#i love an overhead shot it must be said

[muirneach]

[seongwars]

strangers by nature | v

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Rating: NC-17 Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 6.4K Warnings: a little angst, mentions of stalking, one swear word, only 50% proofread because of the holidays, panic attack

Fic Masterlist | Taglist Signup

a/n: I struggled to write this chapter, but things will definitely be picking up soon! as always feedback is appreciated! i love reading everyone's thoughts!

The faint jingling of the bell announced your arrival as you stepped into the cozy coffee shop. Mingi trotted in behind you, his tiny paws clicking against the tiled floor. Heads turned almost immediately, and the quiet murmur of conversation gave way to coos and giggles.

“Look at that dog!”

“He’s so cute!”

Mingi puffed up his chest, his little tail wagging in satisfaction as he soaked in the admiration. His tail wagged in satisfaction, a clear sign that he was enjoying the attention. Someone nearby pulled out their phone, angling for a picture, while another patron whispered to their friend about how much he resembled a fluffy toy.

Despite his tiny form, he still had his ego intact. He strutted a few steps ahead of you, taking in the praise from others. 

“I’ll get us something quick,” you muttered to him, scratching behind his ears. He gave a soft huff, clearly not impressed with the idea of waiting, especially when a cup of whip cream was to be had. 

You straightened and made your way to the counter, your eyes scanning the menu overhead. Behind you, Mingi entertained his growing fan club, a gaggle of customers marveling at his antics as you stepped aside to wait for your order. 

“Y/N?”

Turning, you were greeted by the sight of Park Seonghwa standing near the condiment bar, a takeaway cup in one hand and the other tucked into his pocket. It was rare to see the heir to Park Enterprises out and about like this, given his reputation for being both elusive and endlessly busy. That fact that he was here at all felt oddly serendipitous.

“Hey, Seonghwa.”

His smile widened slightly, and he took a step closer. “Fancy running into you here.”

“Yeah, I’m on the way to the hospital to stay with Mingi. Just stopping by to grab coffee before heading over.”

As if on cue, Maro let out a sharp bark, turning Seonghwa’s attention downward. His brows lifted in surprise and delight as he took in the tiny, proud pup sitting at your feet.

“Mingi let you have a dog?”

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated. “Well... not exactly,” you admitted, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. 

“It’s...complicated.”

“Complicated, huh?”

Still, the thought lingered in your mind: would you have to give up your puppy once Mingi woke up? Maro had simply happened, and now you couldn’t imagine not having him around.

“I found him,” you blurted. “Or, I guess, he found me.”

Seonghwa’s gaze lingered on Maro, his expression softening slightly before he returned his attention to you. 

“Knowing Mingi,” he said carefully, “I can’t imagine he’d be thrilled about this.”

You laughed, though it came out a little strained. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t exactly have a say right now.”

The humor in the moment dissipated almost immediately. Seonghwa’s teasing expression softened, giving way to something more serious. 

“How is he?” he asked quietly.

“The same,” you admitted. “No changes yet.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice so low it barely reached you over the hum of the coffee shop. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”

You nodded, lips pressing into a tight line as you fought the sudden swell of emotion in your chest. 

“If you need company at the hospital,” he offered, “just let me know.”

Now hold on! Mingi growled, his tiny body stiffening. His big brown eyes locked onto Seonghwa, narrowing as much as his puppy face would allow. Park Seonghwa, for all his charm was still Park Seonghwa, a man with a reputation whose commitment issues rivaled Mingi’s own. 

You glanced up at him, managing to raise an eyebrow as you struggled to muster a semblance of a smile. His offer, so simple yet so unexpectedly kind, caught you off guard.

“Is it because your family owns Hala Medical?”

“Maybe,” he replied, his tone playful as though he could sense you needed the levity.

Mingi didn’t care how successful Seonghwa’s family was in healthcare, or how much he was trying to play the concerned friend right now. He wasn’t going to let him swoop in with his perfect hair, stupid face, and infuriatingly genuine smile to worm his way into your life while he was stuck in a coma, unable to defend himself.

And you’re a married woman! If Seonghwa thought he could charm his way past that little detail, Mingi was more than ready to remind him otherwise. The puppy let out another indignant bark. You shot him a quick look, tilting your head in confusion. 

“What’s with you?” you muttered softly, rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him.

Mingi growled louder this time, his tiny body practically vibrating with the effort. Did Seonghwa think he was fooling anyone? Mingi was onto him, and he wasn’t going to let the infamous Park Seonghwa forget that you were spoken for.

“Don’t mind him,” you said with a sheepish laugh, shifting Mingi in your arms. “He gets like this sometimes. It’s all that puppy energy.”

Seonghwa raised a brow, his lips twitching with amusement as he leaned slightly closer. “Protective, huh?” he remarked, his tone light. 

“Guess he has good instincts.”

Of course I do! Mingi thought, puffing out his little chest. If he’d had hands instead of paws, he’d have already swung on Seonghwa for good measure. A man like Seonghwa didn’t just casually offer to visit hospitals out of the goodness of his heart. No, he had an angle, and Mingi was determined to sniff it out.

Still, you were oblivious to the growing tension between the two males. “I should grab my order,” you said, glancing toward the counter and adjusting your grip on Mingi. 

“I need to get there before visiting hours are over.”

Seonghwa nodded, stepping aside with a gracious smile. “Of course. Don’t let me keep you.”

Mingi let out another low growl, shooting one last withering glare at Seonghwa as you turned your attention back to the counter. As far as the pomeranian was concerned, this wasn’t over. 

⋆

Yeosang’s car rolled to a stop in front of the hospital. As soon as the door opened, Mingi’s tiny legs worked furiously as he darted toward Yeosang, his fluffy tail wagging so hard it looked like he might fly away.

“Hey buddy,” Yeosang chuckled, scratching behind Mingi’s ears before scooping him up. “You ready for another sleepover?”

Hetmon barked from the backseat, his paws resting on the window. Let’s go already!

“Thanks so much for meeting me here! Sorry today’s drop off is a little out of the ordinary,” you said, handing Yeosang a bag of baked goods from the coffee shop.

“No worries. It actually works out great! Having the park between my apartment and the hospital is pretty convenient. I told Hetmon we’d stop by and let him and Maro run around before heading home.”

“You’re a lifesaver, I can’t thank you enough. Hetmon is more than welcome to stay with us whenever he’d like.”

“Careful, he might take you up on that offer and never want to come home.”

Laughing, you bent down to give Mingi a kiss between his fluffy ears. “Be good for Uncle Yeosang, okay?” Mingi gave an enthusiastic bark in response, his tail wagging so furiously it made his whole body wiggle.

“Thanks again. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With a final wave, you turned and headed toward the hospital, glancing back once to see Maro already pawing at Yeosang’s leg, eager to get going.

Once they reached the dog park, Mingi wasted no time. The moment Yeosang unclipped his leash, the little pomeranian shot off like a rocket. He barked gleefully, weaving through the open field with such speed that even larger dogs stopped to watch in astonishment.

Hetmon trotted after him at a more measured pace, as if he knew Mingi would wear himself out eventually. Finally, the puppy skidded to a stop under the shade of a tree, panting dramatically as the doberman joined him, settling down onto the grass with a huff. But before Hetmon could catch his breath, Mingi launched into a tirade.

“So, get this,” Mingi began, his tiny voice surprisingly serious despite the constant wagging of his tail. He paced in front of Hetmon, his little legs moving with purpose. 

“There’s this guy. His name is Seonghwa, and he was hitting on Y/N at the coffee shop.”

Hetmon tilted his head, his ears perking up. “Seonghwa? Who’s that?”

“He’s not important,” Mingi snapped, spinning around dramatically. “What’s important is that he thinks he can just charm his way into Y/N’s heart.”

“Well, if he’s not important, why are we talking about him?”

“Because!” Mingi barked, “He’s literally perfect and I don’t want Y/N to replace me! She’s my wife and I… I…”

His voice faltered, the words catching in his throat as if saying them aloud might make them too real. His paws stilled mid-step, and he froze, staring down at the ground.

Love her.

Was this love really his? Or was it just some puppy instinct to adore the person who cared for him?

He thought of the way you’d let him curl up in bed with you, ignoring how much space his small, fluffy frame somehow managed to take up. You always tucked the blankets around him, murmuring something soft and sweet. He felt safe there, pressed close to you, as though nothing could hurt him as long as he was with you.

He thought about how you scratched behind his ears, those tender moments when he’d rest his head on your lap. You’d tell him, you love him and each time, he could feel it in your voice, in your touch. It wasn’t just words. 

You meant it.

You didn’t just care for him. You saw him. You saw past all his flaws–his arrogance, his pride, and you still stayed. Even as he was in a coma, you chose him. 

And if that wasn’t love, what was?

“I don’t want to lose her,” Mingi admitted, his voice trembling. 

He sank onto his haunches, his tail lying limp against the ground. Yet, the act of speaking them aloud released something within him. It was like stepping into the sun after years of darkness. 

It wasn’t just the loyalty of a pet. It wasn’t just some fleeting puppy affection. It was real. He loved you. 

But love, he realized bitterly, came with its own demons. It came with fear, sharp and gnawing. The fear that you’d leave him. The fear that one day, you’d look at him and realize you deserved better.

Mingi's chest tightened, his breaths coming out in short, shallow huffs. What if you already realized it? What if the only thing keeping you by his side was pity? That thought was unbearable. 

His tail gave a tentative wag, hesitant at first but growing stronger as he allowed himself to lean into the feeling. It wasn’t just relief. It was hope.

“I love her,” he declared, this time with a small smile. 

“Aww, look who’s grown a heart.”

Mingi’s ears perked up, and he whirled around to see Wooyoung perched on a low-hanging branch, his black tail swishing lazily. The cat’s eyes twinkled with amusement, his signature smirk in place. 

“It’s the cat!” Hetmon barked excitedly, bounding over to the tree with his tail wagging furiously. He let out another bark, practically vibrating with energy as Wooyoung hopped down from the branch. 

“What are you doing here?” Mingi narrowed his eyes to gaze at the Judge. 

“Am I not allowed to congratulate you? You’re knocking these tasks out in record time” he drawled, arching his spine and flexing his claws. “Touching confession, by the way.”

Mingi puffed up, his fur fluffing indignantly. “What do you want?”

Wooyoung stood, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder with his paw. “I came to remind you that there’s more work to be done. The little girl? That was only task two. Don’t get too comfortable.”

Mingi scowled, his fluffy tail flicking in irritation. “I know that. You don’t need to remind me.”

“But it’s so entertaining,” Wooyoung shot back, his grin widening mischievously. 

“Watching our little hero overcome life’s obstacles for love.”

Then, to Mingi’s surprise, Wooyoung’s expression softened, his usual smirk giving way to something quieter and more thoughtful. 

“Look,” he said, his voice dropping to something almost gentle, “you did well.”

Mingi blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in Wooyoung’s demeanor.  

“You’ve got more heart than you give yourself credit for. You’re capable of putting someone else’s needs before your own. That you can be selfless when it matters.”

Selfless. That wasn’t a word he’d ever used to describe himself. In his human life, everything had been about him: his ambitions, his comforts, his endless need for validation. If something didn’t serve his desires, he’d ignored it, or worse, pushed it away.

He had been selfish. He could see that now, clear as day, and the realization stung. He’d hurt people—hurt you. He’d dismissed your efforts, neglected your feelings, and then, when things fell apart, he had blamed you. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Mingi asked finally, his voice quieter than he intended.

“Because, as much as I enjoy giving you a hard time, I’d rather see you win. For her, but also for you.”

For a moment, Mingi didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t used to this side of Wooyoung—supportive, almost kind. It threw him off balance, but at the same time, it felt…good.

He swore he’d work harder, not just to make things right, but to make you happy. This wasn’t just about earning back his humanity, it was about earning back your trust, your happiness, and maybe, if he was lucky, your forgiveness.

“Hetmon! Maro! Let’s go home!” 

Clutching their leashes in hand, Yeosang hurried toward the dogs, crouching down to clip the leashes onto their harnesses. As they started toward the park’s exit, Yeosang cast one last glance over his shoulder, his jaw tightening. 

“Excuse me?”

Yeosang turned, his usually calm expression darkening as he took in the middle-aged woman approaching him. Her clothes were simple and unremarkable, but her presence carried an unsettling air. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of desperation and misplaced affection that made Yeosang’s skin crawl.

“Can I help you?” he asked flatly, keeping his tone polite but distant.

“C-Can you tell me more about that dog?” she asked, pointing to Mingi. Her voice quivered, but it wasn’t the kind of nervousness Yeosang could dismiss as harmless. It felt...like she was trying too hard to seem unassuming.

“He’s just a pomeranian.”

“Oh, it’s just...he’s so unique.” 

Her smile was tight, forced, and her hands fidgeted restlessly at her sides. “I couldn’t help but notice him. Where did you get him? He’s not from around here, is he?”

Yeosang stiffened, his instincts screaming at him to end the conversation. “I can ask his owner for more information, but—”

“Owner?” she interrupted, her eyes widening slightly. “Oh, so he’s not yours?” She took a step closer, her gaze fixed intently on Mingi. 

“No, but I’m sure you can find a pomeranian for adoption if you reach out to your local shelter.”

But the woman didn’t seem to hear him. Her eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity, and her smile grew wider, almost manic. 

“What about the girl?”

Yeosang’s eyes narrowed. “What girl?”

“The one who owns him,” the woman said, her gaze shifting between Yeosang and Mingi. Her expression softened into something disturbingly wistful.  

“My daughter.”

Yeosang froze, his heart thudding in his chest. “Your daughter?” he echoed, his voice flat and cold, masking the unease creeping up his spine.

The woman nodded, her smile growing wider but no less unsettling. “She’s grown into such a lovely young woman, hasn’t she?”

Yeosang’s grip on the leashes tightened, as he scanned his surroundings for any sign of Hetmon and Mingi. The two were playing under a tree, which was a relief. He took a deliberate step back, placing himself between the woman and the dogs. 

“That’s none of your business,” he said sharply.

But the woman didn’t seem to notice his hostility—or chose to ignore it. “Is she married? Does she live nearby? Does she walk the dogs often?”

Yeosang felt his patience snap. His usually calm demeanor was replaced by a simmering anger. Who was this woman?

“Listen to me. You’re asking invasive, inappropriate questions about someone you don’t know. That’s not curiosity, that’s stalking.”

The woman’s smile faltered but she quickly recovered, her expression twisting into something defensive. 

“I didn’t mean any harm,” she replied, though her tone lacked sincerity. “I just wanted to know more about my daughter. I haven’t seen her in over twenty years ever since her father took her away from me!” Her voice rose on the last part, as if she were struggling to contain an outburst. 

“I don’t know what your problem is, but if I ever see you here again, or if you go anywhere near…your daughter, I won’t be this polite.”

For a moment, there was silence. Her hands trembled slightly, and her breath quickened, but she didn’t speak. Instead, her gaze flickered over to the dogs, then back to Yeosang. With a sharp exhale, she finally turned on her heel, her movements stiff with rage. She stalked off, muttering under her breath, her words inaudible but tinged with frustration.

He watched her retreat, his eyes following her until she was out of sight, and only then did he allow himself to relax slightly. Clutching their leashes in hand, Yeosang hurried toward the dogs, crouching down to clip the leashes onto their harnesses. 

“Hetmon! Maro! Let’s go home!” 

Yeosang kept his eyes scanning the park’s perimeter, making sure the woman didn’t return. His thoughts kept circling back to her, the way she’d spoken about you, referring to you as her daughter. 

He shook his head, trying to push the unsettling thoughts away but the voice in the back of his head kept telling him that you were in trouble. Gripping the leashes a little tighter, Yeosang quickened his pace, the dogs trotting happily at his side as he rushed home. He had to let you know that something was amiss and that you were possibly in danger. 

⋆

You sighed, stretching your stiff muscles as you laid on the sofa. It had been about a month and a half since Mingi’s accident, and the doctors still hadn’t seen any improvement in his condition. The days blurred together–you’d get up, take Maro out, feed him, get ready for your day, check in on the foundation, before contemplating your existence. 

The sofa you’d claimed as your makeshift bed creaked faintly as you shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, though it did little to chase away the cold.

“Found you.”

The voice broke the silence, and you startled, jerking upright as your heart raced. Blinking against the dim light of the hallway, your eyes landed on a figure standing a few feet away.

“Seonghwa?”  

His dark suit was impeccably tailored, his shoes polished to a mirror shine, and his hair so flawlessly styled that you doubted anything about him had ever been out of place. Even now, standing in the dim, unflattering light of the hospital, he looked more suited for the cover of a magazine than the depressing private suite of your comatose husband. Park Seonghwa and his stupidly perfect face and personality, everyone would say. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice still low, more out of habit than necessity.

“I had a meeting with the board,” he said, stepping into the room as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

“At 9 at night?” you asked, eyebrows raising in disbelief.

“Hospital boards don’t keep regular hours,” he replied easily, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

You frowned, pulling your blanket tighter around yourself. “I didn’t think hospitals held board meetings this late.”

“They usually don’t,” he admitted, taking another step closer. “But some discussions can’t wait.” His gaze swept over the room, lingering briefly on the sofa before settling back on you. 

“And what about you? Shouldn’t you be at home? Or at least in an actual bed?”

“I told you,” you muttered, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. “I’m staying with Mingi.”

His expression softened, though the concern in his eyes remained. “You’ve been staying here for weeks, haven’t you?”

“Isn’t that a violation of patient privacy?” you shot back, crossing your arms defensively.

Seonghwa’s lips twitched into the faintest smirk. “First, you’re not a patient. Secondly, news spreads fast when your mother-in-law is…your mother-in-law.”

The mention of her made your jaw tighten instinctively, your grip on the blanket pulling it tighter around you like a shield. You didn’t want to sound ungrateful, she cared in her own way, you supposed. But it was hard not to feel resentment every time you were left to sit by Mingi’s side alone, her absence a glaring reminder of how much he’d been left to you to shoulder.

“I just don’t like the idea of him being left alone.”

“Running yourself into the ground won’t help Mingi. If anything, it’ll make things harder for him, and for you.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he held up a hand, stopping you.

“Humor me,” he said. “When was the last time you did something for yourself?”

You hesitated. You opened your mouth again, searching for a reply—something to prove him wrong—but the words wouldn’t come. Because the truth was…you couldn’t remember.

When was the last time you did something for yourself? Getting coffee with Jiwoo and Jongho didn’t count. The same thing goes with taking Maro out for a walk or hanging out with Yeosang and Hetmon. No, those moments weren’t for you. They were distractions at best, small glimpses of normalcy in the chaos, but they hadn’t been about you.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice softer now. He straightened, motioning toward the door. 

“Come on.”

“Come on where?” 

“For a walk,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“In the middle of the night? In a hospital?”

“My family owns the hospital,” he said, glancing over his shoulder with a faint smirk. “And you need fresh air.”

You stared at him. For a moment, you contemplated saying no, coming up with an excuse to stay planted on the sofa in the darkness of the suite. But the weight of his gaze and his stupid handsome face left little room for argument. 

“Fifteen minutes,” he added softly. “That’s all I’m asking.”

The courtyard was quiet, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of city life. He walked beside you at a leisurely pace, his hands in his pockets, giving you room to gather your thoughts.  

“So,” he said finally, “How are you?”

You blinked, glancing at him. “What?”

He turned his head slightly to meet your gaze. “How are you doing?” he repeated.

The question caught you off guard. Not because it was strange or unwelcome, but because it had been so long since anyone had asked you that. Really asked. 

“I’m fine,” you replied, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“Try again.”

You frowned, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “I said I’m fine,” you repeated, your tone sharper now.

His lips quirked at the corners, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “And I said try again.”

Your frustration flared, but before it could boil over, Seonghwa leaned back against the edge of the fountain, crossing his arms. He took a moment to study you. You were always a little strange, he thought, but not in a bad way. It was in a way that made you stand out amongst the world of the elite. 

You lived in a world of sharp edges, where power was everything, and kindness was a weakness waiting to be exploited. Yet, amidst the cutthroat games of high society, you wore your heart plainly. Somehow, you remained standing, untouched by the corrosive allure of wealth and status. It wasn’t rebellion that set you apart, it was something gentler, something more enduring.

Seonghwa had always admired this about you, even from afar, catching glimpses through the whispers of your peers.

His voice was softer when he spoke again. “You don’t have to tell me everything,” he said. “But don’t lie to me either. You’re not fine.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words were caught in your throat. Instead, you sighed in response, stuffing your hands deeper into the pockets of your jacket. Seonghwa didn’t push, though his gaze lingered for a moment longer before he glanced away.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence again, this time with a lighter tone. “What’s the plan when Mingi wakes up?”

“I haven’t thought about it,” you admitted quietly. “I’m just…focusing on what’s in front of me right now.”

“You’re running yourself ragged for someone who might not do the same for you.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t have empathy for him.”

Seonghwa let out a low hum, his expression thoughtful. “No,” he agreed, his voice almost a murmur. “It doesn’t. But you’re allowed to have empathy for yourself too.”

“You’re too good for our world,” he added. When your eyes flicked to his, he gave you a small, almost wistful smile. 

“You don’t belong in all this chaos, Y/N. You’ve always been…strange.” 

“I get that alot,” you scoffed. “You’re not the first one to point that out.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because people like you get hurt the most in a world like this.”

You turned to look at him, startled by how sincere he was. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say, your arsenal of witty comebacks failing you. Seonghwa wasn't pitying you nor was he being condescending. He was acknowledging you, comforting you. Reminding you that compassion was a strength and it was something you were worthy of receiving, too.

“Is this…” you started, trying to mask the slight tremor in your voice with a teasing tone, “is this part of that charm you’re so infamous for?”

Seonghwa’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Infamous?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smirk and crossing your arms over your chest to regain some sense of control. 

“Your reputation almost rivals Mingi’s.” You hesitated, your voice dipping just slightly as you added, “but, you know, with fewer tantrums.”

“Fewer tantrums, huh? Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?”

You shrugged, feigning indifference, though the teasing glint in his eyes made it harder to keep a straight face. 

“Take it however you want,” you replied lightly.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his grin softening as his tone shifted. “But seriously, you know I’m always around, if you need someone. I mean it.”

You instinctively raised your hand, wiggling your fingers to display your wedding ring. “I’m a married woman.”

“Take it however you want,” he teased, throwing your own words back at you with a wink. “But the offer stands.”

You stared at him, momentarily stunned. Was he genuinely offering support? Or was he trying to make a move on you? Before you could figure out how to respond, the shrill ring of your phone caught you off guard.

Your gaze dropped to the screen, where Yeosang’s name lit up. Grateful for the interruption, you glanced back at Seonghwa with a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

He nodded, leaning back with an easygoing shrug, though his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer.

“Hey Yeosang.”

“Hey! How’s the hospital?”

“Same old,” you replied with a sigh. “Nothing’s really changed with Mingi.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he said, and you could feel the genuine sympathy in his voice. “Maro and Hetmon are all tucked in and asleep in the fort, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure, what’s this about?” you asked, your posture straightening as a flicker of worry crept in.

Yeosang hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Your mother…is Kim Youngji, right? Former Jinhit heiress?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t she be?”

“Well…” Yeosang’s voice lowered, and you could hear the tension creeping in. “There was this strange woman at the park asking questions about Maro like where you got him and whatnot. At first, I thought she was just a dog lover, you know? Interested in him because he’s such a unique breed or something. But then…”

“Then what?” you pressed.

“She started asking about you,” Yeosang said, his voice laced with unease. “And not in a casual way. She was way too specific, Y/N. She claimed you were her daughter.”

“What!?” you exclaimed, your voice rising in disbelief. The absurdity of his words collided with a chilling sense of unease. You looked over to Seonghwa, who had stepped closer, his brow furrowed with concern. 

“She kept pressing,” Yeosang continued, his frustration clear in the clipped tone of his voice. “Her questions got more invasive. She asked if you were married, if you lived nearby, if you were the one who walked Maro most of the time. And then…” He paused, his voice dropping lower. 

“Then she said your dad took you away from her. Like she was claiming he took you away in a custody battle.”

Your heart sank further, a cold knot forming in your stomach. “She said that?”

“Yeah. That’s when I lost my shit. I told her to get lost, grabbed the dogs, and got out of there as fast as I could. But…I have a bad feeling about this, Y/N.”

Your grip on the phone tightened, and you felt Seonghwa’s gaze on you. He didn’t say anything, but the slight tilt of his head reminded you that he was there if you needed him. 

“Thanks for letting me know,” you said finally, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’ll…I’ll talk to my mom about it. Maybe she’ll have some idea of who this woman is.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Yeosang agreed, though his tone remained cautious. “But be careful, okay? Whoever she is, she didn’t seem stable. Take your time with pick up tomorrow.”

“I appreciate that,” you said quietly, “Thanks for looking out for the puppies.”

The call ended, leaving a tense silence in its wake. You lowered the phone, exhaling a shaky breath as you tried to process what you’d just heard. The threat felt closer now, less like a shadow lurking in the background and more like a storm rolling toward you.

“Everything okay?” Seonghwa asked. 

“Yeah…It’s getting late, I should head back.”

Turning on your heel, you made your way back toward the suite, your steps slower now, the conversation playing on a loop in your head. Every shadow seemed sharper, every sound amplified. You tried to focus on the steady rhythm of your breathing, but the sound of Yeosang’s voice wouldn’t leave you.

“Maro! My baby!” you cooed as Mingi bounded toward you. You scooped him up, burying your face in his fur as his excited yips filled the air.

Yeosang stood nearby, a faint smile softening the tension on his face. He held onto Hetmon’s leash, but his gaze kept darting toward the park’s edges, his encounter the day before still fresh. 

“How was he?” you asked, squishing a very happy Mingi against your face. 

“An angel as always,” Yeosang chuckled, scratching the Hetmon between the ears. 

You smiled, but the way his attention flickered nervously to the surrounding trees didn’t escape you. Setting Maro back on the ground, you straightened up, crossing your arms. “What’s wrong? You’ve been on edge since I got here.”

“Just making sure she isn’t lurking around,” Yeosang said, his tone low and cautious. 

“I think she knows more about you than she let on. When she saw Maro yesterday, she called you ‘the girl who owns him.’” He paused, glancing at Maro, who was sniffing the grass. 

“She’s seen him before—maybe even followed you.”

“What did she look like?” you asked. 

“Maybe… mid-forties? Dark hair, pulled back into a ponytail. She had a dark coat, but it wasn’t even that cold yesterday.” He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he recalled the encounter. “And her eyes… She had this deranged look, like she was completely convinced of whatever twisted story she’s telling herself.”

A shiver ran down your spine. You crouched beside Maro, stroking his fur absentmindedly as you tried to process Yeosang’s words. You tried to recall where you’ve seen or heard that description before. But you couldn’t quite figure out where. 

Mingi lifted his head, his nose twitching as an unusual scent wafted through the park. His tail stilled, and his ears perked up, alert to the approaching presence. 

There was a hint of coffee, Black Opium, the faintest whiff of ink and…multiple affairs. The pomeranian’s eyes narrowed, his small body tense as a low growl rumbled from his chest. His gaze snapped to the pathway ahead, where a figure was approaching, and his growls turned to a sharp bark.

You glanced down at him in confusion. “Maro?” you asked, crouching to stroke his head.

Mingi’s growl softened slightly at your touch, but he stayed on high alert, his fluffy frame taut with suspicion. He sniffed the air again as Seonghwa came into view, his presence impossible to ignore.

“Seonghwa?” you said, surprised, turning to find him approaching you and Yeosang. “What are you doing here?”

How convenient Mingi thought bitterly, his gaze never leaving the man. His barks grew more insistent, clearly directed at Seonghwa now.

“Just on my way to grab coffee. Hospital coffee isn’t exactly the best,” Seonghwa explained casually, though his attention drifted to Mingi, who looked seconds away from launching himself at him.

“I see someone’s still not a fan,” he quipped.

“Sorry about that,” you muttered, crouching again to pick up Mingi. “He’s usually so well-behaved.”

Mingi huffed indignantly in your arms, clearly disagreeing with your assessment. Meanwhile, Hetmon, who had been lounging nearby suddenly perked up. His ears twitched, and his nose wriggled as if catching a scent in the air.

Oh no, Maro’s upset, I can feel it. Seonghwa? Is that Seonghwa? The one who was trying to hit on Y/N? The one who almost took her away from Maro? When my friends are upset, it’s my job to help. That’s what I do, I help. Because I’m a good friend!

Time seemed to slow as Hetmon sprung forward, charging toward his unsuspecting target, his powerful frame sending Seonghwa stumbling backward. The man’s eyes widened in surprise as he fell, the force of the impact knocking him off balance. A muffled thud followed as Seonghwa hit the ground, his suit jacket crumpling beneath him. Hetmon stood triumphantly on his chest, barking loudly in satisfaction.

“Hetmon, get off of him!” Yeosang rushed forward, his laid back demeanor replaced by outright horror at the sight of his usually gentle dog standing on Seonghwa’s chest, unrepentant.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he grabbed Hetmon’s harness. “I have no idea what got into him. He’s never done anything like this before.”

A few steps away, Mingi wiggled out of your arms and trotted over to the scene. His tail wagged furiously, his eyes glinting with smug satisfaction as he gave a sharp, triumphant bark. It was clear he approved of Hetmon’s intervention.

You stepped forward to help Seonghwa, stifling a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Behind you, Hetmon and Mingi sat like a united front of mischief, but your smile faltered as an icy sensation crawled down your spine. The air felt heavy, like an unseen gaze pressing watching you, and your chest tightened as your thoughts scattered.

Mingi’s ears flicked and let out an uneasy bark. He sensed it too—something was off.

“I should probably get going,” you said abruptly, your voice wavering despite your best efforts to steady it. 

Both Seonghwa and Yeosang turned to you, concern etched across their faces, but you avoided their eyes, focusing instead on scooping up Mingi. Your legs felt unsteady, each step toward the park’s exit requiring more effort than the last.

“Y/N! Wait, is everything okay?” Seonghwa called after you.

You glanced back just long enough to nod, offering a weak, unconvincing smile before hurrying away. The icy sensation prickling at the back of your neck refused to dissipate, no matter how much distance you put between yourself and the park.

When you reached your car, your hands fumbled with the keys, dropping them twice before you finally managed to unlock the door. You slid inside, slamming it shut and locking it with trembling fingers.

Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to calm yourself, gripping the steering wheel tightly in a futile attempt to ground yourself. Mingi whined softly, climbing into your lap and pressing a paw to your chest. His warm, steady presence was a quiet reminder to breathe, to focus. You closed your eyes, taking shaky, uneven breaths, trying to mimic the calm he radiated.

“Just breathe,” you whispered to yourself, though it sounded more like a plea than a command. Breathe. 

Mingi’s paw stayed firmly on your chest, nuzzling against your chin. If he could, he’d wrap you in his arms and take away all the fear and panic that had overtaken you. He hated seeing you like this, scared, fragile, and hurting, and he wanted to do more. He needed to do more to make sure he could shield you from the world. 

The tears came slower now, the overwhelming panic easing into a dull ache in your chest. You rested your forehead against Mingi’s, whispering a soft, broken “thank you.” He nudged you, promising that he wouldn’t let anything harm you, not while he was by your side.

You closed your eyes and leaned back against the seat, still stroking his fur as he rested against you. “Let’s go home,” you murmured softly, smiling down at your puppy. Mingi’s tail wagged and his ears perked up at your words.

Yeah, let’s go home.

<< iv | vi >>

taglist: @syubseokie @koyagifs @sunnysidesins @thedistractedwriter @notevenheretbh1

@molberto @litolmochi @intowxnderland @yn-reincarnate @lemonkait00

@corgilover20 @randomgworlypop @taegi1016 @almondtofu006 @ateezaddict24

@desi2go @beabatiny @sangilov-r @roomsofangel @symmieangela

@dumplingsyum @etaerealboy @fairylover68 @foxinnie8

@yoonrixx @jean-swolo @silent-potato @jiwoongsblondehair @sanriomilk

@sanniesbum @tyudearyous @kang-ulzzang @scary-thingz @painted-hills

@kyomiingi @tournesol155 @bee-gremlin @sutskyu @fleuresjay

@http-gyu @ishz @park-simphwa @moonsanshine @drinkingrumandcocacola

@innocygnet @jaeyunlvrs @shanabtsarmy @soso59love-blog @plum-stxr

@vcutparis

[eleganzadellarosa]

Coparenting

pairing: babydaddy!Jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut (MINORS DNI)

warnings: dom!Jaehyun, slight breeding kink, daddy kink, rough sex, make up sex, hair pulling, spanking, manhandling, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, pet names (baby, my girl, sunshine, baby mama(he literally calls her this once as a joke), baby girl), slight pussydrunk Jae, mentions of underage drinking

word count: 10,373

AN: I wanted to write something for Jaehyun and this plot came to me so I wrote it out :) enjoy and thanks for reading! <3

You: You really fucked up this time Jae

Jae: I don’t know what to say…

You: Maybe sorry? You never actually say sorry

Jae: I’ll be there for you both, you know that

You: Whatever Jae, you know where to send the money

You kept the last text messages you sent each other to read them whenever you felt yourself falling back into an unrealistic fantasy, just to remind you why you broke up in the first place.

You were young, he was young. 19 to be exact. It was freshman year of college and one thing lead to another and you decided to keep the baby. He wasn’t against it but deep down you both knew you weren’t ready for parenthood quite yet. You had 6 years of dating history with him, having met him in your first year of high school. It wasn’t until you got pregnant that his personality changed and it lead him to do stupid things.

“You’re going to be a dad soon Jae, you can’t just act like that’s not a thing.”

“Who said I wasn’t? I’m literally just trying to live my life as a normal 19 year old! We’re not getting this age back so you can’t be mad!”

He didn’t understand at the time and you haven’t spoken to him since you broke up to know if he’s matured in any way. You loved him and you know he loved you, but there was no way you could handle the stress of him changing so suddenly.

“Come on baby, you have to come put your shoes on now” you called from the kitchen as you packed the small lunchbox into a backpack not much larger.

Being a single mom was difficult but you loved your daughter enough to look past all the hardships. You worked your ass off to make sure she went to a good school to get the best education since you didn’t have the luxury of staying home to teach her yourself.

She runs into the living room across from the kitchen and sits on the floor by the front door to slip on her shoes. You smile to yourself when you see she’s getting the hang of putting them on the correct foot.

You grabbed her backpack and your lunch bag and rushed to put your shoes on as well. You checked her outfit one last time before walking out the door.

It was routine to take her inside and to her classroom, making sure she made it safely and to greet her teacher every morning.

“Hi Mia! Let’s all say good morning to Mia!” the teacher waved both her hands to get the kids’ attention.

“Good morning Mia!” they all shouted in unison and a few of them ran up to hug her.

You stopped her to exchange your goodbye kisses before she ran off with her friends. “Thank you so much, I will be back later to pick her up.” You waved to her teacher as you walked toward the door.

“Of course, you have a great day!”

It was also routine for you to make a quick stop at the local cafe for a hot drink before work, usually choosing anything that goes good with two shots of espresso. When you walked in, a mixture of cinnamon, nutmeg and every other fall scent filled the air, making it clear of the changing seasons.

The man in front of you stood tall and browsed the many options on the overhead menu. “Must be new”you thought. Ever since you moved to this small town, you’ve grown used to seeing familiar faces, so someone not knowing what they wanted from the menu in such a popular cafe was strange.

He was handsome from the back. Dark chocolate locks slightly slicked back minus the few strands that fell to the front and a great sense of style. He wore a simple brown turtleneck under a black jacket with black pants and shoes to match. He looked expensive. You stopped staring at him so intensely when he finally spoke up to order.

“I’ll go with the pumpkin spice latte, and add two shots of espresso please.”

Funny, that’s exactly what you planned on ordering. Great fashion sense and good taste? Now you were curious if his face matched his handsome image from the back. To your dismay, he went straight over to sit at one of the corner tables by the window, back turned toward you.

“Hey, great morning we’re having! What can I get ya?” the cashier at the front greeted you as she always does, seeming to always have a smile on her face.

“Uh, I’ll actually order what he did” you pointed in the dapper man’s direction and she nodded her head as she pressed a few buttons on the screen.

“That’ll be $3.75”

You took your card out of your wallet and tapped it against the card reader. You went to sit at your favorite seat and wait for your order to be called.

“Pumpkin spice latte, two shots of espresso!”

You looked up from your phone and watched the barista push two identical cups forward on the counter in the pickup area. As you approached your drink, you looked over to see the man still sitting in his seat. He must not have heard them call out the order, but taking a quick glance at your watch there was no way you had time to be a good samaritan and make it to work on time.

You picked up your latte and walked toward the door, taking one last look back to see if you would witness him getting his drink before you fully stepped out. Surprisingly, he got up from his seat and turned around to go over and retrieve his order. You felt cold, body frozen with your hand on the “push to open” door. Your hands were trembling, drink barely secure in them. Your heart dropped.

There he was, in the flesh. The father of your child and the man you once called “the love of your life”. You moved to this town to start a new life and get away from having possible run ins with him, but seeing as he was standing in the cafe you visited everyday like clockwork, your plan to stay hidden had been ruined. You quickly turned around before he looked in your direction and pushed the door open.

You stared at the road in a daze, driving with your limbs on autopilot. It’s going on 5 years since you’ve seen him last and could have gone the rest of your life without doing so.

You had to admit, seeing him made you realize how much he blossomed more into an adult in such a short amount of time. You missed him, but had to think of the text messages that still sat in your phone today. You could never let yourself fall down that hole again, especially for your daughter’s sake. You hated Mia not knowing her father, but it was best for now that she didn’t get attached to someone who might not stay.

You parked your car in the lot, hands still gripping the steering wheel, your head falling forward on the horn. It was going to be tough getting through your shift today with the anxiety bubbling up in you. What was he doing here anyways? To you, he had no business in this small town. There was nothing too exciting about the place and it seemed to house mostly people 30 and above.

Whatever he was here for, you hoped it was only for today and you didn’t have to go through seeing him on a regular basis.

4 o’clock came sooner than you expected, probably thanks to how unfocused you were all day. Right now your daughter was the only thing on your mind and you wanted to pick her up quickly so she didn’t wait longer than need be.

“Mommy mommy! Look, I got a sticker!” she runs up to you with her arm extended to show you the sticky image on the back of her hand.

“Wooow baby, it’s so nice! Who gave that to you?”

“Mrs. Burgess! She said I did really good on my writing my name today!”

You smiled and patted her on the head, picking her up and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Great job my Mia, mommy’s so proud! You have to show mommy how you write your name later okay?”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around your neck as you opened the back passenger door for her to sit in her car seat. After strapping her in, you slid in the front ready to get home and end the day.

“Mommy, next week is parent’s day! Everyone made paper flowers for their mommies and daddies.”

“Ooo a surprise for mommy? I can’t wait to see it!”

“Yes! I made one for daddy too so tell him to come too!”

You froze in your seat, taking a peek at her from the rear view mirror. “Mia…daddy’s not here remember?” you swallowed thickly, hoping that she would skip over her mistake and leave the conversation alone.

“Why can’t daddy come this one time? I want to give daddy his flower.”

You were stumped. As much as you tried to prepare yourself for this day, your mouth was sewn shut. You didn’t want to contact him, you didn’t want to see him, you just didn’t want to get hurt again. You weren’t even sure if he had the same number if you did want to shoot him a text. You were the one to break up with him because of his antics and you were also the reason why he had never come to visit. From changing your number to moving to a whole different city, you tried to erase your identity from his memory.

It wasn’t something you wanted to worry about and you hoped your daughter would simply forget by the time next week came around.

The next morning, you went back to the cafe, heart not racing until you look over at where he sat yesterday. Thankfully no one who matched the description sat there now and you considered yourself off the hook. What were the chances he had actually moved to this city and yesterday was one of many days you’d run into each other?

“Hey Emma, same as yesterday please!” you smiled at your normal cashier and went to go sit in your usual spot after you paid.

“Y/N?” The voice sounded unsure, cautious, in disbelief. When you turned around, his eyes matched the tone of the words that left his mouth. “Oh my god, it really is you! You look…good.”

Your mind was going haywire. Jaehyun was standing merely inches away from you, looking just as good as he did yesterday in much more comfortable attire.

“Hey Jae.” you said weakly, “Yeah, you too.”

“I uh…would have paid for your drink if I knew it was you.” He smiled his signature smile. That damn smile and those stupid dimples. It took everything in you to not slap the look off his face. “C-can you talk? It’s been a while.”

Admittedly you didn’t have to be to work for another hour and a half, so you had time since it was only 30 minutes away and traffic was still good. You were indeed curious what he wanted to talk about but didn’t want it to turn out like it did the many times you played it out in your head. It wouldn’t hurt to try though.

“Uhhhh yeah sure.”

He smiled as if he high-fived himself for getting you to agree and he followed you back to your table after grabbing the drinks.

“How have you been? I hadn’t seen you around and now I know why.”

“I’ve been good, just working. And yeah, I’ve been here. How have you been?” You looked down at your cup and let your thumbs play with the sides.

“I’ve been good too. Working mostly, nothing special.”

You nodded your head and gave him a small smile, having the courage to finally look up at him.

“How’s the little one?” he asked hesitantly but you knew it would come out eventually.

“Mia? She’s good. She’s in kindergarten now.”

His eyes widened and the grip on his cup got a bit tighter. You forgot he didn’t know the name you chose since you moved before you went into labor and never got the chance to discuss any of those things.

“Wow, I see I missed a lot…”

“Yeah Jae, you did.”

“Well if you don’t mind, I can change that. I’m actually in the process of moving here in like 2 weeks. I can take her to school some days and watch her too to take something off your plate.”

Fear welled up in your chest at the mention of him taking her since it felt like he would never bring her back. “I’m actually not comfortable with that at all. I’m not sure she needs someone so unstable this early in her life.”

He raised an eyebrow, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“Well I don’t know Jae, I was alone my entire pregnancy so I’m not sure I can trust you to be there for her.”

He looked down and his jaw shifted, mouth hanging from the scoff he let out. “I know what I did was wrong and I’m very sorry about that, but you moved and changed your number before you even had her so what the hell was I supposed to do?!”

You knew he was right but you hated that he dismissed the reason you left in the first place. This conversation was a bad idea just like you thought it would be and you didn’t want it to last any longer than it needed to. You stared at him with a deadpan expression and stood up from your seat. He grabbed your arm and sat you back down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come across so harshly. I just wanted to be there for the both of you and that wasn’t the easiest thing. I know I made some mistakes but I would never leave our daughter like that.”

“My daughter and I don’t know if I can trust that Jae. I don’t want to see her sad.”

“I promise you I wouldn’t want to see either of my girls sad. Give me your number, I can text you when I get settled in and we can discuss this some more.”

It felt like the energy in the earth shifted while you handed him your phone. That “my girls” shit you completely ignored and had no time to fall for one of his tricks. Why did it have to come to this, you not trusting anything he says?

When you got in your car and drove off, tears streamed down your face. In some way you felt defeated like he broke through the defenses that you so effortlessly built. It was scary, him reentering your life right after your daughter mentioned the parent event at school.

A week passed and you had forgotten all about parent’s day until the morning of when Mia told you “not to forget to tell daddy to come”. She never worried about this man before or maybe you were so stuck on keeping him away that you didn’t notice how much she wanted him around.

Ding

Jae: Hey, I just wanted to ask if you could send me some pictures of Mia? I don’t want to go crazy and ask for all of them, but I wanna see her from day one.

You stared down at the text and then looked at the date. According to him at the cafe, he should be here next week and you knew he’d want to see her. You also knew that if you told him about Mia’s flower for him, he’d be over asap. Not yet you thought. Him meeting her would have to wait until he got here and until you were ready. For now, pictures would have to suffice.

Jae: She’s so gorgeous 💕

Jae: She looks a lot like you I think but she definitely has my dimples!

The comparison made you sick. You knew it was his kid but you tried not to see his side of it. Fuck, this was gonna end so badly, you could feel it. One more week, one more week before you had to deal with whatever he threw your way and truthfully you weren’t ready to catch it.

It was time to pick up Mia and attend the parent’s day event. You walked inside the classroom and smiled at all the other parents and teachers that you passed by. Seeing all the couples made you realize just how single you were and you lowkey wished Jaehyun was here to make it not feel so awkward.

Mia’s eyes lit up when she saw you and ran over with your flower in one hand and his in the other.

“Did daddy come too?!”

You chuckled awkwardly and shook your head. She looked up at you for a few seconds before bursting out into tears, shocking you and everyone else in the classroom. You quickly picked her up to shush her but her feelings were hurt and you would be trying to comfort her for a while. Your poor baby, you hated doing this to her but she didn’t know how scary the whole situation was.

Maybe it was only scary for you and she would be just fine with everything if he decided to leave again. You missed him. His presence, his laugh…his dick. The relationship was going so strong and one small mistake messed it all up. Boys are so stupid you said to yourself while you rubbed her back and fought the tears building up in your eyes.

He never told you what day exactly he would be here but when the next week hit, your anxiety increased tenfold. He probably felt so good about himself for knowing you anticipated his call, text or even seeing him in the cafe again. You actually hadn’t seen him since the last time and you guessed it was because he had a few more things to sort out before he moved.

Ding

You looked down at your phone when you heard the notification. His name shines brightly on your phone and your palms get sweaty.

Jae: Hey Y/N, I just finished moving all my stuff in. I wanted to take you and Mia out to the park this weekend if you weren’t busy.

There it was. The time you knew was coming but still didn’t fully prepare for. He was once again taking control of the situation and you detest not being able to gain it back.

You: Hey Jae, sure what time and which park did you want to meet at?

He turned his read receipts on for you, so you knew he checked your message almost immediately. He gave you a time and place and said to also let him know if you were down for lunch. You felt the slight warmth in your heart, feeling like you did back when you used to date. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. You didn’t want your feelings for him to come back just because he was around again because you knew it would cloud your judgement.

If he messed up again, you would have the pleasure of telling him “I told you so” which gave you something to look forward to. When you got home and told Mia that "daddy wanted to see her", she almost went through the roof with how high she jumped. She even went to school and told all her friends about it. You had never seen her so excited for something and you hoped he didn't let her down.

When the weekend approached, you stood in front of your mirror staring at your outfit for too long. In reality, you weren't really looking at your outfit, you were stuck in another daze not mentally ready for what the day had to bring. You chose something between casual and cute just in case the park got you dirty. An oversized argyle sweater tucked in a pair of light blue jeans. As for your hair, you settled on some loose curls.

"Come on mommy, let's go see daddy!" Mia was already by the door putting on her shoes.

"Are you sure you're ready to see daddy?" you spoke to her as you straightened her clothes and added bows to her two pigtails. If she said no, you would have made up any excuse for her, but seeing how she couldn't sit still while you added her accessories meant that her backing out wasn't an option.

Ding

Jae: I'm omw there now, it's not too far from me so it won't take me long.

You: Okay, we're otw too.

You took your last deep breath before walking out the door. When you stepped out the car with Mia, she immediately ran over to get on the slide. You took a seat on the bench across from her, keeping an eye on her around all the other kids. You watched her aimlessly, thumbs twiddling as you waited.

"Hey."

You turned to see Jaehyun walking up to you with a bag in hand. He was dressed in a plain black tee covered by a burgundy cardigan, black jeans and black sneakers. God he looked so good, why did he have to be so damn fine?

"Oh hey." you smiled and waved lightly.

He sat next to you on the bench, knees touching.

"I brought Mia a gift. I'm not really sure what she likes but she always had a bear with her in her baby pics, figured she'd want an upgrade." He reached into the bag and pulled out a small plush rabbit, something you knew Mia would love. He reached in for something else, and pulled out a small box, handing it over to you. "I got you a little something too."

You raised both your eyebrows in shock and grabbed the box from him. You opened it to see a spa voucher for a full body massage and under it was a small dainty necklace with a single diamond on it. You loved simple jewelry liked this and apparently he remembered.

"Oh that's so thoughtful of you Jae, I really love it. Thank you."

He look relieved that he properly guessed what you'd like as a gift. He opened his mouth to say something but got cut off by Mia.

"Daddy! Hi daddy!" she came running over to you both when she saw him sitting next to you.

Your heads shot in her direction and you looked over at him, the biggest smile spread across his face. He opened his arms and she crashed into the hug as he picked her up and sat her on his lap.

"Hi Mia! I'm so glad to see you, you look so pretty!"

"You look pretty too daddy, I'm so happy you came! Since you didn't come to my school, I'm going to give you your flower now!"

He looked over at you confused and you felt guilty for not telling him about the special day. She reached into her bag that sat next to you and pulled out the paper flower similar to the one she made for you. His face brightened and he leaned over to grab it.

"Wow Mia you did such a great job! Daddy has something for you too!"

Her face lights up and she jumps up and down. "Daddy has a gift for me mommy!" You laugh at her excitement and nod your head. She squealed and spun around with the rabbit he gave her and thanked him multiple times in a short minute. She went over to hug him again and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you daddy! She's my favorite!"

He laughed and rubbed her head before she sped off, back to whatever kids she made friends with.

"It's kind of unbelievable."

"What?" you didn't know what he meant but patiently waited for his answer.

"I can't believe we have a kid together and she's already this big. 5 years seems like such a long time."

"It is. A very long time actually." You caught a lump in your throat when you were forced back to the reality of the situation. Seeing him and Mia interact so well together makes you wish you could turn back time and start things off on a better foot. Jaehyun was a great guy and you knew that, but you couldn't forgive him for his immaturity back then.

You sat on top of the toilet, hands shaking and eyes watery looking at the positive result on the pregnancy test. You didn't mean for this to happen and didn't think it actually would happen. It's not like you and Jae never fucked raw, but his pullout game was usually top tier. You both got too caught up in the moment and he came in you with no hesitation. You thought everything would be fine since you immediately went to the bathroom, but the double lines staring back at you told you a different story.

You were scared, not because you didn't want a baby with him but that was a plan you made for years down the line. You were both freshmen in college and this would ultimately throw a few wrenches in both your plans. You knew he would be understanding though and that helped ease your mind some.

You: come over after the game, we gotta talk

Jae: 👀 uh oh babe, don't scare me like this. Is it bad?

You: not exactly...

You: just come over when you're done

There was a knock on your dorm door within the next 10 minutes and you know he stopped the game of basketball he was playing with his friends for you. Your feet dragged you to the door and you opened it, Jaehyun out of breath on the other side. His shirt was missing and sweat dripped off his body.

"What's wrong baby? Is everything okay?" he asked walking in and closing the door behind him.

You hated that the moment couldn't be better than you telling him in the living room of your slightly run down dorm. You grabbed the test out the pocket of your red pajama shorts and held it up so he could see it.

"Jae, I'm pregnant."

His eyes grew to the size of tomatoes as everything sank in and he stood there stiff as a board. You were starting to get nervous when he didn't say anything and wasn't really sure how to handle his reaction.

"Jae say something, you're scaring me..."

"I-oh my god...I mean baby I'm so happy but this is just so sudden."

"You came in me last month Jae, there was always a possibility. And you don't really look happy."

"I know baby, I know, I just didn't think it would actually happen." He pulled you into a hug a rubbed your back. "I'm happy for us, I really am and I know you'll be a great mom."

This all came as a shock to you too so his reaction wasn't far fetched. Everything that followed after is what surprised you. He barely ever spent time with you anymore and he was always out sneaking drinks with his friends. Jaehyun was never a fan of alcohol but the news of your pregnancy seemed to unleash a new side of him and you hated it.

One night a friend of his texted you to come get him because he was so drunk and feeling up on every girl at the party. It was disappointing and embarrassing, his behavior was outta control and he never had an explanation for it. You got to the party and saw him hugged up on some random girl who was taking advantage of the attention. You went over and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Ooooooooh, hey babe. I didn't know you were invited." His eyes were droopy and he slurred every word. He grabbed around your waist from the couch he sat on and leaned his head against your stomach.

You pushed his head off and dragged him by the arm, pulling hard as he resisted.

"Get the fuck off me! Why are you trying to ruin this for me?"

The words came out harshly and you couldn't help but think he wasn't talking about the party when he said "ruin". Most people stopped to look at the fight brewing between you and Jae, and you felt the heat rise in your face. Tears threatened to fall when he shoved you away again and walked off, leaving you to stand in the crowd by yourself.

It was that night you made up your mind that he wouldn't be the partner you thought him to be and you had to move on without him. That's the night the messages were exchanged and you changed your number not long after, not waiting to hear whatever shitty excuse he came up with.

As you sat on the bench with him looking at the daughter that formed from you two, you wanted things to be different. You wanted to be able to lock your fingers with his and know that he was going back to a home you shared.

All of it was as true as a pig flying. As if being able to feel the shift in energy from you, Jaehyun looks over and watches how you watch Mia in a daze, eyes showing sadness he’s never witnessed. He wanted to pull you in for a hug, kiss your forehead and rub your back but he knew the reason behind that sadness was him.

He hated what he did to you and how he acted. Everything was just so sudden and truthfully it scared him. The idea of being a dad but the expectation of being a GOOD dad. He was fucking terrified and he made the wrong decision of trying to drink and party his fears away.

Before he could apologize you were already gone. Dropped out as if school no longer mattered, or most importantly, him. He loved you more than words could describe and he messed it all up, possibly never having the chance of getting it back. Not being able to handle the sorrow you tried to conceal, he suggested you all went for lunch since Mia had been playing continuously for the hour you had been here.

“Come on Mia, let’s go eat with…let’s go eat.” you stopped yourself from referring to him as “daddy” simply because you’re not sure how long this relationship would last and it would feel weird calling him that all of a sudden.

Mia runs over and grabs Jaehyun’s hand and looks up at him with a wide smile. He looks down and returns the smile and tightens his grip. He looked good as a dad and it was something you never doubted, just unfortunate circumstances that made you think otherwise.

“You guys can ride with me and I can just bring you back here to your car when we’re done. Is that okay?” He looks at you as he stands at his car, hand resting on the roof of the driver’s side.

Before you could speak, Mia shouted excitedly that she wanted to ride with him so there was no way you could say no especially since you weren’t ready to have him be alone with her.

He smiled and jogged over to the passenger side where you thought he’d be opening the door for Mia but opens your door instead. You turned around to thank him as you got in, but he was already buckling her in the backseat. It felt weird not being the one to drive around wherever you needed to go but it felt nice at the same time. Being a passenger princess eased your mind some and you felt like a chore had been crossed off your list.

“Everyone buckled in?” He hopped into the driver’s seat and looked in the rearview mirror at his daughter before looking at you and you give him a nod.

You kept your eyes on the road as best as you could but they would occasionally slide over and watch him drive. You rolled your eyes for constantly letting his looks distract you. You couldn’t help but notice how much more toned his body seemed under his clothing, and remembering how your nails would dig into his back while he roughly thrusted into you.

Ugh. You clenched your jaw and shooed the image in your head away, sitting in silence for the remainder of the ride. When he pulled into the parking lot, his arm instinctively reached behind your seat to boost him up high so he could see as he parked. You didn’t expect to blush so hard, but having him this close and smelling his cologne had you sidetracked.

“Daddy you’re a good driver, I’m going to drive like daddy when I get big!” Mia exclaims when Jaehyun opens her door and unbuckles her.

He chuckled and smiled as he picked her up, “Thank you baby, daddy will teach you okay?”

He carries her to the door of the restaurant and opens it for you. When you enter, you can feel his eyes watching you. After sitting down and ordering, there was a slight awkward silence besides the few times Mia would think of something she wanted to tell him. You and Jae ordered pasta and Mia wanted a sandwich.

"Daddy can you cut my sandwich please? It's too big." She pouted as she pushed her plate closer to Jaehyun's side of the table.

"Mia, honey you have to do some things yourself…”

He waved his hand dismissing whatever you just said. “No it’s okay, I’ll cut her sandwich for her especially because she asked very politely, good job Mia.” He patted her head and grabbed her plate.

Just watching their interactions showed you just how much Mia is falling in love with being around him and you can’t help but want to cry. You want this relationship between them to work, you don’t want her to feel the sadness you did. A part of you also wants you and Jaehyun to work but you brushed it off as a rekindling feeling because you haven’t been with anyone like this in a long time.

“How’s your food? I saw this place had good reviews so I’m hoping it lives up to the expectations.”

“Oh, it’s actually really good. I’ve never been here before so it felt nice to try somewhere new.”

“Oh really? How come you’ve never come here?” He leaned forward, chin resting in the palm of his hand, attentive and ready to listen.

You stared at him for a second. Gosh he’s so gorgeous, you see why you started dating him in the first place. But it was this moment now, the way all his attention was focused on you that made your heart flutter and you suddenly felt 19 again. He had always been so good with listening to whatever problems you had and never made you feel like you couldn’t talk to him. You missed that and with the lack of friends in the past few years, it felt good to have an adult to hang out with.

Being a single mother made you have to put in the extra work so you never stopped to make friends. It was your fault but it didn’t help knowing that you were only overworking yourself to keep your mind off of him. You wanted him to hug you, hold you tight and tell you everything was okay. That all the years you spent apart were worth it and necessary.

“Uh, I don’t know. I guess I usually just don’t have time for myself.”

“You don’t hang out with your friends?”

You smiled awkwardly. “I…don’t have any friends. I’ve been working a lot since Mia was born, so I don’t really have time to make friends. And I also don’t have a babysitter nor would I trust a random person to watch her.”

Although he tried to hide it, there was a gloominess in his eyes as he listened to you. "I understand and I'm sorry you went through so much. I'm serious when I say I will always be here for the both of you no matter what. I lov-I care about you and Mia so much and would never do anything else to hurt you. I promise." He grabbed your hand that rested on the table and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

You caught how he almost said he loved you. Did he really or was he just saying that to make you trust him? The feeling felt foreign after so many years and you weren’t sure how to handle it.

“I had fun today daddy!" Mia rushes over to hug him and he picks her up and squeezes her tight.

"Aww I'm so glad you did, daddy had fun too. I'll come see you and mommy again soon okay?" He put her down and watched her run back to you. He walked over to hug you also, hesitating a bit but went through with it when you didn't back away.

It was more like a side hug because he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, but it was a hug nonetheless. You surprised yourself letting him get so close but even with the 2 seconds his arm wrapped around you, it felt so nice to be in his arms again. He was softening the walls you built up and it made you feel stupid for letting it happen so quickly.

"Thank you for taking care of her for so long, you're such a good mother. I'm going to keep my promise to the both of you, I'm very serious about this. You have my number, so don't hesitate to call me and ask for anything. I'm right here and from now on I will always be here."

You bit on the inside of your lip and focused your gaze toward the ground. You weren't sure if you wanted to slap him then hug him or just hug him. You waited this long to have someone by your side to make you feel like you weren't alone in all this but it still made you feel so uneasy, and truthfully it was stressful. You were going to trust him this time and see where it got you, already preparing yourself for the worst.

In the next few weeks, he kept in touch to either check on you and Mia or to ask if you needed anything from him. You were growing soft to him, falling in love with him all over. You felt like you were finally getting the attention you'd been missing all this time and it felt weird knowing it was coming from him.

Today, he was coming over to help with grocery shopping. You told him he didn't have to but he insisted on helping and carrying the groceries in the house so you wouldn't have to move a muscle.

"That's what I'm here for" he said when you told him you'd been doing it by yourself this whole time. "You don't have to worry about that type of thing anymore with me here."

Shopping went well until some jerk decided to hit you with his cart because you stood in front of something he wanted.

Jaehyun went over and shoved him on the shoulder. "What’s wrong with you man?! You couldn't just say excuse me?!"

The man went to shove Jaehyun back but he slapped the guy's hand away before it connected. "Maybe tell your stupid girlfriend to read the room and not stand in front of stuff, asshole."

"Hey man, watch your mouth around my daughter and don't talk about my girl like that.” He took a step closer to the man. “You better apologize before I fuck you up."

A blush painted your cheeks hearing the conversation between the two men. You looked over at Mia whose lip was pouting as she tried not to cry. You hurried to the front of the cart and hugged her against your chest to shush her. They argued continuously and you saw Jaehyun's hand ball into a fist. You went over and rubbed his arm to hopefully ease his anger.

"Jae it's not worth it, people like him don't deserve your time.”

His jaw clenched and his fist unclenched. He goes to turn around and the man says one last thing to tip Jaehyun over the top.

"Yeah man listen to your girlfriend, she's a keeper. If you don't fuck her, I will."

Jaehyun turns around and punches the man in the face, causing him to stumble back against the shelves. Both you and Mia scream and you stop Jaehyun from landing another punch. Security comes to further break up the fight and ask about what happened. Thankfully there were witnesses who vouched for Jaehyun and the guard let him off the hook while escorting the belligerent man out the store.

Jae went back to pushing Mia in the cart and thumbed away her drying tears. "I'm so sorry Mia, daddy didn't mean for you to see him that way. He doesn't like for anyone to say bad things about his girls." He looked up at you and offered an apologetic smile.

Back in the car, you noticed his knuckles slightly bruised as his hand rests on top of the gear shift. You looked up at him and could tell he was still slightly annoyed by the situation from earlier. You placed your hand on top of his and his expression softened.

"Thank you for earlier, for protecting us. I don't want you getting yourself into trouble over anything like that though."

"Y/N I know, I'm sorry. I just couldn't handle him talking about you like that."

"Jae...I'm not even your girlfriend though."

"You're special to me and the mother of my child, so it doesn't really matter." he says as he backs into your driveway. He looks back at you, slightly leaning onto your armrest. "Don't ever think that someone will be able to talk crazy about you in front of me."

You quickly avoided his gaze and unbuckled your seat belt. "I have to get her inside so she can eat and get ready for bed, it's late."

He sighed to himself and pressed the button to open the trunk. "Okay I'll get the bags, just get Mia and open the door for me."

He helped you bring in all the bags and even put the groceries away. This was his first time being in your home and it truly felt odd.

"Daddy, are you going to stay and eat dinner with me and mommy?"

He stopped playing with her and looked up at you, who looked back at him.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure mommy is sleepy baby, maybe another time? You have to get to sleep soon after you eat."

She pouted her lips and looked at you. It wouldn't hurt to have him stay since he was so nice and helpful today.

"No, I'm actually fine and I would love to repay you for your kindness. Stay with us for dinner Jae."

He looked down at Mia and they both smiled. He kissed her forehead and got up to come into the kitchen with you. "Well at least let me help with dinner." He grabbed your waist and slid past you to get to the fridge. "Lemme know what you need and I'll cut, chop or whatever else for you."

For dinner, you made chicken parmesan and caesar salad. He did a lot of the prep work and set the table after. You caught yourself blushing a few times having him stand next to you and from the overall interactions.

"Come on Mia, let's eat!" you had to get her attention since she was fully focused on whatever storyline she made up for her dolls.

"It smells so good mommy, I'm so hungry!"

Jaehyun chuckled and you smiled at her compliments. "Well daddy helped too so you have to tell him that too."

Her mouth formed a small "oh" and her eyebrows stood in shock. "Daddy's a chef!"

You both laugh at her choice of words and get settled at the table, ready to eat. Dinner was a success, everyone had perfectly clean plates and bowls. Maybe it was because you were happy, but dinner just tasted so much better. Maybe you should have him over more often.

"Daddy...do you love mommy?" The sudden question from Mia made both you and Jaehyun quickly look up at her, you almost choking on the drink you were sipping.

"Why do you ask Mia?" Jaehyun is the first to speak up after the slightly long silence.

"Well...you always tell me you love me but you never say it to mommy and mommy never says it to you. But you should love each other because that's just how mommies and daddies are."

He chuckled nervously, unsure of how to respond. He cleared his throat when he felt your eyes on him, waiting to see what he would tell her.

"Yes...I do love mommy. I will always love her so don't you worry okay? Come on, let's go get ready for bed. I want to say goodnight to you before I go."

He got up from the table and took her in the bathroom so she could brush her teeth. You leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. You wanted to pull your hair out. Knowing he still had feelings for you made this so much harder. You loved him too, you know you did and you never doubted it. It was just still so hard to accept that he wouldn't do anything to mess up whatever you had now.

After cleaning the dinner dishes, you went and sat on the couch and opened a bottle of wine you had stored for a few months. You set down your glass and pulled out the cork. You weren't much of a drinker, but tonight you were in need.

You turned around when you heard the door to Mia's room close and saw Jaehyun tiptoeing away from it. He put his finger to his lips to tell you to stay quiet.

"She's asleep, she was so tired." He came around and sat on the couch with you, eyeing the bottle of wine on the coffee table. "Mind if I stay for a drink?"

You shook your head and pointed to the cabinet containing the glasses and he grabbed one before reclaiming his spot on the couch. You both sat in silence having finished your quarter full glasses a while ago. You looked in the direction of Mia's room and looked back at Jaehyun, both of your elbows resting on the back of the couch.

"You mean a lot to her Jae, I can see how much she loves spending time with you."

"What about you?"

The question threw you off guard but you should have expected it after he confessed his feelings at the dinner table. "What about me?"

"Do I mean a lot to you? I know I messed up a lot in the past, but I'm really trying Y/N."

Your eyes met his again and if there was one word that would describe the way he looked at you, it would be genuine. You knew he was telling the truth and you knew he expected an answer.

"I-I...I don't know Jae, honestly this whole thing has been terrifying and I can't help but want to keep my guard up. I've been so alone these past few years that accepting you back into my life scares me so much. I just don't want to be alone again..."

He grabbed your face in his hands and softly kissed your forehead. "I know, I know and I'm sorry. My babygirl didn't deserve that and I really want to make it up to you. Just trust me and let me take care of you and Mia, let me be in your life again. Please."

You felt stuck, stuck in between wanting to hate him and wanting to let him love you, leaning more toward the latter. Perhaps it was the tiny bit of wine in your system, definitely not enough to get you drunk, but enough to give you confidence.

You leaned forward and kissed him, heart beating fast enough to power a machine. When you leaned back, he looked at you with an unreadable expression. The alcohol immediately left your bloodstream and your face burned with embarrassment.

"Jae I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

He pulls you back into the kiss, hand dragging you in by the waist. He put his all into it and you were starting to feel dizzy. The last time you kissed him was before you had Mia, so to say the kiss had your body heating with lust was an understatement.

He tugged at you and pulled you into his lap, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck. His hands were everywhere, never stopping in one place for too long. He slid his hands under your shirt, playing with your boobs for a quick second before tossing the shirt over your head. He broke the kiss and looked at your chest like a kid in a candy store. You wanted to cover them with your hands, but he slipped a hand behind your back to unclasp your bra before you could.

Your breasts fell free and he wasted no time in letting his lips wrap around your nipple. His hand came up to massage the other one and your hands came up to tangle in his hair. After not being with him for so long, you forgot just how much you missed the sex with him. He was always a giver and always made sure you came even if he didn't. Eventually his hands traveled down your back and landed on your hips. He rolled his hips up into you and you both moaned into the kiss.

You reached down between your bodies and palmed him through the pants he wore. He ground up into your hand and you felt just how hard he was. As you began to fiddle with the waistband, he shifted and eased you down onto the couch as he moved between your legs.

"Jae-"

"Shh shh baby, let me take care of you tonight. Let me show you how much I missed you."

He kissed his way down your stomach, placing a kiss on each side of your hip bones. He slipped off your skirt and panties in one go, a string of your arousal sticking to your underwear.

"Fuck, you're so wet..." He bit his lip and dragged a finger through your folds, playing with the slippery mess between them.

He bent down to connect his lips to your pussy. He made a few circles around your clit with his tongue, earning moans from you, before slipping a finger in. You gasped and your hips bucked involuntarily. He moved them faster and faster, holding your thigh down with the hand not in use. You can tell he was enjoying this just as much as you were with his heavy breathing and the way he slightly humped the couch beneath him.

He then used the hand holding down your thigh to rub circles on your clit as his tongue joined his fingers.

“Jae, I’m so close!”

Your legs tried closing but he used his elbows to stop them.

“Cum for me baby, let it out.” The vibrations of his voice sent shockwaves through your nerves.

The simultaneous stimulation sent you over the edge and your toes curled almost cramping your foot. He brought his hand up to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean, never breaking eye contact.

He moved up your body to trap you in another kiss, this time your hand finding a way to his nether regions. You dipped your hands into his pants and into his underwear to stroke his length. He stopped focusing on the kiss for a few seconds and rutted into your hand.

“Jae, please fuck me while my mind is clear.”

He quickly removed everything from the waist down and now you both lay naked on the couch. He tapped his dick on your clit and rubbed it through your folds a few times to get it wet. He eased into you and cursed under his breath. It’s been so long that you forgot just how big he was, stretching you to new lengths but it felt so good.

“Fuck, you’re so big.”

“Did you forget already?” he laughed with his brows furrowed as he concentrated on not cumming too quickly. “Fuck you’re so fucking wet.”

You grabbed onto his biceps as he got balls deep, feeling so stretched and full. You moaned when he started thrusting into you slowly, bucking your hips to match his speed. He grabbed onto your waist and sped up his pace, skin slapping against each other.

“Fuck Daddy that feels so good~” you tried to stop your eyes from rolling back from the pleasure.

“Shit, if you call me that again I might get too rough.”

You looked up at him through hooded lids, his lip caught between teeth as he tried to keep it together. But you didn’t want that, you wanted him to fuck you into an empty headspace. You wanted to forget everything he’s ever done wrong and trust him as he is now.

“Fuck me harder Daddy, don’t hold back.” You wrapped your legs around his waist and you could see the switch in his eyes.

He pulled out of you and flipped you over with ease. Now you laid in a “face down ass up” position ready to take whatever he gave you. He rubbed his hands up and down your body, grinding his dick against your folds.

“Gosh I missed this pussy so much…” He lined himself up and slammed back in making you gasp.

This angle and the speed he chose truly did make you feel like he was fucking your thoughts away. By this time you were basically screaming, not able to make full sentences. He grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you up as he bent down and whispered in your ear.

“Not too loud, you don’t want Mia to wake up and hear how much of a slut you are.” He tugged on your hair harder and thrust into you harder, your moans getting louder. He landed a slap on your ass and covered your mouth with the other.

“Fuck Jae! I’m gonna cum!” You tried moving your body forward to give yourself some time to breathe, your heart pumping like you were on a treadmill.

The hand over your mouth slid down and wrapped around your throat and he was back at your ear.

“Stop running and take this dick. Let Daddy fuck the stress out of you.” He reached down with his other hand and rubbed harsh circles on your clit. He felt your walls squeeze around his girth and he knew you were close and he wasn’t too far himself. “Cum for me baby, I know you want to.”

“Oh god Jae! It feels so fucking good~”

Your toes were curling, your walls were clenching and your vision was dimming. Your orgasm was approaching quickly and you knew it would be mind blowing. His thrusts were getting sloppier so you knew the way your pussy sucked him in had his head spinning.

“Fuck, where you want my cum baby?”

“Inside Jae, please!” You knew you hadn’t been on birth control in a while but something in you made you feel safe enough to choose the most dangerous answer.

He loved fucking you raw, but getting to also cum inside did something to him. Telling him that seemed to power his thrusts, they were now like he wanted to split you in half.

“Missed Daddy so much you want him to fuck another baby in you?” His hips were starting to stutter, you felt way too good around him. “Fuck, please cum with me, cum all over me baby. God you feel so good around my dick.”

His hand moved from your clit to go up and squeeze your nipple while he bit down on you shoulder. The mixed pain and pleasure pushed you to your orgasm and you squeezing around him pushed him to his, both screaming out each other’s name. He pulled out and watched his cum drip out of you, the sight alone could make him hard again.

Him inching out of you was just as euphoric but your body had no strength to keep itself up for another round. You laid there evening out your breaths with a smile spread across your face. You heard him shuffling around behind you and eventually he came back with a warm towel to clean you up.

He placed gentle kisses down your spine and rubbed where he left a handprint on your ass. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.”

“You were rough, but you know that’s how I like it.” You chuckled and built up enough strength to sit up and look at him. He looked amazing all fucked out and sweaty, you wanted to pounce on him again. “Thank you for helping to ease my mind.”

“I want to do that for you more often, I wanna be your man again Y/N. I’m sorry for everything I said and did to you to make you feel like I didn’t love you anymore. I love you so much and I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know that.”

You quickly wiped the tears that threatened to fall and looked away from him. He pulled you into a hug and rubbed your head and back. You wrapped your arms around him and fully embraced the hug. There was no holding back now, you accepted him and was ready to give him another chance.

“Don’t go, stay with me tonight.”

“Of course baby, I’m never leaving you again.”

Over the next few months, Jaehyun frequented your home, whether it was to run errands with you, drop Mia off from school or just to spend time with the both of you. There were days you also spent nights at his place. The sex was also constant. No matter where or when, he would have you bent over or pinned up against something as he slammed into you.

You loved every second of it, having him by your side on the daily again. He often brought you and Mia around his job to meet his coworkers whenever they had events, even making friends with one of the other families who had kids around Mia’s age. He showed you off like an art piece, one that only he possessed. You were his to keep and everyone else barely had the privilege to look.

“Hey baby mama, so the office is having a party to celebrate the collab of our international partnership and I want you to come with me.” He stood behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist, peppering kisses on your neck as you stood making your cup of tea.

“Haha ew Jae do not call me that. Of course I’ll go baby, when is it?” You turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

He sighed happily. “I will never get tired of your kisses babygirl. It’s next week and it starts at 8 and I know you’re worried about a babysitter for Mia, but Tracy said she could watch her because she didn’t want to go.”

It didn’t hurt to let her watch Mia, this would be the first time you and Jae did something together without her. You thought about it for a few seconds more then nodded your head. He smiled brightly and kissed you again.

The venue was classy and you understood why Jaehyun told you to get so dressed up. You didn’t have anything to wear so he took you shopping the day before to get everything you needed. With him by your side, you felt like a billionaire. You wore a long black draped collar dress that was made with a sparkly fabric, a slit going up your right leg.

Jae loved it on you, bending you over in it when he came to see it on you in the dressing room. Speaking of him, he wore a plain black suit with a matching tie and white button down. He looked good and with the way his hand kept rubbing your ass, you knew he’d take you somewhere later to fuck you.

Everyone commented on how great you two looked as a couple as you walked to your table. The event wasn’t very long so there were only standing tables with drinks and small hors d’oeuvres. His boss stood in the middle of the large open space and tapped the microphone to get everyone’s attention.

“First and foremost I’d like to thank everyone for coming. Today we celebrate the long awaited partnership with Korea in order to expand our company. It is thanks to all of you that we were able to achieve such a wonderful thing and hopefully we continue to grow.” He turns to look in the direction of you and Jaehyun. “We have also gathered here today for something else special, so if you would all please turn your attention this way.”

You were confused and when you went to turn and ask Jaehyun what was going on, you looked down and saw him on one knee. Your eyes widened and you covered your mouth with your hands. You blinked back as many tears as you could while he spoke.

“Babygirl, I know we’ve gone through some rough times, you more than me, but I’m going to continue to keep my promise to you and Mia for as long as I live. You are my sunshine, my rock, my everything and I love you so much. You are the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, not as your boyfriend but as your husband. Y/N will you marry me?”

There was no fighting off the tears this time and you nodded your head as you continued to say yes. The whole room filled with cheers as he placed the ring on your finger and stood up to pull you into a kiss. You hugged him tight and his hand rested on the small of your back.

“Yay mommy and daddy are going to get married!”

Shocked, you turn around and see Mia all dressed up. You look up and see Tracy waving at you from the other side and you wave back. Jaehyun picks Mia up and holds her between the both of you.

“See, daddy told you he would love mommy forever.”

[winchesterwild78]

Elevator Encounter pt 1

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Reader, and readers friends

Warnings: Panic Attack, Jensen being a sweetheart, Fluff

A/N: This was another idea given to me by my sweet friend @cheekygirl2309. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t depict real life. No disrespect to Jensen or his family. Jensen is single. Just Jensen being sweet and comforting. I’m going to my first convention in about 2 weeks, and I’m really hoping I don’t have a panic attack in Jensen’s presence. 😂

Might be a few chapters. :) 

*Trigger Warning* Mention of panic attacks

Minors DNI 18+

The fluorescent lights of the convention center flickered overhead as we piled into the elevator, laughter echoing off the mirrored walls. My best friends, Sarah and Emily, were buzzing about the latest cosplay they'd seen, their voices a comforting hum against the backdrop of the bustling crowd. I was starting to feel the weight of the day, the constant stimulation of the convention finally catching up to me.

We were heading to eat dinner at a local restaurant and grab some drinks. As the evening wore on, laughter filled our table. We talked about the day and how we were excited about the photo ops the next day. I was exhausted and wanted to head to the room.

"I think I'll call it a night," I announced, yawning. "I'm exhausted."

"Are you sure? We could grab some drinks at the bar," Sarah suggested.

"No, I'm good. I'll just head back to the room."

Finally getting back to the hotel, I stepped into the elevator, a wave of panic washed over me. My heart pounded in my chest, and my breath came in shallow gasps. I tried to calm myself, focusing on my breathing, but the fear was overwhelming.

The weight of the day and the nerves of the next day came crashing over me.

Suddenly, I realized I wasn't alone. Standing to the side was a figure, obscured by the dim light. As my eyes adjusted, I gasped. It was Jensen Ackles. 

He must have sensed my distress, because he stepped closer. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and concerned.

I nodded, my voice barely a whisper. "I think I'm having a panic attack."

Jensen nodded understandingly. "It's okay. Take your time. Just focus on your breathing and on my voice."

He guided me to a corner of the elevator. As I tried to regulate my breathing, Jensen's presence was a calming influence. He spoke softly, asking me about my favorite episodes of "Supernatural" and sharing stories about his time on the show.

Slowly, the panic began to subside. When I finally felt able to breathe normally, Jensen smiled at me. "You're doing great," he said. "Want to grab a drink? Sometimes, a little distraction helps."

I hesitated, but the thought of a quiet conversation with Jensen was appealing. I nodded, and together, we stepped out of the elevator and into the night.

He took my hand and guided me into the bar. We sat at the back in a corner booth. Drinks were ordered and we made small talk. 

I never thought I’d be sitting in a bar having an intimate conversation with Jensen about life. He was so easy to talk to, and made all my anxiety disappear. 

About an hour into the night, my phone went off. 

Sarah: Hey, where are you?? I came back to the room and you weren’t here. 

Me: I had a panic attack and needed some air. I’m fine. I’ll be back later.

Sarah: Where are you and I’ll come sit with you. Are you okay? Do you need your medicine?

Me: I’m fine, I don’t need my meds. It passed. You just get some sleep, don’t want dark circles under your eyes for the photo ops. 😘

Sarah: If you’re sure you’re fine….

Me: I’m perfect. Love you girl.

Sarah: Okay. Love you too. Don’t pick up any hot celebrities. 

My breath hitched when I read her last text, and my eyes shot up to Jensen.  

“Sorry about that. My friend was checking on me.” He smiled softly and took my hand, “It’s okay. Do you need to go?” 

I shook my head no. “No, I’m fine. Besides, I want to hear more about you.” 

The two of us sat and talked for about another hour. I could tell he was tired but didn’t want to say anything. He was still worried about me. 

“Jensen, I know you have to be on stage in a few hours. Why don’t we head back. We both need some sleep.” 

Jensen yawned and stretched. As he stretched the bottom of his shirt lifted, revealing a little bit of his torso. My heart leaped in my chest and I swallowed hard. 

We paid our tab and Jensen placed his hand on the small of my back guiding me into the night air. 

It was chilly, but I could feel the warmth radiating from Jensen. I shivered. It was brought on by the chilly air and Jensen’s touch. My mind was racing with different thoughts and emotions. 

Arriving back at the hotel Jensen guided me around the back. “It’ll be easier getting in this way. It’s a special VIP access.” He shot me his killer smile. I chuckled, “I like it.” 

“What room are you in,” Jensen asked. “I’m in room 314.” He nodded, took my hand and led me into an elevator, pushing floor 3. 

While in the elevator a pregnant silence fell between us. I broke the silence, “Jensen, thank you for helping me earlier. It means so much to me that you cared enough to help.” He stepped closer, “Can I hug you?” He asked. I swallowed hard and shook my head yes. He wrapped his strong arms around me and pulled me into a hug that I felt through my whole body. 

My breath hitched and I smiled. “Hey, let me get your number. I want to check on you throughout the convention if that’s okay.” I couldn’t believe he wanted to check on me. I handed him my phone and he sent himself a text. “Now you have my number too, in case you need some help.” 

“Wow, Jensen. That’s incredibly kind of you. I swear I won’t share your number.” I smiled. “Good, because I don’t just give it to anyone.” “It’s safe with me, Jensen.” 

The elevator dinged indicating we had arrived at my floor. “Guess this is me, thanks again Jensen.” He stepped out of the elevator with me, “What kind of gentlemen would I be if I didn’t walk you to your door?” 

A blush filled my cheeks. The two of us stepped out and he placed his hand on my lower back again. His touch was soft, but very present. When the two of us arrived at my room I looked up at Jensen. “I had a great time tonight, thank you again for helping me with my panic attack earlier. It’s so embarrassing to have had one in front of you.” Jensen stepped closer, cupping my face, “No, darlin’ don’t ever be embarrassed by something like that. I’ve had them too, and so has Jared. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

I nodded. He leaned in and kissed my cheek softly, “Good night, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Good night, Jensen. I can’t wait for our photo op tomorrow.” He smiled at me and started to walk away. I stood at the door for a few minutes, watching him walk down the hallway. 

He turned around before getting on the elevator and smiled at me. I smiled, waved and went into my room. 

Trying to be quiet I grabbed my clothes and went into the bathroom to change. My phone buzzed. 

Jensen: Good night again. I hope you sleep good 

Me: Good night Jensen, I hope you do too. 

I smiled as I started to change my clothes. My phone buzzed again. 

Jensen: What are you doing? 

Me: changing and getting ready for bed. What are you doing?

Jensen: Laying in bed. I can’t sleep 

Me: Have you even tried? 😂

Jensen: You got me. I haven’t. 

Me: Well maybe you should put your phone down and try. 

Jensen: I could, but I don’t want to. I’d have to stop talking to you. 

I blushed as I read his text. My heart pounded in my chest. I couldn’t believe Jensen was texting me and didn’t want to stop. 

Me: Nothing says you have to. I just don’t want to interfere with your schedule tomorrow. 

Jensen: You’re not interfering with anything, sweetheart. So tell me about yourself. 

Jensen and I texted for about 2 hours. I told him all about me and he talked about himself too. My eyes were getting heavier and I knew I was exhausted. 

Me: Jensen we really should go to sleep. 

Jensen: Yeah. I need my beauty sleep. 😂 

Me: So you’re going to sleep for 5 minutes. 😁

Jensen: Ha! Something like that. 

Me: Good night for real this time. 

Jensen: Good night, Y/N. Sweet dreams. 

Me: Sweet dreams to you too. 

Jensen: 😘

Me: 🤭😘

My heart fluttered in my chest. This couldn’t be happening, could it? Was Jensen flirting or just being nice? 

Guess I have to wait and see. I put my phone on the charger and rolled over letting sleep take over.  As I drifted off to sleep I thought about Jensen and how soft his lips were on my cheek. They felt amazing. 

*Jensen’s POV*

I put my phone down and thought about her. She’s beautiful. So easy to talk to, and she’s funny. I can’t wait to see her later and get her in my arms. 

I run my hands through my hair. What am I doing? I can’t stop thinking about her. The way she was so vulnerable in the middle of her panic attack, the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed and the blush that filled her face when I kissed her cheek. 

Damn, Jensen. Get it together man. She’s probably got a man in her life. A girl like her, no way she’s single. 

I rolled over and started to drift off to sleep, thinking about her and the photo op we have later. Maybe she’ll let me pick the pose and I can hold her in my arms again. 

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.  

Tags: 

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573 

@k-slla @jackles010378 

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 

@roseblue373 @cheynovak 

@jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa 

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 

[g0dwat3rwritings]

i rewrote this ask like three times already trying to word it perfectly lmao. fem!yuu x octavinelle (separately). the pair attends NRC’s annual winter ball together as friends, though they’re both unaware of their mutual crushes on each other. at the end of the ball azul/floyd/jade confess their feelings!! also if possible could yuu’s dress be based on either ariel’s pink one or cinderellas original one (the silvery one) if any part of this was unclear pls feel free to message me and i’ll clear it up! my brains literally melting rn bc i just finished this horrible essay for history and tbh atp im just word vomiting everything out 😭😭

This is my second time writing this, I lost all of my progress the first time 😭

I had so much fun with the second version of Jade's part 💀

@nisobird 🚨🚨azul🚨🚨

Warnings ;; none

Relationship ;; Platonic, turned Romantic

Type ;; Short Story/One-Shot

OCTAVINELLE

Azul Ashengrotto ;; Octavinelle Housewarden ;; Second Year

You were late, and Azul was panicking. Why were you late? Did you just not want to see him? Were you just blowing him off? Azul as terrified of you not coming, not wanting to see him.

Upon seeing the doors open, revealing you, in a dress similar to that of the Sea Princesses, Azul's jaw dropped. He straightened his back upon seeing you come his way.

He gave a small laugh, "well.. you look.. wonderful." You couldn't help the small laugh that came from you, "Thank you. You can blame Vil, he wouldn't let me come in a normal outfit." You laughed.

Azul gave a laugh in return, holding his hand out toward you upon hearing a slow song start overhead. "May I.. have this dance?" He asked, obviously nervous for your response.

You gave a smile and took his hand, "You may." Azul smiled and led you to the dance floor, one hand gliding toward your hip, and the other taking your own hand.

As you danced, he cleared his throat. "If I may, I have something to tell you." You nodded, motioning for him to continue. He gave a small, nervous chuckle. "I think I... No, I know that I love you." He said quickly, before giving a sigh. "That.. wasn't as bad as I'd suspected." He said with a nervous laugh, awaiting your response.

With a small laugh and shake of your head, you responded. "I love you too, Azul."

Jade Leech ;; Octavinelle Vice-Housewarden ;; Second Year

You hung out with the tweel, not exactly fond of the dance floor, especially while wearing heels and a puffy, long dress. "Hey, Jade. Are you good at dancing?"

Jade gave a chuckle, "Why, I'd say I'm all right, but I wouldn't say I'm the best." He admitted, "Although, Floyd is a much better dancer than myself." Jade gave one of his normal, light chuckles.

"Despite how good my other half is at dancing, he finds it.. boring and uninteresting." Jade hummed, taking a sip from the punch he held in his hand.

You gave a laugh, "yeah, that sounds like Floyd." Jade simply nodded in response. "Say, may I talk to you after the ball is through? I have something to tell you." He told you, finishing off his punch.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but you nodded nonetheless. After some more conversation with the eel, the ball was over and Jade guided you outside to somewhere quiet and concluded.

Jade turned to you, "I must admit to you that you are quite entertaining. Assuming you know my brother and I as well as you do, you know that we are very fond of those who are entertaining."

You listened, giving a nod toward the end. "Which is where I'd like to tell you that I-" A shout was heard from a tree, looking over, a fallen Floyd laid on his back at the bottom of the tree. "Oh, just tell 'em, stupid."

Jade and yourself couldn't help but laugh, "tell me what?" You asked. "I love you." He said simply, kissing your forehead lightly.

Floyd Leech ;; Octavinelle ;; Second Year

Floyd had even shocked himself upon asking you to this ball, he had no intent on even coming in the first place. But the idea of seeing you in a dress, all completely dressed up, had him in a chokehold.

"Woah. You look nice." Floyd blinked, and you laughed in response. "Thank you, Floyd." He nodded and held a cup of punch toward you, and you took it. You thanked him once more before taking a sip on it.

"Hey, Shrimpy." Floyd said, getting your attention. "Yeah? What's up?" You asked. "What do you say we get out of here?" You blinked, "Floyd, we both just got here." You said with a laugh. "I know, but if we stay any longer then Crabby or Little Mackerel will come up and steal you. So." He said, making a popping sound with his lips as he waited for your response.

You shook your head with a laugh and nodded, "alright, but where do you want to go?" Floyd shrugged, "I don't care." You laughed, before taking his hand and simply taking him back to Ramshackle.

His eyes were glued to his hand even after you'd gotten to Ramshackle. You snorted, "Floyd." You said, waving a hand in front of his face. "Huh?"

"what's up with you?" You laughed, and Floyd shrugged in response, simply resting his chin on your head. He spoke up after minutes of standing like that. "Hey, Shrimpy?" He said, "yeah?"

"Love you." He said simply, kissing the top of your head before reverting back to resting his chin on top of your head.

[blitheringbongus]

In which Scar knows he’s in love

In which Scar falls asleep at a Boatem party, and the morning after.

Or: Scars down bad for Mumbo and doesn’t know how to deal with it

Warnings: mentioned alcohol, hangover, headaches, mentioned dying (in Minecraft, where you respawn, nothing painful), mentioned toxic masculinity (only one line, not too severe)

Scar watched the two red lights dance in his blurry vision as they moved in a slow and rythmatic manner. He smiled up at them, they were so pretty, and he felt so heavy. The darkness around his eyes crept closer until he couldn’t see any more. Distant muffled music closed to an end, and he breathed. He could see his breath, cold and unwavering, though fading back into the darkness. He blinked, and god, did he feel that blink. His eyes felt cold and dry. He looked around. Darkness, everywhere. But then, a looming light, overhead, holding that same crimson he saw as he passed out. He watched it with amazement, it didn’t scare him, it comforted him.

He smelled motor oil and pinecones and warmth. He smelled electricity and melted wax and happiness.

And he didn’t smell that familiar cold. He felt warm.

His eyes warmed up, and they weren’t dry anymore, they weren’t freezing. They felt nice, they felt normal.

He looked down and he was fully dressed. He looked beside himself and there were stars. Beautiful, blinking, stars. Were they eyes?

He moved his head to the side, and his face touched something soft. It smelled stronger of that wonderful smell than his surroundings, and so he buried his nose in it, and breathed. And his breath wasn’t to be seen.

—

„Is he smelling you?“ Impulse laughed and pointed at the man, face shoved deep in the neck of his fellow hermit Mumbo. The fellow hermit, in response, laughed nervously with Impulse, and said, ��he must be dreaming of smelling pies- like in those old cartoons! You know when they float-„

Grian chuckled and agreed, setting his drink down on the stone floor of The Boatem Hole, „We should prank him,“ he smiled.

Pearl lightly punched his shoulder, „I was just about to get me markers and cream,“ Grian snickered mischievously. „Maybe a mustache, like our CEO‘s?“

They collectively agreed.

—

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to get drunk in The Boatem Hole. A hole that went beneath Bedrock, falling in which would result in certain death in the void, earning that yucky staticy feeling. But the Boatem crew loved that hole, so they had all their meetings there. Including parties. It was really, really stupid. But it was fun.

Many deaths occured that night. Nothing the crew couldn’t handle, though.

The following morning, Scar would awaken in his own bed, it was warm and it was comfortable. It would be more comfortable if he hadn’t had that headache, he realized as a pang of pain shot through his head.

Scar sat up, and dragged his hand over his face, trying to wake himself up a bit.

He blinked slowly, something felt absent. What felt absent? He looked around. There was a glass of water and some pills on the side of his bed, huh. He usually wasn’t that prepared- someone must’ve put it there… maybe Jellie?

He washed a pill down with the water, and groggily got up. He was in his clothes from the day before, minus his Jacket, shoes and corset. Hey, when’d he take his vest off?

He blinked slowly, and noticed his missing clothes folded neatly on the ‚couch‘ in his room. The builder scratched his head. His mouth tasted disgusting, he should brush his teeth.

He sighed, and he sauntered to the bathroom.

It looked fairly normal, unchanged. He stepped infront of the mirror and reached for his toothbrush, putting paste on it, wetting it up, reaching it towards his mouth, looking up, and stopping-

He nearly dropped his toothbrush as he exhaled a quiet laugh. His face was scribbled all over! He started brushing his teeth, and observed his general appearance. He has a quite dashing mustache drawn on his upper lip, long and curled at the end. ‚Almost like Mumbos‘ he thought, but he knew, nothing could match the mustacheness of Mumbos mustache. A drawn monocle adorned his face, although that one looked less dashing, and more crude. Definitely Grian. He had whiskers drawn on his face in squiggly lines, Pearl, and a shaky heart on his jaw, Impulse. Now where did Cub draw? Was he even at the party? Scar wasnt even sure if Cub was a part of Boatem.

His hair was a disaster, to put it lightly. Hairstrands were sticking up and to the side in places they shouldn’t and those were. Quite a few knots. That’s going to be hell to comb. What happened last night?

His suspenders were down, hanging against the sides of his thighs. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, and his sleeves, well, one sleeve was rolled up, and one sleeve wasn’t. Both were unbuttoned.

He definitely had to shower.

He spit the toothpaste into the sink and washed his mouth and toothbrush respectively.

Scar stretched with a wince as he heard his neck and back pop.

After his well needed shower, and getting dressed, Scar grabbed some food and exited his wagon, wincing at the sunlight. Grumbling over the sun, and the fact that he was unable to scrub the marker off, he merely smudged it, he ate and searched for Grian, making a beeline towards the mans house.

He knocked on the mans door and waited barely two seconds before opening it, entering the pesky birds home. „I know what you did, Gri!“ he called into the home, and he heard a muffled noise coming from Grians bedroom.

He went up the stairs, and he knocked on Grians door, and he opened it, finding Grian still half asleep in his bed, wearing the same clothes as yesterday like Scar did when he woke up. His fellow builder emidded whiny noises, „shhhsjihs quietttt Scarrr“ he drew out, burying his face in his pillow and lifting the sides of it to cover his ears.

„What happened last night?“ Scar asked simply, he only remembers the smell of melted wax and warmth, among other things, but he couldn’t seem to remember anything else, only blurry images, none of which he could yet identify. How wasted did he get?

Grian responded with a snore, and Scar knew he was asleep, so he left the mans home. He’ll prank him for this later, he’ll prank all of them! He shook his fist at the angry sun, and he audibly whined at the bright beams of it.

Who’s next on his list.. he looked around, either Impulse or Pearl or Mumbo. Who would be awake at this time? Both Impulse and Mumbo were early risers, but Scar genuinely had no clue where Impulses living quarters were in that huge base of his. And so, he chose Mumbo.

He made his way towards Treesa, and he weakly climbed her vines, and he fell, and he groaned, and he climbed again.

Now inside the mustached mans base, he blinked his eyes a few times, and he smelled pinecone, and he smelled motor oil.

He inhaled the scent, and the light was just right in Treesa. He moved the vines to cover up the makeshift doorway, and he sauntered to search for Mumbo.

He found him fairly easily, he was still sleeping in bed, in his van, it seemed. What time was it? How come Scar awoke before Mumbo or seemingly Impulse? He shrugged, and he leaned down to get a better look at Mumbo, the only hermit he’s seen today covered by a blanket whilst sleeping. He looked peaceful, and the smell of electricity and warmth strengthened.

He kneeled, and he gently shook the mans shoulder, and Mumbo huffed, and Mumbo rolled over.

Scar couldn’t help but smile.

He leaned over and onto the bed partially, his torso hovering over it, and he shook the mans shoulder again. „Pssst, Mumbooo wakey wakey eggs and bakey, dude!“ he almost whispered.

He’s more gentle with Mumbo than with Grian, he knows why, but he won’t admit it to himself. He knows why he looks at him differently than the other Boatem members, he knows why he wants to learn every last detail of the man, he knows why every touch they share feels electric to him, he knows why he dreams of him, and he knows why-

Scar was pulled out of his thoughts by the noise of Mumbo groaning. The redstoner blinked his eyes open slowly, looking up and above at the builder looming over him.

His eyes were half lidded and glossy, his usually neat dark hair was messy and curled.

„Scar?“ Mumbo muttered out, muffled by the blanket covering the underside of his face. He tugged the blanket away from it slowly, going below his neck.

Suddenly, Scar forgot all about why he went to wake Mumbo up, he just looked down at him and felt that tug in his chest again.

He was so pretty.

Could a man be considered pretty? Could a man be considered beautiful? Scar grew up being taught those terms were rude to refer a man to, but those were also the only words Scar found himself being able to describe the man below him. He was pretty and he was beautiful and oh gods he was in love.

„Scar?“ Mumbo tilted his head, tired and confused, and Scar wanted to kiss him. He’d never.

The builder blinked a few times before his brain started working again. „Hm? Oh, right! Mumbo! Do you have any idea what happened last night? Because my brain completely blanked yesterday,“

Mumbo reached up to rub his own eyes, leaning up a bit on his elbows, which made Scar lean back a bit, they were so close.. „Well you fell asleep, and so we decided to draw on your face, I figure you’ve already made out that part?“ he said in a soft voice, it was almost faint, the man was still waking up. Scar wanted to hear his voice like that every morning.

Scar chuckled, „yes, yes. I’ve made out that much, but what else? I honestly barely remember anything!“ „well what do you remember?“ Mumbo sat up more, not having to lean on his elbows anymore, and Scar leaned back further, opting to instead get up and sit on the mans bed. „Mh..“ Scar looked at Mumbo in thought. „Well, I remember that at some point we played duck duck goose?“ „Oh that was before we even touched any alcohol, how quickly are you able to get black out drunk-„

Mumbo looked at the man with bewilderment in his eyes, but he still looked tired. „I’m a lightweight,“ he simply answered. „Hey, how about we talk about this when you’re more awake, hm?“ Scar put a hand on Mumbos shoulder and guided him to lay down again, Mumbo complied.

The tired redstoner made an agreeing noise, and slowly moved himself so he’s laying on his side, curled up and quickly slipping back into dreamland.

Scar watched, and Scar wanted to stay. Was he allowed to? The sight of his fellow hermit falling asleep so quickly and so easily made him tired all the same. He could lay with him, for a bit. He’d get up and leave before Mumbo does. He yawned, and he laid down gently beside the man, watching the back of his head. He rarely sees the mans hair ungeeled, it looked so soft. He wanted to touch it, he wanted to touch him, he didn’t.

He laid his hands folded underneath his head, and closed his eyes, smelling motor oil and pinecones and warmth, smelling electricity and melted wax and happiness.

And he fell asleep, and he was happy.

[spookyghouly]

goodevening ghesties

i luckily tested negative for covid this morning meaning i was FINALLY free from quarantine isolation just in time to go to the ghost concert!! this is my 5th ritual in as many years and it may have been the best (though, you never forget your first 😉). here’s my ghost kia forum night 1 concert breakdown of best moments, in no particular order!

cumulus and aurora ghoulettes twirling each other, blowing kisses to each other, stroking each other’s cheeks. this one was for the dykes <3

popia, drawing out the ending to mary on a cross: “are you guys still saying cross?? I want you to say MARIJUANA!!!!!”

ABSOLUTION F U C K E D LIVE!!!!

Respite ALSO fucked like the BASS IN THE BEGINNING?? I FELT IT IN MY CHEST IN MY LUNGS, I THINK IT MADE MY HEART BEAT DIFFERENTLY. SOUL RESET. I almost cried when copia left the stage thinking about how this is probably my last time seeing him (I completely forgot the encore existed I was too swept up in It All ™ you know?)

Dancing Skeletons. They better release the film because I want to study it to learn their dance.

they had two stages set up, the normal one up front and a mini set up in the back with a grand piano and several chairs. more on that in a sec.

Seestor gave papa a boxing robe and gloves for “fighting” his way back from the small stage to the main stage. the crowd started barking at him to hype him up like he was actually about to enter a boxing ring lmaoo

when he got to the back stage papa said it was so nice to see the people in the back “in the stevie wonder seats” lmaoooo

then he said he wanted to bite us???? and had us all snarl at him like we were biting dogs. deranged behavior. love him.

okay no my true fav moment was the orchestral arrangement of if you have ghosts. it put me in such a throwback to the first ghost ritual I attended in london when he took time to introduce each band member just as ghoul. 5 years later and on another continent, it is an even more beautiful arrangement of the song. The band members were 2 cellists and a grand piano player—I couldn’t tell if the woman to the far right was playing a theremin or vocalizing—if anyone knows can you tell me?

the skeletons picked papa up at the stage right mini stage and had him like crowd surf on top of them all the way back to center stage it was AWESOME?? I hope they got a cool overhead shot of it for the recording.

they definitely knew we were all anxious he was dying tonight and there were many moments where papa faked us out that he was dying. after the first or second song he made a comment like “ah we are quickly approaching the end of this era” and later when he told us to “not be sad it’s almost over, you’ve had a good fucking time and then it must end” I couldn’t help but think he was talking about more than just the concert

on a related note, when the skeletons first came out in twenties they circled papa and I think it was a deliberate fake out/homage to when he ascended in mexico city last year when the nuns circled him.

met many delightful ppl giving away handmade bracelets, stickers, and trinkets, as well as someone who had scooped up a bunch of mummy dust bucks from the confetti gun and was passing them out by the exit 🥰💜 u people made my day

anyway here’s that haul:

this has been the update from new plushia at the forum, goodnight folks!

[bugwolfsstuff]

The Cupid scene but make it unrequited? Valgrace

Meant to finish this yesterday but couldn't get it done in time so heres it now. I'm not completly happy with it but im just glad its done.

-------

"You cannot lie to Cupid, Leo Valdez. If you let your shame and sadness rule you...well, your fate will be even sadder than mine," Favonius said, and Leo could have sworn there was pity in his eyes before the god disappeared in the wind.

Leo felt like he was back in Khione's ice palace. There was no way this wind god he just met knew his deepest, darkest, never-to-be-said-out-loud feelings. Right?.

Right?.

No, he must be talking about something else, and Leo is just being stupid and paranoid. He has to be.

Fortunately, or, more unfortunately, Leo didn't have the time to dwell on the ominous words of wind gods.

Because the ground was shaking. Why was the ground shaking?

So. A voice said.

Something zipped past his face and nicked his ear, throwing him off his feet and into Jason. Pain blossomed in his right ear, and he was pretty sure he was bleeding.

"You okay?" Jason asked, catching him in his strong arms.

Leo winced, holding a hand to his injured ear as he scrambled to his feet, trying not to think about the fact he just fell in Jason's arms. "Yeah, I'm good," he muttered.

You come to claim the sceptre. The voice said behind them, more like stating rather than asking.

Leo turned to where the voice was coming from, but no one was there.

"Cupid!" Jason called, standing at Leo's back with his sword drawn, "Where are you?".

The voice—Cupid laughed. It definitely did not sound like it belonged to a sweet baby angel's. It sounded rich and velvety but also threatening— like an ember in a fire before burning a house to the ground.

Where you least expect me. Cupid answered, As love usually is.

Leo's heart skipped a beat as something invisible slammed into Jason and hurled him across the street. He toppled down a set of concrete steps and sprawled on the floor of an excavated Roman basement.

I thought you'd know better, Jason. Cupid's voice circled overhead like a vulture. You've found true love after all. Or do you still doubt yourself?

"Jason!" Leo screamed, scrambling down the steps.

Jason took his hand and got to his feet. "I'm okay! Just sucker punched by an angel."

Oh, Did you expect me to play fair? Cupid laughed. Make no mistake; I am no angel, Jason Grace. I am Love. I am never fair. 

Oh boy, do I know that. Leo thought dryly before Jason swept him off his feet.

Literally not...not metaphorically.

Leo was swept into Jason's chest as Jason intercepted an arrow that would have gone straight into Leo's chest with his sword. The arrow exploded against the nearest wall, giving them a nice limestone shower.

Of course, Jason wasn't done giving Leo butterflies in his stomach and grabbed his hand, pulling him up the steps and behind another wall as another arrow rained down on them, shattering a column nearby into a thousand pieces.

"Is this guy Love or Death?" Jason growled, still holding Leo's hand.

Thanatos and I are often not so different. Cupid said from somewhere above, except Death is usually kinder.

Leo understood that more than he should: Death is just...well, death. The End. Just boom, you're dead! No more pain. No more problems. And if you're lucky, you get to chill in Elysium for eternity. 

While Love is...terrifying: It hurts, sometimes it doesn't last long, and some just don't get it (cough cough).

"We just want the sceptre!" Jason shouted, poking his head above the stone wall. "We're trying to stop Gaia! Are you on the gods' side or not?"

A second arrow shot at the air dangerously close to Jason's head, landing on the ground near Leo's feet and glowing white-hot. 

The arrow's temperature shot past 2,397 F (Hephaestus power.) before combusting into a geyser of flame. 

Love is on every side. Cupid said. "And no one's side. Don't ask what Love can do for you.

"Great," Jason said. "Now he's spouting greeting cards as well as trying to kill us."

"It's official. Queen was right; Too much Love kills you," Leo joked. If Love is gonna kill him in the end, then at least he wants to make Jason laugh before they both die.

Leo caught a ghost of a smile on Jason's lips before another arrow landed between them, ruining the moment.

You can't hide from Love. It will always find you no matter what. Cupid's voice said nearby.

Leo's hair sparked; the idea of burning the feathers off that smug, overgrown chicken's wings was getting more and more enticing. He knew Cupid was toying with them, enjoying their discomfort as he shot his stupid arrows.

Another arrow narrowly missed him, and something inside of him snapped.

He snatched the arrow up and threw it back where it came from. "Enough games, show yourself!"

Lucky for him, he had good aim. The arrow hit something and hung in the air for a moment before dissolving, leaving no trace: not even a spot of ichor that could help pinpoint his location.

"...Very good, Leo," Cupid said, though it was strained. There wasn't a wound, but it must have hurt. "At least you can sense my presence. Even getting a glance at true love is more than most Heroes manage. Maybe there's hope for you after all".

"So we get the sceptre?" Jason asked.

Cupid laughed. Leo was seriously getting sick of that laugh.

Oh no, there is still much you can do for me.

Jason started to speak, "But—"

An arrow shot through the air, zipping past Jason and hitting Leo square in the shoulder.

"Leo!"

There was a burst of pain in Leo's right shoulder, and suddenly, he was back at the Wilderness School again.

He had just met this cool guy, Jason. He was also a foster kid like him. Jason seemed too good for a school like this. He wouldn't tell him and Piper what he was here for, just that his case worker, Juna— Juno or something — sent him here.

Piper told him later on that she thought Jason was kinda hot.

Leo thought so too but he didn't tell her that. 

Another arrow hit him in the back this time. 

He wasn't sure when Piper and Jason started dating; it had only felt like a day had passed since they met.

He pretended it didn't hurt.

He didn't dare ruin their happiness.

So he just smiled and bared it every time they flirted with each other and told jokes every time they kissed.

"Stop it!" Leo shrieked, "None of it was real! Hera faked everything!"

Not everything, Cupid said softly, and a third arrow dug into his skin.

This time he was on their first quest in Boreas's ice palace.

Khione told them he couldn't come with them to see Boreas because of his fire.

He played it off that he wasn't hurt about it, even though it did. It wasn't the first or last time someone was scared of him.

Jason tried to defend him at first with his hand on Leo's shoulder, which only made him love him more.

And it sting more when Jason walked away holding hands with Piper, leaving him alone with Cal.

It was fine. None of it was real, not even his feelings were, and even if they were, it's not like he could act on them. He was just the funny guy, the mechanic, the seventh wheel. He wasn't supposed to fall for his male best friend, who was already dating his other best friend. He wasn't supposed to want something more than friendship with Jason.

He bit back the tears that were already threatening to fall. The grass at his feet was starting to smoke. "Show yourself!" He screamed.

It is a costly thing, Cupid said, looking on the true face of Love.

Another column shattered. Jason barely scrambled out of its way in time.

My wife Psyche learned that lesson, Cupid said, She was brought here aeons ago when this was the site of my palace. We only met in the dark. She was warned to never look upon me, and yet she could not stand the mystery. She feared I was a monster. One night, she lit a candle and beheld my face as I slept.

Jason said something, but Leo couldn't hear him over the sound of his own heart pounding in his chest. He could still somehow hear Cupid though. Of course, Love was the only thing he could hear other than his heart.

Cupid laughed from somewhere at the edge of the Amphitheater. I was too handsome, actually. A mortal can't look upon a god's true appearance without suffering grave consequences; just look at poor Semele. My mother, Aphrodite, cursed Psyche for her distrust. My poor lover was tormented, forced into exile and given impossible tasks to prove herself. She was even sent to the underworld on a quest to show her dedication. She earned her way back to me, but she suffered greatly.

Leo had no clue what he was talking about, but it sounded like he was a terrible husband.

Jason thrust his sword into the sky like he was a demigod He-man and was about to yell, 'By the power of Jupiter!' and beat up Cupid.

Unfortunately, he did not do that. 

Instead, the ground shook, and lightning blasted a crater where Cupid's voice was coming from.

There was silence, and for a moment Leo thought it was over and that they could get the sceptre and leave. And hopefully, never speak of this day again.

Leo should have known they were never that lucky.

An invisible force—Cupid, knocked Jason to the ground, sending his sword skittering across the road.

A good try, Cupid said, his voice already distant. But love isn't so easily pinned down.

A wall collapsed, Jason barely managed to roll out of the way.

That was enough for Leo.

"Hey!" Leo yelled, waving his arms around. "It's me you want! Not him!. Leave him alone!"

Poor Leo Valdez. The god's voice was patronizing and tinged with disappointment. Do you really know what You want, much less what I want? My beloved Psyche risked everything in the name of Love to win my trust back. And you — what have You risked in my name?

"I'm literally saving the world!" He yelled, clenching his fists, "I've faced way worse! You don't scare me!"

I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest.

Jason struggled to get up off the ground, and a piece of Leo's heart broke. This was all his fault. He knew exactly what Cupid wanted. But he didn't want to admit it just yet.

All around Leo, the ground started to heat up. Grass smoked, and stones steamed.

"Give us Diocletian's sceptre." He said, trying to put his best brave face on. "We don't have time for games."

Games? Leo's breath was knocked away as a hand slapped him sideways into a granite pedestal. Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work — a quest that never ends. It demands everything you have — especially honesty. Only then does it rewards.

Pain blosomed from Leo's...everywhere. His head spun from the pain, and the ground started to heat up more. Stones were starting to crack, and the grass was starting to spark. All it would take was one more push, and everything would burn.

Jason was up now and had retrieved his sword, "Leo!" he called, "What does this guy want from you?".

Leo's lip trembled. Everything was going so wrong. He didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to tell Jason. "I don't know!" He yelled back, and an arrow embedded itself in the pedestal, inches away from Leo's face.

Tell him, Leo Valdez, Cupid ordered. His voice was starting to get less patient now. Tell him you're a coward, that you're afraid of yourself and your feelings. Tell him why you hide among your machines like your father. Tell him the real reason you run and why you're always alone.

Leo gritted his teeth, his entire body trembling with pain and frustration. Cupid's words cut through him like a knife, exposing the raw truth that he had been desperately trying to bury.

The grass started to burn and the stone's cracks got bigger.

"I... I can't," Leo stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't tell him."

Cupid's laughter echoed around them, mocking and cruel. "You see, Jason Grace? Your friend is afraid. Afraid of his own feelings, afraid of the truth. He hides behind his jokes and his bravado, but deep down, he knows."

Leo let loose a guttural scream, and like a volcano erupting; everything exploded at once.

Magma burst from the rocks, splitting them wide open. The grass combusted into green flames — Greek fire —he really is going to burn everything down.

"H—haaa"

Leo laughed through the tears. It was really all he could do and all he really ever did. It was funny really; he'd worked so hard to shove everything down, yet it was all destroyed in a fiery explosion in less than an hour.

A nearby tree collapsed dangerously close to Jason as the fire consumed it. "Leo! What is he talking about?" He almost couldn't hear his voice over the fire.

Will you hide forever, Leo Valdez? Cupid taunted, who unfortunately can still be heard because not even fire can shut him up. Will you let fear rule your heart, or will you finally have the courage to face the truth?

He didn't want to face the truth. He was too scared of what would happen. What might Jason say. How he'd react.

He just wanted to keep things the same.

Even if it kills him.?

Leo sobbed, and the flames burned brighter. If this was love then he didn't want it. Or maybe if love was this painful then he deserved it. Another arrow pierced his back—or maybe that was the feeling of his heart breaking more—and more images flashed through his mind.

He was back on that mountain in Colorado. Jason had his arms around Piper, his face scrunched up in concern. Leo pretended it didn't bother him. It was cold, and Piper ended up getting hyperthermia. He had tried to ignore the aching in his chest. He didn't want to think about how much he wanted to be in her place.

After their quest, they left him alone while he worked on the Argo II. He named it after the ship the first Jason sailed on.

It was all for Jason.

He was back on the Argo right after he had fired on New Rome—Jason's home. Everyone was angry with him, and Jason was in the infirmary; some asshole threw a brick at his head. 

He didn't go down to him. He couldn't face Jason.

It was all his fault.

Jason got hurt because of him.

And he didn't even have the guts to face him.

There were more scenes like this flooding his senses. At some point, his brain switched off, and he was just drowning in agony. He couldn't move or speak.

He was weak.

Meanwhile, the flames grew to an inferno of green and reds, drowning out everything. Leo's hair was a white flame. An outline of wings caught fire for a moment before being put out again.

"Interesting!" Cupid's voice said from somewhere above. Do you have strength after all?

"I...I can't," Leo said, though it sounded more like a whimper. He was on his knees now. 

Heh, too weak to admit your feelings and too weak to stand, his mind mocked in Cupid's voice.

Still hiding, Cupid said above, a flame burned an outline of a wing tip before going out again. You do not have the strength.

Leo sobbed. He really was weak. He was going to burn everything down just because he didn't want to admit his feelings.

"Leo" Jason yelled from somewhere. "It's okay! I get it!"

Leo stared at the burning grass below him. It was too hot for tears to fall. Only steam came from his eyes. 

"No, you don't," He said defeatedly. Jason didn't understand. He couldn't understand. If he understood, then he wouldn't be so nice to Leo. "There's no way you understand. If you did you'd hate me".

And so you run away again, Cupid chided, From yourself, from your feelings, and from your friends.

The fire had engulfed Cupid's wings now. But the god laughed cruelly and blew it away.

"Leave him alone Cupid," Jason croaked somewhere. "This isn't your..."

Oh gods, he was hurting Jason again. The smoke is choking him.

Cupid's laugh echoed from above the flames. But oh, it is exactly my business, Jason Grace. Love is me. I am love.

"Leo!" Jason choked out through the smoke.

Oh, you're killing him, you're killing him. Leo's brain screamed. You're a monster, you're such a fucking monster, and you're weak.

"Look, I don't care if you're in love with Piper!" 

He doesn't understand. He doesn't. He doesn't. Leo's brain screamed over and over again.

Cupid laughed again, and Leo's will broke.

"I—I'm not in love with Piper," Leo said, and everything seemed to go silent.

The fire subsided and all of Leo's fight and denial went out at once.

Cupid circled Leo like a shark. His form was visible now—long blond hair, muscular in a simple white frock and jeans, snowy white wings that were singed at the tips. The bow and quiver slung over his shoulder were weapons of war—not toys. His eyes were as red as blood, as if every heart in the world was broken and squeezed dry into one poisonous mixture.

Leo vaguely recalled that some think that Eros was a son of Ares and Aphrodite. And he could see why:

Love and War were the most painful things in the world.

He gestured for Leo to continue.

"I have a crush on you, Jason." Leo said.

The fire died down so Leo could see Jason's face.

And he swore he saw pity in his eyes.

The End

[zablife]

My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars-Part 1

Luca Changretta x OC (Aurora Sabini Changretta)

Summary: Luca and Aurora Changretta come to the UK to avenge the murder of Luca's brother and father. However, as their volatile marriage unravels, events take an unexpected turn.

Author's Note: This has been on my mind since I created the moodboard ages ago. And it's been requested in several forms, the most recent being a lovely anon who wanted to see Tommy with an American mafia girl. OC Rose Solomons belongs to @raincoffeeandfandoms. Prequel has been posted as phone calls in two parts here and here. I would def recommend reading that before starting this fic! One more part coming soon!

Warnings: language, domestic violence, mention of blood, use of ethnic slur

☀️🌙✨MASTERLIST

Luca stood pointing at a map with his forefinger, tracing a path from the garden to the center of Arrow House, mumbling in a low voice to his men. Thunder rumbled overhead as Aurora made her way into the room, unnoticed by everyone, skirting the perimeter of the room as she listened carefully. When she’d heard enough she spoke up from the back of the room, voice even and measured to show she was in control as much as her husband. “Non sono d’accordo, Luca.”

Luca’s head shot up as he searched between the faces to find his wife, though he thought he’d caught a hint of her perfume moments earlier, taunting him as he attempted to strategize. 

“It’s too risky to approach him at home again,” Aurora declared, stalking toward the desk with cigarette in hand. The smoke parted the men before her arrival at the table and she stamped out her cigarette a bit too forcefully before joining her husband where he stood. Although she hadn’t been invited to give her opinion, she’d been listening to every word, silently judging the ludicrous plan Luca was suggesting.

“Don’t you remember what the intelligence said about his family? They’re gypsies, fucking savages,” she emphasized. “And he’ll be expecting us this time so he'll have even more protection,” Aurora said with a dismissive shake of her head. Luca’s face and neck reddened at the scolding tone of her voice, his blood boiling instantly at the brazen way she dared to usurp his power.

The air grew thick with their silence and as Aurora’s eyes scanned the room, she noticed not one of the men looked in her direction. They shifted uncomfortably as Luca reached for a matchstick, placing it between gritted teeth.

A low growl emitted before his words, causing everyone to stand at attention once more. “And what would you have me do, tesoro?” he said the pet name without any hint of warmth, but Aurora did not back away. In fact, she stepped closer to her husband, standing just below his shoulder as she placed a hand to his forearm gently. 

“I’m only asking that we consider a few more options,” she said diplomatically. Then she reasoned, “There must be another way to get to Tommy Shelby. His sister’s home in London or perhaps one of his factories. We’ll have to wait for him to come to us this time.”

Luca removed the match from his mouth as she spoke, lighting it and held it perilously close to her face as he taunted, “We smoke him out, principessa? Is that what you want?” he asked moving even closer, the flame in danger of catching her loose curls on fire.

Aurora didn’t blink as she watched the flame dance before her eyes. She could feel the heat close to her skin and her pulse quickened. “Basta cosi!,” she warned with raised eyebrow.

As lightning flashed outside the office window the spell was broken, Luca blew out the match with a dark chuckle. Turning to his men he concluded with a wave of his hand, “You heard my wife.” Then rolling up the map before him with haste he added, “We’ll pick this up tomorrow when everyone’s rested.” Everyone filed out, but Matteo and Enzo remained to ensure nothing else was needed for the evening. Aurora remained at the window as Luca instructed, “Seven o’ clock sharp, you understand?” 

“Yes, boss,” Matteo and Enzo replied, trudging toward their rooms. It was only their second night in England and they had not yet acclimated to the time difference. They felt the exhaustion seeping into their bones, the relentless demands weighing on them heavily. 

Before they could move more than a few steps down the corridor, they heard the shouting begin. As the sound of glass shattering broke the crescendo of voices, Matteo ran a hand down his face, a hint of irritation as he sighed heavily. “Do you have the number for the hospital?” he asked his associate.

Enzo nodded slowly. “And the morgue,” he added solemnly, eyes lingering on the doorknob. He didn’t want to listen to the distinct sounds of Luca’s blows striking the object of his ire or Aurora’s muffled cries, but he would have to stand watch until it was over to know how to proceed. 

Luca tired easily tonight and Aurora limped from the suite thirty minutes later, hair disheveled to hide the bruise forming across her cheekbone. She fell once, picking herself up from the hard wooden floor with a sniffle and Matteo and Enzo turned from her as though they hadn’t seen her in ruin, a familiar routine of make believe.

“Let’s get some fucking sleep,” Matteo said when she disappeared into a separate room.

Enzo had just closed the door to his room and kicked off his shoes when the phone began to ring.

“Enzo, what’s going on? Luca hasn’t phoned,” Mr. Sabini grumbled.

“Luca’s been…working on strategy,” Enzo fumbled, thinking of the fight he’d just witnessed. He didn’t dare mention it to Aurora’s father though. Out of everyone who knew of their tumultuous marriage, Antonio Sabini was somehow unaware of his daughter’s plight. 

As if on cue, Antonio asked, “How’s Aurora?” 

Enzo gulped as he thought of a reply. “You know, she’s got her ideas,” he said truthfully.

“That’s my little girl!,” Antonio answered proudly. "She's got a sharp mind and she's good under pressure!" he boasted. "Mark my words, Enzo, this vendetta will end as quickly as it started now that Luca has my Aurora by his side. She won't lose any of our men either because she's much more delicate than he is with these affairs you see. Luca's always been too temperamental," he mused.

"Yeah," Enzo agreed quietly, hoping Mr. Sabini was right.

“Keep me informed. I want to know everything,” Antonio said sternly. “And keep Aurora out of danger if it comes to that.”

“Yes, sir,” Enzo reluctantly agreed, unsure how he was going to keep the promise. 

“And Enzo, buy her blue hydrangeas tomorrow,” Antonio ordered. “They’re her favorite. I don’t want her feeling homesick,” he added softly, the fondness of a memory seeping into his voice and making it much quieter than before.

“Of course,” Enzo said, replacing the heavy receiver in the cradle and falling into bed, only to be awoken an hour later by the sounds of lovemaking in the room next door.

—————————————-

At seven the next morning, Aurora entered Luca’s office, smiling to herself as she held a large bouquet in her arms. All the men in the room turned to drink in the sight of her glamour, a trait that lived on in her from her exceptionally beautiful mother. Enzo and Matteo exchanged knowing glances as they traced the lines of her face, noting how talented she’d become at hiding the swelling and bruises. 

Although it sickened them to watch, she bent low to capture Luca’s mouth in a tender kiss, pulling away to breath a near silent “mi dispiace” against his lips. For reasons known only to her and Luca, they always fell back into each other’s arms. It was as predictable as the rising sun.

“I know you are, baby,” he replied, turning her out of his lap. 

“Grazie, amore,” she said sweetly holding up the flowers and stroking his cheek adoringly.

Luca knitted his brow, a hint of confusion noticeable, before he glanced up at his wife with a smug grin. “Of course, sweetheart. If you’ll excuse us, there’s business this morning and I think you had your say last night.”

Aurora nodded obediently and went to put the flowers in water as though in a trance. As soon as the door had shut behind her, Luca’s expression changed to a deep grimace. “Which one of you assholes got flowers for my wife?” He leaned forward onto his elbows, awaiting an answer.

Soon Enzo spoke up with a slight tremble in his voice. “It was me, but it wasn’t because of last night, Luca.”

Luca narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck did you say to me?”

“Her father asked me to get ‘em,” Enzo clarified with a slight cough, suddenly remembering his lines in the play they were subconsciously rehearsing at any given moment.

“Figlio di puttana!” Luca said, smacking the desk with his palm. “He spoiled her and now look how she acts!”  He shook his head with an indignant scoff, turning to look out the window. “Thank God she married a man like me to keep her in her place, right?”

———————————————

“We aren’t in Darby’s territory any more. Where are we going, Luca?,” Aurora asked as the car bumped along the narrow roads. Luca turned to look out the window as though he didn’t hear, second guessing his decision to bring his wife along to the negotiations with the mad baker of Camden Town. However, Aurora would not be ignored. She had played the dutiful wife for weeks so as not to insult his manhood further, but every attempt at moving closer to Tommy Shelby had failed, resulting in multiple casualties. To make matters worse, every man lost was a member of her own family, brought from New York to aid the Changrettas in their vendetta. The idea of losing more men sickened her and she began to consider the possibility that she would have to challenge her husband once more.

Then Luca spoke up, but he only offered a sliver of information. “We’re on our way to Camden Town, alright?” he said before settling back into his seat with a sigh.

Aurora was raised at her father’s elbow watching the deals he made and how he researched his enemies. However, there were things she’d learned on her own as a result of being the only woman in a room full of men. How you had to demure and make them think an idea had been their own. She’d learned the art of manipulation and weaponized it early on as a means of survival. Today called for such an approach.

“An alliance with the Jews? That’s clever,” she praised, hoping her guess was correct. Running a hand along his knee seductively, she waited for Luca to confirm her suspicions.

Luca turned to face his wife, a surprised look on his face. “And how do you know about Alfie Solomons?” 

“He’s connected to the east Boston Jews. But, Darby knows him, of course. Says he’s unpredictable and violent,” Aurora added wearily.

She watched the muscles in Luca’s jaw tighten beneath the shadow of his fedora, knowing he didn’t like Aurora involving herself. Rubbing two fingers against his chin thoughtfully, he dismissed her concern. “I’ve spoken to your father and he approves. That’s all you need to know,” Luca said firmly.

“I wish you would tell me more about today,” she cajoled.

“No, amore. Not this time,” Luca said, clasping his large fingers over her gloved hand and giving her a squeeze that bordered on painful reprimand.

As the car jerked to a stop in front of a dilapidated building in Camden Town, she turned to her husband and took once last desperate chance as they exited the vehicle. “Luca, let me speak to Mr. Solomons. A woman’s touch to the negotiations might be just the thing to keep him from erupting,” she said innocently.

This infuriated Luca and he pulled her back, making her stumble on the rough cobblestones. “Like hell you will. This is my deal!” he spat.

“That concerns my family name and my blood!” Aurora retaliated, batting at his chest with her fists, unable to control herself further.

Luca’s eyes blazed with fury, striking her with full force and causing her to fall to the ground. Landing on rough stone, she sliced her arm as she hit, immaculate clothing ruined in the filthy street.

“Get the fuck up,” Luca commanded through clenched teeth.

Aurora winced involuntarily as she pushed her body forward, feeling the pain in her arm throb as soon as he placed weight onto her hand and blood trickle from her nose. “Vaffanculo!” she yelled, placing her fingertips to her chin and thrusting them toward him. 

Luca leaned down and dragged her to her feet, fingers digging into her flesh as he swore, "You make any more trouble for me and I swear to God you'll die here, Aurora. No one will know the difference if I tell them the Shelbys did it," he hissed in her ear as a small woman with dark hair appeared before them. 

“Can I help you with something?” she asked, looking the couple up and down, hands on her hips with more authority than someone her size ought to have. 

Luca released his wife immediately, straightening her clothes as he painted on a charming smile. “She fell on the cobblestones,” he explained smoothly. “I’m here to see Alfie Solomons. Is he in?” he inquired as he stepped forward, seeming to forget his wife in distress.

“Depends on whose asking,” the woman replied, glancing at Aurora with concern. 

Luca removed his hat as he introduced himself. “I’m Luca Changretta,” he said, extending a hand.

Thoroughly unimpressed by his charisma, the tiny woman tilted her head at him. “And who is she?” 

Luca coughed to cover his embarrassment. “This is my wife, Aurora. She’ll be staying outside,” he said with a pointed look at his wife, who stood, cradling her arm.

“If you want to see my husband, I insist this woman come in as well. She requires medical attention,” Rose said sternly. 

“If you insist,” Luca said, pursing his lips. 

“I insist,” the woman said with a definitive nod. “I’m Rose Solomons, Alfie’s wife. Come in,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“Darling,” Luca said with a sneer, extending his arm toward Aurora.

Aurora pushed past him and followed Rose inside. Luca followed two steps behind, removing a match from his pocket and chewing it ferociously. He didn’t like being humiliated by the Solomons woman and made a mental note to make Alfie pay dearly for it.

As Luca was shown to Alfie’s office, Rose took Aurora to a separate part of the distillery. Her interest was peaked now that she’d witnessed something between husband and wife that felt unsavory. The Solomons’ liked to make it their business to know everything about their associates and this felt like something worth noting.

———————

Rose expected someone quite different from the woman she was meeting today. She’d heard Aurora Changretta was a tigress, someone who never gave an inch to her enemies. However, the woman who stood before her bloodied and broken was not in a position to argue. She might listen to the plea on Rose’s lips so she began in earnest.

As Rose handed over a flannel dipped in cool water, she admitted what she wanted. “I’ll be blunt, Mrs. Changretta. My Alfie has cancer. He’s riddled with it. The doctors say it’s probably from the gas during the war,” she explained with furrowed brow as though she didn’t understand or believe the words that came from her lips. However, Aurora knew them to be true. They were the admission of someone who loved deeply and had not yet come to terms with an imminent loss. 

“I’m sorry,” Aurora responded. “But I don’t see how I can help,” she admitted.

Rose cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, rising to her full height. “You can get that man out there to go home. Leave us in peace for the days we have left,” she asserted.

Aurora bit her lip to keep a bitter laugh from escaping. Instead she just shook her head. Taking a deep breath she turned to Rose and spoke slowly to make the other woman realize her predicament. “You think I tell him the ways of the world? No, he doesn’t answer to me,” she admitted, dabbing at her wounds. “He has very little use for me these days,” Aurora admitted in a soft whisper.

"I thought your family ran New York?" Rose asked slightly confused.

"And now it's my husband so you see we're bound," Aurora replied with a look of resolve.

Rose took in the sight before her, bruises covered by layers of make up, bones badly healed over time. The limp when she walked inside and the arm she cradled gingerly now. This was a woman who knew suffering and yet there was tenacity in her hazel eyes that couldn't be denied. It was this strength Rose appealed to now.

“You’d die by his hand? Because that’s where you’re headed, love,” Rose warned, recalling her own difficult past. “Won’t you try?”

Aurora paused for a moment, a trickle of bloody water running down her elbow as she washed. This went against everything Aurora had ever been taught. You never spoke against your family, no matter what happened. Her parents ingrained that in her at an early age. However, her parents’ marriage had been one based on love and respect. No matter how many times they reconciled, she and Luca did not carry the same affection.

As she sat in the damp distillery, listening to the distant sound of machinery, she thought of her future with Luca and his intention to crush her beneath him became abundantly clear. He didn’t care for her as he once did. When the money and the resources were gone, he would dispose of her.

Finally Aurora mumbled one word into the darkness of the small room, keeping her voice low in case Luca was nearby. “How?”

Rose inhaled a sharp breath, chin rising suddenly with renewed hope to meet Aurora’s wide eyes, full of questions and doubt. She knew how hard it would be to ask this of kind of trust from a stranger, but if she could convince her to take the first step, the rest would fall into place.

“We get you to Tommy Shelby,” Rose said confidently.

Aurora shook her head violently. “No, please. He’ll kill me.”

“He won’t. He’s not Luca,” Rose promised, rushing the rest of her speech for fear Aurora might bolt in fear. “This vendetta was started by the Changrettas and your husband is using your family to fund his war. Now he’s asking my husband to help. It won’t stop unless we say so. We can stop him, Aurora. Will you join me?” Rose asked, reaching for Aurora’s bloodied hand.

Aurora’s lip trembled thinking of crossing Luca, but she had had enough. If there was one thing her father taught her it was to fight for her own interests and she knew she still had fight within her. 

“Yes, I’ll help you,” Aurora agreed on a shaky breath, reaching for Rose.

“We’ll protect you, I promise,” Rose said, intertwining her fingers with Aurora’s stained fingertips. The blood that tainted her would soon be washed clean.

————————————

It had taken another week and several clandestine phone calls before Aurora could steal away to meet Rose. She’d convinced Luca that she needed medicine for her cuts and he allowed her to leave the hotel though she knew she didn’t have long. Rose knew a man who could help them meet in neutral territory, but it would be brief as Luca sent someone to watch over Aurora whenever she left. With that in mind, Aurora stole away one afternoon wondering if this was all a mistake.

The bell above the door of the chemist rang out and Aurora took a deep breath, scanning the small shop for Rose. The tiny woman stood in the corner, observing a box as though she were another patron and when she spied Aurora she beckoned to her. Aurora felt her heart thundering in her chest as she followed Rose through a narrow doorway, descending a dark staircase. However, it was far too late to reconsider and she marched ahead with as much courage as she could muster.

Aurora soon found herself face to face with Tommy Shelby who paced the length of a small, dimly lit room. She knew him instantly from photographs and descriptions of his deep blue eyes like two pools that could drown you if you stared too long. The moment she entered, she was mesmerized by him.

“You killed my wife,” Tommy said, a stillness coming over his features when he caught sight of his enemy. Aurora sucked in a breath, recognizing the inherent danger facing her. Violent men all had the same deceiving comportment, a snake coiled and ready to strike. 

“Tommy, please....” Rose interjected in a pleading tone, willing the meeting to continue. Rose glanced at Aurora and noticed a visible change in her demeanor, a hardening of her exterior as she refused to show any kind of weakness.

“Luca killed your wife. I only tried to kill you,” Aurora said defiantly, head held high.

A moment of silence passed as Tommy considered Aurora. Then she spoke again, "You misunderstand, Mr. Shelby. I'm trying to end this. It was never my fight," she said softly, feeling the weight of every life lost in service to her and the family.

“If this wasn’t your fight, why the fuck are you supplying your husband enough money and soldiers to overthrow the British empire, love?” Tommy countered.

“Loyalty. I hear that you’re like me when it comes to your family, Mr. Shelby. You would do anything to protect them. I didn’t agree with my husband, but I promised to protect him….”

“Do you honestly think he’d do the same for you?,” Tommy asked, blue eyes icing over to match the chill in his voice. He knew he was being cruel, but he had to test her in this moment to see if she would crumble.

“I have no illusions about our marriage,” Aurora confided on a low breath. She forced herself to make eye contact as she said, “That's why I'm here. Rose told me you might be willing to strike a bargain.”

Tommy scoffed, turning away from Aurora and she worried what she’d been told about his mercy was false. 

“Fucking hell, Tommy. She’s here and she’s willing to talk. Isn’t that enough?” Rose asked.

Tommy turned with a look of warning, “Alright, give him up.”

“What?” Aurora asked.

“Give up your husband and we’ll call it even,” Tommy demanded.

Aurora swallowed harshly, considering the choices at her disposal. Stay and see more bloodshed or end it with one final betrayal. It took only a fraction of a second to see the choice she had to make. 

“An ambush,” Aurora agreed quietly, fixing her gaze on Tommy. “But we have to make Luca think you aren’t expecting him. That he can take the shot.”

A smug look came over Tommy's handsome face. "You are as ruthless as they say, aren't you?" he commented. Then just as suddenly the amusement in his features disappeared and he turned stone faced once more. “How do I know I can trust you?” Tommy asked.

Aurora began to laugh bitterly.

“That’s fucking funny to you?” Tommy asked.

Aurora shook her head as a tear fell from her cheek, the enormity of her decision causing her to fall into a momentary fit of insanity. “He married me and he saw cashmere, cologne, red racing cars…All I wanted was love. It wasn't supposed to be like this,” she sniffed as she looked away from him, trying to catch her breath and regain composure. She pushed the pain away and felt her anger rise up in its place, “I just want out, you understand? I want out from under him," she confided, her whole body beginning to shake. 

Rose approached her and covered her with her shawl. “It’s alright, Aurora. You’re going to be alright,” she promised, looking to Tommy.

“Artillery Square, two days time,” he said with a satisfactory nod. 

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

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@christinasyellowflowers

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@everythingelseisextra

@solomons-finest-rum

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@margaret-morriss-secrethideout

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@dandelionprints

@look-at-the-soul

@runnning-outof-time

@cillmequick

@moral-terpitude

@dreamlandcreations

@watercolorskyy

@kmhappybunny240

@babaohhhriley

@padfootdaredmetoo

@rangerelik

@the-fangirl-diaries

@mrs-bellingham

@dearshelby

@bdudette

@brummiereader

@call-sign-shark

@peakyltd

@justlulu

[rosanna-writer]

we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (20/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~5k

ch. 1 - 10 | ch. 11 - she underestimated just who she was stealing from | ch. 12 - no amount of freedom gets you clean | ch. 13 - stay stay stay | ch. 14 - call it what you want to | ch. 15 - even when you're sleeping, keep your eyes open | ch. 16 - you drew stars around my scars | ch. 17 - do you remember all the city lights on the water? | ch. 18 - and it smells like me | ch. 19 - your mom's ring in your pocket | ch. 20 - she is here to destroy you

Content warning for canon-typical violence and animal death. Some text in this chapter is taken directly from A Court of Mist and Fury.

Read on AO3 or you can find the twentieth chapter below the readmore.

Mud didn't seep through Illyrian leathers. A small mercy, perhaps, but after sitting in it for a few hours, the cold was infinitely more tolerable when I stayed dry. I couldn't move, not without scaring away the ducks that were finally beginning to forget that I was sitting on the edge of the pond.

And I'd been dispatched to find dinner.

We'd fanned out to cover more ground—someone in Windhaven must have tipped the rogue war-bands off, and they'd retreated deeper into the forest. Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel took turns flying circles overhead, looking for signs of movement.

We'd likely be out here several days, too long to carry enough food to last the whole time. Though I knew it was to put some distance between me and an initial confrontation with hotheaded warriors with a hatred for humans, I didn't mind. The work needed to get done anyway.

I still hated hunting, but being out in the woods alone cleared my head. There was a quiet and stillness that was impossible to find in a city, even one as lovely as Velaris. I let my mind wander, and I considered how to best capture the dappled sunlight on the water if I ever painted this view. Filling a full canvas still felt like a long way off, but…perhaps a landscape would be the way to ease back into it. Maybe I'd paint a mountain before I tackled everything that had happened under one.

But I could only think of painting for so long, and the ducks were still flitting about too nervously for my liking. I sat a bit longer, and my mind drifted to other things.

Rhys never told me if he was proposing or not. I hadn't asked again. In truth, I had no idea what I was supposed to do after recovering the ring—return it to him? I couldn't wear it openly, at least not without inviting questions we weren't ready to answer. But I hadn't seen a faerie wear a wedding band or use a surname or even known someone else with a mate.

And if faerie funerals were so different from mortal ones, then I supposed weddings would be, too. Especially when a High Lord was involved. Gods, the only person I'd talked to about the difference between marriage and mating had been Tamlin—there was no reason to believe anything he'd told me was accurate.

I was out of my depth. But the ducks had finally settled, so I did the one thing I was good for and let an arrow fly. It speared a bird through the neck, killing it instantly.

The rest of the flock alighted—I had to move quickly. Half on instinct, I aimed, accounting for their speed and direction as I shot down three more, one right after the other. Every arrow found its mark, and the unlucky ducks dropped to the ground as the rest soared away.

My hips and knees barked in protest as I stood; crouching in the mud for so long had left me stiff. At least nothing had gone numb this time.

I felt better, though, even with the tedious task of retrieving, cleaning, and cooking the game ahead of me. In the Spring Court, I'd gotten comfortable and let my guard down far too easily. I'd never felt safer or more taken care of in my life than I had in these last two weeks with Rhys in Velaris, but…I'd worried, on some level, that I'd gotten soft or lost my skills because of it. Bagging those ducks proved I hadn't.

Being loved didn't make me any less a wolf.

I gathered the birds and made my way to the place we'd agreed to meet up at sunset. Without wax or even a large pot of water, I'd either have to breast them out—which would waste some of the meat—or pluck the feathers one by one to roast them whole. And we needed to get a fire started.

I was still plucking the first bird when Azriel arrived. There was a smear of blood on his leathers, and that told me enough—whatever had happened resulted in no survivors. Wordlessly, he grabbed a carcass, sat down next to me, and began ripping the feathers off, too.

No one had ever done that for me. Not my sisters or my father, not even when I'd asked for help.

Cassian landed not long after that, grim-faced and slightly bloodied. He nodded a greeting, then crouched and began coaxing a fire to life. "We're lucky to have a professional around," he said, indicating the carcasses with a jerk of his head.

"Did I catch enough?" I said.

"More than enough to ensure we don't have to listen to Cassian's stomach growl all night," Azriel said.

Knowing that none of us would go hungry set me at ease. The duck in my hand felt like even more of a tangible contribution, proof that it hadn't been a mistake to bring me to Illyria. I smiled to myself and kept ripping out feathers.

I hadn't heard him winnow in, but I felt the familiar darkness of Rhys's power reaching for me again. I turned to see him walking towards us through the trees. As he got closer, my eyes drifted to a scratch on his cheek. Then all my attention locked onto it.

Hardly a scrape—whoever had done it hadn't even broken the skin, and his magic was already halfway done healing it. My blood boiled anyway. Someone had gotten close enough to get a talon or a weapon on him.

"Who," I said, though the word was more growl than speech.

"They're dead," Rhys said.

I was on my feet without even realizing it, closing the distance between us in long strides. "Good. Did you—"

"Yes. All by my hand."

The scratch had faded completely, but I reached for the place it had been. Rhys caught my wrist and tugged me to him. The momentum made my greeting more collision than kiss. I nearly knocked us both over, but Rhys was solid and steady as his other arm twined around my waist to crush me against him.

We'd only been apart a few hours, but someone had almost drawn blood from my mate; an utterly irrational wave of guilt that I hadn't been there to stop it and relief that he was fine had swept away my good sense. I was already pawing at him with my free hand.

The pointed clearing of a throat cut through the mating-bond-induced madness. Without looking up from the bird he was still plucking, Azriel said, "I'd like to remind everyone that we agreed no sharing bedrolls on this mission."

I didn't have it in me to feel embarrassed. Perhaps I couldn't feel ashamed of anything when Rhys had an arm around me. I interlaced our fingers and pulled him back towards the fire.

We sat down, and Cassian dug a rag out of his pack and tossed it in our direction. I reached up to catch it, but it snagged on one of Rhys's talons.

Cassian grinned. "That's for Feyre. I can tell she's dying to clean you off."

Rhys narrowed his eyes, flicking a finger towards the rag, and it dissolved into mist. "I'm not an invalid," he grumbled. On my other side, Azriel chuckled.

Cassian took over the rest of the cooking after that, and one knowing look we shared across the fire was enough to tell me he'd made do with unseasoned game and campfires plenty of times before. Roasted whole, the duck wasn't half-bad.

Before long, night fell, and we were divvying up shifts to keep watch. I took the first, then had no trouble falling asleep—not in the open air, underneath the stars. The next day was more of the same as we tracked the rogue war-bands deeper into the forest.

On the third day of hunting, I was crouched up a tree when a glint of something bright green tore my attention away from the forest floor. I'd assumed the shape circling above had been a bird, perhaps a hawk or a vulture, and hadn't thought much about it.

But birds didn't sparkle. That was an emerald-colored siphon.

The path the Illyrian was taking brought him closer, but I didn't think he'd spotted me. I froze. He flew closer, almost in range of my bow.

I didn't dare even breathe too loudly. Keen faerie senses were difficult to hide from, and even if I stayed hidden, his looping flight pattern would send him back in the opposite direction and I'd miss an opportunity.

He came closer. And closer. There was no time to run.

I grabbed an ash arrow and took the shot.

The arrow ripped a hole in one of his wings, and the Illyrian plummeted to the ground like a stone in water. I scrambled down from my perch and barreled through the trees. As I ran, I pulled another ash arrow from my quiver—a fall from that height could have been deadly, but if not, an injured Illyrian warrior could still find a way to bury a dagger in my belly.

I heard him moaning in pain before I stepped into the clearing where he'd fallen. He'd landed on his back, torso twisted and his legs bent at unnatural angles. A shattered pelvis at the least, maybe even a snapped spine. Healing magic was the only thing keeping him alive. The siphon on his chest flickered weakly, like a heart struggling to beat.

At the sound of my footsteps, his head turned. His eyes burned with hate as he reached for a knife strapped to his belt. I nocked the ash arrow, aiming directly for his face as I took a step closer. His hand stilled.

"Tell me where the others are hiding," I said. "Don't bother lying. The High Lord is on his way."

"I won't take orders from Rhysand's human whore," he spat.

"The best outcome you can hope for is a mercy kill before he arrives. Give up their locations, and I'll consider it."

For a long moment, he said nothing. My arm began to ache from keeping the bowstring pulled back, and I prayed my fingers wouldn't start shaking. I said nothing either, just tried to emulate Azriel's deadly, stone-faced resolve.

The Illyrian's hand twitched, but his fingers never closed around the hilt of the knife. Instead, through clenched teeth, he recited the litany of names and locations I was after. I believed him—I doubted he was in a state to lie convincingly.

As I listened, I gave one insistent tug on the bond and dropped my shields so Rhys could hear it all, too. The beast that had once rested in my mind became a furious thing growling and snapping its jaws.

The clearing plunged into darkness. I couldn't see where Rhys was, but I felt his power sliding along my skin all the same.

"Is that all?" I said, my voice so cold I hardly recognized it as my own.

The Illyrian whimpered something that might have been "yes." I loosed the arrow; even under the cover of Rhys's darkness, my aim stayed true. The point landed in the Illyrian's eye, buried deep enough in his skull to render him still and silent forever.

Just like Andras.

Even with the threat gone, the darkness didn't clear. I glanced up, and my vision had adjusted enough to make out Rhys's silhouette, his wings flared and hands shaking.

"You should have called me the moment you spotted him," Rhys said, voice ragged.

"I handled it," I said simply.

Rhys growled. At me. And the fact that I was too human to properly bare my teeth and return the favor—rage bubbled under my skin. If he'd been closer, I would have shoved him.

"Then why bring me here?" I hissed. "Just to humor me?"

I felt like such a fool for not having realized it sooner. Killing a few ducks was hardly a real contribution—they might as well have patted me on the head and told the High Lord's little human mate she'd done such a good job. Shame made my cheeks go hot.

"Don't be stupid, Feyre," Rhys snapped.

The darkness rippled and churned around us, like a storm at sea. The tendrils seemed to lap at me, pressing close then retreating, even as they skittered down my spine. Magic thrummed in the air.

I crossed my arms. "I'm not."

"You could have gotten yourself killed. Even Cassian won't run into a fight without backup if it's available. There were three of us who could have gone with you, but for reasons I can't even begin to fathom, you waited until the very last second."

I'd never seen Rhys this…undone. Not even when I'd first gone Under the Mountain. His breathing was ragged, and there was a note of panic in his voice I'd never heard before.

"I…I didn't think to ask. At least not at first. I called for you as soon as I remembered." As ridiculous as it sounded when I said it aloud, it was true. But the habit of doing everything on my own was a difficult one to break.

Rhys sighed, his shoulders slumping as the fight went out of him. The darkness seemed to lift, but before I could be sure, he'd winnowed closer and pulled me against his chest. I couldn't see much other than his wings cocooning me.

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "I love your fearlessness just as much as every other part of you, but please remember that you're not alone anymore. I can't lose you, Feyre."

"I love you too," I said, voice thick. I set my bow down and hugged him back.

Both ends of the bond seemed to settle as we held each other. I savored it—the heat of him against me, the sun shining through his wings, the soft scrape of the scales of his leathers against my cheek.

"You are your own person, and I will not dictate your choices. Ever." Rhys picked a twig out of my hair; it must have gotten lodged in my braid when I'd climbed down from the tree. "If you'd told me what you were doing, I would only have asked you to allow me to come with for my own peace of mind."

I'd never asked why he'd gone alone to that cursed party fifty years ago. Maybe he'd insisted on it; maybe he'd also forgotten to ask for backup, then paid a terrible price. It seemed better not to bring it up.

"You aren't alone either," was all I said.

There was a pulse of something down the bond that I couldn't quite identify, then he stepped back, tucking his wings in tight. His expression was unreadable—a wall had gone back up.

"I've passed all the information on to Azriel, and his shadows are scouting out the locations we were given. Will you be able to keep going? It's alright if you're rattled—you did just kill someone."

There was nothing but a howling void where my guilt should have been. Perhaps I'd lost that piece of myself when I'd killed Andras. If anything, I just felt…numb. "He deserved it."

"I don't disagree."

Rhys let me into his mind as he conferred with the others. I relaxed when Azriel's shadows confirmed that the information I'd gathered was correct—at the very least, I'd saved us time trekking through the woods. I wasn't useless, hadn't been brought here for nothing after all.

Once the first war-band had been hauled back to Windhaven, Rhys wanted me to stay there. I didn't mind. Another set of eyes and ears on the camp was prudent, and I was still technically his emissary.

It was barely even noon when we returned. On Rhys's orders, Devlon's men had set up a line of wooden poles at the center of the camp, the area used for public gatherings. A small crowd had already begun to form. Among them, I spotted Devlon and the warriors who'd been flanking him earlier.

Cassian had wanted those poles burned. And after this, they would be. For the last fifty years, females had been tied to them when their wings had been clipped. The sight of them alone turned my stomach.

Rhys loosened his grip on his power, and from my place next to him, I could feel the magic radiating off him like heat. A gust of night-kissed wind had every member of the rebel war-band silent and tied to the posts.

"There is no tolerance for treason in the Night Court," Rhys said. His voice cut like a knife through the murmuring of the crowd. Pure command—the voice of the High Lord of the Night Court. "And to bow before an invading general who would butcher and enslave humans is particularly heinous. It spits on the graves of the soldiers who died for the mortals' freedom during the War. I'll leave your fate up to the human in our midst, Feyre Cursebreaker."

Every single set of eyes slid to me. The attention had my heart hammering in my chest, but I forced myself to mimic the small, cold smile I'd seen on Amren's face from time to time. When I'd yanked the ash arrow out of the dead warrior's eye, I hadn't bothered to clean it off, just returned it to my quiver.

The gore peeking over my shoulder was message enough.

"I'll make a final decision when the rest are captured. Flaying their skin from their bones seems merciful, but perhaps there's some creature in the Middle that might enjoy hunting them for sport," I said, making myself sound bored and aloof.

The spark of Rhys's approval down the bond bolstered my confidence for what I'd planned to do next. I stepped closer to one of the bound Illyrians and circled my hand around the thin, delicate bone at the edge of his wing, then snapped it in two.

I'd know that cracking sound anywhere. The air reeked of Wyrm shit again, mud clung to my skin, and the slithering behind me was getting closer and closer.

I was running, and—

It's over, Feyre. We got out.

Rhys's voice in my head jolted me out of the memory. I gripped one of his talons and pulled myself back to the present.

I'd survived. And no matter how much of a monster it made me, I'd ensure that no one, not even the most powerful faerie, would hurt me or anyone I loved. Not again.

Before Rhys could fuss, I was breaking the bones in the next Illyrian's wings. I gritted my teeth and ignored their cries of pain until I'd rendered every single one of them incapable of flight.

We locked eyes when it was done, but Rhys's beautiful face was an impenetrable mask I still hadn't learned to see past. "I'll be waiting here for you to bring me the rest," I said. No title or honorific—I'd let them all wonder why he hadn't misted me for speaking to him like that.

Rhys nodded once. He said nothing, but there was a question in the hesitant brush against my shields.

I'm fine. Really. Just bring me the rest so we can finish this quickly.

For a moment, the bond thrummed with wicked delight. Try not to burn down Windhaven while I'm gone.

He took to the sky. Without carrying a passenger, the movement was all perfect, lethal grace, and sometimes I wondered how I could possibly forget that Rhys was anything but an absurdly beautiful predator. I watched until he was out of sight, marveling that he was mine.

The crowd dispersed, and for a moment, I just stood there, unsure what to do with myself. Perhaps I'd spend the rest of the day being ignored by Illyrians. I wouldn't blame them for that—as faeries went about their business, I caught a few wary glances in my direction.

But I supposed I should probably clean off the bloodied arrows in my quiver. And my hands were badly in need of washing.

I made my way to the water pump at the center of the camp. An Illyrian female—around my age, if I had to guess, though it was impossible to be sure with immortals—had just started using using it. Large, brutal scars ran down both of her wings.

"I'll be a while. You can go first," she said, sliding her empty bucket out of the way with her foot. Now that I was closer, I spotted a bruise darkening her cheek, too.

"There's no need. I wouldn't want to waste your time if there are chores to be done," I said.

"You'd be doing me a favor—I'll take any excuse to be out of the house for a little while longer."

I understood—there had been countless days I'd dragged my feet because I hadn't wanted to face Nesta's barbed insults, my father's sad eyes, or Elain's clueless whining. And none of them had even raised a hand to me.

I gave the female a nod, pulled the bloody arrow from my quiver, and rinsed it off under the stream. Silence fell. The female said nothing else, and perhaps it would have been best to let the quiet stay unbroken. The chances were high a trip to gather water was a rare respite for her.

But I could feel her assessing gaze, and I struggled not to squirm under it. "Illyria is very beautiful," I blurted out awkwardly.

"It's a shithole."

"My shithole across the Wall didn't have mountains. It's prettier here, at least," I shook the excess water off the newly-clean arrow and slid it back into the quiver.

She snorted, lips tugging upward at the corners. "I'm Emerie."

"Feyre."

"I know. You're the Cursebreaker." Not awed, just matter-of-fact, which was a bit of a relief.

I scrubbed away the last of the dirt, dried off as best I could, then offered a hand to shake. Emerie took it, and I wasn't surprised that her grip was like iron, not with that straight-backed posture and sharp stare of hers.

I stayed while Emerie filled up her bucket, just talking a bit about Windhaven. She didn't offer up much about herself, and I didn't pry. But by the time she returned home, I'd learned what spices were in the Illyrian dish Cassian had brought to the townhouse the day I'd first trained with Rhys. Emerie had barked a laugh when I told her not to bother with advice on preparing it because I was an utterly hopeless cook.

Maybe I'd made a friend. But I'd also thought Lucien was a friend and he'd turned out to be assisting my kidnapper—I wasn't sure I trusted my judgement on that front anymore.

By the end of the day, Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel, had rounded up the rest of the rogue war-bands, and I'd broken the wings of the survivors. And as much as I wanted to go straight to the Weaver's cottage, I knew it was foolish to go so close to dark. Cassian planned to stay in Illyria, and Devlon was loyal enough not to release the prisoners under his nose in the dead of night or allow anyone else to manage it.

Rhys and I returned to the townhouse in need of a bath, so we took one together. We were both utterly exhausted—his eyes roved over me as I shucked off my leathers, but for once, he was silent.

I'd still snatched the long-handled sponge out of his hands and washed his wings for him. Even drained of energy, I wasn't about to forgo an opportunity to get my hands all over them. I took my time, appreciating the way the powerful muscles in his back rippled with every brush of my fingertips.

And once we were clean, he laid me out on his bed and licked until he'd wrung so much pleasure from me that I drifted into an easy sleep in his arms.

It had been exactly what we both needed. I could guess how he was feeling about a trip to Illyria with still-healing wings, and my mind was unable to keep replaying the sound of bones cracking when Rhys's tongue was sliding inside me.

My dreams were still horrifying—a bone-spear lancing through Rhys's eye, my hands covered in his blood—but I slept through the night and kept my dinner down. I woke alone in Rhys's bed that morning, which meant he'd probably slipped out once I'd drifted off. I suspected he'd had nightmares of his own, too.

I was pulling the belt of knives from my dresser when he winnowed behind me. "Allow me," he purred, right into my ear.

"I can do it myself," I said. After I'd mentioned chucking that knife at Tamlin, Azriel had showed me how to strap it on as part of my training to go Under the Mountain.

"I'm aware. That doesn't mean you have to."

He had a point, so I let him take it from me. I turned, and for a moment, we were chest-to-chest. He inhaled, drinking in my scent, and I lifted a hand to touch him.

But he dropped to his knees before I could. Flashing me a roguish grin, he spread open the web of leather and steel. My toes curled in my boots.

"Remind me of what you've been briefed on," he said as I stepped through the loops.

I did my best to ignore the steady brush of his hands as he set about adjusting and buckling and tightening things. "Knives only—no sword or bow or arrows. Don't touch anything that doesn't belong to me. Take my time to think about loopholes before agreeing on a bargain. Call for help if I need it. And stay alive before everything else," I recited.

"Precisely." He braced those strong, capable hands on my thighs and looked up at me. "You are more valuable than any treasure the Weaver could ever posses. If you need to leave the ring behind to come home to me, then that's what you do."

"I won't let it come to that."

Rhys got to his feet and kissed my cheek. "I believe you."

He winnowed us into a wood that was older, more aware, than any place I’d been.

The gnarled beech trees were tightly woven together, splattered and draped so thoroughly with moss and lichen that it was nearly impossible to see the bark beneath. The trees groaned—though there was no breeze to shift them. No, the air here was tight and stale.

So this was the Middle.

I followed Rhys through the trees, and the only sound was our footsteps. No birdsong or the snapping of twigs, nothing I was used to hearing in a forest. Just unnatural, ancient stillness.

We stopped before a clearing. A small, whitewashed cottage with a thatched roof and half-crumbling chimney sat in the center. Ordinary—almost mortal. There was even a well, its bucket perched on the stone lip, and a wood pile beneath one of the round windows of the cottage. No sound or light within—not even smoke puffed from the chimney.

I could hear faint, pretty humming coming from the cottage. Soothing, almost mesmerizing—it would have set me at ease if I didn't already know it was coming from the monster within. The sort of thing that might lure quarry into a snare.

But I was not prey. No—I was a huntress. A wolf. It took much more than that to fool me.

I started down the mossy earth path that paved the way to the door and didn't look back once. When I reached the threshold, I could hear her voice through the door. The Weaver's voice was sweet, clear, and beautiful.

“There were two sisters, they went playing, To see their father’s ships come sailing… And when they came unto the sea-brim The elder did push the younger in.”

I'd heard the song before, from humans. It was a favorite of the traveling musicians who sometimes passed through our village. And perhaps…she knew that, and the familiarity was intended to lull me, too.

I stayed perfectly still on the threshold for a long moment, the same freeze-watch-listen pattern I fell into as I hunted in the woods. Along with her voice, I could only hear the clatter of some device. So she was alone, then.

“Sometimes she sank, and sometimes she swam, Til her corpse came to the miller’s dam.”

I raised a hand to knock, but the door swung open on silent hinges, as if she'd rolled out a welcome mat just for me. I didn't move, just peered inside. My chest went tight, and I forced myself to keep my breathing even.

A large main room, with a small, shut door in the back. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, crammed with bric-a-brac: books, shells, dolls, herbs, pottery, shoes, crystals, more books, jewels…From the ceiling and wood rafters hung all manner of chains, dead birds, dresses, ribbons, gnarled bits of wood, strands of pearls…

A junk shop—of some immortal hoarder.

I waited to feel power calling out to me, but…nothing happened. Perhaps, as part of the bargain, I'd need to ask her to hand the ring to me directly. If she even remembered where it was.

The Weaver of the Wood herself sat with her back to me. In the gloom of the cottage, I could just make out the ancient, cracked spinning wheel I'd heard along with her singing. In the cottage, it was far too dim to make out the thin white thread she was spinning. Was she blind, like the Wyrm….or could she see in the dark?

My eyes drifted to the soft fiber she was feeding into the wheel. It looked like wool, but some deep-seated instinct in the back of my brain told me it was not. The question wasn't what she was spinning, but who.

The shelf above her head was filled with cones upon cones of thread, and large bolts of woven fabric filled up the space next to her. Mother above, she must have made it from entire cities, whole armies or even nations. A handful of rebel Illyrians suddenly seemed like a pitiful offering.

But I still, I had to try. And if there really were some power for me to detect, perhaps I needed to be a bit closer. Out here, nothing was pulling me towards one object in particular.

As silently as I could, I took a step into the cottage. I froze, waited, breathed. Nothing. I took another, and then the door slammed shut.

The Weaver turned her face toward me.

Above her young, supple body, beneath her black, beautiful hair, her skin was gray—wrinkled and sagging and dry. And where eyes should have gleamed instead lay rotting black pits. Her lips had withered to nothing but deep, dark lines around a hole full of jagged stumps of teeth—like she had gnawed on too many bones.

Her nose—perhaps once pert and pretty, now half-caved in—flared as she sniffed in my direction. "Well met, High Lady."

[starswornoaths]

2. Horizon

Myrina never fully learned how to make connections with the people closest to her. Never quite learned how to open up the door to her heart all the way without them having to let themselves in.

It is well that those that love her knock anyway. Would that she could let them know her. When her daughter stumbles upon a piece of Myrina's past, she will have to settle for a half truth as an end result.

word count: 3,628

-

Myrina had lived in the Shroud long enough to know that thunderstorms posed a particular threat here—with the tree canopy so dense as to blot out the sun in most places, even the scent of rain on the wind was enough for most villages to begin to prepare for the worst case scenario. 

Local volunteer firefighters and town watchtowers would remain on high alert, ready with countermeasures should lightning strike the treeline. As ever, she would be among them, covering the older trees and thatching rooves even as the storm so often caught them in the middle of their preparations.

On one such afternoon, a particularly brutal storm swept through their little Elmvale. The trees offered little and less protection from the rain pratically pelting the firefighters in horizontal sheets as they wrestled with the howling wind. Visibility was shot: even in the shade of the canopy, the tumultuous clouds overhead made it almost dark as night.

But the day was relatively kind, for all their efforts: but a single lightning bolt struck through the canopy and burned a hole large enough to fit a chocobo through before they had managed to smother the flames but beyond that, the village suffered no lasting damage.

That hole in the canopy line became something of a fascination for Myrina’s children even into the next day, after the smoke had thinned and the skies had begun to clear.

“Bet Rhalgr sent it,” her son, Uthengentle chirped as he hopped from one puddle to the next.

They were making a game of it; from what Myrina could parse, they were avoiding anywhere that wasn’t a puddle.

“The lightning?” asked her daughter, Serella, as she jumped after him.

“Yeah! That’s like his whole thing!” Uthengentle said with a pump of his fist in the air on his next leap. “He sends stuff like that down all the time! That’s what my Pops used to say! I bet it was a message!”

At that, Serella stood still in the next puddle she landed on and turned her head toward the newly formed gap in the treeline. Gray, overcast sky peered in on the village with its cosmic indifference from through the lingering smoke trails.

“Whoa,” she whispered, eyes wide in awe.

Even later that evening, with supper sorted and everyone settled in, Myrina still caught her daughter peering out of the window in the upstairs hallway, staring out toward the burned away boughs. It took little and less to shoo her gently to bed. Thus, Myrina slept soundly, certain that her daughter’s curiosity would be sated ere long.

She didn’t see much of Serella the next morning after breakfast, though the overcast day meant the family settled inside, content in their own spaces with only the sounds of fiddling hands to fill the gentle quiet. 

Eventually, though, she heard the telltale march of little feet down the steps sometime in the late afternoon. She couldn’t help but smile at the sound: she knew it was her daughter in the way she jumped with both feet off the last step. It gave her away every time.

But there was a rustle of paper with each step, something Myrina hadn’t anticipated. Serella must have busy making something up in her room.

Sure enough, her daughter’s beautiful head of hair bounced in just above the kitchen table with her expression the very picture of seriousness and a loose sheet of paper fluttering in her grip.

“Have you seen Da?” she asked.

Myrina had in fact seen Hanvesh. He was in the den, likely reading or whittling if the lack of plucking strings was any indicator. But a small part of her felt hurt that she wasn’t asked regarding whatever little mystery their daughter got into this time.

Setting down her screwdriver and the clock she had been repairing, she said, “He might be in the den. Is there something I can help with?”

Alright, maybe a little more than a little hurt.

Her daughter demured at that, staring down at her own feet and shuffling her weight between them. 

“Pro’bly not.” she mumbled at her own socks.

A far larger part of Myrina hurt at that. She fought a wince.

“I might be, you never know!” she tried again with a shaky smile, even as the words felt awkward and too loud.

But she hadn’t known how to connect with her daughter just yet; poor Uthengentle had been easy to bond with because something horrid and unjust had happened to him, too. Serella had no such loss to grapple with, sweet and earnest and untouched by the world as she was. Myrina felt shame that that was what it took for her to connect with either of her children. She felt shame that it was all she had to connect with anyone.

But her daughter’s eyes had never clouded over in haunted memories. In fighting so hard to shelter her daughter, she had made herself a stranger. She knew not how to engage with the unmarred and the innocent, even when they were her blood.

“...Nah, it’s okay. Got to do with stars and stuff, so, uhh...I’ll go check with him. Thanks, Ma!” Serella chirped, ignorant of her mother’s struggle as she skipped out of the kitchen in search of her father.

But it was a small house, just big enough for their little family. It was impossible not to hear them in the next room as she resumed her fiddling.

“I found a new constellation!” Serella told her father.

“A new constellation? You’re certain?” she heard her husband say with the right amount of awe in his voice for a child with a new discovery.

Because he knew how to connect with their children. With anyone. With everyone. Because that was the sort of person he was. He knew all about all kinds of things because he knew just how to ask. 

Myrina didn’t know how to do that. She knew all the same things of people by silent observation, but never learned how to say things softly.

“I checked all the books in the library and all the star charts you gave me, and I didn’t see anything like this!” Serella declared with the sound of paper being smacked onto a table. “I can see it at night through that hole in the trees! Uthen thinks Rhalgr wanted us to see it!”

Myrina could picture her daughter’s face perfectly: she always got this bright gleam in her mismatched eyes when she had a mystery to solve, with a big smile that showed all her little baby teeth in an expression that dared the gods themselves to tell her she couldn’t find the answer.

Serella was her father’s daughter, after all.

The screwdriver Myrina had in her hand was far too large for the next step in repairs. She busied herself with finding one of her smaller tools in her bag.

“That’s quite the effort—well, now.” Hanvesh mused with the sound of shuffling paper.

In her mind’s eye, Myrina was sat across from her husband in the den, watching the way his brow would quirk the way it always did when something caught his attention. His head would always angle toward the opposite side as the eyebrow that arched, without fail, and she could see the way it tilted in that moment he picked up the paper and examined it.

“I don’t think I’ve seen this star pattern ‘afore in all my life, Little Acorn!” he said, though Myrina had known him long enough to tell when he was hiding something. “Say, do you mind if I keep this to take a look for myself later?”

“‘Kay!” she chirped.

That had been the end of it, apparently. Serella ran off to play, and Hanvesh followed not long after, ambling out with his cane thumping in time with him.

A bad pain day, then. Myrina set the pot on the stove and began to brew his medicinal tea for when he came in.

Except she hadn’t even finished steeping it before she heard him head straight for the kitchen.

She turned just in time to see Hanvesh join her, still holding that paper in his free hand. His expression was a queer one; it hovered somewhere between serious and playful, in that strange liminal space he occupied when he intended to butter her up for something important.

As if he needed to.

“You’ll never guess what our daughter has discovered,” Hanvesh said conversationally. 

“A new constellation, by all accounts.” Myrina answered plainly.

At that, he snorted a laugh and said, “Aye, that’s what she believes. But would you believe me if I told you you’d recognize it better than I?”

As he asked this, he revealed the drawing on the paper: less a sketch and more a series of scribbled stars, one for each light she saw through the treeline.

Far too many to be a constellation; easily over a dozen dots, all arranged in a strange pyramid.

“Says she saw these after that storm the other day. Funny, the angle from the village points north, too far out to be the Shroud—”

Ah. Myrina might have known. Little wonder why she would need “buttering up,” then.

“Not a constellation, then.” she sighed and handed the paper back.

Hanvesh did not take it from her. “It’d be good to hear it from you, you know. What it really is.”

Who you really are, he did not add.

Of course it would be. If she knew how to do that. If she knew how to be a mother and a partner and a person—

“I don’t know, meri jaan,” she said around a heavy sigh.

She hadn’t even finished the exhale before he reached for her hands, gentle and sweet, as he leaned on his good leg to press close.

“Would it be so horrible if she knew her mother, mon cœur?” he asked, not unkindly and half into her cheek before he planted a kiss there.

If anyone would understand why Myrina might insist that yes, it would be so horrible, it would be her husband. That he would ask regardless meant he didn’t intend to let this go.

That it was important enough not to. That it mattered.

“I shan’t say a word,” he promised her, and when he squeezed her hands it became clear she had hidden her panic poorly. “Ultimately, it is your story to tell, mon cher.”

There was never a time he left her side without a kiss to her forehead, and this time was no exception. Cane in hand, he began to make his way back to the study.

Hovering near the window in the den on his way, he said aloud and certainly to no one in particular, “Methinks the sky’ll clear ‘round sunset, give or take a bell or two.”

He left it at that. She hated that he had, just a little, even as she knew he had the right of it.

Hanvesh had made rabbit stew out of her catch that night for dinner, and their little ones had been eager to help her make bread. 

The conversation at the dinner table never veered toward Serella’s “constellation,” lively as ever though it was. It was nice, always, to sit and watch her family happily chatter about their day. To bask in the warmth they exuded, the warmth they folded her into. 

But her thoughts were malms away from the table in that moment. Despite not having set foot there in almost a decade, a massive gate of wrought iron and stone cast a looming shadow over her thoughts. 

Realistically, she knew she could not keep her children from knowing forever—even if she did not tell them, their school would doubtless be covering broader Eorzean maps and history any day now. Though her name would not be there, the shape of the place would be unmistakable, and then the questions would follow; chief among them, the question of the household’s secrecy surrounding it. 

Nay, better to at least try.

There was about a two-bell span in the evening, after the house had gone to sleep, that Myrina knew her daughter would often shove pillows under her blankets and sneak down to the study, where all those star charts and fairytales were within her grasp, with time uninterrupted and free. Doubtless, Serella was eager to be nose-deep in some map or other, still dedicated to her new discovery.

Myrina knew a better mother might try to reign that in, to stamp down a bad habit the moment it was found. But she had been one such child once, scurrying in the shadows of her own home, delighting in the thrill of sneaking without true fear of harm. She could find no good in denying her daughter the chance to befriend the dark.

Tonight, though, she could give her daughter something better: an answer.

As expected, her ears perked at the sound of little feet trying to cling to the sides of the stair steps to reduce their creaking. In an effort to startle her daughter the least, Myrina waited until the footsteps hit the bottom before slipping out .

And, as expected, Serella spun around with such shock that she nearly sent herself to the floor when she met her mother’s eyes from the top of the stairs.

“You’re not in trouble,” she promised her daughter around the lump in her throat, holding up her hands as if to show she was unarmed. “There’s something I wanted to show you.”

Her daughter regarded her with wide eyes, watching her as she closed the distance.

“What do you mean?” Serella asked hesitantly, her whole body already bent in the shape of cornered prey.

Hard not to wince at that, but Myrina managed.

“I heard,” she said, and produced her daughter’s crude star map, “that you found yourself a constellation?”

Serella looked at her own drawing like she was somehow in trouble.

“Well…yeah. I mean,” she said in a halting voice that snagged on her own nerves. “I can’t find it in any of the books or maps I’ve been able to check. It’s up in the sky. What else could it be?”

Before she could talk herself out of it again, Myrina asked, “Would you like to know?”

That got a look of surprise on her daughter’s face, her spine unfurling as the fear left her. 

Then, as though the two of them were conspiring, she leaned in an whispered, “Do you know, Ma?”

At that, Myrina couldn’t help but crack a smile as she motioned with her head toward the front door and said, “Something like that. C’mon— get your shoes, and I’ll show you.”

With that, she led her curious daughter out through the front door and toward the treeline.

When she stopped in front of the tree that had been struck, she peered up through the burned branches.

Had she not known what those little twinkling lights were, she might also have thought they were stars; even with this hole, the trees above hadn’t thinned so much that the sky was in unobscured view.

“This one, right?” she asked, pointing at the gap.

When Serella nodded, Myrina mirrored the gesture, knelt before her daughter, and offered an open arm.

“Here, hang on to me.” Myrina instructed.

When Serella tilted her head in clear confusion, Myrina’s smile returned as she said, “We’re going to fly for just a moment. So hang on tight.”

Gasping and gawking, her daughter scrambled, her little arms wrapping around her shoulders and squeezing. 

For as unfamiliar as she was with laying her heart bare with her children, she knew without conscious thought how to swing her daughter onto her hip, arm wrapped around her like she was a toddler all over again.

It had been a while since Myrina had properly ridden the wind…but dragons never forget how to spread their wings. They who have supped on that selfsame aether were no exception.

Just as well. Short though the trip might have been, it still required a few hops around the dense canopy branches so as to hit the bigger ones, though just before breaking through the treeline, she made sure to wind up her leap as far and as high as she possibly could.

Might as well give her daughter a good view—nay, the best view she could.

Bursting through the treeline felt almost like breaking through the surface of water—for as much as she had come to love Gridania, its dense treeline made it easy to forget the world beyond and above it. It was easy to drown in the leaves. 

Now, though, the whole world stretched out in every direction further than the eye could see. Shaded treetops stretching out as far as they eye could see.

And above that, all, the glittering canopy hung higher than any tree. The stars welcomed her and her daughter into the rest of the world in that moment. The moon fair set the world alight that they might see its splendor.

Dragoons were ever taught to land lightly and hover on the barest of points, and much like their penchant for moments of flight, it was a muscle that never truly fell out of practice.

So it was nothing for her to perch on the natural “net” of the treetops, so dense as to support their weight on one of the highest branches as she settled in and set her daughter on her lap.

For so long as she drew breath, Myrina would never forget the look on Serella’s face, staring straight up at the sky—nowhere near where her newfound “constellation” was, mind, but just staring, unblinking, at the expanse of the universe with tears rolling down her cheeks as she took in the width and breadth of the night sky for the first time in her life.

“Wow…” Serella whispered. “I’ve seen it in pictures, but…”

Her words trailed off in a sniffle, even as she did nothing to wipe her tears away.

Myrina let her process this new discovery, her head on a swivel as if she would never see the sky again and had to commit it to memory. 

With a little lean toward her daughter, she murmured, “Just ahead of us. There’s your constellation—but look closer.”

Following Myrina’s outstretched hand, Serella at last scrubbed her face of tears and looked out, out, out beyond the treeline, on the far edge of the horizon. Dozens of lights twinkled back, all concentrated in the shape of a spire.

Or more accurately, several spires.

“It’s…a building…?” Serella trailed off, squinting at the outline that encased her newly discovered stars and leaning in as though it will help her see.

Eyes widening as she straightened again, she squeaked,  “...No, it’s a castle!”

Oh, how far and near to the truth she was. The truth might well break her heart. 

Despite everything, Myrina couldn’t help but smile as she said, “Something like that. It’s where I’m from.”

Serella’s head had never whipped toward her so fast.

“You came from over there?!” she exclaimed.

“Of a certainty. It’s—”

In her mind, Ishgard was as constant as the Twelveswood itself. Two homes, alike in cruelty, tumultuous as a roiling tide; made of the same waters and always destined to crash together but never unite. 

Myrina could not tell that to her child. Not when she looked up at her with such wide, inquisitive eyes. She could not be the first one to take that away from her.

“The…castle, you called it? It sits on a mountaintop with the surrounding town. It’s called Ishgard.”

Serella repeated the name slowly, as if she were testing its authenticity.

“What’s it like, Ma?” she asked.

Just as Myrina had feared. 

Slowly, she found the words to skirt around the horrid nature of the Theocracy. Staring out at the myriad lights that flickered so far away, her tone almost carried her voice to those windowsills she had so often pressed her nose against.

“The people there—they’re warm and kind. For the most part, that is,” Myrina started slowly, because that was true enough. “But they’re…it’s…”

Swallowing, she tried again, “No one is allowed to be their truest selves, unless they are inherently cruel. No one is able to truly be friends—with one another or with those not from there. It is a place cursed with loneliness and strife.”

As she expected, Serella’s tear-glossed eyes widened in shock and hurt at this revelation. Of course her tender little heart couldn’t bear the thought of such a place.

Rather than a fresh wave of tears, she shifted in her mother’s lap to face her fully as she asked, “Then we can make friends with everyone! Then they won’t be lonely anymore! Oh, can’t we go mom? Please?”

Myrina knew that look on her daughter’s face. That bright gleam in her mismatched eyes with a big smile that showed all her little baby teeth in an expression that dared the gods themselves to tell her she couldn’t fix an entire town with love.

Her sweet, innocent little girl. May she never know the harsh truths of the world—or may she defy them upon discovery.

With that little prayer in the back of her mind, she kissed the crown on her daughter’s head and promised her, “When you’re old enough to hold a sword and draw a bow, sweetheart, we’ll go together.”

Time had a funny way of half-breaking most promises and poorly keeping the rest. Twenty and two summers later, Serella would cross the Arc of the Worthy, driven there by the harshest truths and the cruelest lies of the world and trying not to wonder what her mother might make of it all.

[myfavouritelunatic]

More Painful Sacrifices - The Final Chapter

This fic has been such a joy to write! Thank you to all who have taken the time to engage with it, it means so much!

We end with all of the feels and some smut of course. I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Galadriel kept falling.

And falling… and falling.

There seemed no end to her descent.

The darkness grew only thicker, a pitch black nothingness consuming her and pulling her down.

“Halbrand!” She cried out, her voice pained, a lamentation, a plea. The sound of it echoed eerily around her, and she felt herself begin to cry as she received no answer. “Halbrand!” Galadriel was in mourning, and she wondered if the darkness all around was the manifestation of that grief and how it was refusing to let her stop falling.

“Hold onto that feeling! Hold on to me! Please… I cannot lose you… I cannot… you were the hope that kept me going, my reason to keep fighting! Why have you left me alone, Halbrand? Come back to me, my love! Come back! Catch me… I need you, Halbrand, I need you… please… please…”

Her words vanished into sobs as her sadness took hold of her completely. Galadriel was so lost to her pain that she did not notice her body begin to hasten its descent, and eventually, she began to float softly to land on a bed of grass under a night sky. The stars appeared to her now overhead, twinkling in their wisdom of having witnessed all things. Once she might have worried they would judge her for her actions, but now she did not care. For she was old like them, having observed this world for years almost countless.

“Not as old as me.” A voice spoke to her left. A voice that brought her so much joy. Galadriel turned her head, but then sat up quickly for the sight of him. Halbrand was beside her, looking luminous under the glow from above. He shot her a small smile at her reaction, and laughed as the she-elf launched herself atop him in a desperate embrace.

“Happy to see me, elf?”

“You… have no idea.” She spoke, pulling back to take in his visage. The stars were set in his eyes, and she ran a tender caress across his face to see them twinkle for her. “I thought you lost.” “I’m never lost, Galadriel. I’m always with you. We are bound, remember? Our fëar are intrinsically connected, now and forevermore. It’s why I’m here with you, in this place. Why it is just us.” “Where… where are we?” “Does it matter?” Halbrand raised a hand to her face now, and Galadriel sighed, turning her face into his palm. “All that matters is that we are together, yes?” “Yes.” “Good.” He smiled at her again, a little wider this time, and her heart threatened to burst into song. “You are so beautiful, Galadriel… so radiant.”

As he said the word, it became like a command, and the she-elf felt a warmth spread through her, and a soft light began to emanate from within, coating her body in a glow that illuminated more of her love to her eyes. “Your light is transcendent… the most… perfect of all things. Would that I could taste it… let it become a part of me.” She smiled down at him fondly. “Is it not already? If we are bound, as you said?” “Our fëar, yes, but our bodies… for me to receive all of your light and let it transform me… you must receive me within you.” “Transform you? What do you mean?”

“You were right, Galadriel. About the part of me that… that is your Enemy. This is how you pull me out, sunder me from him. Give me your light, Galadriel. Let me share in it. Then I will become whole.” “We are… we are not in the seen world?” She stammered, fearful, shifting herself away from him, putting her guard up for her surroundings. “Does it matter?” Halbrand asked her again. “Stop avoiding my questions, Halbrand. Where are we?”

He sat up and shifted himself back to her side. Galadriel did not flinch. “We are neither in the seen or unseen worlds, my love. It is a place only your heart could conjure. The perfect place for your light to shine.”

Galadriel cast her vision across the landscape, taking in rolling hills and beautiful trees, their leaves blowing gently in the wind; mountains on the horizon, jagged and capped in white. The stars made them glow too. Or was that her?

“I do not know this place. Only… it reminds me of–” “Valinor. Yes. But these are not the lands undying, more the lands unlived. Endless space for you and I to roam, a kingdom to make our home.” Galadriel felt a single tear roll down her cheek in silence, in awe… in worry. “But… we cannot stay here. We shall leave if… when I give you my light.” “And then we can begin the search for a realm of our own. Free from those who would oppose us. Free from–” “Sauron. He would be gone forever. Replaced. By you. A true healing.” Halbrand smiled and nodded, before shifting to Galadriel ever closer, and taking her face in his hand. “Give it to me, my love. Let me have it. Let me have you. Then our lives together shall truly begin.”

Something about all of this suddenly began to feel… off. Something was missing. Something wasn’t right. But Galadriel looked at Halbrand, gazed deeply into his starlit hazel eyes, his body covered in the warmth of her glow. She saw nothing but his love.

For it was all she wanted to see.

She kissed him, yearning to feel that which he made her feel back in Adar’s camp. His lips so soft and loving upon hers, his touch simply everything. She felt that, and more, now, in this moment, as their kiss evolved so rapidly, deepening into one that was anything but chaste.

Halbrand possessed such great urgency for her, such desire. Galadriel felt the flames he had kindled roar into a raging fire, and she matched his intensity, quickly seeing to herself being ready for what was to come.

This was it, here and now, all she had wanted from him, all she wanted to take, and give. Halbrand guided her body to rest back down in the grass, a bed so soft, and he covered her with his body in such a consuming way, she could think of nothing more but of wanting to please him, of surrendering all that she was to him.

The daze was heady as his mouth kissed its way along her jaw and down to her neck, latching onto her in little sucks that had her crying for more. “Is this how you take my light?” She jested. “Through my very skin?” “No, Galadriel.” Halbrand chuckled into her flesh. “I must get under your skin… directly…” “Oh!” The she-elf gasped as one of his hands found the moist centre between her thighs, two of his fingers slipping in with such ease as if they had returned home. And in a sense, to her, they had. Although this felt even more vivid, even more real than those blissful moments when he had come to her in her mind, giving her what she desired. Only now she was glad she could finally give him something back. Free him from his prison. Free him from Sauron.

After a few motions in and out of her, Halbrand brought his hand and those fingers to his lips, and Galadriel watched stricken by her longing as he tasted her. “Mmmm…” He sighed. “Only a small taste of you and… I feel myself come alive… the gift that you are…” He proceeded to kiss her again, only this time with a ravenous hunger, a bruising of her lips, like he could not get enough.

It was bordering an intensity that concerned her, his roughness was seeing the love for her slip away, and for a moment Galadriel wondered what the true purpose of their coupling might be. But the moment he slid down her body to place his tongue upon her, all doubt fled. “Halbrand!” She moaned his name, feeling nothing but ecstasy as he lapped at her sex, gnawing at the sensitive skin, sucking on her bud that quickly became swollen.

He groaned into her as she clenched the hair on his head and thrust herself up into him in time with his movements. Take all of me… Galadriel uttered in her mind, unable to form any words while she was making sounds of total rapture.

Gladly… Halbrand replied… And with great pleasure…

She felt herself fast approaching the edge, another cliff she so desperately wished to fall from. His senses so keen, Halbrand ceased, and with her shine on his lips, he rose to stare down at her, mouth parted, gasping. Like a beast ready to devour his prey.

Galadriel watched him remove his tunic, his breeches, until nothing remained but the man she loved and the body she wanted. He certainly was ready to devour her.

Climbing back onto her, he parted her legs wider with his knees, and she could feel the tip of his shaft moving along her. Not searching for something but teasing.

“There is no going back after this, Galadriel. Your light will be mine. Bound to me that I might be made complete and eradicate all darkness.”

And I bind you to power…

The words of Sauron rang through her mind, the memory too strong not to be called to her in this moment. But what did that mean? She had rejected Sauron’s offer, power, as much as she wanted it, and was tempted by it. She had decided Halbrand was who she wanted, who she wanted to give her light to, especially if it would see only good things come to fruition. But he was borne of Sauron. In binding together now, did that mean his original bargain still stood? Would she be bound to his power somehow through this act?

Bound… to the Deceiver?

Not dark… not with you at my side…

Galadriel looked up at Halbrand now, at the man she loved so dearly. She raised a hand to touch his face, and he smiled fondly, warmly down at her. How could this man be evil? He could not be capable of the horrors Sauron had committed. And certainly, nothing of the like would be possible once she shared with him her light and remained by his side henceforth. Only ever Halbrand. Never Sauron.

Ever again.

She returned his smile, and taking it as acknowledgement, Halbrand moved himself within her, causing Galadriel to shudder and gasp and cling to his bare back. He gasped as well, his face filling with almost a look of relief. The she-elf shared in that feeling, as she had wanted to be with Halbrand intimately for some time. For she had loved him and wished for that love to be expressed with more than just words. And now under the cover of star shine, the rich earth beneath them, their love did manifest.

With each snap of his hips, Halbrand found a place deep within her that spread undiluted bliss through her body. It was beyond remarkable, and beyond anything she had ever dreamed it would be. He kissed her, their tongues meeting in a passionate tempest, as his pace began to quicken, and her grasp on him turned into nails pressing into skin.

Galadriel felt a change. Something was shifting inside of her being, as if her very destiny was being altered, her purpose moved to align with something more, something greater. And as she looked upon Halbrand now, who was succumbing to their rapture, she noticed a change in him too.

Her light.

Their binding was working.

Before he had felt more like a spirit or spectre, haunting her fëa and this darkened realm. But now, he was life personified. There was colour in his cheeks, warmth in his flesh, and his eyes radiated as if the sun itself were now set within them. He was of the night no longer, he belonged to the day. He belonged to her.

“You’re glowing… Halbrand…” “We… both are…” He replied with a grin. “Galadriel…”

The way he uttered her name then startled her. He’d never spoken it in that way, as one elf might speak it to another. She wondered if perhaps he was lost in the moment, or simply deciding to let hear her name the way she preferred to hear it.

But… she preferred to hear it with his Southlands speech. Not like this, not from him.

As if sensing her doubtful thought, Halbrand attached his mouth to her neck and thrust into her with more deliberate and ruining motions. Soon her cries drowned out her cares. He began to consume her, just as her light was now consuming him. It was as if the two of them were suspended in their own small world. Nothing could touch them or harm them, all was filled with peace and bliss. Galadriel felt like she was flying, gliding through the air, carried by Halbrand as if he were the wind and she a simple rose petal.

She felt that bliss within her begin to rise and build toward something she craved, but something that might destroy her completely. Halbrand was there with her, moaning in her ear between whispered words of praise and gratitude. The two of them were illuminated now in equal measure, but then something caused Galadriel’s gaze to shift eastward. The sun was rising.

Halbrand’s light began to dim.

Galadriel felt something begin to pull her away.

“No… no…” He uttered, scooping his hands underneath her body, pulling her up to him so she was now astride his lap. He was still sheathed within, and this new position only increased the euphoria that was on the precipice of igniting every part of her. Galadriel writhed against him, seeing the desperation in his eyes, the urgency, as if they were running out of time. And as the sun rose higher, it became clear that they were.

“Do not leave me, Galadriel, please…” He begged her. “I do not wish to leave you…” “But you are… I can feel you fading… why would you go?” “I… I am not… mmmm… leaving Halbrand…” She thrust against him harder, wrapped her legs around him as if to anchor herself down. “I’m… so close… your light, it’s… it’s so close… almost… complete…”

Now Galadriel’s own light was dimming, but she did not feel weakened by it. In fact she had never felt stronger. She had never felt more… powerful.

Her head was thrown back in a cry of pleasure so all encompassing. It was a guttural song of surrender and a thing not of beauty to her, but to him it was everything. “Yes… Galadriel… you can feel it now, can you not? All of me… who I am… what I have given you… see now… what you have given me.”

She looked back down at Halbrand who was so bright to her eyes. So ethereal and almost nothing resembling the man she loved. She watched the expression on his face as his own pleasure overtook him, and saw how in the midst of this near blinding light, he was indeed transformed.

Not in spirit or mindset. But in body.

Once the light settled within him, it revealed to her elven eyes that which she had fought against. The one she had rejected. The one who had pained her so. The one who had given her no choice but to fall off that cliff and into this unknown place.

Sauron looked at her with nothing but love, his blue eyes shimmering in the dawn, his long blonde hair moving lightly in the wind. Galadriel felt a single tear fall down her face, and the pull away from him gained in strength.

But he did not dim.

It was too late for that.

“Galadriel…” He spoke her name with a sigh. She was trembling and she could do nothing else. All she could do was wait for the sun to sweep her away. “Now I am whole. Now all Middle-earth will worship your light. Through me. If you will not be my queen then… I shall be a ruler worthy of us both. But the power I have given you… it will keep the door open. Always. If you should change your mind. If you desire… more.”

The horror she felt began to ease, as the voices of her High King and Elrond entered her heart. As covered in light as Sauron was now, he was so very cold against her body, his deception now ceased, allowing her to feel his evil. And yet the sun still shone, high in the sky above them now, and Galadriel could feel its warmth healing her, drawing her away completely at last from her enemy.

“Did you ever love me?” Galadriel could not help but ask, as she faded away from him. “Did Halbrand ever exist?” “I have many names. He was one.” Sauron paused, smiling at her. “You are magnificent, Galadriel. Loving you comes easily.” He then raised his hand to wipe away her tears.

But she did not feel his touch any longer.

-----

As she felt herself return to the waking world, Galadriel could sense the change Sauron had made in her, the power that now rested under the surface, and also the absence of something. The part of her she had given in unwilling exchange. A most painful sacrifice. But it had all been for the now meaningless hope that Halbrand could be saved. That he and Sauron were not one in the same. It had been for nought.

“As much as you desired it, that I shall never be.”

But it was real… I felt it… She lamented in her mind, struggling to understand it. And as her eyes blinked open, her hand could not help but come to rest upon the wound he had left. Healed physically it seemed, but the true wound ran much deeper than the piercing of that crown.

Sauron had embedded himself in her now, with his power, and his hold of her heart.

Resting her hand upon that scar… it was the only way she could truly feel him.

And how he would never be gone from her.

[loiteringandlurking]

okay so this is that self indulgent javey oneshot ...

it gets an eeny bit spicy towards the end but it's like only a little bit ...

consider this my bday gift to you guys !

Jack and David didn't realise it had gotten dark out until they could see their reflections clearly in the windows.

They weren't alone, of course, many other late night studiers still sat at their own desks, but Jack and Davey were lucky to be separated from most others by some rows of bookshelves.

And in the mellow lights from overhead, Davey's unkempt curls made shadows on his face, illuminating and accentuating his high cheekbones, sun-kissed freckles and roman nose. Jack watched the way his long fingers glided across the pages of his textbook, occasionally dropping to the desk to pick up a highlighter. Jack watched the way his eyebrows drew together as he reread a passage, the way his cool blue eyes blinked a few times.

God, he was inconceivably pretty. Jack is a very lucky man.

Davey glanced up at Jack, once quickly, as if to check what Jack was doing, then again, realising Jack's eyes were already on him.

Davey shot him a questioning look and a smile, and Jack grinned back. He watched Davey's tongue as it swiped across his beautiful soft lips, and watched those elegant fingers tuck a stray curl behind his ear. Watched as he parted his lips slightly, to sigh, resting his head on his hands, gazing at Jack.

God, what Jack wouldn't give to have his lips on Davey's right about now. It was a never-fail remedy after a long day.

Davey must have read Jack's mind, because he smiled, that downward-pointed smile that Jack loved and Davey hated, and stood, waiting expectantly. Jack stood too, wincing as the squeak of his chair echoed in the near-silent room.

He let Davey take his hand and lead him into an aisle of books- philosophy, judging from the covers.

See, their university was very old. Solid-oak-wood-shelves type old. So solid, in fact, that the only noise was a quiet 'oof!' as Davey turned, his back against a shelf, grabbed Jack's collar, and pulled him in close.

'Hey.' Davey whispered, smiling coyly.

'Hey.' Jack replied, feeling blush heat his cheeks. 'God, you're beautiful.'

Davey circled his fingers on Jack's shoulder, whisper-giggling. God, talk about seductive.

Jack let one hand rest on Davey's hip, the other on his cheek, and gently connected their lips. Electricity flowed through him, like it was their first kiss all over again. Davey smiled, pulling Jack impossibly closer as he opened his mouth, giving Jack's tongue entrance. Jack gladly obliged, running his tongue over the inside of the mouth he knew so well. He sighed happily against Davey's mouth, moving both hands down to the other boy's hips.

When Jack pulled away for breath, he took great care in memorising every detail of Davey's face. His lips, now teasing a new, slightly bruised look. His nose and cheeks, dusted pink. His eyes, storm-blue and horribly sparkly. His pupils, blown wide.

Jack lifted one hand just inside Davey's shirt, dragging his thumb over the jut of his hip-bone, revelling in the way Davey seemed to vibrate at the feeling.

'God, you're...' Jack whispered, unable to find the right words. 'Just incredible.'

'You too.' Davey sighed more than said. He gazed dreamily at Jack, making his heart skip a beat. 'Tu es plus beau que le soleil... j'ai besoin de toi.' Davey murmured, moving a hand to play with Jack's bottom lip.

'Fuck, Dave...' Jack whispered. 'You can't just talk to me like that.'

'Like what?' Davey asked innocently, snaking his arms around Jack's shoulders. 'Comme ça?'

'You know I think it's sexy.' Jack groaned, dropping his head into the crook of Davey's shoulder.

'Tu es adorable, mon amour.' Davey whispered in the most silky tone Jack had ever heard. 'Tu aimes quand je parle comme ça, n'est-ce pas?'

Jack had no idea what Davey could possibly be saying, but man oh man was it doing a number on him. And his dick. And it sure did not go unnoticed, seeing as Jack had pulled his hips flush to Davey's at some point.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Davey's mouth. 'Ah chérie, tu es déjà excitée?' Aha. Jack knew that one. Excitée. Horny. 'Juste d'après mes mots?' Davey took on a more teasing tone, which only turned Jack on more. 'Oh, mon beau garçon.'

'Oui.' Jack grunted, letting Davey rub his back, almost sympathetically. And Davey had the audacity to giggle, and it was just about the most sultry giggle Jack had heard from him.

'Dave.' Jack tried to sound stern, but it came out more pleading. 'Gimme a break.'

Davey leaned in close to Jack's ear, and whispered, obviously now trying (and succeeding, the little bitch) to sound seductive, 'Non, pas pour toi, mon amour.'

Jack physically couldn't contain it. He ground his hips up, into Davey's, slowly and needily. Davey gasped quietly, not expecting the sensation.

'Jack!' He sounded scandalised. 'We are in a library!'

'Oh, and the library was just fine when you were talking dirty to me in French?' Jack snapped back playfully.

'I was not talking dirty!' Davey placed a hand on his chest defensively. 'I had no idea it was having an effect on you!'

Jack looked pointedly down at his now obvious boner, pressed against Davey. Davey snorted. 'Okay, well, that is not my fault.'

'It is so your fault.' Jack frowned. 'Can we get out of here?'

'Only if you use my textbook to hide your situation.'

'Oh, you asshole. You're about to have your own situation.'

'Can I have my situation at home?'

'You asshole.'

Davey shrugged. 'At least I have a situation that's under control.'

'Say sorry. Right now. Or I'm taking care of my situation, right here right now.'

'Jesus!' Davey held his hands up placatingly. 'I'm sorry. .... Mon amour.'

'You ass.'

[hournites]

for the best friends to lovers prompt- "did that kiss mean anything to you"

hope you are doing well!! i love your writing 🫶🏻

Soundless Spin

“You start.” 

Doja Cat blasted through Cindy’s speakers, fancy chandeliers overhead shaking from the noise as Rick eyed the offensive Bud Light in front of him. It pained him that Blue Valley, Nebraska couldn’t shake the 20th century out of its roots–Somehow, even amidst 2020 billboard charts, Jackbox games, and Tiktok trends, the only activity collectively agreed upon tonight was spin the bottle. 

“Do I have to?” 

“Yes,” said Cindy, already bored at how long he was taking. Why was she facilitating this nonsense–she hates half of the school. That said, Rick also didn’t understand how they scored invites to her party. Or why the girls wanted to go. They might have not been at each other’s throats anymore with the ISA discontinued, but it wasn’t exactly like they were close friends. Since the JSA recovered the true Sylvester’s pickle brain, Rick stopped applying logic in his life when he didn’t need to. Crowded between drunk teens sat in a seance approved circle, everyone waited on Rick to start the game he had assumed was a joke. 

“No, you don’t have to,” said Beth reassuringly from across the room, though Rick suspected the second it was her time she’ll nope out. She looked around the group of classmates, sober as a judge. “Please remember that kissing should always be consensual!” 

Cindy rolled her eyes. “It's not that serious, Dr. Chapel Jr.” She shrugged in that nonchalant way before she stirred the pot. “Rick might land on Cameron, for all we know.”

Yolanda facepalmed. “We’re supposed to be encouraging Rick, not giving him the ick.” 

Cameron shot Yolanda an icy look. She raised a brow in retaliation.  “I said what I said.”

Courtney, nestled beside him, placed an ineffective hand on his knee. To Rick, she chanted, “C’mon! Spin, spin, spin, spin!” 

Everyone joined in. 

“Spin! Spin! Spin!” 

“Fine. Fine!” he shouted loud enough to be heard, blowing hot air out of his mouth. “I get it!” He raised both hands in the air to get some of Cindy’s cheerleading friends to stop hollering, their enthusiasm giving him minor concern. “I’m doing it. I’m doing it.” 

The empty beer bottle spun tightly around their sitting circle–Rick anticipated disaster, regretting his cave to peer pressure the second his hand lifted away. Anyone but Mahkent. Anyone but Mahkent, he nearly prayed in mounting desperation. It whirled around Yolanda on his right, Becky Sharpe, Cindy and the cheerleaders, tipped past Jenny Williams, slowed by Courtney, and crawled past Cameron until it hesitantly landed on Beth. 

Rick jerked his eyes up, meeting her gaze. His heart stopped for, like, a minute. He’d been so caught up in who would be the worst option, he hadn’t had enough time to think what would happen if the bottle landed on one of his friends.

What the hell should I do?  

Courtney covered her mouth to hide her giggles. “Wow! Must be fate.” 

“Girlie,” Yolanda whisper-mimed, shaking her head and zipping her lips. “Shut up.” 

It didn’t matter–Rick easily ignored Courtney cajoling them six ways to Sunday because he couldn’t hear her. The music distorted around them as he tried to pick up on Beth’s cues. 

He almost asked her, should I spin again? 

Then her lips lifted into a small cheeky smile. Of course, Beth wouldn’t have let herself play if she minded getting a few kisses from this game considering she was the one reminding everyone about consent. And, he came to realize, this would be his first kiss sober. It scratched an itch in his brain to think it would be with Beth. They could laugh it off later. 

“Well?” some dude huffed, impatient. “Are you kissing or not?”

Rick cleared his throat. “Beth, are you sure…?” 

But she was already making her way towards him, answering his question. 

Okay. Welp. We’re doing this. 

Instead of shuffling into the middle of the circle like a circus act, Rick let her come to him. Once she was in arm’s reach, he reached forward, hauling Beth into his lap to move her away from a sticky beer spill. It was easier, more comfortable—Less of a spectacle, this way. 

“Oof.” She laughed breathlessly as he rearranged their limbs. “Hi there. This is close.” 

“Sorry,” he said, embarrassed, ready to shove her off him if she didn’t like it. 

Beth touched his hand. “Don’t apologize.” She was right, this was so close. He could count every curly eyelash of hers behind those dark frames.  “Did you know this only had a 7% probability of happening?” 

Rick inwardly rolled his eyes at her math brain guzzling out computations at a time like this. Why wasn’t she nervous? “I did not. It’ll just be a peck, okay?”

Her brown eyes brightened in the dim party room and she nodded. “Sure!”

Rick cupped her jaw, cautious to be gentle, then tipped her chin up so he could lean down and kiss her.

She was ready for it. She closed her eyes and looped her arms around his neck, meeting his quick peck with another kiss before he could end it. It caught him off guard when Beth let out a tiny sigh. 

It felt good. Right. Rick couldn’t pull himself away. 

She pushed herself up in his lap and then there was more. Rick’s thumb pressed against her cheek. He hadn’t had anything to drink since they first walked in, but his mind went warm and fuzzy, like that first sip of alcohol down his throat. Everything slowed around them. He didn’t know what they were doing or cared where they were, he just wanted the soft way Beth’s body pretzeled against his, her hand now moving, exploring down his neck to rest over his chest. It wasn’t rushed, or unsure, Beth was taking and he was giving or maybe it was the other way around. She let out another hum, and then there was another long lazy kiss, hypnotic enough for Rick to nearly believe that he had a soul she could’ve kissed out. 

“Woah, okay! Ew? Too much.” Jenny W clapped her hands. “Time’s up! Spin again!” 

He blinked out of the trance. “What?” 

She gave him a shy smile. “That was nice.”  Beth slid herself out of his lap seemingly unaffected nor aware of how she had just turned his life upside down.

 Nice? That was—Okay. Apparently the most intimate moment in his 18 years was just “nice.” Rick was fucked. 

“Yeah,” he croaked out, scared that if he spoke further his voice would crack, the tension between them was still palpable. Say something. You have to say something.

He focused on forming a coherent sentence out of his mouth. They should leave. To do what? He had no idea (yes, he did–her lips, that touch, the perfume on her neck, he needed it memorized). He also needed to process what the hell just happened, and, not surprisingly, Beth was very good at analyzing weird shit that happens to them–but not usually to both of them at the same time. 

“You heard me, right? It’s your turn now.” Jenny W thrust the bottle into Beth’s hand, not giving Rick the option to get a word in. 

“Oh,” Beth said. “Sorry!” 

He watched in stunned silence as she returned to her spot and wordlessly spun again. It landed on a guy from Ms. Woods’ calculus support group and jealousy took a hold of him with an iron fist. 

He got up and left, announcing he needed a piss, though the terrible excuse was luckily drowned out by the latest remix. Unable to stomach Beth kissing someone else, the rest of the night blurred like watercolors on a canvas. 

Nothing except the bleeding dark pinks of her lips dripped into every corner of his mind, the browns of her soft eyed stare, haunting his sleep. He suffered through the blue phantom-pain of Beth in his lap. The way she moved in it and how boldly he pulled her to him without second-guessing what he was doing. 

What was he doing? 

~.~ 

“Assuming the calculations from the goggles are correct, we would have six hours in the pocket dimension.” Beth wrote notes to follow her thinking on the Pit Stop whiteboard with a green marker, her goggles projecting a diagram. “That’s one hour in our dimension, meaning hypothetically your hourglass won’t time out.

“Got it,” Rick agreed without understanding, miserably distracted by the fact this was his first moment alone with Beth since Spin the Bottle. Thick tension returned with a vengeance. He could taste how bad he wanted her to like him. Every time she caught his eye Rick was certain he’d need a fire extinguisher to douse his hot heart within him. He sat on the table, his fingers tapping anxiously against the wood surface, really wanting to kiss her again. 

She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head like she didn’t quite believe him. Rightly so. He didn’t believe him, and that posed a risk for the JSA tomorrow. “Any questions, then?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

Beth folded her arms. “Really?” 

“Fine. Yeah. One.” 

She looked relieved. “Let’s hear it.” She turned around and wrote QUESTIONS on the board and set out to underline it.  

“Did that kiss mean anything to you?” 

Beth’s impeccable marker line careened to a crooked left. Slowly, she turned around. “That has nothing to do with our pocket dimension trip.” 

“You asked if I had any questions.” 

“Yes, you did. Fair enough.” She sighed in a way Rick couldn’t tell was wistful or annoyed. “Our kiss, you mean?” 

“Yes, our kiss.” Even calling it a kiss, as he had in his brain the last few days, was very modest. There was not just one kiss. There were several kisses. It was an experience. 

“Of course it meant something to me,” she said primly. The marker cap pressed into her inner-palm. “That was my first kiss.”

“That’s it?” 

She glanced away, fixating on the antiquated mugshots of Per Degatron’s goonies, finally starting to look as nervous as Rick felt. “What more do you want me to say? It was nice.”

He almost winced—There she went again. It was nice. For a girl with her vocabulary, that wasn’t promising. 

“It was a nice kiss,” she continued in his stretched silence, “and I’m glad I had it with you. I didn’t think the bottle would ever land on me, or that I would want to play until they made you go first. I’m pretty sure I went into it wanting to watch.” 

He furrowed his brows, trying to read between the lines. If she didn’t want to play unless he went first, then why did she continue with her turn afterwards? She must’ve used him to boost her confidence and practice kissing, not realizing he’d read into it so much. Now Rick felt stupid. 

“You’re hurt,” she said. He was about to argue, but there really wasn’t any point. Not when his voice would probably crack as he denied it. He cursed the accuracy of the mood reader still embedded in her goggles. Sensing his lingering wariness at the object above her hair, she took the goggles off and laid them aside. An offering that she wouldn’t leverage her emotional advantages in this conversation. She used the stool to step up onto the table, taking a seat next to him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you how you feel.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“It doesn’t have to be okay. Wasn’t it just a game?”

His hand inched closer to hers until their fingers brushed. She leaned against his side. He felt a strange catch in his breath as the warmth of her closeness untied some of the knots in his stomach. Beth was beautiful and sweet, and always bursting with compassion. How could he pretend he wasn’t falling for that? “It was supposed to be.” 

She looked up at him. 

“But..it wasn’t.” He met her stare and swallowed hard. “It wasn’t for me.” He dragged a hand over his forehead in disbelief he managed to say it out loud. He summoned the strength to keep going. “It wasn’t a game. It wasn’t just nice, it was…I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want it to stop. I felt like we clicked in that moment and I woke up from sleepwalking through feelings I have for you.”

Beth didn’t say anything, like his confession knocked the wind out of her. “You like me?”

He groaned softly. “It’s embarrassing, I know.” 

“No! No, no it’s not,” she objected, squeezing the hand nearest to hers, but Rick didn’t think he could handle her breaking his heart so softly. 

“Can you just tell me if I need to get over you?” 

“I’m not doing that.” Beth sat up straight. “I called the kiss nice because I didn’t know how else to explain how I felt. I was inexperienced and surprised at myself. I won’t lie, the thought of kissing you excited me, but I thought that was because I trust you, so it would’ve been an easy way to get my first kiss out of the way.” 

Rick started to smile, thinking back on what she said. “You calculated that 7% chance.” 

 “I did, and then that happened. I didn’t know if that’s how kissing always felt like or if it was because it was you. So I kept playing and I had a few more turns after you left, okay, but none of those kisses were like ours. But I knew you hated the game, left right after kissing me, and intended to only give me a peck,” she repeated the last fact with fake quotation marks. “I was the one that got carried away. I was the one that was embarrassed. It was easier if I pretended it didn’t happen so I wouldn’t make things weird.” 

It was such a relief to hear her say that they were on the same page. “So what do we do now?” 

“Well, first, we need to go over the pocket dimension because I know you were not paying attention, which I thought was because you were feeling uncomfortable but now I think it is because you were staring at my skirt.” 

“Holy shit.” Rick scratched behind his neck as heat crawled up his face. This was perilous and exhilarating new ground. He liked Beth and she knew it. He was attracted to her and she could feel it. “Uh, I plead the fifth?” 

Beth laughed and flashed him that same flirty grin from the party. “But as for right now?” Rick knew he was either in for trouble or a really, really good time. “I can think of a few ideas.”

She unearthed the green marker from her pocket and gave it a spin.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ 𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕎𝕙𝕠 ℍ𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕃𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝔽𝕠𝕣 - ℂ𝕙. 𝕀𝕀𝕀: ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 ⚜

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ ✧.*★ Thank you to @evren-sadwrn for the beta read!

Summary: As they wait for the master of the house to return, Vincent and Chidi pass time in the gardens. But when he finally arrives, he brings only strife.

TW: verbal/emotional abuse, crying, semi-sexual yearning

The master of the house did not return for three days. On the second day, Chidi was stationed outside. His stately three-piece uniform had its disadvantages at the moment. In the August heat, the white granite banisters and marble garden statues shimmered with flecks of polished stone. They sparkled almost as brilliantly as the fountain, that oasis far out of reach from the awnings where he enjoyed, at least, a little shade.

As he often did, Chidi kept his mind occupied by imagining how an assailant would enter the garden, and how he would counter. If they were untrained, they would most likely take the obvious route by following the hedges until those opened out onto the gravel walkway leading up to the stairs, a bare stretch in which he could get off at least three shots before they made any further progress. If that failed, he’d rush them from above, push them down and keep firing from overhead. But if they knew what they were doing, they’d approach from the side, tight against the building where ornamental columns could be used as cover. In that case he’d leap over the banister and engage them on the ground hand-to-hand.

But within an hour, the imagined choreography had outlived its charm. After all, he’d played it out a thousand times in his head on dull days such as this one, and once or twice in real attacks as well. Instead, he began wondering what the young master might be doing. Where was he standing, and what task occupied him? What floor was he on? Would he come outside today? Probably not – the heat was oppressive. Once, while walking the perimeter of the building, Chidi caught the movement of a curtain to his right and felt his heart skip, but it was just a maid. He shook his head. The boredom must really be getting to him.

On a five-minute break, Fritz sidled up to him in the entrance hall. “You have a good dinner yesterday?”

“Who told you about that?”

“Everyone.” Fritz’ eyes were full of mirth but he sobered up quick enough, ever defensive of his friend. “Did the Comte mess with you?”

As if there was anything he could do if he had. “Only as much as always. Like you said, it was a good dinner.” He hurried to change the subject. “How was yours? You had the evening off, right?”

“Yeah, it was really nice. I talked to my mama.”

“How’s she doing? Healthy?”

“Oh yeah. Telling me about the bingo nights she goes to.” He chuckled. “They let you talk to your brother recently?”

“Last week. He’s doing good.”

For every Myrmidon, there was a life hanging in the balance. As the Marquis Àlderic always said, “Les proches sont en laisse. [Loved ones are leashes.]” And he held all their leashes in his fist. An ordinary oath of loyalty was not enough. No, they each had come to Àlderic in desperation at one point or another, begging him to protect a family member in danger of gang retaliation or prison or who knows what else. For Chidi, it was his little brother. And for Fritz, it was his mom. In exchange, they gave their lives to service. Their gratitude was immeasurable…because the favor could be withdrawn at any time.

How would the young master rule as Marquis? One day, he would be holding Chidi’s leash. Would he maintain the Myrmidons, once they truly belonged to him? This was the new direction of Chidi’s thoughts as he resumed his post. Would Vincent look after his brother, maintain the pact? Chidi hoped so. He liked this life well enough. Some of the others didn’t, but it suited him to spend his days in patience or in violence by turns, continuously knowing that he was looking after his family and proving his strength through service.

He would like to serve Vincent better than his father, he thought. Not only because he was an easier master, but because…well, there was a goodness to his evil. It was a hearty, full thing. A personal, motivated, emotional kind of evil. Evil that gave a damn. Chidi could put no better words to it than that, though he tried for hours.

The day passed into evening, almost sunset, before Chidi saw Vincent. The Comte drifted into view like an apparition among the rose bushes, a tailcoat billowing behind him in the cool twilight wind. He must have come from the east doors, which were out of sight of Chidi’s watch. His eyes wandered over the grounds, passing over Chidi for just an instant before he went about his business. He seemed in better spirits than the last time they met, singing to himself and picking enough roses to vex the gardener. But they were his to take, and no one could tell him otherwise. He was tidy about it, so as not to prick himself. He knew he was watched, but didn’t seem to care – or else he was actively flaunting. His knife flicked out to kiss each stem, and then each one was tucked into the bouquet on his arm. At last, he came to the fountain.

He hitched one hip over the marble ledge. It seemed impossible for anyone to appear so graceful without effort. In that gesture, his body formed a perfect S-curve that branched off with a flourish onto the arm that held out the roses. One by one, he let their pretty heads drop into the water. The last one, he crushed in his fist. The petals fluttered down until the fountain was littered with dead, sweet things. Satisfied with this little act of consumption, he flounced up again and made off in the direction of the west doors.

Chidi realized he hadn’t been breathing all this time. All his efforts had been focused on resisting the magnetism drawing him forward towards the fountain. Drag your fingers through the water. Stand in it. Bathe in it. How could an impulse feel so obscene while being completely nonsexual? That sweetened water was too sacred, and so was his duty. He did not move until the sun had set and the watch was over. Only then did he walk out across the gravel, to see the roses revolving on the now-black ripples, swollen and ruined, while the Comte slept on the second floor above him. He took a single petal between two fingers. It was so soft…he wondered if Vincent’s skin felt like that…and it was dripping wet… Fuck… he dabbed it dry against his sleeve, and pocketed it.

All the next day, he felt dirty about it. Was it okay to do that? Vincent knew he was watching, he was obviously teasing him, but still, wasn’t it odd… He didn’t dare leave the petal in his room. He shouldn’t have it at all. Yet it felt equally wrong to throw it away. When he had finished dressing for the day, he slipped it back into his breast pocket and resolved to drop it somewhere outside at the earliest opportunity.

He was acting so strange lately…

Fortunately, he stayed busy. At the morning meeting, Eric told them that the Marquis would arrive by end-of-day. Again, the preparations began. Poison testing, patrolling, checking security systems. It was even more unnecessary this time, since it had all been done just days before, but what the Marquis wanted, the Marquis got. And he wanted every arrival to be an event.

The young master was a terror. He insisted that everything must be perfect, and went room to room nagging the servants about dust and the Myrmidons about proper posture. The others complained about him in whispers when he was out of earshot, but it seemed very obvious to Chidi that he was nervous. His father had still not communicated with him, only with Eric.

Vincent treated Eric worst of all. He drew up an entire list of mistakes he had supposedly seen Eric make in the course of the short time he’d been at home. Chidi listened from his post at the doorway of an adjacent room as Vincent assured Eric that Àlderic would reprimand him for everything. But Eric, who had been given leadership for his cool headedness, merely said, “Très bien. Nous verrons. [Very well. We shall see],” and the Comte became even more furious.

At around 5 o’clock, the intercom crackled. “The master is on premises.”

Boots clicked through the entrance hall, backed by the footsteps of the Myrmidons who had accompanied the Marquis abroad. Too few footsteps – but he’d think about that once all was settled.  A deathly quiet yet commanding voice that was familiar to all of them: “Pourquoi Vincent n'est-il pas là pour me saluer ? [Why is Vincent not here to greet me?]”

“Le comte a demandé que vous le rencontriez demain matin, monsieur. [The Comte has requested that you meet with him tomorrow morning, sir],” the servant explained. “Il dit que tu dois être fatigué de ton voyage. [He says that you must be tired from your journey.]” Chidi, in the next room, had to suppress a smile. So Vincent was making the old man wait too, as payback.

“J'espère qu'il ne pense pas que je suis trop fatiguée pour le dîner. Il me rejoindra sûrement. [I hope he does not think I’m too tired for dinner. Surely he will join me.]”

“Je vais lui demander, monsieur. [I’ll ask him, sir.]”

“Non, tu lui diras. [No. You will tell him.]” And the bootsteps continued smoothly down the hall into the Marquis’ study.

With the Marquis settled in, they took stock of the losses. Five men were dead. The rest explained to Eric that they’d been there to assassinate a Mr. Harkan and pass his casinos on to his son by force. The son, one Killa Harkan, would owe the Marquis an important favor in return for power. But the job had only narrowly succeeded, since the mother had fought so viciously for her husband’s life. A bomb, at last, had finished her, but it took five of them along with her. Five good men.

“The Marquis has lost it,” Fritz whispered as the meeting dispersed. “Detonating a bomb next to five of our own just to – “

Chidi hushed him before he could be heard saying something so far out of line, and they parted ways in silence. But the whole affair left a bitter taste in Chidi’s mouth. And he couldn’t figure out why Àlderic had left his son in the dark about such a routine matter of business, immediately after summoning him home.

Vincent did come to dinner after all, looking extremely pale as he passed Chidi in the hallway. The dining room was emptied of servants so that the Comte and the Marquis could speak alone. That was good enough for Chidi – he felt it would be an intrusion to overhear what was about to happen, whatever it was. Things like this had happened more than once in his time with the family. It always ended one of two ways: either the Marquis was reduced to something uncharacteristically deferent and apologetic, or they had a shouting match.

Unfortunately, today it was a shouting match, and it was impossible not to overhear. The raised voices started before they’d even gotten through the first course. At first they were muffled, but soon enough he could make out every word.

“Pourquoi!? À quoi sert Eric de connaître nos affaires alors que je ne les connais pas !? En fait – [Why!? What business does Eric have knowing our affairs when I don’t!? In fact - ]” and here there was a pause while Vincent was no doubt pulling out his list of grievances against the head Myrmidon.

“Ne me présente pas cette bêtise pour essayer de t’épargner ! Eric n’est pas en faute, c’est un homme très bien qui a fait plus pour cette maison que vous ne l’avez jamais fait. J'ai des dizaines de personnes qui seraient très honorées de prendre votre place et qui méritent franchement de le faire. Tu n'as aucun respect, Vincent, c'est toi qui as causé ça ! Si tu veux me cacher des choses, je vais te cacher des choses ! Je ne suis pas stupide, je sais ce que tu as fait en Italie ! [Don’t put this drivel in front of me to try to spare yourself! Eric is not at fault, he’s a very fine man who’s done more for this household than you ever have. I have dozens of people who would be very honored to take your place and who frankly deserve to do so. You have no respect, Vincent, you’ve brought this on yourself! If you’re going to hide things from me, I’m going to hide things from you! I am not stupid, I know what you’ve been doing in Italy!]”

“Et qu’est-ce que j’ai fait EXACTEMENT en Italie, hein ? Renforcer la réputation de la famille ? Vous vous préparez à gouverner ? Je l'ai fait pour VOUS ! Parce que tu voulais – [And what EXACTLY have I been doing in Italy, hm? Strengthening the family reputation? Preparing to rule? I did that for YOU! Because you wanted - ]”

“Vous ne pouvez pas faire quelque chose « pour moi » si vous le faites dans mon dos ! Je sais exactement ce que tu fais ! Vous cachez votre travail parce qu’il est de mauvaise qualité ! [You cannot do something ‘for me’ if you do it behind my back! I know exactly what you’re doing! You’re hiding your work because it’s shoddy!]” Chidi realized he was shaking with protective rage. He tried to stop it by balling his hands into fists but it didn’t work. “Tu as trop peur pour faire tes preuves devant moi parce que tu sais que tu échoueras encore et encore et encore et encore et encore –[You’re too scared to prove yourself to my face because you know you’ll fail again and again and again and again and again  - ]”

“NON! Je me porte BIEN à Rome ! Pour une fois dans ma vie, je vais bien ! Pourquoi ne vois-tu pas ça ? [NO! I’m doing WELL in Rome! For once in my life I’m doing well! Why can’t you see that?]” Vincent…

“Je ne peux pas le voir car il n'est pas là ! Tu es un échec et tu as toujours été un échec et je te dis ça parce que je t'aime ! Quand tout le monde te mentira, mon garçon, je te dirai la vérité. Et la vérité est… [I can’t see it because it’s not there! You are a failure and you have always been a failure and I tell you this because I love you! When everyone else in the world lies to you, my boy, I will tell you the truth. And the truth is…]” His voice sunk below what Chidi could make out.

There was a long silence before anything could be heard again. “Est-ce que tu – est-ce que tu pleures ? [Are you – are you crying?]” What? Was he? Something slammed an ache into the inside of his ribcage like it was trying to claw its way out and blaze a path towards Vincent. You bastard. You made him cry. I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll kill you with fire.

The Marquis, meanwhile, sounded infinitely amused. “Tu sais quoi, tu ne mérites pas la vérité. Vous ne pouvez pas le gérer. Vous ne pouvez pas ! Tu es le fils parfait, mon petit garçon chéri. Voilà, c'est ce que tu veux entendre ? [You know what, you don’t deserve the truth. You can’t handle it. You can’t! You’re the perfect son, my darling baby boy. There, is that what you want to hear?]” He made a noise of disgust. “Hors de ma vue. Vous êtes hystérique. [Get out of my sight. You’re hysterical.]”

The door burst open and Vincent fled, not running, but walking as smoothly as possible despite the tears streaming down his face, hardly breathing. Chidi averted his eyes as if by pure instinct and in another second, Vincent had vanished into his room.

And damn it all, but he followed.

When he reached the staircase, Fritz put a hand on his arm. “What do you think you’re doing? Leave him alone before one of them puts a bullet in your brain, Chidi.”

Chidi rested his eyes on him with such terrifying resolve that he almost flinched. “Fritz. Thank you for looking out for me. But don’t ever tell me to leave him alone in that state. Okay?”

Fritz shook his head and let him go.

And then he was in front of Vincent’s door with absolutely no idea what to do.

Knock, that would be the first step. So he did.

To his surprise, Vincent opened the door. His entire face was distorted into miserable, puffy fury. “C’est extrêmement injustifié. [This is extremely unwarranted.]”

“Je pensais que c'était justifié, monsieur. [I felt it was warranted, sir.]”

Wrong answer. His glare could have killed, and was, in fact, prepared to do so. “Jouons à un jeu amusant dans lequel vous avez dix secondes pour me dire ce que vous pouvez vouloir, et si vous échouez, je vous massacre. [Let’s play a fun game in which you have ten seconds to tell me what you can possibly want, and when you fail, I have you butchered.]”

Before he could think, Chidi reached into his breast pocket. “Tu as laissé tomber quelque chose hier. Je voulais que tu l'aies à nouveau. [You dropped something yesterday. I wanted you to have it again.]” And he handed it over.

Vincent stared at the petal in his palm, crumpled but warmed from resting next to Chidi’s heart for a whole day. His face was completely blank - the misery had been shocked out of him. “Alors toi… après moi… [So you…after I…]”

“Je n'allais pas le garder. [I wasn’t going to keep it],” Chidi explained. “Mais j'ai pensé que tu aimerais peut-être savoir que je l'avais. [But I thought you might want to know that I had it.]” Chidi’s heart was pounding out of his chest.

At last, the Comte met his eyes. “… J’espère que tu sais que tu ne peux pas entrer. […I hope you know you can’t come in.]” Almost as if Vincent wished that he could.

“Je sais. Je voulais juste que vous ayez ça, monsieur. [I know. I just wanted you to have that, sir.]”

Vincent tried to speak, closed his mouth, tried again. “Merci,” he said, quietly, and shut the door.

◃ Back ⚜ Next ▹

Image Sources: 1 2

[arminsumi]

hi sweetie!! how are you? I just wanted to asking if you please write a ¡famous! Armin x reader. You can decide if they already dating or not, as you wish angel. Your stories are spectacular🫶🏻🥹 ilysm<33

you're too sweet aaa 😭💕ty!! i'm good hope u take care too

˗ˏˋ꒰ ⭐ ꒱ STARBOY

░ 🐬 famous!Armin x gn!reader ♪

Your date stood you up at the club, but guess whose bright eyes found you instead?

⚠️Cws; alcohol, partying/clubbing

The flashing lights overhead blinded you as you wove your way through the wild crowd with your best girl. She had been nagging you to come to this club for months, because she desperately wanted for you to meet this somebody that she knew in high school.

"You're gonna love him!" she enthused, sinking another shot. "Always playing cupid, huh?" you sighed in reply, and turned away.

After sinking two vividly-colored cocktails, your friend frowned at her phone. "What's the matter?" you asked. "He said he can't come. Son of a bitch just stood us up like this... and I even – ugh! Never fuckin' mind! Order me another! I'm going to the bathroom, 'be back in a bit." she said, speaking very quickly and heatedly.

She vanished in the sea of faces, the sequins of her dress were outshone by the beaming strobe lights. You squinted greatly again. A young blond took a seat at the bar, but you were too busy updating your group chat on the night.

When you looked up and ordered a margarita for your friend, you must have radiated all your feelings like a furnace; because the blond next to you said something like; "So sour faced, is this not your scene?"

"I'm not – I – I..." you began normally, but when you looked at him, your mind froze and went blank. Empty. Nothing in there, just like the cocktail glass that the bartender swooped up to refill.

That's your favorite silver screen boy. That's Armin Arlert.

God you were nervous. So fucking nervous. You felt your heartbeat in your fingertips.

How could you not have caught that voice immediately? He had such a specific accent; sultry, British, verging on cheeky but still sweet as syrup. His doe blue eyes balanced out that cheekiness. And his hair and style? God damn. The man quite literally had the looks to kill. And just about anyone would surrender to his flirting immediately, like you did – what the hell was happening, you wondered when you responded.

"I got stood up." you told him. "What!" he frowned, "Ah, that's shit, I'm sorry... er, well, mind having drinks with me? My friends are late... 'reckon I'll probably get stood up, too." he laughed. Your heart panged.

Wow, that laugh. That's the laugh that you heard in countless films and interviews. The one that makes you weak in the knees when it's coming through your earphones or phone speaker.

But the effect his voice had on you when it was right next to you, that was indescribable.

"Sure, 'don't mind at all." you replied coolly.

When the margarita was served up, you were so enraptured with Armin's company that you forgot who you ordered it for. By the time your friend came back, you had taken to the dance floor with the starboy.

The heat rose up your body as it moved under the influence of music, alcohol and Armin's subtle flirting. He was so smooth with it, the only way you kept up was because of intoxication boosting your wit and confidence.

No wonder he's a star, you thought as you talked to him more. He has that unidentifiable charm, a magnetism about him that reels your curiosity in like a good film. And god he knew flattery so well. Flirting was a skill he had clearly mastered.

"I've gotta thank you." he spoke into your ear, you felt both the music and your heartbeat thumping in your body. "One, for blessing my eyes tonight. They were sore from searching the crowd." Armin joked. You laughed, utterly enchanted by him. "And also, because, see, I usually end up lonely in the club; even when my friends don't stand my up, haha. Shit gets lonely either way."

A lonely star. Of course, you thought, that's so fitting to him.

"Experiencing loneliness in a crowd." you murmured back, "I get that..." you only vaguely got it, really, but did it matter? All you needed to understand was the general idea, what was more important was that he was openly appreciating your company.

And you were no more than a charming stranger to him.

He excused himself to the bathroom. Your friend was sat at the bar gawking, expecting an explanation from you – she pointed at Armin's vanishing physique in the crowd.

"I... I come back from the bathroom and see you on the dance floor, all wrapped up in the arms of Armin fucking Arlert? Insanity! I love you, I love this – 'nother Margarita please darlin'! – HE WHAT! No way he fucking asked for your number! Don't pull my leg – HE SAID WHAT? Oh, Y/n, go fuckin' get him, snatch him right up. I'll be cheering from here."

You really didn't need to put effort into 'snatching him up' because Armin had his sights set on you for the whole night. Sure, you kindly introduced him to your friend, and his friends arrived unexpectedly; but he was glued to you like he was hungered for a new acquaintance.

"When are you free next weekend?" you asked him boldly. He leaned closer to you, showing you his ear, "Huh?" he asked, so you repeated your question louder over the club noise and music, eyeing out his feather earring. "I'm free any time you are." he winked. He – wait, he what?