#i hope this all makes sense my brain turned to mush towards the end

[amarielebeau]

Gambit, Mental Health & Trauma

(Prefacing this with this is my interpretation and analysis of Gambit as a character, past and current events. I've been a fan of roguegambit for over a decade- I love them both so much!!!!!)

Gambit is a character who has canonically experienced a lot of trauma- being abandoned by his parents, growing up on the streets, sold into slavery as a child, his first marriage failing, being exiled from his hometown, etc. (I could honestly go on for days.)

Yet, this is largely ignored by comic writers. In situations where his consent is violated, for example, it's brushed off as a silly haha, and he has no reaction to it whatsoever.

I think the reason his trauma is so unexplored is firstly, because he's a man, and secondly, a lot of these events happened in solo's written by men. Examples of this are Gambit (1999), when he was sold into slavery and Etienne died, as well as the Foxx storyline in X-Men (2004)- both were written by men.

Even in Astonishing X-Men (2017), after the Foxx storyline, Mystique claims -in a throwaway line- to have slept with Gambit presenting as twin sisters. His reaction is, "Wait, what? How?" and that's it. No one else in the group reacts, and it's never acknowledged again.

Personally, if I found out that the mother of my (ex-)partner, who sexually harassed me over an extended period of time in the past, had gone on to violate my consent in such a manner, I would be upset. To say the least.

It's only in more recent years that conversations about men's mental health and consent have begun to happen, so it's not much of a surprise to me (sadly) that events were ignored or brushed over in the past.

The reason for my pointing all of this out is in response to his characterisation in Rogue and Gambit (2023).

Thus far, rather than dealing with his trauma, Gambit has ignored it.

RG23 is the point where everything has caught up with him, and he doesn't know how to cope. I can understand why it might seem like he's suddenly being written as a completely different person- for a very emotionally-driven person, somehow, his trauma has never negatively affected him in the past.

However, to understand RG23, we need to revisit Knights of X (2022)- where Gambit's depression came to the forefront. In issue 1, we see Rogue has left a note stating, "Shug- Working late. Don't wait up - Cher". We see he's unhappy about this, it's not the first time, and it's what leads him to join KOX and travel to the otherworld. He's lonely.

This panel from issue 2 tells us everything we need to know about Gambit's headspace at that point in time. He misses Rogue, he doesn't believe she misses him, and he doesn't believe she loves him anymore.

Gambit has always struck me as the kind of person who desperately wants to be loved, but does not believe he is worth loving. At the beginning of his relationship with Rogue, he wanted her to love him, but he couldn't let himself emotionally invest in her.

This could be attributed to a whole number of things, but I think it all comes down to low self-worth. We know Gambit doesn't think of himself as a good person, which leads to him willfully making bad decisions at times (self-destructive behaviour). We also know that when he loves, he loves with everything he has and more.

After his exile from New Orleans, Gambit chose to abandon Bella Donna instead of bringing her with him. I think, from his perspective, he'd done irrevocable damage to the peace between their families, not to mention killing her brother. He couldn't allow her to sacrifice everything just to be with him, so he left her. Why? Because he didn't believe he deserved her love and dedication.

I'm certain this is a mindset Gambit took to all of his relationships going forward. Flirting, flings, and one night stands are an easy way to feel important for a minute without the risk of someone truly knowing him and deciding he isn't worth their time.

I think this is why it took him so long to admit to Rogue (and himself) that he was in love with her. I think this is also why we've seen him completely give up on communicating with her between KOX and RG23.

If Gambit starts a conversation with Rogue about their relationship, he's opening himself up to rejection. We know from RG23 issue 2's Rogue interview that she would never reject him (from her perspective their marriage is fine), but he doesn't know that. To hear the one person he loves most in the world outright say she doesn't love him anymore... It would break him completely. So, Gambit avoids the conversation.

In KOX issue 3, Gambit essentially killed himself to save his team.

Now, consider his mindset: he's in the Otherworld because he thinks Rogue doesn't love him anymore.

I'm not saying that directly led to him killing himself- as I said, he did so to save his team. However, I think it's safe to say if his mental health was in a better place, he wouldn't have made such a decision, let alone have gone to the Otherworld to begin with.

This page from KOX issue 5 highlights his feelings for Rogue. She's his heart. His reason to live. Compare her statue to all of his:

Rogue's statue is surrounded by light. There's no way anyone could miss seeing it versus his statues, representing multiple versions of himself- all of them are shrouded in darkness, no visible details.

Not only does Gambit not want people to see him, he wants them to look at Rogue. To Gambit, Rogue is the best part of him.

I'm not gonna pretend that's a healthy mindset. If anything, it further emphasises to me his low self-worth.

I want to point out this page for several reasons.

Firstly, it could be said that Gambit didn't want to be saved, and that's why his Death persona manifested to kill his team. He wanted to stay dead.

Secondly, Death is the very very worst part of him, yet he says, "You ain't really changed if you ain't looked in the mirror and seen the worst parts a' yo'self. I am Death, mes amis." He's essentially telling them that this terrible, awful person is who he's always been deep inside. We know this isn't true, but this is what Gambit believes.

Thirdly, as mentioned earlier, when Gambit slips into that belief of "I'm a horrible person", he often makes bad decisions. In RG23 issue 2 (set after KOX), we see him tie an innocent civilian's hand to a gas stove, turn it on and then set it on fire. Gambit knows this is a horrible thing to do, but he's in such a horrible mental state that he doesn't think he's above this behaviour. I will come back to this point.

Gambit asks how anyone new is coming to the Otherworld because the gate between Krakoa and the Otherworld was closed, and Betsy could only take ten of them. To partake on such a dangerous mission, Gambit chose to risk leaving everything behind without knowing if he'd even make it back alive.

In a sense, he abandoned Rogue in a similar way to abandoning Bella Donna. He went somewhere neither of them could reach him. Or supposedly couldn't.

Rogue was first to greet him after his revival. Gambit couldn't believe this because a) he thought he was dead, and b) why would Rogue, who is too busy for him, be the first to see him after his resurrection?

It's easy to think that this moment resolved Gambit's worries that Rogue didn't love him, and that, going forward, their problems were fixed, but as RG23 shows, it didn't. Rogue showing up for him once isn't enough to fix their current issues because the problem lies deeper than Rogue's absence.

At a superficial level, it's easy to blame her for Gambit's mental state, but I believe this depression he's fallen into has been a long time coming. Decades of unprocessed trauma, insecurity and self-destructive behaviour- literally dying and coming back to life, have culminated in the Gambit we see in RG23. To be honest, you have to be in a very very dark place to kill yourself, self-sacrifice or otherwise.

Issue 1 of All New X-Factor (2014) shows Gambit is no stranger to drinking and barfights. The difference is his mindset. We know he can win a fight against multiple people- we've seen that happen many times. So why, in RG23 issue 1, was he suddenly unable to block a punch, let alone hold himself upright?

Because he didn't want to win.

When Rogue arrives to rescue him, we learn multiple things. It's not the first time he's disappeared somewhere without telling her; it's not the first time she's found him so drunk he's incapacitated; it's not the first time she's had to save him from a fight he's not winning.

What this tells me is that Gambit is purposefully putting himself in dangerous situations as a form of self-harm. He doesn't tell Rogue where he's going because he doesn't want her to save him. He drinks to the point he can barely stand to make sure there's no way he can win a fight, and then he starts a fight to get the shit kicked out of him.

It almost seems like, in some sense, he still wants to die, but he can't kill himself. Not while he remains in limbo with Rogue.

It works both ways- if he never asks Rogue how she feels, he never finds out that he's right and that she doesn't love him. He also never finds out he's wrong and that she does love him.

It's important to add here, that Rogue is in a very difficult position.

RG23 issue 1: we can see Gambit actively shutting Rogue out. He calls it a "misunderstanding" and his "business". Despite the fact that they're married, Gambit is basically telling Rogue to stay out of it.

Again, he's shutting her out, making light of such a dangerous situation and then outright ignoring her. In fact, Gambit's completely disregarding her feelings. We can see Rogue is exhausted. It's hard to care about someone who doesn't care about themselves.

And Rogue does care. A lot. Every time Gambit goes missing she goes out to find him, saves him and then brings him home to take care of him.

But she can't help him if he won't let her.

When someone you love hurts themselves, it hurts you too, and Gambit is indirectly hurting Rogue, but he refuses to see that because he's decided that she doesn't care. In his spiral of self-destruction, he's completely shut down communication between them.

Asking for help is never easy to do, and we know he thinks she's too busy for him. He doesn't want to burden her with his issues.

Furthermore, he doesn't want to face his issues and resolve them.

In issue 2 of RG23, after losing their powers, Rogue is freed from the burden of having to consciously control them at all times, and we see them share a moment of physical intimacy.

I find his use of "tête-à-tête" here (French for "a private conversation") ironic because we all know they weren't talking.

Returning to what I said earlier about Gambit and flings- physical intimacy is an easy way to briefly fill the void of what he's missing in emotional intimacy.

I don't believe he suddenly views his relationship with Rogue as something akin to a fling. I think the opposite.

Gambit invests in their relationship physically but not emotionally because to him, that's the safest way he can connect with Rogue right now. Touch is his love language, and when he can't find the words to speak, physical intimacy is the best he can do.

Rogue and Gambit (2018) showed us that, back then, Rogue was the one struggling to communicate her feelings, and Gambit was always very open with her about where he stood, so why the role reversal?

We can see Rogue trying to communicate, but Gambit shuts her down, pushing her away.

By doing this and holding onto the idea that Rogue doesn't love or care about him anymore, Gambit is sub-consciously trying to ruin their relationship.

Given how much he loves Rogue and wants to be with her, this tells me he's still in a very dark headspace.

Going back to the statues being parts of himself he doesn't want anyone to see, as well as becoming Death once more, and finally confessing his core belief- that he can't change, he will always be a terrible person: Gambit's trapped himself in his own insecurity.

If he opens up to Rogue, he risks her seeing him for who he truly believes he is. What comes with that? Rejection.

Here, we see Gambit drinking once again. Rogue also mentions how, on one occasion, he argued with a sommelier over wine. In both issue 1 and 2 Gambit's use of alcohol has been highlighted in a negative light. It's an unhealthy coping mechanism.

Also, it's easy to look at this scene and think Rogue is the one who can't let loose and lighten up, but I think what's actually happening is Gambit is ignoring her feelings, as he did in issue 1. She has a drink and two glasses next to her on the table, so it's not as if they haven't already spent a considerable amount of time having fun there.

When Rogue says they should leave, Gambit's more interested in continuing his escapism- until Black Panther arrives, and he starts another drunken fight he can't win. A pattern has been established.

"He'll save her. He's a hero." is a very telling line that reveals why Gambit did what he did- because he's not a hero, and he knew the woman would be saved.

To reiterate, Gambit believes he is a terrible person who is not above doing terrible things. He does not change: he will always be who he was as Death. The worst of the worst.

By risking an innocent woman's life to save himself (and Rogue), he only furthers this belief.

We see here that Gambit looked back to check if Black Panther did indeed save the woman he endangered. Without looking at Rogue and speaking quietly (evidenced by the smaller writing and bubble), he says to himself, "He saved her." Because Gambit isn't the terrible person he thinks himself to be- he couldn't leave without knowing the woman was safe.

This is how we, the reader, know that Gambit hasn't suddenly changed and become a terrible person. He's struggling with his mental health and sense of identity after a lifetime of trauma.

Honestly, there are so many more traumatic events I could talk about.

There's a long list of people Gambit's lost- as mentioned before, in his 1999 solo, it was shown he was partly responsible for the death of his cousin, Etienne.

In X-Men (1991), we found out that, after a failed heist, Gambit was forced by Sabretooth to pick between saving his brother and saving Genevieve. He chose his brother, and she was killed.

In his 2012 solo, Gambit's love interest, Joelle, killed herself in front of him. In his 2022 solo, he failed to save his love interest, Marissa, and as a result, she became visibly disfigured.

It goes without saying events like the Morlock Massacre would've had a huge impact on his mental health and sense of self-worth too.

If you've read all of the above, you might be wondering why only now are we getting to see the repercussions of all this? Why does all this trauma suddenly matter?

Rogue and Gambit (2018) opened the doorway for exploring their issues as a couple. Mr and Mrs X (2018) gave Rogue an opportunity to revisit her trauma (and finally conquer her powers in the process). Now, I think it's Gambit's turn. At this point, he's surpassed rock bottom, and the only way up is finally confronting these issues.

Will everything I've mentioned here be explored in Rogue and Gambit (2023)? I doubt it. It's very plot-driven and only five issues long.

However, I do think the first step for him is resolving his communication issues with Rogue, which I'm certain will happen in RG23. Afterwards, it wouldn't surprise me if we see him continue to fight his own demons in future issues until he finds his closure.

IN CONCLUSION: I understand the frustration with Gambit's characterisation and why it may seem like he's suddenly become an entirely different person. I don't expect everyone to agree with everything I've said!!

This is my personal interpretation of everything- I'm not trying to blame the current situation entirely on Gambit and act like Rogue can't make a bit more effort.

Their issues are a lot more complicated than simply Rogue not spending enough time with him.

I look forward to seeing this develop further in RG23 :D

tl;dr in my opinion his characterisation so far in Rogue and Gambit (2023) makes sense following the ideas established in Knights of X (2022): Gambit is depressed, has a very low self-esteem, and doesn’t believe Rogue loves him anymore

[lynnlovesthestars]

Could I request headcanons for Harleep, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with kind and patient gn s/o? This is quite self-indulgent of me because I have been told I'm too nice & so patient so I'm curious how they would react XD

first of all sorry for being so late, but my small brain has to process things multiple times to make sense, so i wrote this like... 5 times? So it takes me a while, but i hope that waiting was worth it.

Also i saw you sent a second ask to see if i recieved this one, so ill put dammon and rolan there cause this is starting to get a bit long:3<3 thank you so much for your patience!:3

Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird

Headcanon: BG3 men with kind and patient s/o. (pt. 1)

Zevlor:

Zevlor is emotionally a wreck already, he considers kindness a virtue and it definitely makes him swoon when he notices you put extra care in making sure he's treated with kindness. At the end of the day, he basically got bullied on all fronts when all he really wants is to prove himself worthy of the title he carried for so long.

Zevlor has a short temper too, and he appreciates so much your effort and patience in dealing with his outbursts, whether they are of rage- not towards you of course- or of sadness, you offer always a shoulder for him and he cherishes it so much.

He is lowkey jealous when he notices that your kindness is not mostly exclusive to him, he has learned that people can abuse one's patience and care, and 1. he doesn't want you to get hurt, 2. he wishes your kindness was maybe reserved to him. Call him selfish, but after being deprived of it for so long, he is hesitant to let go of it.

Astarion:

Initially he would be very wary, in his experience being nice always lead to him getting hurt, so why would he trust someone who's default reply is kindness? At the end of the day the last time someone was '''''kind''''' to him, he was turned in a vampire spawn, so he takes it extra slow, he has just regained control over himself, he won't blindly accept kindness. He's lowkey afraid you are just part of a bigger scheme that will bite him in the ass and leave him shackled and caged again.

Once he gets accustomed to your kindness and finally accepts it, he revels in the kindness you offer and your patience, especially the smallest gestures like opening a door for him. He will literally melt for it, he's already smitten, your kindness leaves him like mush in your hands.

Nevetheless every good side, comes with a negative one. He is dead afraid your kindness will bring you to get hurt. He often reminds you to be weary and keep all your kindness for people you trust (HIM), rather than going around and helping every lost soul that asks for help. He will fight you on this a few times- especially if you do get hurt or it is obvious you are about to- he will not bite his tongue and keep it for himself, and that's one of the moments when he's glad you are patient.

You understand where it comes from and you try your best to find a solution that would make both happy. Your patience of course doesn't stop there, he knows he's an handful: he carries an heavy trauma baggage and he has a feisty personality, yet you always show him you don't mind, that you are there for him and that he can take all the time of the universe to sort his problems out.

Wyll:

Wyll would find it so endearing, how you are ready to go to someone's aid, you stop on your tracks to support someone in need, and he would love seeing you being kind to everyone. It's probably one of the reasons why he falls in love with you. Unlike Astarion he encourages you to be kind to everyone, cause he considers it a virtue, he incourages you to be the best version of yourself, and he reminds you that if you do get hurt, he will be there to pick up the pieces.

As far as patience goes, he's grateful to the moon and back, he knows he is an handful, especially if he doesn't break his pact with Mizora and has to leave more times than ever. He makes sure once he's back though that he makes up for lost time, whether it is with gifts or by taking care of you.

Haarlep:

Harleep is so used to Raphael that honestly he's taken aback at first, living in the hells means that kindness is hard to come by and around Raphael? It's either a trick or a miracle, so he brushes it off, not repelled like Astarion would, but definitely not eager like Wyll either.. he would be probably the one that takes it as it is, just.. that. But when he gets used to it? He becomes unsufferable. So unsufferable that he goes around demanding Raphael to be treated with kindness and patience! He purrs whenever you are nice even the smallest, thanking you and praising you like a goddess. He even tries to be nice himself- to you only- and despite it has to be and effort, since he has never been exposed to much kindness, he does become a little more mindful, even asking before taking your form or just with small acts of services.

One time Rapahel makes sure to send a message to you through him. "Tav, Raphael asked you stop being nice to me, cause if i demand it from him as well, he's going to turn me into fertilizer", message delivered with a pout that begs exactly the opposite.

Harleep is another that is deeply afraid of your kindness. Let's be real, you can defend yourself as much as you want, but people tend to use people and your kindness is one of those characteristics evil people would pry on- he knows well since its literally part of what he does, and a facet of what Raphael does as well. He probably scolds you a lot for this reason, he does it in a sweet way- don't get me wrong- he sugarcoats the shit out of it, but he will let you know when you are about to get in peril or you are too careless with your kindness.

Gale:

Gale is touched by your kindness, already from the first days after meeting him.

You had helped him out of his blotched portal, you fed him artifacts, you didn't question his secrets or push him to reveal anything, and he doesn't give that for granted. Once he's closer to you, and he learns that you are unconditionally kind to everyone, he's scared.

He starts warning you to be a little less nice, to use your judgement before you blindly trust a stranger, but he doesn't push it past a warning. As much as he wants to protect you, he doesn't want to take away your chance to grow from your errors.

In matter of your patience he's so grateful, he spends days thanking you when he's still afflicted with the orb condition, he cooks as a form of apology or thanks depending what he did, he gets baths started for you, he's treating you as a queen/ king. He alread would do it, but with you? He's even more protective, he almost feels like he has to match your kindness and patience with as much attentions he can muster.

Halsin:

Halsin is a fair man you think he wishes everyone was kind, but he actually wants you to be fair, he wants you to be mindful of who you give kindness to, he wants you to be a reasonable judge rather than unconditionally nice cause it is the way of the nature as well. Nature is not only nurturing and lush, it's also the poisonous vipers and herbs.

Does he appreciate when you are kind? Absolutely, he thinks it's the best gift Silvanus has ever bestowed him, but it doesn't take away the fact that he wants you to be treated kindly as well, so the moment someone crosses the line and starts abusing your kindness or becomes rude, he's definitely stepping in to s h a m e the other person. "You are lucky you have met Tav, cause they are kind, but nature wouldn't be so understanding and patient" He says it with a rage you rarely see in his eyes.

He will do his best to remind you to surely practice kindness but also to be mindful who you help and who you are kind to, cause there's always rotten that can harm you, and lowkey if you get hurt he will invite you to take back what you gave.

Despite this Halsin considers kindness the bare minimum a person should be, and what stops him from encouraging you to be kinder, its just the knowledge that you might get hurt.

[saellefanwork]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖

Reminder: This Demon Slayer fic is rated Mature (adults only) for canon-typical violence and eventual suggestive or explicit sexual content

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Chapter 27: Home

Returning from home, Tanjiro pays a visit to the former Hashira. During his visit to the Rengokus, he is greeted with wonderful news.

Author Note: Hey dear readers <3 Apologies for the delay in publishing this chapter. I got sick repeatedly and my brain felt like it had turned into mush (it still does, to be honest). Most of my time has been spent recovering, working or doing brainless activities.

But here it is! This officially marks the end of the story, although there will be an Epilogue chapter. (I've adjusted the total number of chapters accordingly.)

What a journey it has been! I hope you enjoyed the ride. Have fun with this chapter, I hope it makes up for all the angst I've put you through <3 Thank you for sticking with this story until its conclusion! Warning: NSFW/kinky scene in the middle ;)

As summer began, the official dissolution of the Demon Slayer Corps took place. Surviving members were bestowed with a generous retirement allowance, securing their financial well-being for the rest of their lives. The wisteria estates remained open to them, providing a sanctuary to heal and rejuvenate their battle-scarred bodies. Now, most of these veterans were trying to rediscover a semblance of normalcy and seek a new purpose in their lives. However, what was normalcy for individuals whose existence had been defined by the relentless pursuit of demons. The answer proved easier to find for some than others.

Eight months after Muzan's defeat, Tanjiro, who had returned to his native mountains with his sister and two best friends, decided to visit his former comrades. His first stop was the Butterfly Estate, transformed into a hospital catering to civilians and veterans alike. Additionally, it now operated as a medical training center specifically for women. There, he reunited with Shinobu, Aoi, Kanao, and the other young butterfly girls he had befriended during his year of service in the Corps. Despite the prospect of a less demanding era, their responsibilities persisted beyond the demise of the demon lord, and they all exuded a sense of fulfilment in their respective roles. Tanjiro genuinely shared their joy.

"Is Giyuu around?" he inquired curiously after completing his check-up. The former Water Hashira's periodically visited the manor's owner, despite their complex and undefined relationship.

"Tomioka-san is often traveling," Kanao responded, having conducted the examination. "He comes back monthly to assess the condition of his arm prosthesis, and I noticed he seems happier and more expressive than before. He and my mistress still quarrel a lot, but you know what they say: 'Misery loves company.'"

"Neither of them appears miserable, though," Tanjiro replied with a smile. "It's probably just their way of caring for each other."

The following morning, Tanjiro bid farewell to his sister and friends at the break of dawn and set on towards the Rengoku Estate. He reached his destination after a relatively tranquil half-day walk. No longer having to rush as he did during his time as a Slayer brought him satisfaction; he could now fully appreciate the beauty of the surrounding landscape. He hoped he could explore the area in the future.

As he entered the estate's gate, Tanjiro's gaze was immediately drawn to Senjuro. The teenager was tending to plants that hadn't been there during the visitor's previous trip. At first glance, Tanjiro could discern that the court appeared more vibrant and flourishing than before.

"Senjuro! It's wonderful to see you again!" the charcoal burner warmly exclaimed.

"Oh... Tanjiro-san! It's been a while!" Senjuro responded with a gleeful smile, setting down his gardening tools to embrace his friend. "How have you been?"

"Good! And you? How's your family?"

"Father is doing well; he's in the backyard chopping wood for the fire. Aneue and Aniue are still at the dojo; they'll be back for lunch. I'll brew some tea; please follow me."

"At the dojo? You have to tell me all about it!" Tanjiro responded with a smile, trailing his friend inside the estate.

The younger Rengoku prepared a fragrant green tea, serving it alongside exquisite-looking pastries to his guest. As Tanjiro savored the treats, he was taken aback by their unique and delightful flavor.

"It's delicious! What is it?"

"These are Kanoko's yokan; she uses sweet potatoes instead of red bean paste. They are Kyojuro's favorite treats."

"I can see why! How are they doing? You mentioned they have a dojo now?"

"Yes! After the final confrontation, my older brother was relieved that there were no remaining demons. However, having dedicated his life to their eradication, he found himself lost on how to fill his days. Boredom and a sense of emptiness weighed heavily on him. That's when Kanoko suggested the idea of establishing a dojo to teach swordsmanship to the citizens. They regularly bring in former Slayers to instruct the students. They've repurposed the old Nagase family house, which Kanoko managed to buy back, as the dojo. This way, the training facility is closer to town, and it avoids having strangers inside our home, which Father wouldn't appreciate. It's been three months now, and their dojo is thriving."

"That’s great! It suits them, they both have the knack for being wonderful sensei."

"Yes! Besides that, Aneue helps me improve my baking skills. I'd like to open a tea house one day."

"That's awesome, Senjuro! Would you consider opening it near my location? We really lack a place to enjoy good tea among friends! It would be a success! Nezuko would be delighted to see you more often."

"I... I'll think about it," the young Rengoku replied, blushing. He secretly harbored feelings for the Kamado girl. "And you, Tanjiro, how are you doing now? Have you managed to regain a normal life?"

"Quite so! We retired back to our old house with Nezuko, along with Inosuke and Zenitsu. The villagers had kept it well for us. Nezuko is going to school and is also working as an herbalist, and I've resumed my charcoal-making activity. Inosuke aids us both with our tasks. Zenitsu, well … he has difficulty walking, so he doesn’t help much. But he has taken up music, and he plays concerts in nearby towns! He’s happy because it makes him popular with girls, without requiring him much effort since he's talented. Former Slayers visit us regularly; you should come too!"

"Oh... That's great! I won't fail to pass on the message to the others; they'll surely like the idea!"

They continued chatting for an extended period, savoring each sip of their brew. Just before they emptied the teapot, Shinjuro joined them. Tanjiro was impressed by the changes that had occurred in the past drunkard; although he still radiated an intimidating and deterrent aura, his emitted a much calmer and serene smell than before. Brief updates were exchanged between him and Tanjiro; the patriarch still wasn't very inclined towards small talk. Suddenly, a familiar voice boomed in the garden:

"We're back home!!"

"Not so loud, Kyojuro!" a feminine voice reprimanded, likely yours.

The couple soon entered the room where the others were gathered. The last Flame Pillar walked with pride and ease; if not for the distinct clattering accompanying his steps, one would never suspect the wooden and metal prosthesis under his knee. Upon noticing his former Tsuguko's presence, Kyojuro's smile widened.

In a burst of joy, Tanjiro threw himself into the arms of his senpai, who caught him and affectionately patted the back of the sniffling boy's head with a hearty laugh.

"Always so emotional, Tanjiro! Glad to see you're doing well!"

"I've missed you all so much!" exclaimed the young charcoal maker, smiling tearfully as he embraced you in return. "Nezuko is at the Butterfly Estate; she'll come too tomorrow if that's okay!" He refrained from mentioning that Zenitsu and Inosuke were also present but had declined his proposal to tag along under various excuses, probably too intimidated by the former Hashira to visit without a good reason.

Senjuro blushed at the news of his crush's upcoming arrival. You noticed and smiled mischievously.

"Well, of course, we'd love to see her too, right, Senjuro? We have work awaiting us, we should prepare the best dishes and pastries for our friends tomorrow."

"I can help you!" Kyojuro offered enthusiastically.

"Your cooking is horrible, son," Shinjuro retorted in a dry tone. "Help me with the roof repairs instead. We need to make sure everything is ready before your baby arrives."

"Your baby?" repeated Tanjiro with sparkling eyes, looking at both of you.

"Nothing is certain," you corrected with a half-hearted glare toward the man and his eldest. "I haven't had my period yet this month, and they're making a big deal out of it. It could be for many other reasons."

"Not with the determination you both put into it every night," Shinjuro mumbled.

You tucked your head into your shoulders and walked away, trying to feign you hadn't heard to escape further embarrassment. Senjuro followed you closely, twisting his hands and avoiding eye contact with flushed cheeks. In contrast, Kyojuro didn't flinch in the face of the accusation, and only nodded vigorously in approval. The burgundy-haired boy showed no reaction to the comment, blinking innocently, his head tilted to the side. As the eldest in a relatively large family living in the middle of the woods, he was not ignorant of how babies were made. His parents had explained it to him, and he had witnessed many animals mating in spring, but he didn't understand why the subject was embarrassing. (The reason was that his parents had been much more discreet in the conception of their kids, preserving their intimate moments far outside of their home, which only had one common room.)

Tanjiro lingered for the meal and part of the afternoon, visiting the dojo and assisting everyone in their household activities, before heading back to the Butterfly Estate. Despite your and Kyojuro's efforts to convince him to stay overnight by arguing that it wasn't very safe to travel alone late, the young man declined.

"It'll be fine; I should arrive before it gets too dark, and the moon is almost full anyway. Not to mention, nights are much less dangerous than before," he reminded reassuringly.

You nodded reluctantly, scratching the back of your head. It was sometimes challenging to remember yourselves that the world had changed and that darkness was no longer the demons' territory.

"True, but there's still the risk of aggressive animals and marauders," you argued nonetheless. You were concerned that the boy's disabled eye and arm would make it difficult for him to orientate or defend himself.

"I'm unlikely to encounter any, but I’d handle it even if that's the case," he replied with confidence as if he had read your thoughts. "I promised Nezuko I'd be back tonight, I wouldn't want her to worry. See you tomorrow!"

After bidding you farewell enthusiastically, the young man trotted away at a good pace, demonstrating that he had lost almost nothing of the speed and endurance acquired over the past few years.

The next day, you closed the dojo after the morning session, giving you and Senjuro time to prepare various dishes, both sweet and savory. When the Kamado siblings arrived in the late afternoon, the little Rengoku was extremely nervous, fidgeting around and busying himself with trivial tasks. This flustered side of him was clearly in contrast with the spectacular confidence and spontaneity his older brother exuded, but it made him endearing. With a small smile, you thought that he and Nezuko would make a nice couple. Both had sweet and altruistic personalities, and you knew they would grow into fine and reliable adults.

You found a reason to attend to something in the dojo despite the fact that the place was closed, providing the two youngest an opportunity to spend time together, and you forcefully brought Tanjiro along. The redhead resisted a bit, his protective side unsure about leaving his little sister alone with another boy. However, he yielded easily to Kyojuro's enthusiasm to train with him, the fiery man unwittingly assisting you since he had yet to realize his baby brother's feelings for Nezuko.

When you all regrouped later for dinner, the atmosphere was cheerful, with everyone displaying a relaxed expression. Conversations flowed, relating the events of the day and sharing updates on various people you knew. Taking advantage of the moment, Tanjiro sought more details about his friends' situations.

"So, you're married then," Tanjiro presumed, given it was the norm for couples living under the same roof and trying to start a family. "Since when? Should I call you Rengoku-san now, Nagase-san?"

"I'm still a Nagase, but feel free to call me Kanoko, Tanjiro-san," you replied with a smile. "We completed the civil registry form upon our return to Komazawa, so, in the eyes of the country, we're already wedded. However, my ancestor Nagase Oai secured a special agreement for saving one of the Emperor's relative from a demon during the Sengoku era. As a result, the husband of a Nagase and their children are supposed to adopt her name. While very few Japanese men would accept this, Nichirin swordsmiths were willing to forsake their identity to shield their clan from demons, which is why the Nagase women have always betrothed men from the Swordsmith village. Since Kyojuro is the eldest son of an esteemed warrior family with origins older than mine, enforcing this rule posed stronger social challenges than before. It was eventually agreed that our first son would be a Rengoku, and the subsequent children Nagase."

Tanjiro appeared impressed by the explanation. With a dreamy and curious look, he asked, "Since you had a love marriage [A/N: "renai kekkon," opposed to the most common option at this time, the "omiai kekkon," arranged marriage], how did Kyojuro-san propose to you, Kanoko-san?"

You choked on your tea, accidentally spitting it in the young man's face. Struggling with a violent fit of coughing, you managed to offer a handkerchief to your new victim, who was frozen in surprise with closed eyes.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't expect that question. I mean ... uh..."

"It's a fun story!" Kyojuro interjected with his loud voice. "I asked her while we were – ..."

"DON'T TELL HIM!" you shouted, slapping a hand over his mouth. He didn't even blink despite the force of the impact.

"Perhaps it's better to keep that information private!" he corrected himself, his enthusiastic expression unfazed when you released him after a few seconds of caution.

Nezuko and Senjuro laughed at your interaction, while Shinjuro rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. Only Tanjiro seemed lost: "Um ... okay, I guess? I don't see what's so funny ... but as long as you're happy."

"You're too innocent, big brother," teased Nezuko with a smile.

"Eeeeh?! I'm not sure I want to hear that from you, Nezuko," Tanjiro retorted with a worried look.

"You're perfect as you are, Tanjiro," you reassured him firmly, still feeling embarrassed. At that moment, you were immensely grateful for his innocence.

"Ha! That reminds me, Tanjiro! The Shinto ceremony and the wedding banquet will take place in early autumn; you should come!"

"You didn't send him the invitation?" you asked with an aghast expression, briefly forgetting the previous topic.

"Hmm! It's quite plausible that it slipped my mind!" Kyojuro replied with a carefree smile.

You massaged the bridge of your nose with a sigh, looking exasperated, and everyone around chuckled. You couldn't help but grin at your turn; it was impossible to stay angry for long against your husband, with his radiant and warm personality despite his (endearing) oddities. The evening concluded shortly after that, and the Kamado siblings slept in this time before heading home, carrying with them the promise to return in a few months with their friends to celebrate your union.

In the tranquil dawning, a gentle fragrance, a blend of berries and blooming flowers wafted through the lush garden, accompanied the pleasant and hazy dreams that often ended your nights of rest since peace had returned for the demon slayers. Lazily turning around, you were delicately drawn from the depths of slumber by someone caressing in your hair. You smiled weakly, knowing whose hand was playing with your morning-messy locks.

"Hey..." you greeted slightly hoarsely, fluttering your heavy lids open.

"Rise and shine, little flame. Today is the day you become my wife," announced Kyojuro's voice cheerfully as he rubbed the tip of his nose against your temple.

"I'm already your wife, honey," you reminded him in an amused tone.

"In my heart and in the eyes of the Emperor, but not yet before the gods."

You chuckled softly at his lyrical outburst, much to his delight. He enjoyed seeing you so relaxed and happy. He tenderly placed his lips on yours, savoring your laughter at its source.

You closed your eyes, relishing in the sensation of his lips meeting yours as one of the first feelings to greet you each morning. Parting your lips, you welcomed the gentle exploration of his tongue. The warm hands of your beloved cupped your chest, fondling your bosoms adoringly over the light night yukata, causing your nipples to peak through the fabric. It was hard to track any changes while he had the pleasure of touching your breasts almost every day, but Kyojuro couldn't help to believe that they had grown and become more sensitive lately. He wondered if it a potential sign of pregnancy. The thought of witnessing your body transform to welcome a future baby into the world excited him even more than he already was.

The deepening kiss, coupled with these affectionate caresses, quickly stirred a familiar warmth within you, altering the rhythm of your breathing. Deliberately, Kyojuro loosened your collar, sliding his hand underneath to explore your soft contours before delicately rolling one of your nipples between his rough fingers. Your moan was muffled against his tongue, and you felt him press his hips against you in response, a notable bulge forming under his yukata.

"Aren't we going to be late if we keep going?" you managed to murmur, though you weren't sure to possess enough willpower to halt your intimate activities.

"Mhh... Maybe, but does it matter? The party can't start without us anyway."

An amused snort evaded you. With a smile, Kyojuro's fervent lips descended towards your chest, tearing aside the other piece of fabric to reveal your bosom, and closed his mouth around your neglected nipple. A slight gasp escaped you at the temperature contrast between the cool morning air and the searing warmth of his tongue playing with your sensitive tit. Uncertain whether to give in and pull him closer or be reasonable and push him away, you found yourself tightly gripping his mane. He groaned and pressed his groin harder against you in reaction, lightly biting your delicate skin.

"Ha ..., it's difficult to believe I'm dealing with the strict and punctual Flame Pillar."

"Good thing I'm retired, then. But you know, I used to be occasionally late because of important missions. And now, there's a crucial one that requires all my attention."

"Which one?" you asked, matching his tone, a small smirk playing on your face.

His lips left your panting chest to whisper in your ear, lightly nibbling its contour. The hand that was teasing one of your nipples slid under your slightly loosened belt, slowly tracing your slick folds with the tips of his fingers.

"Making sure to make you the mother of my children."

Despite anticipating a response of this nature, you couldn't help but blush at his directness, sucking in some air sharply. He subtly shifted over you while kissing your neck with burning passion, rubbing his clothened hardness between your tights. You were more than willing to support him in his mission. Panting slightly, you also loosened his obi, freeing his imposing manhood that slammed against your partially exposed lower belly. You stroked the silky and flushed skin of his engorged member, hearing your partner take a deep breath as your cool fingers locked around his grith, stimulating him in a back-and-forth motion while conspicuously guiding him towards your warm and welcoming opening.

Kyojuro slipped his hand under one of your knees, bringing your leg close to your bust and spreading it to grant him full access to your intimacy and allow for the promised penetration and release to be as deep as possible. His tongue found yours again in a feverish dance, his free hand grazing your jaw before closing around your throat as his firm tip kissed your lower lips, teasing you with shallow thrusts.

Even though you were well acquainted with Kyojuro's seductively provocative side and understood that the slow buildup and restraints were meant to prepare for a more intense pleasure later on, impatience gripped you. You wanted him to pin you harshly to the futon mat and make love to you wildly now; besides, you had no time to waste with the day ahead. Annoyed, you delivered a sharp slap to Kyojuro's buttocks, drawing his shocked gaze towards you. However, you didn't miss the peculiar gleam in his blazing, widened pupil, suggesting something more than mere surprise. You also felt how his hand tightened around your neck and how his manhood subconsciously hit deeper against your inner walls when the slap resonated.

"Don't tease me, Kyo."

"Do that again," he requested lowly, his tone both mischievous and interested.

You raised a brow, pleasantly intrigued. "Did you like..."

Someone cleared their throat behind the bedroom door, disturbing you:

"Kyojuro, Kanoko ... interrupt what you're doing ... whatever you're doing ... we need to prepare shortly," mumbled Shinjuro's deep and noticeably uncomfortable voice. "Your friends have arrived to help you get dressed for the ceremony ... try to look presentable before receiving them."

In an instant of stunned silence, you and your husband exchanged wide-eyed glances, jaws slightly ajar, pondering when the patriarch had approached and how much he had overheard – probably more than you could dare to imagine. You hid your flushed face in your hands, feeling dreadful for having subjected yet again the inhabitants of the house to the consequences of your passionate love. Even Kyojuro looked somewhat uncomfortable for once.

"I guess the mission we wanted to accomplish will have to wait for the approval of the gods," he sighed after a moment.

The almost dramatic conclusion broke the sexual and nervous tension, and you burst into laughter. Kyojuro smiled and kissed you one last time before releasing you to get dressed more properly.

The preparations took several hours, at least for you. Tengen barged into your room unannounced, seemingly disappointed not to find you in a compromising situation (you silently thanked Shinjuro for his earlier intervention). Declaring that you were going to be late, the shinobi had thrown his best friend over his shoulder and rushed away, followed by a fidgety Senjuro, alarmed to see his big brother transported like a mere bag of rice. Meanwhile, you received the much more courteous visit from Mitsuri and Nezuko, both excited to help you with your makeup and dress. For the occasion, you had planned to wear a shiromoku, a magnificent white wedding kimono. Its fabric was adorned with discreet kanoko motifs sewn in a different, silky thread. The outfit was paired with a long red uchikake coat embroidered with gold, reminiscent of the colors of the house you were joining, but featuring the Nagase family emblem on your back instead of your husband's. Another departure from strictly conventional attire was the absence of a headdress, as you disliked its symbolism of submission. Convincing Shinjuro had been challenging, as he was a man of tradition, however Kyojuro had argued extensively in your favor and ultimately obtained the approval of his father and the Shinto priest. Consequently, the girls settled for styling your hair into a taka bun, adorned with flowers and mother-of-pearl pins.

"Your hair is beautiful, Kanoko-san!" Nezuko exclaimed. "Its snow-white shade with hints of metallic blue is amazing."

"Thank you. Actually, that's not how they used to look like. The same goes for my irises ... they depigmented when I became a demon, and since then, they've never regained their natural aspect."

"Oh, I didn't know. I'm sorry. They suit you well, though ... what color were they before?"

You friendly answered their questions, and the conversation seamlessly transitioned into discussions about each other's unusual genetic or acquired traits. You learned the origin of Tanjiro's scar and Mitsuri’s cute but curious features – apparently, she had eaten such a huge quantity of sakura mochis that her hair and eyes changed color overnight. You smiled as you listened to her story, thinking it was a tale Kyojuro could have come up with.

By the hour they finished with your refined makeup, the rest of the household had already departed. Taking a taxi to the shrine that had accepted your unconventional marriage, you experienced the speed and comfort of a motorized vehicle for the first time. Despite the noise and smell, the modernity of the conveyance left a lasting impression on you. The world was undoubtedly changing while you were busy battling demons, and you found yourself wondering about the additional technologies that would be introduced in the upcoming years. Arriving at the shrine, you noticed that only Shinjuro was waiting at the bottom of the stairs leading to the sacred place, arms crossed.

"The others are already in the sanctuary," he explained while you descended from the vehicle. "Uzui insisted that you and Kyojuro keep the surprise of your outfits until the very last occasion. I stayed behind to welcome you. We can join them now."

Mitsuri and Nezuko eagerly ascended the steps, impatient to catch a glimpse of the groom, leaving you alone with the older man. Shinjuro scrutinized you for a moment, and his expression softened.

"I was skeptical about your choices, but you make a beautiful and very dignified wife, Kanoko. I'm sure Ruka would have been delighted to have you as a daughter too."

The unexpected compliment warmed your heart. You met Shinjuro's gaze and sincerely smiled.

"Thank you, Father."

Shinjuro appeared moved by the term of address, although he swiftly concealed his emotions with a cough and a furrowed brow, suddenly bothered by an invisible speck of dust on his haori sleeve. While it was customary for married women to address their in-laws this way, you had never adhered to it, and he hadn't held it against you given your shared history. Regaining composure, he extended his arm to escort you, as a parent would if they had been present. Smiling, you slipped your hand into the crook of his elbow, ready to follow him when someone called out to you from behind.

"Kanoko."

You turned your head in surprise.

"Giyuu! You came," you exclaimed, beaming. "You hadn't responded to the invitation, so I thought I wouldn't see you."

Shinjuro squinted at the man. He was wearing western clothes and had shorter hair, now, but he had recognized him; they had crossed paths a few time before the official end of his Flame Pillar career. He instinctively felt that there was a special connection between you two. Did his son already have a rival? Perhaps he should have insisted more on the wedding headdress, after all.

"I'm not staying. I just wanted to congratulate you," your raven-haired friend replied with a sweet smile.

Despite the changes he underwent following the triumph over Kibutsuji Muzan, the last Water Hashira was still not at his best in crowded or noisy environments, such as the upcoming banquet. He was also hesitant to draw attention to himself by attending the religious union of a woman he had courted. Kyojuro wouldn't mind his presence because he deeply respected his former comrade and could only empathize with the feelings he had developed for you (he had approved the invitation, after all). The groom wasn't the type to seek to humiliate people out of insecurity either, and you were sure he would treat Giyuu with as much care as any guest, making every effort to ensure his comfort. However, you couldn't ignore the possibility that the other retired Pillars might tease the late visitor, knowing his repressed love for you. The last thing you wanted was for your friend to feel uneasy in such a joyous occasion.

"I'm grateful," you stated genuinely. "That means a lot to me. How about we share some salmon with daikon radish when you're back in the area?" You were aware it was his favorite dish.

"Deal," he responded, his eyes creasing slightly as his smile widened. "Be happy, Kanoko. You deserve it.”

“So do you.”

Never had you seen such a bright and expressive smile on him before; the warmth it brought to you was palpable. Regardless of your memories together and the uncertainties of the future, Giyuu would always hold a significant place in your heart, and you knew the sentiment was mutual. Seeing him content only added to your happiness. You reached out, and he accepted your hand without hesitation, intertwining your fingers before lifting them to his lips for a gentle kiss. Without lingering, he released you swiftly, his expression still serene, before bowing his head to you and Shinjuro, vanishing as quickly as he had appeared.

The Rengoku patriarch clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"Good riddance. I don't like him. Back in the Corps, he always acted like he was mute but had a sharp tongue when he opened his mouth, and this nasty habit of doing as he pleases. Who behaves like that with a taken woman, anyway?"

"Not to offend you, Shinjuro-san, but you don't seem to like many people," you retorted playfully. The grumpy patriarch grumbled, eliciting a giggle from you. "Don't worry. Giyuu is a precious friend and an honorable man, despite what you think. He would never interfere. And, most importantly, I'm deeply in love Kyojuro, whom I am marrying today, remember? How about you escort me to his side now... Dad?"

The mature man blushed, caught off guard by your sudden familiarity, and quickly reminded you to address him as "chichiue", not "oto-san," though there was no heat in his reprimands. You chuckled at his strictness and followed him up the stairs leading to the shrine, still holding onto his arm.

In the sanctuary courtyard, Kyojuro, the Kamado siblings, Mitsuri, Tengen and his wives awaited your arrival. Seeing your husband meticulously dressed in his wedding attire made your heart skip a beat. He donned a black montsuki over a dark hakama, the flaming emblem of his family adorning his haori's back and the crest of your family placed on the chest. Tengen had evidently spent time styling his friend's unruly mane into a refined bun, leaving his spiky fringe and two shorter strands along his jaw to frame his sunny face. The artistic touch of the exuberant "god of festivities" was apparent in the eyepatch decorated with incandescent gemstones covering Kyojuro's usually bare scar, along with discreet jewelry around his wrists, neck, and belt. After admiring you with a gleam in his eye, your husband approached you and excitedly took your hand. Shinjuro sighed as he adjusted to your not-quite-traditional outfits and your constant public displays of affection, holding back his gruff comments.

"I knew you would look beautiful in wedding attire, Kanoko, but you're even more stunning than anything I could dream of."

"Thank you, sunshine, but don't get too used to it. I still prefer wearing hakama, and the makeup and hairstyle took way too long for me to tolerate it on a regular basis. You are very handsome, too..."

"Don't get too used to it either. I thought Uzui was plotting to pull my hair out trying to comb it. I had to stop him from putting lipstick on me and painting my nails, and you should have seen the haori covered with rubies that he had initially prepared. The thing was sparking so brightly it would have blinded our guests, and it was the heaviest mantle I had ever worn," he confided in a hushed tone that was still too loud to go unnoticed, especially by the former Sound Hashira.

"Hey, you ungrateful bastard," protested the interested party. "It's not my fault if you have no taste. Monogamous couples like you only get married once, at least most of the time, so why not make it memorable with a flashier style? I don't get lame people."

Laughter filled the air until the priest and maikos urged everyone to calm down, marking the beginning of the ceremony.

The banquet that unfolded after the Shinto ritual took place directly at the Rengoku Estate. Such occasions were known for hosting a broader social circle than the shrine's exclusive guest list. Many former Demon Slayers attended, alongside associates from your independent demon-hunting career and the residents of Komazawa. The buffet, offering a variety of dishes and desserts, featured highlights such as hayashi beef rice and salt-grilled bream with roasted sweet potatoes – both yours and Kyojuro's favorites. While a few families retired after the sumptuous meal, the ensuing party remained vibrant. To the delight and amusement of the guests, Tengen and Zenitsu entered a live musical contest.

Stepping away from the exuberant show, you sought a moment of calm in the night air. Before long, your husband joined you, wrapping you in his embrace.

"Is everything okay, my love? Would you like me to ask the guests to leave?"

"No, it's not often we get to have this much fun with our friends; let's savor it a bit longer." As you held your beloved in your arms, a faint scent caught your attention. "Did you have a drink, Kyojuro?"

"Um ... just a little. Can you smell the alcohol?" he inquired with concern, the idea conjuring unpleasant memories related to his father.

"Barely, it's not overpowering, just unusual."

"Uzui is a bad influence, I'm afraid," he chuckled somewhat sardonically. "Kocho and Shinazugawa too. They convinced me that since I already had sake at the temple, I could break my habits for today and return to being the 'boringly sober Rengoku' after the party."

You offered a small empathetic smile. His comrades were likely just enthusiastic about fully letting loose with the groom for this exceptional celebration. While you didn't find it proper to encourage excessive drinking, you knew they were all good people, making it difficult to harbor any resentment towards them. Moreover, Kyojuro wasn't one to yield without being confident in his decisions, even under pressure. Unlike his father's experiences with sake, he was in a positive mental state, allowing him to appreciate alcohol in moderation.

"Hey! Rengoku! You'll have the rest of the night with your wife; for now, you're supposed to entertain us. Give us a speech," Tengen interrupted loudly from a distance, and everyone around him erupted in cheers.

Releasing you and proudly crossing his arms over his chest, Kyojuro turned to his friends and exclaimed with a big smile, his voice resonating throughout the estate:

"Of course! Allow me to regale you with the epic legends of my ancestors! Like the time when Rengoku Genjuro faced the giant river shrimp that terrorized the nearby villagers...!"

"Whaaaat? That's not the kind of speech I was asking for!" protested Uzui amid the guffaw of the audience, but it was already too late; Kyojuro was on a roll.

The story turned out to be truly engrossing, and you laughed until tears poured down your cheeks as Kyojuro explained how Genjuro, after defeating the titanic creature with a secret Flame Breathing technique, requested as a reward that the villagers make tempura out of its flesh. He consumed so much of the resulting mountain of tempura that his hair took on a shrimp color, and since then, it became a characteristic of the Rengoku family.

"I thought it was because your ancestor Imojuro had eaten too many sweet potatoes?" Tanjiro asked very seriously when the laughter calmed down. He had heard that version during his time here as a Tsuguko. Shinjuro let out a brief snort at the mention of this nonexistent ancestor whose first particle, "imo," already meant "sweet potato."

"No, it's said it’s because of the Kankagari ceremony performed by Rengokus' wives, who gaze at a flame for two hours a day during their pregnancy," Senjuro intervened with a sympathetic smile for his brother’s former student's gullibility.

"Exactly, it's for all these reasons!" Kyojuro exclaimed enthusiastically.

Wiping away your tears, you observed your husband's return after a few more minutes of mingling with the guests. Your friends and family engaged in animated discussions about the possible reasons behind the hereditary traits of the Rengokus and why they seemed to only produce male offspring. A smile adorned your face as you relished the lively debates and the comforting presence of your beloved beside you on the engawa.

"I wish this happiness could last forever," you unintentionally let slip.

Your voice faltered as you realized you had openly shared your thoughts. Averting your gaze, you quietly cursed yourself. You were normally better at silencing your reflections, especially when it came to subjects that could involve contemplation of your potentially shortened lifespans. Maybe the carefree atmosphere of the night had made you more vulnerable and unguarded with your emotions.

Kyojuro turned his gleaming ember eye towards you with a gentle smile as he took your hand in his.

"That will be the case, my love. This happiness will still burn bright, even long after our departure; our dear ones possess the willpower to sustain its flame. As for us, let's not fret about whether or not we will survive beyond the predictions. I intend to savor every moment I have with you, whether it spans a few years or decades. And whatever the outcome, I am confident that we will continue our story in our next life. One lifetime has never been enough to show you how much I love you, anyway."

Widening your eyes, you scrutinized Kyojuro attentively, only to find that he was gazing back at you with a knowing grin, as if you both shared a secret. Had he learned about Genjuro and Oai feelings for each other too? Did he suspect, like you, that they were your past incarnations?

Reflecting his expression, you smiled back at your husband. You chose not to inquire about whether he also retained memories of the Sengoku era. The tale of your ancestors was already etched in history, more tragic than joyful, while the path to a brighter future lay ahead. It was sufficient to believe that your soulmate would keep his promise, accompanying you for as long as possible, in this life and the next.

Author Note: I need a meme of Shinjuro contemplating his life choices while Kanoko and Kyojuro wreak havoc on the house with their loud sex life lmao. The poor man just can't catch a break.

This chapter was a very different than what I usually write, focusing mostly on fluff, humor, and happy scenes, with just a hint of angst at the end – hopefully, the right amount, concluding on a sweet note. Similar to Gotouge's approach in the official manga, I've left it open to your imagination whether the Marked (and Kanoko) had their lives cut short or not. I'm sure they were happy until the end in both cases.

As always, if I made a cultural mistake, please feel free to point them out. I conducted as much research as possible, but in the end, I'm neither Japanese nor a specialist in the topics covered here, lol.

There were some details I wanted to add, but they didn't fit the story's pace. Perhaps they'll find a place in a Bonus section along with other cut or dumped scenes. I did manage to say some stuff about Kanoko appearance here, which I kind of forgot to include earlier despite the fact that it was planned a long time ago. Let's see how it will go with the edited version I'd like to do later on.

Do you have any questions? Is there an AU of this fic that you would wish to see? (like an alternative ending, an different path, hidden or extra scenes, spin-offs with the same characters, etc.) Say it in the comment section or reach out to me directly! I might write some bonus chapters if inspiration strikes, so share your dreams! lol. I also want to highlight that if you want to write or make some art about this story yourselves then, you're welcome to do so, please link it to me <3.

Also, let me express again how happy I was receiving your likes, noticing your reblogs and reading/replying to your comments <;3 Your support fueled my motivation and set my own heart ablaze!

[wlwloverwrites]

Yours

Pairing: Bottom!Natasha Romanoff x Top!Reader

Warnings: friends with benefits relationship, fingering, choking, fluff towards the end, spelling and grammar mistakes, smut (+18)

Request can be found here.

Main Masterlist

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS ON ANY OTHER PLATFORMS. DO NOT TRANSLATE MY WORK. NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO DO SO

“Please,” she begs, her voice is whiney as she continues to hold off her orgasm, waiting for you to grant her permission to come.

Always being a good girl.

Her neck is bruised with your marks, the same marks she hoped you made from wanting to her claim her. The ones she wanted to show off so people knew she was yours, but she wasn’t.

She isn’t yours, nor are you hers. At least not yet.

“Please. Please, let me come.”

“Love when you beg, Natty. Always so pretty when you beg.” You praise while thrusting your fingers inside her dripping pussy. Your thumb is rubbing small circles on her clit, groaning when she clenched around your fingers.

“I’m so close.”

“I know, baby. I can feel you clenching around my fingers, such a good girl. Love that your such a good girl.”

Natasha opens her mouth to reply but is cut off but a her moans spilling out. Your mouth is sucking on her sweet spot, your unoccupied hand rested on her throat, squeezing with the slightest amount of pressure.

“I’m your good girl.”

Your fingers falter for only a second before they continued their fast pace. Drenched fingertips press against her the soft spongy spot inside her.

“Your my good girl?” Your voice is filled with lust, the ache between your legs grows with the sudden urge to hear Natasha say she’s yours.

When she doesn’t answer you begin to get cold feet. Still semi afriad, you have the need to ask again. Your hand wrapped around her throat loosens, almost immediately she inhaled.

She remains silent, her hand is now wrapped around your wrist, trying to slow your fingers. The pleasure was beginning to become too much. Her legs try to trap your hand between her thighs, every thrust made her shake with sensitivity.

You take a moment to watch her, her dark eyes are blown with lust, bottom lip stuck between her teeth, vibrant blood coats her teeth. Almost immediately you lean down to lick the metallic taste, never pressing your lips against hers.

Kissing had been off limits when you made your little agreement.

“Come on, sweetheart.” You encourage by bringing your lips to kiss her neck. Teeth brush over the marks you made sure to leave the night before we she sneaked into your bedroom.

“Are you mine?” Adding another finger to the mix, hissing when her nails dig into your back. Her brain is struggling to tell her mouth to say very simple words. She wants to scream that you own her, that she’s yours, but all you get is babbling and small whines. Three fingers was all it took to make her brain mush.

You watch as Natasha throws her head into the pillows as she let out a a loud moan. Ready to be pushed over the edge she lifts her hips and grinds on your hand. Determine to hear her answer you stop everything.

Natasha is quick to groan in protest but you’re quick to shush her. Tears building up in the corner of her eyes, the ruined orgasm and the frustration of not having the ability to form a sentence.

“Come on, Baby,” You say softly, your thumb wipes the warm tears that began to fall before continuing. “Tell me you’re mine, huh?.”

Sensing her frustration you do your best to ease the tension by pressing playful kisses all over her body. Small kisses are scattered all over her breasts, neck, and cheeks. A smile starts to appear on her face, her heart was finally calming down.

Pressing a soft kiss on her nose, silently reminding her that’s she’s safe... with you.

“I’m yours, Y/N.”

Your heart bursts with happiness, connecting your lips for the first time. Her lips are softer then you imagined, you can still taste the faint blood on her bottom lip. Tongue fighting for dominance, Natasha gives in immediately, spreading her legs for you. Shyly she grabs your hand and places it between her soaked thighs.

Tracing your fingers along her thighs, teasing her just a little bit more. You swallow her moan with a kiss when you finally rub her clit. Twitching under your touch from sensitivity.

“My good girl wants to come?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay, Natty. You can come.”

You watch as she falls apart in your arms, her eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as she rides out her well-deserved orgasm. Her cheeks are flushed as is her chest. Her body glistening with a thin layer of sweat, looking more beautiful than ever.

Bringing your soaked fingers to your lips, cleaning her slick with your tongue. Natasha covers her embarrassed expression behind her hands, through her fingers she makes eye contact with you.

“Don’t get all shy on me now,” you tease with a smile.

“You’re the worst.”

You gasp with fake offense, resting your hand on your chest just above your heart. Inhaling sharply and pretending to sob as you wipe away nonexistent tears. You drop beside her on the queen size bed staring at the ceiling. Your little show make Natasha laugh.

“I can’t believe my girlfriend thinks I’m the worst,” you blurt out to no one in particular. You don’t realize what you said until she questions you.

“I’m your girlfriend?” she asks cheerly, her eyes are filled with hope. She turns her body so she facing yours completely, she doesn’t bother with covering her body with the thin white sheet.

“Only if you want to be,” you confirm with a smile, wrapping your arm around her and letting her lay her head on your naked chest. Your fingers thread through her hair and the both of you stare at each other, enjoying each other’s company.

“Okay, then. We are girlfriends.”

The words of confirmation are a silent ‘I love you’.

Give me Feedback

[sassymoon]

drunk confessions

pairing: ralvez (spencer reid x luke alvez) summary: spencer wakes up and tries to remember what happened last night and why is there a hand hugging him? genre: can you believe i can write fluff? with happy ending? word count: 1.3k cw: mentions of prison, spencer hates himself (as usual), some kissing. very gay and cute. a\n: i wrote this for the 2k celebration of the angel who is @boldlyvoid. they asked for happy ending so i tried my best, even tho i mostly write heart breaking angst. i used the prompt "Character A has been sleep deprived forever, the first nightmare-free sleep they get is next to character B for the first time". emily my love im so proud of you for your milestone and am proud to call you my friend! hope you like the story xx

masterlist

Science doesn't have a definitive answer to what is the first sense you feel when waking up. Some think its sight, that harsh lights will hit our eyes and wake our body up.

Others speculate its hearing, loud noises will rush our adrenaline and wake the body to an alert state. Some scientists even say that all the senses never really go to sleep- the brain simply ignores them in favor of letting the body sleep and rejuvenate. But this morning, the first sense I felt was touch. I felt a strong arm around my torso, holding me close to them, pulling me towards the body that was pressed to my back.

If it wasn't for the headache and hangover I clearly had, I probably would have figured out sooner how I ended up in this situation, but my mind was too slow on this early Sunday morning.

My next sense to wake up was sight. I opened my eyes slowly and waited for them to adjust to the rays shining from the window, my bedroom window.

Ok, so I'm definitely at my house and not at a stranger's bed. But the question still remains, who does the mystery hand belong to? And why does it make me feel so comfortable i don't want to ever pull away? The brown hand that hugged me started moving, but I was still too afraid to turn around and face them.

Hearing came next, and I heard some yawns and hums from the person behind me. As my mind was still foggy from the alcohol of last night, it took me some time to realize the person was laying small kisses on my neck, and pulling me impossibly closer to them. “Good morning sleepy head, how did you sleep?”

Now that voice I could recognize in any state of mind. The voice of the man I fantasize about in lonely nights, the man who made me feel like I'm safe by just being beside him.

The man that most definitely cannot love me the same way I love him. Turning around to face the curly haired beauty beside me, I looked at him with eyes open wide and shocked expression. “L-luke? Wh-what are you doing here? In my bed?”

The sleepy angel just laughed, and moved his hands from my stomach to my face. The few seconds that went on without him touching me felt so cold, I never imagined I could crave someone's touch that much. “Baby, do you not remember last night?” I nodded my head no and couldn't find any words to speak. Hearing him call me baby turned my brain into mush and I lost all ability to think. How did he manage to do that? Make me melt and lose my wits with just his touch? Luke rubbed his thumbs across my cheeks and a wide smile spread across his face. I wish I could see this smile all day for the rest of my life. His smile radiated so much warmth that I felt like it could produce electricity better than any nuclear plant could ever try. He was sunshine personified and I was lucky enough to get him to hold me.

“Last night, you called me drunk at around 10pm, claiming you couldn't sleep and asked me to come help you.

You said that since prison you haven't had a good night sleep, and you need some company” I nodded along to his story, even though it was very hard to concentrate when his hands were holding me and his eyes looked deep into my soul. I felt like he could feel all of my emotions and he knows me better than I could ever know myself, I would trust my life with him. And I did. “When I came over you were wasted, so I helped you brush your teeth and get into bed. But after I tucked you in and tried to go back to the living room, you started crying. Do you remember why spencer?”

Shit. it all came back to me now. Drunk love confessions and asking Luke to hug me to sleep. Rambling about how close human contact can help relieve nightmares and PTSD and how all I wanted was someone to hug me.

But that was a lie, I didn't want just anyone. I wanted Luke. Ever since I came out of prison all I wanted was to kiss him, but I was too afraid of rejection. I was willing to let my emotions hide forever because I was sure he would never want me back. And here I am, being a drunk mess, confessing my love. I moved away from his touch, even though it felt like I was taking my life force away from me. I had to hide my face from him, my embarrassment eating me alive.

“Fuck luke, I- I am so sorry. I was just drunk and a mess i didn't mean to- to a, you know make you uncomfortable” But I couldn't really get away. His strong arms gripped my waist once again and pulled me close, our noses almost touching. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think about anything but him.

“I guess you remembered how you confessed your love to me, am I right?” My eyes shut and I nodded slowly, bowing my head down. But I couldn't hide my shame much longer, when Lukes fingers lifted my chin to meet him. “Hey, look at me please”

I opened my eyes, and instead of seeing anger, I saw glitter in his eyes when he looked at me. I saw a whole universe waiting for me to discover it, a whole universe who wants me to come and look around it.

“Here is my pretty boy. I think that the alcohol messed up your big brain and you forgot one crucial part”

Lukes face came closer to mine, his lips barely brushing mine.

“You forgot when i said i loved you back”

My breath stopped once again, and I tried to look at him to find any clues to figure out if he was lying. It can't be true, it can't be that a man like Luke Alvez will be interested with some damaged goods like me?

But his eyes were closed, and even though I couldn't see them, I could feel all the love that his touch held, I could feel his heart beating in sync with mine.

“Now if your confession was a drunken mistake and you don't really love me, then I will go and we can forget that this night ever happened. But since I know this is the first night you slept without any nightmares in a while, I feel like you still want me close. Am I right?”

I was still stuck. How can I answer this question? How do I know I'm not dreaming still and in a moment I will wake up in some small hotel room in the middle of nowhere? But even worse, how can I let this man love me, when everything I touch turns into dust? I ruin everything I love, and I can't let that happen to him. “Spencer”

His voice took me out of my reverie and I looked into his eyes, where his pupils were blown wide with love? Lust? I'm not really sure.

“Can you please answer me? I would like to kiss you now”

All I could do was smile and nod, and let myself be embraced by the soft lips of his. I found myself hoping we hadn't kissed when I was drunk because I want to remember every time I get to taste his lips. I want to remember every moment he consumes me with his presence, I want to feel every time he graces me with his touch. I want to belong to him forever and I want this kiss to never end. But even when my Luke ended the kiss, it was only so he could tell me the sweetest words I've ever heard anyone say. “I love you spencer. I can't wait to spend forever with you”

tell me what you think here!

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Five

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Language, Kinda Slow Burn, Fluff, Injuries, Kinda Angst

Word Count: 2.7K

A/n: Happy New Year to all you beautiful people. I’m writing this and I’m feeling pretty happy right now but I’m also feeling very drained because I’m working so much and there's shit going on, BUT I wanted to post this because it’s been long awaited. It’s shorter because it’s a rare (Kinda) fluffy chapter and It ends off on a good place to have me starting the next part openly. My brain is mush rn so Idk if this is even making sense.

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

~*~

“I need to know exactly what you did to her. She is in there, in pain and agony and you stand here acting as though you are the one who had to endure the hardships.”

James grinds his teeth together, wishing his reunion with his beloved was going better.

“I... I was harsh with her. I told her she would never replace you... that her only purpose was to give me an heir and that she could be easily replaced. She... she angered me and I struck her... I have forced myself upon her in my anger and my haste to consummate the marriage. I know I am wrong for all I have done but I am doing everything in my power to right my wrongs.”

He doesn’t see it coming, only realizes it when his nose crunches beneath Steve's fist.

“You are a coward! A King would not behave like that even if he had lost his entire kingdom! You have treated our wife as though she is a prisoner! And I say our wife because in title that is what she is. However, she is my wife in my heart as well. But anyone can see that she is not your wife in yours. The way you have treated her... you should not be allowed near her.”

He strikes his husband again, his knuckles knocking the side of his cheek as the brunet dodges swiftly.

“I know. I understand that what I have done is wrong but-” “No, James, I don’t think you do! She is terrified of you! She’d sooner seek comfort in me, a stranger, than in you. You are the first face of our kingdom that she met and you...” The blond trails off, beyond furious with his husband.

“You have broken that woman. What can you even say for yourself?”

The brunet backs up a step, his hands raised in surrender as Steve steps closer to him, his hands clenching into fists.

“Nothing will excuse my actions and I realize that. But I will not stop trying to fix the damage I have caused.” 

Steve scoffs, shaking his head at the other man.

“I’m not sure if you will be able to fix it.” They’re both quiet for a long moment before Steve speaks again, walking past his husband and towards the door.

“I think it would be best if you gave both (Y/n) and myself some space. Do not come to either of us unless we have directly summoned you.” The brunet nods, shoulders slumping in defeat.

Steve has to focus on his breathing as he walks back to your chambers, wanting to be there when you wake up and wanting to be in a better space as to not scare you.

When the door opens you’re awake, seated on your bed nursing a small cup of tea.

“How are you feeling?” He asks softly, dismissing Wanda with a nod. You take a deep breath and smile weakly at him.

“Better than yesterday, Your Majesty.” 

A shake of his head at the use of his title.

“Please, (Y/n). You’re my wife. You may address me by my name,” he says while stepping further into the room. 

“Steve,” you test the name, surprised at yourself for liking the way it feels rolling off your tongue.

He smiles warmly at you, sitting at the edge of your bed when you motion to it. You take a moment to really take him in as he sits in front of you.

The second King of Acadia is as gorgeous as his husband. He’s got endless blue eyes that shine with kindness, a kindness that has been shown to you only by Natalia and Wanda since you entered the Kingdom.

His frame is large and muscular, and you find yourself entranced and intimidated by him. Your brows furrow, however, when you see his split knuckles.

“You are hurt?” You ask, looking pointedly at his right hand. He instinctively clenches it into a fist then sighs, shaking his head.

“I’m afraid I let my emotions get the better of me when I learned of what His Majesty did to you.” You frown, looking down at the porcelain cup in your grasp.

Fragile and delicate, just like you.

“My very presence drives a wedge between the two of you. For that, I am sorry.” He shakes his head, fingers coming under your chin and lifting it until you look at him. The way you flinch when he raises his hand has his heart aching.

“It is not you who has created a wedge, nor is it you who drives it between us. James is well aware of his actions and he must face the consequences. He does not get special treatment because he is King. He’s lucky I only struck him for what he’s done to you. He deserves far worse.” You shake your head, grabbing the King’s hand tightly in yours.

“Please do not punish him. I fear he may think his fears are coming true. I do not wish to replace you nor do I wish to replace him. And by punishing him more I fear he may think that that is what is happening.”

Steve’s brows pull together in confusion.

“Do you not wish for him to feel what it is you’ve felt?” You shake your head, a shaky breath leaving you as you choose your words wisely.

“I... I would not wish my treatment upon anyone. But he has made efforts to repair our relationship. I do not wish to anger him with a relationship with you. I fear that us being close may be enough to bring his anger back to the surface.”

Steve is quiet, pondering your words for a long moment before lifting your entwined hands and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“If he makes one hostile move towards you I will have him thrown in the dungeon. He will not bring you any more pain. I give you my word.” You nod slowly, not used to someone being so protective of you.

“Now I’m sure you need your rest, so I will not deprive you of it any longer.” He goes to stand up but you tug on his hand, not wanting him to leave just yet. His presence is refreshing. Something unlike anything you’ve experienced in years. And you do not want him to leave anytime soon.

“C-could you perhaps stay with me for a while longer? I... I value your presence. I know that I have only just met you, but you... you are a comfort in a kingdom that has brought only pain.” You don’t mean for your words to hurt him, and the sadness on his face nearly makes you regret speaking.

Until he settles back on the bed, a smile on his face as he squeezes your hand gently in both of his.

“I will stay with you until you no longer want me. This place should be a home to you, not a place of pain, and I will do all I can to ensure you feel safe and comfortable in your own Kingdom.”

The new approach has hope sparking in your belly, and you’re cautiously optimistic about your relationship with Steve. You only hope that you’ll be able to repair the one you have with James before he gets angry again.

~*~

“Is she eating?” Wanda nods, smiling at the blond king from her spot in the kitchen.

“Good. She looks ill. I want her to be healthy again. It is my goal to have her happy in her new home. Undo the damage that James caused.” Wanda sighs, shaking her head.

“They were rebuilding their relationship. Slowly but I’m sure they will have grown to love each other,” she says softly, and then it’s Steve’s turn to shake his head at her.

“It would be nothing more than love built on lies and fear. She deserves more than that.” Wanda nods, her heart heavy. She knows you haven’t been treated fairly, but she had hoped you and James would be able to build your relationship.

“Will you forgive His Majesty?” Steve sighs, not truly knowing the answer.

“I want to, but with what he did... it feels wrong to forgive him.” Wanda nods knowingly, gathering things for your lunch.

“Well, I know that the Queen is well on her way to forgiving him. I think it would do you well to forgive him. However, I have already overstepped. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go tend to my lady.”

She pauses at the doorway, looking over at the King and speaking freely for a moment. 

“I think you would do well to speak to the King with a cool head. Consider all that has happened and all that you had planned for your marriage.” She bows her head then leaves the kitchen, having given Steve many things to consider.

He stays in the room for a while longer, gathering his thoughts and trying to figure out what to do.

As he’s leaving, he nearly bumps straight into his husband.

James averts his eyes, although it pains him to do so. He wants nothing more than to devour every inch of the man before him.

He says nothing, instead, bows his head and waits for Steve to do something.

“James.” His eyes snap up, meeting the endless blues of his lover.

“Steve. H-How is she?” Steve grinds his teeth for a moment, Wanda’s words echoing in his mind before he huffs out a deep breath.

“If you would like, I will take you to see her. However, if she requests you leave, you will leave immediately. Do you understand?” James nods, his shoulders lifting slightly.

As they walk towards your chambers Steve takes a moment to take in the appearance of the brunet.

He’s got deep bags under his eyes and a heeling bruise on his cheek branching out across the bridge of his nose.

His skin is pale and almost lifeless, and Steve feels and for a moment. Until he remembers what his husband did to you.

By then they’re already at your door, far too late to turn back, and Steve knocks softly.

“My darling? May I come in?”

Your voice calls out eagerly, allowing him entrance.

In the few days since his return, he’s spent every waking moment with you, and you find yourself missing him in the few moment’s that he is not by your bedside.

He smiles at the sight of you. You’re far livelier than before, a smile on your face as he walks in.

“Good afternoon,” you say softly, your smile fading slightly as you see the man behind him.

“Your Majesty,” you greet him, bowing your head slightly.

“He is your husband, (Y/n). You may address him by his name. We would prefer it if you did.” You look between the two before nodding slowly, scooting back on your bed to make room for the two of them. 

Wanda smiles warmly at you, handing you a fresh cup of tea before excusing herself.

“May we sit?” James asks softly, motioning to your bed. You nod, taking a slow sip of tea while not taking your eyes off of the two men.

“You look well. You are eating more?” You nod, smiling at James softly.

“The same cannot be said for you,” You whisper, frowning at the bruises on his face.

“It is nothing that I do not deserve. I deserve far worse for all I have done. It is only my hope that we can grow together.” You’ve got a sad smile on your face as you look between the two of them, the tension rolling off of them in waves.

“What is it, darling?” Steve asks softly, reaching out to take your hand. You squeeze his warm hand then sigh, struggling for a moment to find the words.

“I have created a wedge between you. That is not something I ever wanted. I never wanted to come between you, nor have I ever wanted to replace either of you. I... I apologize for all that my presence here has caused.”

They both shake their heads, eyes meeting momentarily, Steve's filled with accusation while James’ are filled with guilt.

“You have done nothing wrong. That is something I want you to fully grasp.” You look at James as he speaks, heart thumping in your chest.

It’s been a while since you’ve had him so close to you and you’re not sure how you feel about it.

“Everything that has happened... it is all my doing. You have not done anything wrong. I am the one who has created a wedge between us... the one who has caused such distance. And I will spend every day trying to make up for that. I know you may not trust me or what I say, but I mean every word that I have spoken today.” You look between him and Steve, bottom lip tucked between your teeth for a moment.

“I want to trust you. I want us to be happy and I want us to have a good marriage, however, I will need time. But I do not want the two of you to be at ends with each other because of me. I fear it will cause far more conflict than it is worth.” Steve looks at you for an impossibly long moment before nodding, looking over his shoulder at where his husband is.

“I do not know how you have forgiven him, but I suppose I will try as well. We will forgive, but we will not forget.”

James nods, wanting to feel relieved but something is gnawing at his stomach.

“Your forgiveness is far more than I deserve. I will not, for as long as I live, be able to ever forgive myself for what I have done to you. The pain I have caused.” His eyes flitter down to your stomach, now devoid of the life that was growing. Devoid of the child that would’ve been his. A child that would’ve been the product of pain and of torment.

“How are you feeling, truly? I can only imagine the pain.”

You follow his gaze down to your stomach then swallow hard.

“If I may be honest with you... a small part of me is sad... but a larger part is relieved. I know it is wrong and horrid of me to think, but I am grateful to not be carrying a child that was forced upon me. It is my duty as Queen to give you heirs, and I shall. But not like that. It is too bold of me and I apologize, but if we are to make this marriage work then it is something that you must know.”

He nods easily, understanding what you mean.

“This marriage... we chose you, (Y/n). Specifically you,” Steve says softly, waiting for you to look up at him before speaking.

“We could’ve chosen any woman.” 

Upon seeing the frown on your face, James jumps in. “When he says that, he means that we had been offered wives before but none of them stood out to us. And then we were presented with you...” You look at him, confusion bringing your brows together.

“The princess of Orlen. A woman with kindness and beauty. From the way your father spoke of you, we chose you. If only to save you from a fate that he promised.”

You’re not sure how you feel about this.

“We spoke of you for weeks on end. We spoke of how we would love you, how we would treat you. How we would bed you...” A shiver races down your spine and you glance down, shaking your head.

“I-I do not think I will be ready for that for quite a while. I am sorry, but I just... I cannot. I can hardly walk without being in pain and Doctor Banner thinks that it may take weeks before I can do anything such as that.” Steve’s hand is on your back, rubbing soothing circles.

“We will wait. Your body has gone through something that neither one of us could ever imagine. We will not be angry with your healing process and we will not rush it. It is as I said before, your health and happiness mean everything to me.”

James nods his agreement but can’t help feeling left out of the tender moment being shared. As much as he may try, he knows he will not be welcomed with open arms. And he doesn’t expect to be. However, it doesn’t lessen the pain. If anything, it amplifies it.

Jealousy and anger simmer deep in his core, and he has to take careful breaths to make sure he doesn’t let them show. The last thing he needs is to scare you further. And although he truly does wish to be on good terms with you, seeing you with his husband the way you are... it brings something monstrous to the front of his mind.

Something he’s only ever taken out on the battlefield.

The good part if him is afraid for your safety if he cannot reel in the beast. But the beast roars beneath the surface, ready to claw its way out and reclaim what is his.

[theladyismyshepard]

2 of prompt hope? The brunette Cassandra has a maiden for a pet for now, But another maiden is in love with her?? inspired by robyn dancing on my own. Angst? Good ending or however you end it?

I love that song 😍 I totally got you, my friend, thank you for the prompt!

Warning: sex, blood, violence, honestly, 18+ only

So Far Away, But Still So Near

There were three things that were common knowledge to those who lasted more than a few weeks as a maid within Castle Dimitrescu (there weren’t many familiar faces however).

One was that the hallways of the castle echoed with the wails of the dying, and it was to be none of their business to be snooping into... There was a maid who panicked when she heard screaming for the first time, and it wasn’t moments later that hers mixed melodically with the next.

Second, a maid is not allowed to make a single mistake in their duties, or in the presence of the Dimitrescu family. The maid who made the mistake of opening up the curtains a mere peek was dragged down to the cellar, never to be seen again.

And lastly... you were the only maiden allowed to live a trapped life above the cellar where men and young women stuttered out their last breathes before becoming a constant drip that always sent you to your initial awakening inside a cage that was seeping blood from every corner.

When you had blinked slowly, allowing your eyes time to adjust to lantern light, you caught sight of a smile so twisted, you couldn’t say for sure it wasn’t a frown. There was blood that painted those lips, red and shining in the dancing light. Golden eyes glowed as they bore into you with such intensity, you thought for sure she would eat you alive.

Brown hair cascaded down to her chest, and it was wild and untamed. If she looked as unkempt as she was, you briefly wondered how bad your appearance must look, subconsciously reaching up to run your fingers through greasy locks of hair, grimacing when they snagged on a tangle.

You became acutely aware that your clothes had been changed for you. Gone were your regular clothes, and in their place was nothing more than a silk nightgown, even your underwear had been stolen right off your body. You felt exposed under her gaze.

“You smell irresistible,” she whispered, her fingers tight around the bars of your cage.

Fear plagued you, prompting your heart to stutter in your chest. It brought a laugh from the brunette, and a shiver went through you that you couldn’t fully comprehend. Her eyes narrowed as she slowly smirked, teeth on display. Some looked sharp enough to kill... the teeth of a predator.

“You’re quite a beauty, aren’t you?” she drawled lecherously, her eyes roaming your nearly exposed body.

“Have you seen yourself?” you went for flattery at this point, and you knew you chose the right route when her face went slack for a moment before bursting out into a laugh.

“And a charmer, too?”

The door to your cage opened, her eyes never leaving you. She slowly swayed her hips alluringly with every step she took towards you, her smirk unwavering. She had you cornered and fearful as she stood over you, a sickle in hand. What was she planning to do?

You felt a sharp stinging as you felt your flesh tear suddenly. The cool touch of metal pressed against the cut on your lower thigh, and you grimaced when you felt grime dig into your skin. Blood coated the blade of her sickle, and she withdrew before bringing it to her mouth. Her tongue flicked out, and she slowly dragged her tongue along the length of the blade, her eyes staring into yours.

“By far my favorite delicacy,” she moaned, her eyes darkening to nearly black.

You had felt something stirring in the pit of your stomach as warmth flooded your core at the sound that came from her mouth. She sniffed audibly, an eyebrow arched in interest at your reaction.

“My, oh my, you continue to intrigue me.” she turned her chin up, examining you in a way that felt as though she were looking down on you. “Here you are, trapped alone in blood and darkness and yet... I can smell your need.”

You felt a streak of defiance rush through your chest, but you bit your tongue, knowing you’d lose the war trying to win a battle. She had complimented you in a couple ways, but what she hasn’t shown appreciation for was your brain and wits.

“You intrigue me as well.” you admitted, confused by it.

The brunette chuckled wickedly, almost entertained, and you supposed it was in your favor to be capable of entertaining her. When her shoulders had stopped shaking and she ogled you once again, you hoped the gleam in her eye was a good thing.

“My name is Cassandra... I will give you time... and I will show you why that is a very bad idea.”

You blinked the memory away as you always did. That was nearly a year ago, and you would stride every day to prove your worth within the castle, knowing your virginity tethered you to a life of uncertainty as you lived among those who preyed on innocence.

To this day, you still didn’t know what kept you alive and working as a maid for the Dimitrescu family. You could tell Cassandra’s sisters weren’t overly thrilled with having something so tempting wandering within the walls, just within reach, and being unable to defile... What had you the most unsure was the tension between Cassandra and her gigantic mother.

Lady Dimitrescu would always inhale deeply when you leaned in to pour their wine during dinner. What keeps me alive? You couldn’t answer, and you weren’t sure who could. You had originally thought it was Cassandra’s influence and interest in you seeing as she had helped you out of the cellar, but she hardly looked at you when you waited on their every want and need.

The only thing you could say for her was that she didn’t snap at you like she violently did with the other maids, or even with her own sisters when one was pushed too far. She never said please or thank you, but her requests weren’t as sharp as they could be, which were few and far between.

What really had you thinking you were going crazy was the day you stood perfectly still by the far wall along with a couple other maids, unseen but at the ready should the family have a demand, and you heard Cassandra announce that she had a new pet in the cellar. The wild giggles from her sisters and the smirk from Alcina had a spring coiling tightly in your gut, and you could’ve sworn you were familiarized with the white-hot anger surging through your chest.

You couldn’t comprehend why you felt so flustered over Cassandra having someone else holding her attention. You could hardly call it “making you feel special”, but you could’ve sworn there was something about you that got you farther than most maidens who were unfortunate enough to find themselves trapped within the castle.

Your hand balled into a fist and you were subconsciously wearing a deep frown. You also didn’t catch the way multicolored eyes caught the look you were sporting or the triumphant smirk that followed. All you could do was stare at your feet and hope you didn’t bring attention to yourself, that’s all any of the maids did.

“Do not neglect your pet for too long, Cassandra.” said Alcina, dabbing her chin before she arose from the table.

“I’m going, mother,” promised Cassandra, bowing her head.

You watched as the Lady seemed to escort the entire room out of the dining area. Bela silently trailed behind her mother, hardly sparing any of the servants a glance on her way out. Daniela was still nibbling on a piece of something that you did not want to think about. Her eye met yours and she smiled toothily.

“Bye bye,” she said in a sing-song voice.

You shivered and she laughed as she walked out, and that only left Cassandra. She seemed to hypnotically sway her hips with each step she took as she followed her family. Your slight daze was broken by her throaty chuckle, and you already know you’ve been caught staring.

“Another time,” came her velvety voice, and you cursed your body for reacting before your brain could. Your eyes were glued to her ass the entire time she left.

It was quite pitiful really, how she could turn you to mush with words alone, all while her chin dribbled with blood from her fresh meal; and after she just spoke of her new plaything no less. What the fuck is wrong with me? What made it worse was that Cassandra was well aware of that fact.

What had you knowing you had gone crazy was when you couldn’t help the hatred you felt towards Cassandra’s new pet that seemed to be lingering around... since when did you start referring to living as lingering?

The pet always trailed after Cassandra, clinging to her side as if she were salvation. You remember a point in time where you thought she was your salvation. You passed them in the halls together, she was seated at Cassandra’s feet during “tea time” with the family, you could hear her moaning when you would passed by Cassandra’s room.

The wide, fearful eyes of the poor, young woman made you sick when they landed on you pleadingly. Oh how you wished to be in her place and yet here she was, afraid. You felt nothing over the tears that fell from her cheeks and landed on the bruises littering her bare thighs.

You felt like a monster.

Like what everything that could make you human had been burned away with hatred and negativity and darkness. It left you a hollow shell as you lost all sense of who you used to be. You felt chewed up and spit out and forced to work with what you had left.

Why were you still alive?

It was the same question bouncing in your head every day, yet you were no closer to finding the answer now, than you were the day before. At what point do you just give up? At what point do you just accept the desolate feeling gripping you until your final breath? Would death actually be a blessing over the lack of existence in Castle Dimitrescu?

That was the real question you had unfortunately began to live by. Your perfect touch to every duty assigned to you was slacking. It was imperceptible at first to all except Cassandra, but she bit her tongue, instead, choosing to keep her eyes glued to you every time you were in close proximity.

Your change in character went unnoticed until it became very obvious. Your rapid response became slower, almost outwardly showing how much you didn’t care to be there. Your attention to detail slipped as well as you started forgetting little things here and there during your duties.

Your steadiness shook when you served them, and wouldn’t you know it, your hand finally slipped one evening when you were pouring crimson tea into Daniela’s cup. The stream hit the lip of the cup and dripped onto her robe. You barely had time to register the shriek before something sharp slashed across your face, sending you to the floor.

All you could focus on was the stinging along your cheek and the bridge of your nose. You didn’t hear four different long inhales. You didn’t hear growling. You certainly didn’t hear Cassandra jerking Daniela’s arm until she faced her and the reverberating slap that followed.

“Never touch what isn’t yours!”

You did hear that shriek, and it had you finally looking up, taking in the scene. Blood was smeared all across your palm, and it was still flowing freely down your face, into your mouth, down your chin... You felt like you were served right on a platter for them.

You just felt a small sense of relief that Lady Dimitrescu’s narrowed eyes weren’t directed at you. They were mere slits and the frown lines showed her clear distaste. Her gaze was settled on Cassandra towering over Daniela’s shocked, still-seated form. Then the Lady’s gaze shifted to Cassandra’s pet, cowering away and watching the display with fright and confusion. It wasn’t long before her eyes were glued on you, leaving you glued to the floor.

“Cassandra,” her voice was eerily calm, but anyone with the sense of hearing could detect the cold fury hidden away. “You are only allowed one.”

Your eyes cut to Cassandra in time to see the dark rage swirling in hers, and you could see how feral she was becoming. You knew she was passed the point of rationality, there was no clear and coherent thought in her head... things were about to get sloppy and you were very afraid.

So afraid that it didn’t make a lick of sense when Cassandra took her silverware and lodged it straight into her pet’s chest. The sight of the young woman gurgling and choking on her own blood had you ensnared. You couldn’t look away, your eyes wide and unblinking in shock as she slumped and gasped and cried. You didn’t even feel the ones spilling down your cheeks.

“Do not ever touch my pet again.” warned Cassandra, hissing straight at her sister before turning to you. “Come... now!”

You scrambled, forcing your paralyzed joints to move. She was already stalking out of the room, dragging you by your wrist once you were on your feet. You apologized every time you tripped or stumbled, but silenced yourself when she snapped after the fifth time.

You weren’t sure what to feel after watching her kill her pet right in front of you. Cassandra was callous and a flat out sadist, she enjoyed working the screams from her victims, but she was acting purely deranged now. You wanted to ask where she was taking you, but common sense was telling you it was to her bedroom.

And you didn’t have time to catch up mentally before you were pulled through the doorway of her room and slammed against the door when she closed it. Cassandra’s tongue was immediately drawing a line from your chin all the way up to your forehead, cleaning a trail of blood and then some, leaving you a quivering mess.

She was moaning as she buried her face in your neck, her fangs piercing into your flesh. You yelped, your body jolting back against the door. She giggled madly, and it was your turn to moan out.

“Such a delicacy,” she whispered out before switching sides and biting into the other side.

You couldn’t help but shout again, even though you were prepared for it.

“Don’t worry, beautiful, I’m just making sure they all know who is allowed to touch you.”

She returned to suckling greedily at your blood, but her hand was trailing up your shirt until she roughly cupped your breast, her thumb rubbing small circles around your nipple. You squirmed against the door, but gasped when she scooped you up and dropped you onto her bed, her eyes alight.

“You are only allowed to follow my orders now, you will not tend to my sisters any further.” demanded Cassandra, straddling your thighs and literally tearing the maid’s uniform from your body.

“Command me, Mistress,” you moaned out, finally allowing yourself to get into what was happening, and you were rewarded for your comment by lips crashing into yours, a tongue immediately forcing its way into your mouth.

One hand returned to massaging your breast, and her mouth placed open mouthed kisses along your throat and collarbone before finally reaching your nipple, where she latched on.

You gasped, your head throwing back and your eyes slamming closed as her tongue swirled around the pink bud, sucking as roughly as she did when she fed from you. You’ve been deprived for so long that all you could do was squirm as warmth spread through your gut and dripped slickly down your thigh.

Her other hand grew tired of kneading your other nipple, and found itself teasing down your pubic bone before rubbing the same circles her tongue was drawing around your nipple with her fingers around your clit.

“Cassandra!” You groaned, your hands in her hair, keeping her where she was.

She bit down, and if she drew blood, it was licked away before you could tell. The fingers that were rubbing you were soon dipping inside, your wetness aiding her in sliding in. It was driving you crazy with sensory overload, and your hands flew to the bedsheets, gripping them tightly in your fists.

She hooked your leg around her hip to make it easier to thrust her fingers deeper inside of you. Your breath stuttered in your chest as pressure built inside of you. It started in the pit of your stomach, but warmth was spreading all throughout your body now, and she gave a few final pumps, you were coming around her, calling out her name as your body tightened and released.

She didn’t have time to let you recover before she was climbing up your body, settling herself comfortably on your face. You happily went to work on her, your tongue lashing out and licking along her clit. You didn’t give yourself time to relish in her moans before you buried your tongue deep inside of her, altering between flattening it and flicking it hard along her walls.

You felt her trembling around your tongue and it had you feeling deeply satisfied. Cassandra panted as one hand gripped the headboard, using it to help her ride your face, the other was woven into your hair, keeping you in place as well.

For all the moans you pulled from her, she came silently down your chin before sliding off, falling back onto her side beside you, head propped up on her hand, staring down at you. Now she was relishing in watching you recover from your activities. As you came down from your high, you couldn’t help but ask the burning question.

“Why am I still alive?”

She blinked down at you, clearly not expecting that question, but she wasn’t snapping at you so you were good. She took on a thoughtful look before she smirked down at you, crawling back on top of you.

“You are still intrigued by me and fortunately for you, I am still intrigued by you.” She said in between kisses down your body.

She paused when she hovered over where you needed her most.

“I’ll warn you though... I lose interest fast.”

And continued to show just how interested she was in the now. Lucky you.

[sxfik]

push and pull

part I | part II

read on ao3 • main masterlist • law school masterlist

summary: during a trial, a lawyer must be ready for anything. they should be able to navigate their way through any sudden obstacles or arguments. but through her time at law school, this is the first time her opponent has used kisses as an argument strategy.

or: joon hwi decides it's time to test how far kang sol's concentration can last. you know, to prepare her for the trial. no other reason.

a/n: aaa this was supposed to be peace is not known to man pt. 2 but i just had to write this today, i could not get the scene out of my head. after this will be peace is not known to man chapter 2 because ✨✨ and then a prompt request that was sent in ! this might be shorter than normal but i did leave room for a possible sequel? anyways, i hope you enjoy this <3

Throughout Kang Sol A's time in rigorous classes and with strict professors, there was one thing that was drilled through her head: be prepared for any argument. As she progressed through the ranks, it was clear that students, as well as prosecutors and lawyers, will use anything and everything at their disposal in order to win. Even if it is the lowest or morally dubious argument, if it wins them the case, they will not be afraid to use it.

Kang Sol was never the brightest student in class. She struggled to pick up the concepts as quickly as her peers; she racked her brain every time she needed to name a criminal code from memory. But if there was anything she was good at, it was preparation.

Her biggest mistake her first semester was not having a battle plan and through the minefield that was fighting against Assemblyman Ko, she felt like she was constantly rushed and underprepared. After her 1L, Kang sol took the time every day to make sure she was prepared for anything that would be an obstacle for her. She's always in class with the needed materials already printed out, her course materials pre-read and she takes extensive notes during her lectures, making sure to get even the smallest details. She wrote down anything that could make the exam easier for her. So, during study groups, she was the go-to person for notes and specifics, despite joon hwi, sol B and ji ho's innate abilities to memorize and grasp the concepts. Her contribution was her thoroughness as well as her tenacity. And maybe, that was what made her so essential to her mock trial team.

The annual justice mock trial was just around the corner, and Sol was not going to be underprepared like last time. Joon hwi, Sol B and she poured over their case files, writing their main argument, rebuttal and summary until they were near perfect. For weeks, they'd spent in the library, reading and researching everything they would possibly need during the trial so they could make their main argument as bulletproof as possible. The three of them were going to win this trial, no matter what they had to do.

That preparedness was what found Sol in her current situation, standing in the empty mock trial courtroom, standing at the defendant's side of the table while Joon Hwi had stood across from her, looking over the prosecutor's argument. Her sense of morality was her biggest blessing and her biggest obstacle in Law School. Her belief in right and wrong, and the proper use of the law, made it almost painful for her to argue the other side. But being the wonderful classmate he was, Joon hwi had offered to help her whenever he could, acting as the devil’s advocate.

Han Joon Hwi. Her beloved classmate and next to Ye-Seul, her best friend. He was there for it all: from defending Yangcrates to protecting her sister from Lee Man Ho to defeating Assemblyman Ko. As Kang sol was sinking from her past two semesters at Hanguk law school, he was the one who kept her afloat. Every night she spent at the library, on the verge of exhaustion, he would be there alongside her making sure she took breaks and took care of herself. Without him, she was sure she wouldn't have been able to pull her health up or make it through her first year.

Joon Hwi had always processed his feelings more inwardly, holding everything in and away from everyone as much as possible. During the worst of his grief last year, he would sneak out into the practice fields, running laps until he was exhausted and his breathing ragged. She picked up on what he was doing, when she saw him dip out of the library a little earlier than everyone else. She had snuck out to follow him and watched him as he would run across the fields, until he'd break into pieces on the field. For a boy who had seen her worst, who had helped everyone gain their strength to fight, it wasn't right that he suffered by himself.

So when she saw him declining into the familiar pain, when he was staring into the memorial of his uncle's donation, the man who had meant everything to him, who had died before he could repent for his sins against the law, she sat by him in silence, until he leaned onto her shoulder. If she could, if it was possible, she felt like absorbing all the pain, the regret and the anger he felt inside until he was alright.

She wasn't sure when the lines blurred between them, but her image of him shifted until she was sure he was so much more than a friend. It was as if he had a new tint of color over him, and suddenly, she found herself thinking of him all the time. Now, every time she'd laugh, she'd turn behind her to make sure he was laughing. For every little thing that happened in her life, he was the only one she craved to share it with. Every smile, every little happiness, she wanted to share it with him. Even if she wasn't feeling well, or doing anything exciting, she wanted his presence by her.

Kang Sol was always eloquent, her mind moving at 10 mph and her words even faster. She never ran out of things to say, not until she met him. With Joon Hwi, she had no way of expressing just how much she wanted him in her life, how much gratitude she had for him. He meant so much more than anything she could describe in words so she forced herself to be content with the bits and pieces she could keep in her life.

Kang Sol cleared her throat, gaining joon hwi's attention from the papers and across the room. "Let's get started?" she asked her, looking up from her papers, and up to him as he nodded.

“As the defendant…” he started, his voice echoing in the empty courtroom, voice firm and strong as he delivered the main argument. Watching joon hwi transform into his full prosecutor mode was startling to watch, his casual demeanor changing into confidence. He transformed into something else entirely, his demeanor intense and his voice sharp as a knife. Watching him concentrate and argue was magnetic and with every passing line, she felt pulled towards him. She could feel the nerves build as she watched him, his voice strong and powerful through the room.

He looked up at her, finishing his argument and it felt like the wind was knocked out of her. Sol wasn't sure if it was the fact that she had to present the argument next or if it was his darkened eyes staring into hers, the awareness spreading through her body, that made her forget how to breathe properly. For a moment, the silence enveloped them, the tension between them taut as a bowstring, despite being so far apart from each other.

"Sol?" His voice interrupted the moment as the pressure built in her chest and her throat stagnated. She cleared her throat again, shaking the gaze off her, before starting her argument. As her eyes and her voice followed the words on the paper, her body and mind were somewhere else entirely, every hair on her body aware of his growing presence, his eyes on her. For someone so hesitant to argue against the side she believed in, she was going strong until she made one grave mistake.

She looked up to him for a moment, and he was standing much closer to her now, his eyes molten as he looked up at her, standing in the middle of the courtroom, and her voice wavered to a stop. She didn’t know when Joon Hwi had moved closer, her body too obsessed with the fact that his eyes were on her to ever notice his movements.

He raised his eyebrow, the ghost of a smirk on his face. "Why are you stopping, Sol-ah?" he asked, his voice much deeper, heavy and sweet like honey. He stepped closer then, and she looked down to the papers in her hand, his gaze burning her with intensity.

She continued on with her argument, as he stepped closer and closer, until he was right in front of her place behind the defendant's desk. She looked up then, confident in herself not to waver as the words on her paper blurred together into mush. But her mind and her mouth was on autopilot, her voice growing smaller and smaller as she parroted the argument from memory, his proximity throwing her off. He moved closer then, leaning in until his face was just a breath away from her. His hands reached up to her face, pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. She felt her mind stutter and her stomach bundle into knots from him being so close that she could see his eyelashes brush against his cheek as he blinded. Her eyes were glued to him, pulled closer and closer, as he laid his finger at her throat, and traced down to the base of her neck.

She shuddered out a breath then, the feel of just a finger on her skin making her face grow warm and red. she struggled to think, to remember what she was doing before his fingers traced up, up, up, towards her jaw. His hands cupped her face, bringing it closer towards him, as his thumb brushed against her cheek.

"I think-" she paused, trying to catch her breath, "I think my argument ends there."

"You think?" he tilted his head slightly, his eyes taunting and teasing.

"Yes," she breathed out, leaning closer and closer, until her lips met his. His lips were firm and reassuring for a short moment, before she pulled away. But their distance didn't last even a second as she surged forward again, kissing him with everything she had. The papers in her hand dropped to the desk, forgotten, as her hands searched for him, finding purchase in his shirt as she pulled him closer.

His hands shifted then, kissing her deeper, as his hands went to untangle her hair from her ponytail, until her hair was loose around her shoulders. His hands tangled in her hair, pushing her closer to him as his tongue brushed against her lip and she gasped, the feel only accelerating the want, the need for him.

Her mind was foggy as he drew away from her lips and down to her jaw, his frantic kisses addicting as he moved down to her neck. Joon hwi tilted her head with the hand tangled in her hair, as he left open-mouthed kisses down her throat, ones that left her panting and gasping, his mouth bruising the delicate skin of her neck.

"Joon hwi-ah," she shuddered out, as he sucked, her breath coming out in soft puffs, a moan growing at the back of her throat.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The loud noise against the door shocked the two out of the moment, as a voice inquired "Is anyone in there?" The two jumped back then, still holding on to each other as Sol looked at Joon hwi, alarm taking over her body.

Annoyance flooded his features, as he looked towards the door, his lips swollen and red from her ministrations.  He was panting, as he looked back at her, his gaze was heavy on her, and for one charged moment, Kang Sol thought of throwing caution to the wind, to pull him back into her. But he stepped back then, away from her desk, and back to his to gather his files. Sol was glued to her feet then, her hands frozen and unable to process what just happened before her rational mind kicked in, and she rushed to gather her files. She ran her hand through her hair, noticing her disheveled state in the mirror, before gathering her hair into a bun and smoothening out her clothes, trying to put on a pretense that she was perfectly okay, it wasn’t like joon hwi had feverishly kissed her until her mind was completely blank or anything.

There was silence between the two as they exited the courtroom through the back entrance, making sure to leave the room as if nothing ever happened. But before they parted, Joon Hwi grabbed her hand, looking into her eyes for a moment as if to say this isn't over, before the parted ways, leaving Sol to process what went on between them, and how she could ask for more, more, more.

[letsgivethisonemoreshot]

Hot Sauce Inspiration

So, one day I was eating Taco Bell. And they have these little sayings on their hot sauce packets. I looked at one, and the phrase caused a little story to pop into my head and I texted it to a friend. Then another packet inspired another part. So I went to look at the rest and see if any others could spark anything in my weird brain, and here we are. The packets are bolded. This thirst trap was sponsored by Taco Bell. Practice safe eating. Use condiments.

Word Count: 1,797

Warnings: Language, mentions of sexual situations

You were known around the locker room for having a bit of an attitude. Not that you were a bully, but if there was something you wanted to say, most times you didn’t hold back where others would. Some would say you lacked a filter. Others would say you’re outspoken. You said that you just told the truth, and if people didn’t like that about you they could go screw themselves. It didn’t stop you from making friends, far from it. But it did rub some the wrong way.

You were currently in a hallway, still in your ring gear from your earlier match talking with Alexa Bliss. She was someone who you had gotten really close too. You had a lot in common which made you great travel buddies and had yet to get tired of spending so much time with each other. Somehow your conversation steered to making fun of Drew McIntyre. Again. He seemed to be one of your favorite people to rip on as of late. There was just something about him that got under your skin. Lately he had really become a leader in the locker room. Taking people under his wing, making sure they stayed out of trouble, helping them out. Which was great, but it never seemed to stop. He was the adult version of a goody two shoes and at times he kind of made you want to throw up. Not that you hid that. You’ve said it to people before. He’d probably even been around to hear it himself. He knew you talked about him. However, you weren’t aware that his match had finished, and he was now backstage, walking up behind you.

He startled you by clearing his throat behind you. You turned around to see him standing opening a water bottle as sweat dripped down his chest.

“You know it’s rude to interrupt people,” You shot at him. “What do you want?”

“You know it’s rude to talk about people behind their back,” He retorted, taking a swig of his water.

“Get lost McIntyre,” You rolled your eyes.

“Are ya sure you want me to lass?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean you do an awful lot of talking about someone you claim to not be fond of.”

Alexa, sensing the tension in the air, excused herself to go and “get ready for her match”, leaving the two alone. You scoffed.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“You know, if there’s something you want to talk to me about, I’m right here.”

You barely let him finish his sentence before you started speaking. “Nope. Not too fond of you. Don’t need you. You can go find someone else around here to go and “help out” and play the fatherly figure to. I don’t have daddy issues. I’m good.”

Drew chuckles, leaning in a bit closer to you . His voice now deeper, and in a much more serious tone than he usually used.

“You keep telling yourself that princess. But we both know I can have you begging and calling me Daddy by the end of the night.”

“In your dreams McIntyre,” You said pushing passed him before he was able to see how flushed your cheeks had gotten at his comment.

He smirked before drinking his water again. “We’ll see about that,” He said to himself as he watched you walk away.

You spent the rest of the night trying to avoid Drew. You didn’t want any further interaction with him. He may act nice, but he was just a big old brute trying to abuse his power. And you would rather die than admit seeing him all sweaty and acting in charge actually turned you on. Once the show was over, you wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. You were dressed and ready to go, standing by the back door with your suitcase waiting for Alexa. You weren’t completely alone though. The hustle and bustle of the crew members packing everything up and your co-workers were leaving and wandering around the area. You tapped your foot impatiently while looking through your phone waiting for your friend. You had tuned out all of the noise around you and hadn’t realized someone had walked up behind you. Only noticing when the wheels of their suitcase came to a stop. You could sense who it was without turning around. His presence shadowing over you. He wasn’t touching you. He didn’t say anything to you. He wasn’t even making any effort to actually tell you that he was there, other than being a little too close. Doing it purposely to annoy you.

“Can you back up a step or two McIntyre? You’re in my personal space,” You said without taking your eyes off of your phone.

He chuckled deeply. “Don’t kid yourself. You know you want me in your personal space.”

“Seriously, my perfume is rather expensive and I’d rather smell like it than whatever you had for dinner and are breathing on me.”

“What crawled up your ass today princess? You’re even more vile than usual.”

You sighed, trying to show disgust at the nickname he always chose to call you. Just the tone in how he said it gave you goosebumps. “Can you stop calling me that? I do have a name you know.”

“I think I see the problem,” He said, ignoring you as he leaned down closer so that no one else would be able to hear what he said. “It’s that no one has crawled up your ass in a while, isn’t it?”

Your eyes grew wide at his comment. Thankfully he couldn’t see that. You felt your cheeks getting warmed as you awkwardly shuffled from one foot to another. Drew had never come back at you like this before, and you couldn’t believe that he had said what he did with other people around.

“You are disgusting McIntyre. So much for being a gentleman,” You finally brought yourself to say.

“I’m a gentleman to those who deserve it. You princess, do not deserve it. You seem to like to aggravate me and bring the ungentlemanly side out of me.”

“Or maybe deep down you’re just a nasty guy who isn’t as nice as everyone thinks?” You suggest, trying to sound unphased even though your heart is beating so fast you can hear it in your ears.

Drew smirked behind you. “Whatever you need to tell yourself lass. But if you feel like not being such a bitch anymore and getting the attitude fucked out of you, a little birdie told me we were staying at the same hotel tonight. I’m in room 224. Don’t take too long. I won’t wait forever.”

You couldn’t stop fidgeting around in the car ride to the hotel. You hadn’t been paying any attention to what Alexa was saying. If she was even talking, she could have just been singing along with her music for all you knew. The only thing that was playing in your head was Drew’s sudden change of character towards you. You wanted to be so annoyed at him, walking around thinking he was God’s gift to the wrestling world and all women. The frustrating, stupid, sexy Scotsman.

No wait, you didn’t mean to think that.

Even when you got to the hotel room, you weren’t able to settle down. You couldn’t stay in one place. You’d wander around the room, looking out the window, going into the bathroom and sorting things. Eventually, Alexa asked you what was wrong knowing this wasn’t usual behavior for you.

“Nothing. I’m just restless,” You lied. I’ve spent three of the last four days scrunched inside a car. I just need some air. I think I’m gonna go out for a jog. I’ll try and shower quietly when I get back if you’re asleep.”

You grabbed your hotel key and walked towards the door.

“Okay, thanks. But I want details in the morning,” Alexa smiled as you reached the doorknob.

You didn’t reply to her before leaving the room. You couldn’t verbally admit that she was right about what she was insinuating. In face, you were already mentally yelling at yourself for even considering it. But that didn’t stop your legs from continuing to walk to the elevator. You were thankful the hallway was empty when you stepped off of the elevator. The last thing you wanted was anyone to see you. But you still hesitated once you got to his door, debating on turning around and going back to your own room. But after a moment, you knocked. It didn’t take long for Drew to open the door. Once he saw it was you, he smirked and leaned against the door frame.

“What brings you here princess? Couldn’t sleep?”

You were conflicted. You made it all the way down here. And now you would like for him to let you inside before someone can see you outside of his hotel room at 12:30 in the morning. But, at the same time, that would mean you were inside of Drew’s room. A thought that still made your stomach jump. Finally your mouth was able to speak up, throwing out one of your normal sarcastic replies.

“Are you man enough to help me out with my problem or not McIntyre?” You asked as you crossed your arms over your chest.

Drew dropped his head, slightly laughing before stepping aside and allowing you to enter the room. You walked in, holding your head high, hoping you were coming across as being confident. Because at the moment it felt like your bones were about to turn to jelly and you’d just melt into the floor. You still couldn’t believe that you were here. Because he brought it up. And some part of you thought it was a good idea.

You watched stoically as he shut and locked the door before turning around to you. He pulled his shirt off as he walked closer to you in the dimly lit room. If only he knew just how many times you had fallen asleep at night to this scenario playing in your head. He stopped in front of you. You looked up into his eyes and saw them turn to an icy blue. The energy about him had changed. He wasn’t the charming goofball he usually was. And it was turning all of your bad energy to mush.

“Just so you know, I don’t plan on being gentle with you princess. I’m going to play with you until you break and finally learn some manners, understand? If that’s not something you’re up for, the door is right there. I suggest you use it now.”

For the first time, you spoke to him in a shaky whisper, “I’m okay with that”.

[amphxtrite]

fred weasley x fem!reader

This is for @feetoffthetable ‘s 500 follower writing challenge. Congratulations again on 500!!

hope you like it.

prompts:

“What happened to their happily ever after?”

“Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just once upon a time.”

warnings: angst, spelling/ grammar mistakes.

word count: 3.1k

tag list: @cupidpoison @marvelhoesworld @wonderful-writer

enjoy<3

__________________________________________

Almost every girl can remember the days where they’d dream of their fairytale romance. Dancing, a prince charming and a kiss in the moonlight as every problem faded away; A thrilling fight between the lovers and the evil villain ending with the two wrapped in each other’s arms. Despite being muggle tales, the wizarding world had also grown to adore these stories, smiles widening on even grown witches' faces with each ‘once upon a time.’

You’d grown up reading about maidens being swept off their feet into the arms of their knight in shining armor, fate seemed to encompass every story you laid your eyes on, so when Fred Weasley entered your life, with a charming smile and a playfulness that had you wanting more, you couldn’t help but fall.

And so began the pining. Stares across the classroom at the wave of red hair, crossing your fingers when group projects were announced, peeking down corridors to see if you could catch the prankster twins in action, and daydreaming from dawn till dusk. You could barely get words past your lips if he ever smiled in your direction. You found yourself wondering what it would feel like to run your hand through his hair. Doodling his name on parchment became common, and dreams of dancing with him plagued your mind. You were young, and in love. You could almost feel your fairy godmother pushing you towards him, fairy tale magic coursing through your veins whenever your eyes would meet.

It took a couple years, but you found your voice. Starting small with congratulations after quidditch games, an occasional joke during classes, a couple more smiles here and there.

The unrequited love, became returned. Fred Weasley thought you were just the shy girl from his transfiguration class, quiet and meek. When you built up the confidence to strike up conversations and joke about Snape’s hair, he found himself hanging onto your every word.

The older twin went from not knowing your name to looking forward to even his most boring classes just to catch a glimpse of your face. Making you smile became his mission, and Godric did he love it when your face would completely light up. Not just a small smirk, but when your eyes sparkle, your lips pull up far enough to see your teeth and your cheeks go a bit pink, that was most definitely his favourite sight.

Even the most enchanting storybook couples would stare amazed at the adoration Fred Weasley and Y/n L/n shared for each other. Two best friends pining for the other without realizing the mutual warmth that had grown. Spending countless hours together, hiding their flushed cheeks, sweaty palms and loving eyes to enjoy every moment spent together.

When the Yule ball was announced Fred had fallen flat on his face running up to ask you. He’d spotted you in the clock tower courtyard with one of your friends and he knew immediately, you were the only person he’d want to go with. He sprinted up to you intending to drop to his knee and ask, but his foot got caught in the stone and he fell for you the second time. Now any other person may have lost hope and ran away, but Fred Weasley was determined to make the most of it, rebounding it with a cheesy pick up line, In true Fred fashion.

Cinderella would’ve glared in jealousy when the two of you waltzed across the dance floor. Not only was the night magical, but it was awkward, nervous, and fun. It didn’t seem like the far fetched dance at the end of a film, it felt real. You’d step on his toes and he’d shuffle his hand around your waist, but when it came down to it, you didn’t care. You really did feel like a princess dancing in the arms of her lover, swaying to the beautiful music as other students starred in awe at the two gryffindors gliding around the room, laughing happily while moving their feet in a mesmerizing waltz.

That night Fred Weasley finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he got down on his knee in the middle of the dance floor, pouring his heart out to you, his confession wiping even the soliloquies of Romeo Montague out of the water.

“Y/n, from the moment you started to talk to me in our third year, I fell. You make me smile, laugh, blush and always know how to cheer me up. Honestly, why didn’t you start talking to me sooner? I never knew how much I needed you, but my eyes have been cleared, my feelings in tune and now I’m asking you on the dance floor to maybe take this foolish man to be your prince?”

Droplets emerged from your eyes as you shook your head up and down, happy tears flowing free as you pulled the red-head up again.

The entire student body had paused to take in the scene before them, watching in surprise as Fred Weasley stood to his feet to dip the girl with tear stained cheeks into a low kiss, only standing again to catch his breath before stealing you away out the door.

You’d give anything to go back to that night. The seed of young adoration finally blossoming into a flower of love. Love so true, beautiful and pure you’d probably blind anyone who saw. You ran through the halls to Black Lake, dancing to the beats of your hearts in the embrace of your love, swaying in the moonlight as puzzle pieces of your life finally seemed to fall into place and stars aligned.

Holding your love in your arms is a feeling so surreal and fantastic, something that has an addicting property that you couldn’t help but crave. When Fred’s arms surrounded you, you didn’t feel trapped, enclosed, barricaded. You felt free, as though you could fly.

It is hard to define love, but what was between the redhead prankster and gryffindor dreamer painted a clear picture for anyone to see. Love opens the best in us, it reveals pieces of us never seen before and unlocks emotions never known. Fred grew more in love with you with each passing day and his desire to see the smile upon your face never faded.

Your love for your prince charming was something that would never be taken away from you. Everyday took your breath away and every time Fred smiled at you, your brain seemed to turn to mush, the childhood pining never seemed to leave.

Your last year at Hogwarts brought about some problems, with the monstrous pink toad and Fred’s tendencies for trouble, you could say difficulties were inevitable. Nights where Fred snuck into your dorm broken down, tired, and ready to collapse became frequent, especially after he was banned from the quidditch team. Fred was hesitant to reveal his sensitivity, but with cuts across his hands and the loss of his favourite activity, he was willing to lose it all just to rest in your arms again. Many nights he’d run to you, exhausted and restless. You’d hold him close, soothe him the best you could and heal his wounds to the best of your abilities. You didn’t know what to say, but you didn’t need to talk. Fred was content laying on your chest as you fussed over him, pressing kisses across his freckled face and mumbling rather choice words under your breath about the pink devil as you gently caressed his injured hand as light as a butterfly.

You were the first person he’d told his scheme to leave Hogwarts to, begging you to go with him and start a new life in a place he’d dreamt of since he was a child. He honestly wasn’t expecting you to agree, but how could you not? It’s not like you had much planned. Anyways, you were tired of the pain Fred had to endure during the past year, so if he was ready to leave, so were you.

You’d compare flying a broom into the sky as fireworks flashed behind you, to riding into the sunset on the back of a stallion, but yours was so much cooler. Fred had grabbed you from the floor and pulled you onto his broom, you clutched onto him for dear life as he and George flew their last victory lap and destroyed every last horrid plaque of rules that hung on the walls of the school of magic. Another feeling of freedom was evident throughout the entire building as victorious cheers sound from every window.

This was definitely better than a ride into the sunset.

Life with the twins in Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes couldn’t be defined by just one word. It was exciting, chaotic and the most fun you’ve had in your life. Designing product boxes and using charms was more of your strong suit while the boys caused explosion after explosion, perfecting their concoctions. As weeks turned into months, you and Fred felt as though you were really living a couple’s life. Waking up wrapped in each other’s arm without the worry of being caught, making and eating breakfast to tunes on the radio, dancing to a record player as day bled into night and your feet finally got sore.

This is how fairy tale characters must feel after their story ends, you’d think every day, happy and so deeply in love, relishing every moment together and at peace.

You’d finally been introduced to Mrs. Weasley that coming Christmas, her tender love really made you feel welcome and almost moved you to tears.

“It’s nice to see Freddie finally found someone who loves him as much as you do, I can see it in your eyes darling, you’re perfect for him.”

Fred never understood why they said ‘fall’ in love, sure you may feel your senses fade at times but it was never like a fall. If it made sense he’d say he rose into love for you. You brought him to cloud nine, you raised his spirits whenever you joked with him when he was down. You raised the corners of his lips into a smile by just existing. You raised him further towards his dreams and supported him no matter what. Ironically, he dropped to his knee to propose to you, just like he had in your sixth year at the Yule Ball, once again pouring his heart out to you, this time to truly make you his.

“Here we are again, love.” He laughed as he fell to his knee behind you in a muggle park not too far from Diagon Alley.

“Darling, I love you. I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You push me towards my dreams, comfort me when I’m upset, and make me smile every single day. I realized how much I needed you back in our sixth year, but today I ask you to seal the deal and become, y/n Weasley?”

It is hard to define love, so many forms of it, so many ways to express it and spread it to the people around you, but when Fred Weasley proposed to you, people looked over and felt the unconditional love between two people that brought tears to their eyes. When Fred Weasley looked at you, you were his everything. His past, present and future, his calm during a storm, his brightest star.

When Y/n said yes, you could hear the love of the purest of heart. The love of a best friend and a partner.

Love opens the best in us, it reveals pieces of us never seen before and unlocks emotions never known. Fred could now ensure a smile on your face for the rest of your days, and the childhood pining could finally rest knowing you would be with this man forever.

When the war finally pulled the wizarding world into the dark, the prankster and the dreamer knew they wouldn’t be able to stand to the side. They needed to help bring back the peace, and they would fight beside the people they cared about. The wedding was postponed until further notice, but it was sworn on a pinky promise that as soon as the chaos was over, you’d pick up where you left off and walk down the aisle in your white dress.

As you stood on the Hogwarts school ground, death eaters on every side and Voldemort cackling maniacally, you reached out for your prince’s hand. Closing your eyes to regain your calm before you had to charge into the incoming fight. Fred had squeezed your hand before pressing his lips to yours in the most passionate kiss the two of you had ever shared.

Looking back, you should’ve held Fred there with you, by your side throughout the entire fight. You should have kept your hands interlocked, standing tall by each other’s side, an unbreakable force to be reckoned with.

Instead the two of you charged forward separated, fighting close, but by your friends’ sides, throwing spell after spell to inch closer to a brighter future. Pain didn’t matter, each wave of your wand could be a step closer to a happy tomorrow.

It was almost thrilling fighting by your classmate, protecting them brought a new sense of purpose to your being and drowned out everything else to focus on the task at hand. Things were turning your way, Neville slayed that dreaded snake, Harry returned, Voldemort would never win now right? Everything would turn out fine. Right?

How wrong you were.

Victory was within reach, death eaters were filtering into smaller numbers and your friends were still alive. Your head was swivelling for your love, the only thought on your mind being to find your prince, your knight, the love of your life. The flash of red hair was just ahead, the light at the end of the tunnel was right there. You called out his name and his head whipped to meet yours. Your eyes met and you could see your future, your wedding, a family, growing old with this man.

Then the rubble fell, and in a flash, everything was taken away from you.

It is hard to define love, but when witches and wizards heard the shrill cry of a heart being torn in half, they could feel the love y/n l/n held for Fred Weasley. The pure, unconditional love that would’ve withstanded the test of time and any problem life could throw her way. The love that had so much hope many people turned away, it was too much to bear. The love that had you digging even though your hands were scabbed and bleeding.

Now when you ask how Fred Weasley showed his love in this scenario, the only thing to say was he died with a smile on his face. He died knowing his last sight was the love of his life running towards him, ready to turn to the next chapter of their lives.

You dug through the rock frantically, grasping onto the hope that for some divine reason Fred could be alive.

This isn’t how the story is supposed to end, your prince was supposed to wrap you into your arms and every problem was supposed to melt away, you were supposed to marry, kiss in front of all your family and friends and live the rest of your days together.

Realization hit you like a speeding train, you were never going to walk down the aisle to see Fred’s reaction to you in a white dress, you were never going to hold your child in your arms and see Fred become the amazing father you knew he would become. You were never going to see him grey and old, still a prankster and still deeply in love. You were never going to feel his lips against yours ever again. Hear his whispers in your ear about how much he loved you, or his melodic laugh that brought butterflies to your stomach every time.

Turns out, the villain of your story wasn’t unrequited love, it wasn’t Umbridge or even Voldemort. It was something even more cruel and insufferable. Death is not something humans really understand, even the most powerful witches and wizards cannot deny that death will come upon you, it is inevitable. There is so much about death we do not understand. All we know is one minute they’re here, the next they’re gone. But you might say, this is a fairy tale, there’s bound to be a happy solution and our lovers will get their happy ending. No, this is reality and our lovers were not that lucky, and the loss of half a heart is not something to be taken lightly.

“No.”

When Fred’s body was retrieved, you were joined by the rest of the Weasley family in their grieving, and while you could never understand what it would be like to lose a brother and a son, you’d lost the man you were going to spend the rest of your days with, and that left a hole in your heart never to be repaired, never to heal.

To lose a lover, but to hold their lifeless body in your arms is a surreal feeling you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy, it’s something that has the power to break even the strongest people and make the most positive lose hope. Every ounce of love in your being spilt through tears that held every wish and hope you’ve ever had. That day you lost your feeling of freedom, and a sick sense of being trapped plagued your every move.

This isn’t how the story was supposed to end.

“What happened to their ‘happily ever after?” A young girl asks her father.

“Well young y/n, as you may know you were named after the very girl who fell in love with my brother and lost everything. Some say she died of a broken heart, others say Freddie came back and took her away to paradise.” An older George Weasley smiles down at his young daughter, snuggled in blankets, clutching a picture frame in her small hands.

“But why couldn’t uncle Fred come back? I thought every fairy tale ends with a happily ever after, those were aunt y/n’s favourite stories right?” Young y/n’s brown eyes flash in confusion and hurt as she lowers the photo of you to her lap.

“Yes, they were her favourite. There was no doubt her and Fred had a love greater than any fairy tale, but not all love stories get a ‘happily ever after.’ Sometimes it’s just a ‘once upon a time.”

[mrvltwimagines]

Thinking Thin

SPENCER REID X READER

SUMMARY: You knew you couldn’t hide your habits forever, you just hoped you could’ve hid them a bit longer.

WARNINGS: Eating Disorders, Low Self-Esteem, Self Degradation 

WORD COUNT: 4k

I knew that what I was thinking was just my mental illness talking. While looking at my body in the mirror, I knew that the words I was thinking about what I saw were words only I thought about myself, but it didn’t stop me from thinking them and believing them.

Pulling my t-shirt up a little higher, I felt a sense of dread come over myself when I take in my overall form. My stomach still hung a bit, and from a side view even tight pants couldn’t stop the protruding shape of it. I wanted to cry. I wanted to physically cut the fat off of myself. How humiliating it felt to be fat when I worked in the field that I do, surrounded by beautiful people. How did the team not look at me and doubt my work? How did they feel so comfortable trusting me with their life when I don’t even have my own put together? I sighed as I pulled my shirt back down and tucked it back into my slacks. After throwing a cardigan on to help me cover up a bit more, I was out the door and on my way to work.

The second I walked out of the elevator and towards the bullpen, I could feel my anxiety rising. I had joined the BAU team close to a year ago. I was close with them all, comfortable on an emotional level with each of them, but when it came to my insecurities and every day struggles to just stay alive or even just eat a meal, they were oblivious. So when I was having a bad day like today, my anxiety sat a little higher on my scale and I could only hope that I could keep it low key.

“Good morning, y/n,” JJ sweetly greeted me as I set my bag down. She was sitting on Reid’s desk, him in his chair and Derek standing next to them. I blushed at the attention I got as they followed JJ’s eye-line, and offered back a similar greeting before taking a seat and letting out a sigh.

“Rough morning, princess?” Derek chuckled. I wanted to say yes, but I knew the question was generic and made more for the purpose of humor.

“Just feel like I’m always tired nowadays. As much as I hate to say it, it’s like I need cases to keep me alert and busy,” I offered back. It wasn’t a lie, I was tired. It might have to do with the little food intake, or the restless sleep, but what they don’t know doesn’t hurt. I did feel more alert when working a case, but that’s to be understood since every case is dealing with murderers. If I wasn’t alert, it’d be a bit questionable.

“Well you are in luck then, missy. Hotch wants us all in the conference room, we have a new case,” Garcia chimed in, speed walking past the four of us and towards the conference room. I watched the others stand up and begin to follow her, but the second I stood up I felt the dizziness set in and stopped myself from moving for a second, needing the support of my desk to not topple over. The dizziness subsided and I cleared my eyesight before standing up straight and trying to blow off what just happened. I looked around to see if anyone caught that, my heartbeat picking up a bit when I made direct eye contact with Spencer right before he disappeared into the conference room. The panicked feeling in my chest grew as I walked towards the room. I could only hope he either saw the end of what just happened, or that he was just curiously looking around and looked at me the same time I looked at him. I didn’t have much time to think before entering the room where everyone was already seated, quickly making my way to my own seat in between Emily and Derek.

“Alright team, last night in Washington, a third hiker was found with a limb missing,” Garcia started, flashing pictures of the newest and previous other victims with different body parts missing from each of them. Beginning to brainstorm with the team, my thought process was somewhere else. I really tried to stay with them, and to throw in my own insights, but it was hard when trying to avoid eye contact with Spencer when I could feel his gaze on me a lot of the time. What was he thinking? 

Soon enough Hotch announced that we’ll be flying out in thirty minutes, and everyone started to separate to go grab their to-go bags and finish up any last minute tasks. As I walked out of the conference room, I jumped a bit at Reid standing up straight and pushing off of the railing right outside the door.

“Jesus Spence, are you trying to kill me?” I chuckled, throwing a hand over my heart to be dramatic. My heart was actually beating fast, only continuing its pace once I made direct eye contact with him. He offered a shy smile, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Sorry, I truly didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled, “I just wanted to check in with you, see if you were feeling alright?”

“Oh yeah, like I said earlier, just a bit tired.”

“You looked like you were on the verge of passing out right before we went into the conference room. Are you sure you’re alright? Are you feeling sick?” He pushed on. My cheeks went red knowing he had witnessed my dizziness spell earlier. My mind whirled with all my potential answers, but I just couldn’t think of a good one.

“Oh no, I’m not sick. I’m fine, I promise,” I tried to sound confident in my answer, waving him off while beginning to walk by him. I jumped a bit at the feeling of his hand gently wrapping around my forearm, stopping me from walking away.

“I’ve noticed you have moments like what I saw earlier a lot recently. You know you can talk to me about anything, what’s going on?” My eyes widened a bit at how observant he’s been. Of course he wouldn’t forget what he’s seen considering his ability to memorize literally everything, but I didn’t expect him to notice me as much as he has.

“I-“ my mouth clamped shut at the sound of Hotch calling everyone to start to head out. I took the distraction to pull my arm away from Spencer and speed walk to my desk, grabbing my bag and following the others to the elevator. I begged myself not to turn around and look at Spencer, but it was inevitable when hopping into the elevator and facing the doors to see him joining the rest of us. He wasn’t looking at me, and I let out a deep breath. I knew the conversation wasn’t over. I knew he was not making a scene for the sake of my privacy, which I’m thankful for, but I just never wanted this conversation to pick back up.

* * *

The second we got to Washington and split up, any previous thoughts were thrown to the curb and our attention was fully on the case. Hotch, Reid and I made our way into the police station, and the chief of police was quick to fill us in on everything he knew about the case. Thanking him, we were quick to be left on our own to try and figure things out.

The day went by quickly, everyone joining back at the station around 8pm with more and more information, getting us closer to figuring out the unsub. Spencer’s been watching me a bit, and I could tell he had something to say every time I declined wanting anything to eat and instead settling with drinking more coffee. To settle his mind a bit, I made sure to eat a small vending machine granola bar within his eyesight hoping he would be satisfied seeing me eat something. Before we knew it, it was 11pm and we were all exhausted, ready to head to the hotel for the night and pick back up in the morning.

“Alright, we have four rooms. Who wants to board with who?” Hotch asks as we’re packing up our things. This happens every time, and most of the time Spencer and I would share a room, but sometimes Derek and him would go with each other and I’d get a room by myself considering Rossi and Hotch usually go in one and JJ and Emily would share another.

“I’ll board with y/n,” Spencer called out quickly. Everyone else figured their situation after that, but my mind was racing and my stomach was sinking.

I knew there would be a day where hiding my habits would become a bit harder, I just didn’t want to believe that today might be the day that they may become exposed to someone else. I haven’t lost nearly enough weight for the team to notice, and I’ve been doing extremely well at keeping this personal matter at bay. I’ve never had to talk about any of this with everyone, so it’s a dreadful thought that in just under ten minutes there’s the potential that i’m going to have to try an figure out how to hide what’s going on to the extreme or end up telling Spencer what’s truly going on.

The thought of him knowing sent a buzz throughout my body. My mind told me it’s pathetic that I restrict so heavily, and to still be as fat as I am. Would he even believe me if I told him I have an eating disorder while looking like I do? Most days I want to laugh at myself for having an eating disorder and still being so heavy, and I know that Spencer is nowhere near as cruel as my own mind, but what if he doesn’t take it seriously? Would that hurt more than the constant nagging in my brain and pain throughout my body?

The car came to a stop and we all began to go our separate ways. Spencer grabbed our key from Hotch, and I slowly followed behind his tensed form. He didn’t say anything to me the entire elevator ride up. I could feel him side eyeing me and my cheeks burned red. 

I was expecting him to say something the second we got into our room, but he didn’t. Instead he simply announced that he was going to shower, and left me alone in the room. A sigh of relief left my lips before my mind went straight to overthinking. What if he just genuinely doesn’t care and he was simply “checking” on me earlier to at least acknowledge what he saw? What if he’s simply going to ignore it? Isn’t that what I want? Why do I feel so upset that he’s not asking me more questions, when i’ve been pushing so hard for him not to?

My mind felt like mush. I didn’t struggle like this everyday. Most days went on like normal. I’d wake up, drink coffee, head to work and just immerse myself into whatever project is going on so I didn’t have to think about food. Most days I’d eat at least one meal, two if I got a considerate amount of exercise in. I won’t deny that i’ve lost weight, but it just wasn’t enough, and that was proven by the fact that no one else seemed to notice either. No one on the team ever judged me for my weight, and I know they all loved me for who I am and not what I look like, but it’s hard not to compare myself when on the same team as women that look like JJ and Emily. They were skinny and pretty, men loved to stare at them, while I was always overlooked and ignored. I thought maybe, just maybe, if I lost some weight and tried a little harder, I might feel a bit more loved. And that’s where I felt conflicted. What I’m doing is unhealthy. I know that much, but I couldn’t just stop. It’s become an addiction of mine to really push myself and see how low of a calorie intake I can have each day while still feeling normal. It’s addicting to have control over this when everything else in my life feels so out of reach. 

“y/n?” my head snapped towards the bathroom door, seeing Spencer leaning against the frame. I didn’t realize I had sat down on the end of one of the beds, or that I had just been staring at the wall the entire time. His hair was wet, and he was dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a plain t-shirt. He looked so beautiful, too beautiful to want to be around someone like me. 

“What’s going on?” he asked. I’d be stupid to assume that he can’t read me like a book, but I knew that saying anything along the lines of “nothing” wouldn’t be a suitable answer for him. 

“I’m just tired.”

“Don’t give me that again, y/n,” he sighed frustratingly and I could feel my heart wrench. Was I annoying him? 

“You’ve changed in the past few months. I never see you eat, you’re experiencing dizzy spells, and don’t think I don’t notice how you either avoid your reflection in any reflecting surface or you simply grimace at what you’re seeing. Tell me what’s going on, and don’t lie to me.” 

I shook my head, willing myself to stop the tears that were forming and so badly wanted to stream down my face. I quickly turned my head to the opposite side of the room from him, feeling as if I might implode if I made eye contact with him.

“I’m just tired, Spence. Can we please just leave it at that?” I asked. I didn’t mean to sound so weak, I wanted to sound confident as to not add to his suspicions, but I messed that up too. 

“I’m not going to leave it at that. Do you think i’m stupid, y/n?” this time I couldn’t help but look at him. His voice carried anger and frustration, and it made a ball of guilt and shame expand in my chest. He held eye contact with me before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Of course I don’t think your stu-”

“You must if you don’t think i’ve caught on to what you’re doing to yourself. You’ve lost a good amount of weight within the past few months, you’re not eating, you keep getting dizzy, your moods are constantly changing, and again - I see the way you look at yourself. Now are you going to talk to me or am I just stuck here keeping these assumptions to myself and letting you hurt yourself?”

My eyes widened at hearing all the things he’s noticed. I was definitely the stupid one for assuming he wouldn’t notice. He was staring me down. I tried to hold eye contact but couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” I spit out. I don’t know what exactly I was apologizing for, but I know I felt guilty. I felt defeated and sad that while I was hurting myself, I was also making Spencer experience it along side with me unknowingly. 

“I don’t want you to apologize to me!” His exclamation was the final straw to get the tears running down my face. Could I possibly make this any worse? He clearly knows what going on, and I’m only making him more frustrated the longer I continue to not talk about it, but it was still so embarrassing. I didn’t want to talk out loud about this issue, almost like I felt I didn’t deserve to. 

“I want you to tell me you have an eating disorder. I want you to confide in me like I do with you all the time for my problems! I want to hear whats going on in your big, stubborn brain to make you think what you’re doing to yourself is okay!” he approached continued while approaching me. I still sat on the edge of the bed, and he stood right in front of me. I couldn’t help the slight jump at the feeling of his hands gently caressing each side of my face, tilting my head up, forcing me to make eye contact with him.

“I hate how I look,” I softly spoke through tears, “I’m surrounded by beautiful people and I can’t help the embarrassment that floods through me on the daily because I will never be worthy of anyones time. I have rolls and a stomach that hangs over, and I can’t wear shorts or skirts without my thighs chafing and sometimes even my jeans grow holes because they can’t take the tension of having so much fat rub together,” I could feel my regret bubble up with every word I was saying, knowing that whether it be tonight or tomorrow or the day after that, I will regret having talked about any of this out loud, but I can’t stop myself now. It’s been bubbling up in my system for too long.

“I can’t imagine being in a relationship with anyone looking the way I do. I can’t imagine anyone would find me attractive, let alone sexy. I can’t look at myself in the mirror, especially naked, how could I expect anyone else to want to? So i’m trying to lose weight. It might not be the best way, but it’s working. It’s working and it might have some negative side affects, but i need it to work, Spence. I can’t keep looking like this,” now I was frustrated crying. So frustrated that I look the way I do. Frustrated that i’ve never been skinny in my entire life, and that even as a kid I was ridiculed for my weight. Frustrated that what i’m saying won’t make sense to a lot of people, but for me it’s my entire existence. My days revolve around this happening to me, and to others they still just see a fat person. 

Spencers grip tightened a bit when I tried to pull away. His thumbs had been slowly helping wipe away the tears that didn’t seem to want to stop. For someone who claims so much that they didn’t want anyone to find out, I sure did feel all too relieved that the secret was out. I didn’t know what I wanted out of this, but by the look on Spencers’ face, at least I knew I have someone that loves and cares for me even while dealing with such a difficult thing. 

Without saying anything, he pulls me into his chest. My tears were beginning to subside, but the ache in my chest was still persistent.

“I hate to see you treating yourself like this,” he gently started, each word creating a small vibration on my cheek from the rumbling of his chest as he spoke, “You are so strong. You’ve been dealing with this without talking to anyone? How- how you even began to form these opinions and see yourself like this is a mystery to me, but y/n, you are so so beautiful. I don’t know how else to say that. You are so bright and warm, and you help bring everyone to a better place just by being present. It fucking kills me to hear you say these things about yourself, but I get me just calling you beautiful isn’t going to magically fix things.” I could tell he was thinking as he paused after that last second, “I want to help you. I miss your smiles, i miss going out to grab food with you as a small escape from cases. I miss joking around with you, and not constantly being afraid of watching you to make sure you don’t pass out. I know there’s a certain control factor in what you’re doing, but i want to help you get control on things in a healthier way. I don’t know what else to say other than i want to help you. I don’t want to watch you hurt anymore.” 

Silence fell over the room after that. My thoughts were all over the place, and I know his were too. He slowly pulled away from me, bringing his hands back up to my face, forcing me to make eye contact with him again.

“I like the control. I can’t let myself go back to before if i still look like this,” I whispered out. 

“I can’t let you continue this, y/n. I can’t sit around knowing you’ve gone hours without eating and that you’re constantly having inner turmoil telling you you’re worth so little. You’re so important. No matter what you look like, you are and always will be so important. You’re beautiful, and smart, and you are just... so important,” he responded, “you don’t deserve all the bad you’re putting yourself through. There’s so many other things that you can gain control over, but hurting yourself like this should not be one of them. I don’t know what or how to help you, that’s what i need you to tell me. What can i do for you? What do you need from me? because you’d be stupid to think that tomorrow once we wake up and get back to working the case that i’m just going to forget all of this. This will be on my mind until you get your life back.”

I couldn’t stop myself from crying again. A warmth spread throughout my body, hearing him being so supportive and the furthest from annoyed or frustrated like i thought anyone would’ve been was soothing my heart and mind. There’s clearly no coming back from this. Spencer knew my darkest secret and he’s here telling me he wants to help. This is my chance to help myself, and i’d be more than stupid not to do it.

“I just need support. I need help. I still so badly want to lose weight, but i need help working through my disordered eating mindset and i don’t know if i can do that on my own. I just... need help,” I couldn’t think of what else i could say, but i could tell by the slow nodding and the small smile that was forming on his face that he knew what i was implying. 

“I’m so proud of you, just know that. I’m proud that you talked to me and let me know what’s going on your mind. I’m all yours, y/n. I’ll always be by your side and willing to help, you just have to let me.”

I nodded to which he slowly bent down a bit and kissed my forehead. I was beyond relieved that the conversation had died down. I was relieved that someone else knew what was going on in my mind and that i wasn’t alone anymore.

“Now go get your pajamas on. We’ve got a long day tomorrow, and I don’t want you to be too sleep deprived.” he smiled. 

Even though there were two beds, it was figured by the both of us that only one was going to be used. Once I got out of the bathroom dressed in my pajamas, Spencer was quick to pull the blankets back next to where he was laying and indicate for me to hop in next to him. I settled down, his arms gently pulling me closer to him, and i rested my head on his chest.

“Thank you Spence, for everything. I don’t know what i would do without you,” I admitted after he turned out the lights and we were both settled and about to fall asleep.

“I love you, y/n,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head. I lifted my body enough to look at him to ensure he was meaning it the way i thought he was, and the look on his face solidified that it was.

“I love you more, Spence.” 

[luvlyrv]

Another Dance (Duel Pt. 2) | Seulgi x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, knight!au

Summary: Seulgi has taught you how to dance, but now she needs to teach you what this new feeling brewing in your chest means.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Sorry this took a while to get out. Thank you again to my editor I always love your suggestions. I hope everything in this follow up makes sense.

Date: 5/9/21

Click here to read part one

Perhaps these last few months of your life have been the best. Despite the fact that training has been more brutal due to your nearing graduation into knighthood, every moment has felt brighter than the past several years of your life. Maybe all? You can’t remember ever waking up to a feeling like this all the time.

Yes, this feeling right here in your chest. The feeling you get when you wake up startled and in a frenzy from a dream of spending a day with Seulgi. A life with Seulgi. It’s the feeling that you get when she asks for your hand so that the two of you can make a fool of yourselves dancing. The strange way your chest seems to contract and hurt when Seulgi sneaks a smile while the commandment screams orders at you.

Since when did you feel like this? You’re not sure. Maybe it was that one night the two of you spent together weeks ago, where you finally felt confident enough to lead the dance for once. You had pulled her close with a bold move you didn’t even plan to make, making Seulgi give you a shocked look before glancing away, barely catching her soft smile. Maybe she was proud of you in that moment, you don’t know. You don’t know anything anymore besides Seulgi, besides the fact that you were hyper aware of her breath that night. Of the way her garments clung so close to skin, the rise and fall of her chest, the length of her eyelashes, the slope of her nose.

Every day you’re greeted by the sunrise, only to be anticipating its set.

Before you can spend your cherished time with Seulgi though, you had to go through the motions of your day. Time seemed to pass slowly as you sparred and trained. Nowadays though there was a lightness in your body that wasn’t there before, and your eyes had become better at reading the flowing movements of your opponents. You were ecstatic to see your improvement, likewise were the commanding officers and fellow apprentices, it seemed. Some officers urged you to continue to carry out whatever it was that you were doing to improve and to finally displace Seulgi. Meanwhile the knights-in-training were muttering among themselves about your progress and how it was done.

To say that you were happy that morning training ended would be an understatement. The second highlight of your day would be the precious half hour you spent with Seulgi during your afternoon meal. As you impatiently wait in line to be served whatever was deemed nutritious for prospecting knights, you think about how you were just a couple months ago. After spending some time with Seulgi you wanted to somehow be even closer to her, to spend time beyond the midnight dances you two shared.

When you had first decided to sit next to Seulgi instead of by your lonesome, you were uncharacteristically nervous. You were sure that if people looked carefully enough they could have noticed how your steady sword-arm shook as you held onto your tray of food. People didn’t hide their raised eyebrows at your approach, some people left the area, terrified at the thought of you possibly coming over to terrorize them.

It was a surprise when you had quietly asked if it was okay for you to seat yourself next to Seulgi. She didn’t hesitate to say yes, flashing you her crescent eyes you had unknowingly grown accustomed to. The surrounding witnesses to the sight were confused. When would you have willingly associated with anyone? Especially Seulgi, and in such a shy manner?

When you finally get your meal you walk towards the familiar table and remember your present day situation. Now that time has passed people are less wary around you and how you seemingly lack the intention to verbally abuse and berate people. In fact, when you began to take Seulgi’s advice of smiling more people seemed to… like you? It helped that you lost most of your competitive streak, instead favoring to focus on yourself and what you can do. Mostly your dancing, though, as you yearned to impress Seulgi more each and every night.

The clank of your tray against the wooden aging table alerts Seulgi of your presence. Quickly turning her head away from the person she was talking to, she opens her mouth to greet you. That was until Markus, a man who came from a noble family with notable enough skills, called out for you. You move to face the source of his voice, only to notice him uncomfortably close to your side. It was odd for him to suddenly appear when you swore you didn’t notice him on your way over.

“Hey, I was just wondering if you’d like to duel me in the afternoon? You know, since we haven’t gotten an opportunity to do so for the past couple weeks. Maybe go on a walk afterwards?” He throws you a shy, maybe even a cheeky smile. If there was one thing you knew about him it was that you’ve had much more encounters with him than you’d like recently, and that smile of his was one he’d thrown at other female trainees in the past. If anything, he was merely a passing thought.

“Sure, I don’t care.” You say in your signature neutral tone. Hoping that he’d leave you alone now, you began to turn back to Seulgi. Your movement is stopped when Markus puts his hand on your shoulder and swipes a finger across your cheek.

“You had some dirt there from practice. Just wanted to get it off.” He grins tortuously wide before excusing himself from the table. You sigh, and when you finally get to look at Seulgi she has a raised brow, her mouth forming a tight line. Not sure what to do at her sudden change of mood, you pick at your food a bit. You feel like you can’t eat anything under her intense stare.

You’re starting to feel nervous until Seulgi decides to tap on your shoulder. Glancing up from your plate you see her with a handkerchief in hand.

“I think," she pauses, "Markus made it worse, actually.” She adds before gently rubbing the dirt that became spread across your face. You scrunch your nose and eyes but a small smirk forms in affection.

“Does it really matter, though? I don’t care about how I look.”

“I think you look cuter without it. And more hygienic.”

**

After your meal came your academic and strategical studies. Your brain dulls into mush after countless hours of toiling over geography and the endless ways a person can kill someone. Although you still do well in a more scholar-like learning environment, your body greatly preferred the battlefield. You let out a sigh of happiness when you were allowed to stretch and start another round of sparring.

Keeping to your promise, you await as you lean into your training sword until Markus shows up in your vision again. He walks towards you with such unnerving confidence and a grin you think is permanently scribbled on his face.

“Are you ready, my lady?”

“Don’t patronize me.” You mumble. The two of you back away from each other to an appropriate distance before getting into your stances. Some people gather around the scene, which wasn’t uncommon for your battles. They want to make a spectacle of your fight.

When you rush forward towards Markus you get a good stab straight in his stomach. His reflexes seemed almost slow, or at least much slower than yours or Seulgi’s. He lets out a grunt, but the training armor and his natural durability keeps him on his feet. In an attempt to make you fall, he swings his sword arm directly downwards towards your back. You easily sidestep and continue a relentless sequence of parries and hard smacks against his arms and legs.

This continues on for minutes on minutes, much longer than the vast majority of your fights. Markus has proven himself to be a bad fighter, and the only reason you haven’t won yet is the fact that your sword wasn’t made to kill and the fact that Markus has stupidly good endurance. It’s hard for you to keep fighting. Not because you were lacking stamina but on account of the monotony of his moves started to bore you greatly.

Your mind wanders as you automatically parry Markus’ pathetic slashes without much thought. You recall how you have to go on a walk with Markus when he slips a slight grin, but after that you can go about your day and eventually spend the night with Seulgi. You think about how her smile looks in the moonlight, how her hair bounces as you move to a make-believe rhythm. You unconsciously put on a broad grin as you hope she teaches you something new tonight.

You’ve let your attention slip for too long though. When you get a grip on reality again, you realize that you’re now on the ground and Markus’ blade is descending on your body. Your reaction allows you to bring up your sword to his, a loud clang traveling through the air. With all your might you push back, trying to angle your sword so his would slide off and break free from contact. It seems like you may be able to fend off his weapon for a second, but he yells as he delivers all of his strength into pushing down on you.

The force is more than enough to make your sword lose contact with his. With the blade right on your throat he throws on a victorious expression and screams in happiness. The crowd around you softly murmur as they look at each other. Markus drinks in his win and he looks at everyone and then at you.

“You’ve gone soft on me, haven’t you?”

“What? What do you mean?” You try to brush the dirt off your back as you get up.

“I mean, why would you all of a sudden smile and let me win like that otherwise?” He chuckles with his words as he approaches you and places a hand on your back.

“I was just distracted.” You try to get away from him, but he gets closer and whispers in your ear.

“By me, right?” You hear a certain kind of joy and conceitedness in his voice that makes you want to vomit while simultaneously punching him.

“No. Now let's just get this walk done with so I can go shower or shoot my bow, or something.” At your words he shuffles away and uncomfortably leaves some space between the two of you as you go for a quick walk in the woods. Everybody watches as you two leave the area, and as you pass by you hear their whispers.

“…like him?”

“ …usually ruthless…why’d she let him win?”

“…was right…gone soft.”

You aren’t sure what to do about their theorizing or their mindless gossip, nor what to do with the man who was now clinging onto your side. What was usually a peaceful and quiet trail for you became loud and annoying as Markus kept trying to flirt despite your silence and lack of response to his remarks. It was hard to appreciate the beauty in the trees and forest life over the talkativeness of the man next to you. If you could, you wouldn’t have gone on a walk with him, but you felt like it was dishonorable of you to break an appointment or promise.

You think that next time you should bring Seulgi with you instead, it would be a pleasant experience then.

After what felt like a century of walking, you had finally looped around the trail and made it back to the beginning of the forest. You continue to trek forward and almost leave Markus behind, but he grips onto your waist and looks at you for a moment. The tinge of expectancy that gleamed in his eyes, and that's when you knew. You watch in a panic as he flutters his eyes and brings his lips to yours.

There’s a ringing in your ears from how hard you slap him.

“Don’t.” You say while walking away from him.

You decide that you should go to the shower to wash off his filth, then go to the archery range to practice shooting his face in your head.

**

It would be a lie to say you weren’t sore from the amount of work you forced upon your body today. As you hunker towards the barracks though, a sudden burst of energy renews the feelings in your limbs when you find Seulgi patiently awaiting you like always. The area clears out of people until it’s just you and Seulgi. She comes by your side to walk with you towards the field.

Your dance begins and you drink in the comfortable silence until Seulgi decided to speak.

“So, Markus, how do you feel about him?” There’s a sense of inquisitiveness that you haven’t heard from her before.

“Hm? He’s just a person.” She makes a face at your answer, scrunching her eyebrows as she pushes further,

“Really? You know, when I finished my practice match and walked around everybody was talking about the two of you… you know. How you’re a thing or something.”

“Just a misunderstanding.” You assert, but Seulgi seems to want to hear more.

“Do you not like him? What about anybody else? I feel like everybody is dying for your attention these days.” With the last sentence there’s a subtle shift to a sadder, even disgruntled tone in her voice. You watch as she bites her lip waiting for an answer, entranced enough to almost forget to reply. The insecurity was hard to ignore.

“I don’t really talk to anyone besides you, Seulgi, and I don’t know why people bother. Maybe they just respect my abilities and think now that I’m friendlier I’d be interested in a conversation. Also, you aren’t one to talk. You’ve had people following you around and worshipping you since day one.” Thinking about it, you can‘t ever remember a time where Seulgi didn’t have someone by her side.

Another wave of silence envelopes you as Seulgi finally nods, maybe settling with this answer. Or at least is mulling over your words. As she takes the time to think, you remember the events that happened earlier in the day and the question that had been bothering you.

“By the way, are you making me soft?”

You interrupt the dance you shared by taking a step back. You cock your head in examination. Recently it’s been hard to tell if Seulgi’s influence over you had been helpful or harmful. Especially since there were instances where you almost completely lost your focus like you did today.

“Where is this coming from?” She asks while putting on a confused smile, as if to say ‘excuse me?’.

“Well, obviously I’m more approachable now because of your advice, but now you’re getting in the way of my fighting.”

“Huh?” Seulgi is taken aback by your words and how you state them so matter-of-factly.

“Sometimes I lose focus in the middle of fights now. They accused me of becoming soft.”

“How can I possibly be at fault for that?”

“Well, it’s you that I think about. All the time.” You reach out for her hand, gently tugging it towards you and then onto your chest. “And you make my heart beat real fast. Faster than any running commandment has made us done. It kind of hurts my chest, really. Have you casted a spell on me too?”

You feel Seulgi’s hand tremble in a quake.

“Y/N, are you joking right now?”

“No, I just want to know, why do I feel like this all the time around you?” Looking at Seulgi’s face you spot how the tips of her ears turned a bright red, despite the darkness of the night. Your other hand pulls back her hair so you can examine it further. With a worried look you ask, “Oh, are you cold? Should we go back inside?” You panic a little as you see the pink had spread onto the rest of her face.

“You…” Seulgi’s breath has quickened, and she rescinds her hand from yours. You’re worried you’ve done something wrong as Seulgi refused to even look at you, instead she's staring at her feet. “You like me, stupid.” The dramatic atmosphere turns lighthearted as she laughs boisterously.

“Huh? Is that what this means?”

“Are you being serious with me?” Seulgi keeps laughing at you, much to your frustration.

“Yes! I am! I don’t understand! I’ve never felt this way before, that’s why I have to ask.” Your face lapses to a pout and that seems to encourage her to keep laughing at you.

“Hey, stop pouting!” Her laughing reduced to giggles as she walked closer to you. She brings her hands forward as they cup your face. Your knees feel weak, buckling at the warmth in her hands and the care they seemed to radiate. She finally calms down when she asks you, “Now, if you really like me then tell me," she sucks in a quick breath," would you like to kiss me right now?”

For a second you’re frozen, but soon enough you bashfully nod your head a little too hard.

Her lips reach yours and you instantly smile. The lips that you’ve stared at for hours, the ones that say the words that have moved you the most, the ones that curve adorably and ignites the dormant happiness within you. You stay that way for a moment that both felt like forever and like no time at all. Seulgi breaks away before kissing each of your cheeks.

“Oh,” she sighs while staring at you, “you’ve made me the happiest person in the world.”

[sansmania]

its o VER WHY WAS THIS SO LONG? 

part 1 | part 2 | art that goes with the fic

Title: Your Man

Ship: Boss [ @bonelyheartsclub ]/ GN Reader

Descrip: take it im drifting out to sea because HES GONNA BE A COWBOY thE END

Willie had taken his time to take in the damage done to the beloved boots, tutting and frowning at the holes and shredded leather.

"Oh yeah, I can fix 'em for ya, but it'll take a few days, Mr. Boss. That lil' dog did a number to these." Boss exhaled through his nasal bone with a silent nod. It seems 'Toby' had also managed to dislodge some of the pins that held the heels in, which would mean the boots needed to be completely stripped and rebuilt from the sole up.

"That is fine, I suppose. They mean a great deal to me, so take the time you need to get them back to perfect condition." He seemed a bit emotional about leaving the boots behind, and you gently assured the skeleton that they were in skilled hands. Leaving his contact information, the two of you turned to leave. 

Until a bony hand grabbed your neckline again.

"You said this store specializes in leather and boots, correct?"

"Yes?" You held the word out longer than necessary, red pinpricks looking down at you, then to the fluorescent shoes between you.

"I would like to peruse them, then. It would not hurt for me to have a few more sets, anyway. And I am beyond done with these sneakers. I feel like one of those fictional circus clowns."

You bit your tongue at his presumption, knowing Boss wouldn't listen to a word you had to say on the subject, and accepted your fate in the tobacco and wood lacker scented hell.

After a bit of searching, pausing only to laugh at some of the ridiculous 'southern fact' signs they had decorating a shelf, the pair of you found the boot section of the large store.

"Human, I highly doubt if Texas were real, that it would home ninety percent of the planet's spider population." You couldn't help the snort that came out at Boss' comment as he walked over to the wall of shoes.

His eyelights were transfixed on the detailed stiches in some of the leather boots. His phalanges traced over a pair that had some gaudy gems placed into them- a pair that had studs- red stained leather- black snake skin. He was strangely silent as he looked over each set with wonder.

You didn't think any of them were Boss' style, to be honest. They were about classic as classic cowboy boots get- you could have sworn you even spotted a pair made of alligator skin.

"These." He finally spoke, pulling down one of the only sets that seemed to be ankle high. They were a deep maroon, black stitching along the sides and folds, and a very obvious steel toe embedded inside. There were a few gold embellishments and you felt they were gaudy as all hell.

But, that expression of wonder in Boss' eyes made him look like a child on gyftmas morning.

It was cute.

He was cute.

"I mean, sure, if you're into red, black and gold-" The skeleton flicked his eyes towards you, making your mouth snap shut. He took a seat on a nearby bench, listlessly kicking off the offending accessories to try the new boots on.

Boss became silent once again, taking in the shine of leather as he tilted his feet and legs to get a good look at them.

"There is a mirror over there." You mention, pointing a few feet away, and he stood up to admire the shape of the shoes. And while he did so, you also found yourself admiring him.

Boss was very tall- even without the help of his stiletto heels- and his broad shoulders squared in perfect posture made almost anything he wore look breathtaking. His choice of attire today fit snuggly against his ribcage, tapering down his spine- making Boss look, pun intended, skeleton thin. Tight, but soft, leather pants hugged his narrow hips and bony legs, perfectly shaping his body.

"Hmm. A bit lower than what I am used to, but they are quite fetching on me. What do you think, human?"

He caught you staring, once again, in the mirror- just as your eyes had been slowly trailing down his legs, brain becoming grey mush. You curse quietly, turning your head away with a mutter of agreement.

"Sadly, they do not match the rest of my attire. I should see if they have apparel here to compliment my figure and accessories." He made an amused sound when you cocked your head at the suggestion, cheeks burning with new fervor.

Oh. He knew exactly what he was doing now. Boss wouldn't even play with the idea if any of his family was around, but since it was just the two of you, he was going to continue his sadistic game.

When you had first met Boss, you would have sworn he didn't have a playful bone in his body- the serious tone and way he carried himself made it seem he was all work and no play. But, as you got to know him, his true colors seemed to blossom forth. Yes, he hated puns, that didn't mean he had no sense of humor. His humor was dry and a little cynical- and you had nearly soiled yourself in laughter when he cracked his first joke around you.

He also found Blue and Nox's rivalry amusing, egging them on at times just to get under their skin.

And when then two of you were alone, he was much more relaxed, allowing more of his jovial side to come out. Sometimes it was a welcome blessing and sometimes it was not.

As it was at your expense today, it was one of those times that his sense of humor didn't delight.

"Uh, s-sure. Why not? Let's find you a nice pair of chaps-" Boss' amused smile caught you off guard as he held a hand up to stop you from moving. You had hoped he would allow you to help, maybe in a way save yourself from this horrible fate.

"No, I believe I can handle dressing myself just fine. Though, I will listen to your opinion after I have chosen an outfit." The smirk didn't go away as you made a noise of disdain. The skeleton sauntered off on his own, leaving you to scream internally at being caught red handed and was going to make you suffer for it.

When he turned a corner, you were on your feet- tossing the old converse in your inventory- and did your best to sneak around the store behind the him. Occasionally, Boss would turn his head out of suspicion, causing you to duck behind a shelf, while he thumbed through the racks of clothes.

He was enjoying teasing you like this, smirk still apparent on his face. You were by no means subtle, so Boss knew you were tailing him around, and that only added to his amusement.

You peeked over a row of jackets that were fastened with tassels while Boss sifted through some button up shirts. His foot tapped along to the music with perfect rhythm, though, you were more shocked when his low voice was barely audible.

He was quietly singing along to the tune.

Boss Gothic Serif.

Was singing country.

And he knew you were watching and listening.

The next time he glanced over his shoulder, Boss caught your reddened face as a devious smile curled on his skull. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Human, I have picked out a suitable ensemble. Feel free to wait there for me to change." You didn't hide this time when he spoke up, accepting defeat, stepping out to follow the monster towards the changing rooms.

You knew from the first day of meeting these skeletons that they would be the death of you. You just didn't expect it to be in a dime store cowboy shop in the city.

Flopping down on another bench, you waited for death to finish his wardrobe swap and drag you to the dark depths- knowing now that he was going to be dressed like a cowboy with Shania Twain playing gently to send you off.

The shuffle of cloth behind the barn themed doors caught your attention, the soft click of bones on wood as a lock was lifted and the doors swung open.

Words choked in your mouth as it hung ajar, Boss stepping out of the small room with the most smug look on his face you had ever seen him muster.

His head was tilted down ever so slightly, burning red eyes shaded by the black hat atop his skull. Your eyes dragged down to the crisp maroon and black button up, gold skull bola tie strung in the collar and rested on his nearly bare breastbone.

The shirt was rolled at the sleeves, showing off his battle scarred hands and arms, and the tail tucked neatly into a pair of tight black dyed jeans; adorned and held up by a red leather belt that had a large gold skull buckle to keep it all together. The jeans hugged the skeleton's frame all the way down to the coordinated boots.

Boss leaned against the doorframe, taking in your reaction with sadistic glee; How you couldn't form a single word in appreciation to his wardrobe selection. How your face was red enough to put his shirt to shame. How your eyes lingered over the single undone button at his clavicle.

How your reaction made his soul thrum with pride.

"Comments?" He finally spoke, beyond amused at the way you startled to his rough voice- dropping it an octave or two, successfully getting further reactions out of you. Finally, you managed to swallow the hard, dry lump that formed in your throat, tearing your gaze away to look back to Boss' expecting eyes.

You coughed and looked away

"Yee. Haw?" Was all you could manage as he stepped forward, boots loudly clacking against the hardwood floor. The terrifying skeleton you called a friend, and obviously waxed red towards, stopped mere feet before you, dragging your attention back to him.

"Is that all you have to say? I would appreciate some feedback, maybe I should make another selection if this doesn't suit me-"

"No, don't!" You found your voice as Boss turned heel to find something else to fluster you with. He quirked a brow ridge at your outburst, returning to his previous position, arms crossed as he awaited to hear your real feelings. 

"You. You look good, Boss." You did your best to hold your voice steady as his gaze made you shrink into the bench, like you were going to become a permanent fixture in the store.

"Just ‘good’?" Oh, he was going to make you suffer. Breathing hard through your nose, you looked back up at him. Boss already knew how you felt, so this was just torture to feed his ego.

And you may as well feed it.

"Fine." There was a pause as you found the words. “You look amazing. Handsome. Stunning.” You could feel your face and neck darkening with each admission- at this point, had you even been referring to just how he looked now? He seemed to preen at each compliment, all too pleased to drink in your words of praise.

"Then I do believe I will purchase these items. They may be in start contrast to the rest of my wardrobe, but some variety in life never hurts."

It was interesting to watch Boss fannagle with the cashier about buying all the clothes items while he was still in them- but he managed to do it, and in style, if you were honest.

With his boots squared away, clothes tucked into his inventory, and you at his side, Boss literally strutted out of the store- leading you both back to his car.

"Human, you make it so easy to fluster you, you do realize that." Boss' smile from before had not left his features, even as you pulled into the culdesac in which you lived.

"Yeah, I'm aware, Boss." You heaved a final embarrassed sigh as the car came to a stop at your curb. Gathering your belongings, and what little bit of pride you had left, the car door swung open and you turned back to him. "Tease the human that has feelings for you. Ha, ha."

"But, uh." You pause, leaning on the door to look Boss in the eyes.

"Have fun getting into your room before Red or Stretch see you, Cowboy."

[kopikokun]

Shotgun༄ mark. l

↳ You were just meant to get high, but getting to kiss Mark Lee is definitely a plus.

pairing: stoner!mark x reader

content: fluff, drug use (namely marijuana), stoner!au

word count: 1.3k words

author’s note: can you tell i had no idea how to insert the first prompt?

Request 35: Mark + “Can we cuddle?” (52) + “Shut up and kiss me already.” (55) + “You’re making me blush!” (68) + “Are you high?” (93)

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

If your mother were here, she’d have probably passed out. You can totally envision the look of sheer horror on her face as she’d stare at you in your friend’s car, his hand scandalously gripping your thigh as tendrils of smoke leave his pretty pink lips. You’re already feeling a little lightheaded from just the second-hand smoke, but that still doesn’t hinder the fact that you’re enjoying this way more than you had expected. Or maybe it’s just the company.

 “Get your feet off my dash.”

 “Oh, come on, your car’s filthy anyway, Mark.”

 “Feet. Off. Now.” Mark’s hand grabs your left and then right foot, bending it towards you and forcing you to tuck your feet beneath the dash board.

 “Whatever,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “When’s it gonna be my turn?”

 Mark kneads the soft flesh of your thigh, his hand ice cold against the warmth of your skin. “Be a bit more patient, will you?”

  You groan, slumping in your seat and peering out the window. Since Mark parked the car here about an hour ago, the road’s been mostly desolate, save for the occasional car every now and then. A swarm of bugs crowd the streetlamps along the road, their bodies just tiny floating specks in the distance. The car is stuffy and faint R&B music plays in the background, creating an almost serene atmosphere. You don’t realise that you’re starting to drift off until Mark’s voice jolts you awake.

  “Are you high?” he jeers, rolling the blunt between his fingers. “You look like you’re about to pass out already. This really is your first time, huh?”

 You scoff. “No, I’m not high because someone won’t let me take a hit yet,” you retort. “And how’d you know that?”

 Mark’s eyes unabashedly trail your figure as he licks his lips. “You don’t really look like someone who’s smoked before.”

 Heat begins to pool in your cheeks. You’re reminded of your friend Renjun making some off-handed remark the other day about how you’ve exuded a ‘good girl’ aura since your high school years, and you suppose he had been right. “Well, just be honoured that I’m getting high for the first time with you, Mark Lee.”

 Mark holds a hand to his heart theatrically. “Aw, how sweet. You’re making me blush.” He pats your thigh, shifting in his seat. “Alright then, you wanna take a hit now?”

 Like an excitable dog, you instantly straighten your back, facing Mark with fervour. “Yeah, I do.”

 Mark chortles. “Look at you being all cute. You want me to shotgun you? You know what that is, right?”

 “Shotgun me?” Your eyes widen. “Of course, I know what that is.” You’ve seen your fair share of teen flicks. Mark wants to shotgunyou? The notion makes your cheeks warm. He’s gonna kiss you, well not really, but close enough. You’d be lying if the thought didn’t get your pulse racing. You can’t deny your attraction for Mark. He’s charming and witty in all the ways that gets your gut churning. Of course you want him to kiss, no, shotgun you. “Yeah, sure.”

 “Cool,” Mark says. Wow, he sure is being nonchalant about this. Does he do this often? How many other people has he done this with? The image of Mark melding his lips with somebody else has your stomach in envious knots, which in hindsight, is stupid of you. His friend. He can shotgun anyone he wants. Is what you tell yourself, but you know you really don’t want him to.

 “Alright, come here.” Mark gestures for you to inch your face closer to his with a wave of his hand. Your heart soars as his face nears yours. This is really happening. Mark’s going to shotgun you. At first you came here with the genuine intention of getting high, but now this seems like a way better scenario.

 Your eyes follow the blunt in his hand, nervously anticipating for the moment he takes a hit. To your surprise though, he turns the joint and places the lit side in his mouth instead, right in between his teeth. You’re quick to voice your confusion, tearing yourself away from his gaze. “What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to take a hit and blow it into my mouth?”

 Mark’s thin brow quirks as he takes the joint from his lips. “What? No, you’re supposed to suck on the other side while I blow. That’s what I meant by shotgunning. What did you--” Mark’s mouth forms an O as realisation dawns on him. “Oh, you thought I meant that kind of shotgunning?”

 You’ve never felt this mortified in your life. There’s more than one way to shotgun? So, Mark didn’t want to kiss you? You’ve never felt more betrayed in your entire life. But the teen flicks... they were all lies? Looking at Mark’s amused expression, you’ve got half the heart to just jump out of his car and sprint all the way onto some highway and into traffic. The realisation that there won’t be as many cars as you would like extinguishes the idea. Your next best option is denial. “No, I didn’t think that.”

 Mark grins at you. “Yeah, you did. Don’t lie to me.” You turn away from him, hoping to hide your humiliation. “Hey, don’t be embarrassed. It was an honest mistake. And, I’m not gonna lie, I’m down to shotgun the way you meant if you are. I just didn’t do it from the start because I thought it’d make you uncomfortable.”

 “No, it’s okay,” you reassure. "You can do it. I won’t be uncomfortable.”

  “So, you want me to try to shotgun you again?” Mark asks, grinning coyly.

  “No, I want you to kiss me.”

 Mark sputters. “What?”

 “Nothing.”

 “You want me to kiss you?”

 “Forget it. You know what? I think I am high.”

 “If you wanted to kiss me you could’ve just said so in the beginning. I’m down for that.”

 You blink at Mark, searching his gaze for that little glint of mischief. “Stop playing with me, Mark.”

 “I’m not.” His eyes, now admittedly a little pinkish in tone, glance down at your lips. “I’m serious.”

 “Then, shut up and kiss me already.”

 It’s a little messy, but kissing Mark is honestly a drug in itself. His lips are just as you imagined they’d feel yet at the same time, they’re miles better than you could have ever hoped for. They’re soft and sweet yet hungry and desperate. His hand which was on your thigh now cups your jaw, and although his palm is a little rough, you can’t help but lean into his touch. Maybe you really are high because even the foreign taste of the weed intermingled with that cheap watermelon gum he always chews on which invades your senses has your brain melting into a little puddle of mush.

 Way sooner than you would have liked, the kiss of your dreams ends just as quickly as it began. Not really though, you think, because by the time Mark pulls away, both of you are panting for air and you bet that your lips are probably just as swollen as Mark’s.

 “Wow,” he sighs. “We should do that more often.”

 All you can muster in your haze is a small nod of agreement.

 You’re not sure how much time has passed, but somehow you find yourself curled up in Mark’s arms in his backseat. Well, actually you do know how that happened because you faintly recall asking Mark “Can we cuddle?” after you finally got high.

 But, as the early morning Sun pours through the foggy windows of Mark’s car, and as his calm breathing stirs you awake, you bask in his scent and his warmth and think, yeah, you two should definitely do this more often.

[jincherie]

florescence | vi

❀ — pairing: taehyung x reader x seokjin ❀ — genre: hybrid au, hybrid tae, hybrid jin, poly au, fluff, smut (future), angst ❀ — words: 4.9k+ ❀ — rating: sfw...ish? ❀ — warnings: everything is smoothing over.... and now that angst is out of the way, oc is having to deal with some thoughts that now have the time to rise to the surface. so um. hickeys and also an almost risque dream ❀ — notes: happy birthday to me!!! i hope u enjoy this!!! every chapter we get closer and closer to the heat!!!!!!

Okay, so maybe you’re lonely, and maybe there is something missing in your life, a void that you maybe want to fill with a companion that may or may not be of human origin… You’re perfectly content not doing anything about it though, until your best friend calls you in desperate need for your help and you suddenly end up coming home with not one, but two hybrids that may or may not have been on the way to the chopping block had you not taken them in. They’re more than a little rough around the edges, and the situation is less than ideal but… maybe the best things don’t always come in perfect, shiny packages. Maybe they just need a little time to bloom.

— posted; 30.03.2020 // masterlist || prev. | next.

It seems that for all your many efforts over the weeks in reassuring the two hybrids that they’re wanted by you and that they can settle down and make this their home, it doesn’t really sink in until after the night you let them scent you.

Which, of course, makes sense considering that was what was making them unsettled in the first place. You knew that letting them do that would return their behaviour to normal, but you weren’t expecting that in the process it would also do a complete one-eighty.

It’s like a switch has been flipped.

The first thing you notice, is that when you all head to bed and you enter your room, closing the door behind you, they seem to hover outside of it for a moment before continuing to their own room. Now, the old you would be thinking why? But! This is the new you, the new-and-improved y/n who knows how to use google when she should! And since you’ve been referring to google and the more trustworthy sites you’ve found, you know that they’re probably battling the urge to be closer to you.

What you mean by that, is that you read that more often than not hybrids prefer to be as close to their owners as possible at all times—and this can also mean that they want to sleep in the same room. It soothes an instinctual part of them, apparently. You can understand it, plus, if you’re being honest…. You’re not as opposed as you should be.

The idea of getting to cuddle with them while you sleep makes you feel warm and gooey inside, but the thing is that after the way things were hinted to be going the other night… you kind of have to chase off more than inappropriate thoughts every time you think about it. You can’t help it! They’re both handsome, sweet boys, and—

You’re gonna stop yourself there.

“I’m home!”

You call out as soon as you enter through the door, an unnecessary act considering they could probably hear you all the way down the street if they really tried. Still, it’s habit. You used to yell it even when no one was here, because it made you feel less lonely. Kind of sad, now you think about it. You hum, reaching the bench and placing your things down on top of the counter.

You’re startled into yelping when thick arms slip around your waist, heat pressing against your back and a face mushing into your neck. The lack of whining tells you it’s Taehyung that has reached you first today, eager to cuddle close until every trace of any other hybrid’s scent is gone. They’ve taken to doing this every time you get home—at first you wanted to protest, since they barely let you get five steps through the door before accosting you, but after seeing how pleased and content they look after, you couldn’t be mad at them for it even if you wanted to.

“Tae,” you hum, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair; your nails run against the back of his ear by accident and something akin to a purr thrums through his chest. He presses his lips to the junction of your neck before nipping it lightly in greeting, arms tightening around your waist fractionally. “I missed you too.”

When he pulls away and moves around to your front, you’re taken aback by how pleased he seems to be that you pinpointed what he was trying to say. His big chocolate eyes with those long, pretty lashes are looking at you so earnestly you can’t help but coo, bringing your hands up to pinch his cheeks. They instantly flush pink beneath your grip.

“So cute,” you coo, grinning as you squish his cheeks like he’s a newborn baby and you’re an aunt who is performing her obligated first cheek-pinch. “My cute baby Tae, I really did miss you so much.”

Teasing him probably isn’t the best way to deal with the sudden overstimulation of your senses at how cute he is, but his reactions are always worth it. He’s growing so bold lately that even though he doesn’t talk still, you almost forget how shy he can be. Blushing, Taehyung steps forward and drops his head, headbutting your shoulder to hide his face. A laugh tumbles from your throat before you can even register it, arms coming up to hold him close. You’re gonna die from a heart attack at his cuteness one of these days, you just know it.

“Where’s Seokjin?” you ask after a moment of holding him, trailing your fingers down his spine soothingly. His tail wags in joy each time you do it.

At your question though, he pulls back, and you’re surprised to see a look of hesitation on his face. You tilt your head, wondering as to the cause of it. “Is he okay?”

Taehyung nods instantly, not wanting you to worry, and seems to make up his mind about whatever he was considering. He slips his hand into yours, entwining your fingers, and tugs you towards the stairs. You follow, letting him lead you easily—this works well with your plans since you wanted to get changed into your pyjamas anyway. You kind of expect him to take you to his room, but your eyes widen when you see him turn and pull you in the direction of yours. You don’t have a name for the light, fluttery feeling that occurs in your stomach.

The door is slightly ajar as you approach and Taehyung goes straight in, pushing it open softly before stepping to the side and halting, a somewhat sheepish expression crossing his face. You see why a moment later.

There, on the edge of your bed closest to the wall, is Seokjin. He’s curled up around the blankets, a blue material you quickly recognise as one of your shirts clutched against his chest as he snoozes. He looks so at peace, cheek mushed against his hand and his hair tousled so endearingly; you’re making your way over before you even realise it.

As you approach and take in the other side of the bed, the comforter rumpled and another shirt laying discarded atop the covers, you surmise that Taehyung must have joined the older male in his nap at some point as well. When you shoot him a knowing look, he purses his lips and averts his eyes somewhat guiltily, making you laugh softly.

“Seokjin,” you say quietly, resting a knee on the bed so you can lean over and nudge the fox’s shoulder. His hand uncurls from his chest and you tickle his palm with your fingers. “Seokjin.”

He grunts softly, smooshing his face into the bed for a moment. Reflexively, his fingers start to curl around your own. You try calling him to wake again, “Seokj—oop!”

The sensation of falling onto the bed has your stomach temporarily being left behind your body as you’re pulled down, arm instantly slipping over your waist. Your cheeks heat, heart thudding so loudly you’re sure Taehyung can hear it; right in front of you is Seokjin’s face, so close that if you leant forward even a centimetre your lips would brush his own. The knowledge has your blood pressure skyrocketing.

A soft sound, almost like a whimper, comes from behind you, and you turn your head to glimpse at the dhole hybrid who still has a hold on your other hand—his expression is almost indecipherable, a mix of fond, jealous, and somehow amused all at the same time. There’s something else in there that melts his citrine irises into dark honey, something that makes your stomach flip instinctively before you push it forcibly from your brain.

Brushing your thumb over his hand to soothe him, you then turn back to his brother and ponder how to proceed. You need to wake him up because, to be honest, you’re hungry as hell and want to sort out dinner already. He has your hand trapped and held against his chest, hugging your arm like a teddy, and so you free your other hand from Taehyung’s grasp (ignoring his soft protest) and bring it to cup his cheek. Admiring his features for a moment, you brush your fingertip down his nose, and then pass your thumb over his cheekbone; even asleep, he nuzzles easily into your touch. Your chest is so warm.

“Seokjin,” you murmur, not wanting to alarm him by being any louder. “Seokjin, wake up please.”

He mumbles unintelligibly, bringing the hand he has in his hold up to his cheek and nuzzling against it—honest to god you think your heart is going to explode like that bird in Shrek when Fiona sings to it. What are you supposed to do with these feelings! There’s so much of them!

Unable to help yourself, you end up channelling it the exact same way you did before. You pinch Seokjin’s cheek, huffing, “Seokjinnie, wake up, I’m hungry.”

Apparently the pinch did the trick, because in the next second he’s cracking his eyes open, blinking blearily. As soon as he catches sight of you—or really, as soon as he registers that it’s you in front of him that he’s been staring at the past few seconds—he freezes, mouth popping open.

He continues staring at you for one, two, three seconds. Then he jerks back like he’s been burned, flinging somewhat haphazardly into a sitting position with a yelped, “y/n!”

You take the opportunity to sit up and climb from the bed now that he’s released your hand, smiling at him cheekily. “Missed me, did you, bub?”

His face erupts into a violent blush, but surprisingly he doesn’t shy away. “No!” he denies, before realising how incriminating his current location and choice of teddy-bear is, and later amending, “… Maybe.”

You laugh, grabbing his hands and pulling him to a stand; fluidly, in the same movement his arms slip around your waist and he curls around you, face going straight to the other side of your neck to perform his daily evening scenting. You allow him until the soft trailing of his nose along your neck tickles too much and you let out a squeak, wriggling out of his hold.

“You guys are gonna kill me one day,” you remark, shaking your head with a smile. Still sleepy, Seokjin returns your smile with a dazed one of his own, his hand coming to clutch your sleeve as you beg to depart from the room. Taehyung rushes ahead to get the door, fluffy russet tail swishing happily behind him. “I missed you both too. What did you get up to today? I mean, besides napping in my bed.”

Seokjin lets out a protest at your teasing, but it doesn’t last long before he’s happily filling you in on the details of the day, running you through its contents in detail. You listen attentively, pulling out utensils and dishes for dinner as you do so. You only pause when Seokjin halts suddenly, and you feel his tentative touch on your elbow.

When you turn to him, it’s a determined, pleading look in his amber-hued eyes that greets you. “Can I cook tonight? I want to learn so I can make dinner for you. You always come back and make it for us after being away most of the day.”

Something akin to fluster creeps under your skin and warms your cheeks—you don’t know what to do with the way his words make your heart throb. “Oh, o-of course. You remember how to make spaghetti?”

At his fervent nodding, you relinquish the items in your hold to him and step back, moving to join Taehyung on the stools at the other side of the counter. Now that he’s gotten his question out of the way, Seokjin resumes his earlier chattering, speaking enough for the three of you. You did have some slight reservations about him cooking by himself, but as you watch you realise that he really has been paying avid attention every time you teach him how to make something. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’d taken notes and studied.

“We wanted to nap on the hammock outside, but it’s not the same without you,” Seokjin pouts, squinting his eyes as he slices onions. “Also, we kind of finished that season of The Dragon Prince without you… sorry.”

“That’s okay,” you answer immediately, before letting out a surprised gasp when something brushes your back. You didn’t even know Taehyung had moved until you feel him pressing against you from behind, slipping his arms over your shoulders to hang slackly and resting his chin on your head. “You’re very cuddly today, Tae.”

“He missed you,” Seokjin supplies without pause, pausing his cutting only to give the younger hybrid a fond look. His peppery tail sways and wags contentedly behind him. “You were gone extra early this morning, and he didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“Ah,” you hum in realisation, tilting your head back to meet Taehyung’s gaze, your hand coming to touch one of the arms hanging over your shoulders. “Sorry, Tae. I’ll make sure to say goodbye in the future.”

To your utter surprise, the dhole hybrid lets out a sound oddly like a mew and a chirp blended into one. He brings his arms to hug your shoulders, face burying into your hair happily; you can feel his ears flick against your head and you focus on that instead of the way his hand had accidentally brushed against your chest when he moved his arm.

“You’re forgiven,” Seokjin informs you, amused. His words bring a smile to your face.

Seokjin is quick and concise while making your dinner, but spends a fair amount of time in the final stages making sure it tastes just right. By the time the food is served and steaming in a bowl in front of you, it’s barely been forty minutes and you’ve never been hungrier. The smell alone in the last twenty minutes has had you salivating consistently.

To Seokjin’s credit, it’s delicious and honestly better than your own cooking. You make sure to tell him so and he blushes, shoving a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth to hide his happy smile. The praise makes him glow with pride for the rest of the evening, Taehyung telling him in his own way that he enjoyed the meal too. You wonder if Seokjin would be interested in looking up other recipes, and make a note to look into finding a recipe book for him.

After eating, the three of you move somewhat lazily to the living room to watch something before you retire. Well, you say that loosely. What really happens as soon as you sit on the lounge is that your two hybrids lay on top of you and command all your attention in the form of cuddles. You’re so happy that things have resumed the way they were, better even. You feel soothed, and surprisingly a little bit giddy with anticipation for how things can only go up from here. As you turn on Netflix and catch up on the series they’d watched without you, you can’t help the way your thoughts stray to what is going to happen as soon as you call bedtime.

Honestly, you haven’t paused and let it sink in that you found Jin napping on your bed earlier. Do they do it often? It would explain a lot—namely the way your bed when you come home would sometimes be in a different way to how you left it in the morning. It also makes sense considering you’ve noticed how drawn they are to your room. It’s not like it’s explicitly out of bounds for them, but you get the sense that to them it’s a topic that they don’t know how to approach yet. You wonder if tonight you will catch them lingering on the way past your door again.

A few hours and several episodes later reveals that the answer is: yes.

You’ve just finished changing into your pyjamas, some shorts and a loose, thin singlet, when you catch familiar shadows moving from underneath your door. You smile, stretching as you make your way to the door as quietly as possible.

When you swing it open and catch two hybrids standing hesitantly outside it, you promptly scare the living daylights out of them.

“Sorry,” you say, grinning at the way Taehyung pouts grumpily at you and Seokjin places a hand over his heart. “Wanna tell me what you’re doing outside my door?”

At your question, their faces draw a blank. Apparently, they hadn’t realised that you noticed their usual lingering.

“Um,” Seokjin bites his lip, canines digging softly into the plump flesh. “No?”

You try not to laugh, for his sake. Your hybrids always blush to easily and while they look cute when they do you kind of wonder if there’s any long-term side effects of having that much blood rush to your head on the regular.

The longer the interaction goes on, the more flustered he gets. “Um. We were just going to bed. Goodnight—”

You don’t miss the way Taehyung smacks his arm, giving him a pointed look, and you decide to be the bolder person in this case. You made a promise to yourself after last time that you were going to be more attentive and proactive, and so here you are! Doesn’t mean you can’t tease them a little while you have mercy on them, though.

“Oh,” you say, letting out a sigh. “Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to sleep in here tonight, but if you want to go to your own bed it’s o—”

The way their eyes light up is almost comical, Seokjin cutting you off hurriedly. “No! No, we don’t want to—I mean, we like our bed, but i-if we can, um, sleep in yours…”

You opt not to say anything, simply stepping back and opening your door to them. They dart inside like they’re scared you’re going to change your mind, diving onto your bed and worming beneath the covers in record timing—you have to laugh as you climb into the space they left you in the middle. Using your remote, you make sure the light is off and your fan is on since you have a feeling you’re going to wake up overheated.

It’s only the fairy lights framing your window that cast a soft, blue glow over the handsome curves of your hybrids’ faces now, both of their eyes trained on you as you settled down onto your back. As soon as you’re comfortable, they dive forward and plant their faces in the respective sides of your neck they’ve claimed.

“Sorry,” Seokjin murmurs after a moment, nosing against your skin and inhaling softly. “It’s… a hybrid thing. Being around your scent is really… calming.”

“Oh,” you say, flustered. “So long as I don’t stink, then. Tell me if I insult your nose.”

“I don’t think you could ever smell bad, y/n,” he confesses lowly, Taehyung humming softly in agreement. The vibrations against your skin almost make you shudder.

“I’m flattered but I can assure you that’s not true,” you laugh, breath hitching as Seokjin buries his face further into your neck, nosing along your hairline.

“Whatever,” he mumbles, wriggling closer and hugging you tight. Taehyung almost fights him for the privilege of having an arm around your waist but settles for looping it over your ribs instead. “Go to sleep, ‘m sleepy.”

You roll your eyes, wondering how you never noticed his sassy streak earlier on, but oblige his request. Its warm in their hold, and as it usually does you find yourself quickly melting into the security of it, sleep coming easily. You pass out, limbs intertwined with those of your hybrids as you all slip into your respective dreams.

x—x—x

About midway through the night you find yourself waking, eyes blinking blearily at the ceiling before you even realise you’ve been roused from sleep. For a moment, you find yourself sifting through the fog of sleep in your mind for the reason why you’ve woken, until you become aware of a sensation at your neck.

It’s wet, you realise belatedly at the feeling of cool air brushing your sensitive skin, but that’s not all. Warmth travels down your spine and your thighs twitch with the urge to move at another sensation, one that takes you another moment to identify.

Someone… is sucking on your neck?

Your brain, even still hazy with sleep, is quick to piece it together after that. It’s Taehyung, soft chitters escaping him as his chest thrums with something akin to a purr against your shoulder. He’s still asleep, you surmise, but even in sleep he’s really ravaging your neck. Each soft suckle of your skin into his mouth is paired with the scrape of his teeth, a shudder fighting to roll down your spine as something a little too synonymous with pleasure shoots through you.

Distantly, you know you should push him off of you, but your head is so fuzzy and your heart is doing a tumble routine in your chest. You go to push him away softly by placing a hand on his shoulder but only end up bunching it in the material of his shirt when he moves lower and huffs before attaching his mouth to the tender junction of your neck and shoulder. The whine that rises in your throat thankfully gets caught before it can escape, your hand sliding up from Taehyung’s shoulder to touch his cheek.

Your finger accidentally brushes his mouth, but what catches you more off-guard is that he immediately detaches his mouth from your neck and goes for your finger instead, the hand wedged between you two holding it to his face as he nibbles and licks the skin there instead, much more gently than he had your neck. You think your heart is about to give out, but now that the sensations aren’t so overwhelming, you find yourself sinking back into sleep once more. You’re so tired, after all, and it’s so warm… it doesn’t take you long at all before you’re snoozing away once more.

x—x—x

When you went back to sleep, you weren’t expecting to be thrown back into a dream—but you have a fleeting realisation, for just a moment, that that’s where you’ve ended up.

Everything is a little foggy.

“you—you won’t… you never…”

You pause—you’re waiting for him to continue. You’re in his room, and you don’t know where Taehyung is. The shower? Maybe. Seokjin is confessing something to you, something to do with his hybrid nature. It filters through your brain—you’ve messed up again, but it’s something different this time…

“Why are you upset, Jin? You scent me, Taehyung scents me. I thought that was what you needed to feel more comfortable? And at ease?” you push softly, prodding for an answer that will finally enlighten you. You’re on the bed now, reaching for his hands—were you on the bed before? You can’t remember, but it somehow makes sense that you’re there now. His hands are startlingly, lucidly warm in your own.

“Y-yes! We do! Because we care about you!” his tone has grown sharper now, voice lower and rougher. “But you—you don’t do it, and you never do it, so how are we supposed to f—”

It clicks into place in your head about midway through his rant, what has got him all bothered this time—the information comes to you like a premonition. A hum escapes you, and you shuffle closer to him on the bed, watching his gaze rest elsewhere. At least, it does until he feels your hands come to his waist where it blends into the sight flare of his hips, material bunching in your grasp.

Maybe its because a part of you can tell that this is far too fuzzy and far-fetched to be real, that this is really just a dream, but something foreign and brazen wells up in you, fills every inch of your body like a hand slipping into a glove. You’ve never had these thoughts before, but at the same time… they don’t feel unfamiliar. The urge you’re feeling isn’t one you recognise but it doesn’t feel out of place.

Even so, when you move you’re surprised by your own boldness—its like you’re only controlling a portion of your own body, and the rest of it is acting out a script you’ve never seen.

“You think I don’t care about you because I haven’t ever scented you, Jinnie?” you ask, tone soft but clear.  His ears flick towards you before flying back, his tail flicking once behind him. His cheeks are a familiar pink, but the heaviness of his golden eyes isn’t something you recognise—you struggle to discern, even in your dreamlike state of omnipotence, exactly what you’re seeing. An optimistic thought whispers across your mind; is it yearning you glimpse? “Even though I tell you every day, and every night, how much you mean to me?”

Seokjin stumbles over his words as he fumbles with his grip on you, eyes wide and stuck on your face. You don’t remember the transition, don’t think it even happened, but his back is pressed to the pillows now, and you hover above him. The soft cotton in your grasp is all too easily pushed up to allow your fingers to brush his skin—wasn’t his shirt different before? It’s not important enough to keep you occupied.

“N-no, I mean y-yes, b-but you—”

“Alright, Seokjin, I understand,” you breathe, meeting his gaze and taking in the way he shudders at your words, confusion flicking across his features. “You want me to scent you? I’ll scent you.”

The poor fox hybrid doesn’t even have a chance to orient himself after those words before you’re swinging a thigh over his hips, knees pressing into the lush bedding. He scrambles to adjust out of instinct, unintentionally helping you in the process as he tips you forward, your face landing against his neck. Immediately, he freezes, the slightest sound catching in his throat, and you know you’re on the right track. Distantly, you realise the dream would have carried you here no matter what.

You allow your arms to slip and embrace him, laying against him for a moment until you feel his racing heart calm just a tad; it’s an odd detail that sticks out to you amongst the fog of everything else. Then, you turn your head and take in a long, deep breath, and it starts thudding frantically away all over again. His hands clutch the material of your shirt tentatively, chest moving yours with it with each inhale.

Realising where your face is pressed, somewhat playfully you smile and hum against the smooth skin of his neck, feeling his whole body shudder beneath you in response. He rasps, voice thick, “y-y/n—”

He doesn’t finish whatever he begins to say, though, because in the next second you’re nuzzling your face against him, tip of your nose brushing the dip beneath his jaw before it’s replaced by your lips. He chokes mid-sentence, breath catching audibly in his throat, and you’ve never been so endeared and… other things, in your life.

Yearning, yearning, yearning—it fills you to the brim and you feel you’re about to overflow.

You don’t give him much of a chance to adjust, especially since you suddenly recall exactly how he was when you first let him scent you, barely a week ago.

At the sudden sensation of your tongue dragging along the flesh beneath his jaw, Seokjin jerks and whines.

You blink your eyes open, the harshness of the sunlight filtering in through the window making you snap them shut once more.

What. The fuck.

The details of the dream are still fresh in your mind, but you can feel them slipping away even as you ease your eyes open to check where you are. Okay, you’re in your room. What just happened, didn’t happen. What even…

As you lay and mull over the contents of your current reality, it sinks in exactly who and what happened in your dream—instantly, your face burns. You’re mortified, and only now do you suddenly recall the two hybrids that had been sharing your bed.

One of which, you just almost had a raunchy dream about.

To your surprise, though, when your gaze flicks to either side of you, the bed is empty of anyone but yourself. Instantly, relief flushes through you. They probably got up to make breakfast, and of course they have no idea about the contents of your dream. You’re just being paranoid because you’re somewhat ashamed right now.

God, you need to repent—but you’ll do that later. In the meantime, you’re just thankful that your two hybrid housemates are none the wiser to the mess that is currently going on in your brain.

Little do you know, that the reason they’d fled your bed early was because of the telling, sweet scent that begin to sink into their senses partway through your dream, and the instincts that had begun to rise within them in response to it.

a/n: happy birthday to me!! please let me know what u think and whether u enjoyed by leaving a like n reblog!!!! <3 <3

masterlist || prev. | next.

[outrebanx]

don’t feel (2)

JJ Maybank x female reader

Masterlist

Part one // -- // Part three // Part four

Summary: A week after the last incident with your parents, you’re invited to a kegger with your friends, and unsurprisingly a fight breaks out (literally an awful chapter summary but my brain is mush so you’re gonna have to deal with it)

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: mentions of abuse, actual abuse, fighting, swearing, (highkey haven’t read through so definitely mistakes)

——- I am in no way romanticising abuse if you have any issues with my writing pls message me

A/N: thank you all for the great response to the first part 🥺 🥰 im not 100% sure how many parts there will be because that involves being organised but anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter :)) (also i promise the next chapter will actually have more JJ in it) and I originally wasn’t gonna spend much time writing before the keg but I got carried away so sorry

“Y/N!” You heard from behind you, turning around you’re met with the smiling face of Topper Thornton running up to you.

“Hey T,” you smiled at him, “You good?”

“Yep, um I was wondering are you free tonight?” He asked, you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Depends on why you’re asking.”

“There’s a kegger at the boneyard tonight and we haven’t spent time together in ages, Kelce wants you to go as well.” He tries to widen his eyes in a pleading manner.

“We haven’t spent time together because you’re always with Rafe now, and you know how I feel about him Topper.”

You turn to walk away, but he catches your arm, “I know, but Rafe won’t be there tonight, it’ll just be like old times, please Y/N.”

You consider his offer for a moment, “He really won’t be there?”

“Nope I promise.”

“Fine. I always like a kegger and you better not break that promise T, or it’ll never be like old times again.”

“Yes ma’am.” He salutes you, you roll your eyes at him, trying to hide your smile.

“See you later then.” You give him a small wave and continue heading to your car.

You, Topper and Kelce grew up thick as thieves and they still held a special place in your heart, but ever since they started hanging out with Rafe you’d grown apart. At first you were always invited to hang with them when they were with Rafe, but it didn’t take long for him to start to creep you out - not only by how he looked at you, but also because when he got angry at something he reminded you of your parents, and you never wanted to hang around someone like that. In truth you did miss them, but your mental health was bad enough without another person like that in your life, so you made other friends, not that you liked them as much.

The drive back to your house was nice, the idea you were seeing your friends again made you feel more relaxed than you had in a while, that was until your house came into view, both your parents’ cars sitting on the drive.

It had been a week since the last incident, and life felt suspiciously normal, you knew it was too good to be true though, your parents always acted like they were sorry after hurting you or Grace, then they would still hurt you again. It was a cycle you hated, but not one you could escape easily.

Obviously you couldn’t ask them to go out tonight so once again you were going to risk sneaking out and hoping for the best.

You took a deep breath and got out of your car, heading towards the door, bracing for the possibility your parents might be in bad moods.

Opening the door, you were met with silence, maybe your mum was already passed out from drinking on the sofa or something, but you were sure as hell going to take advantage of it. You crept through the hallway towards the stairs, checking your dad wasn’t in the kitchen, a sense of relief coming through you when you saw he wasn’t, and made your way up to your room.

You fall onto your bed, sighing and looking at the marks on the ceiling. You must have been tired enough to fall asleep, as the next thing you knew there was a soft knock at your door, rousing you from the calm state you were in, “Y/N,” you heard Grace whisper as her head came around the door.

You lifted your head to smile at her, “Hi.”

When she didn’t answer you sat up properly, taking in her appearance, her eyes were red and puffy, her body slightly hunched over, and her lips quivered. Realisation as to what had happened dawned on you, your heart sinking, “Hey come here,” you opened your arms for her.

Without hesitating she moved into your embrace, your arms sliding around her slim frame, pulling her in even closer when you felt the tears on your shoulder.

You stayed like that, rubbing circles on her back with one of your hands until her tears began to subside, when this happened you pulled back slightly, trying to meet her eyes, “Where?” You asked.

She pointed to her ankles, where they were already swollen and bruising.

You stood up, going to the draw you kept supplies for situations like this and pulled out a cream for the swelling and some bandages to try and support the injury.

You began working on it, “What happened Grace?”

She breathed in, sniffling slightly, “I was getting a drink and Mum asked me to get her some wine,” you clenched your jaw, trying to keep your mouth shut until she finished, “and I went to but she had obviously drank a lot already, so even finishing the bottle there wasn’t much in the glass. And when I gave it to her she thought-“ she hiccuped as the tears began falling again, “she thought I was trying to control how much she drank and she pushed me to the floor, and um I think I twisted my ankle on my way down.”

You couldn’t help but seethe with anger, how dare they hurt her, every time it happened, especially when you weren’t in the house, you couldn’t help but hate your parents - they were awful people who you wished would die sometimes, however bad that thought was to have.

“I’m going to kill them.” You stood up quickly, ready to go downstairs and fight your mum, or dad, hell even both of them.

Grace grabbed your hand, “No you won’t.”

You looked at her, the pain in her eyes making you realise she needed you, “I’m sorry, I just hate them so much, especially when they hurt you when I’m not around.”

“Y/N, I know - this is how I feel when they hurt you.”

“Yeah but I’m the older sister, I’m meant to protect you.”

You sank down next to her on the bed, taking her hand, “I’m meant to protect you Grace.”

She leant into your shoulder, “I love you Y/N but you can’t always protect me.”

Closing your eyes you kiss her hair, “I can try, and I love you too.”

You lay on your bed together, using each other’s presence as a comfort until your phone go off, you grab it and see a message from Topper light up your screen:

T - I’m on my way to pick you up please be ready

“Shit I forgot about that”

Your sister sits up to look at you, “What?”

“I said I’d go to a kegger with Topper earlier, obviously I’m not now.”

“Um yes you are.”

“No I’m not, I’m going to stay with you.”

“No,” your sister gave you a hard look, “Our parents ruin so much of our lives at the moment, you’re going to go have fun, even if I have to push you out the window myself.”

You smile at how stubborn she is, “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, now lets get you ready for Topper.” She says teasingly.

You roll your eyes at her comment, she knows full well you don’t see Topper as anything more than a friend, and she’s always loved to tease you about it.

You end up wearing a small black skirt and a crop top with some red lipstick, ready in time for the next text Topper sent you saying he was at the end of your drive.

“Okay,” you turn to face your sister, “are you sure you’re okay with me going?”

“Yes, now please go.”

“Fine,” you kiss her on her head, and give her a small wave as you climb out your window.

Once you’re in Topper’s car, Kelce jokingly wolf whistling at you, your only response to smile and stick your middle finger up at him.

“It’s been so long since you’ve drank with us I bet your tolerance is shit now Y/N.” Topper smiles from where he’s turned to look at you.

“In your dreams T, I know I could still drink you under the table.” You laugh, sticking out your tongue at him so he could see in the drivers mirror.

By the time you arrived at the boneyard, there were already lots of drunk teenagers stumbling around on the beach, clearly enjoying their night.

Topper clapped his hands together, “Right, let’s have some fun.”

The three of you made your way towards the keg, which tonight was manned by Kiara and JJ, you gave a quick smile to Kie when she handed you your drink, then you looked up at JJ. You had felt his eyes on you as you interacted with Kiara, but only looked at him then, you stared into his blue eyes for what seemed like ages, until Topper took your arm and guided you to where Kelce was sat by the fire.

“How did your exams go then guys?” You asked once you’d sat down.

“Really? We’re at a kegger and you’re asking about exams? You really need to get out more Y/N.” Kelce laughed, nudging your leg with his.

“Fine, what do you want to talk about?”

“Not that.” Topper smirks at you, tossing a coin into your cup.

“Fuck you.” You say before you down the bitter liquid, “Now I’ve got to get another one dipshit.”

As you stand you playfully shove him off the log he’s sat on, and head back towards the keg to get a drink.

This time Kie wasn’t there, only JJ, who you could tell was looking at you as you made your way towards him.

“Uh can I have a refill please?” You hand your red cup to him.

“Wow a kook with manners, that’s almost unheard of.” He smirks at you.

“Unlike the rest of the kooks, you haven’t done anything to make me hate you, yet - so I’ll be nice for now.” You give him a smile and go to reach for your cup, only for him to move it out of your reach, giving you a look you couldn’t decipher.

“What’s your name? I don’t see you around often.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, now can I have my drink?” You say, reaching towards it again.

Before he can say anything else, you hear Topper’s voice from behind you, “Y/N, is this dirty pogue bothering you?”

You can’t help but feel the dread in your stomach, whenever words like that are said there is almost always a fight, and you hate it.

You swivel to look at Topper, “No he’s not, I was just getting a drink,” you try to manoeuvre him away from JJ, not that it was easy, especially when JJ started speaking.

“You know, Topper,” he sneered his name, “she’s her own person you shouldn’t be such a controlling bastard towards her.”

You turned to glare at JJ, but he only grinned at you.

Topper let out something almost like a growl and tackled JJ to the floor.

“For fucks sake, Topper get off him!” You shouted, ready to try and get him off of JJ.

That was until, your head felt like it had been run over by a car, a splitting headache already forming, you looked down to where JJ was being repeatedly punched on the face by Topper, his nose bleeding, and his eyes already beginning to swell up.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. No way is he your soulmate - as far as you know you’ve got nothing in common? And everyone you know hates him, especially because of the fights he gets in. You can feel the stress and tears begin to build at the thought of a life with someone who seemed like he enjoyed fighting, you won’t survive that sort of relationship. Not with how your parents have treated you.

You tried recovering yourself, deep breaths in and out, blocking out the cheers for the fight around you, blocking out the pain in your face as JJ got punched again. And once you’d stopped shaking, you reached forward to try and get Topper off of JJ, for both your sakes apparently.

“Topper! Get the fuck off of him!” You shouted, but as you tried to wrap your arms around him to drag him off, he didn’t move, he was too invested in the fight, not even hearing you apparently - because of this he must have thought you were one of JJ’s friends trying to get him off, so without looking at you, Topper elbowed you in the gut, hard enough you staggered back in pain.

JJ seemed to register the pain you felt, his eyes wide as he looked at you, blood covering his face, but it gave him enough strength to push Topper off of him, and he made his way to you, worry somehow etched on his face even if he was much worse off than you.

Topper seemed to see where JJ was heading, and seeing you bent over, holding your stomach in pain made him realise that he’d hurt you, he pushed past JJ and knelt in front of you.

“Holy shit I’m so sorry Y/N.” His hands were on your cheeks, but you felt nothing, nothing except the tears that now escaped from your eyes.

You removed yourself from his touch, “Don’t fucking come near me Topper.”

You stood up, turning in the sand and began heading off the beach, only to feel Topper grip your arm, “Y/N I’m sorry, please don’t be mad.”

“I said not to touch me!” You shouted, ripping your arm away from him, when you noticed the stares you were getting from other people on the beach you lowered your voice, “It didn’t matter that Rafe didn’t come tonight in the end, because you’re just as bad as him now and I don’t think we should be friends anymore.”

He stared at you wordlessly, shock and hurt written on his face - not that you cared right now, he had hurt you, maybe by accident yes, but he knew about your home life and because he lost control, you wanted to hate him and never see him again.

He let you walk off that time, passing Kelce who looked like he wanted to talk to you but instead went over to Topper.

When you got to the road you realised you’d now have to walk home, so you quickly shook the sand out of your shoes then headed down the road in the direction of your house.

It was only a minute until you got interrupted again, “Hey Y/N,” JJ shouted from where he was running to catch up with you.

God you didn’t want to deal with this tonight but he’d probably just follow you home if you didn’t talk to him.

So you turned to face him, “What?”

“Are you okay?”

“Are you?” You raised your eyebrows at him, he’d been the one to get beaten up properly after all.

“I’ve had worse.” He shrugged, then rubbed the back of his neck, looking at you shyly “but um I felt your pain which means you must’ve felt mine and you know what that means.”

“Right now it means nothing JJ, I can’t deal with this tonight so please, leave me alone.”

He could obviously see how rough you felt, you were pretty sure you were still crying, and you were tired, so tired, and falling out with topper was one thing, but also realising your fucking soulmate was JJ Maybank was just something you couldn’t handle tonight.

He raised his hands, “Okay we’ll talk about this at some point, and I am so sorry Y/N, truly.” His eyes were shining slightly, but you could tell he was being genuine.

You nodded and turned around again to head home, leaving him at the side of the road.

You weren’t sure how long the walk home took, it seemed to pass in minutes with the number of thoughts that were racing through your head, it was as if you were on autopilot, climbing the trellis with ease, not even thinking where you were putting your hands and feet.

You were so out of it, you didn’t even realise your bedroom light was on, when you hadn’t turned it on before you left, so when you climbed into your room the last thing you expected to see was your mum and dad sitting on your bed with their arms crossed, expressions of pure anger on their faces.

(feel like this isnt my best but I am enjoying writing it also there might be fluff at some point but certainly not the next chapter whoops)

Part three

Tag list: @outerbongs​ @jjaybank @bailspogue @outerbankslut @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @alexa-playafricabytoto @teamnick @k-k0129 @do-not-talk-to-me-i-am-awkward @thoughtsofthestars @http-cherries @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @thesurfingsnail @lonely-kermit @oopsiedoopsie23 @overly-b​ @lus-shh @xlittlemissydjx @asaks6082 @copper-boom @danicarosaline @deathcompass @jellyfishbeansontoast @butterfliesinthenightsky @iamaunicorn4704 @my-soul-is-the-moon @diverrdown @thorsangel @saintkore @prejudic3 (please tell me if I’ve missed someone cos I’m dumb and it’s late)