was no answer as both of them had fallen asleep. Quinn told Jack to stay there as he walked out to grab some pillows and blankets and brought them back to him. The two made their makeshift beds on the ground and fell asleep not long after.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

‘Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire The war outside our door keeps raging on Hold onto this lullaby even when the music's gone, gone

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound’

Ever since then, it was common that y/n had to go to the hospital. As the boys got older, they got more worried. They were busier, Quinn went to college and eventually, he and Jack made the NHL. Luke went off to college and this year he started his official rookie season with the Devils. 

However, it wasn’t as often that it happened when they were away, and if it did it wasn’t as bad as having to go to the hospital, just more or less the doctor’s office. They weren’t as worried about her when this happened, getting texts from either there or their parents and calling them to make sure she was okay.

This time was different. Ellen and Jim had run out to grab a few things for dinner and they left y/n at home alone, because she was 16 and was capable of being by herself. Yet, in hindsight, they probably shouldn't have. 

They had been gone for twenty minutes already and she thought they wouldn’t be much longer and she could hold on. But she couldn’t. Every couple of minutes it felt like she had a coughing attack, but this last one, blood came up with it. 

Wasting no time she dialed the first person that came up on her contacts, Luke. 

“Lukey.”

“Hey, y/n/n! What’s up?”

She was glad they didn’t have a game today, otherwise she’d be totally screwed. 

“Lukey, I’m scared.”

“You’re scared? Why? What’s wrong?” Luke stood up from his bed and made his way out of his room and towards Jack’s. 

He didn’t knock on the door before entering which left Jack to somewhat argue with him about knocking before entering, not that he was doing anything, but manners, you know? 

“It’s so bad. Really bad.”

“Well, where’s mom and dad? How bad are we talking?” Jack’s interest peaked at the mention of his parents and scrambled to sit next to his younger brother on his bed, motioning for him to put it on speaker. Luke pressed the button and pulled his phone away from his ear, waiting for the girl to talk. 

“They went out to grab-” She took a pause before coughing some more. Jack and Luke looked at each other worriedly, “Y/n?”

“Oh god. There’s more.”

“More what?” Jack inquired, nervousness settling at the bottom of his stomach, “More blood.”

The three were silent, y/n trying not to freak out and Jack and Luke trying not to freak her out. It was quiet for a couple of minutes before the oldest of the three-spoke up, “When are Mom and Dad going to be home?”

As soon as she went to say her answer the front door clicked and y/n rushed downstairs, “Dad! Mom!”

She threw her phone on the counter and Luke turned the volume all the way up in an effort to hear the conversation, “What? What’s wrong?”

“I threw up some blood.” 

“Oh my. Get in the car, I’ll meet you two there.” Jim rushed y/n to the car and Ellen ran around the house gathering a few things in case they were there for a while. 

Jack and Luke were freaking out, “Dad, what’s going on? Mom? Y/n?” Ellen spied her daughter’s phone on the counter and looked at it curiously seeing her son’s contact name on it, “Luke?”

“Mom, what is happening?”

“We’re taking her to the hospital. How long ago did she call you?”

“I don’t know like five minutes ago maybe?” Luke’s voice broke as he explained to his mom, Jack placing a hand on his back. 

“I want you to call, Quinn-”

“No!” Y/n interrupted her mom as she got into the passenger seat, “What do you mean no?”

“He has a game, please.”

“Honey, I think you are more important to him than the game. Let Luke and Jack call him.” Ellen’s voice was stern as Jim pulled out of the driveway.

“If you’re gonna call him, let me talk to him.”

Ellen, and the boys, went to protest but y/n’s face showed desperation, “Fine. We’ll call you two back when we have answers.”

“Don’t bother. We’re already packing.” 

As Ellen and y/n were squabbling, Jack ushered his younger brother to his room and told him to go back and he left his phone in his room. Jack pulled his suitcase out of his closet and was halfway finished packing when they acknowledged the two again.

“There’s no need-”

“You’re not winning this y/n/n. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Jack hung up and finished packing, meeting Luke and in ten minutes, they were on their way to the airport. 

Meanwhile, y/n had dialed Quinn’s contact, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. It was an hour before the game was supposed to start and she had no idea if he would actually answer or not, but to her luck, he did.

“Quinn.”

“Hey, y/n/n. What's up? Need help with some homework?”

“I’m going to the hospital.”

Quinn dropped his stick as he stood in the locker room, some of his teammates glancing at him worriedly, “What is it?”

“Same old, same old, but this-” Her sentence was interrupted by another coughing attack and Quinn could hear their mother telling her to take it easy in the background. 

“What do you mean it’s worse?” Quinn didn’t need her to finish the sentence for him to know what she meant.

Elias was standing next to him, a hand on his shoulder to ground him in case anything got out of hand, “I coughed up some blood.”

“You what?!” Quinn’s voice echoed through the clubhouse, “Quinn what’s wrong?”

The boy shushed his teammates, “Quinn, I’m probably fine-”

“If you’re coughing up blood you are not fine. Do Mom and Dad know? Do Jack and Luke?”

“Yes, Mom and Dad know, you idiot. Who do you think is taking me to the hospital? And yes the other two know, I already called them. I didn’t want to call you because you have a game.”

“I couldn’t care less about the game when my little sister calls and tells me she’s on the way to the hospital. Let me talk to coach, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Quinn, no-”

“Nope, la la la la. Blah blah blah. I’m coming. Give the phone to mom.”

“But-”

“No.”

Y/n reluctantly handed the phone to her mom but as she extended her hand, her arm dropped and the phone clattered to the ground. The only thing Quinn could hear was the faint yelling of his sister’s name from his mom. 

『••✎••』

Y/n was lying in the hospital bed when Jack and Luke watched the only show that was on this late at night, Family Feud. She was trying to answer but every time she went to speak she’d start coughing. The two ran in just as y/n’s previous coughing attack had subsided and she was now glaring at the TV because someone said a stupid answer.

“I said sex first, asshole. But no one wanted to listen to me.” 

“Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

“Jacky! Lu!” Y/n had a dopey smile on her face as she saw her brothers. They couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or if she was just being herself.

“Hey, baby bear. How you feeling?”

“Mom, can I swear?”

Jack laughed, “Aren’t you the one who just called someone an asshole?”

“Mom! Jack’s being mean.”

“Jack, stop torturing your sister and yes, y/n, you can swear.”

“I feel like shit.” Luke nodded, the only one who seemed to have sympathy for the girl right now, “What did the doctor say?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening.”

Ellen and Jim explained how it wasn’t a big thing and that she should be able to go home in a couple of hours or so. The two stayed with her until she was discharged and drove home with the three where Luke carried her upstairs to her room because she fell asleep on the way home. 

That’s where Quinn found them when he got there, Jack and Luke on either side of her in her bed as they watched the Game Show Network. One of the many stuffed animals that Quinn had gotten her wrapped in her arms against her chest. 

“Hey guys.”

“Quinn! You’re here.”

“Of course, I’m here. I couldn’t let those two take care of you.”

Jack and Luke feigned offense at the eldest child but Jack moved over so Quinn could sit where he previously was, knowing y/n always chose to be close to him when she was sick. 

“You doing okay?”

“Could be better, but I’m happy you’re here.”

“I’m never letting you go, none of us are.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

It was something the three had already talked about, they had already talked to their coaches and were scratched from their next couple of games because their sister needed him. 

Y/n spent the rest of the night surrounded by her brothers feeling safe and sound.

⬂ 𝗛𝘂𝗴𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂

@zebraszegras | @ru-kru | @alwaysclassyeagle | @flowergirl1134 | @puckslxt | @ivy-34 | @kei943

© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

[staylovesmiley]

Give Me Your TMI~ Chapter 7

₊˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Yang Jeongin x Fem!reader, Stray kids x Fem!reader

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; In a world where Humans and Hybrids should be living as equals, Hybrids are still viewed as being closer to their animalistic side than their humanistic. Deep in the woods lives a band of misfit hybrids who reject these societal views and keep to themselves, choosing to live away from humans. What happens when the youngest of this rogue group meets a lost Human girl, befriending her after an incident where he must rely on her for help?

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; hybrid!au, female!reader, angst, mild violence, mentions of sexual harassment/assault and discrimination, she/her pronouns used for reader, this is very loosely based off the overall themes/tones of the manga and anime fruits basket~

The alarm clock on your bedside table started to go off, the beeping echoing in the otherwise silent room causing you to wince and cover your ears tightly. Why was it so loud this morning- you groaned and reached over to turn it off as Jeongin’s arms tightened around your waist. “Don’t go-“ he grumbled, face burying into your hair as he inhaled the sweetness of your scent. Slowly you turned around to face him and gave his nose a little peck. “If you want breakfast then you better let me get up.” You teased, causing the hybrid to let you go with a whine. Getting out of bed you felt a chill wrap around you causing a shiver to run through your whole body. Curiously, you padded over to the window and pulled the curtain back to peek outside.

Snow blanketed everything, all surfaces painted white and a soft gasp left your lips before you bolted for the front door. “It’s snowing!” You shouted, the thought of others still sleeping completely fallen from your mind as you dashed out the door and into the still slowly falling snow. Minho saw you run past from where he was already setting out ingredients for breakfast and his eyes widened as he saw you booking it for the front door. “Pretty wait-“ he shouted after you but it was too late.

Your socked feet were instantly soaked and began to burn from the sheer drop in temperature and your body continued to shiver as you were still in only a thin long sleeve and pajama pants but you didn’t care, spinning around with your face turned to the sky as you laughed with nothing but pure joy coursing through you.

Minho came out from the kitchen, a concerned look painting his face as he watched you. “Pretty get back in here it’s too cold to be out dressed like that!” His calls to you fell on deaf ears though, his panic spiking as you let yourself fall to the ground and begin making a snow angel as giggles continued to flow from your lips.

One by one the other hybrids woke from the noise, coming out onto the deck to see you. Chan huffed, shaking his head as he stomped his way towards you. When you noticed him coming you simply gave him a warm smile, motioning to the snow still falling around you both. “Chan look! It’s snowing!” You stood back up from the ground and looked back at the sky with your tongue out in an attempt to catch some of it in your mouth.

The wolf hybrid was unamused, effortlessly bending down and throwing you up over his shoulder. “Wha- Chan put me down!” You squealed, hitting his back lightly though there was no real force behind it as you laughed. “No can do, pretty. If you stay out here any longer then you’ll get sick again like before.” You huffed giving the hybrid a pout when he brought you inside and dropped you down by the fireplace.

Jeongin was instantly at your side, worrying over you. “Pretty you’re freezing-“ he spoke softly, shivering as if it was he himself who had just been out in the snow hardly dressed. “Oh- I am…but how did you-“ the scent of fresh balsam crowded your senses as the hybrid pulled you close in an attempt to assist the fire in warming you up. “Why did you run out there in your pajamas you crazy girl?” Minho laughed, shaking his head as he headed back for the kitchen to start on breakfast. “Well I’ve never seen snow in person before…” you mumbled, looking down at where your now wet clothes dripped onto the hardwood floors. “Go take a hot bath and warm up, I’ll take care of breakfast on my own today.”

Wordlessly Jeongin scooped you up into his arms, your own coming to rest around his shoulders as if it was the most natural movement ever. He carried you carefully into the lone bathroom in the cabin, aside from the one tucked in Chan’s room that you wouldn’t dare use unless it was necessary.

The fox sat you on the closed toilet just as he had months ago when you first came there, working to run a hot bath for the both of you.

Bathing together had become something you did often with the youngest of the hybrids, saving on time and water as there were eight people using the single room. You didn’t think much of it, having had to bathe with siblings or friends in the past for similar reasons, though this was the first time you had bathed with someone of the opposite sex it didn’t seem to bother either of you.

The ritual was familiar, calming now as you both stripped your clothes and settled in the water with you settling in between the hybrid’s legs with your back pressed to his chest. He gently washed your hair and cupped the hot water to bring it up and let it run over your arms and shoulders that weren’t able to be submerged. After he was done washing and rinsing your hair the two of you carefully switched positions so it was he who had his back facing yours as you took your turn washing his hair and being careful not to get any water in his ears.

It was so intimate being here with him like this, letting each other see the vulnerable parts of yourselves as you washed each other with soft, gentle touches. You smiled softly, something in your heart fluttering and it was as if you could feel the fox in front of you blushing as you did yourself though you couldn’t see his face. “There, all clean.” You said with a warm smile, leaning back so the hybrid could get out of the tub first and help you out after. The both of you wrapped up in fluffy warm towels you had purchased the last time you went into town with Changbin, insisting that the threadbare ones they had before were on their last legs and could be used for cleaning instead. You had told them not long after your little Christmas about the money you had got from your parents after your wedding. It was supposed to be given to your husband on your wedding night but as that had never happened you still held onto the hefty sum and even though they insisted you didn’t have to use it on them or things around the house you refused to budge and still used some of the money to purchase them some new clothes from the local thrift store, including some warmer clothes for yourself, the towels previously mentioned, and a few other miscellaneous items you felt could be helpful to you all.

Once you’re both dried and dressed you head back out to see everyone cuddling up in the living room to fight off the cold the snow storm outside had brought in. “Room for two more?” You ask with a soft smile, taking a seat in between Hyunjin and Felix on the couch while Jeongin curls up with Jisung in one of the arm chairs. Minho is sat with Changbin and Seungmin on the floor, while Chan is nowhere to be found.

You are enjoying cuddling up with the ferret and younger cat hybrid when suddenly Seungmin scoots over to sit in front of you with his back pressed against the bottom of the couch. Silently you reach down, gently running your fingers through his soft brown hair as he leans into the touch and his tail begins to thump lightly against the floor.

Everything is peaceful, a warmth spreading over you from the fire and body heat of those around you when suddenly Chan enters the room with a raised eyebrow. “Ayen, Seung, it’s time to get going.” The two youngest groan, slowly rising from their spots to pout at the wolf hybrid. “But hyung it’s snowing out- who would be out in this weather?” Jeongin complained with a little huff. The oldest gives them a look that says it’s not up for debate and they whine while reluctantly heading off to go on patrol.

Unbeknownst to any of you, someone did happen to be on the mountain that day and all they would bring was trouble to your peaceful little family.

With the snow fall having slowed down, the man hopped out of the police car once it finally entered the clearing he had explained to the detective earlier. “This is it, this is where I brought her on our honeymoon.”

Jason Park, your cowardly and cruel Husband, had never truly loved you. His parents struck up the deal with your own for the two of you to marry and he had only been on board knowing that out of every family at the convent yours had the most money which he would get a share of in marrying you.

Your father, one of the leaders of a large religious organization, had promised his oldest daughter to him along with a rather sizable dowery and all he had to do was go along with whatever they had planned.

He didn’t originally plan to kill you, figuring he could get by with sleeping around behind your back to fulfill his desires that he doubted your meek self couldn’t. That was until he met a girl in a bar the week before the wedding who he truly felt he couldn’t live without.

Not wanting to lose out on the money he was going to inherit through your betrothal, he created the plan to take you up to the most isolated mountain he could think of and end your life. He was confident he could keep up the illusion that you were still alive and happy with him until your father sent him your dowery and then he would disappear with his real lover somewhere they would never find him if anyone were to discover your corpse.

When his plan went south and he couldn’t find it in him to pull the trigger himself, he figured he would give it a little while before going to the police and giving them a sob story that you had run away and left a note saying that you were unhappy in the arrangement and wished to end your own life. He thought with how weak and simple you were that the moment he left you there you would take your own life and he would be able to collect his payout after your funeral.

With a note already typed up on your laptop that you had conveniently left at his home before your trip he didn’t have to worry about hand writing analysis disproving the legitimacy of the letter, which described that you wanted to take your life in the ‘last place you felt peace’ which he explained the the detectives must have been the place you had spent your honeymoon together months prior.

Now, on the snow covered mountain, Jason led the detectives and police officers to the clearing where he expected to find your small camp site and lifeless body. However, once he entered the clearing he saw that there was nothing there. That couldn’t be right, he was sure this was the spot. Frowning deeply, he cursed inside his head before putting on the biggest act of his life as he suddenly became distraught. “She’s not here- oh god she must be somewhere in the area!” He cried, tears falling as he began to sob hysterically.

The detectives made a quick game plan for a sweep of the area, splitting up into groups to cover more ground.

The snow had finally stopped falling, the fox’s vision becoming clearer though it was still difficult to sniff things out with the damp earth and clean smell of snow everywhere was clouding his senses. At the snap of a tree branch and the sound of voices, male voices at that, his fur stood on end. Jeongin watched from behind a small cluster of bushes as a group of men in police uniforms and one man dressed in simple winter clothes were quickly approaching in the same direction that lead towards the cabin. Oh this could not be good, he thought, bolting as fast as he could to warn the others.

As he broke through the clearing, he didn’t bother shifting out of his fox form as he burst through the front door startling you where you were leaning against the counter in the kitchen while chatting with Minho and Jisung over a warm cup of tea. “Innie-“ you felt on edge, fear seeping down to your bones as the hybrid shifted back to his human form and you were quick to pull the blanket off of the couch and wrap it around him to keep him warm as he was completely nude and the door to outside still stood wide open.

“Men- police- coming-“ he managed to get out, still struggling to catch his breath from how fast he had ran to make it back in time. Minho shut the door as you brought the fox back to your room to get him some clothes. “Hey, it’s okay…they probably won’t find us all the way back here. I’m sure they are just doing patrols like how you do? Maybe a hiker went missing or something. The hybrid shook his head, pulling on the clothes you handed to him before pulling you close to him. “They were headed this way, pretty- what if they are looking for you…” a frown found its way to your lips as you felt his fear completely encompass you. “Hey, quit that. Everything is going to be fine, yeah? No one is probably looking for me…I’m sure it’s just-“ suddenly a loud knock could be heard at the front door and you froze, hearing the words you had only ever heard on tv programs.

“Hello? This is the police.”

Slowly you made your way out from the bedroom to where the other hybrids now stood in the living room with looks of panic painting their faces. Taking a deep breath, you made your way to the door. “Pretty no-“ Felix started, eyes wide but Minho shook his head and motioned for you to continue. “It’s okay…someone has to answer the door and it will be safer for her since she is human…we just need to stay quiet.” You nodded in agreement, giving them what you hoped was a reassuring smile before pulling the door open enough to peek out. “Hi! May I help you?”

Upon opening the door you felt like your heart stopped. There, standing behind the two officers and the detective was your husband, Jason. “Y/n.” He said, his voice sounded relieved but also completely dumbfounded as he had not expected to find you alive especially not after nearly four months alone in the woods with winter being in full swing.

“Jason- what are you doing here?” You frowned, opening the door enough to slip out onto the porch with the officers. “Ma’am your husband was worried you had come here to take your own life.” One of them said, though your eyes were still locked on the man standing in the yard in front of you. “Well you can see that that wasn’t the case…” you mutter, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you felt your heart rate quicken and your blood run cold. “Oh thank god!” Jason suddenly exclaimed, walking up the stairs to pull you into a tight embrace but you stepped back at just the right moment. “baby- it’s me, your husband…come on it’s time to come home.” You felt sick, face paling as you shook your head at him. “I’m already home- I…I don’t want to go with you.” You felt fear taking you over as the simple act of defying him went against everything you had been raised to believe. Jason glared at you then, frown deeply set on his face and a sour smell filled the air that caused nausea to bubble up inside you. “What did you just say to me?” He almost spat, stepping forward to grab hold of your arm but someone intervened by pushing you behind them.

Balsam. Fuck- Jeongin.

The hybrid now stood between you and your husband, snarling at him protectively as he bared his canines at the man.

The officers on the deck instinctively placed their hands on the weapons at their side and you caught the movement out of the corner of your eye. “A hybrid-“ one of them said almost breathlessly, going to draw his gun but you shouted. “Stop! He’s- he’s mine. I own him.” Your words came out so fast, and even you were shocked by them but it caused the officers to relax. “He just…is very protective you see. We don’t get visitors out here so he’s on edge…innie, behave.” Your words softened as you spoke to the fox, reaching out to give his hand a gentle squeeze and you felt him relax considerably.

The detective who still stood in the yard suddenly stepped up, confusion painting his expression. “I’m sorry, Miss. but could you please explain yourself? Your husband reported you missing because you left him a note that you wanted to end your life.” You frowned, looking to Jason who had an expression of pure hatred that he didn’t even attempt to hide.

“That…was only a lie I said to escape from him.” You decided to use his lie to your advantage, standing your ground as the hybrid beside you gave you a new found confidence to stand up to the man. “I left him to live my life up here and…and rescue hybrids.” The men all gave you a confused, skeptical look and the detective spoke up once more. “Hybrids? As in multiple? How many do you have here..” fuck. You hadn’t meant to let it slip that more than just you and Jeongin were living in the cabin. “I own eight as of now, sir. I used the money given to me by my parents upon my marriage to adopt them all and we have been living here for a few months now.”

At the mention of the money that he felt should belong to him Jason seethed, practically spitting at you. “You had your dowery the whole time?! You little bi-“ the detective took a hold of his shoulder, pulling him back. “Mr. Park, I’m gonna need you to calm down. We came up here to check on the wellbeing of your wife and well….are you safe here Miss?”

You smiled, looking back at Jeongin with such a soft expression it brought a blush to his cheeks and caused him to now hide behind you. “Very safe, sir.” The detective gave you a smile, clearly seeing that the dynamic between you and your husband was not a good one and felt that you must have left for a reason seeing has you had clearly made a life here for yourself. “Well then- boys? Call off the search, we’ve wasted enough of our time here.” He said to the officers who nodded and called out on the speakers on their uniforms to the others that you had been found and it was time to head back to the city.

Jason huffed, turning to watch as they headed back for the treeline. “What- no it’s not over. She can’t just stay here!” The detective turned back with a smirk and shrugged. “She’s a grown woman, Mr. Park. If she wishes to stay here then we can’t exactly force her to leave.” You smiled triumphantly, moving to head back inside when Jason leaned in and whispered in your ear. “This isn’t over, I’ll be coming back and next time I will not be leaving without you.” A shiver ran down your spine and Jeongin growled from your side, going to lunge for him but the man was already down the steps and headed back after the others towards the cars that waited for them to leave the frigid mountain.

Once they have left and you are safe inside you collapse to the floor, your whole body trembling as tears slip down your face.

Jeongin is by your side in an instant, pulling you close to him as you sob. “Pretty what’s wrong? They are gone, you’re safe and we aren’t going to let him hurt you.”

Shaking your head, you smell the strong scent of sandalwood signaling that the wolf hybrid is near. “I-It’s not that…I’m so sorry for what I said-“

The hybrids all share a look of confusion with one another before Chan speaks up. “Sorry for what exactly, darling?” He knelt in front of you, his head tilted as he took in the sad sight of your still shaking form. “Th-That I own you. You didn’t deserve that I wasn’t thinking I was just s-so afraid they would take you away if I didn’t lie-“ fresh tears spilled as you clung to the fox who still held onto you as if you’d shatter if he let go, and perhaps you would.

The hybrids all relaxed hearing that was all you had been worried about, and it was Minho that spoke up then. “Hey, you didn’t upset any of us by what you said…it was smart. We know that’s not what you think of us but they don’t need to know that.” He gave you a wink and you sniffled, wiping at your eyes. “Y-You’re not?” Everyone shook their heads and you instantly began to relax in the youngest’s arms, resting your body against his until Chan’s smile fell, the wolf having decided it was finally time to tell you.

“Pretty, can you come with me please?”

You blinked up at the wolf a few times before looking to Jeongin who only nodded and let you go, trusting the oldest to take care of you as you took his hand cautiously.

The wolf lead you to his room, both of you nervous for different reasons as he pulled you inside and shut the door behind you. “Please, sit.” He motioned towards the bed and you listened immediately, plopping down on the soft mattress while still wiping the remnants of your tears from your eyes and cheeks.

“Do you know why I came here…why I started this family?” You shook your head, still sniffling softly. “Would you like to?” Chan’s voice was soft as he stood in front of you though his ears twitched anxiously. “You don’t have to-“ he shook his head stepping forward to take your hands into his own. “I want to tell you, you deserve to know. I was hesitant before…but now I know I can trust you, rely on you- you protected us.” His smile is so warm and genuine you almost start crying once more but he shushes you gently before sitting beside you. “You did so good, pretty. I’m proud of you…and I think it’s time I finally shared this with you- so you can maybe understand why it’s taken this long…”

Slowly he moved back and lifts his shirt off over his head, and for the first time you see his body is littered with scars of varying shapes and sizes. You gasp, standing slowly before reaching out to him hesitantly. Chan nods, letting you run your fingers across the slightly raised flesh with delicate touches. “Oh Channie….what happened?” Your voice was just above a whisper, your eyes looking up into his with sadness and he smiled at you reassuringly. “I was adopted by a man…a very evil man- he used me to win money for him in dog fights.” Your breath hitched, wincing at his words and he merely let out a bitter chuckle. “Yeah…sometimes it was normal dogs, other times hybrids…but it was pretty brutal. For the most part I stayed in my wolf form to stay warm since he made me sleep outside…all I ever knew from a young age was fighting and aggression. If I didn’t win then I didn’t eat, so I had to win.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I was…a monster- I hurt so many innocent creatures and it wasn’t either of our faults…but I still feel so much guilt-“

You frowned, your hands coming up to cup his face. “Chan, stop…you were forced to do those things….it doesn’t reflect on who you are as a person. I’m not going to lie, I was afraid of you at first but that wasn’t fair of me. You are so kind, so warm and caring….you love us all so much and you do such a good job protecting us. You say you are proud of me but…but I’m so proud of you. For all you’ve been through and all you’ve done to get here.”

He hadn’t realized but tears had started to roll down his cheeks, the hot wet feeling startling him a bit but you didn’t bat an eye as he began to cry softly. Strong arms pulled you in close and you let it happen, burying your face into his chest as you left him find comfort in the embrace, you yourself relaxing tremendously at the feeling of warmth and protection surrounding you. “Thank you for taking such good care of us…” he whispered, giving a kiss to the top of your head before slowly pulling away. “Thank you for letting me.” You responded, giving him a warm smile before pulling him close again.

After you left Chan’s room you headed for the room you shared with Jeongin, finding him sitting on the bed staring off at nothing in particular. “Um…Innie? You okay?” Seemingly snapping out of his trance, the fox nodded and scooted over for you to join him and you did, wordlessly sitting beside him so that your thighs and shoulders brushed against each other lightly. “Pretty- um…I need to tell you something and it’s gonna sound kinda silly but I’m being serious.” You frowned, nodding at him slowly though you worried slightly what it was he needed to talk about with you after the days events. “Go ahead, Jeongin. You’ve got me worried now-“ He sighed, looking down at his lap. “I know- that’s the thing….I know everything you’re feeling- mentally and physically…that’s not- I think something happened when I bit you that shouldn’t have been possible.”

Huh- what was he even talking about. Sure, you noticed that lately you seemed to be so in sync with the hybrid, seeming to know what was going through his head before he voiced it. It was like- you were connected but you didn’t know how. “What are you getting at, innie? I don’t think I understand-“

The fox groaned, turning to face you and taking your hands into his own. Even then you could feel his frustration as he struggled to come out and say what he needed to. “When I bit you- I was trying to claim you. To make you my mate. You know- like some animals do? And it shouldn’t have worked because you aren’t a hybrid….but I think somehow it did.” That caused you to freeze, eyes widening slowly with shock. Oh- that….that would explain so much. “You….you think you mated me? But wait wait…what to you mean you were actually trying to do that? I just thought you bit me cause you were mad I was spending so much time with Minho-“

Jeongin was shocked, jaw dropped as he looked at you dumbfounded. “Pretty…my pretty- I wasn’t mad at you, I was mad at Minho-hyung. Because- well from the moment I saw you I just….I knew you were mine.” You frowned, hitting his arm lightly and he pouted at you. “I don’t mean it like that I mean like- we were meant to be. Me and you…maybe the universe thinks so too since they allowed me to mate you?” Blinking rapidly his words slowly settled in your mind, causing a blush to paint your cheeks. “Jeongin what are you saying…?” The fox smiled bashfully, turning his head away as he was suddenly having trouble looking you in your eye. “I’m saying…I’m saying that I love you.” You went to respond but he wasn’t finished, adding quickly “and not like a friend! I- I’m in love with you, pretty. So so in love it hurts and I couldn’t stand seeing you and Minho-hyung flirting and I couldn’t even think before I did it and I know it doesn’t mean as much to you as it does to me since you are a human but….but this is a big deal. And I’m sorry- I didn’t even ask you first or tell you how I felt…I don’t even think I really knew what I felt until after it was already done-“

You smiled at him, shaking your head as you cupped his face in both hands and brought him in for a soft kiss. Only your second kiss in life, your first having been to that evil man you were forced to marry. His lips were soft against your own, his breath hitched as he had never felt something quite as electrifying before. “This is a big deal to me too, innie…I think- I think things have changed in me since you bit- um mated me. I have started to….to be able to smell you all and I think my hearing has gotten stronger too- you changed me.” Worry laced his expression and the hybrid looked like he was about to apologize until you kissed him again, causing him to melt against you and the worry to wash out of him like opening the flood gates to a dam. Warm, soft, and as electrifying as the first, you thought to yourself that you could kiss him forever and you thought briefly that you weren’t sure if those were your own feelings or his. When you pulled away you rested your forehead against his, blush creeping up to the tips of your ears. “It doesn’t feel right to say that I love you back yet…I don’t even know what that feels like but I know I care about you…so deeply I can feel it in my bones. Even before you claimed me as your mate. Someday- I will hopefully be able to say it back but I wanna wait until I feel confident in those feelings…if you can be patient with me?”

Jeongin nodded, pulling you close to him as you let out a little squeal and nuzzled in closer. “I would wait until the end of the world just to hear you say it even worse…and even if you didn’t then- this would be enough. Knowing and feeling how much you care about me.”

author’s note; so a little bit angsty- next chapter is going to be….dark- like graphic depictions of violence dark- please read the warning before the chapter and read at your own discretion because there will be a lot going on (this is most likely going to be my darkest chapter of a fic yet….even darker than what happened in Going Dumb with Bunny-) so please please please if you get triggered easily pay attention to the warnings as I will do my best to make it to where those of you who do need the trigger warnings can still read it but will just be missing the um- explicit details hehe…fluff will proceed after ch8 I promise~ I’ll even throw in a special uuuhh surprise at the end of ch8 as an apology for how sad and emotional it will be-

taglist; (pink users I wasn’t able to tag) @coastinglove @estella-novella @chancloud8 @skzswife @motheraiya55 @zofia515 @skybluelixie @breadedloafs @inaribu00 @silly250 @royal-shinigami @thatgirlangelb @bby-boo4u @emmxxsworld @vampkittenb82 @h0rnyp0t @alisonyus @im-sinking-in-mud @ihrtlix @mrs-hwangh @danixiulin @wolfo2027 @kiaralynn3838 @ateez-atiny380 @daceyena @bookswillfindyouaway @blackcatpandora @popcatx0 @corgilover20 @marshmelonie @sassy-snassy @straykidslover2024 @xgridx @y4yayael @dreamerwasfound

[inkareds]

To Someone from A Warm Climate

Rhaenyra Targaryen (F! Reader)

8/10 - Unreal Unearth Event

nav // event masterlist // hotd m.list // ko-fi

✧.* word count: 6.1k ✧.* genre: GAYYYY GAY GAY GAY ✧.* warnings: irrelevant ass warning, I wrote this when I was sick at 2am on a fuck ton of stomach medicine! It is unedited and I don't know how it looks! I refuse to re-read it! Also female reader and like it kinda ooc for the Stark family and stuff.

"A joy, hard learned in winter was the warming of your bed // In summer's heat, I learned to dread, the comin' of the night"

What's better than a comforting friend in the cold?

Also quick info just in case people don't know: Rickon Stark and Gilliane Glover are Cregan's parents, Rickon has a brother named Bennard Stark who had 3 sons, Benjen, Brandon, and Elric.

(ps I have not watched the new episodes so I don't know how they handled Cregan and Jacaerys there)

“You seem cold, princess.” Rhaenyra quickly turned her head around at the voice.

You politely bow when she meets your gaze. 

“Alas, it seems the north’s climate is not for me.” She answers as you smile at her words. 

“It rarely is for people from the south.” Walking closer to her you introduce yourself. “Lord Bennard’s youngest bastard.” 

Rhaenyra’s face morphed into that of a confused wonder at your brazen statement. 

“I did not see you when Lord Rickon introduced his house, Lady Snow-”

“I am neither a lady nor part of the great House Stark, addressing me by my first name is enough, princess.”

Rhaenyra chuckled as you moved closer towards her. Truth be told, you didn’t think you’d be received as warmly as you are now by Rhaenyra. 

You had heard of the news that the princess would conduct her tour to find a suitor across Westeros a while ago. Of course, it would take ages before she arrived in Winterfell, but now that she was here it felt surreal. 

Just a few hours ago you were able to sneak around The Great Keep within Winterfell Castle to be able to see the princess’ first introductions towards your family. Lord Rickon Stark, your uncle, introduced himself and his younger brother, your father, Bennard Stark, as well as his sons, your half-brothers, Benjen, Brandon, and Elric Stark. Being a bastard, you weren’t allowed to attend this formal event, though that didn’t mean you couldn’t spy on them. 

The princess was radiant, despite her long travels, she was still able to keep her head held high and regality was clear in the way she spoke. Though the Lady Stark, Gilliane Glover warned you on approaching the princess, fearing what your father’s punishment to you would be, you couldn’t help yourself. 

So now you find yourself here, side by side next to the princess, talking as carelessly as you usually would. 

“Where are your knights, princess? I didn’t expect you to walk around unattended.” You looked around not seeing any guards around her, including the tall one who seemed to follow her around everywhere. 

“I sent them away, for the time being, I’d like to enjoy the snow alone.” 

She smiled at you as you understood what she meant, nodding and taking a few steps back you spoke, “Ah, I see, forgive me then. I shall leave you to your devices.” 

That was when she laughed, a sound so melodic you now understood why they called her the Realm’s Delight. 

“Apologies, I do not mean you, I mean alone away from men. After my long tour, I bore at the sight of many of them tripping over themselves trying to win my favour.” Hearing that you picked yourself back up and placed yourself back by her side. 

“I do not blame them, if I were a Lord from a noble house, I would swear my land, blood, and soul for you.” From the corner of your eye, you see the young princess open her mouth ever so slightly to say something, before looking back out into the falling snow. 

“Are you enjoying the summer snow, Your Highness?” 

“Summer?” Rhaenyra sputtered, “I’m afraid it is far too cold for summer.” 

She turned towards you with an expression of disbelief, but you only laughed and stepped out from the shade over you into the snow. Rhaenyra watched as the light snow trickled onto your many furs and hair, all the while you reached out to grab some on your naked hand. 

“Would you mind taking off one of your gloves, Your Highness?” 

Confused but intrigued, Rhaenyra took off her glove on her right hand, as you placed some of the snowflakes on her open palm. Holding her hand in both of yours so that she wouldn’t be too cold without the glove you began explaining. 

“The North is cold, far too cold for any real summers that I’m sure you experience. But when winter comes, the snowflakes will be sharper and harder to the touch.” Rhaenyra lightly crushed the snowflakes in her hands, feeling them melt almost immediately. “Summer snow, on the other side, is softer and wetter. It melts the moment your body heat touches it. And it only happens in the morning such as now. By noon, all the snow will be gone and the farmers will start tending to their crops.”

Rhaenyra intently listened as you explained. She was far too young last she went to The North, all she remembered was the everlasting cold the entire time she was there with her father and late mother. How she used to pout as a mere toddler due to the chill. 

Thinking back on it a shiver ran through her. You took notice of this and immediately wiped the melted snow from the princess’ hands and urged her to quickly use her glove again. 

“I mustn't keep forgetting how cold Southerners get this far North. If you will allow me, princess, I know a place in The Great Keep where it should be warmer, while simultaneously allowing you to still enjoy the view.” 

You had expected Rhaenyra to politely decline your invitation, you’d been acting far too forward with her and you wondered when you’d be reminded of the difference in your status. But, surprising you, and herself, Rhaenyra agreed, her want for warmth overpowering her duties. Knowing right now she should be returning to her chambers and readying herself for a feast with the Starks. 

But she couldn’t help herself be led by the bastard girl with too few sugar-coated words. You led her through mazes of hallways you grew up in, looking to your side now and again to watch Rhaenyra wonder at the sheer size of Winterfell. The castle was big, you knew that much, and from what little Gilliane Glover was able to teach you behind your father’s back, you heard it was almost three times bigger than the Red Keep where the princess resided. 

When you finally reached where you wanted the air was much warmer than it had been and it had stopped snowing. 

“Touch the walls,” you instructed the princess as you gracefully leaned on one. 

Rhaenyra reached to touch the cobblestone walls, it was surprisingly warm to the touch, almost hot in certain parts. Despite where they are, a simple hallway which opens to the outside. The view was breathtaking. A large tree was in sight and plants flourished on the ground. Colourful wildflowers of all shades of blue, purple, and pink decorated the landscape. 

“How can the wildflowers grow here?” She asked. 

“Do you see over there? The smoke?” you pointed out not so far out, and truth be told there was some billowing smoke. “Those are the springs which Winterfell is built around. I can’t take you there as a lot of servants and maids are there to care for it. But it is the warmest place in all of the north. The waters there are then distributed through pipes all within the walls to warm the castle.” 

Seeing the way Rhaenyra kept listening, you continued, rather happy to have someone to talk to other than maids or servants twice your age. 

“This area of the castle is where most of the main pipes converge, that’s why it’s the warmest. Aside from the solar and the Starks’ bed chambers.” 

“It is still awfully cold.” Rhaenyra muses, though with the way she grinned you suspected she was just jesting. So, you chuckled. 

“I guess, I wouldn’t know. The cold is all I ever known.” You spoke with a smile, staring out into the plants swaying lightly against the wind. 

Hearing this, the young princess looked at you with her brows furrowed. 

“Have you not left the North? Surely you must, as Lord Bennard’s daughter I assumed you are well traveled.” 

You shook your head, biting the inside of your cheek, wondering how to explain your predicament to the princess without souring the mood. 

“I assume you think this way because I’m living here rather than discarded like most bastards are?” Rhaenyra’s silence was telling, “Lady Gilliane Glover was the one who took me in after she found out of my existence. I assume she wanted another lady in the castle, considering she has no child of her own and my father has all sons.” 

You fiddled with your fingers out of general nerves. You did not want to sadden the princess or make her uncomfortable with your sob story. You’ve accepted it, but it seems anyone you’ve told it to have been pitiful about it. 

“Despite my father’s wishes, she took me in.” You told her honestly.  “I have no titles nor duties, I’m simply here to accompany the lady.” 

You finally lifted your head to smile at Rhaenyra. Truth be told, you wondered at times what would happen to you once the lady passes or once she has a child of her own. Alas, what happens in the future will stay a mystery until it comes. 

Feeling the silence to be slowly stifling, you broke the sullen atmosphere. 

“But I wouldn’t know where to go even if I had the chance to travel. What do you recommend princess? Where do you like to go? I’m sure you’ve been on a lot of adventures on your great dragon.” 

At the mention of Syrax, a soft smile crept its way onto Rhaenyra’s expression. Causing your heart to skip a beat. 

“Dragonstone.” she stated without much thought. “It overlooks the sea, you could hear the waves crash against stone as you slumber, it is comforting.” 

Before you can ask further about Dragonstone, her ancestral seat, Lady Giliane Glover rushes into the area. 

“Your Highness, I didn’t expect to find you here.” She quickly bowed before her gaze met towards you. 

You bashfully avoid her questioning gaze, knowing you’re up for an earful once she gets you alone. Lady Gilliane had always reminded you to keep your head low, afraid that you may invoke your father’s anger and get banished from the castle walls. But oftentimes, you couldn’t help yourself. After all, it wasn’t your fault your half-brothers, though older, were dumber and much more susceptible to pranks. 

“Excuse me, I was looking for my niece, it seems I should’ve known she was bothering you.” Gilliane spoke softly, giving an apologetic smile towards the princess. 

To which Rhaenyra shook her head, looking between the two of you she realises the time. Despite her annoyance over having to be seated with three potential suitors, all sons of Bennard Stark, she must fulfil her duty. 

“Nonsense, she was showing me around, the castle is far too large and I found myself at a lost on how to go to where I wanted.” 

“Of course! I should have appointed one of ours to accompany you.” 

Rhaenyra went silent for a little bit, briefly looking beside her at you, not that you noticed, your gaze sticking only at Gilliane’s. 

“Right, I must return to my chambers now. I wish to rest before the feast.” 

Gilliane nodded and motioned for one of her guards to lead the princess towards her room. When they were out of earshot that’s when she placed her attention on you. 

“You just couldn’t help yourself can you?” Though her words were sharp, her tone was light and kind. 

“Apologies, my lady. The princess looked lonely.” 

She sighed as a response, bringing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, shaking her head ever so slightly. 

“What will I do with you, dear child.” She chuckled as she grasped your hand in hers. 

The older woman smiled at you. You’ve always known she had a soft spot for you, but every day you were still grateful for her kindness. As the two of you walked, Gilliane leaned in towards you. 

“I hope you are as kind to my child as you are to the princess.” 

Your eyes widened, “You are expecting, my lady?!” 

Gilliane grinned widely and patted your head. 

“I am, a son I feel, though we will only know for sure when the babe comes. But when they do, I hope you will care for them as I have cared for you. I have a feeling your half-brothers will not be as welcoming.” 

Hearing the news you nodded to her. That day a silent oath was spoken in your mind. To repay all of Lady  Gilliane Glover’s kindness, you’ll make sure to protect her child no matter what. 

~

Unfortunately for you, despite your best efforts, you were not able to talk to Rhaenyra for the entirety of her visit to Winterfell. At Lord Rickon Stark’s insistence, Rhaenyra always had a maid, servant, or knight with her throughout the day to guide her and give her a tour of Winterfell as a whole. 

Because of this, the princess hadn’t had a single moment alone except when she slept. Considering how Bennard Stark had warned you the day after he heard the news that you were speaking to the princess unattended, you didn’t want people to see you talking to the princess, afraid of the consequences to her reputation. 

After all, she shouldn’t be seen talking carelessly to a thrown-away bastard such as yourself. 

Nonetheless, you still came across her quite often. Having no real duties except accompanying Lady Gilliane who was now quite busy with dealing with the royal guest in her home. You roamed around the castle mindlessly more often than not. So you ran across the princess a lot as well. 

Every time you did see her, she looked quite tired and lonely. At times you wondered if she was getting enough sleep, if her room was too cold for her. 

“You know, I heard the princess was fond of lace,” Lady Gilliane suddenly spoke. 

The two of you were currently in the library taking a well-deserved break, well, well-deserved on Lady Gilliane’s part. Your head quirked in confusion at her sudden statement. You had been so engrossed in your book about Dragonstone that you hadn’t been paying attention to the lady. 

“Is that so, my lady?” You questioned. 

You looked up from your book at her who was currently in her book. One about fairytales, you wondered if she was memorising them for when her babe would arrive. 

“Yes, and I have also heard that you finished your lace handkerchief recently.” 

Your eyes widened at the sight of Lady Gilliane’s knowing grin. 

“That, I have, my lady.” You mused to yourself, standing up from where you were seated, “If you will excuse me, I remembered I promised Elric that I’d watch his archery practice.” 

Even you rolled your rolled your eyes the moment the excuse came out of your mouth. Lady Gilliane stifled a chuckle at the obvious lie. 

“Right, wouldn’t want to make your half-brother wait, I’m glad the two of you are getting along well.” Sarcasm was laced strongly in her statement.

That was how you found yourself currently inside Rhaenyra’s room, waiting for her to finish another feast with the Starks, fiddling with the lace handkerchief in your hands. Tonight would be the last night Rhaenyra Targaryen would be staying in the North. After days of conversing with your family and meeting other suitable suitors within the area, she will finally go back South to continue her tour tomorrow morning. 

This would be the last time you’d be able to speak with the princess. 

You quickly stood up from where you were sitting when the heavy doors opened. In came a weary-looking princess, whose whole demeanour froze up when she saw you. You froze for a moment as well, seeing her, heat filling your body at the realisation that she could easily have you banished from Winterfell if she thought you were overstepping. 

But you swallowed the lump in your throat and decided to go for it. After all, what can a bastard lose?

“My princess, apologies, I knew I wouldn’t have been able to speak with you in the company of my uncle’s men or your own men. So I thought it would be best to wait in your chambers. I wanted to give you this,” you sputtered, wanting to make your point before Rhaenyra called for the guards to kick you out of her chambers. 

Rhaenyra’s silence caused anxiety to bubble up within you, as you walked towards her to hand her the handkerchief. Truth be told, it wasn’t a functional handkerchief, as such was the properties of lace, sheer and delicate. But you had created it in the shape of one, so you called it one.

She picked up the delicate white lace from your hands, your fingers briefly brushing against one another causing sparks to flow from your fingertips into your heart. Was the princess always this beautiful? 

Rhaenyra observed the design, letting her dainty hands caress the intricate patterns and craftsmanship. It was far from perfect and definitely far from the quality of lace professional lacemakers in King’s Landing would create for her dresses. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel a tightening feeling in her heart the more she caressed the fabric. 

“I had only wanted to practice my craftsmanship, but when I finished it reminded me of you.” 

The design was that of a flower, one that Rhaenyra did not recognise. 

“What flower is this?” 

“Snowdrop, my lady, it is a flower that grows in the cold. They look quite delicate and soft but are one of the hardiest and strongest flowers I know. They also symbolise hope.” You explained quickly, hands behind your back fidgeting against the stitching of your dress. 

Rhaenyra looked closer at the lace. 

“Hope,” she slowly looked up at you and smiled. 

A dazzling one, one that would buckle your knees and make you melt to the ground as if you were hit with Dorne’s heat. 

“I-” she started holding the lace, “I’ll treasure it, thank you.” 

Hearing her heartfelt statement brought a bright smile to your face. Quickly followed by a rush of heat. The princess seems to have a flustering effect on you. 

When silence followed suit, you nodded to yourself and were just about to walk past the princess to leave, feeling awkward now that you didn’t know what else to say. But mimicking the first time you met, Rhaenyra stopped you again. 

“It’s cold.” She suddenly stated. 

You quirked your head to the side slightly at the confusing sudden statement. 

“I can ask the servants to bring more firewood to your fireplace if you’d like.” 

Rhaenyra shook her head, taking a few steps closer to you. 

“I don’t think that’ll be much help. I’m asking if you’d like to stay here for the night, I feel as though it is loneliness that’s causing a chill in my bones. It would bring me comfort to have a friend accompany my last night in this foreign land.” 

Immediately you were thankful for the darkness, aside from the large fireplace which warmed the room, you were both in. Considering your expression at her question probably exposed your flustered interior. After a short pause to recollect yourself. You smiled warmly at the princess. 

“My father did tell me to make sure the Targaryens are well cared for. I would be distraught if you slept cold on your last night here.” 

With a giggle, Rhaenyra quickly grabbed your hand and headed straight to in front of the fireplace. That night the two of you spoke like old friends. Though at first, you baulked at the casualness of which you were speaking to someone of a much higher class than you were. You were quickly charmed by Rhaenyra’s friendly nature. 

Though you did not know it, your company had brought more comfort to Rhaenyra than you could ever imagine. The bone-chilling loneliness she’d been experiencing due to the loss of her friend Alicent, had brought much grief to her. The ease with which your conversation flowed as you both joked and jested with one another reminded her of an easier time. 

As the night went deeper, the two of you found yourselves in bed. It reminded you of the first few times you had been brought into the castle, confused and lost at how a common beggar such as yourself could suddenly be brought into the castle where you seldom sleep. That is until Lady Gilliane caught wind of it and slept in your bedchambers with you until you got used to the noble life.

Though, of course, the stakes were slightly different this time. Although the way your heart was hammering against your chest was quite similar, you guessed the reasoning for it was different. Back then, it was the nervousness of feeling unworthy of the attention of a noble. This time, it was nervousness from something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on just yet. 

But now as you stared into Rhaenyra’s eyes, both of you lay on her bed on your sides you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“You remind me of snow, princess.” 

Rhaenyra’s brows quirked in a way you found positively adorable. 

“Soft and beautiful but with the ability to be harsh and strong. The colour of your hair helps with the imagery as well.” You added the last bit to lighten the mood of your statement a little bit. 

Something that seemed to work as the princess grinned. 

“You remind me of a wolf.” She stated, “Strong and resilient, yet loyal and intelligent. Equally as beautiful as well.” 

She whispered the last part. 

A comforting silence then befalls between the two of you. You couldn’t help but get lost in the princess’ eyes. They were so full of life, that you wondered what it would look like in any other times. What did Princess Rhaenyra look like when she was elated? When she’s entertained? When she’s sad? Angry? Terrified? In love? 

You guessed she must look beautiful no matter what. The image in your mind pushed your hand to move not according to your own volition. You brought one of your hands to the princess’ cheek, caressing her soft skin under your fingertips ever so slightly. 

Rhaenyra’s lips parted in shock, though she did not pull back, quite the contrary. She leaned closer to your face. Without thinking twice, you closed the distance between you, your lips shyly touching her own. Rhaenyra reciprocated as shyly. A chaste kiss was shared before you jolted backwards. 

Quickly sitting up, you covered your mouth in shock. What have you done?

“Princess! I’m sorry– I– I overstep. I forget myself. My deepest apologies–” You muttered nonsensically before fully standing up on the floor and rushing towards the doors. 

Leaving Rhaenyra silent and shocked on the bed. Her fingers touch her lips ever so slightly at the soft touch of your lips. Remembering the short moment, a small smile crept onto her face, though you were now halfway on your way back to your room. Mortified and terrified for the morning. 

~

When morning did end up coming, you did not expect to be woken up by some maids. Usually, both your father and the reigning Lord Rickon Stark left you on your own. Choosing to forget about your existence. This led to you dealing with your own empty schedule yourself, as Lady Gilliane was usually only free at noon or afternoons anyway. Which were the times she would want you to accompany her. 

You’d usually make your way to the kitchens to have breakfast or an early lunch with the other maids, eating whatever food they provided for you. 

But this time, maids quickly came into your room and went to wake you. Surprising you. They quickly drew a bath and fussed over your appearance. Before you could properly regain your thoughts and get a concise answer on why they were treating you as one of the Starks, you were already pushed out of your chambers and led outside. 

When you saw the crowd from afar, that was when you realised something. You were going to be with your family to bid Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen farewell. How mortifying!

Finally being led to your side of the family, you stood beside your youngest half-brother Elric Stark who glared at you. In the corner of your vision, you see Lady Gilliane look over towards you, clueing you on who set up the entire thing. 

Not too long after a myriad of armed guards left the building and behind them followed the princess. 

She looked radiant, her hair in intricate braids which reminded you of the drawings of Visenya you’ve seen in books. Her dress was layered with coats upon coats of fur, clearly preferring to wear more outer layers than making sure her dress was thick enough, likely to make the changing climates as she leaves the north easier to deal with. 

As customs dictate, she thanks Lord Rickon Stark and Lady Gilliane Glover for their hospitality. She then respectfully regarded your father and your half-brothers. You kept your head held high but avoided her gaze as she walked towards her carriage. 

Right before she reached there, she stopped in front of you. With nowhere else to look you looked at the princess. 

“I thank you for your company, it was a pleasure meeting you.” She grasped your hand in hers and you felt her discretely hand you something. “I wish to take you to Dragonstone if time allows it. I shall request you to be one of my ladies-in-waiting formally later on once I have reached King’s Landing.” 

Your eyes widened at her statement. The offer wasn’t an offer given to bastards such as yourself. They were given to daughters of second-rated houses so that they may learn under a daughter of a higher house. Not someone like you who belongs to no house. 

“I am honoured at your offer, princess, I pray for your safe travels.” You bowed your head as Rhaenyra nodded and made her way towards the carriage. 

You brought your hand to your back, hiding the item she handed to you discretely. 

You would later find out after the entire ordeal was over, that she had handed you a necklace of hers. It was a simple yet intricate necklace, one made of silver chain which held a trinket shaped like a three-headed dragon. You held the gesture close to your heart, thanking the old gods and the new that she did not push away your advancements. 

Lady Gilliane could only chuckle as she heard you tell what happened in Rhaenyra’s chambers. Though you did omit the details about the kiss. 

~

In the year that followed, Cregan Stark was born, two years after, your lady would give the realm another Stark heir. Though it was then the animosity between Lord Bennard as well as his sons, your half-brothers, and Cregan. 

You had assumed they thought the Winterfell seat would fall onto them, considering Lord Rickon Stark was old and had not had an heir yet. That was until Cregan and his younger brother. 

Seeing this, you did everything you could to protect the two of them from your father’s selfishness, knowing firsthand what his scheming was like. It got even worse at the birth of Sara Snow and Cregan’s insistence on keeping his little sister in his life. 

It wouldn’t be long after that when Lord Rickon Stark would travel to King’s Landing to pledge loyalty to Rhaenyra as heir to the throne. A part of you wished you could come with him, you wanted to see what Rhaenyra was like now. But another part of you knew you needed to stay in Winterfell and protect Lord Rickon’s children in his absence. 

When the time came and Lord Rickon passed, followed by Lady Gilliane and their youngest child, Cregan was far too young to rule. You could only watch in the background as your father took the seat until Cregan was of age. Though when he finally did, your father slowed to give the seat. 

You could feel tensions rise between them, tensions which could easily bleed into bloodshed. Though you had no sympathy nor love for any of your half-brothers or your father. You did not wish for their deaths, after all, they were family, whether you liked it or not. 

So, you came to Cregan with a proposition. Your help to get his seat back without unnecessary bloodshed which could tear Winterfell into two, in return for a seat in his council. It need not be official if he did not want Lords of different lands to wonder why a woman was counselling him. You just wanted him to make use of your mind and the ease that came with being a bastard who had no need to uphold a family name. 

He was quick to accept your proposition, having no reason to distrust you after the years you’ve spent together. The events which followed came in quick succession afterwards. You betrayed your father and half-brother, imprisoned them, and were quick to name Cregan Stark the Lord of Winterfell. In return, he officially gave you a spot in his council. 

Your life became quite different after that. With your new duties and responsibilities, you were quick to drown yourself in work and books. Filling your mind with knowledge and anything that may help your cousin in dealing with the tumultuous land that is the North. 

You had barely any time to think about Rhaenyra or anything considering the politics of King’s Landing, leaving that to Cregan as he left the inner workings of Winterfell to you. 

That is, until a dragon arrives in Winterfell. 

~

“Who is it?” You quickly asked Cregan, who despite his much younger age than you, had grown taller and stronger than you. 

“I assume either Aegon asking us to place our loyalty on him or one of Queen Rhaenyra’s sons.” You grinned. 

“You called her queen,” you stated Cregan’s words, who rolled his eyes, “I only hope it is not Aegon, if it is, I think we’ll have quite the sour visit.” 

Though your words were light, a part of you hoped it was one of Rhaenyra’s sons. At this point, you hadn’t seen her for too many years and a small hopeful part of you yearned to meet her once more. Or at the very least, see a semblance of her in the shape of her son. 

As Cregan wanted to greet the guest alone you excused yourself and returned to your work. There was no point in hoping for something that may not be true. But as you grabbed a piece of paper detailing the current stocks of wheat, your eyes dragged onto an ornate box neatly kept beside your bed. 

Where it has been for decades. 

Gritting your teeth and wondering if you should, your heart went against your mind and you stood from your table to reach for it. Holding the black and red box in your hands you, once again, debated on opening it. In the beginning, you would open the box and observe its content almost every day after you woke up and just before you slept. 

Now the box had stayed closed after Lord Rickon’s passing, considering you had to focus on Cregan and not your own silly fantasies. 

But today, you couldn’t help yourself. Your fingers danced on the latch before opening the box, within it a single object lays flat. The necklace was as beautiful as the day you received it. The dragons looking at you with its menacing eyes. You caressed it with a smile, reminiscing about a simpler time. 

You closed it back once you’ve wasted enough time and went back to your work. 

It was late at night once you finished your calculations. As always you brought your findings to Cregan’s study, it was late at night, you assumed he must’ve already finished his talks with the guest and had ushered whoever it was to rest. 

It brought you great surprise to open the doors of his study only to find him laughing with said guest. A bottle of expensive Dornish wine opened and drained of its contents on the table beside them. Seeing his dark curls, you assumed the young man in front of you now was Jacaerys Velaryon. Rhaenyra’s son. And not Aegon. 

Hearing the door open, Cregan was quick to look at who would dare enter without announcing themselves. Only immediately relaxing when he saw that it was you. With a smile he stood from where he sat, Jacaerys quickly followed suit. 

“This woman here is my advisor. She is my half-cousin, though I consider her almost like a sister.” He explained after introducing your name. 

“My lords, apologies for interrupting, I had brought the crop stocks you had asked for early this morning.” You motioned towards the papers you were currently holding. 

Cregan was quick to sober, he took the papers as you handed and placed them in a neat pile on his table. 

“Thank you, I will look through them as soon as I can-”

“You are her.” Both you and Cregan snapped your head towards Jacaerys’ voice, confused at his coded statement. Realising his mistake, Jacaerys shook his head, “Apologies, I meant that I did not expect you to match exactly the descriptions my mother told to me.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and so did Cregan’s. 

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, my mother, had asked me to relay a message to you if I were to find you. You are the Lady Snow, yes?” 

At the question, you stifled a chuckle, a sense of deja vu at your first meeting with Rhaenyra hitting you once again. 

“I am not a lady but yes, I suppose I am, unless you are referencing to Sara.” 

“No– My mother wanted to extend an invitation to you.” Cregan now stood straighter at Jacaerys words, brows furrowing.

You gently placed a hand on his arm, silently willing him to relax. Unfortunately for him, you had never told him about your quick friendship with Rhaenyra. So you assumed he thought Jacaerys’ statement sounded rather dangerous. 

“She said she wanted to honour her promise that she made years ago about taking you to Dragonstone.” 

Your eyes, along with Cregan’s, widened like plates. 

“What?” Cregan was the first to break the sudden silence. Though you were quick to hold his arm, signing silently to him that it wasn’t anything threatening. Despite the odd way Jacaerys speaking. 

“I’m–” you awkwardly chuckled, “I’ll be frank– I can’t believe she still remembered that. I– I have too much work here, summer is about to end and winter is coming. Perhaps,” you fiddled with your fingers your mind working in double time, “Perhaps, I’ll take up on your offer once this war is over. I trust my cousin followed the oath the late Lord Rickon made when swearing Princess Rhaenyra as heir?” 

Jacaerys and Cregan looked at each other for a bit before nodding, “Indeed I have.” 

You nodded and turned, “Then I shall take my leave.” 

“I’ll accompany you back to your bedchambers, dear cousin.” Cregan, ever the protective person, was quick to state. 

With a nod, you both turned to walk out the door, before you remembered something. Considering Cregan’s busy schedule and your own, you didn’t know when would be the last time you’d see Jacaerys. So you quickly went over towards him, taking off the necklace around your neck and handing it to him. 

“When you leave, I’d like for you to give this to the Queen, as a token of my gratitude.” You smiled and returned to where Cregan was once Jacaerys nodded and pocketed the necklace. 

Cregan watched with furrowed brows as the two of you walked away. 

“Why would you give him that? You’ve worn that necklace for as long as I remembered.” He asked once the two of you were out of earshot. 

“Do you recall ever seeing the pendant at the middle of the necklace?” 

He scoffed. 

“Never, you always wore it backwards.” 

“Precisely, I only want the princess to see the engravings.” 

Before Cregan could ask you to elaborate you had returned to your room. 

~

Amid chaos and tragedy, Rhaenyra lay on her bed alone. After sending Daemon off to deal with an army north of Dragonstone on Caraxes, she could hardly sleep thinking about the atrocities both she and Aegon had done. Blood was spilt on both sides of the coin now that the war was deep in the works. 

It felt like just yesterday that her dearest Lucerys had been killed by Aemond. When in reality it had been months pass now. 

Her hand mindlessly grabbed at the necklace on her bedside table. The shivering cold silver grounded her to reality. It reminded her of the North and its cold. But when she turned the pendant around. A wry smile crept onto her features. 

There engraved in the pendant was the carving of a wolf, surrounded with snowdrops. 

Holding the pendant tight in the palm of her hands, she swore to win the war, take her rightful place as Queen, and finally fulfil her promise to you. 

[biolumien]

HELLO!! i dont normally send requests (up to a year in tumblr, i have only sent.. 2. including this one.) but i was wondering if you write platonic stuff? :') im deadly inlove with your works, never fails to disappoint huhuu and i adore them, and if you do, do you mind writing a hoshina x younger sibling reader? maybe they have a bad relationship with him and tries to make it up by joining the third division so that they could get closer, but he's just giving the cold shoulder and ignoring them. in the end the reader gets injured - hopefully this isn't too detailed!! i was also wondering if you take anons.. if you do - could i be 🐾 anon? mentioning this again but i seriously do love your works they're all so well written 🥹

notes: aaaa?!?!? im really honored that you decided to request something from me;; fun fact im actually an only child (lol) so i hope this is something you were looking for!! (i am still a bit sick >_<...

siblings, siblings...

soshiro hoshina & sibling!reader general description of injury and blood on your end. word count: 899

you and soshiro were never really close. as the youngest of the hoshina family and with the best unleashed combat power in guns, you were often lauded as the family’s best chance in the defense force—which put you at odds with soshiro’s utter lack of combat power in the firearms department. you’d tried to reach out—to talk, to do anything—but soichiro and soshiro never had time for you. 

or well, it seemed as if soshiro considered you his number one enemy. the antithesis of his existence—that by the fact you existed, it seemed as if he would be utterly worthless after all. 

when you transferred to the third division, you received no acknowledgement from soichiro or soshiro. 

“i trust you will lay your life down for the cause as effectively as you have in other divisions,” mina said to you on the day you were sworn in, your brother at her side. 

he didn’t look at you. 

“you have quite the impressive resume,” mina had said. “second and first division positions. an easy shoo-in for division leader right after gen narumi. what made you decide to enter the third division?” 

you’d swallowed, watching soshiro very pointedly not looking at you. 

“i… no reasons, in particular,” you’d lied. “just… um… curious in expanding my options. is all.” 

soshiro’s eyes had been cold. 

it was clear where the two of you stood, and soshiro wanted nothing to do with you, even if you’d basically demoted yourself from a cushy spot in the first division for it. the two of you rarely spoke—and if he ever acknowledged you at all, it was with one word responses or an affirmative, very stiff nod, as if it killed him utterly and completely to acknowledge you. 

were the two of you sweet once? had you run around the hoshina estate giggling once? had that been you?

…

would it ever be you again, even if it had? 

(you remember the taste of konpeito that soshiro would sneak you from soichiro’s collection of sweets, and he would raise a finger to his lips, telling you it was a secret.)

(but then why did you remember the feeling of asphalt against your feet on the days where soshiro seemed to forget to train as he dragged you towards the grass to play chase?)

(then why did you remember the times where you’d have a bad nightmare, but never felt brave enough to go to soichiro, so you’d always gone to soshiro instead? he’d laughed, cocky and brilliant even late at night and told you not to worry because he’d cut up your bad dreams. and you believed him, because he was your big brother and he’d never been wrong, never been cruel the way soichiro was to you and soshiro.)

why did you have to remember all of that?

you cough out a mouthful of blood. 

of course you only remember all of that right now as you bleed out. 

your eyes feel heavy.

what had the attack been, again? a yoju? a honju? you could’ve taken it down on your own, right? did it matter? your gun didn’t do anything—it couldn’t, laying uselessly on the ground next to you as you felt another choking mouthful of blood cloying against your lips. 

you want to scream. 

what was the point, you wanted to ask. what was the point of transferring if your brother wouldn’t acknowledge you—even though all you wanted to do was speak to him again? 

“don’t close your eyes.”

thank god you still have enough energy for your eyes to fly open, staring up at soshiro, who leaned down to haul you to your feet—but really he was putting most of your weight on him, your feet barely scraping the floor. 

“soshiro,” you rasp. “why?” 

“that’s what i should be asking you,” soshiro’s voice was still cold. distant, as he began walking you back towards the other troops—carefully, so as to not upset your wounds. “why did you transfer out of the first division? from what i heard, you were making quite the name for yourself out there. needed to steal my spotlight that badly?” 

“that’s not it,” you snap, wincing in pain. “i just wanted my brother back. is that so much to ask for? i figure it is, because you just randomly stopped talking to me for no goddamn reason!” 

you feel soshiro freeze up. 

“you wouldn’t get it.”

he sounds resentful. 

“fuck no i wouldn’t!” you say. “i don’t know what’s going on because you won’t tell me! but the only thing i do know is that i want to be able to talk to at least one of my big brothers that doesn’t treat me like shit! because as it stands right now, both of you do!” 

you gasp out in pain, coughing up another mouthful of blood. 

soshiro’s body is still tense, his hand tightening where it’s wrapped around your arm. 

“i’m—” soshiro mutters. “sorry. i—i just.” he laughs. “i’m a sorry excuse for an older brother, huh?” 

“you are,” you retort, and soshiro laughs again, and he sounds almost like he did when the two of you were younger. 

“let’s go home,” soshiro says after a moment, his voice less resentful now. 

you feel almost like a kid again in that moment, leaning on soshiro after you’d fallen during tag, having scraped your knee. 

“okay,” you wheeze out. “okay.” 

[rawan-soso]

Hello, my name is Rawan. I am a 21 year old engineering student and I live in Northern Gaza with my family. Since the beginning of the war, we have been displaced more than 30 times and we have suffered from famine and illnesses. The situation has gotten better thanks to my campaign, but if I can’t get more donations, it will get worse again at the worst time, in the middle of winter.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #347 )✅️

I am here to ask for your help. Sharing my post and my campaign can mean that someone who can donate will see us. It can save our lives!

A lot of our money recently had to be spent on firewood and the few winter clothes we could afford. We still don’t have enough for everyone and we are still freezing, but we can’t afford to spend more money on this. You see, we have a rent to pay. $500 every single month for one room with no door or windows that shelters 10 of us in a destroyed house. We live amongst bugs and rodents, but it’s still the better option. We used to live in a school until it was bombed. That kind of shelter is too dangerous and so is sleeping on the streets, so we can’t afford to miss out on rent.

Then we also have to buy food, of course. I swear, I never in my life thought that food could become so expensive. When we have enough donations, we can have one meal a day. It used to be flour bread, but with the siege, flour has become too expensive again. All we can find is expired canned food that I refuse to eat because it makes me sick. When we get a lot of money, we buy a few vegetables for way too much money. In the picture below, we paid $80 for these two vegetables. We haven’t tasted fruits or meat for more than a year.

Because of the lack of vitamins, we all suffer from malnutrition. My grandmother now has to use a wheelchair and suffers from many conditions including high blood pressure. My mother was also diagnosed with high blood pressure recently and has a severe infection in her eye. I suffer from hypothyroidism which I can’t access treatment for anymore as well as a bacterial skin infection that feels like it’s burning my whole body, even spreading to my face, due to our living conditions and the polluted air and water. Medicines are a distant dream because we need to buy food and pay rent first.

My youngest sister Soso, who recently turned 4, also suffers from malnutrition and shock from seeing people get ripped apart by bombs multiple times. She cries from hunger at night as she blocks the sounds of bombs with her hands on her ears. It breaks me that I can’t provide her with her basic rights as a child. I don’t know how to explain it to her.

We recently had to spend about $2,000 on a portable battery because it was becoming increasingly harder to find ways to charge my phone, and without my phone I can’t access the little money we have or promote my campaign. It feels like an impossible situation where I have to spend $100 every time I am given $10. It is exhausting. I can’t see the end of it and my hard work isn’t paying, people always stop hearing me after a few days. I am extremely depressed. The only people donating lately are my friends and my family members abroad, but they can only give so much.

Please help us. I swear I wouldn’t ask if there was another choice. If you can’t donate, please share widely, because there is someone out there who can. Every repost helps, every sharing of the campaign link helps, please. Soso deserves to have a full stomach as we wait until we can rebuild our lives.

[mooniiify]

when we were young | wriothesley x reader

synopsis: their first years at the fortress of meropede were hard, but wriothesley will always find a way to take care of his girl word count: 1.2k cw: fem!reader, kinda angsty? fluff mostly, use of y/n, not proofread sorry folks notes: came to me at like 1 am last night, i'm so down bad for this man and i don't even have him in game sigh; also this is kinda the ‘what if’ version of another story that’s currently in the works hehe

She was used to the monotonous lifestyle at this point. Three years had passed since their sentencing. She could still remember as she stood next to Wriothesley in the Court of Fontaine, listening to Iudex Neuvillete announce to their seventeen-year-old selves they would be going to prison for killing their adoptive 'parents'. 

They weren't her parents. She'd only been with them for four years and never had she seen them as anything less than monsters. She wasn't sorry for taking their lives. Neither was Wriothesley. They were okay with the sentencing. 

Three years of living in banishment at the Fortress of Meropede, hundreths of meters underground, with no access to the outside world, yet she has never been happier. She liked the motonous lifestyle. She liked her job at the Fortress, she liked helping people, but most of all, she liked seeing Wriothesley at the end of the day. 

She still sometimes longed for the freedom the outside world provided, of course. But as of right now, her eyes kept glancing at the small clock on her desk, watching as the hands of the clock move seemingly slower with every minute. 

The infirmary has been mostly quiet the whole evening. She'd been stuck with the later shift, meaning she would spend most of her night waiting in case someone came in with an injury or sickness. She wasn't the only nurse, but she was the youngest, so the others always gave her the worst shifts. She couldn't complain, not when her social status was much lower. 

Her legs were crossed, the one on top swinging lightly. She let her head fall back, letting out a sigh. Was there seriously no one getting injured today? Usually there would be a lot, especially about this time. Those Pankration Ring people--

Footsteps echoed from outside right into the infirmary. Y/n stood up at that, making her way to the stairs. Just as she was about to go up to investigate, three people appeared in front of her. 

Her eyes widened as she watched two inmates basically drag Wriothesley into the infirmary, his head hanging, his messy hair covering his eyes. 

''Oh my Archons.'' Y/n immediately moved to the side, allowing the two men to walk down the stairs as safely as they cold. ''Come on, bring him to the bed.'' 

Wriothesley groaned as the two men laid him down on one of the beds, Y/n quickly moving to his side to inspect the damage. Other than a bruise, his face looked okay, but he was clutching his side. She moved to touch around his ribcage, eliciting a wince out of him when she pressed against his lower ribs. 

She looked at the two men. ''What the hell happened?''

''I'm fine,'' Wriothesley groaned from under her, holding her wrist with one of his hands. 

Y/n ignored him, waiting for the men to speak. ''It's Pankration night,'' one of them finally said. 

That was all the information she needed. Y/n sighed, running a hand through her hair. ''Thank you for bringing him. I can take it from here. Go and enjoy the rest of your evening.'' 

The two men left without another word. Y/n lifted her hands over Wriothesley's body, chanelling her Hydro powers. Small streams of water appeared above Wriothesley, which she slowly lowered to his chest and the bruise on his face. She looked at his face, watching as his expression relaxed gradually the more the water healed him. 

As soon as she felt that his pain was gone, she willed for the water to disappear. Her hands fell back to her sides as she watched Wriothesley sit up, dangling his legs over the bed. Their eyes met. He gave her one of his charming smiles. ''Thank you, darling.'' 

''What were you thinking?'' Y/n crossed her arms, watching as his grin fell, realizing he was, in fact, in trouble. ''Why were you fighting again? You know how much I hate seeing you hurt.''

Wriothesley chuckled. ''You should've seen the other guy. I won!''

''This isn't funny, Wriothesley.''

''No, not funny at all, darling.''

Y/n sighed, running a hand through her hair. ''Where's your Vision? Why didn't you use it to protect yourself?''

''I can't go against a normal person with a Vision, Y/n. I can't look like a sissy. Besides, it's not fair,'' Wriothesley explained as he finally stood up. Y/n looked up in his eyes, not saying anything. Wriothesley moved his hands around her, pulling her body flush against his. ''I can handle myself without my Vision, Y/n.''

''I know you're strong, Wrio. I just . . . I hate seeing you like this.'' She raised her hands to his cheek, gently caressing them with her thumbs. His bruise was gone now, but the old scar under his eye remained. She traced it with her thumb, feeling as Wriothesley melted under her touch. ''I don't get it. Why do you insist on fighting?'' Wriothesley was quiet. Oddly quiet. Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. ''What is it?''

He licked his lips. ''I just . . . I thougth that maybe, if I could make extra coupons by fighting, then neither of us would have to take on as many shifts and . . . we'd have more time for each other.'' 

Y/n blinked once, twice. She felt his hands tighten around her. 

''You're the only good thing left in this world and you've been so busy here recently, I've been missing you.'' Y/n's hands dropped to his waist as one of his moved up to her face. His fingers were gentle as they ran through her hair. ''You're only here because of me. If anything, I should be making sure you're not working at all.''

Her chest felt like it was about to burst. She leaned on her tip-toes, pulling him down so their lips would meet. She felt his hand fully move to the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. His lips were warm but slightly chapped, but they were his, and she wouldn't have it any other way. 

She pulled back soon enough, watching as Wriothesley's eyes fluttered open. ''What was that for?''

''Because I love you and I hate seeing you beat yourself up for things that aren't your fault.'' Y/n pressed her hands against his chest, looking up at him with a smile. ''You have to talk to me about things like that, Wrio. I'm sure we can figure things out together, if only we can discuss it.'' 

''But I want to take care of you.''

''I know you do,'' Y/n breathed out, her smile remaining. Her stomach felt like it was doing flips. How could she be so lucky to find someone so caring as Wriothesley? ''And I appreciate that. But we have to take care of each other, Wrio. There's a reason why there's two of us in this relationship.'' 

Wriothesley hummed, slowly nodding his head. ''Okay. If you . . . really don't want me to fight, then I'll stop. We can figure this out.''

''We will.'' Y/n pulled him back down, murmuring against his lips. ''Together.'' 

i may or may not have an idea for a part 2?

[ravenna-reid]

Admirer from the past...

TW: blood, mention of dead bodies and stalking/obsessive behaviour

An expert crime fighter. One of the youngest CEOs. A skilled detective. As good as the Bat. Maybe even better than him.

Tim often found himself conversing with police officers and other detectives that were actually qualified unlike him. Discussing the crime scene, the criminal, the victim, and the next course of action. They all respected Tim and were willing to work together.

One night Tim found himself standing amongst the chaos of the press, the solemn faces of detectives and officers and a name written in blood covering the footpath along with other gory things... The crimson letters painting the cement were a confronting display.

It was the works of a new villain, one that had only just started doing such things two weeks ago. He was one of the most psychotic men Tim had ever dealt with. And it seemed he had a nasty obsession with some poor girl, given he was constantly leaving dead bodies and flowers strewn across Gotham City dedicated to her.

Honestly, the situation twisted Tim's stomach, making him all the more adamant on finding this fucked up guy in hopes of sparing his target the fear and trauma.

Tim kept to himself as he tried to analyse the scene, picking up clues and taking his own samples. That was until the screech of tires on the road caught his attention. Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw another well known detective pull up beside the crime scene and hastily get out of his car. And with him a woman. Tim quickly let his eyes glance over you. You wore a fitted suit, golden hoops and your hair thrown up into a french twist. Throwing your trench coat over your shoulders, you hurriedly followed the detective with an unimpressed look on your face.

"If you haven't even caught the assailant yet, why am I here Harry?" You asked before you fell into step with your co-worker and friend. He was almost like an older brother to you.

"Because, I need your input. Your analysis. This guy is a fucking nut and we have no idea how to predict what he's gonna do next."

Intelligence and class seemed to drip off of you, and Tim was immediately smitten interested in you. He even found himself wondering if you were seeing the man you had arrived with.

Surely not, he was old enough to be your father.

You and Harry ducked under the police tape, your hands in your pockets and eyes trained on the gruesome scene. Black roses coated in thick blood decorated the ground around your boots. You instantly grimaced.

Harry made his way over to the group and greeted Tim first.

"Red Robin." He said with a nod.

"Detective." Tim said back, eyes still trained on you.

You turned in a circle to take it all in before nearing the group. "So, do we have anything on this guy?"

"Red Robin managed to hack into one of the shops security systems. The one across the street. With the footage he retrieved, we can see this sick bastard commit the crime, but his face is obscured."

You were watching Red Robin as the officer spoke, a little taken aback to see a vigilante standing in front of you. Let alone one of the bats.

"Can I see the footage?" You asked, eyes gazing back at his.

Tim swallowed hard. Your eye contact was unwavering, and he could feel a blush begin to creep onto his face.

"Miss, are you even a detective or-"

"Of course." Tim cut the officer off, handing you the tablet that sat atop a police car.

"It's fine," Harry said with the wave of his hand, "She's with me. She knows what she's doing."

Tim watched you analyse the footage. The man was wearing a cap, and some sort of odd make-up was smeared across his face. It might have even be blood you thought. You attentively watched the criminals behaviour. His mannerisms. The odd tick in his left shoulder. The limp in his right leg.

"Anything?" Tim asked.

His voice was like wine and you couldn't help but breathe in his cologne. You might come along to see these crime scenes more often.

"There's something." You admit with the furrow of your brows. "The way he moves. I can't put my finger on it though..."

Tim observed the badge clipped to the collar of your shirt. Although he could read what your occupation was, your coat was covering your name.

"Forensic psychologist?"

What a stupid moment to be making small talk. He began to chastise himself and his lack of charisma, but you didn't seem to mind, much to his relief.

"Mhm. Know what that is?" You teased, anticipating the Red Robin's response.

Tim smirked. "No actually, never heard of it."

You gave a light laugh and Tim felt he had to keep the conversation going.

"Are you new at this?" He asked. "I haven't seen you before."

"Not really," you replied with a soft smile. "It's my second year."

"Yeah, and she beats everyone in the game." Harry called out with a chuckle. You tried to hide your blush, but your humility mixed with your attempt to hide your reaction made Tim like you even more.

But the longer you watched the footage it suddenly dawned on you. The puzzles snapped together in your head and left you a little shocked. Tim immediately took note of the change in your demeanour.

"What is it?"

You held onto the tablet tightly. "I think I know who this is. The twitch. The limp. The hunched form and what he's doing..."

"Holy shit..." Harry said as the others all gawked at the writing on the ground.

Tim ignored them, focusing his full attention onto you.

"Back when I was just a psychologist. This guy came to me, I'm sure of it." You looked back up at Tim now, but before either of you could say anything, Harry called your name.

"You better get over here."

You and Red Robin joined the group, and as you looked down at the name on the footpath, your soul immediately dropped down to your feet.

"What's wrong?" Tim asked, looking up at Harry then at you. But now that you had moved, the name on your badge was revealed to Tim.

Everyone suddenly turned to look at you. And all you could do was stare down at the red letters before you.

"That's my name."

Continue to Part Two here

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Can I request Carol Danvers x Reader. While the whole team is on a mission, Reader finds themselves in trouble. Carol swoops in a saves them. The team starts to harass R, which makes R have feelings of doubt toward their abilities and also not good enough for Carol. Angst and then you can end it however you see it. Thank you! If you don’t like this request, please feel free to ignore.

My Voice of Reason

Warnings: Bullying of R by the team that's about it

Word count: 660

A/N: thank you for this request! I had a fun time with it~

“Y/N! Come in! What's your status?” Cap shouted over the comms. Your head was reeling after being knocked back about 50ft. You had no voice left, you had been shouting, using your voice manipulation to subdue the enemies. 

You had run out of throat spray to ease the pain and talking was something you couldn't even fathom. 

“Anyone got eyes on Y/N?” Natasha called through the comms.

“I'll find her.” You heard Carol call through, and before you knew it, she was standing above you. “You good, Echo?” The nickname that stuck with you for being able to mimic any sound. You were able to nod, point at your throat, and sign ‘no’. “Can you get up? Can you walk?” As Carol asked, another handful of Hydra goons came round, and without a second thought, Carol picked you up before unleashing an attack, knocking them out. “Let's get back to the QuinJet.” You nodded, gripping onto her, burying your face against her to hide the blush covering your cheeks. 

The ride home had been full of whispers as if you couldn't hear them talking down. It was your voice that wasn't working, not your ears.

You felt Carol's strong hand on your shoulder. Looking over, she gave a soft smile. “Almost home. We'll have to debrief, but you should grab some medicine first.” You gave a soft smile back and nodded. 

“Y/N do you have anything to say?” Tony remarked, all eyes on you.

“Ran out of meds. Couldn't talk.” Your voice still hoarse.

“I am so sick of that excuse! You need to train more often and stay off missions. You're grounded.” Cap called across the table. You pulled your sleeves over your hands, picking at the skin around your nails. You couldn't look at any of them. 

“I'm sorry…” you spoke softly. Letting the ‘adults’ talk even though you were 21 you were still the youngest besides Peter, but Tony kept him mostly off field.

A few hours later you'd been released from the debriefing, heading straight to your room. “FRIDAY. Soundproof.”

“Sound proofing complete ms. Y/L/N.” As soon as it was soundproof, you let out a banshee scream in frustration. You yelled until your voice was just about gone again, “Fuck them. I try so hard…Tony has a stupid suit, Cap is a super soldier, Thor is a literal God!” You yelled. “It's not fair…its…” you started crying which turned into uncontrollable sobbing.

“Echo? Are you in there?” You heard Carol knocked at your door. As you tried to gather yourself together real quick and told FRIDAY to stop the soundproofing. 

“Y-yeah…here…” you called out, spraying your throat.

“Can I come in?” Carol asked, making you hesitate for a moment before opening it and pulling her inside. “Hey, you okay?” Carol cupped your cheeks, you tried looking away, anywhere, but at her. She was always so kind and caring towards you. “Look at me Y/N.” It caught you off guard, she never used your name ever since she learned your nickname so of course you looked at her. “Don't listen to those idiots. You're amazing and you're an amazing super hero. They have fancy gadgets and enhancements. You don't have those things. Sure your voice is a power and makes you an enhanced individual, but your power hurts you too. It isn't endless your body has limits and they need to understand that.” 

You felt your body shake at her words, trying to hold back your tears, but they end up falling as you're pulled against her. “Shhhh I'm always on your side.” Carol pulled your face up gently before pulling you into a soft kiss making your heart soar as you kissed her back pushing up on your toes and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. 

Through all of it, Carol was here with you, and so long as you had her by your side, anything the other members said didn't matter.

[xetlynn]

Twilight- Youngest Shadow: Chapter Six, Confirming Us

(Alice X Reader X Jasper)

[five] [six] [seven]

Bella stands by me, getting herself ready for what she’s about to do. It’s the end of the school day and I suck in a deep breath for her. I can not believe she’s actually going through with this.

She starts walking towards the Cullen’s. She makes eye contact with Edward and he immediately gets the message but Rosalie grabs his arm. Bella already disappeared in the trees that bordered the school property. Rosalie says something to him but Alice shakes her head and removes her hand, also speaking. I obviously can’t hear them from here.

Biting the dead skin off my bottom lip nervously I try my best not to cough. Of course I’m still sick, not as bad as yesterday but still up there. Just without the fever.

I watch Edward finally get away from his foster siblings and go to my sister. It feels like my breathing has been shortened. I have a feeling he won’t do anything to her but there’s always a thought in the back of my mind.

“Hey, you okay?” I turn and it was just Angela. “Hm?” I raise a brow. “Oh I was just asking if you’re okay. Since you were pretty sick yesterday.” She smiles, putting her hand on my back causing me to shutter. “I’m better, still sick.” I look away to cough. Her touch makes my chest squeeze and I don’t notice the two staring at me from across the lawn. Or at least I act like I don’t.

“Aw, I’m sorry.” She pouts moving her hand to my shoulder and I nervously laugh. “It’s okay, did you find your prom dress?” I change the subject, her eyes light up in response. “Yes I did. Did you? I wasn’t able to ask since you were so bad yesterday.” She takes her hand back and I felt like a corset was being taken off and I could actually breathe again. “Ah, that’s amazing. I don’t know if I’m going.” I shrug.

She takes my hand and that one feeling comes back. “You have to it will be so fun. And since we don’t have Bella coming we need at least one Swan sister to come.” She tries to convince me. That sentence throws me the wrong way though, I know she didn’t intend it to but I don’t know.

“We could even match colors. My dress is like light pink.”

“I mean if you’d like me to I will.” I tell her with a small smile. “Light pink is such a good choice.” Another voice rings to my right side and both of us jump from the person. I mentally curse once I see who it is. “Oh, um… thank you Alice.” Angela grins at the other girl as I glare at her.

“So, [Name] how’d you sleep last night?” She turns to me and my lips press together angrily. Angela seems confused.

“What an odd question to ask.” I say through my teeth.

“Really? I just wanted to make sure it was nice since Jasper and I left before you woke up.” She sweetly says, my eyes widen.

“I slept fine.” I roll my eyes.

“That’s good! Angela? That’s your name right? I’m going to steal [Name] here for a second.” She doesn’t even let the girl answer nor give me the chance to deny. Taking my arm and dragging me away. I look back at Angela apologetically.

She waves me goodbye, furrowing her eyebrows as she was just as confused as me.

We get into a car where I’m in the backseat, Jasper was in the driver seat. “What was that!?” I pull away from her, my face scrunched with anger.

“Shh.” She tells me and I grunt as I push myself backwards on the seat. “Is this a fucking AA or something? Here to tell each other secrets?” I cross my arms.

“Why are you so mad at us, darling?” Jasper turns to look at me.

“Why are you so obsessed with me?” I rebuttal.

“Well, you obviously know what we are is that your reason?” He ignores what I had just said. “No I’m just- I’m confused!” I exclaim.

“You’re both together, in a relationship. Immortal I might add that I am not. What do you want from me?”

Their gazes soften. “[Name], you’re our missing piece. You’re ours. You have been for years we only now found you, again” Alice tells, still smiling. I think back to my dream.

Their missing piece…

“You still aren’t answering me correctly. Give me an explanation, a good one that doesn’t sound like you’re crazy!” I exasperated.

“I’m some missing piece, whatever! But why me? You don’t know me!” I hold myself trying not to get emotional from how overwhelmed I feel.

“We know more than you think, love.” Jasper says, i glance over to him, motioning for him to keep talking.

“We’ve had this feeling for years, we knew you as humans, [Name]. Years and years ago. You’re the one who would get through our fingers. Your past lives have popped up. And they will continue to do so until you fall for us. You won’t remember until you-“ he cuts himself off, Alice’s eyes bored onto me. “You won’t remember.”

I sit there for a minute in complete silence.

Then I start laughing. “Okay I played into this for a little bit. I actually believed it, I believed my sister too! Is this some sort of prank or something?” I shake my head. “This is good, really. You had me. But knock it off.” I go to open the door but it won’t open.

“Hey, let me out.” I play with the handle and the two just sit there. “I said let me out.” I order, now using to hands.

“[Name],” Alice goes to touch me but I go up against the door. “Don’t touch me.” I smack her away from me and a shock goes through my arm. I gasp not only from how cold she is, even though I already know she is. But something actually shocked me. Not a normal metal shock but like a taser went through my arm.

“We’re telling the truth.” Jasper says lowly, I just scoff.

“Okay, sure and I’m a fucking werewolf. Do you know how crazy this sounds!?” I throw my hands into the air.

“Yes, yes we know.” Alice sadly replied.

“I want proof.” I simply say. “I want to see the speed shit or whatever.”

They look between each other, nodding.

“We can do that but we have to go to an excluded place. Do you trust us enough?” Alice asks me. I sit there for a moment.

“Sure.”

“We need a yes if we leave this parking lot.”

I roll my eyes, “yes.”

And in a quick notion we’re on the road, exhilarating passed the speed limits.

I grip onto the handle above me.

Then we come to a stop, we’re in the forest. “We gotta do some walking.” Jasper warns me, I just nod.

He finally unlocks the child lock he had put on and I get out. I leave my backpack inside the vehicle. Alice and Jasper stand next to me on either side. We start up on this hike trail. We walk in silence. None of us tried to start up a conversation.

“Watch your step.” Jasper warns me and even with that warning I somehow trip. Luckily I don’t fall. My face warms up in embarrassment. They don’t say anything, don’t even crack a smirk or anything. Sort of making me feel better about it.

Then Jasper starts going off trail and I stop in place. “What are you doing?”

“Excluded place, remember, Darling?” Jasper reminds me, I look around trying to think of a way to get out of this. “Right.” I whisper, realizing there isn’t going to be one. I buried my own grave here.

“I’ll be right behind you to make sure you don’t fall.” Alice tells me, trying to reassure me.

I don’t acknowledge what she said, just following Jasper.

It was long until we get to this small spot. “No one’s around.” Alice tells Jasper who nods shortly.

My nerves start rising, I play with the sleeves of my sweater.

“Okay do you have anything else to ask?” Jasper asks and I shake my head. “Just do the speed shit.” I tell trying not to sound panicked but that doesn’t work.

He snickers and Alice stands next to him. Then he’s gone and I feel a tap on my shoulder. When I turned he was gone again. I look straight and Alice was gone too. A tap on my back this time and they’re both behind me. I squint at them and then Jasper is gone again. Now hanging on a tree branch.

Alice grins.

He jumps down, it was a high branch so I gasp. Almost going to run to him but he stands with perfect posture.

“Do you believe it now?” Alice teases me, my mouth opens to speak but nothing comes out. “I… I um”

“Are you scared?” Jasper questions me, going back next to his lover.

“Would you be in my position?”

The two laugh. “Yeah, we would.” Alice sighs.

“Well, oddly enough I’m not. I want to know more.” I tell them.

And for the next few days that’s what we do. I learn more about them.

Barely passing by Bella but we both subconsciously knew that each other got our answers.

And with learning about them came.. loving them. Both of them. I never thought I’d be with two people- vampires?

I guess no one thinks they will be with a vampire.

I knew I’d be in a relationship no one would understand in my family. Like being with a woman most likely. But in this odd polyamory love affair I would’ve never guessed.

They were gentle with me. Like a doll.

“Jasper usually has trouble around humans. That’s why he kind of looks like he’s in pain. But with you. It’s like you’re one of us. We still have to treat you with fragile care. Nonetheless you’re made for us.” Alice grins, holding my hand as we walked together on that same trail. Jasper had to help Rosalie and Emmett with something so he couldn’t join us today.

“Do you think there’s something with my blood?” I look at her and she gives me a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“Well you guys drink blood. What’s so different about mine?”

She breaks out into a small laugh. “Nothings different it’s just how we are with you. It’s been like that in all of your lifetimes. It’s how we know it’s you. Well we normally know because you always look the same. Same first name too.” She explains, my mouth going into the form of an ‘o’.

“You’re cute.” She gently bumps into me.

And no matter how many times I ask them about my past lives, about how I acted they never answered.

Always saying “you’ll find out when you do.”

It was very frustrating.

“I can see into the future, visions. I can see what a persons up to at this very moment. The future can change though. It’s not always accurate.” Alice tells me and I raise an eyebrow.

“Did you know about Bella and your brother before they came about?” I tilt my head.

“Sort of. I didn’t want to pry.” She says. “Can you do anything special?” I turn to Jasper.

“I can manipulate your emotions. Sort of like an empathetic person. I feel your emotion instead of you.” He explains.

I tilt my head, wanting to know more.

“How come you didn’t do that to me when I was angry with you guys?”

“I didn’t want to have this relationship based off of me manipulating you. I wanted you to feel everything, think for yourself. Make your choice. You’re worth waiting a million years for.” He takes me hand like Alice is but takes it up and kisses it.

I smile to myself, glancing down at the ground.

“We want you to come over and meet everyone.” Alice suddenly says.

“Your sister will be there too.” She adds.

I blink a few times, my chest tightening. “Uh… are you sure?”

“Of course.” Jasper chimes in.

And I felt like throwing up.

The thought of meeting their family made my heart thump quicker than normal.

“Okay… I’ll do it if my sister is there.”

“Great, we will pick you up tomorrow.”

Today I brought my motorcycle myself this time. So I drove home myself. And getting there Jacob and Billy stood outside talking to my dad. Well Billy sat in the car as Jacob was going to get out. I’m guessing to take out the wheelchair.

Getting off my bike, I take my helmet off as I walked over to them. “Hey, squirt!” My dad shouts over to me and I wave.

“Hey guys!” I smile. Jacob comes over and pulls me into a hug. Billy was a bit standoffish but he smiles and greets me as well.

Jacob walks away and goes to set up the wheelchair, Billy gets himself up to sit in it.

That’s when Bella gets dropped off by Edward, Billy and him make eye contact and Billy seemed nervous.

Okay this chapter is a little shorter than normal. I had some things happen so I’ve been busy. But I’m hoping to have two chapters out on Sunday.

And a few requests done.

[blue-jisungs]

fast cars, slow kisses

summary. after a race with beomgyu, the night takes an unexpected turn

au. street racer (cars vroom vroom)!! also!! enha, lsfm and hwang minhyun cameo >_<

word count. 3,9k

warnings. uh so, yeah! blood, cursing (strong language if u will), one guy being misogynistic n talking shit, suggestive but not really, alcohol consumption

a/n. ngl i feel like it could be better? more racing n stuff but i’m pretty happy w the ending tho so… enjoy ^_^ also i never watched fast and furious so uh, that’s kinda ironic, aha!

also am i the only one who’s not over this concept? like i am still going insane thanks 😍

+++ if anyone is interested in reading a spin off about minhyun set in this au, go read crush on the track by one and only @slytherinshua !!! (i beg it’s so good)

the smell of gasoline filled your nostrils when you took a deep breath. with a corner of your eye you saw someone approaching you. tucking your hands in the pockets of your jacket you turn around to face them. it turns out to be your friends, le sserafim.

well, not all of them. lsfm – for short – is done with racing this season due to the training of their youngest members, who along with sakura, are walking towards you.

eunchae waved enthusiastically and you couldn’t help but mirror her smile.

“what’s up, youngsters?” you grinned, putting your sunglasses on top of your head.

“long time no see, huh?” sakura nodded and the younger girls high fived with you.

“y’know how it is…” you mumbled, leaning against your car.

“you’ve got this!” eunchae jumped excitedly, eyes scanning your vehicle

“of course i do. this beautiful beast never disappoints” a playful smirk painted on your lips as you noticed your rival in the crowd “and how’s your training going?”

“well we have to train more if we want to beat you some day but as for now… we’re pretty good” kazuha scoffed, earning a giggle from all of you

“oh, we better go!” eunchae stated upon seeing your rival’s car arriving “fighting! if you win you buy us tteokbokki!”

“yah!” you laughed after she ran off. sakura just shook her head

“beat his noisy ass” she hummed and you saluted dramatically

“yes ma’am”

your friends leave to watch you from the side. you and lsfm became friends even since they got into racing. being an only girl in your area got super boring so you were more than excited to see some new faces. chaewon and sakura used to race as co-drivers but then they formed a team and now they’re racing as they wish – with a co-driver or solo.

speaking of solo, you notice minhyun. he’s staring at your rival amused before looking at you. the former co-driver, now solo driver just like you, sticks his tongue out in a playful manner. you do the same, blowing a raspberry when you hear a laugh. you look at the source and notice beomgyu, your enemy.

quite literally.

“my arch nemesis” he whispered yet it was loud enough for you to hear.

“what’s up? ready to lose or should i give you some time to rethink your life choices?” you asked. beomgyu scoffed, crossing his arms.

“the only thing you’ll be rethinking is your future” he bit back, cocking an eyebrow.

“we’ll see about this one. if i keep winning with you all the time i might consider my next location though” a teasing tone of your voice made him roll his eyes “it’s getting boring, y’know?”

he was about to say something when a flagger approached the start line. you took it as a sign and both of you entered your cars.

as you reached your way to the top of racing world, beomgyu was quite the pain in the ass. you managed to win a couple of times against his teammates. and against him, too. but if someone was to draw a graph of the statistics it would be a sinusoid: you won one race, then beomgyu did. then you again, then him… over and over. you started getting sick of him in general: his snarky comments, loud shouting, the confidence in his voice, his ridiculously attractive voice–

“–‘s race! we have thursday’s child of tomorrow by together…!” the announcer pointed at beomgyu’s car, a loud round of applause hitting your ears. he dramatically wiped his eyes as if touched by the support and then winked at you. “and over here we have the first female champion of last year’s races! make some noise for furious!”

you lazily curled the corner of your lips, saluting. the nickname was a bit dumb and so obvious that you were inspired by fast and furious movie saga but at the beginning of your career you thought it was cool. eunchae told you once that after stepping out of the car you do look a bit furious no matter if you win or lose. which might be true because during the ride, you let your negative emotions go; hence the furrowed brows and all.

regarding beomgyu, you didn’t really know the origins of his nickname. it was creative, you’ll give him that. but in this sport the strangest nickname, the less chances the cops will find out your real identity… or so you hoped.

“ready?”

both of your cars’ exhaust pipes made a loud, growling noise. you looked at niki, the youngster who was the flagger today. you sent him finger guns and he did the same, a huge smile blooming on his face.

“three… two… one… go!”

with a gust of wind niki’s hair flew in different directions, both cars passing him by milimeters. before he managed to turn around to look at the vehicles, you were already far away.

you saw the neon sign that signalled you to take a turn. that’s what you liked about racing, too. sure, riding on a race track that you’ve already been to is nice. but the thrill of new locations is much more fuelling, especially after dark. the sun was about to set, sky glowing with vibrant oranges. normally you’d stop and watch but now you were busier with out catching beomgyu.

taking a sharp turn you managed to make him to slow down. shifting the gear stick to a another level, the car made a loud noise and you sped up. taking a glance at beomgyu in the mirror you huffed. asshole.

shaking your head you focused on the road, scanning the flashing lights of that showed you the directions. putting the pedal to the floor, knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel you took a deep breath.

because you were on a schedule and went first, you and beomgyu had to finish ten laps. then yunjin was racing with yeonjun and so on. you agreed on racing only for 10 so the younger ones have more fun. besides… tomorrow is saturday and you really needed to rest.

throughout the whole race beomgyu was in front of you a couple of times. thanks to your love and passion for making sudden drifts at turns, you managed to put him into the wall. he didn’t crash, of course, but had to slow down.

the sky gradually turned navy, the darkness overtaking the whole track. only a couple of red lights at the finish line blinked in the distance.

you opened your window when you started approaching it. with a whistle of wind you crossed it, cheers erupting from the crowd. beomgyu arrived shortly after you, just when you took off your helmet. niki walked up to you and cheered loudly. throwing your head back while laughing you patted his back. beomgyu walked up to you, a playful smile on your lips.

“i went easy on you” he grunted. you extended your hand, the manners stronger than your dislike towards him, scoffing.

“mhm, whatever makes you sleep at night” a hum left your mouth and he shook your hand. he was holding your hand a little too tightly but let go suddenly, eyes widening.

minhyun walked up to you, patting your back.

“good job. i wish it was a little brighter so i could see your drifting skills in full glory but i guess your win is good too” he hummed.

“shut up” you scoffed, punching his arm “are you staying or…?”

“yeah, i’ll stay for a bit. are you parking the car or should i do it?” he asked, pointing at your keys. minhyun kept your car at his place since it would be too suspicious for a average student to own a racing car.

“i’ll do it. maybe i’ll dig around in your garage” you sent him a toothy grin. minhyun just rolled his eyes.

entering your car again you noticed beomgyu looking at you with a pensive look on his face.

without giving it any more thought you drove away, turning on the radio. your heart still pumping with adrenaline, you let out a shaky breath.

beomgyu stayed until the end. yeonjun lost against jay, soobin won with sunghoon and niki raced with kai for fun.

“not your day, huh?” he heard heeseung’s voice. he turned around and grunted,

“tell me about it” beomgyu rolled his eyes and pointed at niki “he’s got some potential though”

“yeah… beer? me and some other guys are going to the bar nearby” heeseung grinned.

“you know i never say no to beer” beomgyu laughed “let me just tell my idiots”

a short moment later they all met up in the bar, except the youngest ones. some other fans that were watching the races were there too.

beomgyu let out a heavy sigh and looked over at heeseung.

“what?” he grunted upon realising his friend was staring at him.

“i’ve noticed something, you know?” the oldest member of enhypen racing team smiled mischievously.

“that’s what your eyes are for” beomgyu murmured and took a sip of beer.

“we know you’re salty after losing but let it go, beomgyu” soobin, his leader, nudged him. heeseung smirked and shook his head after catching yeonjun’s curious gaze.

“we’ll talk later, let’s change the subject. did you watch the football game yesterday?” he asked, a lively conversation breaking out.

an hour passed by and beomgyu had to go to the bathroom. he didn’t drink too much but his vision got a little blurry once he stood up.

after he finished and washed his hands, while leaving the room he overheard a conversation.

“that girl, huh? i don’t believe it” one man, who was bald, said

“what do you mean?” his companion asked

“it’s a girl, dumbass” the bald one laughed loudly as if it was the funniest thing ever “no way in hell she beat thursday’s child”

“yeah… it’s a bit weird” his friend grunted

“i bet they’re a couple. or she just slept with some guy to win… whore” the bald guy spat out.

adrenaline and alcohol rushing through beomgyu’s veins lead him towards the guy. it all happened in a blink of an eye: him grabbing the bald guy’s shirt, throwing a left hook on his face, the other guy’s screaming. the punch was so strong that the guy landed on the floor. beomgyu pinned him down and tried making another punch

“she’s skilled, you fucking misogynist” he spat out.

“what the fuck?” the bald man grunted and managed to duck the attack and roll away. beomgyu, a bit dizzy, stood up and realised what he did. well, too late…

“what’s your problem, man?!” was all he heard before a sharp wave of pain spreading through his face. he took a few steps back due to the impact.

“my problem? it’s you who can’t understand that women can be good at male dominated sports? or are you just jealous because your life is so pathetic?” beomgyu spat out and the guy grabbed his shirt.

“who are you to talk?!” before the bald guy hit him again, beomgyu put his forearms in front of his face in order to protect his face from getting hurt. then he took a chance and managed to get out of the man’s hold and attacked him again.

“wait, is that… beomgyu?” he heard heeseung’s voice.

“what? no, he’s here! right, beomgyu?beomgyu–?!“ soobin’s shouts faded when another throw was aimed at the brown haired boy’s head resulting in ringing in his ears.

if you weren’t in the kitchen, having a 2am snack, you probably wouldn’t hear the aggressive knocking at your front door.

still with the spoon in your mouth you opened the door and your eyes widened upon seeing… beomgyu.

“what’s up, baby girl?” he smirked, leaning against the doorway. you were to shut your door when you noticed the awful state of his hands… and face.

“what the fuck, choi?” you grunted, removing the spoon.

“i was just having a midnight walk and decided to pay you a visit” he sent you a toothy grin

“just tell me who did you annoy this time or i’m closing the door” you sighed, crossing your arms. you wouldn’t, though. his brow was busted, nose bleeding and not to mention the huge bruise forming on his cheek bone.

he sighed, scratching his neck. you saw a glimpse of his knuckles covered in blood.

“i just got into a bar fight, that’s all. you should–“ he started sheepishly.

“… see the other guy, yeah yeah. just… come in. don’t you have a first aid kit at your place?” you grunted and closed the door after he walked in “wait, how do you even know where i live?”

“uhh… spidey senses? also, that’s a quite pretty place you have here” beomgyu shrugged. you walked over to the sink, throwing the spoon in, hiding the ice cream you were eating and pointed at the table in your dinning room.

“sit down. if i see you snooping around you’re being kicked out. and kicked in your ass” you huff, looking at him threateningly. the light was better inside so now you saw other scratches on his face.

“yes ma’am” beomgyu breathed out and obediently sat down where you told him to.

he zoned out while looking at the picture hanging on the wall. you and minhyun, his arm thrown over yours as you did bunny ears behind his head. pft. you looked like a couple.

the sudden thud of you placing the first aid kit down on the table made him jerk, his knees jumping up and hitting the table.

“stop daydreaming and tell me what happened” you ordered, looking for hydrogen dioxide.

“i was just looking at your boyfriend” he grunted, missing the thundering look you gave him.

“minhyun is like a brother to me. i’d rather date you than him. besides, he already has a girlfriend” you mumbled, realising what you said. beomgyu didn’t seem to catch it though, so you moved on quickly “whatever. i’m patching you up so you owe me an explanation”

beomgyu sighed.

“we went drinking and… i just had to put some rational thoughts into some guy. with my fists, that’s all” he said and his eyes widened when you tenderly grabbed his chin and propped it upwards, forcing him to look up at him.

“we? also, are you still drunk?” you asked and your features suddenly softened “i’m sorry but this will sting a bit”

beomgyu hissed when you pressed a cotton pad with the liquid on it, cleaning his open wounds.

“me and my team and also heeseung, jay, jake and sunghoon” beomgyu sighed “and i’m not drunk. i was. but the fight really sobered me up, y’know?”

“i assume. so, if i call soobin will he tell me the truth?” the question left him silent. you wiped the blood trickling from his nostrils gently.

he sighed again, closing his eyes.

“you’re a bad liar, choi. i noticed it the first time we met” you laughed quietly but there was no venom in your words “careful, here i go again”

he focused on the gentle touch of your fingers on his chin. suddenly you halted and he could hear your focused breathing.

“are you hungry?”

his eyes shot open, widening in surprise. then, his lips curled upwards almost recreating a v shape.

“actually, i am. whatcha got?” he asked. you went to the kitchen and beomgyu brushed his fingers against the spot where yours were just seconds ago. returning back with some milk bread he just noticed the way your hands were shaking.

“so you just beat up a guy for fun?” you asked. beomgyu scoffed and grabbed the bread, sinking his teeth in it. gosh, he was starving.

you carefully put a bandage on his brow, your own knitting due to the focused state you were in. he was munching slowly and suddenly you realised how his cheeks were dusted in a pretty, pink shade.

“well… he was taking shit about you” beomgyu blurted out after he swallowed, looking at you with his big doe eyes. you’d assume his blushing was caused by the alcohol in his system but the truth is… beomgyu realised how you were standing between his legs, so close to him.

“what?” you whispered, frowning.

he shrugged and took another bite.

you grabbed a nearby chair and sat on it, grabbing his right hand. you put some hydrogen dioxide on the wounds on his knuckles too, causing him to curse.

“what the fuck? why didn’t you warn me?” he grunted with his mouth full. your mind was racing, and so was your heart. did this mean that beomgyu – the guy who hated you with passion – stood up for you? and got into a fight?

“stop thinking so intensely, you’ll pop a vein” beomgyu chuckled but it became clear to him what you just realised too “it’s not what you think, i still hate you…”

his voice trailed off. you bandaged his knuckles in silence, heart thumping against your rib cage so hard, you thought it might break out any second.

“…he was just being misogynistic, that’s all” he added quietly after a while.

“are you sure it’s not because you like me?” you teased with a playful smile and looked up, expecting him to throw a snarky comment at you.

instead, you were met with his soft gaze on you and his pretty lips slightly parted. your smile dropped slightly, eyes locked with his. for a while though because his gaze shifted to your lips momentarily.

you gulped, trying to shake off the urge to… kiss him…?

“all done. patched up. you should take a shower though because you smell like a bar itself–“ you mumbled, looking up.

“can i kiss you?” beomgyu breathed out suddenly, his ebony eyes sparkling with adoration.

you nodded slowly, grabbing his hand. you intertwined fingers with his gently, beomgyu stood up and leaned in, cupping your face with his free hand. it was a bit harsh and calloused against your burning cheek, but his lips; oh his lips. they were pillowy, making you melt into the kiss. it was nothing but a loving kiss, reassembling a way that lovers kiss after they reunite after a long while without seeing each other. slow but sensual made your head spin and heart race faster than your car couple hours before.

your other hand travelled to the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. beomgyu hissed suddenly, pulling away.

“did i hurt you?” you asked, eyes widening in worry. he shook his head, a goofy smile on his face.

“i thought i was dreaming for a moment” he murmured and his hand slid down to your chin, propping it up slightly “and i was getting uncomfortable”

the taste of sweet bread he was eating earlier lingered on your lips. beomgyu leaned in again but you playfully tilted your head.

“wait, are you really kissing me? your arch nemesis?” a teasing hum left your mouth. he just rolled his eyes

“shut up” he grunted and kissed you again, your lips curling into a smile.

air was knocked out of your lungs one more time, his plush lips a cause of that. this time though you could taste the beer on his tongue. which reminded you of–

you leaned away, beomgyu panting.

“what?” he breathed out, chasing back after your lips.

“i know i’m irresistible but take a shower, you stink” you let out a soft laugh “and we’ll talk in the morning, okay? you must be tired”

“oh… yeah, sure” he nodded.

you showed him the way to the bathroom and gave some fresh clothes (minhyun’s shirt that you stole once). then you had a fifteen minute fight about who’s going to sleep on the couch and eventually you got it (by winning in a rock paper scissors)

you would lie if you said that you slept well. no, it wasn’t the couch. your mind was racing with thoughts: why did he kiss you? will he remember it? because what if he was still drunk? will it… lead to something else?

you hated beomgyu, sure, but that was because you were rivals in what you did. you never really… met him. and this all… was different. nice. got your heart warming up. you promised yourself that once you wake up in the morning and he’s gone, you’ll act like none of this never happened.

the sound of metal clanking and the smell of… burnt food was what woke you up. jolting forward from the couch you saw beomgyu wandering around in the kitchen, humming something.

“you know that for arson you can be up to 10 years in prison?” you asked, lazily standing up from the couch. he squealed, surprised by your sudden appearance.

“you woke up” he laughed, taking a sip of tea.

“i did. and you’re trying to burn my house down?” you cocked an eyebrow, crossing your arms. beomgyu shook his head, placing two plates on the counter.

“i did. but i changed my mind and made pancakes” he hummed and took them to the dining room. you watched him in awe, heart fluttering. he stayed.

you sat down, staring at the food.

“i felt a little guilty you slept on the couch. and i was hungry, so…” he shrugged and started eating. but he stopped upon seeing you gazing at the pancakes with a small smile “i promise i didn’t poison it… although it was tempting”

“that’s not it. i’m just thinking… do you– well, why did you…” you trailed off, not sure how to put your thoughts into words. beomgyu understood, his features softening.

“y/n, the moment i saw you for the first time after the first race you won with taehyun i was whipped. i’m not kidding you” he said, your eyes widening. beomgyu chuckled, bright smile adoring his face “yes, i liked you. i have liked you for two years now… well, i still do… it’s just… the emotions after the race and all… we just didn’t start off too good and uh… shit happens”

you snorted, suddenly the way you caught him staring way too many times suddenly making sense.

“so if you want to forget about the kiss and all of that happened, i’d be sad but i’ll understand. and also… thank you. for patching me up and not… kicking out” he said, looking at the bandages on his knuckles

“i’m a bit surprised, i’m not going to lie… but… what do you want to do now?” you asked, blush creeping on your face. mischievous glint sparkled in his eye and you knew you’re doomed.

“i can take you on a date or two, for a romantic ride in my fast car” he smiled boyishly, suddenly leaning closer and whispering “and then we’d make it official and could make out on the back office of our usual racing track… y’know, keeping the facade we still hate each other…”

“shut up” you grunted, looking away,

“awwh, did i make you shy?” he cooed, pushing the plate with your pancakes closer “eat up and i’ll take you for a ride, huh?”

“only if we race there” you grunted, a smile lingering on your lips. beomgyu grinned and it’s safe to say it was the fastest way you’ve ever eaten (wolfed down) your breakfast.

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @kazmura

[arroganceisherfavoritecolor]

I will take ANYTHING with colin and/or rodrick (#I'm desperate i've read everything twice) Sorry if thats vague, but I'm like a garbage disposal and will take anything atp. Thank you if you look at this, have a great day/night!

Something about whats-her-name

"Mr. Heffley, whats got you daydreaming away in my class, hm?" Rodrick snapped back to reality, the brittle voice of his teacher shattering his thoughts about- wait... what was her name again? Oh, that's right, Y/n. Y/n L/n, how could he have already been in his 3rd year of high school and barely notice her? "Oh, sorry, it wont happen again" Rodrick said, like an idiot. The teacher simply rolled her eyes and went back to the lecture. As the teacher was talking, Rodrick went back to thinking of Y/n. Since they had just came back from winter break, Y/n must have moved her schedule around and ended up getting put into his 4th period English class. The seating chart app must have been on Rodrick's side when it was determining the new seating chart for the remainder of the year, because it had placed Y/n one person above him, but still in the row next to his, giving him a perfect view.

She was more than just gorgeous, more than ethereal, more than any word that Rodrick's pea-sized brain could come up with. She wasn't like all the other girls Rodrick had liked in the past, most of them quite prissy and rude. But Y/n? Y/n was cool, stylish and you could tell she was NOT just another brick in the wall. Although she was seen hanging out with Heather and her goons sometimes, you could tell she was nice. Rodrick knew she had an amazing personality, and he wasn't just saying that because he was totally head over heels for her. Every time he saw her from across the campus during lunch, she had that gorgeous smile of hers on her face. When he had asked his friends about Y/n, they had only good things to say about her. After a few weeks, Rodrick decided he HAD to get to know her, so he set up a plan.

Rodrick had came to the conclusion that he was going to throw a party that weekend. Since his parents and youngest brother would be gone, Rodrick felt it was the perfect (and probably only) opportunity to throw a sick ass party and impress the girl of his dreams. He sent out a group text in his schools group chat, which soon got screenshotted and posted on various social networking's. Most of the time, Rodrick didn't give a damn about what his peers thought of him. He had gone through all 11 years of school being seen as a dorky, emo weirdo. But now that Y/n was in the picture, Rodrick gave every damn and a bag of chips. He knew this kickback of his had to be off the hook, it was really his only chance to get Y/n to fall for him.. because y'know, he cant just go up to her and ask for her number or something... boy logic.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The Heffley household was PACKED. Teenagers coming in like ants marching. 30 minutes after the party started, Rodrick chose to stop answering the door, and just leave it wide open. People were drunk, some partying it up inside the house, and others passed out in the yard. As he surfed through seas of people, Rodrick made his way to the backyard. There, he saw Y/n sitting on the porch, alone. He opened the sliding glass door, feeling the fresh air on his skin. Y/n turned around, eyes widened. They soon softened when she saw Rodrick. He stood there, looking down at Y/n. She smiled, scooting over to make some room for Rodrick. He smiled, sitting down next to her. Finally, he broke the silence. "So... am I interrupting something? Or are you only out here 'cus my party's lame?" Y/n smiled, Rodrick swore he could feel his pupils dilate. "Nah, of course not. It just really stuffy in there, needed a breath of fresh air." She broke eye contact with him, looking down at her drink. Rodrick saw it wasn't even beer, it was Coke. As he continued to stare at her, Rodrick realized that Y/n is even prettier up close. She turned her head to look at him, which made Rodrick snap out of his trance. "Is there something wrong?" Asked Y/n, her head cocked to the side. What kind of question was that? Of course there was something wrong. Rodrick is sitting outside with the girl hes been damn near stalking, ALONE, and he probably creeped her out because he can't keep his eyes off of her for two seconds. "No, nothing wrong. You're just.." Rodrick couldn't find it in himself to spit out what he so badly wanted to say. "I'm just what?" Y/n's eyebrows were furrowed, a confused expression on her face. "You're so beautiful" Oh shit. It just slipped out, he didn't even mean to say it. Her eyes were wide, her once confused face now turned surprised. "Oh- oh my god. I'm.. i-i'm so sorry Y/n i ju-" Rodrick's stammering of nonsense was cut off by Y/n's soft lips kissing his. Her hands found his face and thumbs gently began to stroke his cheek. Y/n pulled away, a sweet smile on her face. Rodrick's mouth was hanging open, speechless from what had just happened. "Whoa, okay uh, alright." Rodrick said, which made Y/n giggle, eyes scrunching up and sparkling. "I don't wanna sound conceited, but I know everything Rodrick. I can feel you staring at me during 4th period, I notice how you purposely walk by my table during lunch, I even see all the profile views you leave on my socials." With every word that came out of your mouth, Rodrick could feel his face getting warmer and warmer. "O-oh my god Y/n, I'm sorry." He covered his face with his hands, trying to hide the blush. You laughed and softly grasped his wrists, uncovering his cute face. Y/n looked into Rodrick's eyes, deep and dark and desperate looking. "I don't mind at all, Rodrick." She said, eyes switching from looking at his eyes to his lips. "Why didn't you ever talk to me sooner, Rodrick?" Oh lord, hearing his name coming from your voice sounded like music to his ears. "Well I mean, you're just so... I cant even think of a word. I guess I've just been intimidated by you, I didn't know how to approach you." Y/n's eyebrows raised. "Oh, is it because i'm just sooo scary and discouraging, that it took you 6 months to have a conversation with me?" Rodrick laughed, feeling the tension wearing off. "Well, I guess you cant be THAT scary since you just ate my face" Y/n rolled her eyes, gently slapping his arm. "Seriously though, I really like you Y/n, I know i'm a wuss for not talking to you sooner." Y/n smiled at him as she ran her fingers through his hair. "Kiss me again, Rodrick."

And so he did.

A/N: THIS IS NOT MY BEST WORK GUYS! Lowkey rushed bc school stuff lol (i'm dying inside) PLEASEEE request more stuff!! thank u so much for requesting @my-sibling-wears-a-muumuu !!