#i am so far past the point of no return you guys

[lesbianmarrow]

sorryyyyyy but spike tossing a cigarette on the ground in front of buffy as a way of announcing his presence is so cute. sweet little microcosm of their relationship. he causes a bit of mayhem and she swiftly puts a stop to it. crushes the cigarette under her shoe. that's her job. and he knows that's what she's going to do. he knows what the outcome will be. but he tosses the cigarette anyway. mutual enrichment. he's just playing. and she understands and it makes her smile.

[wild-at-mind]

Not to talk about MRA-lite spaces again but I'm going to need everyone to understand that in these spaces, the subtext of 'men don't get to talk about their problems' is ALWAYS 'and it is women's fault!'

[the-sunshine-dragon]

.

[batshit-auspol]

I really enjoy this blog so much. Gimme your most favorite batshit auspolitics moment from the 2000s to 2010s. please. i am morbidly curious.

2007: The APEC conference, where all global leaders converge in one city to pretend like they're doing things, is to be held in Sydney, Australia. With the war on terror in full swing, security is at a maximum, and large swathes of the city are placed behind a giant multi-layered steel fence to keep the world leaders far away from the unwashed masses.

Attempting to ward off trouble, organisers of the conference hold a meeting with notorious political comedy prank group "The Chaser", to tell them they are, under absolutely no circumstances getting anywhere near any world leaders, and to not even bother trying.

"The whole perimeter is secure," security forces told them sternly. "The only thing getting through that fence is a motorcade."

24 hours later The Chaser were on their way towards the fence with a motorcade.

Now a few things should have tipped off security guards that this fake Canadian motorcade was not a the real deal. Number one: Canada wasn't at the conference, number two: no country has actually had security running alongside cars since the 60s, and three: most security guards don't carry video cameras with them or passes that read "this is fake".

Nevertheless the ruse was more successful than anyone had anticipated, and The Chaser team were happily waved into the most secure area on planet earth by police, who informed the incognito comedians that "the road is yours."

Reaching the outside of George Bush's hotel, the pranksters now began to worry that they were never going to be stopped by police and decided to get out of the car and walk back to the fence.

While dressed as Osama Bin Laden.

At this point all hell broke loose. Snipers were locked on. Confused police scrambled, and immediately arrested the whole group, only breathing a sigh of relief when they saw the words "Chaser" on the fake security passes.

Bizarrely the police opted to give a full escort to the guy dressed in a suit, and allowed the other man cosplaying as the world's most wanted terrorist to just casually walk out on his own before booking him at the perimeter.

The Chaser team said that while being put in a cell overnight wasn't fun, they were less stressed after police started visiting to ask for photos and signatures.

The prank group were later hauled before the courts and threatened with a massive fine, but the case was eventually dropped after they successfully argued that it's not technically breaking-in if the cops happily wave you into a high security zone.

Needless to say they have changed that law for future APECs.

Making light of the situation, the prank group also returned to the site a few days later dressed as carboard cars, to see just how flimsy a disguise could get past police.

This time at least, they were not let in.

[pellucid-constellations]

All Over Again

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're drunk. Your mate is trying to get you home. Only problem is—you're really, really drunk.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Drinking, absolutely zero attempt to establish a pov on my part

a/n: A cute little drabble because if it all fell is making me a tiny bit sad and I love this trope <3

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

The world spun around you as you let out a delighted laugh, faerie wine pulsing in your veins. This was bliss, and—admittedly—the most fun you’d had in months. The workload you’d been dealt this last year was one for the books. 

“Exactly how many drinks did you have?” Feyre asked you, red and green rays lighting up her face in time with the beat inside Rita’s. 

“So many,” you yelled back, flinging your arms around her shoulders. “So many and I’m going to have more!” 

The High Lady chuckled and swayed with you as you dragged her around the dancefloor. 

This was good for you, your friends had decided, a girl’s night where you could let go of all your responsibilities and inhibitions and then sleep for a solid two days afterward. Feyre and Mor had agreed to stay relatively sober to watch over you, but Mor was just as intoxicated as you were at this point.

“Mor!” you screamed, the shout directed fully into Feyre’s ear. She flinched, but you just continued. “Mor, come here! We can all dance together!” 

The blonde was pulled into the circle of fae, but very little “dancing” took place. You were far past the level of functional inebriation. 

“We should get Azriel,” Feyre shouted over your head, trying to catch the attention of her very distracted friend. 

But Mor just laughed and asked, “Who the hell is that?” as she left the pair to join a woman in a dazzling purple dress at the bar. 

Feyre bit back a sigh, still feeling patient with the small amount of alcohol running through her. “We should go home, yeah?” she attempted, catching your clutch as it tumbled out of your hands. 

You responded with a loud, “Woo!” and Feyre knew she needed to call in reinforcements. A quick outstretch of her mind and the request was sent. 

“This is so much fun!” Your smile was infectious, Feyre replicating it unconsciously as she watched you jump around. “I love you!” you screamed at her—again, directly into her ear. 

It was a few short minutes before Azriel’s presence was felt inside the overcrowded pleasure hall. Small streams of black shadows had begun to slink around your shoulders and arms with you none the wiser to their arrival. Feyre smirked when you jumped at a hand on your back. 

“Hello, my love,” Azriel said, voice low as he bent over to relay the words. “Having fun?” 

Your responding screech had panic flashing across the spymaster’s face, the man simply watching as you threw yourself against Feyre’s chest. He sent a tentative hand out in your direction, but you only pressed further into your friend. 

“Y/n—” Azriel began. 

“I’m married,” you seethed. “I have a mate,” you doubled down. 

Azriel blinked. 

He looked around him, checking behind his tightly coiled wings and past the broad expanse of his shoulders. 

When no other fae appeared to be lurking near his mate, Azriel returned his attention to the pair in front of him, his hazel eyes meeting your piercing (but rather hazy) glare. 

“Y/n, I am… well aware that you have a mate,” he replied, shaking his head to match his slow words. 

You scoffed, sending Feyre a glance as if to say, “Can you believe this guy?” 

“Well, then you should be well aware—” A shaky, misguided finger pointed close to where Azriel was standing “—that I am not interested in you. Got that?” 

A smile paired with furrowed brows conveyed the vast array of Azriel’s current feelings. He watched as you sent him another scathing glare and turned back to your High Lady, noticing the uneven way you stood and the handful of your belongings being managed by your friend. 

“She’s had a lot to drink,” Feyre emphasized. “I’ve been trying to get her to go home but she won’t budge. I thought you’d be able to persuade her. She’s been talking about you nonstop.” 

You were maneuvered into a quieter hallway as Feyre recounted your adventures of the night, making sure to catalog each drink she saw you consume. Azriel fought back a grimace as he pictured you in the morning. You had the worst hangovers. 

“Y/n,” Feyre began, offering you an encouraging smile as you blearily blinked at her words. “Azriel’s here. Do you want to see him? He said he’d bring you home with him.” 

This time, you gasped, face betraying you as it heated with embarrassment. “You called Azriel here?” 

“Mhm, and he said he’s terribly exhausted and needs you to come home for the night.” 

You gaped. “He wants me to come home with him?” 

Standing at your back, Azriel felt his expression pucker in confusion. Hadn’t you just chastised him for flirting with you, a married woman? A married woman who was married to him? 

Feyre seemed to agree with that sentiment as she nodded and said, “Of course he does. He always wants you with him.” 

Your eyes grew wide, hands reaching out to grip Feyre’s shoulders in a serious motion. “Did you tell him?” you panicked. “Fey, you promised you wouldn’t tell him. It could ruin everything.” 

Azriel was suddenly catapulted back about 20 years to when you were too nervous to tell him you were in love with him and Azriel was too much of an idiot to tell you that you were his mate. But that time had passed, thankfully, long ago. The two of you were now very much in love, both mated and married shortly after the inner circle had meddled in your affairs. 

Looking past his disorientation, Azriel caught your wide, pleading gaze directed at Feye. 

“Y/n?” he asked, craning his neck to catch your eyes. When you slowly turned in mortification, a soft kind of adoration pulled at his chest. “Hey,” he smiled. “I’m going to take you home, alright?” 

“O-Okay,” you blushed, taking his outstretched hand in your own. “To my apartment?” 

“No, I thought we’d go to mine. That alright?” he asked, voice gravelly and low and echoing off the long hallway inside Rita’s. 

It didn't matter that you were actually going to his house. The one the two of you shared. 

Instinctually, Azriel grabbed your hand, twinning his fingers with yours and pulling you closer. You, however, so drunk that you were unsure of your current whereabouts or today's date, let out a shaky breath at the intimacy. Azriel felt your fingers tremble between his own. 

“Is this okay?” he found himself asking. 

You nodded jerkily, and Azriel relished in the feeling of falling in love with you all over again. It was an immensely better experience than you pushing him away and accusing him of preying on married women. 

His married woman, but that was beside the point. 

A few steps in silence. You shivered with the rush of cool air outside the pleasure hall. Azriel shifted his wings out, enveloping you in their warmth. 

“Um,” you began, fiddling with his fingers as they rested beside yours. “It’s really nice of you to walk me home.” 

His heart was going to burst. Seeing you, his mate, so shy and reserved and hopelessly enamored by him in such a public way was endlessly endearing. 

“Of course. I would never let you walk home alone,” he replied evenly. And then, to spice things up, he added, “I told you I would always protect you. I meant that.” 

“You said th—” 

You whipped your head to the side as you spoke, losing your balance with the alcohol coursing through you. Your feet fumbled over each other and Azriel caught your hip to deter you from making a full-on beeline for the ground. After he was sure you were not going to plummet to your death, he tucked your hair back from your face. 

“You are my mate,” he said, so assuredly. It was a truth ingrained within him. “I will always walk you home.” 

Your eyes went wide, fingers wrapped tightly around his arms as he held you. You held eye contact with your mate, a feat in and of itself with the state of your head, and he watched as your tongue came out to wet your lips. 

And then, just because he could—because you were his and because you probably wouldn’t remember this in the morning—he whispered, “I love you.” 

The sharp intake of breath that followed his words was apparently too much for your alcohol-addled brain. You let out a small squeak, blinked at him several times, and then, you fainted. Directly into your mate's arms. 

Azriel carried you home (the one you two shared, to clarify yet again), silently laughing to himself, feeling quite smug at the outcome that night. 20 years and he still felt the same. 20 years and he was still in disbelief that he got to walk you home. 

[deadsetobsessions]

Fae adjacent! Danny, pt. 3

Jason returns to consciousness with a scream trapped before it could come to life. He twisted his neck back and forth and back and forth.

It was the last thing he did before he died. When the Joker left and told him to say hello to the big guy, Jason could not muster up the energy to make a single sound.

But Bruce… Bruce was here this time, heavy head making the mattress by his leg dip.

The scars that ran over his face stretched as he blinked.

“…B?”

Bruce’s head shot up, eyes bloodshot and bags heavier than a Gotham socialite’s solid gold Dior purse.

“Jaylad.”

Jason- Jason was alive now. Bruce’s hug felt warm, the tear spot on his shoulder was damp as his dad cried while hugging him.

And Jason should be happy. He’s alive again. His dad loved him.

But all he could think about was the cold of the coffin, the squelch of mud and dirt, and the unerringly wrong feeling of knowing he came back but he came back wrong.

——

Tim had wandered Gotham in the weeks following Jason’s reawakening. He wasn’t avoiding Bruce Wayne. He wasn’t. But Tim knows he’ll have to answer questions soon. He just wasn’t ready.

Tim looked up at the den of pixies- pixies were real!- and squared his shoulders. He did his research. Tim Drake walks into the den with nothing but foolish hope and Gotham-brand audacity. He’ll get answers about Danny today. He will.

——

Soul-Plucker, they called him. Danny Fenton, the proprietor of Fenton Artifacts. The High King.

“I thought King Oberon was the High King?”

The pixies chittered at the little human that could have been kin. Their wings fluttered at their backs, muffled by cloth. It’s not often they find kindred. It really is too bad that Fenton had his mark on the child. How they would have loved to whisk him away. He would have made entertainment that would last a millennia! Or until the court decided to cut of his tongue, at least. How well he had tricked them!

“Of course! Of course! King Oberon is our king, see?” A younger pixie swirled her drink, a shining red and blue thing. “But he’s the High King of another court!”

“The High King of the Infinite Realms, encompassing far more than King Oberon and Queen Tatianna could ever reach.”

Another pixie chimed in, on their fourth glass of amber colored nectar. “The Soul-Plucker!”

“The Beginning of the End.”

“Afterlife IRS department!”

“He who wanders.”

“Death-Caller.” Another one said, grave and serious.

“The Arbiter.”

“So, he’s like, the boss of bosses?” Tim asked. What kind of entity did he make a deal with? Why was he kind to Tim? What motives did Danny have?

“Uh huh!”

“Then what’s he’s doing here?”

“Who knows? The whims of the most powerful are unknown to us.” The pixies clustered around Tim. “Won’t you play another game with us, Alvin? You’re so good at it! Oh, how about a drink?”

“Can’t. I gotta get home. Also, I’m a minor.” Tim slipped passed their fluttering wings and manic smiles. They move to let him past, waving drinks at him in a tantalizing manner.

“And where is that, sweet one?”

“Somewhere, Liltri. Somewhere.”

Tim Drake was a child of pure will, pure hard headed foolishness, a mind sharper than any blade, and luck more terrifying than the creatures he now dealt with. And so, he stepped out of the Pixie Bar with more questions than answers but he stepped out unharmed.

——

“Who are you?” The shadows shift as Lady Gotham unveiled her knight.

Danny felt his eyes cool, glinting green and blue. Lady Gotham forgets who her liege is.

“Haven’t you done your research? You who walks along the edge of shadows, my shop is not a place to dismiss decorum.”

“You brought… you brought him back. How. Why?”

“You want answers? Then give me something in return.”

Danny gestured to the circle his clients have come to know as the deal-maker. Danny doesn’t ask for much in return. Just… something equal to the request.

“Ah,” Danny pointed up at the sign. “I am legally able to deny you my service, so don’t get any ideas.”

Batman was studied up on myths. But he was not a believer, and that both hindered and helped him. What was a god, in front of the faithless? What was the faithless in front of power?

The vigilante stepped into the circle, unable to see the subtle shimmering of magic but remained unbound by the virtue of his disbelief.

“What do you want for answers?”

“You do not often deal with the occult, do you?” Danny tapped the counter. Batman remained silent.

“I have a soft spot for vigilantes,” Danny continued. “And so I won’t ask for much. Just… your cape.”

“Not my hair? A body part?”

“If you were dealing with the fae, you’d probably would lose something of that value, yes.”

“You aren’t fae.”

Danny merely smiled. “Do we have a deal?”

“My cape in exchange for honest answers to my questions.”

Danny huffed, approval glinting in his eyes.

“Your cape for honest answers to three questions,” Danny pointed at the sign, still hanging above them. “Three questions or nothing.”

Batman grimaced. “Deal.”

“Ask your questions, protector.”

“Why did you bring Jason back to life?”

“I didn’t.” Danny grinned. The Bat should have stipulated that he must answer elaborately. He looked like he realized that. Oh well. His mistake. Well, not like there was actual magic binding Danny, so technically, Danny could lie off his ass.

“…Will Jason stay alive?” Danny had a heart and this man was a much better father than Jack ever was.

“Yes. Barring unnatural causes, his soul is firmly attached to his body and will not shuffle off the mortal coil without warning.”

The lines of Batman’s shoulders slumped. Relief. He paused.

“What are your intentions in this city?”

“To run my shop… and to enjoy retirement.”

Danny laughed at Batman’s stoic face. “Disappointed I am not up to nefarious deeds, little knight?”

“No.”

Danny tapped the table. “My payment?”

Batman shucked off his cape and handed it to Danny.

“Why my cape?”

Danny smiled a fanged little thing. “Because your costume looks stupid without it and I could use a laugh.”

Batman grumbled and turned to leave. Ha paused, eyes catching on the glint of camera lenses.

“How much for that?”

“For the little sparrow’s camera?” Danny sighed, eyes fixed on the form of a vigilante who was more kind than angry for once. “Two thousand dollars.”

“That’s a huge markup.”

“That’s how much it means to me, compared to the rest.” Danny slid beyond the counter, a ghostly air about him. He pinned his newly earned cape up. “My shop, my prices, little knight.”

Batman silently handed him two thousand dollars and left with the little sparrow’s camera.

[theemporium]

[1.7k] they want to believe jack when he says he has a girlfriend. they really do. it's just kind of hard to do so when they never see her. or, in which everyone is worried jack has found himself in a parasocial relationship.

.

“Fuck.” 

Jack raised his head, finding his attention drawn to his captain sitting on the aisle across from him on the bus. He watched as the man began patting himself down before he let out a sigh, standing up to reach for his bag on the overhead shelf. Yet, whatever he was trying to find was a fruitless endeavour as he settled back in his seat with a frown on his face.

“You good?” 

“Hm,” Nico hummed, letting out another long breath as he leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, I just forgot my headphones.”

“Nico Hischier not being organised?” Jack teased, a smile growing on his face. “Someone alert the authorities.”

Nico huffed out a laugh. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” 

“Just messin’ with you, cap,” Jack mused, deciding to be the better person and not point out the fact he could see Nico’s dimple even if the boy tried to act like he wasn’t laughing. “Here, I’ll share my music with you. Because I’m nice like that.”

The older boy raised his brows. “Your music for the full five hour drive?”

Jack raised his brows in return. “Do you have anything else better to do?”

“Fair enough,” Nico murmured before he reached over, taking the airpod and slipping it into his ear. “But I get to add some songs too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack waved him off before handing over his phone. “Maybe try more English rap songs so I can understand them too, yeah?” 

“Sure, because I’m nice like that,” Nico said with a grin before he turned to shift his attention to Jack’s phone. He clicked on the queue, his brows furrowing slightly when he saw the songs lined up. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Nico murmured. “I just thought you were a country music kind of guy. Never thought you’d be into the rock scene.”

Jack’s cheeks burned as he let out a slightly strained laugh. “I was, uh, broadening my horizons.”

Nico turned to look at him. “So you chose one band? You know, I know a couple of bands if you want them—”

“I’m fine with that band,” Jack said, flashing his captain a smile. 

“You’ve liked every one of their songs.”

“Mhm.”

“So, you know you like the genre, at least. Maybe you should try—”

“I’m good.”

“Jack—”

“Start queuing songs before I take my phone back, Hisch.”

Nico stared at him for a few moments, noting the way he fidgeted in his seat with his cheeks flushed far brighter than they should be with the bus AC blasting. But, Nico decided he would be nice this time around and not bring it up.

Not yet, at least.

Plus the band Jack had chosen was pretty good, if he did say so himself.

...

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yourusername ready to rock north america❤️🖤

view all 13,738 comments

user i am going to the nashville show!!!

user she is THE moment

user omg i can't believe the tour has already started

user BKEWBFJBWEKFBKWEJBF

jackhughes congrats on the tour!! ur gonna kill it!!❤️‍🔥

user JACK HUGHES????

user who the fuck is jack hughes?

...

“What are you giggling at?”

“I’m not giggling at anything.” 

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You literally giggled as you said that.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Unfortunately for Luke, this had been a recurring conversation over the last few weeks because, despite what he said, Jack spent the better part of his free time giggling at his phone. It was sickening and annoying and Luke was so done with trying to scroll through TikTok with his brother snickering like some teenage girl in the background. 

It was starting to grate on his last nerve.

“You’re so full of shit,” Luke grumbled as he shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, narrowing his eyes on his big brother from over the kitchen counter. 

“Maybe you should find someone to text and stop bothering me,” Jack retorted, the words slipping past his lips so casually, almost like he hadn’t realised what he said. 

But Luke heard loud and clear.

He straightened up in his seat, his annoyance now replaced with curiosity and he flashed his brother an inquisitive look. “Who are you messaging that has you giggling?” 

“I am not giggling,” Jack huffed out before he lifted his head, finally looking away from his phone screen to catch his brother’s gaze. “And, for your information, I am texting my girlfriend.” 

A few moments of silence passed as both boys stared at each other.

Luke blinked. “When the fuck did you get a girlfriend?” 

“It’s new,” Jack said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. 

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “How new?” 

“Just a couple of months or so,” Jack murmured, at least having the guts to look a little sheepish as a light blush spread across his cheeks. 

“Months?!” Luke repeated with a scoff, the bowl of cereal he was snacking on now long forgotten. “How come this is the first time I’m hearing of it?” 

“We are keeping things private!” Jack defended. 

“I’m your brother!” Luke retorted. “You’re meant to tell me shit. I’d tell you if I had a girlfriend! Quinn would tell me if he had a girlfriend!” 

“But neither of you do,” he snapped back with a shit-eating grin. 

“And you supposedly do,” Luke muttered, shaking his head. “What’s her name?” 

“That’s not important.”

Luke blinked. “Uh, yeah, dude, I think it is.” 

Jack shrugged again. “Maybe I don’t want you to know.” 

“Why not?” Luke questioned, watching his brother just shrug again—not that he was getting fucking sick of that or anything—before he glared. “Is it someone I know?” 

“Maybe.” 

“You’re being ridiculously vague right now and it’s annoying as fuck,” Luke told him. 

Jack’s grin widened. “I know!” 

“Fine, keep your stupid secrets,” Luke grumbled as he reached for his spoon again, rolling his eyes when he heard Jack laughing. “Like I fucking care anyways.” 

But he did. 

He really fucking did and he would find out who this secret girlfriend was if it’s the last thing he did. 

...

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yourusername las vegas, you ALWAYS make me feel at home❤️🖤

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user MOTHER!!!

user hot AND talented. your fav could never

user new music when!!!

user THE SHIRT-

jackhughes ur so pretty😍😍😍

user not this guy again

user not a man

notzegrasipromise JACK???

...

...

“Yeah, I mean, I love my parents but I wish my girlfriend could’ve made it out. It would have been nice to have her here for the family skate too.” 

That was all it took for the hustling and bustling of the locker room to come to a screeching halt. 

Jack frowned, his hands holding his jersey in his hand that he had just taken off as he glanced around the room. All of the boys were giving him different looks: some concerned, some amused, some confused. It was throwing him off. 

“Uh, what?” 

“You have a girlfriend?” It was Dawson who eventually asked, his brows furrowed together in questioning.

“Yeah,” Jack nodded, feeling an odd sense of deja vu from the conversation he had with Luke a few weeks ago. “Geez, I didn’t realise we had to announce stuff like this now.”

“I mean,” Jesper spoke up, shrugging his shoulders. “We’re close, yeah? We usually just tell each other these things. You’ve never mentioned her before.”

“Don’t bother asking for her name,” Luke grumbled from the other side of the locker room.

“She’s not coming to the family skate?” Nico questioned, focusing the attention back to Jack who simply shrugged.

“She travels a bunch for work,” Jack explained. “Or, at least, for right now. She’s out in Nashville right now so she couldn’t make it.”

“But I thought you were all over that rockstar girl,” Simon spoke up from his stall, leaning back against the cubby, half dressed and legs spread. “Every time I open Twitter, I see it.”

Jack’s cheeks burned. 

Jesper gave him a disapproving look. “Don’t tell me you’ve been commenting on another girl’s instagram when you have a girlfriend. What does she think about it?”

“She likes them!” Jack defended. 

Jesper frowned. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of desperate on instagram,” Simon continued with a snort.

“Well, she hasn’t told me to stop,” Jack huffed.

“Yes, because a rockstar with a couple of million followers would personally reach out to stop you,” Luke drawled, a heavy layer of sarcasm dripping from his words.

“She would, considering she is my girlfriend.”

Once again, the locker room fell silent.

“You’re fucking shitting me,” Luke eventually spoke up, shaking his head. “You really think we believe that you pulled her?” 

Jack frowned. “What’s so hard to believe about that?”

“She’s an international rockstar and you’re just a dude who plays hockey,” Luke retorted. 

“So are you!” 

“Yeah, and I’m not sitting here trying to tell people I’m dating Taylor Swift, am I?”

“This is different,” Jack huffed before looking around the room. “I’m dating her! I really am! We met at that rock bar in Jersey City a couple of months ago and we’ve been chatting ever since.”

The boys all gave each other various looks.

“Fine, don’t believe,” Jack grumbled as he leaned down to start untying his skates. “I know I’m telling the truth. It’s not my fault you don’t believe me.”

For the record, only Jim and Ellen Hughes showed up to the New Jersey Devils’ family skate. 

...

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yourusername east coast, we are coming for you!!❤️🖤

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user i cannot believe the tour is almost over

user NEW MUSIC WHEN

user i'm seeing you in eight days!!!!

user oh my god she is so hot

jackhughes coming back to the better coast❤️🖤

user omg he is copying the hearts too

user he is delusional

user it is the devils colours

user you sound just as delusional as him

...

“So, I’ve been talking to Luke.” 

“Oh great,” Jack grumbled as he sunk further into the pillows of the living room couch.

“And I went on Twitter.”

“You must have been pretty bored to redownload it,” Jack commented, suddenly finding interest in the strings of his hoodie, instead of his brother’s face on the phone screen. He should have known it was odd when Quinn messaged to check he was home alone before he called.

“Jack.” 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jack whined as he tried to hide himself deeper into his hoodie. “Whatever Luke told you is bullshit.”

“So you’re not telling people you’re dating an international rock sensation?” 

“Well, I’m not telling everyone,” Jack corrected. “But I am dating her!”

“Uh huh.”

“Not you too,” Jack groaned, throwing his head back and finding his gaze locked on some random part of the ceiling. “Quinn, why would I lie about this?” 

“Because you took a rough hit to the head.”

His head quickly snapped down to glare at his older brother who had the audacity to smirk in response. 

“We’re just worried, Jack. You don’t mention a single thing about talking to her. Then you’re showing up in her comments. And then you’re claiming to date her. All whilst playing and training like normal.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine if you have a little crush or something but—”

“She isn’t just a crush, she’s my girlfriend,” Jack repeated for the umpteenth time. “You’ll see soon.”

Quinn didn’t look awfully convinced  but he knew better than to push Jack on the matter any further. He instead shifted the conversation to a power play from the game before and, thankfully, Jack took the bait. In fact, he was far too busy rambling to even notice Quinn typing out a message straight to Luke. 

quinnifer: ur right 

quinnifer: he’s a fucking lost cause

...

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yourusername tour was a dream but happy to finally come home to you jackhughes ❤️🖤

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jackhughes glad to have my girl home❤️🖤

user WHAT

user a hard launch post tour??? oh she is sick

user i can't believe we lost her to a man

user IS THIS NOT THE HOCKEY DUDE

user omg he actually stood a chance

trevorzegras WHAT THE FUCK

trevorzegras WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

user omg one sings rock and the other plays at the rock

user IT WAS WRITTEN IN THE STARS

lhughes_06 holy shit

_quinnhughes didn't see that one coming

trevorzegras HOW WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY

user i think hockey dude broke his hockey friend

jackhughes he will be fine

trevorzegras NO HE WILL NOT BE FINE

trevorzegras ANSWER YOUR PHONE ROWDY

jackhughes leave me alone, i'm trying to spend time with my girlfriend

yourusername it's true :) very little clothes included

trevorzegras i'm going to go throw myself off a cliff

user what the fuck did i just wake up to

.

[dumpywrites]

Cat-astrophe - Min Yoongi / Suga

Summary: Your pet cat keeps going to your neighbor’s apartment and it’s a problem. 

Genre/tags: Fluff-ish, strangers to ???, minor mention of anxiety.

Pairing: Yoongi x she/her reader

a/n: cus we're all soft for long haired Yoongi, right? hehe

It had been officially a month since you had moved to a new apartment place. You loved the new place honestly. It was cozy and the neighborhood looked nice. There were many convenience store nearby and the street was always still busy until late at night, making you feel a little bit of secure when coming home late.

While the place was nice it had one tiny downside. It was rather on the far side from your workplace. It took you an hour of bus ride just to get home from the office, so some days could be more tiring than others. And today was one of those tiring days. 

It was around nine at night on a Monday. Having to work overtime for the deadline and missed the bus, really dreaded you out. You were both tired and hungry, arriving home only to find that your pet cat was missing. It really just was not your day.

To say you were panicking would be a bit of an understatement. Cookie was barely a four month-old cat and had a very tiny body. All the negative possibilities start filling your head and you were horrified by all of them. Not to mention how it was basically forbidden to bring pets in the apartment complex. It was one of the policies but you couldn't help it since Cookie was a rescue.

When you arrived at your apartment lobby with a cat snack on your hand, there wasn’t that many people there. You walked past a guy by the front desk, who had medium-length black locks and fair skin, with headphones dangling on his neck. You began to call your pet’s name as soon as you were outside the lobby, but suddenly you felt a light tap on your shoulder. 

“Are you looking for a small black Bombay cat?” It was the same guy who just walked past you.

“Oh my god, I am! Have you seen him???” You said, your voice was a little bit shaky. 

“He’s in my place, I’m on the seventh.” 

“Oh, me too!”

“I know.”

“Oh.” You said, surprised at how stoic he sounded saying that, but didn’t further question him on it. “I’m so sorry for bothering you, can I go get him now?”

“Sure, I was just gonna go up as well.”

When you both entered the elevator, you made a mental note to ask his name or at least introduce yourself. He was a neighbor after all. It was pretty silent inside the lift and you just hoped he didn’t hear your stomach rumbling ever so slightly. You took a deep breath, bearing the hunger for a little while. 

When the elevator door opened you followed him from behind as he led you to his door. When he stopped at his front door, your eyes were widened in shock. 

“You live next to me?!” 

“Yeah.” He said casually and unlocked the door. "I've seen you multiple times."

You chose to not further question and followed him but stopped when you had only took two steps in, because technically, the homeowner had not really officially permit you to come in. The guy seemed to notice how you just stood awkwardly and looked back. 

“You can sit down for a sec, I’ll go get him.” 

“Oh, right… yeah. Thank you.” You said awkwardly and walked to sit on his couch. 

A few seconds later the man came back with your cat in his embrace. Cookie was clinging on his tshirt before he tugged him and gave him onto your lap. 

“Cookie!” You called, almost teary. 

“I think he jumped from your balcony to mine. Make sure to close your balcony door next time.”

“Thank you so much, I owe you… uh…”

“Yoongi.” 

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You repeated and introduced yourself in return. “I’m Y/N, and if you ever need anything please let me now.” You said as you stood up, already making your way out. 

“Also, thank you for not reporting it…”

“No problem.” Was all the guy said and by this point you figured he was not much of a talker. 

You bid your goodbye to your neighbor, which only gained a small nod before he closed the door on you. You walked to your door and let Cookie down as soon as you got inside. Sighing deeply, you began to feel your stomach rumble again, this time it rumbled quite loudly. Your feet were aching from standing on the bus and now your body finally got on how tired you were. 

Cookie meowed and immediately went to his cat bed and laid down. You sighed and smiled at the small creature. 

“You little rascal… you’re lucky I love you.” 

You then went to your kitchen to cook yourself some instant ramen. 

The next day you went to work and had to take another overtime. Unfortunately you had to for the rest of the week until your current project was done. It was exhausting but you had to make it and mostly thinking about the bonus pay from it helped quite a bit. You spent the next few days the same, repeating the schedules, and the tiring work. 

It was almost ten at night that you arrived home and found out Cookie had gone missing again. For some reason your first instinct was to knock on your next door, in hope the neighbor who once helped you, could lend you a hand again, and hoping maybe Cookie just ran to his place again instead of being gone somewhere where it wasn't safe for him.

You knocked on the door and didn’t get immediate answer. You waited for what felt like five minutes, before the door opened and you were greeted with the sight of your neighbor with wet hair. He had a small white towel around his neck and the hoop earring that you saw him with before was absent. His skin looked glowing, you probably needed to ask about his skin care routine later.

“So sorry to interrupt you, I was wondering if Cookie might have gone to your place again?” 

“He’s right there on the couch.” He casually pointed. His expression was straight and had you wondering if he did not mind it, bothered, or simply didn’t care. 

You slowly walked to approach your cat and bent down to its level. “Cookie, you need to stop this…” You tapped the cat's nose, as if scolding the poor cat would do anything. 

“He jumped to my balcony again, did you forget to close the door?” 

“But I made sure to close it this morning…” You looked at your neighbor, who walked closer to inspect the cat. 

“I think he knows how to turn door knobs, since he’s quite a jumper. You need to lock the door.” 

“I can’t believe this little demon…” You sighed, fingers still stroking the purring cat. 

“He’s… alright.” 

You were slightly taken aback by the response and looked up to him, but much to your disappointment, his expression still looked the same. You were about to get up and excuse yourself, but you notice a small steel bowl under his dining table, half full with what you assumed to be cat milk (I mean, it would be weird if it was his, duh!). 

“You also have a cat?”

His eyes followed yours. “Oh, that. I got it the first time Cookie came here, I figured he must be thirsty since he came in around noon time.” 

“That’s… that’s very nice of you.” You looked at him and smiled. Somehow him addressing your cat by his name sounded lovely. 

“You can have the rest of the milk if you want, since you’ve figured out how he escaped and all…” 

“It’s okay, you can keep it! Just in case he ran into you again…” You chuckled but then stopped after realizing how that just sounded like you did not mind troubling him with your cat continuously. “I mean… I’m sorry, I’ll make sure he’ll never escape again.” 

“It’s alright, I’ll keep the milk for now.” He paused for a second, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just in case.”

You looked at your neighbor and couldn’t help but to feel all warm inside. He seemed like a nice person and from the looks of it he also liked your cat. 

“Thank you so much, Yoongi. I’ll be taking this little guy here then...” You smiled at him and stood up with Cookie in your arms. 

“I got some dim sum…” 

You looked at the guy questioningly. 

“Do you maybe want some?” 

“That’d be too much, it’s okay, you go ahead and eat.” You politely declined. Although you were hungry, you could bring yourself to bother your neighbor any more than what you had done. 

“Have you eaten?” 

“Y-yeah?” You asked, afraid you heard it wrong. 

“Have you eaten?” He repeated. “If not, then I insist you take some.”

“I…” You wanted to lie, but at this point it would come off as rude if you refuse him again. “I actually haven’t. Thank you very much though, I feel so bad that you’re being this nice to me.”

“You can just eat them here.” 

“I don’t wanna disturb—“ You were awkwardly cut by the sound of your stomach rumbling. 

“You’re not disturbing me.” He cleared his throat and looked away. 

That was embarrassing. 

And that was how you ended up sitting down on your neighbor’s dining table, eating dim sums. 

In silence. 

This Yoongi guy really did not like conversation it seemed. He was sitting down on his couch and had turned the TV on. The volume was on but not quite loudly, and Cookie was on his lap, sleeping as he occasionally stroked the cat’s head softly. Funny that somehow you could see some resemblance of Yoongi with your cat.

“So… how long have you lived here?” You bit your bottom lip as you waited for his answer. You kind of regretted asking as soon as the words came out from your mouth, afraid it would be awkward. 

“Around ten months or so.” He paused. “No, I think it’s been almost a year cause I spent two months overseas.”

“Really? What were you doing overseas?” You regretted asking again. Looking at how quiet Yoongi was, you didn’t want to ask too much or indulge into too much conversation, afraid it would be too much for him. 

But much to your surprise, he answered. “I’m a producer. I was working for this artist and all the work had to be done in America.” 

“Wow, that sounds amazing!” You said. At this point you no longer were sitting facing the table, but to him. “Who was the artist?”

“Uh… Halsey.” He replied while looking at the TV screen, seemingly to avoid your stare.

“Oh my god???” You gasped. “That’s incredible! So you’re like crazy talented?!”

“I’m alright…” 

“You should show me some of your work someday!” You said enthusiastically. When Yoongi did not reply to it and stayed silent, you cursed yourself internally. “I mean compared to what I do that’s like really amazing.” You chuckled nervously. 

“I’m sure you’re great at what you do.” He looked at you, a small smile was on his lips. 

You realized it was the first time you saw him smile and it made your heart raced rather faster than usual. It was the first time you saw him with facial expression other than his usual poker face. 

“I’m just a normal product designer at a very normal company.” You shrugged. 

“Don’t downplay yourself like that. You work very hard.” 

“Thanks…” You replied shyly. 

After finishing your food, you got up and went to wash the dishes, which immediately got stopped by the homeowner. He politely told you to go back home and rest. Which again, you could not thank him more for. 

You took your pet in your arms and said your goodbyes to your neighbor. Right when you arrived back in your place you came to realize something. Yoongi did not eat with you and there was only one portion of the food. While it could just meant he had already eaten beforehand, you felt giddy, thinking about another possibility. Was this a crush you sense forming? Frankly speaking, you could not care less. You were welcoming the possibility with open arms.

— 

Friday finally came and you were ready to take it in. The days of working with your company project was going to an end, which meant you no longer need to work overtime after this. The thought of it put you in a very good mood. 

This time right after arriving home, you walked to a nearby chicken restaurant and grab some not only for you, but also for your neighbor. You wanted to repay his kindness the past few days. After changing into some comfortable clothes, not to mention the multiple times you had to re-check the outfit in the mirror for some reason, you took your cat in your left hand and the food in the other. You knocked on your neighbor’s door hoping he was home. 

And he was. You were greeted with his silence but he opened the door wider as soon as he saw your face without question. One thing that caught your eyes though was how he was dressed up like he was ready for a night out. He wasn’t in his usual sweatpants and baggy t-shirt, but instead in a ripped wide legged jeans and a light blue shirt, unbuttoned, with a plain white tee underneath. He looked handsome. And here you were, in your so-called comfy outfit that you were starting to regret.

“Before you ask, no, Cookie’s right here.” You smiled awkwardly as you raised the small cat in your hand for him to see. “I’m just here to drop by some chicken I got for you… as a thanks for your help these past few days.” You handed the plastic of food to him. “Alright, that’s all…”

He took the food from you hesitantly. “You don’t wanna come in?” 

“Aren’t you going out or something?”

“I was… but you are here.” He said, sounding unsure. 

“That’s ridiculous, why would I stop you from going out?”

“I was gonna go to your place…” 

Your mouth formed a small O shape, unable to form a word. He was going to your place? But what for??? The butterflies in your stomach were having a blast. 

“But you’re all dressed up…”

“I was gonna change back.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair, which made you gulped at the sight. “I knew this was a bad idea I shouldn't have listened to Hoseok—”

You stopped his rambling. “What do you mean?”

“I was gonna ask you if you wanted to go eat together at that one Chicken restaurant nearby…”

“Oh.” You widened your eyes.

“Yeah.” He looked at you, biting his cheek in annoyance. 

“This is awkward.” You chuckled. 

“Whatever, just… just come in first.”

You saw Yoongi putting the plastic of food on his table. You offered help after putting down your cat on his couch and walked to his direction. Both of you plated the food in comfortable silence, it felt oddly domestic and you liked it. At this point you were used to him being not talkative and see it as his charm. 

After you took the plates to the living room, Yoongi suddenly came back with cans of beers and soju in his hands. 

“We’re drinking?” You said with an amused grin. 

“You can drink, right?” 

“Sure, but can you?” You playfully eyed him. 

“Don’t challenge me.” 

You could see how he was trying to hide his smile, and it brought colors to your cheeks. 

—

You did not know how you got in this situation. Five episodes in randomly rewatching Avatar The Last Airbender and you both were drunk. You were resting your head on his shoulder as you watch the screen. It seemed like the booze gave you confidence, or made you shameless, or both, but the guy didn’t complain so it could be a sign of a good thing. While you could see Yoongi holding his alcohol better than you, he was not completely sober either. 

It was at this very moment where you saw things through a pink tinted lense. Had Yoongi’s hair always looked that soft? Had he always looked this handsome? You began to question things you should not be questioning.

“Why didn’t you change your clothes?” You randomly asked. 

“Do I look bad?” He replied, eyes still on the screen, hands stroking the sleeping cat on his lap. 

"Of course not, I just feel severely underdressed now..." You chuckled.

He eyed you from top to bottom, which made you nervous, but he shrugged, seemingly to not have any problem with your clothes.

“You look… handsome.”

“You think I look handsome?” He suddenly moved to face you, making you move to look at him as well. The tone of his voice sounded like he was teasing more than asking a question.

You nodded and bit your lips. “And you kinda look like Cookie.” You giggled. 

He raised one of his eyebrows, clearly not satisfied with your answer. 

“Your eyes…” You began to ramble. “They look just like Cookie’s, and when you look annoyed, or just your plain expression… you look like a cute cat.” 

“Really…” Yoongi hummed. 

“Yup!” You giggled like an idiot. 

You failed to notice how at this point, Yoongi has put Cookie down from his lap to the floor. His face only inches away from you as you kept rambling. 

“Your hair look so soft… like a cat’s fur.” You reached your hands closer to his hair, but stopped mid-way, scared he’d get uncomfortable. 

Yoongi surprised you again by grabbing both of your wrist and putting your hands on his hair, letting you stroke his head slowly. You saw his expression softened and as you kept playing with his hair, he closed his eyes. You swore you heard him purr. 

“Pretty.” You said with a drunk smile. 

“Hmm. Pretty.” He mirrored. 

“Okay, call me crazy but why do I kinda wanna kiss you right now.” You said, totally losing the battle with your common sense. 

Yoongi chuckled. “You’re crazy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking to the right. “I like it.” 

—

To be frank, you could not recall what happened after. You recalled some bits of karakoe-ing? Singing random PSY songs in your broken Korean using a bottle of whiskey as your mic. That was probably all? You couldn’t think while the throbbing headache was present in the room with you.

So why were you now in a bed that was not yours, wearing a t-shirt that was too big for you and was clearly not yours, also for heaven’s sake, WHY IS YOONGI SLEEPING NEXT TO ME??? 

You froze. Did you??? There was no way. Sure you found him attractive and all, and you definitely had this huge crush on him, but you couldn’t just sleep with a guy you barely knew. Besides your headache, your body didn’t feel any pain, so that was probably a good sign. What if he was just that gentle? Okay, you need to stop thinking at once before you started a whole fiction about you and Yoongi in your head.

When you turned your back, you felt the other side of the bed shifted as well. 

“You’re up?” He asked with a raspy voice. 

“Yeah.” You said, still back-facing him. “We didn’t… you know…”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Oh, okay good.”

Yoongi did not answered to that, but instead you felt him scooting closer. 

“I’m sorry, this isn’t probably how you’d wanna spend your weekend.” You chuckled. 

Your breath hitched when you felt a hand over your waist. “Is this okay?” He suddenly stopped when your body tensed at his touch. 

You nodded, heart beating too loudly for you to form any sentence. 

“This is nice.” He said, resting his forehead on your back. 

When you stayed silent, he took your hand and turned you over to face him. Heat immediately took over your body as soon as your eyes meet. You noticed he was back in his usual home attire, oversized tee and sweatpants. His hair was messy, but it seemed like universe had its favorite cause he still looked good. 

“You know, I haven’t had good sleep in… weeks.”

You were surprised by his sudden confession.

“It’s half past eleven now, and it’s not even ten minutes after I woke up…” He tittered. “My anxiety has been getting worse the past month and out of nowhere a black cat suddenly jumped to my balcony, meowing non-stop while I was working.”

You looked at him, letting him finish his talk. This was the most words you had ever heard coming out of Yoongi’s mouth and it made your heart flutter. 

“I haven’t been caring. I’ve stopped caring, for a while now. Seeing you care so much for such a small creature… I don’t know, it feels good. It makes me wanna care.”

“Yoongi…” You cooed, caressing his cheek. "It's not true, all you have been since I first met you until this moment, was caring."

"I'm sorry if it feels like it came out of nowhere but I feel at home with you and I don’t know why...” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yet, at least.”

“I… like this too. A lot actually.” You said shyly. 

“I would like to get to know you more if you’d like.” He was being honest and exactly to the point, no flirty bullshit to spice his sentences.

“I’d love that...” 

Suddenly you heard a low meow from under the bed and Cookie jumped into the bed, joining you two. Apparently his bedroom door was left opened and none of you noticed how Cookie had entered. You giggled and he smiled as well, the widest smile and the most genuine you had ever seen from him, as he took the cat and cuddled both of you close.

"I think it's about time you give me your number..." You squinted at him playfully. "You know, so we don't repeat the whole chicken restaurant accident again?"

“Okay, but promise me first you won’t apologize again after kissing me.” He chuckled. 

“EXCUSE ME WHAT???”

— 

“Okay, call me crazy but why do I kinda wanna kiss you right now.” You said, totally losing the battle with your common sense. 

Yoongi laughed. “You’re crazy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking to the right. “I like it.” 

“I can be crazier if you open that whiskey.” You wiggled your eyebrows.

Yoongi just shook his head, smiling at your silliness. He stood up and went to grab his Hibiki anyway, which earned a shout of celebration from you. 

Things escalated quickly after opening the bottle. Somehow you were starting a drunk karaoke session which followed by many dance breaks. You ended up crying when a sad song randomly came up in the playlist and when Yoongi asked why, you replied. You replied with your lips on his.

In your head it just made sense. It was his lips’ fault for looking so juicy. Yeah, totally his fault for looking so hot that it was driving you insane.

None of you moved and it only lasted seconds before your mood turned sour again. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean…” You pushed him gently. “Oh my god, you’re so gonna hate me!!!”

“Hey, calm down…“ 

You started to panic, tears now forming in your eyes again. “Please don’t hate me, I just wanted to kiss you…” You cried. 

“Okay, I think that’s enough drinking—“

And you puked. 

Yes, Yoongi did see your lilac colored bra when he helped you change into his t-shirt. But that’s a secret between him and little Cookie. 

Thank you for reading! 💎

part 2 is here!

[knavesflames]

Hello, I hope your day goes well as you're reading this!

If your request is still open, can I request touch deprived! Arlecchino and Touch deprived! Reader? Like reader is very clingy and affectionate to her closest friends because she's been deprived of physical affection since she was younger, and Arlecchino who's also touch deprived but unlike reader who has no problem with physical affection, she finds it hard to do it, but when she meets reader who's hugs are so comfortable she's grown addicted to it and craves her gentle touches more and more, thank you! Have a great day or night!

(I realise I’m apologising on every post for the late ones, but I’m almost caught up to a reasonable delay) hi anon!! I feel this hard, I am so affectionate because I was touch starved as a child. Though, I focused this writing piece more on Arlecchino. I love exploring her and her being in character and slightly OOC too. (She’s my comfort character, can you guys tell?) thank you for the ask!

Word count: 1k

Content: fluff, Arlecchino is touched starved, she loves you

Nsft utc!

Arlecchino and you have come from completely different backgrounds (that are unfortunately all too similar as well). You worked well together even so, your routines matching each other, the same sense of humour. By that, I mean, you joked, her lips barely turned up, and she hummed in response (which is equivalent to your wheezing on the sofa over.. a silly cat?). The point is, you worked. You both made sense together. Except one, tiny little detail.

You loved physical touch, and she despised it. Once you discovered how it felt, you were obsessed. You loved the way your body was enveloped by arms that seemed like they’d block out the whole world for you.

Arlecchino hated physical touch. She isn’t used to it, she grew up with her horrifying excuse for a Mother, and physical affection was used often as manipulation rather than anything else, she saw that much with what happened to her dear, dear friend (who haunts her dreams).

The first time Arlecchino held you was a year into your relationship. She awoke during the night to an empty bed, and when she made her way towards the living room, she saw you, in tears on the sofa. A bad dream, you had said, and nothing more. Arlecchino saw the way your body was almost aching for some sort of touch, and despite the discomfort, her arms wrapped around you. Awkward, clumsy, and a little bit forced, but she hugged you. She had not hugged someone since she was sixteen. Without a word, her thumb stroked against your arm, and she felt the way your body slumped against her body. She felt like a burning fire, you realised, most likely due to the flames running through her veins, but you welcomed it nonetheless.

She began to notice that holding you in her embrace was not as torturous as she assumed. Arlecchino held you until you fell asleep.

Her embraces were few and far between, reserved only for special moments or moments where she can see you need them. Her facial expression never changes, but over time, she becomes slightly more comfortable with every hug. She ended up craving your embraces, the way your hand gingerly caresses her cheek and your lips on her skin, the gentle squeeze on her arm when you go past her. She wanted so desperately to associate touch with you instead, someone she knows could never hurt a spider.

Eventually, she begins allowing it more and more, and even begins silently hinting when she wants one by sighing slightly louder, or grumbling a bit when things go wrong, only to feel a fuzzy warmth inside when you smile at her and give a gentle touch. Both you and Arlecchino wonder if she will one day make the first move.

Arlecchino does not know why she dislikes physical affection so much. She enjoys buying gifts she knows you will cherish and love instead, doing things at a distance. This was never supposed to be anything more than a fling, she didn’t want investment, she didn’t want any affection to be returned, but she fell for you, and hard. She dislikes how vulnerable she has become around you, but a part of her deep down inside of her likes it too. Arlecchino is scared you will leave, that you will ruin her one day, and she feels like it won’t happen if she doesn’t let on how hard she has fallen. (Everyone knows and says nothing.)

Perhaps she prefers affection the way she does, unrequited and with little investment, is because some part of her craves a love so great that it would tear her apart, and that frightens her. She does not know how to receive love, yet she still wants a love that will consume her entire being and burn hotter than the flames that course through her veins with every beat of her slowly-thawing heart. You are thawing her, she knows that much.

The weather chills the way her touch grows warmer, and winter comes quickly. The winter in Snezhnaya was cold and biting, and despite her accommodating her home for you (she clearly does not need it) by lighting the fireplace and leaving you blankets, the cold still finds its way into your bones, leaving you shivering. One night, when it is the coldest night of the year, you find yourself unable to sleep at all. You lay awake in the dark, thinking about your past the way you always do at night, shivering so hard you’re practically vibrating.

At some point, you hear her stirring, and you try to quiet yourself, to make sure she can continue sleeping. She noticed the second she opened her eyes, though. Doesn’t she always? She is glad you are pretending to sleep so you do not see the hesitation in her eyes before she snaps herself out of it and does what you both want her to. Wordlessly, she shuffles a few inches closer and her arm wraps around your midsection, dragging you closer until her body is wrapped around yours. Arlecchino, being the attentive person she is, notices your smile and sigh of relief and the way your shivering stops. She notices the way you nestle further in once you know she’s okay with it, and she notices when your breath falls into a deep rhythm.

It is her turn to stare at the wall, her heart beating faster than usual, the only giveaway of any of her feelings. Slowly, her arms snake around you until she’s holding you so tight you can’t move even if you wanted to. Her breath is visible when she exhales, when she lets her body finally relax in the company of another. Arlecchino buries her face into your hair, smelling your shampoo. The smell makes her drowsy, she tells herself (it is not the smell, it is that after so many years, her walls have crumbled completely), and she finds her eyes drooping until she, too, falls into the throes of sleep.

Arlecchino sleeps the best she ever has. Arlecchino has her first night of no nightmares since she became the poor, mad, cursed knave. Arlecchino does not feel so cursed when you are beside her.

[ja3yun]

Royal Sacrifice | S.JY | pt.2

prince!jake x maid!fem reader warnings: tiny bit of fluff, angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, nipple play, whiney jake, my attempt to write posh-ish (again), longing, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 12.5k synopsis: with prince jaeyun set to marry another woman, revelations of the true plans behind the marriage come to light which leave you struck with conflicting emotions and lead to an outcome you could never have anticipated. part one a/n: hi! it is me once again. this was heavily requested to have a part 2 so i am being ever so kind and giving it to you all! i held a poll to see if you guys wanted a long chapter or shorter and long won so ofc its 12k (sigh) anyway, please enjoy it! this was really fun to write even though it's not my usual style, i hope this ending serves you better than part one did hehe.

3 months. It has been 3 months since you last saw the prince, the love of your life. Ever since the king made his speech declaring the marriage of Prince Jaeyun and Princess Mia, your heart has not stopped shedding pieces of itself. With each part that breaks away, you hope they reach him somehow.

Currently, he is in Lethamhill, fulfilling a tour of the Kingdom that will best help him serve the country once the merger is to happen. You haven’t ventured past the walls of Glengyre, so as you imagine him exploring and getting to know the people, being his charming self, you can only imagine the backdrop to be similar to your home, hopefully with a little more prosperity. 

It has been hard to focus on your duties while your brain is occupied with a forbidden love, a love that can never be. Of course, you told him to do this, practically pushing him into the new role of a husband to a woman who is not you, yet, you don’t find any comfort in knowing you both did the right thing. 

He was willing to fight in the front line, to disregard any idea of marrying another, all for the sake of you and your love. It is a love that comes once in a lifetime and it is a love that has the power to destroy worlds. You could not sit back and in your right mind watch the Prince throw away his people for you, it’s unethical and illogical, thus, you had no choice but to push him away.

But you still loved him all the same, that fire of affection will always burn for him.

Despite your longing, his absence has made it somewhat easier to grasp the idea that you can no longer hold him or feel his warmth through your veins. Being in the same room as him will only hurt you more.

He has to come back at some point, and that point is any day now.

Princess Mia must also do her rounds throughout Glengyre if she is to be a Princess of this kingdom as well as her own. You aren’t one to gossip but the chatter around the servant's quarters is that she is spoiled and entitled, everything Jaeyun despises. There might not be any truth to it, senseless rumours about her attitude could easily be spread in response to some jealous people looking for an excuse to hate her all because Jaeyun is off limits now. 

It didn’t matter, true or not, they were to be wed in a matter of months regardless of personal feelings. 

As you dust off the ornaments lined up neatly on the mantlepiece in the hallway, you hear the main entrance doors open, a commotion following. You peer around the corner to catch a glimpse, curious as to who graces the castle at this early hour. 

Then you see Princess Mia with her arm hooked onto Jaeyun, smiling up at him with doe eyes.

That was another truth you did not want to face once he returned; that he could, in fact, have fallen in love with her.

“My boy! How was your trip?” The king’s ambitious voice echoes through the entire castle.

Jaeyun smiles gracefully, bowing as he approaches his father, “It went well, Your Majesty,” he says at a far lesser decibel than his father.

Princess Mia looks at Jaeyun like he is the only man in the world which only serves to make your stomach twist. It is so obvious this would happen, Jaeyun is so easy to fall in love with, anyone would be foolish to spend more than a few hours with him and fail to be enamoured by him. 

You almost knock over the clock you are pretending to dust as your eyes stay glued to the scene before you. Your brain is trying to determine Jaeyun’s feelings towards his fiance, are the feelings of adoration mutual or does he still see this as a contractual marriage? 

Does he still love you?

"Y/N, back to work, please. We do not eavesdrop on the Royals," Miss Son chides in a hushed tone, jolting you back to attention.

You bow apologetically, hastening your dusting with a newfound fervour, cheeks burning with embarrassment under Miss Son's pointed gaze. She says no more, retreating to attend to her own duties and leaving you to yours.

As you resume your task, the distant murmur of voices from the royals serves as a constant reminder of his presence despite the fact he is no longer in your line of sight. Jaeyun’s voice threads through the air like a siren’s song, beckoning you to his side once more.

But you cannot answer.

_____

As you diligently scrub the remnants of the Royal's lunch from the plates, the imposing figure of the Chamberlain disrupts the tranquillity of the kitchen, her presence commanding attention as she raps sharply on the wooden table.

“Y/N?” she asks quizzically as she does not know who the name would belong to. 

It’s tiny situations like this that make you miss Jaeyun even more. The Crown Prince's effortless familiarity with over a hundred staff members stands in stark contrast, a testament to his respect and appreciation for every individual, regardless of their status.

Turning to face the Chamberlain, you offer a respectful bow, "Yes, Ma'am?"

"Ah, excellent. Please cease your current tasks and accompany me. Your presence has been requested," she instructs, her tone brooking no argument.

Your heart skips a beat, thoughts racing as you wonder what could possibly warrant such a summons. Swallowing your apprehension, you quickly set aside the plates and follow the Chamberlain, your footsteps echoing faintly in the corridor as you trail behind her.

The corridors of the castle seem to stretch endlessly, each step accompanied by a mounting sense of anticipation. You steal a glance at the Chamberlain's stoic profile, but her expression reveals nothing, leaving you to speculate about why you have been called.

Maybe the King and Queen finally discovered your clandestine relationship with the Prince, perhaps this is the moment all of your past rendezvous catch up to you. What would this mean? Would they behead you, exile you from the very kingdom you call home, or was it something much more sinister?

Finally, you arrive at a grand door, adorned with intricate carvings and gilded accents. The Chamberlain pauses, turning to regard you with a stern gaze, "Remember your place," she warns, before pushing open the door and ushering you inside.

As you walk into the large dining hall, you see an abundance of eyes on you. The entire Royal family, along with their trusted valets have their attention on you.

You scour the table for Jaeyun, whose eyes glisten with longing and disbelief. He cannot believe you are standing in front of him once again, albeit in different circumstances than he would like. 

To him, you look as pretty as the day he was escorted away to Lethamhill, but he can sense that you haven’t been well; your tired eyes and slumped body are a testament. He could only wish to ease the pain from your body just as his soft hands used to do.

“Miss Y/N, is it?” the Queen inquires, eyeing you up and down.

With a nod, you avoid direct eye contact, “Yes, Your Majesty. Y/N L/N,” your hands tremble slightly as you speak, seeking stability by clutching your skirt, attempting to rid the clamminess that has settled upon them.

The King rises from his seat, intrigued by your surname and background, “L/N… Is that the same L/N who oversees the mill near the Dochart River?” he probes.

Regrettably, you must correct him, “No, Your Majesty. My father toils in the mines, and my mother gathers berries,” a tinge of shame colours your words as you recount your family's humble occupations.

Both your parents worked tirelessly to provide for your family, yet their efforts often fell short. When they left you with your siblings, it wasn't out of neglect but out of necessity, seeking better opportunities in other regions where wealth flowed more readily - a circumstance not dissimilar to yours right now.

The room falls into a weighted silence, the King's brows knit together in thought. “Ah, I see,” he murmurs, clearly disinterested in you now.

You brace yourself for judgment, but to your surprise, Princess Mia speaks up, a soft smile on her face,  “Hardworking stock, it is admirable,” she remarks with no hint of sarcasm, her tone warm.

A glimmer of pride graces your features at her acknowledgement, a brief respite from the anxiety flickering around your insides. You still don’t know why you are here, so you cannot let your guard down so easily.

"Miss L/N, may I introduce Princess Mia of Lethamhill. I trust you are familiar with her impending union with the Prince?" the Queen's gaze steers you towards the Princess, who maintains a gracious smile.

"Yes, Your Majesty. It is indeed an honour to be in your presence," you reply with a respectful curtsy, offering a warm smile in return.

She makes her way to you, holding out her hands to offer to you. Your eyes scan the table to see the look of shock on everyone’s faces, taken aback by her forwardness to a mere peasant, “It is my honour to meet you, Y/N,” her face exudes a kindness you see similarly in Jaeyun.

It breaks your heart.

They are clearly well suited, their characters and status mould together in ways you and Jaeyun could never.

“Y/N, you will serve as Princess Mia’s lady-in-waiting during her stay in Glengyre,” the Queen's announcement leaves you speechless, a wave of disbelief washing over you.

Typically, when Royals of other kingdoms venture to another, it is customary that they bring their own staff, particularly their maid of honour. 

Princess Mia's unexpected warmth catches you off guard as she expresses her hope for a harmonious relationship, “Pince Jaeyun spoke highly of you, Y/N. I look forward to our time together," she says, grasping your hands with genuine affection.

Confusion and resentment swirl within you. Was this Jaeyun's way of taunting you? To rub it in that you are no longer his?

Despite your inner thoughta, you maintain your composure and offer a gracious smile in return. "Thank you, Princess Mia. I am at your service," you respond, masking your apprehension with a polite demeanour.

As you glance around the room, you catch Jaeyun's eye for a brief moment, his expression one of mischief, “Thank you, Y/N. You know all the ins and outs of this castle,” he smirks, eluding to your secret nightly meetings in whatever nook and cranny you could find to be with him.

With a mixture of confusion and trepidation, you acknowledge his words with a subtle nod, unsure of what his intentions are at this moment. Despite the lingering doubts and uncertainties, you steel yourself to fulfil your duties to the best of your abilities.

“I appreciate the opportunity, Your Highness,” you say to Jaeyun, hoping he can read your confused features. Luckily after months of only being able to communicate through your expressions, he shakes his head, understanding your worries but dismissing them.

He just wants to keep you close, and if serving his future wife is the only way to do that, then so be it.

_____

The following morning marks the beginning of your role as a lady-in-waiting, a position typically earned after years of loyal service—a fact not lost on the resentful gazes of your fellow servants at the dining table. Even your chamber companions shun you, refusing to share the bunk, a clear display of their disdain. Although Princess Mia kindly offers you a separate bed closer to her quarters, accepting would only stoke the flames of their animosity.

As you walk the hallways adorned in your new uniform, a sense of pride swells within you. The sea blue cotton dress may lack the opulence of the Chamberlain's or any other higher ranking servant’s attire, but its significance is not lost on you. It represents a step up from your previous maid garments, a symbol of newfound status and responsibility.

The guards at the door inspect you and your new look, both smiling widely before stepping out of the way to give you a pathway to the Princess’ door. 

Tipping your head courteously, you knock on the grand oak doors, awaiting approval to enter. However, when it does not come, you open them slightly, examining the room to find your lady. A lump is formed under the covers of the bed, meaning she could only be in one place.

You gently shut the double doors behind you before carefully gliding over to the window to open the curtains.

Back home, your brothers had a tendency to do as the Princess is doing just now - hiding to avoid going about their duties. You expect it from teenage boys, not from the Princess of an entire kingdom.

“Princess Mia, you have an appointment this morning,” you say firmly, hoping she will wake up.

A muffled groan escapes beneath the layers of quilts covering her head, "Please, Y/N, I have a dreadful allergy to the sun," she jokes.

With a gentle tug, you draw back the final curtain, "My apologies, Your Highness, but I am under strict orders from the King to ensure you join them for breakfast," you explain with a warm smile.

She shifts beneath the covers before casting them aside, revealing her upper half with a resigned sigh, "I understand, Y/N. It is not your doing," she concedes, stretching as if aiming for the heavens, "But you should know, I harbour a great distaste for mornings. If I seem irritable, it’s hardly your fault."

You can't help but admire her even in her morning disarray, her features possessing an otherworldly allure. Though the kingdom boasts many beauties, encountering someone of her stature feels like a rare privilege.

Blinking away the remnants of sleep, she finally meets your gaze with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Shall we, Y/N?" she says, gracefully swinging her legs off the bed and rising to her feet with a fluid motion that speaks of innate poise.

“Would you like me to assist you with your bath or would you prefer some privacy?” you query, making her bed as she glances out the window.

Princess Mia is like any one of your friends back home, an ease of friendliness passes between you the more you speak. There's a pang of wishful thinking, a part of you hoped she'd embody the snobbishness rumoured about her, offering an easy target for animosity towards her relationship with your former love. But she is far removed from her rumours.

“Neither,” she begins to pull you away from your task of making the bed and pushes you towards the bathroom, “Perhaps I could use the company more than anything.”

Turning the taps to fill her bath, you steal another glance at her as she strips off her nightgown, marvelling at her delicate features: the velvety smoothness of her skin, the graceful curves that seem sculpted by an artist's hand, and the perkiness of her ass, reminiscent of a ripe peach. 

In contrast, your own reflection reveals a different story - dry skin marked by scars from old scabies, a dullness that overshadows any hint of radiance, and a figure that pales in comparison, lacking the perfection of hers.

You would be foolish to think for a second you could compete with her for Jaeyun’s love.

As she steps into the running bath, you prepare the soap, handing it to her which she accepts with a smile. 

“How long have you worked for the Glengyre royal family?” she asks, lathering up the soap and washing it over her body.

"Just under a year, Your Highness," you respond, realising in this moment that you have been here for much longer than desired. Being away from your brothers for this long was never part of the plan, and the ache to see them again gnaws at your heart, the letters exchanged barely enough to quell your longing.

Princess Mia lounges in the bath, leaning her chin on the edge as she speaks with you, “Tell me honestly, from a peasant perspective, are they good people?” 

The question is a hefty one, one that you are not prepared for. It is no secret that you have a distaste for the King and Queen, however, your judgement upon them can only lead to your travesty, so you ponder how to navigate the question while still maintaining some honesty.

“Well, the King and Queen try their best,” you begin, eyes pointed downward, “And the Prince…”

How would one describe Prince Jaeyun? Loyal, honest, kindhearted, fearless, a true King. But how do you say it while hiding your feelings for him? Your brain wants to tell the Princess how Jaeyun kisses with such desire and passion, and his whispers of affection and adoration serve you to believe he is straight from one of Shakespeare's sonnets. He was much more than a noble Crown Prince, he was the love of your life, and you wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

She pokes you gently with a finger, drawing you back from your reverie, "Y/N?"

"Oh, my apologies," you offer a strained smile, hoping she didn’t catch on to your longing gaze, "Prince Jaeyun is undoubtedly a man of great virtue and integrity, worthy to ascend the throne and lead his people," you reply, striving for a diplomatic tone that hides the depth of your affection for him.

"And how will he be as a husband?"

You fluster, your brain now inappropriately recalling his touches and lingering lips while his bride-to-be is a mere foot away, “I couldn’t possibly comment on that, Your Highness,” you deflect, inwardly cursing your traitorous thoughts.

“But from your perception, someone of your lower class has no reason to lie to me regarding your Prince, I would value your honesty,” she insists, playing with the water that envelopes her.

Sighing, you yield, “He will make a fantastic husband. His loyalty to those he loves knows no bounds,” you concede, swallowing the bitter pill of truth as you reluctantly paint a portrait of Jaeyun as a desirable suitor, knowing it may only serve to bring them closer together.

The Princess slips lower into the bathtub, leaving just her head above the water, "He does not love me, though," she acknowledges, her voice heavy with sorrow as if she were voicing the truth for the first time, "He made it clear that his heart belongs elsewhere, that he could never give it to me."

You feel a surge of tension at her words, a glimmer of hope blossoming in your heart at Jaeyun's implied feelings. It's a bittersweet realisation, knowing that he still holds love for you as deeply as you do for him, yet, not one of you can do anything about it.

Standing from the stool beside the bathtub, you pick up a towel and hold it out for the Princess to take, but she does not move, instead, she continues her questioning, “Who does he love, Y/N?”

The sickness that sits in your stomach bubbles to your throat, word vomit willing you on to scream at her that it is you he belongs to, that his heart is yours and yours is his. But you dare not utter such a confession.

“He loves his people, Your Highness, they are who have his heart,” you stand strong, pushing the towel further in her face, using it as a barricade so she cannot witness your wet eyes.

Princess Mia removes herself from the tub, idly lost in her thoughts, “We have that in common,” her tone airy as she remembers her people back home.

She is a good person, her thoughtfulness and kindness showcase this, and you know she will make a fantastic addition to Jaeyun’s faction. With her as his wife, they will do great things for Glengyre.

_____

As the first rays of dawn break through the stained glass windows of the castle, you find yourself standing alongside Princess Mia at the grand breakfast table, the delicate clinking of silverware and murmured conversations filling the air. Your gaze couldn't help but flicker nervously toward the entrance, anticipation mounting with each passing moment as you awaited Jaeyun's arrival.

It is hard to be so close yet so out of reach to someone you used to be tangled with.

Prince Jaeyun and his trusted valet, Heeseung, make their grand entrance into the opulent dining hall, instantly commanding the attention of all present. His piercing gaze sweeps across the room, briefly meeting Princess Mia's eyes before seeking out your own.

You have lined yourself up with the other maids, a habit from your past role. Heeseung approaches you with a warm smile, his voice carrying a hint of understanding as he addresses you, "Miss Y/N, valets typically stand to the left," he gently reminds you, gesturing for you to join him. Grateful for Heeseung's kindness and guidance, you offer him a respectful bow before obediently following his lead.

As you traverse the room, keeping your head low in deference, you feel a soft touch against your hand, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was, the touch sending sparks to your heart. 

Jaeyun is playing with fire, he knows it’s risky to even gaze upon you too long, yet his heart yearns for you and your touch, causing him to act irrationally. Your heart is a magnet and it is drawing him in the closer you are to him.

In a brief moment of recklessness, Jaeyun slips a folded piece of paper into your palm before releasing his grip, the covert exchange going unnoticed by everyone save the two of you. Quickly you tuck the piece of paper up your sleeve and stand in your designated space.

As the Royals take their seats, anticipation pervades the air, with the tantalising smells of the lavish meal enticing even the most controlled appetites.

“How fares the Princess this morning?” Heeseung inquires softly, a faint smile gracing his lips as he casts his gaze ahead.

“Quite well. And what of the Prince?” you respond, hoping for a glimpse into your former lover’s wellbeing.

Heeseung's sigh is filled with gravity, his words hint at a heavy burden borne by the Prince, "Disheartened, I'm afraid," he says quietly.

The confession elicits a sharp intake of breath from you, brows knit together in confusion as you silently implore Heeseung to elaborate. "I believe it's due to the wedding being expedited to this Friday," he declares, his words sinking in with unexpected weight.

“What?!” your exclamation escapes your lips before you can temper it, a mix of shock and disbelief colouring your tone, reverberating through the room with an unintended volume.

Jaeyun, catching wind of your distressed reaction, turns his gaze towards you, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. Sensing his eyes upon you, you quickly avert your gaze, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

You know you cannot be with him but you presumed you had more time to become accustomed to Princess Mia around the castle and before you lose him forever, “Isn’t the Princess required to occupy Glengyre for at least 3 months? Isn’t it customary for her to know our land and the people before she takes such a vow?” you question. 

“Apparently, she does not need 3 months. The arrangement has altered slightly,” he looks down at you. 

“How can that be?” You don’t mean to bombard the valet with your senseless questioning, but nothing makes sense to you, “How will she know what is best for this kingdom if she does not actively know it? How will she best know how to take the role of Princess of Glengyre?”

Heeseung breathes out, “She won’t be, Prince Jaeyun is to be crowned King Consort of Lethamhill once they marry and fulfil his duties there,” his tone is filled with sorrow. 

You're taken aback by Heeseung's revelation, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place, "But if Jaeyun becomes the King Consort of Lethamhill, what about Glengyre?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to speak the words aloud, “Who will take the place of the King once he passes?”

“It is blasphemy to speak about the King’s death so frivolously!” Heeseung exclaims in a hushed tone, his jaw clenched. Heeseung was a royal guard before he was Jaeyun’s man-in-waiting, the blood of the royal navy still runs rampant through his veins, his honour to the king noble even if slightly blinded.

You offer an apology, bowing your head and feigning shame, “Sorry, I shall never utter the words so haphazardly again.”

He nods, stature returning to his elegant stance, "It's a complicated matter," Heeseung replies, his tone laced with sympathy, "The merger between the kingdoms is more than it seems. Lethamhill is in dire need of assistance after the turmoil caused by the war. The arrangement serves to benefit both kingdoms but it is Glengyre who is set to prosper.”  

You are not understanding Heeseung’s words, which only causes hindrance in this conversation, “Excuse my ignorance, but I do not understand.”

“Lethamhill is on the brink of destruction, the King believes if Prince Jaeyun were to be crowned King Consort, he would be able to fully take Lethamhill for himself. King James and Queen Elizabeth will resign their titles for their daughter as part of the deal, leaving our Crown Prince in charge with only the need of convincing Princess Mia to follow his plans.”

You whip your head to face Heeseung, “So Lethamhill is to be no more? What of its people?” your heart races at the thought of thousands of innocent lives tangled in this game of political power.

“They are not the King and Prince’s concern, they serve Glengyre and Glegyre alone,” he says quietly.

There is a weight in your chest akin to an anchor, bringing your remaining hope and happiness for this merger down into the pits of your stomach. The merger is a visage, a guise for your King to be completely in control. 

This was never about peace, this was always going to be about power.

“And does Prince Jaeyun know about this?” you ask astonished. Surely, if Jaeyun knew of the inner workings of his father, he would put a stop to it all. Although Jaeyun lives to serve his people, he would never sacrifice others to replenish Glengyre, it’s the reason he has always voted against war.

Heeseung's gaze remains firm, "Of course he does," he replies sternly, "You think the Prince would be kept in the dark about something like this?"

As Heeseung's words sink in, a wave of realisation washes over you, accompanied by a sense of betrayal. You can only hope Jaeyun has a bigger plan, one that can save both kingdoms from perishing.

______

As night descends upon the castle, you navigate the dimly lit corridors with determined steps, your mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Jaeyun's cryptic note had beckoned you to the Council c

Chambers under the cover of darkness, although, you were conflicted with the idea knowing his plans now to infiltrate Lethamhill from within.

However, this served as your chance to speak directly to Jaeyun and figure out what his true intentions are. Every atom of your being is saying he cannot be so foolish as to destroy a country just in the hopes of building up his own, but you still approach the meeting with a wary heart.

With a heavy push, you open the door and the memories of your final night together flood your mind. But you refuse to be swayed by the urge within your body and heart; you must find out what is truly going on.

The room is cloaked in shadows, save for the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the windows. As you step inside, the air seems charged with tension, every creak of the floorboards echoing in the silence.

Jaeyun is leaning against the very desk he made love to you on countless times, the very desk you promised your undying love to him. His head whips up as he hears you enter the Council Chamber, his body lit by the moon and nothing more, yet, you can see the twinkle in his eyes as if it is a bright summer’s morning.

He stands as you edge closer to him, "It's been too long since I was graced with such beauty in my lone presence," he remarks, his voice soft and warm. His hand moves instinctively to find your hips, but you step back, the tension in the air palpable.

"Tell me it isn’t true," you implore, your heart pounding in your chest as you search his eyes for reassurance, desperate for him to dispel the troubling rumours that have plagued your thoughts.

Jaeyun's brow furrows in confusion, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity, "Tell me what isn't, my love?" he responds, his voice laced with genuine confusion.

"Don't call me that. You have no right anymore," you respond sharply, your voice tinged with bitterness. The pain of betrayal simmers just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment.

"You'll always be my love, Y/N," Jaeyun insists, his tone pleading as he reaches out to you, but you hold yourself stiffly, refusing to be swayed by his familiar touch.

"But you're not mine, not if what I heard is true," you retort, your voice trembling with a mixture of hurt and anger. 

Jaeyun's expression softens, "What did you hear?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid of the answer.

In Jaeyun’s eyes, he has done nothing wrong. He has kept Princess Mia at a respectable length at all times, never shared the same bed, and made it abundantly clear that this marriage will harbour no love as he already gave his heart to someone else - to you.

Which could only mean you know one thing.

You feel a surge of frustration welling up inside you, threatening to implode as you confront Jaeyun with the truth.

"That you are to marry Princess Mia for the sole purpose of becoming king and take complete control of Lethamhill," you reveal, your voice trembling as you lay bare the painful reality of the situation, “Please, Jaeyun, tell me this isn’t true. Tell me otherwise.”

You feel the weight of each word as it leaves your lips. The dim light from the moon casts long shadows across the room, adding to the solemn atmosphere as you confront Jaeyun, the man you once thought you knew so well.

You are begging him to prove your mind wrong, to let you in on a lavish plan that bonds the countries together by outwitting his father. 

Yet he offers nothing.

For a moment, there is silence between you, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing. Your figure tightens as any hope you had for him, for this to be a lie, slowly dwindles away.

Finally, Jaeyun speaks, his voice barely above a whisper, "Y/N, please understand," he begins, his tone pleading as he searches for the right words to convey his thoughts, “It is not by choice.”

“There is always a choice, Jaeyun,” you spit back at him, head thumping with the realisation that Jaeyun does not have an ulterior motive, he is going along with the plan to destroy Lethamhill, “What was the point of agreeing to marry Princess Mia and avoiding war when you are only going to cause one anyway?” 

Jaeyun's shoulders sag under the weight of your accusation, his gaze dropping to the floor as he wrestles with his conscience, "It isn't like that," he protests weakly, his voice tinged with sorrow, "There will be no war."

“But people will be hurt and in consequence, they will die. That to me is no better than war,” you counter, your voice laced with agitation.

“Some may die but our people will be safe,” he insists, his words ringing around the room.

You seethe as he shows no willingness to relent; you sacrificed true love, your happiness, all for the better of the kingdom you call home, and yet Jaeyun sets make a fool of it. Your kingdom may flourish, but it will be covered in a sea of blood and power. Glengyre will no longer be a place you can call home if this were to be the case.

“But what of Princess Mia’s people? They will surely perish,” you argue, your heart breaking at the thought of innocent lives that will be lost in the name of power and control.

Jaeyun sighs, his expression haunted as he grapples with the weight of his decisions, "I took an oath to protect my kingdom," he murmurs, his voice barely audible above the din of your thoughts.

You step forward, jaw tightening and fists clenched, “And you will take an oath on Friday,” you remind him, your voice thick with disappointment, “To their kingdom, to be their leader and save them from their current state.”

“The King-”

“Enough! No excuses. The king does not have a final say once you are to be wed. You will be crowned King Consort of Lethamhill, you get to have the final decision as to what to do, what is best.”

Jaeyun's hand hesitates midair, trembling as if caught in a tempest of conflict. Your impassioned words strike at the very core of his being, awakening a sense of clarity amidst the fog. For the first time, he begins to see the shadow that his father's influence has cast over him, distorting his once unyielding sense of honour and integrity.

In your unwavering presence, he discovers a beacon, guiding him back to the principles he formerly valued. 

“My love-” he starts, but you interject once again.

“No. Until you return the Jaeyun I once knew, the man that I love, I am not yours,” you back away slowly, voice trembling as tears prick your eyes, “I belong to him, to my Jaeyun, not you.”

_____

Two days later, you stand outside Miss Son's office, the oak door imposing yet familiar. The flickering torches cast dancing shadows across the corridor, adding an eerie ambience to the castle's interior. Your heart pounds in your chest as you raise your hand to knock, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders. 

With the wedding tomorrow, you do not know how she will react to your request.

The door creaks open, revealing the warm glow of Miss Son's office. Stepping inside, you're enveloped by the scent of parchment and ink, a comforting aroma that reminds you of countless meetings and tasks undertaken within these walls.

"Come in," Miss Son's voice breaks through your reverie, and you enter, feeling a mixture of nerves and determination.

"Miss Son, I'm afraid I must pardon myself from my role," you state, the words coming out in a rush.

Miss Son's expression softens with concern as she listens to your explanation, “Why so suddenly? Is Princess Mia giving you a hard time?” She leans forward, her gaze unwavering as she waits for you to continue.

"No, no, she is quite lovely...I fear I haven't seen my brothers in a long time. I think it is time for me to go back and care for them," you explain, your voice faltering slightly as you try to mask the true reason behind your decision.

Miss Son's eyes narrow, a knowing glint in her gaze, "Are you sure this has nothing to do with the Crown Prince marrying the Princess?" she asks gently, her tone filled with understanding.

You swallow hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. The truth hangs heavy in the air, begging to be acknowledged.

"Whatever do you mean?" you reply, though you know she sees right through your facade.

“I mean, I am head of over one hundred servants, I know everything that happens within these castle walls,” she gestures around the room with her finger, eyebrows raised expectantly, “You and Prince Jaeyun lack discretion. Sneaking around, leaving traces of yourself which I have had to clean up, you are both useless at this secret love affair.”

Of course, she knew everything. You and Jaeyun were not exactly quiet in your passionate encounters and pieces of your uniform lay in different areas of the castle; you just thought you were both extremely lucky, but it happens that your luck is named Miss Son.

“I understand why you must leave but it will be a great shame to lose you, Miss Y/N,” she offers a smile of sympathy before gesturing you away quickly, “Now go get some rest and leave tomorrow morning. With the commotion of the wedding, you should be able to sneak out with ease.”

You bow appreciatively to her, muttering an almost silent thank you as you retreat to your bed chambers, your bones heavy with sorrow.

_____

The tranquillity of the maid's chambers envelops you as you nestle beneath your threadbare quilt, its thin fabric offering little comfort against the weight of your thoughts. With the royal wedding looming just 17 hours away, sleep eludes you as you mentally chart your journey back home.

The prospect of reuniting with your brothers brings a bittersweet relief, a respite from the tumult that swirls within the castle walls. However, when you think about your impending departure, you can't shake the lingering anguish that pulls at your heartstrings, tying you to this location despite your desire to move on.

Jaeyun.

As you ponder the situation laid before you, you wonder whether Jaeyun fully comprehends the ramifications of his decisions. Half of your heart longs to remain by his side, hoping to guide him away from the path of destruction. But you cannot be by his side, not after tomorrow.

The door to your room creaks open, the sound echoing softly in the dimly lit quarters. You lay still, pretending to be asleep, though your senses are alert to every sound and movement around you. You suspect it's one of the other maids, returning to collect some forgotten item before retiring for the night.

Miss Son has led the others to the tavern for a ‘light’ celebration ahead of the royal wedding. While it was meant to be a joyous occasion, the event only serves to heighten your anxiety. You would find little joy in the festivities, preferring the quiet solitude of your room.

As the footsteps draw closer to your bed, your pulse quickens, and you hold your breath, hoping to discourage any interaction. However, when you feel the mattress dip slightly and warm arms encircle your waist, your tension begins to ebb away.

The touch is unmistakably Jaeyun's, sending a jolt of both comfort and turmoil through your body. Despite your conflicting feelings, you find yourself relaxing into his embrace, seeking refuge in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“My love, I am sorry,” he says quietly, his lips peppering kisses to your shoulder blade, each kiss lingering longer than the last. His hands trace the outline of your figure as they etch along your waist and sides.

Jaeyun has never laid with you like this, the opportunities scarce in the secrets of the night, this moment only makes you wish you had taken more chances to hold one another close.

“Jaeyun, you cannot be here,” you state, trying to swallow your love and sorrow, but they’re far too big to choke down.

“Face me, Y/N,” he commands, his tone is not forceful but pleading. He needs you to look at him to fully see his emotions. As of right now, you think of him as a deceitful Prince, set to ruin innocent lives, and he will not stand for it, “Please.”

It is hard to face a man you love who seems to mirror only a shell of himself, yet, you turn around per his request. Perhaps it was the hierarchy that lay between you, or maybe it is just your love for him that outweighs any apprehension you have of him.

Your eyes meet and his heart stops, the tears in your eyes only exhibit how this is affecting you, “I cannot stand you being mad at me,” his lips pout as he speaks and you wish to kiss him like never before.

In your mind, if you kiss him right now it may cause a chain reaction in which he changes his mind on the matters of Lethamhill, but that is foolish thinking.

"Jaeyun, you know I cannot condone what you're doing," you reply softly, your voice laced with sadness, "This marriage, this plan - it is wrong. It goes against everything I thought you stood for."

He reaches out to gently brush a stray tear from your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine, "I know, Y/N. Believe me, I never wanted any of this," he confesses, his voice laced with regret.

You search his eyes, grappling with conflicting emotions of love, anger, and betrayal. Regardless of the hurt, you can't help but feel a flicker of hope at his words. Maybe there's still a chance to sway him, to remind him of the man you once knew - the man who would never sacrifice his principles for power.

“My Jaeyun is in there somewhere, I know he is. Why can’t he be the one to rule as King Consort and make this right?” you beg, your hands playing with the tassels of his white nightshirt.

Jaeyun’s expression is unwavering with regret and pain, “He will be, I will make sure of it.”

“But how? I cannot see him when I look at you,” you retort, lip quivering at the prospect of losing him both figuratively and physically.

“He needs you to guide him, I need you to guide me, that much was clear today,” he begins, his lips find your shoulder once again, his teeth laying claim to you. All the marks from your previous encounters have begun to fade, leaving you bare for someone else to take hold, and he refuses to let that happen.

He must fix this.

Sucking on the base of your neck, his hands grip the back of your thighs, pulling you further into his body, your legs now sandwiched between his, “Today, you made me see my ways, how it was wrong of me to honour a vow to one kingdom and not another. I need you by my side.” 

Being surrounded by his father and his men, their constant words or assurance that this is the right thing to do for Glengyre swayed him to believe it too. Then you put him in his place, allowing him to see how preposterous the plan was. 

He needs you.

Jaeyun kisses up to the side of your mouth, his eyes now looking desperately into yours, “Please do not go tomorrow.”

“How did you know?”

“Miss Son, she told me,” he confesses.

Your hands lay splayed on his chest as you contemplate whether to bring him closer, or push him away, “How am I meant to stand by idly while I lose you and know of your plans?” you query.

It is selfish of him to ask such a request, he knows this, but he will not lose hope on you so easily, “Trust me, please, just trust me. If not as Prince Jaeyun, as your Jaeyun.” 

His words echo in your mind, battling internally whether to fully put your faith in a man who not a few days ago swore destruction to people like yourself.

The room feels suffocatingly small as you grapple with your thoughts, his touch igniting a storm of conflicting feelings within you. His lips trailing along your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in their wake, only serve to cloud your thoughts further.

But amidst the haze of uncertainty, there's a glimmer of hope - a flicker of the man you once knew, buried beneath layers of duty and obligation. You can't help but cling to that hope, to the belief that somewhere within him, the true Jaeyun still exists.

His lips softly press themselves against yours, the feeling causing stray tears to slip from your eyes. You missed him and his kiss only served as evidence of his equal longing for you.

You grip onto his nightshirt and pull him to lay on top of you, the feeling of your lover in your arms is suddenly the only thing occupying your mind. All your worries and woes are now gone, washed away from your brain as his tongue slips into your mouth and his body is pressed heavily against you.

"I missed you terribly, my love," he murmurs against your lips, his words tinged with longing, "Tell me you thought of me?"

His yearning infuses his words, coaxing the last remnants of tears to escape your eyes, "Every waking moment was filled with thoughts of you," you confess, holding him tighter, seeking solace in his embrace.

Your admission blankets him with comfort, reassured by the enduring strength of your love. Initially, when you urged him to marry Princess Mia, part of him foolishly believed it was to liberate yourselves from secrecy and not just for the good of the people, that you grew tired of sneaking around the cold castle with him. Now, as he holds you close once more, your kisses igniting need, he realises the folly of that assumption.

With his right hand, he brushes aside the strap of your nightie, allowing your tit to spill slightly from its confines. The sight of your ample flesh awakens a hunger within Jaeyun, prompting him to lean in, his teeth gently grazing the curve of your breast.

His mouth leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses as he descends toward your nipple, delicately taking it into his mouth. With a mixture of tenderness and fervent desire, he nibbles and flicks the nub, his tongue swirling eagerly around it. His hands firmly grip your waist, anchoring your writhing body in place.

You're consumed by a desperate longing for him, craving his love once more, unable to wait as he teases your body.

Jaeyun knows that you both usually do not have time, opting for a quick session of raw passion before retreating to your chambers. But tonight is different. Tonight, there are no constraints, no fear of interruption or pressing obligations. Tonight, he is entirely yours, dedicated to fulfilling every desire and whim that you may have. Jaeyun had made sure every servant was out of the quarters till at least dawn.

What you thought was Miss Son’s idea was founded behind Jaeyun’s generosity. 

As Jaeyun continues to lavish attention on your breast, his ministries grow more fervent, driven by the desire to reconnect with you. His lips and tongue work in tandem, igniting sparks of pleasure that course through your body like wildfire.

"Jaeyun," you moan, the sound escaping your lips in a breathless plea as his hand slips beneath your nightgown and into your panties, "I need you," you confess, your fingers tracing urgent paths up and down his back as you attempt to remove his shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

"I know, darling, I know," he murmurs, his words intermingled with kisses that caress the sensitive flesh of your erect nipple, "But tonight, I want to savour every moment with you, to show you just how much you mean to me."

His touch ignites a fire within you as two of his fingers glide along the slick surface of your arousal, drawing forth a soft purr of satisfaction from your lips. Your body hums with anticipation, aching for his touch as he guides his digits to your entrance, the sensation of them slipping inside you with effortless ease sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

As Jaeyun's fingers delve deeper into your slick warmth, a gasp escapes your lips, your body instinctively arching into his touch. Each stroke of your walls sends ripples of pleasure coursing through you, heightening the intensity of the moment.

His lips are back on yours as he thrusts his fingers in at a fast pace, his thumb now finding your clit as he rapidly flicks it back and forth. The motion causes you to breathe into his mouth, your lover feeling as though you are injecting him with newfound life. He knew he had missed you but having you like this, surrendering to his touch only made it much more evident in his heart.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N. You are utterly captivating, a masterpiece brought to life," he whispers, his voice filled with awe. 

Despite your comparisons of yourself to Princess Mia that you made earlier, you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world with his words. And to him, you are. You will always be the most breathtaking girl he will ever see; not even Aphrodite holds a candle to you, especially not as your face contorts in pleasure.

Each curl and stretch of his fingers scissors you open, making you whine in his ear as you beg him to go faster, which he obliges, his forearm veins protruding as he tenses, putting all his might into pleasuring you.

His unrelenting tempo, along with the tantalising exploration of his tongue, drives you to the edge of bliss, preparing you for the impending release that pulses inside you like a building storm. "Jaeyun, I'm cumming," you manage to exclaim, your words muffled against his lips as you exchange air and need.

"Cum, my love. Let go for me," he pleads, his voice gruff as he grinds his hardness against the fragile flesh of your thigh, looking for some type of release. Trapped in his night bottoms, the throbbing in his loins worsens with each passing second.

With a rough curl of his fingers, you surrender to the torrent of sensation that crashes over you, crying out his name as pleasure consumes you whole. Your body convulses in the throes of orgasm, your essence spilling over his hand. You only wish it was his cock.

Luckily for you, he also dreams of being inside you, the friction on his dick unbearable as he watches you heave out short breaths as your body tries to regulate itself. 

Jaeyun removes his hand from your swollen cunt, kneeling between your legs as he takes in your already spent body. But he isn’t finished with you.

Swiftly, Jaeyun sheds his clothing, the fabric falling to the floor in a whisper of motion before crawling back on top of you. He reaches for your nightgown's hem, sliding his fingertips over the shabby fabric as he tugs it up and over your head. In the dark light, your nude body is bathed in a delicate glow, a picture of ethereal beauty that makes him gasp with need.

As your bodies meld together, skin to skin, the electric current of desire arcs between you. His lips capture yours once again in a searing kiss, hands roaming over your body as he longs to feel every inch of you.

You can’t help but wonder if this will be the last time you have Jaeyun in your arms like this, so you have to make it count.

Sitting up, you feel a burst of confidence rush through you as you push him onto his back, your hands firmly grabbing his shoulders to keep him in place. The horror on his face only strengthens your urge to straddle him, a natural need propelling you forward.

His eyes widen in surprise at your sudden assertiveness, unaccustomed to you taking the lead in your lovemaking. But there's a spark of excitement in his eyes, an eagerness to yield to your touch and let you have your way with him.

Positioning yourself above him, you guide his erect cock beneath you, your core pulsating with excitement. You lower yourself onto him with tantalising slowness, the smooth heat of your sex wrapping around his length inch by inch.

As you start moving, a low sigh leaves his lips, and your hips swing back and forth, The sensation of his hardness buried deep within you sends sparks of ecstasy coursing through your veins, starting a fire that threatens to engulf you both.

Jaeyun's whimpers of bliss fill the air, his hands tightening around your hips as he tries to match your relentless pace, pushing up to meet you with frantic desperation. "God, Y/N," he exclaims, his voice thick with need, "You feel incredible wrapped around me like this."

Your claws sink into his chest as you bounce with renewed zest, taking complete control. Your motions are quick and commanding, leaving him with no choice but to give in to the intense feelings racing through his body, "I've missed this," you admit, your voice heavy with desire, "missed the way you fill me up."

“You have?” he opens his eyes to see your tits bouncing up and down your chest, a sight he thought about most as he stroked his member in the shower while you were out of reach, “Do you want me to fill you up properly?” he asks in a mischievous tone, his hand pulling your head to meet his, cloaking your lips with his own.

Nodding, you mewl into his mouth as both of you groan simultaneously, the sound of skin slapping and your vocalised pleasure bouncing along the walls. It’s raw and passionate, it’s unlike any other time Jaeyun has fucked into you. It’s a memory you’ll cherish forever, especially if this was to be the last time.

“Y/N, my love, I can’t hold out much longer,” he confesses as his eyebrows scrunch together, trying to hold himself back from releasing into you until he knows you’re going to cum again.

Heeding your request, he grips your waist tight, halting your movements as he pistons into you, using all his might to bring you both to the peak. With 3 forceful thrusts, his hips stutter and legs tense as he shoots his seed into you, endless hot spurts painting your walls.

“Please cum inside me, let me feel it,” you beg between kisses, riding him so hard that your thin bed frame is on the verge of collapsing beneath you.

It feels like a dream to have his cum stuffed inside of you again, causing you to follow suit, cumming over his cock with a scream of his name, one that could surely be heard all the way to Lethamhill. 

Jaeyun proceeds to buck his hips up into you, riding out your orgasms together as you collapse on top of him. The inside of your thighs tremble from your combined pleasure, and the intensity of your lovemaking leaves you both breathless and exhausted.

As you come down, you find yourselves tangled together in a mess of limbs and sweat, your bodies still humming with the aftershocks of your shared passion. And as you lie there, spent and sated in each other's arms, you only feel the love between both of you radiating through your shared pants.

Looking up at him, you see his eyes glazed with satisfaction, a lazy smile plastered on the Crown Prince’s gorgeous face. He always spoke about how you were a vision, yet he is the one with a beauty so rare it’s almost impossible to understand how he is real.

But he is and he is holding you in his arms as he slips out of you, pulling your body up to rest more comfortably on himself. 

Your mind now clearing up from the fog of sex allows you to go back to your conversation before this impromptu session with him. 

"Can you truly change the course of this plan?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you search his eyes for any sign of reassurance.

Jaeyun's gaze meets yours, unwavering in its intensity, "I will do whatever it takes to make things right, I will find a way to reconcile my duty with my conscience."

"I want to believe you," you admit, your voice trembling with vulnerability, "But I need more than words, Jaeyun. I need to see action, to know that you're truly committed to making amends."

Jaeyun nods solemnly, understanding the weight of your request. "I will show you, Y/N. I will prove to you that I am worthy of your trust," he vows, his fingers gently tracing patterns along your skin as if to imprint his promise upon you.

“How?”

“I have a plan, but I must detail it out first before I speak it aloud. Please, just trust me.”

_____

The castle is filled with people here to watch the wedding, the wedding you have been dreading since Jaeyun left your quarters last night. He snuck out in the early hours of the morning before the rest of the staff came home. It was a bittersweet goodbye, your bodies that were tangled with one another for hours were pried apart, possibly forever.

The final kiss he placed on your lips is all you can think about as you stand obediently with the other staff, Heeseung by your side as everyone awaits Princess Mia’s arrival. The buzz around the hall is electric yet you feel like an insect, the closer you get to the nuptials, the closer you are to being zapped in the heart.

You feel uneasy as you see Jaeyun fiddle with his ring, the one he will take from his right hand and place on his bride. The more you ponder, the more you come to the realisation that maybe you should have just left, gone home with the cloak of the wedding as your opportunity to flee. 

But Jaeyun asked you to trust him, that he will do the right thing for everyone. The trust you have does not cancel out your breaking heart, however. 

Dressed in his princely attire, Jaeyun exudes a regal air as he stands at the altar, his uniform immaculate and his demeanour poised. Every detail of his appearance seems meticulously crafted to accentuate his undeniable beauty, from the crisp white fabric adorned with intricate gold detailing to the way his dark locks are artfully styled to frame his face.

As the royal band fills the air with music, the grandeur of the moment is punctuated by the entrance of Princess Mia, a vision of grace and elegance. Jaeyun's gaze shifts to her, momentarily captivated by her presence, and you feel a pang of sadness knowing that this is the beginning of the end for you.

This was it, you were losing him before your very eyes, but you cannot be selfish. This was the right thing to do, a sacrifice you must abide by for the kingdom you love. 

Truth be told, it is easier to come to terms with marriage now that you know Jaeyun will do whatever is in his power to truly bring solace between both Glengyre and Lethamhill. Before, once Heeseung revealed the malicious plans to you, you started to wonder if giving up your love was worth it or if it was all for nothing, but now you know it will not be in vain. 

Princess Mia greets Jaeyun at the alter and curtsies, her fiance mirroring her action while you swallow the lump in your throat. There is a glint in both their eyes, while you know it isn’t love, you do question it with a pierced heart. If Jaeyun were to fall in love with her, which is not implausible considering even in the short-lived time you acted as her maid-in-waiting you witnessed how humble and gracious she is, just as Jaeyun is. They match perfectly in every way.

You fight the urge to cry as the ceremony gets underway, the Bishop beginning to unify them both together. 

The moment arrives when the officiant solemnly intones, "If anyone present knows of any reason why this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace." The weight of the words hangs heavy in the air, the tension palpable as the guests hold their breath. 

Not a soul would be foolish enough to-

“We object.”

A choir of gasps fill the air as two harmonious voices speak their objection. Your eyes fall upon them as they smile at one another, letting go of their hands. 

Prince Jaeyun and Princess Mia objected to their own wedding. 

The shock reverberates through the room, eyes widen and murmurs erupt among the attendees. Not you nor Heeseung know what to do in this situation, both of you staring at Jaeyun with bewilderment, wondering what on earth he was doing.

Was this part of his grand plan?

"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests of Glengyre and Lethamhill," he begins, his voice steady yet filled with conviction. "I stand before you today not only as your Prince but as a voice for justice and truth. For too long, a shadow of deceit has loomed over our kingdoms, orchestrated by none other than my own father, the King of Glengyre."

He pauses, allowing his words to sink in, before continuing with a sense of urgency, "It has come to my attention that he was exploiting this marriage as a means to hold Lethamhill hostage, to seize complete control and dominate its people. This nefarious plan would only bring harm and danger to both our kingdoms, jeopardizing the lives and well-being of our citizens. The exact opposite of what he has promised you all."

Beside him, Princess Mia nods in agreement, her expression mirroring his determination, "Furthermore," Jaeyun continues, "Princess Mia has brought to my attention disturbing revelations regarding her father, King James of Lethamhill. It has been made clear to us that he seeks to exploit this union to unlawfully seize land and resources from Glengyre, with the intent of displacing our people to expand his own domain."

The outrage in his voice is palpable, his eyes flashing with defiance as he declares, "Princess Mia and I stand united in our outrage and determination to put an end to these injustices. We refuse to allow our kingdoms to be pawns in the power games of corrupt rulers. It is time for us to take a stand."

Jaeyun’s eyes flicker to you as he utters his next words.

“We will not be getting married.” 

Your knees buckle beneath you, a surge of relief and disbelief flooding through every fiber of your being. The love of your life, the one you were on the brink of losing forever, stands before you, his gaze locking with yours in a silent exchange of understanding. A small, reassuring smile graces his lips

Beside him, Princess Mia commands attention with unwavering confidence, her voice ringing out with authority, "They are not worthy to rule over our sacred lands," she declares, her words cutting through the tension like a sharpened blade. Her gaze pierces through the gathered officials, her unwavering resolve a stark contrast to their shock, "Their sinister schemes amount to nothing short of treason against the kingdoms they swore to protect," she continues, her tone unwavering, "We demand their immediate dethronement and call for this wedding to be transformed into a coronation for both myself and Prince Jaeyun."

The reaction from the royal box is instantaneous, a cacophony of outraged protests and indignant exclamations filling the air. The two Kings, their faces flushed with fury, rise from their seats in a display of unbridled anger, their voices drowned out by the resounding tumult.

“You cannot do this! I am the rightful King of Glengyre,” Jaeyun’s father shouts across the room.

Jaeyun smiles mockingly to his father, “You are right, we cannot do this, not without a vote from the people of our kingdoms,” he says matter of factly.

As the commotion reaches its peak, Jaeyun and Princess Mia stand firm, their resolve unshaken by the storm of dissent around them. Together, they face the fury of the royal box with unwavering determination, their eyes locked in a silent exchange of solidarity.

Despite the chaos, Jaeyun's voice rises above the din, his words infused with unwavering conviction, "We will not allow our kingdoms to be held hostage by the greed and treachery of a few individuals," he declares, his tone ringing out with authority. "It is our duty as leaders to uphold the values of justice and integrity, to safeguard the well-being of our people above all else."

Princess Mia adds her voice to his, her words echoing his sentiments with equal fervour, "We stand united against tyranny and corruption," she proclaims, her gaze sweeping over the crowd with steely resolve, "Together, we will forge a future built on trust, compassion, and unity."

Heeseung looks to you, eyes wide as if begging for answers, yet, you cannot offer him any. You knew Jaeyun had a plan but to go out on a limb like this was not what you were expecting. Shaking your head, your eyes scan the crowd to see their reaction, each face equally as shocked as they are appalled by the Kings’ true intentions with this union.

“Please stand with us. If you wish for Princess Mia and myself to be respective leaders of our kingdoms, Say I,” Jaeyun exudes confidence in his stature but you look at his hand which is fiddling with his jacket, a telltale sign that he is nervous.

Who would not be nervous? This could end in death for both Jaeyun and Princess Mia. If they do not have the people on their side, the Kings will seek to execute them, that much is a given.

The guests in the pews whisper to one another, the discussions hushed as they consider Jaeyun’s words. Your heart races as you await the collective response from the guests. Will they stand with Jaeyun and Princess Mia, or will fear and uncertainty prevail, leaving them isolated and vulnerable to the wrath of the Kings? The air is heavy with anticipation, each second stretching into an eternity as the fate of Glengyre and Lethamhill hangs in the balance.

“I,” a voice from beside you yells out, causing you to flinch. Heeseung, the once esteemed royal guard makes the first vocalisation of agreement. It shocks you considering he was always one to worship the king, “I give my faith to a new king,” he stands forward, kneeling before Jaeyun.

His actions cause a domino effect, echoes of ‘I’ and ‘Here here’ can be heard throughout the hall, each person projecting their trust in their Prince and Princess. 

The prince looks at you with pleading eyes, hoping your trust can be stretched to this moment. 

“I,” you say, the words are lost amongst the commotion but Jaeyun sees it, the love in your eyes, the trust in him to lead the kingdom you hold dear to your heart. Although he must get the approval of all his people, you are the one he needs it from the most. Without your support, he doesn’t feel fit enough to be King.

“Guards, please see the Kings out,” he orders before turning to face the bishop, “Would you do the honours of coronating us, your grace,” he bows, showing his respect.

“Kneel before me, Your Highness,” the Bishop speaks softly.

The hall once filled with chaos and debacle is now silent, smiles and hearts full as their honourable Crown Prince is made King of Glengyre. You have never felt pride for the royal family, but you know that will all change now.

As he is crowned, a hush falls over the hall, a reverent silence that speaks volumes of the significance of this moment. Jaeyun, now King of Glengyre, rises from his kneeling position with a newfound solemnity, his eyes shining with determination and purpose. Beside him, Princess Mia also kneels, her hand clasped firmly in his as they prepare to lead their kingdoms into a new era of prosperity and unity.

The Bishop's voice carries through the hall as he recites the ancient words of coronation, his tone reverent and ceremonial. With each word spoken, the weight of responsibility settles upon Jaeyun's shoulders, a reminder of the solemn duty he has undertaken to rule justly and with compassion.

As the final words of the coronation ritual echo through the hall, Jaeyun and Princess Mia exchange a meaningful glance, their bond strengthened by the vows they have made before their people. They will do what their fathers couldn’t.

“There is to be a party to celebrate the union tonight, the entirety of the kingdoms are invited,” King Jaeyun proclaims, beaming with pride before ushering Queen Mia out of the hall.

With the commotion of happiness and celebration, you get swept up by Heeseung, swinging you around in his arms. The feeling leaves you with a sense of purpose and gratitude to both rulers of the kingdoms. They did what most would be too scared to do, a testament to their love for their citizens.

_____

The night sky above Glengyre is ablaze with the glow of a thousand lanterns, casting a warm and inviting light over the festivities below. The sound of laughter and music fills the air, mingling with the tantalizing aroma of roasted meats and spiced wines. People from all walks of life gather in the grand courtyard of the castle, their differences set aside as they come together to celebrate the dawn of a new era. Never in your years of living did you think you would ever see such a promise for the people.

Jaeyun ordered carriages and carts to bring those on the outskirts of the kingdoms to the castle, making good on his promise. He wanted everyone to be part of this victory, especially those who had suffered at the hands of his father.

Effortlessly, Jaeyun navigates through the people, garnering respect and esteem from everyone he comes into contact with. He pauses to meet and converse with both royalty and peasants, his sincere kindness and humility converting even the most cynical minds.

Barrels of liquor and wine line the perimeter, and long tables creak beneath the weight of indulgent treats, transforming the courtyard into a true feast. Musicians play lively tunes, encouraging guests to dance and revel late into the night.

You, amidst the crowd of celebrants, are witnessing a momentous occasion. You are witnessing how a kingdom ripped apart by conflict and division can come together under a banner of growth and optimism. And you see that Glengyre's future is more promising than ever when you see the happy smiles of your fellow citizens.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Jaeyun’s low voice whispers beside you as he rests his hand on the lower part of your back. Instinctively, you go to move away, scared to be seen, but he holds you in place, hand gripped tight.

Looking into his eyes, you find yourself lost in the depths of his gaze, each flicker of light reflecting his unwavering determination. His touch sends a shiver down your spine as he gently kisses your hand, a gesture that feels both intimate and surreal.

"I trust you to be a fine king," you murmur softly, sincerity lacing every word. "It already looks good on you," you add with a playful smirk, admiring his regal presence and undeniable charisma.

Jaeyun chuckles, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes as he spins around, basking in your laughter. The joyous sound fills the air, a melody that he never tires of hearing. When he finally stands before you again, his expression grows serious, his hands still clasping yours.

"You know, being a queen would look good on you," he remarks, his tone teasing yet earnest.

You scoff incredulously, unable to fathom such a notion. "Perhaps one could dream of that in another lifetime."

"Why not this one?" Jaeyun counters, his gaze unwavering as he meets your eyes.

Confusion clouds your features as you struggle to comprehend his meaning. Before you can protest further, he continues, his words carrying a weight that leaves you breathless.

"Well, I am a king without a queen. It does look rather pathetic, doesn’t it?" he jests lightly, his smile masking the gravity of his declaration. "But with you by my side…"

The implications of his words hit you like a bolt of lightning, leaving you reeling in disbelief. "You cannot make me queen, Jaeyun," you protest weakly, your heart fluttering erratically at the mere thought.

Jaeyun's smile softens, his gaze filled with tenderness as he squeezes your hands reassuringly. "But when I marry you, you will not have a choice."

The weight of his proclamation hangs heavy in the air, each syllable sinking into your consciousness with undeniable clarity. To marry Jaeyun is a dream beyond your wildest imaginings, a fantasy that you never dared to entertain. Yet here he stands, offering you a future that you once believed to be unattainable.

"That is preposterous, Jaeyun. You can’t marry a maid," you protest, the words tumbling from your lips in a mixture of disbelief and awe.

Shrugging, he lets go of your hands, “It is not the most scandalous thing I have done this week,” he smirks, eyebrows wiggling as you both recall the events that just happened a mere few hours ago.

Taking the ring from his right pinky finger, he holds it out to you, face serious now, "Marry me," he implores, his voice filled with earnestness, "be the queen our people need. I trust no one but you to help guide me to better serve this kingdom."

Your throat tightens with emotion, tears brimming in your eyes as you gaze at the ring before you, a symbol of love and commitment. It is a moment that takes your breath away, a choice that will shape the course of your future and the destiny of your kingdom.

As you reach out to take the ring, the weight of Jaeyun's words hangs heavy in the air. Marrying him would mean stepping into a world of royalty, a world you never imagined yourself a part of. Yet, with each passing moment, the idea becomes more alluring.

But reality crashes in, reminding you of the vast chasm that separates your worlds. "Jaeyun, you know I cannot," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with both longing and resignation, "I am but a maid, not worthy of such a title."

Jaeyun's expression softens, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine, "You are worthy of so much more than you realise, Y/N," he insists, his voice gentle but unwavering, "You have already proven yourself to be a queen in every way that matters."

His words resonate within you, stirring something deep within your soul. For so long, you had resigned yourself to the confines of your station, never daring to reach for something beyond your grasp. But now, faced with the possibility of a future with Jaeyun, you find yourself daring to believe in the impossible.

Gently, he slides the ring onto your finger, and you feel a rush of warmth flood through you as if sealing a pact with destiny itself. Looking up at Jaeyun, you find yourself unable to speak, overwhelmed by the enormity of the moment.

Without a word, Jaeyun pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if to reassure you of his love and commitment. In that embrace, you feel a sense of belonging, a sense of purpose that you never thought possible.

“I love you, Y/N. I am at your mercy as your future husband and as your king.”

You smile widely, sniffling away the happiness of tears that fall from your face, “I love you, too, Jaeyun. I vow myself to you forever.”

Your husband-to-be kisses the top of your head as he pulls away, joy radiating from every atom of his being, “Let us celebrate, perhaps in the council chamber?” he teases, fingers trickling up your forearms.

With a sarcastic rolling of your eyes, you follow him. Not just for tonight, but forever.

[vivwritesfics]

Interviewers Are Assholes

The world didn't know about their relationship. But, once they find out, they refuse to leave her alone

(AKA I saw a martin brundle grid walk compilation and he asked someone 'who are you?' and i ran with it)

Loscar x reader

F1 Masterlist

"Are we doing Thanksgiving this year?"

This was not the conversation Logan and Oscar expected to hear from their girlfriend as the three of them stood on the grid. It was normally F1 staff, drivers, engineers, mechanics and such, along with celebrities on the grid before a race. But, dating two drivers on different teams meant not being about to sit in both of their garage at once (she was only human, after all).

So, they stood on the grid together before the race, chatting before the national anthem was played.

"It's kinda early to be talking about Thanksgiving, babe," Logan muttered, shaking his head.

She held her hands up, somewhat defensively. "Just trying to be prepared."

They'd been together for four years at this point. For the first two years of their relationship they hadn't had to worried about traditional celebrations from their countries of origin. But when they all moved in together, she insisted on it.

The first year they'd lived together, they'd gone to Florida for Christmas, spent it with Logan's family.

The next year they'd done Thanksgiving before heading to Australia for a traditional Australian Christmas, filled with seafood and everything.

This year, though, they had no idea what they were doing. Of course she was already stressing about it. It didn't surprise Logan and Oscar in the slightest.

Suddenly Logan and Oscar were looking past her. "What?" She asked, readying herself to turn around. But then Logan and Oscar were retreating. "Guys!" She called, readying to follow them.

There was a hand on her shoulder. She turned around, coming face to face with Martin Brundle on his grid walk. "Hello, who are you?" Martin Brundle asked.

It made sense. She clearly wasn't working for any F1 team, and she was surrounded by celebrities. The fact that she was talking to two of the drivers probably made him all the more curious.

"I am..." But she didn't have an answer for him. Who was she? It had been four years already, why were they hiding it. "I am a... wag," she answered, and immediately regretting it.

What she didn't know was that Logan and Oscar didn't get very far. They stood behind her, just out of view of Martin Brundle's camera, giggling as they listened to her struggle.

"Who's wag are you?" Martin Brundle asked, but he already knew. He'd seen them retreating as he walked over.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Good question, Martin," she said. "Who's wag am I?" Did she choose one of the boys? If so, which one? Or did she just come out to the world, tell everyone that she loved Logan Sargeant and Oscar Piastri?

She went with the latter, unaware of how much it would come to affect her. "Sargeant and Piastri," she said, scratching the back of her neck.

This might have been the strangest grid walk Martin Brundle had ever done. She didn't sound entirely happy to be dating the McLaren Driver and the Williams Driver. Don't get me wrong, she was happy to be dating them, but she was ready to kill them. Assholes.

"What kind of result are you expecting from them today?" She asked.

"Well, Martin, I'm always hoping they do well. Every Grand Prix they try their absolute hardest and every week I'm proud of them," she said, the perfect answer.

Lets just say, after the grid walk, the internet kind of blew up. Loscar was a somewhat forgotten ship, replaced by Landoscar. But it had returned and it was real. It was actually real!

As with everything in F1, some fans loved it, some fans didn't. But, most of all, everybody was so curious. Nobody knew this four year long relationship was a thing until a couple of weeks ago. Everybody, especially F1 reporters wanted to know everything.

Media days were completely filled with questions about their relationship. Logan and Oscar rarely got asked about anything else. They didn't mind. They were more than happy to talk about it.

But interviewers took it too far when they pulled her into things. She wasn't media trained in the way they were. She didn't have a PR team that prepared her with every answer for every question. That was how the grid walk had gone so wrong (or so right, if you asked the Loscar boys).

Oscar had gotten through to Q3, Logan hadn't. As always, she was there to comfort him, to hold him close after media duties. Media duties, which were taking ages.

But then the interviewer spotted her standing behind him. "It was recently reviewed to the world that you and Oscar share a girlfriend. How did that come about?"

The camera focused in on her behind him, as she furrowed her brow. It picked up no sound, but watched as her lips moved, forming 'what the fuck?' It was lost on her, and everyone, what this had to do with racing.

"Uhm, well, we've all known each other for our entire lives, it just made sense that we all dated," he said, clearly uncomfortable.

As soon as the interview was over, Logan wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked her away. "Sorry baby," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"Why is it such a big deal to everyone?" She mumbled, shaking her head.

Most Wags weren't pulled in for interviews. The invasive questions had been a step to far already to the Loscar throuple.

This time, after checking on Oscar in the McLaren garage, kissing him before he went off to to his drivers room. She headed out, meeting the both of them at the car. She never expected to be accosted by an interviewer.

She didn't know his name, she didn't care. He grabbed her arm, pulled her on camera, and shoved a microphone in her face. "So, Y/N, what is it like to be dating to F1 drivers?"

There was a moment before she answered. Her brows were furrowed as she looked between the interviewer and the camera. "Why... why are you interviewing me?"

"The three of you have stunned the world with the announcement of your relationship. When did the three of you meet?"

"Uhm, I-Well... uhm... We've known each other for... sorry, why the hell am I being interviewed? This isn't... I don't want to be interviewed. Please leave me alone."

The interviewer bashfully turned to the camera, trying to recover. As soon as he looked away, she retreated, heading back towards one of her boys drivers room.

Oscar wasn't in his drivers room. He walked towards her, grabbing a hold of her before she had a chance to notice him. "Hey, baby," he said, pulling her close. "Is Logan not ready yet?"

Before answering, she turned back towards the exit, where the interviewer was still waiting. "Let's go get him," she said, pulling Oscar towards the Williams garage.

But Logan, too, was walking towards them. "Logan!" She called, throwing her arms around him. Oscar hung back. When she let go of him, they headed to the exit together. "There's a fucking annoying interviewer up there, and I want to kick his ass," she said, linking her arms through theirs.

"Kick his ass, baby."

They walked to the exit together. Once again, as they walked past the interviewer, he tried to grab their attention. Logan and Oscar were prepared to pull her past, to ignore him, but she stopped. She turned to the interviewer and grabbed his microphone.

"Just a PSA literally everybody," she began. The interviewer and the boys watched on with curiosity. "Our relationship is none of our business. Fuck off."

[skzdarlings]

deleted scene ; sharing a bed with lee know

original sharing a bed one-shot with lee know.

author's note: this is incredibly random, but this is a deleted scene from the lee know instalment of the sharing a bed series. it got cut when i decided to start the story after their big fight rather than show the build-up, but this scene was really cute and i always missed it lol so i am randomly posting it now.

content info: just fluff, some reader crying, and minho being secretly whipped.

word count: 890 words.

-

“Oh no!” 

Minho looks at you over the top rim of his glasses, his mouth full of food.  His phone falls forgotten on the wooden table.

Pouting, you push your salad towards him. 

“They put in the red onion,” you say with more misery than a salad miscommunication warrants.  Much to your horror and his immense bemusement, tears fill your eyes.  “I said no onion.” 

He chokes on his food, trying to swallow quickly so he can talk.  You wipe a stray tear while he hacks into a napkin.  His own eyes are now watery from his spontaneous pork-induced brush with death, but he reaches across the picnic table to wipe your face first.  He’s Minho so it’s more of a gentle slap on each cheek, but you take it with gratitude. 

“It’s okay,” he says, firmly but carefully.  Your behaviour is probably confusing him as you are notoriously composed and pragmatic by nature, so red onion is the last thing he would expect you to cry about.   “Just ask for another one.”  

“I can’t,” you say with a wobbly bottom lip.  You shove the salad further away like a petulant child.  “The line is too long now.  We don’t have time to wait for our turn then wait for them to make a new one.  We have to be back on the highway in no less than twenty minutes or else we aren’t going to beat the rush, and if we don’t beat the rush then we could be late getting to the camp site, and then we could lose our reservation. And I can’t eat this salad because the onion is so strong that it overwhelms everything else.   It’s fine.”   

It’s fine.  It’s fine.  Just one more thing gone wrong this week.  You didn’t cry about the guy.  You didn’t cry about the job.   You are crying about the red onion.  It’s fine.  

Minho takes off his reading glasses as if looking at you directly will help him make sense of your nonsense.  He doesn’t say anything, just stares with his dark brows knit together.  Wisps of dyed blonde hair and their darker roots flutter under the circle of his backwards cap, a cool wind brushing over your picnic spot. 

Of course the weather sucks too.  You and your best friend finally have a shared weekend off and you decided to go camping, so of course it’s been overcast and grey for the whole drive so far. 

Of course the rest stop cafeteria put red onion in your salad. 

“Okay,” Minho says after a minute of just staring at you.  He mutely slides his plate toward you and takes your salad for himself.  When you try to protest, he threatens you with a plastic knife.   “Eat,” he says, pointing to the dish with the knife.  He digs into the salad without further commentary, returning his glasses to his face and picking up his phone to keep reading. 

You stare despondently at the dish for a moment.  Then that bottom lip wobbles more, and more, and more, then suddenly—

Minho drops his phone again, startled when you burst into tears.

“Ahh,” he says, reaching for you with both hands this time.  He tries to reach past your fingers to cup your face, but you are rubbing your eyes and also bouncing with your hiccups.   He eventually gets a semi-stable grip of your chin, thumb pressing hard to tug your face to his when you look away.   “Baby,” he says, “what the fuck?” 

“I’m s-s-sorry,” you say, still hiccupping.  “You just l-l-love me so mu-u-uch!”

“Um,” he says, frowning.  “Sorry.  Here.”  He swaps your plates back.  “I hate you.  Fucking bitch.  Eat your fucking onion salad.” 

You laugh in spite of yourself.  It coaxes you out of hiding, your tear-streaked face turning to his willingly. 

Minho can be loud and goofy, and he’s something of a lunatic around his guy friends, but you and him have always had a quiet, easy friendship.  You are the epitome of regimented and organized, not to mention the very definition of introverted, but he’s so easy-going that your flow as a duo has always been seamless.   You can sit together for hours in silence and not feel awkward once.  His presence alone brings you comfort.  He has seen many sides of you over the years.  Annoyed, happy, content, frustrated, disappointed.  You frown a lot.  You don’t tend to overreact. 

Bawling your eyes out is a new one. 

“I’m fine,” you say with a sigh. 

“Oh, well, if you’re fine,” he says dryly, picking up his phone and pretending to return to it. 

When you giggle, he smiles just that bit, putting the phone down again.  He is clearly out of his element as you seldom require active solace in any sense of the word, so he just sits there flexing his hand and staring at you. 

“Should I… kill them?” he asks uncertainly, pointing over his shoulder to the food stand. 

You laugh again, the sound still a bit shaky.   You shake your head. 

“Are you sure?” Minho asks.  “We could probably run them over on our way out.” 

“Thank you,” you say.  “I’m fine.  I guess I’m just a bit worked up.”

“Hmm.”  He switches your plates again, giving you his food.  “Try being worked down for a bit.” 

“Okay,” you say with a snort.  “I will. Thanks.”

He smiles a little smile, the kind reserved just for you. He looks satisfied he has done his job for now.

You can't help but smile back.

[cierraonline]

They’ve been dating for a while pookie I’m sorry

anywaysssss

Did You Miss US?

chapter two: did you miss us?

warning: none

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

XXX

UCONN GAMPEL PAVILION  

University of Connecticut  

Storrs, Connecticut

Okay guys, we’re back…. Did you miss us? ‘Cause we missed you! - Sasha James UCONN's PG

Whistle blows

“Listen up,” Geno Auriemma, the man with the plan—the man who built stars and legends—UCONN’s women’s basketball head coach with nearly 1,000 wins under his belt, announced. “This season, I will not be your head coach—” The older man was interrupted by gasps that filled the room.

Thirty young women stared at him, mouths agape in shock, while his staff stood behind him in support. “Now calm down. I’m not going anywhere, nor am I retiring. This year, your head coach will be one of our own…. Sasha James.” With that introduction, the brown-skinned girl walked into the stadium and stood next to her mentor, essentially a father figure to her.

“Aahh,” all the returning girls jumped up, rushing to Sasha and pulling her into a tight embrace in congratulations.

“That’s my wife!” Paige pointed to her partner with a wide smile, knowing how much this meant to Sasha.

“Okay, get off me,” Sasha laughed as she tried to push away the arms and hands. “Sit down, y’all are embarrassing me,” she added, mainly addressing her best friends. Once everyone returned to their original spots on the bleachers, her expression turned serious. “So, this year we’ll be following my coaching plan for the women’s basketball team, which was approved by the athletic director, David Benedict,” Sasha said, pointing to the white man who raised his hand in greeting, as it was the first time some players had met him. “First on the list is our Europe tour, a team bonding and learning experience.”

“Really!?”

“Shut up!” The girls jumped up in excitement, thrilled at the prospect of traveling abroad for team bonding.

“Now, we have a problem,” Sasha began, watching the players’ faces grow worried. “There are 30 of us, half of whom are red-shirts due to either prior injuries or eligibility situations. A portion of those who aren’t red-shirts don’t get time on the court because skills aren’t being picked up quick enough. With that, we’re just wasting space and resources. At the end of last season, an email was sent out stating that although the season is over, we want you all to be prepared and in top condition. Freshmen, you got the same email after confirming your commitment to the team. So, before we leave for our trip, we’ll be cutting off the dead weight. Today, you’ll be doing multiple drills and rounds, and if we believe you’re performing well, you’ll stay. If not, I’m sorry, but this will be your last day on the team, regardless of scholarship status.”

Internally, the players felt a bit of panic, but overall they believed they were the best—after all, they’d made it this far.

“You will also have to play according to my standards,” Sasha declared, making the tension rise further. “The goal this season is to win like it has been for the past five years that got us to win Big East Conference and the Final Four. I don’t like losing and I won’t start this season. I like no-score games—it brings in publicity, which brings in money for the department and us as players. I need to know I can trust you all to win without relying on our heavy hitters to play a full game with no breaks. Last season, we recycled the same five players. This year will be different. We have five  players planning to enter the draft, and we need to put them in the best position to be seen and recognized.”

“Are you guys scared?” Geno asked from beside Sasha, observing his players’ reactions. “You should be. We’re still falling behind on basic skills that should come naturally to us. We’re not rebounding properly, not making fast plays, and not thinking smart on the court. There’s no more depending on the starting five or your status to save you.”

“Everything will be tested and calculated, and by the end of the day, the staff and I will be left with the best 14 players to continue with the athletic department. That means 16 of you will be ending your college basketball careers today,” Sasha nodded, watching her teammates exchange glances, wondering who would stay and who would be shamefully dismissed. “Let’s start with suicides—15 on each side, meeting in the middle. Let’s go,” she clapped her hands and took a seat on the bleachers.

Giving them a moment to get into position, Geno blew the whistle, and the running began. “Ramirez is lagging behind; her speed hasn’t improved since her freshman year,” Sasha noted to Geno, who nodded in agreement, jotting down the player’s name.

“Ayanna’s speed seems to have improved since her injury,” Chris Dailey commented, pointing at the sophomore.

“Alright!” Geno blew the whistle. “Line up!” The players stood in a straight line as the staff observed them. The goal of this elimination round was to test speed but also endurance—who looked tired and exhausted? This would show who had taken the offseason seriously and who hadn’t.

“Ramirez, your speed hasn’t improved. Anderson, you look tired, and you’ve only ran for 10 minutes. Bennett, your speed is inconsistent. Davis, Geno feels you’re not giving us your best because you’re overconfident, thinking we can’t replace you. Lastly, Jones, Coach Dailey feels your maturity hasn’t shown any growth. I’m sorry, girls, but you’re off the team. Tomorrow, you’ll have a meeting with David to go over the next steps.” 

Sasha moved on to the next drill. “Alright, let’s do dribbling drills. I want a relay race with 12 on each side, from the left side of the court to the right. The winning side is safe from elimination.” Sasha didn’t have time to watch the eliminated players cry over their lost positions. She needed a winning team—budget-friendly, hardworking, and serious about the chance they are given.

“Flores’ handles are sloppy,” Geno shook his head in disapproval as the player lost control of the ball twice before reaching the other side of the court. “Ines is doing better than last season. Keep a close eye on her.”

“Garcia is looking down too much,” Chris Dailey noted.

“What do we think about the freshmen?” Sasha pointed out Kamorea Arnold, who seemed to have a strong grip on the ball.

“With freshmen, we don’t need perfect; we need to see that there is room for improvement and how fast they can implement corrections,” Geno advised, advising for  Sasha to not expect perfection from the freshmen class. “We want people to see that we create stars, but we also nurture growth and progression.”

“Flores, Garcia, Harris, Johnson, and King, you’re dismissed,” Geno announced, prompting one of the girls to sob and plead for another chance. “You’re seniors, but we have yet to see evidence that shows the progress you made since you’ve been in this program for three years.”

“I plan on entering the draft this year!” Harris cried out.

“You shouldn’t have entered the draft when you’ve haven’t been getting much playing time for the past two years and had no playing time in your freshman year,” Sasha said, moving on to the next test. “Freshmen, you’re safe. Please grab your uniforms, practice schedules, and packing lists.”

“Thank you!” they squealed with big smiles, running to where Chris stood at a foldable table.

“Let’s make this interesting,” Sasha continued. “Geno, Chris, David, and I will each choose a player to save.”

“Paige,” Geno nodded at the blonde, who exhaled in relief before running to the table where Chris stood.

“Nika,” David selected the Croatian player.

“Azzi,” Chris smiled at the league’s best shooter next to Sasha.

“Aaliyah,” Sasha chose.

“Thank you,” Aaliyah whispered as she passed by her friend and teammate, heading to Chris for a congratulatory hug.

“Alright, let’s do rounds. I want to see smart plays… choose your teams,” Sasha directed the remaining players, who were more nervous than ever. With a whistle, a game on each side of the court began, and the returning players played harder than ever. Some stood out for the right reasons, while others didn’t.

“Caroline is thinking smarter; she’s stepping into that leadership role we’ve been waiting for her to take,” Geno commented, watching as she quickly passed the ball to another player instead of holding it and risking a blocked shot.

“Amari’s passes are getting faster,” Sasha noted as the player did a no-look pass to her teammate.

“Aubrey’s defense is improving, especially in blocking and holding screens,” Geno added.

“Alright, line up!” Sasha blew her whistle. “Lewis, Mitchell, Nelson, Parker, Rodriguez—thank you for the time you put into this team, but you’re eliminated,” she announced, watching as the remaining players huddled together, sharing tears and congratulations. “The rest of you, let’s start making corrections faster and implementing them. You’ve been here; you know the standards. It shouldn’t take the last round of eliminations for things to start clicking. We need it to click the minute you step onto the court. Got it?”

“Yes,” they answered, nodding.

“Well, go get your stuff. We’ve got a trip to pack for,” Sasha smiled, clapping her hands.

“Don’t ever put us through that again,” Aubrey jokingly pointed at Sasha as she and Amari pproached her.

“I had to try to get rid of you somehow. Isn’t this your fifth year?” Sasha laughed, nudging the girl’s shoulder.

“Don’t get jumped!” Aubrey laughed.

“Go get your stuff before I have Geno kick you out too,” Sasha rolled her eyes, showing off her playfully sassy side.

taglist @averette98 @hedidnotpleaseme @unknown5397 @girlyglitterprincess @sunwalker355 @akiracutie @pinkandlilacroses @bennybabyyy @pbueckerslover @pbueckers @okimreadynow @blackbarbie96 @blue-whiteuc @randomhoex @tyler-adaline @espersonalsj @hidden-kay1 @kayckeny @chip-the-teapot @woso-scotland @rickflagfine88897 @amourrnini @hon3y-girl @apreer @stfuzoeyy @50shadesofdeville @rebecca-woso @yourmom-25s-blog @lxonix-ac @kaliblazin @klexiasblog @selenalei @thenewprophecysworld @areyourlightsup @billiesrighthand @lordfarquad-k @rhearipley-69 @vvaaaall @dandelions4us @kluvsspongebob @bratyee @bilssharky

[rileyslibrary]

Hello! I just wanted to say that your fics have such a distinct feel that it makes it feel like a cinematic masterpiece so moving as each sentence is full of detail and care it’s INSANE

Could you do one where the 141 as a whole are able to go on leave for a few months but reader doesn’t really have a place to go? Like due to thier participation in the military their family has essentially cut contact with them and the military has been a placeholder for their home-life—how would Ghost react?

Once again I love your works and hope you have an amazing day ‼️

The Log Cabin: Pack Light

A/N: Hi, anon! Thank you for your kind words. Here’s the story; enjoy! :)

———————————————————————

You’re at the base’s garage, squatting on the roof of a battle-worn 1994 Land Rover Wolf, welding a rack that had been blown apart during your last mission. It’s quite admirable how these vehicles can withstand anything coming their way and still stand strong after so many years.

How long are you going to stay strong? The sparks dance around you as you manipulate the welding torch, wishing there was a similar way to mend your scars and those you’ve hurt in the past with your decisions.

But these things are far more complex than welding metal; you can’t mend fractured relationships with mere tools. It takes understanding and empathy—qualities that seem foreign to those once close to you.

Or maybe they’re right, and you’re unworthy of their forgiveness…

You close the oxygen and fuel torch valves, lift your welding mask, and wait for the molten metal to cool. You assess the seams and sigh; it needs more work. You put the welding mask back on, reignite the torch, and continue.

As the heat emanates from the torch, glowing around your gloved hands, it suddenly flickers and sputters before its flame eventually dies out. Baffled, you lift the torch in your hands and shake it. You turn towards the valve, only to see Ghost standing beside it, holding the handle. He’s dressed in civilian clothes, though he still wears his mask and carries a rucksack over his shoulder.

“I was calling out for you, but you couldn’t hear me over the...” he trails off, pointing at the torch.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” you say through the mask, “this thing is a pain to fix.”

Ghost looks at the rack, then back at you. “Does it need to be fixed now?” He asks.

“It does.” You insist, not wanting to disclose the actual reason.

“Liar.”

Your eyebrows shoot up from behind the welding mask. “Excuse me?”

“You expect me to believe that while the rest of the team is on leave and doesn’t require that vehicle, you absolutely need to fix it.” He says.

You look at the torch and then back at him. “I must do it so it’s ready when you guys return.”

“When you guys return.” He repeats. “So, you’re not leaving.”

You forcefully turn to face him. “I am leaving.” You assert.

“Oh yeah?” He provokes you. “Where are you going?”

“None of your business, Lt.”

“See?” He says and lifts both hands, “You’re lying.”

You lower your head and throw the torch onto the roof. “What do you want me to say, huh?” You murmur, “What?”

“The truth,” he replies, “and take that bloody mask off while you’re at it.”

“Why should I take it off?” You sneer and point at his mask. “You wear yours all the time.”

“You can see my eyes, though, can’t you?” He explains and points to his face. He gestures with his head towards you. “Let me see yours,” he commands.

You roll your eyes and lift the mask. He removes his balaclava in return.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He asks. “What exactly are you trying to fix?”

‘My relationship with my family,’ you think to yourself and feel your face getting warmer than before when the wielding flames were burning around you.

He stands there with one thumb tucked under the rucksack’s strip. He’s waiting for an answer—a proper, truthful answer.

“This is my home.” You whisper, shrugging and lowering your head.

“What about your family?” He asks, and you shake your head, tears start filling your eyes.

“Any friends?” He asks again, this time softer.

You give him another negative shake of the head, which causes the tears to run down your face. You quickly wipe your cheeks with your gloves.

He removes his rucksack from his shoulder, drops it to the ground and puts his hands on his waist.

“Have you tried talking to them?” He asks.

“I did,” you reply, “but they don’t want anything to do with me. I disgust them, and I’m not proud either...”

“Nobody’s proud.” He admits and puts one hand on the roof’s rack, “But somebody has to do what we do.”

You sniff and rub your nose. “See? That’s why I’m here, fixing that damn rack; somebody has to do it.” You explain. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Not necessarily.” He shrugs. “Not all of us will go see family or friends; Price is travelling to the Caribbean alone as we speak, and I’m off to Scotland.”

“With Soap?”

“Fuck no!” He yells, and a chuckle escapes his lips. “He has no idea I’m going there.”

Your lips curl up, and he returns your smile. He knocks on the vehicle’s roof twice and opens his mouth to say something, but he hesitates and stops. You decide to break the silence.

“Thank you for listening to me.” You whisper.

He bites his bottom lip and pats the roof once more.

“Wanna come with me?” He asks.

Your face warms up again but for a whole different reason.

“T-to Scotland?!” You ask, surprised.

Ghost scratches his cheek and nods. “Yeah,” he replies, “it’s a small cabin in the woods—it has a single bed, an outdoor toilet, and we’ll have to hunt for food. But it has a beautiful pond for swimming and plenty of hiking trails.”

“Wow, wow, wow, one bed?!” You shout, throwing your hands up, “That’s a bit too forward, don’t you think, Lt.?”

“Come on!” He smirks, “As if we haven’t experienced that before. We’ll make it work.”

You look at him, and he returns your gaze. You’re grateful for his offer, but doubt still lingers.

“Thank you, Lt.,” you reply, “but I need to finish that rack.”

“Bollocks!” He shouts and smiles. “How long will it take you?”

“That’s not what I mean-”

“How long?” He repeats.

“Simon..”

He drops the smile and looks you straight in the eyes.

“I’m serious,” he whispers.

“You’re just offering out of pity.” You speculate, and he throws his head up, letting out a sharp chuckle.

“Very bold of you to think I’d invite you out of mere pity.” He says. “I thought you also had plans; that’s why I didn’t offer before. I’m doing it because I found the opportunity.”

You look at him, contemplating his words, then shake your head.

“Thanks,” you say, “maybe next time.”

He picks up his rucksack and begins walking towards the garage’s exit.

“We’re leaving in an hour!” he shouts as he walks towards the door.

“Ghost! “

“Pack light!”

———————————————————————

Part 2 this way ->

[daisymbin]

please don't go - jeon wonwoo

warnings: none

pairings: jeon wonwoo x afab reader

genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst

a/n: lower case intended! also writing my first fic at 1am so.....

check out my masterlist!

"how was your date?'' wonwoo asked the second the door opened to your shared apartment. not that wonwoo would ever admit it but it is currently 1:03am and he may or may not have stayed up to wait for you to return despite having had a very exhausting day himself.

''why are you still up? isn't it past your bed time?'' you asked as you removed your heels. 'i couldn't sleep.' he simply said. ''so? how was it?''

'it was alright i guess. it wasn't the best but it wasn't the worst either.'' sighing, you walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge before settling near the island of the kitchen.

truthfully, you didn't want to discuss the details with wonwoo. because aside from the fact that you're in love with your best friend, you've also been going on a few dates with mingyu now to try and get over your best friend. seungkwan had suggested setting you up with mingyu when you confided in him as he knew mingyu was interested in you. the only problem, however, is the fact that wonwoo seemed to not like mingyu. ever since the first time you went out with mingyu, wonwoo had no problem in letting you know how bad of an idea it was. saying mingyu was not your type, or that you both don't look good together; all these petty reasons that make no sense at all and you were slowly getting annoyed.

''are you hungry?'' you asked as you tried to change the topic.

''are you going to continue going out with him?''

''should we order some pizza?''

''mingyu isn't even your type, i don't know why him out of all people.''

''or should we order some pasta if you're not feeling pizza?''

''y/n.''

''or maybe i should cook us something? fried rice?''

''y/n can we please just talk about this?''

''do we still have any rice left?''

‘‘Y/N PLEASE!''

''what wonwoo?'' you said back harshly. it isn't until now that you realise how frustrated you are. trying to move on from him is so hard when he is around you all the time. it makes it even harder when he keeps being harsh about your dates and points out why each one of them isn't suitable for you, and the worst part of it all is that you know he's right, all of it. but what were you to do? there is no one who could ever come close to wonwoo.

''stop going out with mingyu! you don't even like him!''

''and how do you know that? maybe i do like him! maybe i like him a lot!'' you wanted to scream and shout to get all your feelings out..but this isn't your first fight with wonwoo about mingyu or any other guy you've been on dates with and you were just so worn out by now.

''that's bullshit and you know it. mingyu literally checks none of the boxes on your list of traits for your type.''

''i made that list 3 years ago! things change wonwoo! not all of us stay the same!''

its wonwoo who is silent now. his knuckles have turned paler than ever from gripping onto the edges of the island so hard.

''what the hell does that mean?''

''nothing.'' you said as you picked up your purse and head to your bedroom. you don't get to go far though, because wonwoo is holding onto your wrist now. so tightly yet so gentle at the same time. you wonder how that is possible. you hope he doesn't feel the pulse on your wrist picking up speed, and he hopes you don't feel his hand slightly trembling.

''please sweetheart...just..not him''

you sigh for the nth time tonight, ''wonwoo i can't just not date every guy you think isn't good enough or suitable enough for me. how am i ever going to find someone?''

''do you have to? do you have to find someone? i know you don't like mingyu enough so why?''

''really wonwoo? do i not like mingyu enough or do you just not like mingyu like how you don't like every single guy i've ever been on a date with? why? are you scared i'll call you less? replace you? have a new best friend? spend less time with you?'' your frustration was slowly growing again.

wonwoo feels his heart clench. can he tell you? will it ruin your 8 year long friendship? things are bound to become awkward, there's no way he can tell you how he truly feels.

but wonwoo decides, wonwoo finally decides that hiding his feelings from you for 5 long years is excruciating enough.

''none of that.'' he says so softly you can barely hear him.

''what?''

''i said, its none of that.''

''then what is it?''

wonwoo decides that if he is to get his heart broken by you, it might as well be tonight. he might as well just....try

wonwoo looks at you one last time for what feels like a good 10 minutes, even though it was only 10 seconds. he's contemplating, he's thinking and then.. he says fuck it.

his body moves faster than his brain. before he could properly process it, he finds his lips on yours. he feels you freeze for a split second, and then he feels you relaxing under his touch. he feels you kissing him back. he feels his heart beating so fast but also, he feels his heart slowly but surely unclench.

he pulls away softly and slowly. ''don't go out with mingyu anymore. don't go out with anyone else anymore. don't have dinner dates with anyone else. don't laugh at someone else's jokes that aren't funny just for the sake of being polite. i won't put you through all of that. i'll hold your hand. i'll have a pair of your converse in the car so your feet won't hurt from heels all day. i'll tell you jokes that are actually funny the way i know you like it. just let me love you and i'll show you all the ways i know how when it comes to you.''

you don't realise your tears slowly staining your cheeks, not until wonwoo's free hand comes up to wipe your tears with his thumb. its now your turn for your hand to reach out for wonwoo's wrist to pull him in for a kiss.

''please...please don't go''

''do you mean it?'' you asked softly

''i do. i love you, and i'll show you.''

and he does. now, he always holds your hand when you're walking on the street, crossing the road, lazing on the sofa, on the bed, on the table when you're waiting for your food to be served. he holds your hair back when you have to puke after having too much to drink. he removes your make up for you when you are too tired or too drunk. he never makes you wait, he always gives you the first bite of his food. he kisses you on the cheek, on the forehead, on your temples, the back of your hand, your fingers and on your lips, all while always telling you how much he loves you. he loves you in all the small and simple ways. but jeon wonwoo knows you love him too.

a/n: im not exactly satisfied with this because while proof reading it, it feels a bit rushed but i did start this at 1am and it is 4am now so this should do. please let me know what you think or if you have any requests! hopefully my first fic went okay hahaha

[happy74827]

No Ordinary Life

[Sam Riordan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: The group had almost ran out of options on what to do with Sam, but Andre had decided there was still one more option to explore. And that option, was you. (GIF credits: @heronamedhawks)

WC: 1,179

Category: Slight Fluff, Slight Angst

We don’t know much about Sam as of right now, but I do know I would literally die for this boy. He and Emma really deserve the world, and they fr better have their happy ending (which seems impossible given the universe they live in, but one can hope). This definitely deserves a part 2, depending how well it goes, but for now enjoy the purity that is Sam.

Edit(2023): Hey I finally made the part 2, check it out here

『••✎••』

As Sam walked down the bustling halls of Godolkin, he couldn't help but feel like an outsider. All around him, kids with extraordinary powers, kids like him, were chatting, laughing, and walking to their classes. They were able to use their gifts freely and openly, and they were respected by others for it, but Sam didn't have that luxury. Honestly, he couldn’t remember a time that he did.

All he remembered was the woods, his brother, and the constant pain of being hunted.

His hand unconsciously traveled to top of his head, pulling the hoodie that Emma had lent over to him farther over his face as he tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn't easy when the hallway was completely crowded by nosy students, but he did his best. That’s all he could really do.

Emma and Marie (as he found her name to be) were by his side, protecting him for the skewing eyes of others. For the most part it worked, except it drawn more attention to her due to that odd system that Emma had acknowledged him about. A rating, whatever that was.

It was cool to know that his brother had been ranked number one, though.

If Luke was still… No, don’t think about it, Sam.

He shook his head, ridding himself of that train of thought. There was no point in dwelling on the past, and thinking about his brother wouldn’t change anything. He was gone, and Sam was left alone.

His thoughts were interrupted by Jordan, who he was still slightly confused about. He? She? They? They seemed to have been good friends with his brother and they were friendly enough, so Sam didn’t really question the matter too much.

Plus, he kinda enjoyed the subtle sarcasm that Jordan would once in a while use. It made him feel like a kid back in school. So for that, Sam was thankful.

“Dude, this has got to be the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” Jordan had said, turning to the guy walking besides them… Andre. Sam didn’t know what to make of him, or anyone really. He had always been so closed off from other people, that now it was almost a bit overwhelming.

But at least he had Emma, so he didn't have to worry about the social aspect too much.

Andre gave Jordan a sideways look, a small smirk on his face. He seemed pretty chill too.

“Listen, I don’t like this anymore than you do, Jordan,” Andre stated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But with everything happening, and with Cate… this is our best option.”

“Yes, let’s bring the kid with a bounty over his head into the place where they’re all going to be looking for him. Great idea, Andre. Seriously, how did I not think of it first. Soooo smart of you, dude. Good job. I'm so glad we're friends, really I am.”

Jordan rolled their eyes, and Andre just looked away in annoyance. Then, to Sam’s dismay, an awkward silence fell over the group. Once again, Sam was struck by just how different his life was now. It was like he was suddenly thrown into another world, and he had no idea how to function in it. He was so far out of his comfort zone that he couldn’t even see the zone.

Sam glanced over to Emma, and saw her smiling encouragingly at him. He tried his best to return the gesture, but he felt like his face muscles were going to fall off if he forced them any longer.

After what seemed like hours, but really only a couple minutes, Andre halted in front of a random dorm room door, and turned to face the group. He sighed, his face set into a look of grim determination. Then, he knocked.

Three times, Sam counted. Three knocks.

The door opened almost immediately after, and the man who answered had to be the most handsome human being Sam had ever seen. He had short black hair, a sharp jaw, and a dazzling smile. It was actually kind of intimidating.

“Whadda’ want?” the man asked, his voice a rich baritone. Sam didn't know why, but it felt like the man was judging him. His eyes scanned over the group, lingering on Sam for just a second, before returning back to Andre.

Andre cleared his throat, a bit nervously, but he didn’t get a chance to speak as Jordan scoffed, shoving past the man and into the room. Emma followed, giving the man an apologetic look as she did. And thus, everyone followed, leaving the man alone and bewildered in the doorway.

Once everyone was settled inside, the man shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at Andre, his eyes burning holes through his head, but Sam didn’t pay any attention towards him anymore. All his eyes were on the strange girl in front of him, you.

You were sitting on the floor, legs crossed and a bored expression on your face. Your eyes were half lidded, and you seemed to be lost in your own little world. Andre had mentioned you, a little. Said that you were the person he had called earlier, that you would help them figure out what to do with Sam, and that you knew and could a lot of stuff. But he had never told them how gorgeous you were.

Your hair was down, and looked so soft that Sam just wanted to touch it, run his fingers through it, and feel the texture. You had a cute little button nose, and a round, chubby face that was just too adorable. And your eyes were so expressive, a mixture of colors that swirled and shone and sparkled in the light.

Andre had called your attention and you snapped out of it, blinking a few times before glancing up at him. It was then that you noticed the others, and you stared at them all, wide eyed and open mouthed, but that was quickly replaced with a smile.

“Hi, Andre! Wow, you must be Jordan… Marie… and Emma? Right? Oh, and you must be the kid Andre talked about, oh my gosh. It's so nice to finally meet you all. Sorry I didn’t say anything when you came in, I was just finishing up this thing for Kota. Oh, Kota! You're still here… hi. Wait, why are you all here? You weren’t supposed to be here until 2:00, and it's only-”

You looked down at the watch on your wrist, your eyes widening even more when you realized the time. You had been talking so fast that no one had been able to get a word in edgewise, but you had managed to finish what you had to say, and it was all so rushed that it was hard to keep up.

The only thing Sam could focus on was how despite all of that rambling and mumbling, you were still keeping that bright smile that never seemed to falter. A truly happy supe? He never thought it would exist. Even Emma, as sweet and pretty as she was, tended to falsify the smiles she had. Sam only saw her real one about three times. He cherished them, of course. Every single one.

You stood up, brushing yourself off and fixing your clothes, and walked over to them. Your hand was outstretched, and your smile was radiant. Sam could practically feel the happiness radiating off of you.

You looked so innocent, so sweet and pure. He could hardly believe that you were a supe, but the fact that they were all standing here said otherwise. You had power, and you knew how to use it.

Jordan and Marie seemed to have recovered from their daze, and the two shook your hand after Andre. Marie had even introduced herself, and it ended with you in giggles, telling her that you already had known her name.

Emma was next, and she had taken your hand immediately and shook it.

Then it was just him that was left.

He stood frozen, staring down at your outstretched hand. He could feel all the eyes in the room on him, and he just knew that his hood was starting to slip.

His instincts were yelling at him, screaming at him to run. To get out of there and stay far, far away from you. From everyone.

But he couldn’t.

So, instead of fleeing, he slowly, cautiously took your hand in his. It was small, warm, and fit perfectly.

You smiled again but this time it was strictly for him, because of him, and it made his heart beat just a bit faster.

He didn’t even realize it until your smile has widened, but he had pulled down his hood, letting you see his face. He didn't understand why he did, and a part of him wanted to pull the fabric right back over his face, but it was too late now.

The damage had been done.

Sam didn’t have a chance to scrape off the dried blood off his cheeks, another result of an accidental outburst, and he could feel your eyes rake over his face, taking in every single detail.

But it wasn’t judgmental, or critical.

No, there was something else in those swirling eyes of yours, and it was then that he noticed the little flecks of gold hidden in the sea of color.

Sam was a bit embarrassed, to say the least, and he tried to pull his hand away but your grip only tightened, and he didn't have the strength to resist. He felt your hand go up his arm, unraveling the hoodie that clung to him like a second skin.

The others didn’t seem to do anything as you pulled the material above his elbow.

Your eyes roamed over the scar that stretched across his forearm, and he knew what was coming before the words even left your mouth.

Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at you as you asked the dreaded question, and his eyes were glued to the floor.

It was Emma who answered, her voice barely a whisper.

Sam despised the pity in your tone. The last thing he wanted was to be pitied. He didn't need or want anyone's pity. He was fine. Everything was fine.

The silence shattered as you took a sharp breath, but Sam couldn't bring himself to look at you. Not when he knew the look of pity in your eyes.

You released his arm, the hoodie dropping to the ground, but Sam didn't even register it. He stood there, frozen, as you slowly reached out your hand towards his face.

"Before I do anything, I want to warn you so it doesn't scare you. Is that okay with you? I just... I want to make sure you're alright. But if you don't want me to touch you, I won't. I'll respect your boundaries. Just tell me, okay?"

Sam blinked, his head tilting upwards, his eyes wide with surprise. There was no pity in your eyes. No negativity or degradation. Only a gentle concern and kindness that he had only experienced in these past few days.

Your touch was tender, and he felt a warmth spread across his face. He couldn't bring himself to deny you. So he nodded, and a small smile appeared on your face. It was still a smile, but a different kind. One he had never seen from you before. And once again, that smile was meant just for him.

Suddenly, the lights in the room dimmed, capturing Sam's attention. He hadn't noticed before, but the entire room was filled with interconnected lights, forming a grid-like pattern. They began to glow, pulsating and shifting with each passing moment. The light danced across the walls, creating mesmerizing shapes.

Sam was captivated by the whole process. And then, the lights suddenly stopped, freezing in place. Sam expected them to return to their normal brightness, but they grew brighter and brighter. It was then that he noticed your hands. They were no longer touching him, but rather, they hovered above him, palms facing his face. A peculiar expression settled on your face.

Sam didn't know what it meant, but he didn't have time to wonder because, in an instant, your hands transformed into light. It wasn't like beams shooting out of your palms, but rather, golden particles that flowed around your body and traveled along the lights, intensifying their brightness. Patterns began to form and move.

Sam watched in awe as the shapes transformed into pictures and scenes. The colors melted and shifted together. Light filled the room, washing away the world around him, leaving only the vibrant colors, the images, and your face.

Your face, so close to his. The smile still adorned your lips, and your eyes shone like stars, the brightest things in the room. Sam could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Reluctantly, he admitted that the light was beautiful, just like you.

It was the most extraordinary sight he had ever witnessed. It was as if the sun had exploded, its light spreading across the room. The colors danced along the walls, forming vivid images. Sam saw a field, a house, a family. He saw his old friends. He saw him. His brother, Luke.

Sam's face crumpled, and a sob escaped his throat. Tears blurred his vision, but they were absorbed by the light, vanishing as soon as they fell. You remained a silent observer, watching over him as the colors gradually faded, and the world returned.

The room was as bright as before, but everything was the same. Sam could still see the concern and worry etched on your face. You reached up to wipe away his tears, but this time he flinched back, and the contact never happened. Your hands fell to your sides.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and your lips trembled, trying to hold back your emotions. But a tear escaped, rolling down your cheek. Andre cleared his throat, breaking the spell. Both you and Sam turned to face the others.

They were all watching, expressions of shock and confusion on their faces, except for Jordan, who wore a mask of indifference.

Andre and Emma stared at you, mouths agape, while Sam saw the tears in your eyes, the fear evident on your face.

Of what, he couldn’t tell. As of right now, there were so many things you could be scared of. With The Woods, being the thing that contains most of it all, It was hard to pinpoint one specific reason.

Then, just like before, Andre's voice cracked as he decided to interrupt Sam’s thoughts.

"What the hell was that?"