#i had to replace my laptop and it took me a while to get round to downloading photoshop on the new one

[kinnbig]

✨ Simple Gif Colouring for Beginners ✨

I wrote up my basic gif colouring process for a friend recently, but a couple of people here mentioned they'd also find it helpful! so, as requested, this is a beginner-friendly walkthrough of the way I colour my gifs :) it's aimed at brand new gif makers with no prior experience with photoshop or photo editing.

when I first started gif making I found colouring and photoshop in general suuuper daunting, so I've tried to simplify everything here as much as possible. hopefully this will be relatively easy to follow and not too intimidating!

a couple of things to begin with:

I'm only talking about colouring here - this is not a full gif making tutorial. I've linked to some of my favourites of those here!

I personally like to make bright, 'clean' looking gifs with vibrant but natural colours, so that is the style of colouring this tutorial is geared towards. most of gif colouring is subjective and about personal taste - the only thing that I'd say is possible to get wrong is skin tones, which I talk about a lot in this guide.

as I mostly gif Thai dramas, most of the advice is geared towards colouring for East Asian/South East Asian skin tones - but the techniques should be fairly universally applicable (and here are some tutorials that talk about gif colouring for other skin tones).

I'm not an expert! I'm not claiming this is the best or the only way to colour gifs - it's just how I do it.

this post is very image-heavy. if the images aren't loading (or the gifs are running slowly or cutting/looping weirdly), then try viewing the post in its own tab (rather than on the your dash or someone's blog) and refreshing the page.

okay, full walkthrough beneath the cut!

contents:

1. intro a. natural gif colouring goals b. very very basic colour theory 2. super simple colouring (the essentials) a. curves b. selective colour (and skin tone correction) c. hue/saturation d. saving and reusing colouring e. another simple colouring example 3. other adjustment layers a. brightness/contrast b. levels c. vibrance d. colour balance e. channel mixer 4. troubleshooting a. curves b. saturation 5. fin!

1. intro

the colouring part of gif making can be super overwhelming, especially if (like me when I first started!) you're completely new to photoshop and/or have no experience with colour theory or photo/video editing.

if you're opening photoshop and making gifs for the first time, I highly recommend getting used to making a few basic, uncoloured gifs to begin with. just to practice, rather than post anywhere (though you can always come back and colour them later if you want) - but it'll make the rest of the process much easier if you're already beginning to get used to working in timeline mode of photoshop. give yourself a bit of time to practice and get a feel for things like how many frames you tend to like in a gif, where you like to crop them for the best loop, what kind of aspect ratio you like etc* - so that you're not trying to navigate all of that for the first time on top of everything else!

* frames: for me between 60-90 frames is ideal, but 40-120 frames is the absolute min-max I'd personally use in a normal gifset loops: for the smoothest loops, try to avoid cutting someone off mid-movement or mid-word if possible. aspect ratio: for full-size (540px) gifs, I tend to go for either 8:5 (slightly 'skinnier' gifs), 7:5, or 5:4 (particularly big, thick gifs lmao)

✨ natural gif colouring goals

part of what can be so daunting about starting gif making is not knowing where to start or what you want to achieve. this is definitely something that gets easier with practice - the more gifs you make, the more you'll get a feel for what kind of look you like and the more instinctively you'll know how to get there. it also helps to see if any gif makers you like have made "before and after colouring" posts - these can help with getting a sense of the kinds of changes made through gif colouring. here's one I made!

in general, I like to make my gifs bright and 'clean' looking, with vibrant but natural colours. these are the things I'm usually hoping to achieve with colouring:

brighten dark scenes

remove muddy, yellowish lighting or filters

saturate colours

correct any skin lightening filters or overexposure

make lighting and colours as consistent as possible between gifs within a single gifset, especially gifsets featuring gifs from multiple scenes/episodes/videos

this guide is focusing on natural colouring, but of course there are many cool ways to make stylised/unnaturally coloured gifs. imo you'll need to master these basics first, but if you want to learn how to do things like change the background colour of gifs or use gradients or other cool effects, then @usergif's resource directory has loads of super helpful tutorials!

✨ very very basic colour theory

[disclaimer! I don't know shit about fuck. I do not study light or art. this is just an explanation that makes sense to me exclusively for the purposes of gif making.]

the primary colours for light/digital screens are red, blue, and green. having all three colours in equal measures neutralises them (represented by the white section in the middle of the diagram).

so to neutralise a colour within a gif, you need to add more of the colour(s) that are lacking.

in practice this usually means: the scene you want to gif is very yellow! yellow is made of red and green light, so to neutralise it you need to add more blue into your gif.

it can also mean the reverse: if you desaturate the yellow tones in a gif, it will look much more blue.

looking at the colour balance sliders on photoshop can make it easier to visualise:

so making a gif more red also means making it less cyan.

removing green from a gif means adding magenta.

taking yellow out of a gif will make it more blue.

tl;dr:

neutralise yellows by adding blue (and vice versa)

neutralise reds by adding cyan (and vice versa)

neutralise green by adding magenta (and vice versa)

2. super simple colouring (the essentials)

starting with a nice sharpened gif in photoshop in timeline mode. (these are the sharpening settings I use!)

some scenes are much harder to colour than others - it helps to start out practising with scenes that are bright/well-lit and that don't have harsh unnaturally coloured lights/filters on. scenes with a lot of brown/orange also tend to be harder.

I usually save a base copy of my gif before I start colouring just in case I end up hating it, or find out later that it doesn't quite fit right into a set and need to redo it etc.

so here is my base gif!

it's an okay gif, but it has a bit of a yellow tint to it that I want to reduce.

colouring is easiest to do in adjustment layers, which can be found under layer -> new adjustment layer - or for me they are here:

there are lots of different types of adjustment layers that do lots of different things - but for me the absolute essentials for colouring are curves, selective colour, and hue/saturation.

I also use brightness/contrast, levels, exposure, vibrance, colour balance, and channel mixer sometimes, depending on the gif - but I use curves, selective colour, and hue/saturation on every single gif.

✨ curves layer

the first thing I always do is a curves layer. when you first open one it will look like this:

first I usually click the ‘auto’ button, just to see what happens. sometimes it makes a big difference (it usually brightens the gif a lot) - but on this gif it didn’t do much.

if it had made the gif look nicer then I would have kept it and added a second curves layer on top to do the rest of these steps.

the next step is selecting the white and black points with the little eyedropper tools.

the bottom eyedropper lets you pick a white point for the gif. click somewhere super light on the gif to see what happens - for this gif, I clicked on the lampshade on the left. if it looks weird, I just undo it and try somewhere else - it usually takes a few goes to find something that looks good.

here's what that did to the gif:

then I pick the top eyedropper and use it to pick a black point by clicking somewhere really dark, again playing around until I find a black point that looks good.

here's what the gif looks like after picking the white and black points:

this can take some experimenting, but you can make super easy drastic changes to your gif just with this. in this case, the curves layer took out a lot of that yellowy tint.

and this is what the curves graph looks like now:

you can click and drag those lines to make further changes if you want - I usually leave them alone though. the colours of the lines indicate which colours have been changed in the gif - for example, you can see from that steep blue line on the graph that blue has been added to neutralise those yellows.

next I usually do another curves layer and just press the ‘auto’ button again to see what happens. usually it brightens the gif a bit more, which I like.

‼️if nothing is working: usually with a bit of fucking about a curves layer works well - but sometimes you can’t find a good white and black point anywhere, and instead your gif turns wacky colours and nothing looks good. this happens more often with very heavily colour tinted scenes :( the troubleshooting section at the end goes over some options, including starting with a levels layer instead.

✨ selective colour (and skin tone correction)

skin tones are made up of a mixture of yellow and red.

removing yellow (or adding blue or red) to a gif will make the skin-tones too red - and removing red (or adding cyan or yellow) to a gif will make the skin-tones too yellow.

adding blue to this gif with the curves layer took out the yellowy tint, which I wanted - but it also took the yellows out of Kim's skin tone, which I don’t want. so I need to put yellow back into the skin tones specifically - without putting it back into the rest of the gif.

selective colour layers let you select an individual colour and adjust the levels of other colours within that colour. you can change how yellow the green shades are, or how much cyan is in the blues, for example.

I need to add yellow back into the red tones to correct the skin tones on this gif. this is the case for most gifs in my experience - the vast majority of the time, unless a scene is very heavily tinted in another colour, a curves layer will add blue/remove yellow.

in the 'colors' dropdown, select the 'reds' section and drag the 'yellow' slider higher - this will add more yellow into just the red shades within the gif.

the amount of yellow you need to add back into the reds depends on how much yellow was taken out of the gif initially - I just play around with the slider until it looks right. if you're not sure, it helps to have some neutrally-coloured (not white-washed!) reference photos of the people in your gif to compare to.

here's the result. Kim's skin is a lot less pink toned and much more natural looking:

✨ hue/saturation

this adjustment layer lets you adjust the hue and saturation of the gif as a whole, and also of each colour individually.

I don't use the hue or lightness sliders unless I'm trying to do something more complicated with the colouring.

clicking the dropdown menu that says 'master' lets you edit the saturation of each colour individually. this is useful if your gif is still super tinted in one colour.

I thought the yellows on this gif were still slightly too bright, so I switched to the yellow channel and desaturated them slightly. (remember if you do this then you need to go back to selective colour and add more yellow into the red skin tones to balance out the desaturation!)

then I increased the 'master' saturation of all the colours to +5:

I usually find the right amount of saturation is somewhere between +5 and +12, but it depends on the gif.

‼️if the gif feels undersaturated, but the saturation slider isn't helping/is making the colours worse, try a vibrance layer instead.

done!

✨ saving and reusing colouring

you can copy and paste adjustment layers between gifs to make your colouring even across each of your gifs for one scene - so if you're making a set of multiple gifs of the same scene, or you think you might want to gif the same scene again in the future, you can save it as a psd so you can reuse the colouring again later.

each gif's colouring will then still need tweaking - different cameras/angles/shots of the same scene can still start out with slightly different colouring.

I recommend uploading the gifs as a draft post on tumblr so you can see what they all look like next to each other and catch any inconsistencies.

✨ another one! (speedrun!)

HI KEN!

the white point for the curves layer was in the window behind them.

the curves layer removes the muddy yellow tint, but again it makes their skin tones (especially Ken's) very red toned, which is adjusted by the selective colour layer.

3. other adjustment layers

imo many many gifs can be coloured really nicely with just those three adjustment layers, but some need different adjustments.

✨ brightness/contrast

pretty self explanatory!

I personally usually avoid using the 'brightness' slider because I rarely like the effect - I only tend to use the 'contrast' one. 

the 'auto' button is sometimes useful though, especially if you’re struggling with the curves layer.

✨ levels

levels alters the white and black points of the gif, like curves - but unlike curves it doesn't also alter other colours.

use the sliders beneath the graph to alter how dark/light the gif is. you can slide the black slider further to the right to make the blacks darker, and the white slider to the left to make the whites lighter.

levels is a good place to start if your curves layer isn't working.

(I'm going to hit the image limit for this post lol so here are some screenshots of a table I made to demonstrate this rather than actual gifs. sorry!)

on both sides, I dragged the sliders up to where the big jumps are on the graph - this is usually a good place to start!

✨ vibrance

vibrance... makes the colours more vibrant. it's more subtle than saturation.

it's really helpful for gifs that feel grey. sometimes adjusting saturation just makes the greys kind of weirdly tinted, but a vibrance layer can fix that.

vibrance is much more subtle!

✨ colour balance

colour balance affects the overall balance of colours within a gif.

it's good for scenes with heavy tints.

I tend to stick to the 'midtones' dropdown, but you can also alter the colour balance within the shadows and highlights if you want.

✨ channel mixer

I avoided channel mixer for such a long time because it scared me. but it's great for scenes that are very heavily tinted in one colour.

basically, it works with the levels of red, green, and blue within a gif. you select an output colour and then play around with the levels of the colour you selected within each other colour.

kind of the reverse of selective colour?

so in the 'blue' channel, the levels of blue are at 100%, and the levels of red and green are at 0% - but you can impact how much blue is in the reds and greens and blues.

this tutorial explains it well - but imo the best way to get to grips with channel mixer is just to play around with it a bit (sorry)

(when I made this guide for my friend, I also made a slightly more complicated gif colouring walk-through that included using channel mixer. there isn't space to include it within this post, but if anyone is interested I could always upload it as an 'intermediate' gif colouring tutorial - lmk!)

4. troubleshooting

‼️curves

usually with a bit of fucking about a curves layer works well - but sometimes you can’t find a good white and black point anywhere, and instead your gif turns wacky colours and nothing looks good. this happens more often with very heavily colour tinted scenes :(

for example, with this base gif:

using many of the brightest points as a white point turn it wacky colours, like this:

yikes :(

some options for these cases:

try brightening the gif first with the 'auto' button on the curves layer or with a levels layer. having a brighter gif to start with can give you better options for picking a white point.

try finding an alternate, whiter/brighter white point. look for places the light reflects - on this gif, using the light on Porsche's cheekbone works well as the white point. it also helps to find places that would be white if the scene wasn't tinted - the lightest part of a white shirt is often a good place to start, for example.

skip the curves layer, and instead use a levels layer to alter your white/black points, and colour balance or channel mixer to balance the colours.

‼️over/undersaturation

if your gif (especially the skintones) is looking a little washed out or lifeless, it might be undersaturated. boost that saturation - or if that's not working, try a vibrance layer.

oversaturation is often easiest to spot in the mouths and ears of any people in a gif. if the mouths are looking unnaturally, vibrantly red, then you've gone too far with the saturation.

5. fin!

and done! I hope this was coherent helpful to somebody.

if there's anything that I've missed or that doesn't make sense pls feel free to shoot me an ask or a message and I'll do my best to help! I've also collated a bunch of additional reading/resources below.

happy gifmaking 🥰

✨ some links!

photoshop basics by @selenapastel

gifmaking for beginners by @hayaosmiyazaki

gifmaking guide for beginners by @saw-x

dreamy's gif tutorial by @scoupsy-remade (includes instructions on how to blur out burned-on subtitles or annoying video graphics)

beginner's guide to channel mixer by @aubrey-plaza

how to fix orange-washed characters by aubrey-plaza

colour correcting and fixing dark scenes by @kylos

does resampling matter? by usergif

how to put multiple gifs on one canvas by @fictionalheroine

watermarking using actions by @wonwooridul

resource directory by @usergif

[thefallennightmare]

Eternally Grateful-Miracle!Noah Sebastian

*GIF created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: smut, language, fluff.

Summary: Reader refused to take the laptop Noah bought for her, after she specifically asked him to stop spending his money on her. That was, until he wore her down with his tongue.

A/N: Again, this takes place in the Miracle Universe! If you haven't read it, no biggie! You won't be missing too much! But you should really check it out. I've been told once or twice it's a pretty great story.

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @sammyjoeee @thisbicc

“Noah, what is this?” I pointed to the shiny plastic box in my suitcase. 

His head full of fluffy hair popped out of the hotel room bathroom. “What’s what?” 

I pointed to my suitcase again. “That!” 

“Oh,” he muttered while coming up behind me and shrugged. “Whoops.” 

Before he could walk away, I grabbed onto his arm, keeping him in front of me. I could feel the aggravation creeping in. I knew he did it out of his love for me but I specifically told him not to buy this for me. 

“I told you I didn’t need a laptop. Bryan has one for me to use.” 

Noah kissed my forehead. “Think of it as a birthday present.” 

“My birthday is in six months,” I crossed my arms. 

“Christmas present?” he suggested. 

“It's April!” I sighed exasperated while pinching my eyes shut. “When we get back home, please return it. I’ll save up my own money to buy myself one.” 

Noah’s lips parted to speak but there was a knock to our hotel room door, halting whatever he was about to say. When he opened it, Matt stood on the other side while nursing a Celsius. 

“Ready?” 

Bad Omens had a sound check at the venue before the show tonight, the first show of the Europe leg of the tour. 

“Are you coming?” Noah asked after turning back to me. 

I was still angry about the brand new laptop in my suitcase but didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Matt. So instead, I grabbed the camera Bryan gave me and pushed my way past the two guys, ignoring their protests of waiting for them. 

Ever since the fire and losing everything, Noah had made it his mission to buy me things I needed to replace. The necessities were fine but when it came to expensive things, I drew the line. Noah worked hard for his money and I felt terrible to have him spend it on me. 

The entire time of soundcheck, I didn’t say a word to Noah, hoping my silent treatment would show him how angry I was. Deep down, I knew it was a sweet gesture but it was in my stubborn nature to be a brat. 

“Angel,” Noah’s voice came through the microphone. “How does it sound up there?” 

I was standing up in the balconies of the venue because Matt was worried about how the mix would sound this high up. 

“It sounds good, Matt!” I called down to him, who was standing in the sound deck. 

Once again ignoring Noah. 

Then later, after I took my round of pictures, I was sitting on the edge of the stage and looking back at what I took when Noah sat beside me. His long legs swinging off the edge. 

“You’re ignoring me.” 

I hummed, still clicking through the pictures. I stopped on one I took of Noah bending at the knees while holding his microphone. The white tank top he wore always stood out against the tone of his skin. I bit the inside of my cheek when I noticed how thick his muscles were in this position. 

Curse the burning between my legs. Due to the long travel from the States to the U.K, we barely had time alone before dealing with things to get the first night of the tour set up. 

“Y/N,” my voice came out in a low rumble in his chest. “Why can’t you accept the fact that I want to take care of you?” 

“I told you not to buy me one and you did it anyway,” I said, not looking at him yet. 

I knew if I gazed up into those almond eyes I would falter immediately.  

“I wanted to,” Noah said. “Why is the idea of me taking care of you so hard to understand?” 

“Because I’ve been taking care of myself my entire life,” I semi-snapped while jumping off the stage and sauntered off to the green room. 

I knew from the thundering footsteps behind me that Noah was following and when we were alone in the green room, I placed the camera on the couch. 

“Please take it,” he breathed while placing his hands on my hips. 

I pouted, my resolve crumbling. “I feel terrible you spent a lot of money on it. On me.” 

“Angel,” Noah’s thumb grazed over my cheek. “I want to take care of you.” 

“It’s an expensive laptop, Noah. I know how much it cost because I’ve had my eye on it long before the fire,” I admitted. 

He had a playful smirk on his lips as he shook his bangs away from his eyes. “How do you think I knew which one to get you? You’re not very good at hiding things.” 

I scoffed while smacking his chest, causing a rouse of laughter from us, but I wasn’t ready to accept his gift; yet. 

“I don’t know,” I sighed while slowly moving from side to side in his embrace. “You could have used that money for something else. Something for the studio.” 

Noah led me to the couch in the green room, the back of my knees hitting the leather armrest. 

“Take it,” he spoke quietly before getting to his knees. 

When I didn’t say anything right away, he placed his hands behind his back and knelt even farther on the ground, resting his forehead on the toes of my boots. 

“Please, angel. Let me show you how much I want to take care of you.” 

My eyes widened when his long fingers hooked into my leggings, pulling them down to my ankles, and then made me sit on the armrest. The coolness from the leather felt wonderful on my heated skin as Noah spread my legs wide for him. 

“What if someone walks in?” 

He tore his hungry eyes away from my pussy and up to my eyes. “Give them a show, Y/N.” 

I gaped down in shock at him which caused him to give a curt laugh. “I already locked the door.” 

Soon his tongue flicked over my already sensitive clit and my nails quickly found his scalp, yanking him closer to me. 

“I fucking love the way you taste,” he groaned seconds before completely devouring me with his mouth. 

My mewls of pleasure sounded disgustingly loud in the small green room. Noah knew exactly what to do with his tongue to make my body ignite for him. His hair was a mess thanks to my fingers running through it, bucking on the ends to keep him in place. 

“Oh, fuck,” I shook when a finger slipped inside, pumping in and out of my pussy with such speed it made my head spin. 

“Do you want to be a good girl for me, angel?” Noah broke away from my clit to look up at me with wide pupils. 

My arousal coated his lips and I let out a small whimper when I nodded. 

“Then take the laptop,” he ordered before diving back in to enjoy his meal. 

I wrapped my legs around his head as another way to keep him close to me as my orgasm began to build and build. It teetered on the edge of the cliff and with one piercing cry of his name, I came apart. Noah lapped up my juices like a man who had just found water after trekking in the desert for days. 

When I blinked through the haze that danced at the edge of my vision, I noticed Noah was standing in front of me now, lips and chin covered in my wetness, and he held up a finger; a silent command. 

I brought it to my mouth eagerly to lick it clean, humming at how delicious I tasted. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, angel. Fuck,” Noah hissed when my teeth grazed along his finger as he pulled it out of my mouth. 

“Can I repay you for my gift?” I asked with doe eyes while raking my nails down the tattoos on his arms. 

Somehow Noah knew I wasn’t talking about money. 

In one swift motion, we switched positions so he was sitting on the armrest and I was standing in front of him; his large hand resting on top of my head. 

“On your knees, Y/N,” he demanded while pushing me roughly to my knees. 

His cock sprung free when I pulled it out of his black shorts and I wasted no time licking up the precum at the head before swirling it over my tongue. I took his entire length in my mouth and bobbed my head up and down in fast strokes. He always had a tangy yet sweet taste and I purred when the head of his cock hit the back of my throat. 

“Shit!” He hissed and gripped the back of my head. “Right there, angel. Fuck, I’m gonna-.” 

When my hand began playing with his soft balls, I knew he wouldn’t be able to hang on for much longer. With a grunt, his warm cum shot down my throat and I dug my nails into the skin of his thighs. 

“Every.” 

Thrust. 

“Last.” 

Thrust. 

“Drop.”

I did. 

My mouth popped off his dick and I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand before tucking his cock away. 

“I will be eternally grateful for your gift,” I vowed with a kiss to his lips; myself still lingering. 

Noah vibrated as he slowly pulled up my leggings for me just as the door to the green room opened with a distraught-looking Matt.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Noah. What the fuck! We only have ten minutes left before the doors open and your M.I.A.” He took off his hat to shake out his hair.

My gaze snapped away from Matt to Noah. “You told me you locked the door!” 

He winked with a shrug and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Whoops.”

[potionsprefect]

As A Thank You

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 765

Summary: Victoria buys Ethan some special presents

Rating: General Audiences

Category: Fluff

The laptop balanced perfectly on Victoria’s very large belly as she looked on multiple tabs. She had been thinking about this for a while and had decided to do it.

Ethan had been so supportive and loving since they found out Victoria was pregnant. And they were even more excited when they discovered it was twins. Victoria wanted to buy him something as a thank you over the last nine months.

She thought about the things he liked and what he would appreciate, Ethan had become more sentimental since being with Victoria and was much more romantic.

The first thing that came to her mind was a bottle of scotch. Victoria found a website that personalised bottles and she thought it would be a great gift for Ethan. He could keep the bottle afterwards as a reminder. Victoria had added the gift to her basket, a big smile on her face.

“What’s made you so happy?” Ethan said walking into the living room.

“I’m allowed to be happy. We’re expecting not one but two babies.” Victoria laughed.

“Some would say that would terrify them.” Ethan sat down beside her.

“It would to anyone I think. But then it’s replaced with excitement.”

Ethan rested his head against Victoria’s stomach as she quickly shut the laptop and placed it beside her. Victoria loved it when his eyes lit up every time the babies kicked. He couldn’t wait to become a Dad.

“I laid out my paternity leave decision today. And it’s been approved.” Ethan said.

“That’s great! So you’ll be with us till January?” Victoria smiled.

Ethan sat up and put an arm round Victoria. “I will. And there are strict rules not to contact me unless the hospital is on fire.”

“That’s a good one. Hopefully Leland listens.” Victoria replied.

“Something tells me he won’t. So if he calls me at any point for any matter that does not require my input, I shall not hold back on my words.” Ethan said.

“I look forward to hearing you down the phone.” Victoria grinned.

“Hopefully I won’t have to.”

“You’re Ethan Ramsey. Everyone wants you for something. Trivial or not.” Victoria shrugged.

“Well for the next few months they’re not going to get me. The only people that will get my attention are my wife and two children.”

“That’s the right answer.”

Victoria placed the items in a bag with a smile on her face. She couldn’t wait to see Ethan’s face when she showed him the items she has bought for him.

She headed down the stairs, stopping in front of the doorway to the living room, watching Ethan stare at their twins with adoration.

“It gets better the longer you stare at them.” Victoria smiled sitting down beside Ethan.

“I don’t ever want to take my eyes off them.” Ethan said.

“I feel the same. I have something for you.” Victoria placed the bag on her lap.

“I think it’s meant to be me that’s spoiling you instead of the other way round.” Ethan chuckled.

“I know but I wanted to spoil you. I think you deserve to be treated as well.” Victoria said.

“I won’t argue with that.” Ethan reached inside the bag. He pulled out the bottle of scotch, an eyebrow raised. “Very original.”

“It was the first thing I thought of.” Victoria laughed. “You’re too easy like that.”

Ethan pulled out a two items wrapped in pink and blue tissue paper. He tore the paper off. Underneath were photo frames of Ethan holding the twins. Victoria could see small tears in his eyes as he ran a gentle thumb over the photos.

“When were these taken?” Ethan asked.

“I took them over the last few days. I sent them to Sarah who edited them to make them look professional. She said she would do some more for us if we wanted.” Victoria replied.

“That sounds like a good idea. We can never have too many photos. And this.” Ethan picked up the bottle of scotch. “Is going somewhere safe.”

Victoria picked up the photo frames and placed them on the mantelpiece. She smiled at the love that radiated from the photos.

Ethan wrapped his arms around Victoria. “We’ll have many more to put there over the years. Thank you for those presents.”

“You’re welcome. I love our new life.” Victoria smiled.

“Me too.”

Victoria was glad Ethan liked the presents. He deserved to be spoilt for all the help and support he had given Victoria over the last few months.

She couldn’t wait to spoil him for the rest of his life.

Tag list: @ohchoices @swiftiexstarwarssimp @queencarb @genevievemd @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @gryffindordaughterofathena @sophxwithers @romewritingshop @coffeeheartaddict2 @mm2305 @nikki-2406 @maurine07 @nishas-paradise @replayfootsteps @mainstreetreader @lsvdw-blog @kiara-36 @quixoticdreamer16 @udishaman @headoverheelsforramsey @shanzay44 @itsjustamesshonestly @josiesopenheart @mysticalgalaxysstuff @custaroonie @ireneadlerisseggsy @takemyopenheart @kachrisberry @rookiemartin @jamespotterthefirst @a-crepusculo @natureblooms24 @jerzwriter @wanderingamongthewildflowers @rosebudde @lucy-268 @liaromancewriter @bex-la-get @writer-ish @toadfrog26 @tessa-liam @peonierose @cariantha @kyra75 @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[darthvashtique93]

Aftermath

After the Chaos Lords' attack, cleanup became a monumental chore. While alien lizards had wreaked havoc in Gotham, other monsters spewing green vomit terrorized California. Dragons manifested in space, and other creatures—snakes, demons, possessed unicorns, murderous water beings, and etc.—popped out of portals across the globe. Heroes and villains alike fought side by side, but once the chaos subsided, the villains left the cleanup to the heroes, slipping back into their villainous routines.

Midway through the cleanup, Superman and other heroes finally returned from space, providing much-needed help that greatly sped up the process. Heroes with powers to swiftly repair buildings and bridges were dispatched, working round the clock. It took a little less than two weeks to restore order worldwide. Fortunately, the Chaos Lords had only visited Earth and no other nearby worlds.

Things had returned to a semblance of normalcy. Garfield had somehow received personal phone number of the Princess of Vlatava, who was a devoted fan of Tork and a powerful advocate for meta-humans. It definitely didn't hurt that, at one point, Garfield had leaped in front of her to block a blow that never came. Bart joked the princess would soon get over her infatuation with him as soon as her head trauma healed. Raven wasn't so sure. Garfield had eagerly showed her his texts with the queen-to-be. It seemed serious. At t the end of the day, Raven felt relieved that he was slowly moving on from his crush on her.

Presently… Raven drummed her fingers on the table in the school library. In their last therapy session, Dinah had alluded to college—a topic they had breached months earlier. She had, without Dinah's knowledge, submitted applications to Ivy League schools: Metropolis University, Ivy Town University, Empire State University, and Harvard. Sure, her grades were decent, but they weren't Ivy League material.

So why am I looking at a late acceptance email from Hudson University? My grades aren't that good, and Constantine wrote my letter of recommendation. What on Earth could he have written?

After school, Raven instantly teleported into Constantine's mansion. "Raven," Black Orchid greeted her.

"Hello," Raven replied, scanning the room. "Is Constantine here?"

"I believe Ms. Zatanna Zatara has recruited him to help with her magic school. May I be of assistance?"

Raven hesitated. "Well… six months ago, I asked Constantine to write a letter of recommendation for my college applications. I hoped he would screw it up. But I just received a late acceptance email from Hudson University. My grades couldn't have gotten me into any Ivy League college, so I want to see the letter he wrote—see if he added anything magical to it."

"Ah," Black Orchid said, a knowing look crossing her face. "I remember this day well. He had just exorcised a level 5 demon from a little girl, reminding him of one he couldn't save. He wrote it while he was deep in his whiskey. Allow me to locate it." The house shuddered, and a laptop appeared above Orchid's hand. "Allow me," she said, placing her hand on the closed PC. Seconds later, the laptop vanished, replaced by a piece of white paper in her hand. "Here," Black Orchid said, handing the letter to Raven. "Techno-magic," she added.

"Thank you," Raven said, taking the document.

"I watched as Constantine typed in his alcohol-induced state," Orchid continued. "He drunkenly telephoned someone named Tim Drake using techno-magic."

"What?!" Raven exclaimed, her surprise evident.

"Yes, it's a magic that allows technology—"

"I know what techno-magic is," Raven interrupted, staring at the essay in her hand. "I mean—he called Tim?" She read a few sentences, her disbelief deepening. No way he wrote this himself. "Trigondammit," she swore in her native tongue. "Why—I—thank you, Black Orchid," she said gratefully. "I have to go."

"I sense anger and embarrassment. Are you going to kill Constantine?"

"I may have to."

Raven had teleported to the mountain in a huff. She had set her things on her bed and prepared to teleport to Tim's apartment when a sensation hit her. She knew, she just knew, he was in the mountain—specifically, in their gym. So, not in complete control of her emotion, Raven marched through the surprisingly empty mountain. Sensing he was alone in the weight-room, she paused in front of the door and centered herself.

Once she felt her emotions settle, she entered the gym. Honestly, I should have known better, Raven thought in annoyance. She wasn't annoyed that Tim was hanging from a pull-up bar doing inverted sit-ups while holding a crossword puzzle in front of his face. It wasn't even the fact that he was shirtless. No, what annoyed her was that she should have known he was shirtless and mentally prepared herself accordingly. "Trigondamn," she muttered.

"Hey, Raven," Tim greeted without looking at her and without pause. "Our bond must still be in place because I felt you walking down the hall. I can also feel your displeasure at something." He paused and lowered, or lifted, his crossword book from his face. Raven looked away with a flush when he stared at her with his electric blue eyes. Honestly, was it a rule that you had to be considered good-looking for Bruce Wayne to adopt you? The Richard in this universe was still young, but Raven knew what he would look like when he turned 18. Even Jason Todd was shockingly gorgeous, if not obnoxious with an anger problem. Anyway, Raven returned to the present and said, "I received an acceptance email from Hudson University."

"That's amazing," Tim said, still hanging upside down…shirtless…glistening with sweat.

A small part of her wanted to purr at the sight. She swallowed thickly instead. "No," Raven shifted on her feet, "it's not." Tim gave her a curious look. "My grades aren't good enough for an Ivy League university. So, I figured Constantine—who wrote my acceptance letter—must have cast a spell or something." Raven watched as Tim's eyes widened with understanding. "Turns out, you wrote most of it."

"Yeah, he called me," Tim replied. "I don't know how he got my personal number."

"Techno-magic," Raven said.

Tim gave her another questioning look. "Techno-magic? The ability to talk to technology?"

"Something like that," Raven said. That was the one genre of magic she was unsure of.

"That's too simple. Is it technology that runs on magic?"

"Yeah…I guess."

"That is extraordinary. So, Constantine has—"

"No," Raven interrupted him, holding up a finger. "No, you will not go on a tangent or rant until after we have this conversation."

"I'm sorry," Tim apologized, blushing. "Yes, to answer your question. Constantine called me and asked to write your letter of recommendation, but I doubt that's why you got accepted."

"Well, it wasn't my grades."

"I think it was the other letter of recommendation I wrote and handed to the dean at a charity event," Tim admitted nonchalantly, resuming his sit-ups.

Raven's whole body shook with multiple emotions. "Why would you do that?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"Why would you apply to multiple Ivy Leagues and then ask Constantine to write you a letter of recommendation knowing there's an 18.7% chance he'd be blackout drunk while doing so?" Tim paused midway, turned his torso, and looked Raven directly in the eye with a smirk. "It's almost like you were purposefully trying to sabotage your chances of getting into college." Raven opened her mouth to respond to the accusation, but no words came out. "That's what I thought," Tim said, resuming his sit-up.

"Why does it matter to you?" Raven asked. "And can we please talk face-to-face, right side up?" Raven was having a hard time concentrating on their conversation.

"You don't enjoy watching me move?" Tim asked in a manner that could only be described as flirtatious. Raven gave him her best blank stare. "Give me a second," he smiled. Lifting his torso, he held onto the pull-up bar with one hand and undid the straps on his ankles with the other.

Placing his bare feet on the mat, he grabbed his water bottle that was nearby, and Raven looked away as he gulped down mouthfuls of water. "So…why are you upset with me he asked when he was finished drinking.

"I'm not upset with you," Raven turned to him. Now, he was standing in front of her, sweaty, blue eyes looking at her through damp bangs. This is way worse, Raven thought as she struggled to keep her eyes on his. I should have waited until he was done working out to have this conversation. "I'm not upset with you," Raven repeated. "I'm just wondering why?"

"Why were you trying to sabotage your chance at receiving a higher education?"

"Tim," Raven gasped as he took a step closer to her. Suddenly, she didn't know what to do with her hands. She couldn't pull her hood over her head, she was still wearing her school uniform. "I'm interrupting your workout," she muttered. Is my voice shaking? "I-I-I should go," Raven said, taking a small step back.

"Raven," Tim caught her soft hand in his rough one. Raven looked at their joined hands. "You're shaking," Tim said, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb.

Raven's breath caught in her throat as her heart raced and heat coiled low in her belly. She was weakening under the intensity of his gaze, and her mouth was suddenly dry. "Yeah…it's cold in here," she said, suddenly dizzy. "I should go get a sweatshirt."

"I don't think so," Tim said breathlessly, before pulling her into his body. His free hand went to the back of her neck as he pulled her into a kiss. Instead of freezing like she had the first time, Raven responded instantly. Tim's mouth was hot and insistent against hers, though his lips remained soft. The world around her dissolved as she opened herself up to him. The warmth in her stomach exploded and Raven became hot all over when he yanked the ponytail holder from her hair, tossing it somewhere. T

he kiss deepened, growing more fervent as Tim tilted his head, tangling his tongue with hers. Raven wasn't sure which one of them moaned, but the vibration against her mouth sent shivers down her spine. Tim released her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist, crushing her to him, and Raven could feel his heart racing in his chest. His hand then inched up her spine, sending jolts of electricity through her body. Raven wanted to get even closer to him as this unfamiliar need arose in her. Sucking on his lower lip, Raven could taste the salt of his sweat.

Barely pulling away, Tim, their lips still tenderly brushing each other, Tim maneuvered them over to one bench in the gymnasium. Sitting down, Tim tenderly pulled Raven onto his lap so she was straddling him. Settling onto his lap, Raven gasped, and before she could register what she was feeling, Tim pulled her into a deeper kiss. While his fingers carded through her hair, his other hand worked its way beneath her sweater, still on her shirt. Raven could sense his desire to go further, as well as his hesitation to go too far. He was so sweet, but even half-demons like her needed air. Raven eased the intensity of her kisses, and Tim followed her lead. Eventually, they were both resting their foreheads against each other, panting. What did I just do? Raven pulled away to look into his eyes, but something happened. She was no longer looking into intense blue eyes; she was staring into angry green ones. "How could you do that to me? I trusted you!" Wally screamed.

"Wally," Richard said warningly, placing himself protectively in front of Raven. "Wally, let her explain."

"Was any of it real?" Wally cried, ignoring his best friend. "Any of it?" Raven sucked in a breath as her tears continued to fall. She wrapped her arms around herself. "Do you even love me?"

"Yes," Raven looked at him desperately, "I do. That's why I told you the truth."

"And how am I supposed to trust anything you say?"

"I'm sorry," Raven apologized. "I was desperate. The Justice League had just sent me away. I didn't know anyone else. I knew I wouldn't be able to get to Richard."

"So, you manipulated my emotions?"

"I was afraid you'd turn me away, too."

"I wouldn't have."

"Really? Can you honestly say if I came begging for help–if I came to you saying an interdimensional demon war lord was on his way here, and I was his daughter–you would have dropped everything and helped me?"

"Well, I guess we'll never know. You took away any choice I had in the matter."

"Raven?"

Raven blinked once.

"I think…you're not used to having full control of your emotions," Nightwing said to her. "I think you've been manipulating mine." Raven stiffened. "Not on purpose," Nightwing quickly added. "Not on purpose, but I think the feelings you're feeling…the feelings I'm feeling…are somehow coming from you. Think about it."

Raven frowned and thought. Is this what Kori was trying to tell her? Nightwing was right. Was that all this was? An overzealous crush holding so much emotion it spilled over and was affecting Nightwing negatively? Her frown deepened the longer she thought about it. It did and didn't make sense to her. Turning to Nightwing, she prepared a question but paused. She was 21, but likely had the emotional maturity of a 4-year-old being that a couple of months ago she wasn't able to fully embrace emotion without Trigon taking over. And…what she did to Wally years before was always present in her mind. Biting her lip, she realized Nightwing was right. It was just a crush with overflowing emotion affecting those around him. And it was only affecting Nightwing because they'd been hanging out nearly every day. He was right. This isn't love.

Raven blinked again. "Raven?" Tim called her name, this time placing a hand on her face. "I'm right here, Raven." Raven blinked, her body and mind returning to the present. She was staring at a very confused Tim…sitting on his lap. Oh my gosh, I'm on his lap, her body tensed as she began to panic.

"Raven?" he said her name again. Raven blinked as her body and mind fully returned to the present. "Are you okay?" he asked, genuine worry on his face.

"Omigosh," she gasped before quickly scrambling off his lap. "It's happening again."

"What's happening again?" Tim asked, remaining seated.

"I think I may be influencing you by accident."

Tim furrowed his brow as he stared at her inquisitively. "What do you mean?"

"I think…I wanted you to kiss me so bad that…I accidentally affected your emotions."

"Excuse me?" he asked with a cocked brow.

"I may have accidentally manipulated you into kissing me."

"Wait," Tim's face remained serious, but Raven could sense the amusement radiating from him, "you're saying I wanted to kiss you because you wanted me to kiss you? That you accidentally forced me to kiss you?"

"Yes," Raven sighed.

"You're serious?"

Raven nodded. She then watched as Tim tried and failed to hold back a laugh. Now I'm confused. Tim laughed like Raven had just cracked a joke. And the sound did something to Raven's stomach. I love his laugh. Crap. Raven blinked and frowned at Tim. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Tim gasped between laughs. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at…Raven, no one forced me to kiss you. I kissed you because I wanted to."

"Tim…"

"No," he smiled as he stood to his feet, "I know my mind. Trust me, I know what it feels like to be manipulated. You did not manipulate me."

"But you kissed me," Raven stressed.

"Yeah," Tim said, humor dancing in his eyes. "Because I wanted to." He held her gaze, watching as confusion crossed her face and she took a small step back. It was almost like—his eyes widened. "Raven…did something or someone…?" Tim paused. He didn't know how to word the question. "Raven," he said, reaching for her hands, linking their fingers. "I like you. And it's not because of your powers." He saw disbelief and confusion cross her face. "I've felt your touch in my head," he continued softly, "I'd recognize if you were doing something in there. Raven…?" Tim was trying to make sense of what Raven just said. "Did something like that happen to you?" Tim knew he hit the nail on the head when Raven's face tightened. She looked down and away, and her arms wrapped around her torso in a show of vulnerability. His heart cracked. "Raven, is it so hard—what happened?"

"Nothing," Raven closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Nothing. It was a mistake…I was mistaken. I'm sorry," Raven tried to brush past him, but Tim's hand shot out. He wrapped his hand around her wrist. "Wait," he said softly. "Raven, is it so hard to believe that someone may like you…for you?"

Raven gradually turned her head to look at him. Her heart raced in her chest as she stood captivated by Tim's beautiful eyes. "Raven," Tim closed the distance between them. He cupped her face in his hands and stared deep into her eyes and asked her pointblank. "Raven, are you using your powers to manipulate me in any way, shape, or form?"

Tim's face became blurry as tears formed in Raven's eyes. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Why am I crying? She felt Tim's thumbs move as he wiped the tears away. "I…" Raven began in a broken voice. Her shoulders slumped. Admitting this would only bring back painful memories. But, she could sense Tim's emotions—his sincerity, his kindness, his lo—I can't lie to him. "No," she whispered, "I'm not using my powers on you."

"Were you using them on me that night I kissed you?" he asked kindly.

"No," Raven admitted tearfully.

"And were you using them on me just now?" he asked softly.

"No," Raven said.

"Well, if you weren't using your powers on me, that means my feelings for you are genuine. That means, that night, I wanted to kiss you. And, if the TV hadn't broken," he chuckled, "I would have kissed you longer, harder, and deeper…the way I just kissed you now."

"Tim," Raven gasped.

"I don't know what happened on your world all those years ago…but, Raven, my feelings for you are genuine. They're mine. No one is manipulating me, least of all you." He looked at Raven with a gentle gaze. Raven's heart raced. She didn't know what to say about that. Because if Tim liked her just for her, that would be mean…that would mean…Raven looked up at Tim with wonder. He likes me! "I…" she backed away. "I have to go. I'm sorry. I have to check…something," she said.

"Are you okay?" Tim asked, instantly worried.

"I'm fine…or…um…I will be. I just…I don't know what I'm feeling. I…need to go…."

"It's okay, I get it," Tim nodded. "I understand. I'll see you later…okay?"

"Okay."

Raven marched into the House of Mystery and Black Orchid greeted her. "Hello again, Raven," she greeted. "Something is wrong. You are…frazzled."

"I am, but…I need to see an old friend, and I'm not sure how long it will take. Can you let John know? I will have my communicator on me if there's an emergency. I just need…" tears gathered in her eyes again. I'm falling apart.

Black Orchid placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It is okay, Raven," she smiled comfortingly. "Do what you need to do."

Dick smiled at his phone, cooing at the screen as he listened to his wife. "And remember…formula. The blue canister with the bunny on it, not the red one." He curved his lips into a grin, but the moment was interrupted as he sensed something off—he was being followed. "What's wrong?"

"I am being followed."

"Old habits die hard," his wife replied, her voice light with humor.

"Apparently," he chuckled. "Alright. I'm gonna go have a chat with my stalker."

"Be careful, Dick."

"I will, Babs. I'll see you in a bit. Bye, John," he cooed at the baby before ending the call. Taking a deep breath, he approached the alley, feeling a mix of dread and determination. "Bad idea, Dick, bad idea. You promised you would stop. You're a family man now."

"Talking to yourself? That's a nasty habit," a voice emerged from the darkness. "Stupidly entering a dark alley alone? Tsk. Tsk."

The familiarity of the voice made Dick freeze. No way, he thought. As a figure stepped out of the shadows, his heart raced. She looked different—her face youthful yet hauntingly familiar. There was no doubt in Dick's mind; it was Raven—the teammate he had sort of buried ten years ago. "What would Batman think?" she smiled, a teasing glint in her eye.

"Raven?" He breathed her name in disbelief, emotions welling in his chest, threatening to overwhelm him.

"Hello, Richard," she replied with a small, almost nervous, smile. "It's been a while. Have you missed me?"

[envihellbender]

I think M and C should have a fight with their fat

Rating: Mature

Fandom: James Bond (Spectre)

Characters: M, C

Content: Extreme weight gain, feedee meets feedee, fat fighting, bellies

Summary: C attempts to mark his territory, M gets in the way.

—

“Mister Maximilian Denbigh is in the building, Sir,” Ms Moneypenny said nervously, and for good reason. His presence had been known to mean department lay offs and replacements, there had been talk of the possibility for a while.

“Thanks for the warning,” M replied, he sighed in frustration but maintained his attention on his laptop. It rested on his plentiful breasts and despite this information distracting him, he continued typing after Moneypenny returned to her desk, and heavy footsteps began slowly waddling down the hall towards M’s office. They were far louder and dragged much more than M had anticipated, and the wheezing voice seemed out of place when Denbigh greeted Moneypenny. M typed with his bloated fingers as he heard the door open, he frowned and closed the lid, pushing it to the side and looking up.

“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure… C, now, is it?” M asked, he didn’t get to his feet - it was far too difficult for his legs to take his weight at the best of times. That may have made Denbigh look far bigger, but M was amazed all the same. Last time they met C was plump - thick thighs and a round stomach. Now however, Denbigh was causing the floorboards to creak and his belly hung out of his white shirt over his knees which strained desperately over his pale flesh. He had a heavy duty rollator that he controlled from the front whilst the back padded, reinforced seat took his weight. If M had to guess, he would say C had gone from 350lbs to 720. Quite an admirable feat.

“C or Denbigh will do. I thought it was worth checking in,” C wheezed, his overgrown paws were screwed into bloated fat balls similar to gigantic dumplings - the price of not wanting to ask for a seat. “Considering we’ll be working together soon.” His rollator groaned as C put all of his weight onto the seat.

“Mm, well, yes. Good of you to check in,” M narrowed his eyes - the grey irises poking out behind bloated cheeks. He wheezed and groaned as he shifted, his reinforced armless office chair was remarkably comfortable but was difficult to move around on. He made a point of looking C up and down, as if he didn’t inspect every millimetre of Denbigh’s gargantuan body from the moment he came into view. M’s plump lips spread into a wry grin. “Goodness, you’ve been doing well for yourself, C.”

“You seem surprised.” C sounded irritated, M noticed the hint of a neglected child inside the mass of adipose, he’d been underestimated and he despised it. “I half expected someone from your unit to be wasting taxpayers money stalking me.” A snide comment, but M knew there was a hint of hope in it.

“Clearly my department have not been quite so thorough as I’d hope,” M shrugged his fat slabs that had once been defined shoulders.

“Well, perhaps that’s a sign that the entire department needs reorganising.” C was not subtle, he did not succeed in playing games, and M had very little time for it.

“Hm, I have to I say I disagree.” M sat back and folded his swollen arms across his plentiful chest stubbornly.

“How much do you weigh, M?” C asked suddenly, M’s arms that had finally become comfortable dropped to his sides as his body rippled and shook as he was so taken aback.

“What does that have to do with anything?” M snapped, feeling as if his privacy was being invaded. If C thought he was fatter than M, well, M couldn’t help but think that was certainly a sign of C’s arrogance and cluelessness.

“Curiosity. It’s a sign of how much time has been dedicated to your work, don’t you think?”

“Office work, perhaps.”

“Everything now can be done remotely,” C began, moving with his rollator closer to M, until his front wheels were parallel with M’s desk. “You know, with the right setup I can make this department more secure and powerful than ever. The envy of the world.”

“I am not sure having all eyes on us will end well. If you will give me a moment.” M prepared himself to stand, grunting as he built up moment in his adipose ridden arms. Normally, he used his wheelchair to get around, which was with Ms Moneypenny until it was needed. As such M had the desk reinforced exponentially so he could lean on it as he got to his feet, that was what he did that afternoon, he wheezed and groaned as he did. He spluttered and shook back and forth, exhausted from the slight movement.

“Good, I was hoping you’d stand, you look smaller sat,” C declared. He rolled his rollator forwards, pushing it into M’s desk as C closes the difference between them. Their guts were almost rushing against each other, the heat between both becoming overwhelming. As M was about to speak, C pushed his gut forwards. It slammed into M’s causing his bloated paws to grab the desk to steady himself.

“This is rather immature of you,” M wheezed. Despite this however he still slammed his girth forwards in retaliation, shoving force into both his stomach and chest. C was taken by surprise, he gripped his rollator to stop himself from falling, wheezing and shaking as he did.

“Some muscle under that adipose, isn’t there?” C croaked, his accent slipping slightly with the exertion.

“Mhm, it’s why I can still walk and throw my weight around with significantly better aim than you, C,” M growled. With one final heaving motion he slammed C down onto the ground, his walker breaking underneath their combined weight, their fat merging into a pile, over a ton between them and all C could see was fat that he could not parse for his own or for M’s. The beast guarding the tower had made his move, and all the hero could do was feel the floorboards groan and protest beneath him, begging for them to hold the two.

[addywolpertinger]

Flowers and Feathers - Pt. 1

      Addy the wolpertinger (she was honestly just a fancy type of rabbit) sat in the local coffee shop, typing away on her laptop, trying to get caught up on her work. She was an English professor and was trying to grade her latest round of essays. Most of them were good, some average, while others you could tell they hadn’t even attempted to follow the instructions.Those were the ones that gave her the most difficulty, having to wade through the logic puzzles to make sense of tireless babble.        With a sigh, Addy glanced up and sipped on her oatmilk latte, her eyes scanning the small front room of the cafe. Without thinking, her eyes landed on a male siamese cat a few tables over, also working on paperwork and mumbling quietly to himself. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. Where had she seen him before? She took in the dark color of his spots, the creamy whiteness of his fur, his slim build snugly covered by a red turtleneck, and the brown leather jacket draped over the chair behind him. Sensing that someone was watching him, he glanced up, and his dark blue eyes met hers. He smiled and gave a little wave, jolting her out of her thoughts.        Blinking, Addy blushed and gave a little wave back, before mouthing a quick “sorry.” With his smile still in place, the cat stood, gathered his things, and expertly closed the distance between them.        “Mind if I sit here?” he asked, a soft purr to his voice, as he gestured to the empty seat beside her, “I do believe I’ve seen you around somewhere before….”        Addy nodded, stunned into silence from his politeness, and quickly moved to clear him off a spot at her table. “I dunno, maybe. I come to this coffee shop a lot. And I’m the only wolpertinger in town.”        “Wolpertinger.” He said the word as if he was studying it, considering every angle and sound and meaning. “And no, that’s not it. Don’t you work for the university?”        Addy looked at him, alarmed, as he settled into his chair and straightened his workload on the table. Sensing her concern, he merely smiled and held his paws up, as if to show he meant no harm. “Relax, it’s alright. I work there, too. We both work in the Liberal Arts department. I recognized you the moment I walked in the door, Addy.”        Although lop-eared, Addy’s ears perked up at the mention of her name. Her doe-eyed expression only served to humor the sly cat in front of her. He burst out laughing and shook his head.        “Come on now, surely you know who I am. Bruce? The librarian?” When Addy blinked at him, he continued, “I came to your class last semester to teach your kiddos about the wonders of the library. If I recall correctly, you knocked me over with one of your wings when neither of us were paying attention.”        The pallor under the blue fur of Addy’s cheeks was whisked away, replaced with a hot blush. “Oh my gosh. Bruce. Yes. I remember now. I’m so sorry.” She lifted a pink paw to her face and covered her equally pink muzzle with it. “How could I forget? Let me buy you a coffee to apologize.”        “For forgetting me or knocking me on my ass?” Bruce laughed, then waved a brown paw. “No need. All is forgiven.” He paused, scanning over her work. “How’s the semester going? Is that little shit from last semester still giving you any trouble? I swear, I wanted to throttle the creep for the way he talked to you in class.” Addy shrugged and glanced down, tracing the rim of her coffee cup with her paw. “Things are going as well as can be expected. He tried to get me fired. Didn’t like my opinion on things and thought he knew more about writing than me. Didn’t help that his parents were friends with the dean. Had to go in and have a talk with Dr. Stoneridge about my ‘professionalism’ after I told the kid how privileged he was. He was sitting there mocking two other kids with learning disabilities. In a college classroom. In my classroom. I wouldn’t stand for it. Yet I was the one who received a talking to about professionalism…” Addy scoffed and took another sip of her latte. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Bruce’s claws lightly dig into the wood of the table.        He shook his head, making a tsk sound with his tongue, then looked back at Addy, capturing her attention. “And that’s why I spend my hours in the back of the library. Nothing but peace and quiet and the occasional question from the library aides. No bullshit. No arrogant children. Just books and words and silence.” He sipped on his own black coffee, then gave Addy a warm smile. “I do hope the rest of your semester has been alright. I was waiting to see if you’d invite me back to teach again.”        “Oh. I um… well, after knocking you down and all…” Addy blushed again and trailed off, glancing nervously back towards her work.        “As I said before, it’s quite alright.” Bruce paused, then glanced down at his coffee, an idea forming. “Hey, why don’t we forget about work for a while and go get something stronger?”        “Stronger?”        “Yeah, there’s a pub down the road a bit. We can walk there and have a drink. Maybe a spot of dinner, too.”        Addy smiled and met his dark blue gaze again. “Yes, I think I’d like that.”

[ericspinkhair]

teasing the teacher

pairing: teacher!younghoon x fem student!reader

synopsis: y/n teases her teacher with a pink dildo and he takes her on his desk

word count: 2k

warnings: teacher/student sex, masturbating in class, dildos, cum on face, fingering, oral

a/n: please don't actually have sex with your teachers!

requests are open!!

masterlist + requests

from the moment he stepped into the math classroom on the first day of senior year and introduced himself as 'mr. kim' you knew you wanted him.

he was tall, handsome and naturally charismatic so it was no surprise that many of the lower class students had a crush on him. whispers followed him through the halls and you'd often hear girls say out loud the same inappropriate thoughts you were having.

you showed up to math class regularly which was something you never had done as you didn't see how knowing how to solve the quadratic formula was going to benefit you in your life.

you spent the lessons studying mr. kim and, from his youthful complexion and attitude, figured he couldn't be much older than you. he was maybe 23? 24? you didn't concern yourself with it. you were of age and sought for someone more mature to fulfill your needs.

in his black collared shirt and tailored pants, he was looking like a real snack today and you stared at him from your seat, devouring this man with your eyes. he caught you staring and you thought he'd avert his gaze but, to your surprise, he looked you up and down, lingering at your cleavage for a moment, before he smirked.

even when you were working on questions on your own, you could feel him observing you. you made sure to bite your lip and wet it with your tongue to look as seductive as possible. when you left the classroom, you noticed that he had placed a jacket over his lap.

knowing that your strategy to get his attention was working, you figured out a plan over the weekend. he was clearly attracted to you but since he was your teacher you couldn't just go up to him and be like 'hey, wanna fuck?' no, you needed him to make the first move and you were going to make sure he was.

you dressed up in a tiny skirt that ended at the middle of your thigh and in order to prevent unwanted attention you wore safety shorts underneath. your denim jacket covered up a white cropped shirt with a zipper stretched over the chest.

before math class, you removed the shorts in the bathroom and stored them in your bag. the next step was risky but essential in your plan to seduce mr. kim so you took a deep breath and prepared yourself.

when you sat down in your seat, you made sure to pull the zipper all the way down so that the inner sides of your breasts were mostly exposed. you didn't need to worry  since you were the only one sitting in the back row and no one would see.

an exam was coming up so you had time to practice today and mr. kim was just sitting at his desk, watching over the students while doing something on his laptop. everyone was, more or less, engaged in the work and he let himself focus on you. he noticed how your shirt was barely holding your boobs which were threatening to spill out. he had never seen a girl as sexy and bold as you and felt his dick harden in his pants. you noticed him looking and what you did next sent a sudden rush directly to his cock.

you spread your legs apart, revealing something round and pink between your legs. you gave him a clear view of your vagina clutching onto a huge dildo.

you looked him dead in the eyes as you grabbed the base and slightly pulled it out halfway just to ease it back in. you repeated this action multiple times, grabbing your tits with the other hand and gave him a show by massaging and squeezing them.

lust clouded his eyes and he licked his lips. his tight pants were restraining his painfully hard cock and there was nothing he could do to get relief while he was in class. he tried to concentrate on what he had been doing on the laptop again but it was difficult when all he wanted to do was to replace the dildo with his cock and fuck you into oblivion.

you saw how worked up you had gotten him and decided to push him over the edge. you pulled out the dildo and sucked on it while keeping direct eye contact. you let your tongue graze over the tip before fucking your mouth with it.

after what felt like hours of torture for your teacher, your shenanigans were interrupted by the bell.

'okay, class. pack your things and go,' mr. kim urged the students.

you quietly slipped the dildo back inside and stood up to join your friend. she gave you an amused look. she was aware of everything that was happening since you had shared your plans with her in advance.

you wanted to frustrate mr. kim even further so you ignored him and passed his desk nonchalantly.

'y/n, wait! I need to talk to you.' you inconspicuously fist bumped your friend and turned around.

'how can I help you, mr. kim?' you asked, batting your eyelashes, acting all innocent. he rolled his eyes.

as soon as the last person had stepped outside, he locked the door.

'what do you think you're doing, wearing no underwear and masturbating in my class? you have violated school policy and I can't let you get away with that so easily.' the tent in his trousers was huge and there was a small wet spot where his pre-cum had leaked through. he stepped closer to you and you backed up against the wall.

'you do need to punish me, sir,' you admit. you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down so that your lips were brushing against his ear. 'I've been a bad girl.'

he pinned both of your wrists to the wall behind you and forced his mouth onto yours. you smirked into the kiss, knowing you had succeeded, and opened your mouth to grant him easy access. he slipped in his tongue and began exploring the insides.

he pressed himself hard against you so that your stiff nippels grazed his chest through your shirt. his solid length burned against your lower belly and, when you moved against it, he let out a groan.

'on the desk. now,' he ordered and dragged you by the wrist. he pushed his hand down on your upper back to bend you over and you obliged more than happily.

he jerked the skirt up to expose your dildo filled pussy. you moaned loudly as he spanked your right butt cheek. he watched it jiggle in fascination.

'count,' he ordered you and spanked the other side.

'two,' you heavily breathe out. this dominant side of him was a bit unexpected and every slap made your muscles clench around the fake dick stuck deep inside you.

'three, four,' you cried out as he left red marks on both sides, soothing them afterwards by rubbing gently.

every time his hand came down, the volume of your moans increased. by 'ten', mr. kim had enough of this.

'you seem to be enjoying your punishment a bit too much, y/n,' he pointed out. 'time to move on.'

you suddenly felt empty as he took out the dildo swiftly. you gasped as your arousal began running down your thighs. mr. kim knelt down and licked it away. you raised one leg and placed it on the desk, fully exposing your pussy to him.

'so desperate,' he mumbled and began tracing your folds.

he eased two of his fingers inside and your hole swallowed them effortlessly. he pumped them in and out in a steady, fast rhythm, listening to the desperate sounds coming from both your vagina, as well as from your mouth. your upper body rested on the hard surface as your teacher was fingering you good. unlike all of the other guys you had been with, he knew what he was doing and moved his fingers in a way that quickly brought you close to your orgasm.

he didn't let you have it though.

when he pulled his dripping fingers out, you turned around and sank to your knees. you made quick work with his belt and soon pulled down his pants and underwear to his ankles. his cock was an angry red, waiting impatiently for you to end its torture.

you heard a sharp intake of breath as you put it in your mouth and started sucking. mr. kim grabbed your hair tightly to guide you; it did hurt a bit but it mostly turned you on even further. you took him as far as you could, hollowing your cheeks to avoid brushing against it with your teeth.

his cum tasted salty and made you even more thirsty for him. you wanted to savor more of his aroma but he pulled out after not too much time.

he made you stand up, grabbed your butt cheeks and lifted you onto the desk. your legs hugged his torso tightly and his hard dick stood proud in front of your entrance.

'you still have time to change your mind,' mr. kim informed you. he reminded himself that he had to ask you for your consent before he were to do something you didn't want to.

you, however, were sure you needed him and pushed his tip inside by pulling him closer with your legs.

both of you moaned loudly as he fully slid inside you, filling you up to the brim. you were so tight for him that he had to force himself to start slow in order not to come right here and there.

mr. kim pulled down the cleavage of your shirt so that your naked tits bounced out. he massaged and pinched your nipples as he pounded into you. your tongues were fighting for dominance and he could taste himself on you. you couldn't get enough of his sweet lips.

'look how desperate you are for your teacher. clenching around his cock like this.' his dirty words sent shivers through your spine.

you wove your fingers into his hair and gently tugged at it as your walls tightened around him.

feeling that you were close, mr. kim picked up the speed, sucking purple bruises on your neck.

your threw your head back and hard wrenching spasms stole your ability to move and think. you leaned against his heaving chest and nibbled on his earlobes.

'fuck,' he cursed. he lifted you down to the ground and stroked his dick in fast motions. you knelt to taste his cum as he finally exploded with a satisfied groan.

most of it landed in your mouth and the rest ran down your cheeks or was caught in your eyelashes. you swallowed the sticky substance and licked your lips to reach more of his load.

mr. kim panted heavily and had his eyes closed while trying to calm down his breathing. when he opened them again he saw his cum dripping down your face and quickly went to get you a paper towel.

'clean that up properly. no one can know what happened.' suddenly he felt a rush of panic.  if anyone were to find out that he had slept with a student, he was going to be fired. he couldn't lose the job he had just started.

'don't worry,' you assured him as you wiped your lashes clean. 'as long as you'll write me an excuse for why I'm late for my next class everything will be fine.'

you turned around to leave but he held you back by grabbing your hand.

'don't do this during lessons again. if you want me to fuck you, just tell me and we can arrange something outside of class.'

'sure thing,' you said and winked at him as you stepped outside.

[marginalmadness]

Summer Nights: 2/4

Pairing: Rabbit!Hybrid Jungkook x Y/N

Rating: Mature (later explicit)

Genre: Hybrid!Fantasy, Romance, Fluff

Synopsis: A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long…will it?

Warnings/Tags: This chapter involves Jungkook going into heat.

Author’s Note: If I called @johobi​ patient before, I fucked up the tenses to bad in this chapter, it took her HOURS to fix. But she approved of the chapter which I’m happy about because this is the one I was most worried about. Jungkook Goes into heat in this chapter, and I hope nobody wants to kill me when they finish it.  Chapter 3 is only a week away! <3

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Tags: @kookiebunny97​ @mintyrae​ @skswriting​ 

Word Count: 5.6K

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only. The events depicted here are entirely of my own imagining, and have no basis on actual people or events.

I hope everyone is enjoying BE, and Life Goes On.

Summer Nights: Chapter Two

The next morning is the first day of your new-new normal. You wake to the sound of music coming from the living room. You pull yourself to your feet, shuffling from your bed to find the sourc

The next morning is the first day of your new-new normal. You wake to the sound of music coming from the living room. You pull yourself to your feet, shuffling from your bed to find the source of the enchanting sound. To your shock and delight, you find Jungkook hopping around the kitchen happily, ears and hair bouncing as he sings along to the radio and prepares pancakes. His voice is divine. You stand there enraptured, caught under his spell. He drops the spatula in fright when he turns to find you leaning against the wall, watching him silently.

 “Please continue,” you urge him. But he shakes his head, blushing and hiding behind his ears. “Your voice is so pretty. Please?” you coax, stepping towards him. Jungkook considers you from behind his ears for a second. Then, tentatively, he picks up the spatula and resumes his song while he washes it clean.

 From that day onwards, he wakes you each morning the same way, voice drifting through the bedroom door he leaves slightly ajar. There’s always a stack of warm, fluffy pancakes waiting for you in the kitchen, and beside it a bowl of yogurt-drizzled fruit. As soon as you’re seated, Jungkook extends a freshly brewed cup of breakfast tea to you. You eat together in the early morning light, the radio playing in the background. And while you get ready for work, Jungkook cleaned up the dishes from breakfast. 

 Domestic heaven. 

At the end of your work day, you come home and thank God he’s still there. Sometimes he’s typing away on your laptop. Jungkook signed up as a freelance transcriber as a way to make money while staying with you. It was something to do while you were at work, too, restless soul that he is.  Sometimes, though, you come home to find him flopped on his side in a patch of sun, having a nap as a bunny. 

You cook dinner together now. Well, when you say together, you mean you take his direction, since Jungkook is a much better cook than you. He uses some of his free time to look up recipes he thinks you’ll like. 

It’s ridiculously heartwarming. 

After dinner, as is your routine, you split the washing up and curl up together to watch some Netflix. On the days you do all the washing up, Jungkook doesn’t fight you for control of the TV. 

You still tease him over the first and only time you watched a horror movie. The first jump-scare forced him into rabbit form and he leapt into your lap in fright. Jungkook spent the entire movie there, shivering. And the rest of the night he spent pressed against your side in a tight, furry ball. Of course, the next day he insisted he wasn’t that scared, he just didn’t want to bother you by transforming back and forth.

He did a similar thing when you were watching a sappy romantic movie, but you don’t tease him about that. The second you noticed him sniffling at the lovers’ separation, he turned into a rabbit and hopped off his chair and over to you. You expected him to come cuddle, but he scrambled onto the back of the sofa and situated himself by your head instead. Every time there was a particularly romantic moment, he would nudge you with his nose and tickle you with his whiskers. And when he was feeling particularly bold, he’d grip your shoulder with his front claws and rub his chin over your cheek and neck. It tickled so much it made you squirm. 

After extricating yourself from his clutches, a quick search on the internet told you that rabbits do this to mark their territory. You have trouble looking him in the eye the rest of that day. You know he’s attracted to you; have done since that first night. But he’s been ever so respectful. For some reason, the thought of him marking you as his makes your skin flush and burn.

Shopping for groceries is an experience, too. Jungkook skips around the store, picking multiple things up, asking you if you like them before throwing them in the shopping cart. It doesn’t matter whether you need them or not, just if you like it. That’s good enough for Bun. He’s so happy and energetic, his smile wide and eyes sparkling until you bend over into a freezer to pick up some ice cream. When you turn back, Jungkook is clinging to the cart, his eyes wide and entire body stock-still. All but his foot as it wildly pounds the ground.

“You okay, Bun?” you ask with a tilt of your head. His mouth drops open into a shape as round as his eyes. Mimicking you, Jungkook tilts his head before blinking and shaking it. And then he coughs, practically vibrates, before muttering something about cereal and running off in the opposite direction of the cereal. 

Ever since that peculiar day, Jungkook has insisted on going grocery shopping alone. Something about getting out of the house and becoming more independent. But he blushes and averts his eyes as he says it, foot tapping wildly until he kicks over a plant pot. He cleans up the mess without another word, chewing on one of its stricken leaves and purposefully avoiding your eyes for the rest of the day.

Your weekends become different too. Before Bun arrived, you’d spent them relaxing after your work week, alone and in peace. Now you have a tiny, demanding rabbit that follows you around your apartment, tripping you up. And now you also have a fully grown, demanding man. A roommate - for lack of a better word - with which to do things. Now you have Saturday walks in the park and Sunday brunches. Imagine that.

 Jungkook is incredibly physical. Forever moving, rarely still, bouncing from foot to foot, wiggling when excited. When you praise him, he claps and dances. The day you get a promotion at work, he hugs you so tightly, lifting you up and spinning you in the air because he’s simply that happy. He binkies about in excitement just as much as he did in bunny form, long hair and floppy ears bouncing wildly as his eyes crinkle in happiness, sending things flying in his excitement. You’ve already replaced one particular lamp three times.

But then Jungkook starts marking his territory in human form, too.

You’re chopping something for dinner on some nondescript day when Jungkook approaches you from behind, hands sliding gently over your hips. You could shake him off easily if you wanted to. But you find yourself not wanting to. His chin rests on your shoulder as though he’s just watching you work, but then the subtle rub starts. Across your shoulder and into the crook of your neck, until an involuntary shudder runs down your spine. It snaps Jungkook back to his senses and he pulls away.

—-

The day everything changed was the day from hell. Work had been awful, just one fuck up after another. None of which were even your fault, but all of which you were expected to fix.

You come home to a tidy apartment, subtle scented candles burning and soft music playing. Jungkook is in the kitchen cooking, and you’re sure the ingredients you can smell are ones he’s shopped for today.

“Welcome home.” He smiles over his shoulder at you. “Dinner is almost done if you want to get washed up.” He turns back to stir the pan on the stove. When you walked through the front door you were on the verge of tears. Now your eyes are misting up for the complete opposite reason.

You drag your sorry ass over to him and practically collapse against his wide, strong back, wrapping your arms around his tiny waist like he often does you.

“Thank you,” you practically sob into his shirt, screwing your eyes closed in an effort to not actually cry. You try to keep the emotion out of your voice but Jungkook knows you well enough to sense you’re upset by something. He immediately switches off the stove burners and turns to wrap his arms tightly around you, holding you without a second thought.

 “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, voice full of concern. Large, strong hands brush the hair back from your face.

 “I just had a really shit day, and you just—” You turn, arms flailing, motioning to the clean apartment and dinner on the stove. Jungkook nods in understanding. “—you made it all better.” His eyes go round as he blinks at you in shock, before melting into something warm. He tucks your hair behind your ears and tilts your head as he moves in, as though he were going to kiss you. Your eyes flutter closed as his nose brushes yours, but his lips never touch yours. “What’s this?” you ask in a whisper, blinking your eyes open to find him smiling at you softly.

 “A rabbit thing,” he says simply, resting his forehead against yours with a soft grunt of air. It doesn’t quite reach a growl. You know it's a rabbit thing; you researched. But you didn’t expect it in human form.

 “Okay.” You don’t push, don’t demand an explanation for a deeper meaning, just accept the affection from him. You lean in and brush your nose against his in return, causing him to gasp and grunt again, hand moving from your face to your waist. It lingers there for a few seconds before Jungkook gently, physically, pushes you away, his large eyes looking bigger than usual. His pupils are blown out, almost entirely black. Breath comes from his parted lips in short pants and huffs.

 “You should get cleaned up while I finish dinner,” he says softly, stepping backwards. There’s an arm’s length of space between you now. You nod at him, hands finding his, giving him a squeeze as you back out of the kitchen. You don’t let go until the space between you is too far for your fingertips to touch. His eyes don’t leave you until you’re completely out of sight.

 You close the door quietly, leaning your forehead against it and taking slow, deep, grounding breaths, trying to calm the racing of your heart. What was that? Sure, it isn’t the first time he’s done it; he did it on the night he transformed and kissed you. Somehow, though, it felt as intimate as him kissing you again. Is it wrong to feel this way towards Jungkook? He’s your Bun, your charge; you’re his caretaker. Are you taking advantage of him? Is he only acting like this because he’s thankful to you for taking care of him?

 You push off and away from the door, feeling heavy. It’s almost like there’s a rope connecting you to Jungkook and forever pulling you towards him. You change out of your work clothes into something more comfortable. If that more comfortable thing happens to be something just a little clingy in certain, flattering places, and it makes you feel pretty, then you tell yourself you need the ego boost after the day you had. It has absolutely nothing to do with wanting to look good for Jungkook. You head to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your hair into something more relaxed before returning to the kitchen. And Jungkook.

 “Nope!” Jungkook yells, stopping you before you can even enter the kitchen, two strong hands taking you by the shoulders, turning you around and practically marching you towards the living room. You pout over your shoulder at him, but he’s just grinning and laughing at your pouty face. You slump onto the sofa and he leans over the back of it, hovering over you, his eyes crinkling as he laughs musically. Ever so carefully he takes you by the jaw, rubbing his chin over your head, tilting you to the side so he can whisper in your ear.

 “Sit and relax, I’ll bring you dinner.” His voice is light and full of joy.

 You sit and pout, grabbing the remote to put some music on. At the exact moment you drop it back to the table, a bowl of food is placed in front of you. You blink up at a grinning Jungkook as he retreats eagerly to the kitchen, presumably for drinks. His enthusiasm is infectious. You pick up the bowl of pasta, twirling your fork in the creamy sauce and noodles, and take a big bite. It’s delicious. Delicious enough to have you moaning with pleasure and sliding back against the couch.

 “Kookie, this is amazing!” you groan, licking the sauce from your lips.

 Jungkook stares at you, eyes wide, focused on your tongue as it slides along your lips. You hadn’t even realised he’d come back from the kitchen. He places a glass of wine on the table in front of you, ducking his head and hiding behind his ears as he shuffles to his spot on the sofa, bowl in hand. You watch him slyly out of the corner of your eye. His face is so red, so glowing you can almost feel the heat radiating from it. “I made it,” he says, still staring intently at his food. “I found a recipe online I thought you would like.”

 “From scratch?” you ask, amazed. He nods, biting his lip and refusing to look at you. You reach across the space between you and thread your fingers into his soft, wavy locks, rubbing the spot just behind one of his floppy ears. “Bun this is amazing, it tastes amazing!” His head lifts up, eyes so big they sparkle in the low light. “You’re amazing,” you whisper in a soft voice. Jungkook ducks his head again, hiding once more behind his long ears and curly hair. He eats his food slowly, more picking at it than anything. You, on the other hand, tuck in enthusiastically, all manners and grace gone, letting him see and hear your enjoyment of the food. You know how much it pleases him when you unabashedly enjoy his cooking. When you ask for seconds, handing him your empty bowl, Jungkook binkies across the room to the kitchen, bouncing on his heels as he piles a second serving of noodles and sauce into your bowl.

 He hands it back to you soon after and sits beside you on the sofa, knees curling under himself. Reclining on the back cushions, he observes you as you eat, arms crossed and eyes sparkling. When you’re half way through your second serving and can’t eat a bite more, he whisks away the dishes and returns quickly to your side. 

 Jungkook flops over and places his head in your lap. “Will you…” He bites his lip, turning to bury his face in your sweater, his cheeks burning crimson again.

 “What? What do you want, Kookie?” you ask, carding your fingers through his hair and rubbing a thumb over the gentle fur of his ear. It twitches repeatedly.

 “Just this. Will you play with my hair? Stroke my ears?” he asks in a small voice. It’s unusually meek for him in his human form.

 “Of course I will, Bun. Anything you want.” You smile, running your fingers through his hair, nails trailing down his scalp. His leg kicks out, narrowly missing the coffee table. You hand him the remote. “Pick something to watch.”

Jungkook shuffles, turning to face the TV. With his head still in your lap, he curls up into a ball, enjoying your ministrations. You continue to pet him, running your fingers through his hair and stroking his ears, twirling locks of hair around your finger before releasing the resulting curl. You lounge there together, the stress of the day bleeding away from you thanks to a stomach full of good food and your hand tangled in the hair of—Jungkook—whatever he was to you right now.

You don’t know exactly when you fall asleep, but you wake to strong arms holding you, carrying you to your room. Jungkook places you delicately on your bed and you fling yourself backwards, curling up to drift off again. But before long you’re being shaken gently awake and sat back up. Soft, cotton pajamas are pushed into your hands.

“You need to get changed,” a soft, deep voice says firmly in your ear. A warm body presses against your back.

You pout, eyes resolutely closed, but begin taking off your sweater. Large hands help you when you get tangled on your arms. It’s even more of a struggle to unhook your bra. You flail for a while before dropping your arms and slumping back against Jungkook with a tired, pathetic whine. If you were properly awake you might have noticed how his breath hissed through his teeth, or how his nose rubbed your temple. 

With more force than is probably necessary, Jungkook grips you by the shoulder and props you forward. Then, with just one finger, he pulls your bra band away from your back, taking all care not to touch you at all. By some black magic he manages to unhook it, sliding the straps down and off your arms before discarding it on the floor. Not once does he look over your shoulder. He pulls the camisole of your pajama set over your head, guiding your arms through the straps before you wake enough to take over and pull both arms through.

“Now the shorts,” he grunts, low and gruff. It’s unusual enough that you pout at him over your shoulder.

“Bossy bunny,” you mumble, standing and kicking off the comfy leggings you had on. Somewhere in the back of your head you register a soft ‘”shit’” that you’re too tired to acknowledge. You pull on your shorts and sit back down, immediately flopping to your pillow. You feel your body being turned, tucked beneath the sheet pulled over you. Sleep comes easily to you after that.

—-

You wake up while it’s still dark outside. Jungkook’s chest is hot against your back, his knees curled and tucked behind yours. A muscled arm hangs heavily over your waist, keeping you close to him. You lift it as carefully as possible and slide out of bed, tip-toeing stealthily across the soft carpet and out of the room. You head to the kitchen and grab a glass in the dark, in search of a drink for your parched throat.

You drink your fill and shuffle back to bed, bringing a glass with you just in case. Although you slip into your room as stealthily as you’d left it, Jungkook is awake when you return. He sits with his arms wrapped around his knees, bottom lip snagged beneath his prominent front teeth.

“Kookie?” you ask softly in the darkness, making your way back to your side of the bed. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I just—I reached for you and you were gone,” he says, watching you place your glass of water down and climb back into bed. “I was waiting for you to come back.”

“Silly rabbit,” you coo. Jungkook rolls towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tangling a powerful, muscular leg with yours. You settle back, stroking his head and mulling over his unusual clinginess as sleep comes to claim you. 

But then you feel a pressure against your thigh, and you’re suddenly very awake. 

Jungkook undulates his hips to a subtle rhythm. “Wha-” you begin, turning to look at him. But he buries his nose beneath your jaw, his breath coming out in soft,  heavy huffs in time with his movements. He grinds against your hip with a desperation. You swallow audibly, forcing yourself to ask as your face burns. “Jungkook, what are you doing?”

“Sorry,” he whines. “I can’t help it, I just—” He throws his thigh over your hips, shifting until he’s hovering over you, weight on his knees and forearms. His hips drop to roll against your stomach, a thick bulge straining the thin material of the pajama bottoms you had bought him. Jungkook ruts against your sweat-covered skin as you stare up at him, eyes wide, frozen in shock. Heat floods through you, stirring your insides until you’re panting. He is, too. His mouth hangs open as he huffs in time with his thrusts, lips grazing your jaw until they reach your mouth. He caresses it softly with his own, barely a whisper of a touch. Once. Twice. Just like that first night he turned. The third time, he kisses you. Your eyes flutter closed and you kiss him back. Nothing more than a delicate tilt of your head and a careful brushing of your lips against his. This is wrong, a voice in the back of your head whispers. This man is practically a stranger.

Only he’s not.

He’s shared your bed as a human for the past two weeks, and ten weeks before that as a rabbit.

You’ve spent evenings curled up together, watching shows you both enjoy. You know his moods, as he knows yours. Your hand feels as comfortable tangled in his hair as it does amongst his fur, and you can read his eyes in both forms exactly the same.

He’s your Jungkook. Your Kookie. 

Your Bun.

He exhales heavily, his tongue lapping at your lips for more. Warm breath fans your face and you practically tremble with anticipation. Jungkook tears himself away to run his hands down the curves of your body, and as you look up at him, your mouth dries at the sight of his godly form. The ever-present glow of the city creates a subtle neon halo behind him, heightening his otherworldly, divine presence.

“I-I—“ As suddenly as he came onto you, Jungkook scrambles backwards off the bed, falling ungracefully to the floor. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry!” he yells, eyes watery and wide with terror. He rushes out of the room so quickly he doesn’t even stand up straight. Just heads straight for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You follow too late, reaching your bedroom doorway just in time to hear the bathroom lock snap into place.

You drop to your knees outside the bathroom door, knocking on it gently. “Jungkookie, what’s wrong? Please, come out,” you call.

“I can’t,” comes a whine from the other side of the door. It almost sounds like a sob. “I have to stay here. Can I have a blanket please?” The voice is strained and tight; unsure. It’s not like the warm, bright voice you’ve come to know at all.

“Okay,” you agree. “I’ll get that for you. I’ll be right back.” When you return with the requested blanket, you let Kookie know with a small knock on the door. He cracks it open just enough for you to push the bedding through. In doing so, you catch a glimpse of his eyes. They’re wide and a little teary, his pupils huge. His face and upper chest is worryingly flushed. Jungkook notices you scrutinising his appearance and slams the door shut before you can comment. You hover on the other side of the door, not wanting to leave him. “I’m not upset with you, Bun. I understand if you want some space. Good night.”

You shuffle your way back to bed, curling up under the duvet for the first time in weeks. Because despite the heat and humidity of summer, it feels far, far too cold.

—-

The fullness of your bladder wakes you, demanding you seek relief immediately. You can tell by the noise outside that it’s late morning, and you hope Jungkook is already awake. You roll out of bed and shuffle over to the bathroom, trying the handle and finding it still locked.

With a reluctant sigh, you knock. “Jungkookie? Bun, I need to pee. Can you let me in please?” A few moments later there’s shuffling behind the door and the soft click of a lock opening. A sunken-eyed Jungkook stands on the other side, eyes averted. The duvet you gave him wraps him like a shroud. It hangs over his head, hiding his ears, his hands clutching it tightly at his chest. He stares pointedly at his feet as he shuffles past you, and if it weren’t for your desperate need to pee you’d stop and talk to him. But that’s a conversation that can wait until you’ve made breakfast.

You finish in the bathroom as fast as possible and make your way to the kitchen, noticing how he sits curled up on the chair in the corner of your living room.

You pull out all the things you need to make pancakes and crank up the volume on an upbeat playlist; mostly songs Jungkook likes listening to in the mornings. “Jungkook, could you help me please?” you ask sweetly. “The strawberries and bananas need slicing.”

He perks up at that, ears twitching before his eyes dart over to you. He loves bananas, almost obsessively loves them. I knew that would work, you smile to yourself. Jungkook fiddles with the waistband of his pajamas and you try to forget the outline of his hardness straining against them. Try to forget how your skin flushed when he rocked it against you. You focus back on the batter, giving it an extra hard stir, making sure there’s no lumps in it. That’s the reason for you beating it so vigorously. No other reason.

You sigh, pinching yourself before switching on the burner on the stove.

Jungkook begins chopping fruit. Yes. You smile to yourself, watching him out of the corner of your eye as you work on two stacks of pancakes. The tension in the air between you two eases, and soon you’re both dancing to a song that Jungkook listens to often; its easy choreography something you developed together. The song changes into something new, something you’ve never heard before, but you sway your hips nevertheless as you ladle batter into the hot frying pan. Jungkook bounces from foot-to-foot, endlessly energetic as he works his way through half a bunch of bananas and the entire bowl of strawberries. He’s piling the chopped fruit up on plates when you push between him and the counter with a small, murmured excuse me. The step he takes back to allow you access isn’t quite big enough. Even then you don’t notice; so used to squeezing around one another in the modestly-sized kitchen as you are.

 Jungkook, however, notices.

Your ass slides firmly against him and he grips your hips almost painfully hard, pressing you into the counter.

“Ow! Jungkook, what are you—” Your question becomes a squeal of surprise when he buries his nose behind your ear and grinds his rapidly hardening cock into the cleft of your ass. Only two, flimsy layers of clothing separate you. 

“I need you so bad,” he growls as he rubs his nose through your hair, the underside of his chin skimming the column of your neck. You arch back into him, throwing your head back to expose more of your neck to him. You’re usually a lot more reserved with men—a lot—but something about Jungkook makes you want to be wild. Maybe it’s the way you feel so safe with him. His body is a solid presence against your back, his thrusting desperate and needy. Gone is the sweet, delicate Bun you’ve come to care about. He’s been replaced with someone who grips you, growls at you, and yet you still feel safe in his arms.

It’s Jungkook. He’d never hurt you.

You groan, something between a whine and a whimper being ripped from the back of your throat as he rubs himself against you. Then, suddenly - unwelcomely - cold air hits your back. 

Jungkook has torn himself from you for a second time. 

You turn but he’s not behind you. Spinning in place, you see a fluffy tail vanishing around a cabinet and a pair of light grey pajamas left in its wake. You follow fast enough to watch him hightail it out of the kitchen and across the living room, straight under the chair in the corner. He never sits in it as a human, preferring to sit next to you on the sofa, but it’s his favourite place to hide as a bunny.

You crouch, peeking under the chair, trying to coax him out.

“I’m sorry, Jungkookie. Come out and talk to me, please?” you beg to the huddled mass of fur under the chair. He stays where he is, shifting in a way you know means he’s settling in for the long haul. You stand up, running to turn off the stove before dashing to your bedroom and throwing on some clothes. After grabbing your bag, you check under the chair again. Jungkook is still there. “I’ll be right back, okay?” you tell him, before rushing out the door.

You all but run out of your apartment building, dodging people on the street as you head to the florist a block and a half away to get a custom bouquet made. It’s ugly as hell, but it’s not supposed to be for looking at. All of the flowers are suitable for rabbits to eat, and you get triple the ones you know Jungkook is particularly fond of.

You rush back to your apartment on a sliver of energy, taking extra care to preserve your gift, but the whole journey takes you less than twenty minutes. You discard your shoes and bag by the door and head straight for the chair, placing your peace offering on the floor before it.

“I have a gift for you,” you say, pulling a white hibiscus from the bouquet and presenting it to him. “Please come out and talk to me, Bun.” You watch as Jungkook hops forward, unable to resist the pull of his favourite flower. You untie the haphazard collection of flowers and lay them out on the decorative wrapping paper for him. It does the trick and draws him out from under the chair. You hold your hand out to him carefully, letting him come to you on his own terms. Jungkook devours a rosebud and hops forward, bumping your hand with his nose. You sigh, tension you didn’t know was building melting from your shoulders.

Somewhat placated, you head back to the kitchen. The pancakes are now cold but nothing that can’t be reheated. You store his breakfast in the fridge and slip a couple bits of banana onto the paper with the flowers. Jungkook leaps at them, devouring them with relish before following you into the kitchen and circling your chair as you eat your pancakes. He reaches up, nudging your foot to get your attention. And by attention, he wants more bananas.

Once you’re all done with breakfast, you move to the living room. There are several episodes of a TV show you and Jungkook have been watching together that you need to catch up on, and that’s your usual plan for the weekend. Jungkook, however, has other plans. He jumps into your lap, purposefully knocking the remote out of your hand. You tangle your fingers through his fur and feel him shudder under your touch.

“Do you want to tell me what's wrong now?” you ask softly, thumb rubbing soothing circles between his eyes. Beneath your hand, Jungkook transforms. He curls in on himself, doing his best to obscure his nudity, and buries his head in your stomach. You run a hand down his back and find his skin is clammy and feverish. “Oh my god, are you sick? Bun, you’re burning up!” you exclaim, panic injected into your tone.

“I’m going into heat. It’s why I keep—why I keep—” His voice is high-pitched and strained again.

“Why you keep rubbing against me?” you finish for him, raking your nails through his long locks. His ears and tail twitch and Jungkook whines. Nodding, he curls in on himself tighter. “You need a partner,” you say matter-of-factly, but he shakes his head in disagreement.

“No. I don’t need a partner...” he says simply, the implication left hanging. You move his ear carefully, brushing his hair from his face and cupping it with one hand. Your thumb strokes his cheekbone until his tightly-clenched eyes open.

 “Then, tell me what you want,” you whisper. His eyes narrow like he’s assessing you. Assessing the full implication of your words and trying to decide how to answer you.

 “Normally I’d mate with someone in a nest—” Jungkook starts before he’s racked by shudders. He buries his face in your stomach again and whines.

 “My bed,” you offer. “You can build a nest there if you need to.”

He shoots upward at your words, watching your face carefully. “But—” His eyes are wide, mouth agape as he draws the logical conclusion but not daring to hope. “--where will you sleep?” He asks as though he is scared of the answer.

 You carefully brush his hair back from his face, thumbing over a floppy ear. “I c-can—“ you stutter, before taking a deep breath. “I’ll figure something out.” You lean forward, pressing your forehead to his. Your lips are so close like this, close enough to brush against each other as you speak. It’s not quite a kiss, but your intention is clear. “If you need anything—if you want anything...” You trail off. 

 Jungkook wastes no time. He sits up and crawls into your lap, his bare, muscular thighs straddling yours as he kisses you deeply. His hands, no longer rough, cup your face delicately as though he can’t believe he’s been gifted something so precious. Even as his naked hips roll against your stomach.

 “Iwantyouwantyouwantyou. Need you,” he chants between kisses.

 And in an act of madness - or perhaps sanity - you give yourself to him completely.

Next Chapter

[the-real-tc]

Fic Update. Bad Business: Chapter 3 Or Worse

Author's Note: Things are about to get bumpy, and I'm sure theories will start flying around, which is all well and good. There are going to be some disturbing events and imagery here and in upcoming chapters, so I'll repeat the "triggering" warning and the "abusive comments will not be tolerated" piece again. Thanks to all the extremely encouraging comments and reviews so far. I'm pleased you're all following along.

***

To the childless wife he gives a home, and gladdens her heart with children.

- Ps. 113

Chapter 3:

Or Worse

***

Hudson Times—Online Version

Wednesday, April 10, 2019

Hudson Area Residents On Alert Due to Bear Sightings

Nadir Jutley

Fish and Wildlife officials are responding to reports of a bear in Hudson county. An alert was issued after several ranchers caught sight of the animal over the past week. April is typically when bears emerge from hibernation. Residents of Hudson county are being asked to be extra vigilant, especially around dusk and dawn, when bears are most likely to be active.

If you see the bear, contact Fish and Wildlife at 555-625-1540 immediately. Do not approach, and do not provoke the animal.

• Email: nadir_jutley

***

"Hey, Ty," Amy called softly, "did you see this report about a bear in the area?"

Ty looked up from his reports. "Yeah," he replied. "Scott and I got the alert at the clinic yesterday afternoon."

"Good," Amy said, though she was still pouting, thinking about all the potential areas her country vet husband and his boss could encounter the beast while making their rounds to rural ranch lands. "Be careful out on those calls, okay? You and Scott go to some pretty remote places sometimes..."

Ty smiled in spite of himself. "Now who's being overprotective?"

"Ty," she said, eyeing him sternly, "I'm serious. I—I just don't want anything to happen to you, okay? After Mongolia..."

The last thing Ty wanted at that moment was to rehash falling nearly fatally ill on his first trip to Mongolia, and then being abducted and left for dead the second time—not to mention the near-fatal encounter with one of the poachers on his own home turf.

"Hey, Scott and I are always careful," he said, attempting to reassure her. "He's got his tranquilizer all the time, at the ready. The chances of us encountering that bear are pretty slim. It may even have moved on by now."

"Okay," Amy said, mouth still drawn downwards.

Now who's being overprotective? Ty's gentle rebuke echoed in her mind. She chided herself mentally, knowing her worries were probably unfounded. After all, Ty had not said a word when she departed on Sunday with Georgie to participate in the faux fox hunt event. She had enjoyed every minute of the ride, though she did choose not to vault any of the jumps on the course this time around. If I'm going to ride, I don't have to take unnecessary risks, she reasoned. It would be one line of defense she figured she could bring up if Ty ever did say something negative about her decision to ride during her pregnancy.

***

Five Days Later...

"Val Stanton is missing," Jack announced as he shut the door behind him.

Lisa looked up from her laptop, her brow instantly creasing. "'Missing'? What do you mean missing?"

"The police are out at Briar Ridge now. I saw them there when I was driving back from my supply run. Something in my gut told me there was something really wrong with that picture, so I stopped in to see what was going on. I got to speak with Jesse, and he says Val went out for a ride late this morning and didn't come back when he expected her to. She was supposed to meet some clients with him at 1:00 p.m., and she never showed. It's of course way past that time now."

"Did you say she went out for a ride late this morning? I had Herring trailered over there yesterday so she could try him out," Lisa said, genuine worry replacing her initial curiosity. "I hope she wasn't thrown and is lying injured somewhere—or worse."

"Right now, no one knows, but Jesse did mention she took Herring," Jack said. "Val unfortunately didn't go out with her cell phone, so they can't track her that way. Chief Parker is going to have his officers combing the areas Jesse said she was known to go when she went for a ride."

"Do they need any help? I mean, we could always saddle up and check where her property meets up with Heartland," Lisa suggested, pre-emptively shutting down her laptop. "She can't have gone too far."

"We could take a look," Jack agreed thoughtfully. "But I hate to say it: I have a bad feeling about this, especially with all those bear sightings lately."

Lisa shook her head once as she stood to face him. "Let's not go down that road yet," she said, putting a hand on his arm. "We should ride out and hope for the best. I'll head out to the jumping pen to let Georgie know where we're going."

"I'll tell Amy and Ty when I get the horses saddled."

Upon hearing that Val was missing, Georgie immediately halted her jumping practice and dismounted from Phoenix. She followed Lisa to the stables and asked to come along for the search, but Jack firmly nixed her request.

"No, you stay put," Jack said in a voice that left no room for discussion. "We don't know why she's missing. This could be a very serious situation, and someone needs to stay in the house with Katie right now."

For a moment Georgie felt a surge of indignation, like she was once again the immature child who was always left out of the action. This time, though, she came to the realisation all on her own what Jack was not verbalizing: He suspected Val could very well be hurt or even dead, and did not want Georgie to be on hand to see those suspicions confirmed.

"You're taking your rifle?" Lisa asked, eyeing the weapon uneasily as Jack climbed up into Buddy's saddle.

With a nod, Jack said gruffly: "We don't know what's out there, Lis. It's just a precaution."

"Right. Of course," Lisa said, and nudged Venus to head out, simultaneously double-checking to make sure she had her cell phone in her jacket pocket.

***

Daylight hours faded to the point Jack and Lisa knew it was time to return. Searching in darkness would be futile. Reluctantly, they turned the horses back toward the ranch house, having trekked along the property line separating Heartland from Briar Ridge. During that time they spotted nothing resembling either Val or Herring.

"Did you find anything?" Georgie asked anxiously when they eventually made it into the kitchen after seeing to Buddy and Venus' post-ride needs.

"Nothing," Jack said wearily.

"It's definitely a concerning situation," Lisa added. "Herring is a—a very well-behaved, steady horse. And Val is an experienced rider. But I can't help thinking that she could be lying out there somewhere with a broken leg or—"

"If that's the case, someone will find her," Jack interrupted, hoping to swing her thoughts back to a positive mode.

"I hope so."

Despite all their differences over the years, Lisa shuddered interiorly at the notion something horrible could have happened to Val.

"Hey, isn't Herring micro-chipped?" Georgie asked.

"He is," Lisa said, turning to look at the teen. "And I think I know where you're going with this, but those chips aren't designed to be tracked by GPS."

"Oh, right," Georgie said with a defeated pout. "I guess I thought it could be an easy way to locate him."

Lisa pursed her lips, then said: "It was a good thought. It's just too bad that's not how it works. If it were, we would have tracked Herring hours ago—the moment we knew he and Val were missing."

Georgie sighed. "Okay. Too bad. I really hope she's okay, and Herring, of course."

"Me, too."

***

MISSING PERSONS REPORT

Tuesday, April 16

Hudson Police are seeking public assistance in locating a missing local woman.

Valerie Jane Stanton, 59, was last seen on the morning of Tuesday, April 16 departing her residence of Briar Ridge on horseback and did not return at the scheduled time.

She is described as 5'5", approximately 130 lbs., with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was wearing English-style riding attire and a riding helmet, as pictured.

The horse she was riding is chestnut in colour with one white sock on his right front foreleg.

Stanton's family believes she could be in medical distress due to an undisclosed health issue.

Anyone with information about Stanton's whereabouts are asked to contact Hudson Police immediately at 403-555-7799.

Photo courtesy Stanton family

***

The sun was just cresting the horizon when Lisa pulled into Fairfield the next morning. She was pleased to see some of her staff already seeing after the never-ending list of duties assigned to them. The smart maroon jerseys with the Fairfield logo that distinguished her staff from visitors or clients brought a smile to her face. It was something her father would never have done, but once Fairfield had started to become more well-known past local circles, adding this touch of professionalism had seemed to be the right move.

Ten minutes later, she had mounted up on Cinders and was cantering out towards her usual morning destination: Lookout Point. The familiar sights and sounds brought a welcome comfort to her troubled mind. Neither she nor Jack had enjoyed a restful night. Thoughts of the missing Val Stanton and the horse she was riding had proven to be a burdensome distraction. With no news on Val's whereabouts this morning, their worry had not abated. Lisa figured with daylight hours now upon them, the police would probably be resuming their search.

Where could Val possibly be? Lisa fretted for the hundredth time. Again, she pushed back the unsettling thought that Val could have fallen from Herring. Who goes off riding without a cell phone these days in case something like this happens?

The still snow-capped Rocky Mountains glowed in the bright, early sunshine. Lisa reined in Cinders and simply sat for a few moments, taking in the awe-inspiring view. No matter how often she took this ride and gazed out at these mountains, they were different, beautiful and new every time. She was about to urge Cinders forward again when a flicker of movement caught the corner of her right eye.

A wild whinny of terror reached Lisa's ears, followed by the fierce pounding of hooves. Cinders reacted by giving a whinny of his own while shaking his head, sensing danger.

Lisa's gaze now fell on a chestnut horse that circled them in confusion and fright. A few ugly, bloody gashes stood out in stark relief on the left hindquarter, flank, and thigh. The saddle and pad were missing.

"Herring!" Lisa cried in recognition. She quickly dismounted. If this was Herring, her missing horse, then where was its rider, Val?

"Herring," Lisa called softly, dread billowing up inside her. The chestnut horse shook his head furiously when Lisa approached. He snorted once then bolted away from her.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Lisa tried to lower her voice, slowing her steps so as not to frighten the horse further. She realised he must be suffering a great deal from his injuries, the cause of which Lisa could not yet determine, but she had a strong suspicion a bear's paws had inflicted the damage. She took a few furtive glances around, but saw no sign of anything of a predatory nature. Besides, the wounds looked as if they had been bleeding for some time.

Where is Val? Lisa wondered again in a panic. If Herring is hurt, Val could be, too...

Lisa cast her eyes down to the grassy ground in search of anything resembling a human form. Her eyes soon fell upon mangled black leather. That must be Val's dressage saddle, Lisa thought, recognizing the shape of the riding gear. It obviously got snagged on something or pulled off. That's why it's lying here. Not far away, Lisa spied a torn saddle pad soiled with dirt and blood. Oh, no. Val could be lying here anywhere. She took a few careful paces forward, keeping close watch on Herring at the same time. The last thing she wanted was for him to be so spooked he took off for a wooded area, or worse, towards the road where he might be hit by some careless driver.

"Val?!" Lisa chanced a shout. "Can you hear me?"

She kept pacing around slowly, keeping her eyes peeled. After about five minutes, Lisa thought she spotted something unusual. About ten paces away, she identified what appeared to be a human-shaped lump, partially obscured in the ankle-high wild grass. Lisa's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach.

"Val?" she called with growing trepidation. She crept closer, then stopped at five paces, having now, even from this distance, seen enough to know getting any nearer would be a bad idea. She pulled out her cell phone and immediately put in a call to the Hudson police department. Val Stanton had indeed fallen from Herring as Lisa had feared, and from what she could see, the other woman would never be getting up again.

***

At 9:00 a.m. that same morning, Ty's phone buzzed just as he was finishing a quiet breakfast with Amy. "It's Scott," he said, looking at the screen.

"Go ahead," Amy said with a nod, figuring it could be something urgent.

"Hi, Scott," Ty spoke, rising from the table and moving to the living room area of the loft. "Lookout Point? Yeah, I can be there in about twenty minutes... Okay, 'bye."

"Work emergency?" Amy asked with a knowing smile.

"Yeah," Ty said with a frown. "It's weird, though. Scott said the police called him out to Lookout Point. Something about a horse and a crime scene."

"A horse and a crime scene?" Amy gasped, remembering Jack and Lisa's fruitless search the evening before. "Val Stanton and Herring... You don't think this has anything to do with them, do you?"

"Scott didn't say, but I hope not," Ty said, moving quickly to stow his breakfast dishes in the washer. He planted a kiss on his wife's cheek before hurrying into the bathroom to finish cleaning up for his departure.

"See you later," Amy said, catching him for a parting kiss when he emerged. "Love you."

"Love you, too," Ty responded, kissing her again. "Give Lyndy a kiss for me, too, okay?"

"Of course. Now go on; don't be late."

***

By the time Ty reached Lookout Point, he saw a coroner's van pulling onto the road back towards town. He quickly spotted several police vehicles along with Scott's truck. Two constables stood beside their SUVs, ostensibly there to direct traffic or to encourage nosy onlookers to keep driving past. Ty, unsure of what he should do, pulled to a stop behind Scott's truck. One constable approached and Ty lowered his window expectantly.

"This area has been declared a crime scene; you'll need to continue on," said the young constable, whose nametag identified him as 'Becket'.

"I've been called out here," Ty said. "I'm Dr. Borden. I'm a veterinarian and I work with Dr. Scott Cardinal."

"I.D., please?" Becket asked.

Ty provided his license.

"Okay, stay right here," Becket said after handing back the card. He keyed his radio. "Chief, Dr. Borden has arrived. You're expecting him?"

Chief Parker's deep voice came over the radio, confirming Ty had indeed been summoned and should be permitted to enter the area.

"Follow me," Becket said nodding to Ty. "I'll take you to the spot."

"Thanks," Ty said, growing more uneasy with the entire situation. He stepped out of the truck's cab, vet kit in hand. He followed close on Becket's heels across the uneven grassy terrain, over the rise in the landscape, and down towards a perimeter cordoned off with large orange barriers and yellow crime scene tape.

Within that perimeter Ty could make out a small cluster of uniformed personnel and numbered yellow tags on the turf. He then spotted not one, but two horses outside the perimeter. To his utter surprise, he now saw Lisa was holding the rein of one of those horses.

That's Cinders, he thought, recognizing the dapple grey horse from the time Lisa and Jack had reconciled during an ill-fated trip to Montana. The other horse was being kept away from everyone by Scott for some reason. Now as he neared, Ty could see the horse being minded by Scott was indeed injured.

Ty caught Lisa's eye as he made his way past the perimeter towards his mentor. In that brief exchange, he read in her expression shock and horror. She was speaking with Chief Parker, but he could not make out their conversation. With the presence of the coroner's van he had seen only moments earlier, a new sense of foreboding gripped Ty. He wondered what Lisa was even doing at Lookout Point amidst all these police officers, but then remembered her habit of riding out to this location on most mornings—a habit she had retained even after moving in at Heartland.

"Hey, Ty, thanks for coming," Scott said. The horse he was minding let out a loud snort and kicked at the turf as soon as it spotted Ty.

"Easy, easy," Scott said soothingly.

"Whoa, what's going on with this guy?" Ty asked.

"This is Herring," Scott said of the chestnut horse. "And it looks like he's been attacked by a bear. Lisa thinks he's been out here all last night."

"All last night?" Ty repeated, instantly registering the horse's name and why it sounded familiar. "Scott, Val Stanton was supposed to be riding Herring yesterday. The coroner's van I just saw..."

Bleakly, Scott answered Ty's implied question. "Val's dead, Ty. Lisa found her body."

Ty closed his eyes and exhaled his shock. "Aw, man. That's terrible. Was she thrown, or something?"

Scott shrugged. "I don't know. Chief Parker and his team were already here when I arrived. I didn't get a look at the body. My immediate concern was for Herring. Lisa said he was spooked by Cinders and absolutely would not calm down. Wouldn't even let her approach with Cinders so close. That's why they called me. I've just administered a sedative. It's a small miracle he let me get near enough even for that, because everyone was ready to go with a tranquilizer gun. Anyway, I called you because Herring is Lisa's. She asked for you."

Despite the sedative Scott administered, Ty noted the horse was still skittish. Its eyes roved in an agitated fashion, and it was wary of any movement. This was demonstrated right at that moment when Chief Parker ambled over to the veterinarians. Herring gave a wild cry and stamped a hoof.

"Whoa," Scott said in a gentle tone. The horse managed to settle enough for Parker not to feel threatened.

"Thanks for coming, Ty," the senior officer said. Turning to Scott, he added, "Dr. Cardinal, one of my guys is going to come and take those photos of the wounds on Herring now like we talked about earlier, just in case we need anything for evidence later. Do you think he can keep still enough for that?"

"The sedative should really be taking effect now, but no sudden moves," Scott warned.

"We'll do our best," Parker said, waving over a member of his forensic crime scene team. The young man clutched a large kit stuffed with photography equipment, listened to Parker's instructions about what he needed, and carried on with his task.

"I think the best thing would be to get him trailered to Heartland since it's so nearby," Ty said, while the photographs were being snapped. "And he does belong to Lisa, after all."

"Fine," Parker said with a brisk nod. "Let my guy finish up here, then I'll sign off on that transport."

Ty looked over once more at Lisa, concerned for her state of mind after finding Val. Her body language said it all as she stood rigidly in place, tightly gripping Cinders' rein with her left hand, her riding helmet pressed snugly against her side in the crook of her right arm.

Parker was speaking to her again now, and Ty saw her nod her head a couple times. He rightly assumed it was about the arrangement to bring Herring to Heartland. Ty wondered why she had not yet approached them, but remembered the injured horse's current mental state. Whatever happened out here, this poor horse has been severely traumatized, Ty realised. Everything is spooking him right now.

"I'm finished here," the forensics photographer finally said, and backed away calmly and carefully from the injured animal.

"Thanks," Scott said. Then, turning to Ty, added, "Let's get these wounds cleaned up now. I'm worried about how long they've been left exposed like this. I don't want infection to set in."

"Right," Ty said in agreement. He cast one last glance back at Lisa. She waved a gloved hand before placing her helmet back on her head in preparation to ride Cinders back to Fairfield. He waved back, then set to work with Scott to clean and bandage the wounds on the afflicted horse.

***

"The police are here with the trailer," Jack announced as he peered out the kitchen window.

Lisa set down her mug of tea. "Thanks," she murmured, still dressed in her riding attire. She had immediately driven back from Fairfield after depositing Cinders and had arrived at Heartland only minutes earlier.

Jack watched things unfold from the porch. Lisa, Ty, and Amy gathered at the trailer and they spoke with a pair of constables. He watched Lisa sign some sort of official paperwork.

With that piece of business taken care of, Ty and Amy began the task of offloading Herring. Lisa said something to them Jack could not determine, but seemed to him to be words of encouragement. The constables departed, their job having been completed.

"Scott administered a sedative on site," Ty said to Amy, as he slowly guided the animal towards the stables. "Herring was really agitated from the pain and the trauma of the attack, we think."

"Poor guy," Amy said.

"It's a miracle he was able to get close enough for that," Ty repeated what his mentor said at Lookout Point. "Scott mentioned they were almost ready to use the tranquilizer. We cleaned up the wounds as best we could out there, but we still need to watch for signs of infection."

Amy nodded in understanding.

"What comes next, now that he's here?" Lisa asked.

"I can deal with the physical side; we're all hoping you can cope with his behavior, Amy," Ty answered as they entered the barn. "He's terrified of everything right now. You'll see once the sedation wears off."

"No wonder," Amy said, noting the bandages Ty and Scott had applied to the left flank, hindquarter, and thigh. "After what he's been through, he's going to need a lot of help."

"I'm game if you are, babe," Ty said with a smile.

"I most certainly am, Dr. Borden," Amy replied, stretching up to kiss him.

Lisa smiled at the sight. "I'll let you two get to it," she said, sending them a wink as she parted company, confident her horse was in the right hands.

***

Despite knowing Herring would most likely make a full recovery under Ty and Amy's expert care, Lisa's face was grim when she was once again inside the kitchen.

"How bad is it?" Jack ventured to ask, immediately noticing her gloomy expression.

Lisa sat down at the table before giving an answer. She took a sip from her mug, but the tea had grown tepid in her absence and failed to help ward off a chill she was suddenly experiencing.

"The bear got some pretty good swipes in," Lisa finally responded, a slight tremor passing through her frame at the memory of seeing the extent of Herring's injuries. "Some of those claw marks are pretty deep. But that's not the only concern. He's been really traumatised psychologically by the attack. Right now he is sedated; Amy is hoping to work with him later."

Jack observed her with concern. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," she said, looking up at his face and reading there a combination of love and worry. "I'm much more upset about Val. When I saw her lying there, facedown, I just knew. It was awful, Jack."

"I'm so sorry you had to find her like that, Lis," Jack said, gently placing his hand over hers.

"I can't imagine what could have happened. From what I was able to see, her jacket... her jacket was bloodstained. Do you think the bear—"

"I really don't know," Jack interjected quickly, wanting to divert his wife's line of thinking. "No use dwelling on it until the police finish their investigation."

"You knew her longer than I did," Lisa stated carefully. "You were the friend she leaned on when she was going through her cancer battles."

"Right," Jack said slowly with a nod of agreement.

"She had feelings for you, Jack," Lisa added. "You know she did; I won't pretend I didn't notice. Years back she let me know in no uncertain terms she was keeping you in her life, despite knowing we were a serious item."

"Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden?" asked Jack, surprised the conversation had swayed in this direction.

Lisa exhaled. "I don't really know. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around everything, I guess. What I'm trying to say is, despite Val not being my favourite person on the planet, I certainly never wanted her dead, and certainly not like that."

"Come here," Jack said, opening his arms. Lisa got up from her seat and slid onto Jack's lap. He encircled her in a tight embrace, nuzzling the side of her head. The earlier chill that had descended upon her melted away with the warmth of his body so close to hers.

"Mmm..." murmured Lisa. "Thank you. I needed this hug."

"You're welcome," Jack whispered.

***

Hudson Times—Print Version

Wednesday, April 17, 2019

Briar Ridge Owner Found Dead

Nadir Jutley

Prominent Hudson businesswoman Valerie Stanton was found dead early Tuesday morning. Stanton had earlier been reported missing by her son, Jesse Stanton. He told this reporter he advised authorities his mother had been out horseback riding on Monday and had not returned by the appointed time. He immediately reported this absence, as he was particularly concerned for her well-being due to an undisclosed health issue.

This reporter learned local veterinarians, Drs. Cardinal and Borden were called to Lookout Point and an injured horse was removed from the scene for treatment.

Chief of Hudson Police James Parker has issued the following statement:

"At approximately 7:15 a.m. on Tuesday morning, the body of Ms. Valerie Stanton of Briar Ridge Stables was discovered by a Hudson resident out on a horseback ride up at Lookout Point. Ms. Stanton had evidently fallen from her mount. Our preliminary examination shows that any injuries suffered in that fall did not ultimately contribute to her death. At this time, we cannot comment on the precise cause of death except to say we believe Ms. Stanton did not die from natural causes.

"We would also like to issue another warning to the public about the bear that has been seen around Hudson. There is evidence the horse Ms. Stanton was riding came into close contact with that animal and suffered some injuries as a result."

Chief Parker said he would make more details public as they became available.

Briar Ridge staff and neighbours reacted with sadness and shock at the news.

Stanton was the owner of Briar Ridge Stables, a world-class showjumping training facility. She was predeceased by her husband, Alexander Stanton, in 2004; she is survived by two adult children, Jesse and Ashley.

• Email: nadir_jutley

***

"I still can't believe Val is dead," Georgie said, staring blankly. "We just saw her at the faux fox hunt last week."

"It's crazy," Lou uttered in agreement. "I don't get it. What on earth could have happened? And this part about 'Ms. Stanton did not die from natural causes'. What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means whatever happened to her wasn't natural, and it wasn't an accident," Tim spoke up. He made a slashing motion across his neck.

"Dad!" Lou cried in dismay, staring at him in shock at his crude gesture.

"What? That's exactly what it means," he said in his defense. "Someone or some thing killed Val. But I'll wager this is a case of foul play."

Lou glared at her father. "You didn't have to be so—so graphic about it."

Tim was about to give some smart retort, but was stalled when Georgie spoke up.

"I rode for her... And I did a school project on Briar Ridge," murmured the teen, voice toneless. "I learned so much from her, even if I didn't agree with her business model. She wasn't the easiest person to deal with, you know? She could be so demanding and so mean sometimes, but I-I don't know how anyone could want to hurt her."

"Hey, come here," Lou said softly, beckoning her daughter for a hug, which the girl quickly accepted. "Don't worry yourself about it, honey."

"Make no mistake: someone did her in. And all I have to say is the cops better catch the person responsible," Tim remarked. "Last thing we need is a killer on the loose in Hudson."

***

The man's phone buzzed.

"Speak," he said, upon accepting the call.

"They found the body."

"I know. It's being blasted in the local paper."

"Hmph. My client wasn't expecting her to be found for another few days."

"Not my problem."

"You're sure no one saw you out there?"

"I was long gone before the body was discovered. No one saw me. You can take that to the bank."

"Okay, fine. My client just wants to be sure."

"Tell your 'client' I did what I was paid to do. I don't control what happens afterwards. If he was so concerned about when or how someone eventually stumbled upon that woman's corpse, he should have added 'disposal' to the list of duties."

"You do that, too?"

"If my price is met."

"Good to know. I'll keep that in mind."

***

Hudson Times — Print Version

Thursday, April 18

Cause of Death Released

Nadir Jutley

At a press conference yesterday, Hudson Police Chief James Parker announced a stunning development in the death of prominent Hudsonite Valerie Stanton.

"The coroner has determined that Ms. Stanton's death was the result of a single gunshot wound," Parker revealed. "We have no suspects at this time, but we are asking for the public's help in this matter. Sometime on the morning of the 15th, Ms. Stanton was out on horseback at Lookout Point near Highway 23. We are asking for any hunters, hikers, or motorists in the vicinity at the time to please come forward with any information."

When asked by this reporter, Chief Parker admitted they are treating the death as "suspicious", but ultimately stated the shooting could be accidental in nature.

"The fact that we've had several bear sightings and the fact the horse Ms. Stanton was riding was attacked by a bear is reason enough to believe someone might have been aiming for one of those predators. The possibility certainly exists Ms. Stanton could have been struck by a stray bullet. This is why it is crucial we speak to anyone who might have been out hunting in the area on Monday, the 15th."

Alberta Fish and Wildlife had previously issued a warning about a bear in Hudson county, and they repeated that warning today. If spotted, residents are asked to call 555-625-1540. Do not approach the animal in any circumstance.

Valerie Stanton was the owner and operator of the renowned Briar Ridge Stables. She was also a member of the Hudson Chamber of Commerce, and was the recipient of the Hudson Businesswoman of the Year award in 2006. She is survived by her two adult children, Jesse and Ashley.

The funeral for Stanton will be held on Tuesday, April 23 at the Hudson Funeral Home at 1:00 p.m.; a private burial will take place at the Highwood Cemetery.

• Email: nadir_jutley

***

The atmosphere around the dinner table felt quieter and more sombre than usual that Good Friday evening with just Jack, Lisa, and Georgie sharing a meal. Katie was off to spend the Easter long weekend and an extended spring break in Vancouver with Peter. Lou had departed for New York to deal with her Maggie's franchise business, and would be gone for the next month or so. Surprisingly, Tim was spending a rare evening at Big River for his evening meal. Lisa had extended an invitation to Ty and Amy to come by; the couple had declined.

Jack was feeling the weight of the uncommon silence. He reflected on how much a lively dinner hour had become the norm over the past several years.

It was such a contrast to the time immediately following Lyndy's death when dinners tended to be low-key affairs. Back then, it would be a setting for four: Marion, himself, Lou and Amy. Even then, sometimes he would be eating alone if he had been out dealing with the herd. At other times, he would be eating with just Amy and Lou if their mother was looking after a particularly difficult client horse. Then Scott entered the picture for a few years when Marion sponsored him. Soon after, both the former juvenile delinquent and Lou left Heartland to spread their wings and pursue higher education and careers, bringing the number of those at the dining table down to a paltry three.

Jack's thoughts drifted to Amy and Ty's newest patient. From what Lisa reported upon Herring's return from his fateful ride with Val up to Lookout Point, Jack knew the horse suffered some trauma due to the bear's attack, not unlike what Bear the horse had suffered a few years in the past. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of Val's body lying on the ground next to Herring as the ravenous predator approached. He swiped a hand across his face, hoping to blot out the images his troubled imagination conjured.

"You all right?" asked Lisa, upon seeing this action.

"Fine," he replied, suddenly self-conscious.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Jack," Georgie added. "You seemed really out of it for a few minutes."

"I am fine, both of you," Jack insisted, trying to ignore Georgie's unsolicited observation. "Not particularly happy, mind you. After all, I've just lost a friend and neighbour, and nobody seems to know what the heck happened to her, but I'm fine."

"Okay, honey," Lisa said placatingly.

Figuring now was as good a time as any to bring up the subject, Jack said, "I don't mean to sound like a worry-wort, but it would give me a great deal of peace of mind if you skipped your usual morning rides out to Lookout Point for the next little while, Lis."

"Oh, I have no intention of going out there anytime soon, believe me," Lisa said with a shudder. "Not after..."

She let her words die on her lips. No, after finding Val's body, Lookout Point would be crossed off her list of riding destinations for the foreseeable future.

"Good," Jack grunted in relief and approval.

They all turned their attention back to the food on their plates, any further conversation having dried up completely. Mention of Lookout Point and the knowledge of what happened to Val ensured no one would be in the mood to say much of anything else.

***

Easter Monday

"How's Herring doing this morning?" Lisa asked Amy as she walked inside the barn.

"Physically, better. Mentally, not so much," Amy replied with a slight frown. "He still won't go near any of the other horses when I try to turn him out in the paddock. I'm afraid he thinks any large animal is a threat. But like I said, his physical wounds are healing well, thanks to Ty. No signs of infection."

"Okay, good," Lisa said.

"I'm actually thinking of trying a little canine therapy with him."

"Oh?" said Lisa, looking at Amy with interest at this comment.

"Yes," Amy said. "Remi was a great help with that mare-foal pairing we had a few weeks ago. She had a calming effect on the mare. The less we humans interfered, the more Sassy was willing to let the foal approach. The same thing might work for Herring. Remi's a smaller animal than a horse or even a person, so he might not spook so easily in her presence."

"Makes sense," Lisa said with a smile of admiration at Amy's astute observations. "You just keep doing what you do, Amy. I know everything will turn out just fine."

"Thanks, Lisa," Amy said. "You've always had faith in me, right from the start. I don't think I've told you how much that means to me."

"Well, you deserve it, 'Miracle Girl'," Lisa said affectionately. "Okay, I'll let you get back to it. See you later; I'm off to Fairfield."

***

Chapter 4: Let the Dead Bury Their Own Dead

[scintillasofbeomgyu]

winter in itaewon || Choi Beomgyu

Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x gamer!fem!reader

Genre/s: Fluff; Angst; Humor (if you squint)

Word count: 5,0k

Warning/s: it is implied that reader was subject to violence (once); although it says the reader is a gamer, there are not that many references towards to actual gaming lmao; this was proofread like once (😭)

Hyunjin and Jeongin take Beomgyu out to the PC Room in Itaewon for his birthday; a year after their last visit. As he reminisces the events of the year before, every corner of his mind is revisited by her — as if he were capable of forgetting her anyway.

a/n: happy beomgyu day!!💞 the inspiration to write this hit me in the middle of the night, coming from these kickass headcannons by sumi, and it's completely different to the initial idea i shared with amie sksjsjs alsothislowkeysucks. nevertheless, i hope you all enjoy!!

12 March 2021, 23:30

Despite being embraced by his thick padded coat, the freezing air still managed to disrupt the warmth in annoying, sharp gusts every time the wind blew. Itaewon was always more alive while the rest of Seoul slept soundly, and tonight was no exception. The streets were aglow with the lambent signage of the many stalls and establishments which lined it’s pavements, and were filled with clusters of people who either visited the stores, window-shopped or were simply enjoying the night-life.

Beomgyu wasn’t very enthusiastic about joining Hyunjin and Jeongin when they had initially posed the idea. He’d been spending much of his time in the studio and practice room, so the plan was to get some sleep when he had some free time. His conscience eventually got the better of him, though – he hadn’t been able to meet up with his friends in months due to work and the pandemic, and his scheduled birthday live thwarted the possibility of holding it off until the following day.

“Are you good?” Jeongin asked, pulling Beomgyu out of his thoughts, arching a brow at his dazed friend. He noticed that he had been lagging behind the two of them, and that their features were now etched with concern. Beomgyu pushed the bangs out of his face before waving them off, mumbling that he’s okay.

There was a look in their eyes that Beomgyu couldn’t quite decipher, but pushed it off as nothing when Jeongin draped an arm over his shoulder and lead him further down the street. His feet stopped squarely when they made it to the PC Room, cementing themselves before the front door. Jeongin looked at Beomgyu and smiled.

“Are you coming in?”

It wasn’t that Beomgyu didn’t want to respond, he simply couldn’t. Sure, it may have seemed like a trivial thing to answer, the words just wouldn’t formulate coherent sentences – his mind didn’t have the capacity to make them. Her. That was the only thing it could manifest. Her. 

The pressure of a years-worth of his bottled emotions had finally blew it’s top – thoughts, images and memories which had been ingrained into his subconscious coming forth to hit him like a train.

“We’ll wait for you inside, then.”

31 December 2019, 22:00

Laughter ringing through the air, Hyunjin, Jeongin and Beomgyu pushed open the door to the PC Room. Beomgyu stopped at the door while the other two signed in, arms rubbing away the remnants of snow on the arms of his black coat. Removing his mask, he smiled into the warmth of the heated building. Their schedules after debut had left no space for any recreation, so it was liberating to spend New Years Eve with his friends, doing what he does best.

“Ready to have your butts kicked?” Beomgyu cackled, with his whole chest, as they took their seats next to one another in the isle, earning him much-deserved glares. As soon as he’s logged on and the headset is donned however, his usually playful demeanour is replaced by one of a much calmer nature – studying the map, observing enemy tactics and carefully directing his support as his fingers glide skilfully across the keyboard.

Hyunjin groaned after the umpteenth attempt to beat him, dropping the headset onto the desk as Jeongin whined into his hands. A smirk rolled onto Beomgyu’s lips as he leaned back into the swivel chair, flashing his brows at them. “I refuse to believe this is possible, it’s got to be rigged!”

“Ah, after all this time I’ve still got it,” Beomgyu retorted, chuffed with himself for doing as well as he knew he would. Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if I ranked first with the amount of times I kicked ass on this server.”

Jeongin, who had taken it upon himself to do the fact-checking, smirked at the screen before calling the two of them over. “Actually–”

Beomgyu screamed in frustration, tossing the headset onto the desk before pushing against it, sending him flying across the floor in the chair. No matter how hard he tried, no matter the strategy he just couldn’t beat the player in first place. The commotion startled the other two, who had fallen asleep waiting for Beomgyu to finish up, the satisfaction of witnessing his losses long past.

“Just one more game, I swear!” he whined as they dragged him away from the PC screen.

Hyunjin seethed, “that’s what you said three hours ago! No, we’re leaving. Jeongin’s parents have been waiting up for us.”

Beomgyu huffed at the front counter. While the older took care of the bill, he found that the room was completely empty – almost. The light emanating from a desk directly across from where he stood, lit up the face of a young-looking girl. She seemed to be in high school (that’s what the uniform she wore indicated atleast) and the big, round, metal-framed glasses settled on the bridge of her nose, mirrored the computer screen. The sight pacified Beomgyu, for a reason he couldn’t quite explain, a smile stretching across his face.

He sauntered closer, eyes searching around for nothing in particular, trying not to look like a creep as he approached you. His smile only grew when he found her eyebrows knitted together, teeth biting down on her bottom lip in concentration. And then he saw it. The graphics reflecting from her glasses seeming all to familiar to him, he rushed around the desk, eyes darting to the top corner of the screen.

ID: winter996

12 January 2020, 22:30

Beomgyu’s foot tapped impatiently as he waited at the desk closest to the entrance, checking his watch every few minutes, before running a frustrated hand through his soft silvery locks. He had finally gotten the chance to visit the PC room again, most of his time having gone into practice and rehearsals for award show season, and he wasn’t leaving until he saw you again.

He ran out of the practice room as soon as he heard that they would have the following day off; he was exhausted and had been waiting for almost two hours – but he refused to leave until he saw you again.

The owner noticed the boy sitting at the desk he usually reserved for you, lips curling at the sight of the fidgety youth. He had visited on three prior occasions; once with his friends, and the remaining times himself, sitting in exactly the same spot he was now sitting. Instead of chasing him away as he did everyone else, he simply waited to see how this turn of events would unfold.

You pushed open the glass doors with a huff, adjusting the strap of your backpack on your shoulder before blowing the stray hairs from your face. Keeping your eyes fixed on the ground beneath you, you nod to the owner and he returns the gesture with a smile, although he knows you won’t see it.

Beomgyu, who had almost surrendered himself to the fatigue, sat up straight when you pulled back the chair next to him. He watched as you scrunched up your nose in attempt to push your glasses up the bridge of your nose before putting the headset on, and chuckled softly.

He watched in awe as you cleared level after level, climbing the ranks as you went along, with seemingly no effort whatsoever. You kept the mic off and communicated with your group though the chat, which was probably why he never realised you were a girl. Your strategy seemed way too complex for him to understand, and his amazement never faltered for even a second, as you dominated each and every position you played.

It was a little over an hour before you decided to take a break, wondering where the owner was since he usually brought your snacks around that time. Pushing the headset around your neck, you stretched upward to see where he was, only to find yourself roughly pushed back down and turned toward a strange boy whom you’ve never seen before.

His eyes, sparkling with absolute wonder, coaxed your surprise and made your heart race with a feeling as unfamiliar as he was.

“You have to tell me how you do that! Teach me, please, Winter996!”

25 January 2020, 22:30

“Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?” you voice rang from the speaker of Beomgyu’s phone. He never questioned your reasons for not turning your mic on during the game, but insisted that you speak directly to him instead. “On your left, be careful.”

“I know, I see them. And yes, but I have some time before the next session starts.” After much pestering, about something having to do with ‘senseis’ and ‘disciples’, you agreed to let Beomgyu play with you. He was rather beside himself when you told him you never really used any strategy, though; you ‘just did what felt right’.

An adorable smile had tugged at your lips during his three hundred-and-fifty paged slideshow about the importance of strategy and observation, one he would not soon forget.

“You could just wait until Itaewon.”

“Is it my fault you only go when your rank drops?”

Soobin’s dark head of hair popped into the studio, and he glared upon finding Beomgyu tapping away at his laptop on the sofa. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! The break as been over ages ago–”

“(Y/n), (Y/n), go, go! I’ll cover you!”

“Beomgyu, I think–”

“You’re playing again?! With a girl?!”

5 February 2020, 22:00

You’re quieter than usual and Beomgyu noticed right away. Over the phone, you never had any qualms in conversating with him– when you were playing the game, atleast. The thought that it was because of him does cross his mind, but he catches the frown you’re desperately trying to hide, by biting the inside of your cheek.

A thick scarf is wrapped around your neck, your chin buried into the red woolly folds, and your hair frames your face,  but he sees the light swelling on the side of your face and around your eyes that you’re trying to hide. The feeling in the pit of his stomach makes his nails press crescents into the palms of his hands, but he fights the urge to ask.

“Beomgyu! What are you doing! They’re coming!” you yell, pulling him back to reality, hearing the sound of your voice at long last calming him a tad.

“Right, sorry.”

You played together straight through into the early hours of the morning, sharing victory after victory, with him right by your side. You froze up when he instinctively pulled you into a hug upon your last win, gulping as he slowly removed his arms, laughing it off as his adrenaline high peaked higher.

The van’s horn blared outside, catching you both off guard. Beomgyu quickly grabbed his coat before making his way back up the way he came, but paused before he opened the door. Craning his head back to look at you once more, he smiled.

“I’ll text you later.”

12 February 2020, 23:30

Beomgyu’s hands move quickly across the controls, your voice shouting orders to him through the headset as the current game hit it’s climax. Playing with Beomgyu all the time had made you a lot more comfortable with engaging with the other members of your group, so although you were still pretty anxious at first, you made the decision to turn on your mic.

“We did it!” Beomgyu cheered as your team cleared yet another level.

Gaming was something mundane to you and winning was easy; but sneaking out to the PC Room from time to time helped alleviate the pressures of your personal life. The life which you would rather die than share with Beomgyu. But after being swayed by his nonsensical attempts at convincing you, logging onto the server had become your favorite thing to do.

Every victory felt extraordinary when shared with him, and you could have sworn that at that very moment, you could see the way the ends of his eyes creased as the edges of his lips pushed up his cheeks. The way his arms would be stretched up in happiness, as his intoxicating laugher filled the air.

On the other end, Beomgyu leaned back into his desk chair, smiling into the darkness, envisioning the way you’d be pretending it was no big deal whilst your eyes sparkled with happiness and a smile dug into your rosey cheeks.

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

You hummed into the mic, your head rested on the desk and your eyes closed, just listening to his voice, savoring every second of it.

“Do you...have a Valentine or something?”

14 February 2020, 18:00

From the moment the car pulled up down the street, Beomgyu was unable to take his eyes off from you. His eyes travelled up from the scuffed white sneakers which tapped against the pavement nervously, to the washed out jeans, to the oversized cardigan, which bunched up around the wrists of your hands, which shifted between nervously tucking your hair behind your ears, to pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, to straightening out your outfit.

You were going to be the death of him.

He hurried toward you as soon as he saw you shiver. The sound of his soles against the wet concrete caught your attention and you turned in his direction, the look in your eyes nearly resulting in a fatal blow – the way they bewitched nearly had him hitting his head against the sidewalk.

Your hands tightened around the strap of the bag slung around your shoulder as you watched the dark-haired boy make his way down the street to you, a stupidly giddy-looking expression plastered across his face. You couldn’t stop yourself from feeling the way you did about Beomgyu – even though you knew you shouldn’t.

You were never really interested in fan culture, but some of the girls in your cram school were very invested. When you heard them gushing about a group called ‘Tomorrow X Together’ and it’s members the previous afternoon, a knot formed in your stomach. The first thing you did when you got home, was do research. You decided to listen to all of their albums and watch all of their music videos, interviews and content videos. Unsure what to do with all the new-found information and conflicting emotions, you pulled the covers over your head and tried to sleep instead. But you couldn’t.

Beomgyu flicked the side of your head, bringing you back to the present, and your cheeks flushed upon realization of his proximity. He smirked, wrapping his brown scarf around your neck. “It’s still winter you know, Winter. You should dress warmly.”

You clicked your tongue and pouted at his teasing use of your in-game alias, and marched off without him. He trailed behind you, laughing and relieved that you were no longer frowning as you were before. You froze when he caught up with you, feeling the warmth of his hand as it slipped into yours, tucking it into his coat pocket. Burying your face into his scarf, which smelled just like him, you smiled giddily, letting him pull you along with him.

He took you to dinner and the amusement park after that. He was thrilled to know you liked rollercoasters as much as he did and embarrassed to know he couldn’t even beat you at the kid’s games. He ended up going home with a truckload of new plushies, and you, with ever-increasing feelings that you had no idea what to do with.

28 February 2020, 23:42

Beomgyu burst through the doors of the PC Room no longer than 10 minutes after receiving a call from the owner. He still wore his sleepwear, over which his coat was thrown, his hair was disheveled and his bare left foot was stuffed halfway into a sneaker, while his sock-wearing right foot was slipped into a black slipper.

The owner, with worry painted across his features, cocked his head to the desk where the two of you usually sat. His heart ached at the sight of your curled up figure beneath it. Your bloodshot eyes widened when you realized his presence, the surprise enabling him a few seconds to examine you up and down before you turned away from him. Your bottom lip was cut and bruised, your cheek was swollen and bruises were littered across your face and the length of your arms and neck, your hair as messy as his was.

You insisted that you’re okay, even though he took you into his arms without asking anything at all. You insisted that you’re okay, but as his warmth enveloped you, tears began streaming down your face. He felt the way your body trembled in his arms, so he begins rocking you back and forth slowly, pressing soft kisses into your hair, whispering a single phrase over and over again.

“I’m here.”

4 March 2020, 19:00

Due to the pandemic, one of the award show ceremonies the boys were supposed to attend had been cancelled and moved to a later date. Worried that they’d feel disheartened about their performance, you decided to host a little award ceremony of your own. His friends were as welcoming as he was, so you quickly got along- even more so since Beomgyu stuck even closer to you since that day.

“The first award of the evening,” you announced, clearing your throat in the middle of the living room. The boys, who were cheering your on from their seats on the dorm sofa, quieted down as Yeonjun hushed them, gesturing for you to continue, “goes to a very versatile young man. The winner of the ‘Fourth Generation It Boy – In Everything Except Braincells’ Daesang, goes too, you guessed it, Choi Yeonjun!”

The rest erupted in laughter as an exasperated Yeonjun made his way to where you stood, empty wrappers crackling under his feet. He threw a glare at the boys before he bowed before you in the most formal way possible, and you handed him the pretty mediocre, handmade certificate, before enamored laughter spilled from his lips.

Soobin received an award for being the ‘Best Leader of the Greatest Global Shookies’, to which he sighed. Taehyun received the Grand Award ‘The Best Son, Our King, Vocalist Kang’, which the rest labelled unfair and favoritism. Kai received the ‘Gotta Hit That High Note Like-’ award, which he proudly accepted with absolutely no complaints, beaming at the poorly made certificate.

“And last, but not least,” you started, peaking at Beomgyu from the corner of you eyes, determination almost faltering at the sight of his anticipating countenance. Peering down at the clipboard in your hands, you frowned, “well, I guess that’s all we have for tonight, folks-”

The sound of their hearty laughter filled the dorm once again, Yeonjun nearly toppling over the armrest of the sofa. Beomgyu nodded, tongue in cheek, clearly bothered by the whole ordeal. You joined in on the laughter, before glancing back to the clipboard, your heart rate picking up a little.

“Oh, what’s this?” you feigned surprise, “We have two more awards left! To Choi Beomgyu,” you said, pausing to steady your breath, refusing to make eye contact with him, “goes the award for ‘The Most Annoying Amateur Gamer-” laughter once more, Beomgyu joining in this time, “Best Friend and Utterly Talented All-rounder’. And lastly, to Tomorrow X Together for ‘Best Group of All Time’!” you cheered, relieved that they all got up and cheered as well, without teasing you.

Beomgyu took your hand and slipped the certificate from the board. You may have been embarrassed at the self-proclaimed ‘lousy’ attempt at decorating his certificate, but within seconds, that sheet of colored board became the most important thing to him in the world - his most prized possession. He pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and the rest all joined in without a second to spare, endlessly praising you and expressing their affection as you giggled in response.

Later on that evening, after you left and the others were fast asleep, he laid on his bed, limbs splayed across the comforter. He sighed dreamily up at the ceiling, bringing his hands up to cover the bashful grin playing on his lips. He turned his head ever-so slightly, and peeked through the spaces between his fingers at the certificate perched on his night-stand and sighed again.

What was he going to do with you.

13 March 2020, 20:00

You pushed aside everything that had been happening in your life to be happy on your best friend’s birthday. You were convinced it was the least you could do in return for everything he did for you. Deciding to host something small at the PC Room, the owner was pretty enthusiastic to make a contribution to the happiness of his ‘favourite patrons’, you invited his members and some of his closest friends.

Although Beomgyu would have loved to spend the day with just you, he was extremely grateful to know efforts you had made to make him enjoy his day. You had been chattering away with the owner at the front desk, but somewhere amidst conversation with Taehyun, he had lost sight of you. He frowned, apologizing to Taehyun before excusing himself.

Ready to grab his coat and leave, he stopped in his tracks when the lights were shut off. Slowly, the room was illuminated once more, by the flickering flames atop birthday candles, and the enormous smile across your face as you sang, “happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,...”

The cake, in the shape of a bear and embellished with chocolate decorations of every variety, was placed on the table in front of where the rest had seated him. Eyes not once leaving you, absolutely entranced by your beauty, Beomgyu gulps, his heart racing a million miles an hour.

“Make a wish, before the wax gets onto the cake, Dummy.”

He pulls his lip between his teeth and flicks the top of your head gently, chuckling softly, before clasping his hands together and closing his eyes. For a reason unknown to him, Beomgyu couldn’t think of something to wish for. No, rather, he knew exactly why he had no idea what to wish for. He opened his eyes once more, and grinned at your anticipating face, the pining in his chest only running deeper and deeper.

He blew out the candles.

“What did you wish for-”

Beomgyu grabbed your hand and pulled you with him as he ran out onto the wet Itaewon streets. You didn’t run too far, before he pulled you into one of the alleyways. Completely lost for words and a little out of breath, you stood there, staring at him. The same puzzled look you had given him when you first met is etched into your face and his lips curl upward. Your breathing hitches as he takes a step closer to you and he pushes the rain-soaked hair from your face, eyes flitting to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

He pulled your chest flush against his and it was quiet for a moment. Quiet, save for the sound of the rain pitter-pattering across the rooftops and the alley floor; quiet, save for the sound of your thumping hearts.

“I love you.”

He feels you tense up, so he tightens his embrace. There is a silence again, and it is a lot less pleasant than the first. The sound of your sniffling alarms him, so he brings your face to meet his, his heart aching at the tears dripping down your face. You start making attempts to break free of his hold, shaking your head and him, whimpers escaping your lips every time you tried to speak.

Tears now streamed down his face too, a piece of him torn away each time you pushed him away. Beomgyu fought desperately to keep you in his arms, but before he knew it, you had slipped right through his fingers.

“I’m sorry.” was the last thing he heard you say through persisting sobs, before you disappeared down the street, without a trace.

30 June 2020

Beomgyu smiled before the cameras and press, laughing along with interviewers and staff members like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

You had been missing for over three months. You blocked his number. You didn’t log onto the game, someone else had long taken your position on the leader board. After composing himself that day, he had bolted after you, but it was as if you had vanished off the face of the earth. Beomgyu stopped by the PC Room as much as he could in the following days, his condition only worsening each time he did, but due to the growing numbers of positive cases and the increasing amount of work scheduled for him, the time he spent there was limited.

When he did go, he sat in your chair, staring at the front door until he had to leave. The owner, who had been watching him in sympathy, called him up to the desk one day before he left – the last day the owner saw him. He looked sleep-deprived and downcast, the same pained expression drawn into his features every time he left.

“She... came here a lot. I think her first visit was around the time she was in middle school. She never spoke much, and never seemed to have any friends,” The owner told him, looking out to the isles of computers in front of him, before turning back to Beomgyu. “The first time I saw her talk- no, the first time I saw her smile, was with you. She liked you...alot.”

Beomgyu sighed, with a short, hollow chuckle.

“I know.”

12 March 2021, 23:55

The room was empty and dark when Beomgyu finally walked in, eyebrows knitted together as he tried to see through the darkness. He tried calling out for Hyunjin and Jeongin, but the only replies he received was the wind rattling the window-blinds.  

The flickering of candles illuminate the room, just like they did many months ago, and Beomgyu’s heart stopped. He tried to not look disappointed when it turned out to be his members with Hyunjin and Jeongin carrying the cake, singing happy birthday to him with the most excited expressions on their faces, but his throbbing chest betrayed him.

They brought the cake up until where he stood and Yeonjun arched a brow, a knowing smirk rolling onto his lips. “You really do have a wild imagination, don’t you? Ow!” he cried, when Beomgyu hit his arm. “Ugh, just make a wish already.”

Beomgyu clasped his hands tightly before him and squeezed his eyes shut, just as he did before. Only this time, he knew exactly what he wanted. The subject of his pining, worry, and love. Her. He would give anything to see her, just one last time.

And when he opened his eyes, that was exactly what he found in front of him.

“Happy Birthday, Choi Beomgyu.”

The lights went back on, and Beomgyu blinked repeatedly, making sure that it wasn’t just his mind playing tricks on him. But there you were, with tears brimming your eyes, in all your glory, the love of his life. 

He takes in all the little changes, like your trimmed hair, and that fact that you seemed to have lost weight – which made him frown. And then there was that smile, that dazzling smile, which only seemed to shine brighter now than it did before.

Your hands tremor a bit, the way he just stares at you making your heart leap. “I-I’m sor-”

The cake hit the floor with a plop, eliciting laughter from the others as he wraps his arms around your figure and he reels you into his arms in one swift movement. You feel his tears soak into your blouse, and you hold onto him tighter, your eyes already wet from your own tears. You were finally with him – you were finally home.

The owner gathered everyone together for a photo towards the end of the celebration, Beomgyu following suit wherever you went, refusing to let go of your hand for even a second. You offered him a loving smile when Hyunjin teased him for it, and placed a soft kiss to the back of his hand.

Beomgyu lead you up to the rooftop to see the sunrise, momentarily letting go of your hand to flush your back against his chest, before grabbing hold of it, and the other hand, again. The bright orange and yellow rays peeked from behind the mountain in the distance, and you had never felt more at peace.

You recalled the way your chest tightened and the way tears burned at the corners of your eyes upon receiving his confession a year ago. You had been so happy. So, so happy. But you knew you could not accept him. At the time, you knew that you were in no place to be with someone like him. He was, and is, too wonderful for someone as messed up as you are. You didn’t want burden him with your issues, not when his career had just taken off.

“Beomgyu?” he hummed from where his head against yours, “I love you.”

You stepped away from his embrace, giggling when you noticed the way he pouted. Your turned to face him properly, before attaching your arms around his waist. “Back then... I was in a really bad space. It’s not excuse, and I certainly shouldn’t have run away from you. I...have gotten help ever since, and I want to tell you my story. Would you like to hear it?”

He leaned back and thought for a moment. He then cupped the side of your face with his hand and ran his thumb across your cheek, before pulling you in to press a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Whatever you’re willing to share, I will listen to and accept with open arms. I love you for who you are; and that includes everything that has shaped, and will shape you into the amazing person I already know you are.”

“That includes the way you absolutely kick my ass at gaming.”

[wtf-yoongi]

Warm inside. / MYG

pairing | yoongi x reader

summary | yet another one that features yoongi being cute in bed

genre/warnings | disgustingly fluffy + one suggestive line towards the end

words | 1,080

note | i was thinking i need to find a way to mention cupping therapy and the only way to do that is by having yoongi shirtless somehow… yeah all that bc of some cupping marks on his back i need help?

edit: this was posted the day before bh released the statement about yoongi’s shoulder and it features yoongi complaining about it. bad timing i guess but i just wanted to say it wasn’t my intention to take advantage of the situation. sorry!

You’re only three minutes into the ride home when you notice you miss the feeling of Yoongi’s hand on you while you drive.

It’s such a simple and familiar action — his hand on your tight, fingers caressing lightly whether it’s you or him driving —, so common you’ve associated being in a car with his unsettling hands on you at all times. So automatic you’re confident it’s one of those endearing things Yoongi does without thinking — one of the thousands you’ve had and still have the pleasure and privilege to figure out, one by one.

Time slows down when the only thing your brain can focus on is the fact that, this time around, these thoughts don’t immediately translate into a permanent pout on your lips, feeling miserable for a whole weekend or longing for something you know won’t happen anytime soon. 

This time, it calms your heart to realize he’s home. To think he’s such a close distance from you makes the world look a bit more colorful, almost as if someone has adjusted the tones to be brighter and a little bit more saturated. Just enough for the silliest of things to bring a smile to your face. Suddenly, everything’s in bloom, there are nothing but happy dogs walking down the street and sappy love songs playing on the radio.

You hate it how much you love them.

This is only intensified when you get home, by the way Yoongi’s shoes are haphazardly thrown by the door and the obvious perfume trail he leaves behind despite not wearing much of it. How ridiculous is it to think you’re so weak for him and having him around you notice and list these little things all the time — the laptop on the sofa with headphones on top of it, the leftover iced coffee above the sink, the shirt on the back of one of the dining room chairs, keys and wallet on the table. None of this happens when you’re alone — they only happen when he’s home.

It should drive you mad, yes. You would be the first to give whoever it is a dirty look, show how much you disapprove of such messy behavior. You know this because you’ve done it before — to people you have shared an apartment with, to your closest friends when they visit, to your parents whenever you go back to your hometown, to past boyfriends who could never clean after themselves. 

But, for some reason, not to him. You never got mad because Yoongi would be the first to apologize for being sloppy and leaving things behind. He’d place a kiss on your shoulder and say he would clean up later like everyone else says, but he actually does. Not because he’s an inherently neat person, but because you like it that way. You are the orderly person in this relationship and he just wants to see you happy at all times.

So, instead of picking up all the things and taking them to their correct places by the door, in the office and hanging in the closet, you leave them behind as well. You laugh at yourself for doing this — for adding your own mess to Yoongi’s by leaving you shoulder bag dangling just next to his shirt, your keys on top of his, sunglasses right next to the bunch. Like him, you would deal with them later, when your priorities have been taken care of.

Today, your priority is him. Just Yoongi. Nothing else.

The trail of perfume you felt earlier is replaced by that grapefruit scented shower gel he loves the closer you get to the bedroom. There, you notice a pile of body half covered by the white sheets and you open the en-suite door just to confirm Yoongi has taken a shower before going to bed. You desperately want to join him and move around quickly and quietly to gather some clothes to freshen up. Even showering when the bathroom is already humid and slightly steamy makes you warm inside and you swear to all the gods you’ve lost it this time.

When you leave the bathroom with nothing but a loose and thin t-shirt, the steps that take you to the bed seem longer than ever. You pull the sheets to cover yourself, snuggling closer to Yoongi’s body, and that’s when you finally notice there’s nothing covering his back. You touch the skin there, hands hot from the summer weather and the shower against cold skin, and pull the sheets further to cover his shoulders and avoid a cold.

“Get your burning hot hands off of me,” Yoongi hums lowly, contradicting his words by reaching for your hand with his and dragging it across his bare chest, bringing you closer. “Do you know how long it took for me to cool down after the shower?”

“Of course…” You giggle, draping a leg right where his hip began. “You take boiling hot showers, what can I do?”

“Boiling hot showers are the best,” Yoongi defends himself, sighing contently and pulling your hand even closer. “Almost as great as you are.”

Yoongi is a little bitter he can’t see the smile he’s feeling on his back right now.

“Did my jet lagged baby get some rest today?”

“He did.” Yoongi nods and lets out a breathy laugh that moves his shoulders and makes your chin collide with it. His smile immediately disappears from his face to be replaced by a cute frown. “That… Is a little sore.”

You whisper a tiny sorry before creating a small distance between you and the round reddish bruises near his shoulder blades. You’re a little more delicate now, touching them gently and leaving a soft kiss there. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Ah,” he moans again, clearly dissatisfied. “I’ve had it worse before, it’s fine. It’s probably a good thing we have some time off of performances now. It’ll give this thing some rest.”

You kiss the cupping mark again, wishing with all your being it would just fade and stop feeling sore. “Good.”

“It’s also probably a good thing we were very slow and lazy yesterday, because I don’t think this thing could have taken anything harder than that.”

You chuckle, leaving yet another kiss on his back. “Noted. All soft until this thing heals. I’m totally okay with that.”

“Yeah, yeah… Now will your body to cool down too, otherwise I’m going to have to let go of you and I don’t want to.”

Read more ›› masterlist

[ot7always]

My Fair Lady

Word Count: 8.1k

Pairing: Crown Prince!Taehyung x Captain of the Guard!Reader

Genre: Historical/Fantasy AU, fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: Sparring (swordfight/fistfight), I’ve literally never fenced in my life I’m sorry for any errors, pining, mentions of battle scars, angst angst angst, angsty sex, crying during sex (and not in a sexy way), unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, it’s super angsty but I promise it’ll be okay

Rating: 18+

Summary: His brother unable to spar with him that day, Crown Prince Taehyung comes to you in need of a partner. 

A/N: This fic was such a wild ride of a writing experience, and I literally lost chunks of writing because of my laptop crashing multiple times. But this fic is my baby, please let me know what you think!

Huge thanks to @wwilloww​​ for beta reading for me, and also @peekaboongi​​ for crying with me as I wrote.

Tagging @moonmintrails​​ @ppersonna​​ @irissilujm​​ @dee-ehn​​

Masterlist

--

You gaze swept across the palace training grounds, hands clasped firmly behind your back. You watched as your soldiers trained, whether it be alone or with each other, and kept an eye out for any glaring errors – incorrect form, weak footwork, and the like.

As the youngest Captain of the Guard in history, it was your duty to ensure each of your soldiers, men and women alike, were in prime condition. Though the position was not passed through bloodlines, you had taken over from your father following his retirement from duty. He was a very well-respected man, and you were determined not to disappoint him. You would continue to prove time and time again that you deserved the honour of your place.

You kept your eyes forward even as you sensed a tall presence settle beside you, taking on a similar stance to your own.

“My Lady,” a deep voice greeted. Your nose crinkled at the title. While it was true your family was of noble station, you much preferred to be addressed as “Captain.” You sought to distance yourself from your cousins who enjoyed hosting fancy balls and tittering about the latest messenger visiting from overseas.

You gave the man beside you a brief once-over, eyes quickly returning to your soldiers in the field. The Crown Prince was looking particularly fresh today, white cotton shirt laced neatly and tucked into black pants that moulded to him like water. His dark curls appeared freshly washed, small tendrils swaying in the wind, having escaped the small tie at the nape of his neck. He smelled suspiciously of lavender. Perhaps he had been delving into his sister’s perfumes once again.

“Your Highness,” you nodded curtly, ignoring the pang in your chest at his appearance. While you tried to put up a good front, you were not immune to the Prince’s charms.

“You know I don’t like when you call me that,” he smiled bashfully at his feet before turning the entirety of his attention to you. “I am in need of a favour,” he continued, gaze imploring.

“What can I do for you, Your Highness?” you responded, suppressing a smirk when you heard him sigh at your words. Having grown up around him, even sharing lessons and training together before you surpassed his abilities, you would consider the two of you friends – more, even. However, you had an image to keep up, barriers that needed to be kept in place lest anyone question your ability to prioritize the royal family’s safety without distraction.

“I require a sparring partner.”

“Do you forget yourself, Your Highness?” you grinned at the notion. Not many dared to challenge you to a fight, and the last time Taehyung matched you in skill he was perhaps a foot or two shorter.

“I beg of you, Captain. My brother is feeling out of sorts and I am in need of a distraction. I have been meeting with courtiers all morning and I cannot begin to express how tiring-”

“He’s taken ill?” you cut in, eyes wide and tone laced with concern as you finally turned to give the Prince your undivided attention. His younger brother was only 15, and you had developed a soft spot for the boy over the years. The plague which tended to come and go from your Kingdom was no joke. While many recovered, many more slowly but surely lost their lives.

“Don’t worry yourself too much, My Lady. Our doctors have assured us it is simply a minor ailment.” His heart warmed at your obvious affection for his brother, knowing how much you cherished his younger siblings. He wondered whether he himself held a similar place in your heart. “Let’s not concentrate on that which will resolve itself quickly in time. Rather, I am still in dire need of a partner. Please?” he appeased, giving you his best impression of a pout. You tried not to crack a smile at the resemblance to his sister.

Your hesitation did not last long – you found it difficult to deny Taehyung anything, not that he asked much of you very often. “Very well, then. Though, we are not exactly dressed for the occasion, are we?” you chuckled, meeting his eyes. It was true. Having only recently left a meeting with those who would accompany Their Majesties to town the next day, you were dressed in a white blouse, dark leather bodice laced on top. While your leather boots allowed for sufficient footwork, the suppressed movement of your torso was not exactly ideal for a fight.

“We both know that you are more than capable of fighting in such attire. Come,” he said, giving you no time to refuse before you were led to the central combat ring. The ring was often used to host friendly tournaments and was clearly visible from any spot in the field.

“Are you so keen to showcase your defeat to my entire squadron?” you teased, shooting the Prince a grin as you caught the foil he tossed to you. Light, thin, and dull, it ensured you did not cause any serious injury lest you accidentally hit him. Cotton, after all, was not the most ideal material to prevent bruising. As for you? Well, you didn’t plan on getting hit anyway.

You took up your position opposite him, bent slightly at the knee, sword in hand, opposing hand clenched comfortably behind your back. You watched as Taehyung settled into the same posture. You clicked your tongue in disapproval upon seeing his form. Shoulders tense already, you sighed. Well, you would just have to see if he fixed his error later on.

“Ready when you are, Sweet Prince,” you smirked, exhaling a laugh as his face flushed. It was a nickname given to him by the men and women he’d seduced and bedded over the years. Even if he’d invited them into his bed only once and never again, they never stopped singing his praises. A part of you was desperate to know what he did to impress them.

“I don’t have all day, Your Highness,” you called out, smile slowly lighting up your face at his embarrassment. A lie, of course. If he asked you to stand there and wait for hours while you simply stared at each other you would do it. You liked to tell yourself it was because of your royal duty, but in reality you had never been able to say no to him, even in your childhood. There was something so charming yet shy, so mature yet naïve about him, that had you wishing for his happiness at every moment. He was a walking contradiction you wanted nothing more than to solve.

Having collected himself, Taehyung launched himself at you quickly, sword flying its way toward your shoulder – easily parried. You figured the two of you would ease into a proper match. After all, neither of you were properly warmed up, and you refused to listen to the Prince’s complaining of sore muscles if you could avoid it.

You remained light on your feet, focusing solely on defending against his basic lunges rather than attempting to retaliate. That would come in time. It wouldn’t be so enjoyable if you didn’t toy with him just a little, right?

After several minutes of rather simple steps, you figured you were ready to break a sweat. The next time his blade swung at you, you batted it aside and thrust your own at his chest, tip poking into his shirt before he could even blink.

“Come now, Your Highness. Shall we see what my father taught you?” you taunted, backing away to your original position. Your heart warmed when you saw the fire light in his eyes at the challenge, his playful expression temporarily replaced by sheer focus. You couldn’t conclude which was more handsome.

The next time he flew at you, it was with newfound ardour, the clink of metal on metal a familiar symphony to your ears. The Prince was skilled, you would give him that. Not that you were surprised – you recalled a time in his youth when he dedicated himself fully to training in this exact spot.

You gave yourself fully to your reflexes, blade swinging left, right, and circling round as you blocked his attacks. Quickly side-stepping a stab toward your neck, you grinned. Despite your original hesitance, you were enjoying yourself. Seeing the sweat form on Taehyung’s brow from his effort, you were happy to see him dedicate himself to something so completely. His technique focused on agility over power, something well-suited to his long limbs and lean muscle. You were the same – fight smart, not hard, your father used to tell you.

Backing away suddenly, Taehyung pouted slightly as he caught his breath. “I can tell that you are going easy on me, Captain. At least try to hit me, I swear to you that I can handle it.” You chuckled at his words.

“Very well, Your Highness. Though if I may point out, perhaps it would serve you better if you relaxed your muscles more. How can you expect to hit me when your shoulder fails to follow through?” you chided. Taehyung bit his lip at your words.

“My apologies, Captain. I find it difficult when I am near you.” Your brows furrowed, unsure whether you heard correctly. He has trouble relaxing around you? You preferred not to pick apart such a statement.

In answer, you lunged at him, a tide of satisfaction flowing through you when he moved immediately in response. You allowed him to continue on the offensive, though this time you followed up every few parries with a riposte, ensuring you never actually hit him with your blade.

Steel was flying through the air so fast it was a blur, your focus lying solely on the flurry of blades between your bodies. You quickly lost track of time, though based on the slight burn in your calves the activity must have gone on for quite a while.

It became almost like a rhythm – feet dancing, you blocked thrice, circling around for a responding thrust. Little did you know, in your focus you missed Taehyung’s wistful glances as he took in your appearance – gaze sharp, hair around your face flying as it escaped your tight knot at the back.

While you did your best not to make contact, your efforts were not perfect. Because as the Prince stepped left rather than right as you had expected, your blade made full and hard contact with his abdomen, confirmed by the faint oof that accompanied the motion. Broken out of your trance, you stared wide-eyed. “My apologies-”

You let down your guard for only a moment, but it was enough for him to swipe your blade aside, his own resting right between your collarbones. Raising your eyes to meet his own, you found only a grin, no sign of pain. That little-

“KIM TAEHYUNG!!!” you bellowed, ignoring the nearby gasps at your blatant show of disrespect. The eldest soldiers only shook their heads in dismay, having become used to your antics over the years. You whipped the side of his blade with your own, force enough to send it flying out of his grasp. “I was worried about you!” you shouted, stalking your way over to his retreating body, met only by a full-bodied laugh and hands raised to defend himself.

He took hold of your shoulders, keeping you at arms’ length as you glared up at him. The look only sent him into another fit of laughter. “The look on your face was magnificent, Captain,” he snickered, ignoring the betrayal on your face. “I’m perfectly fine, also. You needn’t worry so much-”

“Oh, you will not be fine by the time I’m done with you, Your Highness,” you seethed, picking up his discarded blade only to chuck it at him with just a little more force than necessary. “If you wanted a fight, Kim Taehyung, you’ve found one. I will pray for your recovery.”

Taking up your position for the third time of the afternoon, you scanned his features opposite you. He had no blaring weak spots, though you would be surprised if he did after all his years of training. He was fast, though you would bet that you were faster. Defeating him at his full capabilities would not be extremely easy, but if you gave it perhaps 80% you supposed you could be done within minutes.

“Any last words?” you goaded, grinning at the fleck of worry that crossed his face. “You look afraid, Your Highness.”

“It is perhaps in my best interest to remain a bit afraid, My Lady,” he chuckled lightly, eyes keen as they awaited your first movement. The narrowed your eyes, taking him in, planning your actions. He’s not wrong, you thought. Everyone in this field was just a little bit afraid.

Taehyung jumped when your blade made contact with his own, a high-pitched screech ringing out as he fought you off. You gave him no time to contemplate his own actions before you lunged relentlessly at him, delivering strike after strike without pause. He was forced to remain on the defensive, putting in his full effort to parry and step away in time.

Despite his struggle, you were impressed he was able to keep up with you as well as he was. He’s been training more, you noted. His improvement was clear compared to the last time you fought only several months ago. However, in a game of stamina, you were sure to win.

The top of your bodice dug sharply into your chest as your breaths quickened, but you were no stranger to discomfort. Over time you had learned to put aside such trivial things. Aches and pains were part of your job, and you’d be damned if you didn’t do it well.

Unwilling to let go of your pride, your steps quickened, Taehyung’s blade moving frantically to keep up but inevitably slowing slightly as you did not give him time to breathe. If you hadn’t focused all of your energy into this alone with no distractions, you perhaps would have poked fun at him.

When his sword arm lagged only slightly behind, arms slightly too wide, slightly too open, you struck hard. Batting his blade to the side only centimetres above where he held it in his grasp, you simpered, watching his shocked face as his blade went flying. His eyes darted between you and the blade, metres away, seemingly contemplating whether to give up or to pounce on it.

“What now, Little Prince? If this were a battlefield, would you simply cower in fear?” you coerced, eyes predatory. Perhaps it was sadistic of you, but you relished in the look of dismay in Taehyung’s face. He’d been thoroughly defeated – it was only a matter of how long you would draw it out.

Tossing your own foil to the side, you stretched your limbs before beckoning him over, fists positioned in front of you. It was a petty move and you knew it, for soldiers were much more well-versed in hand-to-hand combat than the Crown Prince, who was known to favour his swords and bows.

Taehyung had no complaints, however. A fight was a fight, after all. As he came after you with one, two, three jabs to your chest, you danced aside as you evaded easily. The difference in speed between his punches and sword thrusts were clear, the former much less practiced than the latter.

You unfortunately had not thought this idea through, because your options for victory without injuring the Prince were limited. While you were aware Taehyung would not mind, it would not be the best image for you to beat the life out of the Kingdom’s Crown Prince in open view of a squadron sworn to protect him.

“Are you so eager for my company that you would draw this out?” he joked, a weak punch toward your face easily shoved out of the way by your forearm. “Or perhaps you find pleasure in cornering me, My Lady?”

“You think so highly of yourself, Your Highness. Is it so disconcerting to find yourself put in your place every so often?”

“Quite the opposite, I think. I’ve never enjoyed myself so much,” he beamed, eyes shining. “I’ve quite missed you, Captain.” You faltered at the admission. While you loved to give him a hard time, you knew he was well aware of your fondness for him. However, you don’t believe you’ve ever said something so forthright to each other, and the statement awakened something in you that you thought you had buried deep.

Noting your slightly frozen state, Taehyung charged at you. However, you would not be fooled twice. The audacity of this man-

Twisting your arm to grab hold of his, you leaped forward. Suddenly taking the force of your full weight, Taehyung had nowhere to go but down, groaning as his back thudded against the canvas floor. Knee digging itself into the Prince’s ribcage below you, you sighted your previously discarded blade nearby. Grabbing hold of it, you held it to his throat.

“Yield,” you whispered, words escaping you much softer than intended. He made no effort to move, only staring up into your face with unspeakable emotion.

“And what if I am happy where I am, My Lady?” he murmured, taking in your appearance. Chest heaving, escaped hair wet with sweat, blouse crinkled – you were perhaps the finest sight he’d ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. Though his words might have been taken for humour, you saw the look on his face. He didn’t even attempt to mask the desire, shameless through and through.

Before you could even think to respond, smatterings of applause broke out across the field at your victorious display, though they could not even begin to understand what was happening between the two of you. Moment broken, you quickly hopped up, helping Taehyung to his feet but avoiding his gaze. You were afraid to admit how much your heart fluttered when you heard his words, afraid of how much it would hurt when you would be forced to walk away and never speak of this moment again.

It was for the best.

“Y/N,” he called out softly, hands reaching for your own, but maintaining a respectful distance. Your eyes flew up to meet his, unused to hearing your own name in the palace nowadays. The look he gave you was honest, sincere. “Do you feel this too?”

You paused. Though he didn’t quite say what this meant, you could guess. In fact, his knowing gaze told you he only wanted you to admit what he already knew. The man had always been perceptive, and you had more memories with him than with your own family. You were certain he was familiar with your every expression. After all, you could write novels about his face – the way his eyes shone in his passion, the way the corners of his lips twitched when he was repressing a scowl.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Pleading ignorance was the best defense. Admitting to your desires was foolish, and would not change your circumstances. You knew this was deeper than physical desires, but that just made it all the more impossible. Princes were destined for arranged marriage – nobody could simply form a relationship with a future King, least of all the soldier who has pledged her life to his parents. No, a proper relationship was not within the realm of possibility. But neither could you lay with the Crown Prince in good conscience – how would the public trust you to put the King and Queen’s safety above all else if you were warming their Prince’s bed?

Every option to act on your desires was fated for failure.

Taehyung’s hands moved from your palms to your wrists, his thumbs pressing into your pulse firmly. “Your heart is racing,” he murmured, eyes staring into your own as though he knew your every secret. “Why do you hide it?”

“You know why,” you stated, voice soft. “Of course I feel it, but it matters not.” The admission coming from your own lips shocked you. You had danced around each other for years, orbiting each other like binary stars, but you’d never admitted your attraction to him.

“It matters to me,” he whispered, thumb stroking at the soft skin of your wrists with care. “Come to my chambers after dinner.”

Your brows shot up at the suggestion. This was not a light request. You were no longer children, no longer laughed in his company until the maids shooed you away, chiding you for making so much noise.

This was real. As much as you grew to accept your desires, you had never even fathomed acting on them. Not when you knew it couldn’t last – not when your reputation, perhaps even your position, were at stake. “Your Highness, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Please,” he begged, staring into you with an expression you would liken to a puppy begging for scraps. You attempted to turn away, but he only followed. “Please,” he repeated, noting your conflicted expression. It was hard to deny him anything when he was looking at you like that, but even harder to deny yourself when every part of you wanted nothing more than to say yes.

“Very well,” you breathed, sealing your fate. “I shall come when the clock strikes eight, Your Highness.”

--

You couldn’t do it. As much as your heart craved him more than anything, you couldn’t. He was untouchable. If you were any other person, if you were just a court lady, you would jump at the chance. It wasn’t a secret that the Prince has had many partners, and nobody gave it a second thought. But to be with you?

It was improper. Impossible. How could you be trusted to do your duty fully and objectively if you’d laid with the Crown Prince?

After bathing, you made your way to his bedchambers, clad only in a loose blouse and cotton pants, hair flowing freely around your shoulders, still wet. You could not join him in his bed, but he at least deserved a rejection in person rather than your absence.

Knocking lightly on the door, you were startled when it swung open, your arm still raised. He gave you such a sweet smile it was almost painful, still dressed in his earlier attire but hair loose around his face. You stepped into the room, taking in its appearance, having not seen the room in years. It smelled of him, of vanilla and lavender and musk, a scent you would breathe for the rest of your life if it was possible. The room was exactly as you remembered it, mostly barren if not for the set of throwing knives on display – a gift from your father for the Prince’s coming-of-age.

“I’m so glad you came-”

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off, turning to face him. “I came to put a stop to this before it’s begun, Your Highness. You're trying to start something that will be too painful to cease.” Your words struck him, and it physically pained you to see his face transform from excitement to distress.

“But I am not imagining what we have, am I? I have longed for you for years. Am I wrong to think you have too?” he pleaded.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Your Highness. We can’t possibly do this – think about it. Not only that, I cannot have the palace thinking I earned my position through your bed. There are so many reasons we cannot – I want you but I cannot have you!” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, but you couldn’t help it in your grief. Eyes brimming with unshed tears of frustration, it hurt to look at him standing so close, and yet so out of reach.

At your anguish, Taehyung reached for your face, thumbs wiping away the tears you didn’t even notice had fallen. His tenderness only sent another wave of sorrow through you, chest heavy. “I’m sorry. I know it was selfish to call you here. I know this is easier for me than you. Please forget I ever asked.”

“I know it’s wrong, but...”

“But?” he urged gently.

“Is it so foolish that I want it anyway?” you whispered. You looked at him wide-eyed, gaze pained, searching his face as if it held the answers to the universe. For you, perhaps it did.

“Y/N...” he begun, the sweet sound of your name coming from his lips the final nail in your coffin. Denying that you wanted this more than anything would be the greatest lie you’ve ever told. It was brash, and stupid, and irresponsible, but you wanted to feel this at least once. You wanted to indulge in his touch, his affection. You needed to feel his hands on you, his mouth on your skin, and you didn’t know if you would ever be brave enough to accept him again if you didn’t do it now.

“It can only be once. Nobody can know.” You couldn’t risk the noblewomen catching on to your activities. They were unusually observant, and you didn’t doubt their abilities to discern your relationship with even the faintest of hints. Taehyung knew better than anybody that the palace ladies treated gossip as currency, and word traveled especially quickly on matters involving him. He nodded at your words, but the grave look on his face told you he wished things were different.

“I will cherish our time together, My Lady” he breathed, but his conflicted expression spoke volumes. “We don’t have to do this-”

You shook your head, closing the space between you until your chests were pressed together. Stomach in knots and chest tight, you ran your fingers along his broad chest and down to his abdomen before wrapping them loosely around his waist. You would savour every touch, make note of every expression, save away every delightful noise from his lips, and you would pray for it to be enough to satiate you for a lifetime. Because it had to be.

Tilting your head back to meet his eyes, your heart nearly leapt from your throat at the look on his face. The adoration, the warmness – but most of all, the pain. This was torture for both of you, and you knew it. It was selfish and self-destructive, but the two of you always seemed to bring out both the best and the worst in each other.

Without speaking, you reached up to grab hold of his head, yanking it down to smash your lips together without ceremony. He responded with fervor, moving against you, arms tugging until there was not even a millimetre of space between your bodies. You tried not to think about the desperation in your movements, the saltiness of the tears still present on your face. You dragged your hands over the planes of his chest and down to his biceps, nails digging in slightly when he bit at your bottom lip.

Harshly tugging his shirt from his waistband, you traced your nails up his bare skin, relishing in the uneven breath he let out in response. You would dedicate yourself to memorizing every inch of him. Every dip, every curve would be ingrained in your mind for eternity, your hands tracing patterns into his skin like a brush on canvas.

He did the same to you, his large hands finding their way beneath your blouse and chemise, lifting them both above your head to toss them to the floor. You were bare underneath, having planned to leave for your own bedchambers only minutes after arriving. He sucked in a breath at the sight of you on display entirely for him. His careful fingers traced the scars on your abdomen, accumulated through years of training and fighting on the frontlines. While ugly, you were not ashamed – these were proofs to others and to yourself that you would put your Kingdom above all else.

Bending at the knee, he traced his mouth down your jaw, down your throat, kissing you reverently as he continued his path. Passing over your breasts, he moved lower to mouth gently at the scars littering your belly, his gentle presses causing new tears to spring to your eyes. Was this how it felt to be worshipped? To be loved?

Taehyung took in the sorrow painting your features, but did not comment. There was nothing to be said – he understood perfectly. Perhaps if he pressed his face more firmly into the softness of your skin, he would spare you having to see the twin look of despair he was unable to hide.

Sliding a hand into his hair, you softly brushed it away from his face, gently pulling his chin up to look at you. Your heart wrenched at the sight of him, eyes looking at you as though you were a treasure, as though you weren’t the thing causing him so much pain. As though you wouldn’t leave him alone after this.

Tugging lightly at the collar of his shirt, he quickly got the memo, shucking it off in a direction you didn’t see, too focused on what was just revealed to you. If not for the honeyed gold of his skin, you would have been convinced he was carved of marble. You traced the lines of his body, a tiny smile breaking through at the shudder he gave when your nails scratched over his nipples. Though your actions were slow, he did not rush you. He only watched the awe in your gaze, eyes wide as though if you blinked, he would disappear. The childlike wonder in your face warmed his heart, pleased that you would let your guard down here with him.

You blinked out of your stupor at the sensation of a warm hand on your cheek, the sight of Taehyung’s soft grin at your antics lighting a small fire of embarrassment in you. “Bed?” he asked lightly, nuzzling his face into your neck. The hot breaths near your ear sent a shiver down your spine, tugging him ever-so-closer as you nodded in response.

Pulling away from him, you tugged lightly at the drawstrings to your pants, biting your lip when you saw the Prince follow your every movement. Taking his hands into your own, you brought them to your waistband. “Help me,” you breathed, heart racing at the knowledge that you would soon be laid bare to him.

He took a deep breath before releasing the knot at your waist, tugging your pants ever so slowly down your legs. He knelt at your feet, removing the fabric from your ankles until the only cloth left on your body is your underwear. Eyes falling on your face, he thumbed the waistband, looking up at you in question. At your quiet “please,” he removed that too, your folds revealed to him, shiny with your arousal.

Groaning at the sight, Taehyung latched onto your clit before you could even process the movement, the sudden pleasure making you weak in the knees. He sucked at your bud lightly, taking pleasure in the way you sunk your hands into his hair to ground yourself. When you wobbled slightly in your bliss, his left arm rose to hold you steady at the waist.

When his other hand rose to thumb through your folds while his mouth continued its ministrations, you moaned out. Eyes falling down to observe the Prince, the sight brought a small whimper to your lips, your hips grinding down onto him. He looked absolutely sinful, his eyes heavy-lidded as he delved into your heat with such abandon, focused entirely on your pleasure. When he inserted a finger into you, quickly followed by another upon feeling your wetness, you were sure you would have fallen if not for his arm holding you steady.

“What-” you started, but ended up cutting yourself off with a loud moan at the sensation of his fingers scissoring inside you. “What happened to going to bed?” you managed to get out, utterly breathless.

You let out a gasp when he pulled from you abruptly in response, picking you up at the waist and throwing you onto his mattress. You had no time to reprimand him before he was spreading your legs, mouth and fingers returning to you as he joined you on the bed. Any words were stolen from your throat at the stretch of a third finger, your hips bucking up to get closer to the source of your pleasure.

“You taste so good,” he moaned out, panting. You didn’t miss the way he grinded his clothed crotch into the sheets, heat shooting through you at the sight. When his fingers curled inside you, the heat spread throughout your whole body, abdomen tight and walls clenching tightly around his fingers. You were so close to the edge, it would take only one breath before you fell over.

“Give it to me, please,” he pleaded, tongue flicking over your clit as his fingers continued to nudge that spongy spot inside you. Needing no more encouragement, you fell apart, moans forced from your throat, hips grinding against him as he worked you through your orgasm. When a dull ache begun to replace the pleasure, you pulled away from him, pushing him onto his back.

His arousal was clear, his cock straining in his tight pants enough that it must have hurt. Though, his face held no complaint, only dazed wonderment clear on his features, almost as if he still couldn’t believe what was happening. He let out a sharp hiss as your nails traced the outline of his cock, his teeth biting furiously at his bottom lip.

Deciding not to torture him after the ecstasy he brought you, you tugged his pants and underwear down in one go, Taehyung groaning in relief as his cock sprung free. The tip was angry and red, the slit leaking precum. After freeing him of his clothing, you reached out a hand to pump lightly at his cock, noting the way it twitched in your hold. It looked almost painful, the vein running up the underside big and angry.

You began to lower your mouth to him, eager to return the pleasure he gave you, but were halted by a gentle hand on your cheek. “Please,” he begged, “I can’t. I need you,” he expressed all in one breath, eyes pained and needy.

Taking mercy on him, you rose, shifting until you were seated in his lap, mouth seeking his out. He cried out into your mouth at the sensation of your slick folds rocking against him, grinding down onto his cock. Hand reaching down to position him at your entrance, you pulled your face away to watch his as you sunk yourself slowly onto his length. The moan you let out at the stretch was crude, and it didn’t appear that Taehyung was faring any better, his breaths coming in pants, eyes screwed shut.

He’s beautiful like this, you thought, your own eyes wanting to badly to flutter closed, but your need to take in his every expression won out. Your head tipped back in pleasure as you seated yourself fully, moans escaping as you rocked against him, his pelvis pressing into your clit.

Losing yourself in the sensation, you fell forward to bury your face into Taehyung’s neck, his scent only adding to your pleasure. His hips rocked against your own, thrusts shallow, both of you letting out low moans at the movement. The friction against your clit had your abdomen tightening again, his tender hold on your body the best thing you’d ever felt. But as the pleasure reared in on you again, it was at that moment you remembered the totality of your situation.

You would never get this again.

The thought was like ice-water thrown over your head. How could you have forgotten? His cock deep inside you, his hips rising to meet your own, his hand clutching at the small of your back, his moans – it was all temporary.

You shoved your face tightly into his shoulder, hoping your sob would disguise itself as a moan. But at the shaking of your shoulders, Taehyung paused his actions, hand rising to cradle your head. “Y/N?”

“Tae,” you cried out, heart wrenching. It wasn’t lost on him that this was the first time he’s properly heard his name from your lips since your promotion – no teasing, no games. His heart broke at the sound, your sobs guttural, and he wanted nothing more than to take the pain away. The gravity of the situation brought tears to his own eyes, unable to suppress the emotion any longer.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered, your head lifting to meet his glassy eyes. Your eyes were red-rimmed, your lips quivering. This was an agony that only the two of you could ever understand.

“Taehyung, I-” you faltered, choking on a sob. I love you. You couldn’t say it. What good could it bring you now? But your eyes spoke volumes, the emotion clear on your face. He knew how you felt just as much as you knew how he felt.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he repeated, tears finally escaping his eyes as he tugged you closer. There was no way to be more intimate than this, arms cradling each other as you cried, his cock still nestled inside you.

It would have to be enough.

As your bodies shifted minutes later, the friction against you had you shivering, remembering the position you were in. You pulled your head from his neck to gaze at his face, his eyes meeting your own. It hurt, but there was sad acceptance in your eyes, mirrored in his own. You tried to force a small smile onto your face, but you were unsure whether it appeared as a grimace. You instead elected to press a soft kiss to his lips, eyes falling closed as he returned it.

You rocked your hips together slowly, relishing in the light sighs and quiet moans of the other. Your movements were tender, careful, full of love and affection you would never get the chance to verbalize. When you felt your release creeping up on you again, you arched your back, grinding into his pelvis. Wanting to help you along, Taehyung grabbed hold of your hips, holding you steady as he thrusted up into you, every so often holding himself deep, grinding against you. The emotion of it all had your breath caught in your throat, your orgasm washing over you in gentle waves as you writhed against his body.

You could tell he was coming undone, his thrusts erratic, breaths heavy as he pulled away from you to leave open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone. You moaned at the overwhelming sensation of his movements so soon after your orgasm, but you wouldn’t dare rob him of his pleasure. Not now, not like this.

Groaning loudly, you felt his cock twitch inside you as he continued his thrusts, feeling the warmth of his release coating your walls. He shook in your arms, and you couldn’t bring yourself to confirm whether he was overwhelmed with pleasure or sorrow.

Letting out a whine as you pulled yourself off him, you wiped the mess between your  legs on his sheets. His maids would clean for him come sunrise, and you were anxious to escape the room before you lost yourself fully to despair.

You allowed yourself to bask in his presence momentarily, laying alongside him for several minutes before you rose to get dressed. You kept your back to him, unwilling to show weakness despite your vulnerability only moments ago.

“Stay,” he begged, his voice still husky from the passion you’d shared. Your heart sunk at the suggestion. You wanted nothing more than to stay, but every minute you spent here knowing the outcome only shattered you a bit more.

Fully dressed, you made your way to the door. You could still feel where his hands touched you, where his lips pressed against you, where his cock had been inside you. “I’m sorry,” you breathed, misery colouring your tone. You turned to him, taking in his bare appearance for the last time. You stared, hoping to burn the image into your retinas.

“I know,” was his only response. What more was there to say? Your eyes swept over each other, locking this moment away in your hearts forever. Finally, you turned back to the door, turning the knob and stepping out into the hallway without looking back. The sound of the hinge falling into place behind you felt like waking up from a dream, the period at the end of a sentence.

Your tears fell freely and silently as you made your way back to your chambers. Your heart ached a bit more with the increasing distance, every step leaving a piece of you behind.

It’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? You supposed whoever could claim such a thing had never loved like this. Because walking away left your heart in a million pieces, the only glue that could piece you back together still staring at his empty sheets, the dip from where your body once laid still warm to the touch.

--

Months went by without speaking of that night. The tonic you’d taken upon returning to your room had worked well, your body having bled weeks later. You had still talked to Taehyung – you had to; your duty required it. But the pain never ceased, only dulled. You told yourself you would move on, that there was no use in dwelling. But the heated glances you caught him directing at you, desire and heartbreak in his eyes, always took you right back to that night.

He hadn’t been with anyone since – not that you were listening. You couldn’t help but to overhear the palace ladies gossiping, spreading word of the Crown Prince denying their advances. You didn’t know what to do with the information.

Having just returned from mapping out Their Majesties route to a neighbouring city, you returned your horse to the stables. While not necessary, you much preferred to prepare yourself for every possibility of attack, taking note of any weaknesses in visibility along the path. Every second counts when you’re under attack, after all.

“Captain!” a voice called out to you urgently. Having just handed off your horse to the stablehand, you turned to meet the man, his hands on his knees as if he had just run a mile before coming here. “I have been looking for you everywhere, Captain. Their Majesties have requested your presence in the throne room.” Unusual, since you had met together only this morning, but you would not keep them waiting.

“Thank you, sir. I will head there now.”

--

You went directly to the throne room, pausing outside to nod to the royal family’s assistant stationed outside. He smiled to you briefly before pushing the door open.

“Captain Y/N to see you, Your Majesties.”

“Let her in, thank you,” a kind, feminine voice rang out.

You stepped inside quickly, taking a knee until the King gestured for you to stand. “I deeply apologize for my appearance, Your Majesties. I had just returned from planning our route for tomorrow and thought it better not to leave you waiting.”

The King smiled at you, the warm-hearted expression reminding you of Taehyung’s. Your chest ached at the thought, but you kept a blank expression. “Hard at work as always, I see. We had something we would like to discuss with you.” At his words, you noticed that not only were the King and Queen present, but Taehyung was stood off to the side as well. Your heartrate increased slightly at the sight of him.

“Your Highness. Forgive my disrespect, I had not seen you there,” you bowed respectfully, ignoring the heat that rushed through you at his appearance. His hair was loose, his outfit form-fitting. He was beautiful. You tried not to think too much on what he looked like beneath the clothes. “What can I do for you, Your Majesties?”

“Captain, my son came to us earlier today with quite the startling proposition,” he began, and your brows furrowed in confusion. When he failed to elaborate, you spoke up.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean, Your Majesty.”

“You see, he came to us in a frenzy and asked, ‘Father, what would you say if I wanted to marry the Captain of the Guard?’” You froze, eyes wide. Marry? You? Taehyung? Your heart pounded violently at the notion.

“Sire, I promise you this was not my idea. I apologize-”

“My dear, do not panic. We are not angry. But we wanted to ask your thoughts.”

“Your Majesties, I couldn’t possibly marry your son.” You made effort not to look at the Prince, lest your composure fail. “I have no lands to offer. No gold, nothing. I cannot offer you any alliance, I cannot bring anything to your family,” you turned to Taehyung, his expression unreadable. “You cannot marry a soldier,” you whispered, heart breaking once again as the possibility was dangled in front of you, lingering just beyond reach.

“Captain, do you know that the people adore you? That they sing your praises when we pass through their villages?” the Queen asked, a bright smile painting her features. Your face grew hot at the mention. “Your soldiers respect you. Your hometown throws festivals in honour of your birthday. Dare I say that you’re more popular than us?” she joked, giggle chiming lightly through the room. Taking in her appearance and mannerisms, it was no question why Taehyung was as handsome and as loved as he was.

“Ma’am, of course not,” you responded, hand raising to awkwardly scratch at your head. You were unsure where she was going with the statement.

“You’ve earned the Kingdom’s trust, Captain. You’re perhaps the most loyal person I’ve ever laid eyes on. Might I also add that you are not just some nobody? Your family has served ours for generations. You are of noble birth,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Do you consider yourself so unworthy?”

You paused at the question. It did not seem to be a trap, and the Queen was certainly not one to be malicious. Glancing around the room, you noted the King and Prince were observing your reaction expectantly. It was not an environment good for your nerves. “A soldier is not fit to be the future Queen,” is the statement you settled for, attempting to maintain a mask of indifference.

“My dear, do you remember what you told me only a few years ago? When I asked you if you were afraid of trying to accomplish what nobody else in history has?” the King’s deep voice rang out. Your gaze snapped up, knowing exactly what he was about to say. Oh no...

“‘Damn history. I will write my own history,’ I think it was.” Chuckles broke out across the room, the Queen tittering, Taehyung snickering. You’d never told Taehyung about that encounter, embarrassment flowing through you every time you thought about it. You focused your gaze on your feet, face burning at the reminder of your words.

“I have since learned to control my words, Sire,” you muttered ashamedly, fingers tangling together.

“Y/N,” the King’s voice called, grabbing your attention once again. “You have guts. Daring. You’re smart, well-trained. And there’s nobody I would trust to guard my life more than you.” You bit your lip at the praise, struggling to hide a proud grin. Being praised by the King was a feat not many experienced. “It would be an honour to call you our daughter.”

You stared, slack-jawed, processing his words. You didn’t notice Taehyung approaching you until his fingers laced with your own, his opposing hand moving to raise your chin. The open affection on his face, the love - it was everything you’d ever dreamed of and nothing you’d ever dared hope for. Your breathing quickened as he sank to his knees in front of you.

“Please,” he beseeched, vulnerability clear on his face. “Spend eternity with me, together. Will you marry me?”

Tears filled your eyes, but for once they were tears of joy, not tears of despair. You dropped to your knees to meet him, arms thrown around his neck. He barely had time to catch you as you threw yourself at him, bodies the closest they’ve been since that night in his bed. Raising your head to lock your eyes on his, you knew the same love you had for him was written all over your face.

“Yes,” you cried, hands raising to cup his jaw. “Yes.”

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Logical Epilogue

Epilogue to The Logical Progression

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader Rating: Mature Warnings: Cursing; sexual innuendo; Nathan being Nathan Notes: Honestly was kinda stunned that so many people asked for an epilogue 🥺 Sorry it took so long!  Just as a note, the painter mentioned in this piece is entirely fictional Summary: At first, it was exciting.

Berlin worked.

Berlin worked for a while.

You settled into your new position, your new office. Your new boss, Mark’s replacement, was out in California, and the time difference was a little bit of a bitch, but you made it work.

You made it work for a while.

You saw Nathan most weekends, at first. Most, because he got consumed with his work so often, and so did you, sometimes. Truth be told, you couldn’t always take the time out of your schedule to take the two hour flight from Berlin to Oslo, and then the hour long helicopter ride from the airport to the drop zone near the estate, and then the forty five minute hike from the drop zone to Nathan’s house.

At first, you did.

At first, it was exciting. At first you were optimistic, and in love, and brimming with hope because this was a compromise—and sure, it wasn’t something that the two of you had come up with together; it had been your idea, but he had said yes. Yes to your idea, yes to Berlin, yes to your new title – in his company. You had carved out your own place in his company, gotten to where you were by your own merits. You were happy. He was happy.

It worked at first.

After the first few months, though, the bloom was off the rose.

It started with the travel. 

Four hours was a lot one way – and that was four hours if everything was running on time and the weather permitted. It was eight hours all told, round trip. Eight hours every weekend, back and forth, was a bit much. So after a few months, every weekend became every other weekend – and it was still a lot. Of course, any time you mentioned that to Nathan, he was unapologetic at best.

“If you’d just moved in with me like I’d planned, you wouldn’t be tired.”

The first couple of times, you’d laughed. The fifteenth time, it wasn’t so funny anymore. You finally stopped mentioning it to him.

Then, it was the work.

It took you four hours to get to his house. Four. Three flying and an hour of a hike – sometimes through the snow. Silly you, you’d thought the man might stop for more than a kiss and a, “Hey, honey,” when you got there.

At first, the two of you were fucking like rabbits. And then your visits became more infrequent, and even when you were there, Nathan was sometimes too locked in to whatever it was that he was doing to give you the time of day, so much so that you felt like his damn Jackson Pollack: you were around to be looked at occasionally, contemplated, and then left to your own devices.

You’d made the mistake of mentioning that to him, too.

“I’d have more time for you if you were here, honey.”

That had started as a tease, too, but you knew Nathan. Every little joke and jab had a thin layer of saccharine shielding the spike he really wanted to stick you with.

And it stuck.

It didn’t help that your work had felt stagnant since you’d moved. Blue Book was still flourishing; your performance reviews were all positive; the Berlin office was thriving, but… But ever since you moved, you just felt so disconnected.

-- 

“You’re not coming this weekend?”

Nathan’s voice didn’t manage to lose any of its petulance despite how tinny it sounded through your headphones.

“I can’t, we’re going through tissue sessions for the pitch on Monday,” You told him.

“I haven’t seen you in, like, a month.”

“Oh, you noticed that?” There was a pause on Nathan’s end before he dryly asked, “You driving at something, sweetheart?” “Look Nate, I’ve got work to do,” You retorted, “I’ll call you later and try to make it out next weekend, alright?” Nathan let out a scoffed laugh and hung up. No ‘goodbye’, no ‘sure’, no ‘noon will be fine’. Looking back, that should’ve been a warning. With Nathan, there wouldn’t be a goodbye. There would be a drift. The time between your trips to see him became longer and longer, and your countenance in one another’s company became more and more icy, more static. The trips stopped, the calls stopped, and then a box with the things that you left at Nathan’s place showed up at your door. No note, no letter from him, nothing. His Maya console was right at the bottom. He’d finally ripped it out of the fuckin’ wall. Mommy and Daddy had broken up and you got full custody. -- 

The decision to leave Blue Book wasn’t a result of the break up. You’d had other job offers before - Nathan knew that-- No. No, you told yourself to take Nathan out of the equation as you handwrote your resignation letter. Handwrote, because you were still under NDA, and you didn’t want the drafts of this to be caught in one of the regular data audits that Blue Book did. 

You weren’t leaving to join Google, Apple, or IBM, or any of the other companies that had offered you positions with them over the years.  One of the reasons that you had moved up in Blue Book as quickly as you had was your ability to look at a product release and translate the jargon-heavy language into something the average person could understand. You’d done it for a few friends in the tech industry on the side now and again, when they were getting started with their own companies. And as much as you liked Blue Book, you liked the idea of being your own boss more. -- Your last night at Blue Book was no less than a fiasco - you’d been there a long time, so they made an effort, a fuss. They threw a party at a swanky art gallery in Berlin. People had come up to you all evening, asked you what your plans were, if you were excited, what you would miss. You’d told them - you were going to become a freelance writer, focus on technical writing. You already had a number of jobs lined up. You were incredibly excited, but a little nervous. Blue Book had been one big cyber safety net. You’d be alone.

“You hear Bateman was here?” It was a whisper behind you - from one member of the sales team to another, but loud enough for you to hear, loud enough to distract you from the conversation that you’d been in the middle of. There was no way. You hadn’t heard from the man in months - four of them, if you were going to be precise. There was no way he would turn up at your going away party - to do what? Make a fucking splash? All eyes on him? You wondered exactly how much shit you’d get for leaving your own party. You heard the ping of Blue Book’s messaging system on your phone and you pulled it out of your pocket, going cold when you saw the message. N. Bateman: Ferrar room.

No. No, you wouldn’t let him do this. This motherfucker wouldn’t get the chance to just swan back in and sweep you back off of your fucking feet after he was such a shit. -- “So you haven’t plugged Maya in yet.” “...Well between my phone, laptop and the NDA, I’ve kinda already got enough of your spyware in my apartment.”

Nathan chuckled, still wandering around the little back room of the gallery. You’d had to ask an attendant where the Ferrar room even was - but it was full of some of the most vibrant work you’d ever seen. So maybe, for that reason, you’d briefly forgiven Nathan for not even turning to look at you since you’d walked in. And yeah, it had stung, but considering everything that had happened and-- and not happened -- considering the things that the two of you had never said and the fights that you’d never had, and the compromises that he’d never made and every single compromise that you had made, it was no wonder that the man didn’t bother to turn and look at you when there was canvas after canvas after canvas of life in vivid color all around him. “Armel Ferrar,” Nathan said, “French painter, born in Peillon in 1868. Moved to Paris in 1885. Heavily influenced by Seurat and Cézanne -- more Cézanne than Seurat. You can see it in the color use, but… the way he plays with light, that’s all Seurat.” You weren’t looking at the painting that Nathan was looking at. Hell, you weren’t even looking at the paintings. You were just looking at him - at the back of his fucking head. At the back of his fucking head, and the slight tapering that you could see of his beard; at the way his shoulders sloped, and where his hands were tucked into his pockets. Your eyes drifted up his back again, over his neck, his head. The painting he was looking at, whatever painting it was, had bursts of yellow - wheat, maybe, or stars, or the sun, it was difficult for you to tell at that distance. From where you stood, it was as though the man was haloed and framed. Bright and shining and on display, this man that liked to keep to himself and spent his days underground in his office. “Stayed in Paris, too--” He was still talking, of course he was still talking, “Most of his life, or what was left of it. Never married, had one kid outta wedlock… Died in 1891, same year as Seurat. His daughter, Marie-Thérèse, married a military man that moved her to Berlin after the second World War. She brought his paintings with her, that’s how they wound up here.” 

Nathan went quiet for a few moments before, “What do you think?” “...I’m wondering why you had me come back here when you very well could’ve given that TED talk to an empty room. Or better yet to any one of the people out there that are utterly fascinated with you. Either would suit, considering how much you love your own voice.” You had already turned yourself to look at a painting, made yourself distracted by the time you answered, because you’d known that that would get a look from him. You were right, too; you saw him turn to look at you out of your periphery. “Can we skip this part?” That bored tone was back. You dug your nails into the palms of your hands, letting your eyes hone in on the vivid splashes of red on the painting in front of you - petunias. “Which part would that be?” You asked. “The part where you tell me what I did wrong and I pretend that you’re right so that I can say sorry and we can get back to what we were doing.”

You laughed. You actually laughed. Not a fake one, not a haughty one, but a real peal of laughter left you in shock. “Wow,” You sighed once it had passed, “I forgot what a dick you are, you know that? I actually kinda managed to forget.” “Look--” “No,” You turned to face him, holding a hand up to stop whatever he was about to say, “If you came to fake some sincere bullshit, or to tell me that everything would’ve worked if we had done things your way--” “They would’ve--” “Shut the fuck up, Bateman,” You snapped, “You don’t know that, alright? You don’t. I don’t care if you have it in your head that it would’ve all been perfect because you said so.” 

“You really think my way would’ve been worse?” “Well, we’ll never know,” You shrugged, folding your arms over your chest. Nathan was quiet for a single, blessed moment. Then-- “Why are you leaving Blue Book?” “I don’t wanna sound egotistical here, but I kinda refuse to believe that you didn’t read my resignation letter.” “I did.” “Then you know the answer.” “Were those the only reasons?” You looked over his face for a few moments. “... It wasn’t you,” You shook your head, “I don’t know if you wanted it to be, or didn’t, but it wasn’t you.” “Why the fuck would I want it to be?” “Because you think the universe revolves around your beard.” 

He seemed to fight a smile for a moment, and your stomach twisted. You’d seen that look - the way he had to work to pull down the corners of his mouth - in the first video he’d ever sent you, yelling at Maya to remove you as an admin. Maya, which was still sitting in a box in your apartment, because you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of the damn console. You didn’t want to plug it in, but you couldn’t just fucking throw it out. “...So, this new job,” He approached you slowly, and you were careful to hold your ground - not just because backing or turning away felt like weakness, but because stepping backward would mean knocking into the work of a French artist whose life sounded pretty fucking tragic. “Yes?” “You staying in Berlin?” You were quiet for a few moments before you shook your head. “I don’t know. I can do it from anywhere, so I haven’t really decided what my next move is going to be.” “Anywhere?” Nathan repeated. “Whatever you’re thinking, un-think it.” “Can’t unscramble an egg, honey.” “Don’t.” “Don’t what?” “Bateman, I’m serious. You think I’m just gonna crawl back to you?” “Who the fuck is doing the crawling? I’m here!” He snapped. “Oh, look. Nathan did one thing,” You cooed mockingly, “Nathan put on something other than sweatpants and left his estate--” “It’s a four hour trip--” “Oh, you cannot fucking tell me about the travel, Bateman, don’t you dare. I did that for months and you acted like it was nothing, you acted like I was nothing!” 

And then Nathan stopped. Nathan stopped and lowered his chin to his chest for a moment. “You’re not,” He spoke softly - so softly you almost didn’t hear, “You’re not-- You know that. That's your insecurities talking--” “Knowing and feeling are two different things. I’m not a console, I don’t run an OS, I can’t just go in and fix the buggy code that tells me differently,” You had to work to keep your voice steady and get the words out, “What you just did once to get here? I did that for months, Bateman. And that’s after I pulled my whole life up and moved to a new country. That trip, two days a week, every week, and half the time I was there, you acted like I wasn’t. I may as well have not been, so I stopped going.”  “You could’ve talked to me.” “...You know what, I’m not even going near that one, because I really don’t want to yell in here,” You managed through gritted teeth, eyes diverted to another painting. Nathan lifted his head then, looking you over before he stepped forward, muttering, “Stop that.” “What?” “That.” He reached out, taking hold of your hands from where they were crossed under your arms. He ‘tsk’ed softly as he uncrossed your arms and unfolded your hands, running his thumbs over the small half-moon dents that your nails had left in your palms. “... Alright, maybe gatecrashing wasn’t my best idea,” He glanced toward the door to the room before his eyes scanned your face. “I don’t think it even breaks your top five.” “Would you care to list that top five now?” “I would not, at the risk of puffing up your beard.” You heard him chuckle, felt his thumbs continue to smooth over your palms. “...You remember that first Rise of AI, when I told you why I’d pulled you up on stage to give that presentation?” He asked. You frowned, turning to look at him again. He was watching you closely over the top of his glasses, eyes knowing and dark. “You wanted to see what I'd do if you threw me in the deep end.” He nodded. “That was Blue Book, something we both knew. This…” He wrapped his hands around your, gave them a gentle squeeze, “This is new for the both of us. We jumped into the deep end and uh…Starting in the kiddy pool might’ve been better.”  “Did Nathan Bateman just admit defeat?” “No. No,” His gaze went stern, then, “Because kiddy pool or not, you’re still in the fuckin’ water.” You looked down at where his hands were holding yours still. “I want to try again,” Nathan crowded closer to you, “And I know-- I know that I am an asshole and that I fucked up, and you know what, I’m probably going to fuck up again,” He raised one hand to cup your chin, raising your head to meet his eyes, “But I wanna give it another shot. I just… I just need to know if that’s even an option here.” When the box of your things had arrived at your place, you’d told yourself that it wasn’t. You’d told yourself that Nathan was an asshole, and a shitstain, and a dickwad, and a douchecanoe, and a host of other derogatory names that you’d dreamt up in your most frustrated moments. Because, yeah, he could be those things. But that didn’t change the fact that you still had feelings for him. It didn’t change the fact that you’d made mistakes in that relationship, too. “So?” He prompted you as you looked at one another, “How do you think we’d do in the kiddy pool?” You gave him a small smile and murmured, “Swimmingly.” The force of Nathan’s kiss nearly knocked you off of your feet - your head would’ve hit a Ferrar if his hand hadn’t come up to cup the back and cushion it. (The gallery owner saw the two of you and was horrified.) (But Nathan bought that painting and like five others, so they got over it.)

Tag list: @spider-starry​ ; @mylittlelonelyappreciation​ ; @grogu-pascal​ ; @blueeyesatnight​ ; @kid-from-new-zealand​ ; @revolution-starter​ ; @kindablackenedsuperhero

[hes-writer]

To You (4)

Summary: harry dates y/n to get closer to her best friend

Warnings: mild angst (what else lol), not a lot of dialogue for this one, and a bit of fluff

Word Count: 2775 words

A/N: I've had the worst writer's block for this series but then inspiration struck me at 2 am and I had the chance to write a lil sumthin sumthin for the next part :D

Read the full series in my masterlist (bio)

As I mentioned before, this story kind of goes backwards.

____

As self-deprecating as it is, Y/N couldn’t help but feel her guard lower with each fleeting glance at her phone. She didn’t mean to, really. It wasn’t as if she was bored out of her mind because she was the opposite of that. 

Going on her phone and tapping on Instagram was more of a distraction from studying if anything. She was hounded by piles of homework and pages of readings to do by the end of next week. It seemed that her brain was working in constant overdrive to try to remember the endless concepts and theories that were catapulted at her with no signs of stopping. Her eyes were straining from the constant stimulation from her laptop screen, and from trying to read the small letters plastered on the computer. 

Y/N was studying on her designated studying days, as usual. She was quite proud of sticking to the schedule, except for the few weeks that she opted to coddle herself in the confines of her warm blanket because that was around the time that she found out her boyfriend, Harry, was only using her to get close to her best friend, Louise. 

——

In retrospect, Y/N should have seen all the signs blaring right in front of her face all along. She gave herself facepalms more than she could count by the way she was—quite literally—blinded by love to realize that Harry’s feelings were nothing but a façade. That Y/N was nothing but a pawn in his game; a character to manipulate, disposable in order for him to get the woman he actually wanted. And Y/N had no doubts that her ex-boyfriend was treating Louise like a queen. 

Y/N wore red-tinted glasses while she was with Harry and she didn’t see the red flags rising every time he shaped their evening around Louise’s schedule. She thought that Harry was making such a good effort in getting to know the people close to Y/N’s life that he insisted on having Louise around whenever they hung out with her friends. 

Harry asked endless questions about Louise; from where she worked to what she was interested in—to which Y/N had foolishly answered, believing that she had found the perfect man to share her life with. But she should have known when he didn’t do the same for her other friends. Hell, he didn’t even do the same to her!

___

When Harry and Y/N were just friends, he didn’t bother getting to know her as thoroughly and comprehensively as he did with Louise. In fact, it could be argued that Harry hated Y/N when they were first introduced by—and this was ironic—Louise! 

Louise spoked highly and excitedly of ‘my friend, Y/N’ and with Harry being the loved-up simp that he was—wanted to please Louise by appearing interested in her friend. He guessed that he was probably too good of an actor (not to toot his own horn) because that meet up turned into a set-up. 

Louise had planned a date for her friends, Y/N was indifferent to it; she was even a little excited because she thought that Harry was sort of nice. Despite the fact that he was indirectly rude to her in their first meeting, Y/N didn’t hold grudges on people for their first impressions. She believed that anybody could have a bad day and that might just be the time when Harry was dragged by the arm to be introduced to her. 

Y/N understood if that was the case. She was not too keen on acting nice and friendly after a stressful day at work, or a hard study session at the library. So even if Harry was practically snarling at every word she said from his seat around the rounded booth table of the bar—she agreed to go on a first date with him. 

——

Harry was in shambles.

He got himself into quite an intricate mess trying to attain the woman of his dreams. He was such a pleaser that he was now contemplating inside his car, outside of Y/N’s address. Was this all worth it? Of course, it was. As much as Harry would like to say that this was part of his plan to make Louise his girlfriend, it really wasn’t. 

But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t use it to his advantage. 

It was a good thing that he was early—about twenty minutes or so. That was only because he was huffing the whole time Harry was buttoning the clutches of his dress shirt, shaking his head at the bathroom mirror and reprimanding himself for letting his lovesickness to get him deeper than he would like. But hey, the sooner Harry got to Y/N’s place, the sooner this ‘date’ would be over. 

So here he was, hidden in the shadows of the night sky and shielded by the heavy tint of his Range Rover. Palms were pressed on the lush leather steering wheel as Harry formulated how he could turn this around in his favour. He was already in Louise’s good books for even agreeing to this in the first place—why not make Y/N his own personal wingman?

Granted, that she didn’t actually know Harry well enough but maybe this date could reach Louise’s ears about how much of a romantic, perfect, and chivalrous gentleman Harry could be. That would surely make Louise like him, right?

Wrong. Absolutely wrong.

It was safe to say that Harry was feeling guilty the moment he decided to use Y/N in order to get to her best friend, but that ship sailed long ago when anger and frustration took over. Why in the hell was he so perfect to Y/N’s eyes that she had gushed about him to her best friend minutes after he had dropped her off?

Why did Harry have to knock on her door with a single-stemmed rose clutched in his fingers, doing a little bow to add humour when she opened the door? And what in God’s name possessed him to say that she looked beautiful that night in her pretty, deep green dress that he thought was absolutely gorgeous on her—but his heart was with another woman—fully knowing that it would look better on Louise?

“Why. . . just why,” Harry asked himself as he sat at a table with Y/N, Louise and her boyfriend, Dylan. 

That was what being romantic got him. That was where declaring Y/N as his unofficial wingman ended him upon. A double date with the woman he wanted with Y/N looking at him as if they’ve been together for years, when in fact, they had only known each other for a few weeks. 

Harry’s pride was too big to admit that this time; he couldn’t get the girl. And so, his bruised ego declared that this date was just another unplanned situation that would benefit him—somehow, someway—in the future. 

Wrong again. 

Because a month later,  Y/N was running off to her lecture with a bag strapped over her shoulder, leaving Harry a passionate kiss on the lips. He was quite ashamed to say that he enjoyed the affection, but not enough to ignore the throbbing of his heart

Harry wasn’t all in with his relationship with Y/N and he knew exactly why. For months, he had been pining for Louise and well, he ended up with her best friend, Y/N. Now that was just super unlucky for him. And he wasn’t usually a mean person, but Harry was very annoyed with fate (or destiny) for leaving with an ultimatum. 

First, leaving Y/N risking her tattling to Louise about him breaking her heart was a no-no. Second, staying with Y/N until she realizes that both of them were no good together. The latter was a much more pleasant choice, except the fact that it could take months for Y/N to acknowledge that she and Harry were both too different for each other. 

—— 

It was another four months later when Harry drew upon an epiphany very similar yet completely different from the ultimatum he had presided. 

Y/N was sure of her feelings more than ever, even dropping the ‘L’ word during a drunken stupor of wine and bubbly champagne. Harry was sure that she hadn’t remembered her confession the next morning because she never brought it up. However, those words that escaped her lips were enough for Harry to overthink each night one or the other slept over. 

Sometimes Y/N’s snores would serve as background noise to his serene imagination, wondering why the images of Louise and him doing couple-y stuff were now replaced with Y/N’s figure instead. 

He also pondered if his memory was so impeccable that he could hear Y/N’s laugh fluttering in his ears while she was sound asleep beside him or was it just because she released a chuckle every time he made a horrible joke?

(It was true. Y/N never left Harry hanging in the air with a questionable punchline of a head-scratching joke. Both of them knew that her giggles were pity laughs. Harry was thankful for it and Y/N just couldn’t resist painting a genuine smile on Harry’s face, looking so proud that he had made her laugh.) 

Harry was certain that his feelings for Y/N wouldn’t quite reach the threshold that he held her for now. But it seemed that he was getting a lot of his sworn predictions wrong lately. Sure, their first encounter (and the second, and the third. . .) were purely for satisfaction’s sake. A mere plot for Harry to build his boyfriend resumé for Louise. 

Harry wasn’t sure when his feelings shifted from civil and friendly to an ever-evoking, lovesick puppy. 

Maybe it was the way Y/N walked, straight into his heart and stole it, keeping it safe in her tender hands when she pressed a lingering kiss on his lip while she ran off to catch the bus. The way Harry would pout when Y/N forgot the routine she had set, resulting in him whining her name and sometimes chasing after her to get his much-needed kiss. He even started calling it his ‘good-luck charm’ because it seemed like without it; Harry came home more drained and tired than usual because nothing went right that day. 

Or maybe it was the way she giggled while reading something on her phone, laptop, or a book—even if it was for school purposes. How absolutely pleased he was to hear her melody of giggles, straining his ear to listen more closely and wanting to do nothing more than to hear it again because it was music to Harry. It usually ends with Y/N’s heaving breaths, begging him to stop tickling her. 

Was it because she was the most adorable little thing while she was asleep? No, it couldn’t be, Harry thought, even though the admiration in his eyes cannot be described as anything other than glazed over with love and affection with the way he stared at Y/N’s sleeping face. 

But why can’t he stop thinking about her when she wasn’t around? Harry felt like he was missing a part of himself as soon as he shut the door to his house because Y/N had to go to her own place. 

Why did a smile splinter his lips visualizing Y/N studying at her kitchen table with a topknot wobbling on her head and a pair of her thick-rimmed glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose? Harry still remembers the first time she asked him to redo the bun on her head, complaining that it was loosening and that she couldn’t focus when strands were haywire. 

Harry made sure to be extra careful as to not accidentally pull on her scalp, stretching the hairband around his fingers. 

Now, he only had a minute experience in hair styling, reminiscing to his long-haired days were he slipped his hair into a neat ball in a few seconds or less. But this was Y/N, his girlfriend, who had an adorable pout on her face. The finch between her brows deepening when she tried to understand the concepts written on the screen yet she would giggle when Harry would ask her, ‘Am I hurting you?’ and shake her head ‘no’. 

——-

So it was a bit questionable when Harry jumped at the chance to kiss Louise when the time came. 

She had just broken up with her boyfriend and called Y/N for comfort. However, Y/N was about to leave for an exam worth half of her grade and she couldn’t just not attend it. She may love her best friend with all of her heart, but not enough to waste thousands of dollars to redo a course because she missed the final exam. 

Hence, why Harry was sent in place of Y/N instead. And that was also how his plump lips managed to lock itself with Louise’s’ glossy ones. He should’ve felt guilt stab him right away when he tasted wet, salty tears on his tongue when he battled for dominance with Louise. 

Harry should have pulled away when his phone buzzed in his pocket; a message from girlfriend that she had just finished her exam and was ready to be picked up now so that she could give love and comfort to her best friend. 

Harry’s subconscious must have reminded him that this was the woman whom he had spent months pining on; desperately trying to make her his yet failing. And now that he had the chance to, he couldn’t stop. 

Instead of doing everything his conscience had practically yelled at him to do, Harry’s brain had buffered—his body numbed every nerve except the ones controlling his mouth because their persisting kiss was captured by a photographer hidden amongst barricades that Harry had failed to take notice of. 

Harry was sure that his presence was hidden to the best of his abilities, but he guessed that Louise’s hands had pulled his hoodie off in the midst of their make-out session, revealing his side profile and the unruly curls on his head. 

And that was how Y/N identified the image on her phone the time she felt her heart being ripped out and crushed into pieces. That, and the fact that Harry wore the same clothes she had seen him in before she left. 

____ 

And now, as Y/N paused her thumb from scrolling away from the image on her screen, the same pain and heartbreak still throbbed in her chest. 

She couldn’t seem to forget, as a lot of people say, what Harry did to her. Despite the fact that he was spotted outside her door, leaving boxed gifts of chocolate and flower bouquets a few minutes ago—Y/N simply didn’t have the capacity to sweep everything under the rug. 

The wound was still fresh—feeling air was enough to have her hissing, aiming to cover the cut in fear that it would become too painful to even ignore. For weeks, Y/N had to wallow in agonizing self-pity to remind herself that Harry didn’t deserve her or her love for him and now she was somehow ready to run back into his arms? 

She absolutely despised the way her hands twitched to send him a text. To leave him a voicemail or to simply tap his contact just to hear him speak to her again. Y/N was ashamed to admit that he thought about knocking on his front door just for another chance at seeing him again. An opportunity to ask him if he was happier with her (ex) best-friend—if Harry loved Louise more than he did with her. Or—and most of all—if Harry ever did love Y/N during their short relationship. Was everything just a game to him? 

She was doing good so far; she was strong enough to withhold from the urges of communicating with an ex. However, Y/N knew it was only a matter of time before Harry took extreme measures to speak to her, unlocking her door with the spare key she had given him. One day she would be met with his figure in the hallway with a sad smile on his face and three long-stemmed sunflowers in his hand and Y/N wouldn’t be able to resist him. 

Y/N hated herself for being so weak whenever Harry was involved. He was her Kryptonite; getting too close to him was what ripped her to shreds. 

___

Let me know what you thought!

____

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[alccaddsccup]

either you want it part 2

this is a continuation of part one from my fic Either you want it

warnings: SMUT and fluff

i’m sorry it took so long 😭😭 (it’s technically not been a month yet tho) i had a whole bunch of shit going on and it took up a lot of my time, it also didn’t help that my laptop broke. Anyway, enjoy!

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Ina gazes down at the woman before her, gently stroking her hair as she works her mouth delicately against her chest. After enjoying the pleasurable sensation for a few moments longer, Ina tilts Bea’s chin with her finger so the pair gaze into each other’s eyes

“I think you should work that mouth somewhere else”

Bea’s face heats up as she goes to duck her head to where Ina wants her

“Ah, not here” Ina gracefully gets up from the floor and makes her way to the bedroom, swaying her bare hips seductively. She waits a few moments to allow Bea to thoroughly enjoy the view of her backside before casting a sultry glance over her shoulder at Bea and disappearing round the door 

Bea practically races after Ina, legs still trembling from her expert movements earlier. When she enters the room, she sees Ina perched on the edge of the bed with a pair of handcuffs in her hands. She holds the cuffs out to Bea with a suggestive look in her eye

“Take the lead my love”

Bea takes the cuffs with shaky hands and pushes Ina back on the bed before fastening her hands to the headboard. Ina playfully tugs at the restraints

“Perfect” this elicits a giggle from Bea but the sound is quickly replaced by a moan as Ina pushes her knee into Bea’s centre

“Someone’s still sensitive” in retaliation, Bea runs her fingers just barely along Ina’s wetness and is slightly disappointed to hear Ina’s silence

“You won’t get a sound out of me”

“Is that a challenge?” Bea quirks her eyebrow as she says this and Ina shrugs as best as she can whilst still fastened to the headboard

Bea presses her thumb firmly onto Ina’s clit and the woman lets out a sharp breath but does not make a sound. Bea begins to move her thumb in slow circles as she traces a delicate line of kisses along Ina’s toned stomach. She pulls her mouth away when she reaches Ina’s navel to place kisses along her inner thighs, randomly nipping at the sensitive skin which makes Ina squirm

“Hmm, still no sounds”

“Maybe you need to try-“ Ina’s sentence is cut off and replaced by a moan as Bea pushes her tongue deep inside. Bea grins triumphantly and pushes her tongue in again whilst grabbing Ina’s thighs in a white knuckled grip. She hears the rattle of the cuffs against the headboard as Ina desperately tries to grab Bea’s hair, but the restraints do not give

Bea works her tongue against Ina expertly, alternating between deep thrusts and gentle licks. At the same time, she moves a hand to circle Ina’s clit once again. It isn’t long before Ina’s thighs squeeze tight against Bea’s head and her moans get louder before reaching her climax. She places a final, delicate kiss on Ina’s centre and then moves up the woman’s body to remove the restraints; she kisses just below Ina’s ear as she does so

With lightning quick movements, Ina pushes two fingers deep inside Bea which makes Bea’s eyes roll back as she moans sharply. She grabs onto Ina’s wrist as she thrusts in and out of her

“You’ve been such a good girl for me” Ina kisses her cheek and rests her forehead against Bea’s. After a few moments, Ina feels a timid hand reach between her own legs and she widens them to allow Bea access. The pair slowly lose themselves in the feel of one another, faces so close together that they breathe each other’s air. The touches exchanged between them are gentle and full of love, a complete contrast from earlier events

It doesn’t take long for them to get close to release and Ina kisses the corner of Bea’s mouth as she lets herself tumble over the edge. The couple gasp for breath as they come down from the high. After a few moments, Bea breaks the silence

“I made you moan” Bea says triumphantly as Ina lays her head on the pillow. She smiles at the look on Bea’s face whilst stroking her lover’s cheek slowly

“That you did. Now come and lie down with me” Bea quickly snuggles up to Ina, their noses almost touch as they spend a while just gazing at each other and drinking in every detail of the other’s face

“You’re so beautiful” Bea blushes at the compliment, unsure of what she did to earn such kind words

“So are you” she kisses the tip of Ina’s nose and then pulls the duvet over them both

“Was your birthday everything you’d thought it’d be?” Ina smiles and her cheeks darken slightly

“Definitely not what I thought, but I was hoping for an evening just like this”

“Then I’m glad to be the one to fulfil your fantasy” Ina chuckles at Bea before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and trailing her fingers gently across her cheek

“What about you? Did you enjoy yourself?” She kisses Ina sweetly before replying

“I more than enjoyed myself”

“That’s just what I like to hear” the end of Ina’s sentence is muffled as she lets out a yawn. The cuteness overload is almost too much for Bea

“I suppose we should sleep. After all, you’re very old now” Ina widens her eyes in shock before the pair quickly dissolve into giggles

“You’re right. About the sleep part, I’m not old” Bea kisses Ina’s forehead

“Of course not, you’re a vision of youth”

Bea turns out the light on the nightstand and returns to her previous position, snuggled up close to Ina

“I love you” Bea whispers into the darkness

“What was that?” Ina whispers back, having not quite heard Bea’s declaration

“Oh, nothing. Go to sleep now” Ina reaches for Bea’s hand in the darkness and holds it, warmth spreading through her chest; she feels almost overwhelmed by the adoration she has for Bea and can only hope that the younger woman returns the intensity of her feelings. Little does she know that those feelings are returned with just as much enthusiasm 

[spencesglasses]

sweet creature (spencer reid x f! reader) pt 3

a/n: no spence in this part, sorry to disappoint you simps. but uhh, y/n and jj rights! but as besties <3

tw! there are mentions of sexual assault and a minor character death! please be aware before reading!!

part one | part four

“St. Augustine, Florida,” Penelope starts, showcasing the most recent case. “Two bodies were found early this evening in a remote wooded area just west of the city. Neither have been identified yet.”

“This woman’s complexion…” Tara said, looking at the pictures of a woman with various injuries on her face.

Y/N looked at the board beside Penelope. “… she was exsanguinated.” she hissed.

“Correct, my dearest, which is a really fun word to say, but I didn’t know its terrible meaning until I started working here.”

“Odd that the only female had her blood removed,” Rossi said across the round table.

“Well, the male victim might have been collateral damage or a witness that needed to be silenced.” JJ added.

“I mean, it is the kind of message that would be sent to each other. The Curiel Syndicate recently set up shop in Florida,”

“Except it looks like these two were meant without anyone the wiser. How is that a message?” Asked Rossi.

“Well, cartels have also been known to use murder as a form of voodoo.” Derek pointed out. “In 1989, a University of Texas student was murdered by a satanic gang while on spring break.”

Y/N leaned further into the table, reviewing the photos they were given. “My guess is that this has nothing to do with drugs. Maybe someone with a blood fetish-”

“Vampirism?” JJ asked.

Y/N hums in response, glancing at her for a brief moment.

“It’s late and we need to hit the ground running. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch said as he closed the file he held, gathering any necessary belongings for the case.

Without another word, the team mirrored his actions and followed him out. This was one of the first few cases she has worked on with the team without Spencer. She didn’t mind it, of course. The team welcomed her with open arms and treated her as if she had always been there, which she appreciated. She had gotten used to everything that came with the job, and grew closer to the team, but she wouldn’t be lying if she said that some things she sees still make her skin crawl.

-

Y/N looked out the window of the jet, admiring the contrast of the dark, star filled sky beneath the white clouds. She was seated with JJ, Hotch, and Morgan at the small table, the rest of the team claiming their spot to the seats to their right.

“The coroner attributed the lacerations on the bodies to animal bites.” Morgan said. “Apparently there are a lot of raccoons in that area.”

Y/N felt JJ nudge her slightly and brought her attention back to the file on her lap, flipping through the photos. “The media’s going on about satanic mutilation.”  

“It’s happened before. The West Memphis three case showed how animal activity on a corpse can be mistaken for a ritualized torture.” Hotch noted.

“After the first bite, the insect infestation expands and distorts the open wounds,” Said Rossi.

Y/N heard Garcia groan over the laptop speaker, seeing her face scrunch up in disgust on the screen. “Ok, here’s my finger, here’s the mute button. Are you guys done talking about the critter damage?”

JJ and Y/N shared a look, and she smiled. “You can put your finger down, Pen, we’re done,”

“Thank you, and Y/N’s right; local news and radio outlets are going wild with this being a blood-worshipping cult murder.” she continues typing. “Hey, new information. Both of those bodies have just been identified, Cheyenne Pravato, 23 and George Henning, 71.”

The team leaned forward to inspect the photos of the recent victims popping up on the screen.

“Any connection?” asked Hotch.

“My level-one search says no, my level 2 through 20 await. Cheyenne was a waitress that is currently unemployed. Henning was a retired steelworker from Pennsylvania, lived in Florida a few years. They both went missing 3 days ago.”

“3 days?” Tara questioned. “Coroner estimated the time of death as less than 24 hours from the time of discovery?”

“Preliminary indicators show no sign of torture or sexual assault,” JJ said.  

Y/N’s eyebrows knit together in thought, trying to piece together the information. “What was he doing with them?”

The team brought their attention to Hotch, and he said, “Dave, you find out what you can about Cheyenne from friends and family. Morgan, you do the same thing for Henning. JJ, I need you to rein in the media. And, Lewis, Y/L, you two go to the M.E.. Hysteria’s growing and we need to contain it.”

-

“Still waiting on the full tox screen for the male victim,” said the medical examiner.

“We think they may have been held for up to two days.” Tara said. “Were they fed?”

“Stomach contents were empty, but nutrition and hydration levels were normal. My guess is they were both fed through an I.V.” he said, lifting the fabric that covered the body. “I did find one curiosity,”

He uncovered the victim's calf, showing a mark on the skin with red rings around it. Y/N furrowed her brows, her eyes scanning the injured spot. “It looks like an animal bite?”

“Not under magnification. It’s actually a surgically precise triangle,”

She saw Tara’s face harden in the corner of her eye; she turned to her and they shared a questioning look. They heard the telephone ring from across the room, and the medical examiner was quick to answer it. Tara lifted the fabric once more, bending down to look closer at the injury.

“You’re positive of that?” Y/N heard him ask over the phone. The medical examiner hung up the phone, turning on his heel to face the two women. “The tox screen and DNA tests on George Henning just came back. You ready for this? Most of the blood in his body isn’t his…”

Y/N tilted her head. “Then whose…”

“It’s Cheyenne’s…”

Her whole body tensed at his words, and Tara’s jaw dropped in shock.

-

Y/N tapped her pencil against the table as she read over the tox screening. “The blood drained from Cheyenne was put into George Henning?” Morgan questioned, gesturing to the document in her hand.

She slid the paper across the table for him to read. “It is strange, a triangle was cut into his calf muscle too,”

“And there’s still something in the toxicology screen that the M.E. can’t identify.” Hotch said.

“Yeah, we’re hoping to find something more in the next few hours,”

Morgan slid back the report to her. She heard footsteps coming closer to the room they occupied and turned to see JJ walking in.  She greeted her with a small wave and smile, to which she returned. JJ leaned against Y/N’s chair, resting her hand on the back of it. “So, it took a little arm-wrestling,” she starts. “But the media finally saw the wisdom in toning down the whole demon worship angle,”

“Don’t take a victory lap just yet,” Rossi said, Y/N handing her the tox report.

“You’re kidding,” JJ huffed.

Tara picked up the photos from the M.E., flipping them over for JJ to see. “Y/L and I are just trying to work out this whole calf muscle business,”

“Triangles are big in illuminati symbolism.” Rossi recounted.

Morgan let out a sharp exhale. “This is just bending back toward cult behavior.”

“What did you find out about George Henning?” Hotch asked him.

“According to the neighbors, the guy was a shut-in. No friends, a lot of health problems — hypertension, parkinson’s,”

“Cheyenne was the opposite,” Rossi interjected. “Vegan, into new age lifestyles. Never met a harmonic convergence she didn't want to converge on.”

“Well, I mean, I get it with him; he was a recluse, but how did nobody notice her missing for 3 days?”

“Her friends said that Cheyenne was flighty. It was not unusual for her to take off without notice for a week or two.”

“Transfusions and sustained I.V. feeding takes skill, planning and access to materials, and as crude as it was, the replacing of old blood with new is dialysis.” Hotch said.  “ What if the triangle isn’t a symbol, but a tissue sample? Could this be medical experimentation?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve got a youthful, healthy host in Cheyenne and a sick test subject in Henning,”

“If the new missing girl’s his next victim, the unsub could be getting ready to try again,” JJ said, clutching the back of Y/N’s chair.

Y/N gave her a look of confusion. “New missing girl?”

“A missing persons report came in earlier today, Andrea Gambrell,” JJ explained. “Her car was found abandoned at a cemetery near Jacksonville. Cheyenne and Andrea waitressed at the same restaurant.”

“If Andrea mirrors Cheyenne, then who mirrors George?” Y/N asked.

“I guess that’s what we have to figure out.”

-

Y/N stood with JJ and Hotch looking over photos they’ve gathered throughout the case, trying to come up with a conclusion. She tapped her foot anxiously against the tile beneath her feet, her brows furrowing as she looked closely at the photos. The sound of Hotch’s phone ringing startled her, making her jump. She let out a deep breath and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. JJ took notice of a very flustered looking Y/N and placed a hand on her shoulder gently. “You okay there?”

She gave her a half-hearted smile, moving past her to stand next to Hotch. “‘m fine.”

“What do you have, Garcia?” he asked.

He asked her to search for doctors or any medical professionals in the area, anyone that could pop up as a red flag, and of course, Garcia was quick to find just what they needed. “Nothing on my crimson flag doctor search, but I did learn about something with a super cool name,” she said through the speaker. “The mad scientist club,”

JJ took a step, now standing beside Y/N. “And what is that?’ she asked.

“They’re a student group from the Florida College of Medicine in Jacksonville. Before the disbanded, they used to get together and talk about experimental ways to cure disease.”

“Do you have any names of the people in the club?” Y/N questioned.

“Uh, kinda, sorta, not really. They were totally informal. Here’s the part that made me sit up straight. They used to meet at a local cemetery,”

JJ scoffed. “Let me guess, the same cemetery where Andrea Gambrell disappeared.”

“Yeah! The very one!”

“Alright,” Hotch started. “Keep working on the names and see if you can find out what the club disbanded.”

“Okay,” Garcia said before hanging up.

Before the three of them could say another word, Y/N's own phone started ringing. She reached into her back pocket and held the phone up to her ear. “Agent Y/L,”

“Yes, agent, I’ve got the full tox screen of George Henning,” he said, Y/N bringing her phone from her ear so she could put it on speaker. “There were massive levels of massive levodopa in his system.”

“The parkinson's drug?”

“Correct,”

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek. “But the blood was replaced with Cheyenne’s. Does that mean the levodopa was introduced into his system after the transfusion?”

“Yes, ma’am. We got the results of the other DNA samples and the surprises keep coming. Found traces of mesoglea and testudinata keratin,”

“That is…” she urges him to continue.

“Jellyfish and turtle. George Henning had animal DNA in his system.” He said.

Y/N scrunched her nose, looking up to see JJ with her mouth slightly agape and Hotch with a deep frown. Y/N quickly says ‘thank you’ before hanging up. But before she could turn her phone off, a quiet ding! went off notifying her about a new message.

“Guys,” she alerted. “Another body was found.”

“You two check that out, see what you can find. I’ll brief the team on the tox screening.”

-

Y/N and JJ walked in silence, their shoulders bumping as they made their way to the site where the latest victim was found.  “Okay so, a homeless man found him,” Y/N breaks the silence, lifting the police tape for her and JJ to go under. The officer close by handed them both gloves to search the area and a bag of belongings found on the victim. “We I.D.’d him as Harold McDermott, longtime local resident.”

“He didn’t even bother hiding the body this time.” JJ said. “The unsub might be unraveling,”

“He must’ve been the new George Henning.” Y/N muttered, crouching down and her eyes scanning the injuries the man ensued. “I don’t even want to think about what might be swimming around in his bloodstream.”

JJ crouched down to her level. “No obvious tissue removal, bruising on his face and chest.” she looked at Y/N, then to the bag in her hand. “What’s in there?”

Y/N eyebrows rose, following JJ’s gaze to the items in the clear bag. She stood up, opened the bag and it was a wallet. With a medical card. Ah, of course we’d find something like this in here, she thought. “It’s a medical I.D. card” she said, pulling it out for JJ to see. “Our victim suffered from epilepsy and cortico-basal degeneration…”

They tore their eyes away from the card, glancing up to each other. “We better deliver the profile.”

-

It’s been a few hours since they’ve delivered the profile to local authorities, and since then, they’ve gotten more information to help them solve the case. The M.E. had found more animal DNA in George Hennings body: sea urchin and some other type of tropical parrot neither of them could identify.

Penelope was able to locate one of the former members of the Mad Scientist Club, Diane Haller, and she was able to go in to talk to Tara; finding out that there was a man that could be a potential lead. Robert, or Richard, Diane couldn’t remember his name, but the club called him the magic man. He only went to the gathering a few times, according to Diane, and while he was there he would go on about how they were in a ‘magical place’. He attended the Florida College of Medicine in Jacksonville while the club was still active, his interest being in neuroscience.

A local doctor went missing, Laura Braga. She was a neurologist, which they believed was a connection to the unsub. Dr. Braga was heading back to her office to get files she’d forgotten when she discovered that the unsub broke into her office trying to get extra levodopa.  

“Garcia compiled a list of every medical student in the North Florida area with the first name of Richard or Robert, and I got to tell you guys, it’s a long list.” Tara said as she stood to the side of a board filled with photo evidence and a map of the area.

“So which one is our magic man?” JJ asked.

Y/N sat in the chair next to her, facing the board. She spun her chair around to face the other way and noticed a peculiar look on Rossi’s face. “What is it, Rossi?”

“They identified the bird DNA in Henning as coming from a scarlet macaw,”

“Mmhm. And?”

“That got me thinking about Turritopsis Dohrni,”

“Turri… what?’ Tara questioned him.

“It’s called the immortal jellyfish,” he explains. “Endlessly recycles its own cells through a process called transdifferentiation, a kind of lineage reprogramming.”

“Oh, my goodness. Dr. Spencer Reid, master of disguise.” JJ joked.

Y/N quirked an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth rising slightly. “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve assumed that you were the resident genius, Rossi,”

He let out a soft chuckle. “No disguise. I called the kid last night.”

“Ahh,” Y/N and JJ said in unison.

“But think about it, jellyfish, turtle, sea urchin, and now a scarlet macaw. What do they all have in common?”

“A long lifespan.” Tara answered.

“Exactly, longer than a human’s.”

“So that means the unsub may not be focused on a specific disease but longevity,” Said JJ.

“Oh, God. Guys,” Tara gasped. “I think I know why the magic man thought this place was so magical,” She uses the file in her hand to point at the map. “We are right around the corner from the legendary Fountain of Youth.”

-

A local zoo reported a macaw stolen, the owner suspecting it to be a former employee, Robert Boles, who they’d believed to be the unsub. He went to medical school and flunked out in the middle of his first year. They found key information linking him to the case when Penelope found that he currently worked at the same hospital as Dr. Braga. The team rushed to the location where Boles did his experiments on his victims.

“All right, so, in high school Robert Boles got a summer job at a gift shop near the Fountain of Youth archaeological park.” JJ explained. “He got fired for breaking in after hours.”

Y/N and JJ sat in the back seat of the car, leaving Morgan and Hotch in the front. “That’s probably where his obsession with eternal youth started.”

-

They trudged through the hallways of the abandoned building with their guns pointed forward, ready to shoot if needed. “And I won’t let you get in the way!” they heard a man shout from one of the rooms.

The team followed the sound of the voice and turns the corner to see two men standing over a young woman. The younger man they’d identified as Robert Boles, and the young woman being Andrea Gambrell, Y/N assumed.

“Robert Boles, drop the weapon.” Hotch said sternly.

He whipped his head around to them.

“It’s over, man. You’re not getting out.” Morgan steps closer to him.

“Put the knife down, slowly.” JJ said.

Y/N watches as Boles lifts his arms in surrender, opening his hand to drop the knife. Morgan hurried to cuff him, while JJ rushed to untie Andrea strapped to the hospital bed.

“My wife needs help!” The other man, Ben Kebler, tells Hotch urgently.

“Where is she?”

“In the next room!” Mr. Kebler rushed out.

“Show me.” Hotch said, following him, and Y/N followed along. “Call an ambulance,” he tells her.

-

“Medics are on their way,” Y/N said softly, entering the room Hotch and JJ were in and she stood between them.

She looked down to see Eileen Kebler in the hospital bed, her husband leaning over her her. And her heart breaks. Eileen was dying.

“How is she?” Ben Kebler asked, eyes brimming with tears.

The three of them stayed silent, Y/N unable to comprehend what's happening, let alone come up with words to say in that moment. Hotch peers down at him, and Ben knows. He frantically shakes his head, hand shaking as he grabs his wife's hand. “What have I done?!”

“I’m cold,” Eileen mutters.

His face scrunched up. “Eileen, stay with me!” he pleads.

“I am always with you…” she whispers. “Always…”

And she was gone. Sobs echoed throughout the empty building, and Y/N could feel her heart bursting out of her chest. Her eyes watered with tears, then suddenly she felt a hand interlock with hers. It was JJ’s. She squeezes her hand gently, JJ rubbing soothing circles along her knuckles. She let out a soft exhale and used her free hand to wipe away any tears, trying to regain her composure. This part of the job was something she could never get used to. Something the rest of the team couldn’t get used to, no matter how long they’ve worked there.

-

It was safe to say that Y/N was not a night owl. The team were on their way home and she laid on the couch in the jet with a small pillow and blanket that could barely cover her. She smiled to herself as the memory of her finding Spencer snuggled with a far too small blanket the morning after their first movie night. She still cringes at the fact that she accidentally fell asleep barely into the first few movies, but smiles when she remembers what she woke up to. Y/N thought it was sweet that he stayed there with her, and finding Spencer curled up in a messy bundle of blankets made her heart grow twice its size. She took a mental note to call Spencer when they land, and she finally lets her eyes flutter shut, finally being able to rest.

-

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