#dark rider / speed star au

[chowadoe]

cowboy shadow...the dark rider...

[smileysuh]

ride night

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader I ft. Johnny

🔮 preview. “You always told me you had a thing for older men. Said I wasn’t your usual type- not daddy enough for you, well, here you go, baby. Let daddy hear you moan for my cock.” You seriously can’t believe this is happening. All you can do is try to relax while Hyuck fucks you stupid in some dive bar bathroom stall, your core still throbbing and desperate after six orgasms from a vibrator while on his bike. The fingers on your oversensitive bud are unrelenting, just like your boyfriend, and at this point, you can’t even bring yourself to care that his ride night dad is listening in, only a few feet away. 

tw/cw. Exhibitionism, riding a Harley with a vibrator inside of you, multiple orgasms, fucking in a bar bathroom while someone (John) listens in, overstimulation, unprotected sex, vibrator as a ball gag, voyeurism, dirty talk, praise, choking, brief pussy eating, Hyuck has tattoos, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 4.9k

🍭 aus. Established relationship au, motorcycle au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. The I love Harleys saga continues but this time with NCT

You met Lee Donghyuck in the winter of your life. It was all cold weather, windy days and rain streaks against your apartment window. When you bumped into him at a bar, and he’d pulled you over to tell you that you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, things began to get brighter.

It’s been five months now, and the warmth of spring turning into summer matches the heat Donghyuck has brought into your existence. He’s enthusiastic, and so so good at making your day sparkle. 

A self-proclaimed ‘motorcycle skid man’ with tattoos and a generally bad attitude toward others to match, Hyuck has been raving about how excited he is to finally have a girl to take on his Harley night rides, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t just as stoked to be joining him in this aspect of his life.

You’ve been on his bike a handful of times since the riding season started, and while you’re getting used to the loud, vibrating engine, you’ve never been a backpack for more than fifteen or so minutes with the speed he goes at. This will be your first time on a longer trip, as his friends usually take a scenic route two or so towns over to get drinks at one-off dive bars.

He pulls infront of your apartment, and your entire body is thrumming with an excited energy you can’t even put into words. When he takes off his helmet, and shakes out his shaggy dark hair, you swear he looks almost godlike. The tattoos on his hands and neck are visible, but the rest of his intricate inkings are covered in a hoodie and ride gear. 

“Hey, princess,” he grins, pulling out one of his bluetooth earbuds to hand to you. “Are you ready for this?”

“Uh huh.” You accept the earbud, slotting it into place.

“We’re going to stop at my bike dad’s place to get you proper gear,” Hyuck explains. “He called me earlier and gave me a talking to about not being too much of a dick head with you on the back.”

Your Harley lover has found a family within his motorcycle fanatic friends, one of which, is a man named John who you’ve met twice. He’s always preaching about safety, as he’s been in the motorcycle scene for much longer than your baby rider boyfriend, who’s only been riding for two or so years.

There’s always a risk involved with motorcycles, and John has had too many friends who’ve gotten into accidents, too many close calls for comfort. 

The first time you’d met John, Hyuck had darted off to get drinks, and in the loud seclusion of a corner in the bar, John had warned you not to let Hyuck take risks with you. “He’s only brought a girl around once,” the twenty-nine year old had explained, “and even with that, he’s the only guy I know who goes faster with a backpack.”

You’re not surprised that John would insist on proper gear for a ride of this caliber. When you and Hyuck pull up to his townhouse, he’s standing in the garage with three different jackets laid across the hood of his new black ram truck. 

“Hey, Speedy Racer, hi, Princess,” John smiles, pulling you into a hug that lingers before assessing Hyuck as he’s taking off his helmet. “You excited for this?”

“So excited,” you respond, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hold onto this one,” John says, addressing your boyfriend, “she’s not a scardey cat like the last girl.”

“Trust me, I’m planning on holding on,” Hyuck promises, coming up behind you to wrap you in his arms. 

“So… is this the gear?” you ask, assessing the jackets on the car.

“Yeah, I bought these for my ex.” John runs a hand through his dark hair. “Figure they need a new home now.”

“Why don’t you get your own girlfriend?” Hyuck teases, squeezing you roughly.

John only sighs at your boyfriend’s antics. “Anyways, try them all on, see which one you like best.”

You shrug off your own wind breaker, picking up the first black leather jacket. It looks nice, but it’s a little large, and John explains that it’s usually meant for a hoodie underneath, which he can grab for you if you’d like. 

The second one fits a little better, but it’s still not as snug as you’d enjoy. 

When you pick up the third jacket, a white leather piece with black detailing, you can already tell from the feel of the material that it will be your favourite. As you put it on, you note the small amount of padding, the way it hugs your body. 

“That’s the one, princess,” Hyuck muses, looking you up and down.

“It looks good,” John offers you a smile. He turns, heading for a drawer, where he pulls out a pair of black riding gloves. “One last touch,” he explains, passing them to you.

When you put on the leather gloves, you finally feel like an actual motorcycle girlfriend.

“Are we good to go?” John asks.

“I just need to go piss first,” Hyuck says. “Princess, come with.”

John cocks his eye brow, but doesn’t say anything as Hyuck pulls you into the townhome, leading you down a hall to the first floor bathroom.

“What are you doing?” you laugh when he closes the door behind you, locking it securely.

“Got you something,” Hyuck tells you, reaching into his jacket.

Your heart thumps at what this present could be, and it lurches into your throat when he takes out a pink, egg vibrator.

“Hyuck, this isn’t a good idea-”

“Are you kidding?” he grins. “It’s the best idea I’ve ever had, come here”

You don’t fight him when he reaches for your hand, tugging you closer. His lips meet yours, and you eagerly kiss him back, his tongue swiping against your own. His mouth quickly moves to your throat, and his breath tickles when he whispers, “You’re going to love this.”

He gets down onto his knees, quickly pulling your pants and underwear down. The cool air of the bathroom makes your skin tingle, and your boyfriend leans forward, pressing a kiss to the patch of skin just under your belly button.

“Hyuck-” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair.

“Be good for me,” he tells you, spreading your thighs as much as the pants by your feet can allow. It’s an odd angle, but your boyfriend somehow gets his skilled tongue licking at your folds, his lips wrapping around your clit. 

One finger enters you, then two. He pushes at the spongy spot that has your toes curling in your shoes, your legs shaky. Then, to your disappointment, he pulls away.

Hyuck looks up at you, watching your reactions as he brings the internal vibrator to your pussy, gently pushing it inside.

“How’s that feel?” he asks, breath hot along your sensitive inner thighs.

“Good,” you respond, swallowing thickly.

“Perfect.” He kisses your stomach, then pulls up your jeans. “This is going to be the best ride you’ve ever been on.”

The three of you had arrived at the dealership with ten minutes before the kickstands-up start time. Hyuck had introduced you to friends you’ve not yet had the chance to meet, and he hadn’t turned the vibrator on yet.

But when everyone gets on their bikes in preparation for the hour ride ahead of you, Hyuck reaches into his pocket, at first, you think it’s just to turn on music for your Bluetooth earbuds, but that’s when the low setting of the toy kicks into gear.

Your thighs immediately squeeze around him at the stimulus, your grip on his hips tightening.

Hyuck tosses you a look over his shoulder, then flips his visor down, turning to face the road and revving his engine.

The vibrations from the Harley and the toy have your entire body tingling with delight, and you realize that while this might be the best ride of your life, it’s definitely going to be the longest, in more ways than one.

You do your best to focus on the sight in front of you rather than the vibrations. There must be over twenty Harleys on this ride, and it feels momentous in some odd way to be a part of this. 

Your group comes up to the turn light outside the dealership, after this, you’ll be on the highway. The riders are in two columns, taking up one stretch of lane. When you turn your head, you realize Johnny is pulled up beside you. He pushes his tinted visor up, flashing you a wink while you all wait.

Hyuck turns to stare at John, and as the light shifts, they both begin to rev their engines. You can’t help the giggle of delight that bubbles within you, it’s as if the two are caught up in some type of pissing match, and others soon join in.

The first two riders take off as the turn light switches on. Hyuck shifts into gear, and the motorcycle pulls forward, your knees digging against his thighs for grip as you prepare for the speed that’s about to come now that you’re on the highway.

You’ve heard John and others call Hyuck ‘Speedy Racer,’ and you know your boyfriend has a reputation for breaking limits, but in your short experience backpacking, nothing could have prepared you for how fast all the bikes are moving the moment you’re all clear of the turn.

You can see the way the men are feeding off of each other. They’re respectful of those in front of them… to a point, but everyone looks like they have something to prove, or maybe it’s just a love for the extreme.

Either way, you can only hold on as the outskirts of the city flash by you faster than they ever have before. 

The music playing through your earbud shifts, and as ‘Or Nah’ by Ty Dolla $ign comes on, you realize Hyuck’s making you listen to his sex playlist. 

Fuck- Your pussy clenches around the vibrator, your fingers digging into his hips.

You watch Hyuck’s grip tighten on his handlebars, his veins flexing under numerous dark hand tattoos that always turn you on way more than they should.

His engine revs aggressively, prompting the rider in front of him to go even faster and close the gap between the person two bikes up. 

John matches Hyuck’s speed on your left, turning to look at you both. 

It feels suddenly very dirty - and exhilarating - at the same time, to be doing this.

If only John knew what sinful music is ringing through your head, what dizzying vibrations are coursing through your pussy-

There are small district type suburbs outside of the city, and you somehow make the fifteen to thirty minute stretch to the next closest one in what must be only five minutes. You’re breathless by the time you get to the next light, one of two on the highway in this zone, and even though you think you’ll be able to catch a moment of reprieve, you’re wrong.

Hyuck reaches into his pocket, dialing up the intensity of the vibrator.

Your legs shake around him, your breaths coming out in hot pants inside your helmet.

John is looking at you again, and he motions for you to lift your visor.

Sure, any rider watching you practically hyperventilate at a red light would suggest lifting the piece of plastic keeping your face contained in your helmet- but that’s the last thing you want to do right now.

Hyuck lifts his own visor, looking over his shoulder at you then back at John. He leans a little to the left to get closer to his friend, and John’s the one to ask “Is she good?”

“She’s perfect,” Hyuck shouts over the sound of engines. His hand finds yours on his hip, rubbing you gently. “Aren’t you, princess?”

Taking a deep breath, you lift your visor, managing a small smile at your boyfriends ‘bike dad.’

“I’m okay,” you try to reassure John, but your voice is shaky.

Before John can say anything else, engines catch your attention and all three of you look forward, where the light has turned green.

“Visors down,” Hyuck warns you, knocking his own back into place before booting his kickstand back up. The bike lurches forward not two seconds later, and you’re left scrambling to adjust your helmet before latching back onto your boyfriends waist.

There’s a sissybar at your back, and you know logically that it will keep you from sliding off the end of the Harley, but you’re still not used to this type of speed. You can’t help but hold on like Hyuck is your life line, and with your mischievous speedy racer of a lover in control of the vibrator wedged between your sensitive walls, he kind of is. 

Lucky for everyone taking part in ride night, the second light in this small town is green, and your group flies through, the signs noting the speed increase back to normal highway regulations- although, you’re sure everyone here is going way over what’s posted.

You can’t see Hyuck’s speedometer with his body in front of yours, and part of you doesn’t want to see it.

You close your eyes, giving in to the onslaught of sensations. 

The air ripping at your tight riding jacket, gravel buffering your knees ever so often, music ringing through your helmet, the powerful vibrator in your pussy, and the even more powerful machine that Hyuck maneuvers like a God-

If you focus too hard, if you allow yourself to enjoy all of this, you might just cum, and part of you wants to resist that, so you open your eyes, looking over at John on the bike next to you.

Hyuck might be the notorious dare devil, but John’s not all that angelic either. The man is standing straight up on his foot pegs, his butt raised completely off his seat. The wind is tearing at his leather jacket, and you can’t even imagine the pressure of the air he’s cutting through, battering at his body-

Even so, he looks as free as you’ve ever seen a man look.

Your pussy pulses pathetically around the toy and you grip Hyuck’s hips, legs shaking around his own.

His hand lands on your thigh, squeezing, as if to say ‘cum for me,’ and your body can’t help itself this time. You release all the pressure, your muscles going slack for a moment of peace before contracting from the power of your orgasm.

Your core throbs desperately around the vibrator, your eyes closing to enjoy the sensation.

Hyuck takes his hand away from your thigh, revving the engine and kicking into an even higher gear. The bike purs below you, as if she - like her master - is amped up from the energy of your release.

John sits back down on his bike to match Hyuck’s acceleration, and you can feel his eyes on you. Another pang of pleasure erupts through your form, your visor fogging up from how hard you’re panting.

Hyuck makes a motion at John, and with your vision obscured, it’s hard to tell exactly what he’s saying. However, when he forms his hand into a fist and shakes it aggressively to emulate a vibrator, you can almost picture the look of recognition behind John’s tinted visor.

You can’t bring yourself to think about it too hard right now, your orgasm still throbbing through you like white hot summer rays.

It’s hard to gauge time on the back of a bike. With the world going past you at what feels like a hundred miles a minute, it could be an orgasm that lasts five minutes, or five seconds, you’re not sure.

All you can do is hold on, allowing the pleasure to overtake you until it subsides, your muscles slowing the contractions around the vibrator. 

You don’t know it yet, but this will be your first of six orgasms on the back of Hyuck’s bike during the hour and a half ride to the bar.

Hyuck had turned off the vibrator at the first red light you’d reached after entering the town that will be your final destination. You’d slumped like a limp rag doll behind him, trying to catch your breath the rest of the way.

When the group of Harleys pulls into the bar parkinglot, you’re honestly not sure you’ll even be able to stand, and your legs are wobbly as you nearly stumble off the back of Hyuck’s bike.

You fumble with the straps of your helmet, tearing it off and taking a big gasp of air.

Hyuck’s much more graceful with his movements, bending down to pick up the earbud that’s fallen to the ground with the force of the removal of your helmet. “You good, princess?”

You narrow your eyes at him, knowing your cheeks are flushed and you probably look like a mess.

“I’ll make it better,” Hyuck promises, standing and pulling you into a breathtaking kiss. You can’t help the way you react to him, leaning against his chest and completely melting. It feels so good to be touched, finally, after over and hour of what feels like torture. You can almost forget about the gang of bikers whistling and howling at the sight. 

Hyuck pulls away too quickly, putting his helmet on his bike before grabbing yours to do the same. Then, he latches onto your hand. “Come on,” he says gruffly.

You want to ask if you should wait for the rest of the riders to park properly, but when Hyuck begins to tug you toward the bar, your words get caught in your throat.

The dive bar hostess’s eyes widen when you and Hyuck approach. “Hey, I’m with the group that just pulled up, my girlfriend’s been needing to piss since the last town, can we just use your bathroom real quick?”

The girl stammers, but Hyuck’s already pushing through with a gruff, “Thanks.”

It’s clear Hyuck’s been here before, because he knows exactly where he’s going. As he pushes you into the men’s bathroom, doing a quick look around to make sure it’s empty, your heart begins to thunder in your chest.

“Hyuck-”

“Come on, princess,” he shakes his head at you, tugging you into a stall, “I didn’t toy with you for over an hour just to leave you high and dry. You want to be filled, properly, don’t you?”

His breath is hot against your skin as he corners you into the small stall, pinning you against the black plastic wall. 

You don’t have it in you to wait for him to fuck you till you get home, but you don’t have it in you to speak much either, all you can do is whimper and nod, clutching at his hoodie to pull him into a kiss.

He groans against you, and the sound goes straight to your core. Hyuck’s lips quickly move to your throat, teasing by your sweet spot while you moan and thread your fingers through his soft hair.

When his teeth graze past the collar of your jacket, you push your hips forward, silently begging for more friction. He rewards you by pushing his thigh between your own, allowing you to grind down on him while his nimble fingers tug down the zipper.

For a moment, a scene flashes through your mind's eye. You envision John in a very similar position to where you are now, some faceless lover, adorned in the jacket that’s now keeping you from Hyuck-

 Your boyfriend buries his face in your exposed tits now, holding the leather open so he can access the cleavage pushed up by your bra.

“Hyuck, please-” you whimper, acutely aware that you’re in a public restroom.

“So needy,” he chuffs, nipping at your collarbone.

His hand slips to your pants, undoing them before roughly tugging the fabric down.

“Can you push the vibe out for me baby?” he prompts, thumb circling your clit.

The mere graze of his digit against your throbbing bud has your core clenching, following through with his command. Hyuck catches the vibrator as it falls, grinning at you. “Now say ah.”

“What?”

“It’s to keep you quiet, plus, I need this shit clean so I can put it back in my pocket.”

He’s such a fuck, but you dutifully open your mouth for him, accepting the toy.

The taste of your own pussy on your tongue has you mewling for Hyuck, reaching down to fumble with his belt.

You can feel his cock pressing against his jeans, and you’re practically drooling around the makeshift gag ball by the time you get him free of the denim.

Hyuck grabs the back of your head, pulling you in for a haphazardly sinful kiss. He licks at the toy, groaning from your slick that coats the plastic vibrator. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he growls, staring you in the eyes for a moment full of tension.

Then he flips you around, pushing at your back so your chest is pressed to the wall of the stall.

“Spread your legs for me, princess,” he instructs.

You do as you’re told, and he rubs the tip of his cock along your pussy lips a moment later. You moan around the vibrator, closing your eyes. 

God, you need to be filled so fucking bad-

“Always so wet for me,” Hyuck murmurs by your ear, his mouth teasing past your throat. “You came what? Five times on my bike? Six? You’re gonna give me one more.”

He pushes his cock into your wet hole, bottoming out immediately while your toes curl in your shoes, your nails clawing against the plastic wall of the stall.

“So fucking tight,” he groans, digging his fingers into your hips. 

“So fucking big,” you retort, and it’s true. Hyuck is around 5’9, maybe 5’10 or 5’11 on a good day in his work boots- but where he’s lacking - arguably - in height, he makes up for in cock. He’s probably around seven, seven and a half inches. And he’s girthy too, stretching out your tight pussy in a way a vibrator only wishes it could.

This is what you’ve been needing for over an hour.

All the toys in the world, but nothing, nothing, is like Hyuck’s cock. He sure as hell knows how to use it.  

Hyuck begins to rut into you, lips hot against your throat. The layers of leather covering your form are making you sweat, but then again, you’ve been sweating since that first orgasm. You can’t even bring yourself to care about the uncomfortable nature of this, because you’ve been desperate for Hyuck, and nothing is going to tear you away from this experience.

Nothing-

Except the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Hyuck freezes momentarily, then he slaps his hand over your mouth, muffling the sounds that have been escaping past the vibrator.

He picks up where he left off, railing into you even harder while your eyes roll back into your head.

Fuck, at this point, you feel like you’re possessed, spiritually, and physically.

No other man in your life has ever tempted you to be in a situation like this one, but Hyuck’s nothing if not a guy who broadens your horizons.

“You two are such animals.”

John’s voice makes your skin tingle, your eyes opening. You turn your head, meeting Hyuck’s gaze behind you. He only laughs. “Easy for you to say old man,” he calls.

“A vibrator in your girl’s pussy during ride night,” you can practically hear John shaking his head, “funny, I never thought of that.”

“Do you have something to say to me, or did you come just to chat and listen to my girl get railed?” Hyuck asks, irritation and amusement laced in his words.

“I got to watch her cum on your bike a couple of times, she wasn’t exactly subtle about it, I figure, might as well have some audio to burn into my memory too.”

Fucking hell.

Your pussy clenches desperately around Hyuck, and he laughs, kissing your throat.

“Oddly enough, John, I think my princess is into that. Open your mouth baby, let’s give John the vibrator to hold onto for now.”

You do as you’re told, spitting the toy into Hyuck’s hand and staring at him with a question in your eyes.

“You stay right here,” Hyuck instructs, pressing his hand to the back of your head to force your face against the wall. His motions have stopped, and he reaches behind himself to open the door. From the angle of where you are against the stall, John can’t see you, all he can do is reach in and accept the vibrator from your boyfriend. “Clean that off for me, will ya?”

You hear Johnny chuckle to himself, and then Hyuck’s locking the door again.

“Okay, baby, no need to hold back now. Put on a show for John, I know you want to.”

The first whimper that escapes you makes you claw at the wall, pressing your forehead against the cold plastic. Your eyes close, your teeth gnawing at your lip.

“Are you…” you swallow thickly, stifling a moan. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be, princess? It’s only John.”

“Fuck-” you whine as Hyuck reaches around your front, his fingers toying with your clit. 

“You always told me you had a thing for older men. Said I wasn’t your usual type- not daddy enough for you, well, here you go, baby. Let daddy hear you moan for my cock.” 

You seriously can’t believe this is happening. All you can do is try to relax while Hyuck fucks you stupid in some dive bar bathroom stall, your core still throbbing and desperate after six orgasms from a vibrator while on his bike. The fingers on your oversensitive bud are unrelenting, just like your boyfriend, and at this point, you can’t even bring yourself to care that his ride night dad is listening in, only a few feet away. 

“You sound so pretty, princess, show John how pretty you sound, stop holding back.”

Hyuck begins to suck on your sweet spot, and you gasp loudly, eyes closing. Each thrust of his hips has his cock hitting a place deep inside of you, making your toes curl. Then he pinches your clit, and you suck in a strangled breath.

“Want you to cum for me, baby, show us that you’re a good girl.”

“Hyuck-”

“Now’s not the time to talk.” His free hand wraps around your throat, and you shiver with anticipation. “Good girls listen to their boyfriends, don’t they princess?”

When he squeezes your neck, your core throbs, and a few more circles of your aching clit has you seeing stars. You let out a strangled gasp, grabbing at Hyuck’s tattooed wrist, keeping his hand around your throat while your pussy clenches tight on his cock, your orgasm washing over you like a waterfall.

“That’s it, princess,” Hyuck coos. “And you’re going to take every drop of my cum too, right? I know how much you love being full.”

“Please-” you whimper.

“Fuck.” You hear John groan just outside the stall, and another wave of pleasure erupts through you, goosebumps fleckling along your flesh. You’re delirious at this point, overcome by the high that’s tearing through every fiber of your being.

“Okay, princess, I’m there- take it, take it-” Hyuck squeezes your throat even tighter, and you gasp when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, filling you up with warmth while his hips stutter with effort.

“Hyuck-” you whimper, beginning to struggle in his grasp.

He releases your neck, tilting your head so he can lean over your shoulder and press his hot lips against your own, tongue invading your mouth while he finishes.

You’re both gasping by the time he stills inside of you. He rests his forehead against your own, breathing deeply and looking at you under heavy lids.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispers, pressing a shockingly chaste kiss to your lips.

Hyuck pulls away, helping you sit down onto the toilet so his cum doesn’t get on your clothes. He quickly wipes his cock. “We’ll give you some privacy,” he winks, exiting the stall. “Come on, John.”

Both men leave, and you’re free to pee in peace, trying to catch your breath.

When you’re finished up in the bathroom, you find Hyuck waiting right outside. His arm slings around your shoulder and he leads you onto the covered patio where everyone is already seated and enjoying drinks.

John waves the two of you over to a table, and you find it difficult to meet his gaze when you sit down.

It’s clear from the way John and Hyuck dive into a conversation with one of their friends that neither of them intend to discuss what just happened, and that’s fine by you. There’s always another time, and there’s always another ride night. 

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! He's never going to see this, but I just wanted to gush for a moment about how much I appreciate my significant other. For years, being a fanfic writer has been a touchy subject with prospective partners, but my boyfriend right now is so stupidly supportive of what I do here on Tumblr. I'm so blessed at all the ideas he's given me since we started dating, and this fic is just one of the many ways I've been able to creatively interpret aspects of our relationship into fiction so we can all enjoy even a slice of the joy that he gives me every day.

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “You’ve been good, cum for your boyfriend, bet he’ll love it when you make a mess on his tongue.” John is so suave- he knows exactly what to say, exactly how to be respectful but still an active verbal participant while Hyuck takes you to the edge. The combination of dirty talk and Hyuck’s motions on your pussy have you clamping down with a whine, your muscles clenching hard around Hyuck’s fingers while you cum.

cw/ tw. Vibrating anal plug while on a Harley, exhibitionism, voyeurism, threesome, unprotected sex, protected sex, double penetration (cock & fingers), anal, dirty talk, praise, spitting, pussy eating, multiple reader orgasms, dom/sub dynamic, hand job,  etc…   I petnames. (hers) Princess, baby. (Hyuck’s)  master. (John’s) daddy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k I teaser wc. 240

🌙 starring. Hyuck & Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

Riding with a toy inside your pussy is one thing, but riding with a butt plug is an entirely other arena of sensation. It’s been two months since your first ride night, and in those months, you and Hyuck have discussed allowing Johnny to join you for some fun. Hyuck had only agreed if he would have complete control, and part of that control, is stretching you out like this.

The worst part is they’re not even going to fuck you at the bar. No, you’re going to be wearing this plug for hours, and only after everything is finished, will you be heading to John’s for the final pleasure of the night.

Hyuck had also chosen to give you a vibrating plug, and for the ride there, he’d kept control of it, but at the bar, that had all changed. Sat between Johnny and Hyuck the two had passed the remote back and forth discreetly, and whenever the plug would jump inside of you, your head would be whipping to figure out who had decided to tease you.

You’re accepting a glass of beer from the waitress when the plug begins to vibrate, and you nearly spill your drink all over yourself. First, your eyes shift to Hyuck, only to find his hands on the table, which means the culprit is John.

He flashes you a wink, and you think you might just die here and now.

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general taglist

@gotshinct - @runahways - @milkteade - @mocha000

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nct taglist

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[seongwars]

away with the wind | ii

Pairing: dragonrider!Seonghwa x ex-dragonrider!Reader AU: dragon rider au | strangers -> lovers Summary: A spinal injury forces you to retire from dragon racing, and with it, the end of your engagement to Song Mingi. Park Seonghwa, a rising star in the world of dragon racing and heir to the prestigious House Park, seeks a new dragon after an unfortunate accident on the skyway. As the saying goes, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Word Count: 4.8K

Fic Masterlist

In the opulent halls of House Park, seated on the cliffs of the Auroran coast, where tapestries whispered tales of riders and their conquests, Park Seonghwa was born.

From the moment Seonghwa could walk, his mother, Lady Haerin Park, groomed him with a singular purpose in mind: to become the finest dragon racer in Aurora. The Park family’s honor rested on the wings of these creatures, often chosen from great breeders and their Houses. 

The young lord’s childhood was a blur of rigorous training, iron-fisted instructors, and the acrid scent of smoke and ash. He possessed a natural talent for piloting, and as his skills grew, so did his arrogance. Seonghwa moved through life as if the world existed solely to serve him.

He viewed dragons as tools, not sentient beings. Their loyalty was expected, their obedience demanded as they ripped through the sky, competing with one another to prove centuries of form and function. He mounted them onto the skyway, their roars echoing glory. 

To him, they were extensions of his will.

Seonghwa’s first dragon, Rami, was a gift from House Kim, long-time breeders of the Auroran Wyrm and allies to House Park. While bred for their versatility and sporting ability, the dragon lacked finesse. Her landings were jarring, and at times, her temperament flared unpredictably—a reflection of his friend, the young Lord Kim Hongjoong himself, Seonghwa thought.

His second dragon, Byul, was aloof, distant, and much too independent. Byul’s shimmering pink scales and piercing eyes gave her an air of mystery, but her reluctance to follow commands made her a challenging steed. Though Seonghwa thought of dragons as a means to an end, developing a bond was important as a rider, and Byul could not fulfill that duty. Her haughty nature often left Seonghwa feeling isolated and frustrated.

Then came Runner, Gale, Voltage, and finally, Edge. Runner was swift and nimble, but his skittish nature made him unreliable. Gale was as wild as the storms she conjured with her wings. Voltage, though a strong mover, was more like an overexcited puppy, quickly becoming a source of irritation. Thankfully, Seonghwa’s handler, Jeong Yunho, was more than happy to take on the young dragon as his companion.

And then Edge. With his sleek, dark scales and piercing gaze, Edge obeyed Seonghwa’s every command. Yet, he lacked agility. He lumbered on the skyway, hindering maneuvers. His massive wings, though powerful, seemed to drag against the wind, making sharp turns and quick dives nearly impossible. Seonghwa’s patience waned; he yearned for perfection, especially after the last race.

Seonghwa was in the lead, weaving through the narrow canyons to throw off his opponent as Ajax’s flames scorched the air behind him. Mingi’s laughter echoed off the rock walls, adrenaline surging through his veins as his Longhorn darted ahead, leaving Seonghwa bewildered. Longhorns were an unusual choice for racing and were traditionally bred for war, which only added to his confusion. Edge pulled forward, his wings sparking as they brushed against the jagged stone.

Mingi leaned forward, urging his crimson steed to close in on his rival, pushing Ajax to go in for the kill. Edge faltered, his tail singed by the flames, causing Seonghwa’s heart to skip a beat.

It’s just fire; dragons don’t burn, Seonghwa reminded himself, though his knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the reins. 

Ajax surged upwards, twisting back around with a primal roar and breakneck speed, something Seonghwa had never witnessed before in a war dragon. Longhorns, known for their brute strength, were typically used as tanks on the battlefield, their massive bodies serving as formidable defense mechanisms to stave off enemy lines. 

They weren’t known for speed, making Ajax’s agility all the more astonishing. With swift, predatory grace, Ajax’s talons slashed against Edge’s wing, severing its connection from the deltoid with a sickening tear. He let out a pained, guttural cry that echoed off the rock walls, his body slamming against the unforgiving canyon’s jagged edge as Seonghwa desperately tried to regain control.

Despite the dangers of the situation, Seonghwa’s focus never wavered from his dragon. As Edge’s wing was shredded and they began to plummet, his mind could only think of one thing–to stabilize them. With every ounce of strength and skill he possessed, Seonghwa pulled on the reins, trying to steady Edge’s descent. He shouted commands, his voice filled with a mixture of urgency and encouragement, hoping to reach Edge through the pain and confusion.

Though he had gone through his fair share of dragons, Seonghwa respected the partnership forged through countless hours of training and bonding with his dragon. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing Edge, not just because of the race, but because of the deep appreciation he had for him.

As they neared the canyon floor, Seonghwa leaned forward, whispering reassurances to Edge, urging him to fight through the pain. With a final, desperate effort, Seonghwa managed to guide Edge into a controlled glide, avoiding a catastrophic crash.

The moment they touched down, Seonghwa was off the saddle, rushing to Edge’s side. His hands trembled as he inspected the damage.

“Edge, come on, you’re going to be okay.” He stroked Edge’s dark scales, feeling their cool, smooth texture under his fingertips. He could feel the tremors running through the dragon’s body, blood gushing from the disconnecting wing. Edge lowered his head, whimpers vibrating through Seonghwa’s chest, chipping away at what he thought was the impenetrable fortress around his heart.

His heart sank as he watched medics guide Edge back to their base. The dragon’s labored breathing and injured wing was a constant reminder of their defeat. The moment they arrived, Seonghwa’s mother, Lady Haerin, rushed towards them.

“How could this happen?” Haerin’s voice trembled with disbelief.

His shoulders slumped in defeat. “Mother, I—”

“This race should have been a given. You should have easily outmaneuvered Song Mingi. I knew it. War dragons have no place on the skyway…” she droned on about how the Council needs to review their rules and abolish the use of certain breeds. But Seonghwa could only glance at Edge, who lay on the ground, whimpering softly as medics attended to his damaged wing. 

“It’s just one loss,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t have known…” He clenched his fists, his frustration and guilt boiling over. The weight of his mother’s expectations and his own disappointment laid heavy on his shoulders.

“Know what?” Haerin was puzzled, her stern expression softening slightly as she noticed the turmoil in her son’s eyes.

Seonghwa recalled Ajax’s movements during the race. The way he had maneuvered through the air with such precision and speed was unlike any Longhorn he had seen. It was clear that he wasn’t pure Longhorn. His streamlined snout and elongated wings hinted at a hybrid lineage, possibly mixed with a breed known for speed and agility. This combination of brute strength and speed was rare and highly unusual.

“That he was a hybrid,” Seonghwa finally admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and frustration. “Ajax isn’t just a Longhorn. He’s something more. That’s why I couldn’t predict his moves.”

Haerin’s eyes widened in realization, her anger dissipating as she processed the implications. “A hybrid… The Council must be informed! This changes the entire dynamic of the races.”

“Hybrids are allowed in racing, but there could be repercussions for other riders if The Council gets wind of this. Let me look into it. I’ll visit The Institute and talk to Wooyoung about obtaining Ajax’s records.” 

Haerin’s expression softened slightly, but her tone remained stern. “See that you do. Your reputation depends on it.” She glances over at the makeshift medical facility where Edge had been taken to for operation. “You’re going to have to replace Edge first. And don’t forget the Inferno Cup.”

For Seonghwa, the Inferno Cup held deep significance. House Park’s estate, with its grand halls and expansive grounds, had been the birthplace of this legendary competition. The inaugural event had been a grand spectacle, drawing dragon riders from all four corners of the realm to compete in a show of skill, bravery, and honor.

This tournament was a source of immense pride and inspiration for the House. Each generation of House Park was expected to uphold the honor and tradition of their ancestors by competing. Seonghwa was acutely aware of the expectations placed upon him, not just by his family, but by the entire racing community.

It wasn’t just about winning; it was about proving that he was the best dragon rider of his time. 

“Yes Mother.”

The Institute of Dragonology is a renowned establishment dedicated to the study and preservation of dragons. Founded centuries ago by scholars and dragon enthusiasts alike, the Institute has become the foremost authority on all things related to these magnificent creatures. 

Determined to exploit his newfound rival’s weakness, Seonghwa made his way to the Department of Conservation and Preservation, headed by the eccentric Director Jung Wooyoung. The department was renowned for its unparalleled expertise in dragon breeding and genetics. The scholars and researchers there were often regarded as the foremost authorities on dragon physiology and capabilities. Seonghwa knew that if anyone could help him find the ultimate dragon—a steed built for speed, agility, and endurance—it would be them.

“Your Grace! Welcome to the Department of Conservation and Preservation! I’m pleased to make your acquaintance!” Department Head Jung bowed deeply, a playful glint in his eye as he mocked his friend.

“I don’t have time for your eccentricities, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa sighed, his icy gaze sweeping the room, observing the colorful tapestries and bookshelves.

“You’re as forward as ever,” Wooyoung teased, propping his legs onto his cluttered desk. “I know why you’re here, but I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

Seonghwa clenched his jaw. “And why not?”

“You’ve run through every single breed in the entirety of the empire. But if you’re so inclined, our department would appreciate a generous donation to continue funding our research and development of new breeds at your behest!” Wooyoung’s tone was light, but his eyes were sharp, assessing his friend’s reaction.

“I see my mother has made some calls,” Seonghwa muttered, rolling his eyes. Lady Haerin, and Wooyoung’s mother, Lady Eunji, shared a friendship that spanned decades, laying the foundation for their sons to develop their own friendship. Though Seonghwa thinks of Wooyoung as a menacing figure in his life at times. 

Despite being in his mid-twenties, his mother couldn’t help but meddle in his affairs. Her influence was pervasive, and while it often worked to his advantage, it also came with its own set of frustrations. 

“While it’s true I need a new dragon, I also need the records of Song Mingi’s dragon. There’s something about him that doesn’t sit right with me.”

Wooyoung shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve never had an issue with him before, and now you make it seem as if he’s taken out your entire family. What could he possibly have done to,” he gestured towards Seonghwa, “make you so bitter?”

“Edge was injured because of him,” Seonghwa replied, his voice tinged with frustration. The memory of his dragon’s injury was still fresh. Ajax’s surprise attack, free falling to the canyon’s bottom, and the sight of Edge’s damaged wing were a constant reminder of his failure.

The director raised a brow, his expression skeptical. “Dragons get injured all the time,” he leaned forward, pointing an accusatory finger towards his friend. “I also didn’t think you cared about your dragons like that.”

“I can’t fly with a dragon missing half of its wing,” Seonghwa said, ignoring Wooyoung’s statement. His tone was cold, but beneath it lay a deep-seated worry for Edge’s well-being. 

Wooyoung studied Seonghwa for a moment, his playful demeanor giving way to a more serious expression. “Alright, I get it. You’re worried about your dragon and you want to make sure this doesn’t happen again. But what exactly are you looking for in those records?”

“There’s something off about Ajax,” Seonghwa admitted, his eyes narrowing as he recalled the race. “His movements, his speed—it’s unnatural for his breed. Unpredictable even. I need to know if there’s something in his lineage contributing to these traits.”

Wooyoung nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of Seonghwa’s concerns. “The archives have a record of every single dragon’s pedigree in Aurora. But Seonghwa,” he added, his tone softening, “make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons.”

Seonghwa stood in the dimly lit archives of the Institute, the scent of aged parchment and ink filling the air. Shelves lined with scrolls and records stretched endlessly, each containing the meticulously recorded pedigrees of dragons and their history in Aurora.

The Scribes had always been diligent, ensuring that everything from Auroran History to each dragon’s lineage was accurately documented, a testament to the Institute’s commitment to preserving the integrity of dragon breeding.

“Why are you here?” A voice demanded, echoing through the quiet archives.

Seonghwa remained unperturbed and responded to Hongjoong without looking up. “To take down Song Mingi. Why are you here?”

Hongjoong blinked, taken aback by the bluntness of Seonghwa’s response. “I work here?”

“A far cry from the great halls of House Kim,” Seonghwa retorted, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Why you little–” Hongjoong’s face flushed with anger, raising fists at his friend. “Unlike someone who spends his days gallivanting, I take great pride in bringing honor to my House as a scholar of Draconian History!”

Seonghwa straightened, holding the scrolls tightly in his hands. “I need everything you have on Furies."

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued despite his irritation. “And why’s that?”

“A little bird told me that Mingi’s dragon is the product of a Longhorn and a Fury,” he replied, his tone serious. He recalled his encounter with you in the hallway, your eyes burning with a fierce determination.

The Historian snorted, shaking his head. “Fury, my ass. Everyone knows they’re protected by law and wouldn’t leave Mount Hala unless there was a climate catastrophe. If anything, it’s probably a Noxtail. No House would be caught dead breeding a Fury unless they wanted to go to prison."

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “You always think you know everything, don’t you?”

“All I’m saying is that the chances of a Longhorn and a Fury producing offspring can only be the result of a black market breeding,” Hongjoong replied, his voice dripping with skepticism. “And if that’s the case, we’re dealing with something much bigger than just a falsified pedigree.”

Seonghwa’s expression hardened. “You're saying Song Mingi purchased his dragon off the black market?”

Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his temples. “Well no–first of all, where did you get all of this information?

"I never reveal my sources."

"It's Y/N, isn't it?"

“Oh. So that’s her name?” Seonghwa mused, a hint of a smile on his lips. “She mentioned something about being with Mingi when he purchased his hatchling. Didn’t say where though.”

“You didn’t bother to ask?” Hongjoong’s frustration was palpable.

“She kept trying to sell a Dreamwood to me,” Seonghwa explained, shrugging. 

“They do have beautiful dragons,” Hongjoong admitted under his breath, a touch of admiration in his voice. “You should probably pay a visit to their House. Ask about Ajax’s origins, and take Yunho with you. He has a good eye for potential racing prospects."

"That’s what you said about Voltage and he ended up becoming Yunho’s dragon. If he comes along he'll only want to play with them," Seonghwa pouts.

Hongjoong leaned back, crossing his arms with a smug grin. “Well, someone has to keep track of all your misgivings.”

Seonghwa chuckled, shaking his head. “Just get me the records, will you? I need to know if there’s any truth to this.”

Hongjoong sighed, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “Fine, fine. I’ll see what I can find. But you owe me for this.” He handed Seonghwa a tattered tome, its leather cover worn and edges frayed from years of use. 

“You’ll want to start with their physiology; it’s the best way to cross-reference some of Ajax’s physical characteristics.” He snatched it back as his friend reached out for the book. “It’s delicate, so be careful,” he warned, stroking the cover of the book.

Often referred to as snow dragons, Star Furies are elusive creatures that dwell in the icy peaks of Mount Hala. These dragons are known for their immense size and graceful movements, gliding effortlessly through blizzards and snowstorms.

Their streamlined bodies and elongated wings allow them to soar through the air with remarkable swiftness, even in the harshest of winter storms. They can reach astonishing speeds, making them nearly impossible to catch or outrun. Their sharp reflexes and keen senses enable them to detect and evade threats long before they come close.

His mind raced with possibilities. If Mingi had indeed acquired his dragon through illicit means, it could unravel a web of deceit that stretched far beyond a single falsified pedigree. The implications were staggering, and the stakes had never been higher.

“Did you find anything?” Hongjoong yawned, after what seemed like a lifetime. 

“Maybe,” Seonghwa replied, his eyes scanning the ancient texts spread out before him. “If Ajax is half Fury like Y/N said, he was probably bred somewhere near Mount Hala. 

Hongjoong’s eyes widened, the fatigue momentarily forgotten. “With all of their gambling dens and nightlife, Halazia would be the perfect place for illegal activities to go unnoticed. If Ajax was bred there, it means we’re dealing with a network far more dangerous than we initially thought.”

The Historian rubbed his temples, trying to process the gravity of the situation. “What are you going to do now? You still need to see his pedigree to confirm your hunch. Otherwise you’re going to be chasing a dead lead.”

Seonghwa closed the book with a decisive thud. “I’m going to visit Y/N to confirm the location. I could care less about uncovering a much larger conspiracy as long as I know how to beat Mingi. The Inferno Cup is just around the corner, and I need every advantage I can get.”

Hongjoong sighed, shaking his head. “You and your competitive streak. Since you’re set on going, consider buying a Dreamwood. All of the other Houses are threatening to blacklist you because of your… standards. They’re not too happy with you returning dragons left and right.”

“I just know what I want,” Seonghwa smirked. Hongjoong tossed a scroll at him, the parchment unfurling in mid-air before landing in Seonghwa’s hands. 

“Here’s Ajax’s pedigree. Y/N might be able to corroborate the dates, names, and Houses. Otherwise, I’m sure Lady Chunja or Sunmi will be around to help. They have extensive knowledge of dragon lineages and might spot something we’ve missed.”

Seonghwa unrolled the scroll, his eyes scanning the intricate details of Ajax’s lineage. The names of dragons and their breeders were meticulously recorded, but there were gaps and inconsistencies that raised more questions than answers.

“This is a start,” he muttered, more to himself than to Hongjoong.

Though not a Great House, House L/N has held their own over the last five centuries as a breeding House for Dreamwood Ridegbacks. Nestled against the backdrop of rolling hills, the estate was surrounded by lush, verdant gardens that seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with vibrant flowers that clash against Aurora's wilds. The scent of smoke and jasmine filled the air, creating an intoxicating blend that welcomed visitors as they approached.

The house itself was a masterpiece of architecture, with its white stone walls covered in climbing ivy and blooming vines. The windows were large and arched, allowing sunlight to flood the interior with a warm, golden glow.

At the highest point of the roof, a specially constructed dragon perch stood out. This perch was a large, platform made of reinforced stone, capable of withstanding the weight and power of even the largest dragons. 

As Seonghwa and Yunho approached the iron gates of House L/N’s estate, the sound of rustling leaves caught their attention. A small figure darted out from behind them, her hair a tangled mess, chubby cheeks and clothing smeared with dirt. Perched upon her shoulders was a lavender fledgling dragon, its large inquisitive eyes glowing with curiosity. She let out a small, protective huff as it surveyed the newcomers.

“Who goes there?” a girl no older than the age of six demanded, raising her wooden spear at the intruders. Her fledgling echoed her sentiment with tiny puffs of smoke escaping its nostrils.

Yunho put his hands up in defense. “We come in peace. I’m Jeong Yunho and this is Park Seonghwa of House Park.”

“State your purpose!” she commanded, her eyes narrowing. The fledgling shifted on her shoulders, its wings fluttering slightly as if ready to take flight at any moment.

“We request an audience with Lady Y/N of House L/N,” Yunho said, trying to keep a straight face.

“There is no one here by that name. I am the lady of this House! You will answer to me!” the girl declared, puffing out her chest. The fledgling mimicked her posture, its tiny chest swelling with pride.

“Why are you negotiating with a child?” Seonghwa whispered, leaning closer to Yunho.

“Because she’s armed and looks like she means business,” Yunho whispered back, trying not to laugh.

The fledgling dragon let out a small roar, more adorable than intimidating, but it was clear that it was ready to defend its young mistress. Its lavender scales glinted in the light, and its tail swished back and forth with anticipation.

“Oi, Sohee! Leave the riff raff alone,” you called out from above. Seonghwa snapped his head up, mouth agape in awe as you swept over the estate on Cirrus. Her scales reflected the sunlight in a dazzling display, each movement fluid and graceful. She beat her wings powerfully, creating gusts of wind that blew leaves and sediment as she descended onto the rook of the house, her landing light as a feather.

Cirrus’s eyes, a deep violet, scanned the area with a keen awareness, ensuring everything was in order before you dismounted. Her wings folded neatly against her sides, and she let out a soft, rumbling purr.

“I see you’ve taken me up on my offer,” you grinned, sliding off Cirrus’s back with ease. “Welcome to House L/N.” You smiled, patting her neck affectionately.

<< i | iii >>

[moonlight-prose]

What is “Rogue Redemption” about 👀

-dia

DIAAA okay so this is an old old wip that i've dug up cause of moon knight. it's a western au with poe dameron and he's apart of a group (rey and finn and rose) that are attempting to take down the villains of the story (first order). the reader is a widow called songbird who has a famous story.

i based the reader's backstory heavily on the song Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) but the version by Nico Vega.

i'll drop a large chunk of it under the cut. it's got to be rewritten/edited so it's a little odd.

If you wished it, you could sleep here underneath the cover of the stars the whole night. Remain here and maybe you’d be lucky enough to see one shooting across the sky like you did when you were younger. But tonight, would not be one of those nights. You had to return home. Why? You couldn’t tell, but a feeling deep in your gut told you to get home, to not stay out here all night. 

So, you pulled the reins until she faced back in the direction you came from, turning your back on the view of the sky. You spurred her into a slow trot, in no rush to return back so quickly, and relaxed as best you could. Sounds of crickets echoed in the night air, the smell of dry grass and earthy ground filling your senses. Except another sound you didn’t recognize hit your ears. A loud shot from a gun that had you moving faster until you were once again pushing her into a gallop. 

Another horse came up behind you, this one a dark brown, only you couldn’t see its rider. Pulling the small pistol, you always had at your hip you turned to point it at them only to find their own in your face. Dark eyes met yours underneath the brim of his black hat, but you didn’t give him a chance to see you fully because you were pushing your hose into a faster run. What sounded like a laugh echoed behind you as he chased after you, matching your speed and nearly catching up fully. 

“Come on girl,” you muttered under your breath, turning every few seconds to see how much he had gained on you. 

Another shot rang through the quiet night air, causing you to flinch down into a ducking position. You could see your home and all you needed was to get to it; bar yourself inside and shoot at whoever dared to come in. The adrenaline was rushing through your veins, controlling your every motion, every action, because all you needed was to get away from this man. You were already swinging your leg over as she still ran, leaping off and to the ground in mid sprint, but he was right behind you. 

There was no other option, you had to face him. 

Pulling your shotgun from it’s holster you reloaded it in one motion, spinning and pointing it in his direction only to see that he stood with his own gun raised as well. A dark trench coat covered his figure, but you could see the spurs on his black boots and the dark eyes from earlier peeking out from underneath his black hat. The whine of your horse came from behind you as she came to a stop near you, her head bowing in your direction. 

“Your move,” he said first. 

“That depends.”

He lips tilted in a crooked smile. “On what darlin’?”

“On if you’ll shoot me first.” You had no humor for this man’s actions. Chasing you home and holding a gun in your face. It was good he didn’t know who you were; your reputation, because you could drop him in a second if you wanted to.

Your finger crept towards the trigger, getting ready to pull it back and do just that. But then...he dropped the gun. Lowered his arm and pushed the weapon back into the holster at his hip. Whatever game he was playing at you were buying it. You’d seen men pull out their gun faster than you could pull the trigger.

“What’s your name?” you asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

He smiled even more. “Name’s Poe Dameron ma’am.”

That was impossible. Poe Dameron died four years ago in a shootout somewhere in the north, but there he stood holding his hand out as if he was going to shake yours. You see, this man held a reputation. One even greater and bloodier than yours ever would, because he was the one, they believed to be one of the three. Ghosts that hunted, killed the bad people on this earth, because justice needed to be delivered somehow. He's the one they called Rogue. The one who ran away from The Rebels and became his own service of justice. The lawless rogue outlaw with no town to his name.

[i-got-these-words]

A sneak peek of the fic I’ve been working on...

The night air was dank, the skies dark save for the twinkling traces of cracked and chipped stars dotting the triumphs and defeats of long-forgotten deities. Bracketed by towering streetlights that were either defunct or too dim to pass highway lighting regulations, the stretch of freeway ahead of them was deserted. And theirs to claim.

He Tian wasted no time shifting gears and rolling the throttle, the thrum of the motorcycle’s cylinders reverberating through the worn saddle. And through his worn, tattered soul. He tightened his grip on the handlebars and clamped his denim-clad legs against the gas tank, longing for the exhilarating illusion of freedom only a high-speed race could offer. In the periphery of his vision, Zhan Zheng Xi flicked on the high beams of his Z H2, body leaning forward as he became one with the bike. Together, they made tracks on the asphalt, burning rubber and spitting fumes, the combined sounds of their revving engines like the howls of demonic choir boys.

The landscape—mere shadows and Stygian silhouettes—was too dark to make out but He Tian was going fast enough for the faded road markings to blur to nothing. For his mind to empty of everything but the beast under him. The Streetfighter V4 had the edge in terms of speed, but the Z H2 was smoother around bends, and Zheng Xi was a formidable rider.

By the time they veered onto the exit ramp, the familiarity of their surroundings tempered the adrenaline rush coursing through He Tian’s veins and he felt a pang of sorrow laced with regret; the aftermath of the Blood Wars had followed him home. He wasn’t naïve enough to have presumed that a seven-year battle against the undead wouldn’t decimate the already-precarious economy with debt and inflation. He just hadn’t expected this level of neglect and dereliction; he barely recognised his home city in the cracks of unmaintained roads and the ruins of condemned buildings.

He Tian took point, leading Zheng Xi from the outskirts of the city through to the downtown district. Although traffic was non-existent, they were forced to slow down to manoeuvre around sewage muck and drifts of litter. The street lighting was as shit as it had been on the highway and they both left their full beams on—more for He Tian’s benefit as Zheng Xi could comfortably rely on his own natural night vision.

They passed a single-story shopping complex, the doors and windows boarded up, loutish graffiti and bleached posters coating most of the exterior. With a sense of nostalgia—bittersweet with a hint of a heartache—He Tian spotted the tobacco store where his fourteen-year-old self had underhandedly scored his first pack of Lucky Strikes. Slowing his bike down to a stop, He Tian remembered long drags, the dizzying rush of unfiltered tobacco, and the high of sharing a smoke with the prettiest boy in school.

Clumsy fingers, clammy. A fit of coughs and giggles. A tired Bic and the strike of a matchstick like a comet in the night.

What’s that? No one asked for an angsty paranormal AU I hear you say? Well, too fucking bad. You’re getting it. 

[bearseokie]

Hot Pursuit (M) | gunhak

On the run from a team of assassins when your plan to overlap their leader’s power goes south, you find yourself in a pickle. Left broke and on the side of the road by your own team, Gunhak – a biker on a journey across the country – finds you, and he’s too vengeful to let you go down alone.

DETAILS — [ 18+ | drabble | 10.2k ] PAIRING — biker! gunhak x ex mafia! gender-neutral reader GENRES — mafia! au, romance, thriller, violence, smut, angst WARNINGS — mafia activity, abandonment, high-speed chases, mentions of wanting to kill/end a life, blood, unprotected sex (do not), oral (reader! receiving), hair tugging, nipple-play, cum-eating, dirty talk, physical altercations, riding a bike with no helmet (illegal), death, violence

The sounds of the locks clicking were so vivid. Tired eyes coated with sleep; your pupils fought to help you see your surroundings. Vengeful expressions on your team's faces, only one word came from their mouth. "Inevitable."

Your body was hurled from the moving vehicle, the harsh texture of the road against your skin making you hiss. Two loud thumps came from ahead of you, the bags you were traveling with discarded onto the same road.

The streetlights of the long highway were blinding, impotently laying in the middle of the abandoned thoroughfare as tears rimmed your eyes. Limbs clamoring against the pavement, your knees dug into the ribbed street as you looked up at the stars. Bright, each one flickered, the clearest one at the farthest length beaming you in the direction the car was traveling. You stood, the vague argument your sleepy form had overheard from your team deciding on when to kick you out brutally coming to your mind as you hurled forward and fell back down. Almost too exhausted to move, you found your strength once more, standing to lift the two backpacks from the ground and onto your shoulders as you wobbled down the empty road.

Something important on the ground far behind you, the leather cover's sound as the piece hit the pavement didn't catch your senses. You stumbled to keep up with the illuminating star overhead, watching the colors around the ball of air change from the heat of the stellar and your eyes playing tricks on you from exhaustion. Your heavy lids continued to droop as you walked, the loud sound of an engine revving behind you making you halt and spin on your heels.

A high-powered engine meekly gaining on you, the rider’s stance was focused. Leather jacket paired with gloves, the motor roared in your direction, your feet dancing beneath you. The determined rider lingered forward, shaded helmet so engulfed in the pitch dark that you could nearly see your own reflection spinning around and dashing off.

Building’s passed by your pacing form, the dark streets of the city nothing compared to the nightlife you had seen in the movies. Only enlightened by the dim street lights above, some of the bulbs flickered, some were completely out, but none of them stopped the person on the bike from tailing you. The blocks your feet ran were nothing to the adrenaline pumping through your veins, body ignited by a source you had never felt; but a danger you were all too familiar with.

The alleyways were unwelcoming as you twisted and turned them, the rider keeping up with your form but keeping a distance. Your eyes matched with every corner, every dark space, nothing lighting the match that would keep you safe. In one final pull to Emerald City, you found yourself wound up in a dead end, your body slamming into the wall as the motor behind you halted.

The person’s fingers clenched the clutch, the black and green rimmed vehicle barely screeching as they leapt from the machine and bound towards you. Large frame panting beneath the layers of clothing and thick leather, their gloves fingers pressed into the shaded helmet. The crown of the biker being removed caused your knees to grow weak, falling backwards into the brick wall as you panted.

“Are you alright?” His soft eyes met yours first, the blonde hair on his head blowing from the hollowed breeze of the wind. The same leathered glove stretched out, his fingers elongated and gesturing your own grip to take his. “I am so sorry I chased you-“ The man was almost as startled by himself as you were of him. “-but I saw this on the road, and it matched your face. I thought it might be important.”

The bounded ID in his hold was being returned to you, your form still stationed on the ground nearly weeping at the true sight of your face as he opened the button and showed you the card. Your hands pressed into your face, cold and dirtied palms from the ground now lingering the pigments onto your skin.

He took in your disheveled form but continued to hold out his free hand. The man seemed gentle as he pulled you from the ground, features stern and the opposite of his glare as he offered you a toothless smile. “Long night?”

“No kidding.” Your laughter turned into a somber sob, his hand not leaving yours. You watched his brows knit, his eyes leaving your face to notice he had forgotten to let go.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry.” He apologized a second time, a faint laugh at the end of his words. “Again. U-Uhm – I’m Gunhak.”

The man’s sudden introduction had your stuttering on your words to give him your own name. The lift of his cheeks as his eyes rummaged the skinny puddles of the alleyway bared his next question with hesitation. Gunhak’s helmet had been placed on the handles of his bike when he stood, the second hard breeze of the deadening night seeping through the cracks of the buildings and rutting the sturdy hood against the steel vehicle. Your form hopped at the sound, eyes matching with his silenced bike before his hands rose in the air.

“It’s alright. Why are you so jumpy?” The small flood of questions left his mind and out of his mouth, the confused expression on his face leading you to believe that he wasn’t filtering the curiosity he spoke. “A-And why did you run from me?”

“T-This is a lot, Gunhak.” You mumbled out, the man’s eyes lighting up at his name coming through your hoarse voice. “Please, I didn’t mean any trouble. If anything, I’m more of a nuisance than you would believe.” You wanted to bite down on your tongue, keep from explaining too much, but the man hung off your every word. “Listen, okay? Just, don’t follow me. I can take care of myself, j-just watch your own back.”

Your form made it towards his side until your back was met with the adjoining wall. Eyes glazed over with the bags returned to your grasp and the ID safely in your possession, you slid against the harsh brick wall until your positions had shifted and you were on the outskirts of the alleyway.

Gunhak’s eyes silently pleaded that you would keep talking; explain it all, fill him in, although he was a stranger. But you found yourself bolting, bags clinking with the items inside, running into the night as the only sounds in your ears were the patters of your shoes against the concrete and the scuffing of his boots as he ceased his following at the edge of the alley, watching you depart from him with tears streaming down your face.

It was a moment where everything shifted. Your life has been tangents of you working for yourself, living for yourself. But as your shoes stomped against the sidewalk, you realized something: Gunhak had seen your identification card. Your real identification card, not the one you gave out to keep your cover on the downlow.

The wind whipping past your face dried the tears into your cheeks, nose sniffling as you slowed your pace. Taking in your surroundings, the thin hoodie over your torso was hardly enough to keep you warm on such a chilled night, the breeze nipping at the skin beneath the fabric. Your eyes watered a second time from the bitter air, a familiar sound of a roaring engine coming up on you again.

Gunhak held a place in your mind you had yet to unlock, even on the first encounter. The man’s hospitality had you reeling to understand him, but the thought of putting him in danger – if he wasn’t in it already – made you want to turn yourself inside out.

“Find something else of mine to return?” You asked as he slowed his bike down. His gloved hand reached up to press into the shield, the pane of glass clicking as it was lifted from the helmet, allowing you to hear him better.

“Where are you headed?” His hand was barely on the gas handle as he reared the vehicle forward with your walking pace. Head turned between watching you tilt your head and to keep an eye on the road at the same time. “y/n!”

The use of your real name brought your body to shudder, the word so unused – so fresh and expired at the same time. Your eyes turned towards him first, watching his legs walk his bike forward and stop to turn off the engine, silence filling the space between you both an additional time.

“Gunhak, please.” You sighed, the exhaustion returning to your bones as you stumbled on your own two feet. The man looked ready to jump from his own bike to catch you, the little sight of his face through the crack of his helmet’s shield letting you see the anxious look in his eyes.

“You’re too tired to be walking.” He read your exact situation so easily, his tongue carrying the conversation faster than your mouth ever could. “At least let me drive you to the nearest motel.”

Your body twisted to face him, the shivering of your limbs lifting him from his seat. Gunhak’s tall form lifted and stood before you a second time, his hands rustling in the bag attached to the back of his bike as he pulled out a second leather jacket. Shaking the article, he pushed out the sleeves as he opened it wide. Inviting eyes gleaming at you from a few feet away, his smile begged you to come forward.

The sight of him being so kind - so considerate - had your knees weak. The straps of your bags slowly released from your shoulders, falling to the ground as you allowed him to guide your arms through the coat and onto your body. Already warming up to the thick fabric and Gunhak, his scent filled your nostrils, the cologne faint but there as he lifted your bags from the ground.

One bag tied down to the back of his bike like his own, the other was pulled back over your shoulders by Gunhak’s focused form. His light tugs at the bag to assure it was secure made you rock forward, his arm traveling around your waist to pull you back and stand you up straight freeing every breath of air stored in your lungs at once.

“S-Sorry. You’re just rocking all over the place. When’s the last time you got some real sleep?”

“When does anyone get real sleep these days?”

You shook of his question, watching as his leg swung over the bike and he kicked on the engine again. His hand rose to gesture you to climb on, your leg swinging over like his own. You felt his arms twist back, his gloved hands taking your own to wrap your hold around his waist. You felt him lightly chuckle at your nervousness, his fingers guiding your own to latch securely together for a strong hold. Head turned against his back, the bike roared to life as he jolted it forward, taking off into the night with you clinging to him.

You believed that the wind lashing by you as you ran was enough, but as you were consumed by the frigid air of the night riding on the back of Gunhak’s bike, you had never felt so awake. The lights of the city still glowed in some places, red beaming closed signs all around lighting up the streets as you moved more inside of the walls of buildings. Designed trees and bushes on the sides of the road, the spectating lights of cars shadowing the motorcycle brought your head to snap around and your firm grip to loosen.

His voice muffled from his helmet, you heard Gunhak call out “Hold on.” The man was unaware of what he had gotten himself into, two black cars closing in on his vehicle. His own head turned to gaze into his rearview mirrors, watching as one of the black SUV’s got outstandingly close.

“What’s going on?” He shouted back at you through the headset of the helmets, your form tightening to hold on to him as tight as you could. Inevitability had caught up to you, the rounding sounds of the covert cars trying to pry Gunhak in between them no match for the man well bounded.

Your words went muffled as he revved the bike, speeding far ahead of the cars. Trees whipped by like lightyears, bushes had leaves pulled from the stems just from the extra wind created by the racing bike, and Gunhak had managed to get the two of you in front of the cars. Dangerous turns made by the man at your mercy, he guided you through green lights until the fourth light turned red and captured the prowlers by surprise. A breakthrough in the speeding chase, Gunhak broke through an alleyway too skinny for the cars to follow, their brakes screeching much like his own had not long ago.

The streets went silent again, the harsh panting of the man in control of the bike bringing tears to your eyes. Cowering behind him as your hands shook against his abs, his knuckles tightened around the handles of the bike as he sped into the parking lot of the motel. A dark space between two of the buildings, he brought your world to a standstill in one quick movement as he parked the vehicle and put down the kickstand at the same time he lifted himself away from you.

“Don’t speak.” He growled as he tossed off the helmet. The shield was on the handles again, his marching form grabbing his bag from the back of the bike as he stomped off up the steps towards the office.

Minutes passed, only silence and your heavy breathing in your ears. You shook with anticipation, the look of boiling blood within Gunhak’s eyes making your view shift upside down. The man had only signed on to help a stranger, and now his life was being threatened by a group of people he didn’t even know existed.

“Come on.” Jaw clenched and teeth gritting, he tossed your second bag over his shoulder, his free hand gripping at your wrist as he tugged you along down the sidewalk to another building. He was fuming, the tight grip on your limb making you wince and stumble behind him – he didn’t even spare you a glance. The tables had turned, the danger you put him in getting to him on the first go, and by the time he had you in the room he paid for, your back was pressed against the wall.

“G-Gunhak, I c-can explain.” You cried out, his body releasing the bags onto the floor as his forearm pressed into your chest, heaving you against the wall.

“Explain? Explain. You’re going to somehow explain why two huge SUVs just attempted to run us off the road? Smash into us? Doing something even worse when the drivers and passengers actually got out? What the fuck was that, y/n?” His nostrils flared in anger, the once fluffy blonde hair on his head stuck to his forehead and temples from the sweat pouring down his body. Anxiety in every nerve - his form read as intrepid, but his eyes read as horrified.

“I told you before! When we were in the alley-“ You broke out, voice cracking as you yelled at him. The man didn’t waver from the rise in your tone or the shattered bits of your voice, his eyes squinted as they stared you down. He wanted answers, and your time was running up to tell him. “You found my ID. You’ve seen my face; you know my name. I was on your bike, so now they’re going to be after you, too.”

“Who?” His eyes finally blew, a mixed expression across his face like he was living in a real-life action movie. Pupils the size of quarters, you watched him finally take in the situation.

“I tried to kill my boss. I got ditched by my group, and now his team of assassins are after me.” You spat it out in the simplest way possible. The man’s grip against your body released your feet back onto the floor as he bit down on his tongue. He was petrified - you could see it in the lines of his face and the pout on his lips – but as his brows knitted, you knew the cogs were turning in his head.

“What did he do to make you want to kill him?” He asked slowly, tongue pressing into the roof of his mouth as he swallowed.

“He was mistreating everyone. My team, his own; I’m surprised he still has anyone on his side.”

“So, you were doing it for a good cause?”

“Do I look like a killer to you, Gunhak?” You asked, lashes batting against your face as his nose crinkled in thought. Your hand reached out while in the process of balling into a fist, playfully hitting his arm as he hissed. A smile was slowly growing on his lips again, his own eyes blinking at you as he caught his breath and let his mind reconnect the dots.

“No.” His head shook lightly, face to face with you. Your eyes glistened in the dim lamp’s bulb of the motel room, Gunhak stepping back from you to give you room. “Good.” His head bobbled in the opposite direction, the nod modest as he pressed his lips into a thin line. “Then I guess we can be roommates for the night.”

Your eyes both shifted to the surrounding room, your eyes falling on the single - but double - bed against the wall before meeting each other’s gaze again. “This is going to be a long night.”

The steam of the shower had released your tense muscles, finally clean of the dirt from the road and the past you had been let go from. The room was freezing as you stepped out of the bathroom, Gunhak’s intense gaze falling on your hardly clothed figure as you pulled on his extra leather coat for warmth. You missed his lips curving upwards, the wrinkles in his forehead when he walked past you to take his shower – you even missed the loud thump of his heart as the door shut to.

Sound of running water filling the void of silence in the motel room, your eyes caught sight of his opened bag. The few layers of clothing sprawled out of the top made you laugh and shake your head, moving over to press the multiple fabrics back inside and zip it up. His scent was resilient, all around you as the lightheaded feeling of smelling his testosterone made you shiver and pull back from the bag. A loud noise echoed as the article turned sideways and released the items inside onto the floor as it fell off the bed, your panicked wheeze bringing a laugh from the man’s throat.

“Looking for something?” he questioned, your form spinning on your knees to see his head tilted down and gaze strongly staring over you. Shirtless body cascaded with drips from the shower not yet dried, he had showered in minutes to assure you weren’t left alone - purposely aware that you would get curious about him.

“I-I was just putting your clothes back in.”

“Mhm~” he nodded. “Not snooping around trying to understand me?”

The thought had exceeded your mind multiple times now, pure curiosity for why the man is the way he is staying in your frontal cortex until you gained answers. Your brows furrowed, staring between him and the remaining clothes on the floor as you lifted them onto the bed. He knew what you were thinking – he had the last time you were talking of him in your own mind, and as his lips moved, you could almost speak his sentence word for word in your own voice.

“You won’t find anything in there.”

“Just as mysterious as me, I guess.” You laughed, placing the last item back into the bag before his arm moved past your peripheral. Veins bulging from his taut arms, your pupils dilated at the sight of his golden skin, watching his limb lift the heavy bag from the bed easily and put it on the floor beside your own.

“You’re not a mystery to me anymore.” He grinned, your eyes squinting in his direction. The thought on the tip of your tongue, the flash memory of his joke came to your mind just as he issued another deep laugh. “I found your ID before I even knew you.”

“Ah— right.” You almost pouted at your mistake.

Your body fell back against the mattress with a huff, Gunhak’s form pressing down into the mattress as he pulled the covers from under you to place above your legs. You sat up to pull off his jacket, placing the thick fabric at the end of the bed as you laid back down, his awkward form lying beside you. Lights diminished in the dark room, the flicker of the red vacancy light from outside made you blink rapidly. You felt him shift, arms going under his head as his eyes shut gently, ignoring your eyes watching him.

“Gunhak-“ Your voice rose faintly, a slight hum coming from the man in response. “Why are you alone?”

“I like being alone.”

A simple response, you couldn’t have expected him to say more. Witty and down to the bone, Gunhak’s face held two forms just like his personality. He seemed to be cutting in certain ways, his hunger for a purpose guiding him on his bike like a boat floating in whatever direction the water took it. But at the same time – he seemed compassionate. He was too quick to help you for you to believe him wrong or disconsolate, the beads in his eyes like small light bulbs illuminating his path, and now your own.

“But why are you?”

“I’m just on a road trip, y/n.” Your name falling from his lips was still new to you, your eyes opening wide as you hardly turned to face him. He seemed entranced with what was behind his eyelids, his chest rising and descending in a way that you knew he was still conscious – still listening.

“What are you running from?”

His eye closest to you peeled open, his frame swiveling on the bed until he was facing you with his head propped up from his bent elbow. So rapt by what you had just said, he ignored the filter in his mind – the same one as your own that you had destroyed when you told him about yourself and your past – sucking on his bottom lip as the muffled words came out.

“I like running from nothing and everything at the same time. Makes life worth living and gets me into a lot of trouble. A lot like my new acquaintance with you.” His free hand was in the air as he spoke, the padding of his index finger coming down onto your nose with a little pat in the same moment he mentioned you.

You had been so unhinged when he met you, so lost – and then found. Gunhak had pulled you off the road in enough time to give you the chance to run. Had he not been there, those cars would have managed to find you in a moment’s time – you’d be roadkill instead of lying beside your knight in shining armor as his eyes leered over you.

In tandem with the light, you caught his body rocking back and forth. Another mental debate between the man and his morals, you were the first to break the filter again. Body curving to match his, your form slid against him as your lips sealed a kiss. Just as the sun meets the moon when it sets, you finally felt the beat of his rapid heart. Your mouths were as attached as the beating organs, his arm gliding around your back as his lips merged and deepened between your own. He was guiding – just as he had been – allowing you to fall back into the mattress. Keeping his bearings, not rushing the moment, he lingered over you as he broke the kiss, your eyes matching for the first full time.

Seeing him - not just the person that had found and returned your identity, not just the biker that had trailed you down the road out of concern about if you had a roof over your head to sleep under that night, not just the man that willingly pulled out his second and only other jacket to place over your shoulders - you saw Gunhak for who he was. A man on a journey for a life worth asking for, he was filling a void – one that included pressing his lips so gently against yours that he was trapping a moan at the back of his throat.

The silked lips diverged from yours to litter your neck with light kisses, the softness of his mouth like a new paint brush on a canvas. His hand moved to hold the side of your face, index finger grazing the shell of your ear as his thumb pressed into your cheek. Gently, he ran the rough pads of his digits down your neck on the opposite side where his kisses lingered.

You were in a new state of mind, purely relaxed below the safe aura of Gunhak. His eyes fluttered shut as the kisses moved lower, your own opening to watch him take his sweet time with you. One hand following the frame of your body, the other bent at the side of your head for leverage - Gunhak's body vibrated with anticipation.

Unable to hide the fact that your face was on fire, the moment his palm molded over your chest to reencounter the hold on your face, he lifted his head from you to peer into your eyes.

"You don't get kissed often, do you?" His voice deeper than what you were used to, your head could hardly shake in response to his words. So filled with life and lust, the man was creating butterflies in your stomach just from hovering above you. His scent is so strong in your nostrils, clean and refreshing. You finally allowed your eyes to close again when his hand met the trim of your shirt, raising the fabric to cover the skin in more kisses. "I find that charming." he laughed.

"I find you charming." The sentence that left your mouth was purely your mind on autopilot from the rush of sparks running through your every limb, his mouth stretching in a smile. A single second, you allowed your gaze to accompany him. His irises were glistening - not with just lust from the friction of your body against him, but the quick pace of his heart in his chest from the compliment.

"I'm not used to being told these things."

"You should be." Your words almost startled him, your hands gripping at the tight t-shirt on his torso as you tugged at him. He rose back upwards until he was aligned with your face again, the second call for your lips to kiss at his bringing a whisper from your mouth. "I'll be the one to say them from now on."

"I quite like that." The toothless smile that made your head fuzzy regained in your vision, his head tilting to match your lips as his hips grinded down into you. Not forceful, the weight of his body guided him down skillfully like he knew where to be, your body reacting accordingly by jerking up into him. "Ah~" his hiss was melted with the buildup of his face falling into the crook of your neck, your hands clamping around his shoulders in time to pick at his shirt.

Gunhak didn't have to ask, prying from your arms to pull the tight shirt off his body and into the floor beside the double bed. Your eyes found the ripples of his abs - the same ones you had clung to when the chase ensued - lifting your hand to scope out the size of the muscles. He took into account that you had felt them before, his cocked brow in your peripheral almost comedic when he gripped at your wrist and pulled your hand to meet his abdomen.

Your eyes felt like they could roll into the back of your head, mind counting each divot and taut muscle as he smirked down at you. So allured, his back arched to recount his position above you, your shirt going higher and higher as his hand traveled to meet your body. Nipples hard and just as solidified to his touch as the rest of you, your mouth fell open at the feeling of his lips attaching to one of the sensitive buds. So delicate, light sucks were given to the erect spot, his mouth matching the other one as muffled moans of his name fell from your lips. Syllables unintelligible, he continued to move his mouth down lower, index fingers tracing your skin until they were met with the waistband of your pants.

Diligently, his eyes paired with your own. The respect he held for you didn't abate his arousal or obedience to your comfort zone, your nod in his direction guiding the fabric off of your body. He didn't waste a moment before his mouth was attached to you, licking stripes in the form of patterns with your fingers gripping at his hair.

You couldn't hold in your noises, the vibrations of his mouth moaning your name while pressed against you leering you into one of the hardest orgasms you had ever had in your life. Sight white and hands scratching at his bare shoulders, his tongue pushed flat against you to lap at your juices, moans pornographic from the both of you. Finally pulling from your body to let you catch your breath, you watched the back of his hand move before his mouth, tongue taking the last of your orgasm from his lips before licking at the liquid.

His nose flared - the second time you had witnessed the sexy habit of his, except this time he wasn't livid. Face dipping to press a kiss to your cheek, your hands found his lower back. Your eyes clenched at the feeling of his hardened length below the thin fabric of his pants, gasping at the sensation that ruptured your sensitive crotch as he rutted against you. The dimples of his back fit your fingers as you traced the spots, his hands matching the waistband of his pants to glide them down.

Every subtle motion he created made you see stars, your lips finding the skin of his jawline to nibble with your teeth. He didn't hiss, a groan muffled by the tilt of his head to allow you the space to keep going - a distraction to keep himself from exploding. His cock was throbbing as his hand wrapped around the base, your head nuzzling against his neck when you felt him press against your entrance. Your body lubricated from his tongue and actions, he glided into you with ease, his forearms shaking. He felt heavy over you, your hand rushing to lift his chin to catch his attention.

"Was this your plan all along?" Your question mulled in his brain until he released a chuckle, filling you deep - almost to the brim as your words were nothing but a joke.

"Yeah, actually. I enjoy getting pretty people into bed, boosts the ego."

The taunting was halting as he bottomed out in you at the pull of his length and pushed in a second time. Your mouth fell open with only his name escaping your vocal cords, the ruffled sound of him gripping at the pillow below your head brought your hips to suck him inside of you deeper.

"I think you're doing a good job." Vague praise brought sparkles to his eyes, the same brow as before cocking as he pulled out and slammed into you.

"Am I? You're not whining yet. Not even screaming my name." Your head jolted back with his thrust, his cock coating your walls with sheer pleasure as his gut went tight. You could see him losing his grip, the floating feeling he once gave you growing in his own gaze.

Eyes squinted up at the man, your hand met his hips, pulling him to wrap your legs around his waist. So filled into you, captivated and pleasured - his head fell against your shoulder as he pumped small thrusts into you.

The whisper of your voice in his ear had his body not only relaxing his muscles, but his cock throbbing as you clenched down on him. Milking him of his orgasm, the man shivered, bare skin pricking with chills for the first time the entire night. You watched his cum leak from his tip as he pulled out of you, the sheets becoming absent-mindedly stained from your hand jerking him off until completion. "I don't need to scream to make you cum, Gunhak."

"Fuck-" The thick, white liquid left spots on your shirt as it spewed from his cock, his body falling forward until you were pinned between his light-coated, sweaty body and the mattress.

A light squeak of his name had his body lifted from you, spinning to lay on his back next to your form as your eyes went heavy. His body left you for a moment to retrieve a towel, cleaning you of the mess he made.

The strong-minded man you were admittedly falling in love with spared the heat of his body from you, all except his arm that masked over your stomach. Hardly held in his embrace, your mind began to drift into a slumber, the feeling of his fingers tracing your scalp through the strands of hair soothing you into a sleep in an instant.

"Sleep well, for once." He cooed quietly. "I'm here."

Tranquility in all directions of the room, your shut off mind awoke to his form pressing into the air. Your face didn’t have time to contort in confusion as your head turned to meet the sound at the door, Gunhak’s index finger pressing against his closed lips. A signal to stay silent, he pulled at your wrist to follow him up before he handed you your clothes. One limb at a time, your body reconnected with the once discarded fabric, his movements at an expeditious rate alarming you.

His ears were used to this, your bags lifted from the ground and over your shoulder. The lightest jingle of the keys moving into your fingers rang in the dark space, the click of the motel room’s door knob startling you. Gunhak was quick to push you in the direction of the bathroom, your body racing towards the window over the toilet in the same moment that the door came barreling open.

“Go!” Gunhak’s eyes went wide as he yelled, three of the four assassins that had been trailing you breaking into the room with him now in their sights. You shook as the pane of the window tilted open, his bike’s keys rocking against the frame as you tossed out the bags and made a leap out yourself.

You didn’t look back – you couldn’t, but the sounds of the fists pummeling into Gunhak was enough to have you shrieking. One harsh punch to the face, and he was on the ground – your eyes matching the blood on his head as you fell down the wall. Collecting the bags, your feet stomped against the cement pathway towards the parking lot. Gunhak’s bike sat untouched, the door of your room still open wide as you heard a loud cry come from within it.

Seconds after you darted for his bike, one of the assassins gripped a pen from the nightstand of the bedroom. Little effort was necessary to launch the staked item into Gunhak’s leg, the man that had once stood barreling back to the ground. Nothing like in defeat, his head lifted – making sure his eyes paired with each of the men.

“I can do what you want.” He gritted at them, eyes barely watered as he hissed at the sharp pain in his leg. Fist clenching around the blue-inked writing utensil, he pulled it from his thigh muscle. Wincing from the blood, he tossed the pen to the ground. “Just give me time.”

Strands clung to the back of his bike, you placed the bags under the ropes such as Gunhak had them, your main focus on putting the key into the ignition. The metal screw clicked into the bike, your fingers turning it and fists meeting the handles. A rush of air came towards your side, eyes illuminated in the hopes of finding Gunhak at your side again – but it was a larger man. His form was gaining on you, a rush of adrenaline in your veins as you pressed at the gas handle and sent yourself off.

You had watched Gunhak guide the bike attentively, even felt his muscles contract as he controlled the vehicle. With the help of your memory, you allowed the bike to guide you – riding in circles as the man attempted to keep up with you. Gunhak’s form left out of the motel room, stumbling down the steps in time to reach his bike. He looked disheveled, hair sweating down the strands and his skin as he panted to catch his breath. From the race of the man tailing his bike, you hardly had enough time to notice the hole through his jeans was leaking blood – your mind set on getting out of the lot.

But the man was too close to give you time to swap places, Gunhak’s injured leg swung over the running motor as he held onto your waist. Your eyes pleaded that he not go through with this, tongue almost unable to form words. “I hardly know how to drive one of these things!” You called out over the roar of the engine, his eyes clamping as he shook his head.

“Just get us out of here! You’ll figure it out.” He gritted, eyes pulling back at their cold glare in order to give you the confidence you needed to step on it. His actions were the right ones, your fingers gripping at the handles just as he had in a moment of danger. Mind on pure auto-pilot, you let the star above guide you from danger, Gunhak’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist causing you to focus.

Your hands worked accordingly, rushing the vehicle out of the parking lot and too far from the assassin on his feet. Parting in a bolt, the darkened night all around was instructing you in the direction you were meant to be in, Gunhak’s form clinging to you as the wind whipped past. Grip tight but balance unsteady, his arms layered over your own to grasp over your hands, his own arms guiding you in the direction you were going. No helmets, no belt, you were nearly out of your mind driving the bike of a man you had only met hours prior – but as his arms tightened around you and his head laid on your shoulder, you couldn’t find yourself to care.

This was what he had gone on about. The rush of running from danger and being within it all at the same time, the freedom of his bike and the long roads ahead dark or lit – but he never mentioned the hold of someone.

The engine of the bike slowed in your grasp as you turned into a dark alleyway. Your heart beating out of your chest, all that was in your ears was Gunhak’s laughter. Your head tilted to see him in your peripheral, the wide grin on your face making your blood boil until your own body laughed.

“What?” You questioned, shaking your head at him. “What’s so funny?”

“You make a good get away driver.” His teeth broke through his lips in a Cheshire grin, his eyes rising with his smile and chest puffing with his cackle.

Your laughter fell when you rose from the bike, sight of the hole in his jeans frightening as you crouched down towards his thigh. Prying the helmet from your head, he lifted the shield on his own to give you his full attention, breathing in the cold air with tight breaths.

“It’s hardly even a puncture.” His head shook as you gave him an uneasy glare, his hand running over the spot as he winced. “Not that bad.”

“Not that bad? Your poor leg has a hole in it.” Your voice was cold towards his careless tone. His arms reached backwards to undo the zipper of his bag, another one of his tight shirts pulled from the black carrier. The fabric was placed between his teeth, a clean rip and tear giving him a long piece to wrap around his thigh. You were apprehensive at his actions, the feeling that he’s done this a few times way too noticeable. The curve in the apples of his cheeks made heat gather in your face, a single wink of his eye making you roll your own.

His head tilted up towards the sky, the shining stars above dictated by the brightness of the star that had guided you down the road. “So, what now, boss?” He was toying with you, mind elsewhere until his eyes found your face again. “What’s the next move?”

“I need to take care of this once and for all.” Your voice was small but confidence large, the rise of his lips bringing a deep cackle to bounce around in his chest. “My team made a mistake for throwing me out. We’re not too far from the base now.”

“I say we pay your boss a visit.” Gunhak’s face was bright with colors under the gleaming stars, the signs of the businesses and shops along the road lighting up his face even in the dark alleyway. 

Gunhak’s gaze was deeply staring into your own as a passing engine roared. One of the large cars from before sped past the alleyway, your form leaping against the bike and into his arms. His hold was so instinctively wrapped around you – just as it had been – but it changed. A sparkle in his eyes when you pulled from his chest to peer down at him, his lips didn’t have a moment to react before you lifted his helmet and collided them together in a chaste kiss.

“Does danger turn you on, y/n?” Slick, Gunhak’s arms pulled you back towards the bike the moment you moved away, your form clambering on the back as he started the motor up again. Your helmet went over your head within a second as you heard his shield click back down, your hiss into the headset within the hood making him laugh.

“You kinky bastard.” You hissed in his ears, arms back around his abdomen as he started off. The same sensation of butterflies regathered in your stomach at the feeling of his abs, his smirk gone unnoticed as he let the bike run and the two of you rush off towards the road once more.

The air was more of a shriek as the wind picked up, the leather jacket bound around your body and the shield on your face protecting you from all things headed your way – all except Gunhak, himself. He had pried his way into your situation so effortlessly that it almost made you laugh, but at the same time – it pained you to know he cared so much. An innocent person on a trip doing who-knows-what finding another troubled person in their path – the man had a knack for woe with a plastic shield over his face.

The main road was still just as lit as before, the sidewalk you once ran down to escape the same man driving the vehicle you now rode on the back of taking the breath from your lungs. Harrowed irony, the block of the sidewalk brought a smile to your face as you cradled his form tighter, warmed by his trilled laugh in your ears. Orange light after yellow, it was as if the road was turning skinnier, two black masses on either side of the motorcycle capturing your attention from the sentimental place.

All things circle around, and if they didn’t – you’d never have anything to learn from. Or in your case, run from – the two black cars approaching you getting closer than what could ever comfort you. The phrase was cut short even in your own mind, the scraping of the painted cars on either side of Gunhak’s bike exploiting a squeal from you.

How the two cars of assassins had managed to recuperate and configure your movements, you’d never know. But as they trailed you too close and bashed into your riding forms a second time, you felt the heat of your body rise and your mind let go.

There are so few moments in life that push adrenaline through a human’s veins: stepping out in front of traffic on accident, missing a step, almost drinking or eating something too hot – all because you weren’t paying attention. So what are the moments where your full attention was on the circumstance, and yet you still managed to have a close call with death called? Fate.

The brush of the heavy cars at your sides held you closer to Gunhak, his loud cries of pain as his injured leg was bolted to the bike making you wince. His calls out to you saying it would all be okay were only muffled words to you, his hand closing in on the clutch to run the bike forward not enough to escape the death grip the cars had on you. You could feel the energy of the men inside of the vehicles, see their smiles through the windows – but you all but feared them.

There are three types of people in the world – that of which you are sure of in life. The Sleepers: those who allow others to do all their dirty deeds for them. The Wakers: those that recount all that life can throw at you until you finally awaken and see the light. And the worse of the worst, the Dealers: those sentenced to make anyone and everyone’s lives a living hell for the sake of their own tolls. Things they’ve done that they can never repay or regain, their only purpose now to take and take.

The Dealers, in your case, were the assassins. Assigned to kill you off, pull and throw you back with your mouth on the same hook – they forgot the most important part. The Wakers know their weaknesses, and they are fighters who are a hell of a lot more prone to getting what they want over what they need. 

The wedged space between the two cars was hardly a break to make any moves, Gunhak’s fingers so tight around the handles that his knuckles were white. They requested a battle, but he answered with a rebuttal. High speed down the road gave a kick to their vehicles, only half a second for gameplay as the bike was removed from between them. Gravity had its causes for bringing things down to the ground, and just as their wheels were connected with the sides of the bike, the two cars collided with one another when the barrier between them escaped.

Flashing lights not at all sirens or medical transportation, it was the cars spinning on the roads. A game of chicken you never signed up for – a death wish written by the man controlling the bike. “What are the odds that these guys are just as bad as your boss?” Gunhak asked over the microphones within the helmets, your choking voice hardly a reply.

“You can’t play a puppet without using your hands.”

The analogy was enough to have him nodding, the pull of his fist around the handles sending the bike back towards the two cars. Now head to head, the blinding lights made you clamp to Gunhak like he was your life source, the two cars speeding in your direction enough to make your heart stop beating in your chest. Tempo faster than electricity through a wire, the silence of your body allowed you to hear the man who had single-handedly taken and caressed the organ in a short amount of time.

“I swear, if you let go and I never get the chance to tell you how hard I’m falling for you!”

Your blood boiled, teeth gritted and voice high-pitched. “Not the time, Gunhak!”

Inch by inch turned even thinner as you neared the lights of the heads of the cars, Gunhak’s body not shivering a single bit. You could feel him take in a breath, every motion and atom surrounding you turning the situation into a movie scene. Gunhak’s words were specific to his silent plan, the tilting of his body dragging his foot against the ground as he pulled at the clutch and allowed the bike to swivel bringing your soul back to its carcass.

The skillful man has spun the template into a new pattern, a new form, and you were now ahead. Unlike the chases you had experienced within the same night, the cars chasing after you didn’t feel like you were their prey – but their ally.

Keeping their distance, Gunhak’s eyes would meet the vehicles every so often, the large building of the corporation coming up sooner than you had expected. He was in over your head, just as you, and by the very second you pulled up the driveway of the same building you had spun away from with your team just as the sun was setting – something clicked.

Even with your team at your sides, it didn’t feel the same as Gunhak lifting his form from the body. They never offered you their hand, pulled a helmet off your head, or even sent death glares towards those trying to kill you. The double cars of those trying to hurt you leaped out in a quick pace, Gunhak’s eyes blazing in their direction as they all halted on sight.

“W-What do I do, Gunhak?”

The temptation to keep moving brought your arms to swing around him, his hands at your shoulders leering you backwards. Head in the game, heart next to his – a nod of his head guided you in the direction you had wanted to go for years.

“You take care of your business now, baby.” His lips pressed into your temple so delicately. “I’m right here.”

The same halls you had walked down many times – sometimes bleeding, crying, wailing, but now they were only memories. The fixation of a Sleeper in command had consequences, the man almost cowering the moment your form pressed through his door. He couldn’t form words to back you down, to lighten your gaze – he knew he had gone too far, and that this was the end.

“Why did you do it? Why go to this extent?”

He shook too much to respond, the man that had oftentimes sent you out on a mission like a starving, rabid dog now as pale as a ghost at the sight of your poise. You had lost so much to him - to the lifestyle of following another’s orders - that you had even been blinded by what was right in front of you. No battle is truly fought alone, and as one of the assassins broke from Gunhak’s fight – the elapsed sound of more fists pummeling into the man brought a wretched expression across your face – someone finally had the upper-hand, but it wasn’t you.

How many times do you have to see a face to have it etched into your mind? Once – maybe a hundred? You never even recognized the same partner to the boss being lowered from his position and sent out to do the deeds you left blank. You never took notice of the pain in his own partner’s eyes – and up until the gun was lifted at your head, you never knew the true meaning of love. The feeling of just wanting Gunhak’s arms around you before the bullet flew through your skull was thick enough to have you quivering. The man’s eyes were dull as the gun clicked, his wrist popping as the limb snapped in a separate direction from your form. Missing you by almost a centimeter, justice had been served – your boss was dead.

“I-I don’t understand.” Your head shook back and forth in dismay, the assassin's gaze following the floor to the door. Even evil can’t bear to witness some sights, that is how you know how cruel the world can be.

You left out of the building with chills across your skin and a single word on your tongue. Gunhak — a word you could repeat again and again, a name you couldn’t fathom being the same man stood before you completely unharmed the moment you made it out the door.

A Waker in his prime, completely neutral, Gunhak had long found his place in the world. “Y-You?”

“Me.” He nodded, lips forming a thin line until a pout overtook his mouth. A two-timed man in love, what a coincidence.

“Your mistake was my gain. I thought I had lost you at one point, but you were right below the brightest star in the sky.” He was speaking in riddles. Although you knew it was a setup, that he had been employed with getting to you first, every ounce of your body still wanted to run into his arms. “Do you still trust me?”

“Explain all of this to me, Gunhak.” You barked gently. A woof of the smallest dog with the bite of the biggest – he knew better than to shade over his identity any longer.

“I was hired by your boss to find you before they did.” He claimed, pointing towards the three assassins – the fourth still within the walls of the building. “Like I said, coincidence. I lost you when you disappeared from your team’s car, but found you when I noticed your identification was in the middle of the road.”

“Lucky me – my killer found my ID instead of a normal person.” You hissed. “What the hell was all of this, a game?”

“When I am hired for these jobs, no one tells me the details. They tell me who to take care of, and they send me on my way.” His eyes never let the sparkles go, the tone in his voice sounding genuine. “I never know how bad things are until I hear them for myself. You told me at the motel about how horrible your boss was, and it clicked.”

“What clicked?”

“That I was about to get my ass kicked by the same guys after you because they don’t know why I am here, either.” His words were layered, lips moving frantically to explain it all to you. Even without him speaking it directly, you could see the pain in his face – you knew he hated seeing you frustrated with him. “y/n, I got away from those guys because I told them I was on their side. Not to kill you, but I saw what was in you in them.”

“Where the problem lied.”

“Your boss has taken more lives than I ever will, and he was only serviced by your team for the last few years. I’ve been riding on my bike being hired by strangers since I was in high school. You don’t mess around with all of this, but the emotions are so much worse. They wanted him dead more than you and I combined.”

“And it’s over.” You nodded, staring down at the paved driveway as you kicked at a lone rock. The Waker had found you – a Sleeper – and awoken you. Protecting the Dealers from a terrible fate, he had been in three places at once – and you only knew him to be a stranger that wanted to help.

“Everything you’ve said-“ Tears pricked your ducts, threatening to pour from your eyes from the lightest blow of wind as Gunhak rocked on his heels in front of you. “-you meant, right?”

“I don’t know about you-“ His lips rose into a smile, body taking a step forward to close the gap between the two of you.”-but I’ve never attempted to say ‘I love you’ to another human being while racing head first into two cars.”

His hand cupped your cheek to pull you into him, lips pressing so hard against one another that the skin burned. Teeth almost against teeth, you heard the chatter of the other men as they broke from the two of you, disappearing into the building to go to the missing man. Finally giving you peace, you had what you had been hoping in your arms – Gunhak holding onto you so tight like he was convinced you’d leave him. Seeing a man that held his fist up for you - that fought by your side while meant to be on the opposite - react so intensely, you couldn’t hold your emotions in any longer.

“I care about you too much.” He whispered.

The tears broke from your eyes, hot streaks running down your face as he pulled from your lips. The same gentle touch he held from the beginning, you knew he was never a threat by the way the pad of his thumb brushed away the tears only to let the liquid sink into his own skin. The motion done through the kiss, you pulled back to catch your breath. Eyes clenched shut, you felt his paced breaths begin to relax your muscles, your face in his chest listening to the quick thumps of his heart. Nothing had changed between the two of you despite the quarrel and different positions – Gunhak was still the same man that offered you a ride to somewhere safe, the same one who took you with passion and fire in his loins and soft kisses pressed to your lips, the same one that held you in his arms like you would escape in a mist.

Bestowed by the situation, you had to give credit where credit was due. Not every person on Earth would travel to replenish concord to the world, but that was just what Gunhak’s journey was about. Routed in every direction at once, fate had brought him to cross paths with someone he was meant to kill – but he found love and resentment in that same person. Like a fairytale, the knight had replenished a commoner to see the bigger picture, his chin resting against your head as you breathed him in.

“Hey y/n?”

“Yes, Gunhak?”

“I’m still on my road trip.” He grinned, face meeting yours as the tips of your noses collided. A gentle moment of skin on skin, you brought your cheek to his cheek to express that you knew where you were in the moment.

Alone on his journey, he, too, had never experienced this moment. No one had matched his tale enough to connect with him like you, the sparkle in his eyes like a memory in your mind you couldn’t put your finger on. The accuracy of the glow, the joy of the flicker, the lights that united the spot to be the leader.

“Yes.”

“And there’s room on the back of my bike for a passenger.”

Your eyes left his face for a moment in thought, the bike receiving hardly a glance. Eyes drilling to the sky, the gleaming, deep blue color was fading into a light purple as dawn awakened. Memory of hobbling down the road with your bags barely grasped on your back floated into your mind, the vague image of what had guided you giving you a moment of true tranquility. The star in the sky was the same shape of the sparkle in Gunhak’s eyes – it wasn’t the star that had guided you, but him. The world has a way of filling in the blanks, leading you to nowhere and everywhere at the same time, and as you peered back towards the man’s face — his lips formed words you couldn’t hear over the sound of your heartbeats syncing.

“What happened to you enjoying being alone?” You asked with a light laugh, his shoulders shrugging with a hefty chuckle from his chest.

He smiled, the sparkle in his eyes so bright that it was as if the star was only meant to be in his gaze and nowhere else. “Life’s no fun without a partner in crime.”

oneus m.list | navi.

[sunshinesukuna]

skater chivalry is not dead!

🛹  pairing: bokuto koutaro x reader

🛹  wc: 1.3k 

🛹  summary: knights in shining armor? nah, more like skaters in checkered vans.

🛹  warnings: none

🛹  a/n: uwuuuu gotten back to writing! hope y’all like it! the top gun au is coming soon btw! <3

The rays of the sun start to make sweet love to the horizon below. Most of the younger kids have already gone home, in fear of lost suppers and angry mothers. Wheels still skid along the railings, the riders groaning occasionally at the failure of a new trick they had been trying to perfect.

He’s one of them. Sporting kneepads, a backwards snapback and a skateboard decorated with an owl with two full moons for eyes, he braces himself again as the railing approaches. The wind whistles through the shock of grey hair he dyed himself, accompanied by a loud “Hey, hey, hey!” as a signal of one of his new victories. 

You’re over by a ledge, a box of apple juice in your hands courtesy of one of the seven year olds that liked to come by. The kid gave it to you as payment for fixing up a scrape they had gotten from a failed rail stand. The last quarter of the juice resonated lonesomely in the bottle the rest having found a new home down Bokuto’s throat. You would have given the whole bottle to him, but he argued that you should take some for yourself, even though the only lick of juice you had gotten so far was one from a stolen kiss as he sped by the ledge you were sitting on.

“Come on (Y/N), just this once!” he cries from the ramp below. His head dips down as he does a trick in the middle of the bowl, the sound of the skateboard meeting the concrete ringing loud and clear. It’s one of his more flashy tricks, one that he shows the new kids around when they try to look for someone to follow.

“Bokuto Koutaro, how many times have I told you? I’ve never ridden a skateboard before and I don’t want to.”

It’s not like you despise the art of skateboarding. It’s just that you’ve tried it before, and some unsavory things happened that you would not like to repeat again if possible. Bokuto can’t understand why, after all, he’s there to teach you! If he can teach eight-year old kids how to do a kickturn, then surely he can teach you how to get on a skateboard?

“There’s nothing to be worried ‘bout, (Y/N)! Come on down!”

“Bokuto!” you cry back.

“(Y/N)!” he shoots in mockery of your pleading voice. Bokuto skates back so he’s just under the ledge you’re sitting on. He’s the perfect height to rest his arms and head on the ledge between your legs, which he does so like a primal instinct. You can only giggle and nuzzle his head in between your arms and head. His spiky hair tickles your skin as you bury your face into it.

“Bokuto!” you say.

“(Y/N)!”

“Bokuto!”

“Bokuto!” Bokuto says. The man in question clamps a hand over his mouth at his sudden slip-up. You can’t help but fall back onto your forearms, laughing at your boyfriend. Bokuto turns beet red— you can already see the steam escaping from his ears as he nags at you to stop laughing animatedly.

You do, although the pain in your ribs from laughing still has you doubled over. Bokuto’s pulled himself up to the ledge you’re sitting on, his skateboard propped up beside him. The owl that’s painted on it glares at the two of you, like a mother hen watching over her chicks.

“You know the reason why I don’t want to, Kou,” you murmur.

“There’s no one around, (Y/N). Don’t worry, I’m not going to judge you!” You give him an apologetic smile. You really wished you were as good as the others too, really. Konoha’s and Akaashi’s significant others were no joke on a skateboard, enough to ruffle Bokuto’s feathers in jealousy sometime. He really wanted you to be on par with them, but it wasn’t like he didn’t recognize your other talents.

“Maybe if you carry me down I might join you?” you mumble. Bokuto’s looking off to the horizon, where half of the sun is just starting to set. You were hoping that the comment would pass by on deaf ears, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, he cranes his neck to look at you in surprise.

“Is that a promise?” he asks.

“May— Oof! Kou!” You’re about to shrug, until you feel the presence of a large hand under your thighs. All too suddenly, the concrete where you sat down, is replaced by his arms, carrying you through the park. You grab onto his shirt to search for something to hold on. From where he’s holding you, you can see the contrast between the shock of black and white hair and the sky that’s orange going on red, to purple, to black.

It’s cliche, but there are no other words to describe it. His eyes glow against the now dark sky when he looks at you, like stars against the sky devoid of a moon. You glide along in his arms as he maneuvers the skateboard deftly, even with a whole other human in his arms. Prince Charming much?

You’re still holding onto his shirt like it’s a lifeline, because you don’t even notice the words that spill out of his mouth. In your defense, his eyes are much too distracting and he should close them for the world (except you) to unsee.

“Hey,” he rasps, probably drained from all that shouting earlier. It grates along your ears in the same way a child playing a violin would. Endearing. “I got you.”

Your knees bend softly at the sudden weight as Bokuto sets you down. “Do you want to do it?” he asks. You take a deep breath, mustering all the courage you have.  

“I’ll need to start slow.” You expect him to deflate like he usually does. He is, after all, one to take things fast.

“Slow is good enough for me!” he says. You look up at him. Bokuto wears an approving smile, one that basically lassoes you to him, up onto the skateboard where he stands. “Hop on.”

“Aren’t you going to get off?”

“I know what I’m doing, (Y/N)

You step on gingerly in the space where his feet are. There’s not much space, most of it occupied by the large expanse that is his chest and torso, but you make do by wrapping your arms around them.

“We’re starting off slow…” Bokuto warns. You brace yourself around him. Behind you, you hear his feet kick off the ground to get the skateboard moving. The sudden movement has the skateboard lurching forward, but you’re braced safely in his arms.

Bokuto kicks off more, the skateboard slowly gaining more speed. More wind picks up between your hair, and the stars become muddled drops of white paint against the black canvas of the night. Look no further up into his eyes, and you find large bright orbs that can contest the moon in luminescence.

The skateboard leans to your side, and you realize that both of your boyfriend’s feet have left the ground. The skateboard teeters and totters until you realize that it’s becoming unsteady. There’s a horrible sensation in your stomach as you realize the skateboard is becoming more and more top heavy on your side.

You feel your back suddenly snap back. The fastest you can react is just to close your eyes so at least you won’t have to see the impact. But he’s faster than you.

With a sudden swoop, you’re back upright, chests touching one another as the skateboard slows down. Bokuto maneuvers his knees so the skateboard gains more speed. His arms hold you around him tighter than before.

“Sorry about that,” he mutters into your ear.

You don’t know when the tide finally recedes. It’s like being eased slowly, but surely into cold water. First it’s jarring, like a sudden snap to the senses. But then your body slowly eases into the shock of the cold water, as it does to the gentle rocking of the skateboard. Your center of gravity moves much more freely, and you finally loosen your grip on the man in front of you.

You definitely won’t fall. After all, he’s right there beside you.

taglist: @kitashxnsuke​​ @shiningstar-byulxx​​ @differentballooncollection​

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part 11) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Ash Miller, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±6400 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part 11: The company of wranglers sets up camp for the night. After spending the evening sharing stories and music around the fire, Dean has another shot to win Y/N over. Will he take it? Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: The Weight - Jason Manns & the cast, Desire - Ryan Adams, Ada Plays - Gabriel Yared (final scene). Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettishfor helping me. You girls are awesome betas. Thank you for your endless patience! Author’s note 2: In a paragraph of this chapter, Apache Indians are mentioned. This does not reflect my (or my beta’s) opinion on them.

Ride With Me Masterlist

    It takes the six riders another seven hours to reach Willow Spring. The rough terrain forces them to move cautiously, especially since some members of the fellowship have little experience with these kinds of circumstances. Another reason for the slow time could very well be that Y/N halts every once every so often, simply gaping at the amazing panorama. The views are absolutely breathtaking, the young woman from Freeport has never seen anything like it.      Drops that would give fear of heights a new definition, wide-open spaces that make her feel so small in this incredible world. Old volcanic remnants emerged from the depths of the earth more than a hundred thousand years ago and still stand tall today. African daisies and brittlebush decorate the grounds for miles, blossoming after last month’s rain. Copper-colored mountains surround them for as far as the eye can see, separated from each other by deep canyons. The epic proportions of the Superstition Mountains are difficult to grasp. It’s quite liberating, to move through an area so remote and untouched, with a horse the only possible type of transportation. She feels like an explorer, a conqueror from the old times. No car could take her here, not even a tank or a helicopter would be able to get Y/N over these boulders and through the narrow canyons. Only Joplin can. 

    The cowgirl rests her wrist on the horn of the saddle, the reins loosely in between the fingers of her left hand. Joplin still speedwalks under her rider, who stopped attempting to slow her down hours ago. Apparently, the dark mare does not wish to adapt her speed, even though she asked nicely a couple of times. Of course, Y/N could have made her point, but the argument that would probably carry on for days is not worth it. Where the little horse gets the energy to keep this up, she has no idea, but Y/N is glad she’s a forward-thinker. Dragging a horse up this God-forsaken mountain wouldn’t actually be a pleasure either.

    Dean reaches the final hill first, looking down at the small stream that gurgles and splashes through the worn stone several hundred feet below. A lone willow tree grows on the bank, surrounded by cattails, marking the year-round water source. It’s a heavenly sight, because the horses are thirsty, and finding Willow Spring means that today’s time in the saddle is over. Make no mistake, he loves to ride, but after ten or so hours in the saddle, his ass is starting to get sore.     “We’ll set up camp here,” he decides, glancing over his shoulder at the others before he gives Ted the aid to descend the steep slope.    

    Dropped back on his hocks with his hooves out in front of him, the gelding makes his way down the hillside, trying to find the easiest path as he snakes down the mountain. Dean sits back, maintaining the balance as he lets his horse figure it out. When Ted reaches even ground again, Dean gives his companion space to drop his head completely. Alert, Ted drags his feet through the cold water, his lips on the surface of the crystal clear spring as he starts to drink, rhythmic gulps moving up his throat every time he swallows. Gently, the wrangler rustles his fingers through the bay’s mane, then he swings his right leg over the back of the saddle and lowers himself into the shallow spring. The water is pleasantly cold after a long day out in the desert and he can almost feel it sizzle when he splashes the water in his face and on the back of his neck. He rarely gets a sunburn anymore, but his skin feels tense and dry today. As the droplets run down his chin and neck, he puts his cowboy hat back on and rises up to find Y/N next to him, copying his actions. While Joplin gulps down at least a gallon, the female rider cups her hands to capture the refreshing water and wash her face clean, after which she lets the air flow from her lips in delight.

    “Long ride, huh?” Dean sighs.     “Sleeping is not going to be a problem, not even if I have to spend the night on a rock,” she admits.     “We’ll rest up here, Benny will get dinner going soon,” he assures her.       “Better be good, Benny,” she warns as she leads Joplin away from the riverbed, trading places with the Southerner. “I’m starving.”     “The things I can do with canned food above a fireplace, darlin’. Those Michelin star joints can kiss my fine behind,” he returns, a bright smile and even brighter eyes adorning his face.

    Dean grins at the claim and walks with Ted to follow Joplin. All fun aside, they cannot sit down and kick their feet up just yet. They have a camp to build.     “Brad, Jon, you can set up camp on that plateau up the hill. Benny and I will take care of the horses. Y/N and Macy? Can find us some firewood?” He looks in the intern’s direction and she nods in confirmation. He takes over the reins of her horse so that she can get to the task at hand.     “Watch out for snakes,” he presses.     “I know. And kick over the wood before you pick it up,” she adds before her supervisor does.     “Jo already gave you the lecture, huh?” Dean assumes, grinning.     “And Ellen, and Bobby.” She giggles, looking over her shoulder as she joins Macy to find some dry wood.

    The women hit the jackpot after searching the dry terrain a little higher up the stream. What once was a sheep shed is now a heap of wood and nails, nothing left standing but one corner strut. With the rotten planks stacked up in her arms, Y/N and Macy return to camp on the plateau, about a hundred feet from Willow Spring. Two out of the three tents are set up and ready to be inhabited, while the horses are tacked down and resting. Dean and Benny created a small paddock with rope, using two large boulders and a large cactus as anchor points.     Within half an hour there’s a fire going and soup is bubbling in a pot above the flames. The sun is setting fast, still reflecting its orange rays on the few clouds above, drawing shadows larger than the mountains that create them. Tired from the long day, the six riders sit around their improvised stove, easy conversation and joyful laughs rising up from the valley. It doesn’t take long before the night darkens the sky, the stars and the moon shining bright. Suddenly the desert that seemed enormous and wide-open during the day, feels cozy. Almost as if the company of six are in a room as big as the light of the fire can reach. The soup, rich with meatballs and vegetables, together with the bread Ellen baked this morning, fills their stomachs. Y/N stretches her legs out in front of her, crossing them at her ankles while she sits down on a boulder, stretching her back to fight the dull ache.

    “Who wants a beer?”     The intern looks up surprised while Benny gets up and looks from one to the other.     “We’ve got beer?” Brad, apparently as astonished as she is, wonders.     Benny shows his set of pearly whites and descends down the hill towards the cold spring.     “Even better,” he corrects, as he pulls the six-pack from between four stones, the cold water dripping from the bottles. “We’ve got cold  beer.”     The wranglers cheer as the Southerner makes his way up the slope again, after which he rummages in one of the saddlebags, probably to find an opener. Casually Y/N glances over, but then she furrows her brow as something catches her eye before Benny closes the straps again. Was that the handle of a pistol she spotted? The gears in her head start turning. Why would they bring a gun on a trail ride? Y/N isn’t a stranger to guns. Her brothers and father have a hunting cabin up north at White Mountain and her oldest sibling, Jake, is a police officer in Los Angeles. At home, she knows where they keep the guns, and in case of an emergency, she knows how to use them. Still, she wonders; why bring one here into the desert, miles from a living soul? Wild animals, maybe?

    “Here ya go, darlin’.”     Benny hands Y/N a bottle of Corona, which she takes gladly. Then he hops up on the large rock the intern is leaning against. Dean walks around the fire after pushing in a new log, then settles down on a small boulder on the other side of her. He props up one leg, the other stretched in front of him, resting his wrist on his knee while he begins to play with the silver band on his ring finger.     “Cheers, y’all,” he says, raising his bottle.     The others respond with a mutual ‘cheers’ and he takes a swig of the welcome refreshment. Y/N does the same, but can’t help to glance at the saddlebag again. Eventually, curiosity gets the best of her and she leans into Dean.     “Can I ask you something?”     He looks aside, attracted by her whisper, a little bit nervous all of a sudden now that she’s so close to him. Apparently, whatever she is going to require from him is not suitable for the tourists to hear.     “Shoot,” he replies.     “Why do you guys carry a gun with you?” Y/N wonders with a soft voice.     Dean cocks his eyebrow and can’t help but to lift up the corner of his mouth a little. Someone is being observant. He huffs before he answers, but Benny, who apparently was eavesdropping, beats him to it.     “Seems like we’ve got a detective amongst us, Chief,” the Southerner comments.     A little embarrassed, Y/N stammers as she looks up at him and back at Dean, his slightly amused and soft smile taking away some of her insecurities. “I - I didn’t mean to sniff around,” she half apologizes, but Dean brushes it off.     “It’s fine,” he assures, then checks on the other three to make sure they aren’t listening in. The tourists are entwined in a conversation of their own, however. “And that gun is a safety precaution.”     “For what?” she asks, not settling for an answer that vague.

    Dean glances at his friend, shielding his face from her for a second. It seems like he is discussing silently if he should share this matter with the intern, but in fact, he’s telling Benny something completely different. The slight nudge of his eyebrow and the suppressed little smile says one thing only: play along.     “We’re not the only ones out here, darlin’. Apache Indians still roam these mountains,” the farrier from the South elaborates.     Y/N’s eyes widen, as her gaze darts from Benny to Dean, but both keep a straight face. They aren’t serious, right?     “Apache Indians?” she repeats, a little skeptical.     Dean nods, carrying a blank expression and she could swear they are telling God’s honest truth.     “Yep. You better watch out for the natives. Us white folks came here and stole their land long ago in a brutal manner,” Benny adds, taking a sip of his beer to prevent himself from breaking character. “You’re a smart Belle, you can guess what they’d wanna do to us, might we cross paths with them, out here in No Man’s Land.”    Stunned, Y/N stares at him. It sounds hideous, but the way he delivers the story is disturbingly convincing. Plus, she looked into the history of the true Native Americans for a project back when she was a sophomore and remembers that there used to be a large colony at Apache Junction, not far from here. She didn’t realize that besides dangerous five hundred feet drops, unbearable heat, venomous spiders, snakes and scorpions, there is more to fear out here in these wastelands. But then she notices how Dean presses his lips together, so tight that his jaw clenches for just a second as he fights a laugh. On to them, Y/N tilts her head and throws the two boys a glare, causing them to crack.     “Idiots,” she mutters as they laugh loudly.     Sniggering, the friends toast their beer bottles, celebrating their successful prank. Sometimes Y/N wishes she wasn’t the easily fooled city girl.     “All jokes aside,” Dean recovers, his tone serious again. “We always bring that gun on trails in case a horse injures itself lethally. We’re miles out from the road, let alone a veterinarian, so if it would ever come to a worst-case scenario, at least we can put the horse out of its misery.”     Y/N didn’t expect that answer and is silenced by the reason for the weapon. She only now realizes how far from civilization they are. Slippery slopes and narrow paths over high ridges are a recipe for accidents, but that a misstep could have such consequences somehow didn’t dawn on her until now. When things go south out here, they are truly on their own.

    “Did you ever have to use it?” she wonders.     Dean shakes his head gladly. “No, but Bobby did once,” he tells her. “That’s why he insists on us bringing the Colt every time we go out.”     “The Colt?” the intern responds. “The gun has a name?”     “It’s not just some gun. It was specially made for a hunter on horseback at the beginning of the 19th century. It has been in the family for a long time,” Dean explains as he takes another swig from his bottle.     “Well, I hope you will never have to fire that gun,” Y/N says solemnly.     He looks at her and agrees to that statement with a small nod, because he surely hopes he doesn’t have to either.     “How about some tunes, Chief?” Benny suggests.     The night is still young and he is looking for ways to fill the evening; musical entertainment will do just that. Dean throws him a displeased look, though, but his friend already pulled his harmonica from the chest pocket of his jacket. He holds the instrument in front of his mouth with one hand and partly covers the exhale holes to give the extra effect as he blows on it, playing a little riff that captures the attention of the others. Dean sighs; there's no way out of it now.     “What are you gonna sing?” Y/N asks the handsome man next to her.     The giddiness in her voice melts away Dean’s discomfort for being put in the limelight by Benny once again. He remembers her first day on the job when he sang a couple of songs. Her beautiful eyes sparkle just as bright as they did that night and he smiles.     “How about a duet?” he suggests.     She snorts, almost choking on her beer. “What? With me ?! God, no. Clearly, you’ve never heard my singing voice.”     “I have, actually,” he begs to differ. “You hum quite a lot when you’re working. And I heard you sing ‘American Pie’ the other day when you were cleaning tack.”     “Were you spying on me?” Y/N eyes him, jumping subjects to get out of a potentially embarrassing situation.     He averts his gaze, a nervous chuckle under his breath. His eyes have lingered on the new wrangler apprentice more than once. There is no denying that.     “I wouldn’t call it spying,” he corrects shyly.     “What would you call it then?”     She pulls up her legs and folds her arms around them, resting her cheek on the flat surface of her knee as she studies him. It amuses her how flustered he gets whenever she catches him taking an interest. He can be so cocky at times, so full of it, but when she corners him only slightly, he seems self-conscious all of a sudden. Now is no different, but he gathers enough courage to look back at her again.     “I’d call it admiring.”

    Dean holds her gaze for a few seconds after he speaks, fire dancing in his beautiful eyes that seem to have a shade of amber now that the flames reflect in them. Unable to look away, Y/N’s cheeky grin tones down into a small smile, the words warming her more than the desert ever could.     “C’mon, brother. This audience ain’t gonna wait all night.” Benny pauses his harmonica solo to rush the head wrangler, missing the conversation that was going on between the two.     “I’ll handle the main vocals. Will you back me up?” Dean asks the cowgirl, not letting his pal interrupt the moment.     “I-I don’t even know what you’re gonna sing,” she returns nervously.     “You’re into classics; you’ll know this song,” he assures, winking at her before he turns to Benny and mouths the title of the track.     Benny nods his head and then starts the melody to ‘The Weight.’ Dean looks over at Y/N as he taps his foot to the rhythm, waiting for her to identify the track just by the cords that Benny plays. Then her face lights up and he grins, knowing that she’s got it now.     “I pulled into Nazareth, was feeling ‘bout half past dead.     I just need some place where I can lay my head.     Hey mister, can you tell me where a man can find a bed?     He just grinned and shook my hand. “No” was all he said.”

    Nervous for her debut as a background singer and yet delighted by his warm voice, Y/N waits for her cue. She has never sung for other people before. In her own head, it sounds quite alright when she joins in with the vocalists of her favorite songs, either while mucking out or under the shower. But to claim she can sing? Absolutely not. God, you’re gonna make a fool of yourself. Are you truly so desperate to get his approval that you signed up for this? Then Dean nudges her softly, calm eyes telling her that she’s going to be fine.

    “Take a load off Fanny. Take a load for free.     Take a load off Fanny…”

    “- and you put the load right on me.”

    Y/N joins him on the last line, hitting a higher note simultaneously with Dean, creating a vocal harmony. The cowboy smiles widely at her, impressed with her voice. Relieved, she beams when Jonathan whistles and Macy and Jon cheer. Maybe she doesn’t sound so bad after all.

    “I picked up my bags, I went looking for a place to hide.     When I saw old Carmen and the Devil, walkin’ side by side.     I said, ‘Hey Carmen! C’mon, let’s go downtown.’     She said, “I gotta go, but my friend can stick around.     Take a load off Fanny, take a load for free.     Take a load off Fanny, and you put the load right on me.”

    They sing the chorus together and Y/N can feel herself loosening up, swaying to the music as she closes her eyes. The classics enthusiast knows most of the lyrics by heart and dares to play with the melody a little bit when there’s room, all the time carrying a smile on her lips. A smile that is pure bliss to Dean, and watching the woman he is losing his heart to express herself has him lost for words. This is what happiness looks like and he can’t get enough of seeing her in this state of mind.

    Benny finished the song with a little solo of his own, knocking his head back with the last notes and drawing applause from the others. Y/N exchanges a look with the two wranglers, thrilled with how that little collaboration worked out. As the clapping dies down, Dean becomes quiet, pondering on his next song. Curious of what he will pick next, Y/N watches him. She doesn’t know, however, that she is the one person occupying his mind.      Again Dean turns to his best mate. “You know the chords to ‘Desire’, Ryan Adams?”     “Sure do.”     He brings the harmonica to his mouth and lets the air flow through the instrument as he moves the intakes on his lips, testing the notes. Dean listens, staring into the fire for a moment as he gets the feel of it. Then Benny starts on the verse and the cowboy begins to sing.

    “Two hearts fading, like a flower.     All this waiting, for the power.     For some answers, to this fire.     Sinking slowly, the water’s higher.     Desire… Desire…”

    Quietly Y/N watches as he moves his upper body back and forth slowly, like waves rolling onto the beach and pulling back again. His voice overwhelms her with every note, so raw and pure and sincere that it gives her goosebumps. Sometimes his eyes close as he enjoys the flow of the song, but throughout most of his performance, they are open, looking up at either the sky or into the flickering flames. But ever so often he glances over, honest eyes strengthening the message. Is he…? Is he singing this song for her?

    “With no secrets, no obsession.     This time I’m speeding. With no direction.     Without reason. What is this fire?     Burning slowly, my one and only…hmmm.”

    Desire… Desire…”

    There’s a calmness that washes over her and for that moment, it feels like it’s just the two of them. While listening to the words, she brings her hand up to cover her mouth, afraid to make a sound and disturb the magic. Folded fingers press against her lips as she swallows apprehensively, feeling her throat is closing up. She is so moved, that tears shimmer in her eyes. Her eyes which never leave him, not once.

    “You know me. You know my way.     You just can’t show me, but God, I’m praying.     That you’ll find me, and that you’ll see me.     That you run and never tire.”

    Desire… Desire…”

    The harmonica echoes through the valley as Benny takes on the last part of the song, but the sound of the instrument fades out in Y/N’s mind. Dean watches his friend for a short moment, but then glances at her. Instantly his expression changes and she realizes he is able to see that her eyes are glazed over in emotion.     “Hey…” he whispers concerned, moving his hand to lay it over hers.     “I’m okay,” she assures, smiling, blinking away the tears. “In fact, I don’t think I ever felt this happy.”     Dean settles, the worry leaving room for his own happiness. Supporting, he gently squeezes before he retreats his hand, holding onto her gaze just a bit longer. Then he averts his eyes to watch the harmonica player’s grand finale.     Several other rock and country songs are covered and the evening flies by in record time. Adoring glances and little touches are exchanged between Y/N and Dean, without the others noticing. If it wasn’t for the company, who knows how the night might end, and she silently wishes it was just them, sitting here by the fire. It’s ten to midnight when she fails to suppress a yawn.     “You and me both,” Macy comments as she gets up, covering her mouth as she yawns as well. “I’m gonna get some sleep.”     It’s anything but a bad idea, because their bodies are drained. Macy’s friend and her brother get up as well, gathering their things before they go to their tent, thanking the crew for the good night.

    “You take first watch, brother?” Benny checks before he hops off the boulder.     Dean nods. “I’ll wake you up at three.”     “Already lookin’ forward to it,” the farrier grunts.     He shuffles to the tent closest to the paddock and unzips the canvas, crawling in on hands and knees, before closing the opening again. And there she has it, her wish granted; it’s just her and Dean now.

    The wrangler realizes it too, because a nervousness overcomes him. He adjusts himself a little, crossing his stretched legs at his ankles as he observes her for a short minute. Poor thing, she can barely keep her eyes open. Ten hours in the saddle and traveling across the desert under the ruthless sun are taking their toll.     “You should get some rest,” he suggests softly. “Tomorrow’s another day.”     Almost pleading, Y/N looks up at him, because even though her body begs to differ, she wants to stay. But when a yawn escapes her again, she has to admit her loss; she is so tired, she’s not even worth a dime. With at least two more days to go, the cowgirl needs to keep her strength up.     “You’re right.” She sighs as she gets up. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Dean.”     “G’night,” he returns, an ache developing in his chest as she moves away.     He watches her struggle with the tent and chuckles, but then she disappears inside, leaving a saddening silence. Within a couple of seconds he regrets his decision of letting her go, but remains seated on the rock, facing the fire. Pondering, he goes over the night, over every single moment, no matter how small.     “Chief?”     Dean looks over at the tent he shares with Benny, noticing how the Southerner has popped his head through the opening again.     “If you were waitin’ for the perfect opportunity,” his friend carefully starts, “that was it.”     The head wrangler glares at his friend, telling him that now is not a good time to judge his actions. Benny has a point, though; he missed his third shot. Let’s hope the rules of baseball don’t apply in this game of love.

    Wide awake, Y/N stares at the ceiling of her tent while listening to the wildlife outside. Crickets chirp loud enough to annoy the restless woman, but she can blame the insects all she wants, they are not the reason for her insomnia. She slept for about thirty minutes, unconscious before her head hit the pillow, but without significant reason, she woke up and hasn’t been able to sleep since. A sigh slips from her lips as she shuts her eyes stubbornly, forcing herself to get some sleep, but after a minute she opens them again and turns on her flashlight to check the time. For God’s sake, it’s almost 2 AM.

    Y/N switches off the torch again and tosses and turns, trying to get comfortable on the thin air mattress without waking Macy. But whatever she does, her brain continues its attempt to process and analyze every emotion that short-circuited her body last night. Every bit of hope, happiness, but most of all, the love that filled her. There’s no doubt in her mind; she knows she has fallen head over boots for Dean. The difference is that she strongly believes she witnessed his love for her as well tonight. She knew he was interested, he made that clear early on. But this… this is different. This is deeper.     Inhaling slowly, Y/N tries to lower her heart rate and calm herself, but it’s a hopeless case. Defeated, she gives up and rises from the bed, slipping back into her jeans. Somewhat angry with herself, she pulls a clean tank top over her head and squirms into her denim jacket, after which she crawls to the opening to unzip the tent.

    Apart from the crickets, it’s quiet outside. The campfire has decreased in size, only half a log fueling the flames. The faint light fans out and only reaches so far, drawing dark shapes past the rocks and tents. Beyond its range, the world is pitch black. A little uneasy, Y/N crosses her arms in front of her chest and tries to chase away the chill. It’s the beginning of October and the difference between day and night is growing larger. In contrast to the heat about twelve hours ago, the air seems brisk now, as it would be on an autumn night at home.

    She sits down on the boulder facing the fire, hunched over as she looks around for Dean. Every sound seems magnified, sounds that she does not want to know the origin of. Didn’t Benny mention that there are mountain lions in this area? One of the horses sighs a little further up and although Y/N can barely make out their shadows, she tries to ease herself with the fact that they are calm. Their instincts would make them the first to sense danger, so if they are comfortable, why shouldn’t she be?     Something rummages in the dark and slow footsteps follow. Her eyes dart in the direction where the sound comes from, but then Y/N lets out a breath of air when it is in fact the person she hoped to find.     Dean steps into the light and notices the intern, clearly surprised. “Hey… What are you doing up?”     “Couldn’t sleep,” she excuses simply.     For a second he wonders what caused her to lie awake, but decides to leave the reason for what it is and instead makes a joke. “Scared that the Apache Indians will invade the camp?”     “Shut up,” she mutters, embarrassed.

    Smirking amused, he shoves some dry branches into the fire, trying to spike it up a little. He then settles down next to her on the boulder that serves fine as a bench, careful to leave enough space between them. At ease, he watches Y/N from aside, who in turn stares at the fire, intrigued. How the flames lick at the wood, slowly swallowing the twigs. How little fireflies of hot amber twirl up into the night sky.

  The weariness that he felt when she left a couple of hours ago is gone instantly, her presence soothing him. She has her arms crossed in front of her chest, hugging herself to stay warm. It makes her seem so small. Without missing a beat, he reaches for the plaid blanket that he used himself earlier before he went to check the horses, and hangs it over her shoulders.     Grateful, Y/N pulls the wool fabric around her body a little tighter. “Thank you.”

    For a couple of minutes, the two of them just sit there, listening to the crackle and pop of the fire as they simply enjoy each other’s company. Reluctant to break the silence, Y/N steals a glance at the handsome man next to her. The radiance of the flames caresses his hair, highlighting it with gold and adding a soft glow to his freckled skin. Dark shadows bring out his strong jaw, his profile illuminated by the frantic light. There’s a softness in his eyes, his pupils slightly dilated due to the darkness that surrounds them, but they still leave enough for the beautiful shade of forest green to mesmerize her. Feeling his company’s lingering gaze, he turns his head to meet it. He smiles, the smallest chuckle rumbling deep down in his throat as he takes her in.

    “What?” she wonders.     “When you first arrived at the ranch, you seemed a little… out of place. We just brought the cattle in and we all looked ragged and dirty, probably smelled even worse. We had a few drinks, were loud. A proper bunch of country folks,” he starts. “And then you walked in, the complete opposite. Your hair all done, nice clothes, shiny boots.”     She grins. “I stood out, huh?”     “You did.” He smirks at the memory, but he’s not just reminiscing over the first time they met.     “Are you telling me that I look ragged and dirty now too? Or that I smell bad?” She side-eyes him, noticing the slight horror on his face when he realizes how his words are coming across.     “No! N-no, that’s not at all what I’m… Y-you smell great,” he stutters, and Y/N can’t contain a giggle.      Dean scoffs and shakes his head; she got him there. Slowly the heat fades from his cheeks. “What I’m tryin’ to say is… I mean, look at you now,” Dean says, letting his eyes roam over her for a second. “You’re achieving your goals, proving the judgemental ones wrong. And I know it ain’t easy. It’s hard work. I’ve seen plenty of people cave in their first week. But not you. You became a part of the ranch… a part of this family.”

    The corners of her mouth lift when the last word sets in. Family. She is a part of this family. Of course, she isn’t from here and she will always call Freeport home, and yet Y/N has never felt like she truly belonged somewhere. Not until now.     “Were you one of the judgemental ones?” she asks him.     “I would be lyin’ to you if I said I wasn’t,” he admits, shame evident when he lowers his head. “I’ve never been more glad to be wrong, though.”     Her smile grows, much like her heart. She looks down at her feet, dragging marks with her heels in the sand. Why is she so nervous to sit here next to him, when at the same time she has never felt more comfortable?

    “Dean?” She turns to him a little bit more, her knee brushing against his. The touch is so light it shouldn’t leave her skin so sensitive, but it does. “That song you sang,” she continues, daring to restore eye contact. “Was that dedicated to someone?”     The wrangler’s heartbeat fastens and he’s doing his best not to heave his chest noticeably. He knows she’s not asking if he sang her a pretty song. No, she’s asking if he meant it. If every word that rolled from his tongue was the truth. If every raw edge in his voice was shaped by the rush of emotions that plows through him whenever he thinks of her. If every time he closed his eyes as he got lost in the music, it was her who he pictured.     “It was,” he admits.     “Does she know?” she counters, her eyes playfully taunting him.     He grins, dipping his chin slightly, but his expression changes the moment she moves her hand to his face and lets her delicate fingers run through his hair, her thumb softly rubbing his temple. Under hypnosis he stares into her soul, his eyes bouncing over her features.

      He’s not sure if he can speak, now that he’s completely under her spell, but he can try.     “I sure as hell hope she does,” he says, his voice so soft that it is no more than a whisper. “But you tell me.”

    If there was any doubt left about the attraction being mutual, it is gone now. Dean just laid it out in front of her, and as a pair of hopeful greens wait for her to respond to his words, Y/N doesn’t waste another second. She closes the few inches between them, shuts her eyes and meets the cowboy halfway. She kisses him first, the action igniting a similar sensation as diving off a cliff into unknown water: thrilling, scary, but addictively exciting at the same time. Thankfully Dean instantly responds, welding his lips against hers and taking away her insecurity. Y/N half registers him cupping her face, careful not to break the moment, but the rush of blood to the head soon has her so dizzy that she has trouble focusing.

    He lingers in the kiss, drawing out the moment for as long as he can. Then they part, pausing for a second as both wranglers open their eyes. Stunned, they stare at each other. Her hand has slid down to his chest, and he knows she can feel it rising and falling under her touch, his heart beating against her palm like a drum. Trying to get a hold of himself, he takes a breath, a small smile forming on his parted lips as he swipes a frizzy strand of hair from her face. He always thought she was beautiful, but in this light, looking at him like she does now… My God, beauty doesn’t even begin to define her.     Now he moves in, less hesitant, drowning in another kiss before he can help himself. His lips graze over hers eagerly, deepening the connection when she allows him to. Giving the cowboy permission, even chasing him in the touch, sets him free completely. Finally, he is able to push past the self-consciousness. Finally, he can dismiss the voice within that tells him that she deserves so much better. The woman he’s in love with wants to be with him and nothing has ever felt so liberating. He lets her know, by tracing the soft skin of her cheek with his thumb. By resting his forehead against hers for a brief moment when he needs to come up for air. By putting every bit of want and adoration into their first kiss.     Every one of Y/N's senses is set in overdrive. As she breathes him in, she smells the aroma of aftershave from this morning’s trim, mixed with the scent of leather, horses and dust. She tastes the salt on his slightly chapped lips and El Corona on his tongue. She hears his respiration, the sound of him pulling in oxygen whenever his mouth parts from her for a short second, blend with the noise of her own breaths. But it’s how he touches her that blows her mind. He cradles her head, curled fingertips pressing in her skin as if he’s afraid he will lose what he just gained. Moved, she cards her fingers through his short hair and pulls him even closer, letting him know that she isn’t going anywhere. And all this time, her palm covers his heart, the steady rhythm that beats under her touch intensifying the intimacy. Wanting to stay here with her as long as possible, he lets his free hand slip over hers.     After an entire month of fighting this feeling, contemplating whether this is a good idea or not, they broke through the restraints. For now, the self-doubt is gone, the fear of commitment with it. Neither of them worries about the consequences of their actions, nor about the fact that Y/N will leave in five months. At this very moment, all that matters is that they allowed each other in. Here at Willow Spring in the Superstition Mountains, Arizona. The center of the universe.

Well, you waited almost 60K for this moment. I hope it met the expectations!

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part twelve here

[clareguilty]

Valentines Gift Fic 4

Jesse X Reader Here it is! Happy Valentines day to the wonderful @pegasusdrawnchariots <3 you are wonderful and amazing and you deserve the world! This is kind of an AU for Steel Horses (an AU for an AU u kno how it be)

The desert slid by slowly outside the train window. If you hadn't grown up among the rocks and sand, you would have found the landscape monotonous and boring. Instead, this was home for you. There was beauty in the desolation. You watched the foothills fade into the distance. You couldn't imagine what the high mountains would be like. Looming and perilous? Bitter and cold?

Leaving home was hard. You would miss the sun and the stone and the songs of the cattle men.

A band of riders kicked up dust on the horizon, far enough that the horses were just specks. Wildness. Freedom. You envied them. Just the thunder of hoofbeats under the wide open sky.

The riders drew closer, you could make out the wide brims of hats. The flutter of their coats.

The glint of sun off the barrel of a rifle.

Bandits.

You froze in your seat. Should you alert the other passengers? The conductor? Could the train outrun their horses?

You stood, hands shaking. You had to do something.

Not even two steps down the aisle, a heavy hand clapped on your shoulder. A low voice drawled in your ear.

"I see you noticed my friends out there," the man said. The muzzle of a revolver pressed into the small of your back. "Why don't we sit back down?" He tugged you back to your seat.

The bandit roughly pushed you back to your spot by the window, sitting next to you and blocking any chance of escape. The revolver peeked from beneath his serape. He could shoot you before you even moved.

"You're going to rob the train," you said quietly, looking straight ahead to the front of the car.

"That we are." You saw him nod out of the corner of your eye.

"Are people going to get hurt?" You hated how your voice shook.

"I would certainly hate to have to hurt anyone. But sometimes, it happens."

"I don't have very much money." Your lip trembled. "I'll have nothing." You had spent most of your savings on your ticket to Denver. The rest of your money was supposed to pay for lodgings when you got to the city.

"You see that woman over there?" The outlaw jerked his elbow toward a few rows up.

You nodded, throat tight.

"She's got a fine gold watch. She's ordered three glasses of brandy. There's a sapphire on her finger."

She was a beautiful woman. A fine woman. Head held high and hair pinned in place with jewels and gold.

"The man across from her pays for her drinks. The clip on his billfold is platinum. He has a jeweled pin on his lapel."

You watched the man smooth his moustache with white gloved fingers. The pin glinted in the afternoon light.

"There's a man in the next car. His hands are rough but his clothes are fine. He bragged about how much money he's made and tried to convince other men to gamble with him."

You turned to look at the bandit for this first time. His eyes were a warm hazel that gleamed like fire in the sun. Brown hair framed his face. He was… handsome. You stared at him, unable to understand how a man so beautiful could be so dangerous.

“You see, sweetpea?” The outlaw grinned, cocksure and crooked. “When my buddies stop this train, I already know exactly what I’m going to steal and who I’m going to steal from. There ain’t much glory in stealing from those who ain’t got nothing to begin with.”

You nodded along, pretending like his convoluted explanation made sense. Despite the fear that gripped your heart, you found yourself lost in the eyes of this mysterious outlaw.

“Now,” he patted your shoulder, “you just sit right here and let me and my friends finish our job. If you’re a good girl, I may just give you a treat.” His smile was easy, but you could see the threat behind his eyes.

The train began to slow. You could hear commotion from the other cars. The sound of a gunshot made you jump.

“Easy, darling,” the outlaw brushed your hair behind your ear. “You ain’t got nothing to be scared of.

The wheels screamed as the ground to a halt against the tracks. The outlaw stood, brandishing his revolver out in the open.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he bellowed, “if you’ll pardon the interruption, this is a robbery. No one has to get hurt. I just need for you to hand over your valuables.” He shook out a burlap sack. 

The other passengers on the train clamored and cowered. You watched the outlaw stride up and down the aisle, demanding the passengers cough up their money and jewelry. You noticed how he passed people by: the mother with her child, the old man with a cane, the young man with tatter clothes and sunken cheeks. He stole from the man with the platinum billfold, the woman with the sapphire ring. 

“Thank you kindly,” he tipped his hat as he began to make his way to the next car. “I hope y’all arrive safely at your destination.”

And then he was gone. You could hear him in the next car, warning the passengers not to cause trouble. You were frozen in your seat, still trying to figure out what had just happened.

Agonizing minutes of waiting. Listening for the sound of a gunshot or a cry of pain. None came. The train began a steady crawl forward, slowly picking up speed. You peered out the window, looking for a band of horses retreating on the horizon. Instead, you saw the outlaw.

A strong, dark horse was keeping pace with the train, chestnut brown with a white star. The outlaw smiled widely and waved his hand, gesturing for you to open the window.

You shoved the glass up. The wind caught your hair as you leaned out, shielding the sun from your eyes.

“Hey, sweetpea,” the bandit called. “I told you I would give you a treat, didn’t I?” He waved a parcel in his hands.

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. This was ridiculous. You were hanging out of the side of a train, accepting gifts from an outlaw. “Does this make me an accomplice?” you called.

“Most certainly,” the outlaw grinned. He had perfect control of the horse as he pulled up alongside the train, reaching out to offer you the parcel. You leaned farther out of the window to grab it, heart racing. The train was picking up speed, faster and faster with each passing second.

Your fingers closed around the package. You pulled it into your chest.

The outlaw tipped his hat one last time before rearing his horse in and turning to ride back the way he came. You watched him disappear in the distance before you pushed back into your seat. Your cheeks were burning from the wind and from the flood of emotions racing through you. You tore open the package, heart racing as you unwrapped the paper.

It was a handful of bills, a string of pearls, and a blue sapphire ring.

[excindrela]

12 Days of Demon Ayno - Day 5 (M)

Supernatural AU

Pairing: demon! Ayno (Noh YoonHo) VAV / Female reader

Genre:  A touch of Fluff/ a dash of soft Smut/ and A N G S T

Warnings: occult, fingering, unprotected sex (be safe people!), implied sex

Word Count: 3352

AN: Welcome back to the 5th Day of Demon Ayno’s holiday! This one got away from me and turned out way longer than I expected.  I love feedback- so if there’s something you like, or something you want to see- tell me!! Thank you to everyone who has continued to read this, and especially to those who have re-blogged! There is no way I will have this finished by Christmas, but please stay tuned for days 6-12!

Demon Ayno: Summoned | Thanksgiving | 12 Days: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9

On the 5th Day of Christmas: You & Ayno Got Out of Town

You were doing the dishes on Wednesday night as Ayno sat at the kitchen island reading to you from the community newspaper.

“The culinary school is going to have weekend baking workshops. Perhaps I should go since baking seems to not go well for me. This Saturday is Christmas stollen…whatever that is.” Ayno said.

“It’s a German bread that has fruit in it”, you laughed.  “Sounds fun, but we can’t go. We’re going to be gone this weekend.”

“We are going somewhere? Together?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes. We are going to Caston Marshall’s engagement party. I’ve known her since pre-school. Her wedding is June 15th, but it’s here in downtown. The engagement party is at The Sugar Pines – it’s a posh ski resort in the mountains a few hours drive from here.”

“So, we will go to the mountains on Saturday?” he confirmed.

“Actually…I thought it seemed like a nice getaway…and I wanted to spend time with you, so I’m taking Friday off work. We can drive up Friday morning and spend half of Friday and all Saturday morning enjoying the resort – and each other- go to the party Saturday night, and come home on Sunday after brunch.”

Ayno came up behind you and gave you a full body back hug and turned your face to his so he could kiss you softly. “First vacation together! Thank you- looking forward to spending time with you somewhere new.”

*          *          *

The resort was lovely with lots of warm wood and brick, open gathering spaces, large fireplaces and huge windows overlooking the ski runs. You didn’t have a particularly fancy room, but it had a king size bed with high thread count sheets and a down comforter; and a 2 way fireplace- one side faced the bed, and the other side faced the giant sunken oval bathtub that dominated the bathroom.

After getting settled in, you went for a walk to check out what the resort had to offer. The concierge got you a window side table for 2 for dinner that night in the restaurant at the top of the runs, and you rented snowshoes for Saturday morning from the winter sports desk.

You found Ayno out on the terrace watching riders going down the tube run. “Do you want to try?” you asked him.

“We can ride that?” he asked excitedly.

“Yep! Let’s go get tickets!” you said, grabbing his hand to jog down the stairs to the hut with the tubes.

You spent an hour riding up the hill on the magic carpet and then sliding down in the candy colored donuts, over the rolling bumps to the bottom, over and over again. You loved watching Ayno’s blonde hair float and fly as he bounced his way down the tube run and hearing his shrieks of joy and laughter the whole ride down. It was so much fun, and his childlike enthusiasm made you sorry when your time was up.

You went back to the room and changed to dinner clothes and rode the gondola up to the top of the mountain to have dinner. Your table overlooked the ski runs and the lodge below, and between courses you admired all the colors the setting sun cast on the white mountains and then the beauty of the stars emerging in the dark above the lights adorning the resort as they winked on.

Considering Ayno’s background, you were surprised at how well he adapted to romance. He held your hand all through dinner, gazing at you adoringly. After dinner, you moved to a love seat by one of the fireplaces; where you sat drinking Bailey’s & coffee with Ayno’s arm around you while you talked softly with each other and Ayno occasionally left soft kisses on your temples and cheeks.

You ended your night the way you’d hoped ever since you saw the room: with the fireplace blazing, in a hot bubble bath with Ayno. You had started out relaxing seated between his legs, leaning back against his warm smooth chest. But wasn’t long before your hands were stroking his thighs, while he kissed your neck and his fingers worked inside of you while his thumb teased your clit. He knew how to push you over the edge so easily, that in no time he had your fingers digging into his thighs, whimpering his name as your toes curled and you saw stars.

You rolled over to straddle him, taking his hard length and running your hand up and down it a few times before guiding it inside of you. You loved the way Ayno’s body fit inside yours: he filled you completely, but not uncomfortably. The feeling was always pure bliss- like something that had been missing was replaced and you were whole again.

He brought his lips to gently suck and lick your nipples while he rolled his hips beneath you. You sighed and ran your fingers into his hair.

“Are you happy now that I am inside you? Do I please you?” he asked as he worked kisses up the column of your throat.

“Mmmm yes...I love this feeling”, you confirmed. “You always please me Ayno.”

He smiled contentedly, “I know you want more, but you will have to give up this bathtub for me to give it to you, otherwise you will need a kayak to get to the toilet later.”

You had to laugh. He was right, you desperately wanted to feel his hips bruising your thighs, his hands at your throat, but you hated the idea of un-joining your bodies for even a moment.  As though reading your mind, Ayno smiled and said “Don’t worry baby, I’ve got this. Hang on.” You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck; and in one strong graceful movement he leaned forward and undid the tub stopper before standing up and wrapping a towel around your bodies.  You moaned softly at the sensations the new angle created, and from the feeling of him inside you as he walked. “Mmmm…going to have to remember to do this with you again…” he said as he laid you down on the bed to finish what you had started.

*          *          *

Room service delivered your coffee, pastries & fresh fruit right on time at 8. Ayno eyed the cheese danish dubiously, and it took a good 10 min to convince him to take a bite. Once he did however, you were glad that you liked plain croissants with butter because the rest of the cheese danish along with the cherry and chocolate ones disappeared with lightning speed. Then you introduced him to fresh squeezed orange juice, and by the look of ecstasy on his face your grocery bill was going to be going up.

At 10 you picked up your snowshoes from the winter sports desk and made your way to the south lodge to catch the snowcat out to the back country where the show shoeing and cross-country ski trails were.

You reached the cat stop and waved good-bye to the skiers as you followed the trail into the woods. About a half mile later you emerged on the other side in a small meadow. Ayno looked around at the field of snow, brightened up and said, “In the meadow we can build a snowman!” You laughed, “This does seem like the place for it!” “How?” Ayno asked. You put your hands on your hips and surveyed the drifts. “Well, you look for the hardest, most frozen snow you can find, and you make the biggest snowball possible, and then you start rolling it through the snow patting more and more onto it until it’s the size you want. Then you do it again, and stack that one on top of the first one and do it again and make that one the head. Then you decorate it!”

“Ok!” Ayno said as he got to work. You decided to start making the body piece. A couple minutes later, you realized that Ayno was just standing there.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I am having a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” you asked, concerned.

“This” said Ayno as he reached down and scooped up a handful of snow. You watched as it rapidly melted and ran through his fingers.

“Oh.” You said, realization dawning, “You’re too hot. You’re more than 40 degrees hotter than the average human and your hands don’t get cold. You actually melt the snow before you can pack it.”

He looked disappointed and irritated. “It’s ok Ayno” you soothed “At least I know I will never freeze to death with you. How about if I build it and you can decorate it?”

“No, it is too much to do alone.”

“Ok, how about if we make a mini snowman? We can use the piece I started as the bottom.”

He considered this for a moment before agreeing.

An hour or so later, you had a very fine, very small snowman. Ayno had found rocks for eyes and a mouth, a pinecone for a nose, and twigs for arms. When you were satisfied, you both laid in the snow next to it and Ayno’s long arms captured your snowman selfie.

You headed off down the trail, when a mischievous idea hit you.

You formed a snowball and pelted it at Ayno. “Hey” he yelled ducking as it hit his shoulder. You made another one and fired again, this one connecting with his back. “Not fair!” He yelled as he tried to run. You laughed and chased after him, scooping up snow and making ammunition as you went. He yelled and ran, as you made several snowballs you began pelting him with.

“Ahhhh!!! Noooo! Stoooop!!” Ayno laughed and whined.

“You know, for a minion of evil with red leathery skin and black wings, you’re awfully soft.” You teased him.

Ayno whirled around and stared at you, his eyes already glowing a bright pink color…he was irritated. “Who told you my wings were black?!”

You arched an eyebrow at him. His irritated overreaction to your teasing was irritating you.

“WHO?!” he demanded, his eyes slowly turning to a deeper shade of hot pink with anger.

You remained unfazed. “Ooohhh…so you have wings.”

Ayno realized that you had just tricked him into revealing something about his demon form, and he growled in anger and turned away from you again. This was getting ugly fast.

Suddenly your buried resentment with Ayno’s unwillingness to be open with you bubbled to the surface. “What else do you have? Horns? Fangs? Forked tongue? Spikes down your back?” you pushed.

Ayno turned and stared at you with eyes turning magenta and anger visible on his face. “Why are you asking these questions?! Why do you even want to know?!”

Although he had raised his voice, the pitch and timbre had dropped- he no longer sounded like Ayno…more like The Beast from Beauty and the Beast.

“Because?! I’d like to know something about you! Anything! Who are you really? You tell me you’re a demon, you say that I choose your appearance…well, you must’ve looked like something before I got ahold of you! I’ve never seen a demon before, so show me the beast! Go on Ayno- turn! There’s no one out here- nobody but me will see! It’s not like you’ll be cold…”

He was horrified at the suggestion. “NO! NEVER! This is not for you to see! Ever!!” he raged, his eyes burning almost red, and his voice now 3 octaves lower and with a slight echo – it sounded like something straight out of a horror movie.

You were emboldened by your own frustration and anger, and you knew you should be afraid of him like this; but you were too fascinated at the change these emotions brought about in Ayno.

“Aren’t you bound to me? Don’t you have to do my will? Show me your true form Ayno”, you said authoritatively.

Ayno fixed you with a cold look of defiance. “I have virtually no control over my existence. My Master, my Patrons – you all command me, and I am forced to obey. But this- this one thing- I have control of. And under no circumstances will I show you my true form!”

“Why not?! You realize that I know virtually nothing about you, right? You came into my house through a mirror! And I let you stay…I trust you- although I have no reason to- I just let you into my life. You know things about me…you have met my family…and yet you will tell me nothing about yourself, or show me who you really are”, you spat your words at him as you turned away.  

Ayno slumped down on a fallen tree and put his head in his hands. You watched him for a few moments before coming over and sitting near him.  You sat in strained silence- still angry, but wanting so badly to reach out to him- to touch him and bridge the gap between the two of you. It felt like an eternity passed before he spoke, but you were relieved that his voice was almost normal when he did, although he continued looking at the ground.

“In my life, I have often been made to look handsome or rugged, but I have only been ‘beautiful’ a few times. You have made me so beautiful. I see the way people look at me- how they smile, and respond to my smile, treat me favorably …I hear heartbeats quicken and smell pheromones surge when I get near. I like this feeling… I like being pretty and well built. But more than this, I like the way you look me. There is kindness, tenderness and affection in your gaze and your touch. My true form is hideous and frightening –  I am supposed to be like this- it is appropriate for a demon and I am not ashamed of it – but I am so afraid that it would be something that- how do you say it? You could “not unsee it”? …and you would never look at me the same again. I do not want you to look upon me with fear and pity, and to shrink away and refuse my touch. I …I think that might break me… I do not know how I would recover…” He dropped his head to his elbows and wrapped his forearms around his head.

There was a long silence where the only sounds to be heard were the wind in the pines, and the stuttered breaths of Ayno’s soft sobs. You weren’t sure what to say or how to comfort him: you felt badly for making him hurt like this, but not sorry for forcing the subject into the open.

“I’m sorry Ayno. I didn’t mean to hurt you or make you angry.”

Finally, he spoke again, “I am not angry with you. I understand that you have almost no knowledge of my kind or the place from which I come. I know you are curious, and just want to know and understand me. Thank you for this – I appreciate that you are interested in me and want to learn.” He paused, “I am sorry that I yelled at you. I was…frightened. Asking questions about my appearance caught me off guard; and made me afraid that you had been visited by someone- or something- else.” He took a deep breath and turned to face you, “If you will promise never to ask me to show my true form again, I will promise to truthfully answer any questions you have; with the understanding that if I tell you I cannot or will not answer, it is not because I am keeping a secret, it is to keep you safe.”

You nodded. “I can live with that.”

“Can you still live with me?” he asked cautiously, his eyes not meeting yours.

“Oh, Ayno…” you said gently as you climbed into his lap and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly. You lifted his puffy tear stained face to look at you.  “Of course I want you. Yes, ok, you are a demon- but you are my demon, you are my boyfriend. Every relationship takes work because every relationship has issues…ours are just a little unique. It’s still about both parties caring so much for the other person that you are willing to talk, and compromise, and find solutions instead of just giving up. …and I am not giving up.” Your heart was pounding in your ears- you were sure he could hear it. “I want this Ayno. I want you…I want us.” Your admission terrified you…you thought of all your failed relationships...and that he had never actually had one.

He pulled you back into his arms and held you tightly. “I am scared too. But in my whole existence, I have never wanted anything more than I want to be with you.” You squeezed him tighter. You sat like this for awhile, letting the last of your anger dissipate and allowing the weight of your admissions to soak in.

Eventually you reluctantly broke away from each other and decided to head back down the trail to the cat stop so you could return to the lodge and get ready for the party. As you walked down the trail hand in hand, Ayno took a deep breath and asked, “What do you want to know?”

You thought for a moment. “Do you really have black wings?”

“Yes.”

“Are they big? Can you use them – like can you fly?”

“Yes, and yes.”

“Really? That’s cool.” You paused as you assimilated the knowledge. “Do you have horns?”

Ayno hesitated slightly, “Yes.”

“What are they like?? Where are they??” you asked in wonder.

“Medium? They are smooth, and black, and they have a twist. They are on my head, where else would they be?”

You gave a small laugh “Well, yeah, but top? Side?”

Ayno stopped walking, took your hands and placed them on his head looking at you meaningfully. “Am I touching your horns??” you asked.

“Yes. Your fingers are resting on them.”

“Can you fee-“

“Yes. Everything is still there- you just can’t see it…it morphs to fit inside my human shape”, he explained.

“Oh. So, is this your normal height?”

“No. I am about…” he looked up, muttering softly in a language you did not recognize as he did mental calculations, “roughly 10 ft tall.”

“Really? Wow.”

He shrugged. “Like I said, I am big and scary. I think I am rather attractive as demons go, but I am still generally considered hideous to humans.”

“Not this one. I think you sound pretty awesome.”

Ayno just chuckled and shook his head at you.

*          *          *

When you got out of the shower, Ayno was still laying naked in bed, wrapped in the tousled sheets, drawing something with a ball point pen on the hotel stationary. You stood towel drying your hair, looking at his work. “What is that?”

He looked up at you and smiled faintly, “Self-portrait.”

You took the paper and examined the rough sketch. Nodding you said “Very nice! You have a tail? Where do you put that?”

He looked up at you and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. You burst out laughing.

“I see! Well, I think you look menacing and foreboding. I have clearly landed myself an excellent demon.”

He laughed and pulled you down onto the bed, pinning you in place with his torso as brought his mouth to yours in a passionate kiss.

“Stop that!” you laughed against his lips “I just got out of the shower!”

“But I find that I like make-up sex…”

“We already had make-up sex. You only get make-up sex after a fight. This would just be sex”, you laughed.

“Hmmm. Then I will be happy without make-up sex, because I do not like fighting with you.”

“Agreed. C’mon- let’s get ready. We can do this as much as you want after the party.”

“Ok. …I hope it is a short party…” he murmured.

You couldn’t agree more.

[exodusmc]

A dream final

Genre: Royal au

Words: 3851

Paring: Poor Jongdae! x princess reader!

Warning!:  blood, getting hit with a bow, mentions of execution, beating

a/n:  Ah, so it finally comes to an end! I’m sorry it have taken me so long to finish this but I kinda lost inspiration for a while and then everything happened, so...But I managed to get it done and I hope you enjoyed it! Once again, I’m sorry it took so long :)

Jongdae regarded you from the side, watching as you took on another color than the one you wore like a weight. You had the submission in your eyes before but now were they shining like Sierra. He didn't speak the whole time, opting to watch as the others did their best to make you do what they wanted. Jongdae didn't like it but Junmyeon wanted to change the world and he seemed to do it no matter what. Branches hung over their heads as they road, closing in on the house, chills running over Jongdae's body as a short man walked out door. He looked deadly but not like Sierra, deadly with emptiness and not anger. 

“Kyungsoo..”Junmyeon smiled, dropping from his dark horse, standing a mere inch taller than the buzz cut man. 

“Jongin is still by the river but guards are coming closer..I suggest you take the deep forest path..”a frown etched itself on Minseok's face, Sierra shaking her head.

“I’m not taking Sunny through that part”

“I don't think it’s a good idea to take Sunny with us this time..”a sigh left Junmyeon.”There will be danger no matter what we chose and I don't want to risk her safety”

Jongdae grumbled from the back, thoughts going to how the black haired man didn't care for their safety, not his, not yours. 

“I’m not going then..”

“I guessed that..”another sigh huffed out of the lord.”You, Sehun and Sunny can stay, it would lessen the chances of  suspicion as well..”

Minseok and Junmyeon started to discuss their options, the whole time furrowing their eyebrows, while Jongdae could feel your eyes on him, the pain of not meeting them. He wanted to hold you if you were scared but couldn't muster courage or live with the heartache it would cause.    

“Let’s take the safe path and hope to the god that the soldiers won't be there”Junmyeon moved his gaze onto this Kyungsoo.”Stay with Jongin and update Sehun regularly..Be sure to aid if necessary..”

Himself, Minseok, Junmyeon, Baekhyun and you...Jongdae thought about leaving again, not wanting to face what would come through the woods, however, stayed because he saw how Baekhyun's face paled, how yours did too. 

“Goddamnit..”he mumbled under his breath cursing the guards again, steering his horse to the dirt road he arrived on. 

-

You watched the whole ordeal in silence, both because you felt fright but also to study Kyungsoo, a face you swore you had seen before. The large eyes and lips flashed before your inner eye, tucked away somewhere in a corner of the castle. He looked at you, bowing his head, and you realized that he had protected you, that he was a guard. You couldn't think  more about it though, your horse moving as the others did to. Hooves drummed against the ground, wind tracing over your cheeks. Baekhyun kept close to you, eyes glancing at you from time to time. You knew they all were at risk, soldiers could come and kill them, even if you pleaded for their lives.  

“If the guards were to come..Go with Jongdae Y/n..He’ll keep you safe..”Junmyeon’s words foreshadowed something bad, something which made hair stand, something which made you search for tourmaline eyes. 

-

Shivers ran over Jongdae’s back, the forest too quiet for his liking. Danger was around every corner, its prying eyes following them. Junmyeon stopped suddenly, raising one of his hands. The black haired man stared deeper into the woods, swallowing, and Jongdae cursed loudly. He heard hooves and laughter.

“M-maybe it’s not them…”Baekhyun whispered but everyone knew it was. They should have been more careful, taken another way or listened more, because there was a man standing before them, his clothes shining of royal. 

The man screamed out an order, his voice boomed deep in Jongdae, whose mind didn't comprehend the words. You stared at the soldier, fright filling you as he said the word princess. You had been caught and with you the others. The forest was no longer quiet, roars killing it. Panic filled Jongdae as he watch too many men come their way. Junmyeon started to move, his voice almost drowning in commotion. 

“Jongdae go!” Baekhyun managed to get Jongdae moving, hands holding tight on the reins. He saw your wide eyes, how the men tried getting to you and how Minseok was thrown of his horse. 

“Go now!”the cat eyed man roared out, even as he was bleeding. Jongdae felt all his anger drain when he saw Minseok getting hit but he couldn't dwell on it, Baekhyun's cry getting him going.

Jongdae galloped to you, getting a hold of your arms so he could drag you to his horse, heart hammering as he did. He had to help but still needed to get you to safety.  

“Ride! We’ll be fine!”Junmyeon screamed, catching Jongdae's eyes for a second. He had to move now or everyone would be stuck and everything would be undone. 

Pushing heels into the sides of his horse, Jongdae rode away, arms holding you tight. He managed to miss the guards, who tried to follow him but was stopped by the others. Sweat dropped down his face, while tears flowed down yours. Peeping over Jongdae’s shoulder, you saw how Baekhyun fell, an arrow burying its head in his body. 

-

“H-he got hit…”your voice made Jongdae glance down, lips pressed hard together.

“I’m sure he’s fine..”but he couldn't be sure if any of them were fine, if any of them were even alive. 

“It’s all my fault.”new tears slipped down your face, finger holding Jongdae's shirt hard.”He is dead because of m-”

“Baekhyun's not dead.”you glanced up at the man holding you, feeling his heartbeat faint but racing. His voice was harsh, just not mean.”He’s alive, all of them are, they have to be..”

The fire you had before slowly faded, hurt boiling in its place. You never wanted for them to be harmed, Baekhyun's face showing in your mind, Baekhyun’s face from all those nights ago. It seemed to lay in your blood, the curse of killing others. Jongdae was shaking slightly and you had never seen him like this, so lost. You didn't want for him to be like that, missed the night in his eyes, the night before, the night you first met. The boy who held you in his arms urged the horse forward, realizing dusk was approaching and that he had no clue about where the soldiers were, how close or far. He could hear his own breathing echo around, trees talking back with his own words. 

“I’ll try to find shelter somewhere…”and no more words were spoken for the rest of the day, stars twinkling over your head, screams pulling at your sleep.

-

Jongdae rode fast, the want to go and check if the others were okay drowning him. You had fallen asleep before him, nightmares having kept you up for most of the night. He had been close to hold you, to chase away the bad from your mind but had not done it, unsure why. Maybe it was your relation to the king who hunted his death or his cowardness for his own feelings. The break of the forest was close, another day at max, and he felt a lump form in his throat. Jongdae had no clue of what was to come when he got to the city but he had a feeling it weren't good, a feeling his blood would drop down his body. Glancing down at you, he was finally reminded about who you really were, who would take you hand, who he wasn't. Love was something he started do despise and still longed for it, for your heart as well but the prince was what he never could be, you were what he never could have- 

“Jongdae?”

“It’s okay, sleep some more...I’ll wake you up.”he hoped his life wouldn't end here but ashes only burnt for so long. 

-

It was dark but some city lights illuminate the dirt road which slowly turned to cobel.You were still in the edge of the capital, laced in between the saddle and Jongdae. He hadn't been sleeping or eating much, making you worry for his falling eyes but you knew he thought about the others, and you did too. People walked around you, sending hasty gazes at the strange riders. Jongdae tensed behind you, heart speeding up. 

“It’s okay Jongdae..It will be okay”your voice weren't loud but the boy heard you, orbs slipping down for a second to stare at the princess's face. 

“If something goes wrong, you’ll need to run..”it seemed like every word anyone had spoke about the worst future came true, had its curse senwen in the movements of the speakers lips. You didn't want his to say something remotely close to what he did, it made you uneasy.”..I’ll survive..”

A timid nod was what you mustered as his answer, eyes darting to take in his features. Face soft with angles, lips plush, lips you stared at way too long. You wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel him like a lover but yell broke your thoughts. Jongdae held you tighter for a second, staring as the guards came running. They saw him, they knew you. 

“Hide..”his voice whispered in your ear and you wanted to say no, to fight with him but he pushed you off, heeling his horse so it ran towards the men. A scream bubbled in your stomach, a scream for him to stop.

Jongdae swallowed, dropping from the animal a mere second before he hit the men. The horse reared, missing a guard’s head, as Jongdae rolled over the ground. Your eyes widened, someone grabbed Jongdae and punched him in the face. Soon were almost all of the jumping on him, hiding him from your view. Tears streamed down your face, you couldn't help him but you would try, you had to try. The citizens around you yelled, urged on the guards or begged them to stop, but all the bodies created a sea and you couldn't get through. Your figure was pushed around, shoved back until your knees hit the ground on the edge of the circle. Jongdae would die, just like Baekhyun, and it was all your fault. Anger grew in your chest, defiance making you stand.  No one would ever abuse their power again, you would make sure of it, so the sacrifices for you wouldn't be in vain. Your father would see you again but it wouldn't be a little girl, it would be a ruler. 

-

Jongdae blacked out after 15 minutes of being beaten, face and body burning. The guards had laughed at him and all he could do was grit his teeth because you got away. He was sure he wouldn't die, not yet at least, the king would probably want to cut his head of. So Jongdae let go of his consciousness and dreamed of you. There was a smile on your lips and he was standing in your room, just like before, but the thing which was different was the rings on both your hand and the crown on your head. Your warmth was welcomed by his fingers as he held you, stroking your cheek. So this was how it felt to hold you, to live with you in peace. Your lips looked soft, inviting him to kiss them. Jongdae swallowed, leaning in, but you slipped through his hands, left him with screams in the darkness. You begged for his help and he could get to you. 

“Wake up!”someone kicked him, pulling him out of his nightmare. Jongdae gasped, confused and had no time to think because his body was lifted, dragged away. 

The guards grinned down at him, wolves in their eyes. He couldn't really see, one eye swollen from punches, but he could feel. Jongdae felt every bruise on his body, however, it didn't matter as he knew he was on his way to execution, then the hurt wouldn't mean a thing, only yours would remain. 

“You’ll meet your creator now, low life..”the man pushed vaulted doors and the king stared down at him. Jongdae gazed at the sword which would cut his bones and released a breath. If only he could tell you it wasn't your fault before he went..if only he could see you one last time. 

“Rebels...all you do is hurt the people you’re trying to save..”the king sat down on his throne, glaring at Jongdae who was forced on his knees before the man. Tears were falling from the queen’s eyes and king Park wanted to hold here, but all the people in the room were there to witness the king’s power, his madness.”..you took my daughter and for it will I take your life, like the dog you are.”

His breathing became steady, acceptance making his body numb. The prince Jongdae had seen, what feels like years ago, stared at him. He tried to figure out a way to save the boy kneeling on the floor but the second he moved a muscle, would a guard raise his sword. Chanyeol gritted his teeth, unknowing of the anger his nobility caused Jongdae. He couldn't forget how the black haired man had danced with you, how different the two men were from each other. 

“You deserve so much worse..”the king mumbled with a low voice, his sword shining clean but not for long, no, the metal would be tainted with deep red and the loss of a human life. 

Jongdae exhaled, eyes staring right back at themself through the blade. He wondered about what could have been if he just did one thing different. You weren't what he regretted, simply the second time he came to you was something he wished wasn't the same. He could have been by your side if Minseok hadn't done what he did but it was the past and it seemed as if his time was ending. The king raised his hand, a sinister smile spreading over his lips as Jongdae let his gaze fall to the window behind his killer. Light fell through blue and red glass, made his racing heart slowly calm down. He knew he would get a second chance to life because he never hurt anyone and it helped him relax, everyone waiting for the final strike and breath of air. But the doors flew open and in came the young queen, head held high. You stared at your father, his hand which was about to kill once again. 

“Do not hurt him.”fire burned behind your eyes, authority shining in your step. Your mother cried your name, sobs echoing through the high walls. Her baby had grown up, had seen what she couldn't show you, but now you knew and would become the ruler your land deserved. Your softness had turned hard over a short time, forced you to watch the real world, forced you to realize what your father had done.”Lay down your sword and kneel for your queen.”

Gasps broke through everyone's lips, but Chanyeol smiled. You would take back what was yours by blood, you would make the right choice. The king was old and your whole life had he raised you so he could be the master of your mind even when he no longer sat on the throne, however, one brown haired boy changed that, came crashing into your life and made it more exciting.  

“What is this nonsense! They kidnapped you! Do you understand, kidnapped you!”your father screamed out, losing his cool as you merely looked at his reding face.”They brainwashed you, made you crazy!”

“You locked me inside these walls and lied..”standing before him, you challenged his anger, let him see the power you had, how you wouldn’t bow for him this time.”..I’m doing what I believe is right for my kingdom and as the ruler with the highest of power I demand you to release this man!”

All the guards around you didn't know what to do. You were not crowned yet but the king losing his mind made them scared, everyone but the man who took Jongdae and forced him to kneel. A scoff escaped your father but as his mouth opened to speak, was the queen moving to stand by your side, her head held higher than ever. 

“Listen to your new ruler and release the boy..”a hiss made its way from the guard holding down Jongdae, the crooked body starigheting, waiting for orders but not from you.”..and take the former king to the towers.”

Your eyes widened, just like your father’s, but you mother wasn't lying down. She held her stands and you stood by her side with so much power, the head guard was sure of no one but you could be the ruler they needed. So he ordered every soldier to grab the king and strip him of the crown on his old head. Roars of anger ripped through your father’s throat, body overpowered by the guards which choose you, the girl with bright eyes. 

The man who had kicked Jongdae frowned, disliking the way you were thinking you could run the kingdom and hurt the king. He growled out a sound from his chest, standing too far away from you when he drew his knife, intention on killing the boy of your dreams. But Chanyeol was too fast and a mere no had slipped between your lips when the prince was standing before the still kneeling Jongdae, sword shining in his hand. Chanyeol grabbed it from one of the guards before the man could hurt Jongdae and go against you words.

“Listen to your queen, peasant, or suffer pain!”authority laced the prince’s words, one swing of the sharp edge and the man was shaking with fear. 

Your father and the guard not following you were both pulled away as Chanyeol watched them with a puffed chest. He turned to you with that  dazzling smile before bowing low for you, grin never leaving his lips.You were a queen worthy of your people and he saw it, your fire which Jongdae unknowingly had ignited. Suffering would be no more in your kingdom and you would start with announcing the change of throne. 

“Now witness all in this great hall how the new queen takes her place!”

Jongade felt like he was in a haze, staring at you, right where the king was about to end his life. You had become everything Minseok wanted and the kneeling boy still couldn't feel happiness. Jongdae was still a man of the street, no prince, and you were now a queen, further away than the moon which had danced over your skin one time and one more. 

-

Your eyes trailed the outside world, how banners in all colours flew around the city, your city. On your head was a simple band of gold resting, the crown you choose to wear while the rest of the gold your father had used to make his own with was given to the poor. This was what you wanted, a new life for everyone, but there was still pain. 

Everytime you closed your eyes would Baekhyun get shot and blood would pour from those smiling lips, Minseok would fall down and Junmyeon would scream. The nightmares never left you, no matter what you did. Chanyeol had showed concern but you just waved him off, wishing for a brown haired boy to just come back and be by your side. Jongdae had disappeared a mere day after your father was thrown in the cells, no word from his lips, no goodbye. You felt alone again, waiting for something to break the quietness.  

-

“Are you ready?”your mother smiled so brightly to you, fingers running over the light blue fabric draping your body. Today was your coronation, the day history would recognize you as the queen. No you weren't ready but you would never be.

“I have to make everything right..”there were tears slipping down your mother’s eyes however, they were tears of pride. She had raised you to be strong and now would you make her home bloom into beautiful flowers.”...and I will until the day I join the earth.”

Cheers echoed around you as the front doors opened, what felt like your whole kingdom standing by your hands. They were there to celebrate the new era and you were there to promise them change. Your mother stood by your side and the second she spoke was the ocean of people silent. The energy around you was buzzing, creeping up your bare arms and settled in your beating heart. A soft breeze moved your hair, let it sail through the sky, and rustle your skirts.

“We are here today to witness a new time sweep on our land, to watch my young daughter become the queen you all are worthy of..”her words echoed around your head, gaze floating on the many faces, some cried, some smiled, but you saw prince Park and his family in the crowd, how they stood by farmers. It made you feel at ease, like everything would be fine, but then were your eyes moving again until they found tourmaline. All colour drained from your face, shock parting your lips. 

Jongdae stared right back at you, a little tilit to his mouth, and around him were more familiar faces. Baekhyun...Baekhyun! Before anyone could react, were you running down the many stairs leading up to the castle, legs stumbling as fast as they could. They were all there! They were all alive! Gasps left the crowd but all you could think of was the people who had stirred your life and the small twitch of Jongdae opening his arms. Tears dropped down your cheeks, a small sob leaving your lips when you collided with Jongdae.

“Welcome our new queen!”and the cheers broke out to your mother’s voice, cheers from everyone around you. You could see Sierra with Sunny on her hip, Minseok and Junmyeon smiling proudly, even Sehun, Jongin and Kyungsoo were there.

“Never leave me like that again!”Jongdae blushed at your outburst, words slipping through the ocean of people, sounding clear over the music. 

“I won't..I..I..”his stuttering was cute and in the swirl of so much happiness, were you kissing him. Everything was right, lips so soft while you were flying in the sky.”..I promise to stay.”

You were all smile, holding him close, until you found Baekhyun watching you sheepishly with bandage around his shoulder. You let Jongdae go so you could crush the light haired male.

“And you! Never scare me like that again!”he smiled, small drops forming in the corners of his eyes. 

Everything felt like a dream but it wasn’t, no this was reality and you couldn't be more euphoric. 

[chowadoe]

posted it on twitter so tumblr gets it too. lo-res sonadow BLAST ✋💥‼️💥‼️💥💥💥💥‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[jeks-tgs]

Don't Lose Your Head AU - Part 7

To say things weren't going well right now was a bit of an understatement.

Frankenstein, true to her word, had immediately taken to charming Robert's grandmother, and much to his horror, the two seemed to be hitting it off. This had sparked an overprotective outburst from the surgeon, who was now bickering the resurrectionist for flirting with his grandmother, the old woman watching the two with amusement. Creature was subjected to staying close by to keep his creator under control, and Henry decided that he should take Robert's advice and go get some fresh air. Alone. Far, far away from all this chaos and tense atmosphere. Maybe he should go explore every acre of the property afterall.

Much to Edward's delight and Henry's chagrin, part of the property was an expansive wetland, where the doctor had to tread carefully or risk getting his foot caught in the murk.

"Isn't this fun, Henry?" His other chirped from inside his chest, and the Scot rolled his eyes. Of course the blond would find tramping through treacherous terrain entertaining.

"About as fun as trying not to drown in mud usually is," He quipped back, only to immediately trip on something. He stumbled, barely managing to catch himself before he fell face first into the cloudy water. For once, his stilts masquerading as legs came in handy; usually, his gangly limbs only made his falls worse. He turned to see what he had struck his foot on, expecting a branch or a root, only to jump a little. "Oh.. poor thing.."

It was the skeleton of a stag, a young one by the looks of it. It was old enough to be picked clean, but not so old it was covered in moss or any other signs of weathering. It must have gotten stuck in the marsh and either died of exhaustion or fallen prey to the elements. A sudden compulsion seized hold of him, and the next thing he knew he was grabbing the spine of the animal and pulling. Surprisingly, it popped free easily, no ribs or chunks attached. It was unusually flexible, hanging down almost like a whip. It felt.. right, to be holding this. Other than being a tad damp, it fit comfortably in his slender grasp, the part he was holding feeling almost like a handle. At Edward's urging, he flicked it, almost dropping it, startled at the satisfying 'crack!' it made in the chilly air. An odd buzzing feeling tickled his skin, a sense of pride entering his chest at the simple action of snapping the spine like a whip.

It was at that moment he heard a panicked whinny.

Henry snapped his head up, looking about as that feeling from earlier in the coach clenched at his insides once more. There. A young mare with fur as black as tar, likely the one that had spooked the coach horses earlier, was struggling, her hooves caught in the mud. If she kept this up, she would exhaust herself and only get stuck worse. Henry quickly made up his mind to help if he could, hurrying over.

"Easy, easy!" He tried to calm the animal as he tucked the hilt of the deer's spine into his belt. The mare calmed, but only enough to stop thrashing, still obviously skittish. Henry smiled softly, standing next to her now. She was massive, her side reaching just above Henry's eyes. He reached out to stroke her neck soothingly, murmuring, "See? I'm not going to hurt—"

His hand stuck to the dark fur like glue. The mare immediately stopped shivering, turning her head, and there was something terrifying in the way she looked at him. She removed her hooves from the mud with little to no effort. Edward barely had time to shriek, "Kelpie!!", before the creature bolted, dragging Henry, forcing him to run alongside her. He held onto his head, terrified of losing it in such a flooded area, only to feel a spike of fear course through him as he saw the large lake up ahead. The kelpie was going to drown him.

Just as this thought entered his mind, the feeling in his gut shifted. As if on autopilot, he let go of his own hair to tangle his fingers into the kelpie's mane. He swung himself up onto its back with ease, though predictably the movement knocked his head loose. He wrenched his stuck hand free, startling the kelpie with this unexpected turn of events, and grabbed hold of his head by the hair. He held it tight to his abdomen, yanking the kelpie's mane, causing the mare to stop, rearing back. She was trying to knock him loose, bucking and rearing, but somehow he stayed on effortlessly, as if made to ride a wild beast like herself. He dug in with his knees to keep himself seated, grabbed the spine still lodged in his belt, and whipped it up into the air.

As the crack rung out the kelpie reared one final time, front legs kicking as she whinnied. Her hooves slammed down into the mud, just on the edge of the lake. Henry was breathing just as hard as she was, heart pounding, green flame roaring from his neck. The fire slowly died down as Edward began to calm. Something inside of Henry slid into place, as if he was finally whole. The whip, the kelpie, and Edward blazing from his neck made him feel complete. An almost euphoric sensation washed over him, and a grin spread across his face, still nestled comfortably in his lap. The grin seemed to stretch from ear to ear, showing off the oddly sharp canines and molars he possessed.

"Edward," He found himself saying, red eyes sparkling. It was quickly growing dark out, not unexpected with the cold weather, and the stars felt as if they were shining extra bright for the occasion. "I must be going crazy.. because all I want to do right now is—"

"Ride as fast we can throughout the countryside?"

"....God, yes."

A crack rung out once more, and they were off. The kelpie's hooves thundered along, and when they reached a stone path, the force of them striking the ground caused sparks to flare up. Edward's green inferno roared back into a frenzy, as wild and untamed as the mare Henry was sat upon. A gate came up ahead, but where Henry would normally feel the need to stop to avoid a nasty impact, he instead smirked, cracking the whip in the air once more, urging his newfound mount to increase in speed. The kelpie happily abliged, seeming just as pleased with her unexpected rider as he was with her. As they neared the gate, it burst open without being touched, as if frightened into parting at the mere sight of the duo (trio, if one knew the flames were actually a seperate entity named Edward Hyde).

Looking back, riding through a town at late dusk when there were likely still people awake was the worst thing he could have done, but in the moment the sound of the kelpie's hooves hitting the cobblestone drowned out any common sense he could have had. It was an adrenaline rush like no other, and when he reached a bronze statue of a man riding atop a rearing horse, he couldn't help but halt his steed, laughing with pure joy as she reared back, mimicking the shiny gold-brown figures in the middle of the town. When her hooves touched back down, he raised his whip, ready to strike the air and take off once more, only to freeze. The smile slowly slid off his face as he finally got a good look at the metal rider, replaced with stunned shock.

The rider was headless, a snarling head tucked under one arm, the other raised in the air with a menacing whip that looked disturbingly like a human spine. He stared, nudging the kelpie to walk closer. Edward's flames grew brighter with awe. He tucked the hilt of the spine into his belt, reaching out with a trembling hand. He pressed his palm to the cool metal, red eyes wide.

---

Abigail Smith was by no means the adventerous type. No, she preferred to spend her days safely tucked away in her father's shop, hammering glowing hot metals into tools and weapons and other useful things. The young blacksmith would then end her day at dusk, head inside, wash up, eat supper, and then go to bed so she could wake up early and get back to doing what she loved. Sadly, a rather snooty old nobleman had barged into the shop, demanding a complicated order finished by tomorrow, and they were the only traditional blacksmith shop left that he knew of, and he wanted the novelty of a traditionally smithed item, and blah blah blah. So, poor Abigail didn't get done working until the sky was already dark and filled with stars. She was just about to head off to bed, maybe not even bother washing up, when she heard a faint cracking sound like a whip, and thunderous, rumbling hoofbeats.

Now, again, Abigail Smith was not the adventurous type, but when the cracking and hoofbeats grew louder, the tragic phenomenon known as 'human curiosity' gripped hold of her, and she couldn't help but step out of her shop. She turned the corner into the town center and nearly fainted at the sight of a headless rider on a black horse, cackling and cracking what she could only assume was a human spine like a whip. She watched as he suddenly paused, tucking his whip away and reaching out to touch the statue that commemorated that time long ago when the townsfolk rallied together and hunted down the last Dullahan nearby, killing the demon right in the middle of the town's center, right where the statue now stood. The green flame from his neck brightened with rage, and it finally clicked in her head that there was a Dullahan right in front of her.

Another well-known fact about Abigail smith was that she had a voice that could make the gods pause in their discussions to listen to what she had to say. As such, she had a scream that could wake the dead, no matter how long ago they were laid to rest. So, when she saw the murderous, beheading demon in front of her, what else was she to do but succumb to fear and scream?

Within seconds, the wicked spirit was surrounded on all sides by angry townsfolk, and it was then and only then that Abigail saw the young face on that severed head, and her stomach began to sink as she recognized the expression on his face;

Pure terror.

[whereisthecd]

Magnolia Riders: SuperM/Saddle Club AU✨

Meet the Magnolia Riders, a high caliber Equestrian Club showcasing some of the best, albeit chaotic, talent in the region. As the winter rest is coming to a close, the high intensity training at Sunset Magnolia Equestrian Center resumes in preparation for the first hunter jumper show of the season. While the team of hardworking goofballs is hoping to get their first group win of the season, their competition seems to be internal with the It Rider™️ on their team creating one storm after another. And then there’s the new guy with a not-so-superstar horse, or so it seems. How will the Magnolia Riders do this season? Will the barn aisle drama subside enough for a win? What’s with this new guy and will he find his way as a Magnolia?

Chapter One: First Bloom

Key Terms This Chapter

Gaits: The different paces in which a horse moves, for example (in order of speed) walk, trot, canter, and gallop. Riders usually jump horses at a trot or canter. Each gait has a different rhythm and movement. 

Mounting Block: A fancy word for a step stool that riders use to step on which helps them get onto their horses, usually to help riders who have horses much taller than them

Line (for jumps): A set of two or more jumps that a rider jumps their horse consecutively. The spacing between the jumps may be different, but the point is that the rider will jump them one after another before moving on in the course

Taeyong stood outside the crimson barn doors, the arch of his back pressed against the metal hinge, grey crumbs of alfalfa dust rubbing onto his bomber jacket. He looked out onto the pastures, stars reflecting down onto shaved meadows. The soft echo of crickets singing their evening hymn drowned out the uneasy rhythm of Taeyong’s heartbeat. His eyes panned down the dirt path that serpentined past the crease of the horizon. 

This is it. Our new home, our last chance. Don’t blow it.

A soft sigh escaped his tiny frame, the gust of his own breath shook his windpipe. Before he had time to inhale, a soft voice sang from behind him.

“Ah, Taeyong!” a small silhouette appeared. A thin man with a slightly bigger build jogged towards him, nearly floating down the barn aisle. His dark eyes lightened through the blonde locks of hair falling over his brow. Now arm’s length apart, Taemin gripped onto Taeyong’s shoulder. 

“Thank you for being here. I know things have been rough, but we - I, want you on this team. If you need anything ever, come to me, okay? This is your barn family now, I promise.” Taemin squeezed Taeyong’s shoulder in a quick beat before bringing his arm back. Taeyong’s soft eyes glanced up at Taemin. A few moments passed before he spoke up.

“Um, of course...I mean, absolutely. Thank you, I really mean it. I don’t want anything to clout your -” 

“Don’t - don’t worry. Just show up, and again, come to me for anything. You’re going to be a great team member. I know it. Now get some rest before tomorrow.” Taemin smiled, trying to reassure Taeyong after interrupting. Taeyong let out a soft smile, slightly creasing his dimples. Taemin nodded and walked towards a gravel path leading to a quaint cottage-like manor. He turned and waved back before marching forward.

Taeyong let out a breath of relief. He had been holding it the entire conversation, making his cheeks transform into cherry blossom petals. He turned back into the barn, walking slowly down the aisle, soaking in the names of each horse as he stepped forward. They were all too distracted by dinner hay to pay any attention to him, except for one, a gentle mare at the beginning of the second stretch of stalls. At the sound of footsteps, a white head covered in smokey grey blotches popped out the stall window, letting a few stray pieces of alfalfa fall from her mouth. Her eyes widened and ears perked forward at the sight of the thin boy before letting out a soft knicker. Taeyong giggled and picked up the bits of hay on the ground.

“Well, this is it, Flower. Here we are,” he said, laying his hand flat under Flower’s mouth as she nuzzled the hay out of his palm. He ran his hand along the side of her neck, tangling his fingers into her salt and peppered mane. 

“I promise I won’t move you again, just back me through this, babe,” he rested his head onto hers for a second before looking back at her. Taeyong stuck his hand into his jacket pocket, fishing around enough to make the wrapper he was digging for crackle. Flower rocked her head back and forth at the noise, suddenly becoming impatient. 

“I know, I know. I’m trying to get it….there!” Taeyong fished out a green tea candy from his pocket and popped it into Flower’s mouth. He patted her one last time before slowly walking back to the barn doors. As he pulled it shut, he paused to look back at his girl down the aisle.

“Tomorrow is a new beginning, let’s make it a good one, goodnight,” he said quietly. Taeyong turned off the barn light and closed the door.

___________

Ten pushed off the mounting block and threw his leg around the saddle, his left hand gripping into Frida’s cropped black mane. Sitting upright in the seat, he always looked like a natural extension of his partner. Their slim yet built frames connected into one, both growing more focused as Ten guided Frida into the arena. It was time for work. Mark followed his brother close behind, Annabelle walking at twice the pace Frida was, her little white legs trying to keep up with her taller counterpart.

Taemin stood in the center of the arena. Though he was petite and only a few years older than the lesson boys, his presence radiated discipline and maturity. Next to him sat the barn dalmation, Moon, equally as disciplined. He had been working all day, yet Taemin’s breeches looked unscathed, and the red vest he wore over his long sleeve shirt only tightened his thin frame. Even though his serious tone radiated through the arena, his soft smile always made the brothers feel at ease.

Ten lined up across from Taemin, with Mark following suit. Next to Taemin stood an unknown paint horse, a calico surprise for the boys in the high-caliber jumper world. Atop sat a thin, quiet  boy seemingly a bit uneasy standing across from the brothers. Meanwhile, Taemin looked down at his watch before flashing his eyes back at the barn. Someone was missing, and while Taemin never wanted a rider to miss out on learning, he had a strict rule about arriving on time. He peered up at Ten and Mark, expecting them to have an answer. Ten snapped quickly hoping to ensure his innocence.

“I don’t know! Things seemed fine when he got here!” Ten pleaded. Taemin let out a chuckle and shook his head before looking back at his clock. Ten breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at Mark with rosy cheeks, thankful that his name was cleared under Taemin’s standards. 

“I’m sure he’ll be here! Let’s just get started, I can feel Annabelle getting anxious and it’s making me nervous,” Mark nervously chuckled before gripping his reins tighter. 

“Jesus Mark just breathe, she’s fine,” Ten jabbed before looking back at Taemin. Ten prided himself in being the teacher’s pet, nearly gloating it in front of the stranger in the arena.

“Alright let’s just get started. Y’all this is Taeyong, he’s going to be a new addition to the Magnolia Riders. Please welcome him and Flower to our team, I know they will make us all proud,” Taemin gestured for Taeyong to join the boys in line. Mark shot Taeyong an uneasy yet comforting smile from the other end of the line, but before Ten could add any sort of snarky remark, a commotion exited the barn. 

“Come on! God dammit, Gus!” cried a tall muscular figure desperately trying to jog into the arena, using all his weight to pull the giant grey horse behind him. Out of all the Magnolia Riders, he looked the most unorthodox. His football player-like frame seemed to explode in the tight elastic of his breeches and his 20 year old energy, while determined, radiated comedy over equestrian. However, he was still an avid rider, and more than qualified for the Riders a couple years back. The boy pushed his helmet into the proper position on his head before throwing his body over the horse and desperately kicking him forward. Tail swishing, the horse stubbornly trotted into the arena. Ten and Taemin both let out sighs.

“Lucas what could have possibly happened?” Ten asked, his voice slightly raised over Mark’s loud giggles.

“He wouldn’t come out of his stall!” Lucas whined, forcing his horse into line with the rest of them. Taemin noticed one of Gus’s protective boots slightly hanging off his hoof. He leaned down and adjusted it before patting the horse’s neck.

“Well I am glad you and Augustus made it. Next time, text me for assistance. I’d rather you ask for help than be late,” Taemin smiled at Lucas before being introduced to Taeyong. The two boys waved at each other across the line before returning their stares back at Taemin, now walking to the line of jumps in the center of the arena. Moon followed close behind.  Taeyong noticed the militant attention given to their instructor, which seemed polar opposite to the energy Taemin expressed to his students. Taeyong sat calmly, relaxing his shoulders to soak in as much as he could. 

“Today, we are practicing lines. Our spring show is less than two months away, and we know this was something that made us stumble last season,” Taemin began, now walking towards the boys. 

“I want each of you to warm up, put your horses through the gaits each way, trot and canter. Then we will practice some exercises before doing the line one at a time. I want to see heals down, a firm leg, give your teammate their head as they get over the jump. Mark and Lucas, I need you to count your strides out loud. And lastly, let’s have some fun. Happy training season!” Taemin motioned towards the center of the arena before sitting on the mounting block. As Taeyong went to urge Flower forward, Ten briskly moved Frida by.

“You better learn to keep up, I’m not letting anyone ruin our chances this year, especially new people,” Ten snarked. Taeyong could sense the concern and insecurity in Ten’s voice, but he couldn’t help but let the words sting. Taeyong took a deep breath and continued forward, hoping to just keep to himself the rest of the lesson.

Taemin sat admiring his students riding around the perimeter. He was always quick to teach, whether that was encouraging Mark to soften his hands on the reins, or reminding Ten that relaxing his shoulders will make him a show champion. Even though his students were only a bit younger than him, his near-Olympic history gave him the responsibility to bring these riders to greatness. 

Taeyong rode comfortably along the perimeter, matching Flower’s stride along Gus’s. He tried not to make too much fuss as to not disturb Lucas, but what he didn’t know was that Lucas was dying to have another buddy in the arena with him.

“Hey man, I heard what Ten said to you. Don’t mind him, he’s easily the best rider here, it’s just...complicated. But wow, I’ve never seen a paint horse in the ring, she seems super cool! Also uh, I’m sorry for delaying the lesson. Gus here is a good boy he just likes to pick on me.” Taeyong laughed at Lucas’s candor, the boys nearly in sync as their horses trotted through the back end of the arena. 

“Thanks, Flower’s a great girl, she’s just misunderstood. It’s what drew me to her in the first place,” Taeyong nodded at Lucas before extending Flower into a canter. Ahead of him was Ten managing Frida. He sat so quietly as his mare began to let out little bucks.

“That’s alright, Ten. Just hold your seat and let her figure it out,” Taemin coached from the middle. Meanwhile, Mark flew around the ring with Annabelle, seemingly letting her take the lead. She wasn’t an old lesson pony, but she was seasoned. Mark’s naivety was easy for her to take advantage of, and Mark didn’t seem to mind one bit. At times, Mark could easily be mistaken for a younger rider, even at the age of 20. His abilities were strong, but his confidence got the best of him at times. However, he and Annabelle had the longest history in the group. Luckily for him, his height never outgrew the large pony. After a few minutes of warm up and random tasks from Taemin, it was time to put in the real work. 

“Alright one by one, remember what I asked of you. I believe in you all.”

Mark, being first in line, urged Annabelle forward. He gripped onto the reins tighter. Riding wasn’t his profession, but it was a great way to make friends and build confidence, or so he hoped. After a quick circle of cantering to get Annabelle ready, Mark began counting his strides, eyeing the jumps. 

“Yes, Mark! One! Two! Three! Four! One! Two! Wait, alright slow her down! Mark, slow her down! Okay pull her in! Mark!” Taemin anxiously urged him, staying calm as he watched Annabelle blow through the jumps and take off down the other end of the arena. Mark bounced back and forth like a toddler careening off course in a PF flyer. Taeyong watched in horror, assuming the worst with nothing but fence in Annabelle’s way. Ten on the other hand, shook his head in disappointment, while Lucas let out giant bellows of laughter as they watched Annabelle skid to a stop at the distant wood fence. Mark hunched over in relief, walking his wild pony back into line.

“Whoa, guys. I wasn’t ready for that,” he said nervously before laughing. Even as an apprehensive rider, he still trusted Annabelle beyond her antics. Taemin smiled and shook his head, relieved his rider was alright. He then looked up at Lucas, signaling his turn to urge Gus forward. This pair may have been a walking circus act, but Taemin knew deep down they both wanted to please. He sat back and watched the two move forward, keeping quiet this time. Lucas squeezed Gus, proving he knew what to do. Gus obliged and set his focus on the jumps ahead. 

Taeyong’s impression of Lucas in the first few minutes of the lesson was no match for what he was seeing now. The duality of the athlete on the grey horse nearly gave him whiplash. Lucas was now in perfect form, counting his strides and eyeing the end of the line. Gus’s stride widened, and Taeyong knew when these two were on, they were the smartest duo in the ring. With minimal effort, Lucas and Gus flew over the first jump, nailing the stride coming onto jump two. Taemin was equally as impressed.

“Yes, nice! Lucas that is - oh shit” Taemin’s praise was too good to be true. In an instant Gus’s laser focus was lost as he tripped coming into jump three. Instead of careening over the final jump, the giant grey lug crashed into the poles nearly catapulting Lucas out of his seat, his upper body collapsing on Gus’s neck. His own mistake caught Gus by surprise, causing him to let out a buck before halting immediately, throwing Lucas back into the saddle. All Lucas could do was turn back and look at his instructor with blank eyes and a nervous smile.

“Well, the first two were beautiful,” Taemin uneasily reassured him. Lucas walked his trusty steed back into line. All he could do at this point was give his boy a few reassuring pets and thank Christ that he didn’t fall off. 

Before his name was even called, Ten was moving Frida forward. He knew he was the top student in this lesson, and it was known by everyone else. Riding had been his dream since he was four years old. Now, at 23, he was feeling like his dream was overdue. He had been Taemin’s student for a few years now, but unbeknownst to him, Taemin had been Ten’s idol since he was a teen. All he wanted to do was please Taemin, but he also wanted to prove himself to the rest of the horse world. If anything, today was the day to prove to his instructor, and the new kid, that he was the rider to beat. Ten urged Frida faster, her stride nearly floating over the floor of the arena. Ten floated on top of her as well, his legs as strong as a linebacker, but his body poised like a ballerina’s. 

“Yes good, keep your shoulders relaxed, eye’s forward. Keep your leg on her,” Taemin shouted. He knew these two were a show-winning match, as long as Ten didn’t let his confidence get the best of him. With nearly no effort, Frida cleared all three jumps. Ten loosened his rein’s in preparation for Frida to throw her head in excitement, he knew his partner too well, and she knew she did a good job.

“Yes, Ten! That is the standard I want to see every time. Nice work!” Taemin came up and patted Ten’s leg, sending him into giddiness only Mark and Lucas could notice. “Alright, Taeyong. Last but certainly not least, show us what you got.” 

Taemin’s soft eyes reassured Taeyong. He knew everyone would be watching, whether it was Lucas and Mark hoping for a solid teammate, or Ten looking for mistakes. Taking an extra loop around the arena, Taeyong tried to calm his nerves. Flower seemed unbothered by the new arena and her rider’s uneasiness, competition was fun for her. She picked up her pace hoping to provide some confidence for Taeyong, which he allowed. As they rounded the corner to the line of jumps set diagonally through the arena, Taeyong focused between Flower’s ears at the crimson fence peering past the last jump. Eyes focused, his small legs gripped to the sides of the saddle, they took off. 

Flower sailed over each jump with ease, even lengthening her strides into the final jump. What was normally supposed to be three strides, Flower did in two. While not necessary, Taeyong patted her neck with acceptance. He knew his girl could do it. 

“Wow! Even shortening the strides! Next time, try to keep her at three, but what an impressive first run. Y’all we have a competitor on our hands!” Taemin cheered. Ten let out a small huff, knowing he wasn’t the top dog of today’s lesson, while the other boys shot thumbs up in Taeyong’s direction. He didn’t want to be the star of the show, but he could at least fit in with his teammates enough to stick around. The boys ran through the line a few more times before cooling down for the day.

“Nice work everyone! We have some things to improve on but I am continuously impressed with you all. I’ll see you for our lesson tomorrow, and we can talk more about the annual bake sale,” Taemin said before sending his riders to the barn. The boys all walked in a group of four back to the stables, taking turns railing Lucas for his stunt with Gus, and talking about the upcoming season. As they entered the barn, they noticed a beautiful blonde boy hovering in the arm of the muscular stable hand, Kai. Kai was the eyes and ears of the barn, and a nice view to admire, but desperately quiet. However he was quite chatty with the polished boy in high-end breeches and a black turtleneck. Before long, the boy noticed the Riders coming into the barn and left Kai’s side.

“Well look who it is, ahh if it isn’t my esteemed teammates. Oh look what we have here. My, it’s a circus pony, never seen one of those in Taemin’s ring before, isn’t that cute,” he sneered in Taeyong’s direction. Taeyong had no idea who this boy was, but he was already turned off by his candor. Before Taeyong could respond, the boy waltzed by, slamming his shoulder into Taeyong’s. As he glided past the boys and out the barn, he turned back and glared at Ten.

“Hello number two, glad to see you’re enjoying your title,” he said before turning towards the pastures out of view. Ten huffed and clenched his fists into a ball. Taeyong looked back at him.

“Who the fuck is that guy?” he asked, seeing no need to filter his words after the rage that came from the blonde boy’s insults. Ten’s face now flushed, he took a pause before responding. 

“That’s Baekhyun, our fucking teammate.” 

[caroldanversmohawk]

First Date - A Quidditch Captain Danvers oneshot

Summary: Carol Danvers and Natasha Romanoff have their first date, in secret on the Hogwarts grounds

Also for @carolnatweek‘s CarolNat Halloween week Prompts Day 4: Hogwarts AU.

—-

Carol had been distracted all day about what she was going to do for her date tonight. She didn’t even know Natasha Romanoff. What did Slytherins even like anyway? It was hard for her to come to terms with the fact that she actually wanted to impress this girl. But she did, and had no idea how she was going to do it.

It wasn’t until after her Transfigurations class that she had an idea. She’d just be herself. Her Quidditch star, irresistible self.

Carol stood at the base of the lake nervously, hands in the pockets of her robe. She stood tall, refusing to show her trepidation, in case some beautiful red-haired Slytherin decided not to stand her up. Carol tried not to feel like she was being watched as she waited. She was glad that she had picked out a freshly clean set of robes. She had even looked in the mirror before leaving the dorms. Her hair was its usual, blonde mess with a slight curl, always looking a little wind-blown. Just the way Carol liked it. But she thought her most striking feature was her cocky smirk. That was what had earned her the kiss the first time they met. And it was the one she was wearing now.

“You showed up,” Natasha’s amused tone made Carol turn to see her emerging from the darkness.

“I could say the same to you,” Carol’s nerves suddenly quieted, completely focused on the girl in front of her.

“I was curious.” Natasha shrugged, stopping a few meters away from her. The two of them took each other in, neither of them sure what to say next. Natasha was scrutinizing every detail down to Carol’s shoes and Carol was just memorizing Natasha’s face, too enamored to look further.

“So,” Carol tried to break the silence, “you ever been on a broom before, Romanoff?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at her, “You know all first years take a flying lesson, Danvers.”

It was Carol’s turn to shrug, “I didn’t know if you found a way out of it. You’re pretty persuasive, from what I hear.”

“Mmm, is that what you hear?” Natasha took a step closer, tone a little dry. “So are you here to insult me or were you trying to get me on your broom, Danvers?”

Carol didn’t respond to Natasha, instead she took out her wand and pointed it toward the forest, where she had hid her broom earlier. “Accio Comet Two Ninety.” Natasha didn’t flinch as the broom came whizzing into Carol’s hand. Her mouth did twitch into the beginnings of a smile.

“Neat trick,” she commented evenly, much to Carol’s delight.

“Want to see what it’s like to really fly?” Carol straddled her broom, leaving space on the back for Natasha.

Natasha was shaking her head as she closed the distance between her and Carol, getting onto the broom behind her. “You’re really going for the cliches, aren’t you Danvers?” Carol was about to respond when Natasha wrapped her arms tightly around her waist, fitting her body to Carol’s back, nuzzling her chin on Carol’s shoulder, “Alright, show me what you can do, baby.” Carol decided then that she was done with words–not that she remembered how to form any.

She pushed off from the ground, her Comet Two Ninety not quite as nimble as usual with two riders on it. But it was impressive enough as Carol brought it up to speed, whizzing through the treetops as she did. She expected Natasha to react, at least cling to her tighter, but the girl behind her was unphased. Carol decided that just meant she needed to show off more.

She dipped the broom slightly, swinging it around to drop into the forest, where she weaved through the trees at a blinding speed. Still no reaction. If anything, Carol would say that Natasha was comfortably nuzzling her, cuddling casually like she wasn’t flying on a broom going faster than the Hogwarts Express. Carol sighed, slightly annoyed but also very turned on by Natasha’s stoic nonchalance to Carol’s antics. She brought the broom into a climb until they soared above the castle, getting them to a beautiful view of the flickering candles and shimmering lake below them. Carol gave Natasha a moment to take it in before pushing the limits of her broom again, wrapping around the castle spired, banking along the brick walls.

Natasha finally chuckled in her ear, “Are you trying to scare me, Danvers? I thought you wanted to impress me?”

Carol was nearly breathless in her reply. From the wind and from Natasha’s flirtatious tone. “Is this not impressing you?” Carol asked as she weaved around another one of the castle spires. “You really trust me this much already, Romanoff?”

“Not to be suicidal? Sure.” Carol’s responding laugh was caught by the wind. “Plus, I could take control any time.”

“Wha–” Carol’s question wasn’t even out of her mouth before the broom veered down, not by her doing. She yanked it back into a more even trajectory before pulling away from the castle, out toward more open air. That was when her broom decided to do a wide loop…one that went straight up so they were momentarily upside down. Carol held onto the broom tightly, even though they were at a speed where they wouldn’t fall off. When they were level again, she tried to turn to see the girl behind her. “What–how are you–”

Her words were cut off by Natasha’s lips, her arms around Carol’s waist tightening. “You’re distracted,” Natasha whispered against Carol’s lips as she pulled away. And the broom bucked into another dive. This time Carol openly laughed.

“Are you trying to get us killed?” Carol panted, fixing the broom’s path once more. It was like trying to steady a bucking horse. Or what she imagined it would be like.

“Nah, I trust your flying skills, Danvers. I hear you’re going to be Captain next year.” Natasha murmured in Carol’s ear. Carol decided that she really liked the idea of this broom ride after all. If nothing but to have Natasha so cozied up to her, taunting her in her ear. Even if it wasn’t turning out to impress the girl as much as she had expected.

“If I live that long,” Carol threw back over her shoulder, fighting Natasha as the broom suddenly banked to the side. Carol laughed again. “You’re insane. And I love it.” Carol got the broom back under control. “Can we land now so I can kiss you?”

Natasha chuckled in her ear again, “I dunno. I’m kind of enjoying this…”

Carol squirmed slightly, pressing her body tighter against Natasha. “It’s cool. I think I’m getting used to it anyway–” her last word turned into a yelp as the broom nosedived again.

[nitewrighter]

Reidan Fairy Tale AU Pt. 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

The finale! Hunts will be Wilded. Shapes will be shifted. Boons will granted. Precious stones will be vomited up for some reason. And (hopefully) happily-ever-afters will be had.

----

The great and terrible horn sounded again and Rei covered her ears. Even the standing stones in the clearing shook, moss tumbling off of them at the rubling of the horn.

“The Wild Hunt,” Rei repeated, looking at the darkening moon, “Of course!” A few seconds’ pause passed before she said, “And what’s the Wild Hunt?”

“My best chance of getting free of my mother,” said Aedan, “If I can out-ride the Dullahan, he’ll grant me a boon.”

“Outride a headless specter of death,” said Rei, “Simple enough.”

“Then we’d better get out of the woods,” said Hanzo, looking to Rei, “It’s likely not safe for humans—”

He was cut off by the sound of baying hounds a ways past the tree line. It sounded wrong though, not the bark of a loyal hound, but something unsettlingly clear and semi- conversational, like orders being relayed via barks.

“My father’s search party?” said Rei, looking to Hanzo.

“That doesn’t sound like our hounds…” said Hanzo.

A massive black shape with two white eyes like cold distant starts pushed itself through the trees. A ruby red tongue lolled between star-white teeth in a great gaping maw beneath a twitching nose.

“Definitely not one of our hounds,” said Rei, backing up slightly.

“Yes, that would be one of Mum’s,” said Aedan.

The black hound sniffed the air and its head turned sharply toward Rei. It let out a wailing howl and the distant baying of hounds suddenly quieted.

“Oh no…” Aedan said quietly. His eyes flicked down to the black ponytail he still hadn’t let go of since breaking the spell on Rei. He threw it, at the hound’s feet and instantly the hound pounced upon it and tore at the tangled mass of hair until it was nothing.

“…well they have your scent,” said Aedan.

Instinctively Rei brought up the black glass dagger of his she was still carrying from the cave, and the hound bristled at the sight of it. Aedan snapped his fingers and the dagger disappeared from Rei’s hand.

“Hey!” said Rei.

“This is not a fight you can win,” said Aedan.

“Fae,” said Hanzo, “Get her out of here.”

“Uncle—!” Rei started in protest.

“He’ll be faster and I’m not their target,” said Hanzo, “I’ll meet you at the edge of the wood.”

“You’ll have to ride me,” said Aedan.

“I’m sorry—what?” said Rei as Aedan took the form of a great white stag with a red-dappled flank, “Oh—Oh you meant—-Right.” She clambered up astride him and he took off in a swift run through the trees.

Rei wrapped her arms around his neck as he galloped, when suddenly her eyes widened.

“Wait!” she said.

‘What?” said Aedan.

“The hunt! You said the Wild Hunt was your only chance at being free of your mother.”

“Winning the Wild Hunt means nothing if you die in the process,” said Aedan, “I need to get you out of the woods and safe—”

“We are not giving up on that Hunt!” Rei took hold of his antlers, “Aedan, please!”

The terrible horn of the Wild Hunt sounded once more.

“It’s dangerous…” Aedan said quietly.

“Then we’ll stay together,” said Rei, stroking a hand down his neck, she bent and planted a gentle kiss on the side of the stag’s head, “And we’ll win it. Together.”

Aedan craned his neck to look at her--dark hair cut blunt just past her chin, the torn skirt of her white gown, and those eyes, as bright and fierce as ever, before turning his glance to the sky. “Hold on tight,” he said. He felt Rei’s bare legs tighten at his flank and her hands brace themselves at his neck as he turned around and took off in a far faster gallop than before. They crossed into a clearing and Rei kept her eyes fixed skyward as what looked like great black clouds formed overhead. Then there was a loud crack and suddenly a massive black horse and headless rider burst out from the mass of black clouds, galloping across the sky. The headless rider brandished a bright yellow lantern, and a white-boned whip made from a human spine.

“The Dullahan,” said Aedan, watching as the great black stallion galloped across the night sky and a great company of ghosts and goblins and Unseelie followed behind him in a roiling and cackling cortège, “He’s the one we need to outride.”

“But how are we supposed to get up there?” said Rei as Aedan leapt over some tree roots on the forest floor.

“Hold on tight,” said Aedan.

“You’ve said that already,” said Rei.

“Worth reiterating,” said Aedan as he suddenly leapt upward, rebound off a tree trunk then pounced off of a high bough and they both burst through the forest canopy in an explosion of leaves. Rei looked down to see Aedan’s silver hooves dancing across the the top of canopy of the forest as if it were a carpet of leaves beneath them.

“How--?!” she managed, as he galloped.

“Prince,” said Aedan and Rei smiled. 

The Wild Hunt was still far and above them, but there came a snarling from behind them. Rei looked over her shoulder to see several massive black shapes burst out from the canopy and sprinting behind them. The Queen’s hounds. They could outpace them, but Rei looked ahead to see the treeline of the woods.

“Aedan!” she cried out in alarm as they neared what was a sheer cliff of trees, but Aedan only ratcheted up his speed and leapt off from the tree line, soaring through the air. Rei squinted her eyes shut and squeezed him tight, fearing the fall and bracing for impact, but there was none. She opened one eye, then both, and found the ground was far beneath them.

“How--!?” she blurted out again.

“Fairy,” said Aedan, picking up speed. They found themselves at the very back of the hunt’s procession, though the slowest of the group were far from slow.

“Whotsat you got there, Princeling?” said a goblin, riding atop a goat skeleton.

“Seems you got a clinger!” another cackled.

“You’ll never catch up to the Death-Lord with her weighing you down!” a third called as he swept past on a massive crow.

“Cast her off!” jeered the first, “Cast her off!”

Aedan felt Rei’s weight shift on his back. “Rei--don’t--”

“Cast her---!”the first goblin got a white silken slippered foot in his face and tumbled off from his skeletal goat mount as Rei regained her position on Aedan’s back from the kick.

“Oh she’s got some fight in her!” said the second goblin, pulling in closer on his crow.

“Aedan--Dagger,” said Rei.

“I’ll do you one better,” said Aedan. A sword of black glass formed itself from the shadows of the air and Rei took hold of the hilt, then swung it at the goblin closing in.

“Cheat!” spat the goblin at them both as its crow swept out of the way, “Nasty cheats, both of you! You’re still not fast enough!”

A loud screech sounded through the air and suddenly a sparrowhawk divebombed the crow from above.

“Gin!” Rei cried in delight as the goblin swung at her little sparrowhawk with his sickle, but was thrown off by the crow’s own evasions and his own thrashings.

The sparrowhawk screeched victoriously and glided alongside them.

“You do always find me, don’t you?” said Rei, grinning, “Come on!” she called to the sparrowhawk as Aedan charged forward through the maelstrom of ghosts and Unseelie faeries.

---

Hanzo broke out from the treeline and buckled over to catch his breath, his quiver heavy on his back. The hounds had left him alone for the most part, but the sprint through the woods had been harrowing. It seemed every nasty little creature of the shadows was being called up from the earth, and drifting skyward to the terrible hunt overhead.

“Hanzo!” Genji called out to his brother and rode his horse over, swinging off of it to approach him, “You were late to the regroup--”

“We found Rei,” said Hanzo, clapping a hand on Genji’s shoulder, “She’s alive and well.”

Genji let out a sigh of relief and embraced him, “This is wonderful news!” he said, his smile stretching the scars on his face before he broke out of the embrace, “Where is she? Where is my daughter?”

“When we rescued her, The Fae’s mother set her hounds upon us. I sent her off with him,” said Hanzo.

“Trusting the prince alone with Rei?” Genji folded his arms, “Seems you’ve had a change of heart towards him.”

“He is... devoted to her,” said Hanzo, “I have faith he’ll keep her safe.”

It was then that a loud and terrible horn sounded and the two brothers brought their eyes upward to see the Wild Hunt tearing across the sky--a great flock of skeletons and ghouls and fae, laughing and chasing after a headless rider at its front.

“Well that’s not good,” said Genji, “We should reunite with the prince and Rei quickly, and get back to--” He cut himself off as a blaze of white made itself visible from the pack of shadowy beings. A girl, with dark hair in a white dress, atop a white stag with a red-dappled flank, shouting and swinging a crystalline black sword at any goblin or demon that came too close to her.

“...Rei?” Genji spoke, bewildered.

“...Don’t tell Angela,” said Hanzo, hopping astride Genji’s horse.

“Hey!” Genji protested as Hanzo rode off.

“I’m a better shot than you!” Hanzo shouted back at Genji as he rode off after the hunt.

---

The Hunt ran on for hours into the small hours of the morning. Rei’s stomach and sides and legs ached and burned from the exhaustion of riding, though adrenaline kept her blood afire, and poor Aedan, himself gifted with the strength and stamina of the Fae, was foaming at the mouth with exhaustion. But by speed and sword and antlers and force of will and luck they found themselves only just behind the Dullahan, the iron-black hooves of his horse making a thunderous sound despite only galloping on air.

“We’re almost there!” Rei shouted, running her hand down Aedan’s neck to encourage him, “Just a little further! We’re almost there--ah!” she ducked as the human spine whip of the Dullahan swept over them both. 

“No,” a voice that sounded like tree boughs groaning in a storm surged up around them, and suddenly there came the sound of a baying of a hundred hounds. Rei looked over her shoulder to see dozens of the black dogs from earlier surging behind them, mouths foaming, star-white teeth and eyes glinting, red tongues lolling, a sea of shadow and teeth. At the very center of this roiling mass was the Queen. Rei gasped at the sight of her. She was beautiful, terrifying, clad in black glass armor with a grand antlered helm, atop a hound that was three times as large as every other dog in the pack--not pure black, but oaken black, the sinews of its muscles like the gnarled roots of trees.

“You’ll not take him!” the queen shouted, clawing out a gauntleted hand toward Rei. Rei shrieked and smacked her hand away with the black glass sword, only to flinch away from a hound that had flanked them and snapped at her.

“Stop it!” Aedan cried, knocking back one hound from Rei with his antlers, “Leave her alone!”

“Aedan! End this folly and I’ll spare her life!” shouted the queen.

“Don’t listen to her!” shouted Rei, trying to keep both the queen and the hounds at bay with only her sword, “You wanted to be free! I can do this! Just push ahead of the Dullahan! We’re so close!” Another hound snapped at her and she punched it in the nose before slashing the sword again to keep the other hounds back. “You can do this!” Rei shouted as Aedan continued sprinting forward, “We can do this! We can--Augh!” a hound had bit into her upper arm while her sword was mid-wing.

“Rei!” Aedan shouted and nearly stopped when suddenly an arrow pierced the throat of the hound biting Rei and with a yelp it released her arm from its grasp.

“What?” Aedan looked down to see Rei’s uncle on horseback, chasing after the Wild Hunt and nocking another arrow.

“Keep pushing forward!” Hanzo shouted to him.

“Rei--” Aedan started.

Rei’s hand came away bloody from the wound on her upper arm, “I’ll be fine,” she said, leaving a bloody handprint on his neck.

Another hound leapt for them only to yelp as an arrow hit that one in the leg. It fell back to lick its wounds.

“Uncle, be careful!” Rei shouted down to Hanzo.

“I could very well say the same to you!” Hanzo shouted back.

“Stinking humans!” the Queen snapped, “You dare fire upon my hounds!? I’ll tear you limb from limb! I’ll tear your whole damned family tree up from the roots! You will know oblivion! Yours is a world of dust and ash and I will not allow you to take my--GAH!”

Gin the Sparrowhawk suddenly swept in and furiously pecked and clawed at her face, screeching. The queen tumbled back, angrily clawing out at the sparrowhawk and raging and railing as it beat her with its wings.

“Gin!” Rei cried out in alarm, but Aedan saw the hounds falling back to help the queen and suddenly surged forward. One last stubborn, desparate hound opened its great maw at his angles, only to get a hoof to the face and give Aedan just enough of something to push off of to leap ahead. He charged forward and for a brief few seconds time seemed to slow. Rei looked up at the Dullahan, he and his horse towering over her and Aedan in his white stag form, looking about as bewildered as one without a head can look.

 The massive black horse reared as the white stag cut ahead of it, and the horn of the Wild Hunt sounded one last time. The company of the Wild Hunt seemed to disperse as they had come, dissolving like storm clouds. Rei, Aedan, and the Dullahan and his horse descended to the earth together. As soon as Aedan’s hooves touched down on the ground he retook the form of a man and collapsed with Rei on top of him, both of them panting with exhaustion.

“So you have outridden me,” said the Dullahan, swinging off of his great and terrible black horse and landing on the ground, “So you have the boon of the hunt.”

“Finally,” said Aedan, still trying to catch his breath and stumbling to his feet, helping Rei stand up as well, “Dullahan—“

“Not you,” said the Dullahan, “I realize the whole ‘missing head’ thing makes it difficult to tell who I’m talking to, but you are not the winner, Princeling,” the Dullahan pointed to Rei, “She is.”

“I don’t understand—” Aedan started.

“Simple,” said the Dullahan. “You were the steed, not the rider.”

“So I can just make the wish for Aedan!” said Rei.

“Or you can make the wish for yourself,” said the Dullahan, “The boon of the Wild Hunt is an ancient magic, from long before the court split into Seelie and Unseelie. You could wish for anything in your realm or ours. The power you hold is even greater than—-”

“Stop this farce at once!” a clear voice cut through the air and the Queen swept into the company with her hounds prowling and baying around her.

“…hers,” said the Dullahan.

“You wold give the boon of the Wild Hunt to a human!?” snarled the Queen.

“I would give it to the winner,” said the Dullahan.

“You would give her the power to destroy us!” said the Queen.

“I haven’t given her much reason to destroy me,” said the Dullahan, “You, on the other hand---”

“Do you know what she wishes for!?” the Queen, seething. She took a bloody mass of feathers and hurled it at the ground between Rei and the Dullahan.

“Gin!” Rei fell to her knees at the sight of her Gin’s remains. She took the dead sparrowhawk up into her arms, staining the front of her dress red as tears ran down her face.

“Death!” said the Queen, “She wishes for death for my son like the horrible selfish little creature she is!”

“That’s enough!” Aedan snapped. 

The Queen’s head jerked toward him and her brow crinkled. “I won’t let her take you,” the Queen’s eyes were fierce, cold, wet with tears.

“You’ve already lost me,” said Aedan.

The Queen’s mouth tightened. “You’re a fool,” she said coldly, “You would choose misery and death over eternity and power.”

“I would choose freedom and love,” said Aedan.

“Love!?” the queen snarled, “What of the love I bore for you!? I, who shaped you from the last of the Godswood birch trees and precious jewels! I, who named you my heir!” 

“You only love me as you love yourself!” shouted Aedan, “You only love me as an extension of your will!”

“WHICH YOU ARE, BECAUSE I AM YOUR QUEEN!” the Queen roared back.

“You’re not a queen! You’re a monster!” Rei set her dead sparrowhawk down and sprang to her feet.

“Silence!” the Queen snapped, “Forfeit your boon, little rat. If you have any love for my Prince, you will forfeit your boon and vow never to see him again. If you continue in this idiocy, I vow to make your life a waking nightmare for you and everyone who ever loves you.”

“Never!” snapped Rei, “You don’t know what love is! All you know is power and tricking people and clinging to people and crushing them when they don’t do what you want! I--I wish you’d leave us alone and find someone else to bully!” The second the last outburst escaped Rei’s lips she slapped her hands over her mouth. Aedan felt a weight drop in his stomach. A very quiet, “Oh no...” escaped Rei and her eyes flicked to the Dullahan, “That--that wasn’t it--that didn’t count--”

“It counted,” said the Dullahan plainly.

���Wait--No, that’s not fair, I wasn’t even talking to you--I---” Rei looked at Aedan her eyes brimming with tears, “I’m sorry--I’m so sorry...”

The Queen looked at her hands confusedly, as if the “i wish you’d leave us alone’ part of the wish should cause some great transformation to her, yet she seemed unchanged.

The ground suddenly rumbled beneath their feet.

“What was that?” said Rei.

“You wished for someone else fo her to bully,” said the Dullahan.

“What does that---” Rei started and then she suddenly made a choking noise and buckled over as the earth rumbled again.

“Rei!?” Aedan was at her side in an instant, “Rei, what’s wrong?!” He looked to the Dullahan, “What did you do to her!?”

“This is the boon of the Wild Hunt,” said the Dullahan.

Aedan would have protested further but suddenly a great white birch sprang fully formed from the earth, towering over them all.

“What...?” The Queen’s eyes widened as she stepped around the birch in awe, “I haven’t seen a birch like this since... since...”

“Rei!” Aedan’s arms was around Rei’s shoulders as she suddenly vomited up two small, rough-hewn gems. A blood-red garnet and a deep blue sapphire. 

“Ugh....” Rei wiped her mouth.

“Get away from those!” said the Queen, lunging forward and snatching up the gems.

“Hey!” Rei protested but Aedan gently pulled her to her feet alongside him. He watched as the queen looked from the two jewels in her hand to the newly sprung up birch tree. She put her hand up against the tree. Aedan understood immediately what was happening.

“We should leave her,” said Aedan.

“Are you sure?” said Rei.

“This is as good a chance as we’re going to get,” said Aedan.

“Princeling,” the Dullahan spoke up, “Before you go.”

“What?” said Aedan.

The Dullahan gave Aedan a hard swat upside the head.

“Ow!” Aedan flinched, “What was that!?”

“Mortality,” said the Dullahan, “A gift and a cost unto itself. And one I can give freely to you, now that the Queen has someone new to bully.”

“Someone new?” said Rei, “I don’t get it--it’s only a tree and...” Aedan wrapped a hand around hers and she trailed off, noticing his fingers, white as birch. “She’s not going to--” Rei started but Aedan kissed her forehead.

 “Let’s go home,” he said, “Get that arm of yours patched up.”

Rei nodded and picked up the body of her poor sparrowhawk. The two of them walked away from the Queen, the Dullahan, and the great white birch. A ways away they were reunited with Hanzo, who hugged Rei, and fussed over her arm, and then he brought her home to her parents who also hugged Rei and fussed over her arm. Aedan helped Rei bury her sparrowhawk in the kitchen garden and they held each other for a long time out in the gray dawn light. Then Aedan felt an exhaustion surge up from his bones from all the events and Rei’s parents allowed him to stay in a spare room in their manor house. Sleep had never meant much to the Fae, but the first sleep Aedan ever had was deep and dark and warm.

 Aedan’s pointed ears stayed, a memory of where he came from,  but as the years passed, he saw his freckles fade slightly and saw his cheekbones stick out more and his shoulders go broader. No longer did the scent of metal sicken him, no longer could he hear the voices of animals, or take their shape.  A gift and a cost, unto itself. Still, that mattered little. The hounds of the estate and the falcons in their mews needed little words to express their affection. The world was no longer a contained and crumbling thing---of ancient empires and the graves of kings hidden away in the woods, but now a great and open place. Rei’s family soon grew to love him as one of their own, and he became a fixture of the estate just as much of the rest of the family, no longer a Prince, but loved and respected by those he came to love and respect himself. He and Rei traveled the world together. They traveled to great craggy mountains and windmill dotted hills and warm coasts with white crashing waves. They learned new languages and danced at great parties and spent warm quiet evenings reading while all tangled up in each other. And they were happy. They were truly, deeply happy.

-----

One day a good number of years later, two children, a boy and a girl, with bright eyes and hair as dark and red as claret ran through the woods, laughing and chasing each other as their sparrowhawks dipped and weaved around each other overhead.

“Not too far, now,” their father called after them.

“Will you take us to the standing stones, Father?” said the little girl, walking across a felled log with her arms spread out on either side of her.

“Perhaps the spring?”  said the little boy.

“We’ll have to see,” said Aedan, glancing over at his wife. He watched her unwrap a small cake from a kerchief and place it in the hollow of a tree. He smiled. Old habits died hard, it seemed. Rei’s eyes flicked up from the cake to him and she gave a little smile as she pushed her raven hair back from her face.

“Father, look!” the little girl cried, and he broke his eyes away from his wife to see a pale shape in the distance.

“Stay close,” said Aedan, stepping next to them. He squinted as the pale shape moved out from behind the ferns and revealed itself as a massive white stag. He heard Rei’s breath catch in her throat. For a moment the air itself seemed to still as the deer looked upon the four of them. It regarded them coolly, not with the usual animalistic wary curiosity of its species. Aedan could see himself reflected in its large dark eyes as it stared at them.

“It’s beautiful,” said the little girl.

“As well he should be,” said Rei, stooping down to her level and smiling, “He’s a prince.”

“A prince!?” the boy blurted out.

The stag turned his head away from them, passed between a gap in the trees, and then disappeared into a thicket.

“Prince of the Forest,” said Rei with a nod as she rose back up to her full height.

“But how do you know?” said the little girl.

Rei gave a sidelong glance to Aedan, then looked back at her daughter.

“Once upon a time,” said Rei, “A a powerful fae queen shaped herself a son and heir from pale birch wood...”