#having a normal one today lads (lying)

[osrinlore]

happy 2/2

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Sylus: Honey Bourbon | Halloween Special

So a lot of my ideas come from suggestions in a server I'm in on discord, and when I heard someone mentioning where to bite Sylus, I was wheezing. So here we are.

❧ Pairings: Sylus x Reader ❧ Warnings: Suggestive themes, blood sucking, vampire reader ❧ Synopsis: You come home injured after a mission because you became blood starved, and Sylus decides to help you out by offering you some blood. The only catch? He gets to decide where you bite. ❧ Word Count: 3.3k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Sylus

Honey Bourbon

It was almost time for bed, something that Sylus was normally good at when it came to being on time. Adorned in his red and black robe, he showered and lounged in bed with a tablet as he went over a few dealings. Sometimes, she’d be reading a book, and sometimes, he’d find himself content with just cuddling up with you. Today, however, was a strange day. At this time of day, right as the sun was about to rise above the horizon, you’d be here. You had to be here.

Sure, the N109 zone was always shrouded in what seemed to be an eternal night, but you often were in Linkon during the night. A Linkon City Hunter, one who only worked the night shift due to your unique situation. Truth be told, Sylus hadn’t anticipated you being a vampire when he first laid eyes on you. You were the person he had been searching for, but finding you with a curse of eternal life wasn’t something he had ever thought would happen.

The curse of the sun was also something he didn’t expect you to have, but he didn’t hate it. It meant you two would go to sleep at the same time, so there was no need to make adjustments to your schedules to spend time together. It was an ideal situation, in essence.

However, it did lead to the now. Mainly as Sylus looked at the time, knowing Linkon’s sun would soon be up. He was accustomed to you messaging him when you were going to be running late, but today, he hadn’t gotten a single message from you. If he didn’t know how capable you were, he might’ve been worried. Instead, he was just…he didn’t know how he felt. He just wanted you here, in bed with him, going to sleep.

Then he finally saw you walk into the room, your hunter’s uniform disheveled and some fresh blood painted onto it. Sylus knew as well as anyone else that wanderers didn’t bleed, and he knew that you technically could, but he had never seen it.

“Darling, what happened?” Sylus asked, adjusting his position in bed. He didn’t bother getting up, not when he could see you still walking without a limp. If anything, your injuries were likely minor. He could see a few cuts on your legs, but it wasn’t anything too severe.

“It was just a particularly nasty wanderer, that’s all,” you assured him, flashing him a small grin that you hoped would be reassuring. It didn’t do anything to quell your boyfriend’s worry, though, because his eyes were now furrowed. He didn’t like it when you were lying to him like you were right now.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you injured; it’s either you fought the strongest wanderer Linkon City has ever come across, or you were careless. Which one was it?” Sylus asked, waiting for you to come up with an excuse.

Sadly, you were currently too exhausted to try and come up with another one, “I’m just in a weakened state right now; don’t worry about it,” You said with a yawn, covering your mouth. You really wanted to just crash into bed and sleep for a solid week at the moment. Sadly, you wouldn’t be able to stop the questions that Sylus had for you right now.

“I think that’s just the thing your partner should be worried about.” Sylus said, “Come here, tell me why you’re weakened right now,” he said, motioning you to come closer to him. You sighed, deciding to just approach the bed and stand at the edge where Sylus was. He hadn’t gotten up yet, which was a miracle in itself. He must’ve been just as exhausted as you were if he wasn’t coming over to you and making you undress so he could check every inch of you for injuries.

“I haven’t had anything to drink in a while,” you knew this was going to put you down a rabbit hole you really didn’t want to deal with, but there was no way he was just going to let things stand as is right now.

Sylus was silent for a few moments as if trying to comprehend what you were saying, “Sweetie, I know for a fact we have plenty of blood bags for you in the fridge. Why aren’t you drinking those?” he asked, making you heave a sigh. Here was the conversation you were wanting to avoid at all costs. The one where you knew would make him worry and probably find a solution that you really didn’t want.

“The bags of blood have chemicals in them, so they don’t coagulate.” You began, “Not only do they taste disgusting, but it can also make me a bit…sick in a sense.” As a vampire, nausea wasn’t a thing that happened often. You didn’t get sick as normal people did, but drinking things other than blood could do the trick, “It’s fine for the most part since there’s not a lot in there, but over time it builds up.” You explained it to him, and now Sylus was truly worried.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner? If I had known the blood bags weren’t good for you, I could’ve just drawn blood fresh for you.” He said, watching as you sat down at the edge of the bed. Your muscles were aching right now, and you didn’t feel like standing at the moment because of how dizzy you felt. You were grateful your injuries were seen by your superior as she was coming in for work, and you were basically told to take a few days off to recover.

“Well I…I dunno…” you trailed off. You didn’t exactly want to force Sylus to do anything like draw his own blood just for you, “If I go without for a week or two, it clears up, then I can drink from bags again. I just get a bit weaker than normal when that happens.” Sylus knew you normally drank every three days, so going two weeks was definitely pushing it.

“Has your solution always been to starve yourself?” he had a bit of an irritated edge to him, not happy that you’d be willing to do something like this to yourself, “Sweetie, in your line of work, you can’t afford to be in a weakened state. You could get injured worse than you were today.” his tone now gentler as he said this.

You didn’t know what to say to this, so you instead opted to look away. You knew he was right about this, knew you shouldn’t be doing this to yourself, but you couldn’t help it. You didn’t drink from humans since you literally swore to protect them, especially after the Chronorift Catastrophe that happened a few years back. Blood bags had been your solution since they were basically invented, and starving yourself when it got too much was also a solution you had for centuries.

“How about this,” Sylus began, “Whenever you need a…tolerance break, you can drink from me.” He said, tilting his head to the side to expose his neck. You blinked owlishly for a few moments before immediately going to reject the idea.

“Sylus, remember, thrall situation?” you asked him, raising your eyebrow. You two had been over this before, the one time he asked if you’d be willing to drink from him. You had explained so thoroughly that you would make him into a temporary thrall if you did so and how you disliked it since, in that state, he wouldn’t be able to consent to things you might ask him to do.

“I’m certain I’ll be fine,” Sylus said, trying to reassure you about it. You only looked over at him, your expression essentially deadpan, before rolling your eyes and looking away. You were too tired and too sore to have this conversation. Last time, he dropped it as soon as you said you were uncomfortable with the idea, and he hasn’t brought it up since. His bringing it up months later was…you weren’t mad about it, but you certainly weren’t thrilled.

“Ya, I’m sure you would, Sy. You’d be the one person on this entire planet who would be completely unaffected by this.” You said with a huff, “You realize if I did, you’d be more doting, always having to check in on me, not wanting to leave my side, etcetera?” You tried reminding him of all the side effects you didn’t want him to have to experience.

“And that’s any different from now?” he asked with an almost smug smirk, “Don’t I already dote on you, worry about you, and do virtually anything you ask me?” you paused at his statement. He wasn’t wrong. He basically already acted like a thrall, but you guess that’s what loving somebody could do to a man. He was just so perfect all the time, always there for you; you wondered what you did during your entire existence to end up with someone as caring as he was. Despite all the harsh edges everyone else saw, you got to see the sweet side of him on a daily basis.

You took a moment, pausing as you thought about all of this, then sighed, “It’s different; you do that of your own free will. If you’re a thrall, it’ll be something you’re compelled to do. You won’t have a choice. If I say jump, you’d do it without question. Like a fog going over your mind as you do anything I say.”

“A small, temporary setback; who’s to say it’ll even last long, though?” Sylus recalled you telling him that it generally would last about a week when someone began enthralled by you biting them, “It’d a venom in you that causes it, correct?”

“That would be correct.” You said, nodding your head.

“And I heal fast, correct?” He said, and you were getting where he was coming from. He did heal abnormally fast. A gunshot to the chest could heal in a matter of seconds if he wanted it to. Expelling a venom from his body might be under the same category. You looked at him with a scowl, knowing he might actually be right on this one. If it was, well, your life just got a lot easier, but you two wouldn’t know for certain unless you actually bit him.

You heaved a sigh, knowing that if you continued to argue, it would be even longer until you’d have a chance to sleep. “Come here, drink,” Sylus said, and you felt his evol wrapped around you now. You let out a yelp at the feeling, suddenly being placed on his lap as you straddled him.

You gave him a harsh smack on the chest for that one, “Sy, you need to give me a warning.” You were scolding him now before remembering your current situation, “And I need to clean off; I’m still dirty from work, and now I’m getting you dirty.”

“I’ll need to clean off after you drink from me, so we can just take a bath together.” He said, his hands now squeezing your thighs, “Now, are you going to keep complaining, or are you going to enjoy your meal so we can both head to bed?”

“Ugh, fine,” you muttered and looked at him, “Where would you like me to bite you?” you asked, looking at his neck. It was exposed, and there had been many times you were cuddling in bed with him, just thinking about what it would be like to sink your fangs into it. His natural scent was always intoxicating to you, always drawing you in. There were times you were even drooling a little bit when pressed against him, but you always held yourself back.

“Isn’t the neck the most traditional place?” Sylus asked as he raised an eyebrow, “I’d assume you’d be drinking from there unless there were other options I didn’t know about.”

In truth, you could bite him anywhere; the venom in your fangs did a lot of things. Cause your victim to feel a sense of euphoria instead of pain after the initial bite, making them your thrall and thinning out their blood. All things that vampire had developed to make their survival easier. “It is…” you finally said after a look of conflict went over you. You could’ve told him, but you don’t think that would be the best idea, “It’s…fine. I’ll bite your neck; it’s whatever.”

“Wait a moment,” Sylus said as he watched you lean forward, “If there’s a choice, then I have somewhere in mind.” Now, your curiosity peaked as he shifted underneath you. He let part of his robe fall and then pointed at his chest, right where his heart would be, “Right here,”

If you had fresh blood in you, your cheeks would’ve been tinged a bright red at the moment as you looked at him with wide eyes, your jaw literally dropping, “Ain’t no way I’m breastfeeding from you, Sy,” you protested, causing the man to laugh, the rumble of his chest vibrating you a little with how close you were to him. “H-hey, it’s not funny!”

“You were the one who gave me the option, and I chose here,” he said, tapping the area again. You looked down at him, then quickly averted your eyes. There was no way you’d be able to calmly do that. Your thoughts already went to the gutter whenever you saw him without a shirt on; hell, even with a shirt on, it was hard to look away. Seeing him boxing and the bouncing on his heels made a sense of primal need course through you; the way his pecs literally bounced had you questioning your entire life.

“I’m taking the ability to choose back. Clearly, you aren’t good at making life decisions.” You continued to protest, feeling like you were about five seconds from exploding from the embarrassment of it all.

“Well, I thought you might enjoy it, with how often you stare at them,” he continued his relentless teasing, and you groaned and looked back at him. So he had noticed your staring, not that it was easy to hide. It would’ve been obvious with even sunglasses since you’d be so close to them just to watch them jiggle.

You decided there was really no getting out of this one and leaned closer to Sylus with a heavy sigh. Your lips brushed against his chest as you let your fangs come out, grazing them against the exposed flesh there. Sylus shivered at the sensation, letting out a small, subtle groan as you did so. “There we go, my little bat,” Sylus said, watching as you looked for the best place to sink your teeth into.

Once you found it, you pressed a kiss there; then finally, you allowed yourself to bite him. Sylus flinched from the pinch of your canines going into his skin, but it was soon replaced with a full-body euphoria that had him sighing contently under you. His body was going a bit slack as he watched you lapping at the blood that began trickling out of the open wound now. The angle was awkward for you as you couldn’t get a good suction, so you opted to just lap with your tongue, drinking in the blood as it began coming out a bit faster due to the blood thinning effect.

It was forcing you to go slower than you were used to, which would work in your favor. You didn’t have to worry about draining and killing Sylus on accident like this as you continued drinking, now closing your eyes as the taste of him exploded on your tongue. He was everything you had imagined he’d taste like, a subtle sweetness like honey but an edge with bourbon mixed in there.

“You really are like a kitten…” Sylus said, watching you lap up the blood on his chest like a kitten drinking milk. You couldn’t stop from glaring up at him, your eyes narrowed and eyebrows pinched in frustration. If he didn’t taste so damn good, you would’ve stopped drinking by now to yell at him for calling you that. If anything, he was your kitten, and he curled up on top of you at night when you went to sleep. Sylus could see the look of conflict on your face as he leaned down to leave a small kiss on your forehead, “Keep going,” he murmured against you.

Sylus brushed your hair back, making sure it was out of your face and not mingling with the sticky mess that was now on his chest. You let out a content moan as you continued drinking until you decided it was enough. You were satisfied to an extent, but if you were honest, you could probably drink every last drop of his blood and still be wanting more of him.

As soon as you were done, your tongue began licking right over the puncture wounds, watching as they closed up until little marks were left in their wake. “Well, that’s handy…” Sylus said, not knowing you could do that. You looked up at him with a happy grin plastered on your face, leaning away from him and letting out a content sigh.

“Thanks for the meal,” you said, going to wipe your mouth on your sleeve. You're not worried about getting more blood on it since the outfit was now ruined. As soon as Sylus saw the motion, he was grasping your wrist.

You gasped as he pulled you forward, his lips crashing into your own in a heated kiss. He groaned into your mouth, tasting the copper of his blood on you as some of it transfered onto his chin and lips. You couldn’t stop yourself from closing your eyes, savoring the brush of his tongue against your own. You didn’t even realize your fangs were still out until he pushed his tongue against it, now bleeding from there as the delicious taste filtered into your mouth. You groaned but knew you had to stop; he knew he needed some time to recover from the blood loss as you reluctantly dragged yourself away from his mouth.

“Tell me, how do I taste to you?” Sylus asked, pressing his forehead against your own now. You gave him a wobbly smile as you blinked, trying to come back down to earth after he tried to take your breath away. With his blood in your body now, a blush was finally settled in on your cheeks.

“Like honey bourbon.” You told him, causing Sylus to chuckle. You knew the taste very well, whiskey kisses were commonly shared between you two. While Sylus never drank to the point of being drunk, he didn’t mind a buzz now and then. Kissing him after having some whiskey, or even wine, was always a treat for you.

“I can think of worse things to taste like,” Sylus said, letting you lean back. The two of you were complete messes at the moment, and you’d be needing to clean both of you, but it seemed like Sylus already had other plans, “Now come on, let’s get to the bathroom. I think a nice shower is long since due.” He said, cupping your thighs from underneath you. It had you falling forward onto him as he stood up, carrying you.

“W-wait, shouldn’t I be the one taking care of you…and aren’t you woozy from the blood loss?” you asked, grabbing onto his shoulders.

Sylus chuckled as he looked at you, “I’m not dizzy enough to drop you if that’s your concern.” He said, making you huff as you looked him over, making sure he was telling the truth.

“It’s not my concern…” you muttered, “And again, I should be taking care of you right now.”

“You can wash my back then, sweetie,” he said, already opening the door to the joining master bathroom, making sure there was no room for arguments.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

in the mood for angst today but imagine nikprice having to hide their relationship and trying to act 'normal' (as they can be) because what if the news of a british captain and a russian criminal/fugitive gets out and becomes a scandal?

Your wish is my command.

cw: SAS-style shovel talk?

John stood in front of Major General MacMillan's desk and watched the second hand tick by on the clock above the Major's head. Waiting. He knew what this was about. He could feel the nausea roiling in his gut like poison, more full of dread than he had been before Pripyat.

"'M sorry tae have tae ask ye this, John. I wouldnae if it were not a matter of national security," MacMillan said. Mac was a pragmatic man and he had enough spine to look at his protegé when he asked. "Are ye an' Nikolai an item?"

John swallowed the knot in his throat and dropped his gaze to meet the Major General's eye, his fingers tightening on his wrist behind his back. There was no point in lying. MacMillan knew. This was only to hear it from John's mouth before telling him it had to end. The poison felt like it was clawing up John's gullet. He wanted to be sick. "Yes, sir."

MacMillan leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, his clean shaven jaw, and then looked at the wall on his left. It was covered in photographs, certificates and medals of valour. There was only one image he was looking for. The photograph they took after surviving a bad encounter in the Congo; the relief to be alive was palpable from the look on their faces alone. "Aye, well, tha' complicates things," he said finally.

John said nothing. His eyes fogged over and he swallowed again. Keeping it together through sheer willpower and self discipline forged through twenty-one years of service. He would rather be anywhere else in the world at that moment, including a KorTac detention site.

MacMillan tapped the files on his desk, fingers drumming like the herald of an execution in John's ears. "Ye need tae keep it quiet. Be discreet," MacMillan said. "Ye understandin' me, John?"

John let out a shaky breath, his fingers gripping tighter. "You're not tellin' me it has to end?"

MacMillan snorted. "An' if ah did tha', would it?"

John said nothing.

"Aye, thought not," he said. "This is damage control. He's 'n international arms dealer, a criminal, John. With links tae our feckin' enemy, I--"

"He's not like that." It came out of Price's mouth before he could stop it, and MacMillan levelled him with a disgruntled look. "Nik would never." Price had never felt such faith in something in his entire life. Nikolai would never betray him. Not for anything in this world or the next.

"Love makes us blind," MacMillan said. "'M sure he's an upstandin' fella, but if this gets out, then there will be talka honey traps, of spies, of..." He waved his hand and slumped back in his chair. "Ye stupid bastart, couldnae get yersel' a bonnie northern lad, eh? Had tae be the insane Russian fixer."

Price said nothing. He tried. His mouth opened, but there was a knot in his throat choking the words. Was it relief? He wasn't sure.

"Aye," Mac huffed. "'Course it had tae be. Shouldn' expect 'nythin' else." He stared at the wall again and then shook his head. "'e's good tae yer, by reports."

"Yessir." It didn't surprise John at all that Mac had collected his intel first. He would have spoken to the 141. In fact, Ghost had told him as such only two days ago.

"Good. Ye deserve tha'. Deserve someone tae treat yer right."

John drew in another stuttering breath, trying to read his superior's face. Mac had changed through the years. A desk did that to a soldier; the politics wormed under the skin and injected its venom, and suddenly you were doing and saying things the soldier in the field would have never dreamed of. It was difficult to predict which way he would go, but it seemed some of the old Mac that had fought at John's side was still there.

"This is ye only warnin'. Discreet. Keep all yer emails locked down, everythin'. He has no passwords, no access. No social media, no introducing him to your folks, nothin'. Don't gimme tha' look. This is due diligence."

"Sir."

"If this gets oot, even tae th' wider service, people bigger 'n' me will be lookin' tae broker a more permanent solution," Mac sighed. "Dismissed."

John turned to leave. His eyes stung. As his hand reached the door handle, Mac called over.

"An' John," he murmured, picking up his pen, "if ah get even a sniff tha' he's betrayed us, that he's turnin', 'll put a bullet in him mesel'."

John nodded.

Actually, there were two things in life of which John Price was certain: that Nikolai would never betray him, and that Major General Rory "Baseplate" MacMillan wouldn't even blink when he pulled that trigger.

[pacifymebby]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do a HC of the peaky blinders men having a lover who sings, like they sing so beautifully, and they like sing privately to the boys like love songs to them or a song they made up while slow dancing with them in a room (omfg that would be cute!) Thanks!! Hope your day goes well!! 💜

Aw this is so sweet <3

Warnings: nsfw in some places

Tommy

🌿He heard you singing before he heard you speaking. He was stood behind you in the queue at the bakery and you were singing to yourself under your breath.

🌿Even though you were only singing quietly he could already tell you were a good singer, that he'd like to hear you singing properly.

🌿 So he leant down and spoke quietly to you, "sing a little louder love, shame to waste such a pretty song by keeping it to yourself..."

🌿 Naturally you hushed up pretty sharpish, turning with a little gasp, a blush flourishing on your cheeks. You even apologised upon seeing who it was you'd disturbed with your little song...

🌿But he just chuckles and asks you again, "No I mean it, I you have a lovely voice, I'd like to hear a little more..."

🌿Then you're really blushing because this is Tommy Shelby you're talking to and he's asking you to sing for him in the middle of the bakery, and no one refuses him when he asks for something...

🌿 So you do, because you have to. You're trembling with nerves when you begin to sing a little louder, and you feel the eyes of other people in the shop watching you. You know that impromptu singing isn't exactly normal for a Thursday morning...

🌿 But its Tommys eyes on you that are doing the most damage. He's watching you so intensely.

🌿And when you finish your song, trailing off because your nerves have caught up to you and you feel ridiculous - which you tell him - he just takes your hands, tells you you're shaking, and then tells you again that your voice is beautiful.

🌿He pays for your shopping as a thank you and you expect never to see him again however that isnt the case and you seem to see him more often than ever. Its like he's searching you out...

🌿And he is... After hearing you sing for the first time he's obsessed with you, he thinks you've the most pure and angelic voice... It soothed him, calmed him when he needed to be brought back down to earth and he's determined to get close to you, have you all to himself.

🌿And naturally Tommy gets what he wants, he always does. He goes to the bakery at least once a day, always vague about why he's there, never lying about it because he isn't embarrassed or ashamed of that kind of thing. His determination has always been a strong point.

🌿 "In here a lot lately Tommy, and you don't have a sweet tooth in you..." "No, no you're right Sammy I don't... I'm just looking for someone, figure they do have a sweet tooth," shoots the baker boy a knowing half smile, like they're sharing an in joke, because he knows that being friendly with this lad will get him the information he wants.

🌿"Comes in first thing Saturday mornin and first thing Mondays too, sometimes shes in on a Wednesday for bread flour..."

🌿 So the next Saturday morning he's there bright and early and he finds himself in the queue behind you again, but today you know hes there and youre shy and embarassed remembering what happened last time... So you're not singing.

🌿And Tommys very dissapointed. "Quiet this morning little bird," he muses quietly, leaning down behind you, talking right beside your ear, making you jump and blush when you turn around startled by him. He enjoys seeing you startled and made shy by him, if he's being honest he really likes the sight of that, but he apoligises to you anyway, ever the gentlemen and he just like that he tells you he needs someone for a job, he needs a singer... See his little boy has these terrible nightmares since his mother died and well, he needs someone to come and sing to him at night, help him sleep.

🌿"The money'd be good I promise, don't sound like a real job I know but it'd pay like a real job... Better than a real job..."

🌿And how can you refuse when a man tells you his motherless little one isn't sleeping. So you don't even think about the money, completely taken in by Tommys little white lime. Because its Tommy who needs singing to, Tommy who's getting those horrid nightmares...

🌿You start visiting every couple of days, in the evenings for an hour or two, singing littlw Charlie to sleep whilst his father sits over his crib, stroking his hair. You realise that this must be a side to him Tommy doesnt let anyone else see. You start to see him as someone with vulnerabilities, with a tender side, capable of love. Something you've always been told Thomas Shelby is incapable of.

🌿And as time passes you start to realise that it isn't Charlie who struggles to sleep, that its Tommy. And so as time passes you start staying later, pretending you cant tell Charlie's settled, singing until Tommy has fallen asleep too. Sometimes you're there all night singing and then falling asleep ib your chair at the end of Charlies bed, because its too late to walk home alone.

🌿Things between you and Tommy took a long time to blossom but by the time they did you already felt like you knew him so well.

🌿Tommy is the one who brings your confidence out, always telling you how beautiful your voice is, how lovely it is to hear you sing. How you should be singing for people all the time. Before Tommy you didn't really sing for other people but now he's built you up to a place where you're not affraid to sing for others. In fact you often enjoy it.

🌿The night he kissed you for the first time it was late, Charlie had drifted to sleep and you were doing your usual, pretending not to have noticed, keeping up your singing until Tommy drifted off too.

🌿But Tommy had been watching you, tormented by these increasingly affectionate thoughts he'd been having whenever you were around. And he decided to do something that night.

🌿"y/n love, c'mere," he said, he looked sleepy and you were tired too, "Cmon come here, Charlies asleep and you look so lovely tonight, let me dance with you?"

🌿You were shocked but you were secretly thrilled because over the weeks you'd been visiting little Charlie you'd found yourself growing increasingly soft on Tommy. Perhaps it was that tender side you'd been seeing, that no one else saw, but he made you feel all kinds of happy whenever he was around. Everything felt sweeter, warmer, better.

🌿And although you were still shy when his serious eyes fixed on you and you felt him studying you, you had to admit that it thrilled you to be the center of his attention. And lately youd been wondering how it would feel to be held by him. To have him stroke your hair from your face. To have him look at you with that intensity, but from close up instead of from the otherside of the room.

🌿So you did as he asked and you crossed the bedroom floor to him. You gave him your hands and he held your fingers delicately. And when he stood up his hands moved to your waist, smoothing down the fabric of your dress gently, holding your hips.

🌿You didn't know what to do with your hands so he placed them for you, one on his shoulder, one palm flat against his chest.

🌿"Now," he said, "we need music..." he gave you a teasing, knowing smirk, "sing me something sweet angel, somet as sweet as you eh?"

🌿The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife but it was good tension. The atmosphere close and warm, the two of you gentle and sleepy and soft with one another. You felt so shy you has to close your eyes when you began to sing your favourite slow song, one which was really an old scottish lullaby but which could be danced to slowly too.

🌿"Good girl," Tommy lets out a little sigh, kissing your forehead, beginning to dance you slowly, rocking you. When his lips brush your cheek you open your eyes, look up at him like a doe in the headlights. You've thought about what it would be like to be kissed by him too but this is nothing like anything you could have ever imagined.

🌿Him telling you your songs beautiful as he leans in to kiss you on the lips, your mouths meeting and the two of you suddenly realising that this was something you should have done much much sooner.

🌿And when the kiss deepened and the two of you felt the moment heating up, the swell of need for him, and his for you, almost catching you both by surprise, he lifted you up off your feet and carried you to his bedroom.

🌿Now naturally, you'd stopped singing, your mouth a little occupied... However as he dips to kiss your neck, your collar bones and your chest, as he begins to undress you carefully, delicately, he asks you not to stop singing.

🌿"Keep singing angel," he murmurs to you between kisses, and he keeps repeating himself, even when youre undressing him, even when hes lifted you up off your feet and your legs are wrapped around him. Even as he slips into your for the first time, taking it slow and gentle, yoir voice shaking, your melody interrupted by your breath catching in your throat as he pushed into you slowly...

🌿He'll sing to you too sometimes and he has a far lovelier voice than you imagined he would. His voice is low and just a little rusty/misty sounding. It has that sweet woody tone to it. He'll sing to you when you're sad or scared.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie didn't know you could sing for a long time. It was something which, he'd always imagined you probably could do, because your low voice was always so sweet and resonant even when you spoke, but when he overhears you singing he has to say, he's surprised.

🐻And it niggles at him too, he's almost a little annoyed you've never sang to him, you don't even sing around him, not even in the evenings when he's got the wireless on.

🐻 He probably gets a bit grumpy about it as if he thinks youve been keeping your beautiful singing a secret from him on purpose.

🐻 But in reality you're just shy, and you don't think you do have a beautiful singing voice. You definitely don't think its beautiful enough to warrant singing for other people as if you believe yourself to be something special...

🐻 But Alfie stands just the otherside of the kitchen doorway listening to you sing as you kneed your bread dough. Thinks your voice is the most enchanting sound he's ever heard and he loves it.

🐻 Pretends not to like it, just to tease you, he comes into the kitchen behind you, grumbling and chuntering away. "Now whats all this racket then, whats all this... This noise bloody awful noise right keepin me awake..." but he can't keep his trick up for very long at all, not when you look mortified, wide eyes and imediately apologising over and over.

🐻He has to laugh, he can't believe you believe him for a start. But he feels guilty for teasing you and immediately opens his arms up to you, hugs you and kisses your cheek.

🐻"I'm only teasing zieskiet, obviously I'm only teasing you... As a matter of fact yeah, your little song you were singing just now, well, as a matter of fact my dear that was the most beautiful little song my fussy old ears, have ever been fuckin blessed to hear..."

🐻 Alfie thinks your voice is so inspiring, and he's a lover of music himself, a lover of the arts, he always tells you you should be singing on stages, in operas, for an audience with the knowledge, the cultured palette to appreciate you.

🐻You're his muse when he starts writing his opera, in fact your voice alone is half the reason he has for trying to write it in the first place. He wants to write an opera fittinf of youe glorious voice. But whenever he asks you to sing for him, whenever he asks you to inspire him, you just get shy and you try to hide away.

🐻And you always tease him to, reminding him, "I thought my singing was just a bloody great racket..." you'll refuse to sing for him just to watch him get grumpy and grumbly and then you'll giggle and sing for him running your fingers through his hair or his beards.

🐻 And you'll sing little love songs, tell him you wrote them for him and he'll get a little embarassed. "Don't know what you're wasting your time writing songs about me for zieskiet... Just an old man..." "My old man..."

🐻 He writes arias for you to sing and tries to get you to sing for other people but you won't do it. Your voice is something you trust only Alfie with, and he grows comfortable with that, begins to feel like he wouldn't want it any other way. Your voice is this precious secret that you share, something so precious you'll only give it to him.

🐻 Calls for you to come sit in his lap when its late and hes just come home from the office or that late night business that always sees him come home with blood on his hands. He sits himself down at the kitchen table or in his big armchair by the fire and he calls for you to come to him.

🐻 "Zieskiet my precious angel come sit down with your old man, it's been a fuckin godless day and he's tired..." and you go to him, let him pull you down into his lap, let him bundle you up in his arms, kiss you and growl into your neck. Running his hands over your waist, squeezing you possesively.

🐻 Holds your face in his hands and looks up at you, into your eyes with his own, which are so cold and steely for everyone but you. For you theyre molten, soft and dark and full of adoration.

🐻 "Sing me a song zieskiet, one with a sad little story right? One where the hero dies somet tragic yeah... Will you do that for your old man yeah, sing him a nice fuckin tragedy?"

🐻 Because he's a strange eccentric he will absolutely send Ollie or someone running half way across the city to find you having been told its an emergency, a serious fuckin emergency.

🐻 And when you get to the office Alfies just frowning, "Ah zieskiet, poppet thank the heavens you are here... Finally..." "What is it Alf, whats the matter?" "Ive tuned in and out of this bloody wireless yeah, and I've searched this whole bloody box of records yeah, ain't any fuckin music anywhere to be found..."

🐻 He really scared you half to death, had you running across the city with Ollie, just so you could sing him his favourite song.

Arthur

🍂 You've never really thought of yourself as particularly musically gifted and you don't really think your voice is anything special, however you love to sing and sing all the time. You adore music, you use it for emotional regulation, you hate to sit in silence. You hum when youre nervous, when you're happy, when you're sad you listen to sad songs and you sing along and pretend that your pain is just as bad as the pain of the man singing about his dead love.

🍂 And its something Arthurs always loved about you. How you're always singing, how you brighten a room with your good mood and your happy humming. How when things get tense and the kids need soothing and distracting, you're there to sooth them with a little song.

🍂 You teach Johns kids and Charlie and Ruby little songs, nursery rhymes, or songs to learn the alphabet and how to count. Songs to learn the days and the months. Arthur loves how you have a song for everything.

🍂 Its just something that makes you so different from everyone else in his life. You're so sweet and goodhearted and you're never too serious and your singing puts him at ease. He loves to listen to you and it always leaves him feeling warm and good inside when you sing.

🍂 When hes stressed out he'll ask you to sing for him and thats the only time you ever feel self concious, when he asks you to sing just for him and you can tell that hes depending on you for something. Then you question whether you're really good enough at singing... Because you know he'll actually be listening and expecting to hear something beautiful.

🍂 He likes to share a bath with you, share some wine, share some snow and then have you sing whilst you massage his shoulders. Loves when you wash his hair and sing for him, when you sing soft and low and sweetly in his ear, just for him. It makes him feel so safe and pure.

🍂 You sing to him to calm him when he's struggling to come down from one of those raging adrenaline rushes triggered by his PTSD. When hes having flashbacks you sing to him and hold his hand, kiss his temple. It helps to keep him grounded, helps him to stay on this plain in this reality instead of getting lost in a bad memory.

🍂You sing to him when youre cleaning his wounds, when youre washing other men's blood from his hands, scrubbing his nails and singing soothing little songs to calm him, to let him know you still love him, still think he deserves to be sung to. To be treated like a human.

🍂 He has favourite songs he'll ask for. And sometimes if youre singing and he doesn't feel like the kids are grateful enough that you sing to them he'll tell them to hush up and listen to you, "Dont know how lucky you are gettin to hear your aunty y/n sing for you like that, other kids would kill to have someone so beautiful singin to them!"

🍂Actually can get grumpy if he doesn't think other people appreciate your singing enough.

John

🌼 Is such a git and teases you relentless about your singing because you sing to yourself all the time.

🌼 "eh up that crazy lass from Watery Lanes singin to herself again, what a looney..." he's only joking but he doesn't know when a jokes stopped being funny, or that hes taking the joke too far.

🌼 Doesn't realise you think he's being serious or at least means it a little bit when he says its embarassing the way you wander round singing to yourself all the time, "whole of Birminghams gonna think you're losing the plot flower, gonna think you've gone nuts..."

🌼 So after awhile his jokes get to you and you take his thoughtless teasing to heart. You stop singing, or you try anyway. Its an old habbit and it dies hard and slow, so slow that John doesn't notice how you're singing less and less, or how sometimes you'll be singing to yourself but you'll stop just as he walks into a room.

🌼 Basically he's oblivious to the damage hes done until its too late and you really have stopped singing completely. Now you don't even really sing to yourself and its his fault...

🌼 Then one day he realises how quiet it is, how quiet you are and he gets upset, suddenly really worried for you.

🌼 "Y/N lass whats going on eh? You're upset or somets happened? Am not stupid I can tell..." but he is stupid, hes a stupid fuckin dinlow because even now he doesnt realise whats really the matter. When you tell him nothing is wrong, that everythings fine he argues back and says

🌼 "No, nah somethings not right flower, you don't sing anymore or anything, you're so quiet..."

🌼 You look at him, a little bit confused, a little bit wounded. "Thought you didn't like my singin...why do you care if I don't sing anymore?" you sound more sullen than you think you do and suddenly John knows exactly why you've stopped singing and he feels like such a fucking idiot.

🌼 "Oh bloody hell," he sighs, getting annoyed with himself for being an idiot. "Fuck sake, I'm sorry love..."

🌼 Tells you that he loves your singing and always has, that its one of his favourite things about you and thats the whole reason he used to tease you for it. Because he loves it so much he just thought that it was obvious he was only teasing.

🌼 So then he has to chip away at you the other direction, teasing you until you're singing for him again. Because obviously John isnt going to learn the error of his daft, boyish ways.

🌼 And finally you relent and give in and sing a little love song for him which has you both blushing.

🌼 His favourite thing which he used to love watching was how you'd gather all the wains up in your bed with you at night and if a story wasn't working to send them all off to sleep, you'd sing lullabyes for them.

🌼 He liked climbing into bed with you and the children and getting cosy, one big happy family, all huggled up together whilst you sang for them.

🌼 When one of the wains starts singing and copying you, singing with you sometimes John is overwhelmed with pride and he loves it. Loves you for teaching his littlens something he could never have taught them himself.

🌼Will get jealous if its been a long day and all he wants is to spend a little alone time with his girl, but he can't get anywhere near you because the kids want you to sing for them. He'll end up packing them all off to bed with the promise of one last song and then when finally its just you and him he'll tease you, singing your song back to you, making fun until youre giggling and blushing and actually getting quite wound up by him.

🌼 Then hes all kisses and grabbing you, pulling you close, singing and kissing you all over until youre laughing too much to fight him anymore.

Bonnie

🍀Has always loved to listen to music, ever since he was a little boy. And because you grew up together travelling around, hes always known you could sing. Always loved listening to you sing.

🍀Once when you were a little girl one of the older lads teased you about your singing voice telling you to shut up, telling you it wasnt cool to sing, it was cool to know how to hunt and do manly things. And little Bonnie threw a rock at him, "You shut up dinlow!"

🍀He didn't win that fight and in fact he got into a fair bit of bother for throwing that rock at one of the Boswell boys. A lot of trouble actually, more than it was worth as far as youre concerned.

🍀You didn't stop singing, you were a smart girl and you knew that most of the time the boys that said mean things to you were only doing it because they were daft and didn't know how to speak to girls. Had to be mean because they were scared of pretty lassies.

🍀Thats what Bonnie always told you anyway.

🍀Now you're much older and Bonnie is your boy, your champion, and you still sing all the time. You sing to the wains when you're helping to look after them. You sing when you're doing your chores, doing the washing in the stream, preparing the meat when the lads come back from hunting.

🍀You often sing around the fire in the evening when the men get their instruments out and some of the others dance with their wives and children. You'll sing at funerals too, when everyone needs a sad song to fill the silence whilst you watch the flames burning and the remember those who have passed.

🍀Sometimes Bonnie watches you with the youngens, when youre singing your lullabies to the babies, rocking them to sleep... He can't help but imagine you singing to his babies one day. Sometimes watching you singing with the children gets him in the mind that he wants to give you children sooner rather than later.

🍀Has definitely told you this too, he isn't shy about it. Will kiss your cheek and your neck, nibble your ear and then say something about how he's gonna have you singing lullabies to babies of your own in no time at all.

🍀He's a superstitious lad, has his pre fight routines... And the most important is that you come to his changing room, that just you and him get at least a minute or two alone for you to sing his lucky song to him whilst you wrap his hands up. He'll close his eyes and focus on your voice, how pure and pretty it is, he'll slow his breathing, get himself in the zone and then he'll kiss your cheek, give you one of his cheeky over confident winks, and off he goes to fight like a champion yet again.

🍀Teases you, says one day you'll be singing folk songs about bonnie Bonnie Gold champion of the world.

🍀 Fond of a post fuck lullaby, loves to hold you in his arms and listen to one of your sweet little songs. Loves to feel the vibration of your voice in his chest when you're resting on top of him.

🍀 He thinks of your singing when hes scared. He doesnt really get scared so easily, he enjoys most of the work he does for the blinders, doesn't really mind the killing, he's always been very laidback about those sorts of things, always been very calm. But sometimes when he's in a dangerous situation and he's realising quite how dangerous what he's doing is, when he realises he might not get out of a place alive, he remembers one of your songs, pictures you singing in a field or by the fire or with the wains, or how sometimes you sing just for him in the middle of the night, and the thought calms him.

🍀When he's injured after a fight, or after a blinder job that went wrong, and he can see that you're scared by the sorry state of him, he'll force you an easy smile and ask you to sing for him. Partly because he knows it'll give you something to focus on instead of powerlessly worrying, and partly because he'll take any excuse to hear that gorgeous voice of yours. "Pretty as bird song in the morning dove, thats how your singin sounds...."

🍀 Bonnie can definitely sing and he definitely sings for you, little lullabys and sad ancient folk songs with mysterious stories threaded into them. He'll lie with you under a tree at the edge of misty moorlands and sing to you a little irish lament about a girl who went wandering into the mist to find her lover never to return again. He'll tell you she haunts the moores and then he'll tease you when he scares you with his little ghost songs.

Isaiah

🐀You're the life of a party when you sing down the Garrison and Isaiah is always glad to be able to see you dancing and singing spreading joy, stirring high spirits.

🐀He's also pretty pleased because it was him who told the Shelbys to hire you as a barmaid, told them you were a wonderful singer and that you'd have the place buzzing and busy all night.

🐀And its true, you have the power to pick exactly the right song and get every man up to the bar or dancing with his lass or remembering times gone by. You're a real crowd pleaser thats for sure and Isaiah is very proud to have found you. Always tells Tommy "you owe me for that Tommy, my girls the main reason this place stays open..."

🐀But Isaiah has a jealous streak and he doesn't like watching the way the other men at the Garrison admire you. Hates to see other men falling in love with his lass, falling for your voice and the pretty songs you sing, the bright light which seems to radiate from you when you smile through the notes of a happy song.

🐀So he spends half the night planning how he'll get you alone, soothing his jealousy with thoughts of what he'll do when he finally gets you alone and he can tease you and touch you, kiss you all he likes without feeling jealous eyes on him.

🐀Taking you into the private booth and locking the little door so that its just you and him and you can't be disturbed. You getting flustered because he's just stolen you from the floor and you're supposed to be working.

🐀"Saiah whatre you doing, theres pints to pull! You'll get me in trouble..." "Nah love, ain't gettin in any trouble if you're with me, am a blinder aren't I..." winking at you being cheeky, teasing you and pulling you into his lap, holding you there one hand on your hip, one holding your chin and stearing you to loom at him.

🐀"Sing me a song love, one thats just for me..." he says giving you a needy little stare, his eyes fixed on yours, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. He enjoys seeing you blush, seeing you get a little shy. That shy smile so beautiful. "Sing us a song thats just for me and promise you'll never sing it for anyone else yeah.."

🐀So you do, and you promise you'll never sing it for anyone else, so it becomes your song. When you get married its the song you share your first dance to.

🐀At home, and only when no one else is with you he'll join in your songs and dance you around the kitchen or the bedroom, only interrupting your melody when he can't keep his lips from your lips any longer.

🐀You can tell his jealousy and how possesive he is over you and you love it, and you want him to know that you love it and you love him, so you write him little love songs and laments and you sing them for him in that private booth at the Garrison or in bed when the house is quiet and the streets outside are hushed by the late late night sky.

🐀He LOVES your little love songs and he can't even begin to express the effect they have on him. Hearing the words you wrote for him, hearing a whole song inspired by him... Its incredible and it stokes his ego but it also makes him feel so loved...

🐀Theres also probably something precious to Isaiah about the fact that you admire him and think hes good enough to be the subject of a song because obviously racism is aggressively prevalent in 1920s birmingham and he spends a lot of time very aware that if it wasnt for his peaky cap and even despite his peaky cap, there are many who would think him unworthy even of acknowledgement. So the fact that the love of his life is writing pretty little songs about how much they adore him, how handsome he is, how he makes their whole world turn... Well, he feels very proud and very honored and touched and he never quite knows how to express it.

🐀Tries to write you one too but it ends up being a silly little ditty that ends with something dirty that makes you blush and laugh and climb straight into bed with him.

Michael

☘️ There are many parts of himself Michael keeps secret. All the things he thinks people might think him a "soft lad" for.

☘️ One of these is that he can sing beautifully. His adopted mother used to play piano and have him and his brother sing hymns from church.

☘️His mother knows he can sing too, she makes him sing for her when she's worried, when the voices of the dead are too loud or painful to listen to. When shes unwell and suffering. Michael will sing for her but he'll be sullen and embarassed and he'll berrate her for even asking it of him.

☘️ The other hidden secret is that he loves to be sung to sleep. He loves to lie with you, him between your legs, your thighs wrapped around his waist, his head resting on your belly as you comb your fingers through his hair and sing him a soft soothing melody.

☘️Probably because he has mummy issues. He loves to be spoiled and taken care of like that, to be treated gently.

☘️After the Changretta hit on him, when he's in the hospital, you visit him every day, you're so worried about him but he's got glad to have his "little songbird" with him to sing for him and keep him from killing himself from the boredom of being cooped up like that.

☘️He asks you to sing songs for him whilst you change his bandages and wash his wounds. He likes the distraction from the pain and he tells you you have a healing voice. Tells you its a gift, that you were a gift sent to him from some higher power.

☘️If you want to sing professionally, which michael will definitely encourage, he will pull the strings to get you singing in tge fanciest hotels, to have you climb the ladder to stardom. Partially because he wants to see you happy and will do anything to keep you happy, but also partially because it feeds his ego and makes him feel powerful to have a famous girlfriend, one who is admired by so many for her beautiful voice. You're a real star, shining bright, and you're all his. No one elses.

☘️He keeps his own talent hidden from you for a long long time because he's worried you'll think him less of a man, worried you'll think he's soft. But one day, the day your father dies, you're so distraught, exhausted from all your grief, and michael wants to help you so he holds you in his arms and strokes your hair, rocks you gently and sings you to sleep.

☘️He doesnt think youll remember, thinks you'll have forgotten it because you were in such a state, but you remember how beautifully he sang and when you ask him about it he gets so self concious and blushes and tries to deny it.

☘️ "Must have been imagining it sweetheart I can't sing..."

☘️You beg him to sing to him again, and again and again...

☘️And finally he gives in, says that if you'll sing him a song he will join in. And you sound really lovely together and you can't keep the smiles off your faces.

☘️When you have children michael sings them these lowly lullabies and you love to fall asleep holding the baby in your arms, the both of you lulled to sleep by daddy.

[argentdeer]

Alaina Allaway - "Erudite Snake"

• Full name: Alaina Anh-Ly Allaway

• Nicknames: Liana (by close friends), Lychee (by her twin brother)

• Pureblood

• Slytherin

• Birthday: February 07, 1875 (Aquarius)

• INFJ

• Enneagram: 1w2

• Half Scottish, half Vietnamese

• She has a rather shy, demure personality. Though, behind this personality, she is a fierce and ambitious witch! She can also be sly, using a normally hidden charm to get her way. That being said, she and her brother had been raised as good-hearted children. She's a Slytherin prefect, and she is not above using that power to get her housemates out of trouble. Her friend group consists of Sebastian, Ominis, Imelda, and Anne. While it may be a small group, they're tightly knit and these four are usually the ones who get advantage on any perks she will have as a prefect. There are two exceptions to that exclusiveness, a few certain Gryffindors. One with a penchant for making strange concoctions...and the other? A Welsh lad who has a streak for breaking many school rules...(OC)

It's my baby Alaina's (formerly Anh-Ly) birthday today! She is the first character I started for Hogwarts Legacy 1 year ago today so I'm  sharing info about her in celebration! 💖 While she is my first character, she isn’t my MC.

[kharti]

[ Good Sir, Mad Lad #23 ]

      ( first | prev | next )

When Stede went into the room, he was surprised to find Jack staring back at him with clear, focused eyes.

      ( Continue reading on AO3 or... )

When Stede went into the room, he was surprised to find Jack staring back at him with clear, focused eyes.

“Are you finally feeling well?” Stede asked, taking a seat in the chair by the bed and crossing his legs. “You look remarkably better than yesterday.”

Jack just stared at him, lips parted without a sound.

Stede’s spirits fell a bit and he sighed. “Can you not understand me today?”

“No,” Jack said in a low, almost timid voice. “I mean… yeah, I can understand ya. Just.” His eyes darted around the room before settling on Stede again. “Why am I here?”

“Ah, this conversation again.” Stede reached out to take Jack’s hand in his own. “I found you, drunk and disoriented, and brought you to my ship to recover.”

“Why?”

Stede could almost recite their back-and-forth from memory now. He still smiled, still tried to look like a friendly face in what was a difficult time for Jack. “Because it’s the decent thing to do.”

And now Jack would spit at him, would struggle to break free and growl about how he didn’t need Stede’s pity.

Instead, Jack just looked up at him with soft eyes. “But why? Why would ya waste your decency on me?”

Stede blinked, his hand recoiling in surprise, but Jack held it firm in his grasp. He looked down at their joined hands—it was the first time during this past week that Jack had actually touched him without intent to harm.

“Because…” Stede swallowed. There was no use in lying, not when Jack wouldn’t remember any of it. “Because I care about you, Jack.”

Jack sucked in a small breath that sounded like the start to a sob and shook his head. “Ya shouldn’t. I don’t fuckin’ deserve it.”

Stede shifted to sit on the edge of his seat, reaching out one hand to cup Jack’s cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “Why do you think that?”

“’Cause, I—I hurt you, Stede.” Jack closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Well, I’m not normally one to kick a man when he’s already down, but.” Stede bit down on his tongue to shut down his own rising emotions. “You are a fucking idiot.”

Jack snorted on a laugh, and it made Stede’s heart clench to almost hear the man’s laughter again. “Yeah.” He opened his eyes and he stared up at Stede again. “I missed ya.”

Stede had to withdraw his hand and looked away, couldn’t dare to gaze into those eyes or believe the words coming from those lips. “Oh?”

“Fuck, Stede, I’m sorry.” Jack’s voice sounded so—soft and sincere. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have left. I fucked up a good thing. A great thing. Maybe the best thing.”

It was just the withdrawal, Stede tried to tell himself. But his father had never gone soft during his bouts with trying to quit drinking, only grew meaner and more cruel.

“And?” Stede swallowed around the lump in his throat. “What do you plan to do?”

“I dunno. Win ya back, if I can.” Jack tried to sit upright, and Stede actually considered setting him free. “If there’s a chance, I’ll take it. Just… Tell me if there’s a chance.”

What was Stede supposed to say? He chewed on his lip, looking away to try to gather his thoughts.

Of course there was a chance. How could there not be? Stede had tried to turn off the feelings he had toward Jack, and that hadn’t gotten him anywhere except deeper in misery. But—there was fear, too. If Jack was just going to leave him again, then he’d rather bleed slowly like this than have a knife plunged into his chest.

Finally, he worked up the courage to ask, “Why do you want to win me back at all?”

“’Cause, I—” Jack choked, then cleared his throat and turned his head to look up at the ceiling, and his eyes started to water. “The only reason I left was ‘cause I was scared to be in love.”

Stede wanted to believe it. He really, really did. He wanted to throw himself onto the bed and shower Jack with soft kisses, forgive him with all his broken heart. He wanted to live happily ever after, the way things should have been in the first place.

But he knew better.

“If you really mean it,” Stede said as carefully as he could, “you’ll have to convince the crew.”

Jack blinked at him. “The crew?” He paused, then rolled his eyes while his lips twitched into a grin. “Right, I almost forgot. Ya treat the crew like family.”

Stede smiled, his chin dipping in toward his chest. “They are family, to me.”

“Okay.” Jack clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides. “Yeah. Seems fair.”

This hurt. Jack actually seemed coherent. Perhaps—Maybe there was a chance that he was, and that this conversation was real.

Stede stood up and brushed out the wrinkles in his pants, avoiding Jack’s eyes. “Well, I… I’m glad you seem to be feeling better. Maybe today’s the day you can get out of bed on your own.”

Jack didn’t respond, likely already dipping back into his withdrawal fugue.

But when Stede reached the door, Jack’s voice called after him, “I’m gonna convince the fuck out of them.”

Stede hesitated, his hand resting on the doorframe, feeling the woodgrain beneath his palm to ground him as his heart clenched in his chest.

I hope so, he wanted to say, but his voice escaped him, so he just nodded and walked out of the room.

He only made it a few steps before the tears started to fall, and he had to hold his breath to make sure he didn’t make a sound as he hurried back to the safety of his cabin.

“How did it—” Leon’s voice cut off, then came back, softer, “What happened?”

Stede stopped just short of throwing himself onto the bed next to the man, hesitating just out of reach. “He was… more coherent than before.”

Leon sat up, the blanket falling away from his bare chest, and he offered a concerned frown. “What did he say?”

“That he wants to try to win me back,” Stede replied as he dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed. “What am I going to do?”

“What do you want to do?” Leon nestled in behind him, wrapping his arms around Stede’s middle.

Stede groaned, going limp against him, letting his head fall back onto Leon’s shoulder. “I want to just—kiss him and cry about it.”

Leon gave a thoughtful hum before his voice dipped, becoming a bit gravelly as he mumbled into Stede’s ear, “Ya wanna know what I think?”

Stede shivered as the special bedroom voice went straight between his legs. “What’s that?”

“That ya need to just not think for a bit, baby.”

“You—” Stede closed his eyes as he turned his head to feel Leon’s breath on his lips. “You know I don’t like it when you call me that.”

Leon chuckled, not at all like Jack, but it was a good effort. “Sorry. Darlin’.”

It should have felt wrong, but it was Leon’s idea in the first place. Stede didn’t know what the man got out of this, why he offered to play this little game of make believe.

But it helped relieve some of the pain in his chest, and as he clasped a hand to Leon’s cheek and kissed him softly, he could almost pretend it wasn’t strange at all.

      ( next )

📚 view a list of all my current stories!

[harmonie-writes]

The Hunt pt. 2

Werewolf! Wonwoo x hunter! Reader

Summary: After going in different directions to work on different cases, you receive an alarming call. Driving to a small town that has wild nightlife and strange occurrences you begin your search for your missing hunting partner. This case you are about to take on will rival the others you’ve completed in the past. What could possibly happen as you search for your brother in arms?

AN: I love supernatural so a bunch of my ideas for this specific series are from that show!

Warnings: false identity, potential violence, language, depictions of gore, cause of death, alcohol. Story is purely for fictitious purposes and doesn't not portray actual people.

Word count: ~1k

—-------

Previously on The Hunt:

"Somethings just weird Seungcheol," Chan spoke in the phone receiver as he removed his fingers from the blinds as he noticed you get into your car. You came into town dressed in flannels and now you're leaving in a suit.

"Just keep your distance and keep us updated Chan," Seungcheol muttered, as he paced in the living room of the pack house before adding, "and don't get spotted."

—-------

Parking your car in the hospital parking lot you take a deep breath and glance at yourself one last time. You always hated lying, but unfortunately the world is a lot scarier than people are led to believe so a small white lie won't hurt, right?

Walking up to the front desk you spot a lady dressed in scrubs clicking away on the computer. "Hi there, I'm here to go over the body that was recently found with," your eyes catch a photo and name plate behind her, "with Dr. Evans."

"I wasn't aware that Dr. Evans had any appointments today," she responded, as she looked for any appointments on the computer.

"The business with Dr. Evans is," you pause to fish out your badge before showing her, "private."

Slowly she nodded her head before paging the doctor. "Right he will be here shortly, Miss?"

"Keira, Keira Knightley."

"Right, Miss Knightley."

—-------

A set of double doors open to reveal a stoutly man, roughly in his late 40s. "I'm looking for Miss Knightley?"

Standing from your chair you greet the man with a smile and handshake before he leads you to an elevator.

"So, how did this become FBI jurisdiction?"

Tugging on the end of your blazer sleeve you answer, "there have been a rising amount of cases recently in this area, and it's just to help resolve the case before things escalate any further. Trying to avoid any unnecessary attention by the media by stepping in and taking over." You hope he buys your answer.

The man just grumbles under his breath before unlocking a door to the morgue. "Still don't know how these bear attacks are FBI jurisdiction."

"Neither do I. Just trying to do my job," you answer as you follow him to one of the slide tables. Opening the door, Dr. Evans pulls out a table with a covered body on it. Dr. Evans walks over to a small counter and grabs a couple pairs of latex gloves and a folder. Handing you a pair of gloves he proceeds to uncover the poor soul laying on the cold table.

"I'll admit, this is the strangest bear attack I've ever seen. Normally when a bear eats something there isn't much left over other than the bones. This lad is still quite intact, other than the lack of face which would have made him unidentifiable if it weren't for a concerned family member."

Looking over the report in your hand you skim over all the information quickly before eyeing the victim in front of you. From the chin up to the hair line there was nothing, just a gnarly hole, as if each part was chewed or clawed out. This isn't a bear attack, Adam must've found a nest. "Where did they say the body was found?"

"He was found just off a camp trail outside of town, passed route 46. Lots of families go there during the summer since it's pretty nice. As of last year though, several people have gone missing only to either never be found or to end up like this man right here."

Nodding you place the autopsy into the doctor's awaiting hand.

"Thank you for sparing your time with me Dr. Evans," you say while bowing your head slightly. With that you are escorted back to the elevator.

"I'm sure you can see yourself out."

—-------

Sitting in your car you rest your forehead on the steering before letting out a shaky exhale, "Of course it had to be a fucking vampire nest. You just had to find a nest didn't you Adam?" A tired chuckle leaves your lips before you lean back in your seat. Looking over your shoulder you put your car in gear before tearing out of the hospital parking lot back to the motel.

—-------

"Her car finally pulled up," Chan muttered, glancing out the window.

"Who showed up?" Wonwoo asked, after setting down the box he brought in from storage.

"Just some strange person from out of town. They give me some weird vibes. Already let Cheol know them last night," Chan explains as he flips the page of the magazine in front of him.

Dusting his hands off, Wonwoo glances in the direction Chan pointed at, but only managed to see the door closing behind the person in question.

"Anything else you know?"

Huffing, Chan pushed his magazine away from him, "Jun mentioned that they were at the bar last night for dinner. Said something about camping with a friend. Honestly, if you just want to hear about it, ask the person that actually talked to them."

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo thumped the boy on the back of the head before heading over to Jun's bar.

—-------

Walking into the bar Wonwoo’s eyes scanned the bar before checking the back, the only person showing up being Mingyu.

"I thought Jun was coming in today?"

"Nah," Mingyu shook his head, "he only came in to drop off some stuff we ordered. He's out with Vernon and Soonyoung doing a patrol. You know, trying to deal with that issue."

Nodding slowly, Wonwoo eased his way into the stool. The pack house had been in the property for over a decade and this has been the first time any of them had to deal with something supernatural, besides other werewolves that is. It's put a bit of strain on the pack, trying to maintain normalcy, but also trying to keep their surrounding woods clear of any threat that might come to them.

—-------

Pacing the small expanse of your room, you let out a frustrated groan. It's been almost a week since you got the call, considering you had to drive from Wyoming and do some investigating to figure out what mess Adam had gotten himself into. Gripping the hairs at the back of your head you grumble, "Fuck. It's been long enough for him to have been drained. Worse is if they decide to do a transfusion."

Coming to terms you decide that tonight is the last night you'll be staying in the motel. You have a camping trip to take starting tomorrow morning.

—-------

Masterlist

Previous | Next

Dm or ask to be added to tag list

[footballxixstars]

Hi....

Is it possible to have a neco imagine. Maybe based on secretly getting married or engaged and the Liverpool lads find out. Thanks so much. I also love your writing..

The Secrets Out • Neco Williams

Neco walked into the training ground with his bag thrown over his back and headphones on playing his favourite music which hypes him up in time for training which right now he needs because he is tired. He waved to some of the cameras before walking through the door and making his way straight to the changing room needing to get there before he becomes late and has to pay a fine. He really is cutting time short today so he needs to hurry it up to the changing room. Everybody was already there talking, joking and getting ready for training when he walked through the doors, nobody really giving him a second glance. He did say his hellos to them though and answered their questions about his time away before getting changed too. Neco has after all just come back from a couple of days away so they wanted to know what it was like, what he did and how he was doing now. They wanted to make conversation with him but Neco really had to start getting changed.

“What’s that?” Trent questioned very, very loudly and sounded very shocked by whatever it was. This caused everyone else to promptly shut up and look to wherever Trent was looking at when those words came out of his mouth. Once Neco put his t-shirt on properly he also decided to look to see what everybody else was looking at because it was deathly quiet and he wasn’t liking that. Turning around he saw Trent looking at him with wide eyes and letting his eyes drift around the room he noticed that they all were looking at him. Namely his hand. Neco knew exactly what they were all looking at and what Trent was questioning but Neco decided to play a little bit dumb and get them to properly say it and see how long it takes.

“What?” Neco questioned them all wanting to see who’d be the first one to ask properly and not just stare at him which in all honesty was making him a little uncomfortable as well.

“Oh my god,” Alex added and Neco decided to pretend to look even more confused, liking the looks on their faces. It was fun messing with them a little bit by playing dumb especially because he could tell that they were all getting frustrated with him as well.

“WHAT?” Neco shouted just wanting one of them to answer him. He wanted one of them to blurt it out since he knew that they all wanted to.

“Why have you got a ring on your ring finger?” Andy finally asked, breaking the silence that had taken over the room. The question may seem a bit obvious because ‘ring finger’, it makes sense to have a ring on it but the thing that was probably shocking to his teammates was that the ring was on his left hand. It was on the finger that you usually put a wedding band on so they were all confused by it. Obviously, he could’ve just mistakenly put it on that finger or it could just be a promise ring or something but they were still shocked to see a ring on Neco’s finger. He may be 20 years old but in the eyes of his teammates, he’s still that nervous, awkward teenager.

“Why does it look like a wedding band?” Jordan asked moving closer to get a better look at it. He even took Neco’s hand into his own so he could look at the ring properly. Neco started to turn red at that comment and he knew that he could no longer play dumb. He couldn’t really hide it or lie either. All of them had already seen the ring on that finger and he is probably one of the worst liars ever so they would 100% know that Neco is lying to them so he might as well just tell them the truth.

“Because it is,” Neco said nonchalantly, trying to act as normally as possible as he turned back around to finish getting changed. They had to get out onto the training pitch soon so Neco really had to finish getting changed before everyone gets annoyed at him for holding them all up. Everybody’s eyes widened in shock at that, not really knowing how to take this news. They would constantly take the mick out of Neco for stuff just as a joke and one of them was always on his relationship status and how awkward he was with the opposite sex but now he’s literally stated that he’s married they can’t. None of them thought that Neco would get married and all of that especially without any of them knowing he was engaged beforehand.

“What?” Neco asked again when nobody else said a word. Neco hated the silence because usually, somebody is talking in the changing room. They do have a lot of big personalities after all who can’t be quiet for a long time but here they were all stunned into silence just because Neco was wearing a wedding band. He didn’t think that it was that big of a deal but apparently it was to the rest of the team. It was probably more of a shock than anything but still, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. It could also be because none of them suspected anything like this to come out of this training session.

“YOU’RE MARRIED?!?!” Andy shouted being the first one to break the silence… again.

“YOU WERE ENGAGED?!” Curtis shouted being the next one to speak out, not allowing Neco the opportunity to answer Andy at all so he went to answer now but this time he got interrupted by Trent.

“YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!” Trent shouted.

“Yes,” Neco stated looking slightly offended by what Trent had said. Was it that unbelievable that he has a girlfriend who is now his wife? By the guys’ reaction, it apparently was quite unbelievable. Neco was slightly offended. Why don’t they think he could have a girlfriend?

“Are you really that shocked that I’m married?” Neco questioned, sounding quite unsure of himself. He knows that the guys love joking around with him and taking the mick out of him wherever possible so this was probably one of those times but it could be true. They could be telling the truth and that was making Neco feel slightly uncomfortable because maybe he didn’t deserve you. Before he could think too deeply into it though his thoughts got interrupted by somebody answering his question.

“It’s not really that. I think it’s more that none of us expected it since you never really spoke about your partner or anything,” Hendo tried to explain. Neco just nodded his head kind of understanding what they were saying about it all and he was guessing that it did kind of make some kind of sense. They weren’t expecting it because he had never spoken to them about marriage or anything.

“Although I’m annoyed that we weren’t told or invited to the wedding, we are going to have a celebratory party and there is nothing you or your wife can say to stop it from happening,” Alex stated. All the guys let out murmurs of agreement at the party aspect and Neco rolled his eyes but agreed. Any excuse for a party and they’ll take it.

“That we can do,” Neco said, agreeing with them for the both of you although he will have to ask, tell you when he gets home later after training. He’s actually slightly excited to have a small party with the guys considering it’s been a while and it’s always a lot of fun especially when Hendo gets on that dance floor so the party doesn’t seem like a bad idea. He knows that you’ll probably enjoy it too so why not organise a party with them?

That was the end of that conversation though since they were getting called out to start the training session and that was more important than Neco’s love life. Surprisingly nobody brought up the ring or anything else to do with it for the rest of the day and the Neco being married conversation didn’t get brought up again. Except for Klopp who said his congratulations but other than that nobody spoke about it. The thought that everybody knew that he was married though wouldn’t leave Nico’s head and he knew that he had to go home and tell you. It wouldn’t be fair else for him to know that his teammates all know and you to be clueless to it all. Telling you though wouldn’t be bad since he knew you wouldn’t be annoyed after all it was mainly his own fault that nobody else knew about the wedding and engagement so you definitely wouldn’t be annoyed by people knowing.

Saying his goodbyes to the team he quickly grabbed his stuff and left the training ground. All he wanted to do was get home to his new wife and cuddle with you so he couldn’t wait to get away from the training ground no matter how much he loves football he just wanted to get home. He couldn’t get out of there quick enough. You were in the kitchen making some food when Neco walked through the door and he just placed his bag on the floor before making his way over to you. The past few days he’s struggled to keep his hands off of you so having to go to training for a few hours without you there was difficult so he was happy that training had finally finished and he could go back to you. His new wife.

“Hello my beautiful wife,” Neco said, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you before placing a soft kiss on your neck.

“Hello, my husband,” You replied giggling, not getting tired of calling him that. Not yet anyway you may soon but it’s only been a few days since the two of you became husband and wife so it’s still new, it’s still the ‘honeymoon’ phase of the marriage although you haven’t been on your honeymoon yet. You can’t go on it till the summer but you’re looking forward to the honeymoon. Just you and Neco alone, in another country, nobody to bother you. It’s going to be good but you just have to spend some time with him here in Liverpool before you can get to the actual honeymoon.

“The guys know that we’re married,” Neco said into your neck and although it was muffled you still heard him clearly. You stopped what you were doing and pulled away from Neco so you could face him properly and talk to him properly.

“How?” You questioned him. You didn’t mind if his teammates knew about the two of you being married but both you and Neco still decided to not tell anybody about the engagement let alone the wedding. You both knew the comments that the two of you would get if you told people that you were married, not particularly from his teammates or anything but the more people that know the more likely those comments would be made. The comments would be made considering how both of you are and decided to go and get married and those comments were the main reason neither of you really wanted to tell anyone other than close family. If the media got a hold of it too it means that more people will know and there would be a lot of uproar about it probably as well as random people wanting to put their input into your relationship. A relationship that they know nothing about. That’s the reason why only your close family and very few friends knew about the engagement and marriage.

“They saw the wedding band on my finger,” He stated raising his hand a little bit. Yours went to him and you started to play with his ring which you’ve picked up as a habit over the past few days. Whenever you get a hold of his hand you instantly start to play with his wedding ring since it’s calming and it reminds you how Neco will always be there for you. The same way that you’ll twist and play with yours whilst alone. You’ll always know that Neco is with you that way even if he isn’t physically next to you.

“They were fine with it, happy for us I think. A bit annoyed that they weren’t invited or told about it but I guess that’s a bit of a given. Trent was shocked that I had a girlfriend. Apparently, we’re going to have a party soon to celebrate it all to make up for not telling or inviting them,” Neco said laughing.

“That we can do,” You stated laughing with him. Yeah, you can have a celebratory party with his teammates to make up for the fact of not telling them about the engagement or wedding, or inviting them to the wedding.

MASTERLIST | MORE WILLIAMS

[sunflowerdarlingx]

Fred Weasley - “Fred doesn’t date”

Hi everyone, how are you all? 

Here is another Fred imagine, I planned on writing a smut but I enjoyed the direction this took, please let me know if you would like another part to this! 

I think if I write a second and third part it will lead to a bit of a steamy chapter. 

Female Reader

Warnings: None

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

Fred Weasley wasn’t the kind of guy to catch feelings. He had his fun with girls who were up for it, but after a few fucks he’d cut them off and move on to the next. The cycle had done him good the last two years, and he didn’t intent to break it during his last year. But boy, was he in for a shock.  

Fred was stood on the platform saying goodbye to his mum when something caught his eye, well, someone caught his eye.  She was beautiful, her hair was tied up into a cute messy bun, her glasses stood on the tip of her nose, her small hand moving to push them further up as she smiled at the woman she was with. Her smile was gorgeous, and Fred couldn’t help but smile whilst he looked at her.  

She definitely wasn’t in Rons year, or Ginny's, but she didn’t look younger than them. He moved away from his mum whilst she wrapped her arms around George, standing with Harry, Ron and Hermione he thought he’d ask them if they knew her.  

“Hey Hermione, who’s that girl over there, with the glasses”, Hermione turned her head in your direction, “Oh, that’s Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a year above us, Hufflepuff I believe, why?”.  

“Just wondering”  

“Oooo, Fred’s got a crush” Ron laughed loudly.  

“Fred’s got a crush, Who?” Molly said loudly as she looked around the platform.

Fred groaned before shoving Ron, “No one mum, we better get on the train before it’s too late. Love you mum, c’mon George” he made his way on to the train, checking behind him for Y/N but she was nowhere to be seen.  

The majority of the train ride to Hogwarts was spent catching up with Lee, Angie, Kaitie and Alicia. The time during the ride came where they had to get into their robes, George and Fred went first down towards the changing compartments on the train, they went a bit earlier than normal so not many people were waiting. They were stood outside discussing their first prank of the year when Fred noticed Y/N walking towards him.  

“Yeah mate, I got the map off Harry so we should be....” Fred stopped mid-sentence when he saw Y/N, mesmerised by the way she moved so gracefully down the train.  George looked behind him, following Freds’s eyeline and smirked when he saw her.  

“You’ve not got a chance mate” he laughed and snapped Fred out of his daydream.  

“oh yeah? Whys that?” he said, a bit more aggressive than he should have.  

“Well look at her and then look at you Freddie, that pretty much sums it up” George ruffled his hair.  

“Are you remembering that we are identical twins”  

“Oh, fuck, yeah, so we are” George laughed “point proven even more, because I definitely wouldn’t stand a chance”.  

Fred shook his hand and smacked his shoulder when you got closer. They both turned to look at Y/N as she got closer, “Hi guys” she smiled, raising her hand giving them a soft wave.  

“Hi, you alright?” George asked, returning her smile, “yeah I’m not too bad thanks, yourself?”.  

“I’m good thanks, I’m George Weasley” he held his hand out for her to shake, “I’m Y/n Y/L/N” she peered over George's shoulder towards Fred, “and you are?”  

Fred tried to speak, he really did but he was distracted by her. Her doe eyes staring up at him and her lips were slightly glossy, he wanted to feel those lips against his, her hand was held out to shake his and Fred couldn’t get over how soft they looked.  

“ech hem” George cleared his throat and shoved Fred.  

“What..shit sorry, I’m Fred” he placed his hand in hers, they were even softer than he imagined. The door to the changing compartment opened and Cedric Diggory walked out.  

He nodded at the two boys before spotting Y/N and wrapping his arms around her, “alright trouble, how was your summer?”.  

George slipped into the changing room and Fred stood awkwardly beside them, “it was good thanks Cedric, how was yours?”, “Eh yeah it was alright thanks babe, spent a couple weeks in Italy” he smiled down at her fixing his tie.  

Fred couldn’t help but listen in on their conversation, the way Cedric called her babe made him a bit uncomfortable. How had he never noticed her before today? Surely, they’ve seen each other around schools or at parties?

“I’m jealous, I’d love to go to Italy, I’ve seen pictures, it really looks beautiful” Fred loved listening to the way she spoke, her voice like silk.  

“You should definitely go if you get the opportunity, I’ll maybe take you one day if you want” he winked at her and Y/N laughed lightly “I'll hold you to that Diggory”.  

“You better, I better get back to the boys but find me during the feast yeah?” he said and walked off down the train when he got a nod from her.

Y/N turned her attention back to Fred, “so how’re you Fred?” she turned her body and tilted her head up to look up at him.  

Fred was shocked that she was starting up a conversation with him “I’m good thanks yeah” his voice came out a bit squeaky to start with, he cleared his throat, blushing, internally smacking himself “how about yourself?”.  

Y/N grinned up at him and his blushing state “I’m good thank you, excited to get back to school, I’ve kind of missed it”.  

“I know what you mean, trust me when you live in a house with a family as big as mine, the space alone at Hogwarts is enough to have you craving being back” he laughed.  

“I’ve heard there is a lot of you Weasleys, how many of yous are there?” she fiddled with clothes in her hand.  

“Well, there’s mum and dad, and then my older brothers Bill, Charlie and Percy, then myself and George and then Ron and Ginny” Freds face lit up slightly whilst he talked about his family, Y/N couldn’t help but smile up at him when she noticed.  

“I’ve met Ginny before, she’s lovely” Y/N said, “actually I think I’ve met your brother Charlie before, does he work in Romania?” she questioned, and Fred raised his eyebrows, curious as to how she knew Charlie.  

Just as Fred was about to answer George came out of the compartment, “all yours brother”, “eh yeah mate, I’ll meet you back at the compartment.”

George raised his eyebrow, the stare he got back from Fred was a clear ‘fuck off’, he smirked and said goodbye to Y/N before heading back down the train.  

Fred turned back to Y/N “yeah Charlie does work in Romania, how’d you know that?”.  

“My brother Thomas works there too, you’ve maybe met him, they’ve been good friends since school”. Fred did indeed know Thomas; he’d met him a few times actually.  

“No way? Yeah, I know Thomas, he’s a good lad” Fred said and noticed a group of first years coming towards the compartment. “You’d better go get changed, first years are coming down”. It was well known that groups of first years often stopped older students who were at the compartments and bombarded them with eager questions about Hogwarts.

Y/N turned behind her and groaned, “it’s okay, you go first, you were here before me”.  

“Trust me, you go first, more likely to ask you questions with you looking all cute and innocent than are with big old me” he laughed not realising that he had called her cute.  

Y/N blushed slightly before nodding and making her way into the compartment. She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she got changed, of course she knew who Fred and George were, they were the famous Hogwarts pranksters. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have a crush on him, she’d fancied him since her third year and the fact he just called her cute had her blushing.  

She pulled her knee-high socks over her legs, she looked at herself in the mirror and she was quite excited for Fred to see her when she walked out, not that she thought he’d have any interest in her, she just thought she looked hot.  

She had on her usual white shirt with the top three buttons undone, her black skirt which was a bit shorter than last year, her yellow and black tie was wrapped loosely round her neck, her socks stopped just above her knee and she had simple black pumps on.  

As she opened the compartment door, Fred couldn’t help but look her up and down, not only did she look beautiful, but she also looked so fucking sexy. Her hair was a bit messier than it was on the platform but he kinda liked it even more and her glassed were resting on top of her head. She pulled them down onto her nose and looked up to Fred. He bit his lip to stop himself from smirking down at her. Y/N winked at him, mouthing a thank you before making her way back to her compartment.  

-

During the first two weeks Fred had been noticing Y/N all over school, he may or may not have been using the map to see where she was. He’d often see her out by the lake herself or in the library and would ‘just so happen’ to find himself in those places when she was there. Fred wasn’t a stalker, he wasn’t even close to it, he just really enjoyed her company and as time went on, he learned that she enjoyed his company to.  

They got a lot closer and soon they were even arranging to meet, Fred often keeping her company whilst she studied or them spending time out in the gardens having little picnics or watching the stars at night.  

Now I know what you’re thinking, they sound like dates, but they were not dates. Fred didn’t date.

Fred had noticed that he was starting to care about Y/N, quite a bit actually, but he didn’t act on it. He figured it was just because he hadn’t gotten laid in a while, that was mainly due to the fact that all his attention was on Y/N.  

In all honesty Fred was starting to fancy her, he loved spending time together, he loved their deep chats and flirty banter, he loved the way her nose scrunched up when she laughed and the little snorts she would make when she found one of his jokes particularly funny. He also found himself getting a bit jealous, watching her throughout meals laughing with the idiots in Hufflepuff or when she had to cancel her plans because one of the prefect boys needed a partner for their patrols.  

-

On this particular day, Fred was stood waiting for Y/N to meet him, they had planned to go for a swim down at the lake with George and Lee. He heard footsteps and looked up, only to see Y/N walking down the steps with Cedric.  

She was in a little sun dress which highlighted all the beautiful curves of her body. Her hair was in two braids and her regular glasses had been swapped for a pair of sunglasses on top of her head.

She jumped from the last step and wrapped her arms around Fred, he gripped her hips tightly “Hiya Freddie, ready for a swim?” her cheerful voice mumbled into his neck.  

He put her down on the floor and grinned down at her “of course I am.”, he looked over at Cedric “you alright mate?”.  

Cedric frowned slightly “yeah thanks, yourself? Didn’t realise you were coming swimming”.  

Fred couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, “yeah I’m good, better now this ones finally ready for a swim”, he winked at Y/N before wrapping his arm around her shoulder, “better get to the lake before George and Lee get bored of waiting”.  

Freds smirk quickly left his face while he watched Y/N and Cedric in the water, she had her arms wrapped around him, trying to push him under the water but Cedric just laughed as he dunked them both under the water.  

“Stop being a moody git and ask her out” George splashed Fred, “sitting there with a face like a slapped arse isn’t doing anyone any good, and if I'm honest, Lee and I are getting fed up with that frown on your face. Plus, you can’t keep leading her on forever”

Fred wiped the water out of his eyes before splashing George back, “I don’t ask girls out” he stated bluntly “that’s how things get complicated and what do you mean leading her on?”  

“You know exactly what I mean” George raised his voice slightly before lowering it again “You’ve heard the rumours going round about how the ‘famous prankster’ Fred Weasley is actually settling down, all these little dates you have just lead her on”.

“We don’t go on dates, we hang out”  

“ha sure, nights under the stars and romantic walks into Hogsmeade aren't dates. You need to decide what you want with her, if you don’t want anything serious then you need to leave her alone to flirt with Cedric”, George swam away over to Lee and wrapped his arms around him to get a piggyback.  

Fred moved to sit on the grass beside the lake, did he want something more than a friendship with Y/N? It was clear they fancied each other, was he really leading her on?  

He made his way back up to the castle, leaving them at the lake, he needed some time to decide what he wanted.  

Y/N was splashing around the lake with the boys when she noticed Fred was missing, “Hey George, where's Fred gone?” he shrugged his shoulders and started splashing Lee again.  

Cedric pulled Y/N closer to him by her waist “I wouldn't worry Y/N, he’s a big boy” Y/N frowned at Cedric before giggling when he tickled her sides.  

“Come with me to look for him?” she asked and started walking back towards the grass, Cedric groaned but followed anyway.  

“Why don’t we go grab a snack from the kitchen and get changed and then you can find him at dinner? I wanted some time alone with you today..if im being honest”  

“Fineeeeee” she dragged out her words as she wrapped her towel around her.  

-

Fred was laid in his bed, thinking about everything that had happened over the last few weeks, George was right, it wasn’t fair to lead her on, but Fred knew for sure that he wanted her to be his – the thought of her being with someone else made him sick to his stomach.  

He thought it over and decided that the only difference would be the labels and he kind of hoped that if lads knew she was his then they’d stop flirting with her. They already went on dates and the thought of finally getting to kiss her and hold her just made the idea even more appealing.  

He stood up off his bed deciding to make his way back to the lake. When he reached the corridor by the kitchen, he turned the corner and he saw Y/N against the wall with Cedric in front of her. His elbow resting on the wall above her head as his other hand pushes some of her baby hairs out of her face. Her little giggle echoed through the hall and Freds heart broke at the sight, crumbling when Cedric placed a soft and delicate kiss to her cheek.  

Part Two

[tossawary]

Because my brain does NOT stop even when I’m grounded, today my brain told me, “Hey, I figured out how to make a Hobbit Fusion AU work.” And I was like, “Great! We’re working, though.” And my brain was like, “I’ve figured out how to make it a Pre-Canon Canon Divergence AU for Moshang.”

And I was like, “...I’m listening.”

The Hobbit is another one of my Comfort Media and it got brought up when I was asking about that, but I was feeling kind of “eh” about mixing Tolkien mythology with SVSSS. I mean, the mental picture of Dwarf Mobei-Jun is extremely funny and Shang Qinghua would make a great hobbit! But that interpretation felt a little too direct for my AU tastes.

So, hm, now I have another potential Big Bang contender. My love for The Hobbit is very, VERY strong and looking at my current outline, I have to be like, “Yeah, this could be 50,000 words, no problem.”

It’s a very good outline!

-

After saving Mobei-Jun, Shang Qinghua bailed A.S.A.P. because he honestly thought Mobei-Jun was going to kill him. He psyched himself out of sticking around before Mobei-Jun woke up. Mobei-Jun didn’t get enough information to track Shang Qinghua down.

Shang Qinghua (who isn’t SQH because he isn’t the Peak Lord) decides that he can’t fucking take it anymore and bails from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect too. The System objects, but also falls into line when Airplane shrieks at it. Airplane is going to go become a humble merchant and inventor and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop him!

It turns out that Shang Qinghua’s presence or help was actually crucial to stop some Emperor of the Abyss from taking over the Ice Palace and the Northern Desert. Airplane is like, “Oh, yeah, I remember… offhandedly writing something about that happening in the past off-screen?” It was one of those things that he just threw in there because it sounded really cool, and it gave Mobei-Jun another reason to “owe” Shang Qinghua and not kill him immediately, but he never got to elaborate on it because he was too busy writing stallion novel bullshit.

So, borrowing the lore from my “Horns” one-shot, an extremely powerful Emperor of the Abyss escaped the Eternal Abyss. This is some devouring horror being from the depths of the abyss, which ate everything in its vicinity in the abyss itself and crawled into the Demon Realm to eat more things. The Emperor of the Abyss was attracted to Mobei-Jun’s father. They fought. Mobei-Jun’s father should have won, but didn’t, because he was too fucked up (thanks to his own hedonism or something) to fight properly. What an asshole.

Mobei-Jun’s father was killed and devoured by the Emperor of the Abyss, which has made it… exponentially powerful. It’s now… basically a calamity. The desolation that it leaves in its wake across the Northern Desert is unspeakable. Mobei-Jun and his family, their allied clans, and pretty much all demons in the Northern Desert have had to flee.

Mobei-Jun is currently essentially a “guest” of the Sha Clan. He’s homeless. He’s lost the power of his ancestors. He’s a “king” without a kingdom. It’s humiliating. He needs to kill the abyssal creature to retrieve: his title, his ancestors’ power, and his kingdom.

While working for other demon clans to support his family and people, Mobei-Jun crosses paths with Airplane. Airplane has become a relatively successful merchant and inventor, and he calls himself Shang Houhua. He lives a very comfortable life and does his best to ignore anything resembling the plot. He’s pretty successful at ignoring the plot.

Mobei-Jun is never in a good mood these days, but he’s especially pissed off to see that human who abandoned him all those years ago. Airplane tries to argue that Mobei-Jun told him to fuck off, but Mobei-Jun is too angry. Airplane makes lots of offers in an effort to get Mobei-Jun to spare his life, one of which ends up being a claim that he can help Mobei-Jun kill the Emperor of the Abyss and make him a king again. Mobei-Jun pauses, now even more pissed off than before, and Airplane just starts babbling desperately to save his own skin.

Mobei-Jun was already forming a company to take on a Quest for the Northern Desert - in the hopes of slaying the Emperor of the Abyss and retaking his homeland. Part of the issue has been that forming the company is difficult. Mobei-Jun wants people who are loyal to HIM and ONLY to him. He won’t owe anyone else anything or promise them pieces of his homeland.

(Airplane is like, “Bro, I don’t know if you can afford to be so picky, but okay.”)

So Mobei-Jun is like… “I still want to kill you, but fine, you can come on our quest and help us.”

So Airplane ends up on the Quest for the Northern Desert, led by his very angry future murderer the “king without a kingdom” Mobei-Jun, to fight the calamitous Emperor of the Abyss who killed Mobei-Jun’s father. Fuck.

Some details beyond this opening premise:

Airplane and Mobei-Jun fall in love over the course of the quest, obviously. They have their own hijinks like each chapter of The Hobbit (equivalents to the trolls, to Rivendell, to Goblintown, to Beorn, to Mirkwood, and to Laketown, etc.). 

Oh, damn, I just realized that making a pre-fall Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang the Beorn equivalents would be so fucking funny.

The Emperor of the Abyss is a horrifying Smaug equivalent. It can totally talk because Airplane having a conversation with a draconian horror sounds incredible. I would love to have Airplane outwit the Emperor of the Abyss in some fashion.

Mobei-Jun and Airplane somehow manage to successfully kill the Emperor of the Abyss together. Like, together. Probably using some plot device whipped up or some clever plan devised by Airplane on his feet. Mobei-Jun trusts Airplane at a crucial moment and it all works out. Airplane actually gets Mobei-Jun his kingdom back.

I’m tempted to just skip over the Ring and not having a Ring equivalent. BUT if I made this into a longfic instead of a one-shot, I would have a Ring equivalent (if it was a one-shot, I would ditch the Ring equivalent). I think I would make Xin Mo the One Ring equivalent. During the Goblintown equivalent event, Airplane falls either into the Eternal Abyss or into Bing-Ge’s dimension, where he proceeds to successfully take up Xin Mo because he knows the trick and portal himself out of the Eternal Abyss, or he proceeds to outwit Bing-Ge in some fashion and uses the Xin Mo sword to portal himself back to the right dimension.

So then Airplane is stuck with this super powerful sword that he doesn’t want to use again because he KNOWS that it will fuck him up. He KNOWS that it will FUCK HIM UP. So Airplane has to go through the rest of the quest ignoring the temptation of the Xin Mo sword that he is absolutely not supposed to have and can’t possibly let anyone else have.

(Oh, man, imagining the influence of Xin Mo giving Airplane extra horny thoughts about Mobei-Jun on the rest of the quest is very funny. Like, Airplane was already hot for Mobei-Jun, but now it’s worse and he might never have a normal thought ever again.)

Bagginshield Movie Hug when Airplane turns up again, for sure. Mobei-Jun thought he was dead. Mobei-Jun smiles and everything, until he remembers to frown again.

I’m feeling like I don’t want Airplane to use Xin Mo to help defeat the Emperor of the Abyss, but it makes sense if he does. Him not using it doesn’t make much sense. I do like the idea of Airplane dealing the killing blow and Mobei-Jun’s pride being hurt by Airplane being the one to kill it. I also like the idea of Mobei-Jun being a little smitten by Airplane just… loyally handing him his kingdom and restoring the power of his ancestors. I also really like the idea of Airplane just… not having some super powerful plot device up his sleeve on the quest.

Like, instead of Airplane’s Author God knowledge totally setting him up to deal with this thing no problem, Airplane had NO FUCKING PLAN when he set out with Mobei-Jun. He was talking completely out of his ass when he said he knew how to help Mobei-Jun. That this all worked out at all is almost completely due to luck and improvisation.

That feels MUCH more true to both Shang Qinghua and to Bilbo Baggins. Lucky lads of fast-talking, complaining, lying, not knowing what the fuck is really going on, thirsting after kings with tragic backstories, and somehow not dying despite winging it all the time.

Instead of goldsickness, Mobei-Jun is forced to deal with some side-effects of consuming the Emperor of the Abyss to regain the power of his ancestors. (Demon cannibalism rituals. Yeah.) He starts acting really scary and out-of-character and forceful, until Airplane loses his nerve and runs away. Maybe under the influence of the late Emperor of the Abyss, Mobei-Jun actually tries to kill him? I could see Mobei-Jun trying to kill Airplane for the Xin Mo sword which dealt the finishing blow on the Emperor of the Abyss.

(I need a better name for this thing. If I can’t come up with something that actually sounds good, I might just call it “The Calamity”, but that’s giving me BOTW vibes so I don’t like it. Maybe I’d call it “The Desolation” or something? Ehhhh, I don’t really like that either.)

I want to have a Battle of the Five Armies equivalent, if only so Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang can swoop in as benevolent helpers as the Beorn equivalents. Currently, I’m seeing three options. 1) The orc army equivalent are neighboring demon lords who want to strike while the new Mobei-Jun is getting established. 2) The orc army equivalent is Linguang-Jun trying to kill his nephew and take power at the last minute. 3) The orc army equivalent is Bing-Ge here with an army and he’s pissed off and wants his sword back.

On one hand, 1 and 2 would be SO MUCH EASIER to pull off. I could be really lazy about the whole thing. On the other hand, 3 would be much fresher (more surprising and links back to the Xin Mo element), more challenging and the idea of pre-fall Tianlang-Jun facing off with Bing-Ge delights me. Kick his ass, Tianlang-Jun!

(Su Xiyan gets involved? My brain says YES. Kick his ass, Su Xiyan!)

Also, I was sad about there being no Fili and Kili equivalents, because Mobei-Jun has no friends, and I’ll have to make up a company pretty much from scratch. (Sha Hualing is too young and Luo Binghe hasn’t been born yet.) BUT then I was like, “Where’s Linguang-Jun in all this?” And I would absolutely have Linguang-Jun be a part of Mobei-Jun’s Company. Instead of nephews, Mobei-Jun has a sketchy uncle who might be trying to kill him. Keeping Linguang-Jun out of it might be easier, but actually doing some character-building with him sounds fun and challenging, and I’d rather limit the number of OCs if possible.

Mobei-Jun manages to shake off the goldsickness equivalent somehow, probably through “the power of love” (and/or straight-up “dual cultivation” with Airplane?). Moshang makes up while Mobei-Jun is apparently mortally wounded from fighting Bing-Ge and Airplane thinks this is all his fault. But Mobei-Jun doesn’t die! It’s all good!  

It’d be pretty funny if there was a “Returning to the Shire” equivalent where Airplane leaves because he thinks Mobei-Jun hates him now and never wants to see him again. So then Mobei-Jun has to track his man down like, “Get back here and marry me. (Also I am so sorry for trying to kill you. Please forgive me. I hate myself so much for that.)”

And they all live happily ever after!

Holy shit, this wasn’t in Proud Immortal Demon Way.

[xiaoyunenigma]

Pretty Little Liars (Chase X Chief)

A/N: XD another special chapter for @knnw-a because I just can't help but fangirl like a fool for her small comic teehee XD

Because my god its soo cute!!

I also added an extra scene where Chief blushed with Carin

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I think we all know how this would go by now XDXD

This. Is. HIGHLY. Suggestive. (Chase is very dominant in this, eheks!)

___

Lying.

That is what Chief Charlie Burns is good at.

Superb, as a matter of fact. It came to a point where he had risked his own life due to his... deception.

To say Chase was disappointed was an understatement. This distaste worsened when Chief flat out told Chase to not be bothered about his business with Carin, a female human that associated with them during the Lad Pioneer incident.

'This isn't going too well...' Chase growled, swinging a right hook on the wooden training equipment. 'Not only he's avoiding me, Chief is starting to get closer with that...femme.' his optics narrowed and he slammed a mean chop to the branch, nearly snapping it off.

"Oi! Be mindful of it! I'm using that too!" Heatwave yelled, snapping the police bot out of his brooding.

Chase sighed and wiped his tired face, still contemplating about confronting his partner about this.

"This has to stop." Chase muttered out loud and walked off, leaving his teammates in confusion.

"What has got to stop?" Blades asked, tilting his helm towards Chase. "Is it my singing? Or is it Heatwave's nagging? I mean, I understand that Heatwave is kinda bossy but-Ow!" Blades was promptly silenced with a knuckle to his helm by the firetruck.

"Hey! I was speaking the truth!" Blades cried out, pouting at his leader.

"You want another one?" Heatwave replied, holding his fist up again.

"No!" Blades denied, sticking his servos out. "You're mean..." he added softly.

"Yes. I am. Got a problem?" Heatwave rolled his optics, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Can't you be nicer?" Blades asked, rubbing his injured area.

"Sure. On one condition."

"Name it!" Blades said eagerly.

"You behave." Heatwave smirked and knocked the helicopter's forehelm before trotting away, leaving the yellow and white mech to sulk even more.

"Aww, come on!"

---

"Chief! I wish to speak to you at this instance!" Charlie demanded, using his holoform as he barged into the human area. On a normal occasion, Chase deemed that this humanoid avatar is an extra and seldom used it.

Today shall be an exception for the mech, and we all know WHY.

"Chase, what have we talked about coming into the human area?" Chief sighed. Taking a large gulp of coffee, the police officer set his cup down to face the ticked off Cybertronian in human disguise.

"Talk. NOW." Chase seethed, yellow eyes contrasting with Charlie's dark ones.

"About what?" the Chief replied with a clear annoyance in his tone.

"Why are you ignoring me? Why do you always lie to me? WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH CARIN!?" Chase snapped, slamming both hands down on the table.

"Where is this sudden anger coming from?" Charlie's eyes twitched as he stood up to level with his angered partner.

"Haven't I told you that it's-"

"You tell me it's none of my business, ONE MORE FRAGGING TIME, I will not hesitate to use force." Chase lowly growled, successfully making his charge flinched.

"Chase, I can explain-"

"Do it then." The mech cut him off, which was a first for the both of them. All these while, Chase has been so obedient and lenient with the man that Charlie failed to realise that his guardian has feelings too.

And BOY, he is NOT happy now.

"Why are you always lying? Does that mean you don't actually care for me, sir? Is this another 'White lie' or so in your human terms? EDUCATE ME THEN!" Chase seethed.

Seeing that the aging human wasn't replying, the impatient mech decided to take matters to his own servos and made a grab of the man.

"H-HEY! PUT ME DOWN!" Charlie yelped, hitting Chase's back as the mech slung him over his shoulder. Chief's attempt on getting loose had failed as he was brought into a room.

To be exact, HIS room.

Locking the bedroom door, Chase harshly dumped the man on the bed and pinned him down, not letting the policeman escape.

"You're. MINE." Chase lowly stated, sending shivers down Charlie's spine.

"It is MY business to know EVERYTHING about you. I am to be given the HIGHEST clearance of your secrets and to be kept NONE of your fibbings. ARE. WE. CLEAR?" Chase stated, his commanding aura surpassing Chief's usual strict demeanour.

"C-Chase-"

"I said ARE WE CLEAR?!"

"Y-Yes..."

"Yes what?"

Charlie stared up at the mech, unable to answer as he gaped in shock. "I-I-"

"You BELONG to me. Is that clear?" Chase hinted again, pressing closer onto the grey-haired man.

"Yes...Sir?" Chief hesitantly replied, which made it seemed like a question rather than a statement.

Sighing, Chase ran a hand through his holoformed hair and smirked at the terrified man.

"I see you are STILL in doubts of who is in charge of this situation. Let me give you a lesson then, Charlie."

[softyoongiionly]

Portraits of a Tiger || 04

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut (later), Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: language, depictions of violence both verbal and physical however they are fairly mild, mentions of war and power dynamics, there will be smut in future parts so, (18+ only please).

A/N: ahhh yes romance is in the air lads. I hope you like this new part!!! I’m having so much fun writing this series for you guys :) LOVE YOUUUUU

As always, a HUGE shoutout to my beautiful friend Rachel @bulletproofbirdy​ for her assistance with this fic. I love you sm and I hope you especially like what I’ve done with the place >:)

It’s been a few days.

Nothing of substance has happened since the night you kissed Yoongi by the river other than a clear shift in your relationship with him.  

He doesn’t treat you differently in front of the patrons at the market nor does he spare more than a glance your way when you’re delivering bread.

But every night, without fail: you meet by the river.

You speak about things that seem too heavy for the daylight: war, peace, hope, loss...

He listens to your thoughts and offers many of his own but the night always ends with his lips on yours.  

His hands moving across your body as if he’s trying to learn every inch of you.

Whilst you’d happily have him against a tree or down on the mushy floor of the riverbed, Yoongi always stops things before they go to far.

He whispers promises of a night without boundaries in a place you both can call your own.

He tells you that when the time is right, he will give you everything you deserve and more.  

You agree with him despite the desire that rages in your body.

You know it’s best to wait until things are more concrete between the two of you.  

So you part ways every time and spend the rest of the night longing for one another until sleep finally offers you momentary peace.

Until the dreams begin...

Today however, you are concerned with someone else’s dreams.

Namely, your dear friend, your original confident, the smartest gal in the world: Rachel.

After your first rendezvous with Yoongi, you had rushed over to her home and spent the better half of the night gushing about the kiss.

Of course, she had been over the moon for you and the two of you had jumped around her living room like a bunch of excited schoolgirls.  

However, towards the end of the conversation, particularly when Jungkook’s name was brought up she had grown slightly somber.

Although their interaction had been brief, the chemistry was palpable and as much you had faith in your friend’s abilities, you didn’t foresee her making a move on him.  

So- you have decided to take matters into your own hands.  

With a basket full of fresh bread, you walk down the dirt path towards their camp to begin the initial phase of your plan.  

It was unlike the members to be absent from the fields surrounding their tents but, you presume it’s because training had concluded for the day.

You expected to see Namjoon out on their bench cribbling in his journal but, there is no one to be found.

There is a bit of anxiety that comes over you as thoughts creep in of the day that this area truly is abandoned.

The day Yoongi and his battalion move on.

Deep in your gut, dread begins to grow but you force yourself to take a deep breath and focus on the objective at hand.  

You tug the bell to signal your arrival expecting Seokjin’s boisterous presence to greet you but, instead you hear a bit of shuffling before a hand slips out between the cloth to tug open the entrance.

Immediately, your heart ignites in a fit within your chest at the sight before you.

Yoongi stands there, body completely rid of his normal attire, with only a pair of tight-fitting long johns adorning his figure.

His hair is out of his usual updo and pushed away from his face, long platinum tendrils cascading down his strong chest.

“Oh- hi...” You cough as the tone of your voice is audibly strained.

He smirks, his eyes lighting up as he sees you, “Good evening. Delivery?”

A jagged nod comes from you as you extend the basket towards him, “Yes. Here you go, I added some-”

Yoongi’s lips are on yours then, interrupting your sentence, one of his hands taking the basket whilst his other hand settles on your cheek.

As usual, his lips eliminate any thought in your head unrelated to him, your body going slightly limp beneath his touch.

He lingers for a moment before pulling away, his brown eyes sparkling with satisfaction.  

“This color is beautiful on you.” He murmurs nodding to your dress and pecking your lips once more, “did you make this?”

You smile, licking the taste of him off your lips, “Thank you. My mom made it for me last spring.”

He grins, “She’s very talented.” He lifts the basket, “This is a wonderful thing to wake up to, my men are going to destroy it.”

You giggle, raising your brows, “Late night?”

“Very. We were out until sunrise.” He explains, “Much of our training is nocturnal and the forests around here allowed us to teach the new recruits some important skills; we all slept a little later than I anticipated...” He chuckles sheepishly, glancing behind him before his eyes fall upon you once more, “It’s nice seeing you in the daylight.”

You giggle, “Is it? That’s a relief, I feared that maybe the moonlight and the beauty of the river was what kept you coming back every night...”

Yoongi’s lips twitch as he adjusts the basket on his arm, “I think you know very well what keeps me coming back.”

Before you can offer another flirtatious quip, a ball of fluffy black hair shoves its way through the opening of the tent.  

It’s Jungkook and he looks as though he hasn’t been awake for more than 30 seconds.

“Hyung- is the bread...” He mumbles sleepily before his eyes widen as they spot you, “Oh- I’m sorry...” He bows his head, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Good uh...” He squints up at the sky, his lips pouted slightly, “Good evening Y/N.”

You bow your head, offering a smile, “Good evening. You didn’t interrupt at all, I was actually looking to speak with you when you have time. I know you’ve just woken up so, I can come back later...”

Jungkook’s cheeks heat up involuntarily as he steps behind Yoongi a little more, “Alone?”

Yoongi eyes you curiously, “What do you want with the boy?”

He chuckles at his younger brother who looks both intrigued and frightened all at once.

“We don't have to be alone.” You assure him, a bit of laughter leaving your lips, “It’s about my friend-”

“Rachel?” He assumes, wide-eyed, “Is she ok?”

You smirk knowingly, “She is. I was actually going to inquire whether or not you were interested in her but, I think I have my answer.”

“Ah- “ Yoongi interjects, looking at you pointedly, “You’re here to play matchmaker for my little brother?” He looks amused, his deep gaze boring into your own as he speaks again, “Don’t you have your hands full with another endeavor?”

The depth in his tone sends a bit of electricity up your spine and, you’re thankful that Jungkook doesn’t pick up on the bit of suggestion in his voice.  

He’s hung up on your reply and aching to know more.

So timidly he says, “Is she- maybe...interested in me?”

Averting your gaze away from Yoongi, you nod towards Jungkook, “I have a feeling she’s more than interested. However, she is incredibly stubborn and refuses to acknowledge the way you look at her. So naturally-” You gesture to yourself fluidly, “I decided to come here and ask you myself.”

“Naturally.” Yoongi agrees, his lips twitching, “Well, I don’t want to intrude on your plan so-”

As he tries to retreat back into the tent, you stop him with a raised hand, “Actually. I need your help after I speak with Jungkook so, don’t go far.”

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head, “You’re aware that I oversee a battalion of 20,000 men, correct?”

With a shrug, you gesture for Jungkook to come closer before throwing an incredulous look Yoongi’s way, “Romance waits for no one...”

“Neither does war.” He retorts with a smirk.

"In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.” You remind him, quoting a famous war strategist, “It won’t take long anyhow, plenty of time to return to your post, General.”

Jungkook, who has been zoning out for the last minute or so raises his brows at your tone, his lips parting in curiosity and glancing towards Yoongi.  

He doesn’t hear people quarrel with Yoongi often, even if they are joking so, hearing you speak so candidly to him causes him to wonder just how close the two of you have gotten.

If Yoongi is impressed by your knowledge, he doesn’t show it. But what he does do is raise his brows whilst his teeth secure themselves to his bottom lip.

“Make it quick.” He insists sharply despite the excitement dancing through his gaze.

Before you have the opportunity to respond, he disappears behind the curtain, leaving you alone with Jungkook.

“Hyung must really like you...” He observes softly, pursing his lips, “He isn’t the type to joke around with new people.”

Stifling a smirk, you shrug and gesture to the bench in front of their tent, “That’s a shame. Your hyung has quite the sense of humor. Now- I know you don’t have a lot of time, so I’ll make this quick.” You begin as the two of you sit, “Normally I’d like to approach a situation like this with a bit more class but to be frank, you won’t be in town long and after the way I saw you looking at Rachel, I don’t think you’ll mind my intervention.”

Jungkook blushes, his fingers coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear, “Ke-Keep your voice down, I don’t want my hyungs to hear about this...” He pleads, “They’ll tease me relentlessly.”

You allow yourself the grin now, admiring how shy he is but you concede not wanting to embarrass him.

“Do you not want them to know you’re courting someone?”

He shakes his head, “No I just don’t want them to know until I speak with her first. I know you say she’s interested but- I'd still like to hear it from her.  My hyungs will pester me about it constantly and if she ends up rejecting me, I don’t really want to be reminded about it.”

“I understand.” You concede, “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’m sure I’ve never seen her behave this way around a man before. It’s unlikely she will reject you...”

“Still-” He insists, the color on his cheeks deepening, “it's possible. I never assume people’s opinions of me.”

It’s very odd, you think, here is this fine specimen before you: handsome, experienced, talented, respected and yet- he doesn’t seem to see himself that way.

Sounds a lot like someone else you know...

“That’s probably best.” You smile, warming up to him rather quickly, “You are interested in her though, aren’t you?”

He bites his bottom lip in thought before nodding, a bit of shyness in his eyes, “I am yes. Though I’m not totally sure how you figured it out based on our limited interaction. I’ve only spoken to her once- and I made a fool of myself.”

You giggle, “Yes but, you saw her for the first time in the plaza, didn’t you? She stopped you right in your tracks.”

His toffee orbs widen, “How did you-?"

A smirk comes over your mouth as you once again shrug at his question, “My job requires me to be very observant.” You reply, “People often say more with their movements than their words.”

“Hey!” He grins, showing off his perfect teeth, “I think that too! Well- that's something Yoongi-hyung taught me. I’m trying to get better at it but, I find it harder to observe people I don’t know. Strangers make me nervous...”

His sudden warmth makes you happy as you didn���t really expect him to be this bubbly but, you’re happy he’s comfortable with you given your intentions behind this conversation.  

If he’s courting your friend, he’s courting you too.

“You could have fooled me.” You retort, “I saw the way you handled the clan leader...when I came by your tent, I was anticipating on meeting someone very different.”

Jungkook chuckles, “I get that a lot. I rarely live up to people’s expectations of me- I think that’s one of my strong suits. Aside from my brute strength obviously.”  

“Yes of course, we mustn't forget about that...” You concede, laughing lightly along with him, “So back to Rachel then- you plan on courting her yes?”

He shifts on the bench, his tan fingers coming up to adjust his peasant blouse, shyness returning to his features, “I would love to. She-” He pauses, looking away from you, his eyes deepening in thought, “Aish...she really is something isn't she?”

At his question, you smirk and allow warmth to fill your chest, “Now where have I heard that before.” You muse allowed, “I could facilitate a meeting between the two of you? Although- I will likely have to tell a teensy white lie because, if I warn her that you wish to meet with her- she would probably combust on the spot. Also, I doubt she would believe me...”

He smirks fondly, nibbling on the inside of his cheek before his brows furrow, “Why wouldn’t she believe you? She must know how desirable she is right?”  

“Certainly not. She has no idea. Which is why I finally decided to take matters into my own hands.” You explain, propping your chin on the palm of your hand, “Rachel is a brilliant woman. She could easily run a small country if the opportunity was presented to her but, she has no concept of how wonderful she is.”

Jungkook pouts his lips, “I was certain she knew. How could someone that beautiful not understand their own beauty?”

You raise your brows, “Do you recognize yourself as desirable?”

He snickers, “Don’t be silly. I might be a suitable partner because of my status as a warrior but, I don’t think there is much else I have to offer. That’s what has me so worried...what if you’re wrong about her desire for me?”

With an incredulous look, you shake your head in disbelief, “The two of you amaze me. You’re so brilliant and yet- so foolish at the same time. I assure you; you have plenty to offer. The women in this village nearly faint every time you pass- quite frankly, you are incredibly handsome with an unusual amount of talent and-”

Jungkook is smirking, pleased with your response as he interrupts you, “I thought you were interested in my hyung Y/N-” He teases and snickers as you roll your eyes.

“That is neither here nor there.” You insist, “The point is, the courtship is worth pursuing because I believe it will go well. So I came here to suggest a plan...”

“What is your plan dear matchmaker?” He chuckles, folding his hands and resting them on the table.

“My plannnn is-” You draw out the word before leaning in closely and divulging your ideas.

You are elated when he agrees and feel slightly giddy at the thought of your dear friend meeting up with the potential love of her life.

Romance certainly is in the air.  

The plan is set in motion after a few more moments of talking and the conversation ends with Jungkook eagerly rushing back to his tent to prepare.

Feeling satisfied with your healthy dose of meddling, you brush your dress off and start towards the exit of the camp.  

However, the deep voice of your suitor stops you in your tracks, sending butterflies directly into your stomach.

“Leaving without a goodbye?” Yoongi calls softly, departing from his tent.

You turn with a smile on your face to see him fully dressed in his training attire: fitted black pants and a matching tunic, his sword strapped faithfully to his hip.

“I figured I caused enough havoc amongst your battalion today. Besides, I wasn’t sure if you’d be dressed and I didn’t want to disturb you.” You explain, your hands sliding down to play with the fabric of your dress.

“If havoc is putting a ridiculous smile on my brothers face than please feel free to wreak havoc anytime you wish. I have dreaded the day where I’d have to convince him to go after his potential partner and you’ve gone and lifted that responsibility from me.” He explains, stepping towards you a bit more “He says his meeting with her tomorrow evening?”

“If all goes well.” You reply, your face heating up in light of his presence, “My plans usually play out successfully.”

“I have no doubts about that.” He chuckles, his feline gaze glancing behind you momentarily before returning back to your face, “Will I be seeing you tonight?”

Pretending to toy with the idea, you narrow your eyes and place a finger on your chin, “I suppose its possible, if you aren’t too busy with your duties here...”

“My duties?” He places a hand on his chest, stepping closer to you once again, “If anyone were to be tied up with their duties, I imagine it would be you. Being a full-time apothecary is enough but, now you’ve gone and taken up matchmaking as well.” Yoongi’s eyes glint as he stares at you, “You never have to concern yourself with whether or not I’ll have time for you...”

You resist the urge to throw yourself at him, frustrated by the effect he has on you.

“Then I suppose you will see me then.”

He grins, “Good.”

For a few seconds, the two of you stew in silence before the need to kiss him becomes too much to bear and you take the steps necessary to wrap your arms behind his neck and place your lips against him.

You can hear his sharp intake of breath as you do, his hands securing themselves at the base of your back.  

The movements of the kiss escalate quickly, and you find yourself forgetting that you’re stood in the middle of a military camp, where anyone could walk out and see you both canoodling in the courtyard.

Yoongi seems to realize this too as he pulls away with heavy breath and hesitation all over his face.

“My my my...” He murmurs, shaking his head, “You really have no regard for my well-being do you?”

His light scolding causes you to giggle which in turn breaks the disapproving expression on his face.

“I’m trying to improve your well-being actually.” You insist, your fingers toying with the tendrils of hair at the back of his head, a dreamy smile on your mouth.

He raises his brows, “Oh? How do you figure that?”

Before you can reply, the rustling coming from behind Yoongi pulls you out of your conversation.

The rest of his battalion have seemingly woken up and are beginning to flock to the courtyard in preparation for their training.  

Glancing behind him, Yoongi sighs before turning back to you reluctantly, “Tonight?”

You offer him a smile and step back out of his grip, “Tonight.”

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it before heading off to his men.

Tonight now seemed a century away despite the fact that the sun was already heading off towards the horizon.  

-The next day-

Your night with Yoongi followed the similar structure that it usually does.  

Deeping meaningful conversation, playful banter, difficult questions and well, a healthy dose of unresolved lust.  

He asserts the end to your displays of affection every time, offering the same words of comfort.

You’re fine with this of course.

You’d never want him to do anything he didn’t want to do, and you’d certainly want the first time you were intimate to be special.

However, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling dejected.

It’s not because Yoongi says it’s not the right time or that he doesn’t think the two of you were ready.

You respect him and his choices completely and would never attempt to coerce him beyond his initial responses but...

You are beginning to feel alone in your desire for him.  

For you, there has never been another to ignite such a powerful response within you.

You’ve never wanted anyone so badly.

It makes you feel insane and yet, here he is, so calm in his demeanor and easily able to refuse any opportunity to sate your hunger for one another.  

It’s very silly, you think, he is clearly interested in you.

He makes that very obvious.

And yet, you can’t help but feel confusion.  

He wouldn’t be in your village for much longer and soon enough you’d have to say goodbye for a length of time you’d rather not assign numerical value you to.

You wish you understood his intentions more and at the same time, you wish you were able to quell your desire for him.  

You did feel alone in that way.

Yoongi was an incredible, multi-faceted man with seemingly thousands of years’ worth of knowledge behind his eyes. He was open and yet so secretive all at once and because of that, you couldn’t understand why he behaved this way.

The two of you would intentionally rile each other up only for him to put a stop to things every time.

But it’s almost as if this was part of his plans with you all along.  

And you just couldn’t understand why.

So naturally, you end up running to the person who always keeps you grounded for advice: Rachel.

Although, after your conversation with Jungkook yesterday, you have multiple reasons for paying your friend a visit.

“He stopped things again before they went too far and-“ You sigh, looking down at her hands that secure a warm mug of tea, “I feel a little strange about it. I’m starting to feel like maybe he doesn’t desire me the way I desire him...”

Rachel is sat across from you on her sofa as she usually is, her legs tucked up on the cushion.  

She takes a sip of her tea before her brows furrow in disagreement as she shakes her head, “I sincerely doubt that. He was very, um...excited wasn’t he?”

He was, you think, and he usually is but that only adds to your confusion.

“I don’t know...” You groan, “...he says he is but- he keeps saying it’s not the right time. I’m worried I may be too lustful towards him; I’m wondering if it’s off putting.”

“He does not seem the type to play games. If he says it’s not the right time...he must have a right time in mind?” She suggests before looking at you pointedly, “And I don’t believe you are being lustful. Even if you were, what’s wrong with that”

Nothing.

Nothing is wrong with being lustful as long as you are being respectful which you can honestly say you are but, the insecurity you’re feeling is contributing to a bit of shame within you.

“I’ve never wanted anyone this way, I feel like I’m going mad. He seems so calm and collected and yet- here I am, flustered and confused. I’m used to having a handle on my emotions I guess and I wish I knew how he was able to keep himself so composed.” You ponder the end of her question, “There is nothing wrong with being lustful. I just don’t know if he feels the same if it’s so easy for him to control himself around me...”

Rachel nods along, her bright eyes listening intently before she pauses to think, “You know, you have to remember he is a ten-year veteran and the leader of the most elite military force in our country. He has so much control and discipline applied to himself in all areas, I can’t imagine he would be able to easily relinquish that control. Especially with someone he has so much affection for. I am certain it is not easy, merely well-practiced”

She has a point but then again, she usually does.  

You bite your lip, turning your attention to the fabric of the chair, picking at it, “You’re right. I suppose I’m being a little immature about this...I should just be more patient.”

It’s decided in your mind that you should move on to the other reason you came to visit her this evening: a deceitful conversation with a much happier ending.

“By the way, what are you doing this evening?”

She’s stood up now and striding over to the kitchen, rubbing your arm as she passes you, “You are not immature at all! I’m confident your general is worth the patience.” She assures you with a wink before she thinks to herself once again, “I don’t have anything in particular planned, why do you ask?”

You giggle at her wink and follow her with your eyes as she heads over to make herself another cup of tea, “I have a favor to ask you- that goes beyond our mutual agreement to keep each other sane.”

Rachel snickers and shakes her head, “I don’t know if there is much hope for our sanity but what do you need?”

You smile but it doesn’t totally reach your eyes, your mind annoyingly still occupied elsewhere, “You make a good point.” You concede before brightening your expression intentionally, “I had a customer today that inquired about the type of material the village school covers for children ages 3-5. They are considering enrolling their child this year and wanted to speak with a teacher. I was hoping you would be able to meet with them? I told them to stop by the school and speak with someone but I was hoping that someone could be you because you’re so experienced.”

Rachel brightens at the mention of a new student “Oh really? I would be happy to meet with them! At that it’s primarily playing games, reading stories and singing songs but I have a lovely little bunch of students that age already!” She cheers, clapping in front of her chest, excitedly.

Her joy is infectious, and you can’t help but grin despite your knowledge that she would certainly not be receiving a new student; you almost wish that she was though.  

“Great! Well they should be around right before sundown. I gave them your classroom number and a bit of background on you and the school.”

“Oh my goodness! That’s not far off...well I have to bring in the dried flowers for tomorrow���s art lesson anyway...oh and where did I put the new wax pencils. Did you see where I put them?” Rachel abandons her cup of tea on the counter and begins puttering around in the baskets on her kitchen table, completely distracted.  

You spot what she’s looking for and hold up set of pencils setting on the end table, “They’re right here..” You call, turning in the chair to hand them to her, “I would wear that blue dress of yours too, it’s very complimentary.” With this suggestion, you can’t help the glint in your eyes that shines through the bit of sadness still present there, “Well- thank you for your words of wisdom. I’m probably going to take a break from the river tonight, so I’ll be home if you need me for anything. I have no doubt that tonight will go wonderfully though...”

“Oh there they are!” She chirps, taking them from you before looking down at her current outfit, “I suppose I should change, I certainly look a bit of a mess...” She pauses then to look you, noticing the glimpse of sadness in your eyes. “Don’t hold yourself back from love, Y/N. Your general is certainly just as passionate about you. I would bet all the gold in the kingdom on it!”

The excitement and certainty in her tone is almost enough to pull you out of your funk but, the stubborn naysayer in your head has different plans.  

“No you don’t, you look wonderful! I just love the blue one on you.” You insist, before crossing your arms and slumping back against the chair, “I am not holding back, I’m just- trying to be reasonable I suppose. His passion is clearly controlled, and I guess I should work on controlling mine as well...” You explain matter of factly with a pout on your lips.

Rachel matches your pose as she steps around the chair to look directly at you, unconvinced, “Mmhmm. Perfectly reasonable.” She drawls sarcastically before chuckling when you attempt to kick your foot at her.  

“I am!” You assert, trying to hold back a smile, “I’m just some silly little girl fawning over the man of my dreams while he gets to CALMLY walk away like us canoodling against a tree doesn’t affect him- and I feel foolish for desiring him so much when he’s able to do so.”

Rachel lets out a cackle your display of frustration. “You are NOT a silly little girl. A silly grown woman? Maybe," She giggles, “but I am CERTAIN he wouldn’t have to address this “right time” so often if he didn’t desire you. Do what makes you feel powerful! But don’t play games with the poor Tiger’s heart needlessly...from what you have said he is a much gentler man than we’ve given him credit for. “Though,” She tilts her head, her hand coming up to fuss with her hair,  “you certainly shouldn’t seek advice from me. I spent the day with paste in my hair without realizing.”

Your pout deepens, “I would never play with his heart... I’m going insane with desire over here and he gets to be all collected like ‘when the right time comes- I promise you it will be worth the wait’ and oh look at me, I’m extremely handsome and I can just kiss passionately for minutes on end without going further...” You grumble haphazardly before you hesitate slightly, “Well I’m not sure what him being handsome has to do with it but you get my point.” A smile threatens your features even more when she mentions her hair, “Paste is all the rage darling, you are simply fashion forward. Besides- I have a feeling this uh- new student of yours will look out for you.”  

Rachel hugs herself as she laughs at your little outburst, “It has EVERYTHING to do with it! You know it does-” She accuses playfully, “I do get your point though. I’m certain you will meet again...and say what’s on your mind! You are much better at that than I am anyway.” Rachel’s face is full of hesitation then, shaking her head, “Most of my students “look out for me” by piling dandelions on my desk and leaving goopy handprints on my clothes...I hope this new student is sweet.”

A smirk plays on your lips then, dropping your other topic of conversation, “I’m sure they will be, their parents seemed nice enough...”

”Oh really?!? Do you know anything about them? Should I bring anything along? Are you sure they want to see me? Should I get going?!” She babbles excitedly, glancing towards her front door.

Her eagerness serves as your cue to head out, your stomach brewing with hunger, nerves and excitement.

You couldn’t wait to hear how tonight will go for her.

“It is almost sundown so I suppose I should get going...” You concedes with a sigh before offering her a genuine smile, patting her shoulder as you head towards the door, “Just bring your lovely self, they are very eager to meet you.”

“Okay, if you’re certain!” Rachel smiles, gathering a collection of dried flowers into a basket before heading for the door with you, “If you change your mind and go to the river after all YOU HAD BETTER TELL ME!”

“You look amazing-” You promise as you step past her through the doorway, “I have a feeling you’ll have more to tell me the next time we meet but I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Rachel looks confused for a moment before merely shrugging it off, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “Okay then, I’m off! I love you ok? Hang in there...”

You embrace her shortly unable to help the growth in your smile, “I love you too. I wanna hear about the meeting tomorrow ok?”

She agrees happily, already bounding off towards the schoolhouse, a basket of flowers in her hand.

Despite the uncertainty you may feel about your own romantic life, you are filled with joy at the thought of your dear friend starting a fairytale of her own.  

Even though she has absolutely no idea...

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

Rachel arrives at the schoolhouse just before sundown, using her master key to unlock the heavy oak door of the main entrance before heading off to her classroom.  

The windows surrounding the exterior of the schoolyard allow for the different hues of the sunset to stream in thorough the glass, providing a beautiful stroll down the hallway.

Rachel feels optimistic as she opens up the door, immediately setting the basket of flowers on a nearby desk and lighting the various lanterns around the room.  

The sun would be up for another half an hour or so but, Rachel was unsure as to how long this meeting would go so a little extra light wouldn’t hurt.

Since she doesn’t have a concrete time of arrival, she decides to busy herself with a bit of prep work and light cleaning for the next school day. She figures that if a parent were to walk in on her likes this, it might add to their overall impression of the school.  

A teacher’s work is never done.

After roughly 40 minutes or so, Rachel is beginning to worry that this parent potentially changed their mind. That is until, a light knock sounds on the outside of her door.

“Come in!” She calls brightly, standing up from behind her desk.

She has no expectations for what her visitor might look like as she honestly hadn’t even considered it since you asked her this favor. However, the man who walks in through her door most certainly is not who she would have ever expected.

Because the man who just walked in, is Jungkook.

Tall, strong, doe-eyed, shaggy haired, WARRIOR Jungkook...

The terror cub himself has now found his way inside her classroom.  

And she is both terribly confused and terribly excited all at once.

“Good evening,” She chokes out, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress, “Forgive me but- you're not the person I’m meant to meet with are you? Did you see any folks outside, looking a bit lost perhaps?”

Jungkook looks terrified but he steps inside nonetheless, one of his hands positioned awkwardly behind his back.

“Uh- Hi, I mean- Good evening mam...” He bows before her, “Um...” He shuffles forward a bit, his eyes scanning the room for a moment, “Heretheseareforyou.” Jungkook rushes out, shoving a bouquet of fresh daisies onto one of the empty desks, his eyes averting Rachel’s very confused expression, “I am the person you’re meant to meet actually...”

Rachel gasps to herself as she spots the daisies, her heart immediately picking up in her chest, “Oh! Oh goodness thank you, that’s very kind of you...” She smiles, her hands seemingly frozen in place at the front of her dress, “I’m- I’m so confused I apologize. Do you have children?”

He shakes his head, his floppy black hair following the motions. He is dressed in a pair of tan linen pants and a rather tight-fitting white peasant blouse, the golden expanse of his chest on full display, his feet tucked into a pair of leather boots. Rachel does her best to ignore how good he looks but, he makes it very difficult.

“No I don’t.” He answers, cringing slightly at the juvenile nature of this situation, “You know Y/N right?”

Rachel giggles, the sound a little higher pitched than usual, “I do yes. We’ve been friends since we were children...”

“Heh yeah, sorry I knew that but uh- so Y/N...” He begins, his hands coming up to assist in his explanation, “She paid me a visit earlier and suggested that...welll- She suggested that I pay you a visit.”

“Oh well- is everything alright? Are you in need of my assistance?” She inquires softly, her face decorated with concern.

Jungkook’s chest is filled with warmth at the sight of her unease, feeling very lucky to be the object of her concern.

“Everything’s ok I just- I wasn’t sure how to go about speaking with you.” He hesitates, feeling a bit of discomfort as he tries to find a way to explain his presence here, “I know you’re a very busy woman and I wasn’t even sure if you’d even want to speak with me which- by the way, if you’re uncomfortable with my presence, please let me know. I don’t want to be a bother...”

Rachel shakes her head instantly, her hands coming up to stop him from continuing that train of thought, “No- no not all! I mean-” She clears her throat, “You aren't a bother at all, I would love to speak with you. Although, forgive me- I'm a little confused as to what you’d like to speak about. Is it the school? Are you interested in meeting with the students?”

Jungkook grins softly and shakes his head, “No mam. I mean- I wouldn’t be opposed to meeting with them but, I am more interested in meeting with you...”

She gulps, her eyes widening a bit as she places a hand to her chest, “Me?”

He bites his lip and Rachel swears she sees a sparkle in his eyes as he steps closer to her.

“Yes mam. I uh-” His throat bobs with his own uncomfortable swallow as he shoves his hand in the pocket of his pants, pulling out a piece of crumbled parchment, “ I have travelled many miles. I have seen the mountains, the ocean and the forest. I have seen the sun in east and the moon in the west. I have seen the royal palace and all the riches it contains. I have seen all a man would need to see in his lifetime and yet, I have never felt complete until my eyes fell upon your face.”  

Comically, Rachel’s mouth has fallen open, her face colored with shock.  

Her heart seemingly freezes in her chest as Jungkook’s nervous gaze leaves the parchment and gazes up towards her.

“I wrote this when I was 17.” He begins sheepishly, “I promised myself that I would read it for the woman who captured my heart...”

Rachel inhales shakily, a slight sting in her eyes as emotion overcomes her.

“But you just read it to me...”

He chuckles warmly, his hand tucking a bit of hair behind his ear, “I did.”

“Am I-?” She begins but Jungkook cuts her off, stepping towards her a bit more.

“I know it’s a bit much isn’t it? I’ve never been very good with subtly and with my departure looming in the background, I couldn’t help but confess to you while I still had time. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and your existence makes me warm. I haven’t felt warmth like this before and I- I guess I just wanted to see if I had a chance at courting you...”

Rachel finally closes her mouth for a moment only to cover it with her hand.  

She’s in complete disbelief that this is happening, but she responds nevertheless as best as she can.

“You- you have more than chance, you have a million chances I- oh wow, I feel a little faint goodness gracious...” She sighs, fanning herself as she leans against her desk, “I don’t understand...”

He rushes over to her then, a look of concern on his face, “Are you alright? Do you need some water or something?”

She shakes her head, letting out a shaky breath at the close proximity between them, immediately noticing the way he smells like amber and rosemary.

It warm, just like he is.

“I’m ok, I just-” She looks up at him, “I honestly cannot believe you feel this way about me. I’m just a schoolteacher, I probably have paste in my hair...and you’re a warrior I- I'm confused.”

Jungkook snickers, tilting his head to the side as he spots the bit of paste still clinging to the end of her hair. With gentle fingers, he reaches out and extracts the bit of dried gunk from her hair, discarding it on the desk, “You are not ‘just’ anything. You are bright and warm. Your duty lies with educating the children and I believe that to be far nobler than what I do. Please don’t sell yourself short, especially not on my account.”

Subconsciously, they seem to lean into one another, Rachel’s nerves dissipating slightly, “So then, you said you wish to court me yes? How- how do you intend we do this?”

He purses his lips, “Well,” He tilts his head to the side, “I would love to have dinner with you. I know that there aren’t many eateries in the village but-”

“I can cook for us!” She chirps happily cause his grin to broaden, “I know a spot we can eat, it’s really beautiful and it’s private for the most part.”

Jungkook is bursting with fondness, nodding eagerly at her suggestion before turning around to grab the flowers, “That sounds wonderful. Are you available tomorrow, same time?”

“Yes! I mean-” She clears her throat as the volume of her voice escapes her, “Yes, yes I’m free. I can meet you at the plaza?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll meet you anywhere you’d like...” He nods and haphazardly pushes the flowers in her direction, “Here, I picked these for you. I’ll pick more tomorrow as well- do you have a favorite? I hope daisies were alright...I’m not familiar with the flora around here.”

She smiles brightly, accepting the flowers graciously, securing them to your chest, “These are perfect! I love wildflowers, really anything that grows along the east part of the river...” She muses thoughtfully, “Daisies are some of my favorites as well. I’m sure Y/N told you that though...” She giggles but Jungkook shakes his head.

“She didn’t actually. I suppose it was just a lucky guess.” He smiles before stepping back slightly, fiddling with his hands now that they are empty, “So tomorrow then?”

With another rapid nod she responds, “Yes, tomorrow.”

“Great! Well uh-” He hesitates, glancing longingly towards her lips before extending his hand, “May I?”

With a harsh swallow and a shaky hand, she obliges, sticking her hand out towards his.

As if she were made of glass, Jungkook carefully raises her hand to his lips before placing a chaste kiss over the ridges of her knuckles, “Until tomorrow...”

“Until tomorrow.” She squeaks, covering her mouth once more.

He bows his head, offering another devastating grin before leaving the classroom.

With a hefty sigh, Rachel stares at the door in disbelief.

“It seems as though my dear friend isn’t an apothecary but a criminal mastermind...” She muses to herself, her cheeks on fire as she giggles to herself, “Huh, you think you know people.”

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

You decided shortly after your meeting with Rachel that you would in fact be going to the river because, regardless of your uncertainty: you still wanted to see Yoongi.  

“Something is troubling you...” He notes the moment he steps out from behind the trees, dressed down in a pair of black pants and a longer gray linen robe to ward of the slight chill in the air.

“What makes you say that?” You challenge with a grin, your heart fluttering as soon as you see him, “I’m just hoping my plan is playing out as I’d hoped...”

“Ah-” He lifts a finger, “I recall you saying that your plans play out relatively well. Also, you and I both know that my brother and your friend are smitten over one another so- I find it hard to believe your thinking so hard about a clear victory.”

You bite your lip, unsure of what to say next as Yoongi has so clearly seen right through you.  

“We don’t get much time together; it would be a waste to spend it discussing the internal monologue going on inside my head.” You joke, stepping towards him.

He clicks his tongue, “Now see- that is where you’re wrong. It was your internal monologue and your resulting opinions that drew me to visit you in the first place. The other talents your lips have are merely a bonus.” He smirks but his eyes hold some degree of concern, “I want to know what’s on your mind Y/N...no matter how insignificant you may find it.”

Yoongi’s sincerity draws you out of your shell, your heart picking up slightly at the thought of discussing your feelings.

“It’s silly...” You warn him causing him to chuckle.

“Good, I could use a bit of silliness after today.” He promises with a grin but his laughter dissipates as he notices even the slightest bit of distress on your face, “Your thoughts aren’t silly Y/N, at least not to me. I’d really like to hear what you’re thinking.”

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you take a deep breath and muster up the courage to be honest with him, “What are your intentions with me?”

He tilts his head, stepping closer to you after your question, face decorated with curiosity, “Which intentions are you referring to?”

You feel yourself growing nervous under his gaze but, you stay strong anyway and push through, “All of them- I suppose. It’s just that, I’m having difficulty...I’m-”

The hesitation in your features concerns Yoongi and he can’t help but quell the distance between you, taking your hands gently in his own.

“My girl- what's troubling you like this? Have I upset you?”

He’s tilting his head, trying to find your gaze as you look down at where your hands are connected.

His question causes you to look up at him, lips parted as you shake your head.

“No, no of course not.” You assure him, entwining your fingers with his, “I just- oh I promise you it’s going to sound silly...”

Yoongi chuckles incredulously, gently shaking your hands in his grip, “Y/N, darling please tell me what’s on your mind. I promise you I won’t find think it’s silly.”

Your heart sings at the pet name he gives you, taking a momentary break from it’s uneven rhythm, “I’ve just been wondering why you haven’t...well, why we haven’t- why we haven’t been intimate.”

Yoongi’s chest tightens with realization, his grip on your hands tightening ever so slightly before taking a deep breath, “There is nothing silly about that at all.” He assures you with a gentle smile, his eyes shifting from your hands to your face and back again whilst he tries to come up with a response, “It’s a perfectly normal thing to be curious about, especially considering how often we kiss. To be quite honest, my reasoning is probably what will end up sounding silly to you...”

“I don’t think it will, I just want to understand where your head is at because,” You sigh, looking into his eyes, “sometimes I feel alone in how much I desire you and I thought maybe if I got an idea where your head is at, I could understand why you always stop things before they go too far.”

At this, Yoongi raises his brows, “You think you’re alone in the desire to take me to bed?” He confirms, his voice deepening, a ghost of a smirk on his lips, “And here I thought you were clever...”

With a pout to your lips, you playfully tug your hands out of his grip causing him to chuckle before capturing them once again, “I am clever! Clever people get confused all the time, besides you just said this was a perfectly normal thing to be curious about.”

He laughs still and nods, guiding your hands up to his shoulders, “Yes I did. However, I was referring to you wondering why we haven’t gone to bed together yet, not you wondering whether or not I wanted to take you to bed. That IS silly...”

“It’s not though...” You insist, a shiver running down your spine as he slides his freed hands around your waist, “You always seem so composed. We’ll have been kissing for what feels like forever and then- you stop us. Which is ok of course but, I just don’t fully understand why.”

He hums thoughtfully with a smirk still on his lips as he pulls you closer to him, “My composure is an illusion Y/N. My job requires me to have complete control all of the time, especially in the face of an enemy...”

Scoffing, your pout deepens at the end of his sentence, “Oh so I'm your enemy now? Gee Yoongi, I’m so glad I decided to share this with you- I feel much better now.”

Yoongi laughs heartily at your sarcasm before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You are an enemy to my composure darling- you are just refusing to realize that.”

His kiss causes your heart to sing with satisfaction, despite the fact that you are trying very hard to focus on pouting.

“Even if that were true...I still feel silly for how much I desire you.”

He quells the playfulness between the two of you then, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek, “You are not silly, and you are not alone. My entire world has shifted because of you. I think you’d be shocked if you knew how much you occupied my thoughts.” He assures you, placing another kiss on your forehead, “However, that isn’t the answer to your question is it? You’re wondering why we haven’t gone to bed together despite how much we desire each other.”  

“Yes.” You murmur, leaning against his hand, “If you have any insight on this general, please provide a briefing...”

He smirks fondly, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “You really have no idea how much I want you. I don’t think I could possibly explain it. Because of that, I want to wait until I can give you everything I have. Right now I- I simply can’t.” He admits, a bit of sadness now in his tone, “I want to wait until I have a proper villa, until I don’t have to worry about leaving at dawn to continue training, until I can stay underneath the sheets with you, until I can spend hours pleasing you- without the threat of war in the back of my mind. You deserve a man with no distractions, right now- I'm just not that man yet.”

His explanation makes perfect sense and you feel a bit of guilt for ever wondering how he felt about you in the first place but before you’re able to comment on his words, he speaks again.

“But please- please don’t think that means I don’t desire you.” He whispers, smiling softly whilst he places yet another kiss to your forehead. Letting his lips linger there, he sighs hopelessly, “One day, when I am finally free of my duties- I will spend days memorizing your skin with my lips...” He begins kissing his way down the bridge of your nose, puckering his lips gently as he does. He bypasses your lips however and uses his hand to tilt your head to the side, give him access to your neck, “I will memorize every bump,” He kisses your skin, “every curve,” Kiss “every line,” Kiss “every scar,” Kiss “every spot that gives you pleasure.” He inhales softly through his nose when he hears you gasp, your hands tightening on his shoulders, “Will you wait for me darling? Will you wait until I can give you my soul? My heart is already yours, I just need a little bit longer....”

You’re already nodding, certain with your response despite how much his presence is currently affecting you, “I’d wait for you forever, General Min.”

You can feel him grin against your neck, “I only need six months...” He chuckles, his laughter increasing as you playfully smack his back. “Then I’m yours forever.”

At his amendment, you smile and kiss the side of his head, “Forever sounds nice.”

Yoongi sighs, sliding his hands across your back to pull you into his embrace, “Forever it is then.”  

[sohotthateveryonedied]

No Matter What

Read here on AO3!!

Summary: 

Bruce figures out that his son isn't straight from an early age.

That doesn't make him love him any less.

- Eight Years Old -

Bruce is finally starting to get a hang of this parenting thing.

The first few months were rough, there’s no disputing that. Bruce lost track of how many times he panicked and called Leslie Thompkins whenever Dick burst into tears over something and Alfred wasn’t home. Not to mention all the times when Alfred would leave Bruce on his own for dinner, insisting that one must learn how to raise a child without a butler to help. Bruce fed the kid burnt chicken nuggets and garlic bread for two nights straight. Now, though? Bruce is immensely proud of how far he and Dick have come. He’s even taken to attending PTA meetings, if only for the free coffee and doughnuts. He hears the front door open right on time, then wet boots hitting the floor. Dick had a half day today to make room for meet-the-teacher night later. Bruce isn’t looking forward to spending two hours sitting in a chair made for eight-year-olds, listening to a teacher in plastic pearls talk about an elementary schooler’s oh-so challenging curriculum. At least he’s only got the one; he has no intention of having more kids after Dick. Bruce busies himself with his mostly unburnt slice of toast, one ear trained on the footsteps through the foyer accompanied by unceasing chatter that Bruce has grown quite fond of over the months. “—and then they let us outside for recess even though it was raining, and I went on the swings and my hair got all wet and it was so cool.” “That explains the muddy clothes,” Alfred says. “Sorry, Alf. I’m not immune to mud puddles.” “It would appear so, Master Dick.”

The two of them enter the kitchen, Dick working his elbows out of his yellow rain slicker to reveal the school uniform beneath. His cheeks are rosy, his eyes bright. “Hiya, Bruce!”

“Hey, champ. How was school?” “It was awesome. It was raining all day and at recess there were a ton of puddles all over the playground and a million worms. I didn’t touch them though, ‘cause the teacher said not to.” “What snack would you like, Master Dick?” Alfred asks, taking Dick’s discarded raincoat and folding it over his arm. “Can you do ants on a log?” “Coming right up, sir.” Dick heaves himself up on the bar stool beside Bruce, his sock feet kicking against the lower cupboard. Bruce spreads marmalade over his toast. “Tell me more about school. Any fights today?” “Nope,” Dick says proudly, flashing his gapped teeth. Dick and another boy got into a scuffle on the first day over a comment about whether Dick’s parents being from the circus meant they were part monkey. It’s a miracle Dick only gave the kid a nosebleed and didn’t break anything. The principal let Dick off with a warning since it was his first time at a normal school, but Bruce has a feeling the only reason he wasn’t expelled was because his guardian is the most powerful man in Gotham City. Bruce had a stern talk with Dick when they got home about the importance of controlling one’s actions. Traveling the world in a circus train car doesn’t do much to help one’s impulse control. He also banned Dick from watching television for the rest of the night, but Dick’s crocodile tears swayed him to balance it out by letting him have ice cream before dinner. That’s good parenting, right? “I even made a friend,” Dick says. “Oh? What are they like?” “His name is Caleb and his desk is right next to mine, so we talked during reading time. Then he gave me some of his chocolate during lunch and we played on the swings together at recess.” “Ah, the wonders of childhood friendship,” Alfred says from where he’s slicing up a celery stalk at the other end of the counter. He sounds relieved, and Bruce finds himself matching it. Dick has been at Gotham Elementary for almost a week and hasn’t made a single friend until now. Bruce can’t tell if that is more because of Dick’s circus background or because he is a tan-skinned boy with the barest of Romani accents attending a predominantly white private school. Sometimes (all the time) Bruce loathes being associated with Gotham’s high society. If you’re not white, straight, and rich, you are automatically shunned in their minds. “He sounds great, Dick.” “Yeah! And he’s got really pretty eyes too. I can’t tell if they’re brown or green, but they’re sparkly like glitter.” Bruce arches an eyebrow. “You must like him a lot.” He takes a bite of his toast, making eye contact with Alfred over the boy’s head. Alfred doesn’t react but for a twitch of his mustache. Dick nods, focus switched over to the plate Alfred slides in front of him. Dick takes a celery stick and picks off the first raisin coated in peanut butter, licking it off his thumb. “I hope he talks to me again tomorrow. Alfred, can I bring an extra snack to lunch tomorrow so I can share it with him?” Alfred smiles. “Of course. I will pack a second cupcake in your lunchbox tomorrow morning just for him.” “Thanks, Alf.” Dick goes right back to eating his ants on a log, cheerful as ever, completely unaware of the swarm of question marks buzzing around in Bruce’s head. Huh. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Eleven Years Old - Bruce gets home from a three-hour business meeting, his sandpapery eyes aching to close and stay shut for...let’s go with ten years? That should be enough. He loosens his tie and prepares to go upstairs to his bedroom where he’ll spend the next decade of his life hibernating, until he sees his ward on the living room sofa. Dick is lying on his stomach with his face buried in a throw pillow, as if he’s waiting for the sofa to swallow him whole. Must have been a bad day if he’s not sliding down banisters and flipping over chairs like usual. Sighing, Bruce goes over. “Dick? You alive over there?” “Mmph.” At least he’s conscious. Bruce sits on the arm of the couch, shaking Dick’s thin shoulder. “Come on, kiddo. Use your words.” “Mmph.” “Bad day, then?” Dick nods. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Dick shakes his head. Bruce sits back with a frown. “Alfred?” he calls. Alfred pokes his head in. “Yes, Master Bruce?” Bruce gestures to their anguished preteen. “It would seem that our lad had a rough day at school. He wouldn’t tell me what, but I’m making his favorite casserole for dinner. Hopefully that will perk him up.” Bruce turns back to Dick, who hasn’t moved. “C’mon, Dickie. Sit up so I can see your face.” Reluctantly, Dick forces himself upright with one last groan into his pillow. His hair is mussed, standing up on one side. There’s a pillow crease on his cheek. He sits back against the sofa, miserable. “Better.” Bruce prods Dick’s ribs which earns him a giggle, goading the kid into sliding over a few inches so Bruce can sit beside him. Dick leans into his side immediately and Bruce puts his arm around him. “Now, tell me what’s got you down.” “I want to transfer schools.” “How come?” As far as he’s known until now, Dick has loved middle school. His childhood took a bad turn when his parents’ ropes snapped, but preteen life is at a good start. Until now. Dick’s gaze is trained on his sneakers, kicking them where they hang over the edge of the couch. “Some kids in my science class were talking crap about me.” “Don’t say crap.” “Can I go to a new school? Please?” “What did those kids say about you?” Dick picks at a dime-size hole in his jeans. “They called me gay,” he says quietly. Bruce tightens his arm around the boy, his heart panging. Of course someone had to bully Bruce’s kid. As if his life hasn’t already been hard enough without stupid teenagers making it worse. “I wasn’t even doing anything wrong. I was just talking to my lab partner, and the guys at the next table over started whispering about us. Then they started throwing papers.” “Did you tell the teacher?” “No. But I know she noticed. Everyone did. She just didn’t do anything about it.” That sets Bruce’s blood to a boil. Teachers have a responsibility to protect their students, no matter what. What gives her the right to turn a blind eye to bullying, just because a couple of students might not fit the agreed-upon standards of “perfect” upper class society? “I’ll set up an appointment with the principal,” Bruce decides. Dick’s eyes get wide. “Bruce, no. Please. It’s fine, really. I don’t want this to turn into a big deal.” “What did you do when it happened?” Dick shrugs. “Nothing. My lab partner stopped talking to me, so I just asked to go to the bathroom and didn’t come back until the bell rang.” Bruce sighs. Middle schoolers are the worst, every last one of them. (Except for Dick, of course; he is perfect.) “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Kids can be cruel—especially at your age, when they start learning new words that they don’t understand the way they should. They think some words are insults or something to be ashamed of when they’re not. Most kids grow out of this. Too many don’t.” “People suck,” Dick mutters. “I don’t even know why they were saying all that stuff. I’m not...I’m not like that” Bruce bites his cheek. He’s going to have to be careful about this. “Dick, do you know what being gay means?” “Duh. It’s when two guys date each other. I’m not stupid.” “I know you’re not stupid. But gay can mean a lot of things. Men can like other men, just as women can love other women. Like Kate, for instance. Then there are bisexual and pansexual people who love all genders, and asexuals who don’t like either.” Thank god Bruce thought ahead and read some LGBTQ+ research books all those years ago when he first began to suspect that Dick wasn’t heterosexual. “And transgender is when someone doesn’t identify with the gender they were assigned at birth. Sometimes people feel more like a man, a woman, neither, or both.” “...Okay?” “I just want to make sure you understand these things, because part of being a respectful person means respecting others for who they are. And if you don’t completely understand the label they identify as, then it’s your job to try and understand it the best you can.” “Why?” “Because too many people in this world judge others for things they can’t control, and that’s not right. No one should have to feel like they were born wrong. And I want to make sure you know this, that way you can be better than those who choose to hurt others for things they can’t control.” “Does that mean the guys who made fun of me are bad people?” “I’m sure they aren’t. They might just be confused because they don’t understand that being gay isn’t anything bad or dirty. The people in this part of Gotham...they don’t accept a lot of things. They think that being queer or a person of color means you don’t deserve respect, and that’s wrong. It was wrong of those kids to tease you and your lab partner the way they did.” Dick nods slowly. “I’m not gay.” “I know. I just want you to be aware of these things. And if you ever have questions or need to talk, you can always come to me.” He ruffles Dick’s hair. “Even when other people are nasty, remember that I love you no matter what, got it?” Dick shoves Bruce’s hand away and smoothes his hair back out, grinning. “Yeah, yeah. I got it.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Thirteen Years Old -

What’s the difference between a growth spurt and a shark? 

Dick doesn’t have any sharks. “We’re home!” Dick announces. He and Alfred stumble into the house, their arms filled with all kinds of shopping bags. With Dick shooting up half an inch nightly these days, he’s growing out of his clothes at a rate even Bane would gawk at. Bruce and Alfred can barely keep up with the kid. “Want to see what I got?” “Show me, pal.” Bruce sets aside his tablet and pushes his reading glasses up on his head. (He does not have poor vision, thank you very much. Leslie just made him get a prescription as a precaution, that’s all. He’s still young by anyone’s standards, just ask Selina.) Dick starts pulling clothing out of the boutique bags, showing off every one of his new sweaters and pairs of Alfred-approved jeans. After ten minutes that Bruce desperately tries to look interested during, Dick pulls out what looks like a t-shirt that’s been sliced in half horizontally. The fabric is bright pink with a chibi whale on the front. “This one is my favorite,” Dicks says. His grin is blinding. Bruce stares for a long moment, his brain a lagging computer drive. “What is it?” “It’s a crop top. You know, like a belly shirt?” Memories from Dick’s Kim Possible phase flash in front of Bruce’s eyes. “Alfred let you buy that?” “Yeah?” Dick’s smile flags. He lowers the crop top, suddenly self-conscious. “Do you not...like it?” “You were supposed to get winter clothes, Dick. For cold weather.” “So?” “That’s clearly something you’re supposed to wear during the summer.” Dick pouts. “But I like it.” He holds it up against himself, twisting this way and that like an amateur model. “Sorry, kiddo. You’re not leaving the house in that until springtime.” “Oh, so Robin can wear tiny shorts in the winter, but Dick Grayson can’t wear a harmless crop top? I smell hypocrisy.” “Yes, because Robin has thermal leggings and a built-in heater in his uniform.” He looks back at the pink monstrosity, at Dick’s pleading eyes. “I would be open to negotiations if you’re willing to wear a sweater under it.” “That’s not how fashion works, B.” “I don’t care. You can wait until it gets warmer out to wear it.” “You’re such a drag,” Dick whines. He lifts his dozens of shopping bags and goes to leave, then turns right back around. “What if I wear a jacket over it and promise to keep it closed whenever I’m outside?” Bruce considers that. “Fine. But not below fifteen degrees, got it? And if I see you outside for even five seconds without the jacket, I’m confiscating the Xbox. Deal?” “Deal.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Fourteen Years Old -

Something is different about Dick today. You’d think his boots were made of helium with the way he floats through patrol, and then smiles into his late-night milkshake like it did his homework for him. Bruce sits beside his Robin on the roof of Wayne Tower, silent for as long as he can bear before he can’t hold it back any longer. “Did anything interesting happen today?” “Huh?” Dick looks up as if Bruce pried him and his thoughts apart with a crowbar. “You’ve been...different. Happy.” “Am I not usually happy?” “No, you are. Just seems like you’re...extra happy, for whatever reason.” A blush dusts the kid’s cheeks. He sips his chocolate shake and shrugs. “Dunno. It was just a good day. Nothing special.” Yeah, and Bruce is a goddamn unicorn. Still, he knows better than to pry where Dick doesn’t want him. It’s a delicate thing. “If you say so.” “I got a hundred on my English essay,” Dick offers. It’s a start. “Was that the one on Grapes of Wrath?” “That was last month. We’re on Animal Farm now. It’s not my favorite.” “Yeah, I wasn’t a fan of Orwell either. Shakespeare was okay, but I preferred his tragedies over his comedies.” “Of course you did.” That makes Bruce laugh. He’s not worried; the two of them are high enough that no one can hear it. Bruce even has his cowl down, his face exposed to the cool air. “They had quinoa burgers at the cafeteria today.” “Mm-hm.” Dick is dodging something, beating around whatever bush he wants to talk about. Bruce can be patient while he figures it out. “And I spent some time with Barbara after school.” “Oh?” “Yeah. We walked home together and we took this old path through the park. Then we kissed.” Bruce chokes on his milkshake. He coughs, his sinuses burning and eyes watering. When he recovers, he says, “That’s...that’s great, chum.” “Yeah.” Dick can’t stop smiling, a true schoolboy in love. “And she asked if I wanted to patrol with her tomorrow night, but I said I needed to check in with you first.” “I don’t see why not.” It’s not like Bruce hasn’t patrolled without Dick before. Sure, he misses the company on the few days a week he’s alone, but he’s not about to deny Dick the thing he clearly wants. “You sure? You look...freaked out.” “No, no. That’s...great, that you kissed. Congratulations.” Awkward. He’s so fucking awkward. Stop being awkward right now. He doesn’t know why this is messing with his head so drastically. Bruce has listened to Dick moon over girls for the entirety of his pubescence, talking about them like they’re goddesses he’s forbidden to look upon, Barbara included. And Bruce has seen the way Dick and Barbara interact with each other in between muggings, always talking with their heads bent close like they’re the only two people in the world. Who would have thought Batman could be a third wheel? “I’ve liked her for a while now, but I didn’t know if she liked me back and I was too nervous to ask.” Dick’s face goes even pinker. “Kissing her was cool.” Part of Bruce’s brain jumps at the realization that, holy shit, Dick just had his first kiss, my little boy is growing up, what a milestone. The other part is far less happy about this new development. Yes, Bruce has seen Dick win brawls with men three times his size. He can fly the Bat-jet on his own, knows six languages, and is even leading his own superhero team. And yet, all Bruce can think is, no, not my little boy, he’s just a baby, Batgirl is corrupting his innocence and She Must Be Stopped. With great effort, Bruce holds it all back. He’s read the parenting books, he knows that it’s important to be supportive when they’re at this age. “Good to hear. I’m happy for you.” He pats Dick on the shoulder. “Thanks, B.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Sixteen Years Old - “Hey, Bruce? Can I talk to you?” Bruce doesn’t look up from the metal flakes he’s testing. “What is it?” “I can come back later if you’re busy.” “No, I’m just analyzing some samples. I’m looking for residue from one of Zsasz’s blades.” Dick steps forward, tentative for once. “Need any help?” “I would like for you to come out with whatever it is you clearly need to tell me.” Dick snorts quietly. “Nice phrasing.” “What?” “I think I’m bisexual.” Bruce turns around, forgetting about the samples entirely. Dick’s arms are crossed over his chest, his eyes skipping between everything that isn’t Bruce’s face. At sixteen years old he’s finally tall enough that he doesn’t have to crane his neck to look at Bruce anymore. “You...think?” “I am. I’m bisexual.” “Okay.” “Is that cool with you?” The question shocks Bruce. “Of course it is.” Did Dick honestly think this would change anything? Has Bruce done something wrong, made Dick think that he wasn’t loved unconditionally? Dick squints, appraises Bruce’s reaction. “You knew, didn’t you.” “No.” “Bruce.” “I knew a little bit.” Dick rolls his eyes. The tension slips from his shoulders. His arms uncross. “Of course you did.” “Well, you weren’t exactly subtle about it.” “What the hell does that mean?” “Language,” Bruce chides, more out of habit than anything. “And do you realize how often you would come home after elementary school complaining about stupid pretty boys?” “That was just me being dramatic.” “I’m not disputing that. But they were still crushes, pal.” “I figured you thought it was just a phase.” Bruce shrugs. “Maybe for the first few days. But trust me, I have known you liked boys since you were a kid.” “Then why didn’t you just say so? It took me years to figure this all out, and you’re telling me you’ve been sitting on this info the whole time?” “Because this is your truth, not mine. I knew that you would tell me about it when you were ready. And you have.” Dick is clearly fighting a smile. He bites his lip instead, runs a hand through his mop of black hair that not even Alfred can wheedle him into combing anymore. “Well, I’m heading to the tower for the night, so don’t wait up, ‘kay? Kay. Good talk.” He goes to leave, but Bruce stops him. “Hang on. Why choose now to tell me?” Dick stuffs his hands in his pockets—an obvious tell. “No reason. I just...wanted you to know. Just in case.” “In case of what?” “Oh, you know.” Dick waves his hand in a gesture that clarifies absolutely nothing. “Life happens. People meet each other. You know how it is.” Bruce’s soul implodes. “You have a date?” “I never said that.” “You implied it.” “Real detectives rely on evidence, not theories.” Dick winks. “Tell me who it is. Are they a civilian? A hero? Do they come from a respectable family?” If it’s Roy Harper, Bruce might have to bury a body tonight. Especially after learning about Harper’s drug problem. Dick is too pure for someone like that. Or—heaven forbid—that Wally West kid. Dick is already walking away. “See ya, Bruce!” “You come back here, Richard John Grayson! Do I know him? Does he know your father is Batman?” Dick’s cackle echoes around the cave. “It had better not be a speedster!”

[hummingbird-of-light]

Desideria Praeterita

Part 67

Scotty

They spent the rest of the evening chattering about their day and how wonderful it had been. Scotty was so happy that Leonard had finally tried some of his haggis. He hadn’t expected him to do so after all.

But that was just Leonard. Brave, curious Leonard McCoy.

Two hours flew by just like that and eventually Scotty and Leonard got upstairs and lay down in the shared bed.

“I hope ye enjoyed the day mo gràdh,” Scott mumbled as he snuggled closer to his boyfriend who wrapped an arm around him.

“I did. It was fun.”

Leonard pressed a kiss onto his head and they fell silent for a moment.

Scotty closed his eyes, revisiting the places they had seen today in his mind. The garden, the old castles, the restaurant. How could he have ever left them behind?

Then again… if he hadn’t left with Khan, he wouldn’t have met Leonard. And deep inside he knew that without the Southern doctor at his side, something would have been missing in his life.

“Can I… ask you something leannan?”

Scotty opened his eyes at Leonard’s question and then nodded against the man’s chest.

“Of course, what is it?”

“Why didn’t you take the armchair down in the living room?”

Scotty’s face darkened for a second and he felt tears swelling in his eyes, a lump forming inside his throat. He cleared it quickly.

“It… it belonged to my granddad,” he admitted and Leonard seemed to sigh for a moment.

“You two were quite close, weren’t you?”

Once again, Scotty nodded. His father had died when he was eight or nine years old. But his grandfather had taken care of Robbie and him. He had been like a father figure.

“After my dad died… he was everything to us. He taught us how to repair stuff, taught me everything I know today about engineering.”

The Scotsman stopped for a moment, remembering the backpipe that broke when he was a wee lad. He had always promised his granddad to repair it. But he had failed horribly. And soon enough, when he started to study, it had been forgotten. Was it still lying in the basement, waiting to be repaired?

“I loved him very much. And… I can’nae believe that I wasn’t there when he died.”

Eventually the tears started to flow and he felt Leonard holding him tighter.

“I’m so sorry…,” Scotty sobbed violently.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s alright, Scotty.”

Part 68

McCoy

McCoy held Scotty close as he cried. He somewhat regretted asking the question, but knew his boyfriend needed to let the grief out. The cries slowed eventually and he heard the change when Scotty’s breathing evened out in his sleep. McCoy pressed another kiss to Scotty’s temple and closed his own eyes.

He woke first for once and looked at Scotty holding onto him. McCoy smiled at the peaceful look on the engineer’s sleeping face. He may have cried himself to sleep, but at least he had slept through the night again.

McCoy heard a muffled noise from downstairs. He knew Robbie got up early for work, but he wondered if Mrs. Scott also got up early. Carefully, he slipped out of Scotty’s grip and stood up. He looked down to make sure Scotty was still sleeping. He held in a laugh as Scotty pulled one of the pillows closer and held it.

He pulled on some clothes and quietly made his way out of the room and downstairs. McCoy found Mrs. Scott in the kitchen.

“Oh! Good morning Leonard,” she greeted him. “The kettle’s still warm if ye’d like some tea.”

“Morning. Thank you m— thanks,” he said, fighting against his instinct to call her ‘ma’am’ again. He didn’t want to admit Jim was right about his manners.

“Monty still sleeping?” she asked as he made himself a cup and joined her at the table.

“Yes.” He chuckled. “Normally I’m the late sleeper.”

“That’s good to hear. He was such a lazybones as a boy.”

McCoy grinned behind his mug. He wondered what other stories he might get to hear about his boyfriend in his youth.

“He’s usually up first, making breakfast,” McCoy said. “I try to get him to sleep in, but nope. I’m not gonna complain if I get a hot meal before work.” McCoy smiled. “Chris thinks, oh, my Chris, Christine at work,” he clarified, “thinks he’s fattening me up.”

Mrs. Scott laughed, then looked him up and down.

“I don’t see anything to worry about Leonard.”

“That’s what I told her,” he grinned. “She’s just jealous Scotty and I found each other.”

Mrs. Scott looked at him for a moment as if trying to make up her mind about something.

“How did you two meet? Chris didn’t seem to know much, and ye two haven’t said.”

McCoy’s smile faded away and he sighed quietly.

“I’m very grateful you did meet my lad and that other is gone,” she scowled as she passed over Khan.

McCoy swallowed. He had known it would all have to be talked about. Maybe it would be easier if he started it. Scotty could finish it later and McCoy would be right there to help him. They could get it over with and move on with the rest of their visit.

“We met at my hospital. He got injured at work and I was the doctor on call in the ER.”

He glanced at Mrs. Scott who was watching him closely. She nodded for him to continue.

“I… I knew the second I saw him. The first time he smiled at me set my heart racing.” He smiled at the memory. “But he was still with Khan. A lot of this is Scotty’s story to tell. We ran into each other a few more times before everything fell out with Khan.”

“Chris said something about a car chase and that man shot someone.”

“Yes ma’am.” His hand traveled over the wound on its own. “That someone was me.”

Mrs. Scott gasped and her hand flew up to her mouth.

“Leonard!”

[ijustwant2write]

Grow Up Fast-Fred Weasley x Reader (Part 2)

(GIF credit to @everygif​)

Part 1

Masterlist

Prompt List

‘OMG! I loved Grow Up Fast-Fred Weasley x Reader! I’ll love to see a part two where they go get the baby back! Hopefully if you have time, it was so cute‘

‘Grow Up Fast was so cute and amazing!! Part 2???‘

‘loved you’re recent Fred piece on the baby! just wondering if you could do another one along those lines but the reader is pregnant with twins and the whole family is finding it special obviously because Fred’s a twin, just something along those lines 💖‘

Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, George Weasley x Reader (brother-in-law), Weasley family x Reader (in-laws)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Adoption, pregnancy symptoms/pregnancy talk (throwing up/check ups/scans/trimesters), lots and lots and lots of fluff

                                       *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Are we really doing this?” I excitedly breathed out, squeezing Fred’s hand.

He slightly nodded, looking apprehensive himself.“We really are.”

We were stood inside the orphanage, and this wasn’t our first time here. Ever since the baby had left our short care, something had felt off in our lives. In the beginning, we blamed it on the shock of it all; it’s not everyday that you find an abandoned baby behind your shop. Even George pointed this out, saying that our minds seemed to be elsewhere. So here we stood, waiting for the care worker to come back down the hall, but this time she wouldn’t be by herself.

I held back an excited giggle when she turned around the corner with the baby in a carrier. He was awake, kicking his legs about under his blanket, gurgling away as if he knew he was going to his forever home. I tried not to start crying, even though my emotions were all over the place, but it seemed that Fred was happy to let the tears fall. Smiling up at him, I quickly made him face me, giggling as I wiped away his tears. We didn’t exchange any words, but he nodded his at me as if I had asked if he was alright.

“Here he is, little Tommy.” the woman beamed, handing him over to us.

Fred held the carrier in both arms, and we cooed at Tommy. We had helped pick out a name for him when they couldn’t find any recent hospital records, they had no idea where he came from or who his mother was. And just like that, we were taking him home with us.

Once home, we found ourselves lying on the bed, with Tommy in the middle (just like we had the first time we brought him home), and just staring. We had fed him before, meaning he was now sleepy, slowly dozing off.

“What do we do know?” Fred whispered.

“I don’t know.” I honestly answered.“It feels so strange to have him home again, even after seeing him in the care home for so many months.”

“I wish we were there to see him properly grow, he’s so much bigger now.”

“Well he’s here now. And it’s almost his first birthday, we should start planning.”

Fred chuckled, eyes widening when Tommy stirred. Tommy opened his eyes, face scrunching up to cry when I pulled him closer, holding onto him. He calmed down, a few whimpers escaping him before he nodded off again. I glanced at Fred, who was already looking at me, sharing a smile. This was our life now.

A few more months passed, filled with getting used to being parents; the late nights, early mornings, dealing with the ear piercing cries and smelly nappies, but also the bursts of giggles, funny noises and cuddles. So many of our friends and family had come forward to help, giving advice and wanting to get to know the new member of the family. Molly had been extremely enthusiastic after finding out we planned to adopt Tommy. She had worried that there had been problems with us, that we weren’t able to have babies of our own, though even after reassurance, she was still excited. And she offered to babysit way too much (though sometimes that was used to our advantage). 

Now it was the day of Tommy’s first birthday. Since there were no hospital records to show his birth date, they had to give it their best guess. Nevertheless, Tommy was going to have a proper birthday. We had decorated the home, our presents were stacked next to the fireplace, the cake was displayed alongside the rest of the food, and I had picked out his outfit for the day, now all that was left to do was wait for the guests. 

“Wow, look at my handsome boys!” I exclaimed when I entered the living room, seeing Fred holding up Tommy to look at himself in the mirror. 

Fred gasped, turning around so that they were looking at me.“Tommy, look at mummy! Good thing she put in an effort too.”

I scoffed a laugh.“Is everything ready?”

“Yep. Guests should be arriving any minute.”

“Today is all about you Tommy.” I tickled his stomach, laughing with him as he squealed.

The party went amazingly. My family and Fred’s turned up at the same time, all loudly entering our home, gifts in hands, talking over one another. It was hard to take it all in, trying to answer all their questions as they passed me their coats and took off their shoes. Although all their excitement got the best of them, instantly going to greet Tommy and Fred, I didn’t mind, relishing the sight of our entire family together; it was the simple things in life that you could miss, and this was one of them. The day was filled with laughs, too much food and bad singing. There were also nudges towards Ron and Hermione, as well as Harry and Ginny about children, and poor George was being told to keep his search going for the right girl. Both grandmother’s wanted time with Tommy, but I knew he was going to become annoyed being passed around too much. Everyone was content watching him sit up by himself, cushions surrounding him in case he fell, playing with his toys.

Sitting back with Hermione, I found it hard to concentrate on her words. I suddenly felt tired, and also didn’t want to even think about the lunch I had served up. Trying to keep up with the conversation, I sipped at my water, feeling ill. Perhaps I was over tired from the late nights with Harry, we hadn’t had a gathering like this in a while, it was a lot to keep up with, especially when you were one of the hosts. I excused myself, quickly walking to the bathroom. Just as I was about to splash some water on my face, a horrible feeling rose in my throat, and I found myself bent over the toilet being sick. No, surely not, I couldn’t be could I?

Luckily I wasn’t throwing up for long, taking a moment to catch my breath, causing me to cough. Slowly standing, not feeling dizzy now, and quickly brushing my teeth as I flushed the toilet. Checking my reflection, I sighed when I saw how pale I had become. People would definitely notice, if not, then Fred certainly would. I had to act normal, be as bright and bubbly as I was ten minutes ago.

Upon my return, there was music playing, Ginny and Hermione swaying with Tommy on the floor whilst our parents conversed, and the lads talked about something unrelated to babies, families or weddings. Passing by them, I smiled, needing a glass of water. I realised Fred had followed me into the kitchen, sighing as I realised I would have to tell him.

“(Y/N), you don’t look well, are you OK?” Fred asked closely, his hands rubbing my arms up and down as he stood behind me. 

I nodded after taking a sip of water.“Yeah. I’m fine now.”

“What does that mean?”

I turned around to face him, leaning back against the counter.“I um...I was just sick in the toilet.”

“Should we take you to a doctor? Do you need healing? What are your symptoms?” he rushed.

“No, I’m fine really. Perhaps I ate something bad....or....”

“Or what?”

“Fred, your mum babysat for us a couple of weeks ago.”

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“We were alone, all day and all night...can you connect the dots?”

It took him a few more seconds before it clicked, and as his eyes widened, I had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop him from yelling.

“Yes, Fred, I might be pregnant.” I whispered.

“Uh, am I interrupting something here?” Ron said from the doorway, confused when he saw the position we were in.

“Uh, y-yes! Fred was about to yell about the cake, but...but we didn’t want Harry to hear and get too excited.”

Ron furrowed his eyebrows at us as he slowly stepped back.“OK. I mean, he’s only one, I’m sure he wouldn’t have realised.”

Removing my hand from Fred’s mouth, I let out a sigh of relief.“Look, we don’t know if that’s true yet, so for now, don’t even think about it.”

“But, if you are...” Fred trailed off, smiling to himself.

“Would...would you be alright with that?”

“Would you?”

We hadn’t come back to that conversation, instead trying to focus on the rest of the party. Because Tommy was easily tired out, they didn’t stay for much longer. At any other time, I would insist they stay, even after putting Tommy to bed. However, I wasn’t being a good host as I let them put on their shoes and coats, each waving goodbye to little Tommy. With the door closed, and just the three of us leftover, Fred and I flopped onto the sofa, letting Tommy roam and tire himself out.

“I’ll book an appointment for this week.” I mumbled, trying to not let my eyes droop.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Fred said.

“I...I don’t know. It would be nice but George might get suspicious.”

“Would it be so bad if he found out? You know he would keep it a secret.”

“That’s true. Alright, come with me. Let’s find out together.”

And that’s what happened. Unfortunately it was almost another two weeks before I was able to be checked over; there had been a strange atmosphere as we waited, that’s all we were concentrating on. Tommy still received as much love as he usually did, but there were times where I would stress about the future. Tommy was just one, and if I was pregnant, there wasn’t going to be a big age gap between the children. That would be hard. They would be toddlers together, there would be screaming, crying, toilet training, the money for nappies, clothes, toys....but every time I found myself down that hole, Fred was there to pull me out, consoling me, assuring me we would be alright with one more child.

I had been bouncing Tommy on my lap as we waited for the doctor to see us. Fred had to take him away from me, worried that I would cause him to be sick, but it was a nervous tick. I was extremely grateful to have Fred with me, concentrating on his thumb running over the back of my hand, and the gentle kisses he would place on my forehead. But the appointment went by in a flash, and as we walked outside, I couldn’t help but squeal in excitement and shock, exclaiming loudly to everyone around me;

“WE’RE PREGNANT!”

George obviously had to know first, seeing as we took the day off work. But he was sworn to secrecy. We wanted to keep it under wraps for a while, waiting to see what my first trimester was like. The excitement was almost too much for me, I couldn’t stop picturing what it was going to be like for Tommy to have a sibling. Another person to add to our family, someone else to give our love to. Things were going well, of course there were the horrible symptoms, though I said to myself over and over again that this would be worth. The weeks whizzed by, and soon, I was starting to show, meaning Fred and I couldn’t stop rubbing the tiny bump. I had bawled when Tommy rested his head on it one night, as if he understood his brother or sister was in there.

We knew it would be impossible to keep it hidden anymore, and I seemed very healthy so far. We were also bursting to tell our friends and family, trying to think of ways to announce it. Fred suggested huge fireworks that wrote it out, but I knew that would be too much. Instead, he settled for a cake where the icing would start writing out the message ‘We’re Pregnant!’ when the candles were lit. Once again, the family found themselves squashed together, this time meeting at the Burrow. Tommy stood on Harry’s lap, clumsily using his face to balance himself as Fred and I caught everyone’s attention.

“We thought we would bring you all something special, a thank you for supporting us through the entire adoption process and for helping us get used to being parents.” I explained, pushing the cake into the centre of the table.

The candles had just been lit, and as everyone licked their lips at the sight of it, they realised what was happening. Screams, hollers and cheers erupted throughout the small room, causing me to burst into tears at the happiness. This was good, this was going to be an amazing chapter of my life.

My mother and molly would send me pregnancy books, recipes for meals that were good for the baby, or just natter on and on about advice, side effects, and what childbirth actually entailed. Sometimes it was a bit too much, I would wish they held some details back. The checkups were going well, Tommy’s behaviour was getting better as he grew, also Fred’s enthusiasm seemed to never die down. However, it had come to that certain appointment, the one some couples longed for. It was time to find out the gender of our child. The results we were given weren’t what we were expecting.

Stepping into the shop, I relaxed when I saw it wasn’t too busy. Fred was desperate to tell his brother the news. As he went to get him, I laughed at Tommy’s wide eyes, taking in all the colours and noises. Fred gestured for me to follow him into the stock room, getting their workers to take over the floor. As I stepped in, flashbacks to Tommy as a newborn came to me. How strange, it was almost like a full circle.

“So, what’s it gonna be then?” George grinned.

I giggled at Fred who was almost jumping up and down in excitement.“Go on then, I said you could tell him.”

“Well, Georgie, it’s a boy-”

He threw his arms up in the air.“Yes! I knew it!”

“And a girl.”

“Wait, what?” his arms slowly sank down.

“We’re having twins! There’s going to be another set of Weasley twins!”

George responded with a loud cheer, throwing himself onto his brother in an engulfing hug. They were patting each other on the back, at first jumping about before they calmed down, swaying side to side.

“Freddie, that’s amazing! (Y/N), you’re going to be massive!”

I scoffed a laugh, knowing he meant no harm.“Thank you very much George. You’ve already earned yourself a whole weekend of babysitting.”

“Have you told mum yet?”

“No,” Fred said,“you’re the first.”

“She’s going to go crazy.”

“So is mine.” I stated.

“Who would have thought, eh? Another set of twins?”

“I’m going to finally know what it was like to raise you two. Perhaps I should have a masterclass from your mum.”

“She’ll give you lots of tips, and stories about how much of a terror we were.”

“Great, looking forward to that.”

Leaving the shop, Fred took over carrying Tommy in one arm, his other hand holding mine. We dawdled on our way home, seeming to be in no rush as we took in what news we were given today.

I smiled as I placed a hand on my bump.“Fred?”

“Hm?” Tommy was already falling asleep on his shoulder.

“Are we really doing this?”

He smiled back.“We really are.”

[scapegrace74-blog]

Lucky

A/N  I’m enjoying going back and filling in some of the missing Metric Universe details.  This one is set during the time of Jamie’s injury, so just after The Beginning, and it introduces some important secondary characters.

Inspired by the Radiohead song “Lucky”, and particularly by Thom Yorke wailing “it’s going to be a glorious day” as though he is trying to will it to be true from the depths of his agonized soul.

The entire Metric Universe is available on my Ao3 page.

January 6, 2015, The Royal London Hospital

Sterile hallways.  The noxious funk of London smog blending with the antiseptic sting of the Intensive Care Unit.  The endless thrum of traffic, bleep of life-saving equipment, squeak of rubber soles on linoleum.  It was only when she left the Highlands that she realized how much she took their clean air and miles of quiet for granted.

A few feet away from where she kept vigil in a stiff avocado chair, her brother lay in a medically-induced coma.  An orchestra of machinery beat out the tempo to his survival.  The zigs and zags of his heartbeat against the ivory background of an electrocardiograph called forth memories of their youth, racing like wee fiends down the snow-laden slopes behind Lallybroch.

Younger by four years, Jamie had long been larger-than-life, even before he surpassed her own diminutive stature at age eleven.  Lying now under hospital sheets carefully draped to avoid his flayed back, she remembered the tiny babe in arms their mother had carefully lowered into her lap all those years ago.  Fragile, as though life clung to him with only a provisional grip.

“Dinna ye dare think of leaving me, Jamie Fraser,” she softly threatened for what must be the hundredth time since arriving at her brother’s bedside five days before.  “I ken ye miss them, but Mam and Da have each other now.  I only have you.”

January 11, 2015, The Royal London Hospital

“Fer the love of Christ and all the saints, jus’ drink the damn water ye clotheid!” an all-too-familiar female voice rang out.

“Leave me in peace, Janet.  I dinna want any water,” a masculine growl replied.

Ian Murray was still some distance from Room 418A, but he could hear the siblings bickering just fine.  Doubtless a good handful of staff and other patients were within earshot as well.  He rounded the corner and observed a scene that was equal parts poignant, comic and exasperating.

Immobile by necessity while the surface of his back slowly reinvented itself, his best friend lay facing the door.  Ian’s fiancée stood beside the bedrail, five feet of visible agitation.  She held a cup of ice water so tightly in her right hand, the straw quivered.

Jamie was no longer the pallid husk who awaited them at the end of a frantic race from Lallybroch to the Royal London that first morning of the new year.  Normally hale and over-flowing with vitality, it was distressing to witness him so motionless, eyes sunken and muscles slack.  Unfortunately for both Jamie and Ian, Jenny’s sharp tongue increased in direct proportion to how much emotional turmoil she was forced to cope with.

“Och, ye’re finally here,” the woman in question exclaimed.  “Will ye explain tae this bampot tha’ he willna improve if he doesna listen tae what his doctors tell him?”

“And what of no’ getting me riled up, hmm?  Ye dinna seem tae care what the doctors say when ye stick yer neb in my face every twa minutes.”

“Mebbe the doctors dinna realize that ye’re a muckle-sized bairn with the sense God gave an...”

“ALRIGHT, THE BOTH OF YE!” Ian yelled over the melee.  “I am tired of hearing ye bicker an’ so is the entire fourth floor.  Jenny, ye’re tired.  I’ll take o’er for the night while ye get some rest.  An’ Jamie, drink yer water before I pour it over yer bloody hot head.”

Both Frasers froze with their mouths open in retort, surprised by Ian’s uncharacteristic outburst.  A deafening minute of silence elapsed before Jenny silently gathered her coat, cap and purse, wished the two men a curt goodnight, then left in a swish of gabardine and discontent.

“Ye’re gonna pay for that later,” Jamie remarked, bending a rueful smirk around the extended straw.

“It’ll be worth it no’ tae hear ye two scold each other fer eight hours,” Ian retorted, taking Jenny’s place in the uncomfortable avocado armchair but sliding it back a foot so that it no longer blocked Jamie’s view of the hallway.  

“Jen could harry Auld Nick inta church, and ye ken it well, a charaid.”

“Grant her some mercy.  She’s scared witless, Jamie.  After yer Da...” Ian left the rest unsaid.

His childhood friend nodded against the bleach white pillow, weariness and something more insidious weighting his eyes closed.  Minutes passed, but Ian could tell from his irregular breath than Jamie was still awake.

“How is it today?”

A shoulder twitched in a minute shrug which still caused its owner’s brows to furrow with pain, though his eyes remained closed.

“Hurts like hell, if ye must know.  But I’m told I should feel lucky tae be alive by a team o’ London’s finest medical minds.”

“And do ye?” Ian persisted, trying to excavate the kernel of anguish that lay almost hidden beneath all the layers of physical pain.  It had been nagging at him since Jamie first woke three days earlier.  It wasn’t only the extensive physical damage to his body and daunting road to recovery that was afflicting his friend.  The blast had shifted something nearer his foundation, destabilizing the very structure of the man he’d known since childhood.

A long, hissing breath told him Jamie understood what Ian meant by his question, and was giving it due consideration.

“Mebbe feeling lucky is wha’ led me tae this hospital bed.”  He spoke quietly but urgently, with the tone of a penitent in the confessional booth awaiting divine judgement.

“Ye dinna mean ye think ye deserved tae be burnt near tae death?  Christ, Jamie, twas an industrial accident and ye’re a firefighter.  Awful luck, aye, but twasn’t something ye did or didna do that brought it upon ye.”

Another long pause, and this time Ian thought his friend may have fallen asleep.  Finally, almost drowned out by the whir and whisper of life-giving machinery,

“I dinna ken what I think anymore, a charaid.  I got lost, an’ this is where my mindless feet brought me.”

Long after Jamie drifted to sleep, Ian sat in the awkward chair, listening to his breathing and trying to make sense of what he’d just been told.

February 13, 2015, The Royal London Hospital

Beads of sweat furled down his neck and his back burned anew.   Aegrescit medendo, he thought wryly as he readjusted his grip on the wheeled walker and continued his unsteady progress.

“Very good, lad.  We’ll have you running again in no time!”  Dauntlessly cheerful and deceptively matronly, Jamie soon learned that Maureen Graham was an exacting physical therapist as well.  It was exactly what he wanted, when he wasn’t cursing her for it.

“Can we no’ take the elevator to another floor?  Mebbe down tae the A&E?”  Jamie tried to pass it off as an offhand request, but silver-grey eyes narrowed shrewdly.

“That’s the third time you’ve asked to go downstairs this week, Jamie Fraser.  I’m beginning to think you don’t like my ward.”

Thwarted, he carefully pivoted in a half circle and began the arduous trek back down the hallway to his room.  Six weeks spent nearly immobile while the surface of his back was slowly reborn had sapped all his strength.  Even if permission had been granted, he wasn’t certain he could navigate his weakened frame all the way to the emergency ward he’d last visited the night of his accident.  The last place he’d seen her.

“What’s her name?” Mrs. Graham asked as he shuffled the final few feet and sank gratefully against his bed.  He thought about deflecting her conjecture, but it posed an opportunity too good to pass up.

“I dinna ken”, he confessed.  “Twas the nurse who saw tae me when I was first admitted.  Curly brown hair.  Eyes the colour o’ ripened barley.  I think she served overseas fer a time.  Afghanistan, mebbe?”

He was doing his best to appear nonchalant, aided in part by the fact that his muscles twitched violently after every therapy session, but he still didn’t think he was fooling Mrs. Graham.

“Oh, I know just the one.  You were lucky to be in her hands.  No wonder you pulled through.”  She poured a large amount of fresh water into his re-useable bottle.  He drank it down in rapid gulps that leaked over his chin.  He realized his was beyond pride at this point.

“Her name?” he begged.

“Nurse Beecham.  Spelled the French way, but she’s as English as they come.”

Nurse Beauchamp.  She finally had a name.  He vowed he would recover his strength so that one day he could walk up to her and properly express his gratitude.