#if she has so much as a scraped knee he wants to know about it
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Hi love!! How are you?
May i ask for another part of the human Thena/eternal Gil Au pretty please?, it's a very interesting concept. Thank you đ€đ©·
Thena froze. She completely froze. What the hell was that thing? It rose up out of the water like it was a demon, its skin and flesh crawling around on its wiry body. She squeaked, "G-Gil?"
The creature floated over to her, examining her curiously. It had a maw of teeth like she had never seen before. "Th...ee...na."
Why did it know her name? What kind of nightmare was this? She tried to run but her knees trembled as she scraped her boot back on the cobblestones. "G-Gil-"
The beast lurched closer, something like vines growing from its neck. "Gil...ga...mesh."
A new chill flooded through her. This thing--it couldn't possibly be the one Gil fought on the news, could it? Sure, they weren't going to parade around the corpse of a monster like that, but surely it would have been reported of something like this was still alive.
"Find," its breath puffed from its jaws like smoke, "Gilgamesh."
"Gil!" Thena got out before turning her face away from the beast. She didn't know why that was the only thing coming to mind, but she was prepared for his name to be her last breath.
"Don't move!"
Well, it wasn't Gil. But rather, Sersi leapt over the railing of the bridge above. She held out her hand--her completely empty, open palm. The thing took a swipe at her but she used her other hand to swipe back. As her finger left the stone cobbles below their feet, shards of glass left her fingertips.
The thing retreated, hissing at the glass in its eyes.
"Run!"
Now her legs worked. Thena followed Sersi down the canal, looking over her shoulder only once. "What is that thing?!"
"It's a long story!"
Maybe all Eternals were bad at communication. Thena followed up the ramp and back to the surface street, although she could barely hear over her heart in her ears. "Where's Gil?"
"He'll be here," Sersi breathed heavily, hands still held out. "He's on his way."
"Sersi," Thena pressed, moving closer to the woman who had her back to her (in an attempt to protect her). "Why did that thing know my name?"
"What?" the other woman fully turned around.
"It spoke, it knew my name, and Gil's," she scowled, more and more tired of being left in the dark.
"Thena," Sersi shook her head, "Deviants can't speak."
"This one can," she corrected, although it didn't last. Sersi took her hand, yanking her away again in a fell blown run. "What is it?"
"I don't know!" It was at least an honest answer. "Dane!"
Dane, undeniably human, was trying to direct the general populace away from the danger. He turned back to them, "Sersi, it's-!"
Thena stumbled as Sersi was picked up by that thing. Its body was already huge to begin with, but it was elevated up on its tentacle-like appendages. She picked herself up as Dane charged at it. "Wait!"
The beast opened its mouth. Just like its eyes, whatever comprised its insides had a sickly, ominous glow to it. It held Sersi by the neck, as if inhaling her air could rob her of her life.
"Let her go!"
Thena's ears popped as charging sound hit the air, followed by sheer impact. The thing went flying back into the water below. Gold particles floated in the air like dust. A second, lighter impact sounded, feet meeting concrete heavily. "Gil?"
"You okay?" he asked Sersi as they landed. She nodded, leaning on his shoulder as she rubbed her neck under her scarf.
"I'll be fine," Sersi assured him. If the powers weren't enough evidence, no human would be able to breathe, let alone speak after the way that thing had handled her. She gasped as Dane plowed into her, hugging her tight despite her brother's presence. She didn't mind it either, happily embracing him in return, "I'm okay, Dane."
Thena watched from a few paces away. Part of her imagined running to Gil the same way, but they hadn't actually spoken since their tense discussion at the museum two weeks ago. She had told him she needed time, and he had respected that, only checking on her well being after the attack, as he had asked to do.
Part of her was glad he had respected her boundary. The other part had been waiting for him to call or text all week.
Gil moved away from his sister and her boyfriend, happy not to watch their affections. He jogged over to her, his hands floating around but never actually landing. "Are you okay?"
She just nodded, her throat completely stiff and dry. That thing never emerged from the water, but she hardly thought that meant it was dead down there. "Gil, what-"
"I don't know," he answered immediately, also looking for the thing or any trace of it. But, not immediately seeing any signs, he focused on her again. And he did manage to bridge the gap and pull her into his arms. His hand rested on her hair, "I don't know, sweetheart."
She could just demand answer--real, proper answers. This was not only not the first time something like this had come up from his past life, but now it was involving her more directly. That thing had spoken her name like a walking nightmare.
Gil tightened his hold on her as she buried her face in his chest. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."
She could remember how she had screamed his name as if it were synonymous with 'help'. All she had thought in that moment was that surely he would come to save her. As if she were some cliched damsel in a work of fiction. It was laughable.
But Gil buried his nose in her hair, pressed his lips to her temple. "Are you hurt?"
She pulled away from him, shaking her head. "It said my name."
Gil wasn't nearly as shocked or appalled as Sersi had been. His face was grim. "It's the same one I fought before. It's different from the other ones we've faced in the past. It learns differently. They've never been able to speak before."
That had all kinds of horrific implications for the biology and evolution of such a creature. "It's the same one?"
He sighed heavily, guiding her away from the damage of everything as crowds started reemerging. He wrapped his arm around her. "It got away from me that time. But it stuck one of those vines in me--I think it got in my head."
That would explain its learning pattern with speech, and unfortunately, why it had known her name. It even seemed to have hunted her down out of recognition. She shivered.
"It's okay," Gil whispered to her, even pulling off his jacket and putting it around her shoulders, despite her having her own. "Nothing is going to happen to you, Thena."
As strong and inhuman as he was, it still sounded somewhat empty as a promise. She let him pull her off the main streets and aside, in front of an old, dimly lit laundromat.
She took him in, watching as he checked that no one was lingering or looking, able to catch them saying something incriminating. "Gil."
He knew what she was asking. He gave her his full attention, taking her hands in his. "Anything you wanna know--go for it."
There was a myriad of things. She looked down at their joined hands. "Why didn't you tell me it wasn't dead?"
"I wasn't sure either," he professed, and she believed it was honesty. "Even if I had my suspicions, I thought it was just scare you if you knew."
She frowned, "I may be human, but I'm not going to cower at the idea of some story."
Maybe that was putting on a brave face of sorts, though. Looking that thing in the eye had been the single worst experience of her life.
"I know," Gil conceded, though. He ran his thumb against the outer edge of hers. "I should give you more credit than that. But I honestly didn't know how to tell you--or anyone. Not even Sersi knew."
That was clear, at least. Sersi had looked completely aghast at the idea that the thing had spoken.
"I don't know if the rest of us know either," he leapt into the next leg of his honesty. "We don't exactly talk much."
She supposed she could understand that. Humans didn't necessarily excel at keeping in touch with their families either. "Perhaps you should try to talk, at least now that you've seen it again?"
He sighed heavily, but nodded.
She huffed more impatiently; she wasn't his mother, or some nagging girlfriend. She wouldn't be the sidelined love interest urging him to go do what he needed to while she waited indefinitely for him. "Gil, whatever that thing is-"
"It's a Deviant, the things we killed--we thought! The last one I fought was in the 17th century," he grumbled, although as soon as he gave her hands a squeeze he relaxed himself again. Did it take practice for him to learn not to squeeze too hard with humans, she wondered. "But that thing...I think maybe it has something to do with Ikaris."
She frowned, "Sersi's ex-husband?"
He glanced around, as if Sersi would catch him talking about it and give him hell for it (they really were siblings). "We haven't heard anything from him or Ajak, not even after the blip."
So, they were aware of the blip! And by the sounds of it, none of them had blipped. Now, she shad even more questions (she had blipped, mercifully, it sounded like).
She gulped. "What does that mean for you?"
He shook his head. He didn't know either. But he was still holding her hands. "I-I don't know. But, Thena-"
She leaned in, tilting her head up to kiss him. It wasn't their first kiss, by any means, but it felt just as significant.
When she leaned back, Gil had the most grave look she had ever seen on his face. "Tell me that wasn't a goodbye kiss."
She wasn't entirely sure, in the moment. But it was not, at the very least, a petty breakup kiss. She gave his hands a squeeze of her own before stepping back. "It's a 'I-trust-you'll-tell-me-more-when-you-know-more' kiss."
That made him brighten considerably, and she was frustratingly happy to see his smile return.
"Gil?" Sersi's voice floated over to them from around the corner. "I guess we need to talk."
He made a face, as if his sister needing him was more trivial than the impending doom they had just faced. He looked away from the corner and back at her with those big brown eyes of his. But she gave him a look. He rolled his eyes, "fine."
Sersi was waiting with Dane, also hand in hand with her human. "You know what we have to do."
"Unfortunately," he grumbled. Thena nudged him; her hand was also still clasped in his. "Let's get home first, try to catch our breath, okay?"
"Not a bad idea, I think," Dane spoke up surprisingly firmly. Gil had described him as someone rather nervous, but perhaps he had an underlying confidence to him when needed.
Thena smiled at the way he kept Sersi close to him. It didn't bother him in the least that his partner was immeasurably strong and fast in comparison, perhaps not even that she was immortal. Watching them walk ahead, they were just a couple whose date had been ruined.
Her last date with Gil had been dinner after work, talking about her day, asking him about the food and what he thought. He had mentioned her meeting his sister, and his sister's new boyfriend he wasn't totally sure about. It was unfortunate that these were the circumstances under which they were actually doing so.
"Hey," he whispered, leaning close to her as they walked a few paces behind. He averted his eyes as Sersi laid her head on Dane's shoulder. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she let out a breath. It looked inviting, although she wasn't sure if she and Gil were in that same place in their relationship. She wasn't sure what their relationship was anymore, entirely of her own doing.
Gil was the one to decide. He pulled his hand from hers, only so he could wrap his arm around her waist. She stumbled into him but he used the opportunity to press his lips to her forehead. "Whatever is about to come our way, I'm glad you're here with me, Thena."
She closed her eyes, relishing the small window of affection. She wasn't sure what was coming their way either. But she was here for it--she was probably a little too willing to face whatever was to come, all things considered. For someone who had told him she needed time, she had come very close to professing her love on what she had thought was her deathbed mere moments ago.
But she should probably decide if she was his girlfriend or not first. "I'm with you, Gil."
#Thenamesh Eternal/Human AU#thank you so much!!!#I'm so glad you liked it I aslo liked how this one came out#a little angst a little action y'know#Thena calls out Gil's name#and Sersi is like uh-oh I know that voice#only because Gil has shown her photos and even a video or two he's taken of them#she looks at Dane like...be right back#the two couples go back to Sersi's#Dane is hovering#being a good protective boyfriend#Gil is still like okay dude I'm watching you#Thena pulls him by the arm#stop it it's sweet#he asks her no less than a hundred times if she's okay if she's hurt at all#if she has so much as a scraped knee he wants to know about it#eventually Sersi and Dane have a good long talk#They're all snuggled up on Sersi's loveseat#Thena eventually succumbs to the adrenaline and exhaustion#Gil lays her down on Sersi's couch and drapes a blanket over her#Sersi who has been pretending to be asleep with her boyfriend#Sersi: are you going to tell her everything?#and he is#because he knows honesty is important to his human girlfriend#and he's going to make this relationship work goddammit#and if it doesn't then it's not going to be because he's not human#also he asks Sersi how she doesn't worry about Dane all the time#she says that she's just not as much as a worrywart as he is goodnight#such a brother and sister moment
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I am BEGGING you to write about hannigram x innocent fem reader. mayyyybee featuring age gap and breeding? :) she just asks them "what does break my belt mean?" and oh..
Caretaker⊠Hannigram x fem! Reader
Synopsis: itâs up to Will and Hannibal to take care of you, however that may be.
Content warning . 18+, MDNI age gap (reader is in her early 20s), spanking/usage of belts, punishments, dumbification, threesome, cum play, daddy kink . hard dom! Hannibal, soft dom! Will
Authorâs Note: I didnât know how to go about this (my brain isnât braining rn) so I did smth similar :) this is literally pure filth like Im ovulating sorry
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âYou need to stop being so hard on yourself.â
Willâs voice is soft as he gently rubs your sock clad feet, watching the small wince that you make when he grazes over a bruised toe. You adjust yourself on your bed, bottom becoming numb from how long youâve been sitting. You slide the sleeves of your dress back up on your shouldersâ they have a hard time staying up, and itâs something that annoys you incredibly.
âHeâs right,â Hannibal chimes from the cushioned seat in the corner of the room. He closes the book in his hand and sets it on the desk beside him. Itâs funny, how different these two men look in your pink, frilly room. âYouâre working yourself too hard, little one.â
You frown, feeling the bed dip as Hannibal joins you and Willâs side.
âBut ballet is important to me.â
âSo is your health,â Will replies, and notices the way you seem to fidget in your dress. âIs your dress bothering you, baby?â
You nod, heat creeping up your neck when Will lifts the hem of it over your head. Now clad in your bra and cotton panties, you feel open and exposed. But since itâs Hannibal and Will, you feel safer than youâve ever been.
âCome here,â Will says, and you crawl over to the place in between his spread thighs as he leans against your headboard. Hannibal follows in quiet suit, moving to Willâs side and holding your hand in his much larger one. Willâs hands play with your hair as you think back to something youâd been wanting to ask the two for a while.
âCan one of you use your belt on me?â
The soft scrape against your scalp stops at the question.
âWhat?â
âI mean,â you mumble, cheeks flaring. âI was watching a video.. ân.. the guy, heââ
âYouâve been watching naughty videos?â Hannibal inquires. You shake your head, wide doe eyes flashing.
âNo!â You reply, too quickly. âNo, of course not.â
âHmm,â the man shifts, gripping the soft skin of your jaw gently with his hand. Looking into your eyes, he can see the deceit in them. âYou have, havenât you? You know what we say about those videos, darling. Theyâre bad for you,â he looks back to the other man in the room. âMaybe we will have to spank her after all. Donât you think, Will?â
âPlay nice, Hannibal,â Will warns, though his mouth pulls into a small, amused smirk. âSheâs sensitive. Probably doesnât even know what sheâs asking for.â
âI do.â you whine, pawing at the sleeve of Hannibalâs suit. He chuckles, thumb rubbing gently over your wrist.
âCome here then, little one,â Hannibal coos. âOver my knee.â
Your eyes widen, pouty lips dropping open in awe.
âNow?â You squeak.
Will rolls his eyes, patting you softly on the arm.
âYou heard him, Bunny. Go on.â
Getting on your hands and knees, panty clad ass now revealing the puff ball bunny tail on the back of the fabric, the two of them think youâre the cutest little thing theyâve ever seen. You hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone, and watch as Will hands over his belt to Hannibal. Itâs your favorite one, plain black but with a belt buckle that has your initials imprinted. Will wears it oftenâ heâs not one to have flashy accessories, but since it was a gift from you he cherishes it dearly.
Since Will is on Hannibalâs left side, you decide to position yourself with your face directed towards him. This leads to your arms and face being smooshed against Willâs thighs, and he gently rubs your head with his hands. Hannibal hums when your ass lifts up for him, bunny tail flickering as you move your hips to get his attention.
âWe should keep these on, donât you think?â He says, fingers grazing over the bunny tail. âToo precious to pull them down, lover.â
You nod shyly, letting out a puff of air when Willâs fingers begin fumbling with the hooks on your bra. He advises you to slide the straps off your shoulders when he undoes them, and you awkwardly shuffle them off. Willâs hands move around your back to grope one of your breasts. The feeling of cold leather against your backside makes you whimper, and Hannibal positions his hand on the bottom of your thigh.
âMove your hands behind your back,â Hannibal demands. âYou arenât in any position of control. If you want to stop, you know the rules.â
âYes, daddy,â you reply, almost immediately. You move your arms back to link them together, Willâs hands gripping the both of yours tightly to make sure you donât move.
âGood girl,â and then, âYouâre going to count each one I give you. We will stop at ten since this is your first time.â
You nod, as much as you can with your face buried in Willâs lap. You can feel the hardness in his pants, right up against your cheek, and your mouth waters.
Thereâs a comforting rub against your left cheek before Hannibal brings the belt down. It isnât too bad, a slight sting that makes you jump.
âOne.â You say, quietly. Your ass lifts up for more.
âGood,â Hannibal praises, soothing the skin once more. âAre you going to watch those videos again?â
You stay silent, contemplating but also being quiet on purpose. You canât deny that Hannibal getting angry with you makes your panties drenched.
At this, Hannibal slams the belt down onto you once again. A warning. You cry out this time, feeling a burning sensation along your skin.
âDonât make me ask you again,â he says sternly. âAnd donât make me have to break my belt on you, little one.â
âWhat does that mean?â you whine, ditzy little head genuinely confused by such a simple term. You inhale the scent of Willâs pants, and from above you, the brunetteâs hands gently soothe your back.
âTold you, Hanni,â he singsongs. âDoesnât even know what sheâs asking for.â
âIgnoring your interruption,â Hannibal says, annoyed (but not really). He directs his attention back to you. âTell me, little one. Yes or no?â
You bite your lower lip, cheeks flaring as your arousal increases.
âYes.â
Hannibal scoffs.
âYouâre asking for it, arenât you?â
The belt comes down on you again. You jump, tears beginning to pool along your waterline.
âWhat was that?â Hannibal demands harshly. âWas that a yes that I heard?â
âNo!â You say. âNo, daddy, Iâll never ever watch those videos again! I promise, promiseâŠâ
You thrash against the pain, and Hannibalâs palms rub the sore skin.
âAlright,â he replies. âbut Iâm adding five more. Naughty girls who donât listen get punished.â
âHannibal,â Will warns. âSheâs fragile.â
âSheâs a brat, is what she is, Will. Stop defending her,â Hannibalâs hands wrap around your hair, pulling your teary eyed face up and craning your neck. âNow count. Starting from three.â
The belt comes down again, and your hands ache, along with your bottom.
âT-Three.â You say. The belt comes down on you again, and again. You count to five.
âYou really need to be harder on her,â Hannibal says to Will, whoâs subtly grinding against your face as he watches you writhe below him. âShe needs to learn that her actions have consequences.â
âI know,â Will sighs, then gently taps the tip of your nose, and smiles softly. âBut look at how precious she is.â
Hannibal rolls his eyes, bringing out the sixth then seventh hit. You can already feel the blooming of bruises by the time you hit number ten, and your aching pussy grinds down into Hannibalâs thigh. He seems to allow this, and by the twelfth hit, heâs teasing you about it.
âIs this arousing you, lover?â He asks, amused. âYou only have three more to go. You better enjoy it.â
âMm, she is,â Will cuts in, reaching down between your legs to feel your soaked panties. âLittle pussy is so wet,â and then, âYou ruined your panties, pup.â
Mewling, you allow another smack to come down onto your ass.
âT-Thirteen,â you whimper out. âCould.. could you buy me some new panties, Will?â
Another smack. Another number. Will tilts his head, staring at your panty clad ass.
âMm,â he replies. âI donât know, Hannibal. What do you think?â His fingers grasp the puff ball tail and tug it up. This makes your panties ride up in between your folds, and you gasp, humiliated. âI think baby blue would really suit her.â
âThat, or lilac,â the eldest man replies. âWeâll get you a new set, little one. But only because it benefits us as much as it benefits you.â
You smile, giddy with excitement to take another shopping trip. Hannibal rubs your ass again, and Will kisses you on the head.
âOne more for us, alright?â
You nod, perky ass throbbing with heat. Hannibal slams the belt down, and this time you let out a sob. It was the harshest hit, one sure to leave a welt or two. Hannibal coos when he sees your look of pain, throwing the belt to the side and gently massaging you.
âShhh. Itâs alright. Come here, darling.â
You maneuver your body to slide in between Hannibalâs legs, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrap around your smaller form, and he kisses your hair, allowing you to bury your face into his shoulder. You let out a few more stray tears while he and Will both soothe the ache on your bottom.
âYou know we only do this because we have to.â Hannibal murmurs.
âI know, daddy.â
âActions have consequences, and you asked for this sort of punishment. So we decided to give it to you,â he explains, and pulls away to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. âDid you enjoy it?â
You nod, a small smile grazing your lips.
âI did. I enjoyed it a lot.â
âGood,â he replies. âAnd since youâve taken your punishment so well, Iâm giving you the opportunity to ask for something. Whatever you want, you can have it.â
Your eyes brighten.
âAnything?â
âAnything.â
You lick your lips, contemplating your options with excitement.
âHmm,â you say, and then finally come to your decision. You look over to your second boyfriend, who seems to be watching you with an almost love struck gaze. âI want Will⊠want his mouth. Please?â
Will licks his lips at the statement. Oral is one of his favorite things to give.
âVery well,â Hannibal says, then gestures for Will. âShe can lay in between my legs. You lay between hers.â
Will nods, and you happily turn around and begin sliding off your panties. Spreading your legs, you look up at Will with doe eyes as he approaches you. His lips touch yours, sliding easily against the expanse of your mouth. When he pulls away, the scent of your arousal overtakes his senses. He groans, moving down in between your legs.
Hannibalâs big arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping you still. Will flawlessly licks a stripe up your slit, making you whimper and hold onto Hannibal for dear life as he begins to eat you like a man starved. His mouth works wonders against your tiny hole and aching clit as he groans into your cunt, drinking your sweet juices like itâs nectar of the Gods.
âHow does she taste?â Hannibal asks, even though he already knows the answer. He loves to go down on you just as much as the other man.
Will pulls away, chin dripping and hair disheveled.
âSo fuckinâ sweet,â he gasps out, nosing at your folds. His thumbs spread them apart, exposing your hole thatâs coated in creamy slick. âCutest fuckinâ cunt Iâve ever seen.â
You clench, letting him see the opening and closing of your hole. You want him to stick his tongue back inside.
You donât have to wait long for that, because a mere second later Hannibalâs big hand splays across the back of Willâs head and pushes him back down. Will lets out a moan at this, allowing Hannibal to guide his head up and down and every which way that brings you closer and closer to your peak. Hannibal smirks, watching the way you writhe under his tongue and watch Will with hungry, lidded eyes.
âHeâs beautiful, isnât he?â He says, and you can feel his hardness pressing against your back.
Drool seeps down your chin as you nod.
âMhm..â you whine out. Your hands go to the boyâs hair, and he whimpers when you tug on the strands.
âHe likes when you do that,â Hannibal observes, his tone low. He kisses the shell of your ear. âDo it again.â
You comply, watching the way Willâs hips grind down into the mattress when it happens and the way Hannibal lets out a heavy breath. Willâs mouth works harder, bringing your clit in between his lips and lightly sucking. You gasp out his name, hips moving against him in tandem.
âWill, Daddy.. âm so close..â
âClose, yes?â Hannibal taunts, and his grip around your throat tightens. His biceps practically squeeze your neck as you near closer and closer to your high, your throat gasping for breath. When your orgasm overtakes you, Hannibal loosens his grip, but not quite. You let out a raw, pleasure filled moan when you cum, Will working you through until the point of overstimulation, your legs shaking and your sock clad feet pushing on his shoulders. He chuckles when he pulls away, a pleased grin forming as he wipes his slick coated mouth on the back of his wrist. And boy, is it a sight. He licks up the remaining remnants of your arousal with his tongue, hands splaying on either side of you and Hannibalâs legs so he can move up and kiss you filthily on the mouth. Hannibal is next, a tender peck that makes the cock against your lower back twitch. It has him licking his lips when Will pulls away, his lashes fluttering as he sighs in content. He presses a kiss to your mouth, too, and relaxes even further.
Itâs only a mere moment of rest before you can feel that familiar throb again, and the sight of your two boys bulging through their pants makes you drool. You spread your legs, overstimulated pussy on full display.
Will, who had been laying at the foot of the bed in front of the both of you, watches with hunger. You lean away from Hannibal, instead turning yourself on your knees and presenting yourself to Will, whoâs already positioning himself behind you eagerly. Hannibal, the most patient out of all three of you, no doubt, finally takes his aching cock out of his pants and wraps a hand around himself at the scene. You hear the rustling of Willâs fly being undone, then his length is pressed against your ass and wet, oh so wet, even when he slides it in between your folds and sheathes himself inside your little hole with one swift movement. Your mouth drops open at the sensation of being filled, your hands finding purchase on Hannibalâs thick thighs in front of you. His cock is hitting his stomach, red and leaking drops of precum down the tip, and you watch as Hannibal rubs it up and down with his hand. You look up at him pleadingly as Will begins to pound you into the mattress.
âYou want daddyâs cock in your mouth, is that it?â Hannibal teases, and you nod. He sighs, directing the tip of his cock towards you. âOpen wide, sweet girl.â
You happily obey, tongue lolling out to lick at his tip, his stringy precum sticking to your bottom lip and the head of his cock, tasting absolutely divine. Willâs hands roam over your ass as his cock bullies your gummy walls.
âMm, Hanni got you good, didnât he, baby?â He says, examining the marks. âGonna have to put some lotion on that later.â
The use of the nickname in Willâs mouth is a mockery of your own. You nod, however, pouting.
âMhm. But Daddy knows whatâs best for me.â
âThatâs right,â Hannibal grunts out, when you take him fully down your throat. âDumb little girls like you canât think for themselves. Thatâs why you need Will and I to take care of you,â and then, âGod, darling, your mouth is just perfect.â
You hum, choking on him. Willâs fingers bruise your hips now, his balls slapping against your ass with every harsh thrust. Your pussy quakes around him, clamping down on his length. His breath is warm against your ear as he pushes in and out of you.
âFuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby..â as he watches your ass bounce back against him.
âLook at that tight little pussy, practically choking my dick.â as he spreads your cheeks apart, watching the way you take him.
âHannibalâs cock tastes good, doesnât it?â As you come up for air and gasp, drool soaking your neck and chin.
You can feel when he gets close by the way his hips stutter, and with a lewd whine hes babbling endlessly.
âIâm gonna cum,â he says. âGonna cum in this slut pussyâ god, squeeze me just like that.â
âPlease,â you whimper endlessly, and you can hear Hannibal let out a breathy chuckle.
âShe wants it. She wants you to cum in her cunt,â his voice drops an octave as he watches the boy. âCome on. I need something to lubricate her more once I get my turn, donât I?â
âOhââ
Willâs eyes roll back, his body tensing up as he finally releases inside her. She clenches down on him, milking him for all heâs worth as he shoots rope after rope deep inside her gaping pussy. Hannibalâs fingers nestle into the boyâs hair as he rides out his orgasm, gently twirling the soft locks in between his fingers. You watch with your mouth turned into an o, burying yourself deeper against Hannibalâs chest in retaliation.
âThere you go,â Hannibal coos when Will sighs against your chest, spent. âGood boy.â
âTease,â Will mumbles back to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. His eyes look up at you and he smiles. âAre you okay?â
You giggle, nodding your head.
âMore than okay.â
He looks down at the mess between your thighs as he pulls out, grunting. A trail of his spend pools out of you and onto the sheets.
His fingers begin to move up to your drenched clitâ you need release to, after all, and Will is never a selfish loverâbut before he can, Hannibalâs hand grabs his wrist.
âNo,â he utters. âLet me, once Iâm inside her.â
âLike I said,â Will grumbles, moving out from between your legs to settle back against the headboard. âTease.â
Hannibal rolls his eyes, guiding you to turn around and face him. You bite your lower lip at the feeling of Willâs cum trailing down your thighs. Hannibal undoes his belt, pulling down his zipper so his pants are open and his briefs are exposed.
âTake me out, darling.â
She reaches into the waistband of his underwear, pulling his length out and giving it a few languid strokes. Will watches, his spent cock twitching against his stomach. He ignores it, instead deciding to move to your side and press a kiss to your heated cheek. His hand provides a comforting pressure to the back of your head as he settles it in your hair. Hannibal tilts his head, grabbing the back of your thighs and pulling you into his lap.
âPut my cock inside you,â he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck. âBe a good girl.â
Your lashes flutter at the vulgar term spilling from the usually polite manâs lips. Willâs hands scrape against your scalp and your brain is fuzzy with how good it all feels. Grabbing Hannibalâs length in your hand, you position your dripping cunt over the tip of his cock.
Sinking down makes your brows furrow. Hannibal isnât as big as Will, but that isnât saying much. The man still has a considerable size, and his girth stretches your gummy walls exceptionally. You whimper, settling down to the very base of his cock. Hannibalâs head tilts back and hits the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut to get used to the sensation of you wrapped around him. His big hands splay across your hips and Will nuzzles your throat affectionately.
âDaddy.â you whine, your little pussy beginning to rock onto Hannibal.
âYes?â
âFuck me, please?â
He smiles, pulling you further against him so he can brace his feet underneath you. His cock gives a few shallow thrusts, getting used to your heat, before moving into more dangerous territory. It isnât long before heâs jackhammering into you, your head tilted back by Willâs big hands. He demands you open your mouth, and you do. A glob of spit lands on your tongue, which you swallow greedily. Hannibal groans as he watches the scene.
âFilthy little things,â he mutters, pulling you into a kiss. You both share Willâs saliva on your intertwining tongues.
Your thighs shake as Hannibalâs cock and balls leak with Willâs cum. The sound is utterly sinfulâ the gushing sounds of his cock pummeling your filled pussy, his balls slapping against your ass, the sobs tearing through your throat. Tears stream down your cheeks and youâre sobbing.
Hannibalâs fingers reach down to your clit, deftly rubbing against the swollen nub exactly the way you like. It isnât long before you reach your peak, your pussy clenching down as a string of filthy words makes its way out of your throat, burying your face in Hannibalâs white button down and staining it with salty tears. Will is an absolute sweetheart, guiding your hips with his hands to help you, cooing little sweet sayings in your ear. He cakes your throat in pretty red marks.
Hannibal draws closer to his orgasm, small grunts and heavy breaths spilling out of his mouth. It isnât long before he empties inside you, filling you up with a second load of sticky, white cum. He pulls your limp body off of his length, your pussy making a gushing sound as both of your boyfriendâs dribble out of you. The two men sigh when they see it, their cocks both twitching at the sight.
But all three of you have had enough for the dayâ or at least for the next few hours. Hannibal disappears out of the room for a moment to bring back a glass of water and lotion. He holds the water to your lips and sweetly coos, âyouâve been such an obedient girl. Drink, okay?â
You do, of course. You drink the whole damn glass.
After going into the bathroom to pee and wipe your cum covered thighs, Hannibal lotions your sore bottom with gentle hands. After this you finally crawl back into bed, moving onto your stomach and hugging your pillow tightly. Will chuckles.
âYou donât want a bubble bath?â He asks, because thatâs usually what you request. But you just shake your head, your eyes fluttering shut. Not asleep, but almost. Will nods his head. âLater then, sweet girl.â
The boy crawls to your side, wrapping his big arm around you and pulling you to his side. Hannibal soon joins, his tie loosened and jacket off, pants unbuttoned. Itâs rare to see him in such a messy state, relaxed. Only you and Will can help him unwind like this.
He lays on his back, and you lay your head on his chest, inhaling his strong, expensive cologne. Beside you, you can smell the aftershave that Will wearsâ Hannibal teases him about it, but youâre quite fond of it. It smells like home.
They smell like home.
You smile sleepily, watching with barely open eyes as Hannibal and Willâs hands connect over you. As you fall into a peaceful sleep, the two men on either side of you stay wide awake.
After a moment, Will chuckles.
âSo Iâm assuming weâll be using my belt more often?â
âGuaranteed,â hannibal confirms, watching you drool onto his shirt in your sleep. He never mentions it to you because he doesnât want you to be embarrassed. âPerhaps we can use it on you next time, Willâ
The younger man scoffs, his cheeks flaring as he buries his face into your hair.
âShut up, Hanni.â
:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz
#bunny writes#Hannibal#Hannibal Lecter#will Graham#Hannibal Lecter x reader#will Graham x reader#Hannibal Lecter x fem! reader#will Graham x fem! reader#Hannibal Lecter smut#will Graham smut#Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham#Will Graham x reader x Hannibal Lecter#hannigram x reader#Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham#Hannigram#Hannibal nbc#Hannibal series#Hugh dancy#mads mikkelsen#Hannibal Lecter fanfic#will Graham fanfic
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The Alchemy (j.m)
Request: @mrslestappen âMay I request ( shy!Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank ) pleaseeeeee, where she has been friends with the boys just like Kie, (Kie, her and Sarah were the trio of friends) and after they reconciled she is super happy because she has her two best friends back. And let's just say JJ has a soft spot for her, even though she's a kook he's always taken care of her. And they have matching necklaces (the shark tooth one, let's just say that when he got his he also created hers and they have always had matching necklaces) + kind of obsessed with her (in a nice way) and let's say because she's always been with the guys she's never really been in a relationship so imagine the reaction JJ would have if she tells him she wants him to be her first kiss (first kiss is soft, second one is hot/possesive poor JJ will devour her, because only he knows how long he waited) and the rest I'll leave it up to you. (In my head this sounded better sorry)â
Summary: she always was going to pick him, he just needed to show her.
JJ Maybank didn't think he'd ever like a Kook. Hell, he didnât think heâd ever even tolerate one. The Kooks were the people who had everything he and the other Pogues didnât.
They were the rich kids on the other side of the island, the ones with trust funds, yachts, and pristine lives. JJ had seen enough of their type to last a lifetime, and he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual.
Except for her.
Her name was Y/N Y/L/N, and she was the only Kook JJ had ever been able to stomach. In fact, he more than just "stomached" her â he adored her.
He couldn't remember when it started, but he was pretty sure it was around the time he realized girls were more than just annoying distractions during surf sessions.
Somewhere between scraped knees on the beach as kids and sharing late-night bonfire confessions, Y/N had become more than just his friend.
She wasnât like the rest of the Kooks. Y/N might have lived in one of the fanciest houses on Figure Eight, but she didnât act like it. She hung out with JJ, John B, and Pope since they were kids, running wild through the marshes and crashing parties on the Cut.
Her mom used to be close with John Bâs mom before she left, which meant Y/N spent almost as much time in the Chateau as John B himself. She was their bridge between worlds, best friends with Kie and, surprisingly, even got along with Sarah Cameron after their recent reconciliation.
JJ had given her a shark tooth necklace that matched his own back when they were kids, and she had worn it ever since. The necklace was a symbol, a quiet testament to their shared adventures and secrets.
It rested just below her collarbone, a constant reminder that she belonged with the Pogues, even if she didnât entirely fit into their world.
For the most part, JJ was content just having her around. But sometimes, like right now, with the sun setting over the water and Y/N laughing at something John B had said, he couldnât shake the gnawing feeling in his chest that he wanted more. More than just her friendship, more than just stolen glances and the occasional accidental brush of hands.
||
It was one of those hot, sticky Outer Banks afternoons when Y/N came to find him. JJ was at the dock, cleaning up the HMS Pogue, when he saw her walking toward him. She looked like sunshine personified, with her long hair catching the light and her eyes sparkling as if she held the secrets of the universe.
âHey, JJ,â she greeted, her voice light and carefree, but there was something nervous in the way she bit her lip.
âWhatâs up, Princess?â he asked, straightening up and wiping his hands on his jeans.
She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her fingers toying with the shark tooth necklace he had given her. âI, uh, need to talk to you about something.â
JJâs heart sank a little, the teasing grin on his face faltering. Usually, that phrase meant bad news. âWhat did you do this time? Burn down another country club?â
Y/N rolled her eyes but laughed. âNo, JJ, not this time. Itâs⊠itâs about a guy.â
JJ froze. âA guy?â he echoed, feeling like the ground had just shifted beneath him.
âYeah,â she said, her voice softening. âI⊠I got asked out on a date.â
JJâs stomach dropped, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. Heâd always known this day would come eventually, but he wasnât prepared for how much it would hurt. âWho?â he managed to ask, trying to keep his voice steady.
âHis nameâs Trevor. Heâs new in town, just moved here from Wilmington,â she explained, her eyes flicking to JJâs face to gauge his reaction.
He knew the guy â tall, dark hair, probably some rich Kook kid whose family had money to burn. JJ felt the jealousy bubble up, hot and fierce. âAnd whenâs this date supposed to happen?â
âTomorrow night,â Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He couldnât believe what he was hearing. The girl heâd been in love with for years was going on a date with some random guy who had just waltzed into town. âDo you even like this dude?â he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.
âI donât know yet,â she admitted, looking genuinely conflicted. âBut⊠what if he tries to kiss me?â
JJâs jaw clenched. âThen tell him to back off,â he snapped, his temper flaring.
Y/N sighed, her shoulders slumping. âItâs not that simple, JJ. Iâve never⊠Iâve never kissed anyone before.â
The admission hung in the air between them, and JJ felt his heart stutter. Y/N, the girl who could light up a room with just her smile, had never had her first kiss. It was almost unfathomable. He swallowed hard, trying to tamp down the tidal wave of emotions crashing over him.
âY/NâŠâ he began, not sure what to say.
âI know itâs dumb,â she said quickly, looking down at her feet. âBut I donât want to mess it up. What if Iâm terrible at it?â
He wanted to laugh because there was no way in hell sheâd be bad at anything. âAre you seriously asking me for kissing advice?â he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and earnest. âActually⊠I was hoping you could⊠you know⊠be my first kiss.â
JJâs mind went blank. Of all the things he expected to hear, that wasnât one of them. He stared at her, trying to wrap his head around the idea that the girl heâd been crazy about for years was asking him to be her first kiss. But not because she wanted him in that way â no, it was just so she wouldnât screw up with some other guy.
âY/N, are you serious?â he asked, his voice a low rasp.
She nodded, her cheeks turning pink. âI trust you, JJ. I know you wonât make it weird.â
Too late for that, he thought bitterly. But he couldnât say no to her, not when she was looking at him like that. âAlright,â he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. âBut if Iâm gonna be your first kiss, Iâm not gonna half-ass it.â
Her eyes sparkled with gratitude, and she took a step closer to him.
They stood on the dock, the sun casting golden light over the water. JJâs heart was pounding in his chest as Y/N moved even closer, so close he could feel her breath on his skin. He could see the nervous flutter of her eyelashes, the way her lips parted just slightly.
âJust⊠close your eyes, okay?â he whispered, his voice thick with emotions he couldnât quite name.
Y/N nodded, her eyes fluttering shut, her lips trembling ever so slightly. JJ took a deep breath, his hand moving up to gently cup her cheek. His thumb brushed against her skin, and he could feel her shiver under his touch.
Then, with a tenderness he didnât even know he was capable of, JJ leaned in and kissed her.
It was soft, gentle, the kind of kiss that could be over in the blink of an eye if you werenât careful. But for JJ, it felt like the world had stopped. Her lips were warm and soft against his, and he could feel the way her fingers clutched at his shirt, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.
When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard, their eyes locked.
âHow was that?â he asked, his voice barely more than a rasp.
Y/N was staring at him, her eyes wide and dazed. âThat was⊠perfect,â she whispered. But then, as if realizing herself, she shook her head. âBut maybe⊠one more time? Just to make sure Iâve got it?â
JJâs breath hitched. This time, he didnât hold back. He kissed her again, harder, more desperate, like he was trying to pour every unsaid word and unspoken feeling into that kiss. His hands cupped her face, Y/N melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair, and he was lost. He was completely and utterly lost in her.
When they finally broke apart, they were both gasping for air. JJ rested his forehead against hers, his hands still cradling her face. âDonât go on that date, Y/N,â he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.
Y/N looked at him, her eyes searching his. And then she smiled, that beautiful, sunlit smile that he loved so much. âYeah⊠I think I need to cancel that date,â she said softly.
||
It wasnât long before the rest of the Pogues found out. Kie was ecstatic, practically tackling Y/N in a hug when she found out, while John B just grinned knowingly. Pope was the most surprised, but even he seemed happy for them.
âFinally!â Kie exclaimed, throwing her arms around JJ and Y/N âI was wondering how long it would take you two to figure it out.â
JJ just grinned, pulling Y/N close to his side. âBetter late than never, right?â
The group celebrated their newfound relationship with a bonfire at the beach, laughter and music filling the night air. JJ couldnât keep his hands off Y/N, whether it was holding her hand or wrapping an arm around her waist. Heâd spent so long wanting this, and now that he had it, he wasnât letting go.
As the night drew to a close, JJ pulled Y/N aside, away from the others. âIâm glad you picked me,â he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes shining. âI always would have picked you, JJ. I just needed you to show me first.â
He kissed her again, slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that felt like coming home. And for the first time in his life, JJ Maybank felt like he had everything he ever wanted.
The waves crashed around them, the world fading away until it was just the two of them, lost in each other. The Pogues cheered in the background, but JJ didnât hear any of it.
All he could focus on was the girl in his arms, the girl who had always been more than just a Kook, more than just a friend. She was everything.
And she was his.
#imagine#imagines#outer banks#jj maybank#outer banks imagine#john b routledge#kiara carrera#rafe cameron#rudy pankow#sarah cameron#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj obx#obx#obx season 4
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Yandere Animal Town (2) | Only Human
Part 1
You awake from your midday nap to the sounds of shouts from a man and a woman. Sounding like the latter is in distress you immediately run for your bat opening up the door facing the road. To find a billy goat man pulling a cow woman towards your doorstep; similar to their animal counterparts the man is short and wide sporting a dirtied tank top sleek with sweat. The female cow being pulled by tiny horns on her head is bent awkwardly wearing a revealing top with underwear and a jockstrap. Before you need to say anything the billy goat man is gruffing in your direction.
âOh, so this is where the rumored human is. Well, arenât you pretty?â
You donât bother answering that. âWhat are you doing to here and what are you doing to her?â
Your question has him looking at the crying girl and spitefully pulling her closer as her knees buckle to the ground. All the while sheâs crying and pleading incoherently. None of that seems to bother the goat man though as he spits in disgust.
âIâm showing this heifer ainât nobody gonna want her! Dry as the Sahara this cow is she ainât give make me any money for the food she eats.â
For emphasis he throws her to the ground, waiting for her to crawl back to him. When she opens her mouth to continue pleading he kicks the sandy dirt in her face. It makes you sick.Â
âIâll take her.â
They both look up at you in surprise. The billy goat man belts out in laughter as a disgusting smirk spreads on his face.Â
âOh, I see! Looking for another kind of milk, huh? Good luck with that!â He kicks at her again as he turns back to his truck. âEnjoy it Heifer you might actually be of worth for once.â
As he speeds off in his rickety, rusted truck she cries out making a desperate attempt to follow. Tripping over the dirt, barely a couple steps in; scraping her knees in her unconventional wardrobe. She crumples into herself crying with her hoarse voice, you let her go on for awhile before lifting her up and into the house.
You donât know the ethics or the inner workings of farming when it comes to hybrids. Only barely catching the surface of the unregulated and often cruel practices that ensue because itâs a market for hybrids to be typically successful. With this in mind your careful to be gentle to not take it personally when she refuses to speak to you. You canât imagine what sheâs gone through.
âHereâs a towel and some soap and a washcloth. I ran a bath for you.â
â.....â
âIâll come check on you in a bit. Take your time.â
She only wordlessly follows your commands with a sullen look on her face. Even when Titan comes around poking and prodding at the new face, she hardly reacts.Â
âHey, you! Whatâs your problem, huh? Why arenât you smiling, huh? Why are you wearing (Y/n)âs clothes? Itâs not fair!â
âHey Titan give her space sheâs having a rough day!â
âWell when Iâm sad I just go to you. Why canât she do that?â
âSometimes I just donât make everybody happy, Titan. And thatâs okay.â
âThatâs stupid.â
â.....Waaaaaaaaaâ
âTitan!â
âSorry!â
After canceling your dinners with the neighbors for the week much to their displeasure you settle her into a bedroom close to yours. Just in case. It isnât until the next morning that you wake to tears on your face. Sitting above you her bust taking up most of your vision is the cow woman silently crying as she pulls at her teats only for nothing to come out.Â
âIâm useless. I canât even do this for you!â
You spend the day comforting the cow woman whoâs drenching herself in endless tears. With lots of assurance that you ask for nothing from her and talk to her about her âjobâ she finally opens up.
â...Itâs Eudora.â
âEudoraâŠthatâs a beautiful name.â
âIt was what they called my mother beforeâŠheâŠtook over. She never officially bequeath it to meâŠbecause she never got to retire.âÂ
Lots of hugs and praise are what fills your days with Eudora. Breaking the unhealthy practices regarding eating and what she did throughout the day. Instead of letting her lay in bed and stew in her dark thoughts, you invite her to your picnics and follow after Titan as he explores the groves of your property. Without the fear of not producing milk or verbal abuse she finally starts to smile and actually taking your advice.Â
âYou are a queen Eudora, just like the others at that farm.â
âHahaha me? A queen?â
âYes!â
âIs this some city thing you guys call people?â
âKind of but the point is, is that you barely realize how gorgeous and desirable you are just because. Itâs a way to remind you of that.â
â....WowâŠthatâs really sweet, (Y/n)....â
âJust being honestââ
âThatâs not fair if sheâs your queen I wanna be your king!â
âTitan, sheâs not mine. Sheâs nobodyâs but her own.â
âđâ
âGross. Can I still be your king (Y/n)!?â
She really starts to settle in as your roommate, helping you with your growing list of chores. Learning alongside to cook with you as you entertain the neighbors that continue to visit so eagerly. Despite letting herself get pushed to the side when they come around sheâs really come into herself. Taking the clothes youâve given her and styling it into something that works for her. Spending time and your money into her appearance. And if that wasnât great enough she woke up to a curious surprise.Â
âAAAAAhhhh!â
âW-whatâs wrong!?â
âMilk spots!â
âWhat?â
âIâve got milk spots! Iâm leaking!â
Turns out all her body needed was a little TLC and it felt the need to lactate better than sheâs ever had before. Days in the past spent blissfully walking through your fields are spent milling herself into whatever glasses you have. As it continues it gets worse better enough so that she eventually has to call on you to help. Itâs a tad awkward for her to fling the maternity breast pump you bought for her as she demands you do it for her.Â
âE-eudora câmon Iâve never done anything like this Iâm not going toââ
âNO!! I NEED YOU TO DO THIS! Otherwise itâs going to take all day!â
So there goes an hour in the morning to help her release the gallons of milk her happy body produces. Constantly hearing the wanton moans of the cow woman youâre doing such a big favor. When you're finished, you have Tank frantically sniffing you both for some odd reason as he comments about the suspicious noises he was hearing.....from miles away. Eudora doesnât bother clearing up the misunderstanding you just arenât picking up on.
âSo I believe you too were awfully loud this morningâ
âOh, you heard us, did you? Lucky dog, Iâm sure you wish you were in my position.â
âUhm I donât know why Tank would want to do what you were doing.â
Tank is whining. âIt doesnât smell like what I think it was.â
âHa just because you canât smell it doesnât mean it didnât happen.â
âWell if youâre smelling milk then thatâs accurate. Eudora made way more than we can cook with so weâre going to take it to the market today.âÂ
âohâŠmilkâŠ.The kind that comes from-?â
âHer? Yeah. What kind of milk could I be talking about?â
âCome on, (Y/n)! Weâre going to lose daylight talking to him.â
âIâIâwanna come too!â
With all the publicity from the suddenly amazing milk from the odd human thatâs recently moved in floats around. Of course, the sweaty gross billy goat is circling back to your place. Spitting and pointing when you finally come out to the enraged short man. The cow woman and the dog boys on your property at the time are all on guard.
âI want âem back! You cheated me you hairless skank!!!â
âYou canât have her if she doesnât want to go!â
âWhy youââ
âGrrrr!â
âWait (Y/n)...Iâll handle this.â
She agrees to go with him. Kissing you on the cheek as she promises sheâll return by tonight. It feels like youâve failed as she walks into the passenger seat with her now confident strut and proud smile in an outfit she feels comfortable in. It feels like youâve lost that is until that rickety truck pulls up again in the dead of night. Tiffany staying up with you after attempting to put you to sleep and joining you as you run to see if your friend truly had returned.Â
âIâm back~!âÂ
âEudora!âÂ
The hug is your victory and itâs also a little off center.Â
âUh, heels?â
âA gift from the girls back home. Turns out the ownership of the farm was recently called into question and Iâve recently been included in a new business venture. An opening was recently made.âÂ
âDoes this mean youâll be moving in back there?â
Eudora hates how eager Mama Tiffany sounds with her speeding tail.
Eudora delights in the wagging slowing down with her next words
âNo, I just figure Iâll be contributing a bit more to the home. Is that alright (Y/n)?â
âOf course, Iâm so proud of you Eudora!â
Mama Tiff is livid along with her sons as she watches the cow-woman move in with designer bags and start paying to reinforce the fence on your property starting with the flap Titan loves sneaking in through. From then on she too comes with you when you head into town, not afraid to pull down her designer pink glasses to verbally put down anyone still brave enough to talk down to you. But by now it isnât all hateful talks, sheâs still chasing off anyone with mildly too positive intentions.
âLook feline if you donât back off now I might be convinced not to starve your family.â
âYou canât do that!â
âAh, but I can. Would you like to see?â
Sheâs sure she doesnât need the extra help from your puppy neighbors but sheâll take it. If only to keep her nails clean, sheâll stick to her own strengths. Happily pulling you behind your market stalls because she desperately needs to be milked. She only trusts youâher human to do such a thing. No one else in this town is worthy of squeezing the liquid magic she can create than youâ her dear one and only human.
âCome (Y/n) I need you. You are my special humanâthe only human I trust to help me fuel my empire. You wonât refuse me, right?â
Part 3: Here
Taglist: @midnight-nightmares @xrenka @candlesworlds-blog @00hellohello00 @lem-hhn @kawaii-cakes
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere harem#yandere hybrid x reader#yandere hybrid#yandere hybrids x reader#yandere hybrid town x reader#yandere dog hybrid#yandere dog hybrid family#yandere dog#yandere cow#yandere cow hybrid#yandere x gn reader#yandere x gender neutral reader#yandere cow hybrid x reader#female yandere#yandere cow girl hybrid
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BTS As Girl Dads
Ot7 x Reader
Summary: Headcanons about how the members would each handle being girl dads
Warnings: none
A/N: Thanks to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request! This got me soo in my feels, theyâd all be such great dads(I may have gone a lil self indulgent but who cares lol). Obviously, some/most of these could also apply to any kid, regardless of gender, but for the sake of the Hc, weâre focusing on daughters
Masterlist
°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âąÂ°âą
Jin:
Heâs honestly such a girl dad, argue with the wall
I totally see him wholly embracing the title and all the things that are typically considered âgirlyâ, like pink and sparkles and all that
He would indulge every single one of her interests. She likes animals? Theyâre going to the zoo every weekend. She likes music? Heâs signing her up for lessons for whatever instrument sheâs into
I have this mental picture of them sitting on her bed together while heâs reading her bedtime stories, using all these silly voices and wearing one of her princess hats or something bc she insisted he needed for the character and just-đ
Yoongi:
Yoongi would be the softest girl dad ever, like she had him wrapped around her finger from day one. He took one look at her tiny little scrunched up face, that reminded him waay too much of his own expression when heâs annoyed, and he was a goner
I see him just sitting soo patiently while she gives him makeovers, wearing like three different pairs of clip-on earrings at the same time
He would really focus on teaching her to stand up for herself and makes sure she never takes any shit from anyone
He might come off a little stern sometimes, but itâs just because he worries and wants the best for her
Hobi:
Okay, Hobi as a girl dad might be one of my favorite headcanons, bc heâd be soo fucking sweet with them!
The tea party King. Like he shows up dressed in the most ridiculous outfits to make her giggle, and ready to talk imaginary gossip with her and any plushies that are joining themđ€
He would love shopping with/for her, constantly trying to find the coolest outfits or pieces for her, and they would definitely wear matching outfits when she was little(she would be the best dressed toddler ever, lol)
I also see him being quite protective of her at times, being super nervous/worried about her doing things like riding a bike for the first time or on her first days of school
Namjoon:
Omg Namjoon as a girl dad would be soo fucking protective. Like if someone does anything to hurt or upset her, theyâre fucked
I see him loving daddy-daughter days out together, taking her to the park or museums or bookstores, really just wanting to indulge her curiosity and interests
Like Yoongi, he would really work to make sure she knows how to stand up for herself, as well as others
For all of his sternness tho, he would have the biggest soft spot for her, heâs 100% the type to let her have dessert before dinner or something bc she gave him puppy eyes
Jimin:
Omg heâs soo girl dad coded, like itâs not even funny(he literally confirmed that on that ep of âare you sure?â like đ„ș)
He would treat her like a little princess, doting on her at every possible opportunity, buying her toys/clothes/treats, taking her on special outings, etc. If she wants something, he will do whatever he can do give it to her
He would not be able to stand seeing her in any sort of pain. Like even her just having a scraped knee would make him slightly misty-eyed, even tho sheâs not upset/crying about it
I see them having lots of long talks about whateverâs on her mind. He would really strive to be her safe place to ask questions about anything, from school and friends to life and the future
Taehyung:
I see him being an amazing girl dad! He has this amazing, comforting dynamic with the girls that heâs worked with/is friends with, so I can only imagine how supportive he would be with his own daughter
He would be so indulgent in whatever she wanted. Ice cream before bed? Heck yeah, let him grab a spoon too. She wants a new plushie/toy even tho she just got one like yesterday? Well, the new one needs a friend, soo-
But he would still have his more stern/protective moments with her, just moreso in little ways like making sure sheâs always wearing her helmet and elbow/knee pads, brushes her teeth, does her homework, etc
He would play along with all/any of their imaginary games, fully committing to the role(and adding waay too many silly death/fainting scenes bc they make her laugh)
Jungkook:
Junkook would absolutely adore a daughter. Like she would be his little princess and anyone/anything that upsets her will have to answer to him.
On the flip side of that protectiveness tho, he is so unbelievably gentle with her. As an infant, he handled her like she was made of glass, and as she grows up, he would always speak to her in a softer tone than he uses for anyone elseÂ
(Also dodonât think about him singing her to sleep every night as an infant. Getting up with her in the middle of the night and walking her around the house, singing to her softly till she drifts back off to sleep in his arms)
He would love teaching her things and playing games with her(I totally picture him teaching her boxing in tiny and falling over all dramatic when she lands a hit, lol)
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @universal-travel-er @bo0ghol @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
#bts x reader#bts x y/n#bts reactions#bts reaction#bts requests#bts headcanons#bts scenarios#seokjin x reader#seokjin x y/n#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x reader#hoseok x y/n#hoseok x reader#namjoon x y/n#namjoon x reader#jimin x y/n#jimin x reader#taehyung x y/n#taehyung x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#7ndipity
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Please. Alastor x single mom?
Oh my god and imagine how heâd give her the best Motherâs Day ever after years of just her waking up to a normal day aside from her baby giving her a macaroni necklace or a card and now sheâs waking up to a breakfast in bed and a day to relax Iâm not getting emotional you are
Okay, but y'all are giving me baby fever fr with these asks
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
â
ïžRomantic
âïžPlatonic
TW: F L U F F, A little bit of sex towards the end but a very small amount
Description: âïžâŹïž
Whether or not you were a mother when you were alive, you certainly were one now. You took in and protected as many children sinners you could because nobody else would
You took care of toddlers all the way up to teenagers, it was an exhausting and thankless job but you don't think you could ever quit
Not when one of your kids comes crying to you because they scraped their knee, or they had their first heartbreak, or they had a nightmare
How any of them ended up down here was baffling to you, especially the youngest ones
You protected your family fiercely and have even gone toe to toe with overlords to keep your kids safe, earning you a reputation for being a mama bear
You loved being their mother and wouldn't give it up for anything, no matter your own sins
So when one of your little ones goes missing, you're panicking and searching everywhere for her. You spend all day trying to find her and asking anybody if they've seen her
After hours of searching, one of your teenagers calls you, telling you they found her but that you need to come home immediately. You don't need to hear anything more
When you get home, you find your little girl sitting in the lap of Charlie Morningstar, Hell's Princess. All your kids are gathered around her while she tells them about her hotel
Something you had been trying not to let them know about because you didn't want to get their hopes up only to be heartbroken. It was cruel
Not to mention the shady characters that probably stay there.
So imagine your irritation when all your children suddenly swarm you and start begging to stay at the hotel. Each one excited and hopeful to learn how to go to heaven
You can't tell them no so you try to dissuade them but they insist on going so you allow it. It's very reluctant agreement though.
You try to keep all your children close to you once you enter the hotel and see the others. Let's see, an angelic exorcist, a p0rnstar, a tiny murderous maid, a drunk bartender and one of the most deadly overlords around
You were unimpressed, and it showed as you held your kids a little tighter, not even hearing Charlie excitedly telling you about all the amenities
You have a difficult time letting your kids sleep so far away from you, all of them excited to get their own rooms. You often check on them throughout the night
More than once, Alastor has caught you peeking into their bedrooms to make sure they're still safe in their beds
You startle when you hear his amused laughter, nearly bumping right into his chest as you close the door behind you
"Nobody is going to eat them while they're asleep, you know."
You can't help but feel defensive, crossing your arms and giving Alastor a withering look
"That's not funny coming from you."
His smile only gets wider, gripping your chin and tilting your head up as he leans in close
"Darling, it's even funnier because it's coming from me!"
You insist on making sure your children eat a good diet, often making it yourself because you don't trust anybody else to do it. That and some of your little ones can be picky eaters
Often, Alastor stops by the kitchen to watch you, curious about what you're making and how much of it you plan to make
"My my~ That smells absolutely delicious, my dear~! What are you making?"
You're guarded, setting down the plates on the table a little harder than you meant to
"It's just an old family recipe, nothing special."
So imagine your weary surprise when he starts to help you cook, helping with the food preparation and even setting the table. You start to get used to his help, relaxing a little more each time you two stand hip to hip, cooking
He's even taken to sitting down to meals with you and your family, an amused smile on his face as he watches all of you interact. Eventually, he joins in the conversations, and your youngest ones get comfortable enough to even eat off his plate
"Don't take food from his plate! That's rude..!"
"It's quite alright, my dear~ I find it endearing~"
He's even in your corner when your picky eaters rise up and try to say they don't like what you made. Pushing their plates away and pouting
"Mom, I don't like it..."
You can't help but sigh and roll your eyes, exasperated and annoyed that you have to go through this again
"Yes you do, you've eaten this before and you gobbled it up... Just try it, baby."
They whine and try to refuse when Alastor speaks up, pushing their plate back towards them gently
"Now, now, your mother worked hard on this meal... We don't want her good efforts to go to waste, do we?"
"No..."
Your child whines but reluctantly takes their fork and begins eating, Alastor giving you a triumphant grin as he sits back down
You take a bite of your own food to hide the fond smile that wants to creep up onto your face
The hardest, scariest moment at the hotel for you was when you and one of your older girls got into an argument in front of Alastor
It all started over a party and a boy, you wouldn't let her go and in typical teenage fashion, she started to fight with you. The more you held your ground and said no, the worse it got
"Young lady, that is not a good environment for you! It is a disgusting den of perverts, drugs and uninhibited violence!"
You tried to stay calm and reason with her, but her emotions were running too high
"We're in HELL! There's no place here that's good for any of us! Why do you have to be such a bitch!?"
Before you can even open your mouth to reply, Alastor places a hand on her shoulder, his smile twitching and the sound of static buzzing
Your heart drops as you fear he's going to hurt her, instinctively moving forward to stop him
"Alastor-"
"Dear one, it's bad manners to talk to your mother like that. She only worries for you and wants to keep you safe. I suggest you go to your room and calm down, then come back to apologize to her. Hm~?"
He pats her head and nudges her to go to her room, turning to you and tilting his head. She looks embarrassed and a little ashamed, seemingly taking Alastor's words to heart
"Ah, teenagers~ Always so temperamental even when dead~"
You do your best to ignore the sudden heat on your cheeks, the way Alastor handled the situation having you feel some type of way
If Alastor were to have a type...he would have to say he's definitely drawn to the motherly type, it's a weakness of his
So when Charlie drags you and your gaggle of children to the hotel, Alastor has an inkling of the kind of trouble he's in for the moment he sees you
He's seen how you've come running out of your room in the dead of night because you heard one of your little ones crying from a nightmare. How you spend the rest of your night awake and rocking them back to sleep
Alastor has watched you run yourself ragged trying to get all of your children ready to go out for the day, juggling your teenagers yelling at you because they can't find their clothes and your little ones tugging on your clothes for your attention
He's noticed how you'll shield your family from sinners at least twice your size without fear. Not even he himself was an exception from your intense protectiveness
In the earlier days of your family moving in, Alastor had picked up one of your younger kids to stop them from touching something and you had panicked
He'll never forget how you had tore your kid away from him and held them tight, giving Alastor a intense look as you poked his chest
"Never do that again."
He had tried to brush it off and charm you with a smile, acting unbothered
"Darling, your family is in no danger here. I can assure you-"
"Bullshit. There's no such thing as a safe place or someone you can trust, not here."
You had stormed off after that and Alastor was left with a warm feeling building in his chest that has yet to leave
Your soft smile whenever one of your kids snuggled with you, the way you sighed and put your hands on your hips when they argued with you. Your voice when you sang your littlest ones to sleep
It was all so addicting for him, he found himself wanting to be a part of your family and the love within it
Without even realizing it, Alastor had begun filling the role of the father in your family, ending up getting attached to each of your kids
He learned what made them happy, what made them sad or scared, which ones needed hugs and which ones preferred words
Both you and Alastor began to work together as a team, and most people outside of the hotel just assumed you two were a married couple. A married couple with a small army of kids
You stop one child from bumping into someone, and Alastor scoops up the other two before they can do the same
Alastor will cook dinner and you'll clean up the mess while you both sneak the dessert that the kids don't know you have
All of you will hang out together in the lobby of the hotel, Alastor humming to himself and pretending to nap while your girls play with his hair and paint his claws
Your boys will all be cuddled up around you while you read a story to them, both of you enjoying the domestic bliss
There's a building tension between you and Alastor that everyone can sense, even the kids but nobody comments on it
Except Angel but he doesn't dare bring it up around you two
Your kids start pulling little stunts to get you two to end up together, offering to make you both dinner only for it to be classically romantic with candles, flowers and your children pretending to be waiters
Or asking embarrassing questions in front of the two of you, like if Alastor thought you looked pretty or if you liked Alastor's voice
Or wanting both of you to tuck them and give them goodnight kisses at the same time
The worst part is...it was totally working
The tipping point came when one of your boys woke up crying in the middle of the night, both you and Alastor barging into the bedroom
He was inconsolable, having obviously had a nightmare and repeating that he didn't belong here. He only quieted down once you and Alastor wrapped your arms around him
The three of you were cuddled up on a bed that was far too small for all of you, you couldn't contain your blush once you realized this
So Alastor offered up his room for the night, and the three of you snuggled together in his bed, Alastor's arms wrapping around you
You both woke up with more kids in the bed than you remember going to sleep with, your little boy having climbed onto one of his sisters instead
Leaving you tucked under Alastor's chin with your face in his neck, Alastor's strong arms around your waist and his face buried in your hair
The two of you had pulled away out of embarrassment, making eye contact before suddenly melting back together, soft smiles on your faces
"Alastor..?"
"Hm~?"
"I really want to kiss you right now..."
You two are unofficially, officially a couple after that. Grossing out your children by kissing each other, saying sappy things, just embarrassing them with how in love you are
It's so painfully domestic, but Alastor wouldn't give it up for anything. Not when the youngest ones grab his legs and try to hold him down, not when the teenagers get snarky with him. Not when you two bicker over what's best for the family
Even the more embarrassing moments, like when you two are in bed together, Alastor chasing his release as you lock your legs around him and dig your nails into his back
He's nearly about to spill inside you when there's a tentative knock on the door, making the two of you freeze and whip your heads towards the sound
"Papa..? Mama? I keep hearing scary noises, and I can't sleep..."
It's an awkward untangling of limbs and soft cursing before you two start laughing at how absurd it is
Or the softer moments when he looks into the bedroom to see you singing your kids to sleep, feeling himself grow relaxed and sleepy at the sound of it
His life has nearly completely changed since meeting you and your family, but he wouldn't change anything even if he could
Rosie often teases him about how much he's softened up for his family. It's all good-natured, though, she just as attached to them as he is
"So Alastor~ How's that little family of yours doing? Did your girls finally stop fighting over that boy?"
"They're lovely as always, but unfortunately, that boy seems to have been scared off."
"Such a shame~"
"Quite~"
Honestly, the only thing Alastor needs now is to find you a ring
@valerie-is-in-the-cupboard I know we talked about you writing a lil' something about this, so I tried to twist it up because I didn't want to inadvertently take any ideas you had!
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin x reader#hazbin x reader
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Part 11!!
Sorry this took so long (and that itâs a bit short) I have trouble with scene switching sometimes, and it makes me cut up the story into pieces.
No Content Warnings For This Chapter
Somewhere between your pride and the numbing passage of time lies the way you really feel about the 141. It's undeniable that you're still deeply hurt by what transpired; a chronic ache like a mended bone, only noticeable in the cold, or when you sleep on it wrong. For them, it was easy to reach inside your chest to extract your heart, sternum soft and malleable. It was harder with SpecGru, the bone grew back harder, thicker. You had to crack your ribs open and scraped the chambers on bone shards, but at least they stopped the bleeding.
You donât miss the 141, not really. It wasnât just those final, brutal days spent lying alone in a hospital bed that filled those transfer papers. The culprit had been the time that isolation had afforded, to think more deeply, to analyze your position through a less-optimistic lense. Those last conversations had just been your signature on the line.
You donât blame the gun for firing, you blame whoever pulled the trigger.
Bitterness seeps onto your tongue sometimes. Masochistically, you let it linger. It has no purpose but to raise your hackles and press on that knitted spot until it bruises. Itâs your pride, thatâs all, lamenting the blood you chose to spill in sacrifice only to have it wasted.
The present is a much sweeter wash for the taste of the past, sticking to your lips and curling your tongue. Honey-balm for resentment, syrup cutting through salt. You focus on the flavor as you stride into the briefing room.
Your captain is already there, a sly smirk for the flush to your faces as Nova follows you in. Heâs speaking to Laswell, arms crossed but shoulders relaxed.
Nikto is leaned up against the wall, a shadow without anyone to cast it. He comes to you and Nova as you take seats, angled to face the only exit. He knee presses to yours as you settle in, eyes flicking around.
Nostalgia is a complicated tide rising and ebbing around your ankles. Memories of your time with the 141 in this very room, planning and strategizing, learning where to support your teammates and where they would support you. Jokes made with Soap and Gaz, loaded glances between you and Ghost, a reassuring nod or shoulder squeeze from Price.
That, you think, is where the ache is. Not in missing those moments; you have them with SpecGru now, and without that lingering sense that you donât quite belong. But in those rose-tinted relationships youâll never get back (and know you donât really want again.)
It was never as good as it is with your team now; they were still the team you thought you belonged with. Youâve learned better since but that doesnât appease the naive 141 operative that put everything into those four.
Your captain has taken the seat you used to have, and he belongs there, a buffer between his team and theirs. You press your thumb to one of the bruises he left on your thigh and settle in.
âSunshine,â Keegan greets, brushing his knuckles over Novaâs cheek. âSweets.â
You tilt your chin welcomingly as he nuzzles his nose against your temple, fabric of his mask itching along your jaw.
âSmell good,â he rumbles, low. Just for you and Nova.
âThatâs what happens when you shower,â you answer, playing dismissive.
âYou should try it sometime,â Nova adds, smirking.
âOnly if you join me,â Keegan coos, drawing a spare chair up close. For as tough and distant as he is towards others, heâs long opened his ribs for you and the rest of SpecGru to crawl inside. You admire it now for as much as you distrusted it then.
âToo late,â you say, sharing a look with Nova, âalready helped her wash up for the day.â
She whacks you in the knee, startling a laugh out of you. Keegan scoffs, throwing an arm across the back of your chair.
âNothinâ says we canât take another,â he drawls, âif I get you dirty enough.â
Beside you, Nikto snorts. Keegan shoots him a teasing look, arching his eyebrows invitingly. The captain is watching, as always, pride and affection smoldering in coal-dark eyes.
And youâre right where youâre meant to be. With them, always with them.
At the front of the room, Laswell politely clears her throat. All eyes turn to her - though you only just notice that the 141 has filed in, perched on the other end of the briefing table, a collective storm cloud.
Laswell kicks off the meeting with a recap of the ongoing mission - basics that all of you read in the docket before shipping out. Itâs a big operation, delicate due to hostages. The 141 needed manpower with comparable skills; enter SpecGru.
âOne of our best specialists has patched in to explain the parameters in greater detail.â
The big screen at the front of the room lights up. A familiar puff of curly blond hair and green eyes blink into view.
âGooooood morninâ! Or is it evening? Either way, I hope itâs good.â
Your captain lets out a long breath, trying (and mostly failing) to hide his amusement.
âThis is Duke,â Laswell says for the 141âs benefit. âSheâs one of our best technicians. I put her on this assignment when I reached out to SoecGru.â
âAnd you should be glad she did!â Duke chimes in. Her tongue flashes blue as she speaks, and itâs not just the light of the computers surrounding her. Her love of raspberry candies is practically a calling card. âTheyâre actually pretty decent at keeping communications to a minimum, but porn bots always get âem.â
The captain sighs, running a hand down his face. Nova pats his arm sympathetically. Poor guy.
âAnyway! I have their plans for the hostages all drawn up - check this out.â
One loud click of her mouse and the screen flicks to a map with colored circles and wiggly lines. Locations and routes, with little time stamps above each.
âThey plan on taking the hostages in waves. If one transport goes down going in or out, they can cut their losses. Lucky for us, theyâre super dumb, so Iâve found a 12 minute window where all their teams are out in the open.â
Another image, the transport routes now sporting little icons of angry faces with their tongues sticking out. They're all at various distances along their colored paths, but none of them have made it to whatever the destination is.
âIf theyâre hit all at once, no group will have time to warn the others,â Duke explains. âHostages safe, bad guys caught, we all go home and pet our dogs.â
She babbles through the rest of the plan in that controlled chaos way she has, concise and insightful around a casual tone more fitting a high school presentation. The building where the hostages will be taken, every route, down to the vehicles and guns the terrorists will have.
Eventually, she runs out of pertinent information, there are no questions because sheâs covered just about everything short of the humidity. Her face pops up on screen again, eyes always a bit glassy from staring at screens too long without blinking. âLastly, donât get shot, or Iâm telling ma.â
Your captain huffs, that grin finally cracking across his solemn face.
âDo that ân Iâll tell her you drop f-bombs like itâs your job,â he replies.
Her mouth drops open in outrage. âIt is my job!â
âYeah? How about that stipend, huh? How muchâa that âs going to your candy habit?â
Dukeâs face flushes, but sheâs got that wide smile beamed up to eleven. âYour girlfriend likes me better,â she sing-songs.
He snorts. âWhich one?â
âBoth,â you and Nova answer at the same time.
Her eyes narrow smugly before she signs off with a little finger wave and a âtoodaloo!â
âYour sister, I take it?â Price drawls in the characteristic silence of Dukeâs absence.
Your captain shoots him a sideways look. âWhat, you canât see the resemblance?â he replies, dry as desert.
You cough into your arm to hide your giggles but Nova isnât nearly as polite.
As youâre filing out with the rest of the team, youâre surprised that there arenât calls from your former team. No overtures to justify themselves or half-assed apologies that still somehow make it sound like everything was your fault. Youâre almost tempted to check over your shoulder, but you wonât give them the satisfaction of seeming interested. You just donât trust the sudden silence, even if the captain alluded that thereâs some sort of ceasefire in place. Youâve never known the 141 to bend knee to anyone but their own.
A glance at your captain and heâs noticed it too, satisfaction flicking across his face before he catches your eye. He jerks his head. You follow him back to his room, leaning your shoulder in the doorway as he loosens his belt.
âTalked to Price,â he begins.
You arch your brows. âAnd?â
He blows out a sigh, hands on his hips. âAnd he wants to talk to you. Him and the rest of the team.â
You groan. âAbout what?â
He shrugs. âHell if I know, it wasnât exactly circle time, doll.â
You roll your eyes. Those useless, crypticâŠ
âHey.â
You blink, face going hot when you see the stern look on your captainâs face. Whoops.
âSorry, sir,â you say. âThat wasnât meant to be at you, Iâm just so fucking⊠ugh.â
âLook, I got âem off your back during working hours, but anytime after is outta my hands.â
You puff up, annoyed all over again with the whole situation. It couldnât be enough for them to ostracize you back then, or try to distract you on-duty now, derailing drills. No, they want your free time too.
âIâm not gonna tell you how to handle this, alright? But maybe getting some of this shit off your chest will do you some good. Let âem blow smoke, say whatever you gotta say, and put all this to rest.â
You deflate, giving him a weary scowl that does nothing to deter him from closing the distance. (Not that you wanted it to.)
âIsnât that telling me what to do?â you mumble, letting your forehead thunk against his broad chest.
âNah, if I was tellinâ you what to do, youâd be doinâ it,â he chuckles. âIf you donât want nothinâ to do with âem, you can spend every night in here for all I care. Up to you.â
Youâre only putting up resistance because you know heâs right, itâs just not what you want. Itâs easier and simpler to be pissed off and short-tempered with the 141. Safer, in a way.
But thereâs no getting any safer, in any sense of the word. Worst thing any of them can say is something you already know, or something that isnât true. Youâve got your own team for support regardless.
âI hate when youâre right,â you grump.
He smooths a hand through your hair. âIf that were true, youâd hate me all the time.â
You nip him in retaliation; he tugs a lock of hair for the trouble.
This is home, you think. Your captain. Nova, Nikto, Keegan. Doesnât matter where in the world you are, theyâre your present and your future. Knowing that, the pain and uncertainty of the past are just ghosts. Itâs time to put them to rest like one.
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Masterlist
#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#specgru reader#former 141 reader#nikto cod#nova cod#captain daddy#castle âdaddyâ Alistair#rook âDukeâ Alistair#cod keegan#healthy polyamory
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The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 3 (Lucien's Version)
Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)
AN: I'm not really sure if I like how this turned out, so if you're new here I promise my writing it typically so much better. ALSO there are so many new faces on here! I wanted to say hello and thank you for the love once again! If you liked this fic and you love drama, forbidden love, protective acotar boys, a bit of a slow burn, and political intrigue you would LOVE and I mean LOVE my fic Young Love and Old Money. Iâm still writing it but itâs almost completed! Go check it out you wonât be disappointed!
and of course check out my masterlist
Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesnât have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. Itâs not wrong if both of your mates donât want you right?Â
Warnings:Â smut, so much lucien fluff, happy ending for lucien (for once) :)
Word count:Â 5057
We arrived in the house in silence, the only thing to fill the void was the crackling of the enchanted fire that always sprang to life whenever I walked through the door. My eyes were fixed on the floorboards, studying every grain of wood as I put together what had just happened.Â
I had told Azriel about the bond, and I did it in anger. I had imagined telling him a million different ways over the past 400 years but never did imagine doing it out of spite. I was just so angry with Elain and her insufferable entitlement that had me seeing red. If anyone should act in such a manner, it should be me, I was a princess after all.Â
I was furious with Elain there was no doubt about that, but the voice that kept echoing in my mind was Azrielâs. How he yelled at me. I had known him my whole life and I had never once been afraid of him, until today.Â
As if he was tired of the silence, Lucien brushed his hand under my chin bringing my gaze to his, it wasnât until then that I realized I was crying. I didnât even give him a chance to ask if I was alright before I started blubbering.Â
âLu Iâm so sorry I didnât mean to. She just got under my skin and I-âÂ
âShhhâ he cooed, pulling me into his chest. âItâs okay, I understand. I didnât react much better when Azriel started talking.â he chuckled, no doubt remembering how he preemptively called me his wife, the words had rolled off his tongue so effortlessly it was admirable.Â
âHeâs never raised his voice to me like that. Not ever,â I hiccup into his chest, his scent like apples, spiced berries and woodsmoke.Â
âI shouldâve burned him to a crisp for doing so he has no right to treat you that way,â he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
âItâs alright, now that he knows heâll be entitled to act possessive of me,â I sigh, starting to feel my pulse slow in his arms.Â
âAnd Iâm not granted that same right? To protect you?â Lucien said, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze.Â
âWell, you arenât my mate,â I laugh looking into his eyes.Â
âAnd what if that doesnât matter to me? That we arenât mates? What if I think that the Cauldron made a terrible, horrible mistake by not binding me to you in every way imaginable?â he confesses.Â
I search his face for a hint of that playful gleam I saw earlier. The trickster, the silver tongued fox who might be playing me for a fool. But I didnât find it, for all those fiery eyes bore was sincerity.Â
âWhat do you mean Lu?â I ask earnestly.Â
âExactly what I said, you arenât my mate, butâŠâ he stops as if to consider his words. âBut I still feel like you are in a way, I feel protective of you. In a way I always have, remember when you scraped your knee climbing that cherry blossom tree in the spring court all those years ago?âÂ
I smile remembering the event, I had wanted some cherry blossoms to braid into my hair. âYes I do, I still have the scar.â I laughed.Â
âI know you do, I see it every time I make love to you,â he smiled back. âI remember carrying you to the healers at the spring court from half a mile out. Even then I couldnât stand the thought of you bearing any sort of scar. What Iâm trying to say is that you may not be my mate, but I love you like youâre mine. Because you are, you are mine.â
My breath gets caught in my throat and my eyes go wide at those three little words. The ones I thought I mightâve felt too these past few months.Â
I love you.Â
For a year now things between Lucien and I had been strictly situational, just a means to an end. Then I started noticing the little things, his toothbrush next to mine, his laundry in my hamper, him having his own side of the bed. Things changed, but it wasnât a bad change, which was a new idea for me, as I had always resented change. But not this, this was good.Â
I thought I had felt that emotion with Lucien before. The night that I came home and he had made us both dinner. The time he bought me the second book in a series just because he noticed I was almost done with the first. The week I was sick he nursed my back to health. I thought I felt love each and every one of those times, but I wasnât sure. I always teetered on saying it but never caved. But as I stood here in his arms, watching his eyes light up as he said those words to me, I knew I felt the same.
âI-I love you too Lucien,â I said quietly so only he could hear, even though we were the only two people in the house.Â
He wastes no time bringing his mouth to mine, for so long our kisses had been fervent, needy. Both of us desiring pleasure and the codling that came after it. This kiss was different than all the rest, in it I felt real love. The kind I had only read about in my numerous romance novels. I dreamed of being kissed this way my entire life.Â
I felt strong hands grip my waist hoisting me up. My legs instantly wrapped around his waist as he started bounding up the stairs, his enthusiasm making me giggle.
âBelieve me my love, there is nothing funny about the way Iâm going to ravish you tonight,â he smirked before kicking open the bedroom door.Â
The next day I woke up slowly, not wanting to move from where Lucien had placed me on his chest last night. Both of us took our time to have a steady morning knowing that later in the day there would be chaos. Lucien got up first, always the more responsible of the two of us. When I murmured a sleepy protest he simply chuckled and placed me back in bed, where I snuggled into the warm sheets that smell faintly of him.Â
When I woke for the second time I smelled that delectable scent of pancakes wafting through the small townhouse. The aroma pulled me from the sheets in a sleepy haze as if my body was controlled by some other worldly force. Slipping on my blue nightgown and padding downstairs into the kitchen I found Lucien half clothed and cooking breakfast for the two of us.
âBlueberry pancakes, not chocolate chip,â he assured me, sprinkling fresh blueberries onto a pancake.Â
âYou remembered,â I sighed leaning against the counter watching him intently. When Lucien had first made breakfast for me I was taken aback by his cooking skills, there was no way that this man was the complete package.Â
âHow could I forget?â he laughed, flipping a pancake. âLast time I made chocolate you were on your cycle and you were so befuddled that you yanked the spatula out of my hand and spanked me with it.âÂ
I slid between him and the stove, âDonât act like you didnât like it,â I say my voice low and sultry as my hand slowly reaches for the spatula heâs hidden behind his back.Â
âYou little minx,â he teases when he feels my fingers searching for the torture weapon. The mischievous gleam flashes in his eyes and before I can run he swipes a blob of whipped cream from a nearby bowl onto my cheek.Â
âLu!â I scoff going to wipe the cream off my cheek but he grasps my wrist to stop me.Â
âFair is fair my dear,â he smirks before licking the sweetness off my cheek. I immediately feel my toes curl at the fiery sensation.
âYou are insatiable,â I laughed, moving away from him to properly wipe my face.
I feel a quick slap to my arse with the spatula and I turn to see my fiancĂ© standing with a self satisfied smirk. âSays you little miss âmore Lucien more!ââ he teases recalling how I begged him to touch me last night.
âI knew you would tease me about that!â I shouted, pushing his study form as hard as I could, he didnât even teeter. âIâll never beg for you again!âÂ
He smiles, grabbing my left hand and pulling it to his mouth, placing a kiss on the ring adorning it. âThere will never be a need,â he smirked. âNow go and set the table, babysitting Nyx duties canât be put off for forever.âÂ
I had told Rhys and Feyre that I would happily watch Nyx this afternoon. Of course that was before they knew about Lucien, who mightâve gotten away with a pleasant afternoon in my townhouse with a new book but now? He was shackled to me to watch the young one.
 While the little High Lord in training was typically quite docile, he had just learned to crawl and had begun flapping his little wings, which meant trouble was becoming the new normal. Which is exactly what had happened todayâŠ
âNyx no!â I shouted as he reached for a heavy book on one of the bookshelves, his tiny wings helping him to gain the extra inch or two of ground he needed.Â
I grabbed him from underneath his shoulders and brought him into my arms, bouncing him on my hip as his eyes caught the shiny necklace I was wearing. His little hands grabbed at it and I figured it was better than a vase or another heavy book.Â
âJust imagine till he can actually fly,â Lucien chuckled, coming up behind me.
âThat wonât be for quite a while thankfully,â I laugh, bouncing the babe up and down.
âAre you so sure about that? Cassian seems to already be giving him lessons.â he points out.Â
âI donât even want to think about a flying toddler,â I scoff and Lucien chuckles behind me.Â
 He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I could feel his lips curling into a smile.âIs it bad that Iâm enjoying watching this?â he admitted.Â
âWatching what?â I laugh as Nyx puts the necklace in his mouth.Â
âYou, with a baby in your arms,â he said.Â
âIâve always wanted children,â I said and a beat of silence passed until I decided to be bold. âLu, do you think we could ever have children?â I ask, afraid to turn around and possibly see a wary look on his face.
I felt Lucienâs chuckle reverberate behind me, âAs many as you would like my darling.â he laughed.Â
I whipped around with Nyx to search his eyes for a hint of uncertainty, but he seemed happy about the idea, âReally?â I asked in disbelief.Â
âOf course,â he assured me.Â
âI want a million just like little Nyx here,â I smile looking at the babe in my arms.Â
âMinus the wings of course,â Lucien laughs behind me and I pause.Â
My entire life I had always pictured my children with wings. Small, delicate little things that I would âoooâ and âahhhâ over. I remembered seeing the Illyrian children in Windhaven growing up, I was always so happy when mothers would let me hold their babies, their wings so adorably small. I looked forward to having winged children of my own, but now things had changed.Â
âWhat is it my dear?â Lucien asked, breaking me out of my trance.Â
âOh itâs nothing, itâs just that when I pictured my children I always figured they would have wings,â I say, pressing a kiss to Nyxâs temple.Â
As if summoned, Azriel walked in, Rhys and Feyre in tow, signaling that their meeting was over. His eyes flitted to me, no doubt having heard what I had said. Lucienâs hand tightened on my hip.Â
âHow was he? Was he good?â Feyre smiled crossing the room to take her son in her arms once more.
âHe was, but those wings are going to give me grief one day,â I smile watching Nyx snuggle into his mothers arms.Â
âDonât worry Iâm terrified too,â Rhys laughed, approaching his mate and child.Â
A comfortable silence ensued as I watched the little family reunite, smiles and warmth surrounding them. Lucienâs hand came to my shoulder, as if promising that we too would have that same picture perfect family one day.Â
âCan we talk?â Azriel asked timidly, taking a step away from the doorway he leaned against. Feyre and Rhys take out of the room, no doubt feeling the change in the atmosphere. Â
I searched his eyes for a hint of aggression but all I found was remorse, âYes we may,â I say quietly.
âIf you lay one hand on her spymaster I will burn you to ash,â Lucien growled, his hand on my shoulder tightening possessively.
âYou have my word that I will not touch her in anger,â Azriel said earnestly, not a hint of teasing or mockery. Instead, a new found respect for Lucien showed in his eyes.Â
I go to follow Azriel into the other room when I feel Lucien grab my hand pulling me into his broad chest.Â
âWait,â he said before slamming his lips to mine. The gesture was so passionate I couldnât help but let out the slightest of moans as I felt him cradle the back of my head. This wasnât just a kiss goodbye, it was a display of power to Azriel, letting him know how serious the two of us were. I couldnât help but feel my lips turn up at Lucienâs sudden daring.Â
I felt him back away to survey my face, as if looking for any hesitancy to enter into a conversation with Azriel. When he was certain I was comfortable he placed a kiss on my brow, âIâll be right here if you need me.â he said as I dropped his hand and followed Azriel into Rhysâ study.Â
The doors to the office closed with a resolute click as Azriel turned to face me, his eyes somber.Â
âFirst and foremost I wanted to say Iâm sorry for the way I behaved the other night. I shouldnât have yelled at you like that or said the things I didâ he said leaning against the desk a food meter away from me, as if Lucien had scared him from coming any closer.Â
âItâs alright I forgive you. I shouldnât have blurted out such an important thing anyways. We were both at fault.â I say earnestly.Â
Azriel pulls his gaze from his boots to me, âI heard what you said in there, about your children having wings. Did you ever picture that those children would be?â he starts leaving me room to finish the sentence for him.Â
âYours? Yes.â I say timidly.
Azriel sighs as if weighing what all this means, âHow long have you known?â he prompts.Â
I think to lie, but it wouldnât bear well on my soul. It was best to get it all out in the open.Â
â400 years.â I confess and he curses under his breath. âI knew it the night you danced with me at the solstice ball in the Hewn City.âÂ
âFuck y/n,â he curses again, turning to brace his hands on the desk behind him and I take a tentative step towards him.Â
âIâm sorry I never told you, that wasnât fair to you.â I sigh, but he doesnât reply so I continue on. âItâs just that every time I thought about it you were pining for Mor and then Elain. I never felt I stood a chance. But you would talk to me about them, and even though it broke my heart to hear how you loved them so, it was better than losing you. I told myself that if I couldnât have your love I would cherish your friendship, and maybe that was selfish of me but I did it.âÂ
Azriel finally turned from the desk to meet my gaze and I tried to offer him the most sympathetic glance I could.Â
âI understand why you never told me, but I still wish I had known. Thingâs mightâve been different.â he said, running a hand through his hair.Â
I pause to consider his words, âWould they be?â I ask.Â
He looked at me in confusion, like I was dispelling the idea that the sky was blue. I understood his disarray. For thousands of years things had always been the same, mates were mates and that was that. But maybe what Lucien said last night did have merit.Â
âAre you not happy with Elain?â I prompt him with a light heart, as I finally started to feel some solace in my own words.Â
ây/n I donât want to-âÂ
âYou do not burden me Az.â I interrupt him, knowing what he was going to say. âTell me truthfully.âÂ
A blush tints his cheeks as he averts his gaze to his boots once more, âI am happy. I am very happy.â he smiles as if he canât help it.Â
âI think it was meant to be this way,â I say honestly watching the shadowsinger reeling in front of me.Â
âWhat about you? Are you?â
âHappy?â I ask, glancing to the door where I know Lucien waits for me on the other side. âIâm happier than Iâve been in a long time.â I smile answering him.Â
âHow long have you and him been⊠you know?â he asks, seemling losing all tension in his body as he sees me at ease. Â
âSince starfall,â I answered, remembering the first time Lu kissed me.Â
âA year?!â Az balked, raising his voice in disbelief.Â
I laugh watching his face drop, âitâs interesting the things you donât notice when youâre in love,â I wink at him, knowing he was too caught up with Elain to pay any mind to Lu and I.Â
Azriel shakes his head as if processing this new information before he turns to me again, âAnd do you love him?â he asks.Â
I smile remembering last night, âI do, I love him very much.â I answer.Â
âAnd does he love you?â Az presses further, as if he needs to tie up all loose ends before he can be at ease with the entire situation.Â
âI think he made that pretty clear a couple minutes ago,â I laughed, referring to the kiss he gave me.Â
âYeah I suppose I got that message loud and clear,â Azriel chuckled as a pause of silence fell over us. âI think⊠I think in another lifetime we wouldâve made each other really happy.â
âMaybe even this lifetime.â I say sadly thinking of what couldâve been. âBut I love Lucien, he chose me when I thought no one else would, and maybe Iâm making a mistake by marrying him. But somehow it feels like the first right thing Iâve done in the past 400 years.âÂ
âHeâs a very lucky man,â Azriel remarked with a certain sadness. âI hope that you will be happy with him,â he finished seemingly giving me his blessing.
âI think it was meant to be this way, don't you?â I ask, finally feeling my heart and my conscious lighten.Â
âI do,â he smiles before holding his hand out to me. âFriends?â he asks.Â
I nod clasping my hand in his, âFriends.âÂ
âLetâs get you back to your fiancĂ© before I find myself in a pile of ash on the floor,â Azriel chuckles, putting his hand on the door.Â
I laugh with him and when the door to the living room opens I find Lucien and Elain hugging.Â
My heart is caught in my throat as I realize that perhaps Lucien mightâve changed his mind. I wouldnât have blamed him if he did. She was his true mate after all and, she was astonishingly beautiful. Maybe I was misled when Azriel and I settled our differences.Â
Both their heads whipped our way, and Lucienâs smile shined brightly. I was unsure of who that smile was for until he ran over to me, grabbing me by the hips and spinning me around.Â
âIt is done,â Lucien cheered and out of the corner of my eye I saw Azriel throw an arm around Elainâs shoulders.Â
âWhat is?â I laughed once my feet were back on the ground.Â
âI donât want to wait any longer. I want to call you my wife by sundown.â Lucien said affectionately.Â
âAnd why shouldnât you wait? Sheâs a princess after all, you should snatch her up while you can,â Elain called out affectionately from Azrielâs side. I couldnât help but look at the two of them standing there. Â
A hand snaked its way under my chin taking my attention to him before he planted his lips on mine. âBe mine, forever.â he proposed.Â
I couldnât stop the smile that graced my face, âOkay,â I said quietly.Â
A cheer from Elain erupted behind me and suddenly it felt like all the pieces were falling into place, like everything I had ever wanted for myself had now come true.Â
The ceremony was short, just like Lucien and I had wanted. However, instead of an elopement it was a small gathering, Cass and Ness, Amren, Mor, Az and Elain and of course Rhys and Feyre were present. I wore my mothers dress and at some point Lu had slipped out to buy me a proper ring, not that I minded the old one.Â
The rest of the night was filled with drinking and frivolity. The whole family laughing and telling stories, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged with all of them, as I sat on my husband's lap. It wasnât until many glasses of wine later that I found Lucien carrying me bridal style over the threshold of our home.Â
âThis really isnât necessary,â I laughed, holding a spare bottle of wine in my hand as he stepped through the doorway, the fireplace roaring to life.Â
âItâs traditional for a husband to carry his wife over the threshold of their home after the wedding.â he retorted, stepping inside the house and closing the door with his foot.Â
âFor humans not for fae,â I corrected him as he finally set me down on slightly unsteady legs.Â
âMaybe I just wanted an excuse to carry you,â he laughed, taking the wine from my hand and setting it on a side table by the door.Â
âYou never need an excuse for that,â I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck.Â
âWell in that case,â he smirks before picking me up again and bounding up our stairs.
My feet donât hit the floor until weâre in our room, his lips finding mine in an instant. With a wave of my hand I remove my dress, magically placing it back to wherever my dear brother found it. Lucien tossed his shirt over his head so that my hands might wander the plains of his toned chest. His hands find my hips pushing me away ever so slightly so that he can see me.
His eyes graze the expanse of my bare body and Iâm suddenly frustrated by the fact that Iâm the only one laid bare in the room.Â
âMy wife,â he says, kissing my lips, pulling me closer. âMy, beautiful, beautiful wife.â he kisses me again, smiling like he canât help it.Â
I try to speak but he deepens the kiss once more, robbing me of words as he uses his body to overpower me with sheer force. His hands find my arse, giving it a squeeze before lifting my feet off the ground and tossing me onto our bed.Â
In a turn of events, my eyes wander the expanse of his body. Toned from years and years of training. His eyes sparkle with amusement and suddenly I feel like a sitting duck awaiting his mouth on me once more.Â
He falls onto the bed, hovering over me as he places yet another kiss on my lips. I use his imbalance to knee his hips towards the bed, my body weight pinning him beneath me as his eyes look up to me with pure lust. Large hands dance up my sides as if to encourage any next move I might make.Â
âMy handsome, cunning, silver tongued husband,â I smirk, placing a kiss on his bare chest. My mouth trails over his chest, to his shoulders, and his collar bones. Needing every part of him on my lips. It isnât until I get to his neck that he lets loose a groan and flips us back over.Â
âWhile I enjoy the sight of you pleasuring yourself on my cock wife, I shall be the one to take you tonight,â he smirks, biting my neck hard, no doubt trying to leave his mark there.Â
âOh Lu,â I breathe, feeling my body come alive over his lips and wandering hands.Â
My eyes shoot open as I feel his breath hovering over my sex, the warmth causing my blood to burn.Â
âWhat a lucky male a I am to be able to taste this sweet cunt whenever I please,â he smiled mischievously before licking a stripe up my center.
I let out a breathy moan as he continues to lick and suck every inch of me. His hands parting my thighs warm and hard as he circles my clit with his tongue. My fingers thread through his hair pulling him impossibly close, earning a groan from him that reverberates through me.Â
âLike fucking honeysuckle,â he moans before trailing more kisses up my body.Â
I slink down moving towards where his cock peeks out of his untied breeches. Needing to feel the weight of him in my mouth, needing to hear the whimpers of pleasure on his tongue but he stops me.Â
âNo not tonight,â he fusses pushing me back down into the mattress.Â
âBut Lu-â
âNo butsâ he interrupts. âI want to pleasure my new wife tonight. Let me have that,â he moans silencing any protest I might have with a kiss as he slides home.Â
The all consuming feeling of being taken by him as me gasping for breath as my back arches off the bed. My tits rising towards his mouth and he easily grasps a hardened nipple between his lips, sucking eagerly.Â
âLucien,â I breathe feeling him all around me.
âI love you,â he rasped, thrusting deeper. âMy wife I love you.â he grunted watching where he slammed into me with intensity.Â
My hand came to cup his face bringing his eyes to mine. My fingers trace the scar over his golden eye as I see the emotion flood his russet colored eye. âI love you too, husband,â I whisper to him.Â
A gleam finds his eyes and he drives into me harder, the sound of skin slapping reverberating throughout the room. It was as if me uttering his new title spurred him on.Â
Weâre a tangled mess of sweat slick limbs and ragged breaths as I feel him deeper and deeper inside of me. My nails scraping his back, trying to find purchase or something to anchor me as pleasure rips through my body. His pants become whimpers as I feel myself tightening around him.Â
âAlways so perfectly tight,â he curses, driving through my tight heat.Â
His words are enough to have me falling apart under him, my legs shaking from pleasure as I cry his name.Â
âLucien oh gods!â I cry, my hands no doubt leaving marks in his skin.Â
âThatâs right my love, cum for me,â he groans before sputtering himself. âFuck,â he mutters before I feel him burry his seed deep inside me.Â
His whimpers fill the space between my neck and shoulder as he finishes inside me. Once heâs spent he rolls over taking me with him so Iâm cuddled into his side.Â
âIâm so unbelievably happy,â he whispers into the world, still coming down from his high.Â
âIâm told thatâs often a side effect of an orgasm,â I laugh running a hand up and down his chest, soothing him. Â
âNo,â he says breathlessly, turning so that he is hovering over me once more. âIâm unbelievably happy because of you. You have not only given me your love, but youâve given me a house, and a family. I never thought I would have those things. You are⊠you are everything and I promise to be the most amazing husband I can be.â he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow.Â
âYou already are,â I smile, pulling him into another heated kiss.Â
It would undoubtedly be like this for many years to come. However long the Cauldron allowed me to live, I knew I would always have a place here, with Lucien. And maybe things didnât go as I had always planned, but gods was I happy, and more importantly I was loved.Â
Lucien Vanserra chose me, not because I was his mate, or because the world told him to. No, he chose me because he loved me, even when it wasnât convenient for him, and I chose him too. I would choose him until the end of my days.Â
Epilogue: Five Years Later
âCareful my darling,â Lucien fussed, helping to lower me down onto a sofa.Â
âLu Iâm pregnant not fatally injured,â I laugh waving him away as I rest my hands on my ever growing bump.Â
âOf course, pregnancy is a walk in the park, Iâll remember that next time you beat me for serving you chocolate pancakes instead of blueberry,â he chides, pulling a blanket over my lap. âI spend a year telling myself you like blueberries and this little one comes along and all of the sudden you want chocolate.âÂ
âPregnancy cravings are no joke my friend,â Rhysand laughs from the adjacent couch. âI find it best to satisfy your wifeâs cravings as soon as possible before she asks for another ridiculous request.âÂ
âEspecially when oneâs wife is a princess,â Lucien teases, pressing a kiss to my temple.
âYou married me!â I protest.
âAnd I thank the Cauldron every day that I did,â Lucien smiles, pressing a kiss to my lips finally.
Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)
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if your still taking requests I would like to request reader scraping their knees and tasm!peter patching her up and itâs a lot of lovely tension:))) maybe r not being used to people touching them without bad intentions.
I hope you are having a lovely time right now and are taking care of yourself<3
thank you lovely! ⥠fem, 1k
Peter's droopy eyed when you knock, less so when he gets a good look at you. Blood leading like twin snakes from the grazed ache of your knees and staining your socks, tears lining your eyes and shiny in the sun, you're embarrassingly sad. He doesn't give you shit for it, the opposite.Â
"Fuck," he says, his eyes widening with a familiar concern. "Shit, what did you do?"Â
"Uhm," you say, though you know, but you bit your tongue on the way down and everything hurts, "I fell. Someone bumped into me coming out of the subway."Â
Peter holds his hands out, thinks better of it and steps down over the door jam to take your hands and pull you forward for a hug. He smells like apple jack cereal and his hair is still wet from an early morning shower, a walking poster boy for brown-haired, brown-eyed sweethearts everywhere, but you still seize at his tight hold.Â
He murmurs a sorry and leans back, assessing your gaze, so close that you can see the trifecta of his pinprick beauty marks, one in the shadow of his brow, one under his eye, and one closer to his nose.Â
"Come on. We'll clean you up."Â
Peter ushers you inside, his fingertips brushing the small of your back. You walk into the kitchen, every surface clean, the wooden dining table decorated by one empty coffee cup and one half full. His cereal bowl has been washed and left to dry on the rack, next to what must've been his Aunt May's plate.Â
"May's in work already?" you ask him.
He hums, turned away from you, a slip of his long, shapely back exposed as he reaches for the first aid kit sitting on top of one of the cabinets. "She said to tell you thank you for the flowers last week."Â
You panicked so much beforehand. What do you bring for your not quite new friend's mom when you meet her for the first time? You've known Peter for a few months but never had the good fortune to meet May until she demanded it, your bouquet a weak offering. You'd wanted her to like you, because despite your fight or flight whenever he gives you a quick shoulder rub, any ounce of affection, you really like Peter.Â
Said flowers draw your attention as Peter helps you up onto the counter. You turn away from him, trembling hands forced under your thighs, and count the petals of a wilting carnation one by one as he washes his hands quickly in the sink beside you before laying out the sterile bandages atop their plastic coverings. "I'm gonna wipe the blood off," he says.Â
You're past saying no, I can do it myself. You already let him help you up. The time to protest is passed.Â
"Okay."Â
He takes your wobbly voice for nervousness, and you are nervous, but not the way he thinks. "I'll be careful," he says. "You don't have anything to worry about."Â
Strange but not unheard of for Peter to be so serious. You nod jerkily, waiting for his touch. It doesn't come for a while, and you brave meeting his gaze to find out why.Â
His eyebrows are sewn together in concern. His hands land on your thighs, and, to your surprise, you aren't apprehensive. You relax as deft hands draw mirrored lines up and down the outer sides of your legs, leaving a generous distance from the beginnings of your shorts. "Maybe you can take some advil first, if you're worried." He eases your legs apart as he steps into the space between them, his eyes unfailing where they meet yours. "It'll hurt less. I bet I could get some topical numbing creamâ"Â
"It's notâ" You peek down at his chest. "I'm not worried about my knees."Â
"Oh. Good," he says, hand coming up to your elbow. He holds it so tenderly you wonder how you ever thought he might have a propensity for anything but tenderness. "You look really nice, under all the blood. Is that weird? That's probably why you fell, you couldn't just walk around looking that nice. Throws off the balance of the universe."Â
You laugh softly. "These are my best socks."Â
"I can see that!" He squeezes down from your elbow to your hand. You've never been touched like that, half massage, half reassurance, just squeezing you to squeeze you. Laughter livens his tone, "I'll get you new socks."Â
"You don't have to do that."
"I want to."Â
You struggle to breathe as he cleans your knees. Between his murmuring, It's okay and Almost done, you've no time to feel worried.Â
You've time for other things, like this. He turns between your legs and slides a hand under the other, fingertips pressing into the soft underside of your knee as he works a thin layer of disinfecting ointment into your scratches. He continues his murmuring, apologies and lamentation alike. "Sorry. Don't want you catching rabies from the pristine streets of Queens. I mean, fuck, sweetheart, you made a real mess. How hard did you fall?"Â
You swallow a lump that feels fit to choke you, worse when he tilts his head ever so slightly your way, face an inch from yours, less.Â
"Hard," you say weakly.Â
He misses the implication (your first stroke of luck all day), smoothing a large square of gauze over your knee and securing it with medical tape. "It's nothing a day on the couch can't fix. I'll make you breakfast too, free of charge."Â
"Thanks, Peter."Â
He rubs the skin above your knee. "You're welcome. One horrendous injury down, one to go."Â
His touch feels even softer the second time around.Â
#tasm peter parker#tasm peter x reader#tasm peter parker imagine#tasm peter parker x you#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm x reader#peter parker x reader#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter imagine#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm! peter parker x reader#spiderman x reader#peter parker oneshot#peter parker blurb#peter parker imagine#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#spiderman x you#spiderman fanfiction
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canine intuition | đŹđŁđČ
àšà§ pairing: sim (jake) jaeyun x fem!reader àšà§ word count: 1.4k àšà§ genre: fluff, hints of comedy àšà§ tags: established relationship, marriage!au, expecting!reader, layla's basically the smartest girl in the room àšà§ synopsis: Sometimes your dog knows what's going on before you do. And shenanigans ensue when she uses her knowledge to protect you, whether you want her to or not. âž For the birthday boy and his beautiful fur baby âĄ
âLayla, youâre not coming back inside until you use the bathroom, missy,â you warn the pup. With her head angled to the side, staring up at you in confusion, she must be wondering why youâre refusing to let her back into the house. And you typically would cave if it werenât for the fact it wasnât so early in the morning.
When you began dating Jake, you wondered if and how Layla would warm up to you. It scared you more than meeting his parents, if you were being honest. Canines, like their feline counterparts, had a supernatural intuition about people. If she didnât like you, what did that say about where your relationship would end up in a few months?
Luckily, you both got on perfectly. The two of you were practically thick as thieves by the time Jake proposed and eventually added the wedding band to your finger.
Now, with a beautiful house and adjoining backyard, walks with Layla have become a less-frequent occurrence. She gets more than enough exercise in her new, grassy oasis. Itâs only when she needs to go out and come in that either you or Jake have to get up and tend to her physically.
Today, though, she has yet to use the bathroom. Jake had to head out early for a meeting with his business partners and left you to take over the household duties.
Despite your orders, she doesnât seem to budge on her stance to come back inside. Her persistence mirrors her fatherâs to the letter, making you smile.
âLayla, once you use the bathroom then Iâllââ You feel a sudden rush of bile hit the back of your throat, causing you to press your hand to your mouth. Was it the coffee you just drank, or the quick breakfast burrito you scarfed down before letting Layla out?
âI might have toââ The next second, youâre running to the bathroom at lightning speed. Your knees slam against the tile floor as you bury your head inside the toilet, the contents of your stomach emptied out in a second. Layla scratches on the back door with rapid paws. You can hear a whine behind the screen as you wipe your face with a piece of toilet paper.
Layla runs through the door once youâve cleaned yourself up, and she jumps up to check on you in an instant. Her paws press lightly on your stomach, her head tilted again at that signature angle when sheâs concerned.
âDonât worry, honey. Iâm alright.â You scratch her behind the ears, hoping to appease her anxiety. There are lingering traces of queasiness, but you decide to rest on the couch for a while in hopes of making it go away. Layla doesnât leave your side for the rest of the morning, forgoing her breakfast to keep her head nestled warmly in your lap.
Laylaâs odd behavior continues into the next day.
Itâs a modern marvel for Jake to leave work early. Client meetings run long enough as it is, so getting alone time with him at this point in his career is a gift you contable treasure.
Youâre cooking a quick lunch for the two of you when Jake wraps his arms around you. Your husband presses sloppy kisses into your neck, his hands exploring your body as he holds you snug against him.
âHoney,â you chide him, trying to mix the macaroni in the pot without letting any stick to the bottom. It will be a bitch to cleanâand much less scrape outâif you donât keep a close eye on it. He knows this, but he clearly has other plans on his mind.
âWe can eat later. Right now, Iâd rather have dessert,â Jake whispers into the crook of your neck. He reaches around you to turn the stove off, his mind made up.
When you turn around to face him, youâre met with his signature grin, the cheshire cat smile that made you fall in love with him without much effort plastered across his face.
âMaybe I wanted to eat mac and cheese, how about that?â You counter as you run your fingers under his shirt. His skin is warm to the touch, the ripples of his muscles igniting a fire deep in your stomach.
âI think I can change your mind,â he teases.
When he grazes his lips against yours, pressing you harder against him, thatâs when Layla loses it.
She begins barking loudly at her father, making him immediately take his hands from your body to lean down to her level. She stands in between you two with fierce attention, the fur on her back brushing your legs.
âWhatâs wrong, girly girl?â He asks, all sensuality gone from his expression. His concern for her welfare and yours was one of the many reasons you loved him, his affection and loving words for âhis favorite girlsâ always squeezing your heart in a vice grip.
Layla nuzzles her snout against Jakeâs palm, but she makes no move to stray from her spot against you. You cross your arms, frowning. âLayla, whatâs up with you lately? Mommyâs fine,â you assure her.
âMaybe she wants to go for a W-A-L-K.â Jake spells out the words, wiggling his eyebrows and walking in the direction of the hooks that hold his coats and her leash. âIs that what you want, baby? You want to go for a walk?â
Laylaâs ears perk up instantly, her tail wagging in all directions before Jake puts her in her harness. The moment forgotten as the two of them head out the door, you wonder whatâs up with her and how to help her feel better moving forward.
The next week, you feel worse for wear. You think back to that day in the kitchen, realizing how oblivious you were to the way your body would turn against you. The nausea was something you could handle. But now, your body is all kinds of sore, mostly in your chest and pelvic region.
You would pass it off as normal premenstrual symptoms, but the pain is foreign on some level you canât explain. If only you could put a proper name to it, maybe it wouldnât nag you so much.
Layla whimpers the entire day, snuggled into your side as though she believes her body can provide some relief for your aching one.
By the afternoon, you call Jake to take your mind off of the overbearing discomfort. He begins to talk about the newest project at the firm and his role in landing the contract, but once he hears Laylaâs array of cries, he changes his focus.
âIs something going on?â You hear the concern in your husbandâs voice immediately, and your heart clenches at his tone.
âNo, no, baby, Iâm fine. She probably just needs to pee.â At the worst time possible, a cramp makes you gasp in pain.
âIâm coming home,â Jake says with finality, no room for any further discussion.
By the time he makes it home, he brings a large bowl of chicken noodle soup and a brand new heating pad to your bedside.
He runs his hands through your hair as you cry, reminding you to eat as much of the soup as you can stomach.
âNext time, please donât make Layla the messenger,â Jake jokes, kissing the crown of your head. The girl in question sits nestled against yours and Jakeâs feet, satisfied sheâs done her job to make sure you got the help you needed.
The sun peers into the bathroom and shines down on the two pink lines staring back at you. The truth of whatâs been in development for the past few weeks hits you with full force. Any normal woman would be hyper emotional at the news or terrified at her life changing as she knows it. For you, all you can do is stare down at your dog and laugh.
âYou knew this entire time, didnât you?â You ask Layla although she canât reply, tears of joy and humor running down your cheeks. She just looks up at you with the same cocked head and wagging tail.
You turn back to the three pregnancy tests that rest on top of the marble counter, all of them confirming what the pup knew to be true many days ago.
Call it canine intuition, feminine senses, or a little bit of both. Itâs anyoneâs guess.
What isnât up for debate is whether or not youâll tell the man you love the news when he gets home.
When he does, he carries a bouquet of flowers in his hands. âSaw these on my way home and thought of you,â he says, beaming.
You grin and press your mouth to his softly. âI actually have something for you too.â
You guide him into the bathroom, his eyes immediately locking onto the tests near the sink. In classic Jake Sim fashion, his eyes go wide and his billion-megawatt grin appears on his lips. âAre you serious?â
You nod your head, the waterworks from earlier coming back.
He encases you in a tight hug, his body shaking with his own barrage of emotions. His voice is trembling when he says, âIâm gonna be a dad.â
He kisses every free space of your face, landing finally on your lips in a tear-stained but beautiful kiss. âHow long have you known?â
âJust for a few hours.â You see Layla in the doorway, your pup smiling at the two of you. âBut someone actually knew a long time ago.â
@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy
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@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators
#kvanity#k-films#svnet#enhypen soft hours#sim jaeyun soft hours#sim jaeyun x reader#sim jaeyun fluff#enhypen fic#enhypen fics#enha fic#enha soft hours#sim jaeyun fic#sim jaeyun fics#jake sim x reader#jake sim fic#jake sim fics#jake sim fluff#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enha fics
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đN THIS STORY ă a life lived as a human among the fae is one hard-earned. the folk are built of indescribable beauty, and of debauchery and mischief. for some, a life lived subservient to the folk is just fine; but to those who dream of something more, they would spend their lives clawing and biting to make it happen.
you, looking for a way to escape a life as a faerieâs human servant, put a new foot forward thinking that any life could be better than that. but, when your first assignment as a kingâs spy is alongside a brooding, icy faerie man, you begin to wonder what your place in this foreign world really could be.
wc âł 20.2k
pairings faerie!taehyun x human!reader, faerie!yeonjun x human!reader
warnings angst, heated kissing, violence, blood, jealousy jealousy jealousy, controlling and obsessive behavior, a bit of a gross nightmare, magic spell placed over a human, a bit of traditional values, i think thatâs allâŠ
playlists â yeonjun Ë taehyun Ë series
âŠđȘ¶ ashlynn's note guys. really. thatâs all i have to say. i love u and once again if u see a typo or like whack sentenceâŠâŠ no you didnât. also my back hurts help
â â â
Youâve come to a thought, in all your aimless idling about the estate. Running your fingers over the surface of all the things youâve done and the decisions youâd made leading you into this reality, youâve been caught on one particularly worrisome divot: the geas.Â
They hadnât exactly given you a time frame, but you surmise that youâre quickly approaching the limit. You've entertained the fantasy that theyâll just consider the both of you dead, but itâs just that: fantasy. You know itâs a ridiculous thought. Thereâs a plethora of things that they might first assume before coming to the conclusion that youâve met your ends. Though the geasâ workings are a bit elusive to you, you can imagine that all it would take is a tug to check whether or not youâre alive. So, if you ever really wanted to call this place home, youâve got to do away with it. Youâve got to. Otherwise, all your wagering to stay here would be in terrible vain. You imagine how much of a fool you already look to Taehyun, considering your entanglement with the prince, and how heâd warned you repeatedly. Itâs not your fault that he decided to stay here along with you, but you feel nauseous imagining your own mistakes getting the both of you killed. Â
Embroidering whorling designs on the hems of your coverlets or sweating away your energy with practicing blocks and parries, youâd also let your mind wander off to fill the silence. It was then that youâd remembered what Beomgyu had offered you in his attempts at luring you. I could dissolve that geas for you. Â
You sit, legs spread out ahead of you, in the little spot that youâve found yourself frequenting these days: pressed against the side of your wardrobe, just enough room for your feet to brush against the wood framing of your bed without having to bend your knees. Taehyun has recently been bringing an influx of faeries to work the estateâall indebted to him or his father. Or, well, thatâs what he tells you, anyway. You choose to believe him, but still, you wonder about the circumstances of those debts. The brownie assigned to your care, named Conifer, is long-limbed with bark for skin that crawls up from her spindly fingers and toes, just to end at her shins and fore-arm, and insists on bathing you and preparing your clothes each day. When you refuse her, she loiters around the doorway anxiously watching you prepare yourself with her watery black eyes until you decide to make her life just a bit easier and allow her to do her work. You donât exactly adore the scrape of her sharp fingers on your scalp while she does your tresses up, though. Their presence reminds you of the servants youâd see running around Yeonjunâs place. Â
In this corner, you avoid them. Itâs a nice spot to betray your own resolution; his letters are only a grab of the handles away. You try not to, but you read them. Often. When your memories really get kicking, when youâre sickened by twinkling, desperate eyes looking up to you from the ground, you read them. Â
âYou look sorry.â Beomgyu settles opposite from you, his back against your bed.Â
Scoffing at him, you pull yourself out of a slouch. âOh, wow. Thank you. You have a way with words,â you quip, hiding the letters youâd fished out indulgently away behind you.Â
He furrows his brows. âI meant it.âÂ
You drag in some air and release it slow. âI know. Iâm sure I do.âÂ
He points at you with the hand he has rested on his knee. âDoes it have something to do with the letters?âÂ
You hadnât hidden them fast enough. Shame crawls a warm red path over your cheeks and ears. Nobody has made any comments at you for your longing, but it feels pitiful to be doing so. You shake your head. âNo. I was just... thinking. About something you said when we first met.âÂ
Strong brows shoot up over lazed eyes. âI think I said many things,â he says, âyouâll have to tell me.âÂ
âThat you could dissolve my geas,â you say, fiddling with your fingers.Â
His eyes consider you. âIt bothers you.âÂ
âIt does,â you say. âIt was a mistake. I shouldâve refused it.â Hope flutters in your chest like a dead weight. You shun it away before reality can rip it out for you.Â
Deadpanned, and not particularly delicately, he tells you, âI cannot break it.â Â
Nodding, you wilt. Itâs what you were expecting, anyway. That would be too easy. "Why not? You said it yourself that you could.âÂ
âA geas is a type of magic cut from the fabric of a promise. Itâll exist until the faerie that placed it over you chooses to revoke it. I couldnât reach in and cut the line like I would another sort of enchantment.â He presses his mouth into a line. âI was under the impression that you were brought up here. Hadnât you known that a promise is binding?âÂ
 Wincing, you answer, âYeah. I did.â And yet, you made it. It was perhaps the biggest mistake youâve made in your entire life. You now understand Taehyunâs aversion when he first made his appearance at the den. You were too tunnel-visioned to really listened to him, then. You run your hands furiously through your hair. âStill... you said you could. How did you say that, if it was a lie?âÂ
A wicked smile cracks over his lipsâone that looks as though heâs sharing a joke that only the both of you might understand, but youâre far from being in on it with him. âA bit late to be learning how our kind play, I believe. I was able to say that because I made myself think it true. It is not plain, and it is not fair, but itâs what it is.âÂ
âThat makes no sense,â you say, shaking your head. âYou canât believe something is true over what you already know is the truth. Youâd have to acknowledge the other thingâs truth to do that.âÂ
He grimaces. âThat you believe that is why youâve found yourself here. Itâs paradoxical, maybe, but weâre good at that. Loopholes exist where you look hard enough for them. If you donât intend to get caught up, you just never accept a Faerie deal, thereâs no other way to it.âÂ
Running fingers over the grooves in the wood of the floor, you say, âI suppose I shouldnât ask you to work up an enchantment that might counteract it, then.âÂ
âPerhaps I could,â he says.Â
Perked up and mouth dropped open, youâre ready to ask him a waterfall of questions. He cuts in before you can even start. âIt wouldnât rid you of the original magic, and I can make no promises to you that itâd be watertight.âÂ
âIâll take anything,â you say. With narrowed eyes, you add, âAfter that whole speech about finding loopholes to lie, and to never trust faerie magic, though...âÂ
He frowns at you. âI see how it is.âÂ
âWhat? I mean, you said it a few seconds ago. I think getting tripped up into another Faerie trick, like, literally seconds after you warned me about them would be a bit ironic.âÂ
âWeâre no longer friendly,â he says, crossing his arms over his chest.Â
You laugh. Him considering you friends is news to you. The word is delicious. You want to say it more. âOh, please. Weâre only friends when it benefits you. How can I be so sure you arenât tricking me?âÂ
âNow, weâre really not friendly.âÂ
A laugh bubbles past your lips once again, and you crawl over to him to try and make amends. âYouâre the one who said it.âÂ
He turns his face from you. âSpare me.âÂ
âSeriously though, do you mean it? That youâd help me?â you ask. The proposition is too shiny to not consider.Â
âItâs not as if I could harm you in any way,â he tells you, dropping the theatrics. âI think Iâd like something in return for it, though.âÂ
You frown. Of course, in Faerie, there are no favors. âWhat would you want?âÂ
The kelpieâs eyes roam over your room for a moment, but itâs mostly for show, because his eyes come back on you with intent. He lifts his head at you in a pointing gesture. âThose letters,â he says. Â
Frown deepening, you sit back. âThe letters?â you say, trying to rein in your face. You donât want him to see how awfully you want to cling to them. Having them is inconsequential when stood beside dealing with the geas, but still... âThe ones from Yeonjun?âÂ
Eyes dancing with interest, he nods. âThose.âÂ
You pull them from behind you. They look a lot less pretty now, envelopes dented with your touches. You canât see why heâd have any interest in them; they werenât even for him. âWhy?â you ask him. âTheyâre just letters.âÂ
Beomgyu nod his head in acknowledgment. âThey are,â he says. âSo why do they bother you as they do?âÂ
Pausing, you consider his words. Why do they? Yeonjun is a liar. You werenât specialâjust a mission to him. You should hate him; seeing those letters full of flowery words and proclamations of love should anger you. And they do, they do anger you, but that doesnât stop you from reading them. Youâre not sure what youâre searching for in them. Closure? Proof of his lies? Or, excuses?Â
Beomgyu has no interest in the letters. Itâs his way of telling you that you need to grow a spine. You suppose itâs about time that you do just that.Â
âHere.â You push them off into his hands. âYouâll do it, then?âÂ
The corners of his lips turn up. âMaybe...âÂ
You hiss and reach for your letters, but he tugs them toward himself and holds them safe out of your reach.Â
âGive those back, you prick,â you say. âYou donât get them for free. Itâs called a deal. You said youâd help me.âÂ
With his eyes dancing with wild mischievous intent, he pretends to think. âDid I?âÂ
You land a smack on his upper arm, groaning when it only sends his face more viciously taunting. That playing glint in his eyes is welcomed, though. At least you know heâs only playing. Otherwise, you might be more worried that he is genuinely screwing you over. âStop playing tricks,â you say, furled out from gritted teeth. âYou know you did. This is what got you here in the first place, idiot. Iâm being serious.âÂ
His lip curls, and he relents. âDo not remind me.âÂ
âDidnât you learn your lesson the first time?â you say, sending eyes with dagger points his way. âCâmon. Magic.âÂ
Looking kicked, he grabs your hand. It sends you back to the day youâd gotten that awful geas and the way Cricket had done the same thing. Youâre going to fix that mistake.Â
âI was just having my fun. I suffer a terrible drought of it here.âÂ
Your skin tickles, and you know heâs working on it. Heart doing nervous laps, you say, âWell, look whose roof we live under. Itâs no wonder.âÂ
He likes that, wicked delight crackling over his features in just the same way his magic crackles through your veins. Itâs a far cry from the last time youâd felt a sensation like this. It feels as though a beast of the wild is crashing through your bones like theyâre hollow. Itâs untamed, but you know just by the thrumming of it that his magic is much more refined and ancient than the geasâ. Its claws brush up against your very core. Â
You try and blink away the daze, deciding to distract yourself away from it with speech. âYou know, I was thinking.âÂ
He raises his eyebrows, listening. His magic doesnât falter as he offers you his attention; no need for his concentration. Not when heâs had centuries to become intimately familiar with it. Â
âThat maybe Yeonjun is a gancanagh,â you continue. Â
A gancanaghâsugar-mouthed faeries with the power to send those around them enamored with them with only as much as their words. Theyâre better known for their other, and in your opinion more fitting, name: love-talker. Youâd been so taken by Yeonjun, so weakened by him. The idea that perhaps it was all to the effect of some magic... Youâre not sure whether it consoles you or makes it hurt more. Then again, it could also just be you trying to justify the mistakes youâd made. Your mind bends and twists around the thought, maybe the magic. Or, maybe, frustration.Â
âA gancanagh,â he says. Beomgyu considers the notion for a moment, but still works his magic through you. âIâm not sure.âÂ
Not sure? You press the issue. âHow are you not sure whether or not the prince is a gancanagh? I know you stay in your forest, but I imagine that youâd know that.âÂ
âHmm.â He turns your arm as if trying for a new angle. âI believe that the princeâs mother is one of the sorrier kinds that the High King takes. He has his Ladies, and he has his courtesans. It seems that he was not so proud of her, since her name never reached my lands.âÂ
A bout of nausea rolls over your skull. His magic is so potent. The tidbit of information is enough to have you perking up despite it. âYou think that his mother is a courtesan?âÂ
âWell, I know she is not a favored Lady. I know nothing of her. She could be gancanagh, or she could be any other thing.â He shoots you a pointed look. âIâm curious as to why you ask.âÂ
Skin clammy, you wipe at your cheek. âHow long does this take?â you ask.Â
âAs long as I make it take,â he says, tilting his head off to one side. âWhy are you worried of the princeâs heritage?âÂ
You know heâs fishing answers out of you. Shrugging, you tell him, âIt was a genuine thought.âÂ
Nausea and buzzing subside as he releases your arm. âThe King has many children. Only some were really considered for their fatherâs throne, though. I know that the young prince was never one of them. I suggest thinking on that.âÂ
You blow out a shuddering breath, controlled and small, to compose yourself under the weight of this new magic. âThatâs it?â you ask, brushing some hair away from your face. âWhat did you do?âÂ
âMostly, blocked.âÂ
âElaborate,â you say, running fingers over your skin as if you might feel the magic there.Â
Taken with amusement, he answers, âIf the one who placed the geas there tries and play that card, theyâll find the pathways blocked.â He slumps back onto your bed. âIt does not mean that the original magic is gone. It is still very much there. Just... hindered.âÂ
Your head swims. Itâs not gone, but this... You know that your sleep will come to you easier now. Maybe itâs not foolproof, but this is much better. Much.Â
âNo more deals,â he tells you. âYouâve only got so much of yourself. Each time you fill yourself up with our magic, you lose that space. You will never be whole again, but you ought to savor what youâve got left. You can only make the best of it.â His mud brown eyes are not joking, now.Â
Blinking, you fumble out a nod.Â
Youâll never be whole again. You hope thatâs more a clever wording than the truth, but with the chill that grips your belly and brushes over the overfilled parts of you, you fear you canât help but believe it.Â
â
You hate it.Â
Drowning in itâyou hate it. You hate the scarlet red of it, you hate the sticky spray of it on your skin, hate the cries of agony that follow its ceremony, and the feel of its blazing warmth fresh from the body. Youâre choking. Swimming up with thrashing arms, itâs so thick that you make no way. Â
The liquidity turns to sturdy arms. They cage you, grab your heart and twist, point daggers at your chest and they whisper words in your ears that you donât want to remember. Your place is in the dirt, they say. You are nothing. A boot in your neck chokes you. You want to scream and cry that you are good, that you didnât want to hurt them, that youâll just mind your place if they take their boot off from your neck, but you canât. You have no voice.Â
The metallic tang of the blood follows you, even as you find yourself standing in Court. It stains the muddy floor a wretched color. A thousand eyes blaze on your skin.
You feel them looking at you. You want them to stop, but they laugh and laugh. Yeonjun joins them, looking up at you with vile mock.
âYou think Iâd beg for you?â he sneers. His sweet voice is warped and twisted into something ugly and mean that grates at your ears and heart. His laugh echoes, and then youâre looking up at him as he hovers over you. âYou donât deserve my begging. I hate you.â
Metal burns your nose, and when you look between the two of you, heâs bleeding from the stomachâfrom the dagger youâd plunged there. He looks up at you, livid eyes piercing you. âLook. Look what you did. You killed me.â
You shake your head frantically, going to hold his face. You try to tell him no, no you didnâtâyou didnât kill him, but stillâ
Shooting up, you grasp for breaths and clutch at the bedding. Heart thudding in your chest, you find Taehyun stood in your doorway, looking dragged from sleep.Â
You adjust your sleep gown, disheveled with sleep and ridden up your thighs. Still piecing together consciousness, you croak out a, âHuh?âÂ
There, tickling at the back of your mind, you still smell blood.Â
âI thought something was wrong,â he says, taking in the room with a thorough sweep. âYou sounded...â Taehyun starts, but does not finish. âSince youâre doing fine, Iâll leave you to sleep.âÂ
âStay?â you blurt, before he can turn and leave you here. Your voice comes out thinner and more fragile than youâd meant it to. Â
Brows shooting up, Taehyun is hesitant to step into the room. âItâs probably hours before sunrise,â he says. âYou donât want to fall back asleep?âÂ
You shake your head. No, you donât. If you do, then youâll be back to drowning. You might not even be able to fall asleep at this point. The taste lingers. Youâre still panting a little when you say, âI donât want to bother you, but... Please.âÂ
Taehyun relents apprehensively, stopping just before the end of your bed. Moonlight blooms over his face from the window. It makes a show of his sharp cheek and jaw lines and emphasizes the feathering of his jaw around a hard swallow. âYou were having a bad dream,â he says, an observation rather than a question. âAbout what?âÂ
Him standing over you like that; it doesnât feel so easy to tell him that youâre haunted by what youâve done. You wince at him and send a gesture up. âYou donât have to stand there. You can sit here.â You pat at the opposite end of your bed.Â
He flexes one hand, a rare anxious gesture from him. âI wouldnât just invite myself into a ladyâs bed.âÂ
Well, he didnât have to put it like that.Â
You say, âIâm inviting you to sit down next to me, Taehyun...âÂ
Itâs a few moments before he does, bed dipping beneath him. Like this, it feels much less like an interrogation. Insects buzz outside, singing their song to the stars and mercifully filling up the moment that you take to pluck up composure. He watches you, but doesnât say anything. He waits.Â
Catching a few strands of your scattered thoughts, you say, âDo you get nightmares sometimes? About the people youâve killed?â Itâs blunt and not much, but itâs all you have in you. Itâs a thought that has served as a thorn in your side for quite a while now, too. Is it only you whoâs had a prison made of their own mind?Â
 Will it ever go away?Â
Resolutely, he shakes his head. âNo. I donât.âÂ
âOh.â You hold yourself a little harder, as if the chill that passes over you is a draft from the window and not bitter dread. âHow? How can you not be bothered by it? Theyâre dead, and theyâll never be coming back. They had as many thoughts and wants as we did. They had mothers that might weep to know theyâre gone. I canât... I donât stop thinking of them.âÂ
âItâs a bit too late for me to start feeling sorry for it,â Taehyun says. âYou canât let it rule you. Not everybody is good, and they were not. If they try to hurt you, you hurt them first. If they lay their hands on you, you cut them off.âÂ
You grow tense as he explains, eyes so heavy that you can practically feel the dark hollows beneath them. âNot even when you hurt someone for the first time? It didnât bother you then?âÂ
He eyes you. The pine smell of him so close to you is both familiar and a distant memory. âI saw blood too early for it to ever haunt me.âÂ
Turning finally, you find his eyes. âI feel so guilty.â Your body buzzes with the need to curl into him, to have him comfort you for it, but you know that he wonât receive it the way you want him to. The way Yeonjun had. Â
But you need it. You need it so bad right now.Â
âThat wonât absolve it. Guilt will not raise them from the dead,â he says. Itâs forthright, but he doesnât mean it to disconcert you. âYouâre tearing yourself up inside, but thereâs justice in protecting yourself.âÂ
Swallowing around tension, you nod. Heâs right; you had every right to kill those times. Youâve known that the whole time. So, why does it still visit you in the deep hours of the night? You chant his words in your head, as if to beat them into your skull. If you try hard enough, you will.Â
âWhat happens?â he asks, when the both of you have been quiet for too long. Itâs strange to see him making attempts to fill silence. âIn the dreams, what happens?âÂ
Shifting into a cozier position, you lean into the headboard by your shoulder. Some of the adrenaline has worked itself away, but remembering it is still bitter. Â
You donât miss the flickering of his eyes over the expanse of your thigh. You mightâve explained it away as a quick glance if that... look had not passed over his face. Restraintâdarting eyes and his throat bobbing. It seems that his concern about being in your bed was about more than just propriety.Â
âMostly, blood.â You make a distraction out of the hemming of your blanket, pinching and picking at it. âSo much of it. Sometimes the dreams are different, but... itâs always the common theme.âÂ
Acknowledging that, he dips his head in a slow, shallow nod. âWeâll start training you on the bow, then.âÂ
âThe bow?â you ask.
âI think that the long range will be better for you,â Taehyun elaborates.
You drink his face in once more. In it, you see him reaching out a handâitâs shaky and awkward and untrained. But under all that, you see that heâs trying. In the silver moonlight, the bow does not look so bad.
Taehyun doesnât leave you until dawn cracks through the windows.
â
You wish that you had your gloves. Itâs freezing todayâwind whipping your hair and teeth chattering even through your extensive layering. You have, like, two pairs of woolen stockings on. But Taehyun said that youâll need to be able to grip the bowstring good, and so you abandoned them when youâd dragged all this on.Â
Heâd made good on his word. Now, youâre out in some shallow neck of the woods, and heâs pointing out the trees that youâre supposed to be using for targets. Theyâre obscured in the onslaught of snowy haze. You want to gripe that heâd picked the worst day to drag you out here, but really, you know it was a fully intentional choice.Â
âNo bullseye for now, just try and hit them wherever you can manage.â Taehyun makes a gesture up at the array of trees. âDonât forget that the wind is blowing west. Youâll have to adjust for that.âÂ
He watches you take up an arrow, quiet as you clumsily wiggle it around until it sits in a spot that feels relatively correct.Â
âHigher,â he finally says. âFind the rest for the arrow, and then youâll find the nocking point on the string.âÂ
You fumble with the placement some more, freezing fingers not as agile as they could be. Just as he said, the arrow falls into a place where it sits comfortably. âThis?âÂ
He hums, voice closer. âThatâs good. Now, you lift it just like that. Donât lose that hold, and pinch the back of the arrow, behind the feathers, with your knuckles.âÂ
Raising the bow, youâre so concentrated on keeping the arrow in place that it shocks you how hard it is to pull the bowstring. The further back you pull it, the more force it demands from you. You only manage to bring it halfway before you stop. âWoah.âÂ
Wind stops brushing your cheeks and hair so hard, and Taehyunâs voice comes from right beside you this time. âHarder than you thought itâd be, huh?â he says, smirk in his voice matching the one you find on his mouth when you turn to look at him. âItâs going to be hard for a while. Youâve got to build up the muscle for it. For now, you just have to power through it.âÂ
You try again, finding the spot where your muscles protest and then going beyond it. Your arms tremble, some spot in the middle of your chest aching with it. You sift through the trees, rushing to find one to release the arrow on before you can no longer maintain the hold.Â
âStand straighter.â He reaches over to adjust your arm, pulling the string-wielding one even further back and forcing your chest further open. Your arms burn. Youâre not sure how much longer you can hold like this.Â
âHurry,â you say.Â
âGo ahead.âÂ
Deciding on the nearest tree, you let the string go from between aching fingertips. It misses and passes the tree to land somewhere in the foliage behind it, but not as awfully as youâd expected. Hissing, you shake out your arms and stretch your shoulders to try and kill the burn, but it lingers. âYou made that look a lot easier than it really is,â you tell him.Â
âMy first shot looked a lot like that,â he says, leaned back into a tree. âThat was a great first try. I shouldâve had you on the bow earlier.â He motions to the bow. âShow me another one.âÂ
Arms still ringing, you sloppily repeat. None of the arrows meet their mark, and you get worse with each. Youâd done so well with the first one, though. Frustration sparks in your chest, catching into a flame when this one misses as well. The cramping in your shoulders and the gnawing of frost at your fingers do not help your temper. âGuess that was beginnerâs luck,â you say, jaw tense. âI canât shoot for shit, now.âÂ
Pushing himself off the tree, Taehyun approaches you once more and says, âIt helps if you breathe out before letting the arrow go, but itâs mostly that your arms are tired. Today isnât about aim, itâs about repetition.â Now in front of you, his eyes dart down to your mouth, but itâs a split-second look. Youâd have missed it with a blink. You want to ask him why he keeps looking at you like thatâlike how he had in your bed that one night. You donât want to make the air awkward, though. Â
To be more honest with yourself, youâre afraid to ask. Youâre afraid what the answer might be; you have donât even have the foggiest clue. âMaybe we should go back. Iâll just stick with what I know.âÂ
âSo, youâll just give it up when it gets hard?â he says, a little ticked off. A muscle in his jaw feathers. Â
You wonder what heâs thinking, beyond just what heâs saying. What he feels beyond what heâll let you see. The reason that Taehyun dropped the spy life the moment youâd told him youâd stay here with Yeonjun is still just as elusive to you. Youâre no foolâyouâd seen the look that passed over his face when you had. It had brought a chill down your spine, something hollow but also desperate. Taehyun does not seem like the type taken to puppy love. He does not seem like the type to follow whims, either. So, what is this? Youâre unsure what to make of it, and what to make of him.
You two had been snapping teeth and blazing arguments, but what lays beneath that? Why does the impenetrable man let you get under his skin the way he does?Â
âYes,â you say, just to ruffle some feathers. âIâll just keep working on swordplay.âÂ
He catches the bait. âThen, what are we out here for? I thought close combat was bothering you.â Flakes of fluffy snow sit on his hair, white petals against black. âAnd, it doesnât hurt to diversify your skillset. Not with a war looming.âÂ
Frustration gives way to softness. Taehyun doesnât have to be out here. He has no obligations to help you with your ridiculous, pitiful dreams. Youâre thankful for it, no matter how rugged he comes across while doing it. âIâm just messing with you. You make it too easy,â you say, offering him a smile. Beneath it, youâre left reeling with the reminder about the war. In your choosing to omit it from your thoughts, youâd just about forgotten about it. Anxiety comes crashing back through the crumbling dam. By now, the King has absolutely realized that Yeonjun is not coming back. Does he think that the north has hurt him or holds him hostage? He might start the war himself, then. A thought dawns upon you. That mightâve been the intention all alongâto have him start things, to remain faultless. Taehyun had said that the Queen is a scheming sovereign.Â
âWar,â you say, licking over chapped lips. âDo you think itâll really happen? That itâll come to battles?â You canât help worrying. Youâve chosen your side in staying here. What if that was the wrong choice? What if your betrayal comes around to bite you? Or, what if the northâs reputation for brutality ends up doing the job before it ever can? You feel surrounded by deathâsurrounded by walls of violence, where too far in one direction would be your end. âItâs not as if Iâll be fighting, though.âÂ
Face solemn, he says, âLetâs start heading back.âÂ
That draws no complaints from you, tucking fingers under your arms to try and save them. He hadnât answered your question, though. âTaehyun?âÂ
Brittle leaves and brush crunch underfoot. âItâs coming.âÂ
Narrowing your eyes at him, tensed in the shoulders, you ask, âWhy are you acting like that? Are you hiding something from me?âÂ
The both of you pause to let a dryad scurry off, snow falling off its bark skin in chunks as it crashes through the forest and away from you. These woods are a lot fuller than the ones youâd found Beomgyu in.Â
âTaehyun,â you repeat. Your stomach is sick. Skin burning, you get flashes of memoriesâof Yeonjunâs guilty eyes that night. It rushes through your bloodstream like icy water. This feels like an overreaction, but your body does not align with your stuttering heart. You canât tamp it down. âWhat is it? I donât like secrets.â Your voice comes out fragile, like itâll break in the frigid air like ice and fall down to the ground in a crash.Â
His face is hard. You donât like that, either.Â
âYouâre not going to be fighting, but I know what is planned. Itâs messy; messy and dirty. And dirty wars are not afraid of collateral damage.âÂ
Frowning, you ask, âHow do you know whatâs planned?âÂ
âItâs a generalâs job to know the war he leads his army into.âÂ
You stop dead. âAre you serious?â you snap, voice on a tight leash. âSeriously, Taehyun?â He keeps walking, forcing you to tear your feet from their spot to follow him. Jogging to match his stride, you say, âSo, youâre just going to take up his will? Youâre going to lead a war, like him? What about me, Taehyun? What happens to me?â Â
It seems that heâs fully taken over his role as heir to his father and his estate, but why? Why, if he sheared off his own ears to escape that legacy? Taehyunâs moral code has exceptions for violence, but he said it himselfâhe doesnât like senseless killing. Not like what would come with taking on this role. Â
âBeing general secures me a seat while they discuss their plans. It means I have sway in what happens. This is not for my enjoyment, or for power, like how my father saw it,â he says, measured and steady. âYouâve not seen a Faerie war. Theyâre given to dramatics, and they span... they span long. If something is going to happen, itâs better off that Iâm in the room that they discuss it. Otherwise, weâre just sitting here and crossing out fingers that we donât get caught in the crossfire.â Head held high, he adds, âThis is my duty.âÂ
Anxiety warms your frozen bones. âDuty?â you say through a caustic laugh. âYouâll be going to war, Taehyun.âÂ
âNot petty battles. If something more drastic happens, I suppose I would, but being a foot soldier is not my role in this. Maybe my father wouldâve, just to see the blood and carnage, but not me,â he says, as if that makes it any better.Â
âI donât like this.âÂ
âThey know we were here as spies. They could decide at any moment to kill us. As general, my position would protect us.â He levels you a stare, hard. âYou decided to stay here for him, so this is what I have to do.âÂ
A terrible sickness settles in your stomach with his words. These are the consequences to your actions, for your overenthusiasm, but you feel more like a burden than sorry for yourself. Â
You want to tell him to stop paying the prices; that itâs not his job, but a chilly breeze sings in your ears that itâs much too late for that. Â
 â
Biting back complaints and the prickling of tears, you let Conifer work on your hair. Sheâs merciless with the tugs and pins, fingers threading through strands to tug them up into the frilly and loose updo. Â
âWhy do I need to be dressed?â you ask her, watching her work dutifully behind you through the mirror.Â
âMy Lady,â she says around a pin she holds in between her lips. âOne moment.âÂ
âYou donât have to call me Lady, or anything,â you tell her, wincing at the sound of it. âIâm no more a Lady than you.â Sheâd come into your room, nervously plucking at the pine needles on her forearms as she informed you that she needed to get you prettied up. Itâs random, but youâd perked up immediately. Itâs been so long since youâve done anythingâso long since you had a reason to look pretty and drag on glittering dresses. Not doing the work yourself is strange, though. You wonder if this is what your life wouldâve been with Yeonjun, with servants waiting at every corner to pamper you and make sure that your hands never again see any type of hard work. Â
You shake those thoughts away. Thatâs not your life here in Taehyunâs estate. It does you no use comparing. Youâre not so used to this, anyway. It gets under your skin a bit, though you know theyâre working off debts in his service. Â
âOh, the Lord would prefer that I do,â she says. A sharp pin scrapes up against your scalp as she pushes it in, securing up a willowy tress. All Yeonjunâs giftsâthe dress sheâd laid out for you, and the jewels she garnishes you in. How strange is it to have Taehyunâs servants dressing you in Yeonjunâs things? You still donât know why he even bothered with bringing them in. You all were managing before. It's not as if any of you are the type to demand being waited on, anyway. You all have lived in more humble means. Beomgyu literally comes from the forest. And, why would it even matter how she addresses you to Taehyun?Â
It wouldnât be fair of you to demand her to call you otherwise, then. You nod. âIâm sorry you have to work for me.âÂ
âOh, itâs no bother, dear. Iâm grateful that the Lord has chosen such a way for me to pay him for my debt.â She tugs a few tendrils loose. It looks now more like the style is worn in by a good night spent dancing and laughing than freshly combed up. âThere are worse ways to do so.âÂ
Thatâs right. For her, servitude is only a result of some extrenuating circumstance. Your servitude was nowhere near your fault. Thatâs where the difference lies; why she can be so blithe about it.Â
âWhat happened?â you ask. Itâs an invasive question, sure, but you prefer to ask it straight. No buttering it up or smoothing over words.Â
âThe late General spared my life on a whim. Iâd worked this estate for years, even watched the boy grow into his manhood, until the General passed and the young Lord went disappearing. No reason to work an empty estate. And now, by bloodline, my debt is owed to him.âÂ
You frown. Serving under Taehyunâs father, only because he decided out of the kindness of his heart to not murder you, sounds harrowing. Â
âBut, thatâs of no importance, dear. The Lord is expecting you; the Queen holds council soon.â Hastily, Conifer slides one last pin in, just for safe measure. âItâs terribly important that you maintain good manners, dear. Stay by the Lord, and do not speak unless they speak to you.âÂ
Council? Heâs expecting you to come with him to a war council? You pause, but she ushers you up and away.Â
Bounding down the stairs in a flurry of feet, you hold your skirts in a death grip, heart clenching with nerves. Once, youâd been a mirror to thisâpanicking over attending Court for the first time. That was nothing. If you had been oblivious to Court propriety, sitting in on a Faerie council in the presence of the Queen and her entourage... Youâre screwed. So, so screwed.Â
Taehyun waits beside the blackthorn tree. Noticing you, he greets, âReady?âÂ
âYouâre serious about this?â you say. Itâs hard to speak around the lump in your throat. âWhy do I have to come? It seems more like a risk than anything.âÂ
Brows furrowed, he adjusts his tunic. âYouâre smart, arenât you?â he says, cadence flat and matter-of-fact. âItâs not a risk. Iâm bringing you so that they know youâre with me. You wonât have to come to any more after this, unless itâs what you want.âÂ
Frowning, you say, âI feel as though theyâll react not so kindly to a human just... waltzing into a war council. You really think theyâll just let me come and sit in?â The Queen will be there, and all the terrifyingly massive players in the Unseelie Court, and then... You. Youâll just have to make yourself seem important enough to be there. Taehyun is one of those invaluable players now, you suppose. The General. Your mind still struggles to wrap itself around the enormity of that. Â
Will Yeonjun be there? Heâs no doubt got the status. You pick at your fingers viciously. Youâre not ready to see him again; not sure if youâve fortified your walls enough for that yet. You might crumple with just a glance, but to sit in the same room as him?Â
âTheyâll trust my judgement,â he says. The lines of his face do not carry the same confidence that his voice does. âYouâre not just stumbling in. Youâre walking in with me.âÂ
âBut, Iâm sure theyâre all very aware by now that we were spies. Doesnât that leave a stain on your word?âÂ
He reaches up to a low-hanging branch, dark and bristling with thorns, and snaps off the very ends of them into thin poles of twig armed with spikes. The thistles remind you of his eyesâin fact, the whole tree does. Barbed and dark and sturdy; the House of Blackthorn could not have better chosen their symbol. Â
âThey made me their general,â he says, circling until heâs come behind you. âTheyâve already made up their minds.âÂ
Tugging at your hair tells you that heâs wiggling those sticks, black and sharp, into the updo, as if theyâre accessories. Itâs like what heâd done with those berries just before youâd gone to Court for the first time, but these twigs do not act like a ward like they had. Â
You turn to interrogate him and his sudden interest in your hairstyle, but confusion splinters off into nothing when his cold hand brushes at the back of your neck. In a heart-pounding moment, his sword-roughened fingers drag down the length of your jaw from behind. He grabs your chin his hand and turns your face further toward your shoulder. Snowflakes and the breeze and the stars all stand frozen around you. Or, maybe, you havenât got the will to pretend they exist while heâs leaning down so that heâs right in your ear and whispering with puffed breaths that raise chills on your skin.Â
Under his breath, low and just for your ears, he says just one word. Itâs one that you donât recognize, curling in a way that you doubt your tongue would be able to even pronounce. As quickly as the moment had come, he releases your face. Snow crunches under his feet as he retreats.Â
Blinking for a moment, you spin on your heel to follow him. You make a point to not catch his stride fully, though. He absolutely should not see how ruffled you are. âWhat does that mean?âÂ
He doesnât answer, only leaving you in a flustered, charged silence. You beg the wintry breeze to carry away your racing thoughts, or at least to lick at your cheeks and cool them. Whatever it was that heâd said, you can only assume it to be in an ancient Faerie tongue.Â
With a stuttering heart, you follow him. Youâll just have to whistle in the dark. If you donât do it scared, you wonât do it at all, and youâre always scared.Â
â
Inside the council room, a handful of who you assume to be the Queenâs most important advisors sit around a circle table. On that table stand war maps and a collection of letters and objects no doubt important to plans and intel.Â
In one of those seats sits Yeonjun. Of course, heâs here. Youâd anticipated as much, but that doesnât change the way you jump right out of your skin the split second your eyes meet. Itâs a fiery exchange, sending sparks up your spin and rendering your mind a blistering mess. His eyes are hard. He doesnât shy away from it the way you do, tearing yourself away to sit in the seat next to Taehyunâs. Â
Itâs not just Yeonjunâs eyes that burn on your skin. Theyâre wondering why youâre here. You itch to dip out and away from their scrutiny.Â
âDo I have to say anything?â you say, voice barely anything but a whisper as you lean over to Taehyun. âLike, announce myself or anything?âÂ
âNot now,â he says. âNot unless youâre asked to.âÂ
Fidgeting with your dress under the table, you dip your head in a shallow, quick nod. Youâll just mind your own, unless youâre forced to do otherwise. You canât risk saying something thatâll end up screwing you both over.Â
Chairs scrape the floor, faeries standing and dipping at the waist. You follow them. Your back is to the door, but you donât need to see to know whoâs arrived. The Queen.Â
She sits in her seat, at the head of the table, and everybody else follows. You swallow hard. Her eyes, hardened and storm-colored, pin each of the attendees as she sweeps the room. A diadem of twigs and rotted leaf lays on her tangle of hair. The Unseelie Queen; she looks the part. Breath catches in your throat when her eyes come to you.Â
When she opens her mouth to speak, jagged teeth reveal themselves from behind grey lips. âThe human girl. Does the Blackthorn house claim her?â she asks. Her voice commands the airâboth slackened and imposing.Â
Yeonjunâs eyes bare down on you. Â
Taehyun answers her. âYes. She is my retinue.âÂ
One of the council members, with a haughty, long face and a sneer to match it, says, âIs this the girl that you sang so profusely to us for, prince? The spy girl?â His ruffled sleeves flourish as he gestures. Heâs dressed especially plummy among them, but they all are dressed in glittering robes and tunics. This faerie no doubt thinks highly of himself, though, to be poking at Yeonjun. Â
Yeonjun had spoken of you here? Â
You feel a little frozen. Becoming the center of their attention is the very last thing youâd wanted. Rather than sinking back into your seat, you claw at your insides to keep your head held high. You do exchange a quick glance with Taehyun, whoâs mouth is pulled taut. Â
He takes it in stride. âYes, it is.âÂ
âYou beseeched us for her safety, but...â the black-haired faerie continues, âSheâs sat beside our General.â A cruel smile plays on his lips. He knows exactly what heâs doing. âAnd I believe it to be unprecedented that a human joins us here, your highness.â He turns to the Queen, a smile that tells exactly of the game heâs playing.Â
âNot here,â the Queen snaps. âWe havenât the time for this. Who cares. Letâs not waste what slight time we have, with all of us in attendance.âÂ
The black-haired faerie snaps his mouth shut, but a nasty attitude lingers.Â
Another speaks up. âYour majesty, is there not something to be said of the exclusivity pertaining to who we meet here with?âÂ
She drums her fingers on the arm of her seat. Bored. âBe gone with it. I did not know youâd become so wary of humans.âÂ
That stings. Youâre not even worthy of being a threat. Jaw tightened, you grit your teeth.Â
âShe has ears,â he says. âAnd a well-working mouth, Iâm sure, and we have delicate issues to discuss.âÂ
None of them press any further as she sends them a pointed stare. They begin offering up and discussing their positions and knowledge, much of it lost on you. All youâre thankful for is that most of it is bickering over how to approach the war, and not plans for full-fledged schemes. Â
Taehyun offers up his approach a few times, his voice carrying strong and his shoulders squared. Yeonjun does not speak much at all. Â
And when itâs over and everybody disassembles, you know youâve got to leave. Fast; fast enough that Yeonjun will not be able to corner you into a conversation that you are too flimsy to be having. As you do, though, you war against every instinct in your bodyâheart and feet and arms ringing pleas in your bones. You canât. Really, you canât.Â
âPretty.â Â
That voice, smooth but also so very sullen now, shatters your frenzied bubble. You go solid and frozen to the ground.Â
âPretty, look at me,â he grits out, voice cracked down and raw. Â
When you donât, he steps around you. His eyes dart up, taking in something on your head, and then his jaw ticks when he finds something he doesnât like. The blackthorn twigs in your hair.Â
Heâd looked sullen and detached when sitting at the table, but here, up close, he looks awfulâfar and beyond worse than youâve ever seen him. Itâs as if youâd ripped the heart right out of his chest and asked him to go on living without it. In the hollowness thereâs a sadness, but thereâs also a blazing anger.Â
A frozen hand takes your upper arm and tugs hard. âCome on. Weâre leaving.â Taehyunâs voice is hard.Â
You stumble forward with him, summoning the will within you to not look back while you do. You do not want to watch his face as you leave. You absolutely cannot. Your gut twists viciously. Â
Youâre pathetic, missing him the way you do.Â
â
When you get the first letter, you accept it from the servant uneasily. You donât even ask whose letter it is. The wax seal tells you enough, but youâd know even without it. Yeonjun has broken his silence.Â
It confuses you. Taehyun had intercepted his letters when he sent them before. Why does he not bother, now? It doesnât feel like a kindness. It feels intentionalâlike a gambit. Beomgyu had made a point to take those original letters from you. You know he meant well in the cheeky way that he shows his companionship, but youâre spineless after all, and they come at a very weak moment. Just as youâve built up wavering pillars, he reaches in and crumbles them down as if they were nothing. Â
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đŽđđđđżđđÂ
Youâre able to let this one roll off your shoulders, but the next few are not so easy.Â
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đđ. đŻâđŸđ đčđđđ đâđĄ đđđč. Â
đŽđđđđżđđÂ
The letters change with your prolonged silence, too.Â
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đđđđđŸđđąđ đĄâđŸđ đđ¶đđŸđâđđđđ đŸđ đđđą đđđđ, đđđ đđđđ đđœđ¶đ đđ đđŸđđ đđ đđđđđâđđ đ¶đđ¶đŸđ. đŒđĄ'đ đđđđ đđ¶đđ, đ¶đđč đâđ đ¶đ đŒ đđ đđđčđčđđ đ€đŸđĄâ đđ¶đĄđ? Â
đŽđđđđżđąđÂ
Itâs jarring, itâs more of that desperate pleading that youâve been trying so hard to escape, and itâs burrowing deep down into the tender parts of your heart like a stake.Â
There are some letters that are even more frenzied than that. Theyâre testaments to his promises: this doesnât end.Â
You had been sorely mistaken in thinking that Yeonjun would just step away. Terribly mistaken. Deep in your belly brews the feeling that this is not going to go over as smoothly as you hoped it would. In retrospect, how had you ever thought you could cleanly tear him off you? This is not like ripping off a bandageâquick and painfulâno, this will be much, much more unpleasant than that. Yeonjun had done a delicate job of veiling just how wretchedly he loves you, but youâd seen peeks of it. Flickers and moments of potent neediness and jealousy, quickly smoothed over with something more groomed and palatable. Now, you see it in full force. As soon as given the need to unveil himself, he was not afraid to. As long as it brings him you.Â
But he will not get you. Youâre not yet so foolish to go falling back into his arms. Not after youâd done just that, and then learned what trusting him just based off his inability to lie meant. Itâs not as if youâre not already slowly wanting to forgive him for the fact that his initial job was to kill you. In weak moments, you construct excuses. But if you brush off lie after lie, where is the limit to the lies youâll accept, if only just for him? There would be none. That is a dangerous beast to toe. Â
You think you know now, why Taehyun lets you read those letters freely. Â
 â
Lifting your fist to knock on the door, you bounce on your heels. Taehyun tells you to come in, voice muffled behind the door.Â
Stepping in, you drink in the sight of his quarters. Not once in the months that youâve spent here have you been in his room. In the center is the bed, bedding coal black. His desk is cluttered with maps and stray daggers. Taehyun works on the strap to his leather baldric, looking up to you. Â
âWhere are you going?â you ask him. Â
âThey called me for council,â Taehyun answers. He straightens up. âWhatâs up?âÂ
You purse your lips. âOh,â you say. âNothing. I was just seeing what you were up to.âÂ
Honestly, youâre not entirely sure why youâd stumbled in here. It had just felt right in that moment. It couldnât hurt to try and mend the tensions that lay between you two, anyway. If this is going to be your home, itâs better off that way.Â
Taehyun nods slowly, as if heâs not entirely sure what to say. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.Â
A smile tugs at your mouth. Beneath the confident, hardened exterior, Taehyun is stiff in the face of emotional connection. âDidnât want me to join you for this one?âÂ
He shakes his head, the lines in his shoulders stiffening as if the thought were offensive.Â
Scoffing around a laugh, you say, âI didnât do that bad, did I?â Itâs more to pester him than offenseâyouâd had your fill. And you want to know whatâs changed; why heâs suddenly averse to you joining. Â
Jaw shifting, he says, âNo, you didnât.â Taehyun brings his hand up and adjusts his collar. âIâd just prefer it.âÂ
You change tack. His face has fallen a bit, and youâd intended to lighten things up. âItâs fine. That was boring anyway,â you say, âBesides, Iâd prefer it here, with the army of servants waiting to see to my needs.â Tilting your head to one side, you give him a grin chock-full of mock pretension.Â
His brow furrows. âThe servants? Do you not like it?âÂ
Shrugging, you answer, âI donât hate it. Itâs nice to have help getting ready, though, I guess. Makes me feel special.â To quell your own gnawing curiosity thatâs been festering beginning the moment the first one had arrived, you add, âWhyâd you do it, though?âÂ
His face flickers. âThe estate needs to be run. They have duty to do so. If it were going to be anybody, itâs them.âÂ
You know that look. Living with Taehyun, youâve got to become fluent in the face and even the most subtle changes. What he doesnât speak in words, youâre forced to find there. Try as he might to fortify his mask, water will always find and slip through the cracks as slivers of true emotion crack through his face. Heâs not telling you the truth. You narrow your eyes.Â
âYeah. I understand that. I just thought we were doing fine before, I guess.âÂ
âI thought...â he says. âDid the prince not keep servants?âÂ
Your frown deepens. Why would it matter whether or not Yeonjun has servants? Of course heâd have attendants; heâs a prince of Faerie. Mind churning for a moment, you stumble upon a thought. Or rather, it stumbles upon you.Â
Taehyun had brought servants here because he figured that, because of your time with Yeonjun, youâd want that. It bothered him to think that Yeonjun could provide something for you that he couldnât. Heâd gone out and tracked down faeries indebted to him and his father because that got under his skin. You think to that morning heâd woken you up, spitting venom, because Yeonjun had sent you those dresses. And in his arm, heâd held a single crystalline gown.Â
âTaehyun, why did you tell Yeonjun about our kiss?âÂ
For a split second, heâs taken aback, shifting as though youâd lit a fire under his feet. The air hangs heavyâso, so thick. Itâs so stiff that you have to breathe with conscious effort. This silence, tense and on the brink of snapping, stretches for an eternity. Your mind reels; youâre just as caught off guard as him. You havenât the faintest clue where youâd trudged up the nerve, but you had, and now youâre terribly curious to know his answer. The memory had hovered around, blazing and impossible to brush off, from the very moment the words had tumbled out from Yeonjunâs lips. How had you even lasted this long, pretending it hadnât happened? All off that electric curiosity comes to a head hereânowâand you do not know if youâve prepared well enough for the truth of it.Â
As silent as it is, the moment buzzes. Itâs deafeningly loud, just as it is deafeningly quiet. His silence answers just as well as words. Â
His answer slices the air, cutting through the tension like a scalding knife. âThe prince told you that?âÂ
You step toward him, looking up at him through your lashes. âHe did," you say, quick and dismissive. âWhy did you tell him? When?âÂ
A flashâa flash of something untamed and deep like the woodsârenders his eyes dark. You remember that look; heâd scarcely let you see it. It had scrawled under your skin the first time he had. Something in it strips you down to your very bones, where you are nothing more than buzzing soul and heat. Taehyun approaches you in dark, languid steps. Youâre lightheaded, breaths lodged deep in your chest. Any semblance of clarity you might have had becomes a lost cause as he takes your face in his hands and leaves you no other option than to meet those smoldering eyes. Bitterly cold hands bite into the soft skin of your cheeks. Cold-blooded.Â
Your head spins. âTaehyun?â you say, short and breathless. Even just a naked whisper of his name, you struggled to manage it. Him, here, in front of you, is both so real that it rattles you down to you core and so intangible that you wouldnât dare believe it. And yet, blistering eyes pierce through the mist, and you know that it is sickeningly real. Â
âFuck,â he says, mouth turned down and at war with the rest of his face. Heâs so close that you feel the word on your face. âI donât know whatâs wrong with me.â His throat bobs. âI donât know who this is.âÂ
In a stumble of clumsy feet, you clash with the desk in a rattle. Thereâs hardly any perch for you, but in a scramble, you curl your fingers white-knuckled around the edge. He has you pinned between him and the wood with nowhere to breathe and nowhere to think. A controlled, shaky breath comes tumbling from behind your lips. Electricity crackles in the air between you, and youâre weak to it. You turn your head away, clawing for some semblance of control or respite from the bare intensity.Â
Despite your shock, somewhere deep, deep down in your belly, you know that this is only the fruit of some howling storm that has been swirlingâswirling and churning and gaining power. Youâd felt the trembling of it, the promise of something explosive and imminent, as oblivious as you were to its source. Now, the ground cracks open beneath you, and it will accept nothing other than to swallow you whole.Â
âDo you not think of me as a man?â he grits out. Since youâve decided to blatantly avoid his gaze, he gets down right into your neck. âWell, I am. And you brought him here. Brought him into my home, and you let him touch you. âÂ
Taehyun had been there that day. Â
Itâs as if time itself slows down around you. This moment inflates into something infinite. Everything that heâd done, every little thing that youâd struggled to digest, is laid out before you. Heâs holding your hips as if youâll fade around the edges and leave him here. Thereâs something raw beneath the growled words; something desperate.Â
Belly flipping ruthlessly, you speak, but theyâre not coherent thoughts. âI... didnât think that...âÂ
Heâs quick to cut you off, rearing back to look you in the eyes once more, forcing you to do the same. And he holds you there. âDo you think that he can provide for you better than me? That I canât provide you your needs?âÂ
Your heart is a ravenous, wild thing in your chest. All that heâd done: the dress, the servants, finding Beomgyu, staying here in the north, demanding that you donât depend or even associate with Yeonjun, urging you to not attend Court because he knew Yeonjun would be thereâwas because it was supposed to be him. And it was killing him because finally something had managed to drive right through that suit of ice armor he struggles so hard to keep up, right down to where his real emotions slumber, and he is forced to feel something. In all that banishing emotion away, heâs now faced with this blazing consumption, and he is utterly lost.Â
Taehyun curses, a relenting of his will, before heâs taking your lips to his. Itâs a ravaging, fervent meeting, clashing teeth and roaming hands with no destination. He lifts you up onto the desk, and then his hand finds the hair at the very back of your head. You remember this wild dance of tongue and mouthâthe first time heâd put his mouth on you, itâd been just the same. Youâre gasping and clawing at his shoulders. Â
What on earth are you doing?Â
His hands are all over you. Itâs as if he canât get enough, as if heâs catching up to all that had been bursting at the seams in his mind. His lips taste like finally. When heâs forced to release your lips for air, itâs not as if he gives you any real room to breatheâhis lips fall like glowing ashes down the column of your neck. Youâre helpless to the whines he takes from your lips. He melds your bodies into one clumsy thing, pushing you down into the desk in a clumsy clatter. He wholly overwhelms you, and you think that it is a conscious effort. He intends to wiggle his way into every little corner, every little space, until you have no room for thought but him. If the drunken haze thatâs rendered your thoughts sluggish is anything to speak of his efforts, heâs succeeded.Â
You catch yourself halfway down, before your back makes it down onto the desk. His mouth is back on yours, spinning with the sting of your scalp as he guides you through his kiss. His hands reach your upper thigh, making slow work of bunching the fabric.Â
âIf you knew,â he says, appreciating the bare skin as if it were as precious as jewel and gold the same way he had that night in your bed: as if every inch were just as intimate as a glimpse of your cunt. âIf you knew what I think about doing to you.â Â
Blood roars beneath your skin. The confession that Taehyun has thought about touching you like this, or the fact that heâs been battling against his own mind in the onslaught of those thoughts, sheds a new light over so much. Beneath that stony face, heâd been needing you. Â
Through the licking of your bottom lip and the buzzing behind your skull, you see Yeonjunâs face. Your stomach does a flip. Youâre not supposed to feel guilty. You shouldnât, but guilt slices like a molten dagger through the haze. How can you be here, doing this, when heâs out there aching for you? As far as you distance yourself from his sphere, youâre still reminded of who taught you your body now that another man touches you. You imagine how hurt heâd be if he saw you now.Â
You rage against those thoughts. You owe no guilt to the man that had only ever approached you because you were his target.Â
Taehyunâs gaze meets yours. You mustâve gone quiet, or maybe still. Perhaps itâs your eyes that gives it away, though, because he does not like what he finds in them. In a blink, heâs retracting back into his shell. Â
âYouâre thinking of him,â he spits. His voice is so caustic and venomous as it falls out that your skin burns. âEven while Iâm touching you.âÂ
You want nothing more than to reach in and pull that fire and raw emotion back out. He pulls away. Your skin is painfully empty of his touch. Chest aching, you say, âTaehyun, wait. Please. I wasnât.â The lie rolls off your tongue too easily, but you canât stand the chill fallen over your form.Â
His face is far off and distant, his jaw set tight. He runs a hand through his hair, made a mess with your touch, the action punctuated by a barbed laugh.Â
He doesnât even say anything more to you when he leaves the room. He just leaves. You sit for a few minutes, legs dangling and blood roaring. Â
Taehyun has kept a lot beneath a jaded and aloof front, but it seems that even he has a tipping point. Â
â
âThat reeks,â Beomgyu says. Heâs sat on the basin, legs dangling down.Â
The water embraces you in a delightful lukewarm that disarms your nerves and has you drowsy. âSoap?â you say with a subsequent rich snort. You scoot, bathwater lapping at the walls of the tub when you bring your knees to your chest. The round tub is big enough for you to sprawl out, but you prefer sitting right up against the wall. Only the suds and perfumed oils sitting in a thin, hazy film on top of the water protect your decency from Beomgyuâs eyes. With the servants insisting on helping you wash, though, youâve become indifferent to bathing in front of others. Itâs not as if youâve got to worry about him leering, anyway. He doesnât blink at your nakedness. You appreciate the company. âIt smells clean. You know, so you donât smell like straight mud.âÂ
âMud is not such an offensive smell as that,â he says, nose crinkling. âYou lather yourself in smells that are wholly unbelievable.âÂ
Laughing, you feign sending a spray of water droplets his way. âWell,â you muse, âWe are not hewn from the same stone. We have to clean ourselves.â While your worldly body demands that you maintain hygiene with soap and water, the folk wash for leisure. You donât bemoan it, though. Itâs your realityâalways will beâand you delight in coming out feeling fresh. âAnd your earthy... musk... is just as terrible to me as this is to you. So...âÂ
âAgree to disagree.â He sits still. Beomgyu is always eerily stillâyouâve come to the realization that itâs because he doesnât breathe. No rising or falling of his chest meant he could sit in absolute repose. Youâre not entirely used to it, even now. How could anything be a living, talking being, without breath? There he sits, though. Â
Echoes of your washing fill the room. You sigh. With each scrub, you imagine carving away both any dirtiness and any heavy thoughts. It doesnât work, of course. You feel no less heavy. If only it were that easy.Â
âTaehyun is general now,â you say, frown tugging at your face. âFor the Queen.â Remembering it makes you feel impossibly heavier. It had been a secretive move, but still... He had become the one thing that has haunted him for you. His words yesterday said as much. You buzz at that memory, heart racing at just the memory. It had been a battle pretending your first kiss hadnât happened, but this was different. Terribly different.Â
You blink, trying to bring yourself together when Beomgyu says, huffing out a humorless laugh, âHe is only his fatherâs son.âÂ
Sighing, you sink lower into the water. The kelpie wouldnât be himself without some snide remark in Taehyun or his fatherâs expense. You know why heâd done it, now, but youâre awful and canât help but consider what him being general might mean. Taehyun has a strict moral code; you donât think heâll go around killing in cold blood. Still, in order to retain his standing, heâll have to carry out the councilâs will. Itâs a slippery slope; you fear the heâll become the thing heâd once hated at your expense. With a sickened stomach, you hold your knees closer. You donât want that. âHe said it was to make sure weâre no longer targets. You know, since we came here as spies and all that,â you say, voice softening as thoughts grow louder.Â
Agitated, Beomgyu slips off the basin. âWhy would he have bothered with finding me, then, if he had already made other plans?âÂ
Spinning water with a finger and watching it swirl, you say, âI know for a fact itâs why he did it. Itâs just that I donât like it. I mean, getting involved in the war is one thing. We were already involved to some degree, anyway. Becoming the general is a whole other thing.âÂ
A wicked delight crackles across Beomgyuâs face, and you brace yourself for whatever has excited him so. âIf you would deign it with your word... We could be gone from this estate. Anywhere that pleases us, free from the fool.âÂ
âOf course,â you say, rolling your eyes and watching him pace the floor. âItâs always dramatics with you. Weâre not running away. Good try, though.âÂ
He pauses, grimacing down at you. You suppress a laugh. Maybe you couldâve entertained his grand plan. At least, for a moment. Your fingers have pruned up, but you have no will to drag yourself from the warmth. Let you just stay like this, cocooned in its welcoming arms, for a bit longer. Then, youâll find it within you to face the memory of Taehyunâs hands and the gravity of what heâd let slip.Â
â
Dust motes flutter when caught in the light. You, with bare feet padding on the chilly morning floors, plow right through them. A clattering, so lively in the still sleep-ridden estate, floats out from the kitchens. You follow it.Â
Beomgyu stands, lanky and strange as always, watching a servant work dutifully on a meal. You frown. Itâs a bit early for any of your usual meals.Â
âHanging around in the kitchen? Thought you didnât eat,â you say. Â
He gives you a distracted grumble. âI can eat. I just donât need to.âÂ
An eye roll slips. âThatâs even worse. You asked for a meal to be made for you, just so that you can taste it,â you say, hand on your hip. âVery inconsiderate.âÂ
Disconcertment lines his face at that, looking back over at the servant. âI did not ask for a meal.âÂ
âYeah... Okay. Anyway, do you know where Taehyun has gone? Out?âÂ
Beomgyu shakes his head. âNo, I donât believe heâs gone anywhere,â he says, eyeing you. âYouâre searching for the Lord?âÂ
âI mean, I was just wondering where he is. I didnât see him around, or anything.âÂ
âOh, pull your stake from my heart,â he grumbles and scratches at his neck. âI fear youâve abandoned me in my loathing, with who else am I to escape this place? â he says. Â
âThere you go again,â you say, relenting to conversation. Conversation with Beomgyu makes you feel lighter. âIf we ran away, weâd make it like... a week.âÂ
He cocks his head to the side. âYouâd last a week. Iâd be just fine.âÂ
âOh, you think so?â you scoff. âAnd where would we go?âÂ
Now, heâs really riled up, throwing his arms up, exasperated. âTo the forest,â he deadpans. âI... come from the forest. Of course Iâd go to the forest.âÂ
Mouth pulled into a grin that you know will irk him, you say, âSounds like a nice place. For you. You just want to get out of here, you donât care about what happens to me. Iâm hurt. This is supposed to be our escape plan, not Beomgyuâs.âÂ
He likes that, lips curling at the corners. âWell, I pride myself in my cleverness, and itâs not as though Iâll be leaving this rotten place by my own means,â Beomgyu says. Â
âOh, youâre just so clever.â Youâve become too familiar with that impish grinâheâs joking. But you donât doubt for a second that if you were to propose running away, Beomgyu would be elated. He makes the jokes for a reason, anyway. Itâs become a sort of game; him suggesting it, and you shutting it down. âAnd is that why you deign to bless me with your presence? Plotting and scheming?âÂ
âDonât give me your sarcasm,â he huffs. âI deign you with my presence because I ought to. What else should I do?âÂ
âYou love me,â you say, tableware and platters clattering and mingling with the sound of your voice. âI know it.â You drag out the last syllables in a taunting melody.Â
 The servant who had been busy with making the breakfast, a hob you donât really recognize, pokes in to tell you that itâs finished, so you move your conversation over to the table. Pulling out the chair, you eye the plates. Itâs more extravagant than you usually eat here. It reminds you more of Court food or what few meals youâd had with Yeonjun: a honeyed meat and some fire-roasted burdock root. Beside it is a bowlful of salt, but itâs only by yours. You dip your head at the faerie, careful of course not to say thank you. That would mean that the faerie has done you a favor, and then youâd be expected to repay it. A simple gesture works just fine.Â
Beomgyu doesnât sit, nor does he take any interest in eating. Instead, he hovers at the far end of the long table, telling you, âI do not love anything.âÂ
Raising your brows at him, you say, âWhatever.â You salt the bitter root before forking it. âWhat are you so antsy for, anyway? Isnât your whole thing that you sit around in a swamp for the entirety of your existence? Whatâs that, to staying in an estate for a bit? I think that you just like to complain to me.âÂ
He laughs, rocking on his heels. âItâs about free will,â he says, âAnd, maybe I do. Though, isnât it a wonder that you complain to me just as much?âÂ
Youâve finished your plate. âFair.âÂ
Taehyun emerges from a room. Your belly does a little surprised flip. You knew he was still here, but youâd hoped to avoid him. When youâd first arrived here, the estate had felt massive. Now, itâs not so much the same. Â
 He doesnât mention it, though. Instead, he surveys the table, and then his brows knit. âYouâve cooked?âÂ
âNot us. It was being made when I got up. Thereâs some for you, too, though. If youâre hungry.âÂ
His frown deepens, but he nods and wanders off into the kitchen. You understand. Youâd been confused when youâd went into the kitchen to find a meal being made so early. Itâs as if the servant is new and unfamiliar with schedules. Turning to Beomgyu, you say, âAnyway. Would sneaking out for one night appease you?â You push around the last bits of your breakfast, too full to eat anymore. âMaybe you just need to get the thrill out of your system. I have a tree by my window, that might up the ante rather than sneaking out the front door.â You give him a tongue-in-cheek raise of a brow.Â
âWell, I donât think itâs sneaking if you discuss it a room away from who youâre sneaking around,â he answers, picking at the wood of the table. âAnd, no.âÂ
At a crash, you both are whipping your heads toward the doorway. The hob servant is sprawled out on its knees. Taehyunâs face has gone cold, and he holds his sword out at the faerie in a point. Your eyes go wide, and you hop up out of your seat. âWhat are you doing?â you say, taking in the scene. Adrenaline sparkles in your pulse. One second, youâd been enjoying your morning, the next Taehyun has one of his servants at sword point. Itâs whiplash. Â
Despite your initial shock, though, you pull together the piecesâabout the strangeness of the routine, and the unusual meal, and the unfamiliar faerie. You go to share a look with Beomgyu. In the narrow twitch of his eyes, you deduct that heâs come to the same conclusion. And, youâd eaten that whole meal. Â
âFace me.â Taehyun barks out the command, looking down on the hob with a chilling severity.Â
The faerie does slowly, bowing its head to avoid Taehyunâs face in an attempt to placate him. Taehyun says, âWho have you weaseled yourself into my estate for?â His voice carries, strong and unforgiving. It penetrates down to your marrow. Youâre sure the hob feels it worse, though. Thereâs a long few moments with no answer. Either they wonât say it, or they canât. They dip their head further. âIf you think that your silence will earn you a quick death, it will not. Speak now, or give me your hand. Iâll have your fingers.âÂ
âTaehyun,â you say, shooting him a hard stare. âAre you serious?â Your stomach goes nauseous. Youâve seen Taehyun kill before, but a punishment like that, meant to inflict agony... It shocks you.Â
Taehyun looks at you strangely, eyes at war with the rest of him. He says to you, keeping his sword on the hob, âAm I serious? You just ate all of that, who knows if it was poisoned.â Now stood behind the hob, he takes it by the scruff and lines the deadly edge of his sword up to its neck.Â
Your heart does a little trick. You absolutely had eaten that food without question. Why would you question it? It hadnât come to your mind at all that somebody might infiltrate this estate. With Taehyunâs new role, it only makes sense. You donât feel bad, though. Not like when you had been poisoned at The Hovel. Youâd felt that pretty fast and hard. Right now, you feel fine. As much relief as that brings you, it does beg the question: if theyâd come here to do harm, why wouldnât they utilize such a blaring opportunity? The hob had just... made you food.Â
âI have every right to protect my home, and those who live in it.â Taehyun grabs harder, picking the hob up and pressing his sword in closer. The hob squeezes its narrow eyes shut. âItâs my duty.âÂ
Itâs always duty, with Taehyun. The sight of the faerie bracing, knowing that Taehyun will hurt or kill it, worms under your skin. Your fingers strain in trembling fist. You canât handle the awful sight, no matter if the faerie had intended to harm you.Â
You think you know whoâd sent the hob to come and be eyes on the inside of Taehyunâs estate, anyway.Â
Beomgyu scoffs hoarsely from beside you. âI watched the fool make it. Sheâs not fallen sick, had she?â His bored eyes shine with distaste. "You, general, just miss the taste of blood on your tongue. You miss it dearly, I know. Itâs a terrible hunger to have.â He exchanges the word Lord with one that you can acknowledge hits as a much lower blow, considering his past. Beomgyu would never miss the opportunity to remind Taehyun that from which he comes from. To that regard, you are thankful for not knowing who your parents are. No matter where you end up, at least youâve had the power to mold your own legacy. Taehyunâs follows him, grim and stained red. Â
âTaehyun, canât you just make an exception this once? Beomgyuâs right. If theyâd have wanted us hurt, they had a pretty good opportunity to. But, they didnât.â You flex your fingers hoping to expel some nerves and step closer to where heâs stood. Making a point to catch his eyes and hold them hostage, you add, âWeâd be hypocrites to kill for spying. You know that. Who are we, to call it justice and kill over this? Thatâs not fair.âÂ
He holds your eyes, pausing. âExceptions are dangerous,â he says, but his voice is changed. Thereâs something other than ice-cold resolution there. You release a breath of tension. Â
âI get that, but...â You search his face. âPlease.âÂ
The estate is quiet aside from the huffing of the hob for a second. The look in Taehyunâs face changes, and then heâs throwing the faerie to the ground. He sheathes his sword with a crisp click that youâve never been more elated to hear, and he snaps, âGet out. Go. Tell whoever the hell sent you here that I wonât take so kindly to this again.âÂ
The hob does not waste even a second in making good on their second chance. It scrambles up and away in a scramble of furious legs and arms.Â
Beomgyu shakes his head and goes to retreat off to wherever he spends a majority of his time, now that the show is over. Â
Taehyun, looking disconcerted with his arms folded and brows lifted, says, âSomebody is sending their people here, and now Iâve set a precedent. I look weak. Those wolves will pounce on any stretch of weakness they can find.âÂ
You sigh. âI know,â you say. âI know, Taehyun. Thank you.â You donât tell him that the wolf he speaks of is Yeonjun, and that the spy was not here to kill or collect intellect from him. Â
It seems that the prince has made his move.Â
â
âYou think that was the end of it?â Beomgyu says. âNo. That was nothing beyond a glimpse. A life spent beside his blood-drinking father is undeniable. How the gentry kids learn Court snark, the Lord learned to take butchery as a trophy.âÂ
Shooting him a glare, you slot the arrow in its home and pull the bowstring taut. It comes much easier, now. Your chest doesnât tremble, and you can properly hold it there comfortably enough to actually aim. Finding the bullseye of woven straw, you narrow your eyes down. You find the center of the spiral, further down the field now that youâve gotten a better handle on your archery. Like Taehyun had said, you aim a little left to make room for wind direction. You release a slow breath in a smooth, silver stream of breath. Wind whistles around the arrow as it dances down the flat of powdery snow. It pierces the center left with a far-off thud. Not a bullseye, but youâre glad to meet your mark. Â
You reach for another arrow. âOr,â you say, âGrowing up with his father taught him to be a better man for it.âÂ
The kelpie, having watched you practice out here for at least thirty minutes, looks up to you from where he sits squatted on the ground. âYou donât believe that,â he scoffs. He drags a finger in the snow. The ground around him is a work of muddy shapes, where heâs worked the snow so much that the wet ground beneath it has begun turning it to brown slush. âThe brute is no different. Ardently as he may detest the former general, he has followed his tracks in the snow. Reluctance makes him no better.âÂ
Cupping your hands over your mouth, you puff out warm breaths that soothe your stinging nose and stiff fingers. It lasts only a small, gratifying moment. You puff out a sigh and take the bow back into your hands. You thought youâd gotten over this conversation, decided to determine for yourself what kind of man Taehyun is, but... When he took up his role as general, you were set back an infuriating mile. Things are even muddier, now. You know he has a reputation to keep up as general, and that he made an exception for you in letting that spy go. If he doesnât present a strong front, itâll put you all in danger. That doesnât stop abrasive thoughts from sticking under your skin, though. Â
âDonât even try and act like you care about violence,â you tell him, giving him a high brow. âItâs not as if you donât trick people and drag them down into your swamp for your own enjoyment. You just dislike Taehyun.â You bring back the string and let another arrow go. It lands somewhere near the first. Â
He doesnât deny that, a rotten smile splitting across his face. Â
Your next shot lands beside the bullseye. Letting out a triumphant sound, you say, âDid you see that?âÂ
Beomgyu hums. âThat one was good.â He stands up to full height with creaking bones and adds, âBut, arenât you getting bored of this? I say we find something more interesting to waste precious time with.âÂ
You frown. âMore interesting...âÂ
He nods, enthused. Â
âThat sounds like a terrible idea, coming from you. Interesting is subjective, and I donât think Iâd like to learn your interpretation of it,â you say, voice sewn with suspicion. You lean your bow against the tree, though. Hitting so close to the center was enough gratification to appease you for the day. âAnd how can I be sure that this isnât part of an escape plan?âÂ
He groans. âLet me play some, wonât you? I have a place that will please the both of us.âÂ
You feign long consideration, but youâve already decided. As cold as you are, and despite your weary arms, youâre jumping at the opportunity to escape the strong walls of the estate. Youâve got a funny tingling in your veins that pleads with you to go and do something. Wherever Beomgyu may take you, youâll just appreciate the distraction from muddled thoughts and recycling anxieties. You nod finally. âFine. Donât bring me anywhere weird, kelpie.âÂ
Though, you never know what youâre getting into, with Beomgyu.Â
â
Well, the dusted walls of a once-great residence around you are not the worst you imagined when thinking where Beomgyu might take you.Â
âYou told Iâd me be pleased,â you say, voice bouncing off the walls and coming back to you hollow. It was the residence of some gone gentry folk, you know. Why that would be of any interest to you, youâre not sure. Itâs pretty, sure. Youâd fought snow and numb fingers to get here, though. You frown at him expectantly.Â
âYou have a sorry amount of trust in me. You would be, if youâd just open your eyes to it,â he cuts back. Â
You hum. âSure.â Raking your eyes over the baseboards, brown wood carved into leaves and acorns, and then down the still halls, you make an effort to see anything differently. Of course, it does nothing. Beomgyu speaks strangely, and he hadnât actually meant to look differently. Despite your conclusion, you still see a stale and forgotten place. You cross your arms over your chest and say, âI get it. This was just an escape plan. And Iâm gonna get your ass. Do you know how far of a walk that was?âÂ
âThis would be a nice place to stay, if we were to forget a certain Lordâs estate...â he muses, tilting his head off to one side. âBut no.âÂ
Looking around, your eyes catch on the film of dust on the floor down the hallway that shoots off from the tall dining hall that you stand in. More specifically, youâre concerned with the set of footsteps leading down it. Your feet tell you to dart. âBeomgyu?â you say, eyes wide as you look over to him. âWhoâs here?âÂ
âShould we go find out?â he says, thick set of brows jumping in a playful twitch.Â
He sets off down the hallway. You follow, internalizing the new surroundings with large drinks. Youâre not sure why you ever thought this would end with him taking you out to the forest to watch will-o'-the-wisps dance in twinkling balls of light, or going to watch a babbling brook work its way over the earth.Â
A tall man steps out from a room. You jump, pulling Beomgyu back, as if he werenât some ancient faerie beast capable of managing himself. He cracks a laugh. The man looks between you two. Your tongue darts out to wet dry lips. Heâs no doubt wondering who you are, just the same as youâre wondering who he is. You whisper to your cavorting heart that Beomgyu is magically compelled to not shove you into harmâs way, and it seems that he knows who this is.Â
You notice the manâs round ears, and his soft and humble features, and the earthliness, and the imperfection-flecked skin. Familiarity bursts in your chestâyouâre looking into the face of another human. âWho is this?â you whisper over to Beomgyu.Â
âThis is Soobin,â he announces, answering your whisperings with his full chest. âA friend, and a human, as I think youâve noticed.â A proud gleam flashes over his eyes. âI believe that you owe me your thanks now.âÂ
The man, Soobin, dips his head at you. Dull, brown eyes study you. âI am,â he says.Â
Searching for words, you open and close your mouth a few times. A nervous thrill wraps you up. Youâve wanted to get to know and be friends with your kind for your entire life. âWhy are you here?â you ask, making a gesture at the residence. âIt looks abandoned. Very abandoned.â When youâd first arrived at Taehyunâs estate, itâd been left alone for quite a while in Taehyunâs leaving it behind. This, though, looks much different than that. You wonder who this place belonged to, and why itâs no longer in use.Â
Sullen eyes answer yours. They remind you of Beomgyuâs, the old tiredness. Itâs strange, seeing that look reflected on such a young face. How does Beomgyu known him, anyway? Soobin answers, âI was a glamoured servant here. Until the faerie died.â He continues talking as he returns to the room from which heâd come from. This room, off and away from the massive inner hall that makes up the majority of the residence, is fresher. Where dust balls and had taken over what was once most definitely a place busy with servants and the host of many feasts, this room is alive and no doubt where Soobin lives. âThen, the glamour died, and I came back to myself.â He sits down onto a foot bench in front of a green-sheeted bed. This mustâve been bedroom for the faerie heâd served. Now, itâs his. He brings his hands up. Where the soft skin of an easy life should sit, thereâs worn and ruined skin in its place. âI wasnât conscious when Iâd been working it, but when I came back... my body ached. It ached so bad, and at first, I had no idea why or... where I was. All I knew was that Iâd been worked into the ground.âÂ
Your heart hangs like stone in your chest, looking at his broken hands. When youâd been taken from the human world, youâd been so young that it made no difference to you. Growing up here, itâs all youâve ever known. Not every human is brought here how you had been, though. Some are snatched up from their adult lives; fallen to some faerie trick hidden in plain sight. Slip up, and youâre stolen away to come do work in this wretched realm. You donât know whatâs worse: what happened to you, being raised here and molded into a meaningless servant, or that. The faerie had stolen time from his life that he will never get backâand he remembers none of it. Glamoured servants had always stricken a gut-wrenching sick feeling in you, whenever youâd seen them. With gone eyes and hollowed out cheeks, theyâd look right through you like mist and continue on with their prescribed duties. Like a husk of a living being.Â
Even now, Soobinâs body tells the story of the taxation. This faerie mustâve seen humans as cattle. âWhy stay here?â you ask, making a seat out of a sofa along the wall. The cushions accept your shape graciously; made affable by time and use. Beomgyu trades the cushioned seat for the floor in front of your crisscrossed legs. He lolls his head back, coarse hair tickling at your skin.Â
Beomgyu answers. âBecause he has no place else to go, and his awful stubbornness keeps him here. There are no rides back to the human world, if youâre not willing to give something away for it.âÂ
Soobin, looking more annoyed than genuinely angry with Beomgyuâs words, says, âIâm not going to give your kind any more of me than I was already forced to. Iâll find a way. Eventually.âÂ
Eventually. The word is heavy coming out from his mouth, falling out like a dud; not even he believes it. âHow long have you been here?âÂ
âI... donât know.â He shifts, watching the flooring rather than looking at the two of you as he speaks. âSince I was taken here? I have no idea. I donât remember a lick of it. But from what I do remember, long. Centuries, maybe.âÂ
Your fingers, raking paths through the tangles in Beomgyuâs hair, freeze. Looking up at him, you tilt your head. It sounds like it should be a hyperbole, an overdramatization to describe what feels like an eternity spent here in this old place. But he doesnât deliver it as such. No, his voice doesnât joke at allâhis eyes stare hard and lack the light of life. âWhat?â you say. Your voice crackles with a confused flare. âWhat do you mean, centuries?âÂ
âHe means that heâs been making this his home for centuries,â Beomgyu says.Â
âNo,â you say, willing your glare to burn holes through the back of his head below you. Of course, he doesnât stir or notice at all. âI mean, thatâs not possible. We donât live that long.â Nonetheless, he looks no older than you. Anything above twenty years is no less unbelievable than centuries. Â
âYou donât?â Beomgyu says. You hear the patronizing smile through his words. âI have known him long. And yet, he lives... How strange is that?âÂ
You deliver a punishing shove at the back of his head. âYou know what I meant, idiot.âÂ
Simpering, he says back to you from over his shoulder, âYouâre not so much the sweet girl I remember meeting. Spend enough of your time here, and even the humanâs body slows. The makeup of his human flesh has not aged for quite some time. Neither will yours.âÂ
A lifetime spent dreading how fast your life will dwindle away comes crashing down over you. You blink hard at the impact. Youâd been haunted; followed around by the dark and heavy promise of a soon death, of deteriorating joints and a forgettable name. That had all been in vain? The enormity of that realization... it comes overhead like dark and swirling water, sucking you down where no amount of kicking or thrashing will clear a way. It swallows you. A bitter anger kindles down in the depths from which that fear had nestled itself. So, Nut-hatch had made the very conscious decision to lead you to believe otherwise.Â
âYouâve reached maturity, and you will stay this way for until you leave Faerie. The years will begin coming to you, as long as you remain there; where time flows differently through the veins,â Beomgyu continues. âHe only wishes to spend his blessing of time decaying away here.âÂ
The two of them begin talking back and forth about whatever it is that Beomgyu says, but a loud silence like fog in your head has their words more like background noise. Youâd lived for so, so long thinking that you were running out of time. The tick of a terrible clock sounded off in the distance in a haunting echo in everything you ever did. Itâs why you ever rallied the nerve to up and leave the life youâd been dragged into. Youâd been so scared of wasting what little life you hadâfear welled up high and told you that time was running out to do it. Would you have ever even left, if youâd not thought yourself so rushed? Your face feels hot.Â
Soobin saying your name, loud and questioning, draws you out just enough to hear him say, âHow did you get tricked?âÂ
You swallow and clear your throat, sitting up straighter. âWhat do you mean?â you ask, mental inertia coloring your words lost. âTricked?â Doing a re-survey of the room, you stop on the windows. Day has begun weaning off into the gray of eventide. Â
âHow did you end up as a servant, I mean,â he elaborates.Â
âOh,â you say, nodding your understanding. âSorry, I got distracted. I was taken when I was little, so I didnât get tricked, or anything.â Nut-hatch didnât have to trick you to bring you here like most faeries do when taking humans from their world, because you had no will. Itâs the loophole in their governing nature; though they might not be able to just take humans without a promise or debt or something of that sort, they can take away the newly born. As long as they leave behind what they believe to be a replacement as payment.Â
âYouâre a changeling,â he says, as if realizing out loud. His eyes meet yours, dead and gone and bitter. âYou shouldâve killed that faerie. They all deserve it.âÂ
The acidic rancor there has you balking. Kill Nut-hatch? You may still harbor resentmentâdeep, deep gnarly gashes and crevices that youâd had to fill, and it just so happens that enmity did the job well. You understand his anger, but the thought of killing your stealer for self-gratifying revenge doesnât make you feel good. Not in the way he suggests it should. In a sick way that only a child with a cavity in their chest where the love for a parent should be could manage, you consumed her role as your owner and digested it down into something you could cling on to. And, with chubby little desperate hands, you had. Perhaps she would spit in your face if you were to return to her nowâbecause youâd failed to fulfill your purpose for herâyou could not fathom hurting her. You pull back the sour face twitching at your muscles and say, âHow do you feel about that, Beomgyu? I thought you were friends.âÂ
He shakes his head. âIf you make senseless bets, youâre already the fool. You canât act so surprised when youâre then asked to put on the foolâs hat and to dance,â he says, pointed derision like an arrow at Soobin. Â
Whatever that means. The folk speak with adages and idioms, but Beomgyuâs verbiage is infested with it. You scuffle down your laugh when Soobin does not share your humor.Â
âHow was I supposed to have thought Iâd be making a bet with a faerie? Nobody even knows this shit is real, there. Itâs all just folklore and scary stories. Itâs not fair ground if I didnât even know that I was doing it. And now, here I am: everybody I ever knew and loved is long, long dead.âÂ
His words are seething with hatred, and yet theyâre barren. Itâs carved him up inside, dug him out into a shell with only this awfulness left. It shakes you a bit. Youâd been so eager to find another human to know or to bond with. This, though... Your brain feels rattled around in your skull. You hope to never become this. Â
âSo, no. We are not friends,â Soobin says. âHe only comes here to enjoy my misfortune, and our kind live with the need for interaction. I tolerate it, I guess.âÂ
You husk out a laugh that doesnât find your eyes. âWell, thatâs not very nice, Beomgyu,â you say, stressing his name with false reprimand. âHe enjoys my suffering too,â you tell Soobin. You nudge Beomgyu with your dangling leg, trying to drag the nonplussed kelpie back into the conversation to save you.Â
âOf course, he does. Itâs why they take us from our world: our pain is no more than like playing with a beetle to watch it struggle, and then killing it when itâs no longer fun. Weâre bugs. Or, dirt. Iâm sure youâve heard that before. They love to tell us that.âÂ
You have. That memory is one that you prefer shoved down and compact where you canât let it remind you what your designated role really is. Youâve been so good about ignoring it, too. With a quick glance to the windows and the dark thatâs fallen outside, you say, âI think we need to go, Beomgyu. We didnât bring any lights...âÂ
The kelpie drags himself up from the ground and away from the room without any sharing of pleasantries. You offer Soobin a quick goodbye and are next out of the room, feet moving like the wood flooring has gone to hot coals.Â
Even in the round edges of a human face, you had not found the resonance that youâve longed so hard for. Humans have the capacity for unshaking violence and vacant souls too, it seems. Perhaps it was never that you were looking for a human to see yourself reflected inâyouâd just bloomed cloudy hopes of finding eyes that will see you clearly and deeply. Those hopes had been misplaced.Â
 But, if not in another human, then who?Â
â
Itâs utterly black outsideâa moonless night. Kicking your restless legs out from your blankets, you stumble down the stairs.Â
You canât find sleep, even behind closed eyes. Behind your eyelids, you see Yeonjunâs storm-clouded face and you taste Taehyun on your mouth. Youâre harassed by guilt cruelly, and feel the weight of your conversation with Soobin deep in your chest. Â
How you end up at Taehyunâs door once again, youâre not sure. Itâs a wholly inappropriate hour of the night, and you ought to have learned your lesson the last time youâd found yourself here. You donât know why your sleepy legs lead you here. Youâre better off plaguing Beomgyu with your restlessness instead. Why youâre stood here before this door... Itâs beyond you.Â
Though, youâve been desperately unable to shove down the urge to stick your toes in the water and see just how icy they are. Heâs pointedly avoided you, and you have no grasp on where you two are going after this. An innate feeling, settled heavy like stone in your chest, tells you that everything has changed.Â
Once youâve knocked and cracked the door open, though, a nervous tide creeps up on you. You should pivot and be back to your room. You would, if you were smart, but as Taehyun sits up with a mess of dark hair and sleep-dusted cheeks, youâre compelled by something other than your mind. Itâs something strangely human, waking up in a groggy haze. The sight of sleepiness on the ever-composed Taehyun is jarring. Itâs gone in only a blink, though, as he shakes it away.Â
âIs something wrong?â he says. He may have brushed away the fog in his brain, but heâs powerless to the husk still weighing his voice down. It sends a strange thrill through you. Â
You shake your head, throat dry.Â
He frowns. âYouâre having dreams again?âÂ
The gentle question has you pausing. Itâs so out and awayâso far beyond what you expect from him. Taehyun has never been one to ask around about how youâre feeling. Heâd much rather skirt around such things, and pretend them away. Emotional nuance is a lost cause on him. Or, thatâs what youâd thought, anyway. Whatâs changed? âNo,â you tell him, pursing your lips. âI just... wanted to talk to you.âÂ
Taehyun sits more fully upright. âAbout what?â he says. You donât miss how his shoulders straighten and stiffen.Â
On bare feet, you shuffle over to his bed. âNothing,â you tell him. You hadnât exactly planned on coming here. Of course, he thinks youâve come here to address what had happened. But... thatâs not why you came here. At least, you think it isnât. You donât know. âCan I sit?â You gesture at the foot of his bed. He nods, eyes trained right on you. Pressing one knee into the coverlets, you climb in.Â
The buzzing and hum of wind dance in the air between you. Youâre not sure what to say; itâs so heavy with every single thing. Itâs hard to keep things light with him, when even the silence is painted with intensity. Â
You settle with just saying, âI couldnât sleep.âÂ
He licks his lips, nodding. âIâd only just fallen asleep,â he says. âAlways something to think about.âÂ
You can relate to that. The melody of a serene, content mind seems like a distant memory. âSorry,â you say. You hadnât meant to ruin his rest. Rigidity intrudes on the flow of conversation. You donât remember ever being this awkward.Â
He dismisses that with a shake of his head. âIâll manage,â he says. âWhen I came back yesterday, you and the kelpie werenât here. Where did you go?âÂ
This is exactly what had been keeping your mind awake. You had wanted to think of anything but that, but maybe talking to somebody about it will be nice. âBeomgyu took me somewhere,â you say. You laugh softly as he makes a face. âYeah, I know. It was some old, run-down place. And there was this human there.âÂ
You pause, filtering through the memory. Taehyun doesnât speak, his eyes watching you with an attentive slowness. Heâs just listening. Continuing, you say, âIt was weird, because... Well, we were talking, and... He was nice. It was nice, talking to another human and seeing my features on him.âÂ
You give a passing glance over at his ears.Â
âAnd Beomgyu is a jerk, but I donât think I learned that yesterday,â you say. You ramble, perhaps filling the space where the uncomfortable memory sits before you can let it bother you. It doesnât help that the air is so quiet. Your mouth moves quick to make it less so. âBut... this guy. Heâs centuries old, and just lives inside that place. Iâd been so excited to have someone who could understand me like that, but then he started saying stuff that made me feel... just, bad for him, I guess. He was so angry and bitter.âÂ
Taehyun watches you speak, and then nods. Tinged with his sleepy husk, he says, âNot everybody stays good when they live for so long. He let it rot him.âÂ
âYeah. It was really like he was rotted. Not bad, I guess,â you say. âIt made me worry that Iâll end up that way, someday. Even though we came here differently, I still feel that sort of anger sometimes. I donât like it, though.âÂ
âI donât think you will,â he says.Â
His voice feels so strangely soft. You donât know how to respond to this, coming from him. Long, quiet beats only decorated by the crackling of bushes scraping up and down the windows, fall over you two again. Your gazes intertwine, dancing together in a way that is also different. âThank you,â you tell him, your voice meek. âI hope thatâs true.âÂ
The longer youâre sat there in Taehyunâs bed, the plush warmth of it and his presence serving as some sort of scarecrow for your pestering thoughts, your eyes grow heavier and your words more useless. Here, in his room and in his presence, itâs as if those thoughts and their terrible claws cannot reach you. You prattle on to him about sleepy nothings, but he doesnât seem to mind that youâre stealing his sleep from him. He only listens, eyes watching you melt down into something softer on the surface of his bed.Â
â
When youâd woken up this morning, youâd popped up in a frantic flurry. Instead of on your own bed, your dreary eyes were met with the walls of Taehyunâs room. You had fallen asleep in Taehyunâs bed; talked yourself into a solid sleep. You had been so thankful that he was not there when youâd been drug from your slumber by the feel of foreign bedsheets on your skin.Â
Even thinking about it now, your ears glow red. Had he been annoyed? You frantically shove those thoughts away.Â
Thereâs a thump from outside. You lean over from your spot on the bed and try to get the best look out you can manage, but itâs at an angle. You see nothing but winterâs flurries there. Â
Your head drops back down to the threadbare fabric in hand. Beomgyu, after a long-winded back and forth, had relented to letting you patch up his clothes. Well, just his shirt. When heâd handed it over to you, it had been a valiant internal battle to not run off and drown the thing in soaped water. For now, you settle for just patching up the mangiest bits. It gives you something to be busy with.Â
Taehyun has been especially busy lately. Youâre not sure why; he doesnât exactly go around singing about his stresses. Â
This time, thereâs three resounding and deliberate knocks at the pane of your window. Your working fingers come to a stop, head popping up. A nervous rattle thrums up and down your spine. It could have been a straying tree branch knocking a song with the windâs encouragement, but theyâd been so sure and pronounced. You let the shirt down and slip off the bed. Keeping your approach down to whisper, you creep toward the window.Â
Yeonjun, nose gone pink, sits on a sturdy branch.Â
For a moment, you stand there taking in the sight of him there; a prince of Faerie, crouched up and in a tangle of branches as he waits for you. Itâs absurd. Not only that, itâs dreadful. Youâve done well, tearing yourself away from him. So, so well. Recently, all that hurt has painted its face and made itself anger. At the sight of his face, it sparks in your chest. But itâs a dull, slow flame, oh so reluctant. This anger feels different than other angers. It bothers you so deeply that you canât place a finger on why.Â
And you want to let that anger sit there and fester, hoping that it will work at eroding away your still-connected heartstrings like rot. Even through the glass of the window, you feel themâred and reinforced and tugging you toward him.Â
Itâs ridiculous. This is ridiculous and pathetic, letting him send you fragmented just with this. Youâve become the sort of girl that youâd snort over in sappy loverâs ballads and odes, the kind that youâd looked down on for their lack of spine. How different it is, when it comes to your turn. Despite it all, you reach out and push the windows open. Even with the sputtering flame you foster, heâs frozen and does not look like heâs going to give up just at this. If you were to pretend he wasnât there and flop back down into the bed, you think that he might sit there brazen and let the ice freeze him from the inside out. Or, heâll find some other way to speak with you. The glint in his eyes, the only light reflected in flatness, tells you as much.Â
âThis isnât cute, or... romantic, like you think it is, Yeonjun. Not like last time. Itâs just hurtful,â you tell him.Â
Breath like smoke, Yeonjun says, âI donât mean to hurt you. It kills me that I do.â His voice is sweet and smooth like malt liquor. It grips your mind in dazzling claws.Â
You shake your head, staying a reasonable distance from him and the window. âYouâre not supposed to be here. You have to go,â you tell him, pulling the leash to the collar youâve put on yourself taut. âItâs icy. Climb down safe, please.âÂ
Of course, that doesnât budge him. âNot supposed to be here? Why, because you donât want it, or because heâll be angry at you?â he says. His pretty face has gone sour. âLook at you. Youâve lost so much weight. Heâs not taking care of you, pretty. Come home to me. I know you know where it is; I see the look on your face. I know that you lie to me with your words, but you were never good at hiding your face.âÂ
You stay rooted to your spot; you wonât be so weak to words again. No matter how sweet and soft they feel against your shining, weeping wounds. He put that hurt there. Leaning into it would just be self-destructive.Â
âPlease. It hurts both of us to be away, so why do it? I know that Iâve hurt you, and Iâll spend every last of my waking breath letting you know that it was a mistake. Iâll leave it all behindânone of it matters,â he continues. âMake me your servant. Ask me to swear my life away to you, and Iâll drop to my knees and put it on my beating heart right now.â Â
Your throat feels dry. Heâd swear himself in your service, give you the ability to control him as you will. Itâs an unfathomably massive show of trust and dedication. You donât want that, though. Not one bit. His frantic professions punch you in the gut nonetheless. Had you been losing weight? You havenât even noticed. Yeonjun did, thoughâat a glance, heâd known youâve been hurting. Â
âYeonjun, please. Youâre not making this easy for me. Just give it time; weâll get over it. Eventually, weâll forget each other,â you say, jaw aching with protest at each heavy word. Now faced with the reality of a much, much longer life, your own words bite you. It means, though, that you have so much time to build yourself up into something solid and beautiful. And, somewhere down the road, youâll think of this and be unaffected. Wonât that day come any sooner, though?Â
âForget each other?â he says, laugh like poison. âNo, we wonât forget each other. Time doesnât fix it. I promise you that I know that all too well. Our love is not the kind you can forget. It will just hurt forever.âÂ
âGo on,â you say. âLie to me again. I want to hear it.âÂ
Eyes shining and unable to lie, he says, âI love you.âÂ
Swallowing thickly, you back away and get ready to close the window. Â
He climbs in through the window in a quick move. You donât even have time to protest it before heâs saying, âAsk anything of me. Any last thing that you want of me, but do not ask me to watch you in his arms. I will not.âÂ
There it is againâthat dread. You want it to go easy, but of course it never was going to. âStop it,â you say, mustering up a shaking finger to point at him. âStop. Just go.âÂ
His face goes hard. âThat bastard is off to a war camp. Soon. He becomes more like his father every day, doesnât he?â His soft hands, warm and cradling, find your face. âYou donât have to punish me by being with him. Come be safe. All heâs done is throw you out in the path of danger. If he cared for you, it would have never happened.âÂ
Darting between his eyes, breaths come quick to you. âWhat?â you say. Itâs the one word you can pull out from the chaos that heâs wrought onto your thoughts. A blizzard erupts, and through the whipping breeze and shards you donât think to pull away from him or take his hands off of you.Â
So, thatâs why Taehyun had been busy. What does that even entail for you? Are you going to be here? Does he expect you to pack up and go there with him, to travel for a war that you donât even care for?Â
âAll I ever did was protect you, pretty. I know that, in hindsight, it all seems shady. But I promise you that I did. They were never going to hurt you, and neither was I,â he says, his voice thick and strong with conviction.Â
Metal rings, the sound of a quick blade being unsheathed. Â
âLeave,â Taehyun snarls. He holds his sword at point, right on Yeonjun. Itâs an emphatic promise of what heâs capable of and what heâll do.Â
Flame, wild and melting you around the edges, eats up every last bit of oxygen in the room. It leaves none for you to breathe. It crackles and pops between them, where their gazes meet and feed it. Everything else has gone still. Even the wind, it seems. Â
Sword held fast and unmoving, Taehyun says, âYou send your people into my home, and now you sneak in yourself. I wonât be walked over. Leave now, or you waste my courtesy.âÂ
So, heâd come to that conclusion as well. Heâs so stillâhis face carved of ice into sharp edges. Â
When Yeonjun sends a look your way, you shake your head at him. You have no clue what heâs thinking, but you want none of it. Your stomach does a violent flip. âYeonjun, go. I want you to go. Please.âÂ
His features lined with flame; he looks from you to Taehyun. âYour violence will be the fall of you,â he says, jaw tight as he pushes out toward your door. Not without a final glance sent to you, though. The promise you see there is a dreadful one.Â
You refuse to meet Taehyunâs daggered look. Beomgyuâs shirt lays forgotten on your bed. Youâre half tempted to grab it and resume work; to continue on and escape this.Â
âThat didnât take very fucking long, did it?â he says. âRight back into his arms.âÂ
Your drag your hands down your face. âI didnât tell him to come here,â you snap. âItâs none of your business who I talk to. How about we talk about you leaving? When did you plan on telling me, huh? I donât like secrets, Taehyun.âÂ
Taehyun slips his sword back into the sheath. It clicks back in place. âNone of my business?â he says. He repeats the words back at you with an aspâs curl. âWhen heâs in my home, in your room, itâs my business.âÂ
âWould you stop?â you say, exhaustion sputtering out your fight. âWith Yeonjun, I always know whatâs going on. With you? I donât know what to expect,â you say. âTell me. When were you going to tell me that youâre going?âÂ
His face morphs into something different: one of those bone-chilling ones that you donât know how to explain. He doesnât answer for a few beats; you can see his mind turning itself over. âThis was going to happen. I told you that,â he says. âAnd I was going to tell you.âÂ
You let out a long sigh, your shoulders loosening with it, when this time his voice isnât so venomous. Heâd been so busy lately. Being general assured that, especially now that things are moving. âWhen? How long will you be gone?â you say. âWhat if something happens to you, Taehyun? What are Beomgyu and I supposed to do?â You include Beomgyu in your proposition, but youâre not sure whether heâd stay with you or run off into the tree line the moment he finds heâs free. Then, really, who would you have?Â
âYouâll be there,â he says. âYou can come. I prefer it. If you stay here, youâre vulnerable to attacks. This estate is known to be mine, and now that Iâve become the general... I canât say that itâs safe.â Heâs come so close that now his eyes look down on you. They donât feel acidic on your skin. âAnd nothing will happen to me. I promise it, nothing will happen to me or you. Or that kelpie. Iâll win this war.âÂ
Around a thick swallow, you nod. Â
You donât doubt that Taehyun has the skill or the wits to do so. You only can hope that he doesnât destroy himself trying to prove it; to both you and himself.Â
âŠđȘ¶ ashlynn's note i know, i know. we made big moves this chapter. AHHHH! taehyunâŠâŠ taehyunâŠ..
ïčđ·ïž ïč @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!
#txt#txt fanfic#txt x reader#taehyun x reader#taehyun fanfic#yeonjun ff#taehyun smut#taehyun fanfiction#taehyun#taehyun ff#yeonjun smut#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun fanfiction#yeonjun#choi yeonjun#txt smut#txt fic#txt x you#beomgyu fanfic#hueningkai fanfic#soobin fanfic#to someone from a warm climate#tsfawc#txt x y/n#taehyun x female reader#fem reader txt#faerie txt#txt fantasy fanfic#txt ff#txt fanfiction
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As a crazy cat lady, may I offfer...
Eddie who has always loved cats, how free and soft and elegant they are, how they purr and close their eyes in affection, how they make him forget all his worries and stress. He's loved them ever since a neighbor's cat found him crying behind the trailer after he got bullied for his new haircut, the last gift from his shitty dad before Eddie got whisked away by the social services. The cat ignored his sniffling and jumped in his lap, plopping herself over the bony knees and thin thighs, and when she started rubbing her face against his scraped palm, Eddie felt complete.
He can't adopt one yet because he lives with Wayne who is allergic. Wayne offers to take antihistamines but Eddie refuses, he doesn't want to inconvenience him in his own home. Still, he dreams of one day sometime in the future, a small apartment of his own and at least two cats who will greet him when he comes home.
Eddie finds himself volunteering in a shelter and when a new cat café opens, he jumps at the opportunity. He is hired and spends his days taking of their cat ensemble and preparing delicious coffees. Cats help him be less jittery and more grounded, so it's a win win. Eddie loves this job.
Enter Steve Harrington, an insanely handsome man who stops by to make a reservation. Eddie is his usual flirty self, although he expects Steve will bring a date and that's the end of that. But then Steve leans to Eddie and asks: "Listen, uh...I will need some help."
Suppressing an internal groan, Eddie asks: "what, do you need me to drop an engagement ring into the coffee or something? Because can do, but it needs to be sanitized first."
"Oh no. Not that, no..." Steve runs his fingers through his hair and even though it looks like a nervous gesture, Eddie is seconds away from a cuteness induced nosebleed. "Not at all. I just...I have a little sister, you know? I mean, my adoptive dad is fostering her and she's the kindest girl you've met, but she had it rough in her original family. Apparently there was something involving animals and...she loves cats so much, but is terrified of hurting them. She would never!" he clarifies when he sees a frown forming on Eddie's forehead. "It's just that whenever she showed affection to any animal, her biological father made sure it would get hurt or at least chased away. And that's gone, that man is in jail and I just...I want to show her that it's okay to love animals again. That she can pet a purring cat without worrying about its safety."
Eddie just stares at him with mouth open. "That's...wow," he says. "Sorry. Processing."
Steve does the hair thing again and laughs and Eddie thinks that this man deserves a brother of the year award, yep, he'll ask Gareth to 3D print one right fucking now. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on you, but I had to be honest because this is a big deal to her. To me as well. Just...listen, I like cats a lot, but I'm not the best at interpreting what they mean, their body language and all that. And I really need Jane to have someone here that can tell her what to do, when she's doing a good job...someone who will protect the kitties if she messes up. Her words. I know it's a lot to ask, but..."
But Eddie shushes him. "Say no more, big boy. I'll be here and I'll give the young lady the cat experience of a lifetime."
Eddie used to think he couldn't love his job any more. But with Jane's uncertain smile and big eyes, her incredulous squeal when a cat chose her for the first time, when she kept asking Eddie for specifics of each cat in his care - "which one is more shy, which one likes to be picked up, which one is a picky eater?" - he thinks he's finally found his calling. Steve beams at him and comes back the next day with a bag of approved cat treats for the cats and a box of chocolates for Eddie as a thank you, then asks him out for a dinner - "if that is even appropriate, shit, sorry, I don't want you to feel pressured or something, this is your job, I get it, but I just really admire you and you were amazing to Jane, uh, and the stuff you say about cats is so interesting I'd just love to hear more". Eddie's heart flutters like the traitor it is and he thinks - maybe this is someone I could adopt a cat with one day.
And unsurprisingly, he's right.
#steve harrington#eddie munson#eleven stranger things#jane hopper#steddie au#cat cafe au#steddie#steddie drabble#stranger things#THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ONE PARAGRAPH FFS
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Just Like Dad (2 of 4)
Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff, some humor, canon-typical swearing, Kyle is a girl dad
Word Count: 935
A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series
An evening of peace is interrupted when Kyle has to answer questions about what he does for a living.
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad masterlist
Peace is shattered.
It always is when you have a kid.
Itâs not just scraped knees or melted ice cream splattered on the pavement. Sometimes, peace is shattered because your child is a feral goblin who decides disturbing your sleep is the perfectly logical thing to do.
Wearing a pink onesie, standing in the bedroom doorway with her little fist raised and clutching a thin piece of paper, you and Kyleâs six-year-old daughter is ominously backlit by the hallway light. Kyle blinks, a little stunned by the sight before him. You shift beside him, one hand reaching out to him, murmuring his name.
There are a few seconds between her sudden appearance and the leap onto the bed. She spider-crawls like a thing out of a horror movie.
âBloody hell,â groans Kyle, pinching the bridge of his nose as his daughter perches like a gargoyle next to him.
âDaddy,â she whispers.
You are already awake, turning over onto your back with squinted eyes as youâre blasted by the bright light of the hallway.
Before you can even speak, Kyle is shaking his head, placing a hand on your shoulder. âIâve got this,â he groans, sitting up to turn on the bedside light. You glance at your daughter before returning to your original position.
Kyle rests his forearms on his bent knees, staring at his daughter who gazes at him with a peppy eagerness like sheâs just eaten a cake heavily coated in icing. She shouldnât have this much energy at this late hour.
âGo to bed,â says Kyle. âItâs past bedtime.â
She clutches the thin piece of paper. âI wanted to show you earlier.â
While Kyle is typically indulgent when it comes to her, heâs not feeling that way at the moment. He only wants to sleep.
âItâs late, bug,â he replies. âTomorrow.â
She shakes her head, her tight curls bouncing slightly. âI didnât know what to put here. You donât talk about your job.â She points to a spot on the paper, and Kyle frowns as he peers closer.
Fuck.
Itâs one of those questionaries where the child answers all these questions about themselves, and several pertain to her parents and what they do. She has left that entire section blank. Kyle understands that schools do this so that the students can build identity in their community while also making connections with classmates.
But sheâs right. Kyle doesnât talk about his job. At least not with her. You, his wife, are an entirely different story. You, the one who has been through nearly all of it, is the only person who truly knows everything. His daughter is far too young to know specifics or to fully comprehend the sheer violence of his work.
âYouâre right, love. I donât.â
âWhy?â she asks automatically.
This is not a conversation he wants to be having. She needs to be in bed, and Kyle should be asleep and spooning you before he has to take this feral fiend of a daughter to school in the morning.
Kyle sighs and runs his hand over his face. âWhere is this coming from?â
Her face falls slightly, and then becomes steel. âI want to be like you,â she says. âI want to grow up and be strong.â
No, babygirl. No. You donât want to be like me.
You stir beside him, shifting like youâre about to turn and join the conversation. But Kyle knows you need your rest, and this isnât the sort of conversation he desires to have this late at night.
That hardness melts away, and Kyleâs heart fractures slightly. Sheâs so small and yet so determined. Her little fist clutching the paper shakes slightly as if asking him is taking all her strength.
âGive me the paper.â Her smile widens as she hands it over. âAnd go turn off the hall light.â She groans loudly and Kyle shushes her as she throws herself off the bed and drags herself to the hall.
The light flicks off, and then sheâs rushing back to him. He pats the side of the bed, and she crawls in, curling up next to him as he grabs the book off his bedside table.
âPencil?â he asks, and she whips one out, her smile wide.
Kyle snorts and snags it, twirling it end-over-end as he tries to formulate an answer to the questions. Some of that gentle humor slips away, falling into memory, all the lead and blood and carnage comes back, roaring in his ears.
He takes a deep breath, silencing it all.
Graphite touches paper, and Kyle begins jotting down answers to all the things his daughter didnât answer. She rests her head against his shoulder, watching the pencil scratch across the paper.
When heâs done, he presents the paper, and his daughter takes it reverently, as if all the secrets she doesnât have are now suddenly before her. She does not take the pencil as she slips off the bed and starts to sprint for the door. She comes to a halt and turns on her heel, running back to him.
âThanks, Daddy,â she says a little too loud before kissing his cheek and heading out into the hall.
The bed shifts, and Kyle turns to look at you as you twist to face him.
âWhat did you write?â you murmur.
Kyle sighs and shuts off the bedside light. He snuggles in, and you reach for him in the dark. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you close, inhaling your scent, allowing his mind to drift toward dreaming.
âA nice truth,â replies Kyle softly just before he slips into sleep.
#kyle garrick imagine#kyle gaz garrick imagine#gaz imagine#kyle garrick fluff#kyle gaz garrick fluff#gaz fluff#kyle garrick fanfiction#kyle gaz garrick fanfiction#gaz fanfiction#kyle garrick fic#kyle gaz garrick fic#gaz fic#kyle garrick fanfic#kyle gaz garrick fanfic#gaz fanfic#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz x reader#kyle garrick x female reader#kyle garrick x fem!reader#kyle garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x female reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick headcanons#gaz call of duty#gaz cod#kyle garrick cod#kyle gaz garrick#dad!141
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Must Be Love
Corporate Worker San x (F)Reader
Summary: Love, is an emotion so deep that once earned, it could change lives. Unfortunately, neither of the two had ever had the opportunity to feel love. Well, maybe he had, but having his heart thrown back at him, made him realise that the corporate world was far too busy, far too bitter and far too cold for a hardworking boy from Namhae- it was about time he accepted the bitter taste of reality.
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Fluff
Warnings: Languages/ Insecurities (majorly of being alone)
Word Count: 21k
Est. Read Time: 1 hr
Rating: nc-17
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels
Banner: @cafekitsune
Master List- Corporate Brew
A/N: Only God and @edenesth know how this was supposed to be a timestamp, that turned into a oneshot that is so long- that I- I swear I don't even know why San has me in a chokehold.
"All I'm saying is that speed dating does work for some people." The brunette claimed entering the elevator with the taller man who shook his head with a pout, pressing the parking button. Sure, speed dating worked for a few people, but those few people were rarely introverts, moreover, he did not have time for love. Love was a luxury he could not afford, especially after his last encounter with the villain, he believed that distancing himself from it would keep him safe, and keep him from hurting.
"Yeah...just not my thing," he mumbled, stepping out onto the concrete floor, their polished shoes scraping against the cement, echoing in the enormous parking lot. Sighing he looked over the fence, frowning at the jam below, "I hate Mondays", muttering to himself he turned to wave off Yeosang who smiled at him, before ducking down to enter his car, lowering the window once the engine was switched on, "I'm just saying San, you can't let her get to you forever."
"See you tomorrow Yeosang." with one final wave his friend drove off, as the man himself, got into his car, buckled up and decided to speed out, it didn't matter anyway, he'd be stuck in traffic but at least it'll be quick, it was already 9 pm, the sooner he could go home, the sooner he'd be in bed, ready to succumb to the solitude and silence at his apartment.Â
Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, it was already 11 pm. Cursing under his breath he walked out of the elevator, so exhausted, so tired, so done with everything. A constant ringing in his ears only added to the discomfort, as he squinted at the hallway lights. Making his way down his corridor he reached his door until pausing, turning his head to find someone sitting at the door next to his, hugging her knees- was she...crying? All too suddenly the ringing disappeared, the lights around him became much bearable, the dull greys around him morphing into something else- San, stop. Clearing his throat, he looked at her, trying to get her attention, which he only got once he 'fake' coughed.
His curious gaze met with glossy doe eyes, and a tear-stained face stared up at him. Unknown to him, she had just come to the realisation that God really did do people favours, and one of those favours was creating a being like the one standing above her, with a gaze so soft she could almost feel it, his features sharp as a feline and not to mention those shoulders, damn what a beauty. She watched him blink at her slowly before turning around and- oh. He went inside.... wow.
With a snort, she shook her head-that was anti-climactic. Of course, why would anyone even want to deal with her, especially someone like him?
San closed the door behind him, slowly walked over to the console table, and stopped to stare at his reflection, God he looked like a mess, no wonder she was staring at him like that. Running his fingers through his hair, he sleeked back his bangs, trying to calm down his nest of hair before fixing his tie and opening the door to find her in the same place, walking over to her as he cleared his throat.
"Excuse me Ma'am-" he began, pausing when she looked up at him with a frown, man, he wasn't good-looking, but he wasn't that ugly either.
"I lost my key."Â
"You- what?" quirking a brow he stared at her before looking at the numerous bags and suitcases beside her, how exactly did he not notice these before?Â
"I moved in today...lost my key and the landlord is out of town," mumbling she hugged her knees tighter looking away from him, frowning at the tiled floor, waiting for something, a backhanded compliment, an insult, a taunt, something to remind her of her ignorance and lack of competence.Â
Sighing he rubbed his face, before staring at the door, looking at the lock pad, moving closer he stood right beside her, glancing down at her, though she was still staring ahead, frowning like a child put in time out shaking his head he began pressing the numbers on the keypad, resetting the door's lock- knowing this was no longer a used apartment, it had a generic code from number one to five, he was confused why the landlord had decided to not tell her this. On the other hand, this was common knowledge, but then again, he didn't know these things when he started, a fresh graduate with the hopes of stepping into the world with a will to change stuff- that is until the corporate world put him back in his place.
The beeping caught her attention, side eying him, most of her vision just comprised of his pant leg, craning her neck upwards, she met with the gaze of an angel, giving her a small smile as the light behind him glowed in all in angelic mercy. Was he...bipolar?
"I've reset it. Please change the passcode once you settle in."
With that he walked away, leaving her sitting there, grateful yet so confused, his calm demeanour just putting her anxiousness at bay. The soft click of his door brought her back to reality, clearing her throat she stood up, dusting her clothes she made her way to his door, clearing her throat, trying to fix her hair before ringing the doorbell.
San was almost done unbuttoning his shirt when the doorbell rang, as he paused, groaning in disdain the man glanced at the clock, it was almost midnight, what on earth did the world want from him now? Messily buttoning it back up he padded to the door barefoot, his tie hanging around his neck, annoyed at the pestering dinging of the bell as he swung the door open, glaring at whoever was rude enough to ruin his few moments of silence and bliss.
"Th-oh- sorry." she stammered, averting her gaze before bowing and thanking him, mumbling her name and scurrying away through her open door, slamming it shut, her things still outside. He stared at her, what a peculiar woman, what was her problem? Glancing down he realised most of his shirt was still unbuttoned- ohâŠwell technically he was wearing a vest- shit did she think he was weird? A pervert? Great going Choi San. Sighing for the nth time of the night he closed the door, finally deciding to go to bed and forget whatever embarrassing things he had done tonight.
Leaning her ear against the door she weighed for it to close, praying to any entity out there that he did not assume she was weird or a perv. It's not like this was the first time she'd seen a man and technically he was still fully clothed so- God, Jongho was right, she's been single for too long. A good ten minutes later she cracked open the door, leaning out to glance at her neighbour's door, apartment number 404, well then, at least he was gone, she could pull in her stuff without any interruptions.Â
.
"You traumatised- no, you harassed a woman," Yeosang mumbled, coat in hand as he entered the elevator, San following in behind, San who was also late today, San who had rushed to work today, forgetting both, his laptop at home and his coat.
"I did not." he sighed, staring at his reflection, he hadn't gotten much sleep last night - or any other of the previous nights for that matter. Usually, when he'd lay down, his body would be exhausted, but an hour in all he'd do was toss and turn restlessly, blanketed by something else, something heavy and blue, at this point he had no clue as to what to do. The room would just end up getting stuffy and within a few hours, he'd slip out of bed, have a cup of coffee, shower, change, try to eat something, anything so he could function and leave like he had a whole eight hours of sleep.
"Should've asked her how she lost the key though." the other man hummed, pressing the buttons of their floors, eying his friend who was now leaning his head against the wall, eyes closed with a pout.
"No."
"No?"
"No, she was already upset, who cares how she lost them." he sighed, straightening up once the door opened, "Didn't feel like adding salt to the wound."
"Aww...my stoic Mr.Choi is so considerate." he teased, patting the back of his friend who rolled his shoulders, before walking out, mumbling a, "I'll just take Mingi's jacket- don't bother coming by!' he turned around swiftly to point at Yeosang, who stood there behind the open doors, waving at him, "Whatever you say...." waiting for the doors too almost close for the punchline, "Perv."
.
"Will you be going out for lunch today, Sir?" Mingi asked, fingers frozen above the keyboard, peaking through his glasses as he stared at San who was locking the glass door to his office.
"Yeah...want something?" the man turned to look at his secretary - assistant, mind you- who shook his head, "Enjoy your lunch, Sir." with that he went back to typing up the due report - one that was due a day ago, he was just glad San hadn't realised that yet.
Shaking his head San sighed, "Mingi, my man, you gotta stop calling me Sir." stuffing his hands in his pockets he looked around the almost empty floor, "Also, I've submitted the report." his words caused the taller man to freeze, his curious eyes locking with a tired, blank pair, an apology simmering at the tip of his tongue but the man raised his hand to stop him, "Just...tell me next time."Â
"Yes Sir."
"Creme croissant and a latte, right?" he asked as he began to walk away, being nothing more than a hero- no, an angel, for Song Mingi, oh how he wished everyone had a boss like his. Standing up and bowing a good 90 degrees he kept thanking the man until the elevator doors closed.
.
Grimacing at the bitter taste of his coffee he walked down the street, frowning at almost everything. The sun was too bright, the birds were too loud, there was too much traffic and lunch hour was packed. Holding onto the paper bag of Mingi's lunch he bit the end of the straw, staring into the windows of the shops he passed by. Why did these people look so happy? Did they not have work? What did they have that he did not?
Too lost in thought he collided with someone, though little damage was done to him, other than dropping Mingi's lunch, his coffee was fine, and so was his shirt. Sighing in relief he turned to look at the person who had ended up on the floor, about to apologise he paused, "Oh...it's you."
Falling on your butt is one of the worse things known to man or woman in her case, truth be told she hadn't seen the man, especially because of the boxes that she was holding, they were heavy and if Jongho didn't think that rock-paper-scissors was not the best solution for any problem, especially when it meant carrying heavy objects, she wouldnât be here. She was picking up the cups that fell out of the box, luckily the one with the spoons and forks was taped up, mumbling an apology to the person before spotting the soiled package- shit.
"I'm so sorry-" she was cut off by his statement, staring up at him, oh shit. Clearing her throat she nodded before standing up, patting the dust off her clothes and apologising, "I-I'm sorry I didn't see you there. " He was about to say it's okay please stop apologising but before he could she reached for his feet causing him to bounce back only to realise she was reaching for what remained of Mingi's lunch.
"I- I'm so sorry, I'll get you a new one." she said placing it on the boxes and trying to pick them up, though he reached for them before she could, picking them up, "Please stop apologising. It's alright, you don't have to," he said as he looked at her from over the boxes. Wow, he makes the boxes look small, what else can he pick up?
"No, please you don't have to help me, I can carry them." she said trying to reach for them but he shook his head, nodding in the opposite direction, "Where were headed?"
"LET ME MAKE YOU LUNCH"Â
The two stared at each other, her words causing the two to stare at each other before he cleared his throat, averting his gaze and she shook her head trying to explain, "I mean for the one I dropped, I have a cafe- technically it's not open yet but you-you can be the first official nonofficial customer."
"Ah...okay," whispering he turned to look at her again and nodded, following her as she began to speed walk in the direction of his office- oh it was close by? They stopped at a closed shop just a block away, the windows covered with newspapers, including the glass door. Craning his neck back he stared at the name, a giant board of the name - oh it's a cafe? 'Jiyuu'.
Freedom, huh? He followed her inside, only to abruptly stop when she turned around "I can hold it-"
"Just tell me where to keep it,â he asked before walking towards the dusty counter, placing the boxes on it and turning to her but she zoomed into the kitchen mumbling, a 'Please stay here, I'll be right back'.Â
He stood there, idle, hands in his pockets, staring around the semi-decorated place, wasn't shabby, and wasn't over the top modern as well. It was close to his work too, maybe he'd try the coffee here. Speaking of coffee, how did a simple cafe owner- one that was still closed- afford an apartment like his? Someone cleared their throat, earning his attention.Â
"Here you go," she mumbled, "Sorry again." handing him the paper bag- it was bigger than the one he had for Mingi.
"Thank you." nodding at her he pouted, "I told you, it's okay." with that the two stood there, awkwardly standing, staring at anything but each other, the hustle and bustle of outside muffled through the newspaper-covered glass windows, the golden glow just adding to the calm atmosphere. He hadn't felt like this in a while he had not been able to hear his thoughts in a good while, it bothered him, the slow atmosphere, there was no rush, and even time had a pace of its own. A melancholic serenity, he was slowly beginning to enjoy until his phone rang, causing him to jerk back to reality, only to realise she was busy unboxing, when did she move away? Did she just let him stand there, staring at the wall?Â
"I- thanks again." clearing his throat he nodded at her, earning a gentle smile, "Thank you too." with that he quickly made his exit.
That day, Mingi received more than just a croissant and a latte, he got a whole Danish pastry, a cold coffee and more assorted baked items- No, San did not tell him how he got them, he just told him it was his treat. That day, San had finally witnessed something, felt something so similar that he felt goosebumps, felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand, yet, other than his internal conflict, the world around him was at a pace so strange, one that was slowly pulling him in, something he was deathly afraid of, yet, he welcomed it, just a little bit. That day she finally made a friend, other than Jongho, even if it were comprised of him just being nice to her, she'd accept that, everyone was falling in love, and at least she was no longer falling behind.
.
A week, it had just been a week since the two had come to know about their existence and he had realised how even though he'd address her with her first name she'd use Mr.Choi. Perhaps she would do so out of respect, or perhaps she was scared of him. Either way, what he did not expect was for her to knock on his door, drenched to the bone, shivering as she tried to give him that usual smile 'Everything is A-okay!'. He could see right through it, and even though he had decided to not meddle in others' affairs, he still somehow found her sitting on his couch, clutching onto a mug of tea, one of his spare towels wrapped around her shoulders.
That is not what baffled him, what truly amazed him was how this strange woman just barged into his apartment, wet as a cat caught in the rain and had brought up a proposition, much similar to the one Yeosang would bring to the table during the yearly board meetings, making San want to strangle him most of the time.
"So, in reality, you want me to drop you off at your place of work and you'll pay me...with coffee?" He asked, watching her sit on his extremely expensive leather couch, sleek black, matching the monochromatic theme of his living room, and her damp clothes were not doing the leather any favours.
"Yes- I mean, No- I mean a coffee and something to eat, whatever you like! I read that business and corporate people love a good brew and I'll be targeting them too so-" she went on and on, playing with the hem of her damp cardigan, but he raised a hand to stop her, her eyes widening at the gesture, oh god, was he going to throw her out? Jongho did tell her that this was a bad idea.
"Why are your clothes wet?"
"O-oh." her face flushed at the question, her gaze flickering to her lap as she cleared her throat, "It started raining on my way back...and I didn't have an umbrella."
"But the forecast.... mentioned it." he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands before stopping to glare at her, "Did you not take one or did you forget it at the cafe?" his words were cold, but held some form of warmth to them, though his hard glare softened at her meek response.
"I left it at work, Mr.Choi."
"Go home." was all he said as he stood up and walked over to the main door, turning to catch her staring at him with wide glossy eyes, of course, she wouldn't get the hint, "We leave at sharp 6 amâ.
.
"So... this is just what neighbours do?" Yeosang glanced up from the documents, of course San had blocked the funds for the marketing department, this man's sulking was affecting his work ethic too- by work ethic, he meant how he was holding Yeosang's big marketing plans.
"Hmm? Oh yeah...I guess, why?" he asked still reading through the other proposals, not really thinking about it or her. Honestly, he had assumed she would've tapped out within a week, though this past month he was impressed by her persistence. Some days he'd just step foot outside to find her standing in front of her own door, holding onto her handbag, only to smile at him. How on earth was she able to pull off the heart-stopping smile early in the morning? He still didn't know how, he'd just nod silently, sometimes mumbling a good morning, but his lips wouldn't quirk up the slightest.
She'd followed him silently, usually not speaking unless spoken to, but he could sense that she had many stories to tell, but perhaps his heart was already too full, sinking into this blue and her stories and words would just ruin any chances he'd have to stay afloat. Hence, they'd only exchange pleasantries when he'd see fit, but he'd thank her, every time he'd drop her and she'd ask him to stay for a minute, only to run inside with her things and come back running with a coffee and a paper bag. Each day it would comprise of something new, and she'd just say it's her trying new recipes, though she never made the coffee, it was made by him, someone named Jongho, he didn't know much about Jongho, only that he played a vital role in her life- so she had someone too, even if potential. And for once he was glad to have kept his walls up high as he had, though this silent pitter patter of his heart, from every time she'd smile at him annoyed him, every time she whispered before closing the door, " Have a good day, Mr.Choi", it just made the pound of flesh in him shiver with an unwanted excitement.
"San?"
"Huh?"
Clicking his tongue, Yeosang leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms as he scanned the man across the table. His shirts were pressed to the crisp, his usual four-in-hand tie knot, now a full-blown Windsor knot, he'd brought back the waistcoat as well, a choice that was long discarded and his hair, gelled back to perfectionâdefinitely just neighbours.Â
"What~" he whined, slumping against the chair, almost like a child throwing a fit, a side only Yeosang would see, usually he'd mock him, but he knew San got like this when he was bound by one of his man internally conflicts, which is why he chose to keep the observation to himself and nod at the clock, "Your neighbour must be waiting, itâs almost time."
"What- oh yeah." nodding he quickly grabbed his things, slinging his bag over his shoulder, almost out the door before he stopped and turned around, "Yeo?"
"Hmmm?"
"Re-evaluate and send in the budget again."
"F*ck you, Choi."
.
"So..." she asked, looking around the interior of his car, "Nice car." Must've cost a lot is what she wanted to say next, but knowing him, he would've asked her to get out at that very moment- incorrect, Choi San couldn't even glare at her properly, let alone tell her to walk home.
"Thank you..." he mumbled, driving onto the main road, not really knowing how to continue the conversation, Yeosang would've made fun of him, telling him he couldn't even do 'small talk', but it's not like he had much in common with her, other than working near each other and living in the same building, on the same floor.
"I uh...thank you for dropping me home." she tried to push onto the subject, maybe he'd talk to her if she pestered him, that's how she had gotten Jongho to become her friend- not the best tactic, but it had worked once, why wouldn't it again?
"No problem." his responses were short, again, not out of malice, he just didn't know what to say to her, with his sister, it usually comprised of him being a baby to her or her bossing him around but that was different, they were siblings, they could argue about stupid things and get over it, but with her- she was...different, she was soft, she was sensitive and delicate, like a butterfly on a flower. Though she'd be one of those he'd avoid, not wanting to fall into its beauty and grace, too distracted to take note of the world around him. No longer was he willing to fall, or at least imagine to do so.
Parking the car he cleared his throat, waiting for her to move, but he was greeted by silence. What the hell- he turned to find her asleep, hugging her purse close, leaning against the door.Â
If this was extremely dangerous and careless of her, he might have found it cute- why on earth- HOW COULD SHE JUST FALL ASLEEP LIKE THIS? What does he do? Does he tap her shoulder? Shake her? Wouldn't that be touching her without consent? Should he call her by her name? Yes, he should, and with that intention he had turned to her once more, only to notice the small frown etched on her features, she looked.... tired.
Jerking awake she sat up properly, blowing the hair out of her face, blinking around, where- was she in the car? Whipping her head to look at the driver's seat she found him sitting there, tying away on his phone, his hair a bit dishevelled but everything else was pristine about him, as it was in the morning. His face was illuminated by the blue light, only accentuating his sharp features, to this day she wondered how someone like him would even bother talking to her.
"Good morning" he turned to look at her, catching her mid-stare, as she choked on her words, about to blurt out an apology but he cut her off, "Don't apologise, itâs something I did by choice, anyway, I got through with most of my emails for the day now so that's good. " He locked his phone before finally switching off the car- he was wasting gas for her? "Did you rest well?"Â
She could only nod at his question, as he got out and closed the door, she clumsily followed after clutching onto her things as he made his way to the elevator, locking the car, the beep echoing across the parking lot.
He held the doors open for her, waiting for her to run in as she placed her handbag down, turning to him with a pout, only to be met by a frown- was he angry? Of course, he was, but he did say he stated by choice so why did he-
"Do you realise how dangerous that was? Falling asleep in someone else's car?" his words were direct, cold to the brim, "It's extremely foolish. Just because we know each other doesn't mean you can do that! We're just neighbours, nothing more and even if we are carpooling this isn't safe. Would you do the same in an Uber or a bus? Do you realise this is just carelessness? It's just not how you live in the city or elsewhere for that matter-" he spat, turning to meet her with an intense glare, only to lock eyes with a misty pair, pausing when she dipped her head, "I'm sorry, I know. "Â
"I-I'll be careful next time. Mr.Choi." whispered, her fingers gripping the leather of her bag, he was right, they were just neighbours, nothing more, nothing less, more importantly, this formal arrangement of carpooling was only temporary, maybe she should just take the bus from now on. Jongho was wrong, she wasn't mature enough for this, and she couldn't do this on her own, her fiancĂ© was right, she was childish and clumsy, a little girl living in a fool's paradise at best, too used to being a daddy's little princess.Â
San watched her walk out of the elevator, though he was too petrified to say anything, his own reaction had confused him. Why was he so upset? He was the one who let her sleep? It wasn't like him to raise his voice like this, especially at someone he would compare to a butterfly. What was wrong with him? He was never this bitter. Just like that, he watched her walk into her apartment, the soft click signalling her to lock it. No, he did not receive the usual "Goodnight Mr.Choi."
But then again, did he deserve it? With a heavy sigh, he closed the door, staring at his empty apartment, feeling...guilty? Well, he did just...it wasn't wrong but...groaning in defeat he turned around and walked out of his apartment slamming the door shut behind him.
.
 Pushing up her glasses she frowned at the screen, what kind of schedule was this, all the buses left before sunrise, way before San would even leave, and theyâd leave later as well. In addition to those issues, the bus wouldnât drop or pick her up near the cafĂ©, the bus stops were around five blocks away from the shop. Groaning she slammed the lid shut, what if she just walked every morning? Maybe she shouldnât have moved here, leaving her comfort zone, forcing Jongho along with her- he was a fool, heâd always had too much faith in her and that had always been the problem. At this point, she had once again wasted her parentsâ money and potentially risked Jonghoâs life savings too.
With a heavy sigh, she picked up the laptop and placed it on her desk before coming back to bed, laying back down as she stared up at the ceiling, letting her sullen thoughts lull her to sleep. Only to sit awake when the doorbell rang, looking around her room before it rang again, groaning she laid back down and covered her ears, waiting for it to stop. And it did, much to her pleasure, only the next thing to ring was her phone, she slammed her hand around for it and picked it up without checking the ID, âJongho I swear if youâre calling me because you have a new brew idea, Iâll stab you with a spork.â
For a second she was met with silence, causing her to pull back and squint at the caller ID, before gasping and pressing it against her ear, âMr.Choi Iâm so so-â
âSorry? MhmmmâŠI know, so am I, please open the door so I can do so formally.â
That night, was the first time she had received a formal apology from a corporate worker, one with a proper 90-degree bow, followed by a soft apology. She opened the door to find him standing there tall before doing so, standing back up and showing her a bag, âI hope you like Chinese takeout.â
âI do.â With that she moved to the side, thanking God that she had cleaned her apartment the day before, asking him to make himself comfortable as she set the table. That night Choi San finally decided to learn a bit about her, not too much, he didnât want to get involved in anything other than carpooling, this dinner was just a mere apology for his sudden outburst anyway. He looked around the lounge, the comfortable sofa was different from his, well most of this place was, it had colour, little trinkets that represented who she was, by the window were some succulents, but there was no television to be found, weird.
Once the table was set the two began to eat quietly, that is until she began, âYou didnât have to get dinner Mr Choi, and it's too much-
âI did.â He cut her off, clearing his throat to continue, âIâŠmy outburst was uncalled for, I know it may seem confusing, but I wasnât upset that you fell asleep, I was âŠconcerned for your safety, I know you just moved hereâŠbut IâŠâ he trailed off, especially at the way she was looking at him, like a kid staring at superman, he felt small under her intense stare, no, he wasnât who she thought he was, he was no saint, he was no saviour, he was no one special. Shaking off the feeling, he mumbled, trying to change the topic, âWhy did you move here anyway?â This was a bad move, he had asked something personal, he shouldâve just asked her how he liked it here or how was work going, this question just meant that the answer would get him inside for her life, insight, he perhaps could function without.
Unfortunately, after a few stories in he was hooked, the finance director was up till midnight, not because of his work, no, because one story led to another and he listened intently, letting her do all the talking, perhaps because he wanted her to feel as if she was heard, or perhaps her story sparked some form of joy.
"Lee Soohyuk?" he choked on his lettuce wrap, thanking her when she handed him a can of soda. Gulping it down before clearing his throat as he looked at her, watching her clean her side of the table with a tissue, she was done eating. Or was she not eating in front of him?
"The...the famous corporate lawyer? Damn, I've seen him...once? Twice I think." he blinked at her, noting how she had gone quiet before he gave her a small smile, "He's not that smart you know...he was also wrong."Â
"What?" she paused her cleaning session to look at him, "He wasn't though, he was right Mr.Choi, I'll always be my parent's little princess, I can't even function alone, I dragged Jongho in this and lord forgive how his dad invested in med school for him and he ended up becoming a barista because of me- I couldnât even afford a place of my own- I'm still living in an apartment owned by my parents!" slamming her hands on the table she glared at the food, "He was right, I was useless and immature then, I'm equally useless now, other than Jongho now I depend on you - which I won't I promise I'm looking for a solution but the schedule and drop points are so chaotic and-" her words caught up in her throat, being pushed down by a sob as she slumped back in her chair, pressing her palms over her eyes, no crying, crying is for the weak, for those who are spoiled, for those who give up. Too busy trying to think of what breathing exercises Jongho had taught her, she didn't know when he had come to her, until he placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze causing him to peak up at him.
"Well, I don't know what you were like before...but...I won't say you're useless...Mingi was born here but he still rides his cycle here, and lives with a flatmate," pulling his hand away leaning against the table, stuffing his hands in his pockets- too much skinship is bad- "I... have you ever like managed your resources? Like do you have a plan? An agenda or something?"Â
Shaking her head she wiped her eyes, sniffing like a little girl who got scolded, "I- I thought of buying this apartment from them....and then...then...I donât know."
Nodding San smiled at her, "So you do have a plan. You just need some help figuring it out." reaching over for a tissue he plucked some out of the box before handing them to her, "Let's get your priorities organised first. Make a payment plan or something like that, your business started off well, which means you know how to work that out, you just need help in the...other stuff. Take a leap of faith."
"What if I... fall?"
'Then I'll catch you'.Â
This is what he had wanted to say that night but chose to smile at her, telling her people learn from their mistakes, no matter how small. Fortunately, she had made a friend that day, one who would guide her through, one who also told her to forget about the bus schedule and that they'd still carpool. Unfortunately for him, he might have stepped into a boundary he was desperately trying to avoid. Either way, Friday night dinners slowly became a tradition, a place of dining alternating, a Friday at his and a Friday at hers- something that when he told Yeosang, all the prince-ly man did was stare at him before leaving the office without another word, ignoring San yelling at him,
"WE'RE ONLY NEIHBOURS! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?? YAH KANG YEOSANG!"
.
Cursing to himself he ran down the stairs, Yeosang's laugh echoing around the staircase, "It's not like you're late for a date!" he yelled only for San to turn and glare at him, stopping dead in his tracks, "I'm late to pick her up from work."
"Ah yes, because her being there makes traffic jams a bit more bearable!" he yelled from the end of the staircase laughing when San flipped him off while driving by.
She stood there, leaning against the ceramic pot, the guard didn't let her in, saying she had to mention who she was here to see and even though she had said Mr.Choi, she really didn't know which department he worked in, which is why she was asked to wait outside.
So, here she was, standing in the middle of the rain with her umbrella, staring at the cars zooming past her, the security guard inside the glass cabin giving her an apologetic smile once in a while.
Sighing she looked at her shoes, the pavement not doing much to stop the water from sliding onto the road. The pavement was getting busier too, most people just got free and as much as she loved the city, she wondered, at any given moment alone if this was a risk worth taking. A slight shove from a passerby had her stumble a few steps forward, stopping right at the edge of the pavement, not even a sorry was thrown in her direction.
She turned to glare at the woman running away in heels before a honk caught her attention, turning to spot the familiar car as it slowed down, the door opening for her as the driver moved back onto his seat, quickly she got in, making sure to close her umbrella and shove a plastic bag around it ungracefully, turning to smile at the driver, "hi-"
"Why are you here?" he spat, frowning at her before flicking on his blinker, "It's raining and I said I'll pick you up no? I didn't say you'd pick me up from work."
Sighing she shook her head, "Sorry Mr.Choi." She said that a lot, more often than either would like, it would make his heart clench every time and Yeosang would call him a bastard every time he'd mention this to him in his daily narratives.
"I- what I mean is...I was a bit late so I texted you, you didn't have to come all the way here and stand in the rain out on the street." his words softer than before, as he stopped at a traffic light, glancing at her from the rear-view mirror, watching her pout.
"I- my phone died...so I didn't know and, I was waiting but then when you didn't come...I was worried...about you so I came here and- "She was worried about him, something within him pulled at his heart, she was waiting for him? But before the feeling could settle in, her usual nonstop chatter began, shaking him out of his fever dream, "What's your department by the way, they wouldn't let me in! Said there were so many Chois! Did you know that!?? I mean Jongho is a Choi too, and then there Choi Minho- he's cute, I like him, I like Shinee...do you?"
"I...." unsure of which question to answer first he frowned before he began to drive shaking his head at her, "Iâm the director of the finance department." he sighed earning a chuckle, side-eying her only for her to stop and clear her throat. He nodded at her, ignoring her first half of the statement, though the latter portion had the tips of his turning red.
"Sorry, that would just explain your expensive taste, Mr.Choi...would explain the Windsor knot too."Â
.
She stood in front of his door, checking the time once more, it was almost seven and his car was still in the parking lot. Yes, she had run down the flight of stairs to check if he was still there. She had called him too but his phone was switched off so she did the next best thing, called Jongho.
"JONGHO-"
"It's seven- no, wait- listen your monstrosity itâs not even seven yet, what do you WANT." He yelled, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear, whining an apology.
"Mr.Choi wonât answer my calls or open the door what do I do??"
"My poor baby." he cooed at her in a taunting manner, "maybe you finally did to him what the pressure his job couldnât."
"What? What do you mean?" she asked before deciding to take matters into her own hands.
"Corporate pressure was nothing compared to you, I'm sure he's at peace now-"
"OH, SCREW YOU, I'M IN." with that, she hung up, entered his apartment and marched towards his room- the only place in his apartment she hadn't seen. Knocking on his bedroom door she slowly peeked in, only to be met by a room filled with clothes lying around, the curtains drawn close and the heater on full blast. Stepping in, careful not to step on the clothes she walked over to a heap of blankets on the bed, resting her hand on it as she gently shook it, "Mr.Choi."Â
The lack of movement just had her worrying even more, as she leaned closer pressing her ear against the cotton, hearing his laboured breathing, shaking her head she announced, "Mr.Choi, I'm gonna pull these off!" with that she ripped off the two- no three quilts he was cocooned in earning a gasp as he quickly sat up, hugging himself shivering in cold sweat.
He stared at her with surprised eyes, "W-what are you- shit, what time is it?"
"Forget what about the time, you're burning up." pressing her palm over her sweaty, warm forehead she frowned, taking in his flushed face, pushing his hair back so she could take a better look at him, then glanced down at his ...sweaters.Â
"How many layers...."
"I was cold." he whined, closing his eyes when she carded her fingers through his hair, trying to fix his hair, basically pushing it out of his face, "Of course you are...I'm going to get you something to drink...probably do something else about the fever. You take off your ...layers until then, okay?" she asked tugging at his sweater, earning yet another uncharacteristic whine - or maybe this is who he really was, she was just used to him acting all strong and mighty.
"Okay," he mumbled before reaching for the blanket again only to slap his hand away. Pulling his hand away with a gasp he gave her an offended, traumatised look.
"No." was all she said before going over to turn off the heater and opening the window to let out the stuffiness, "I'll be back in ten minutes and I better see those off you, understood?"
Wow, since when did she become all assertive? He thought to himself but only nodded at her instructions, it had been a while since someone had actually put in the effort to take care of him. This is what a good neighbour would do right? He'd take care of her too, right? He had already helped her make a payment plan that she was using to buy off the apartment her parents owned, he had met Jongho too, a nice but horrible fellow, but one that could push her and keep her on track, much like San he believed in her, claiming that
'If they didn't get her engaged with a man six years older than her, she would've had time to grow. Soohyuk wasn't bad but he was 26 and she was 20, he had a set plan, and she didn't even know what she wanted to major in- I don't blame either of them, marriage isn't a business transaction.
He watched her leave the room, glancing at the handbag on his side table, he'd seen her grow though, a few more months and the apartment would be hers, plus the cafe was getting good traffic so there was no real issue there. Though Jongho did threaten him, reminding him of how influential she was even if she wasn't on her parent's payroll anymore, any funny business would mean his career was over.
Slowly he began to take off the layers just doing what she had asked then falling face forward on the pillow, listening to the clinking of the pots and pans.
She arrived back to him with a tray in hand, for a busy man she always marvelled over how clean his kitchen was, but then again he did remind her now and then how cleaning was a good way to destress. Starting at the sweaters on the floor, the ones he had discarded because of her instructions- guessed the cleaning was only limited to the kitchen.
Shaking her head as she made her way through the maze of blankets and clothes, she placed the tray on his side table, slowly pushing her bag off the table. Sliced fruit and lots of water, followed by some Advil. He wasn't shivering anymore, so that was good, "Mr.Choi!" Turning to him she smiled, "Have some break...fast-" Good lord that some back, like that, was...wow. Â
"What?" pushing up on his hands he turned his head to look at her only for her to cover her face, with her hands squeaking, "WHY DID YOU TAKE OFF ALL YOUR CLOTHES?"
Scoffing he sat up, his headache just adding to his bratty attitude, "Because you yelled at me too and I'm still wearing my pants." Why was she being like this, she was so mean, she even left the window open, he was so cold, his neck and shoulders hurt and it was all because of that damn window, "My shoulders are killing me because of the window you left open too!"
"I-" Lowering her hands she looked at him, sitting on his knees, staring at her with a pout, what a man-child.
"First of all, sit properly, and eat, have the medicine it'll help with the pain and" Bending down she picked up a discarded shirt, handed it to him, "Window stays open or you take a cold shower."
That was all it took for the big boy to sit there, eating his sliced apples, which were never-ending, until he realised, she was slicing up even more, and an Advil later he began to come back to his senses, clearing his throat as he tried to roll his shoulders to ease the discomfort, which ended up being futile.
"I'm sorry for not informing you, I think I switched off my phone after sending in my sick leave." sighing he leaned back against the pillows, shaking his head when she was about to cut another apple, "Please. I'm full."
With a pout, followed by a suspicious glance she nodded, placing the fruit back down and taking his empty plate off his lap. Leaning closer she pressed her hand on his forehead, he was still warm but it was better than before mumbling, "It's alright, Jongho can handle stuff better than me anyway."
Letting out a soft chuckle, his fingers gripped her wrists gently, pulling her hand away from his skin, "That's funny, I remember him telling me how he desperately needs you to deal with all the customers and manage stuff," he whispered, only then realising how close the two were to each other, with her leaning on the bed, her knee pressing onto the mattress next to his leg, "I can see that you really can."Â
"I..." averting her gaze she mumbled a thank you before asking, "How's the pain?" slowly pulling away as she sat back down, but his fingers still held onto her, though he didn't notice, he was holding onto her, as if she was grounding him to reality, or some form of happiness that he did not want to let go, at least not now. She however noticed this new profound clinginess and she'd be lying if she were to say she didn't like it, this feeling of being wanted, of being important and valued.
"Hurts." pouting he leaned back against the pillow, closing his eyes like that would turn off the headache, his thumb mindlessly caressing her skin, "Shouldn't have picked up those stupid weights...Jongho did this on purpose."
"JONGHO?"
His grip tightened when he winced at her tone, shooting her glare for which she quickly apologised, before pestering him, glad she was wearing pants as she pulled her hand away and moved closer to him, standing on her knees on the bed beside him, gripping his shoulders, "Mr.Choi, please tell me. What has he told you?"
"N-nothing." he cleared his throat, trying to scoot away but her grip on his shoulders tightened, fingers digging into the muscle, causing him to let out an involuntary moan before she completely pulled away, "I- Iâm sorry did that hurt."
Groaning he hunched over, shaking his head, "No, no, it felt good...sorry." Rubbing his neck, he looked at her, taking in her flushed features before sighing, "I uh...Jongho and I go to the gym together...he asked because he wanted to go too, I already go there with a friend from work...don't worry your secrets are safe with him."
Nodding at his statement she stood up and moved pointing at the chair she was sitting on, "Sit."Â
Raising an eyebrow, he looked at her, narrowing his eyes, glaring at her, almost playfully. Taking a few moments for her to get all nervous causing her to clear her throat, "I- I mean I can massage your shoulders, I- Jongho uses this oil, uses me like a free massage person too for his neck and-"
Raising his hand, he stopped her, slowly getting off the bed with a groaning sitting down as instructed before glancing at her, "Just don't strangle me, okay? He did mention how you have the death grip of a man."
If she weren't too distracted by the sight of him following her orders, she would've jumped down the window. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the oil out of her bag, yes, she carried that around in case Jongho pulled something like the old man he was.
Once she began working on his neck, fingers pressing into the knots he bit his lip, trying to hold in the sounds that were about to burst through, if this was the privilege Jongho got for being her best friend, he'd sign up too.
For about ten minutes she went on with her usual routine, only to stop when his head fell back against her belly, going limp her hold- Oh. He had fallen asleep. She stood there, holding onto his slouching form, taking in his relaxed features. She hadn't seen him this relaxed before, he almost looked...too cute. Speaking of cute, she had learned many things about him today, from how he was actually just as whiny as he pretended not to be, to how he ate almost 5 apples before stopping, she did notice how his fridge was mostly empty other than having eggs, and leftover take out. Maybe they should have more dinners together, maybe she could cook actual homemade food for him.
Slowly helping him up, he drowsily mumbled something before falling onto the bed, as she tucked him in. Glancing at the time she sighed, she'd spent most of the day here, giving him one more look she reached for his hair, brushing it out of his eyes, "Rest well Mr.Choi."
The next morning San woke up better than ever, he knew the fatigue was getting to him but he didn't stop, he probably had forgotten how to stop. That would explain why he fell sick, but who knew he lived right next door to an angel? What surprised him more was how his entire room was clean, all his clothes were neatly folded and stacked in one place, blankets folded at the edge of his bed and the water bottles no longer littered around. She really didn't have to do so much.Â
Picking up his phone he checked his messages, opening hers first before Yeosang's or Mingi's
'Hope you're better now Mr Choi. Advil is on the console and I restocked your apples. Don't worry, I went to work myself today, like a big girl. You get some rest.'
Smiling at her message he leaned against the pillow, yeah, this is exactly what neighbours do.
.
"A car?"
"Yes, a car." he sighed, turning the laptop to her, "You can get one on loan, I can fix you up with a good payment plan." he smiled at her, only to frown at the way she was frowning at her lap, "What's...wrong?"
"I- No I- thank you, it really does mean a lot." she cleared her throat, trying to control her expression, he was tired of her, he had to be, "I just...are you- I mean if you feel our routine is taxing then-"
Shaking his head he closed the laptop, turning fully to face her own couch, she was sitting on his very expensive couch, crushing the very expensive cushion in her lap, but it was okay, because it was her, and this time, the after work hours, a few hours before would fall asleep had become their time, where she would go on and on about stuff, only for him to add in a few bits- not because he wasn't interested but because he wanted her to speak, he wanted her to be heard, that and he was still too afraid that if she were to find out he was but from a simple background, from a small town like Namhae, she might never come back here. He wanted to watch her grow, he wanted to watch her business grow and bloom into what she had dreamt for it to be, he wanted to help her and this was a way of helping her.
"It's not...taxing. But...you need to" Pausing to take a moment to think, he noticed how her nails were digging into the leather, shaking that thought away he sighed, "You need to be independent, I'm not saying we change our routine, but you should lax yours, you don't have to leave at 6 am every morning and you don't need to come back home at around 8 or 9. Like you couldn't go when I was sick and then took the bus." he paused, taking in her appearance, only to find her pouting at the TV - yes, he had her buy a TV too because he refused to believe watching stuff on your laptop was better than the TV, though just like every other day she'd come over and watch his TV instead saying it's boring to watch TV alone. Reaching for the remote he paused the movie, to get her to only focus on him, having her look at him, "Like I was saying, a car can help you fix that and what if you need to collect your packaging or go buy fresh produce from the farmer's market? You can't always take a cab, it's not safe- you're earning well enough, I'm not saying buy one because of me, I'm saying buy one because it's your need, you shouldn't depend on anyone, not even me."
Clearing his throat, he met her soft, warm eyes, watching her stare at him intently, before blinking slowly at looking at the laptop, her grip on the cushion loosened,
"I like...the red one."
.
"A car? I- is this 4-year plan? SAN NO." Yeosang stared at the spreadsheet before turning to San who was calmly sipping on his warm cup of coffee, the logo bright enough for Yeosang to roll his eyes, "Listen, lover boy, I get your head over heels for her, but this is a stupid idea, four years with the same car, four years and she's still paying it off- what if she wants to change the car??"
"Yeosang, she's not big on change, and four years max, the payment plan is flexible in terms of quotas she can pay, knowing Jongho heâll make her pay it all off within two years maximum." he said as he placed his cup down, leaning against his swivel chair, earning another groan from the man across the table, "Man, just buy her a car then."
"No."
"WHY NOT"
"Because she has to learn."
"And you need to grow a pair, big enough to tell her you like her."
"I don't like her." he sighed rolling closer to his desk to turn on his laptop, eying Yeosang who looked at the papers once more, "No, you do not like her...you convinced her to buy a car, made an entire payment plan for her and told her the initial deposit fee was waved off even though YOU paid it- you don't like her my friend," standing up the marketing director walked to the door of the office, turning to glance at his friend with one final smirk before leaving, "You're in love with her."
.
"Jongho, can you get me more napkins?" she called out to the man who was busy singing in the kitchen, at this point she could just ask him to get himself recorded, she was sure Hongjoong wouldnât say no to either of them. Rush hour was about to start and for that, she needed to prepare, even if the business was booming, they were still short-staffed, and Jonghoâs lack of people skills was dragging the interview session longer than she had anticipated. Though she was partially to blame, she was often too preoccupied with work and then well⊠a certain suited man, from the car ride home to the apartment, to dinner. They had begun to have dinner together more frequently, she often cooked as well, the first time she took a homecooked dish to his place he almost cried at dinner, excusing himself to go to the kitchen for more ânapkinsâ, though from the faint sniffing from the kitchen and how long he took there had her believing her suspicions were right, once he looked at her with puffy eyes. Though she never said anything, smiling at him like she always did, for once feeling as if she wasnât falling behind, cupid could walk right by her and she wouldnât mind, her heart was already on a platter for someone else, she was just waiting for him to realise this little fact. So, she too, was too busy to even go through the files, but one of these days sheâll definitely get back to it.
The little chime of the bell had her look up from the counter, smiling at the customer only to almost drop to her knees at the man who had walked in- no, he was a fairy- could men be fairies? An angel? No, what on earth was this creature, his face holding the same innocence of an angel, but when he spoke, it was as if she heard the grumble of a dragon- damn. Shaking away her thoughts she smiled at him, greeting him as he stepped closer, oh how she loved men in suits- or rather just one man, with the cute Windsor knot, she noticed how heâd changed it from his usual ones.
âIâll have whatever you like.â He smiled at her, before looking around, âThis place new?â
âYes, Sir, it is, may I ask if you have any allergies?â she asked before punching in a combo number, to which he shook his head.
âCash or card?â
âWhat does Mr.Choi use?â
âWhat?â she froze, looking up from the monitor to meet his smirk, well, that was new, âIâm sorry, what was that sir?â
âI said card.â
With that she quickly swiped his card, asking him to wait for a while until she came to him with his order. Yeosang wanted to tell her who he was, but the way she stared up at him like a school girl caught slipping a note in her crushâs locker forced him to stop himself, she looked almost too innocent to bully like that- perhaps he should leave the teasing for San instead.
.
You should've gotten the latest model." the man stormed into his friend's room, earning a look of surprise, leaning right to spot his secretary raise his hands in defence, Mingi was always so useless at times like this.
"Dude, in a meeting." he sighed gesturing at the muted call, only for Yeosang to snort, roll his eyes and sit down cross-legged across the man, sipping on a cup of coffee, "I cannot believe you let someone like that wait in the rain for you," he mumbled as soon as San joined the call once more, back to business.
"What-" he looked up from the screen to glare at the brunette pausing at the cup, oh, "Oh you went-
"Of course, I WENT- I had to check her out okay and I- you really are a d*ck, she isn't slow-witted at all, she's just cute. That's how girls are, not that you'd know you simpleton."
"San your mic isn't muted" They heard a chuckle only for him to panic and Yeosang to choke on his coffee, both men apologising to their boss who just laughed it off- luckily the meeting was being held during the break, which meant this conversation could happen since they were off the clock for a while.
.
Much like any other day off, San had decided to do his basic house chores, and since his neighbour now had her own car, he didnât need to worry about that today which was good, because he really did need to clean up. With the trash bag in hand, he walked out of his apartment, only to stop and stare at the figure hunched over by the elevator, what the- oh wait what?
 Jogging over to her he tapped her shoulder, âAre you okay?â placing the back down he crouched down to get a better look at her face, only to frown at her pained expression, âWhatâs wrong?â
âN-nothing, just came back from the docâs.â she sighed before slowly straightening back up, giving him a faulty smile, âAllâs good Mr.ChoiâŠ.cleaning day today?â she mumbled, changing the topic as she made her way to her apartment, not really giving him any time to answer.
She was almost in bed when she heard the front door beep open, man, she shouldn't have shared the passcode. Nonetheless, she walked back out to find him standing there in her hallway, frowning at her before marching towards her, "What happened? Why were you at the doctor's?"Â
"I'm fine, just a bit sick I-" pausing her eyes clenched shut, whimpering as she held onto her stomach, trying to breathe out the pain.Â
"That's it, we're going to get you checked again." he declared, grabbing her wrist before she snatched it away, "NO! Leave me alone." He blinked at her, taking in the sudden outburst, somewhat offended, did he overstep a boundary? Scanning her pale face he noticed the way her lower lip trembled, was she...going to cry?
"Please..."
That was all it took for Choi San to leave, not forcing her for anything. If she wanted to be alone, fine, she'd be alone, but she didn't need to yell at him like that, and then cry, that just confused him. Maybe she was offended that he came in even though she clearly tried to avoid him, but...they'd usually just walk into each other's apartments like that, that wasn't new. His phone ringing was what had him stop the brooding session, picking up the call,
"Hey."
"You need to help your stupid neighbour."
"I...well she told me she wanted to be alone Jongho, I think she's sick but won't go to the doctor," San mumbled, a bit too desperately.Â
"That..." he could practically see Jongho roll his eyes at him, "Because it's that time of the month."
"What time of the month?"
"Choi San, do you have a sister?"
"Yeah, why?"
".... she on her period man- look, I called you because we cancelled all the interviews for a new hire today but this one moron won't listen and I know he's going to go to her place so you gotta tell her."
"WAIT WHAT- she was in so much pain though." no wonder she wanted him to leave, no wonder she yelled at him and then began crying.
"Mhmmm...kay bye".
"JONGHO WAIT-" he looked at the phone and sighed, this man just wanted him to lose his mind, nothing else. He'd do this to him often, even at the gym. Like when he'd be lifting weights, that one time when San accidentally dropped a dumbell on his foot when Jongho casually told him, "Did you know she's in guys with nice butts, and apparently when I stare at a lady with a nice butt for a while, she calls me a pervert." Or the time he almost lost his footing on the treadmill while running, Jongho who was casually standing next to him, staring at his reflection through the mirror, "Glad she hasn't seen your arms, she has a thing for being put in a WWE style headlock." yet, here he was telling her that her secrets were safe with Jongho.
.
She felt someone tap her shoulder, her soul almost left her body, her scream muffled by his palm as he held her down, "It's me, it's me..." he whispered, pulling away slowly as she sat up, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it, repeatedly, "WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!"
Clicking his tongue, he snatched it out of her hand and glared at her, though he wasn't angry, his annoyed expression just confused her even more when he pointed at a brown paper bag he had placed beside her. His face flushed as he averted his gaze, clearing his throat, "Jongho said...someone's coming for an interview. This has...stuff for you...I don't know what you particularly use, so I got...most of it."
"What do you mean, I cancelled the interviews and what did you bring for me-"
The doorbell cut her off, her eyes widening in disbelief, no, did Jongho really give her address? She was fighting with the blanket, trying to get it off her when he stopped her, gently pushing her back to lay down, "It's fine...I'll interview him."
He was about to leave but she gripped his wrist, "No, Mr.Choi it's fine, you've done more than enough-"
"You took care of me last time." he smiled at her before taking something out of the paper, "Now let me take care of you." placed the item in her lap he rolled his eyes when the bell rang again, leaving the room.Â
What in the name of everything did Jongho tell him? She looked at the chocolate bar, it was her favourite, and she had only mentioned it once, oh my god, did he know she was on her period? Snatching the bag from the edge of the bed she turned it over, its contents falling all over the place. Good grief.... this man...he had gotten her every product he could find. Napkins, tampons, he even bought her heating pads, and other pain medicine, by the time she was done counting the things he had gotten her she was already crying, ugly sobbing at best.
San went to the door, opening it to be greeted by a man with sharp eyes. Technically, his overall appearance was sharp, from his features to his suit- was he really wearing a suit? The only thing about him that seemed remotely soft was his hair, though he looked like a fresh graduate so why apply to a cafe, that too one that was a new seed in the market?
"Good afternoon. Is Ms.L/N here? My name is Jung Wooyoung, I had an interview appointment with her-"
"At the cafe but they were cancelled." San cut him off, leaning against the door as he tried to stare down the shorter man.
Wooyoung stared at the man in sleeveless sweatpants, who was he? Husband? Boyfriend? Some annoying friend? He could pick a fight with him, but then he needed this job, really did.
Clearing his throat, he nodded, before bowing, "I apologise for the intrusion but I thought my eagerness may have a positive impact."Â
San stared at him, the perfect 90°, he'd seen that before, many times, he'd been there before too. He knew the feeling, the anxiety and dread that accompanied it, the desperation to finally achieve something. Finally, put the years and money spent on education to use.
"It's...fine, come in."
That's how Wooyoung found himself sitting on a brightly coloured couch, looking around, though he saw no signs of masculinity anywhere, so her boyfriend didn't live with her. He knew his way around the place though. Who was going to interview him though?
San walked out of the kitchen with a tray of tea, placing it on the coffee table as Wooyoung thanked him, getting up to take his mug. No, everything was too feminine so does this mean- what if this dude was a serial killer? Oh my god!?! Did he KILL HER AND IS NOW GOING TO KILL HIM? IS THIS COFFEE POISONED?? Slowly bringing the mug to his nose, sniffing it.
San raised a brow at him, what on earth was this psycho doing? He was about to ask when they heard something crash, instantly getting up he turned to leave, pausing for a moment to loom at Wooyoung, "I'll be right back, please stay here."
Oh my gosh, he was a killer! Wait, she was still alive! He could help her? What should he do? Think Wooyoung, think! Standing up he walked down the same path he did, peaking through the door left ajar.
San frowned as he picked her up, ignoring her whines, "What exactly were you doing?" he asked walking over to the bed, holding her in his arms as she covered her flushed face with her hands mumbling "The clock stopped working."
"Seriously?" quirking a brow at her he stopped walking, looking at her then at the bed, stuff scattered across it, files, pens and her laptop, "Didn't I tell you to rest?"
"I was but then I heard Mr.Jung and I wanted to read his file," she explained, leaning against his chest, mentally noting how he was holding onto her like she weighed lighter than a feather.
He clicked his tongue in protest, about to talk about how he'd handle it but the door burst open, a Mr.Jung stomping in, holding an umbrella in hand, "UNHAND HER YOU PERVERT!"
She flinched when the door slammed open, squeaking as she hugged him close, burying her face in his shirt, arms wrapped around his neck, curling into him as if he'd protect her. On the other hand, San stood there rooted at the spot, at first he was confused as to what Wooyoung was even doing until he noticed the faux bravery morph into some form of fear, his panic setting in.
Wooyoung stood there, umbrella in the air, taking in the sight before him, a man carrying a woman bridal style...oh shit they were together. Please did he Wooyoung himself again?
.
"I am so sorry Miss-"
"It's alright." she cleared her throat, never in her life did she think she'd interview someone whilst being in her pyjamas, the little hearts printed on her shirt and pants. Next to her San sat at a good distance, his face as red as the pot of a plant near the window, intently staring at the coffee table, not even listening to the two converse- he wasn't carrying her around for fun! He was just helping her! She fell off the stool because of the stupid clock and- and her back hurt so his brain just...picking her up was easier and-
"Mr.Choi?"
"Hmm?" instantly turning to her, he regretted it as quick, taking in her soft gaze, almost wanting to crumble at the feet, shit, this wasn't good.
"I said I should hire Mr.Jung, right?"
"Uh...I guess?" he mumbled, discreetly glaring at Wooyoung when she began reading his credentials too, they were good, but managing to be a distinguished student in the country's best culinary school wasn't easy.
"I- I'm sorry for intruding Sir." he cleared his throat, if he had to kiss this man's pointy polished shoes to get this job he would, "I should've known you're her boyfriend, it was a lack of better judgement on my part." He paused to look up at him, only to find the man before him malfunctioning, then glancing at the woman who looked like she was swooning, almost awake inside a dream.
"We're just neighbours!" he blurted out, not liking how Wooyoung's neutral expressions morphed into the sassiest, most judgemental look of 'Nah, I don't think so', as he hunched over the table to take a better look at the two.
"I live next doo-"
"You're hired Mr.Jung, I'll see you tomorrow at work!"
.
"Wow, that's...kinda regret not being there to see it." Jongho hummed, taking out an apron and tossing it to Wooyoung who cleared his throat, "I mean, I didn't intend to make things awkward."Â
"Sure man." was all Jongho said before patting him on the back, "But until she comes back to work, you're on counter duty, kitchen is off limits." with that he walked away, leaving the new employee to sigh in defeat, looking around at the empty cafe. Considering she was 'still sick' she'd left Jongho in charge but that man was too busy not interacting with customers and staying hidden in the kitchen, occasionally singing out loud- at least he could sing.
He stared through the glass doors, looking at the people passing by, everyone with a purpose, yet, here he was still trying to find his purpose.Â
The doors opened and someone walked in, phone pressed onto his ear, his coat neatly folded in half, hanging off his other forearm, the buttons of his waistcoat fighting for their lives when the man heaved out a heavy sigh, "No Mingi, the report is supposed to be sent to Mr Park from the IT department, Park Seonghwa, send it to him and get back to me." A frown was permanently etched onto his face, brows knitted together as he pulled his phone off his ear and stuffed it in his pocket, only froze when he looked at Wooyoung.
The two just stood there staring at each other for a good ten seconds before Wooyoung cleared his throat and greeted him, "We can pretend nothing happened Mr.Choi."
Scratching his neck the businessman nodded, licking his lips out of embarrassment, "Yeah...sure"
"So, what can I get you, unfortunately, the menu still comprises of the usual since I'm not allowed in the kitchen till the boss lady comes." His professionalism impressed San, honestly, he did think the guy couldn't pull it off but he was glad he wasn't mentioning yesterday at all.
"Oh umm... Jongho knows I called him-"
"Yes, yes, no need to wet your expensive pants Mr.Choi." the kitchen door opened as Jongho walked out with two giant paper bags, San's eyes scanning the change of printing, somewhat proud she took his suggestion on investing in merchandise printing.
"Here's your usual, one for Princess Mingi and the other princess who lives next door." Placing the bags on the counter he smirked at the man, who cleared his throat, trying not to look at Wooyoung whose resting b*tchface was back, comprised of the look which San easily read, 'Nice to see a clown clowning himself.'
"So, aren't corporate breaks supposed to be like...40 minutes long?" Jongho asked, leaning against the counter as he sighed, "You gonna hurry there and back or you gonna eat with her-"
"I- she has to give paperwork for you that's why she called me, I had a half day anyway." He mumbled, quickly taking out his card that Wooyoung slowly took from him, side-eying the man, who was still mumbling excuses, though all Wooyoung could hear was "We're just neighbours".
Of course, they were just neighbours.
.
Shit. Of all the times his car decided to throw a tantrum, it was now. Not only did he leave work late but it was raining, so now, Choi San sat in his car staring at the empty highway, the streetlights his only companion. Clicking his tongue, he tried to switch on the engine again, trying to press on the gas, only for the vehicle to whine in refusal. Sighing he gripped the wheel, resting his forehead against it, sighing at the coolness of the leather. What could he do? Get a cab? No, no cabs would be around right now. Call Yeosang? No, he lived in the opposite direction, he would come to help him, but he knew the man had a presentation due tomorrow. He couldâŠcall her. He didnât want to though; things had become a bitâŠawkward.
Truth be told he didnât really want to admit it, but after the Wooyoung incident, he tried to pretend nothing happened and to his amazement, she did too, their routine was as normal as ever, conversations would flow easily, though sheâd still do most of the talking. Until one particular Friday night when they were having dinner at her place, she told him she wouldnât be carpooling anymore because she had finally gotten used to driving and needed to go to other places. Although he was proud, his smile indicating his happiness and joy to see her bloom into a beautiful flower, a nostalgic and heavy blue began to spread in his chest, weighing down on his appetite, as he slowly put down the fork, pushing the plate ever so gently and discreetly, looking at her intently when she began to show him the route sheâd take to the market, asking him if it was good or if there was another route. Unfortunately, was too busy looking at her to even care, to even give an honest opinion, she was glowing that night, and he could bask in her warmth forever, but there was no such thing as forever, he knew that happy endings were nonsense, especially when it came down to him. So, after that night, he had slowly begun to distance himself, making sure to leave before sheâd wake up and come back later than usual, texting would just comprise of him sending one-liner responses, and heâd even cancelled some of their dinners together saying he had to stay in the office late. Yeosang had asked him a few times about her, but all heâd say was that she was busy and he didnât want to interfere- that was true though, it was he who helped her out with all the planning and the financial agenda, it was him who supported her endlessly, who pulled her back up to her feet when sheâd be close to giving up- but that didnât mean he wanted to watch her fly away from the front row seats, no, heâd rather see his swan take flight with grace and elegance from the sidelines, heâd be there, heâd always be there, but like her shadow, after all, he too was afraid of being hurt, he couldnât handle it, not again, after all, they were just neighbours.
A tap on the window had him jerking back into sitting properly, blinking away the blurriness he turned to the window, eyes widening at the figure outside before lowering the window, âWhat are you-
âNeed a ride?â she smiled, trying to conceal any other emotion bubbling within her, her grip on the umbrella tightening when she noticed his frown, not responding to her question, though she could see the questions swirling in his eyes, possibly at the tip of his tongue, but she knew heâd never ask, just keep them in, let them simmer into something else, probably guiltâŠor anger.
âI had to do a complete inventory check today so I closed up late. Was driving by and I saw your carâŠâ gesturing towards her own car that was parked in front of his, the hazards blinking in the rain.
âMy carâŠbroke down.â He mumbled, before reaching for his bag and nodding at her, letting her move back before coming out of the car, waiting for the rain to pour down on his already defeated parade, but that didnât happen, for she had extended her arm to full height, tilting forward so he was covered by it, letting the water splash onto her head instead. There she went again, worrying about him, trying to rip open the bag he was gripping onto tight, not wanting anything to spill out.
.
Patting the droplets off her she pulled out a few tissues and dried her hands. He sat next to her, buckled up, laptop bag on his lap, even though she had told him to put it on the backseat but he refused, holding onto it like a child throwing a tantrum. Theyâd been driving silently for a while, the only sound between them was of the rain slapping against her little red card.
âThanks.â
âFor what?â she asked, trying not to speed on the slippery highway, the rain had worsened, who knew a light shower was going to turn into a full-blown storm? The problem wasnât the rain in general but visibility was becoming an issue, well, there was this third party between them, a form of invisible wall that was keeping the two apart, or rather he was being pulled away, while she just held onto him, trying to pull him back to her, though ever so slowly she could sense that he was letting go of her hand.
He never responded to her question, just continuing with the silent treatment. Sighing out of frustration she flicked the left blinker before slowly parking across the yellow line at the side of the road, before them the road was barely visible, she thought heâd question but he didnât he wasnât stupid, even though he didnât want to be here, stuck in the same space as her, too afraid heâd blurt out all he had hidden, he knew even if he took the wheel instead of her, he couldnât see through the rain. So, the two sat in silence, as if the other wasnât there, one of the most awkward the two had been with each other like they were strangers all over again. That is until she finally decided to take matters into her own hands,
âAre youâŠupset with me?â
He looked up from his lap to her, a small pout present on his lips before shaking his head and turning back to stare at his lap.
âDo youâŠnot want to be friends with me anymore?â she knew these questions were somewhat pointless, in the time they had spent together she had learned one thing, that he was rarely bothered by her, in fact sometimes heâd go out of his way to make her feel better, make her feel safer, so what bothered her was not knowing what had he pulling away like this. She thought as sheâd grown more independent, heâd be happy, proud of her progress, not this.
âNo.â
Was all he said, not even bothering to look at her, instead choosing to take out his phone, maybe he could just check on work or- he couldnât though, because she snatched it out of his hand. His head whipped in her direction, and a glare followed, âGive it back.â He spat only for her to shake her head and shove it in the pocket of her, shaking her head.
âI said give it back. Iâm not joking. Iâm not in the mood.â Groaning he leaned closer to her, trying to reach for her pocket but she slapped his hand off his pocket, only for him to grip her wrist, trying to hold his anger at bay.
âNot until you tell me why you hate me!â she yelled tugging her wrist out of his grasp.
âI DONâT HATE YOU!â he yelled back, turning to her completely, his laptop bag falling off his lap, God this car for so small, he barely had leg room!
âTHEN WHY ARE YOU PULLING AWAY!â
âBECAUSE I CANâT STAND AND WATCH WHILE YOU LEAVE ME BEHIND!â
âI- she froze at his words, the weight of the statement settling in around them. Letting out a sigh he turned around, rubbing his face with his hands, trying to control his breathing, trying to stop his thoughts from running around, pushing and shoving every emotion he had buried in below. For a moment he even thought of stepping out in the rain to cool down, but the gentle grip of his shoulder stopped him.
âMr.Choi please I would never leave you behind, I-
âOh, stop it, would you.â He scoffed, brushing her hand off his shoulder, âIâve known you for what? Six, seven months now and you still donât call me by my first name, I- I literally use your name and youâre so impersonal that â
âI donât know your first name.â
Once again, they were greeted with silence, at this point the sound of the rain was the only thing keeping the two from exploding at one another, a series of bottled-up feelings, emotions that were untouched for so long, that the layer of dust on them had turned into a sheet of sand, one that had obscured rationality and logic.
âWhatâ Taking in a deep breath he began, âWhat do you mean?â
Rolling her eyes at him she huffed, âBecause you never told me, not once, since the day I met you the only way I found out your last name too was because the security guard greets you as Mr.Choi, and he did that the first next you dropped me home.â Taking the phone out of her pocket she placed it on the dashboard in front of him, âI donât know why you think Iâd leave you; I now own the apartment next to you thanks to you, I have dinner with you almost every other day, I let you carry me around when Iâm tired, I cook meals for you not because I am obligated but because I want to, I- I ask you for help all the time with the full confidence that youâll never say noâ, pausing she looked at the road, the rain had slowed, much like the whirlpool of unkempt emotions that were stirring between them, â and if you havenât realised by now, Iâm not very big on change. So, no, Mr.Choi, Iâm not going anywhere, anytime soon.â
âSanâ he whispered, staring at the road ahead, much like her, too afraid to even look at her, who knew all it would take was a confession like that to calm him down, put his worries to rest, untying the bag he had knotted up so well after he had his broken heart handed back to him.
âNice to meet you San.â Was all she said before starting the car, now driving home, after the much fearsome, prolonged storm. No other words were exchanged, but unlike before, the silence was no longer awkward or heavy, it was pleasant, a new kind of pleasant, one that oddly enough he was welcoming.
The ride up the elevator was no different, the two were walking casually like nothing had happened, though San knew something had happened, and for some reason, the bitter-sweet reality of it made him want something more to happen, he was only looking for the right moment for it to happen.
She was about to enter her apartment when he called her out, causing her to turn around and almost bump into him, when had he come so close?
âI donât want to be just neighbours anymore.â
Facing him properly she nodded looking up at him, âI see, then what do you want?â
âIâŠâ averting his gaze he thought for a moment, wondering if he could jump into it, or take caution and slowly see where it goes, though the little critter in his chest was begging him to let loose, his rationality projected by his fears had him second-guessing almost every micro decision he had come up with in these seconds, âIâŠwantâŠmore?â
âThen,â pursing her lips together she narrowed her eyes at him, moving closer to see if heâd move back, but he didnât, he stood there, staring at her intently, shy yet so curious, sheâd barely ever seen him like this before, her lips curving into a smile, âLetâs take it slow?â
He nodded a bit too eagerly at her question, earning a chuckle from her, as she turned around and pointed inside, âDinner? Though itâs late, I can make us something light?â He had followed her inside that night, somewhat nervous about starting a new chapter in his life, yet, excited like a little boy about to win a race.
.
âMr.Choi, thereâs uhhâŠthereâs someone here to meet you?â Mingiâs voice blared out of the speaker causing San to stop typing, frowning at the time, it was 11 am he had no meetings for the day, so why would someone just pop up, Yeosang was on leave today as well so- the door opened and he could hear Mingi calling someone out, âMiss! Wait Mr.Choi hasnât allowed you to-
âIt'sâŠfine Mingi.â He nodded at his assistant, before his eyes locked with her, her smile radiant as ever, as she coly made her way to his desk, âHi San.â âSanâ, sheâd been using his name more often now, all night even at dinner, sheâd somehow slip it in every sentence and heâd somehow slip into that gooey pool of mush every time his name would roll off her tongue.
âYou- you had a day off today, right? Do you want to spend time together, I-â he stood up, quickly trying to clean his desk though she placed something on the empty corner of the glass table, âI just came to drop off your lunch San, I made special cookies today, and if you like them, weâll introduce them, Wooyoung even decided a name for them.â
âOh?ïżœïżœïżœ he asked, his eyes sparkling at the sight of the lunch boxes, a well-fed boy was a happy boy and he was so glad sheâd feed him well, even when they were âjust neighboursâ. So, knowing she was still doing that, only adding onto the perk by coming to him and surprising him at work had something within him strangling his heart in joy, âWhatâs the name?â
âWellâŠinitially it was something I wanted to talk to you about if youâd be okay if I call you that, but then he said we could name them after that, but I feel like only I should be allowed to call you that.â She cleared her throat looking around his spacious office, she never thought his office would be this big or high up for the matter, not a day went by where this man didnât amaze him.
He stopped opening the boxes to look up at her, âWhat do you want to call me?â
âSannie.â
.
Things had been great, well, somewhat, although they were âno longer neighboursâ, there was still no official label and it confused San how she was alright with that. Sure, theyâd spend more time together now, sheâd drop by sometimes before lunch just to drop off his lunch, but he was still San at work, and only Sannie when the two were alone. Moreover, theyâd never really beenâŠphysical. Not that he didnât want to âdo the deedâ or something- well, technically- no he did but, this isnât what he meant, he knew they were taking it slow, but sometimes, heâd feel the affectionate Sannie resurface and it would take everything in his power to hold him back. What if she wasnât into that? What if she thought he was clingy overbearing or too sensitive? Would she think heâs coming on too strong if he asked âwhat they wereâ?
âSannie?â she asked, poking his shoulder, âYou arenât eating, donât like the food or the movie?â Placing her plate on the coffee table she paused the film when he didnât look at her, âSannieâŠyou gotta talk to me about these things, I canât read your mind-
âWould you like to start a business venture with me?â In front of him was not her Sannie or San, no, turning to face her with a hard face and honest eyes was a man sitting up straight, hands pressed against his knees, it was Mr.Choi.
âUmmâŠIâŠlike a collaboration?â
âYes, of sorts.â
âIâŠI mean I donât really need Jonghoâs permission it is just my business.â
âIt is.â
âI guessâŠbut donât you already have a job, San?â was he planning on quitting?
âI do, but this venture is more important, I prefer it over my job.â
âSannie, my cafĂ© is doing good, but quitting your job for it, especially at the designation youâre at itâs not logical-
âBe my girlfriendâ, he yelled in frustration, cutting her off before meekly averting his gaze, âPleaseâŠâ
âIâŠâ she took a minute to think before scooting closer to him, his fingers digging into the material of his pants, though when she placed her hands over his, he visibly relaxed, âI just love how youâre so uptight Mr.Choi.â
She smiled, but he only frowned at that, why would she call him by his last name? Did he do anything to upset her? Was he perhaps moving too quickly for her liking? Or should he have been more romantic- actually this wasnât really romantic at all, he canât believe he just did that, he shouldâve thought this through, he shouldâve planned properly, it had only been a month and â
His brain switched off because of the sudden pressure on his lips, hands automatically reaching to hold onto the source, she wasâŠkissing him? His eyes closed when she slowly moved closer, helping her onto his lap as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, taking charge, until she slowly pushed him back, his back pressing against the sofa, eyes flickering open to meet her flushed face, a small smile gracing her lips, he had smudged her lipstick- nice.
âDo IâŠtake that as a yes?â he sighed, body completely relaxed, his hands giving her waist a gentle squeeze.
âI donât know, maybe we should seal the deal again?â
His chuckle echoed across the room, film and food long forgotten, the only thing he could focus on was her, and slowly, he began to feel as if the gates he was trying to keep closed were merely inches away from bursting open.
.
âWe need to talk.â
âUmâŠokay, why are you slowly letting go of the weights- Jongho, Jongho, buddy, stop.â He wheezed, looking up at his spotter who was glaring down at him, âHow serious are you?â he asked lifting the weights ever so slightly.
âFOR STAYING ALIVE, PRETTY SERIOUS- JONGHO!â he gasped when the man almost let go of the weight.
âShould weâŠstop them?â Wooyoung asked, yes, he too had become their newest addition to their gym buddiesâ group, Yeosang who was walking on the treadmill beside him shrugged, âI donât think so, this is between them, plus knowing San took a year just to confess to her, even though he was treating her like he was her boyfriend, I believe Jongho has every right to harass him.â
âIâm serious.â Jongho warned, glaring at the man who was not only turning blue but was now drenched in cold sweat, shaking his head and pleading out an âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âI mean her, Iâve had to pick up the pieces once and I let it go because the guy wasnât directly involved, but you- you son of a- you have her sitting at the cafĂ© daydreaming about what youâd like to eat at night. You have her calling me at night asking me what shirt youâd think she looks best in? Would you prefer her in pants or a skirt- you have her working her ass off to make you proud and so help me God if you ever even think of hurting her-
Before he could finish his monologue San threw the weights off him, heaving as he stood up, wiping the drool off his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood up straight, his breathing heavy as he looked directly at Jongho, âNever. Do that. Again. And I may be a slow-witted loser but I am no abuser- and herâ he turned to look at the hoodie on the opposite bench, a blue hoodie, there was nothing special about the hoodie, but the fact that it was the first ever gift she had given him, telling him she had a matching one, so they could wear it together at home, âI donât even think I spend a single moment of my pathetic life where I canât be thinking about her.â
By now Yeosang and Wooyoung had gotten off the treadmills and were standing on standby just in case things escalated, but Sanâs confession had them staring at him in awe. Well, Wooyoung was just glad that the clown had stopped clowning himself, but Yeosang, no, he was thrilled if not glad that San had finally accepted to let himself be happy once more, he had allowed himself to love once more- even if this was just the first stage, even if they were still going through their awkward relationship stages, he was just glad to know that things were getting better for San.
Jongho looked at him before nodding, then turning to point at the weights, âThrowing gym equipment is stupid, no wonder people like you who make so much money are careless.â Clicking his tongue at him he picked up his duffle bag, âAnyway, Shakespeare, Imma hit the showers, donât forget sheâs making you pasta tonight, so you better hurry up.â He left San standing there, letting his own speech process, slowly the seed had begun to germinate and deep down he knew, he was counting on it to turn into a field, one she could run around in, laughing with joy.
.
Sighing she slowly pulled away from him, being extremely careful of two things; firstly, to not wake him up and secondly to not cause any harm to his sheets. She didnât want to stay at his place tonight, she even told him no because he had an early meeting tomorrow, and she was on her⊠period, so to sleep over with her new boyfriend and possibly leak on his pristine white sheets was not on the agenda, that and the fact that the cramps were hitting hard and her back was probably broken just made it more difficult for her to find the perfect position.
So, thatâs how she found herself sitting on his couch, hoping to God that the pain medicine would start working soon, or maybe it could take a few hours and San could get a good nightâs rest and by the time heâs about to wake up, sheâd slip right back in and-
âAre you okay?â
âSHITâ throwing a cushion at him she whined, especially when it hit him square in the face, causing him to stumble back, pouting at her, âWhat did I do?â
âIâm sorry, Sannie, I- Iâm fine I promise, I just couldnât sleep and your sheets are clean and-
âYes, I am aware my sheets are clean, so you donât have to worry-
âThatâs why I am worried,â she sighed only for it to turn into a groan as she hugged herself, trying to ease the pain. Oh, he looked at her, heâd seen this before, he knew what had happened, âDo you think Iâll find it weird if youâŠI meanâŠIt's normal if it happens right?â
âIt's gross.â She mumbled only for him to sigh and slowly reach for her arm, âDo you want me to carry you?â he asked as if it was completely normal, ummâŠit wasnât technically? Heâd just carry her around when sheâd refuse to do something or when he was in his playful Sannie mood- which was often only behind closed doors when the suit didnât define him.
ânOâ Quickly getting up she motioned for him to walk first, âWhy-â
âJUST DO ITâ she yelled only for him to quickly turn around and head towards his bedroom, no need to piss off his girlfriend during that time of the month. Huffing out in frustration she âreadjustedâ her pants, trying to reposition the horrid excuse of a lady diaper, no, she did not want him to see this scene, it was not even remotely attractive.
Sighing she laid down next to him, what she had forgotten was how much this man loved physical affection because as soon as she turned to face him, he pulled her closer, her face pressing into his neck as he rested his chin on top of her head, an arm under her head acting as his pillow and the other one securely wrapped around her waist. Now she needed to stay still, especially when she heard him snore, he had fallen asleep so quickly, of course, he was tired, the guilt slowly settling in. She really should have gone home tonight.
Her body jerked when a sharp pain shot across her lower half, her fingers gripping his shirt as she held her breath, trying to restrict extra movements. At this point she could just wither away in pain, waiting for the meds to work before she wakes him up and he throws her out for not letting him get a decent nightâs sleep.
For a few moments, her little movements continued until he abruptly pulled away and wordlessly sat up, to reach for something on his nightstand, probably his phone- man, she should really apologise and leave now, but before she could make her way off the bed he turned around and stood on his knees, slowly pushing her to lay on her front, âUmmâŠSan?â
âYour back hurts, right?â he mumbled, gently lifting her shirt to reveal some of the skin, âI hope this helps, my sister recommended it.â With that he began to rub the ointment on her lower back, trying to mimic the similar motions sheâd use while working on his neck or shoulders from time to time- yes, he had finally obtained that perk. He only stopped when she completely relaxed under his touch, smiling when he realised, she was asleep, gently pulling her shirt back down he got off the bed, tucking her in, making sure to place a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the bedside. Little did she know that she had been in pain all night and not just a few minutes, she dozed off sometime in between only to wake up in pain again, though he had slept through most of it peacefully, which is why when he woke up, feeling her shiver in pain, he realised getting up a few minutes before his alarm rang wouldnât be so bad, he could use the time to help her out, so while reaching for the ointment he had also shut off his alarm, knowing he wouldnât be going to sleep once he helped her out.
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âIgnoring you?â he asked, wiping another cup and handing it to her as she stacked it on the rack with a pout, âWell, not ignoring, heâs justâŠgone quiet like heâs giving me the silent treatment.â She explained, looking to see if Jongho, who was brooming was listening to them, only to find him staring at her, âOh I donât know maybe heâs upset about the fact that your ex-fiancĂ© came here since you invited him?â
âWait- WAIT WHAT?â Wooyoung gasped, turning to Jongho who nodded, âSoohyuk wanted to see her, and she wonât tell me why, she called him here and ironically he and San had entered at the same time, and instead of introducing him to Soohyuk she just talked to him and ignored San.â
âMan, Iâm never gonna take an off again, so much drama in one day.â Was all Wooyoung had said, yet the poor boy got smacked with a tissue, before watching her stomp out of the cafĂ©, leaving the two men staring at her confused.
âUmmâŠdo we stop her?â
âNahâŠâ was all Jongho said, the only reason he even knew about this issue was because the moment he had seen Soohyuk enter he knew something was up, what he didnât expect was for her to go to him instead of San, and ironically, she didnât even introduce San, which confused him even more. The moment he had looked at the other man, he noticed the way his eyes had gone blank, void of any emotion, yet he could see the one hiding behind his eyes, he knew what he was thinking, one of the many things San had confessed to him about- once the two had become official and Jongho would keep tabs on him- was his fear of being left behind, knowing that one day, eventually everyone would leave him, even her. So, yes, when she had walked past the finance director like he was a mere stranger, he knew this would trigger San, he just didnât know in which direction the river would flow.
A knock on the door caused the two to look up, Yeosang just sighed, âAt this point, you should just fire Mingi.â Shaking his head at his friend San called out to the person, permitting them to enter, usually with the glass walls and door he could see who was on the other side, but for the past two days the blinds were lowered, concealing whatever was happening inside his office, much like whatever was happening inside his heart. The door opened to reveal someone he had been avoiding for the past few days, though he never said anything to make her leave.
Yeosang looked at Sanâs expression morph into displeasure, turning in his seat to find the manâs significant other standing there, quickly standing up he smiled at her, greeting her before excusing himself.
Honestly, she was surprised by Yeosangâs reaction, she thought heâd be upset with her, Jongho was upset with her and considering Yeosang and San were good friends, she presumed that San mightâve just told him about the issue, though maybe he didnât or maybe he did and Yeosang is just very good at pretending.
âYou couldâve called.â Was all he had said until he found her standing right next to him, her hands gripping onto the armrests of his chair, turning his swivel chair to face her, his eyes widening at the proximity, they were still at his workplace, what if someone barged in? What if Mingi came in?
âI canât fall behind, Iâm tired of falling behind.â She said leaning closer, not to kiss him, but to make sure he was still looking at her, she needed him to understand her perspective, needed him to understand her insecurities, âHe knows about you.â
Scoffing in retaliation he leaned closer and hissed, âI donât care if he does,â eyes scanning her face for any hint or gesture of insincerity, but he couldnât see it, or perhaps his foolish heart had convinced him once more, deceiving him into making him believe she was his.
âThen why are you upset?â her hands let go of the chair, reaching for his, but he pulled back, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back against the chair as he stared up at her, âFalling behind? What do you mean by that, was this all a race or competition where you were trying to win him ba-
âChoose your words carefully Mr.Choi.â she cut him off, words seething with anger.
âBecause theyâre true?â coking his head to the side he noticed the way her hands were fisted at her sides, nails digging into her palms, âTell me.â
âIâŠâ letting out a shaky breath she looked at her shoes, no longer having the confidence to look at his face, âI couldnât let himâŠI didnât know what he wasâŠgoing to sayâŠI canât lose you; I didnât want toâŠhe came to apologiseâŠnothing more, nothing less. I didnât want you to meet someone who never saw me the way you see me, what if you realisedâŠthat it wasnât worth it anymore moreâŠthat it was a waste of time.â Walking over to the chair at the other end of the table she sat down, eyeing all his paperwork, âIâŠIâm sorry, I shouldâve told you, I canât hold you back just because Iâm left behind all the time.â
He watched her intently, listening to each word, slowly realising what she meant, but he also came to another realisation, they were still walking on eggshells, especially around each other, choosing not to show their greys to each other, choosing to leave out the bad parts of the story, the poorly written scenes and the abrupt jump cuts, yet, this form of false perfection was what was making it worse for them, worse for him, especially when he knew that he no longer liked her. He no longer felt the same attraction- he felt more.
He was in love with her.
Turning to face her, he took a deep breath, his hands on the table, slowly reaching over to hold hers, his thumbs running soothing circles over her hands, âIâŠI wasâŠIâŠI donât want you to leave me too. Before you, there was someone else.â He felt her go tense under his words, his eyes flickered to hers, noticing the settling anxiety, before he gave her a gentle smile, âWasâŠdonât worry, she didnât want my heart anymore and IâŠI guess I didnât want to give it to anyone anymore either. Until you came along, crying outside because you lost the key to your own apartmentâŠI swear I was going to ignore you and leave, butâŠâ Letting out a dry chuckle he glanced at the clock, she often did come by when it was lunch, maybe heâd take her somewhere special today, far from the office and the cafĂ©, âI couldnât, and I donât know howâŠmaybe because you were so patient with me, maybe I saw myself in you, I wanted to make sure you had someone to help you whenever youâd fallâŠbut I was also scared that if I gave you my heart, youâd give it back andâŠf*ck Yeosang was right.â He sighed, giving up on where this was going, trying to pull his hands back but her grip tightened, causing him to look at her in surprise.
âHe wasâŠbut I like itâŠI like that youâre a romantic, Sannie.â She smiled lacing their fingers together, âI wonât force youâŠbut I need you to understand that IâŠI fell in love with you the day you unlocked my door for me⊠I just waited for the day youâd return the feelingsâŠso yeah, Iâll confess, that Iâve loved you from the start.â
His eyes widened at the confession, face turning pink at the realisation, this must be love. The feeling that was brewing inside of him, ready to burst, this must be love. His whole body felt warm and fuzzy, he wanted to run to her and pull her close, almost engulfing her whole being, but his legs felt like jelly, this must be love. Though he didnât need to get up, because she had come to him, smiling down at him as she cupped his face, her thumb stroking his cheek, he looked up at her through hooded eyes, enjoying the warmth, welcoming this nostalgic sensation, this must be love.
âI love you.â He whispered, hands gripping her waist, fingers digging into her, holding onto her as if he were afraid, sheâd disappear.
âItâs about time you realise.â Letting out a chuckle she leaned closer, brushing her lips over hers, about to say something when they heard a static sniff followed by a sob, both of them freezing in act.
âMingiâŠhow long have you been there for?â
âI forgot to tell you your mic was onâŠsir.â
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âCoupleâs activities?â he mumbled, staring up from his book, his reading glasses at the tip of his nose as his girlfriend at the edge of the bed, legs crossed with a magazine in her lap, successfully stealing yet another one of his hoodies. The glow of the lamp illuminated her innocent features, though he knew behind those sparkly eyes hid some agenda that he would soon regret, even though he loved her with all his heart, he had realised long before that being an only child meant that her parents had always kept her busy, books, movies, school, other activities, even got her a Jongho- now that Jongho had completely passed her onto him, it was his job to entertain his princess in the late hours of the night.
âSoâŠlike se-
âNo, you pervert- my God, all men are the same.â She huffed picking up the magazine to show him the list on the glossy, extremely bright coloured paper, the glare of the lamp just making it more difficult for him to read, âThatâs a long list- Iâm not going skydiving- YOU ARENâT either.â
âSheesh, fine, but we can try cutting your hair.â
His hand instinctively went to his luxurious onyx locks, he liked his hair the way it was, and he knew she did too, from how sheâd run her fingers through it when theyâd be lazing around, from how sheâd play with his hair when heâd lay on her lap for a little nap, from how sheâd tug and pull on it when theyâd beâŠ
âJust a trim!â she broke his chain of thoughts, crawling to him and slapping the magazine on his lap, âYou said you needed a trim! And- and itâll be free!â she smiled, giving him the cutest face she could muster, though he stared back at unamused.
âNo.â
âI- but- Sannie,â whining she pointed at the small text, âItâs so intimate and itâs- itâs all about trust.â Grabbing his arm she shook him violently, he almost missed the early stages of their relationship, where she was still shy and nervous around him, now sheâd gained the confidence to be bratty around him, even demanding they sleep at his place because âYou have a bigger bathtubâ, incorrect, he didnât but maybe she just liked using his shampoo- not that heâd mind, he preferred her smelling like she belonged to him, his scent carrying around her.
âHow about a free massage as well?â
"There. All done." He finally opened his eyes to stare at his reflection in the mirror, confused at first, then angered, then even a bit humoured, "Um...what do u think is different with this and my usual haircut?" It was his fault, it really was, he agreed to this nonsense and nowâŠhe even fell asleep when she was working on his shoulders, but that was before she cut- no chopped off his beautiful locks.
"I... I mean it's a bit different Sannie but I-" she tried to clarify, smoothening it down, only to flatten it andâŠperhaps make it a bit worse, see, the thing was, during her little barber role-play, she had realised sheâd trimmed a bit too much on one side, so she had to even it out and that led to ummâŠwell
'I look like a POTATO!" her glared at her through the mirror, face red with embarrassment.
"NOOO! U donât" whining she leaned closer to peck his cheek but he pulled away, whipping his head in her direction to glare at her, then looked at his hair through the mirror again, hands going to pull on the short hair, it was soâŠshort, "Please, I love you, I know you said haircutting is a couple's activity but- babe I"
Hearing a sniff, he stopped staring up at her reflection, he didn't mean for her to cry, but the way she was biting her lower lip tugged at his heart. "I-"
Before he could start a giggle escaped her and he stopped, glaring at her, his face blank like the first time they met, "Maâam, is something funny?"
"No....Mr.Potato head"
.
âGood morning Mr.Choi - what's up with this cap" Mingi looked at his boss who zoomed past him into the office, tugging on his baseball cap, slamming the door behind him as he yelled.
"Nothing Mingi, whatever happens, DO NOT let Yeosang in my office today"
"He's already there, sir."
Frowning San turned to meet eyes with a familiar brunette, his chin in his palm as he sat on Sanâs seat, a little smirk ever so present as he eyed the taller man, all dressed up in a nice suit, the only thing odd about him was the smudged lipstick on his jaw, which he probably didnât even know was there and the baseball cap.
"Your girlfriend dropped you off huh? Car trouble again?'" Yeosang asked, before pointing at his jaw, âYou also got a little something there Mr.Choi, guess the black waistcoat is a fan favourite, huh?â
San quickly made his way to his desk, grabbing the chair the other man was on and rolling it away from his monitor, mumbling as he grabbed a few tissues to wipe off the lipstick, he couldnât even be mad at her because it was his idea to follow coupleâs activity #43 âWear a lipstick shade your partner likesâ, apparently, he liked it a bit too much.
After that little entrance, theyâd been sitting peacefully, with San working away and YeosangâŠwell he was just wasting time as usual, though at least he had yet to ask the question.
âSo, whatâs with the capâ, Yeosang asked as he made an intricate paper plane with another one of San's documents, they were going in the shredder anyway.
The other man, pouted for a split second before clearing his throat, "My head feels cold." continuing typing like he didn't care.
"I see." Yeosang eyed him before throwing the plane at him, watching the pointy nib smack against the man's cap, earning a glare, "So, will you bring her as your plus one to this annual fundraiser? Has she cleared all your tests? Check marks all your boxes of requirements of a partner?"
Sighing he leaned back at the thought, did she? Was she the ideal partner he asked for? Sure, she was somewhat clumsy and bratty, but then again, he wasn't the best either, he was whiney and slow-witted at times but with what they two had been through, how much they had grown, how much she had grown, of course she'd been the one, he had come to this realization when he saw her waiting outside for him in the rain, 'worried about him'.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said eying the man who was too lost in thought as he got up to leave, "By the way she was wrong."
"Hmm?" he frowned at his friend who was dusting off his clothes, "You don't look cute, you do look like Mr Potato head".
.
âSan, I swear upon your Benz, if you turn off the heater, Iâll key your car.â She shivered, pulling another blanket over them as he pushed it off, trying to reach over her for the remote of the heater only to slap his hand away, âYAH CHOI SANâ
âITS HOT! AND STUFFY! IâM SWEATING LOOK!â he lifted his sweatshirt for- Â honestly, she really forgot what his point was, a bit too distracted for her own good before he huffed and took it off completely, flinging it across the room, giving her all the blankets and laying on his back, âItâs barely even winter, and look at you. I said donât go playing in the snow, you can barely withstand a cool breeze, you thought the snow was gonna go easy on you? Youâre just like Wooyoung, both of you are the same with the snow and winter.â
âWell, not everyone has the body temperature of an old, grumpy cat, Sannie.â She huffed, scooting closer to him, trying to steal his body heat, the fabric of the quilt making his skin burn.
âOLD?â
âWell, I did call you Mr.Choi out of respect too, I thought you were wayyyyyyyyyyy older than me.â Turning his head on the pillow to look at her, he made a face, rolling his eyes at the innocent smile she gave him, the tip of her nose still pink, shrugging at him. Sighing he moved closer to her, much to her pleasure.
âTake off your pants.â
âYou really are an old pervert-
âCoupleâs activity #136, you genius.â He huffed manoeuvring so he was under the blankets with her.
âI refuse to accept weâve done so many.â
âWe havenât, I tore out some pages because I was not going to do coupleâs yoga on the balcony.â
âAhâŠI see. Anyway, still not going to take off my pants because youâre a bit needy.â She sighed, when he pulled her closer, his body heat helping her shivering body calm down.
âWell, arenât you just an innocent peach, activity 136 says sharing body warmth is important and intimate, you can use me as a human heater and I can use you like a cooling pack.â He said tugging at the band of her pants, helping her out of them, sighing when he felt her cold legs on his warm ones, making the blanket a bit more bearable.
âWho knew Sannie was so thoughtful.â She purred, nuzzling her face in his neck, earning a huff, his arms tightening around her, squeezing her until she let out an airy laugh in protest.
âI am very thoughtful.â He sighed, feeling her relax against him.
âThat you areâŠMr.Potato head.â
.
Huffing out in both frustration and bliss she stared up at the ceiling, the warm mood lights in her room, feeling him flopping down beside her, the bed trembling at the act.
âTubâs filling up. Youâre also out of bath bombsâ
âYour tub is bigger- how many did you use this time?â
âNo. It is notâŠ. around fourâ He sighed laying on his back to stare up at the ceiling with her, his hands reaching for hers, knuckles brushing against hers before she slowly tangled their fingers together, âThank you for taking me to your event tonightâŠI really liked it.â
âThank you for being my plus one.â He smiled, thinking back to how when anyone and everyone there would ask him who she was heâd introduce her as his girlfriend, the love of his life, someone he potentially wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
âThough I believe making sure I canât walk tomorrow is going to be a problem for me at work.â
âCoupleâs activity #159.â
âDid it specify tearing my favourite dress?â
âNo, but the San in the mirror who used to have nice hair told me to.â
.
Two years, she had been together with this man for two very happy years, yet he still could confuse her every time he asked her something very important, such as now, right in her café, well, technically she was in the storage closet, counting and restocking when he walked in unannounced.
âUmmâŠis there no one there to take your order, Sannie?â she asked, looking up at him, using a carton as a makeshift seat, clipboard in her lap, she didnât even want to do it, but once again, she had lost an epic battle of rock paper scissors from not only Jongho, but Wooyoung as well. The man above her frowned before shaking his head, ever so quiet.
âOkayâŠwas there no one to stop you from coming back here- in an employee-only area.â She asked as he shook his head again, before sitting down beside her on the floor legs crossed, now with the different of elevation, looking up at her with a frown.
âOkayâŠdo youâŠwant to say something?â
âWhatâs your five-year plan?â he asked, rolling up his sleeves before looking at her, his hands on his knees, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants.
âUmmmâŠwellâŠwhat does that mean?â she asked, finally giving up on inventory to get on the floor with him, facing him, sitting in a similar position as she looked at him, noticing how he had closed the storage room door after entering, he needed privacy, so this was an important question to him.
âWhere do you see yourself in Five years?â
Oh.
Her eyes widened at the question, throat drying up as she looked at anything but his face, he looked so serious, so focused, like what he had asked her was just like a business deal, well, maybe it was- but that wasnât all it was, she knew what he meant, she knew heâd have his moments of self-doubt, heâd have moments where the crippling anxiety of having his heart smashed into pieces once more had him awake at night, heâd have his moments where heâd begin to fall, having nothing to hold onto- only this time, he had her.
âI see myself as a Mrs.Choi.â
His ears picked up the all-too-familiar name, his lips quirking up at the mention of his name, blushing like a school girl he almost squealed, leaning over to grab her hands and pull her closer, only his lack of judgement of strength had him pulling her onto his lap- or maybe that is what he wanted to do all along. All she knew was that she was merely inches away from him, his small dimpled smile gracing her with all its glory, âI think I see that too.â
âYeah?â she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck as she straddled his lap properly, âYou see me as a Mrs.Choi?â
âNo.â he smiled, locking his arms behind her waist as he noticed her small pout in confusion, pulling her even closer, until the tips of their noses bumped at the sudden jerk, âI see myself as your Mr.Choi.â His dimples deepened when she gasped, before closing the gap between them, leaving small pecks all over his face, leaving him a flustered, blushing mess as she smothered him with all the love that he had closed himself off to, all the love that was taken from him when his heart was tossed back at him, all the love she had in her that was never meant for anyone else other than him, all the love the two planned to share, for as long as they could, hoping it could bloom into something more beautiful one day.
âAnd I think I see you two getting out of my storage closet before I call the cops.â
Taglist : @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie
#cromernet#k labels#ateez imagine#ateez fluff#choi san#hongjoong#break the wall#seonghwa#mingi#yunho#jongho#fluff#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#atiny#yeosang#song mingi#ateez#atz x reader#atz imagines#choi san x reader#san x reader#san x you#san x y/n#ateez fic#ateez scenario#xikers#ateezedit#Spotify
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Hey, i love ur works. I was wondering if i could request the Cullens with a reader whoâs really good with children and is also a kindergarten/elementary school teacher. Thank uđ Hope you have a nice day
The Cullens with a Reader whoâs good with Kids
I apologize ahead of time for any inaccuracies here. There are no children around me and I do not go seek them out either. Me and kids do not mixâŠ
Anyways thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!
Edward:
We donât really know how he feels about kids before the birth of Renesmee
I mean obviously he loves her, but we donât know if thatâs because he loves kids or just because sheâs his daughter
Either way I feel like he would be good with them
He would love to come help you with your students anytime you want him to
He loves setting up little games for them to play and reading to them
And he loves how good you are with kids
It just makes him go crazy
And then he gets stuck in that spot of wanting a kid with you. It not wanting to put you through what Bella went through
But thatâs a whole different topic
He does have a moment of self doubt
He thinks you should be with someone who is alive and who could give you kids (if you want them)
Not someone whoâs dead and could only hurt you
But he does get over himself
Eventually
Until then he helps you in your classes
All of your students love him btw
Alice:
You know those videos on tiktok of elementary school teachers going all out decorating their classrooms?
Alice is making you do that whether you want to or not
Sheâs buying all of the streamers, decorations, and posters she can find
She has so much fun with it
And she LOVES to dress you up in colorful outfits
If youâre a man or a woman or anything in between it doesnât matter
Cause you are gonna wear this rainbow sweater no matter what
And I have a feeling sheâs really good with kids too
Sheâs never had a really strong desire to have any, but she loves to hang out with them when theyâre around
She helps out in your classroom as much as she can
And if that help is just making sure your streamers are up to fire code⊠whoâs keeping track anyway
Jasper:
This man is scared of kids
There was one time where he was just walking through a park with Alice and a kid tripped and scraped his knee
He almost went ballistic
Kids are so unpredictable and such a danger to themselves and other kids
Way too prone to bleeding for him to be comfortable
So heâs always on edge around them
Not to mention heâs always awkward
He doesnât know what to talk about
He was in your room once and a kid was trying to play with him and he just⊠sat there
Bro is lost
Tried talking about the weather to one of your kids once too
Itâs best to keep him away
Heâs more than willing to help decorate your room though
And grade tests if youâre getting a bit swamped
Itâs just in everyoneâs best interest if heâs only in your classroom after hours
Rosalie:
Do I even need to elaborate
She is THE woman for the job
We all know she loves kids, and if what we saw of her with Renesmee proves anything, sheâs great with them too
So this is literally the perfect arrangement
She loves kids
Sheâs not able to be around kids often
You show up
You are literally an elementary school teacher
Perfect match
She comes over literally every time that she can
And since thereâs nothing technically holding her back, thatâs pretty often
She poses as your student teacher in order to be there all the time
Really, sheâs great with them
And she loves it
And the fact that you love kids and are great with them too instantly puts you at #1 on her list
Emmett:
I feel like heâs also great with kids
They love him
I mean, when youâre a kid, whatâs better than the guy who can swing you around
Very few things tbh
The boys in your class especially love him
They love arm wrestling or racing him
He lets them win of course
He mostly shows up at your classroom around recess
But hey at least he gets all of their energy out before they need to sit down more
Heâs also not someone who dreams about having kids
But if you want them, then heâs all for it
As long as youâre either willing to adopt or willing to go through what Bella went through
But as for him, heâs okay with the little guys you have running around your classroom
Esme:
Another mother at heart
She loves kids
I mean, sheâs dedicated her entire vampire life to being an adoptive mother to about 7 immortal kids
So she is more than willing to help you with anything you want
Your kids absolutely love her too
They always get excited when Mrs Esme comes to visit
She is the best at storytelling
She has their entire attention for as long as she spends talking
And she loves helping you decorate your room too
Of course, she also loves that youâre so good with kids
As someone who once had a child and now has so many âchildren,â itâs important to her that her partner loves kids
Any time you need help, she is there
And she is so excited to decorate your classroom
She brings in candy and food for every single holiday party
Your kids donât need to provide a single thing
That might be why they all love her actually
Jk jk
Sheâs just so sweet how could you not
Carlisle:
He is also a guy whoâs great with kids
I mean, when youâre one of the only doctors in a small town you kinda have to be good with all kinds of people
Kids love him too
He doesnât even really need to try
Heâs just sort of unbothered by whatever kids want to do to him
So if a kid wants to climb onto his back and pull his hair and sit on his head then he wonât stop them
Itâs not like it hurts or anything, heâll live
Obviously though, he canât be at your classroom all of the time
Actually, he canât even be there every once in a while
The clinic is pretty demanding
So he mostly just helps at home
The amount of times when he has graded your kidsâ papers or printed off new worksheets for them while you were asleep is countless
He just tries to support you where he can
And of course his money is your money
You want to throw a birthday party for one of your students? Hereâs his debit card, go crazy
Vampire! Bella:
Sheâs a reluctant person with kids
I mean, obviously she loves Renesmee, but aside from her, sheâs never been good at dealing with kids
Sheâs just awkward around them
Sort of the same vibe as Jasper
Doesnât know what to say to them
She was in your classroom and one of the kids was talking to her
So she just started talking about politics?
Even the kid was confused
But the problem is that kids love her
You donât really know why, neither does she
But something about her just draws kids to her
She prefers to just help you out at home
But she gets frustrated too quick with the little kid writing
âWhat the hell is this supposed to say? Iâm just gonna mark it wrongâ
âBella you canât just do that-â
#alice cullen#bella swan#carlisle cullen#edward cullen#esme cullen#emmett cullen#jasper cullen#jasper hale#rosalie cullen#rosalie hale#alice cullen x reader#bella swan x reader#carlisle cullen x reader#esme cullen x reader#emmett cullen x reader#edward cullen x reader#jasper cullen x reader#jasper hale x reader#rosalie cullen x reader#rosalie hale x reader
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Clean | Hobie Brown x f!Reader
You got yourself into a little bit of a fight, and Hobie has to patch you up.
Mature. 18+. Mention of blood.
The cloth meets your tender skin, and you hiss and try to pull your hand away.
"Hobie, that hurts," you say through gritted teeth. "What is on that?"
Holding your hand tightly to your chest, as if to protect it from him, you look up to see an exasperated expression on his face.
"Stuff to clean it. Give me that back." He grabs your hand a little gruffly, and puts the cloth back on. When the sting subsides, it does feel nice and cool.
"Someone out to teach you how to throw a proper punch," Hobie says, dabbing the cloth gently, moving it up your arm to where your other scrapes are. None of them are terribly deep, except a slight gash on your thigh from, you think, falling onto some broken glass.
"I know how," you reply quietly. He moves to your other arm, and you feel the stinging again. "It wasn't much punching, anyway. It was like... clawing and shoving. It was chaotic."
He gives you your hands back, and looks down at your legs, noticing the cut on your thigh. He lets a whistle out from between his teeth, and stands up. He rinses out the cloth he's been using, and grabs a new one from his kitchen drawer. He puts more 'stuff' on it, and returns to you, sitting down.
"This is gonna hurt." He scoots close, so that your legs are between his, and without another warning, presses the cloth to your cut.
"Oh crap!" you shout, and you're annoyed when Hobie starts chuckling.
"Oh crap!" he mimics in a high-pitched voice, meant to resemble yours. He places a large bandage on your leg, and a couple others on cuts that look a little nastier on your arms, and then sits back. "Think you'll survive," he comments. "Now, you need to tell me why you were in a fight. Looked like a couple of cats in a bag when I arrived."
You turn away, looking from where you sit at his kitchen table over to the TV, which is showing the news. Hobie always has the news on, even though he hates it and everything they ever talk about.
"It just, escalated. She was a fan, I guess, of the band. And she asked if I knew you, and I said yes. And she said... some not nice things. She was just drunk."
You're his whore, then? Do you think I could get in on some of that? I'm sure he's not very picky. I mean, look at you.
You can feel the way she grabbed at your stomach, pinching it. It felt like something scripted out of a bad teen movie, except it was really happening, and she just wouldn't stop.
"What did she say?" Hobie asks. When you look back at him, he's leaned forward, eyes narrowed, lips pursed.
"It doesn't really matter. It's over."
"It matters to me."
You shake your head and wave your hand in the air, as if to dismiss the conversation. "Really, Hobie. It was just, I don't want to relive it."
He reaches out and places a warm hand on your bruised knee. "Tell me."
You roll your eyes and sigh. "She said like, I must be, uh, sleeping with you and your standards must be low because... I'm like, fat, or whatever."
Hobie sits up, his back straight as a board, his eyebrows raised and his jaw a little slack. "And you beat the shit out of her?"
You draw your line into a straight mouth and nod. "Sort of. I mean, I can't fight but, she was bleeding and crying at the end of it. I was bleeding too but, I wasn't crying."
He nods, as if in approval. "Why does she think we're sleeping together?" he asked. "She's seen you, at a show or something?"
"I didn't get a whole backstory, Hobie. I guess so."
"Hm." He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Must've noticed how I look at you. Everyone has. 'Cept you."
How Hobie looks at you? You try to think of what he could be referring to. Sometimes when he's on stage, he finds you in the crowd and smiles. But, you're good friends, so that doesn't seem all that exciting to you - does it seem that way to everyone else?
"How do you look at me?"
"Like I'd like to fuck you, Y/N. Like the shape of your body is all I can think about, and it really doesn't fucking matter what anyone else thinks about it. It fucking keeps me up at night."
It feels like you've been slapped in the chest, and all the air has left your lungs. Your mouth is instantly dry, and your legs feel weak.
Hobie is so dry, so even-toned, it's hard to tell if he's joking or not - but would that be a funny joke right now? Hobie is a lot of things, but he's not insensitive, and he certainly wouldn't try to hurt you on purpose.
"It does?" you ask finally.
He leans forward again, bringing his face just a few inches from yours. "I want you, Y/N. I thought I'd made it obvious, but now I see, I didn't."
You lick your bottom lip, and Hobie glances down at your mouth.
"Can I kiss you?" you ask, and a soft moan escapes his mouth, as if asking for permission turns him on. You feel his fingertips on your cheek, running upwards, until he cups your face in his hand.
You should close your eyes, you think, but the sight of him coming towards you is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. His soft brown eyes, his full lips, his sharp cheek bones, his glistening piercings; you want to remember every sharp edge and round corner.
He pauses, just before your lips meet and whispers, "Anything you want to do to me, you can."
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