#it's not a step towards 'big great love' it's already a great love expressed naturally without need to conquer someone's heart

[dropthedemiurge]

I don't think it's wrong to read it as romantic either because of all the tropes in the industry! (although the story, the editing and authors clearly tells everyone it's not the thing you think it is, the genre is different so the trope might not be working here) To me, it's a bit funny to dig deeper than it needs to be xD

P.S. Also I'm just always salty for people who think romantic love is superior and friendship is not enough, if you want a deeper bond with someone, it must be romantic - so yeah, take it is me being petty and feeling sad for people who never experienced close friendships or have to build imaginary social boundaries with people around :D

People freaking out in youtube comments to High School Frenemy 12/1 about Shin drinking from Saint's bottle of water and sharing bread, shouting about 'indirect kiss' and 'in real life it would be a BL' made me really wonder how many people do not share same food and drinks with their friends 😅

How do they express the affection for their friends then?? How do they show you're on good terms if not by allowing someone to have your share of food and water in need? If a friend asks your bottle of water, will you be like 'yeah wait let us find a cup to pour water for you' or what

[andy-15-07]

A Love Unscripted

Summary: Daniel and Y/N, co-stars on a film set, experience an intense connection that quickly blossoms into love. As they navigate their deepening relationship, they find that their off-screen romance becomes the greatest story of their lives.

Paring: Daniel Brühl x reader

Words count: 2907

Daniel Brühl Masterlist | Masterlist

It was a bright, crisp morning in Berlin, and the air buzzed with excitement as the cast and crew gathered for the first day of shooting. This was no ordinary film set—this was the next big project from a critically acclaimed director, and everyone knew it had the potential to be a masterpiece. The title of the film, still under wraps, hinted at a deep, emotional journey that would challenge both the actors and the audience.

Y/N arrived on set with a mix of nerves and excitement, feeling the weight of this opportunity. It was their first major role, and although they had done their fair share of indie films and theater, this was different. The script had resonated deeply with Y/N when they first read it, and they knew this role could be a turning point in their career.

As Y/N stepped out of their trailer, adjusting the costume that already felt like a second skin, they noticed a familiar face on set. Daniel Brühl was speaking with the director, his warm, easygoing smile lighting up his features. Y/N had always admired Daniel’s work from afar—the subtlety of his performances, the way he could convey so much with just a glance or a slight change in his expression. Meeting him in person, however, was something they hadn’t quite prepared for.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N walked over to where Daniel and the director were chatting. As they approached, the director noticed Y/N and smiled broadly. "Ah, Y/N! Perfect timing. Come meet your co-star."

Daniel turned towards Y/N, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. His eyes met Y/N’s, and there was an unmistakable spark—a connection that went beyond the usual pleasantries of a first meeting. Daniel’s smile widened, and there was a warmth in his gaze that immediately put Y/N at ease.

“Hi, I’m Daniel,” he said, extending his hand.

“Y/N,” they replied, shaking his hand. The touch lingered a bit longer than necessary, and Y/N felt a strange but pleasant flutter in their chest.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” Daniel continued, his voice smooth and genuinely kind. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

Y/N chuckled, trying to ignore the heat rising to their cheeks. “Well, I hope I can live up to the hype.”

“I’m sure you will,” Daniel said, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s. “I watched some of your previous work. You’re really talented.”

Y/N was caught off guard by the compliment. “Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.”

Before the conversation could continue, the director clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s get started! We’ve got a lot to cover today.”

The first scene they were shooting was a pivotal one—an intense confrontation between Y/N and Daniel’s characters. The air was charged with anticipation as the crew set up the shot. Y/N took their position, trying to focus on the character’s emotions, but found themselves distracted by the fact that Daniel was standing so close.

Daniel, sensing Y/N’s nervousness, leaned in slightly and whispered, “Don’t worry, just be in the moment. We’ve got this.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath. As soon as the director called “Action,” the transformation was instantaneous. Y/N slipped into their character’s mindset, and the world around them faded away. The scene required them to confront Daniel’s character, emotions running high as they delivered their lines with a mixture of anger and vulnerability.

Daniel was incredible. His performance was raw, powerful, and it drew Y/N in, making it easy to react naturally. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and it crackled with intensity, as if they had known each other for years instead of mere minutes.

When the director finally called “Cut,” there was a moment of stunned silence on set. Y/N blinked, coming back to reality, and noticed that the crew was staring at them with something like awe. The director had a wide grin on his face.

“That was fantastic!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “The chemistry between you two is electric. If we can capture even a fraction of that in every scene, we’ve got something truly special here.”

Y/N glanced over at Daniel, who was still looking at them with that same warm smile. “You were amazing,” he said softly, his eyes full of admiration.

“So were you,” Y/N replied, feeling the flutter in their chest return.

As the day progressed, the initial nerves melted away. Daniel and Y/N fell into an easy rhythm, their connection both on and off-screen growing stronger with each take. Between scenes, they would chat about everything from their favorite films to their experiences growing up in different parts of the world. They discovered they had a lot in common—a shared love for classic cinema, a penchant for exploring new places, and a mutual respect for the craft of acting.

During lunch, they found themselves sitting together, away from the rest of the cast and crew. It wasn’t intentional, but it felt natural, as if they had always gravitated toward each other. As they ate, their conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and the occasional teasing remark.

“You know,” Daniel said, leaning back in his chair, “I didn’t expect to meet someone who’s as passionate about cinema as I am.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth in their heart. “I could say the same about you. It’s nice to talk to someone who gets it.”

Daniel nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s rare to find someone who really understands what it’s like to lose yourself in a role, to feel that connection with the character and the story. I can tell you’re someone who does.”

Y/N looked at Daniel, their eyes meeting once again. There was something in his gaze that made their heart skip a beat—an intensity, a depth that went beyond mere attraction. It was as if they were seeing each other, truly seeing each other, for the first time.

“I feel the same way,” Y/N admitted, their voice soft but sincere. “There’s something about this project, about working with you… It feels different. Special.”

Daniel’s gaze softened, and he reached across the table, his hand gently covering Y/N’s. “I feel it too,” he said quietly. “I think this could be the start of something really wonderful.”

The rest of the shoot passed in a blur. Days turned into weeks, and with each passing moment, Y/N and Daniel’s connection deepened. Their scenes together were electric, filled with a chemistry that was palpable to everyone on set. Off-camera, they spent more and more time together, often finding excuses to stay late after a day of shooting just to talk, to be in each other’s company.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of filming, they decided to take a walk around the city. The night was cool, the streets quiet as they wandered aimlessly, talking about everything and nothing. Daniel seemed more relaxed than usual, his usual charisma softened by the late hour and the intimacy of the moment.

As they walked along the Spree River, the moonlight reflecting off the water, Daniel suddenly stopped. Y/N, who had been in the middle of a story, turned to look at him in surprise.

“Is everything okay?” Y/N asked, concerned.

Daniel smiled, a little sheepishly. “Yeah, it’s just… I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

Y/N’s heart began to race, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation bubbling up inside them. “What is it?”

Daniel hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

The question caught Y/N off guard. They stared at Daniel, their mind racing. Did they believe in love at first sight? They had always thought it was something that only happened in movies, in the stories they told on screen. But as they looked into Daniel’s eyes, so full of sincerity and something deeper, something that felt a lot like love, they found themselves reconsidering.

“I’m not sure,” Y/N replied honestly. “But… I think I might be starting to.”

Daniel’s smile widened, and without another word, he took a step closer. The distance between them disappeared as he gently cupped Y/N’s face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring. Y/N’s breath caught in their throat as Daniel leaned in, his lips brushing theirs in a kiss that was soft, tentative, and full of unspoken emotions.

The world seemed to fade away in that moment. There was no film set, no crew, no cameras—just the two of them, standing by the river, lost in each other. The kiss deepened, and Y/N felt a warmth spread through their entire body, a sense of rightness, of inevitability, as if this was exactly where they were meant to be.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they shared a quiet moment of connection.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment we met,” Daniel admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled, their heart full. “So have I.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten. It was a perfect moment, the kind that Y/N had only ever experienced in the movies they loved so much. But this wasn’t a script, and this wasn’t a role. This was real, and it was happening to them.

As they walked back to their hotel, hand in hand, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like they were living in a dream. But it was better than any dream they could have imagined—because it was real, and it was theirs.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions, both on and off set. Their relationship blossomed quietly, just under the radar of the curious eyes of the cast and crew. Though they kept it professional during filming, it was impossible to hide the subtle glances, the shared smiles, and the way their hands would brush as they passed each other by.

Y/N found themselves falling deeper for Daniel with every passing day. He was kind and considerate, with a sense of humor that caught them off guard and made them laugh when they least expected it. They had never felt this way before, and it scared them as much as it thrilled them. But there was a comfort in Daniel’s presence, a sense of safety that made them feel like everything was going to be okay.

One afternoon, they had a rare day off from shooting, and Daniel suggested they explore the city together. Berlin was full of history and culture, and though Y/N had been there for weeks, they hadn’t had much time to truly experience it.

They spent the day wandering through art galleries and museums, stopping at cafes for coffee and pastries. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how Daniel seemed to know all the best spots, the hidden gems that only locals frequented. He would tell stories about the city’s history, pointing out landmarks and sharing little anecdotes that made Y/N feel like they were getting a private tour from someone who truly loved the place.

As the day turned into evening, they found themselves at a small, cozy restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. The candlelit atmosphere was intimate, and Y/N could feel their heart racing as they sat across from Daniel, the flickering light casting shadows across his handsome features.

“This place is beautiful,” Y/N said, looking around at the warm, inviting decor. “How did you find it?”

Daniel smiled, a little shyly. “I’ve been here a few times. It’s one of my favorite spots in the city. I thought you might like it.”

Y/N reached across the table, taking his hand in theirs. “I love it. Thank you for bringing me here.”

Daniel’s eyes softened, and he squeezed Y/N’s hand gently. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” he began, his voice serious.

Y/N felt a flutter of nerves in their stomach. “What is it?”

Daniel hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but… I can’t help the way I feel. From the moment we met, I felt this connection between us, something I’ve never experienced before. I don’t want to scare you off, but I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Y/N’s breath caught in their throat, their heart pounding in their chest. They had felt it too, but hearing Daniel say it out loud made it all the more real, all the more intense.

“I feel the same way,” Y/N admitted, their voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been trying to make sense of it, but… I think I’m falling for you too.”

The relief in Daniel’s eyes was palpable, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He stood up from his seat, moving to sit beside Y/N, and pulled them into a gentle embrace. Y/N melted into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against theirs, the steady beat of his heart under their cheek.

For a while, they just sat there, holding each other, letting the world outside fade away. It was as if time had stopped, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble of happiness. They talked quietly, sharing their hopes and dreams, their fears and insecurities. It was easy to be vulnerable with Daniel, easy to let down the walls they had built around their heart.

As the evening wore on, they decided to head back to the hotel, their hands intertwined as they walked through the quiet streets. The city was alive with the soft hum of nightlife, but Y/N only had eyes for Daniel, who looked at them with such affection that it made their heart ache in the best possible way.

When they reached Y/N’s hotel room, they lingered outside the door, neither of them wanting the night to end. Daniel brushed a strand of hair from Y/N’s face, his touch tender and full of longing.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly, his voice full of emotion.

Y/N nodded, their heart racing. They opened the door, leading Daniel inside, and as soon as it closed behind them, he pulled them into a deep, passionate kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of all the emotions they had been holding back, all the desire and affection that had been building between them since the day they met.

They stumbled toward the bed, their lips never breaking contact, and as they fell into the soft sheets, Y/N knew this was where they were meant to be—wrapped in Daniel’s arms, lost in the feeling of being loved and cherished by someone who saw them for who they truly were.

The night was a blur of whispered words and tender touches, of shared laughter and quiet moments of connection. When they finally drifted off to sleep, tangled up in each other, Y/N felt a peace they had never known before. It was as if all the pieces of their life had finally fallen into place, and they knew, deep in their heart, that this was just the beginning of something truly beautiful.

The next morning, they woke up to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. Daniel was still asleep beside them, his face peaceful and relaxed, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile as they watched him. They had never felt this content, this happy, and they knew they had found something special, something worth holding onto.

As Daniel stirred awake, his eyes meeting Y/N’s with a sleepy smile, they leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Good morning,” Y/N whispered, their voice full of affection.

“Good morning,” Daniel replied, his voice husky with sleep. He pulled Y/N closer, his arms wrapping around them as if he never wanted to let go. “Last night was… incredible.”

“It was,” Y/N agreed, their heart swelling with emotion. “I don’t want this to end.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Daniel said, his gaze serious. “I meant what I said last night. I’m falling for you, Y/N, and I want to see where this goes. I don’t care about the logistics or what anyone else thinks. All I know is that I want to be with you.”

Tears pricked at Y/N’s eyes as they looked into Daniel’s sincere gaze. They had been so afraid to let themselves fall, but now that they had, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“I want that too,” Y/N said, their voice choked with emotion. “I want to be with you, Daniel.”

He smiled, a smile so full of warmth and love that it took Y/N’s breath away. “Then let’s make it happen. We’ll figure it out together.”

And so, they did. As the film production continued, so did their relationship, growing stronger with each passing day. They faced the challenges together, navigating the complexities of a public relationship in a private world, but nothing could diminish the connection they shared.

When the film finally wrapped, and it was time to say goodbye to the set and the characters they had brought to life, Y/N and Daniel knew that this was just the beginning of their story. They had found something real, something lasting, and as they walked hand in hand into the next chapter of their lives, they knew they were ready to face whatever came next, as long as they were together.

In the end, it wasn’t just a love story scripted for the screen—it was their love story, one that would continue to unfold in ways they could never have imagined. And as they looked into each other’s eyes, they knew that this was the greatest role they would ever play, not as actors, but as themselves, deeply in love and ready to take on the world, side by side.

[misterfic]

Hey there! Hope you’re doing great. I have a fun one-shot idea for Hell’s Kitchen Season 6. In this story, Gordon’s wife is the third sous chef. She’s 26, and she and Gordon got together when she was 20, marrying at 22. Because of her kind and caring nature, she’s really close to Heather and Scott, who are just as protective of her as Gordon is.

In this scene, Joseph takes things too far by insulting and even threatening her, which sets off a big confrontation. Gordon’s ready to jump in to defend her, and Heather and Scott’s protectiveness escalates the situation. I’d love to see how this plays out with all the usual Hell’s Kitchen intensity! Thanks so much for considering this—I’d really appreciate it!

But if you don’t feel comfortable with it, please let me know!

A/N: As I’ve said before, I don’t watch Hell’s Kitchen🥲, so I hope this pleases you.

Title: Hell Hath No Fury Like Gordon Ramsay's

Summary: A contestant's attitude toward Gordon's wife pushes the fiery chef to his limit, proving that some battles are more personal than professional.

Pairing: Gordon Ramsay × Reader

Tags: Conflict

It was the sixth season of Hell’s Kitchen, and you were living right in the thick of the action. As Gordon Ramsay’s wife and third sous chef, you had your hands full, moving between the red and blue kitchens, helping wherever you were needed. Your soft, nurturing approach balanced the kitchen’s intensity, especially in contrast to Gordon’s fiery persona. Your role was often the one to soothe tempers and diffuse the storm Gordon would sometimes whip up. Despite his bark, you knew your husband well enough to see through it; when it was just the two of you, he was nothing but a gentleman, and his touch was tender, leaving you breathless in ways only Gordon Ramsay knew how.

The heat was on as the dinner service began, and the teams were floundering. Gordon, already wound up, was pacing back and forth, shouting instructions with his usual unfiltered intensity. “Come on! Move it! You call that cooking?” he roared, his blue eyes flashing as he berated a contestant. You saw the tension ripple through the kitchen, and you sensed it was time to step in.

Gordon shot you a look as you approached him, a glint of irritation in his eyes, but you caught his arm, your touch firm but gentle. “Gordon,” you murmured, your voice steady, “they’re trying. Let’s give them a second to catch their breath.” He sighed heavily, running a hand through his blond hair, but softened just slightly under your touch, your quiet presence calming his storm.

“Alright, love,” he muttered, pulling back as he gave you a begrudging nod. “But only because you’re bloody distracting me.” His tone was low, carrying a playful hint, and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks as he let his hand linger on your waist for a moment longer than necessary.

Moving over to Scott in the blue kitchen, you caught him shooting Gordon an amused glance as he leaned in. “Always the one keeping him in line, huh?” Scott teased, smirking as he looked at you with a mixture of respect and admiration. You chuckled, giving Scott a playful nudge. “Someone has to, right?” you replied with a wink.

Heather was equally protective in the red kitchen, always hovering close to you, watching the contestants carefully, especially when they’d make snide remarks about your role in the kitchen. “Don’t let them bother you,” she’d whisper, shooting you a reassuring smile. “You’re the only one who can handle him,” she said with a chuckle. And as she said it, she wasn’t wrong.

That night, the pressure seemed relentless. With tempers flaring and mistakes piling up, Gordon’s patience finally snapped. “Are you lot trying to kill me?” he barked, his face flushed as he slammed his hand on the counter, startling everyone in earshot. You saw him glance toward you briefly, a flicker of something softer passing over his face as he took in your calm expression. It was as if your very presence grounded him, tempering his frustration.

As the dinner service heated up, Gordon’s attention shifted to the red kitchen, leaving you in charge of rallying the blue team. It was a challenge, given the tension hanging in the air, but you had managed to build a quiet respect with the contestants over the season. Most, at least. Joseph, however, had always been prickly, and tonight he seemed particularly agitated.

As you moved past him, helping another contestant with his station, Joseph huffed loudly, his voice dripping with irritation. “Could you quit hovering? You’re getting in the way,” he snapped, his words biting. You kept your composure, brushing off his tone with a calm expression. After all, this wasn’t the first time you’d dealt with outbursts on Hell’s Kitchen.

You turned to face him, maintaining your professionalism. “I’m here to help you succeed, Joseph,” you replied steadily, “so let’s focus on getting these dishes out.”

But he wasn’t having it. “Helping? You’re messing things up. If we lose tonight, it’ll be on your head,” he sneered, crossing his arms and glaring down at you. The insult stung, but you took a breath, refusing to let him see your frustration. The other chefs shifted uncomfortably, sensing the tension escalating.

Before you could respond, Scott stepped in, his expression cold as he positioned himself between you and Joseph. “Back off, Joseph,” Scott growled, his protective nature flaring up. “If you think this is her fault, then maybe you need to take a good look at yourself. She’s here to help, and she’s doing more for this team than you have all night.”

Joseph’s face reddened with anger. “Oh, I get it now,” he spat, his voice laced with contempt. “You’re all just here to back her up, aren’t you? Doesn’t matter if she screws us over; you’re ready to throw yourselves at her defense. Pathetic.” His words were sharp, meant to rile you up, but you felt your confidence waver as his insults grew nastier.

Heather, who had been watching from across the kitchen, noticed the confrontation building and immediately darted over to Gordon, who was busy berating the red team. Tugging his sleeve, she leaned close and muttered something in his ear. His face darkened instantly.

Gordon’s blue eyes flashed as he dropped what he was doing and marched straight toward the blue kitchen, his presence like a thunderstorm. “Joseph!” he barked, his voice echoing through the kitchen. “What the bloody hell is going on over here?”

Joseph opened his mouth to speak, but Gordon cut him off, his face a mask of fury. “You think it’s alright to talk to her like that? You’re gonna run your mouth at my wife?” His voice was like steel, every word laced with barely contained anger. “You’ve got some balls, haven’t you?”

Joseph tried to stammer a response, but Gordon stepped in closer, towering over him. “You’re gonna insult the one bloody person in this kitchen who’s keeping you from falling apart?” he growled, his tone dangerously low. “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but she’s here because she’s good at what she does—better than you’ll ever be if you keep running that big mouth of yours.”

As Joseph shrank back under Gordon’s withering stare, Gordon’s expression softened only slightly as he turned to you. “Are you alright, love?” he murmured, his voice dropping, almost gentle. His hand found your shoulder, his touch grounding you, reminding you of the care he kept so carefully concealed when others were around.

You managed a nod, your heart racing from the intensity of the moment. “Yes, I’m fine,” you whispered, but your voice shook slightly, betraying your nerves. Gordon’s face hardened again as he turned back to Joseph.

“Listen here,” Gordon hissed, his voice a low growl that only Joseph could hear. “You don’t speak to her like that. Ever. You’re lucky she has the patience to put up with a hot-headed twit like you. If it were up to me, you’d be out of here already.”

As Gordon straightened, his gaze still icy, he looked back at the rest of the blue team. “Now, all of you,” he commanded, his voice booming, “get your arses in gear and start working together. You don’t like it? There’s the bloody door.”

As Gordon stormed back to the red kitchen, the tension in the air was thick, but you felt a wave of relief wash over you. Scott and Heather both gave you reassuring nods, their silent support meaning more than words in that moment.

As the night wore on and the kitchen’s frantic energy settled, Gordon pulled you aside for a moment of privacy. “You don’t let anyone talk down to you, yeah?” he murmured, his blue eyes warm as they met yours. “You’re far too damn good for that.”

You managed a smile, your pulse quickening at his protective words. “Thank you, Gordon,” you whispered, your voice soft. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close, his touch sending a familiar thrill through you.

“Any time, love,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that familiar, intimate tone that only you knew. “And next time anyone tries it, you just send them to me. I’ll remind them who they’re dealing with.” He brushed a kiss against your forehead, his affection clear even amid the chaos around you.

As the dinner service finally drew to a close, you knew that no matter how intense things became, you’d always have Gordon by your side, ready to defend you with that fierce loyalty and passion that left you breathless every single time.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Hi hun!! For story in a shell

Favourite trope: enemies to lovers but I think for this fic friends to lovers or second chance fits better? I’ll leave that up to you, you’re the genius writer here

Character: Fred Weasley

Song: Begin again byTaylor (I’ve had this idea in my head for a while and I don’t know why but I think it fits Fred so much specially with like ex!Mattheo)

Thank you so much for requesting this, Yas!! Begin Again has always been one of the songs closest to me so thanks a lot. I hope you like it, even though I hated making Mattheo the bad guy :(

ivy's 1k celebration 🦪 navigation 🦪 characters

ˋ°•*⁀➷ FRED WEASLEY friends to lovers with begin again by taylor swift

The autumn air was crisp as you stood in front of the café, your breath clouding in front of you as you exhaled. You hesitated for a moment, smoothing down the soft sweater you had chosen and adjusting the scarf around your neck. You hadn’t planned to meet him today—not really. The thought of coffee with Fred Weasley had been more of a casual, throwaway suggestion he made in passing, but the sparkle in his eyes when he said it made you want to show up.

Tugging your sleeves nervously, you reached for the café door and stepped inside, greeted by the warmth and the faint hum of music playing in the background. You scanned the room, your heart skipping when you saw Fred sitting by the window, already waving enthusiastically as soon as he spotted you.

He was early. That was the first surprise.

"Hey!" he called, standing to greet you.

You blinked at him, taken aback as he pulled your chair out for you. A kind gesture—one Mattheo never bothered with. Shaking the thought of your ex away, you sat down and offered Fred a smile. "Hi."

"Glad you made it," he said, sliding back into his seat.

You didn’t know why, but you felt suddenly shy. Fred wasn’t supposed to feel so easy to talk to, so open. You hadn’t had a proper conversation like this with someone in what felt like ages. Not since Mattheo.

The waiter brought your drinks, and as Fred started talking, you let yourself listen, let yourself notice the little things. Like how he’d throw his head back when he laughed, carefree, as if everything in the world was genuinely funny. It was strange—Mattheo always brushed off your humor as silly, but Fred? Fred looked like he lived for it.

“You’re quiet,” Fred said, nudging your hand with his. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “I just… I guess I’m not used to this.”

Fred raised an eyebrow. “Used to what? Me?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “No—well, maybe. Just… this. Talking. Laughing. It’s been a while.”

His expression softened, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Well, you’re doing great so far.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the way your lips curved into a smile.

The conversation shifted, and Fred started talking about his family. About how his mum still insisted on family movie nights during Christmas, even though they were all adults now. “You’d love it,” he said. “Absolute chaos, but it’s tradition.”

You nodded, genuinely curious. “What’s the go-to movie?”

“Die Hard,” he said with a grin.

You laughed. “That’s not a Christmas movie!”

“Blasphemy,” he gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’ll have to bring you to the Burrow so you can witness it yourself.”

The way he said it was so casual, as if inviting you into his life wasn’t a big deal, as if it was a natural next step. It made your chest ache with something you couldn’t quite name.

Before you knew it, the coffee cups were empty, and you found yourself walking with Fred down the street toward your car. The cold nipped at your cheeks, but you felt warm beside him.

“So,” he said, hands stuffed into his pockets, “are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?”

You hesitated. Mattheo’s name was on the tip of your tongue, but you stopped yourself. The urge to bring him up faded as Fred started talking about his family again—about pranks and chaos and a love that felt so far removed from what you were used to.

For the first time, you didn’t want to dwell on the past.

“Nothing,” you said, finally. “Just… thanks.”

“For what?”

“For this,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “For making me laugh.”

Fred grinned, and for the first time in months, you felt like maybe—just maybe—everything would be okay.

[silentanomaly]

Long post.

Today is a good day, and I want to take a moment to express appreciation on here. I don't often talk about more positive things when I do type out posts.

First off, I received The Amulet of Kings. I donned it. It did not fall off. This is an incredible feeling. Mighty big thanks to my bestie, @buttchugger. Happy early birthday to me! I feel very special! I could rant and rave about what this means to me. But, I type a lot as is, when I do.

Second, I got my wheels realigned, and that was far less expensive than I anticipated. I owe my mother dearly. I will always owe her regardless of her assistance with the car. I cannot afford much of late, and I am working on correcting that. It was nice visiting her today while the car was in the shop. She gave me food to bring home. I love my mom!

Third, my homeboy (friend from kindergarten/roommate) shared the news that he has quit smoking tobacco and casual drinking. Only smoking weed now. He also shared that a former friend of mine has quit drinking as well as smoking anything. I was shocked. No more tobacco smoke in the house dirtying everything outside my room, going through the vents, and no more alcoholic empties!!! This will not only be good for him, but, a massive relief on me and my efforts to keep things clean and organized. I hope the consumption of less toxic substances helps him to clear his head and gain better perspectives. Says that he and my former friend are both already feeling a wee bit better. So, good for the both of them, and even those around them!

Fourth, a friend of mine told me I look like Legolas (not from seeing this picture though). I love that. I absolutely aspire to be like an elf, and I relate to sentiments often held by them - more peaceful ones, like in Tolkien's literature. I'm going to hold on to that compliment and remember it fondly. I forget if I ever expressed that to her, my fondness of elves or Tolkien's literature and the LOTR movie trilogy. If I did, I'm glad she remembered and knew just what to say - of which I don't anticipate from people ever (that kind of compliment, that is, people have known what to say to me in the past, credit is due). I would tag her. But, I'm unsure if she is comfortable with that. I refrain, respectfully.

I love today. I'm glad I was awake for all of this. Sidenote: have been consistently working towards bettering my mental health and establishing a better financial situation in the meantime while I make steps towards getting back to work. I really hope I find a means of employment based around horticulture/agriculture, or just generally working with plants. Could be gardening. Could be at a plant nursery. I don't know. I need that though. I've always been one for wanting to grow alongside others who matter to me, and this whole time plants have meant a great deal to me and I've not been helping them grow as much as I'd like to. I am very hopeful for golden opportunities to do so some day! The more I can contribute to the growth of nature, the more I can counter the pollution from the nearby chemical plants and just in general. That has always been my goal when it comes to pursuing a career. I don't want my work to be just for money. I have to do something that benefits the world, even if it is small.

Maybe I'll plant a garden in the front yard this year, if my homeboy doesn't mind. Something I can do in the meantime while I heal. I will take advice from anyone who feels compelled in leaving some for me, in regards to gardening. I know not to plant lilies because I want my garden to be safe for cats. I must have border plants...ferns...and a smattering of colourful flowers. That is the current vague vision. May post updates on that, if I ever get around to it. I have something to look forward to this Spring!

[nordicwallartcanvas]

How to Spice Up Your Living Room Wall Decor: Tips and Ideas

Transform your living room walls from bland to beautiful with these creative decorating ideas. Learn how Looking to give your living room a stylish update? Check out our expert tips and creative ideas for transforming your walls into a stunning focal point. From choosing the right color palette to creating a gallery wall and using statement pieces, we've got you covered. Whether you're a minimalist or maximalist, our guide will help you elevate your living room wall decor with ease.

Here’s the deal. Choosing art for your home doesn’t always come naturally. For some, it may even be the most challenging part of tying a room together. And while questions like how do I choose the right size or the right colors to fit my space? and how do I pair different pieces of art together? are common, they can also feel overwhelming if you don’t know where to begin.

Whether you feel stuck trying to decide what kind of art will look good in your space, or you already know what you like and simply need to find the right one, we’re here to help guide you toward identifying pieces that fit your style and your space.

We've found that embracing this simple statement can help set the tone for making your wall art selection:

ART IS AN OPPORTUNITY FOR SELF-EXPRESSION

Consider viewing your walls as a blank canvas. As an opportunity to showcase your personality in a fun way—through color, subject, and composition. Because it’s often what we choose to hang on our walls that makes a space feel uniquely our own.

Black Love Kiss Canvas Painting Abstract Print Poster Pictures Home Bedroom Living Room Decoration Wall Art

That’s the beautiful thing about art—it’s a reflection of how personal and individual telling the story of your home is. It exists to remind us where we’ve been, what we love, and it reflects the beauty we are drawn to.

With that in mind, it’s important to understand that choosing art is more of an intuitive process than you might think, and no one is better equipped to tell your story than you. But, from a practical point of view, there are a few steps you can follow to help guide your purchase, and make it a worthwhile investment.

BANMU Canvas Painting Wall Art Picture City Night Art Print on Canvas Posters Wall Art Painting Home Decor Landcape Art Print

CONSIDER YOUR AVAILABLE WALL SPACE

The first step to choosing a piece of wall art is determining what kind of real estate you have. If you want to get the sizing just right, now is the time to grab the tape measure.

If you have a larger wall to fill or are wanting one statement piece to anchor your space, look for large-scale art. These pieces have the potential to make a really big impact on a space!

Whether you have a large or small wall to fill and are hoping to bring several pieces of art into the space, consider a gallery wall. A good starting point here is to pair complementary styles and colors together. Assessing what’s currently in your space—style, color, and pattern themes—can also help you decide what makes sense on your gallery wall.

If you’re looking to add a little visual interest in a cozier space or something simple to finish out a corner or nook, opt for smaller frames.

CONSIDER YOUR EXISTING DECOR

Before purchasing new wall art for a specific space, take stock of what decor and furniture you already have in there. For a mostly neutral room, rich or colorful art could be great to infuse. Or, if you already have plenty of color, texture, and pattern, look for simpler, more subdued art pieces.

PAIR COMPLEMENTARY STYLES + COLORS TOGETHER

Our wall art is categorized by style to help you identify pieces that you're naturally drawn to. Go bold and mix styles or stick to the genre that feels right to you. To make it even simpler, consider art that’s sold as a pair.

There isn’t a set formula for grouping art together, so enjoy the process of trying something new in your space!

This robust collection is filled with pieces for any space and any style. We hope you’ll find something here that you love, and that adds a renewed sense of joy and meaning to your home.

[david-gonzo]

Tons a great new music this year, with last year's personal hip hop revival continuing strong. While I found several new metal bands (pretty much all death metal) this year, none were strong enough to crack my top ten.

Black Thought + Danger Mouse – Cheat Codes

After over 15 years “in the making,” Danger Mouse and Black Thought’s joint album came out this year and to my ears lives up to the hype.  Sounding like a lost time capsule from the past, thanks in large part to DM’s fuzzy soul beats, gives the whole affair a timeless classic sound.  Black Thought’s voice carries intelligent authority weaving lyrical webs that prove once again that he is one of the GOATs.  And to top it all off a killer DOOM verse from beyond the grave on Belize (calling back the great goofy Adultswim sponsored Mouse and the Mask Danger Mouse/DOOM collab with a Black Thought feature…full circle). 

Bjork – Fossora

This is the Bjorkest Bjork has ever Bjorked.  To me it feels like this album, more so than any other one, is built using all the tools learned from her endless experimentations over the last 30 years.  She described this as a dancing alone in your room type of album, which is very true…though I’ve danced all around my house to it.  The breadth of instrumentation and seamless blending styles on this album is truly stunning: strings, woodwinds, brass, choirs, and electronica.  She used all her tools available to make her most immersive album yet.  With it being her “mushroom” album, it does feel grounded, but in an alien way.  Like we are shrunk down to near microscopic sizes, experiencing the world as worms or single cellular creatures…reacting to the natural symphonies of the wind, and the dirt and the bugs.  Fossora is about the connection of all things on a molecular level, and while to me it feels like a cumulative achievement, I know that to Bjork it’s just another album on her journey, just as important as each one before and each one after.  I love Bjork.

Zola Jesus - Arkhon

I feel such a connection with this album, perhaps because I got to see parts of her process during the pandemic as we got Patreon updates.  Musically its such a leap in so many ways, production being one of the big things.  The sound is big and mixed to perfection and having turned her tracks over to a session drummer and bassist to evolve, these songs became big pop art tracks.  Could prove to be a major step in her evolution as she’s typically been a self-produced artist in the past, and has probably grown all she can within that limitation for the time being.  And yet the highlight is the simply beautiful acoustic piano and voice track, Desire.  A milestone of an album for an artist still evolving and finding herself 10+ years into her career.

Boris – W

This year Boris celebrated their 30th anniversary as a band by releasing 3 phenomenal albums, each within three of their main stylistic areas: heavy rock, drone metal and experimental ambientish psychedelic freakout.  W, serves in part as somehow cleaning up the loose threads from last year’s thrash punk masterpiece NO (NO + W=NOW, get it?), but also stands on its own as a psychedelic vibe.  Floating on waves of feedback, tentacles of terror grasp from the darkness but fade to smoke upon hearing a siren’s song across the ocean din.  A few tracks of dirge doom accentuate the journey towards the end, but overall, it’s a pleasant place to sink into…a sensory deprivation chamber in audio form.  

Venom Prison – Erebus

Venom Prison already have a history of taking giant evolutionary steps with each album and Erebus is no exception with this being the first solid step toward crossover potential.  The riffs are still progressively putrid, and the punishing primal screams of Larissa Stupar still gut wrenching, conveying intelligent expressions of anger at various forms of toxic male behaviors/drawing parallels with Greek mythology.  On Pain of Oizys, Larissa shows off her clean goth rock vocals with the trip hop style of the track still ending up a great introduction to the band with the powerful stadium death metal ending.  The production choices were brilliant, crystal-clear drums and leads, the crunch always solid…just perfect modern production for technical death metal, with colorful flashes of ambient tones lending to ominous transitions throughout.  Another chapter in what seems certain to be a legendary career.

Action Bronson – Cocodrillo Turbo

I’ve been a casual fan of Action for a while, but mostly for his cooking and “Watching Ancient Alien” shows, up until a few years ago when I really gave his music a chance and became a fan.  On Crocodilo, his charisma is on full display, which combined with a ridiculous sense of style, peppering his clever wordplay with absurd morsels of teenage humor makes for a nonstop laugh fest.  But the secret weapon is the psychedelic journey through the wilderness that is the beats.  The whole thing is only 30 minutes long, but it’s lean with no filler.  Every sound and nonsensical skit serves to keep you moving on the roller coaster ride.  This album just gets me hype and laughing at the same time.  Start a party off with this to set the tone for the evening.  Turbo.  Turbo.

Willi Carlisle – Peculiar, Missouri

Finding Willi is all thanks to KJHK, where I think I’d heard Vanlife a few times before I finally paid attention and immediately checked out his latest album.  This is Great Plains folk music, with dashes of country in the proper proportions.  He’s a helluva songwriter able to cover all kinds of topics with a down home genius philosophy.  Great road album for sure, with lots of great story songs to make you think.

Zeal & Ardor – Zeal & Ardor

Z&A are a meme band that turned out to be good, mostly in the beginning on the strength of founder Manuel Gagneux’s musical talents.  Now on their third album Manuel is able to fully write for himself through the “gimmick” of the band, and the results are vastly elevated as a result.  Sure, there’s plenty of fire and brimstone Satan blues metal pageantry on this self-titled effort, but Zeal & Ardor have become a fully fledged road tested band with some great songs backing them up.  There are some obvious nu metal batches on the bands sleeve, used in the most tasteful head banging ways possible here, giving rounder edges to some of the jagged black metal influences driving the riffage.

Tyler Childers – Can I Take My Hounds to Heaven

I certainly had reservations when I learned that Tyler’s new album would be gospel leaning, but upon hearing it I realized I had heard almost all the songs before during his 2-night live stream from Red Rocks…and they’re all great songs.  Just feel good, down home country church music expertly performed by his top notch band, probably one of the best country bands on stage right now.  They’re tighter than rusty lug nuts, especially the drummer…picture a country Buddy Miles cement mixing the back beat with deft precision.  I will say that I rarely listen to the 2nd big band gospel or 3rd ambient triphop versions of the songs and stick to the Hallelujah versions which seem to be the definitive to my ears.  Can’t wait to see him next summer in St. Louis.  Fuck you Ticketmaster.

Boris – Heavy Rocks 2022

Boris’ 28th studio album, the 3rd one titled Heavy Rocks, and their 2nd album on this year’s list.  Boris’ interpretation of 70s proto-metal, fist pumping anthems with synthesized horn blasts driving the already muscle car riffing tracks, over the edge into turbo overdrive.  Boris are still at the height of their powers and I can’t imagine what they’ll do next. 

Special Mention:

JPEGmafia – Offline (EP)

This EP was really just the original mixes of tracks he couldn’t get on his LP! album last year due to uncleared samples, and got a ton of play from me.  It was yet another reminder not to sleep on artists singles and EP work as I tend to give weighted favor to full length albums.  But it also gives me an excuse to talk about how monumental seeing him this past October was.  He was so into his music, riding his beats and having a good time along with the crowd.  I’ve been a huge fan of him for years but seeing what he does live was enlightening…like unlocking some mod code to his music and ingraining it into my psyche even more.  I could listen to little else after seeing him for a few months and still spin something from him daily.  Peggy’s music is the closest thing to capturing what the inside of my brain sounds like, while being able to soothe out panic attacks and stress like a magic antidote.  You think you know me, indeed.

Honorable mentions:

Kendrick Lamar – Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers

Khruanggbin – Ali

Death’s Dynamic Shroud – Darklife

All Them Witches – Baker’s Dozen

Mike Baggetta/Jim Keltner/Mike Watt – Everywhen We Go

Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio – Cold as Weiss

Universally Estranged - Dimension of Deviant Clusters

Sedimentum – Suppuration Morphogenesiaque

Tombs – Ex Oblivion (EP)

Blood Incantation – Timewave Zero

Freddie Gibbs – Soul Sold Separately

Jon Spencer and the Hitmakers - Spencer Gets Lit

Dead Cross - II

Bill Frisell /w Gregory Tardy/Jonathan Blake/Gerald Clayton – Four

Plaid – Feorm Falorx

Casket Grinder – Sepulchral Trip

[beomiracles]

「 MELANCHOLIA, THE FAIRYTALE 」

DREAM RECALL fairytales were real. even the most sinful and sinister ones — perhaps that was how your night with the young prince could be best described; as erotic melancholia.

.ᐟ please please please read this thought beforehand, it amplifies the plot 10x more .ᐟ

wc -> 10k (promise it sounds longer than it is!!)

pairings — cursed prince!soobin x afab!reader warnings — heavy themes of dubious consent, manipulator/gaslighter soobin, reader is naive & believes in fairytales, soft dom!soobin, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, handjob, oral (f&m, rec), cum eating if you squint?, sensory deprivation in the form of blindfolding, darcyphilia, breast/nipple play, size and strength kink, big dick soobin, unprotected sex + creampie, he's got a breeding kink, power play, soobin roleplays a little..? ⸝⸝ I've gone through this throughouly (maybe) but still lmk if I missed any ! ⸝⸝

#serene adds ✎... hi. so basically. there IS plot. believe it or not. anyway I have proofread it (I know it doesn't show), please consider reblogging/commenting with feedback I would so so love you if you did ૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა

*nervously presses post button*

The air was cold; harsh winds whipped your face menacingly as you struggled to move forward against their great force. Rainfall starts battering against you, drenching your thin coat as the fabric clung to your shivering body. You grit your teeth — hugging your arms closer to your chest; determined not to succumb to the forest’s vile conditions. 

Mud sticks to your boots, making your step heavy and mushy as you stagger on. Squinting, your gaze remains downcast in order to shield yourself from the sharp and wet hurls of air — you focus on the placement of your feet, making sure to not get caught on the multiple snares that are raised from the ground, ready to entrap your ankles. 

You had been walking for what felt like an eternity, grunting as you pull the map from your drenched coat, thinking that maybe you had taken a wrong turn a while back. The thin paper quickly turns soggy in your trembling grasp and the small light provided by your flashlight does little to ease the hopeless situation. Shoving the flashlight between your teeth, you twist and turn the map in your hands, brows drawing together in a confused frown. You had no clue of your whereabouts – and as you recall your very much dead phone battery; you slowly realize that no one else did either. 

A slight panic settles in your chest as you crumple the already dissolving paper in your hands. In your cold and exhausted state you manage to settle on two definite alternatives; either you turn back, in the hopes of being able to retrace your step; though the thought seems futile as the rain most likely would have washed out anything crossing its path. That leaves your second option; to continue, to cling onto the faint hope that you might find what you had come here for. 

You crane your neck, throwing a glance over your shoulder, the dark forest looks just as ominous as it did in every other direction. Tall and dark trees surrounded you, looming over you threateningly; as if ready to pounce. You did not dare wonder what might lurk between the branches — and thus without giving the matter further thought, you continue forward. 

Looking back, it might have been a foolish decision; but as the large building slowly seeps into view, you could not fathom any other feeling besides relief. It was grand, much grander than the stories made it out to be. Large towers rose high above the mean pines — their roof’s sharp as daggers as they pointed toward the hurling sky. And as lightning hit, the castle was illuminated; showing the old cobbled stone on which nature had played its part as vines climbed the old walls. 

Statues guarded either side of the large oak doors, their expressions stern and slightly uncanny. And whilst they remained motionless; their beings made out of nothing more but mere stone, you still found yourself avoiding to gaze upon them, feeling rather creeped out by their mere presence. In your sheer desperation for shelter, warmth, and comfort — you claw at the handles of the entrance, pulling with all your might. Your already exhausted limbs burn and ache, your legs threatening to give in at any moment. A frustrated groan passes your lips as you slam your forearms against the weathered oak. But there’s nothing but silence to follow. 

Just as you were about to accept defeat, the large doors creaked open; the castle inviting you in. You stumble backward in surprise, eyes widening as they peer into the darkness past the entrance, there was no one there. With a small shake of your head, you step inside, relieved to finally be sheltered from the cold winds and harsh rainfall; though the fortress was far from warm — and you suddenly became aware of just how damp your clothes had gotten as the garments pressed against your skin in such a plaguing way. 

Behind you, the wooden entrance is slammed shut with such force that you could feel the air being whipped in your direction. The sound startles you, causing you to twist around on the spot as your gaze darts across the dark hallways. — “Jesus christ”, you mumble as you let your heavy bag fall to the floor, the thud echoes through the empty halls. 

You swallow as you turn to look around, it was truly magnificent. The ceilings were raised high and the walls were covered head to toe in large oil paintings. Your cold fingers trail along the fine detailed frames, gathering the dust that had been collecting atop the old works, revealing the shimmery gold engravings beneath. You had never been one for art, but the immense details poured into each brush stroke against the old canvases made it hard to look away. It all looked to belong in a museum. 

Finally you pull your lingering gaze from the crowded walls as you peer down the seemingly endless hallway, a fine mauve carpet creating a path for you to follow. — Just how long had this place been left untouched? Your gaze flickers to your discarded bag and you hurry to pick the drenched thing up as you pull it toward your chest. With your flashlight held high, you venture deeper inside the menacing fortress in the hopes of finding a place to rest for the night. 

As you wander through the large halls, you can’t help but feel astonished at the fact that it was real. It was actually a real castle. — Growing up you had always been fascinated with tales of mythical places and beings. Your parents and close relatives often called you superstitious, you never cared much for their short sighted views of the world you live in; far too busy with learning to recite the latest fantasy book you had gotten your hands on. Whether it be folklore traveling generations back or myths caused by a single rumor, you always found yourself wanting to know more, you wanted answers. 

Not once had you doubted the existence of creatures such as vampires, elves or even fairies; for without them, your world would be awfully dull. But as you got older, you quickly understood that not many people shared your beliefs and you had a hard time making friends. ‘Crazy girl.’ They called you as they mocked you for believing in such nonsense. ‘Do you believe in Santa too? Or perhaps the tooth fairy?’ You frown as you recall the many times people had been cruel to you. You couldn’t understand what you had done to warrant their hatred, other than indulging in what made you happy. 

Two weeks ago, a slightly drunken conversation with your friends had easily led you on to the topic of the lonely castle buried deep within the forest a couple hours from town. — A grand castle, as big as thirty apartment complexes all together; a castle in which a young prince lived, cursed with eternal life as he wandered its empty hallways. 

Your friends had scoffed when you told them the story of his blinding beauty. ‘Aren’t you a little too old to be believing that crap?’ One of them had laughed and you had shook your head, arguing that it was indeed true and that there was for certain a castle and a prince. The next morning your friends had passed the whole thing off as a drunk joke and things returned to normal. But you couldn’t let it go so easily, your mind kept returning to the tales of the beautiful prince residing in his empty castle. The only way you would ever be able to satiate your curiosity was to find it for yourself, and you had. 

Your footsteps echo off the stone walls and you carefully make your way past the uncanny portraits adorning the walls. You could’ve sworn that you felt their painted eyes following your every step. Soon the hallway opens up into a large room, the ceiling here was at least double the height of the previous long corridors you had wandered and balconies crowded the skyhigh walls. Large windows followed the sides of the space, the sound of rain pattering against the thin painted glass filling your ears. — But what really caught your eye was the beautiful chair on the other end of the grand room. This had to be the throne hall. 

Before you can make a move toward the enticing chair, a small noise somewhere above you quickly garners your attention as you spin around. You squint up at the many balconies, but they were enveloped in darkness, you couldn’t see anything. With a small frown you turn back toward the large throne as you begin walking down the aisle of windows. Odd, you thought; but perhaps it had merely been a mouse of some sort. Who knows what kind of animals the large fortress hosted a home for.  

The throne was placed on a small platform and you almost missed the three steps leading up to it, sending you stumbling forward with a startled yelp. In an attempt to catch yourself, you grabbed onto one of the armrests, the heavy metal of it felt cool against your skin and you pointed your flashlight in the direction of the chair. Your gaze trailed along the red velvet cushion, small diamond like shapes embroidered into the backrest of it. Much like the frames of the paintings, the armrests were engraved in gold, shimmering under the glow of your flashlight. 

A quiet, “woah”, leaves your lips as you trail the tips of your fingers along the fine details of its crest rail. It felt rich and exquisite, perhaps even a little vintage, it looked to be out of a movie or… a fairytale. You wondered what it would have been like when this place was still bustling with life. You envisioned grand balls held in this very room, people swaying across the marbled floor, dresses swirling in an ocean of color as the light tunes of a piano sang out against the walls. — The King himself, perched up on this very throne as he gazed out over his kingdom. The scene before you felt almost melancholic, and in the darkness of the night, the room felt bleak and drained of life. 

Still, you sought to capture the moment in any way you could. Surely your friends would believe you once you brought them materialized proof? — No more of the bullying, no more of being called childish or even crazy. You would show them that your fairytale had been very much real. You glance around the area, seeking anything light enough for you to perhaps bring along, but it seems futile. Apart from the throne before you, the room remained vacant, save for the curtains adorning the large windows.  

Suddenly, as a flash of lightning strikes outside, you remember the small digital camera you had brought. You could only hope that the rain hadn’t reached its secure spot inside your already drenched bag. — You set the backpack down on the throne, and as you begin rummaging through it another noise draws your attention. Your head jerks over your shoulder as you peer out into the darkness, nothing. Once was a happenstance, twice was merely a coincidence. That’s right, there was nothing to worry about, so you told yourself before turning to whisk up the old camera. 

You twist it around in your hands as you try and assess the damage. Luckily, it seemed to be completely dry and in good shape; you let out a small sigh of relief. Removing your bag from the cushion of the throne, you take a small step back as you bring the device to your eyes and snap a photo. The flash of the camera illuminates the room just like the strikes of lightning had, and you squint as you gaze down at the picture developing on the small screen. It did of course little to compensate for the grand throne in real life but it was better than nothing. With newfound hope, you continue to document your surroundings. 

Carefully you maneuver around the throne as you continue to snap various photos, experimenting with different angles as you go; already imagining the stunned faces of your friends as you show them the evidence of your findings. — Then, in between the snap of another shot, you hear it. The small squeak of something heavy against the marbled floor, a shift in the air, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand. Something or someone was behind you. Once was a happenstance, twice was a coincidence, but three times… Three times is enemy action. 

You can feel yourself break out into a cold sweat and you swallow a gulp. Cautiously you turn around as you grip the flashlight tightly in one hand, aiming it like a weapon against whatever you might find lurking behind your back. Though the small light immediately slips from your grasp as you let out a small shriek. — What you had thought to be a mouse, possibly something larger like a beaver, turned out to be a human. And not just any human, a gorgeous man. — He was so very gorgeous.  

And though you should probably be scared, terrified even, of the strange man lurking on you, you can’t help but gawk at him. Finding yourself in awe — your gaze travels across his tall and lean frame. His skin was pale, sickly so, yet in the light casted by your discarded flashlight, it looked to be glowing. His face was sharp yet soft and inviting at the same time. Lips curved into an almost heart like shape, pink and plump as they formed into a small pout. His brows furrowed together in a slight frown as his dark and curious eyes studied your stunned expression. The dark hair atop his head fell nicely along the sides of his face, accentuating his already prominent features. He was so beautiful that he looked almost inhumane, uncanny even.

Seemingly fascinated with what he saw, the man took a step forward and you immediately shield yourself with your free hand as you tumble backward, colliding with the throne behind you. “Who are you!” You yell as you squint toward the man between your outstretched fingers. His frown deepens; almost as if he was unable to comprehend the words leaving your lips. — “Who am I?” He repeats, and oh if you thought he was gorgeous to gaze upon, his voice certainly didn’t let him down either. 

The man glances down to the flashlight you had dropped when startled by his sudden appearance. Leaning down, he grasps the cylinder between his slender fingers as he carefully picks it up, making sure to keep the light itself as far away from him as possible, seemingly wary of it. “You dare come into my home”, he begins, his voice suddenly turning grim as his gaze trails along the engravings on the flashlight in his hand, “and you dare come armed.” His once inquisitive gaze is now cold as his eyes snap back to your slightly terrified ones. 

Your mouth falls open as you try to make sense of his words. “W-what, no!” You frown as your eyes flit between the bright light and the man before you. “That is not what…I mean no harm!” You assured him as you watched his guarded expression. — “It’s just…the storm outside, it was cold and I…I didn’t think anyone would mind I..” you swallow a gulp as you bite your tongue to prevent yourself from saying something you might come to later regret. 

In the midst of your ramble the remaining pieces of the puzzle you had been trying to solve falls upon you like a ton of bricks. His home; that’s what he had said. But if this fortress was his home then he had to be… “The prince.” — The statement falls from your lips without warning and you clasp a hand over your mouth to hinder further damage to your already fragile situation. The man’s gaze hardens as he studies you, letting the light emitted from the flashlight in his hand glide along your frame slowly. 

“How do you know of me?” He queries as he grips the light tighter. You bite the inside of your cheek, hesitating as you sought for a way to go about the subject. The man grows impatient and he raises his voice once more, “answer me when I speak.” — “How do you know of me? No one knows of me.” He states through gritted teeth. Shaking your head, your gaze drops to your muddy boots as you meekly clear the lump forming in your throat. “I have…heard of you..” You merely whisper without looking at him. 

He huffs out a short breath of air before speaking again. “You dare come here, fully conscious, despite knowing what lingers between these castle walls?” Though he tries to appear intimidating, his tall frame easily towering over you even from such a distance; you know that there is more to his intentions than merely trying to scare you off. — It is why he had watched you for so long before approaching, not out of fear, for he did not seem to fear anything, but out of curiosity. His interest seemingly piqued by the unfamiliar presence of another human being. You did not know if you should feel terrified or flattered at his shown interest; but judging by his wary demeanor, you would guess the former. 

You draw in a small breath before nodding. “I have um…heard tales…of a beautiful prince cursed to eternal life.” Biting your lip, your gaze hesitantly lifts from the floor beneath you as you try your shot at a glance of him. The man watches you with a slight frown, his expression remains stern and otherwise unreadable. — Oh but he was so beautiful. Once your gaze fell on him it was hard to look away. Your eyes felt heavy as they drank in all of him, savoring his image to remain engraved in your mind a lifetime.  

His jaw clenches as his brows draw in closer. “Then you must know of the inevitable fate those around me suffer?” Immediately you know what he’s referring to and you swallow a small gulp as you nod. “I do”, you whisper. Eyes widening as they watch the way he lowers your flashlight before letting it fall to the ground as he takes a step forward. He stops before the small steps leading up to the throne pedestal, becoming eye level with you. “Do you wish for the same fate to be cast upon yourself?” He wonders as he tilts his head to the side, his gaze swirling with curiosity. 

Slowly, you shake your head as you grip the digital camera tightly in your hands. “I do not…” — The man draws in a sigh as his eyes peer into your own, causing an almost burning sensation to flare up within you, making your eyes water. It hurt to look at him. Yet you couldn’t pull your gaze from his, no matter how hard you tried. 

“Close your eyes.” 

The command sent a shiver down your spine, and not from the way your damp clothes clung to you. His words managed to break the trance your body had fallen under and you screwed your eyes shut, left in complete darkness as you were forced to listen to the way your heart practically beat out of your chest. He lets out the breath he had been holding in, the air felt warm against your cold skin and your eyelids fluttered at the action. 

“What are your intentions here?” He wonders, his voice is a low hum that vibrates through the large room. Your eyes move rapidly beneath the thin skin of your lids as you bite your lip. “I needed to know if…” you hesitantly begin though quickly trailing off as you draw in a ragged breath when you hear the man take a step forward, climbing the first of three steps up the pedestal. “Needed to know what?” He inquired, his voice was closer now. “I needed to know if it was real…the castle, you.”

You hold your breath as you await his answer, lightly swaying back and forth as you struggle to keep your balance without the help of your sight. He takes another step forward, “and is it?” His question holds an amused edge and if you could guess, you would say that he was smirking. “Yes?” you frown, unsure of if he was being genuine or not. The man chuckles as he takes a final step in your direction, climbing the last staircase as his feet plant right in front of your own. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, warming up your shivering body, to lean in further was a tempting thought indeed. 

“What will you do, now that you have uncovered my existence?” He drawls, seemingly curious of your answer. Your lips part but no words come out. What would you do? You hadn’t exactly given it much thought, you knew that you wanted to prove things to your friends — but what else? Would they even believe you, the thought was highly unlikely. The pictures your camera held could easily be fabricated…unless…unless you got a photo of the very being wandering these halls. If you got a photo of him. 

You jump as his fingers grace your own alongside the small camera. “I saw you using this”, he murmurs and you let him take the small object from your hands. — “Will you use it to prove my existence?” He asks, a sharp edge to his voice. Immediately, you shake your head, “no.” The man lets out a short laugh and before you know it his face is inches from yours; though you can’t see it, you can feel his breath mixing with your own as he speaks. — “Liar”, he snarls and you flinch as the sound of something crashing against the stone floor fills the room, the deafening noise echoing off the walls. You knew then that he had broken your camera, your only source of proof diminishing into nothing. 

Though you’re spared little time to grieve it as the rhythmic sound of your heart thumping against your ribcage overtakes every and all of your senses. For the first time since entering this castle you felt truly afraid; afraid that you might die, succumbing to the very thing that had brought you here in the first place, the thing you had cherished throughout your life. 

Tears roll down your rosy cheeks as you inhale sharply. “I wasn’t going to, I swear!” — You begin pleading for your life, saying anything that comes to mind, anything that would save you. “No one believes me, they never have and they never will!” You let out a shaky breath, not giving the man a chance to reply as you continue to desperately advocate for your life. “T-they all think it’s just a fairytale, I wouldn’t even dare tell anyone I promise, I promise!” Your ramble comes to an abrupt end as the first sob rips from your throat. Your hand covers your trembling lips as you try and suppress any sounds from escaping, quietly sniffling into your palm. 

The man doesn’t say anything, but you can still feel his warm breath on your face. — “A fairytale?” He muses and you meekly nod as you hiccup. You flinch when his large fingers easily wrap around your delicate wrist, pulling your hand from your mouth carefully. “If this was a fairytale, that would mean that the events taking place here are in fact not real, no?” He mumbles as his thumb traces your open palm lightly. Your sobs have simmered down into small sniffled hiccups and you frown, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. 

Not knowing which approach to take, you settle for one that you hoped would please him. “I…I suppose so.” You whisper as you try your best not to peek at his expression through your closed eyes. When his grip on your wrist tightens you immediately wince. “But is it not a fairytale?” He presses as his voice grows stern. Frantically you nod, “o-of course!” — “So it is not real?” He asks, as if giving you the opportunity to better your answer. “N-no it’s not real, not at all..” 

The grip on your wrist eases and he seems pleased with your reply. You can hear him draw in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before slowly exhaling. He brings your hand to his mouth and you shiver as you feel his warm lips press against the back of your knuckles. “In fairytales..” he begins as he trails kisses along the base of your fingers, “..there are no rules.” His lips move to the back of your hand as he whispers against your skin, “fairytales have no need for rules…” — Confused by his metaphors, you remain silent as you let him trail his hot mouth down your wrist. 

Suddenly, he lets go of you as he lets your hand drop to your side once more. “Tell me…” he leans closer, his breath fanning your ear as he inhales the scent of your hair. “How does my fairytale go?” — You frown, had you heard him right? Had he really just asked you to tell him the misery of his human life abbreviated into a children's tale? It wasn't like you didn’t know the story, no you knew it well, so well that even now, as your legs threatened to give out and your heart pounded in your chest, you were still able to recite it, perfectly. Softly exhaling; you nod as you begin telling the story, the way you had told it to your friends on that drunken evening two weeks ago. 

“Well, there was once a young prince living in this castle…” You swallow a gulp as the man’s soft fingers trace along your collarbone. “Does the young prince have a name?” He wonders, his voice is now a low murmur, dangerously close to your face. Slowly you shake your head and the movement on your skin stills, “no?” He seems surprised, at least you thought so. — “The tale does not mention his name”, you whisper and the man remains quiet for a moment before he hums. “I see. Continue.” 

The touch along your collarbone returns before it creeps down the sides of your arms; his thumb pressing into the wet fabric of your jacket. “W-well he lives with his older brothers, the King and the Queen and…” You bite your tongue, the next part of the story making you hesitate. His grip on your upper arm intensifies, “do not leave out details”, he grunts and you gingerly nod, whispering out a quiet I won’t before continuing. 

“The young prince was in comparison to his brothers…very ordinary.” You swallow, half expecting him to grow mad but his touch moving down your forearms remained gentle. “He was cast aside by his parents, and as time went on the young prince grew very lonely.” — Your breath hitches as his hands find your waist, long fingers moving to pull at your damp coat. In turn, your speech becomes jagged. “O-one day, an old woman c-came to knock at his door. She had heard of the young prince’s misery and offered him a deal.” 

“A deal? My how intriguing”, he murmurs as his hands push your jacket off your shoulders, letting the garment fall to the ground with a thud. If you had been shivering before, it was nothing compared to the literal fire currently soaring through your body, fueled by his every touch to your skin. With a trembling voice, you continue. “The old lady promised the young prince beauty, in turn he…he gave up his mortal life.” — “When he returned, he was the most beautiful man in the world, h-he…he was so beautiful that word of his beauty spread across all kingdoms.” You draw in a short breath as his hands grace your cheeks, setting your skin ablaze before his fingers entangle themselves in your disheveled hair. 

He didn’t say anything, letting his lingering touches be the only reminder that he was in fact listening to every single word leaving your lips. The faster you got the story over with the better you thought, and so you exhaled as you regained focus. “But his beauty came with a price, a price so great that the beauty itself lost all its worth…” — “Everyone who dared lay their gaze upon the beautiful young prince were all bound to endure the same fate, the fate of the blind.” The fingers in your hair stilled and you paused, worried that you might have said something wrong; but this was how the story went…wasn’t it? 

Hesitantly, you clear your throat, “his beauty made the young prince even lonelier than he had been all those years before, a-and now he is cursed to live a beautiful but solitude and eternal life..” — Upon finishing you press your lips into a thin line as you await his response, without the ability to read his expression it was hard to tell whether or not he was upset with you. Slowly, he withdraws his hands from your hair and you hear him take a step back; the warmth of his body suddenly no longer present against your own. 

“Soobin.” 

It is all he says and your brows furrow in confusion. “The young prince’s name is Soobin”, he drawls and your lips part as you connect the dots. What a beautiful name, it suited him well, you thought. It made you wonder why the stories always left it out.  — “Don’t you think”, he starts, his voice suddenly seeming far away, “that such a lonely being deserves the luxurious company of another human being, even if just for one night?” The previous frown on your face returns, unable to comprehend his words. Just as you’re about to ask him what he had meant; he surges forward as a pair of large hands grip onto your waist. 

Your eyes snap open and you shriek as your feet lift off the ground. — Not until your back hits the soft cushion of the throne do you realize what’s happening as Soobin looms over you, his hands placed on the armrests either side of you. His unwavering gaze meets yours and the burning sensation returns as your eyes begin to water once more. With a quiet hum, he reaches a hand into his pocket as he brings forward a small piece of silk. You follow his movements, shrinking back against the throne as he guides the fabric against your eyes. “Do not fret”, he murmurs as he ties the flimsy material behind your head, restraining your vision once more. “I am doing this out of goodwill”, he reassures you as he secures the makeshift blindfold over your eyes. 

Your bottom lip quivers when you feel his hands brush along your thighs as he slides himself down between your knees, easily parting them to accommodate for his large frame. “You have been blessed to see me, to gaze upon my eternal beauty..” he mumbles and your breath hitches as his fingers come up to play with the button of your jeans. “Don’t you think it’s fair that I get to see you too?” He queries and you can feel his eyes on you as you squirm away from his invasive touch. “I think it is.” He finally states as he pops the button open — sighing at your meek protests as he slides the damp material of your jeans along your thighs, pulling your dirty boots off in the process.. 

“Such pretty legs you have.” His fingers trail across your cold skin, easily warming it up under his touch. Your jeans are quickly discarded and your cheeks burn over how exposed you felt. You jump in your seat as Soobin presses his open palm against your stomach just above the hem of your panties, gathering the fabric of your shirt between his fingers as he slowly pushes it up your chest. Almost instantly you shy away from his touch as your hands reach out to fumble against him. The movement on your chest seizes as he lets out a frustrated sigh. “Do not have me tie you to this throne”, he warns and your guarding hands immediately drop to your sides as you shake your head frantically. It was already terrifying enough that you were unable to see anything, let alone have your mobility restricted.

Your shirt is pushed up over your chest when he suddenly stops; his large hand moving to cup one of your breasts through the material of your bra, causing you to yelp as you flinch against his hand. Fingers trailing its lace outline slowly, Soobin follows the curve of your soft chest with a content hum. — You let him pull your wet shirt over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear as you gingerly try to conceal yourself with your arms. A large hand easily gathers both of your wrists in his firm hold as he pulls them above your head. “Why do you hide from me?” He murmurs, his hot breath puffing against your neck. 

“Please…” you whisper, lightly shaking your head as tears well in your already glossy eyes. His free hand cups your chin gently as Soobin trails his thumb along your trembling bottom lip. “Please what?” He pulls your face forward, your nose grazing his own and you inhale sharply. “Don’t tell me…” he mutters, his words close enough for you to almost taste, “don’t tell me you do not take pity on the young prince.” — “That you do not feel a single droplet of sympathy for someone bearing such a great curse.” 

Your lips part but no words come out. Your throat feels dry and thick, you swallow in an attempt to gather yourself once more; desperate to regain some sort of dignity as you sit almost bare in front of him, limbs trembling in fear. “I do…of course I do..” you croak out, feeling the way his thumb pressed into your lip with each shallow breath you took. Somewhere in front of you, you can hear him inhale before slowly exhaling, drinking in the state of you, disheveled and completely at his mercy. Even when perched on top of the reigning throne — you remained helpless. 

“Then you must be eager to do everything in your might to please the young prince, no?” He wonders as his hand glides along your neck, down your collarbone, between the valley of your breasts — smothering the skin with the palm of his hand, eagerly groping at your chest as he relishes in the way you gasp above him. Shyly, you nod, your teeth latching on to your bottom lip as you try and suppress the sounds threatening to escape as his hand dips inside the fabric of your bra, twisting and pinching your nipple. “Say it”, he snaps, the grip on your wrists growing harsher and your arms ache from being pinned above your head for so long. 

“I…I am eager to please you.” It takes a lot of effort to get it out, your lips moving involuntarily as the words slip off your tongue. Soobin lets out a short breath, the warm air hitting your face as he slowly lets go of your wrists, placing them on either armrest beside you. — “Good”, he retracts his hand from your bra before dipping two fingers between the strap holding the cups together, yanking it off with one harsh tug making you yelp in surprise as the cold air hits your chest. “What a bothersome piece of garment”, he comments and you can make out a thud in the distance as he throws it over his shoulder. 

His hands quickly return to shamelessly grope at your now exposed breasts, twirling your hardening nipples between his fingers as he groans in satisfaction. “Such a pliant and pretty girl.” — You whimper as his thumb presses against the buds of your already sensitive nipples, your breasts fitting perfectly in his large palms; he squeezes and pushes them together as he tries fitting them both in one hand, gauging your reactions to his every move. 

You flinch when his lips latch around one of them, sucking the soft flesh into his mouth as his tongue presses flat against your nipple, the unfamiliar texture against it makes you squirm as your fingers grip the armrests of the throne tightly. He sighs against your chest, letting saliva pool in his mouth as he sloppily makes out with your tits, coating them in a sheen layer of gloss. — Your mouth hangs open, in pleasure or surprise, you didn’t know. Never in your life had you thought that trying to prove the existence of such a fairytale would get you here; pathetically squeezing your thighs together as you try and ignore the aching sensation between your legs. 

“Do not get ahead of yourself”, he grunts as one of his large hands wedges itself between your legs, easily parting them once more and you wail in protest. “I haven’t even gotten to taste your lips yet.” His mouth lets go of your nipple and before you know it he hovers above your trembling lips. The silk against your eyes is wet as tears trail down beneath it, making your cheeks shine in the dim light; Soobin groans at the sight. — His tongue leisurely dragging across your cheek as he drinks up the salty tears rolling down. The sensation feels wrong and weird, but you do not dare move and so you brace yourself, exhaling a shaky breath as your nails drag across the cool gold of the throne. 

When he first kisses you, you don’t know how to react; your body tenses up and you make a startled noise as his tongue dwells past your lips and deep inside your sobbing mouth. He’s gentle, a lot more than his rough touches had let on to. Slowly you find yourself relaxing against him, his large hands moving down your sides in a soothing caress as he sighs into your mouth. With hesitance you kiss him back, your lips carefully moving against his own. — You think about how lonely it must be to live in such solitude for eternity. How much he probably must have longed to hear the voice of another human being, to touch. You supposed that you did take pity on him, even though it was wrong, this whole situation was so very wrong. 

Lost in thought and in the way your lips molded against his, you fail to notice how his hand moves down your stomach, between your thighs, aiming for your core. With a small cry, you jerk away from him as his thumb presses against your clit. “H-ah, not there..” your voice trembles as you blindly fumble against him. But Soobin remains persistent as his other hand pries your legs apart. “Did you not just say that you were eager to please your prince?” He tuts as two of his fingers dip inside the hem of your panties, tugging at the fabric lightly. “I reckon you did.” — When you meekly whimper against his teasing touch rather than replying he grows restless, withdrawing his hands from your underwear as he lets the material snap back against your skin. 

“Did you not?” He repeats his question, and you swallow as you slowly nod. “I did, I did..” you mumble, biting your quivering bottom lip as you shift against the cushion of the throne. “Very good”, he sighs before yanking your panties off with a harsh tug. You wince at the action, thankful for the blindfold across your eyes because you certainly didn’t feel like facing him in your current state. Soobin leans back on his knees as he admires the perfect view of your pretty cunt, already wet and dripping with arousal from his previous ministrations to your body. 

“Such a pretty little thing you are”, he mumbles as his index and middle finger drag along your folds, gathering the slick that formed there. You bite back a small whine as his burning touch against your sensitive core adds to the blazing fire within your body. — “Do not worry, it is my duty as your prince and ruler to take care of you. I always take care of my people.” He assures as he finds your clit once more, gently rubbing it as he watches you squirm against his hand, breathless moans passing your swollen lips. 

“Do you feel good?” He asks, a gleam of innocence in his voice. Helplessly, you weakly nod and as your head lulls forward, you draw in a small sniffle. Soobin hums appreciatively as his fingers slowly explore your cunt, taking his time to feel every part of your sensitive core. He doesn’t warn you before experimentally pushing not one but two fingers inside of you, pulling a pathetic whimper from you. His eyes shimmer with curiosity as he buries them deeper, flexing and curling them to gauge a reaction from you, and he does. — Your back arches off the cushion as you try to grind yourself on his hand. 

“No, no, not like that”, he frowns as his free hand pushes you back against the backrest. “Need to stay still so that I can play with you and see for myself what you like.” He murmurs as he withdraws his fingers from your cunt, enjoying the way you whine in displeasure. Bringing his fingers to his face, he studies the way your fluids drip off of them. He places them against his lips, groaning at the taste and immediately deciding that he needs more, a lot more. 

You don't have time to wonder where his fingers went before his face replaces them as Soobin buries his head between your legs. He inhales sharply, letting your scent invade his senses before he hungrily licks a stripe along your slit. A surprised gasp leaves your lips and your fingers almost immediately find his dark hair, gripping it firmly to ground yourself as Soobin pushes his face deeper into your cunt; humming against your skin, he sends pleasurable vibrations coursing through you and your head falls back as your lips part in a broken moan. 

“You taste wonderful”, he practically moans against your wet folds as he pulls them into his hungry mouth, teeth grazing along your sensitive flesh. — Pushing his tongue as far as he can into your tight hole, enjoying the way you writher before him, trembling thighs rubbing against the sides of his face as you try your best to keep your composure. “S-soobin..!” You whine, though unsure of what you wanted as your hips buck against his face, whimpering when the tip of his nose bumps against your clit. “Hm-mhm”, his groans are muffled against your cunt and his brows drawn together in a small frown as he savors the taste of you on his tongue. 

Your teeth dig into your lip with such a force that would surely draw blood, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Wanting nothing more than to lift the silk covering your eyes and watch as Soobin practically devoured you whole. You longed to see his beautiful face once more, even if it may cost you your sight. Your trembling hands loosen their grip on his hair as they slowly trail down the sides of his face, and though it pained you to pull him from where you wanted him the most, your fingers ached to trail across his plump lips. 

Soobin looks up from between your legs, you could feel the smirk on his lips as your fingers swiped across them. Leaning into the touch of your shaking hands, he sighs as he lets his eyes flutter closed. Neither of you say anything and for a moment everything is quiet, even the storm outside seemed to have calmed into a soft patter against the stained glass windows. You let your fingers dance across his perfectly molded face, memorizing the way his nose felt, the softness of his long lashes, the arch of his brow and his glistening lips. 

Only when the persistent throb and ache of your core makes itself known again do you break the silence. “Please…” you plead, but for what you don’t know, anything you supposed. His eyes creak open as Soobin watches your trembling figure with a smug look. “What do you need?” He innocently mumbles against the soft palm of your hand. You swallow, “p-please…” — “Please what?” He queries, a finger drawing lazy circles on your clit and you whimper in desperation. “Need…need..” your words come out as a small sob as tears fill your barely dried eyes. 

“Shh, shh”, he rises to his feet and soon you feel his large frame looming over you. “I know what you need”, he coos as his thumb swipes away the fresh tears streaming down your rosy cheeks. You hiccup, feeling his hand under your chin as he pulls your face to look at him. Though you can’t see him, his warm breath against your lips is enough to know that he is near. — Before you know it, his hands are on your waist as he pulls you from the soft cushion of the throne. You shriek as your hands fumble to grab onto him. Then he sits you down once more; it takes you a moment to realize that your bare legs are straddling his lap and that your hands are pressing against his chest. 

Soobin leans back against the red embroidments of the throne, letting his large hands wander across your delicate frame as he watches you squirm on his lap with a smug smirk. The fabric of his pants felt rough against your already sensitive cunt and you battled with yourself on whether to grind yourself against his thigh or not. One of his hands, previously resting on your hip, moves between your bodies as Soobin pulls his already hard cock from his briefs. — The smirk on his lips only grows as he guides your trembling hands to wrap around it, basking in the way you whimper as you realize what exactly you’re touching. 

He felt heavy in your hands and you gulped as you tried to imagine the size of him. “Well go on then”, he encourages as his hands return to your hips, locking you in place across his legs as he forces you to involuntarily grind down against him, pulling a small whine from you. — Drawing in a short breath you focus on the way his cock feels in your hands; your thumb and index finger struggling to meet as your fingers wrapped around his shaft. Hesitantly, you stroke him, feeling the way he twitched under your touch as he groans. You could make out a few larger veins climbing along him, and when you reach the tip, it’s already coated in a sticky layer. 

You use the existing precum as you gather it on your fingers, coating his cock with it to diffuse some of the friction. His grip on your hips intensifies as you drag your thumb across his slit, making him hiss somewhere in the darkness. Growing slightly bolder at his visible reactions, you experiment with the pace of your hands, going faster and harsher, only to slow down and refocus your attention to his tip as you teased it slightly. 

With his jaw slacked, Soobin’s head rests against the cushion behind him as he gazes up against the high ceiling. His cock twitching with every move of your small hands as you worked eagerly to please him. “Ha-ah, just like that..” he grunts as his hands move across your stomach and up toward your chest, finding the soft flesh of your breast as he squeezes them gently. — He pinches your nipples and you gasp as your hips stutter forward, seeking any kind of relief. 

Soon one of his hands moves toward your face, cupping your cheek almost lovingly as he felt each ragged breath passing through you. His fingers thread through your hair and when he guides your head down you swallow a gulp, already anticipating what he wants from you. — The tip of his cock brushes against your lips and Soobin groans as you hesitantly wrap them around him, sucking his head into your mouth as you try to ignore the salty taste flaring up on your tongue. 

Despite the weight of your body on top of him, he manages to buck his hips against your face, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your mouth as you pull back with a small gag. The hand in your hair immediately breaks off any sort of escape as he pushes you down even further on his cock, “you’ve got to stay there, you’ve got to make your prince feel good”, he coos as he massages your scalp gently. You whine in protest but Soobin pays it no mind as his other hand caresses the sides of your face. Breathing in through your nose, you focus on relaxing your jaw as you allow yourself to take him deeper; feeling the way he stretched your mouth in an almost painful manner. 

Your hand hesitantly joins in to cover what your mouth can’t fit as you press your tongue against him, licking a long stripe all the way up to the tip before sinking back down again. All the while Soobin watches you with a smirk, reveling in the way you so helplessly did as he told; your pretty and delicate figure perched on his lap as you blindly tried to please him. “Does it not feel good to serve your prince?” He wonders as his fingers twirl a strand of your hair between them. You merely hum against his cock, your thighs attempting to squeeze together as you longed for relief. 

He twitches once more in your mouth and just as you think he’s about to finish down your throat, the hand in your hair pulls you off. A string of saliva connects you to him, the sight sinfully erotic and Soobin finds his gaze lingering on it. — However his attention quickly snaps back to you squirming on top of him. Large hands grab onto your hips as he brings you to hover above his cock, his head prodding against your folds and you let out a small wail as your nails dig into his shoulders as you shake your head.

“Oh but you knew this was coming”, he drawls as his thumbs draw soothing circles on the skin of your waist. “I have been good to you so far, haven’t I? — Biting your lip, you slowly nod, he had been good to you, he hadn’t hurt you... There was nothing to be afraid of, right? Other than the very much intimidating size of him. Quietly exhaling, you give a final nod as you allow yourself to slowly sink down on him, wincing at how he stretched your aching cunt. Letting out a soft grunt, Soobin takes a moment to admire how you looked stuffed full with his cock, so patiently sitting as you waited for his next command. 

He hums as his hands move down your thighs in a gentle caress. “Make yourself comfortable”, he mumbles and you take it as your sign to start moving. Still feeling uncertain, you start by slowly rocking your hips forward, immediately moaning at how full you felt, as if every small move made him brush up against all parts of you. Soobin draws in a sharp breath as he feels you immediately clench around him with such vigor that he thought he might just cum this instant. — Head falling back against the cushion once more, he takes a moment to regain his breathing as you softly grind against him. 

He lets you set the pace as his large hands come up to rest against your hips, supporting your movement as small groans leave his lips. Your own mouth hangs open as you whine in ecstasy, the feeling unlike anything you had ever felt. — Not before long does Soobin’s lips reattach themselves to your nipples as he pulls the bud between his teeth, drawing whimpers and pleas from you as your nails scrape against his broad shoulders. 

He takes his time, swirling his tongue around your sensitive tits as he lets you fuck yourself sensless on his cock; twitching deep inside of you as your walls clamp down on him so deliciously and tightly. — “Was this the fairytale you came looking for?” He grunts as his hips raise to meet yours, pulling lewd sounds from you as your breath hitches. Upon leaning back, his gaze drops to the way your desperate cunt engulfed all of him; and with his hands on your hips, he lifts you enough to where only his tip remains inside of you, watching as your mixed fluids ran down his glistening cock before slowly letting you sink back down, groaning at how he disappeared within your warmth. 

“It’s quite the sinister fairytale, don’t you think?” He hums as his thumb presses against your clit, making you throw your head back as your pace on his cock intensified. Your mind barely registers his words, too occupied with wanting to feel every inch of him against every inch of you; lost in the way his cock brushed against that sweet spot your own fingers never quite seemed to reach. — “P-please..h-ha..” you stammer, your hips stuttering into his large hands and Soobin cocks an eyebrow at you, “hm?” He notices that you’re growing tired and he gently takes over to guide you up and down his shaft. You whine as your fingers meekly fumble with the collar of his shirt. 

“N-need…need to see you.” The statement slips off your tongue before you can stop it. More than anything you longed to see his beautiful face once more, no matter how high the price. Every second spent in the darkness of the blindfold felt like torture as you were forced to listen to the way words rolled off his lips, feel the way his fingers brushed against your skin, taste him on your tongue, smell him through your nose, but never see him with your eyes. It was agonizing. 

Brushing a strand of hair from your face, Soobin quietly tuts, “you know very well I can’t let you do that.” — You frantically shake your head, you didn’t care, it didn’t matter, nothing did. “Please..” you whimper, feeling yourself grow desperate with each passing second spent on his cock without seeing him once. Soobin sighs as his large hands find yours, carefully he brings them to his face, breathing in your scent as he presses your open palm against his cheeks. “See me like this”, he softly whispers. 

You bite your lip, letting your hands trace the outlines of his prominent features. He was so beautiful, it made your chest churn. You can feel the sheen layer of sweat sticking to his forehead, the slight furrow of his brows as you draw your thumb between them, down the bridge of his nose. His lips are slightly parted and as your fingers graze along them you can feel him smirk. His eyes flutter when your fingers dance across his feathery like lashes and you hear him let out a small breath. “You’re beautiful”, the comment falls from your lips easily as your hands cup his cheeks. — Soobin hums against your touch before he presses his lips against your own. 

This time, you don’t hesitate to kiss him back as you let him slip his tongue inside your mouth. You pull his face closer, your noses nudging against one another as you grind down on his cock, his groans mixing with your soft moans. The familiar knot that had been building in your stomach felt closer to breaking than ever and your kiss grew harsher, needier, as you approached your orgasm. “Please..” you whine against his lips, feeling him smirk against you. — “You’ll be good and cum on your prince’s cock, won’t you?” His hands move back to your thighs, his thumb firmly pressing against your clit.

Wordlessly, you reply by grinding harder against him, your grip on his face becoming tight enough to the point where it might’ve even been painful; but Soobin doesn’t say anything as he lets you chase after your high, one of his hands sliding down the curve of your ass as he pulls you closer against him. The double stimulation caused by both his thumb on your clit and his cock buried deep inside your cunt made your legs tremble as your orgasm washed over you. You cry out into his mouth before pulling away to exhale against his lips. Exhausted, you still continue to rock your hips against his, shuddering at the way you continued to clench around him. 

With one of his hands on your ass, the other one your waist, Soobin jerks up into your aching core as he grunts. “I will fill you with my heirs.” — “Make you my queen”, he groans as his teeth sink into his bottom lip, his brows drawing further together as his hips stutter against yours. You feel his jaw go slack in the palm of your hands as he breathlessly moans against your lips. Hot cum shooting up inside of you as his cock twitches. His hold on you doesn’t falter, rather it grows stronger as he pulls you closer to his chest. 

Even long after he’s gone soft, he doesn’t pull out, intent on preserving every droplet of himself as deep inside of you as possible. Feeling oddly full, you let out a shaky breath as your hands fall to his chest, leaning your head to rest in the crook of his neck as exhaustion crashes over you like never before. Soobin’s large arms wrap around your bare body and you wince as he draws you in closer, causing friction to your sensitive and spent cunt. 

The moment that follows is almost tender, as Soobin’s large hands soothingly rub over your naked body; making sure to tend to your sore thighs as you breathe in his intoxicating scent. Everything is quiet, the storm outside has calmed into a light rainfall and the rhythmic patting against the windows lulled you into a dream-like state. His body feels warm against your own, and the longer you spend in his arms like this, the deeper a frightening sense of attachment forms within your chest. 

“Such a pretty thing you are”, Soobin murmurs as his hands caress your disheveled hair; tangling themselves between the strands. The gentle touch causes shivers to ripple through you despite the warmth radiating off of him and you find yourself hugging your body tighter against his. “You’ll make such a perfect queen.” He sighs as he presses his lips against your forehead tenderly. — You frown as you lift your head to try and peer at him through the thin silk of the blindfold. Queen? Sure you had heard him say it earlier, but you had thought it to be in the heat of the moment; but when he speaks again, his voice is filled with sincerity. “Why, you did not think that I was just going to let you go like that?” He sounds almost amused, a small chuckle passing his lips as his chest rumbles against yours. 

“This was my fairytale — but now it is ours to share.” 

You knew then that what had started as nothing more but an innocent adventure would end in something much graver. You had only wished to learn about its tale, now you would be forced to live it. How melancholic really, perhaps it would make a good fairytale…some day.

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[vaguelyregrettable]

Cirque Du Humaine Nature

---

Sweeping curtains lifting to reveal an empty stage, the perfect canvas for the circus of human nature. An acting group with a focus on physical expression. Having only started in the last few years, the troupe seemed to still be acquiring its footing in determining its actual appeal. Having done slapstick silent film era comedy reimaginings to full dance renditions of acclaimed musicals. A single clown would sit on the edge of the stage, notepad and pen in hand. "Oh, how futile these words to express the love I have for you." The words on the paper, read aloud, sounded strange and obtuse being recited by the clown. "Duorre, how's the new script coming along?" The woman's voice carried a mixture of arrogance and annoyance in equal parts. "It'll be ready soon enough, Dan." Duorre let out a shallow sigh with their placation. Dan, or rather Danielle, the director of the show, had been asking with ever increasing frequency. Little did she understand the creative process, atleast that's what Duorre would tell anyone willing to listen. "I need it done before the end of the week. We don't have this place forever. Besides, I want to get to practicing soon." The clown nodded and continued focusing on their work.

Three chairs are placed around the beautiful cherry wood dining table. A small candelabra is sitting at the center of the table. A single candle burning, serving as the guiding light for the first guest to find her seat. "Dinners ready." She summoned the other two guests as she sat down to an empty table. For a moment, it seemed the candle would be the only guest to join. When a young man walked out, his footsteps at once too heavy and too soft for the uncarpeted stage. "Thanks." The man whispered, obviously annoyed, as he sat down with a sigh. Finally, the last guest made his presence known. A much bigger man, older and more muscular. "Dinner looks great, babe." The man spoke with a tired rasp. The younger man growing more agitated every second sighed loudly, dramatically. The older man hadn't quite sat down yet, pulling his chair out when the younger man slammed his fists on the table. "I'm done! I won't pretend to be a part of this family as long as he's here."

The theatre was silent as Duorre sat in the front row, still writing notes. "Don't you think writing the father as some abusive piece of shit character is a little overdone?" The older man asked, having unintentionally snuck up on Duorre. "I don't know, Alex. It's still a big problem many people face." Duorre responded without looking up from their notes. "I don't know, Duo. The whole thing makes me uncomfortable, Diane knows I'd never hurt her. But does anyone else?" Alex's fear crept into his voice, causing a small shake. "For fucks sake Alex, no one will think you're an abuser, it's just a show." Duorre responded as an impatient and aggressive attempt to ease Alex's fears. "Okay, Duo." Alex responded, sounding defeated rather than calmed. "Why couldn't you put Travis or Dan in as the dad?" Alex asked after having already turned around, but before having started on leaving. "They have their own characters. It will make sense later. Besides, can you imagine if I switched you and Travis? The age difference aside, the mere size difference of you two would make it absolutely unbelievable that you'd be afraid of him." Alex nodded at Duorre and continued on his way out of the theatre, obviously unhappy with the answer he'd been given.

Stuck somewhere between three walls, a makeshift bed offered escape to a frustrated young man. The stage had finally been carpeted, more so to move the bed than to soften footsteps. The boy screamed into a pillow, a guttural full forced vocal release. Which was soon followed by a knock at the only door into the room. "Honey, can I come in?" A woman asked meekly from the other side. "Yeah, yeah, come in." The boy responded, cathartic now. The woman opened the door, taking slow steps towards him. Eventually sitting at the edge of the bed, offering the young man safety in her arms. To which he eagerly wrapped himself around her. "He's just no good for you. You need a man who can treat you right." The young man exclaimed, his voice straining from the screaming he'd done only a minute before. "I know, honey, I know." The woman cooed as she stroked his hair. "Travis, what was that?!" Duorre cried out finally. "You need a man who can treat you right? Listen, if you want to change lines, just talk to me." The actors both sat up straight, alarmed at the forcefulness with which Duorre objected. "I'm sorry, Duo. It just kind of slipped out." Travis looked down bashfully. "I kind of liked it, Duo. What say we rewrite the scene a little?" Diane spoke up, reaching one arm to rub Travis' back in an attempt comfort him. "Alright, I'll talk to Dan about it." Duorre got up swiftly, obviously annoyed. They headed to the exit, looking to get outside for fresh air. "Everyone wants to write their own fucking character, but no one wants to write the story." Duorre whispered to themself, assuming they'd gone out of earshot of the actors. "No one wants to be the villain or the damsel in distress." Dan spoke between drags on her cigarette. Offering Duorre a knowing grin. "Everyone wants to be the hero of their own story."

The bedroom looked so much larger when you sat inside it. The shadows of the theatre danced as one of the stage lights flashed, the bulb dying or perhaps not totally plugged in. The shadows kept Travis entranced, aided by Diane's comforting hand on his back. He turned to look at her. She'd been looking at him for a minute now, their eyes meeting as Travis made an attempt to form words. Diane simply shushed him, then inched closer. Travis wasn't sure what was happening at first. The whole thing took him by surprise. His mind races with thoughts of celebration and confusion. He'd never been of much interest to people his own age, not terribly long ago he was just called 'that ugly girl' but now he was making out with one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met. Her lips felt like silk on his, but the pushing of her face onto his set off in him a thousand fireworks. He kissed her back, reaching to wrap his arms around her, wanting to hold tight this moment, not sure if it was even real. "You don't have to hold so tight dear, I'm not going anywhere." Diane said playfully, having finally pulled away. Travis looked at her stunned, not sure if he was unable or simply unwilling to let go of her. "I-...I'm sorry." He pulled his hands back to his sides, looking to the floor bashfully again. "I just... I didn't expect that." Travis spoke with a near whisper. "Oh, honey. You didn't know, I've always liked you." Diane spoke with a saccharine sweetness lost on Travis in his charmed stupor. "Does this mean we're a thing now?" Travis finally mustered up the courage to ask, realizing how childish it sounded only after the last word left his mouth. "Yes, honey. If that's what you want, we're a thing now."

Burning a candle over his desk to write in his journal, the older man sat, scrawling with an increasing ferocity. "That bitch..." His muttering was slightly slurred, intending to sound drunk but coming across more as a weak nervousness. "Honey... What're you doing up so late?" His wife asked having walked in, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "Sorry dear. It's just you know... That asshole from work. Just wanted to get my thoughts down." The older man reassured his tired wife. "Okay dear. Please don't stay up too late. The... Our son has to get up early tomorrow, and I wanted you to take him to work." The wife spoke in a slightly confused manner at first, but quickly regained her steadiness. She turned to leave the room, going back to sleep. The older man, continued writing on his journal swearing under his breath. "Leave me alone, you bitch..." He'd say a few more times, until he finally finished the writing. Sitting there with his creation finally completed he was stunned. Carefully tearing the paper from the journal, reading it over one final time. "Dear... Wife. I would say I'm sorry, but you know as well as I do, this isn't my fault. Since you became pregnant with your son you've been withholding any kind of affection from me. Barely a kiss, or even a hug. That's to say nothing of the complete lack of sex we've had in the last year alone. I, as a man, have needs and you aren't fulfilling them. I can't keep doing this. The kid doesn't even look like me. Goodbye." Having read it aloud to himself he passed the paper over the candle. The letter becoming ash and floating away.

The front row of the theatre had become a kind of second home for Duorre in this time, for watching practice to throw out lines, to rewriting. This was their spot. Having sat through another miserable, confused performance, Duorre felt at a complete loss. "Duo, you didn't give the characters names. How are we supposed to address each other?" Alex asked timidly, blowing at his newly burnt fingertips. "Call each other by your names! I don't know. We'll figure it out later, Alex." Duorre cried out, frustrated and panicking internally. Diane stepped out from stage left, Duorre knew they were going to be chastised. Diane had a calm but powerful presence with the troupe. As she was the one with the longest career, and with the biggest shows under her belt. She knew how she wanted a show to be done. "Duorre, don't you think we should be helping you write this? This is your first show you've written, right? Why not let us, who have more experience, help you with it?" Diane asked, trying her best to be reasonable with the obviously passionate writer. "Well, that's why I'm helping, Diane." Dan called out from the entrance to the relatively small auditorium. "As director and head of this company, everything goes through me. So if Duo needs help, I'll come help." Dan spoke with a forcefulness not unusual for her as she walked closer to the stage. No one dared speak up against her, not wanting to have unnecessary punishment doled out upon them. "But I do like that idea. Let's just use our names. If we figure out something better later, we'll use those. But for familiarities sake, we can use our real names." Dan's words making the ruling iron clad.

Gray walls took over the stage, only three to simulate a cubicle space. The color, lack of space, and dim lighting only served to fuel the oppressive atmosphere. Alex sat at a desk, facing an empty gray wall. "Fucks sake, Alex. You look terrible!" Dan's voice rang out from off stage, entering into the scene with a devious grin and an arrogant saunter. "Yeah Dan. Just having a tough time right now." Alex heaved a sigh to cap off his statement, just before burying his face in his hands. "How about you and I get a drink after work? It'll be my treat." Dan offered with a hearty slap on Alex's back. "Are you sure?" Alex responded meekly, then caught himself before Dan could respond. "Y'know what? Yeah, let's have a drink after work." With this declaration the scene faded to black. The sound of wheels rolling across the wooden floorboards and slight grunts of invisible theatre hands. When the lights came back up the scene was a much dirtier but more comfortable atmosphere. The lighting a softer yellow, with a neon sign for a beer company that went out of business years ago hanging in front of Alex. The beer in front of him sat collecting condensation as Alex chewed at his lip, waiting on Dan who could be heard laughing and telling stories. "And then I told him he could fuck right off. Speaking of which, I gotta get back to my friend. But I'm sure you'll see me around." Dan finally acknowledging Alex's existence approached him with the swagger of a twenty year old man receiving his first dose of validation. "How's it going bud? Diane weighing you down still?" Dan looked up from his drink for the first time since the scene had changed. He simply stared at Dan for a moment. "No, I mean... Not entirely. Travis hates my guts, Diane care more about him than she loves me. I'm expecting Charles to fire me soon enough. Nothing's working out." Alex let out a sigh and took the first sip of his beer, the taste causing him to grimace. "Come with me, I'll show you something." Alex turned to Dan who had reached out his hand. Nervously Alex accepted, and took Dan's hand. Dan moved upstage, his casual clothing serving to hide his actors gender even now. As the actors stood there, basking in the spotlight for a moment before Dan could offer up his monologue. The stage was now being moved in the darkness, the wall being turned around, desk taken out, the whole scene being shifted. "Alex, out here we are men. Diane has never understood that. She wanted you to be something your not. Travis doesn't understand his masculinity, you know how it is with kids these days." Dan began his monologue, looking out to the audience. "We are men, made to conquer. Free to fight, take what we want! She doesn't give you what you want, it's time to find someone who will."

The emptiness of the stage as the set sat in the paint, waiting for a new paint job. Duorre sat staring at the set, journal in hand asking themself questions. "What will a new paint job do for me?" From stage right, Travis walked softly into view, freshly made up for practice. "I often ask myself the same question. Even if I get surgery, will people see me as a man?" Duorre stared at Travis, unsure of how to respond to the strangely vulnerable admission. "I mean, I wonder if anyone even sees me as an adult. I know I'm just eighteen, but the way everyone talks to me, about me, always feels different." Travis continued on, never looking directly at Duorre. "Is it because I'm younger? Is it because I'm inexperienced? Don't i deserve equal treatment?" Travis ended his monologue by sitting at the edge of the stage in front of Duorre, looking at the journal in their hands. "Travis, I wish I knew what to tell you. But I respect you, I care about you." Duorre responded quietly, sounding scared and defeated. Travis finally locked eyes with Duorre, taking a deep breath before asking his final question. "What do you think it means to be a man?"

Fire red lights lit up the stage, the dinner table no longer holding candles, the plates empty, the three people sitting there staring at their plates silently, at first. "Why don't you two ever go out anymore?" Travis asked with a devilish grin. "I think you'd have to ask your mother about that. Right, Diane?" Alex deflected the question with an obvious poison dripping from his every letter. "Well honey, I don't think we really have the time or money. Especially with the way your father likes to go out with his friends from work." Diane snapped back, a quiet confidence empowering her rebuttal. "Well at least someone actually gives a fuck about me when I go out! You don't even kiss me anymore, much less have sex with me. You're lucky I don't go sleep around, many guys in my shoes would've already." All pretense dropped as Alex erupted, slamming his fists onto the table to lead into a short coda before anyone could respond. "Jesus Christ Alex! If you wanted some dumb easy slut to fuck your brains out while I take care of the house and Travis you really should just fucking leave and find her. Travis and I will survive without you." Diane went straight for the jugular with her carefully crafted, yet sloppily executed response. She'd been expecting this argument for weeks, trying her best to prepare mentally for how she'd respond. But the heat of the moment, the overwhelming emotions, and the fact that Travis was there went against everything she had expected. "Um, yeah I think I'll go to my room now. Dinner was good Dia-... Mom." Travis played nervousness badly, obviously excited to have elicited this reaction from the both of them. As he left the room, he turned and grinned at his would be father figure. "You're not even his real mother." Alex finally whispered once Travis had left the room entirely. "Do you really think you're in any position to raise him? What about his 'actual' mother?" Diane responded coldly. Unhappy with the reminder. "Duorre's not coming back, she won't talk to me. You know this already. She chose fame over her family." Alex answered, nearly despondent. Diane went quiet for a moment, before finally retorting. "So a woman has to choose success in her career or success in her love life?"

A thick white door creaked open, leading into a den of depravity. The dressing room has been the set to many a sexual misadventure. Travis knew this. He'd heard about it all through school. "Uh, knock knock, anyone in there?" He announced himself before actually knocking. "You can come in, dear. Just be sure to close the door behind you." Diane stood with her back turned to Travis, perusing costumes lazily. Travis went to the other side of the room, both nervous and excited. Diane had been one of his heroes in theatre. Her performance in Chicago was what had sold him on being an actor. To be working with his hero, to be friends with her, had been overwhelmingly exciting. "You don't need to be so nervous. I can feel your shaking all the way from here." Diane spoke softly, sweetly easing the frightened man's nerves. "I'm sorry, it's just I've always admired you. You act with such dignity and power. Every character you play is like the star of the show." Travis caught himself before gushing anymore. Diane simply turned to him and smiled. "Thank you, dear. But really, you don't have to be nervous. You're already an accomplished actor yourself." Diane returned to her perusal of costumes before finally picking one out. "Ah shit, you think you could help me with this dress?" Diane looked annoyed at the dress, the zipper quite low on its back. Travis nodded, turning around to offer Diane some privacy as she undressed. "You're gonna have to get used to changing in front of people. This is just part of show business." Diane remarked, almost condescending with her teasing. Travis sighed and turned around to look at Diane, her form an image of beauty directly from his dreams. "Like what you see?" Diane smirked and raised an eyebrow as she caught the young mans newfound attentiveness. Travis, knowing what she intended, made his move. Holding her from behind, dragging his hands from her hips to her breasts to her stomach, a soft sensual exploration of a dream. "Let's get those clothes off of you too." Diane turned to face Travis, slowly pulling his shirt over his head. "Oh... Uh.... Dan's been holding my HRT, so uh... I'm sorry." Travis covered his chest binder with hands, cowering in shame. Diane undeterred wrapped her arms around the young man. "What for baby?" Diane whispered into Travis's ear as she reached to remove the binder. Travis finally understood the situation, feeling a surge of confidence filling him he kissed her. The meeting of lips, hands, bodies. This skin on skin consecration, a prayer to lust given shape. Travis whispered small prayers to himself, giving thanks for his luck.

Another bedroom scene, highlighting Travis who sat on the bed. Harsh yellow light focused directly on him, as he stared at his feet. "Fuck him anyway." Travis would exclaim before hearing a soft knock at his door. "Come in." Travis said with a soft sigh. Diane opened the door, pausing for a moment fighting a smile as she stared at the young man, before approaching him. "I know you don't care for him, but he is your father." Diane tried to be comforting but her tone conveyed more of a subtle agreement with him. "He treats you like shit, you need a real man. A man who'll treat you right." Travis spoke angrily, still staring at his feet. "A man like you, is that what you mean?" Diane asked, finally revealing that devious, knowing smile. "Well yeah! I mean you're closer to my age than you are his!" Travis stammered slightly at first, growing more confident as the sentence dragged on. "I'm still your step mom, Travis." Diane said softly, with a small sigh as she moved to hold him. "But you don't have to be."

The lights dimmed to a full blackout, and the scene change would be minor but somehow even more important. Alex sat on the bed now as the spotlight directed all attention to him. Dan would rise up behind him, grabbing onto Alex's shoulders with a smile of afterglow on his face. "That was great." Dan spoke with a comforted confidence. "We can't keep doing this. Diane will find out." Alex spoke sharply, capping off his reminder with a defeated sigh. "I thought you were leaving her. What does it matter if she knows then?" The words shot out of Dan's mouth like bullets. "Even if I do, what happens to Travis? He's old enough to be on his own. But if given the choice, he'll obviously stay with her." Alex lamented before hiding his face in his hands. "Do you love me, Alex?" Dan stood over Alex now, looking down at him. "You need to make a choice. I don't want to spend the rest of my life waiting on you." Dan crossed his arms, turning away from Alex to face the audience. "I know, you're right. I'm just scared. What do I tell her? Oh honey, sorry it turns out I'm not actually abusive. I was just gay and in denial! Do you really think that would make anything better?" Alex pleaded with Dan, hoping to find answers if not empathy. "We are men. We take what we want. Whoever stands in our way be damned." Dan responded bitterly. "Show her who the man of the house is."

Once again lounging in the front row with a journal and pencil, Duorre scribbled out notes. Line after line, the pain would only add to the beauty they kept chanting. "Knock knock!" A loud, boisterous voice rang out from the entrance. A tall figure walked in, a soft gray cardigan layered over a white v-neck, down to light gray chinos, to a fairly simple pair of loafers bearing a designer branding. "Well, hello! I am Keith Weiderlander! And you must be Dan, I believe you spoke to my assistant." Duorre stood fully straight, frozen in place with a mixture of confusion and fear. "Uh, no. I'm actually Duorre, the lead writer for the show. Dan should be here soon, though." Keith eyed up Duorre, taking stock of them with a piercing gaze. "I could've sworn the writer was queer in some way. But whatever, fake it until you make it, right?" Keith laughed heartily, to which Duorre laughed timidly, only trying to play along. "Hello, Mr. Weiderlander! Sorry I'm a little late. the traffic was awful!" Dan stood at the entrance to the auditorium, a strange look of nervousness on her face. "Well, well, two surprises! I was under the impression the director was a man." Duorre and Dan both subtly flinched at this comment. "Do you want to run me through what it's about so I can see if this is worth my time and money?" Keith proceeded to sit right next to Duorre, looking over their notes, as Dan shuffled her way over to the both of them, standing to Keith's other side, trying to talk about her vision for the play. "Well, you see, Duo came up with this great idea of connecting all of these awful people through their societal problems directly affecting them. I really came in to help focus on women's issues and give them an understanding of the real problems women face." Keith simply nodded, muttering little uh huhs to urge her explanation along. "So like Diane's character is a young woman trapped in a shitty marriage with an abusive, in the closet gay man. Travis is trying to understand what it means to be a man when he hates his role model. Alex is coming to terms with being a gay man trapped in a heterosexual marriage. Where my character is his secret lover and rival. My character, being a man, explores the more toxic mindsets of men." Keith simply looked at Duorre, waiting a moment before asking. "And what character are you playing?" Duorre looked at their notes, uncomfortable with the attention Keith was giving them. "I'm playing Travis' biological mother. A woman who left her family to seek fame in writing." Keith took a few excruciating moments to digest all of the information he was given before finally letting out a loud boisterous laugh. "I love how you're playing with all the gender roles by putting people in the opposite gendered characters!" Duorre's face turned a bright shade of red, their embarassment painfully obvious. "Yeah... Duo and I are still working out the kinks for his character." Dan said rigidly, Duorre stared at her in disbelief for a minute before standing. "Excuse me, I need to go, but it was lovely meeting you, Keith." Duorre spoke near robotically, shaking the man's hand before rushing out of the theatre. "He's a cute one. Should definitely keep that one around." Keith spoke snidely with a lustful grin. "Yeah. Um, so did you want to talk about funding now or later?" Dan asked with a mixture of nervousness and annoyance. "I'll be in touch about that. Just be sure to check your email."

Sitting in front of the mirror, Travis examined himself with growing disdain. His body feels like a prison, keeping him from being truly himself. "I'm coming in." Dan announced before opening the door to the dressing room. Upon realizing that it was only Travis in the room, Dan let out a small, tired sigh. "When are you going to let me get my HRT?" Travis asked angrily, not looking towards Dan. "After the show, kid. I can't have you getting all hormonal in the middle of the show." Dan responded with equal annoyance. Travis stood and pushed past her to leave the room, huffing and on the verge of tears. Dan went to look over the costumes, seeing what needed washing, fitting, or replacing. "You really shouldn't be withholding that from him, y'know." Duorre spoke quietly, leaning against the doorframe of the now fully opened door. "Duo, you know as well as I do he's unstable. Besides... This company needs more femme presenting folks." Duorre's eyes lit up at Dan's comment. "Oh for fucks sake Danielle, you fucking misgender me in front of that producer douchebag, you're forcing Travis to keep living with constant dysphoria so you don't have to feel like the only strong woman, and what about Alex or Diane?" Duorre exploded with an unusual anger, their voice carrying well through the building. "I'm sorry, okay? I just want to be able to get this show off the ground. We all have to make some sacrifices." Dan muttered in an ashamed response. "What are you sacrificing? I apparently have to live up to your ideal of feminine life experience to write female characters, all the while you torture Travis and me for our gender presentations. And what, you're too scared of Diane to ask her to sacrifice anything? Alex is probably just your fucking whipping boy, right? So what the fuck are you sacrificing?" Duorre's rage continued, in that moment looking like a ten foot tall monster, rather than the tiny, wispy writer. "Duo, I am simply trying to make spaces for women like me. For women who don't fit in to the exact mold that society has set up for us, powerful, successful, and strong women." Dan finally having found her footing in the fight, stood as an equal to Duorre now. "Diane has lived in such a performative manner, for the entertainment of the patriarchy that she's pretty much a lost cause. Alex is on the cusp of recognizing his own toxic masculinity and privilege. Travis is the only one I can actually save."

Days after the blowout between Duorre and Dan would be quiet. The two focus on working separately. Until the day Alex finally sat down with Duorre. "You know she just wants what's best for everyone." Alex spoke softly, meek in his demeanor. "She doesn't get to decide what's best for people." Duorre responded in between scribbling more lines into their notes. Alex sighed before continuing on nervously. "Duo, she's taught me so much. I am becoming a better person, I'm finally becoming someone I can like. Please, just hear her out." Duorre finally looked at Alex, frustration mounting in their chest, before finally dissipating. "Okay, Alex. I'll do it for you." With the begrudging acceptance of the truce, Alex left Duorre to find Dan. The two would show up only minutes later, Dan looking similarly angsty about the entire situation. "We don't have to like each other. But we do have to work together, okay?" Dan's voice felt like a boulder landing on Duorre's chest. "Give Travis his hormones, and we will." Duorre responded calmly, their voice still burning with rage. "After the show, okay?" Dan looked at Duorre, extending her hand as a means to close the deal. Duorre shook on it, still quite upset but not seeing any other options. "Let's just write my character then."

Curtains closed, spotlight on, and from between them Duorre would enter, the spotlight focused on them. "You know I wanted to go my own way. Wanted to be like Joan Jett, or even more so Joan of Arc. Go to war with the men who'd hold me back." With this introduction, the curtains began to open, Duorre ran stage left as the lighting filled the stage which now showcased a living room. Alex sat on a couch, facing the audience. "Hey Diane, what're we doing for dinner?" He asked lazily, turning to lay down. "I wasn't expecting you to be home. I figured you'd be off with Dan." Diane's words cut into Alex, but his fatigue disallowed him a physical reaction. Instead, he simply sighed and covered his face with his arm. When a knock came from off stage. "Travis, can you get that?" Alex would yell to his equally off-stage son. Upon being called, Travis would walk on stage, talking with Duorre. "It's mom! She's back."

Black out to quick transition, the cast now sat around an empty dinner table. "I didn't expect to see you again, Duo." Alex spoke with an icy tone, refusing to look at the woman. "You know I needed my own freedom, Alex. I couldn't simply be you're stay at home housewife. Besides, Travis looks like he's grown into a strong, healthy adult!" Duorre affectionately motioned to her son. "Have you met Diane before, mom?" Travis would ask excitedly, feeling a mixture of happiness and overwhelming nervousness about the whole situation. "Oh no, actually, I haven't. Diane, is it? It's lovely to meet you!" The two women would exchange pleasantries as a phone was heard ringing. "Sorry, that's me. It might be work." Alex explained before walking towards the audience, Dan coming in from the wing of the stage. "I'm tired of all waiting for you to be ready, Alex. It's now or never." Dan would say exhaustedly into the phone. "Dan, you know it's not that simple. I have a wife and child. I can't just start over with you! That takes planning and work!" Alex would plead, looking around nervously as he did. "No, this is it, Alex. I can't keep waiting on you. I'm leaving the state, I want you to come with me." Dan spoke more calmly now, firm in his stance. "You'll have to go without me, Dan. I love you, but it's just too fast." Alex would respond, sounding absolutely defeated. "You're going to regret this." Dan screamed before hanging up on Alex. With his call finished, he returned to the dining room, and his shoulders dropped in depression. "Who was that, dear?" Diane asked, half heartedly. "Work, they want me to do overtime." Alex responded, his voice quaking with pain and fatigue. "Oh, Duorre and I were just talking about going out with Travis somewhere, like a family excursion."

Brick walls painted with graffiti, highlighted by occasionally flickering street lamps. The stage had become an urban sprawl, the city the first true escape for the newly made trio. Travis walked a step or two behind the women, eagerly sharing stories with each other. "How could I have known?" Travis would ask aloud as the lights zeroed in on him. "Through such destruction comes beauty as pure as yours." Travis took this moment to take the front and center position of the stage, preparing his monologue. "These feelings, something I'd never experienced before, is this what it means to love? There's never been a beauty like hers, a voice so delicate and pure. How was I to resist temptation such as this?" Travis would end his monologue by dropping his head as the lights came up, filling the stage once more. "Hey Travis. Hurry up, I don't want you getting lost now." Diane would call out, snapping Travis out of his romantic daydreams. "Of course, sorry, Diane." Travis would finally catch up with the two, Duorre studying both of them quietly before breaking the newfound silence. "Didn't realize you two were on a first name basis. That's really nice. I guess you're closer in age than we are, though." Duorre laughed, inviting the other two to laugh along with her. "I guess we just have a mutual respect of one another." Diane finally said, avoiding Duorre's gaze. "I'm glad, I always knew Travis would grow up strong and independent." Duorre responded affectionately nodding to Travis. "I guess I had to be." Travis's harsh response took them both off guard. "I mean, dad never talked to me. Not in any meaningful way. You never kept in touch, and so I just had to learn." The trio went silent upon Travis's revelation. Diane opened her mouth to speak up when her phone rang. "Oh, excuse me, I'll catch up with both of you." Now Diane took the spotlight, answering her phone shakily as Dan stood just a step outside of the curtains, still offstage but visible. "Diane?" Dan's voice sounding surprisingly calm. "Yes, who is this?" Diane's fear grew exponentially as she responded, her hands trembling as her eyes widened. "Don't worry about who I am, I just need you to know something." Diane went silent, her eyes glossing over as she stared out over the audience. "Okay, thank you." She'd finally responded, having been fully informed, to which she calmly turned back to the group. "What was that about, Diane?" Duorre asked, looking for any kind of an easier topic to latch onto. "Alex and I are done."

The empty seats of the theatre looked like an ocean for Duorre, who was looking simply to lose themselves in something other than stress. Duorre slumped into their usual seat, front row stage left. Finally, they pull out their journal to start writing when a loud objection rang through. "Duorre!" It was Dan, holding her script, shaking it angrily as she approached them. "Are you fucking serious? You're character is some kind of villain for being a strong, independent woman? Do you even know how misogynistic that is?" Dan screamed in Duorre's face, before throwing the script at them. "I'm not villainizing her, Dan. She made her decisions, she's just as responsible for them as anyone else." Duorre responded calmly, tired of the argument already. "So the other woman is grooming a kid, yours is a deadbeat, the only good character here is mine!" Dan continued shouting, her face growing redder by the second. "Alex and Travis are innocent in your eyes?" Duorre responded quizzically. "I swear Duorre, I'll fucking ruin you. You are just another misogynistic guy in this shitty industry."

Curtains open to reveal the kitchen once more. The lighting gives a solemn atmosphere, as Duorre and Alex sit across the table from one another. Neither looked at the other, instead silently staring at the table. "We've gotta talk about Travis." Duorre would finally speak up. "He's an adult. It's not like we really have to have a custody battle." Alex retorted with a surprising viciousness. "But where's he going to stay? You can't afford this place on your own, and I'm always on tour..." Duorre responded, leaving space for a final suggestion. "You think he wants to stay with Diane?" Alex finally asked, beginning to stand up. "Do you really think that's a good choice?" With his hands shaking, he stood, still staring at the table. Unsure of what his next move would be, to lash out or walk away. "I think she's a healthier role model than you or I, Alex." Duorre would finally respond, doing her best to be diplomatic. "Because I'm gay and you're a starving artist? I hadn't realized you'd become so conservative in your old age!" Alex fired off, his rage building with every response. "It's not about us. It's about where he'd be happiest and have the most stable home life." Duorre pleaded with him, doing her best to be comforting. "Fuck you." Alex responded, taking this chance to leave the room as Diane entered in. "How'd it go?" Diane asked, a small quiver in her voice. "About as well as you'd expect. But it looks like he's not fighting us." Duorre answered with a near robotic tone. "I'm taking Travis and we're going to the hotel then. Until we can figure out something else." Diane turned to walk away, not expecting any kind of resistance from Duorre. "Just make sure he doesn't get hurt, okay?"

Mirrors covered in foundation and costumes with makeup stains, the dressing room of the theatre full of dirty laundry. Dan stood in front of the mirror, applying eyeliner. Diane's voice would find its way in through the closed door. "I'm coming in!" Dan turned for a second before continuing with her makeup routine. Diane opened the door, seeing only Dan she offered a silent greeting before setting her purse down and settling in at the other station. "Diane, I wanted to get your opinion on something." Dan asked, still casually working through her makeup, going for a naturally masculine look. "Do you think this plays a bit misogynistic?" Diane paused her own makeup routine, thinking of a response. "I don't know, I think it's just a play. You're looking too much into it." Dan would put down her lipstick, turning to Diane. "Duorre's making all of the female characters look evil, though." Diane would continue on nonchalantly with her makeup. "Dan, I really don't read any part that doesn't involve me. I don't care all that much." Dan slammed her fists against the counter, holding all of the makeup. "You're really going to just roll over and let a man write this trash about women? What kind of woman are you?" Diane stopped her routine to look at Dan now, still calm but obviously annoyed. "You're the one that told us to treat Duorre as a non-binary person, whatever that is. You were the one that promised you'd keep them in line. This is your responsibility, I'm just doing my job. Besides that Travis kid has a lot of potential."

The lights shone on the dining room scene once more. Alex and Diane are sitting at opposite ends of the table now. "I should've told you." Alex would mutter, angry and defeated. "I always knew." Diane responded coldly. "You never got hard with me, I figured for the longest time it was my body. But when you started spending all this time with Dan, I knew." Her methodic response shook Alex to his core as he started to weep. "I'm so sorry. I just... I didn't know." Alex finally managed to blubber out. "I'm just glad you won't be taking it out on Travis anymore." Diane stared daggers at him now. The accusation hung heavy in the air. "What are you talking about?" Alex responded, shocked but slowly becoming enraged. "You've always pushed him to be the man you couldn't be." Diane smirked, confident in her argument. "I wanted him to be better than me. I never meant to hurt him. He's got so much goddamn potential."

The stage set for a dining room scene, all the lights on, Duorre and Dan both looking up to the actors in stage, from the pit. "Does everyone understand how we're handling this finale?" Duorre asked with a nervous forcefulness. "Everyone dies or is miserable, right?" Dan responded, obviously annoyed. "No, it's not that simple, Dan!" Duorre cried out. "Does anyone have a happy ending?" Travis asked, stepping closer to the front of the stage. "This isn't the end. That's the point. Your life doesn't simply end because no one's watching." Duorre countered, uncharacteristically defensive. "Duorre, are you saying there's room for a sequel?" Dan asked, not even bothering to hide her contempt. "I don't know. I just think these characters have a life of their own, y'know?" Duorre responded, feeling more cornered all the time. "Either way, we've gotta impress that producer, right? So we just have to put on the best show we can." Diane chimed in apathetically. "I'm glad someone gets it." Dan cheered, finally cracking a smile. "Let's go study the script some more." Alex muttered quietly, ushering Travis to follow him. As the two men left, they could hear Dan loudly scolding Duorre. "She's a bit much, don't you think?" Travis spoke calmly, ending his question with a soft chuckle. "She's actually really caring. It's just that she wants the best for everyone." Alex responded, letting out a soft sigh. "You and Diane seem to get along well." Alex's words stopped Travis in his tracks immediately, causing him to tense up, ready to fight. "Yeah, so what?" Alex turned back to Travis before looking forward again to speak. "I used to hook up with her when I was first starting out with this group, too." Alex let out a small hurt laugh. "She was this big star, and she gave me attention and affection that no one else gave me." Alex now finally turned fully to face Travis, seeing his guarded posture didn't help him feel any better. "We're leaving together after this show. She told me so." Travis finally muttered. "I am just telling you to be careful, kid. You're a talented actor, and trans folk need more representation, I think you fit the bill perfectly." Alex would put a hand on Travis's shoulder, an act of peace. "You're not my fucking dad dude. Back off." Travis lashed out, pushing Alex's hand away before stomping away. "I just don't want you to get hurt like I did."

Curtains were rising for the premiere. Everyone was excited and nervous. Potential producers and other beneficiaries in attendance, as Dan would remind everyone. Every scene starts a little too quiet or too loud, and the set changes getting mixed up. Candles in bedrooms, graffitied brick walls in a bar. The show dragged on, and everyone involved recognizing the disaster and becoming more afraid every time they left the stage. "How are we fucking up this badly? We've been practicing for months!" Duorre cried out on the verge of a panic attack. The final scene had started, the climax of the entire show. When the lights went out with a large bang. "What was that?" Someone cried out, panicking in the darkness. "Sounds like one of the bulbs pop and blew a fuse." Another audience member answered as everyone started filing out of the theatre. Duorre looked for the cast, finding Dan first. "You have to understand, this was a freak accident!" Dan begged Keith, who was looking rightly annoyed. "Dan, did everyone get out okay? Is someone checking the fuse box?" Duorre asked, the panic setting in fully now. "Yeah yeah, Duo. Everything's fine." Dan shooed them away trying to focus on bartering a second chance with the producer. Duorre turned away, frustrated and worried, searching the small crowd for their cast mates. "Hey! Duo! Over here!" Travis called out, sounding excited but a little shaken up. "Guess the show wasn't meant to be, huh?" Travis asked, trying to lighten the mood as Diane and Alex stared at the theatre silently. "I guess not dude. I'm just glad no one got hurt." Duorre responded, letting out a long tired breath. "Alright folks, good news bad news time!" Dan announced, stepping into the small gathering. "Good news, no more drama. Y'all don't have to deal with me or Duorre anymore. Bad news, the shows not getting a second chance. I don't know what any of us are gonna do."

The day after the premiere felt abnormally quiet, solemn even. Everyone was packing up costumes, makeup, saying goodbyes. Duorre took to their normal seat in the audience one last time. "So that's it, huh?" Duorre asked no one before silently sobbing. Dan sat down next to Duorre, looking straight ahead while addressing them. "I'm sorry this didn't work out. I really am. Maybe we can work together again in the future, " Dan spoke almost robotically, still cracks in her voice revealed her anguish. "I don't think so." Duorre whispered in response, no longer crying. "I gave Travis his needles. Just like you wanted." Dan responded, her voice had become dry ice now. "You should'nt have taken them away in the first place. Travis is eighteen now! Let him make his own god damn decisions." Duorre lashed out, tears forming in their eyes once again. "I have to take care of everyone in this group. And sometimes that means doing the hard things." Dan responded with a sigh, before standing turning to leave. "Don't speak to me of responsibility. You couldn't even finish the play." With those final words, Dan walked away, passing Travis on her way out. Travis now replaced her in the seat next to Duorre. "This whole thing sucks." Travis mumbled, slumping into the chair. Before Duorre could respond, Alex had sat next to Travis. "She's gone now." Was all he could muster, his posture rigid, and his eyes full of fear and anger. "Who? Dan?" Duorre asked, not understanding what was happening. "No. Diane." Travis fell out of his seat he'd slid down too far. Upon standing, he simply turned and left, without a word. "She dumped him." Alex muttered, his voice shaking with anger. "What he's too old now that he's legal?" Duorre asked with a wry smirk. "No, she wants a real penis. At least, that's what she told him." Alex finally spoke normally before standing up. "I gotta go find him. He's not handling this well." He walked out of the theatre as Diane appeared from the shadows of the stage. "You're a real asshole Duorre." Her words came out in near hisses. "Why lead on Travis like that? What do you gain from this?" Duorre asked pointedly, to which Diane flinched, avoiding their gaze. "I loved him. I didn't mean to. I wanted to help him discover his true self. I didn't mean to let it get this far. I have to make him hate me so that he won't come back." Diane spoke with a vulnerability that sounded foreign in her voice. "He's such a beautiful person. I didn't mean to hurt him." She'd hung her head as she slowly walked past Duorre. "Why Alex then?" Duorre asked coldly as she stood in their blindspot. "I thought I could help him open up. Maybe save him from Dan." She looked up, eyeing Duorre for a brief moment before leaving the theatre. Leaving Duorre sitting alone once again.

The final day of the load out had wrapped up, vans left with equipment. The only people still at the theatre a ghastly cast of would be stars. They sat in the theatre space, one last time, Dan opening up a bottle of champagne. "I bought this to celebrate the premiere, but now I guess it's more to commisserate." Dan announced as she poured herself a glass, passing the bottle to Diane. "I'm sure we'll work together again soon. One bad show isn't the end of a career." Diane reassured everyone, including herself. "I mean, Dan and I have some plans for the future." Alex spoke softly as usual. "Yeah, I guess I'm going to try to get back in school." Travis said, grabbing the bottle and pouring himself a glass. "This is a one-time thing, kid. Don't get used to it." Dan warned Travis. "Has anyone seen Duorre?" Travis asked, looking to change the topic. "I swear I saw them around here somewhere. Maybe they're packing up some more costumes." Diane remarked, not terribly interested in finding them. "I'll go get them, this is for all of us." Alex spoke with a nurturing softness. As he began to walk away, Travis followed him. Silently, they walked through the halls. Finally, finding the writer sitting slouched over in the dressing room. "Duo, you okay?" Travis asked as he approached. The scene now fully coming into view as Travis can now see the gun laying atop the script, which was bound with a red ribbon. "I couldn't even do this. What good am I?" Duorre asked, crying softly onto the barrel of the gun. "Do what? Duorre, what's going on?" Alex asked now, his stoic facade finally giving way to obvious worry. "I wrote this for you. For all of you. And when the ending came, I didn't know what to do. I don't want to hurt you. I want you to grow, to be better. But maybe I'm the one who needs to be better." Duorre finally pulled their head up, turning to look at the two men. "How arrogant I must be to tell you that you're only human. How shameful of me to write this atrocious script. I just hate seeing you hurt yourselves like this." Alex and Travis exchanged glances, neither quite sure how to respond. "This was to be my admission of love. To all of you. This was my labor of love for you. But I fucked it up. I couldn't find a resolution. I couldn't make an end. Because I don't want this love to end." Duorre sighed, still crying, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Take it. Burn it." Duorre said, handing the script to the men. Travis took it, not entirely understanding but scared regardless. "Go. Now!" Duorre snapped, the two men jumped at the sudden yelling before slowly walking out, neither really sure what to do. "I can't change them. What kind of love is it that I'd want to control them. What right do I have to criticize their choices, their lives. Perhaps, with a bullet I'll finally find some recognition." Duorre spoke to the gun, the tears coming faster now that the men had left. "But what kind of love would hurt them like this? What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to fucking do?"

[starshipsofstarlord]

Hey! Could I request a fic where the reader and Bucky like each other and she has to pretend she’s Zemo’s girlfriend for the Madripor mission? Bucky gets jealous and all that jazz and they confess their feelings :)

Madripoor Muse

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | Bucky harbours feelings for you, but despite Sam’s inflatable encouragement, refuses to inform you of them. However, seeing you pretend to be Zemo’s girlfriend whilst on a mission, more so when the criminal knows what strings he is pulling at, happens to infuriate him inevitably.

Warnings | jealousy, violence, references to sex work (there is nothing wrong with it, everyone is free to do what they want or need to do to get by, angst, mentions of death, grief, smut, unprotected sex, fluff, swearing

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

“I mean, if he looks like a pimp, then I look like one of his workers.” Sam snorted at your words, as Bucky’s eyes trailed down the skin that was exposed through the small piece of fabric, that in modern days, was considered a dress.

Zemo simply sighed at the pair of you, shaking his head as though the former winter soldier would understand his point. “It’s Madripoor, not an american graduation. You are not going to be clothed in long robes in this place, expression is in the body, and how it is clothed.”

“Or not clothed.” Bucky retorted, frowning at how you shuffled beneath the criminal’s gaze, crossing your arms, which definitely did not help the situation, considering that it did nothing more than make your breasts rise. Admitting defeat, you let them fall, holding them to your sides, outlining your hips, which once more, was not how you wished to be portrayed as you walked through the illuminated air, careful to keep pace in your heels.

“We all have a part to play, winter soldier.” Helmut spoke, his accent causing waves to ripple through the euphoria of lights that lay up ahead. “I am me, you are you, Sam is the Smiling Tiger, and...”

“I’m a hooker?” Once more, Zemo showed disappointment, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned to you. It seemed that tonight, you, a smart and well coordinated avenger, was absolutely adoring testing his patience, but that was his trick.

He was the captive here, forced to help the forsaken superheroes that had prompted him with the idea of escaping from the government’s ensured facility. And it was without a doubt that he would mess with their minds each chance that he got.

“No, think of yourself as more personalised to one person than that y/n. Your as you people say ‘arm candy’.” He used quotations with his fingers, causing you to reach for Sam’s arm to assume the role. “Oh no, not his.” Zemo made a come here motion, making you gulp.

“You’re kidding, right?” Bucky huffed, glaring unimpressed towards the Baron, who only tutted in reply, implying that he indeed was serious. “This is stupid.”

“Stupid would be allowing this hurrah of new age super soldiers to continue their war path, don’t you think James?” Zemo asked condescendingly, holding his arm out for you to grasp onto, so that you would look more than an associate, or a serum induced bodyguard.

“Me posing as your sugar baby is stupid.” You muttered, as you walked, Bucky on look out behind you, as he glared frustratedly at where you and the mass murderer were touching.

Zemo tugged you by the arm for the comment, causing you to roll your eyes at the man that had tried his best and succeeded, at destroying your team; your family. Nevertheless, you followed his stride, well aware of the sharp eyes of the man behind you.

As you entered the club, a spectrum of blue lights illuminated your skin, as you stared around in wander. There was a variety of all didn’t people, born from different virtues, wealths and races all intermingling around in the space.

If Zemo didn’t have a leash on your arm, you’d have stared for a little longer, perhaps even gotten purposely lost in the sea of bodies that flashed with such ambition and prospect. All were designed to suit their surroundings, and you wished that you could fit in that easily too.

But you were lost, roped into this journey by the Falcon, the man that denied Steve’s wishes and passed on the shield to firmer hands, still uncertain of where you were planning on going. What you needed was a fight, a reason to keep roaming upon the earth. If you came up empty, you may have well have taken up Thor’s offer, and accompanied him with his new friends.

The avengers were disbanded, dotted with different services. You’d heard nothing from Wanda, it appeared that her phone had been cut off, leaving you gravely confused, but you understood that she needed time to mourn. But you couldn’t give yourself the same pampering, if you did so, then all purpose of life would slip through your fingers, and you’d be left vulnerable, a hero that willingly fell from their graces.

Finally you reached the bar, with the shadow of the winter soldier hovering over your shoulder, watching as Zemo’s untrustworthy hand trailed along your furthest collarbone, using it as his sway to grab your attention. He set his sights upon his touch, glaring harshly at it.

No one would question the expression that he wore, it was only natural for his reputation to be proceeded with such a dagger like gaze; he was supposed to be playing the killer that he once was after all.

“My lady, what would you like to drink?” Helmut asked, turning your gaze towards his, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forbidding you from even try to look away from his sly eyes.

“White wine will do the trick, my love.” The words felt like spew falling from your mouth, but you withheld the impulse to grimace, instead, flashing him a flirtatious smile, fanning his face with your eyelashes as you were still held to face him.

“Fine choice.” He smirked, nodding towards the bartender, who had just presented the Smiling Tiger imposter with a shot that had the intestines of a snake floating around in its liquid. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Sam hesitated to drink it for a moment, before throwing it down the hatch, treating it as an old trick.

Madripoor, for an island trapped in violence, didn’t appear that bad on the outside. That was, until the shooting began, causing the lot of you to leg it from the citizens targeting their rifled hardware towards you, running with your lives depending on it.

You had temporarily lost Zemo, as you put head your own safety, your pace and spot being just between Sam and Bucky, as the first man’s arms flailed as he insisted that he could not run in the heels that he was wearing. Huh, you’d be running in heels all your life, maybe he shoulda learned how to do so earlier, it came as a great talent.

Gunshots rang out, as a hooded figure unveiled themselves, introducing the older face of a blonde that you had once knew. It had been quite some time since you had last seen her, all having gone your separate ways to evade the law, and its cruel jurisdiction. “Sharon?” Bucky spoke, instantly recognising the woman that had aided them in the past.

Once you were all reintroduced, and met with her annoyance, which was surely understandable, she led you to her property, where you were able to part from the Sokovian, and share your distaste to the man, as well as remove the skimpy dress.

It pooled at your feet as you tossed it from your ankle, leaving you in nothing more than your underwear. As you squinted, searching for some reason that you were continuing with this foolishness of thinking that the world still considered you a hero, an echo of a knock rattled against the door. It was metal upon wood; Bucky.

“Come in.” You spoke, as you tied a spare robe around your waist, watching as the super soldier, who appeared less stoic, and more human stepped into the room, closing the door behind his emerging shadow. “You alright man?”

Bucky’s eyes drifted down for a moment, before they splintered back up towards your face, his jaw physically tensing, the notion well visible. He breathed in a long breath through his nose, as he stepped closer, his brow harsh and lined upon his forehead.

“I didn’t like Zemo putting his filthy hands on you.” He admitted aloud, the words of Sharon, teasing him for pining after someone that he had once thought of as no more than a friend of Steve’s. But now that man was gone, and so was the one that he used to be. Instead, he was left standing on his own feet, having to find balance by himself somehow.

“Neither did I.” You informed him. “It was like he was pulling back the images of his collapsing country, pouring every ounce of pain and hatred upon me, evading my mind with guilt, and the memories of what it all amounted to. None of it had been worth it, living like this. We’re treated like animals, no longer idols or heroes, people under the big thumb that keeps pressing down on us.”

“Well we’re both pressed down, limited to our rules and the outlines they want us to obey.” He nodded, raising his flesh hand to your collarbone, wanting to mark his touch upon it to remove that of Zemo’s. At his action, your breath hitched, but you allowed him to sweep his pads over the flesh, shuffling indefinitely closer so that you were chest to chest.

“We’re dangerous in their eyes. That’s a mindset they have in common with our prisoner out there.” You whispered, frowning from the thought. Two monarchies, one still whilst the other already fallen, served the same opinions, though, only one could continue to take action. Zemo was a Baron, but of what country now?

Like all, his home had been vanquished into smithereens, the foundations collapsing into rubble, the history disappearing with its lands, having thrown its dusty remnants in your face.

“I’m fine with being considered dangerous so long as I’m not alone.” He pinched your chin, tilting your head, this time though, you felt in his grasp. It didn’t belong to that of an enemy, it was one of an ally, a friend. “Tell me I’m not alone y/n.”

“I’m here James.” You stared up at him with focused pools, biting your lip as your mind went haywire over everything. “The Wakandans will come for him, you do realise that, right?” He hummed in reply, briskly bringing his metal hand to toy with the belt of the white wrap around.

“Do you think that you could show me that I’m not alone?” He nervously asked, shuffling his weight from foot to foot, as he awaited a reply. But instead of words, he earned himself the sensation of your lips upon his, collaborating in a touch starved jumble of grunts. “You’re beautiful, like...”

“Like what Barnes?” You prompted, brushing your palms onto his shoulders, easing his tenseness. Expectedly, you watched him through half lidded eyes as you leant up to plant supple kisses upon his neck, sucking his skin into your mouth, as though you were trying to thread it gently with your teeth.

“A muse.” He sighed, thinking for a momentum, before dragging your hair through his vibranium fist, lightly grinning as he heard your breath wither from the sensation. “A beautiful muse, one that reminds me to be better everyday. I want to become someone better for you.”

“You shouldn’t.” You unlatched your mouth from him, frowning lightly at the brunette man. “You should become better for nobody but yourself Buck, each day, it’s about self growth, fixing everything that you have ever been taught so that you can learn to do better next time, so that no one else will die because of your expense.”

Bucky nodded, allowing your words to sink in. His fingers returned to playing with the waist band on your robe, his eyes gazing into your own, as he fiddled with the material. “Can I?”

“Go ahead.” You granted him permission, allowing him to push the coverage from you, his eyes widening at seeing you in nothing more than your underwear. His sight traced every curve and bump and dip that was upon your shape, licking his dry lips to make his gawking less subtle.

“You’re killing me doll.” He leant his head back, as he raked his contrasting fingertips down your shoulders, all the way to the small of your back. You smirked, grasping him through his jeans, earning yourself a moan from the elder man.

“I said it’s all about self growth, didn’t I? It seems that you are taking that in quite a literal sense.” You rubbed him through the denim, finding it unsurprising as the man backed you towards the bed, your knees hitting the end sending you falling onto the mattress.

Bucky crawled his way atop of you, rutting his hips against your own. It had been so long since he had been permitted to be this free, and he knew for sure, this would be a secret that he would not inform any therapist of. This was private, the sentiment making it close to his weathered heart.

His lips returned to your own, as your hands scaled beneath your shirt, lightly tracing the scars. He wasn’t as insecure as he thought he’d be about someone touching them, perhaps it was because many of your own materialised stories were written in your skin, or that you understood what it meant to be a soldier, serving under orders.

It didn’t matter too much, he wasn’t overthinking it. Instead, he was yearning as he grasped at the straps of your bra, trying to pull it over your head, as was done with the dames back in his day, but the effort seemed more difficult. Lightly leaning away from him, you reached around your back, unclamping the contraption before tossing it out of his sight.

He didn’t care to ask what the modern day had done to the garment, he was far too focused on your pert nipples, and how they stood to attention before him. The super soldier reached forwards, running his smooth hands upon the underneath of your breasts, before interacting with the present buds, softly tugging at them with his whimsical fingers.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Released from you as a sign, instantly becoming pleased as Bucky stripped himself from everything but his underwear, leaving a nest of his clothes upon the wooden floor, as he leant his head down, capturing your left nipple within the warmth of his mouth, moaning lightly as your hands weaved through his locks, tugging lightly at the short roots. “Stop teasing Buck.”

He didn’t miss the way your eyes roll from the slowness of motions, and thus, he reached down, and snapped the band of your underwear, the ripping noise audible, as he then pulled his boxers down, revealing his bobbing cock, that was directing its tip towards your entrance.

With a glance down, he lightly drooled at the way your cunt clenched around nothing, quickly swiping his fingers through your slit, as he brought them up to his lips, humming contently at the flavour that graced his tastebuds. “Need to be in you doll.”

“Need you in me soldier.” You taunted back, digging your knuckles into his shoulders as you pressed him against you, pushing your tongue into his mouth, as he suddenly bottomed out inside of you, waiting for a moment for the pair of you to adjust to the sensations.

He was in you, filling you to the brim, as you tucked your heels into the base of his back, lightly rotating your hips up, as your tongue chased his own, sucking on it as you nipped at the end, causing him to unintentionally jerk his rigid cock into you.

That had prompted him to start moving, screwing his hands into the satin sheets either side of your head, as your bodies succumbed the others to waves of pleasure. It was a luxury, having an outlet to all the stress that your duty brought. If you could just pass the mantle on like Steve had done, and Clint was in the process of doing, you would.

But it was all you had known; the gritty route, that had spanned the entirety of your tale. And Bucky now became a part of it, as he became a part of you, unravelling your vulnerabilities with sleek thrusts into your cunt, and smooth words that had swept you from your feet and had landed you in a bed.

A bed thats structure was creaking from the strength behind the animalistic carnage that you spent on one another. His teeth pulled at your lip, opening your mouth so that you could use him as an oxygen mask. Neither one of you had noticed the door opened, and an unimpressed Sharon standing in the entry way, her agent arms crossed unamused.

She cleared her throat, which made Bucky still inside of you, and you to clutch onto his back, to cover the decency of your chest. “You let me go on the run, then you fuck in my bed. It’s like I’m not allowed to belong anywhere.”

“Sharon-“ she halted your speech by raising a finger, her eyebrows pointedly telling you not to bother trying to speak, as sweat beading down your body. Bucky subtly rolled from atop of you, quickly pulling the sheets over you both, giving Sharon views that she neither wanted nor appreciated.

That was grittiness, she was a hustler, not a once avenger. A part of you wished she would understand that, as much as it would be painful to hear, she hadn’t been the top of anyone’s list. She had disappeared, and from so, she had became unreachable, practically falling off the face of the earth.

But she had been here, in Madripoor, the island of bones and whatever else Zemo had described it to be. “You two fucked in my bed. Okay.” She remained cool headed, her eyes trailing through the various fabrics among her floor. “Thought I’d tell you to get ready, and to blend in, though you two have that part already figured out. There’s some clothes in the wadrobe, and from what I can tell, you’re going to need new underwear.”

She bothered no longer once she had informed you of what she had told the other men. Instead she simply left, only for you to brace your head back into the quality pillows, slumping, and dreading the journey ahead.

Though you seemed restless, Bucky still thought of you as a muse. His hands grasped your chin, leading your lips to his own, as he sucked on your bottom one, his right hand grasping one of your breasts, as he pulled you atop of him, your skin flushed as you steadied your weight over his tough thighs.

“Now this is a dangerous sight.” He clicked his teeth, trailing his large hand down from your jaw, surpassing the middle of your chest, to your hip, which he grasp, as he shuffled you up just a little, so that you were seated upon the base of his cock.

“I can show you dangerous Barnes.” You smirked, adjusting the both of you so you were ready to sink down on his length. Your hands softly stroked his erect shaft, as you tapped his tip upon your pussy, before pushing down, filling yourself up one more.

Madripoor was a bad place, but good things could come out of visiting the skull island. This was the job, though, breaks were prompted, and were you glad that Bucky had became your little bit of calm in the arising trouble in the world.

“Fuck.” He groaned beneath you, his balls clenching as he felt you writhe all the way down to his base, beginning to bounce upon him, the years of training that you had endorsed coming in handy as it had helped your stamina. He was a super soldier after all, you were surely going to need it.

[psychovigilantewrites]

Stay Away

Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd

Genre: Smut

TW: AGE GAP!! PSEUDO-INCEST! PLEASE READ SUMMARY, IVE RECEIVED LOTS OF CRITICISMS FOR THIS FIC SOOOO 

Summary: THIS IS A REPOST SINCE TUMBLR TOOK IT DOWN DUE TO POSSIBLE REPORTS LOLOL 

This fic is about a young Robin!Reader with a much older Jason. Mentions of past sexual abuse. This started out as a drabble lol, I got carried away. Anyway, Hope you enjoy! I love reading comments, so don't be shy!

Edit: Due to this fic being my only controversial one, I’d like to update the warnings by giving a brief description of what happens. Reader is adopted by Bruce at 14, she has a small innocent crush on Jason that isn’t explored until she is older (Jason has ZERO feelings for her at this stage because SHE IS JUST A KID HERE). At 16, she becomes more aggressive in flirting with Jason. At 17 (Gotham’s legal age of consent- I based this on New York’s age of consent), she has oral sex with Jason. At 18, they have sex (Jason is 27).

I wrote this a while back, and now that I’ve learned a few things along the way, I realise that a sexual relationship between a 27 year old and an 18 year old is still highly problematic- even though legal. I do not condone these actions in real life, and I doubt Jason would as well. This is purely fictional, an outlet for my fantasies when I was younger. I still do not believe in creative censorship and I want people to enjoy this fic even if it has no place in the real world. We are all allowed to escape into fiction and our own fantasy and enjoy them privately without guilt. 

“And this is Jason,” Bruce introduced you to him.

Another one?, Jason thought, though he felt slightly guilty for thinking it. He had many problems with Bruce, but deep down he knew that Bruce adopted all of them out of kindness and good intentions.

“Hey,” he grunted, holding out his hand.

You just looked at him with big, frightful eyes, still sticking close to Bruce’s side. You looked young. You couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Your hair was cropped messily short, and it made you look almost like a young boy.

Jason raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand when you didn’t take it.

“Who’s he?” you whispered to Bruce with a soft voice that the average person wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“He, well,” Bruce hesitated, “He’s Red Hood.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

“I decided to tell her everything,” Bruce explained to Jason, “So she can make an informed choice since young.”

“When you’re that young,” Jason glanced at you then back to Bruce, “Anything would sound cool. Even something dangerous that will rob you of your childhood. It’s not an informed choice, you’re basically dangling a cookie in front of her.”

“I’m not young,” you squeaked, “You’re just old.”

Jason scoffed at that.

Though you had voiced out your comeback, you were still shaking in nervousness, refusing to meet his eye.

Jason couldn’t blame you for that. He knew how his eyes looked.

“All of you were younger than her when you chose this life,” Bruce said softly.

“Did we really choose, Bruce?” he argued back.

“I’m not encouraging her,” he defended, “In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. This time, I’m telling her the truth and nothing but the truth. The good, and the ugly.”

Jason saw how you didn’t like the way the conversation was going, talking about you as if you weren’t there. You had a deep frown on your face that made you look older than you were, but also, paradoxically, a cute pout that brought out the child in you.

“Whatever,” he finally shrugged, “Your kid. As if any of us had a say in anything anyway. If this was the only reason why you asked me to come here, I’ll be leaving.”

He turned to leave the manor, to go back to his safe house.

“Good riddance, old man!” you called out after him in a shaky voice.

Jason looked back and raised an eyebrow. You immediately blushed and avoided his eyes. In the back of his head, he thought about how he could recognize your accent anywhere.

***

The next time Jason visited the manor, which was about two months after the initial introduction, he found Bruce training you basic self-defense in the Cave.

Your hair had grown slightly, and you probably fixed the cut to suit your features better.

“What happened to being discouraging?” he said out loud.

You jumped at his voice, but Bruce looked at Jason knowingly.

“It’s just self-defense,” Bruce explained, “Useful regardless of Robin or not. She’s a fast learner.”

Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.

Great, he thought. You weren’t even Robin yet and you already got that Robin complex every one of them seemed to have had.

The constant need for praise and emotional connection from Bruce, as well as a sense of delusional idolization of the man who adopted all of you.

“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.

“Right here, Jay,” Dick’s warm and bright voice came from behind. Jason resisted the urge to jump just like you did.

Dick was already in his Nightwing costume, and walked towards you.

“Hey little sis!” he greeted, arms open. You flung yourself at him for a hug.

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t the two of you live here?” he scoffed.

“Just because you’re emotionally constipated doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” you shot at him.

Jason smirked. You were feisty, yet still wary of him.

He found that adorable.

“She’s right,” Dick chuckled, “You wanted to see me, Jay?”

“Later,” he mumbled, and changed into his alter ego.

Once Jason and Dick were alone on patrol, he brought it up.

“Don’t you disagree with this?”

“With what?”

“Her,” he said, “Or more specifically, him bringing her into all of this.”

“I did at first,” Dick frowned, “But you’ve only met her once, Jay. You don’t live with her. She’s been through a lot, and her being Robin, well, I think it’d be good for her.”

Jason felt his chest tightening. Bruce had always used the excuse that he made all of them into Robin to help channel their emotions into doing good, to prevent them from falling into darkness.

Yet, Jason still did. And he fell right into an abyssal void that he was still trying to get out of.

“Maybe,” Dick continued, “You should get to know her. You’ll see what I’m talking about, and what Bruce sees in her. Tim disagreed at first as well, but after a while, even he warmed up to the idea.”

He frowned at Dick, and then looked away, sighing.

“Whatever.”

***

A month later, Jason had agreed to meet Dick and Tim at a diner.

The food wasn’t that good, and the service average, but it held many memories for him. Dick used to take him there after patrol when he was still Robin. When he went rogue, Dick had brought Tim there. Post-rogue, all three of them would meet up.

He was early, because he was closer. He waited about ten minutes before he saw Tim walking through the door, with Dick behind him. Following Dick, he saw you.

He frowned.

He supposed that he had to get used to you being around, since you were already in the picture.

He didn’t know why he felt like distancing himself from you. With Tim, he had a good reason. A personal reason that he had moved on from.

But you? He had no reason to push you away. Though, Jason had the tendency to push everyone away.

Dick took a seat next to Jason at the booth, and across from him were Tim and you. You were dressed simply in an oversized hoodie he recognized belonged to Dick. It made you seem smaller and younger than you really were. Your hair was in a short bob now. So you were growing it out after all.

Fine. He decided to give you a chance. He had been unfair to you, after all.

“Isn’t a bit too late for you to be out, kid?” he poked at you, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Fuck you, you colossal freak of nature,” you cussed at him.

Jason was taken aback.

And then he started laughing out loud.

You weren’t so bad after all. The shyness and wariness that you displayed the earlier times almost all gone, and then there was that familiar accent that he somehow felt at ease listening to.

Dick let out a loud groan.

“You owe me twenty,” Tim suddenly said to Dick.

“Come on,” Dick addressed you, “I had faith in you! What happened?”

“It’s just in my nature, okay?” you pouted, “I can’t help it.”

Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.

“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.

“I bet ten that the first thing she says to you would be an insult, twenty if she threw in the word ‘fuck’,” Tim grinned.

“And I,” Dick enunciated dramatically, “Thought that she would at least hold it in until after we finished eating.”

“What, you a potty mouth or something?” Jason smirked at you.

“Unless Alfred or Bruce is around,” you grinned.

It was the first time you smiled at him.

“Coward,” he shook his head, “I used to say all sorts of shit even in front of Bruce and Alfred. You gotta step up your game, kid.”

“And Alfred got you bankrupt, didn’t he?” Dick reminded, “You had to put so much of your allowance in the swear jar.”

“I believe in freedom of expression, alright?” Jason huffed, “I had to stand by my principles.”

“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”

“Yes, me, Timbers,” Jason reiterated, “I’m a man of my word. If I’m gonna swear, I’m gonna go all the way.”

“You’re an old man of your word,” Jason heard you mumble.

“I’m only twenty-three, sweetheart,” he responded, “Dick’s the old man here.”

“Am not!” Dick protested.

“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.

“How does that make any sense?” Jason challenged.

“Because Dick doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid,” you shrugged, “He brings me up to his level, so I don’t see him as an old man. You on the other hand…”

“But you are a kid!” Jason argued back, “What are you, twelve?”

“You know for a fact that I’m fourteen!” you growled.

Jason grinned at you, and expected you to continue defending yourself. But for some reason, you just remained silent, and he saw a blush of red settling on your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, kid.”

***

The time that passed between that night and the next time he came back was shorter. He watched you train with Dick, and saw that you had already improved a lot.

He went back, and came back again, three weeks later. Your moves were faster, cleaner, more efficient.

He went back, and came back again, a week later. You landed a blow on Tim.

Soon, he realised that he was looking forward to his visits, because he wanted to see how much you progressed during the short time he was gone- and you never disappointed.

“She must be training nonstop,” he casually said to Tim one night on patrol. Bruce still didn’t allow you out with them yet, because you were still too new.

“Dude, she wakes up at four every morning to train for two hours before going to school,” Tim told him, “After she gets back, she does her homework and studies for a bit, and then trains again for another three hours before going to bed. She’s borderline crazy.”

Jason frowned to himself.

He knew that pattern. Training relentlessly to lose himself in the physical exertion, to feel like he had some sort of power every time he landed a punch, to regain some sort of control.

You were either running away from something, or towards something.

“I never asked,” he started, “But how did he end up adopting her?”

“Uh,” Tim rubbed the back of his head in hesitation, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you. You should ask her yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned, “You mean to tell me that you asked her yourself? Dick or Bruce didn’t tell you?”

“Of course!” Tim grumbled, “We’re friends, Jason. We hang out. We talk. You’re the only one missing from the circle.”

“Fucking whatever.”

***

He really wanted to ask, he really did.

If not out of care, then out of curiosity.

But honestly, a heart to heart talk with another human being? That wasn’t him.

Yet, he really wanted to know.

He had tried to sit down next to you when you were just watching TV alone in the living room, he had tried to knock on your door while you were blasting shitty music out loud. He had even tried to call you up and see if you wanted to meet him for dinner somewhere.

But he never got to it.

In the end, a year had passed since he first met you, and it was your big night. It was your first debut as Robin.

“Stick to at least one of us,” Jason overheard Bruce instruct you in the Cave, “Don’t go off on your own, don’t act first, and always listen to orders.”

“Yes, sir,” you rolled your eyes, then put on your domino mask.

Jason smirked at your attitude. You had come out of your shell and he learned that you were really a feisty, sassy, annoying little brat.

He thought the Robin uniform suited you. It was more modern than his was- the colors more muted- and he saw that you probably had demanded Bruce to include designs of your own. Like how your black cape sort of shimmered in the light, and how there was fucking lace at the lateral sides of your legs.

Your hair was long now.

All of you split up during patrol, and Jason had found himself panting on a roof after taking down a dozen guys who thought it was a good idea to seek revenge for the time he pissed on them from the edge of a building while they were doing a drug exchange.

It had been pretty funny, the way they were so furiously humiliated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a movement. He turned to look at the building from across the street, and saw that you were sitting there on the edge, legs dangling, overlooking the alley below.

He grappled to where you were and silently approached you from behind.

“I thought he told you to stick to someone,” he said.

“Jesus, fuck,” you jumped, “Stop doing that, you asshole.”

“Think of it as training for your ears,” he chuckled, and sat down next to you.

“I was with Bruce, then Dick, then Tim, then I ran away from Tim to find you,” you explained, “Looks like you found me first, though.”

“Why did you want to find me?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged, “It’s my first night. Just wanted to see everyone in action.”

“Well, you missed one big fight,” he said, “Took out a dozen guys in under five minutes.”

“Not bad,” you smirked, “Wish I could have seen it.”

“You will eventually,” he hummed, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, because you obviously have done worse,” you poked.

“Is that why you were so afraid of me in the beginning?” Jason wondered, “Because you knew I killed people?”

“I was never afraid of you,” you frowned, “What gave you that idea?”

“You couldn’t stop shaking the first time I met you,” he reminded.

“Fine,” you conceded, “You looked pretty big and scary. And when Bruce said that you were Red Hood, that shook me up a bit. But it wasn’t because you killed people.”

“That’s a first,” he scoffed.

“But now I know that you’re just a massive prick who pretends to be badass to cover up the fact that you’re just a sad, fragile being- well, it’s hard to be scared.”

“Oh, we’re throwing shade now are we?” he snickered, “What about you and your obsession with training just to compensate for the fact that you feel small and weak inside with no control over your life?”

He had expected you to retort, but you just frowned and looked down towards the alley.

Shit.

Jason always had that problem where he didn’t know when to shut up, or what not say to people. Granted, most of the time he didn’t care if the other party got offended or not.

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

He was just going to open his mouth to apologize until-

“I’ve been here before,” you started, “This alley. A long time ago. My big brother- he dragged me here away from my dad so he could beat me up.”

Jason remained silent in shock.

“Not that my dad was any better,” you added, “I guess my brother was like that to me because my dad was like that to him.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he supposed to comfort you? Or tell you something funny to distract you from the sadness?

Instead, he asked, “What about your mom?”

Jason’s mom had been there, yet not fully there. But when she was, he was grateful at least, to know the warmth of a hug in a run down apartment with no heater during the winter.

“Died giving birth to me,” you explained, “Dad always blamed me for it. He’d tell me that he wished I was never born- that he wished he wore a condom when he fucked mom, that at least if she was alive, he didn’t need to fuck whores.”

“And fuck whores, he did,” you continued bitterly, “But they weren’t enough, I guess. He- he even- I-”

You never finished your sentence, but you didn’t need to. Jason was smart enough to put two and two together.

He felt his blood boil, his rage seeping in. It was like he was that Red Hood again. And for the first time since he came back to Bruce, he didn’t try to push that memory away.

He could go rogue again. Just one more time.

“Where is he- they- where are they now?” Jason managed to grit, tasting blood in his mouth.

“Dead,” you snorted, “Thanks to you.”

“What?”

That took him out of his burning anger.

“Turns out dad was working with Black Mask,” you elaborated, “He dragged my brother with him as well. It’s how he managed to afford all those prostitutes and heroin, I guess. I think they were at one of those shipments you crashed or something back then. You left twenty dead.”

Fuck, he remembered.

Black Mask was at the docks, waiting for a shipment of weapons, drugs, and girls. He remembered feeling frustrated that Black Mask slipped away before he got to him, so he took out his anger on everyone else working with Black Mask.

“Lived in the streets after that,” you continued, “Fend for myself. Cut my hair short so people would think I was a boy. I had to stay tough, you know? When Bruce found me, I was doing an odd job for one of the local gangs. Small one. Was supposed to recruit people my age. Start them young, he said. I guess Bruce had been following me for a bit. He approached me and that scared the shit out of me.”

You paused to smile sadly at the memory.

“But he just asked me for my name, and age,” you stared into space, “And he told me that I could do better than that. That I had potential. He asked me if I wanted to help people rather than drag them into dangerous stuff. And how could I say no? Especially after wishing for so long that someone would come and help me when I was with my dad and brother living in a run down apartment with a leaking roof near Crime Alley.”

You finally looked at him.

Jason was glad that he was wearing a helmet, because he wanted to hide from the stabbing guilt he felt. He didn’t want you to see him that way.

“So you’re right,” your blank white lenses pierced his own, “I train because I want to feel strong, because I’ve felt weak my whole life. I train to feel as if I have control over my own body, my own movements. Hell, even the fact that I grew my hair long gave me a sense of control.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally managed to croak, “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, “Plus, you did me a favour before. I kind of owe you one.”

“Favour?”

“You got rid of my dad for me,” you stood up, “Thanks.”

And for the first time, looking up at you as you were looking down, smiling at him, he didn’t see you as a kid.

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

Jason started dropping by once every two weeks. Sometimes he would even come around twice in a week.

He had warmed up to you after you told him your story, though he was kind of frustrated that Dick, Tim, and Bruce were all right, and he was the wrong one all along because he didn’t know you.

But then, you also started warming up to him.

And that became the major issue.

Since you donned the Robin uniform, your ego had spiked up. Your confidence and arrogance came with every progress you made. A year into Robin, Jason couldn’t see a semblance of that frightened little girl with the short hair, voice shaking as she tried to insult him.

No, now you were just so fucking annoying.

And for some reason, you started to be more aware of your sexuality as your confidence grew.

At the age of 16, you had started coming onto Jason strong.

“Jason,” you pouted at him, “Why don’t you come stay at the Manor anymore?”

“Because you’re there, kid,” he joked, staring at Gotham’s skyline from the rooftop where you, him, and Batman would occasionally stop to catch a breath.

“Jasooon,” you whined, high pitched and long, “I miss spending time with you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, because you were touching his arm, squeezing his biceps. Not that you could see his face, given the helmet he wore. He kind of missed how you were back then. All you had were insults and swear words for him, and you definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”

“He’s always busy,” you huffed, “And when he’s not busy, he’s sleepy. Tim’s boring. You’re more fun, in an assholey cocknose dickweed kind of way.”

Ah, there it was, your colorful language. He had to admit, your creativity impressed him.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he chuckled.

“So why don’t you come over some time and we can have some fun?” you purred seductively.

Jason was taken aback.

He wasn’t sure whether you meant it innocently, or whether you had hidden motives. He glanced at Bruce who was minding his own business, ignoring the two of you.

He didn’t think you would flirt with him in front of Bruce, so he dismissed it and blamed himself for thinking lewd things.

“My idea of fun involves a bottle of whiskey and B-Grade horror movies, kid,” he patted you on the head, “And you’re too young to drink.”

“Hmph,” you slapped his hand away, “That’s not what I was talking about, but whatever.”

You strutted away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t find you attractive, it was that he shouldn’t find you attractive. What was a 16 year old doing flirting with someone his age? Weren’t you supposed to have crushes on the quarterbacks in your school?

Hell, even if you wanted someone who knew of your nighttime activities, there always were the Teen Titans, whom you regularly joined. That Aqualad wasn't a bad kid, but for some reason he didn't like the thought of you dating just yet.

But still, you had no business with someone like Jason. Age wise, or personality wise.

*** Two weeks later, he dropped by again for movie night.

When he walked into the living room, the only person who quirked up when they saw him was you, probably because the rest had already heard him coming.

“Jay!” you squealed, and ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck in a hug.

“Hey- oomph,” he slightly stumbled. It was the first time you hugged him.

And now that you were so close, he was hyper aware of you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top- with no bra. He could smell your vanilla lotion and your chocolate spice shampoo.

He could feel your strong arms, your heavy weight, your burning heat against him.

And for the first time, he actually got turned on by you.

Fuck, he thought. He shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. As if the age difference wasn’t vast already, you were still underaged.

He awkwardly patted you on the back, in an attempt to respond to the hug. He could make out Tim and Dick snickering at him at his obvious discomfort.

“You’ve gained weight,” he gruffed, trying to break the hug because he was dangerously close to popping a boner.

As expected, you let go of him.

“Yeah, I did!” you grinned happily, “I’ve gained about five pounds of muscle mass!”

You started flexing your toned biceps comically.

“Maybe you can gain five pounds of brain mass next time, kid,” he smirked and ruffled your hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a medical condition, you twatwaffle arsebadger,” you shot back at him.

“Jar,” a chorus of lazy mumbles from everyone else rose.

You grumbled and walked towards a coffee table, where a clear mason jar almost filled to the brim with folded notes sat. You shoved in five dollars.

Jason took off his jacket and sat next to Dick on the long sofa. You then hopped towards him and started snuggling next to him.

Jason looked at Dick in question.

Dick merely shrugged.

Jason had a hard time concentrating on the movie that night, because you leaning your head on his chest, and playing with the denim of his jeans absentmindedly.

He wasn’t used to it.

Human contact.

And he knew how you were. You were probably the same with Dick and Tim. You just chose him that night to snuggle up to.

But then you made a comment about how hot the guy in the movie was. Jason didn’t think much of it until you leaned up to press your mouth on his ear and whispered, “Not as hot as you, though.”

That made him jump out of his seat in panic.

Everyone else looked at him suspiciously, but you were just looking at him with a knowing smirk.

“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” he paced in small circles in a washroom down the hall.

He looked at his reflection only to see how red he was at his ears. He gripped the edges of the sink and took deep breaths, trying to play it cool.

Now, it was obvious that you were flirting with him. There was no denying it.

But why on God’s planet were you?

Jason groaned quietly to himself.

Whatever. He thought that you’d probably just drop it eventually.

***

Half a year later, and it didn’t.

And it got bad. Real bad.

Jason still kept visiting regularly, and every single time he did, he would get almost sexually harassed by you.

He was just sitting down in an armchair in the living room, reading a book, when you came along, and with the most arrogant, most entitled smirk, sat on his lap.

“Get off,” he grit, eyes never leaving his book. He was scared of what you were wearing this time.

“But you’re so warm,” you hummed, swinging up your legs across his lap, so that you were being cradled by him and the armchair.

“The fire’s right there,” he pointed to the fireplace, “If you need help, I can throw you in it.”

“I’d rather you throw me in bed,” you purred.

He snapped his book shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.

It was dangerous. Your smell was intoxicating, and you were shifting and shuffling against his front. His mind started to wander, and he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

“But Jasooon,” you whined, “You’re nice and soft.”

He glared at you.

And regretted it.

You were wearing an almost see-through white loose t-shirt that exposed your shoulders. The thin fabric clung onto the curves of your breasts which were- thankfully- covered by a pink bra. You had a pair of satin booty shorts on which hardly covered your ass, which was sitting on top of his crotch.

“Actually, no let me take that back,” you pretended to wonder, “You’re pretty hard.”

And you gave him a wicked grin.

His eyes widen in panic and he stood up suddenly, causing you to fall flat on the floor.

“Fuck!” you cursed, “What's the big deal, jizzcock?”

He left the room and rushed to the toilet. He looked down, and found his penis was normal, flaccid, non-erect, unfilled.

That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.

And he fell for it.

He went to look for Bruce who was in the cave, in front of the computers.

He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.

“Bruce,” he started, “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Bruce asked without sparing a glance at him.

That ticked him off a bit.

“It’s about your daughter.”

Jason saw Bruce pause, and then turned around to finally face him. “What about her?”

“She’s been flirting with me,” he grumbled.

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.

“She’s sixteen, and she’s flirting with a twenty-five year old man!” he complained, “If she’s doing this to me, God knows who else she’s been doing this to!”

“And?” Bruce questioned.

“And? And?” Jason repeated, “And aren’t you worried?”

“She can take care of herself,” Bruce stated, “She’s mature. She won’t let herself be taken advantage of.

“Look, Bruce,” Jason squeezed his temples, “It’s great that you trust her and all that, but don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up? Christ, she’s sixteen!”

“And she’s well aware of that,” he said, “What would you have me do? Do you want me to talk to her?”

“Forget it,” he gave in, and left for his safehouse without saying goodbye to you.

Because that night he laid on his bed in the dark, guiltily thinking about your ass on his dick earlier. But thankfully unlike earlier, he had allowed his cock to fill up.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he thought of that time when you and him went jogging around the manor. You wore just a sports bra that showed off your cleavage, and sports shorts that rode up your ass. He couldn’t resist looking at the way your tits bounce with every step, and when you ran in front of him, his eyes darted down to check out your ass before he realised what he was doing and excused himself.

Excuse himself because he needed to stop looking, to stop thinking.

But now, he let his thoughts free.

He thought about how that one drop of sweat trickled down between the valleys of your breasts, how your muscular back glistened in the sun, how flushed your cheeks were.

He glanced down at his cock, which was already hard and leaking precum onto his stomach, twitching in need of attention.

“Don’t touch it, don’t touch it,” he muttered.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but he could try to resist from touching himself.

He owed you that at the very least.

He gulped loudly.

It really wasn’t fair. You didn’t look sixteen, or act sixteen. You were far mature even at a younger age.

But you were still sixteen.

And it wasn’t fair how you could tease him and get away with it.

“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.

The way you swore sort of turned him on as well, oddly. He loved your use of language, and how dirty your mouth was.

How even dirtier your mouth would be if he shoved his cock in-

“No,” he whined, and he touched his cock.

He stroked it once, twice, three times, and then he came hard, long ribbons splashing onto his chest.

“I am a jizzcock,” he whispered to himself in shame, and then cleaned himself up.

***

Three months later, Jason had just come back from a mission in Mexico. Throughout his trip, he’d been bombarded with texts from you.

The topics spanned from the usual banter about training, Dick, and how you’ve been annoying Alfred with “ok, boomer” memes, to you sending him mirror selfies of yourself in fitting rooms trying out clothes that made Jason almost drool and you attempting to flirt with him.

Jason responded normally to the former, but sent short uninterested texts to the latter.

But when he came back to his safe house, he found his spare handgun on his bed- which was not where he last put it. On it, was a sticky note with a written message:

Try not to lick. R.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. R must have stood for Robin, and then suddenly Jason gulped, wondering what the fuck you had done to his gun.

He opened his phone to check his conversation with you, only to find that you had sent him a ten-minute length video.

His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.

The video started with a closeup of your face in an awkward position, setting what Jason presumed to be your phone, on a surface with an angle you had in mind. Jason looked behind him and saw that his chair had been placed right in front of his bed, where you must have put the phone on.

“Fuck,” Jason realised. He did not like where this was going.

Or did he?

In the video, you then strolled to his bed, fingers touching his sheets. You were wearing nothing but a white flowy sundress that Jason thought made your skin look absolutely radiant. But instead of sitting on his bed, you had gone out of the frame, and then came back with the gun.

He swallowed hard.

You sat on the edge of the bed with a naughty glint in your eye. And then, you started to caress yourself sensually, squeezing your breasts as you made your way down to between your legs.

Jason realised he had started sweating and panting, getting aroused as his cock slowly started to fill out.

You spread your legs and dipped your hand beneath your dress, but Jason still couldn’t see anything because you had taken the fabric and hid what was going on under. He saw your mouth fall open and you let out a long, loud moan.

“Jason.”

Jason’s breath stuttered. His cock was aching in his jeans, begging to be touched.

Your hands were working underneath the fabric, teasing Jason with only an idea of what you were doing.

“I’m so wet, Jay,” you purred at the camera.

And then, your other hand went to take the gun.

You brought it up to your lips and flattened your tongue against the gun and licked all the way to the muzzle. Even in the low quality, he could see your saliva wetting his gun. Then, you gave him a wink and brought the gun to where your other hand was, between your legs.

Jason stopped the video then and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose at an attempt to calm himself down. Once he did have a semblance of control, which took almost five minutes of just trying to steady his breathing, he opened his eyes and dialled your number.

“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.

“What the fuck?!” he roared, “How the fuck did you get into my safehouse? Hell, how did you even know where it was?!”

“Oh, Jason, please,” he could hear you roll yours eyes, “You’re overreacting.”

“Over-?” he growled, “Overreacting?! You came into my house and then started to- started to-”

“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.

His dick twitched.

“You need to stop this, kid,” he tried to bring his rage in, “Stop it, before you regret it.”

“Or what?” you teased, “What would you do to me, Jason? Spank me?”

He couldn’t. Jason just couldn’t with you. So he ended the call and threw his phone across the room.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and buried his face in his palms. His cock was still aching, and he was dying to touch it.

He glanced at the gun next to him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and then unbuttoned his jeans, letting out a hiss of relief when he could finally take it out.

He started to furiously stroke his cock, just staring at the gun laying there. He wanted to smell it. He wanted to lick it. He wanted to see if he could still taste you on the metal.

“God fucking dammit,” he cursed, and then he came in pulses.

*** “What’s up, fucktrumpet?” you poked.

Jason let out a long and heavy breath from his nose, the sound becoming static as it went through the voice scrambler of his helmet.

It was a week later, and Jason had joined patrol with you, Bruce and Tim.

“Fuck off, kid,” he walked away from you, pretending to be looking out for something from the ledge of the roof.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, coming closer to him anyway. “You enjoyed it.”

“Tim,” Jason turned away to approach the younger man, “How’s things?”

“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.

“Leave me out of whatever this is,” Tim sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Pfft, you’re always in the mood for me, Timbers,” Jason nudged his side with his elbow.

“No, she’s always in the mood for you,” he pointed to you, “For some reason.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for her,” he grit.

“Meanie,” you pouted, “All I’ve ever been is nice to you, Jay. And what do you do? Act like an absolute thundercunt.”

He wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t. He had to keep up his appearances.

“Listen here, you brat,” Jason finally turned to you and poked your shoulder hard with his finger, making you wince. “You stay the fuck away from me.”

“Hey, Jay,” Tim suddenly interrupted, “You don’t need to do that, man.”

“This little bitch broke into my house and started defiling my things, Tim,” he growled, “Yes, I need to do that.”

“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.

You let out a soft giggle.

“Forget it,” Jason threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll patrol alone.”

Jason saw the slight disappointment in your eyes when he left which made him feel a little guilty, but he ignored it.

Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.

***

Another half a year went by, and Jason found himself at the Manor for Dick’s barbecue and pool party. He was already dreading it, because he knew you would be up to no fucking good, especially when you had the excuse to wear a bikini in front of him.

He had contemplated about not going, but Roy was going to be there, and Roy was making him go.

The first person Jason looked out for was you, because he had to be on his guard. He was standing at the glass sliding door of the manor that opened to the pool to survey the crowd. He spotted you in the pool, laughing at who he assumed was Aqualad- Jason didn't bother to learn his name- wearing a dark red bikini top that fixated behind your neck.

“Jaybird! You made it!” Roy’s voice boomed all the way from the other side of the pool and came running to where Jason was standing awkwardly.

He knew many of Dick's friends, but he was never particularly close to any of them besides Roy and Kori. Now that Kori was gone, Roy was all he had left.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled back.

“Aw, come on,” Roy groaned, “You came to a pool party in a t-shirt and jeans? Seriously?”

“I wasn't planning on swimming,” he shrugged.

Roy was sporting a horrible bright yellow swimming shorts with green palm leaves.

“Well, I was, so I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded and decided to head to the pool chairs and put on his sunglasses. He even brought a book to bury his nose into to avoid social interaction.

He heard a splash of water and from the corner of his eye, saw you coming towards him.

“Don’t even,” he snapped at you before you could get a word out.

“I wasn't even going to do anything, fucking dipshit,” you shot back.

Jason forced his eyes back to his book to avoid getting caught looking at how the water trickled down your glistening skin that looked oh so soft-

“What do you want then?” he huffed, turning a page.

“Well,” you began, taking a seat on the pool chair where Jason's feet were, “I was going to ask you about Roy.”

Jason glared at you, peeking from the top of his book.

“What about Roy?”

“You guys are close, right?” you hummed.

“I guess so.”

“Like, best friends?”

“What are we, twelve?” he scoffed, “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“Well, since you're close to Roy,” you started, “I was wondering if you knew his type.”

“His type?”

“Yeah, like what kind of girls does he like?” you grinned.

“Ones who aren't underaged,” Jason growled.

“Jason I'm already seventeen,” you reminded, “Which is the legal age of consent in Gotham.”

“It doesn't matter,” he grumbled, “He's older than me, which makes him way too old for you. Forget it.”

You pouted, and then stood up. He had to redirect his gaze back to his book.

“It’s like you don't even know me, Jaybird,” you snickered, and with a flip of your wet hair which splashed droplets of water onto him, you strutted away.

He was gritting his jaw so hard he could feel his teeth ache.

Fuck, why can't you just stop?

“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered to himself and left for the kitchen where he rummaged through the refrigerator to find a stout.

He popped open the bottle cap on the marble edge of the kitchen island.

“Alfred would kill you if he saw you do that,” a voice laughed.

Jason rolled his eyes at Dick, who was sipping on a can of beer behind him. “I’ve gotten in trouble for worse.”

“God, I forget how similar you guys are,” he leaned against the counter.

“Who?”

“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.

“We’re not the same,” he denied, heading back outside.

“No, she deals with her issues better than you did,” Dick followed him, “As a matter of fact, you're still dealing.”

“Get to the point, Grayson,” he snapped.

“The point is, she’s not a kid, Jason,” Dick told him, “Why don't you give her a chance?”

Jason stopped in his tracks, standing still before exiting through the glass door. It was quieter inside the manor.

“A chance for what?” he grit.

“To prove herself to you,” Dick explained, “I've noticed how you treat her, Jay. Tim as well. It's like you're trying to push her away. Why? You don't think she's good enough?”

“Holy shit,” Jason started laughing humourlessly, “You think this is about me simply not liking her? You guys think I'm just being angsty?”

“Isn't it?” Dick cocked his head to the side.

“She's been fucking flirting with me, Grayson,” Jason said.

“Okay, I get that, but she sort of flirts with everyone,” he shrugged.

“She comes and sit on my lap, whispers stupid shit in my ear, sends me pictures of herself trying on revealing clothes, makes vulgar motions with her hands, fucking tries to seduce me,” he listed down, “Don't tell me she does that with everyone.”

“Okay, maybe not,” the older man frowned.

“Let me tell you, then,” Jason walked closer to Dick, “She broke into my fucking house, sat on my fucking bed, and started recording herself on her phone, and then sent the video to me.”

“Wait, what?” Dick sputtered, “Recording herself doing what?”

“You fucking know what,” he stated.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dick ran a finger through his hair, “Wow, she's ballsy.”

“That's your reaction?” Jason scoffed, “She's ballsy?”

“I mean-”

“She's sexually harassing me, Grayson!” he argued.

“But,” Dick began, “What did you really think about it? I mean, really?”

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

“Did you watch it?” Dick persisted. “The video?”

“What- I- no, I just-” Jason spluttered, caught off guard.

“You can't lie to me, Jason,” Dick gave him a mischievous smile, “You like her, too. That's why you're pushing her away. Because you don't think you're good enough for her.”

Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.

“She's too young for me,” Jason simply stated.

“Well, apparently not too young for Roy,” Dick smirked.

“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.

You were in the pool, standing in the corner. You had a hand on Roy’s chest, looking up at him and laughing. He had a hand on your waist, and was whispering something into your ear.

Jason went into a fit of rage when he saw Roy touching you.

“Mother fucker,” Jason swore, and without thinking, went straight to where you were. He stood there at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, and looking down at the two of you who were both unaware of his presence.

“Roy,” Jason growled.

Roy jumped and looked at Jason in panic, and as if you electrocuted him, immediately jumped away from your touch.

“H-hey, Jaybird,” he awkwardly laughed, “I was just- I was- uh- I was telling her about what a great friend you were.”

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” he nodded vigorously, “Jason here is super good with his aim as well. Could even rival mine.”

Jason ignored Roy, and glared at you, who was looking up at him with obviously fake innocent eyes.

“Out,” he commanded.

“What?”

“I said out,” he repeated. “Out of the pool. I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, come on, Jason,” you started to whine, but then stopped when you saw his expression.

You climbed out of the pool, and again, Jason had to avert his eyes. Without sparing a glance at you, he gripped you by the arm and pulled you to go inside.

“Ow! Jason, let go, fucking cocksucker!” you cried.

He snatched a towel from Tim’s grip as he walked, ignoring Tim’s protests and stares from others, and then threw it on top of your head.

“Ugh- Jason!” you complained. He continued to lead you inside the manor, up the stairs, and to his old room.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

“What's the big deal, you shitpouch?! Who do you fucking think you are? Fucking cumwipe, pisswizard, cuntpuddle...”

That wasn't the end of your swearing. You went on for another good minute of words that could make Batman blush, before stopping.

You were fuming. Your face red, your expression twisted into a scowl, water dripping all over the wooden floors, the fluffy towel around your neck that you hadn't used.

God, you were so hot when you were angry.

“You done?” he deadpanned. He sensed that you were going to go into another stream of name calling, so he cut you off.

“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.

“And since when have I ever done what you told me to do?” you shot at him

You had a point.

“Look, kid-”

“I'm not a fucking kid, Jason!” you yelled at him for the first time, “I haven't been a kid since my dad- since I was twelve!”

Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.

“I know you've been through shit,” Jason acknowledged, “What happened with your dad and your brother- I’m fucking glad I killed them. And even if I hadn’t back then, I would have broken every single rule and hunt them down and make them suffer before ending their lives after finding out what they did to you. Hell, before you told me that they were dead, I was already ready to turn every single rock to find them.”

Your expression softened at that.

“And I know you had to grow up fast,” he continued, “All of us who lived there did. But you're out of that now. You don't have to fucking try so hard to act older than you are anymore.”

Your eyes shone with anger once more.

“That's the thing you never got, Jason,” you spat, “I'm not trying. I never did. This is who I am.”

You were looking at him with such fierce intensity that Jason almost forgot how to breathe.

Because you were right. He had gone through the same process where he was made to grow up fast, where he couldn’t afford to act like a kid.

He looked at you, trying not to show much emotion on his face.

Somehow in the heat of the argument and you yelling cusses at him, the two of you had gotten closer to each other, and Jason could even see the tears brimming in your eyes that were threatening to spill.

He immediately felt like a piece of shit, like every word you called him. He never wanted to hurt you.

“Whatever,” Jason huffed, looking away to avoid your glare, “Just stay away from Roy.”

“Why, you two dating or something?” you smirked.

He simply glared at you. You obviously had recovered from your anger and was now back to your usual snarky self.

“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Jason objected, “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because,” you drawled, walking closer to him, “You like me.”

Jason had backed up each time you walked to him, and before he knew it his back was hitting the door.

Fuck, he hated how much you affected him. You had him backed up against the fucking door, for fuck’s sake.

To get a semblance of power back, he stared at you straight in the eye, unblinking, and leaned closer to you.

“You wish,” he said coldly.

He noticed that your breath stuttered, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.

Then, he leaned back and smirked.

“Oh, no you don't,” you shook your head, “You think you can win this game, Todd?”

“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”

“But yes you are, Jay,” you placed your palms flat on his chest, “You’ve been playing hard to get with me.”

“Playing hard to get is only used when the other person actually wants you,” he scoffed.

He didn't know why, but he was sweating. His respiratory rate had gone up, and shit.

Shit.

He could feel his dick getting filled up.

Maybe it was how close you were to him, maybe it was the fact that you were half naked in front of him with all the privacy he could have asked for.

Maybe it was the fact that it was you who had him in a corner instead of the other way round.

“I'm not a fucking idiot, Jay. Batman trained me, too. I've seen how you look at me and I’ve seen how you tried not to.”

Fuck.

“Your pupils dilate, your breathing gets faster, you start to sweat,” you went on, “And then suddenly you excuse yourself. You run away.”

Your hands went up to his shoulders, and your body was now against his, getting his clothes wet. He could smell the chlorine on you when you leaned into his ear and whispered.

“You fucking coward,” you breathed.

Jason's breath hitched and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his palms against the door behind him to restrain himself from touching you, grabbing you, squeezing you, slapping you.

Jason knew he was fully hard now, because it was getting painful.

Suddenly, the pressure and heat of your body against his own disappeared. He opened his eyes.

But sucked in a breath when he saw that you were on your knees in front of him, eye level to his crotch, the tent in his pants mere inches away from your lips.

“What the fuck are you- mmpf,” he threw his head back, hitting the door.

You had gripped his shaft hard, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body.

No. Jason had to stop this. He couldn't go through with this. He shouldn't.

“You want me to suck your cock, Jay?” You purred.

Jason swallowed hard, just trying his best to restrain himself.

He remained silent for a beat. And then-

“Do whatever you want,” he managed to choke out.

You showed him a winning grin, and then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling down his jeans.

You started to mouth his length through the fabric of his boxers, getting it translucent with your spit. He had never been so horny in his entire life.

As much as Jason’s head was screaming at him, telling him to stop you, telling him how inappropriate it was, he didn’t have the strength to voice it out.

He wanted to tell you to stop teasing him, to hurry up and put your mouth around his cock already, but again, it was like he had lost his voice.

He was utterly conflicted, so he opt to just stay silent.

You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs and then pulled it down, revealing his cock to you. He hissed slightly at the relief.

Jason wanted to remember your expression the minute you saw his cock forever, he wanted to burn it in his brain and immortalize it. Your eyes had gone rounder, your mouth popped open with a gasp, and your excitement grew.

“It’s everything that I’ve dreamed about and more,” you fluttered your eyes dramatically before gripping his shaft and licking one long, steady stripe from the base to his tip.

Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.

You licked him again, and again, and then started to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tracing your tongue around the sulcus underneath his head.

Fuck, you were so fucking good at teasing him, and making him squirm.

He looked down at you, and you were looking up through your long lashes, eyes almost innocent. And then, you took him in his mouth, going all the way down.

“Fuck,” Jason gasped.

You immediately built a rhythm, the most perfect rhythm that he liked. It was suspicious how you knew his preference, and at the back of his head he made a mental reminder to check his room for hidden cameras.

You provided him with the right amount of tongue, the right amount of suction, the right amount of teeth gently grazing him from time to time that he swore could have drove him insane.

Your mouth was soft, and warm, and wet, and before he knew it, he was ready to fucking explode.

As if you were familiar with his expressions, you picked up the pace and started sucking even harder each time you bobbed your head. Jason felt his balls tighten, the heat spreading to his toes and making them tingle.

“Fuck- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” he rasped.

And then he released with sudden explosion into your mouth, going through a sensory overdrive because as he was releasing, he could still feel you sucking him dry and swallowing.

When he was done, you released his cock with a pop and a grin.

Jason had to catch his breath for a while, because it was the best head he had ever received in his entire life, and he had managed to keep his hands off you the entire time.

“You made me jealous on purpose,” he panted.

“Duh,” you stood up after politely zipping him back up, putting your hands on your waist so fucking proudly, like a power stance.

“Where the hell did you learn how to suck cock that good?” he interrogated.

“You’ve lived in Titans Tower before,” you winked, “You should know.”

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that statement and implication one bit.

“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”

“This can’t happen again?” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. “Typical. Just get over yourself already, Jason. It gets tiring.”

“I’m no good for you,” he avoided your eyes.

“You say that right after coming into my mouth,” you scoffed, “Sure.”

He clenched his jaw. You were right. He was trash for doing that to you, defiling you like that.

Jason must have let his emotions leak, because you suddenly added, “What I meant was, we’ve already crossed that line. We don’t have to go back to how it was before. I like you, Jason. And I know you like me, too.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “This was a mistake. We can’t do this again. I’m sorry. Just stay away from me.”

He left.

***

He had avoided you for a long time after that.

Months went by, and he ignored your texts and your calls. Even the knockings outside his door. He had made sure to upgrade his security, with both Tim and Roy’s help so you couldn’t break in again.

When he went on patrols with everyone else, he made sure you couldn’t catch him alone, so he arrived at the very latest, and left at the very soonest, never exchanging more than a few words with you.

And every time, it killed him. He saw the hurt flash in your eyes every time he left quickly, he noticed that you had texted him less and less as the months went on, and eventually came to a complete stop.

You had even stopped calling him those weird, creative swear names that he loved so much.

Jason finally won. He had managed to get you to give up on him.

But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.

Eight months had passed by, and he was getting ready for the event he had absolutely been dreading. It was your 18th birthday party that Bruce had used as an excuse to host a charity gala at the manor.

Jason thought it was a dick move for him to take advantage of your birthday for the sake of his own gain, but apparently you had been more than supportive over it, understanding Bruce’s position as one of Gotham’s elite.

He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t bear to face you again where you could pull him somewhere private to talk to him. But Dick and Tim had convinced him.

It was your birthday after all.

When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.

Well, he was wearing just a leather jacket over a black shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans after all.

“You couldn’t have dressed for the occasion, Jason?” he heard Tim approach him from behind.

Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.

“Couldn’t be bothered,” he shrugged, “What’s the agenda?”

“Mingling, dinner, speeches, more mingling,” Tim listed down, “Typical charity ball. The others are at the tents. We should get going.”

“I’m the dead son, remember?” he pointed out, “I don’t need to sit with you guys.”

“We’ll introduce you as Dick’s boyfriend or something, come on,” Tim gestured.

“Oh, the media would love that,” Jason muttered under his breath and went along.

The banquet area was set outside in the backyard of the Manor, where tents with clear plastic canopies were propped up, decorated with fairy lights. Since it was spring, the weather was cool enough for suits and warm enough for strapless dresses.

The main tent had a stage where a band was playing classical music- typical tunes you would hear at any other fucking gala.

Each table seated ten, and Tim had brought Jason to a table closest to the stage where he saw Dick, Bruce, and you were already seated with four others. He recognized the Mayor, the Commissioner, Lucius Fox, and a middle aged woman with greying hair he didn’t recognize with who Jason presumed was her husband.

Jason avoided looking at you, but he knew that you were staring right at him. Tim took a seat, and Jason cursed softly when he realised that the only other seat available was in between you and Dick.

Looking straight ahead, he calmly sat down. From the corner of his eye and from a portion of what he could make out, he saw that you were wearing a midnight blue dress, and a silver bracelet around your wrist which you rested on the table.

Bruce had started to converse with the guests, and Dick and Tim were having a banter amongst themselves.

“Hey,” he heard your voice.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” you replied.

And that was that. The two of you remained silent, with Jason occasionally checking his phone and still avoiding looking at you.

“It’s time for our speech,” Jason heard Bruce whisper to you.

He heard you get up and shuffled to the stage. He was hardly paying attention during Bruce’s welcome speech.

“...and then, the woman of the hour, my lovely daughter,” Bruce introduced you. The audience broke out in applause. Jason still hadn’t turned your way.

“Hello, everyone,” he heard your uncharacteristically nervous and shy voice over the sound system. He took a sip of wine. “T-thank coming for you all- uh- I mean-”

The audience laughed, but not in mockery. Jason couldn’t help but look at you now.

He accidentally inhaled his wine, and ended up trying to cover his coughing fits.

Up on stage, where the spotlight was on you, he had noticed your midnight blue dress had small sparkling stars on them, making you seem like you were wearing the clear night sky. Your hair was done in a simple graceful updo, which exposed your neck that he noticed was flushed, a blush creeping up to your cheeks at your own embarrassment.

Your eyes were wide in panic, and you kept on playing with your thumbs subconsciously.

His breath stuttered, because he thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on.

You were usually so snarky, so full of confidence, and wit with a mouth that could make a sailor blush- but there you were spluttering all over the microphone, a blushing mess. And hell, did that make Jason’s chest tighten in yearning for you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to crowds like my father is,” you tried to laugh it off, “Here, let’s try again.”

Despite your fumbles, you had a certain charm on stage that made everyone just like you.

“Thank you all for coming to my eighteenth birthday party,” you started, “I must admit, at first I wanted my party to be small and intimate. But I realised that this celebration could be used for something good instead.”

Another round of claps.

“I come from a very… humbling area in Gotham. I’m sure we’re all familiar with Crime Alley,” you stated, confidence growing as you got used to being on stage, “It was hard, living as a child in the streets. But I got lucky. Bruce Wayne found me.”

“Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne has taught me a lot about understanding and acknowledging my own privilege and using it to help others. Growing up there, myself and many other children were faced with the harsh reality of poverty and abandonment. Therefore, I would like to announce that I have started a foundation called Wayne’s Foundation for Children of Hope, where all proceeds will go to the development of Crime Alley.”

You paused and smiled at the flashing cameras of the media and waited for the applause to die down.

“Our first initiative is to build a home for lost children aged eighteen and under, to provide shelter, basic healthcare, food, and education. The primary goal of these shelters is to help kids find a place where they belong, and to help set them back on the right track. These kids also have the option to maintain anonymity for cases that involve abusive environments.”

Jason was looking at you in awe. You were standing proudly at the podium, graceful in your posture, a fierce intensity in your eyes- all previous nervousness completely gone.

Next to him, Dick leaned in and whispered, “It was all her idea, you know. Every single plan for this foundation, even the future plans she hadn’t mentioned. All hers.”

Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.

“But the truth is,” you smiled sadly, “It’s still not enough. The situation in a lot of areas in Gotham is painfully swept under the rug. But hopefully with this, people like us can make things a little better for them. If you’d like to donate to the foundation, it would mean a lot to me, and to the other kids who had to grow up too fast.”

You made eye contact with Jason at that last statement, causing his heart to suddenly drum faster.

The crowd broke in a loud applause and you thanked them graciously, waving as you stepped down from the podium to take your seat.

This time, Jason didn’t take his eyes off you.

“That was great!” Tim gave you a thumbs up, “You did great!”

“Well done,” Dick grinned.

Jason took your hand and gave it a little squeeze, just smiling at you in silence. You looked at him with obvious shock, and then grinned back.

“Beautiful, Ms. Wayne,” the Mayor sitting across from you beamed, “You’ve taken after your father’s charms.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” you nodded, “But I’d like to think that my charms are my own.”

Jason had to bite back a laugh when he saw the man turn red.

He was somehow more relaxed now, even sparing occasional glances at you as you conversed with others. The dance floor was now open, and the guests had left their seats to mingle with others. The MC also announced that the bar was open.

“That’s my cue,” Jason winked at you, and then went straight to the bar to get himself something strong. From there, he just leaned back and watched how the disgustingly rich people made themselves feel better about themselves by donating the occasional couple of million dollars. Soon enough, he got sick of the pearls and diamond earrings, the solid gold watches.

He checked his own battered and scratched Swiss Army watch he had lifted from a drug lord many years ago. He should be going back soon. It wasn’t like he was needed there anyway. He had already wished you and made peace.

“What do you think?” he heard your voice approach him.

He turned and saw you come up next to him.

“Too fancy for my taste,” he started, “Looks like it took you a whole hour just to get into the damn thing. And those shoes? Looks like the crowbar was less painful than walking around in that.”

It took you a couple of seconds before realising that he was talking about your outfit.

“I meant the foundation, you fucknugget,” you hissed.

“Be careful there, sweetheart,” he raised an eyebrow, “Don’t want these people hearing you speak like that. You’ll lose your charm.”

“I don’t know how Bruce does it,” you shook your head, “It’s so exhausting.”

Jason hummed back at you as a comfortable silence fell. The two of you leaning back against the bar and just watching the crowd.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you pursed your lips, “I kept on thinking of you, you know? When we were coming up with the plans. Was wondering what you would think of it.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m the only one from there.”

“Well, you’re the only one who would understand,” you explained, “The others, of course they empathized. But they wouldn’t understand. Not like how you and I do.”

And Jason realised that it was that factor that probably drew you close to him when you first came to them, the fact that Jason understood at more than just a superficial level how shit your life was before coming to the manor. It was a painful past that only the two of you shared, and only the two of you could talk about.

Silence fell again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.

“For what?” he frowned.

“For making you uncomfortable for so long,” you whispered, “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I liked your reactions. And I guess I just wanted your attention. And during that pool party- I- I thought-”

Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Nevermind,” you looked away, “Forget it. I just wanted to say sorry. I crossed the line. After you stopped talking to me, I just. I don’t want that. So I’ll stop, okay? You don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

He turned around to face you.

“I stopped talking to you not because I was mad at you,” he told you, “I stopped talking to you because I was mad at myself.”

You faced him with curious eyes.

“I thought- well- fuck,” it was Jason’s turn to splutter. He took a deep breath and started again. “I thought that it was a real shit move for me to do what I did to you.”

“Wait, what?” you questioned, “What you did to me?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “You know. That.”

“Jason, I was the one who practically jumped you,” you scoffed, “I basically forced it on you. Why are you blaming yourself?”

“Force me? Pfftsh, you couldn’t force me to do anything.”

“Jason.”

“I liked it, okay?” he threw his arms up, “I didn’t stop you because I liked it, and I shouldn’t have liked it. I was taking advantage of you. It was wrong of me to do so.”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid,” you laughed, “I’ve been pining over you since Bruce told me you were… You know who.”

You lowered your voice.

“Want to talk inside?” he offered.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

The two of you made your way past the garden and into the manor.

“Is it okay for the birthday girl to disappear from her own party?” he smirked when he closed the door to Bruce’s study, which was the nearest room that offered privacy.

“Oh, please,” you waved your hand and sat on Bruce’s desk, “The whole party was never about me. I’m just another excuse for those cuntflaps to show off their new diamonds.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, you were saying? Something about Bruce telling me I was Red Hood?”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “I’ve had a crush on you since then.”

“Really?”

Jason knew that you obviously had a crush on him, especially because of the neverending teasing and seductions, but he didn’t know it stemmed from that long ago.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I remember thinking to myself, like wow. This is the guy who killed them. And you know what? You looked exactly like how I thought you would.”

“What? How so?”

“Huge,” you started, “Scars everywhere. Grouchy as hell.”

“I’m not as grouchy as Bruce,” he defended himself.

“Still,” you chuckled, “You looked exactly like how I imagined my hero to look.”

“Super hot, sexy, and good looking?” he joked.

He had expected you to roll your eyes and throw an insult at him, but you just tightened your lips and looked away.

“Look, k- sweetheart,” he stopped himself from calling you a kid. From what he saw on the stage earlier, you were already so much better than he was. “I’m going to be honest, alright? And you better damn well appreciate it, because I’m never honest.”

You giggled softly. He walked to stand in front of you at the desk.

“I think you’re great,” he stated, “And I think you’re beautiful, and sexy. And…”

He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.

Fuck it. He might as well.

“And I like you,” he forced out, “More than you know. Fuck, I like you. I like you so much it fucking hurts sometimes.”

You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.

“But I’m no good for you,” he repeated what he said all those months ago, “I can never do what you just did. Start a fucking charity on your birthday and announce it to the world as if it was nothing. Fuck, I don’t think I should even be seen walking around next to you when you look like that. I’m a fucking mess, sweetie. You don’t want that.”

He saw as you digest what he had just said. Then, you looked up at him and asked, “What do you think I want?”

“What do I think?” he repeated.

You nodded.

“I think you should be with someone who’s closer to your age, for one,” he rolled his eyes, “And someone who doesn’t have scars all over their face. Someone who isn’t grouchy. Someone charming who can stand next to you on stage wearing a proper suit and tie.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, “I should be with someone like that.”

Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.

“But I don’t want to be with someone like that,” you continued, “I want to be with someone who was ready to hunt down and hurt the people who terrorized me for years. I want to be with someone whose face is littered with scars as proof that they went through just as much shit as I did and survived.”

You hopped from the desk and stood up straight, stretching your hand up to cup Jason’s face. He leaned into the warmth of your caress, his breath hitching at the close contact. His hands automatically went to rest on your waist, still respectfully high.

“I want you, Jason,” you whispered, pulling him down to your lips, “I want someone who can handle my bites.”

To demonstrate, you sucked in his lower lip, eliciting a low moan from him.

And then you bit down hard.

He gasped at the stinging pain, and then sighed when you massaged his lip with yours. Heat suddenly spread throughout his body, particularly at his member which was growing hard fast. He could smell the wine on your breath that you must have snuck a few sips from, the vanilla lotion you always wore, and a new particularly enticing perfume that you must have gotten for the occasion.

“I want someone who can call me a little bitch straight to my face,” Jason felt you grin against his lips.

The two of you were kissing now, harsh and forceful, as if deprived of touch. Fuck, he loved how you were nipping at his lips and his tongue, tugging his hair lightly.

Both of you gasped for air, and just stood there foreheads against each other, his erection pressed against your stomach, your hands around his neck.

“I want someone who is resourceful enough to enhance his home security to make sure I don’t break in and fuck myself with his weapons again,” you chuckled.

“Was it…” he started, “Was it loaded?”

“You bet it was,” you smiled.

“Fuck,” he swore and then crashed his lips against yours again. He lifted you up to sit on the desk, and then stood in between your open thighs. At the slightly elevated level, he could properly grind his erection against your pussy, still covered by your dress.

“You liked that?” you giggled, “I thought you weren’t into that. I got a bit worried.”

“Hell yeah, I liked that,” he rasped, “What kind of sane man wouldn’t?”

He started to nibble on the skin on your neck, sucking and biting and licking

“I’m pretty sure not everyone is into the thought of fucking a loaded gun into a pussy,” you laughed, “Which proves my point. You and me? We’re perfect, Jay- fuck, don’t leave any marks, dumbass.”

“Point taken, baby.”

“Mmm, call me that again,” you moaned.

He stopped nibbling on your neck, brought his eyes to yours, and with a defiant smirk, he said, “No.”

It was like Jason saw the switch in you flick on, because you suddenly pushed him away aggressively. He stumbled, not expecting it.

“Oh, you think you’re in control, Todd?” you purred, twisting your fists in his leather jacket. You were shorter than him, and your frame much smaller. But Jason just loved the authority that radiated from you.

“You think you’re the one who has power over me?” you drawled, pulling him to the side where Bruce had set up a leather sofa and a coffee table.

“When all this while, I’m the one who had you wrapped around my finger?” you snarled, and then pushed him down on the sofa.

Before Jason could even register what was happening, you were already on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, the pressure of your weight on his crotch making him pant with want.

“So are you going to call me baby again?” you asked sweetly, tugging at his jacket to remove it.

“Maybe in due time,” he gasped when you bit the flesh that connected his neck and shoulder hard.

Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.

You took off his shirt and ran your hand down his body. Jason smirked when he saw you bite your lip as you took in his figure.

He still had a bit of fight left in him, and he wasn’t going to beg.

Yet.

“Why must you be so stubborn, Todd?” you breathed, teeth catching at his earlobe and biting. You were rocking your hips against his erection, and he swore that if you didn’t take it out, he was going to rip a hole in his pants with it.

“H-hey, you’ve always been the pushy one,” he stuttered.

“That’s because I like to get what I want,” you pinched his nipples hard.

“Fuck!” he yelped at the sudden pain, and then glared at you as you just grinned cheekily. “I don’t know why I never took you for a sadist before this.”

“Because you’re an idiot, Jay,” you teased, “All I did was torture you.”

“Yes, you did,” he rested his hands on your hips, motioning for you to grind on him harder, “You made me so fucking hard on purpose, and then I had to go back and jerk off to you, which made it worse because I felt so fucking guilty after.”

“That was your own fault,” you frowned. You were finally, finally unbuckling his belt. “You saw me as a kid when I wasn’t.”

“You were still underaged, you brat,” he laughed, “It didn’t matter if you were wise beyond your years- ah, fuck yeah.”

You had finally unzipped him, releasing him from the constraints of his denim.

“Take everything off for me, Jay,” you demanded, sitting up on your knees to give him room to do so.

He listened to you happily, glad to be rid of his clothes. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, already leaking so much precum.

“Why am I the only one naked?” he voiced out his displeasure.

“Because it took me twenty minutes to get into this dress, and I’m not undressing for anyone before the night is over,” you announced.

“But, baby,” he pouted, rejoicing at how he made your breath hitch, and rested his chin between your breasts, “I want to see your tits.”

You frowned and bit your lip as you looked down at him, considering his plea. He made a mental reminder that you must like dirty talk.

“Then make sure you don’t go home so early tonight,” you managed to choke out.

Jason thought that you also must have liked to be the submissive one, as well.

You leaned into him and kissed him again, this time less rough. He moaned into your mouth, slipping his tongue in as he grabbed your hips and tried to rub his cock against your pussy, underneath your dress. He gasped when he felt that you were already bare, and leaking.

“What happened to your- your panties?” he rasped.

“Long gone,” you winked.

“Fuck, you fucking nymph,” he chuckled, and then groaned when you started to slide the head of his cock between your wet lips.

“Jason, I’ve wanted your cock so bad,” you muttered into his ear as you rubbed your slick all over his length, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fucked myself with- with whatever I could find, pretending it was you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Your dirty mouth was doing so many things to him, he was worried that he was going to come right there and then.

“After that time I sucked you off?” you continued, “All I wanted was to choke on it, Jay. I just want your dick in my throat.”

You lifted your hips and sank down onto him. Both of you groaned lowly in pleasure. Fuck, you were so tight, and warm, and wet, and oh so soft.

“Ah! Jason!” you cried out when he bottomed out, “Fuck, I’m going to feel you for fucking days.”

“Shit, baby,” he choked, “Baby, please. Please, move.”

“You want me to move?” you teased.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“How would you like me to move, Jay?” you smiled.

“Any- I don’t care-”

“Nice, and slow like this?” you lifted your hips up, and Jason could feel the torturously slow drag of your walls against his shaft, even as you sanked back down you were slow.

“Hnng- fuck-” Jason mewled, lost for words. “Please.”

It was all he could say.

“Or hard and fast like this?” you slammed your hips down, and started bouncing on his cock at a brutal pace that knocked his breath out.

“Fuck!” he yelled, “Fuck, baby, fuck!”

You weren’t being any softer as well. Through tear-filled hazy eyes, Jason saw your eyes fluttered close in pleasure, your mouth falling open as you cried out wanton moans, and gasped, and groaned for him.

“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He gripped your hips hard, and then started to fuck himself up into you, matching your pace, making you fucking scream.

He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, the same time you started whining, “Jason, Jason, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he gasped.

“Come inside me, Jason, please!” you sobbed.

“But-”

“Just- just- please, please, please,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

Jason felt your pussy clench tight onto him, triggering his own orgasm. He released inside you while still fucking you hard, trying to prolong both of your highs.

Soon, he was oversensitive, the feeling of your walls almost painful. You calmed down, still panting above him, and he just couldn’t help but stare at you in amazement.

“Holy shit,” you giggled above him, “Holy shit, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Uh- I,” he panicked, “I came inside of you, fuck!”

“I’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you smiled, “Fuck, I just. I just wanted to walk around after this with my panties soaked in your cum.”

“How the fuck are you eighteen and already so fucking kinky,” he groaned.

You only laughed and slowly lifted yourself off of him. He hissed at the movement, feeling hypersensitive at every touch.

You went to look for your panties, which Jason noticed were a lacy black, and then put them on under your dress.

He was still sprawled out on the sofa naked, sweaty, and well spent.

“I also didn’t want any of your spunk to get on my dress,” you told him.

“S’pretty dress,” he mumbled back to you.

“You should get dressed, Jay,” you walked towards him, hands on your hips.

“Do I need to get back out there?” he complained, “Can’t I just wait in your room?”

“If you get dressed and attend the party, I’ll let you fuck me with one of your guns,” you promised.

“Really?” his eyes widen, and then he jumped back up to put on his clothes.

“I gotta tell you something, though,” you started.

“What is it?” he hummed, tucking his black shirt into his jeans.

“The safety was on,” you said, “On the gun, I mean. It was loaded, but the safety was on.”

“Oh, baby,” he looked at you seriously, “If you told me the safety was off, I would have shot you myself for being so stupid.”

You giggled.

He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall,” you took it. “By the way.”

“What?”

“Are you going to switch back to a more lax security?”

“And have you breaking in again? You wish, kid.”

[sonianvmd]

thh characters with a crush on you

warnings: none, maybe some swearing but otherwise nothing major

oH and mentions of murder and death but this is danganronpa so im going to assume u expected as much

a/n: so we kickin this blog off with a bang, writing for LITERALLY THE ENTIRE TRIGGER HAPPY HAVOC CAST LMFAOAOAOAO (excluding hifumi, yasuhiro, and the two despairs doe bc i’ve already made that clear)

also some character’s sections are shorter than others im sorry i just couldnt think of as many bullet points for them *tiktok cry emoji*

edit: I FORGOT CELSESTE FU K SORRY

spoilers under the cut!!

★ 彡 ★ ミ ★ 彡 ★ ミ ★

makoto naegi

when he realizes he likes you, he doesn’t necessarily panic or anything, but he does get nervous

nervous around you, that is

y’all saw how he was with sayaka

if he says anything that might sound intimate then he’ll immediately rephrase it or reassure he didn’t mean anything by it

he really only does have good intentions but his wording just kinda flops sometimes

he appreciates how you listen to him and value what he says

you don't make him feel dumb or inferior compared to a bunch of ultimates with actual talents

he’ll muster up the courage to tell you eventually

let’s hope his luck comes through 😁

byakuya togami

now when THIS man realizes he likes you, he a bitch nigga bout it 😐

he can't believe he fell for a common plebeian such as you

but it was hard not to

the way you preferred to get to the point

the way you were aware of your situation and didn't sugarcoat how you felt about it, although you certainly were nicer with it than him

he's ruthless

anyways

you knew your priorities and spent no time trying to use your resources

he noticed how much you had in common; in you, he saw himself

and we all know how this mf feels about himself 😐

he’ll be quick to defend you in class trials

he won’t realize he’s doing it but he just subconsciously protects you

but just because he doesn't notice it, don't mean the rest of the class brushes past it as well

yeah they on his ass LMFAOO

kyoko kirigiri

kyoko is very good at keeping her composure so she won’t be very obvious

she’ll probably just hang around you more

she’ll also defend you in class trials, calmly

“oh, it couldn’t have been [name]. i remember seeing them in their dorm around the time the murder took place.”

hifumi probably finna say some dumb shit like “aye what was you doin in their dorm doe” but anyways

she finds you respectable

if you have anything to contribute, she’ll let you take the floor

when she tells you, she’s very composed, but also very indirect LMFAO

she’s not too sure on how to express her interest in you but maybe she’ll go about it like “well, [name], now we’ve made it here, would you like to step back into the world with me?” or somethin else along those lines idk

take her hand

pls

toko fukawa

y’all know her whole “master togami” shtick

yeah so 😁😁😁😁

no but fr, toko ofc still has her borderline stalkerish 🧍🏾‍♀️ tendencies

she’ll often find herself staring at you, either in the library or in the morning meetings everyday at breakfast

but she isn’t as straight forward as she is with byakuya

i actually think she’d be mad shy and non confrontational

the whole thing she kept up with him ? yeah, never again

if you approach her first then she’ll be able to get a few words out but for most of the conversation, she’ll just nervously play with her braids

you’ll most likely put two and two together

unless ur a makoto kinnie bc then you’ll have to wait till someone else puts it in place for u but anyways

if you decide to approach her about it, you’ll kinda be backing her into a corner bc she’s just bad at deflecting things lmao

she’ll eventually confess (begrudgingly but hey i mean its better than nothing)

expect much stuttering and a gesture like giving you a small gift

and not to be that writer that uses japanese terms in english writing but toko seems like a tsundere but not really if that makes sense?? so she’d probably shove it in your hands and if you try to say something then she’ll just try to play it off as not a big deal lol

calls u a baka 😍😍

aoi asahina

i know y’all all see how she is with sakura

yeah.

aoi is the kind of person who’d like to spend time with their crush rather than shy away from them

she values you and your friendship very much

bring her donuts

just trust me bring her donuts

she doesn’t really realize she’s into you like that for a while but believe me, she is, the whole time

and yeah i think she’d be nervous to tell you bc that’s just natural but ultimately she’d be cool about it

uh oh looks like we goin for a swim

sakura ogami

similar to kyoko, she’s very calm

despite her big and bad appearance, she really is a sweet girl

she cares for you and your well-being very much

will indeed go on x games mode for you

the way she tells you is very sincere and well spoken

kith her

naow

im sorry this is like the shortest one i couldn’t think of much for her 😔😔

leon kuwata

flirtatious ass mf

and he’s lightskin

so this just cannot go well

y’all know that bit where it’s like the guy yawns and stretches his arms up and then wraps one around your shoulder

yeah that’s literally him LMFAOO

he’s very confident

he was fairly well known with the ladies at his old school so you know he’s rhockin wit it ‼️

but

you feel.. different than usual ??

those girls were just lil flings n dates bc he was nice enough to accept their confessions and it boosted his ego anyway so it was a win win

but you

he was genuinely interested in you since he had saw you the first time

he didn’t just acknowledge your appearance

he learnt about your personality and your hobbies and what you liked and such, and he really cared and wanted to hear you talk about it all

he felt the need to really make an effort to show you how much he respected and had affections for you

he doesn't tell you in a grand way

probably just asks you out to a movie or somethin

he's chillin

mondo owada

you know

for being the biggest, baddest, most respected biker gang leader

or just for being in a biker gang period

mondo’s a huge softie lol

yeah he gets violent but he’s a sweet guy who cares about and is loyal to his friends

so mfs need to be nice to you

or they gettin whooped

when he decides it’s time to tell you how he feels, he thinks over his words and he’s all confident there’s no way you’d reject him but then he sees you in the halls and goes 🧍🏾 LMFAOOO

he’ll push through but it’s like he’ll walk up to you and look away from you because he refuses eye contact and just go

“so y/n, would you wanna.. tch.. come to a drive-in movie with me or somethin’?... dumbass.”

real smooth mondo i think you got em good job

please tease him LMFAOO it’d be so funny

he’d probably yell but you can tell he’s not mad so you just keep going with it

but once you’re done tormenting him, you do agree to the movie, don’t worry 🙏🏾

also mondo would call his s/o doll

that is all

chihiro fujisaki

my fav dude in a dress <3

chihiro would be quite shy, but that’s just how he is tbh so no surprise there

he’s very kind so he’d check up on you often just to see how you are

he cares about you v much

the way he confesses is one that consists of a red face as he offers you a box of candy or something similar

and he’d feel honored that you reciprocate his feelings

he’d be very scared to tell you his secret but once he does, he’s delighted to hear it doesn’t make any difference to you

he doesn’t know how he got so lucky with you

not only because woooo they like me back but also because you like him despite,, well everything about him LMFAOO

sweet lil boy

i’d feel like he’d talk about you to alter ego a lot

and when u meet the program for the first time, he’s like “oh! you must be [name]! master’s told me all about you :)”

sobbing i miss him

kiyotaka ishimaru

okay here’s the thing

if taka were to like someone

i can’t tell whether he’d be more strict because he doesn’t want them to get in trouble (and also so it would hopefully divert any suspicion that he DOES like you since he treats you the same as everyone else, only more)

or if he’d hold back more because he favors them LMFAOO

so imma write a lil bit for both

in the case that he was even stricter:

he’d prefer to be around you because he believes the best way he can make sure you stay out of trouble is to make sure you don’t get into any in the first place

of course it’s impossible to monitor you every second of every day but he does his best to make sure you’re doing well

if he sees you do anything out of line, he’s shutting that shit down IMMEDIATELY

but in the case he let up:

he’d still lecture you but noticeably less than the other students

if your feet were resting on top of a desk, he’d ask you to move them and then leave you alone rather than yell at you and forcibly move them himself

if you notice his behavior towards you in comparison to the other students do not tease him about it he will go as red as his eyes /hj

either way he’s confessing to you with a polite but exaggerated bow while holding out a well thought out letter with both hands

sayaka maizono

she will tell you

idk why but i feel like she’d be straight up lol

she’d make sure she’s sincere

she is the ultimate pop idol and all so she wants to make sure you know that she really does like you and isn’t playing a sick joke on you or anything

ok bc

while i do think she’d tell you

i’d feel like she’d be a little indirect just to see how you feel

like she’d give you a free ticket to one of her upcoming concerts with a kind smile

and naturally, you're like :o

and of course you come to support her

and seeing you smile at her from the crowd and cheer her on was the encouragement she needed to push her to ask you out

for real this time

she asks if you wanna come to a concert with her and ur like “oh yeah i love ur shows!!” bc ur dumb and then she’s like “no i mean.. for another artist” and eventually it hits you that she’s asking you out and ur like “oH YEAH YEAH SURE THAT SOUNDS GREAT YEAH OK” LMFAOO

———

i really hope that this is good LMFAOO this is my first time writing for dr so 😃👍🏾

fun fact i finished toko’s section first and taka’s last 😁😁

and i’d like to thank @mius-imagination @bloodygir n the rest of the discord for helping me figure some of these characters out *simultaneously whips and nae naes*

bye ive been working on this for like weeks this took forever

———

edit: here’s a deleted section bc i kept blanking for this character 😍

[alisonsfics]

an actual hero

pairing: bucky barnes x reader (little bit of biker!bucky)

summary: you’ve been john walker’s girlfriend since high school. he’s the only man you’ve ever loved, but that may change when a certain serum causes him to risk your life.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: tfatws spoilers, violence, choking (in a violent, not sexual manner), concussion, passing out, john walker going on a rampage

You saw the news and you were instantly worried. There was a big fight going down with the Flag-smashers. Then you saw him.

John.

Your boyfriend since high school.

Your second half.

He was there, fighting against the Flag-smashers. You both had butted heads over the Flag-smashers issue. You agreed with their goals, but just thought they were approaching it the wrong way. John disagreed. He hated them, truly hated them.

You didn’t blame him after what happened to Lemar, but you had never seen this kind of rage in him. He was consumed by it. You assumed that Lemar’s death and the pressure to be a good Captain America were taking a toll on him.

You knew you had to stop him. The news showed him fighting with the kind of rage that made your skin crawl. You knew you had stop him before he made an irreversible mistake.

You raced down there as fast as you could. You found John instantly. He grabbed one of the Flag-smashers by the neck and held them up against the wall. His feet dangled helplessly below them. John held him up in the air with virtually no effort. He seemed strong, too strong.

“John! You have to stop this” you yelled at him, trying to deescalate the situation. He was shocked to hear your voice. He dropped his grip and turned to face you.

By now, you had gained the attention of Sam and Bucky, who were confused about the mysterious woman who had just appeared.

You hoped he would turn to see you and recognize that he had gone too far. Instead, you only saw anger in his eyes when he looked at you. The Flag-smasher ran away from John, past you. “You’re letting him get away” John said, trying to run past you.

You stepped into his path, putting your hands on his chest. “Please, John. You’re taking this too far” you begged him to stop. You didn’t see any sign of hesitance in his eyes before he shoved you into the road.

You fell to your knees on the rough pavement. You could already tell that you had cut up your hands as you tried to soften your fall. You quickly stood up, not wanting to be in the road when a car drove by.

You still had Bucky’s attention. He was still confused about how you knew John. Him and Sam both watched as you picked yourself up off the ground.

Then, you were blinded by a pair of headlights. One of the armored trucks was coming straight for you. You froze.

You felt every muscle in your body go still. You fought to get your legs to move, so you could run away. Your body stayed firm in its place.

“She’s not moving” Bucky mumbled, before running towards you. His whole body slammed into you, as he pushed you out of the street. You got the wind knocked out of you, and you landed flat on your back on the hard concrete.

Bucky came crashing down on top of you. It took you a few seconds to realize what had just happened. Your senses were on overdrive.

You looked at the unfamiliar man above you who was staring straight back at you. You knew him from the news, but you had never met him. “Are you okay?” He asked you, carefully. You were still in shock, so you nodded your head.

“You just saved my life” you said, breathlessly. He just gave you a small smile, before rolling himself off of you. He winced and got up on his feet. You felt him grab your hands as he helped you stand up.

You felt light-headed as soon as you stood up; you felt a throbbing pain in the back of your head. “Wait...my head kind of—” you started to say before you blacked out.

Bucky panicked as he watched you start to go limp. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, holding you up. He swept his arm under your legs, picking you up bridal style.

When you opened your eyes again, you realized you were on a stretcher inside of an ambulance. You looked around, trying to take in your surroundings.

The ambulance wasn’t moving, and the back doors were open. You saw a paramedic sitting next to you; they were taking notes on a clipboard. Then, you saw Bucky on your other side. He wore a concerned expression.

“You’re awake” he said, softly as his eyes met yours. He seemed slightly less concerned. “I don’t understand. What happened?” You asked, confused.

He noticed your panicked look and took your hand in his. “Do you remember the truck in the street?” He asked you, slowly. You nodded your head, bits and pieces starting to come back to you. “When I pushed you out of the way, you hit your head on the sidewalk. You got a concussion, and then you passed out” he told you.

His thumb subconsciously started to rub back and forth on the back of your hand. Both your eyes went to your hand in his, but neither of you made an effort to move your hands away.

The paramedic turned her attention towards you. “I completed a test, and you’re fine. You have a concussion. Just make sure you get some rest and drink lots of water. You’re good to go” she told you, giving you a polite smile.

“Here let me help” Bucky said, helping you sit up on the stretcher. He kept his hands on yours as you carefully stepped out of the ambulance. “I’m Bucky, by the way” he said, smiling at you.

You felt a school-girl smile appear on your face. “I’m Y/N. Thanks for saving my life” you said, bashfully. Then, another man walked up towards the two of you. You recognized him as Sam.

“Y/N, this is Sam” Bucky said, introducing the two of you. You smiled at him and shook his hand. “Are you okay? I saw Walker push you in the way of that truck. How do you know him anyway?” Sam asked you, curiously.

You noticed he was wearing his Captain America suit. You had only ever seen him in the Falcon suit before. You wouldn’t have admitted it out loud, but you knew he was a better fit for the job than John.

“I’m fine; it’s just a concussion. John is my boyfriend or was my boyfriend. Risking my life might just be a small dealbreaker” you joked, trying to lighten the situation. In reality, you wanted to punch John in the face. You had stood my his side for years, and this is how he repaid you.

They both lightly chuckled at your joke. Then, as if on cue, John came marching over. “There you are. We’re going home” he said, grabbing your arm. You struggled to pull your arm away. He had always been strong, but he was stronger now.

“Get your hands off of me” you said, trying to pull your arm out of his grasp. Within a second, Bucky had pried John’s fingers off of you. “She told you to keep your hands to yourself” Bucky said, bending his fingers backwards until he winced.

Then, he finally let go. He put his hand on your forearm. “You okay?” He asked you, softly. You just nodded your head, too scared to say a word in front of John.

“What the hell is going on here? You think you can just swoop in and steal my girl?” John asked, starting to walk towards you and Bucky. Sam quickly got between John and you.

“We fought you once, and you lost. You want to try again?” Sam taunted. John crossed his arms. “This is between me and my girlfriend” he snarled.

Bucky also shielded you from John. “I’m pretty sure that girls don’t stay with boyfriends who almost get them killed” Bucky said, keeping one hand on yours.

You felt safe behind Bucky. You had just met him, but he was very protective. You knew that he wouldn’t let John anywhere near you.

John huffed, his telltale sign that he was giving up. He walked away from the three of you. “Why did you ever stay with a guy like that? He’s kind of awful” Sam asked you. You shook your head. “He didn’t use to be like that. He used to care” you told them, watching as John walked away.

“Why is he...so strong?” You asked, barely able to find the words. It was the thing you had been struggling with since you saw him fighting that Flag-smasher. Something didn’t feel right. “They took a blood sample and found out he took the serum” Bucky told you.

You were stunned. “Like the super-soldier serum?” You asked, still in shock. They both nodded.

You scoffed to yourself. “He used to talk about much he hated super soldiers. He said real heroes didn’t need a special potion to make them strong” you said, only now seeing his hypocritical nature.

“You should get some rest. Do you need a ride?” Bucky offered. You ignored the smirk that Sam sent his way. “That would be great” you said, smiling.

Bucky hugged Sam and then walked past him. “The suit looks great, Cap” you said, as you walked past him. Bucky led you over to a motorcycle.

“Why am I not surprised?” You asked, giggling. He turned around to face you, and pretended to be offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, smirking at you. You shrugged. “You have the whole biker aesthetic: the leather jacket, the boots, the withering stare” you teased.

He chuckled as he picked the helmet up off the seat. “Here. No more concussions” he said, tightening the strap once he put it on your head. You told him the name of your apartment building. He nodded before you even told him the address.

“I grew up in Brooklyn. I know where it is” he said, getting on his bike. He patted the seat behind him and you swung your leg over the back. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his waist, and rested your head on his back.

He turned on the ignition, and it roared to life. You gave him a thumbs up to tell him you were ready. Soon, you were driving down the streets of Brooklyn.

You expected it to be fast and daring, but instead, it was peaceful. You watched the city whipping past you: the taxi cabs, the street performers, and the illuminated billboards.

He pulled up to your apartment in a matter of minutes. He helped you off the bike and took the helmet off your head. You shoved your hands in your pockets because you didn’t really know what else to do with them.

“Thank you—for everything, I mean” you said, shyly. Bucky hesitated. You could tell he wanted to say something, but you couldn’t tell what it was.

He fiddled with the straps of his leather jacket, nervously toying with them. “I know we just met, but would you like go get dinner sometime?” Bucky asked you. The smile on your face grew ten times bigger. “I’d really like that” you said, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss.

He was shocked, but eventually kissed you back. He lips tasted like cinnamon. You could feel him smiling as you kissed him. His fingers hooked in your belt loops and pulled you closer to him.

You both pulled away with smiles on your face. He gave you a small piece of paper with his phone number on it.

As he drove away on his motorcycle with you waving from the sidewalk, he couldn’t help but want to thank Dr. Raynor for encouraging him to let people into his life.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @azghedaheda @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @bookfrog242 @sunwardsss @studentville-struggles @impossibleapricotlampbat @infjkiki @weirdfishy @lickmymelaninn @hailey-a-s @andreasworlsboring101 @glassesandthunderthighs @holding-on-to-my-youth @fanofalltheficsx @lukes-orange-beanie @golden-hoax @mostly-marvel-musings @madisondelstan @spookyparadisesheep @v-is-obsessive @i-wish-i-knew-what-i-was @reniescarlett @multiplums @alotofrandomfangirling @bbl32 @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan @mylifeiscrazy0423 @spid3rgwen @velyssaraptor @supernaturaldisco @bucnananbitch @shyconversationalbookworm @ivegotparticulartaste @chauntaayyy @vicmc624

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

Requests OPEN

[betweenthescarletmoon]

Encanto MBTI!

So I'm no expert and I literally read the functions for fun more than actual passionate belief, so feel free to disagree! In fact, I'd love y'all to reblog and say your theories of their personality types, bc it's obvious that we'll interpret the very short amount of screentime for most characters differently. Anyway here we go!

Mirabel: ENFP-A (Ne, Fi, Te, Si)

Bruno: INFP-T (Fi, Ne, Si, Te)

Alma: ESTJ-T (Te, Si, Ne, Fi)

Pepa: ENTJ-T (Te, Ni, Se, Fi)

Julieta: ISFJ-A (Si, Fe, Ti, Ne)

Luisa: ISTJ-T (Si, Te, Fi, Ne)

Isabela: ISFP-T (Fi, Se, Ni, Te)

Antonio: INFP-T (Fi, Ne, Si, Te)

Dolores: INFJ-T (Ni, Fe, Ti, Se)

Camilo: ESTP-T (Se, Ti, Fe, Ni)

Félix: ESFP-A (Se, Fi, Te, Ni)

Agustín: ISFJ-A (Si, Fe, Ti, Ne)

Mariano: INFP-A (Fi, Ne, Si, Te)

Guide For Beginners!

Mind: I - Introvert vs. E - Extrovert

Energy: N - Intuitive vs. S - Sensing/Observing

Nature: T - Thinking vs. F - Feeling

Tactics: J - Judging vs. P - Prospecting

Identity: A - Assertive vs. T - Turbulent

Definitions based on 16 Personalities (I'm lazy)

Introverted individuals prefer solitary activities and get exhausted by social interaction. They tend to be quite sensitive to external stimulation (e.g. sound, sight or smell) in general.

Extraverted individuals prefer group activities and get energized by social interaction. They tend to be more enthusiastic and more easily excited than Introverts.

Intuitive individuals are very imaginative, open-minded and curious. They prefer novelty over stability and focus on hidden meanings and future possibilities.

Observant individuals are highly practical, pragmatic and down-to-earth. They tend to have strong habits and focus on what is happening or has already happened.

Thinking individuals focus on objectivity and rationality, prioritizing logic over emotions. They tend to hide their feelings and see efficiency as more important than cooperation.

Feeling individuals are sensitive and emotionally expressive. They are more empathic and less competitive than Thinking types, and focus on social harmony and cooperation.

Judging individuals are decisive, thorough and highly organized. They value clarity, predictability and closure, preferring structure and planning to spontaneity.

Prospecting individuals are very good at improvising and spotting opportunities. They tend to be flexible, relaxed nonconformists who prefer keeping their options open.

Assertive (-A) individuals are self-assured, even-tempered and resistant to stress. They refuse to worry too much and do not push themselves too hard when it comes to achieving goals.

Turbulent (-T) individuals are self-conscious and sensitive to stress. They are likely to experience a wide range of emotions and to be success-driven, perfectionistic and eager to improve.

(notice how literally everyone except Julieta, Mirabel — and I'm not even certain over whether she is assertive or turbulent here — and literally the men that come in Julieta, Pepa, and Dolores' lives are assertive 😀 the perfectionism and heavy stress in this family yo)

Cognitive Functions!

Developed by Carl Jung. I'll be quoting Well + Good here

Fi: Introverted Feeling - concerned with authenticity, individualism and values. Introverted feelers know what they believe, have a strong sense of self, and can easily identify their personal experience of emotion. They are often outspoken activists, and love to help those in need. They don’t have stronger feelings than others who utilize this function, but they do have more mastery over them and can put them toward change—of self, of others, of society.

Fe: Extroverted Feeling - concerned with harmony, bringing people together, and caring. Extroverted feelers are great at reading the emotions of others; they are big empathizers, absorbing the feelings of others around them to the point that they sometimes cannot tell which feelings are their own. They easily squash and step around conflicts, and they are typically very social.

Ti: Introverted Thinking - function that seeks to understand personal ideas using a deeply specified framework. Introverted thinkers are constantly mining their own thoughts in an attempt to be rational and reasonable, slowly ruling out other ideas before coming to their own firm conclusions (and they’re often guarded about how they got to these conclusions).

Te: Extroverted Thinking - outwardly conveying thoughts using logic, reason, and analysis. Extroverted thinkers are clear and concise, direct, and unmoved by emotional appeals. They are often strong orators and writers, who have thoughtful, well-researched arguments and theories. Extroverted thinkers like to convince people of their thoughts and implement new ideas.

Si: Introverted Sensing - understanding the world through past precedent and experience. People who are introverted sensors thrive using routine, tradition, organization, and rules. They are often very attuned to their bodies, and have specific ways of doing things that work for them in order to get the job done. They are responsible, reliable, and cautious.

Se: Extroverted Sensing - using taste, touch, smell, sound, movement and sight to easily absorb information in the physical world. As strongly observant, these people pick up on details other people do not notice, and some even have a photographic memory. They love excitement, spontaneity, new experiences, and material goods.

Ni: Introverted Intuition - described as “knowing without knowing how,” as well as “thinking without thinking.” It’s the most mystical of all the MBTI functions. People with this function tend to reach conclusions without having a clear idea as to how they got there. They are wise, convicted, and always have a plan to work toward a bigger picture and seek to build and understand complex systems. Introverted intuitives are always processing in the background, and regularly have “a-ha!” realizations when answers simply come out of nowhere.

Ne: Extroverted Intuition - noticing patterns, symbols, and connections in the world that others may not see. Extroverted intuitives live for possibility, often expressing themselves through a tumble of ideas, or a constant external brainstorm. They may talk about many things they want to do, but not ultimately follow through. For them, it’s all part of the process to get to the best idea.

[softyoongiionly]

Portraits of a Tiger - The Finale

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst, not intended to be a historical au. 

Word Count: 28k

Warnings: depictions of violence, death, blood, choking, mentions of battle, heavy angst (happy endings only), LONGING, explicit language, mentions of grief, mentions of loss, mentions of insecurity, explicit smut: scratching, biting, lovebites, unprotected sex. 

A/N: welp :( This is the end for now folks. I can’t believe I finally finished a series on this freakin’ blog lol. I am so incredibly grateful for your patience. I truly hope you enjoy it and if you do, I would love to hear from you. Whilst this is the end of the series, I wouldn’t be surprised if I wrote drabbles for it in the future so, if there is anything you’d like to see more of, please let me know :D

A few thank you notes to my sisters from across the globe @yoonia​ and @randombtsprincessa​, the two of you are so important to me and, I am forever grateful for your friendship. I love you lots. 

To @kithtaehyung @missgeniality​ @noelleydances​ thank you for always hyping me up and, being willing to chat with silly ol me. You’re all amazing and I LOVE YOU ALOT.

To @gldnrecs LISTEN IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW, LAY. I am so thankful you and, your willingness to scream with me in my dms. I’m so honored to know you and, I hope you know that I am always here if you need anything. ALSO HAPPY COLLEGE GRADUATION YOU FREAKING GENIUS. Please consider this (and Hobi’s conclusion specifically) my graduation present. Love you. 

Love letter to Rachel: It’s very important for anyone who comes across this story to know that I would have NEVER EVER EVER be able to conjure up this universe without the help of my bestie @bulletproofbirdy​. My friend, you are a genius and, it has truly been such an honor designing this world with you. I am so grateful that I’ve been able to create something with someone as amazing as you but, ON TOP OF IT??? We became so close that we literally talk every single day. I don’t know what to say without being the mushiest person ever but, I just want to thank you for being you. Without your love, your support and your BIG BRAIN, I would have never finished this series. I hope it lives up to all of your expectations. I love you. 

The clouds hung in the air with a heaviness that was almost palpable. Storm season was looming over the horizon and, although you’re aware that the rain is more than overdue, you still feel a sense of doom clinging to your subconscious. This time of year, arrives like clockwork and your village is well-equipped to deal with all the rainfall, the thunder, the lightening...

But there was always a chance that the river would flood and thus there was always a chance for tragedy to strike; a chance for everything you’ve ever known to be swallowed whole. You know you can’t stop a flood. The water operates on its own axis, untethered by human convenience. It terrifies you yes but, you’re fascinated none the less.

With a deep sigh, you step away from the edge of the river. The soft bubbling of the water is intriguing you, eliciting a yearning within you to step inside just one last time. However, you know the bite of the water would be too much to handle on your bare feet and you really don’t want to catch a cold before the winter season has even started.

Turning around, the breath you are preparing to take gets lodged deep in the center of your throat. It’s Yoongi and he’s reaching out for you but the look of pain on his face alerts you that something is horribly wrong.

“Y/n...” He croaks, his eyes wide with fear as he reaches out to you and it’s then that you see the blood dripping from his fingers. Your eyes frantically travel down his figure before realizing the source of the blood.

A wound similar to that of a sword brandishes his lower stomach, staining his tunic and causing the bile in your stomach to swirl uncomfortably.

He’s hurt.

He’s hurt badly.

“Yoongi!” You cry to him, your heartbeat rising to a level that feels painful.

As you try to run to him however, he falls to his knees, the life sparking in his eyes one last time before he collapses.

The scream coming from your lips is unrecognizable but, thankfully it draws you upright in your bed, informing you that horrible scene you just witnessed, was only a dream.

You clutch your hand to your chest, breathing heavily, your eyes stinging as they well up with tears. Without thinking, you sob into the clasped hand over your lips, trying your best to calm down but the morbid images continue to assault your mind over and over.

The light streaming in through your window, informs you that the sun has risen. At least your nightmare had allowed you to sleep a full night before rudely interrupting. You swallow back another sob, forcing a deep breath through your nose while you remind yourself that Yoongi is ok.

But you can’t know that for sure, can you?

The small break in your logic is enough to make you rush out of bed and into your coat, not bothering to fix your appearance as you shove your feet into your shoes. Thankfully, your parents are still sleeping soundly in their beds when you bustle through the main room and towards the door.

You have to see for yourself; even a glimpse of him could loosen the grip that fear currently has on your mind. You take the back way to avoid the marketplace which already shows signs of coming to life. You would need to make it quick to avoid missing the morning crowd: that’s usually where most of your sale’s come from.

With everything in you, you hope that he’s already awake because if he isn’t, you’d just have to move on without the reassurance, which is what you should do anyway, but you can’t bring yourself to let it go.

Thankfully, Yoongi is awake and by the looks of it, he’s out with the new recruits, running drills in the grass right in front of their camp. You see Jungkook out there as well, assisting one of the men with his form as he brandishes a sword.

The sight floods your mind with images of your dream once again, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

He’s ok though, so regardless of the images, you feel content seeing him in good health. Logically, you know you need to go about your day and allow him to go about his but, as you move to turn back towards the village- he notices you.

At first, a smile passes over his lips almost involuntarily but, his keen observation skills notice something is array. You see him gesture to his men to continue before he starts making his way in your direction.

Embarrassment washes over you without any warning and you try and wave him off, reassuring him that everything is ok, but he ignores it and jogs over anyway.

“Good morning-” He murmurs, his hands reaching out for yours. As he laces his fingers between your own, he tilts his head, “Are you ok?”

Instinctively, you nod but when you open your mouth to say something, nothing comes out.

Glancing up towards his face, your eyes pass over the area your mind brandished with blood and, without thinking, you throw your arms around him.

Yoongi is a little taken aback but he reciprocates nonetheless, his arms encircling you and pressing you against his chest. You feel a sigh of relief leave your lips as you cling to his robe, breathing in the subtle scent of him.

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

The whisper of your voice sends an aching into his chest and although you don’t disclose exactly what happened, Yoongi trusts that you had a valid reason for checking on his well-being.

With a soft smile, he presses a kiss to your temple, “I feel a little more than ok now...” He confirms before pulling back to look into your eyes, “May I do my own wellness check?”

There is a playfulness to his tone that softens the hard exterior of your residual panic and you bite your bottom lip when you nod.

His expression grows pensive as he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts your face from left to right, his own head following the motions whilst he narrows his eyes,

“Hm, nothing out of the ordinary here...” He grins, his blonde hair rustling slightly with the pace of the wind, eyes alight with fondness, “Still beautiful- still curious, still driving me insane because, I don’t know what’s going through her head...”

A small bit of laughter leaves your lips as you slide your hand up his forearm before settling gently on his wrist. With your fingertips, you press lightly against the bone beneath his skin, relishing in any tangible part of him you can touch, “I had a nightmare about you.”

He purses his lips together, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, “Did I turn into a tiger and try to eat you? My men have told me they had this dream quite a lot during training...”

Yoongi attempts to keep his tone playful but he looks slightly deflated now as he waits for your response.

With a small smile, you shake your head tightly. You take his hand away from your chin, lacing your fingers together, ensuring that the grip you have on him is tight.

“No. You were-”A sigh leaves your lips whilst you shake your head, “You were hurt.” You spare him the details, “I woke up and just started running over here to make sure you were ok...it’s a bit silly now that I’m thinking of it.”

Yoongi can’t help but smile at you, his heart flourishing with the promise new romance often makes. He is saddened that you were worried on his account but, he would be lying if he said that this wasn’t endearing.

Ok- so perhaps it was extremely endearing.

“And if I wasn’t ok?” He wraps his arms around you, “Would you have come to my rescue?”

The smirk on his lips makes him all the more handsome and the feeling of his hands on the small of your back, makes your mind fuzzier than you’d care to admit.

“I would have-” Your voice grows higher with determination which causes Yoongi to chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief, “Why are you laughing???? Do you doubt my ability to hold my own on the battlefield?”

Yoongi’s laughter is choppy and warm, it soothes every sore spot of anxiety in your head in almost medicinal way.

You wish you could hear the sound more.

“Absolutely not.” He shakes his head, still chuckling a bit, “In fact, I think you’d make a fine solider, ma'am. It’s just-” He glances down at your feet, “I don’t usually recommend wearing house slippers on the battlefield.”

The rolling of your eyes, brings Yoongi’s laughter back into the conversation.

“I would have managed just fine, thank you. You underestimate how powerful house slippers can be when brandished by the right person.”

He raises his brows, “Is that right? You wouldn’t need a sword then? Just your slippers?”

“Mhm.” You grumble with certainty, your fingers finding the ends of the hair hanging down from his pony tail, “My slippers and my wit are more powerful than any weapons you have here.”

Yoongi chuckles, the sound low and slow in the base of his throat, “Now that sounds a bit more realistic- that mouth of yours would certainly be enough to guarantee your victory.”

As he’s replying, you’re gently tracing your fingertips up the length of his spine, admiring the strength clearly present in the muscles of his back.

“Hm-” You muse, stealing a look directly into his eyes, “I do hope to show you what my mouth is capable of someday-” Fluttering your lids innocently, you try to stop the smirk from taking over your mouth but, when Yoongi’s grip tightens on you, it takes over anyway.

Drawing a deep breath through his nose, you see his Adam’s apple bob in the center of his throat as his jaw fills up with tension. An audible swallow comes from him as his gaze slowly shifts from playful to perturbed.

“I find it ironic that you’ve chosen to threaten my wellbeing…whilst in the middle of a wellness check …”

You hum with a sense of false innocence, “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.”

“You’re dangerous” He murmurs, and you don’t miss the lust that coats his voice, “and unarmed...” A chuckle leaves his lips then as he presses his hands further into your skin, “and in your house slippers. I think you might be the biggest threat I’ve ever encountered.”

This makes you giggle now, dropping the salacious tone from your voice but, as you lean up to press a kiss to his lips- a voice brings your motions to a halt.

“General Tiger! Are you going to join your men for training this morning or were you planning on teaching them the art of seduction?”

It’s Jin and he’s stood outside their tent with his arms crossed. It’s then that you notice the lack of movement in his camp. Most of the recruits were sort of standing around awkwardly, many of them sneaking a glance at the two of you.

They look rather shocked at Jin’s choice of words, expecting Yoongi’s wrath but instead he merely smirks and leans in so his lips are at your ear before whispering, “We’ll talk about this later...”

His slightly menacing tone sends excitement rushing into your chest as you reluctantly pull away from him.

You salute him, “Yes sir.”

Yoongi forces a breath out of his nostrils, shaking his head at you, “You’re going to kill me one day.” He mutters to himself as he practically saunters back to his camp.

Yoongi is still smirking as he returns amidst his group of men, which Jin promptly comments on.

“Even after a decade with you, you still surprise me.” He notes, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek.

“Third line, run those last two again! I need you sharper than that!” Yoongi calls out to his men, replacing his commanding expression with one full of nonchalance, “What are you referring to?”

Jin merely nods to the place the two of you had just been canoodling in, “I wasn’t sure that I’d ever see the day you took a partner- let alone the day that you’d publicly display affection for one. I wouldn’t necessarily think to question it but-”

Yoongi smirks, his eyes on the men in front of him but his focus clearly elsewhere, “And yet here you are...”

Jin rolls his eyes, “You can’t possibly blame me. I mean, you have a reputation that spans across the entirety of this land- does it concern you that they might mark you as vulnerable? From what I’ve gathered around the plaza, many of these villagers have already began to view you more casually.”

Yoongi’s smirk never fades as he calls out another command to the recruits, “If an enemy brands me as vulnerable- that is an error on their end, not on mine. In fact, I imagine it would bode quite well for me in the end. In regard to the villagers viewing me in a certain light- I can’t say I mind. Being feared was never something I asked for- you know this well. I would hope that more of the people I’ve served find me approachable.”

Jin doesn’t look convinced, knowing Yoongi far too well to believe that this was the end of his explanation, “There is more to it than that, isn’t there?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have other motives for being so open about her.”

Yoongi tilts his head in thought, still not bothering to look at him, “I just don’t think it hurts to send a message, to anyone who might be observing us.”

Jin scoffs at his vagueness, attempting eye contact, “What message might that be?”

Finally, Yoongi turns towards him, the ghost of his previous smirk on his mouth, “That she is both protected and accounted for.”

With that, Yoongi draws his sword and heads back amongst the large crowd of men who, having finished their drills, were now eagerly awaiting his instruction.

Jin finds himself smirking as well now, undeniably intrigued by his general’s newfound attitude.

Your day in the marketplace moves slowly but, you find yourself largely unphased. With a mind full of budding romance and unresolved passion, it’s difficult to focus on the mundanity of everyday life.

“So- “ Jane begins, with a curious gaze as the two of you begin packing up your wares for the day, “I’ve seen you over at the military camp quite a lot these past few weeks...”

Unable to resist, you roll your eyes at her observation whilst lining your bags with your belongings, “I’ve been making bread for the battalion.”

You’ve learned over the years of working with Jane that keeping your responses to a minimum is a good idea, particularly when she decides to fish for information.

She has an impressive habit of picking your words apart in search of anything potentially scandalous.

“Oh? So I suppose canoodling with their leader is just a part of your services then?”

With wide eyes, your head whips in her direction, “What do you mean?”

Jane chuckles, smoothing her hands over the many fly aways atop her head, “The man clearly moves as though a burden has been lifted from him and, given the way he looks at you every time he visits our plaza- I have no choice but to assume that you were the one to do so.”

Most of the time, you’d shy away from her attempts to gossip but, you’re in a bit of a mood after your earlier encounter with Yoongi so, you decide to give her something to work with. “I am a healer Jane, if I can lift the burden of stress from my patrons- I won’t shy away from the opportunity.”

It’s her turn to widen her eyes now as she chokes back the small gasp coming from her throat, “Are you- are you saying it’s true then? You’ve laid with the Tiger?”

In an almost child-like manner, you giggle to yourself, glancing over at her briefly, “Is it still considered lying with him if I were pressed up against a tree?”

Jane’s face shines like a summer tomato, fit to burst, as she hustles closer to you, “My girl!” She whispers, “What has gotten into you?”

Brushing off leftover debris from your cart, you turn towards her, “Well according to your theory-” You wager, “I suppose it was the Tiger,” You smirk, “Wasn’t it?”

Jane smacks your arm now, causing your laughter to increase in volume, “Y/N! I am shocked by you-” She begins before her features seem to morph back into her previous curiosity, “and slightly impressed...I thought I was the only whore around here.”

“Jane!” You swat her arm now, shaking your head at her and trying your best not to laugh, “Aren’t you married?”

She shrugs, a smirk now present on her lips, “I am but-” She eyes her husband, who is obliviously untangling his fishing line across the plaza, “Morris and I are well-acquainted...” She allows the word to drop from her mouth like maple syrup, “with other members of the village.”

Did she just-

“Whatever satisfies your heart and mind, Jane. I’m glad you and Morris are active community members...” You wave her off, giggling once again and desperately hoping she won’t divulge any further details, “I’ll see you tomorrow...stay out of trouble.”

“Don’t give me advice you know I won’t take Y/N...” She chuckles loudly before calling her husband, “Oh Morris! Don’t forgot we have plans with the minister and his wife this evening!”

Morris’s eyes widen, seeming to understand the hidden implication behind her words as he puts his index finger to his lips in an effort to silence her.

With that disturbing piece of information, you rush out of the plaza before you learn anything else that has the capability of scaring you for life.

Before heading to Rachel’s with her steamed buns, you decide to stop at the library to check out the new arrivals from the Queen’s province. Every month or so, they send new copies of the latest publishing from the capital and, given how coveted they are- you always try to make it to the library on the day of delivery.

You’re able to snag a title on growing herbs in the wintertime before spotting someone you’ve been quite eager to see: Rachel.

You find her perusing the history section, completely unaware of her presence even as you slink up beside her, “Oh hi there- fancy meeting you here; how was meeting your new student?”

Jumping slightly at the unexpected interruption, she pivots towards you before her eyes narrow with accusation, “Oh NO you don’t!” She chides, though her red cheeks suggest something else, “I cannot believe you used my love of teaching to stage a romantic COUP in my own schoolroom!” She rants, eyes wild with disbelief.

Ignoring her completely, you lean against the shelf- admiring the scent of the parchment before repeating your question, “Uh huh yeah-” You dismiss, “How did it go?”

“It went...” She clears her throat, mindlessly running her fingers over the spines resting on the shelves, “very well- it went very well.”

Looking at her expectantly, you raise your brows, “Can you define ‘well’ for the courts please?”

Rachel’s eyes seem to light up all over again as they drift into her story, “I never thought a man like that could be interested in such a quiet life like mine...we hardly know each other but, there is such kindness and passion in his eyes...it feels like I’ve known him for years.”

Seeing your best friend so enamored warms your heart; if anyone deserved happiness in this world, it would be her.

She goes on to tell you everything that happened between the two of them, recounting the nervous glances, flushed cheeks and a romantic confession from Bambi with the biceps himself.

At her conclusion, you’re unable to help the excited squeal that leaves your lips as you wrap your arms around her flushed frame, “I’m so happy for you!!!” Your scream comes out as an excited whisper, not wanting to feel the wrath of the librarian before you recall her earlier comment, “I think your quiet life and impeccable charm is what drew him in, in the first place...” You nudge her playfully, “You should have seen him talking about you- even I was swooning.”

She glows brighter, her figure emanating a bright carnation as she smoothly changes the subject; Rachel will only take the spotlight for so long, “Speaking of swooning, how is that ferocious general for yours, eh?”

Suddenly, you become very interested with a book on the shelf beside you, “Hm? What general? I don’t know a general Rachel, I’m just a silly little medicine woman.”

Her eyes widen as she smacks you playfully, “APOTHECARY!” She corrects and, the two of you giggle like schoolchildren as the librarian shoots daggers in your direction, “Don’t play coy with me- I spilled my guts about Jungkook. Fair is fair.”

Resigned, you let out a sigh and try to contain all of your emotions towards the subject, “Fiiiiine. The general simply explained that...” you look around to make sure no one is listening before lowering your voice, “that the reason we haven’t, hmmm what’s the word-” You pause once more, looking rather pensive, “defiled one another yet, is because he wants to wait until he has no more distractions. Which basically means we must wait until retirement, which of course also means- I am likely to go insane.”

Rachel snorts, slapping a hand over her mouth in an effort to conceal with laughter, “Wow he is serious about his intimacy.” She comments as she places a hand on your shoulder, “It’s been nice knowing you. I will tell the world your story.”

Slumping against her, you groan, feeling the full weight of your impatience, “If you’re wondering whether or not he still kisses me passionately beneath the moonlight despite the fact that he wants to wait- the answer is a resounding yes.” You explain, matter of factly, “it’s like he is wishing for the destruction of my sanity...”

Rachel links arms and giggles once again, “Look at us hm? Being pined for by heroes like in the poems that line these shelves...” She nods to them, “Who have thought?”

“I am slightly regretting all of my daydreams involving a knight in shining armor- who would have thought there would be so much yearning?”

She merely laughs again, shaking her head at you, “Have you two discussed his retirement?”

You nod, “His entire battalion is retiring this year. He said it should be around the wintertime, all of them have been in service for 10 years, including Jungkook.”

“That’s incredible: ten years of such a hard life. I couldn’t imagine. Do you know what they will do?”

“That means Jungkook joined the queen’s army before he was of age,” You observe, furrowing your brow, “I imagine they will retire with their chosen partners. Yoongi said that, that was his plan at least-” Your voice turns slightly coy at the end, “I don’t imagine they will have to work for the rest of their lives. My parents always talk about how well taken care of decorated soldiers are.”

Rachel’s face falls, “I’m just imagining Jungkook choosing this life at such a young age...the things those men have seen and, the rough life they have in service to the two queens...” She shakes her head, “I hope they all find peace and happiness, no matter what they choose.”

You nod, resting your head on her shoulder, “I think they have made their choices already- it all depends on if their partners reciprocate their advances.”

Rachel nudges you when she hears your teasing tone, “Quiet down you, we’re in the library...”

After much more giggling and, gushing over the men that have stolen your hearts, the two of you part ways.

Rachel has an evening to prepare for after all...

She rushes home after her time at the library. The books she gathered for her lesson on Monday are carefully placed on her bookshelf and, the ingredients for tonight’s meal are sprawled out on her countertop.

As she begins the long process of preparing for her night with Jungkook, she allows her mind to wander to a place she seldom visits: the past.

Like most people, she finds indulging in this subject to be quite the slippery slope. Today, she finds herself remembering a time where finding love seemed like nothing more than an elaborate fantasy. Rachel is a brilliant woman yes, but she has mistakenly branded herself as invisible for most of her life.

Now, she is faced with the reality that not only does someone see her but, they are enamored with her.

It’s slightly terrifying.

Another quiet breath is pulled through her nose then as she smooths her hands over her dress once more.

Glancing back towards the home she’s shared with herself over the years, a small smile comes over her face as she realizes that she might need to get used to the idea of sharing.

But then again, it will be nice to have someone around during the winter...

Especially when that someone has biceps like Jungkook.

Rachel waves at a group of students who scream her name excitedly from across the street whilst desperately hoping that they don’t try to follow her to her destination.

With another deep breath, she begins heading out of the market plaza and into the deep emerald of the clearing just before the camp. Normally around this time, she would be heading there with Y/N to deliver bread but, tonight she takes a sharp left into forest.

She had given Jungkook instructions on how to get there and he had then insisted on getting there before her to set things up. Rachel realized at that moment that her ability to refuse him was at a minimum, especially when he flashed those beautiful eyes her way.

Curse him and his ethereal beauty.

Narrowing her eyes slightly, she navigates through the maze of trees as the sound of running water slowly makes its way into her ears. A smile comes across her lips then, as she realizes she’s getting close.

The sun is beginning to take the minimal warmth of the day with it as it begins its descent towards the horizon and, she feels slightly regretful that she chose to meet with him around sunset.

Sometimes you have to sacrifice body heat for the ambience.

As she nears one of the many pools that come off of the main river, she finally sees Jungkook waiting for her. Slowly but surely, she can make out his appearance for the evening and as she does, her heart swoons.

He’s standing somewhat awkwardly at the edge of a large tan woolen blanket, dressed in a red tunic and red cloth pants, with his onyx locks freshly washed and curling in various directions atop his head. She sees him swallow at the sight of her, the tiniest of smiles etching onto his lips.

“Good evening.” He bows slightly, gesturing to her, “You look- um, you look very nice.”

She returns his smile, fingers clutching the basket of food a bit tighter, “Good evening. I could say the same to you, red looks really great on you.”

His stance seems to light up at her compliment, the tiny smile growing, “That’s what my hyungs said, I wasn’t sure if it was too much but, if you like it then-” He nods, cringing at how nervous he feels, “-then that’s good.”

Rachel bites her lip, noticing his nerves immediately, “I love it,” She assures him before raising the basket up, “I brought dumplings. I wasn’t sure what kind you liked so I brought a few different ones.”

At the mention of food, the tension within his figure seems to dissipate.

“I can’t wait to try them,” He grins now as he gestures to the blanket, “You can sit wherever you’d like, I can take those from you-” He shakes his head then, regretting his choice of words, “No wait... here-” He is gentle as he takes the basket from her before turning around to set it carefully on the blanket. He then reaches out with his palm extended, “I’ll help you down...”

Her heart bursts.

It seems she isn't the only one flooded with nervous excitement.

“Thank you-” She insures to heighten the gratitude within her tone, wanting to soothe his anxiety in any way she can, despite feeling so much of her own.

He plops next to her in a less graceful manner then he would have hoped as he looks regretfully toward his canteen, “We don’t have an extra canteen in the camp. They were all given away to the new recruits. I would have brought you your own but, I washed mine for you and filled it up. I can drink from the river over there.”

“Oh goodness no, you don’t have to do that-” She shakes your head, pulling out her canteen from the basket, “I figured you would have had your own; I should have brought you one just in case though-”

“No really, it’s ok! I can just use mine.” Once again, he cringes, “I guess it’s a bit strange that I would have thought you’d want to drink from mine...I don’t know what I was thinking.”

At the rather innocent pout on his lips, he looks up at her- feeling slightly hopeless.

A bit of silence lingers in the air for a moment before Rachel giggles and at the sound, Jungkook’s lips twitch.

“It’s not a good sign that you’re already laughing-” He laments, the smiling that was threatening his mouth fully taking over, “Even though I quite like hearing it...”

Rachel places a cautious hand over Jungkook’s knuckles, relishing in the warmth of his skin, “I promise you it is-“ She disagrees, “It’s important that I’m around people I can laugh with- even if its at our own expense sometimes…”

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth turns up in a half smile, “That might work out in my favor then- my hyungs say I appear one way but, behave another…I guess that’s why I feel so nervous now…”

He looks up at her quite innocently through his long eyelashes as Rachel furrows her brow, “What do you mean?”

Jungkook’s fingers are now aimlessly toying with the bit of loose thread and, with her heightened sense of empathy, Rachel can sense that he is burdened in some way.

“I am slightly afraid that you will be disappointed when you get to know me…” He admits.

This shocks Rachel as she cannot imagine how someone as beautiful as Jungkook could lack confidence in any capacity. But still, she feels the urge to understand him.

“Well, I don’t want to discount your worries Mr. Jeon but, “ She tilts her head slightly, a hint of sternness in her gaze, “I sincerely doubt your ability to disappoint me.”

Jungkook’s cheeks begin to burn all over again; there is something about the way her lips look curving around the words ‘Mr. Jeon’ that he stores away for a later time.

“Aren’t I already different than what you expected?” He chuckles, and the sound is boyish and full of airiness but, it still holds a bit of tension.

He was right.

He was much different than she had anticipated but that isn’t saying much, considering the fact that her first impression of him came after he took down a group of raiders.

“Different doesn’t always mean disappointment…” She assures him candidly, “In fact, I am quite relieved that you aren’t what I expected.”

He is intrigued, “Most of the people I meet are afraid of me but, I can’t say I blame them; My hyungs and I come with a reputation. Were you afraid of us when we came here?”

Jungkook wants to know what she thinks, even if he might be uncomfortable with her answer.

Rachel eyes the dumplings collecting the cool air around them and, doesn’t even notice the fact that they have yet to start eating. Both of them are too overcome with anticipation to pay attention to much else aside from each other.

It felt instinctual to begin things this way.

“Yes.” She replies honestly, catching the way his face falls and regretting it instantly, “But that wasn’t your doing. I have come to understand that you and the rest of your battalion are merely victims of village gossip. Besides, the fear I felt quickly disappeared once I saw you.”

Jungkook’s face lightens once again as he extends his hand towards hers. Rachel feels a shiver rush eagerly up her spine as he slips his fingers between her own, “You aren’t afraid of me now?”

Anyone else may have found it odd that Jungkook needed this type of reassurance so early in the evening but, he simply couldn’t relax until he knew that he wasn’t perceived as a threat. He is so used to putting on a tough persona and, even more used to people fearing him. He has grown quite tired of always needing to disarm himself.

Tightening her grip on his hand, she allows a playful smirk to etch across her lips, “I wouldn’t have agreed to meet with you in the middle of the forest if I was afraid of you. That would be quite foolish don’t you think?”

Jungkook’s teeth are brilliant as he grins, a breathless bit of laughter leaving his mouth, “Not unless you were some sort of thrill seeker…”

Sensing the bit of suggestion in his voice, she takes her chance and utters, “Those aren’t exactly the type of thrills I’m seeking…”

Jungkook feels his mouth dry up at her words but, before he has time to process any of it, she raises the basket once more, “These are getting cold.”

And ever the gentleman, he doesn’t comment on it but just as he did with the image of her lips, he stores her comment away.

For later.

The two of them begin eating and, Rachel watches on fondly as he shoves more than half of the dumplings in his mouth. She can tell he is doing his best to appear civilized but, Y/N did mention that they don’t eat proper meals very often so, his manners weren’t exactly in tip-top shape.

Rachel didn’t mind. In fact, she took great pleasure in watching him stuff himself. His cheeks puffed up adorably to accommodate the volume of dough he was shoving in them but, despite him wanting to eat the entire batch, he kept insisting on feeding her bites of food every 30 seconds or so.

During dinner, they talked about all sorts of things:

Rachel’s childhood, her work as an educator, her favorite seasons…

Jungkook wanted to learn it all.

He was fascinated by her entire existence.

However, after a certain amount of time, Rachel begins to notice how he continuously shifts the conversation back towards her. He doesn’t look uncomfortable when she asks him questions but, he keeps answering them as quickly as possible.

Finally, Rachel decides this theme has gone on long enough before she finally asks the one question that’s been on her mind all night.

“What led to you joining Yoongi’s battalion so early?”

Jungkook swallows the instant lump in his throat, “Uh well…it wasn’t hyung’s battalion yet when I first joined. We both went in together. He took over when he was about…” He thinks for second, “20 I think? So I would have been about 17. But we were both running in missions long before that.”

Rachel almost comments on the fact that he didn’t answer her question but, he beats her to it and, continues.

“Yoongi-hyung and I are brothers but, not by blood.” He begins, “His family took me in when I was 7.”

She can sense that he is about to tell her something quite serious so, she hesitates to ask any further questions; he would clarify if he was comfortable enough to do so.

“Hyung and I are from the same village. Our families had been neighbors for three generations until-“ He averts his eyes, preparing to tell the story that started it all, “we were attacked. Our village was destroyed by a raider clan. The first incident wasn’t so bad but, they came back and-“ Jungkook swallows the emotions that have balled up in his throat, “they decided that they weren’t after our valuables any longer; they were after blood.”

Rachel’s whole body is tense with the weight of his story, her mouth seemingly frozen in its slightly parted position as she tightens her grip on his hand.

“I still can’t comprehend it.” He breathes, shaking his head, “It wasn’t even like they were trying to recruit us or take us as laborers; they just wanted to create chaos.”

She can see the way his eyes are growing glossy and the way his breath seems to shorten and with her whole being, she expects to wipe his tears but, they never come.

“Our families tried to flee the village together but-“ He clears his throat, “my parents and I were shot by the enemy’s arrows. I remember seeing them go down in front of me and, then there was this horrible pain in my side. I tried to stay with them but, Yoongi-hyung wouldn’t let me. He just threw me over his shoulder and ran. I still don’t know how he did it; he must have ran with me for hours before we made it to the next secure village.”

Still captivated by his story, Rachel runs his thumb over the backs of his knuckles to ensure that he knows she’s right there with him.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispers and, he offers a sad smile in return, squeezing her hand.

“Hyung told me many years later that the shots my parents received were fatal. There was no chance of rescue. But, for so long I believed I had abandoned them there. From then on, the only family I knew was Yoongi-hyung and, the parents he decided to share with me; He shared everything with me actually: his food, his clothes, his bed, his patience,” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “When the military council came for him, I panicked; we had been inseparable for so long. I couldn’t stand to see my hyung going off to war alone so,” At last the heavy emotions begin to lift from his face as a slight smirk comes over his lips, “I may have snuck out in the middle of the night and, followed him out…”

Rachel’s eyes widen, “You could have been killed!” She smacks his arm playfully which causes him to break out in a fit of laughter, “How on Earth did you manage that??? I’ve always heard they were so meticulous!”

Jungkook shrugs, somewhat smugly, “I fit in quite well. I was already taller than hyung at this age and, he and I had been training together since we were young.”

“What did he say when  realized you had come along??? I’m surprised he didn’t send you home himself.”

He is chuckling again, his eyes lighting up fondly at the memory, “Oh he nearly killed me himself actually…he found me hiding out in a barn on the military camp and, it was truly the only time I’ve ever seen him that afraid. But once he was done lecturing me, we both decided it was safer for me to stay. Hyung was worried that I’d be punished if he turned me in to his general so, I passed as a volunteer. The rest is history…”

Rachel grins, overcome with fondness, “History indeed, especially the part when you became the youngest recruit to ever join the royal army.”

The faintest blush crosses his cheeks, “Well technically, the records will never reflect that, most people in our land believe hyung and I are the same age. I personally find this hard to understand as he clearly has so many more wrinkles than I do but-“ He shrugs again, “I suppose it works out.”

She smirks, “I suppose it does. I don’t know where the royal army would be without it’s Terror Cub…”

Jungkook groans, his face turned up in disgust, “I will haunt the historian who writes that name down in the books. Could they not have come up with something more menacing? Terror Cub? It sounds like a character in a children’s book…”

He is pouting profusely now and, Rachel decides that his adorable expression is far deadlier than any weapon he could wield.

She was simply powerless against it.

“I promise not to go blathering to any of our historians about it. If anyone asks, I will tell them you were the fiercest solider in all of the land.”

Jungkook’s heart swells with pride as he subconsciously puffs out his chest, “While you’re there please tell them of our involvement as well. I hope to be remembered for the pursuits of my heart rather than just my skills on the battlefield…”

Rachel’s lips twitch, “What exactly shall I tell them?”

His demeanor shifts slightly and, it's as if the sparkle in his eyes turns to lightening, “I think you should tell them that-” The distance between their lips seems to lessen almost subconsciously as Jungkook licks over his bottom lip, “our connection was medicinal, that it was almost as if we had been holding our breath until we finally found one another.”

Despite Jungkook’s words raising every hair upon Rachel’s skin, he seems to grow immediately nervous by his candid statement.

“That’s really excessive isn’t it? My hyungs always tell me that I should think before I-“

But he isn’t able to finish his sentence…

Rachel has closed the distance between them and, is pressing her lips against his own. Jungkook’s body stalls at the feeling and, he assumes the whole world stalls along with him.

For in this moment, there is nothing else but her lips.

Jungkook’s hands are unstable as they reach her cheeks and, he grimaces because he knows his palms are damp with the evidence of his nerves.

But Rachel doesn’t notice.

She can only sigh hopelessly into his mouth as the two of them deepen their kiss.

============================

The river welcomes you with open arms this evening. The chill of the oncoming fall season is no match for the thick woolen coat your mother made for you last year. Tonight, you are overcome with peace as you stroll along the embankment. You’ve always felt so much happiness around the river but ever since meeting Yoongi, the meaning of this piece of land has shifted and intensified.

He is unlike anyone you’ve ever known. He’s wise and controlled but, he carries a type of wildness that is uniquely his own. The great and powerful Tiger: he is so much more than just a rumor.  Even though you claimed to make your own judgements about things, you still expected Yoongi to be some sort of brut; an egotistic warrior at best or a bloody thirsty monster at worst.

But you had been wrong.

Yoongi was a man of great skill yes, quick like lightening and deadly like his feline persona but, his heart contained so much depth and so much warmth, that you found yourself drowning in it. The two of you hadn’t known each other long but, the emotions are already so strong. Your future with him is all you find yourself daydreaming about and, you can only hope that he is able to keep all of the promises he made to you.  

The anxiety surrounding his departure strikes again, right in the middle of your heart.

You have half a mind to join his ranks or even stowaway amongst the new recruits…

Surely he wouldn’t notice if you wore a disguise, right?

The twigs snapping on the forest floor behind you remove you from your ridiculous plan as a smile immediately graces your face.

“You’re late.” You call, not bothering to turn around, “Did the recruits keep you tied up again?”

There is a bit of silence before a voice answers your question.

“I didn’t realize you were expecting me- although it doesn’t surprise me that Yoongi’s plaything would have a heightened sense of awareness…” The voice is unfamiliar and, it causes your blood to run cold, “…given that she’s canoodling with a monster.”

It all happens so quickly.

Just as you’re about to turn towards the voice, a burly arm is wrapping around your neck. Gasping for air, your hands immediately fly up to claw at your attacker’s forearm.

Panic is rushing through you, your feet kicking around as he attempts to drag you backwards into the trees.

“You really shouldn’t be out in the dark by yourself, pretty.” He snarls into your ear, his breath reeking of alcohol, “There are a lot of maniacs out here…”

You can feel yourself losing consciousness as he tightens his grip on your neck. Your fingernails are desperately digging into his skin, trying to cause him any discomfort that you can.

“I want to see the look on his face-“ Your assailant cackles, “I want to see his reaction to your cold body laying in the place where you first kissed…He thinks he’s strong but-“

You hear him gasp for breath as an unknown force seemingly knocks it out of him. When he releases his grip on your neck, you frantically suck in the air around you, wincing as you fall to your knees.

In your attempt to distance yourself you scramble up against the nearest tree and, just as you’re about to scream for help, you realize that you’re not alone.

A golden dagger sticks out of your attacker’s shoulder as he attempts to get away from the one who threw it: Yoongi.

“Stay right there.” He calls to you gently, his eyes devoid of any emotion.

You are still reeling from nearly being choked to death but, you listen to his command, nonetheless. The man on the floor is dressed in the colors of the royal army and, you gather that he belongs to Yoongi’s battalion- or at least he pretended to.

Yoongi catches him by the hair as he drags him up to his knees. The man is spluttering from the pain, his brows drawn in tightly as he struggles against Yoongi’s grip.

“Do you remember the lesson from this morning, rat?” He ventures, his voice casual and icy cold.

“Y-yes sir…”

Yoongi rips his hair back again so the tip of his nose is facing the sky, “What was it?”

“Ah!” He groans, his hands balling up at his sides, “N-necessities, sir.”

“Necessities- very good.” Yoongi would sound like he was praising him if it weren’t for the heartless smirk painted across his lips. “Now, would you say your head was a necessity?”

As Yoongi asks his question, he unsheathes his sword with his free hand and presses the blade to the man’s throat.

“Yes!” The man practically yelps, his body freezing beneath Yoongi’s grip, “Yes, sir! Very necessary, sir!”

You can’t help but watch in complete shock. There is a part of you that knows Yoongi would never kill someone in front of you but, the way the light has drained from his eyes is forcing you to doubt yourself.

“Oh is it now? What about your throat?”

Yoongi’s expression barely shifts but, you can literally feel the fury emanating off of his figure as he presses the blade further into his skin. Ruby red blood barely peeks out of the man’s skin as he whimpers.

“Yes-“ He chokes out, “It’s necessary! Please! They told me to kill her, I’m just the middleman! If you spare me, I promise I will tell you everything just-“

Yoongi stalls his movements, his eyes flashing towards you for a moment before yanking his head back again, “Who is they?”

Through another pained groan, the man spits out his answer, “The Meddleways sir.”

Although unfamiliar to you, the name seems to affect Yoongi greatly. However, he quickly composes himself and pulls the man upwards by his hair, “Stand up.”

Wincing, the man rushes to his feet, his hands lingering out in front of him with uncertainty.

With his lips curled beneath his fury, Yoongi offers one last eerily calm sentiment in the man's ear, “You are very lucky that I am in the presence of a lady. Had I come across you on my own-” He stops himself, taking a deep breath in through his nose. He shuts his eyes for a moment, collecting the storm inside of him before continuing, “I will put you with your leader after my men are done questioning you. From there, you will make the journey to your trial and, whilst you are on your way- please be sure to thank whatever god you believe in that I am not the one tasked with your punishment.”

Yoongi’s voice is nearly unrecognizable. It’s like a glacier, cold and enormous but, slow moving. It seems to inch into the man’s subconscious as he cowers beneath him.

“Do you understand?” Yoongi confirms to which the man nods immediately, “Good.”

With that final word, he rips the dagger out of the man's shoulder. His yelp is cut short by the handle of said dagger as Yoongi whacks it against the side of his head. The man falls to the ground unceremoniously, his body going limp for the time being.

The events that have transpired, leave you frozen against the bark of your favorite willow tree. Yoongi seems to know something you don’t and, you can’t fight your instinct to ask questions.

“Do you know him?”

Your voice seems to pull Yoongi away from his urges and back to reality. In an instant, he is rushing over to you, his cold gaze defrosting slightly as he assesses your wellbeing.

“Did he touch you?” He mutters, his fingers on the end of your chin, tilting your head to the side.

“Well, he was choking me but-”

Yoongi glowers, his nostrils flaring slightly, “Did he touch you?”

The way he emphasizes the word ‘touch’ gives you the hint that Yoongi is referring to whether or not he violated you.

“No...” You whisper, allowing your fingers to brush against his cheek, “He was only on me for a moment before you found us.”

Yoongi deflates under your touch but, to say that he relaxed would be an overstatement. In fact, it's safe to say that he has never been more tense in his entire life.

“Are you hurt?” His voice breaks at the end as he swallows back his emotions. Before you’re able to answer, Yoongi’s eyes light up with quiet rage all over again, “Your neck- it's going to bruise-”

“Hey-” You coax his gaze up to yours, “I’m safe. You saved me and, I’m safe.”

Your words unfortunately do nothing for him but, he doesn’t want to center this interaction around his fear. Instead, he simply nods and places a tense kiss to the center of your forehead before nodding to the limp figure behind him.

“I need to take him back to the compound, Namjoon and Jimin will get out any information he has. In the meantime, I need you to stay away from here. In fact, don’t go anywhere alone after sunset- not until I can assess the-”

“Let me come with you. I want to know what’s going on-”

Yoongi shakes his head, “No. It’s too dangerous to have you on the compound right now. My entire battalion may be compromised.”

“But Yoongi-”

His eyes grow cold again, “This is not a discussion. A civilian has no place in these matters.”

With his words, he drops his grip on you but just before he steps back, you are shooting a glare his direction.

“Civilian? Is that what you call me now, Min Yoongi?”

Using his full name would be considered disrespectful if the two of you didn’t know each other the way you do but, it still feels foreign coming out of your mouth.

Yoongi technically has authority over you and your entire village. If he wanted to, he could order you to do anything he wishes. Yoongi never exercises his power this way but, he is so overcome with fear that he wants to do anything to protect you. “You know that isn’t what I was implying. Don’t twist my words.”

“Then please feel free to untwist them for me. That term comes with a loaded meaning, and you know it...”

The tension clings in the air between you like moss to a tree. It’s uncomfortable and more importantly, unfamiliar. Yoongi stares you down, his hardened gaze wavering as the seconds pass. His eyes trace each feature of your face with desperation, seeking to memorize your current expression and, not because he is particularly fond of it but, merely because it belongs to you.

Yoongi’s future is not guaranteed and, therefore- neither is his life with you.

So he must memorize it all.

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.” He concedes, his features softening, “I just need some time to sort through my men. I won’t deny your request for information but, I have to gather it first. I am asking you to stay away until then and, its only because I fear for your safety- not because I don’t regard you as my equal.”

His words gnaw at your guard until it disappears and, suddenly you wish to be in his arms. You know both of your reactions came from a place of fear as its woefully unlike the two of you to misunderstand one another.

“I’m scared.” You whisper, “I don’t want to leave your side.”

Yoongi’s heart breaks at the worry written on your beautiful face and, he loathes the unconscious man beside him even more for making you feel this way.

“Come here,” He reaches a hand out towards you and, as soon as you take it, he is pulling you against him. He places a kiss atop your head, allowing his lips to linger for a moment. When he feels your fingers curl into fists around the fabric of his tunic, his eyes squeeze shut.

He is terrified.

“I won’t let anything happen to you ever again, do you understand?” He murmurs, his voice unstable, “I will protect you with my life and, gladly lay it down for your own.”

All you do is nod, burying your face into the crook of his neck, “But you’re going to leave me...”

And for this Yoongi has no response.

Because he will protect you yes, but he will never lie to you.

He is going to leave you and, it will be much sooner than he had planned; there is no use in training the recruits now- as far as he is concerned, they have all gone bad.

“Only my body will leave you.” He answers with another kiss to your head, “The rest of me is bound to you forever.”

----------------------------------------------------

It’s been nearly a day since you’ve seen Yoongi.

After he tied your attacker to a tree, he walked you back home and, fetched the rest of the men for reinforcements.

You have yet to see the man since Yoongi disarmed him but, more importantly, you hadn’t seen any of the battalion.

It was as if they had disappeared overnight.

The only indication of their presence was their horses roaming around the compound. The rest of the men were seemingly confined to their tents, a tactic likely used by the leaders to ensure they kept track of everyone whilst they interrogated the wayward recruit.

But still, it was unnerving.

It gave you another glimpse at what your world would look like very soon. Your life had changed so drastically since Yoongi’s arrival and, you simply weren’t ready to move throughout your day without the promise of meeting him by the river.

But you had to be ready.

You had to be ready a lot sooner than you anticipated.

The day had moved like slugs along the riverbank after the summer heat has dried up parts of its shoreline. Despite the nerves brewing within you and the ache of anticipation all over your body, the clocktower stared back at you defiantly, refusing to move.

Yoongi promised you he would come to your house as soon as he had the information he needed but, you weren’t planning on waiting for him any longer.

It had been nearly twenty-four hours since you were attacked and, without answers, you slowly felt yourself going insane with impatience. Once your wares were packed up and taken home, you strode with determination to the makeshift compound.

Still appearing to be deserted, you don’t have any clues as to which tent to start with first. You opt for the one that the seven men usually stay in and as you approach it, you desperately wish you were here delivering bread.

The illusion of simplicity had been shattered. You were being courted by the leader of the Royal Army and because of this, nothing was never simple to begin with.

You felt foolish for believing otherwise.

Before you’re able to ring the bell outside of the tent, you are met with Yoongi rushing from the opening, still dressed in the same clothes he wore the night prior. Dark rings of exhaustion are positioned around the sockets of his eyes and, his lips look as though they haven’t had a sip of water all day.

He is beautiful but, he looks like hell.

“I had a feeling I wouldn’t need to come looking over you-” He smiles but, it doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he offers his arm and jerks his chin towards the trees, “Walk with me?”

This can’t be good.

You nod, interlocking your arm with his and, taking a moment to relish the warmth that still ebbs and flows from him. Even with the gnawing monster of the unknown staring daggers at you in the distance, you feel safe with him.

“Did he keep his promise?” You ask him as the two of you step into the forest. The light shining through the trees is painted the same color as the sunset on the mountains and, if this were a normal meeting between the two of you, you would have admired it. However, the only thing you can focus on is what Yoongi has yet to tell you.

“He did,” He nods.

The promise, of course, refers to the attacker vowing to tell Yoongi anything he wanted to know if he decided to spare his life.

“And?” You cock your head, trying to catch his gaze that seems to be fixated upon the dirt beneath your feet.

If only you knew that he was actually staring at the way your dress billows in the wind, the way the shadows from the leaves bounce off the soft skin of your ankles...

He must memorize it all.

“I have to leave...” He finally says, looking up at you, “...tonight.”

The news is reasonable but, it feels like a cruel joke. You have half a mind to deny him, to lash out and, scold him for toying with you in such a way.

But Yoongi would never lie to you.

Ever.

“Tonight.” You whisper, swallowing the bitter flavor of the word. And almost involuntarily, your hands are curling gently around his forearms in protest, “Why tonight?”

Yoongi can quite literally taste the pain in your voice and, it sickens him; it sickens him because, there is nothing he can do about it.

He leaves his arms in place for you to touch however you want, thoroughly shocked that the desire still manages to coil in his stomach even in the face of such sadness.

“The man who gave me this scar on my face was the leader of a cruel wayward group known as the Meddleways. Years ago, after Namjoon successfully lead them to our army, the leader and I fought to the death. Xansa, was his name. It was the closest I had ever come to losing my life.” Yoongi almost smiles as he feels your grip on him tighten but, he opts for gently caressing beneath your elbows instead, “This group, they had plans to attack the Queen’s capital and assassinate the people who lived there. After the death of their leader however, many of them came to our side- claiming that they were held against their will. There were a small number who escaped and, I foolishly assumed they would dissolve.”

You look up at the scar he speaks of, gazing at the angry strip of marred flesh running down the center of his right eye. In complete silence, you reach up and trace your index finger along the shape of it, letting out a shaky sigh at the thought of someone causing him pain.

“They haven’t.” You conclude whilst Yoongi closes his eyes beneath your touch, “Have they?”

He simply shakes his head as his hands secure themselves round your waist. His eyes stay shut even when you move your hand from his scar to cup his cheek. The skin there is splotchy from the evening breeze and, surprisingly soft. You almost think to question it but, Yoongi is already answering your silent observation.

“Your salve.” He chuckles as his beautiful eyes finally open, “It would be swept up by the people of the capital in no time; it’s a miracle in a tin.”

Allowing just a moment of reprieve, your mind drifts to the not-so-distant future, “Shall I make a career there then? I imagine if you’re retiring, I will be the one providing for us.”

A bit of ego flashes through Yoongi’s eyes, his fingers curling into the fabric of your dress, “My villa is nowhere near the capital. And as for providing for us, I am pleased to inform you that I have enough gold from my military service to last us several lifetimes.”

Good, you think, one lifetime together wouldn’t be enough anyhow.

“Am I to be a housewife then?” You arch your brow, throwing an unimpressed but playful glance his way.

Yoongi smirks, “You are to be whatever you wish. It’s just worth noting that I have the means to take care of us both. Although, I will admit that whilst my retirement will hardly be noticed as there is already someone taking my place, if you chose to retire now that- that would have some dire consequences.”

His compliment, however silly, makes you giggle as you roll your eyes, “Your logic is insanely flawed my dear general however, I will accept your flattery nonetheless.”

Your laughter soothes the rawness in Yoongi’s heart, even if it’s just for a moment. He follows suit, unable to help the small bout of laughter that leaves his lips. But before long, you two seem to settle back into the solemnity of the moment and, you’re asking:

“There after you...aren’t they?”

Yoongi is nodding, his brows drawn tightly together whilst he murmurs, “They are coming for me now. My battalion and I must reconvene and cut them off before they attack here. Xansa is dead but, according to the man who attacked you, there is a new leader, Xansa’s brother. Their objective remains the same: they wish to destroy the peace the Queen’s have built and, exploit the land and it’s people for power.”

To know that not only is Yoongi tasked with defending the lands from violence, but also that he is being targeted specifically, frightens you beyond belief.

“Why can’t you stay hidden? My family will hide you; you could blend in here until they are defeated, I know it isn’t ideal but-” You sound panicked now and, it breaks Yoongi’s heart that he must deny you any reprieve.

“Darling,” He cups your face, his own bottomless gaze searching yours, “There is only one place in the world where I can truly hide. And someday,” A calloused thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek, “I will take you there and, we will live out the rest of our lives. But as of now, anywhere I go- weak minded men will follow, desperate to prove their idea of strength. My head is a trophy to all men who are poisoned by their masculinity.”

“Your head is not a trophy,” You protest but your voice barely reaches above a whisper, weakened by your own despair. For the last time it seems, you brush your fingers against his skin- electrocuted by the sensation, “and you are so much more than the rumors that follow you. So much more...”

Yoongi has to summon all the strength within him to keep his emotions at bay, not wanting to break down in front of you. Instead, he silently brings your lips to his and, presses the softest kiss to your mouth.

He pours everything he wish he had time to say into it, his breathing picking up slightly as you return the passion with everything you have.

The two of you know you have to break it off, especially as you hear the compound finally come to life beside you; they were preparing to leave.

With foreheads pressed together, you are the first one who speaks with bated breath, “Promise you’ll come back to me...”

His hands are on either side of your face now as he centers your focus on his eyes. You had yet to see such silent determination within them since you met and for the moment, it convinces you that his word is golden.

“I will crawl back to you if I have to.”

When you part, you gather that most of Yoongi’s men have already left. It appears that only the main unit and, a group of thirty or so remain in the compound.

“Hyung!” Hoseok calls from the front of the tent, his normally bright expression full of contempt, “It’s time.”

You detest how well their readiness to leave coincides with the end of your conversation but, it almost feels easier this way. Being unable to anticipate the exact point of Yoongi’s departure has allowed you to be suspended in ignorant bliss.

The pain isn’t as drawn out.

Yoongi returns his statement with a tight nod before, turning his attention back to you for the last time.

With all the power in him, he musters up a type of promise one can only convey with their eyes and says, “I’ll meet you back at the river...” He swallows around all of the words he wishes to utter but, with a delicate brush to your cheek, he leaves you with only two, “...my love.”

And suddenly, the world between you is massive once again.

Suddenly, he is a thousand miles from you even though he only moves a few yards away.

You feel frozen in place almost, your cheek burning with the remains of his touch as you try to catch the breath his words stole from you.

Is this really it?

The last guaranteed moments of your incredible connection with a man you could only dream about- is this truly how they end?

You’re standing there longer than you realize because, the next thing you know, you hear the whinny of the last horses and, the sharp commands of Jin’s voice.

Spinning around, you aren’t thinking clearly as you sprint towards the group of men beginning to ride away into the forest.

“General Min!”

You are surprised at how well your voice carries over the noise and, out of the group pops Yoongi riding on the back of a black stallion.

With his gold sword attached to his hip and, his capable hands controlling the reigns, Yoongi brings the movements of his horse to a stop.

“Don’t be late.” You call to him, fresh tears spilling silently from your eyes. But despite the tears, you are smiling- offering some semblance of hope to the two of you.

He chuckles, bowing his head towards you, eyes outlined in red, “Yes ma’am.”

Then he is gone.

And with him goes all of your steam for the time being.

It’s as though the energy has been pulled away from you, leaving you sullen and exhausted regardless of how much rest you’re able to get.

The weeks without Yoongi begin with nightmares. The one you had just before he left seems to haunt your subconscious day in and day out. It’s as if your brain were torturing you with worst case scenarios, preparing you for a world without him.

Without Yoongi.

The night the battalion left, you rushed over to Rachels and, upon her opening her door, you simply collapsed into her arms.

With your head on her shoulder, the two of you cried together. You hated the fact that she understood the pain you were in but, you were happy to have someone relate to.

She understood.

To live such an ordinary life one day, only to fall for a mysterious stranger the next…

And then to have that stranger seem so familiar, to connect so deeply with someone you haven’t known for very long and, then having to say goodbye…

It was a very specific type of pain and, your best friend knew exactly what the sting felt like.

Nearly a month of this passes before you receive something that has your monotone soul seeing color once again: a letter from Yoongi.

A young man, who identifies himself as a royal messenger, shows up at your door with a tightly wrapped piece of parchment that contains enough hope to keep you going for the foreseeable future. This young messenger explains that he was commissioned by the “the Royal General” to deliver two letters to this village every month until his return.

Two letters meaning, one to you and of course, one to the beloved schoolteacher next door.

The thought of Rachel getting to hear from Jungkook makes your heart sing.

Trying to contain the tears in your eyes, you thank the messenger profusely before practically tripping over your own feet as you rush back to your bedroom. You waste no time in removing the protective fabric from the letter, your shaky hands nearly ripping the corner of the parchment.

Y/N,

I know we didn’t discuss writing to one another but, I couldn’t handle not contacting you in some way. Thankfully, I’m privileged enough to have access to the royal messengers and, they have promised me they would deliver my letters until I return. Are you staying healthy? I know how cold it must be getting where you live. Please reassure me that you’re staying warm so, I can stop obsessing over it.

Our men have been successful so far. We’ve encountered many obstacles but, we have the strategies to hold our own. Most of my days have been spent working on a pathway out of this mess but, we have been unable to find the new leaders of the Meddleways. The Queens are aware and have sent reinforcements but, we still have a long way to go.

Not to worry, I still plan on keeping my promises to you. It’s the only thing that keeps me alert most of the day as I haven’t been able to sleep as much as I’d like to. Our time at the river spoiled me, I didn’t realize how much energy I was getting from your lips. Sleep depravity meant nothing when I was with you.

Yours,

Yoongi.

By the time you finish the letter, a teardrop is regretfully staining the center of the page. Frantically, you wipe it from the parchment before it’s able to blur the ink placed there by your lover. The indents from his lettering are the only piece of him you have so, you press your fingers to the page in an effort to feel closer to him.

Over and over, you read the words he wrote, overcome with gratitude that he would go to such lengths to have this message delivered to you. By the time you’ve read it for the tenth time, your mother is calling you from the other room, signaling supper is ready.

You have no interest in eating at this moment but, you know that family dinners aren’t something you’ll be able to enjoy once Yoongi returns. So, you decide to file your thoughts away for later and join your parents in the main room.

The meal your mother prepared takes a lot of time and effort so, you insist on cleaning up after the three of you finish eating and, send your parents to bed early. They work so hard and, deserve all of the rest in the world.

After cleaning up the kitchen, you eagerly return to your room to draft your response to Yoongi.

General Min,

I am pleased to report that I have not one but, two woolen blankets at my disposal. You can put your obsessions regarding my warmth to rest for the time being. Other than missing you, my health has kept up just fine since you left. The village is preparing for a rainy season as we do every year but, I’m actually quite excited for the storms.

It’s good to know the Queens are supporting your mission as I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to track down such a volatile group. Nevertheless, my faith in your abilities is still strong. If anyone were able to apprehend them, it would be you. In regard to your sleep deprivation, I can only offer you my energy from afar. I visit the river every night since you’ve been gone and, I find myself leaning against our tree, wishing that it was you who was pressing me into it.

Continue to think of my lips, General. They will be all over you before you know it.

I cannot wait to hear from you again,

Y/N  

A smirk is on your lips as you seal your letter with melted wax, hoping that your wayward tongue motivates him to keep going. The promise of finally being able to consummate your passion for one another burns brightly within you and, you can only hope he will feel the same.  

The messenger had explained to you that he would return for your letter in the morning as he had other deliveries in the area. That night, you slept particularly well and, for once you were able to dream of something peaceful.

As promised, the man returns to your home the next morning to collect your letter and with a tip of his hat, he assures you that he will return the same time next month.

And he certainly does but, it seemingly comes at the cost of said month dragging on endlessly. However, when the messenger shows up at your home, you are quick to forget the last four weeks and, instead just focus on the small piece of Yoongi waiting for you. Before the boy continues on, a nagging question enters your mind and, you are stopping him before he reaches Rachel’s house.

“Excuse me, I hate to pry but, have you been in contact with the general at all?”

He offers a small smile as he shakes his head, “No, ma’am. The general leaves his letters at one of my many posts throughout this land. I met with him only once but, he specifically instructed me not to come looking for him if he didn’t leave anything for me to deliver; he said it was too dangerous.”

This frightens you as it comes ripened with the devastating possibility of Yoongi being incapacitated in some way. Of course it isn’t the man’s intention to worry you and rather than unloading all your anxieties onto him, you merely smile back and thank him for his time.

Before he knocks on Rachel’s door, you also learn his name and, silently scold yourself for not thinking to do so sooner.

He tells you his name is Hyunjin and, expresses his gratitude for your business before leaving you alone to read your letter.

Y/N,

I am trying to find the words to properly convey how many times I re-read your letter and, all of the ways I managed to use it, without sounding crude, but then I remembered that my Y/N doesn’t really care much for decency does she? So I shall be candid for once…

It’s very late when I’m writing my response and, I am overwhelmed with my desire for you. It’s quite sickening actually. I feel lightheaded when I think of us alone together.

Never in my entire life have I wanted someone so badly.

I wish I could see you somehow. Jungkook draws pictures of Rachel on every surface he can but, I don’t possess the artistic abilities he does. My attempts to draw you would be insulting. Although, I wouldn’t commission anyone to illustrate you either; They would mess it up somehow.

How has your month been? Are you still baking bread as often now that my greedy battalion is away?

Yours,

Yoongi

You are immediately transported back to your schoolyard days as you squeal into your bedsheets at his confessions. Yoongi truly had a way of saying everything you needed to hear in only a few words. More notably, he had a way of speaking so passionately; it took your breath away.

Feeling full of unbridled optimism, you pull out a fresh piece of parchment and your ink to begin drafting your response to him. 

General Min,

I can’t help but wish you had been a bit cruder. Next time, feel free to include all of the way you used my words; it would comfort me to know that I am tending to your needs from so far away.

It seems as though you and I share the same illness. I can’t help but, think of you in the same light every evening when I’m trying to sleep. I only wish I was able to dream of you the same way, I’m certain I would wake up feeling much more rested.

Are there any updates on your progress? It’s been three months and, yet I feel as though it’s been twice as long. Are you feeling alright? Are you able to find adequate shelter?

I’m sorry for the interrogation but, I can’t help myself when I begin worrying about you.

Tell Jungkook that Rachel draws him as well. Every time I visit her at home, she is shoving one of her pictures into dress pocket. She thinks I don’t notice but, I most certainly do.

What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t know when she was in love?

In regards to the bread, I am baking slightly less than I was before but, I still find myself adding in extra ingredients for you all every now and then.

I’ve gone on long enough but, I still have so much more to say.

Just know, I miss you terribly.

Love,

Y/N

Hyunjin returns again the following morning and, graciously accepts your letter before heading on his way. When you hand him the parchment full of late night confessions, you truly think nothing of it.

Despite the longing you felt for Yoongi, you had grown used to looking forward to his letters. In a way, it was almost as if he were much closer than he actually was. The letters made you feel like he were writing to you from the capital while he was away on business rather than out in the middle of the battlefield.

But that didn’t change the reality.

Yoongi was out in the battlefield and, things were growing far more complicated than he was letting on.

“Hyung, we can’t keep evading their fire. They are going to catch up to us eventually.”

Yoongi has been trying to write his response to you for over an hour and, every time he sits down to do so- he is interrupted.

This time, the interruption comes from Hoseok who stumbles into the tent, sore from yesterday’s battle.

“Yes they will,” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “and when they do, we will lead them to the outskirts of the capital where the Queen’s have established reinforcements.”

“Aren’t you worried they will strike before then? We have already lost-“

Yoongi interrupts him now, trying his best to control the frustration and pain in his tone, “I am aware. I write down every single one of their names. That does not change my plan. We will not engage unless we absolutely have to. I don’t want to see another village go down beneath our fire.”  

Hoseok is dissatisfied with his answer but, he knows better than to question Yoongi when he is like this.

“What is our plan for tomorrow, hyung? Are we moving to a new area?” Jimin asks quietly, his tired eyes barely lingering open as he runs his fingers through Taehyung’s hair. His head is positioned in Jimin’s lap whilst his injured body tries to recuperate; everyone was losing their steam. “I don’t know if Taehyung should be travelling right now. He might have to ride on the back of my horse if we must move on…”

Yoongi’s chest tightens as he sees the state of his men.

The most prestigious army is now littered with bruises and open wounds. There isn’t a single muscle in their bodies that doesn’t feel strained or damaged in some way and, he doesn’t even remember the last time they had a proper meal.

Clutching his quill in his fist, he nods solemnly at Jimin’s comment, “You are probably right. I will walk the perimeter with the rest of our men tonight before bed and if all is clear, he can camp out an extra day whilst he heals.”

Jimin offers a small smile in return that only just reaches his eyes, “Thank you, hyung.”

He nods tightly, adjusting the grip on his quill before continuing to write; he has so much he wants to tell you. He wants to cry out to you in his letter but, he doesn’t want to worry you. Instead, he’d rather pretend like everything is alright, like the two of you are merely star-crossed lovers sneaking around after dark and, writing in code to communicate with one another without being caught.

He wants to pretend like he is anyone else but most of all, he wishes to pretend to be the man he promised you he would be.

But, he won’t lie to you.

He can’t.

Y/N,

This might be the last time you hear from me for a while. Things are growing extremely difficult for my men and I. We must now focus all of our efforts on making it to the outskirts of the capital safely so, that we have the reinforcements we need.

My entire body aches for you, Y/N. There is no comfort for me aside from your letters.

And as much as it pains me to say it, I am beginning to fear that I might not make it home to you. I have yet to express this to my men because, I don’t want to worry them. I just don’t know what our future holds anymore.

We have sustained so many losses.

I don’t want to worry you either but, I am only doing so because, I need you to know something. My need for you to understand this overcomes my need to make you comfortable.

I love

BANG.

With a flash of fire, the tent Yoongi resides in is quickly overwhelmed with chaos.

And as he hears the desperate calls of his men, he knows he has no choice but to abandon his words to you and, fight.

Or else he and his men are doomed.

---------------------------------------

There wasn’t a particular day Hyunjin arrived but, you did expect him to come some time during the middle of the month. However, the middle of the month comes and goes without a word from him and, while you find this to be quite odd, you chose to think nothing of it.

Yoongi was in the middle of a lengthy mission, it was a miracle you had been able to hear from him as much as you did.

However, when the second month passes without word from him- you begin to feel the tidal wave of panic swelling inside of you.

You feel idiotic for getting sucked into the romance of letter writing. It had convinced you, only for a moment, that there was nothing at stake.

But this couldn’t be further from the truth.

Everything was on the line.

How could you lessen your vigilance?

Yoongi could very well be in a grave danger somewhere and, you would never know.

Does he have arrangements for such a thing?

Did he consider this?

Of course he did, you think, as you begin to choke back your tears.

He has seen more carnage than you could ever imagine; he most certainly thought of informing you of his passing.

So maybe this is a sign to be hopeful.

Maybe this means that he is merely stuck somewhere or far too busy to send letters.

With an almost delusional sense of certainty, you furiously wipe your hand across your face and, try to gather yourself.

Today was a busier day at the market so, you desperately hoped things would move quickly.

For once, you are lucky enough to have your wish granted.

The next month however, isn’t so merciful.

Every day is the same. You wake up, try to muster up a smile, pack your wares and sell in the plaza. You bring Rachel her snacks and, the two of you eat in silence before it becomes too much and, you both end up crying.

She hasn’t heard from Jungkook either.

It’s been three months and, you have heard nothing about the whereabouts of the men you intended to be with for the rest of your lives. It’s as if the world is turned upside down and, you spend the majority of your time thinking the worst.

The next morning however, you are granted the briefest moment of respite when Hyunjin knocks at your door. You barely manage to pull on your coat when you yank open the door and, beam at his presence.

“Thank goodness, I was so worried-“ You are cheering for only a second until you catch a glimpse of his expression.

“Good morning ma’am. I’m sorry to have disturbed you but, I felt it was my duty to give you an update on the General…”

Your blood is cold and still within your veins and, the sickening feeling of grief begins crawling its way through your senses.

“We haven’t heard from his battalion for months now. The Queens have sent out a league of experts to find them but, we have yet to-“ He swallows back his nerves as he sees the look on your face, “-we have yet to be successful.”

The tears are unstoppable as they quickly flood the sockets of your eyes. Your hand feels clammy whilst it grips your door frame, your whole body growing numb with each word he utters.

“This doesn’t mean the worst, ma’am. The Tiger’s army is well known for disappearing like this, it’s part of their strategy. I just didn’t want you to be left wondering why I didn’t return. When I went to the postal location, nothing was waiting for me.”

With a shaky and unrecognizable voice, you ask, “Not from Jungkook either?”

He frowns, looking at you with pity, “Nothing, ma’am. There are normally hundreds of letters for me to deliver and, I didn’t find a single one.”

Regardless of his attempt to comfort you, you knew exactly what this meant: something was horribly wrong.

You couldn’t even manage to think of the word but, all of your terrifying nightmares containing Yoongi begin to flood your subconscious. It's all you can think about now.

“I promise to update you as soon as I hear from them, ma’am.” Hyunjin feels immensely uncomfortable delivering this news and, he is eager to return home as quickly as possible.

All you can manage is a nod before you robotically begin closing your door, “Thank you, Hyunjin.”

Thankfully, your parents are out for the day so, you’re able to shut the door quietly before sliding against it, allowing a broken sob to leave your lips.

You knew in your heart that the likelihood of Yoongi and his battalion being safe was next to nothing. The lack of his letters had been evidence enough but, you wanted to remain hopeful, you wanted to convince yourself that he was just busy.

But you were lying to yourself.

Cupping your hand around your mouth, you let out all of the emotion you couldn’t relinquish in front of Hyunjin. Your eyes burn as your tears stain your cheeks, your lips parted in a silent scream. With your body shaking, you cry for the life you were never able to have and, for the man you were never able to love.

That evening, your mother helps you into bed. She understands when you refuse supper even though she made your favorite. She lets you cry in her lap like you did when you were a little girl only this time, you weren’t crying over schoolyard bullies.

You don’t leave your bed for two weeks. The only time you have contact with anyone other than your parents is when Rachel finally decides to drop by to check on you. Of course, the feeling had been mutual and, just as you had before, the two of you spend most of your time crying together.

Once she decides to leave, you are once again left alone with your thoughts, all of which are of Yoongi. Today in particular, you are remembering his hands and, the first time you intertwined fingers.

“Why are you looking at my hands?” You had asked him

“Because I want to hold them.”

His voice echoes in your mind now as fresh tears find their way out of your eyes for the millionth time and, it’s this memory that prompts you to visit the river.

You hadn’t been back since Hyunjin came to deliver the news. The thought of going there alone sent a deep sadness through you but, part of you felt like it might be a good idea.

If you were to ever truly mourn him properly, you would have to grieve every piece of your time together.

Wrapping yourself up in your winter coat, you make the short journey towards a place you once called your favorite spot in the world. At first, it was because of the inner peace it had brought you but once Yoongi came into the picture, it took on a whole new meaning.

The rain had stopped hours ago so other than a bit of extra mud and a much colder breeze, the river looked just as it did during the summer.

Securing your coat tighter around yourself, you sniffle whilst looking out towards the river. The palette of the sunset is reflecting off the water and, bouncing against the ground beneath your feet. If it had been under any other circumstances, you would have felt content here. You would be collecting herbs, humming to yourself, speaking with the forest creatures- despite their lack of understanding you but...

Most importantly, you would be waiting for Yoongi.

The thought once again causes you to cry as your brain tries to conceptualize a world without him.

It seems so impossible.

...

“So- is this where the tree bark grows?”

Your eyes widen and you turn around so quickly you nearly fall over. As if out of a fairytale, General Min Yoongi stands just beneath the entrance to the river, dressed head to toe in his strongest armor. His hair is slightly messy and framing either side of his face and his mouth is portraying a brilliant smile.

He’s alive.

You’re crying harder now, frozen in place as you call to him, playing out the first time you two met here,

“You of all people should know not to ambush someone like that...”

If you aren’t mistaken, you see him sniffle as the smile on his face only grows, “I’m sorry, I’m late ma’am...”

His voice breaks at the end and the next thing you know, you are running. Opening his arms, he braces himself for you and, as you crash into him- he uses all of his strength to lift you off the ground. Spinning in a circle, he chuckles fondly when you start placing kisses anywhere you can reach: his cheeks, his lips, his nose, his forehead, his chin...

It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s him.

“You bastard!” You cry to him which only causes him to laugh harder, “I thought you were dead I- I thought you were...”

He stops spinning as his gloved hands come up to cup your face, his eyes wet with the slightest evidence of tears, “Shhh I know, I’m so sorry- I tried everything to reach you but, it wasn’t safe...”

You’re shaking your head, your hands coming up to rest over his, needing to feel every part of him, “It doesn’t matter- you're here now.” You say the phrase but then suddenly, you are overcome with a sickening feeling. What if you were just imagining this? What if you had simply dreamed of him? With a desperate glance, you press your hands into his harder, searching his eyes, “You are here aren’t you? Like- you're really here? You came back to me?”

Yoongi’s expression crumbles, his thumb brushing over your cheek, “I am, my love. I am here- this is the only place I know now.”

Sniffling again, you lean in towards his lips, your mind completely fuzzy with emotion, “Show me, show me you’re here.”

He takes the hint, closing the distance between you and, tucking his mouth into yours. It’s a much harder kiss than you’re expecting but, you relish in it nonetheless. Yoongi’s lips taste like medicine to you, all of your pain melting away beneath his touch. He sighs shakily as he presses your body into the cool steel of his armor, slightly wishing that he had been able to wash up before coming to see you.

It’s been a long journey.

“You’re here...” You whisper into the kiss, your hands tracing over his features, “You kept your promise...”

Yoongi is nodding, pecking at your lips over and over again, “I told you I would crawl didn’t I?” When you nod, he continues, “Well I crawled, darling. I crawled all the way back to you...”

You pull back slightly, unable to get enough of his face, your fingers coming up to brush the hair from his face. Elated, you laugh breathlessly, a smile burned onto your mouth.

“You will never have to crawl again, General Min. It is now my life-long mission to make sure you are in a warm bed with a full belly for the rest of your life.”

Yoongi beams at your sentiment, his eyes lighting up along with his grin whilst his hands slide down your body before settling on your hips, “I love you.”

There it is.

Those three little words that have been etched in your mind for longer than they should have been.

Gripping his face between your palms, you are bringing his mouth down towards you once again, “I love you too.”

After much more kissing, Yoongi mentions that he hasn’t eaten properly in quite a while and, that he has a few things to discuss with you before you can leave with him. You insist that he can use your family’s bathing area to wash up and, that you will pick up clothes for him in the plaza; the armor he’s wearing looks incredibly uncomfortable.

The two of you decide to visit the local tavern as it will be a good place for Yoongi to eat and, update you on what’s going on. He does specifically mention however, that he doesn’t want to speak of what he’s just been through. He only assures you that all six of his leaders survived and, that the Meddleways had been apprehended. He promises you that he will tell you stories from the mission later down the line but for now, he only wishes to speak about your future together.

However, there is one question that’s been nagging at you since he arrived that is slightly off-topic.

“Is Jungkook here?” You take your seat at the table across from him, slightly hating how far apart the two of you are.

Yoongi grins, a bit of fondness in his eyes, “He wouldn’t even wait for me to get out of the chariot before he was already sprinting like a mad man towards her home.”

You feel overjoyed at the thought of how your best friend’s day is going. The grief hit the two of the same way so, you hope she is feeling all of the happiness you felt when you realized the man you loved returned home.

“Are the four of us riding in the chariot together then? You might need to stay in town for a few days if that’s the case- I can throw all of my worldly possessions into a trunk but, Rachel would need more time to prepare.”

Yoongi reaches out for your hand then, smiling as you instinctively lace your fingers between his, “The chariot only has room for two, I’m afraid. My brother has decided to stay here for the time being. I think this final mission was especially hard on him, he’s expressed that he just wants to stay in one place for awhile.”

This resolution warms your heart. The idea of Rachel and, Jungkook making a quiet life for themselves in your home village, brings you so much joy. In many ways, it seems as though they had found a home in each other and, you couldn’t wait to see what their future held.

“I couldn’t imagine a more perfect scenario for the two of them. Although, I do know someday Rachel wishes to leave the village…I’m sure they will work out the details when the time is right.”

“My brother has already insisted that he will build her a house with his bare hands,” He chuckles, “so, at least she doesn’t have to worry about finding a carpenter.”

“What a gentleman.” You giggle before taking a sip of your drink.

Yoongi squeezes your hand gently, acknowledging your sentiment before eagerly moving back to what he wanted to discuss with you.

“My villa has been prepared for the two of us whenever we are ready. We have an entire battalion waiting to escort us there but, we will have to return to the capital after a few days.”

“Retirement ceremony?” You venture with a smile to which he chuckles and, shakes his head.

“I opted out of the theatrics actually. As much as I appreciate the sentiment, those ceremonies last far too long. I am just eager to start my life with you. However,” He sighs, wincing slightly, “my successor doesn’t seem to feel the same way. He wants his full induction ceremony which of course, I would have to attend...”

You cock your head, “Who is your successor?”

Yoongi smirks, “Seokjin-hyung.”

This doesn’t surprise you. Jin is the oldest member of the lead battalion and although Yoongi was technically their general, Jin never failed to assert himself as his right hand.

“I thought the seven of you were retiring this year. Did he re-enlist?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “No, he is taking on the position I turned down.”

You cock your head, brow furrowed with confusion, “Oh? What position is that?”

A rather arrogant look flashes in his eyes for just a moment until he seemingly reigns it in, attempting to keep his tone as casual as possible, “I was asked to serve on the royal council as an advisor to the Queens…”

Its impossible to hide the widening of your eyes causing Yoongi to chuckle at the expression on your face, “You must have made quite the impression, General Min. My father has always told me that positions on the royal council are passed down by blood…you really turned it down?”

Yoongi merely squeezes your hand, “I did. Do you think I was mistaken?”

You shake your head, “Oh, of course not. I mean- selfishly, it’s the outcome I would have hoped for but, I just want to ensure that you didn’t do this for me.”

A small grin comes over his lips whilst his thumb brushes over the backs of your knuckles, “Unfortunately, I can’t exactly guarantee that, ma’am. I don’t think any of my decisions are made without you in mind…” You open your mouth to protest and, Yoongi merely chuckles again, holding his finger up to signal that he isn’t finished, “However, even if I didn’t have you in mind- I still would have turned it down. As flattering as the offer was, I don’t wish to work in this field any longer. I’m grateful for my time and, honored that I was able to serve my land properly but-“ He stares into your eyes and, you can finally get a look at how exhausted he is, “I’m very tired. I’ve spent my entire youth with a sword on my hip and, I want to live simply now. If I’m being honest, I want to be detached from the rest of the world for a little while...”

You admire the man sitting across from you so much.

He’s only ever given to others, laying his life on the line over and over again, only to have his reputation constantly called into question. Staring at him now, you can’t even remember a time when he was nothing more than a rumor.

“I can’t even imagine the hardships you’ve endured. Your desire for peace is only natural after everything you’ve been through.” You place a kiss on the back of his hand, allowing your lips to linger there as he responds.

“What I desire is you.” He counters, his voice slightly raspier than before, “Peace will just allow me to indulge in you properly. I want no distractions... just as I told you before.”

Yoongi’s voice is laced with something that is wholly inappropriate for a public setting but, neither of you seem to care- instead you just stare at each other for a moment. You watch as his eyes travel over every inch of your face before slowly easing down your neck and, back up again.

The pain of missing him is one thing but, the lack of opportunity to bury into one another is physically painful.

You clear your throat and, send a smirk his way, letting him know that you understand what he’s getting at, “Did you offer the position to Seokjin? Or was he just next in line after you?”

Yoongi leaves his lust in the back of his head for now. He doesn’t want to rile himself up in the middle of the busy tavern.

“The Queens offered him the position when I turned it down. He was named my successor a few years ago when I fell ill so, he was already in a position to take over for me if necessary. Out of all of my men, he is the most capable but, also the most willing.” He chuckles, thinking fondly of his hyung, “He will do a far better job than I would anyhow. He is much more social and, outspoken. Plus, he will be living in the palace- I couldn’t imagine a better life for such a man.”

The warmth in Yoongi’s tone is palpable and, you can’t help but admire the way he talks about his men; its as though they are family to him.

“To Seokjin,” You smile, raising your glass.

Yoongi follows suit, clinking the rim of his goblet yours, his eyes brightening, “To Seokjin.”

As the two of you sip from your cups, Yoongi continues on with his explanation, “The journey to the villa will be brief. We will visit the palace for the ceremony in a few days and, then make our way back home again. From there, we are free to do whatever we wish.” The word home fills you with bliss. For the first time in months, it seems as though everything was falling into place. Now, the two of you could truly be together and, live out the rest of your days in peace.

“Free-“ You muse with a smile, “I quite like the sound of that.”

He smirks, “Of course you do. You have never failed to remind me that you don’t care much for the rules…”

Shrugging, you lean back in your chair and regard him for a moment before replying, “I don’t care for the rules that keep me away from you, General.”

His smirk never falters, “Consider them retired then, apothecary.”

The two of your resist the urge to maul one another in public and, decide to return to your home so that you can pack up your things and, Yoongi can bathe.

You try very hard not think of the fact that Yoongi’s naked body is on display in your back garden as you neatly fold your belongings away in your trunk. There are some things that you’re leaving behind so, that your parents can continue to sell your wares if they wanted to. Yoongi has arranged for them to receive part of his retirement so, they never have to worry about working again. It’s been discussed that the two of you will visit often and, you promised your parents you would write them every week.

Yoongi returns from his bath whilst you’re shoving the last of your clothing away. You can smell him immediately, the scent of your lavender soap wafting away from his skin as he walks toward you. He says nothing until his arms are wrapped around your waist, his chin coming to rest atop your shoulder, “I’ve never been in here before but, your room is very much like what I pictured.”

“Oh?” You lean against him, “I didn’t realize you would imagine what my room would look like.”

You feel him grin against your shoulder, “Well- I suppose I thought more about what we would do in your room…”

Biting your lip, you turn your head to the side to get a better look at him, “And what exactly would we do in here?”

You have half a mind to check to make sure Yoongi had closed the door to your bedroom but, when his hands start sliding up the front of your body, you no longer care.

“I would have love to take you in this bed…” A low chuckle comes from his throat as he starts kissing up the side of your neck, “Although, I wouldn’t be able to make you scream properly with your parents in the next room would I?”

His words send a jolt of electricity up your spine, your body growing weak beneath his touch. Through your nose, you emit a deep and unstable sigh before gripping his hands that are resting just under your breasts.

“You could have kept my mouth occupied somehow-“ You counter, feeling your attitude brewing beneath the surface of your patience.

At your comment, you feel Yoongi’s grip tighten on you as he moves his lips to your ear, “Excuse me?”

But all you do is smirk in return, regretfully pulling his hands from your body so you can continue packing.

“You’re excused.”

Yoongi is about to grab you again but, the knock on your door interrupts your flirting.

This seems to be a very irritating trend.

The two of you eventually part ways with your parents and, although you feel a bit of sadness, you’re overjoyed that they are able to live their life together in comfort. And because of Yoongi’s connections, you will be able to come visit them whenever you want.

The sexual tension between you and Yoongi has yet to fully fizzle out and, he reminds you of this as he grips your waist whilst the two of you walk towards Rachel’s home.

He has many things he’d like to say to you after that comment you made back in your bedroom but, the excited greetings from villagers prevent him from doing so. And all the while, you continue to grin, pleased that you’ve been able to pierce that carefully crafted demeanor of his.

You scamper away from him as you near Rachel’s front door, eager to see your friend after everything that has happened today. You’re anxious to see Jungkook too; Yoongi mentioned that this mission had been hard on him so, you’re hoping more so than anything that he isn’t injured too badly.

Yoongi lingers extremely close behind you as you knock on Rachel’s door, practically bouncing in your steps as you await for her to answer.

And boy does she…

Swinging open the front door, Rachel is still giggling at the man seemingly attached to her from behind. Her hair is absolutely destroyed and, her dress is buttoned up improperly as she addresses the two of you.

“Good evening, Y/N-“ She practically slurs, her eyes lit up with the type of insobriety that does not originate from alcohol. She bows her head towards Yoongi, “Good evening, General Min.”

Your lips are parted in delighted surprise as you survey the two bumbling humans before you. Jungkook is dressed only in his linen trousers, his black tendrils sticking in every direction atop his head and, from what you can see- his neck is littered with various reds and purples.

“Good evening to you- harlot…” You chide, trying to contain your laughter.

She shrieks, reaching out to smack your arm, just as she always does, joy painted all over her face, “Excuse you! I am a respectable woman of education.”

“Uh huh-“ You smirk, unconvinced before nodding towards the man behind her. He’s not even really paying attention to you, his eyes are just staring up at your friend like a lost puppy, his lips swollen from their previous activities, “Jungkook, it’s good to see you. Are you well?”

He merely smiles, only glances at you for a moment before his eyes rush back to Rachel, “Very well, thank you.”

Yoongi clears his throat, “Jungkook-ah,” He scolds, “Answer her properly…also, why are you answering the door if you aren’t decent.”

Jungkook seems to snap out of it, hiding behind Rachel in an effort to shield his body from your view, “My apologies. I’m feeling much better now, I’m glad to see you are looking healthy as well.” His tone shifts once again as he addresses Yoongi, his brown eyes lighting up with mischief, “I just wanted to see you off hyung and, uh- Rachel said this was decent in this village, I’m just adapting to the new lifestyle.”

Yoongi raises a brow, unconvinced but endeared nonetheless, “I am highly suspicious of that explanation…”

Jungkook giggles like a boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “You should be.” He winks at his hyung, giggling harder as Yoongi wrinkles his nose in disgust. He rests his chin back upon Rachel’s shoulder before speaking again, “Are you two heading to the villa then?”

You’re grinning now, admiring how relaxed Jungkook seems around her, “We are. I was hoping to hug my best friend goodbye before we made the journey…”

Jungkook gets the hint, his eyes widening a bit as he reluctantly moves his arms from her, “I will give you thirty seconds.”

This causes Rachel to laugh, waving him off playfully as she opens her arms to you, “Come here you…”

You throw your arms around her, smiling even as the tears sting the corners of your eyes, “I’m going to miss you… far more than I care to admit…”

She laughs again, patting your back gently, “Oh you know I’ll be around…” She assures you but, her voice is tightening with her own emotions, “…but please make the journey to me often…I fear how stale this village will become without you.”

You’re looking at Jungkook now as he grins softly, admiring the two of you and, send a look his way, “I’m sure this one will keep you properly entertained…”

Finally, the Jungkook you remember returns as he seems to shy away from your comment, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Rachel is staring at Yoongi too and, she musters up the courage to throw a pointed finger in his direction; she is still slightly intimidated by him after all.

“You’ll take care of her, won’t you? She is precious cargo, General Min.”

Yoongi tips his head toward her as he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart, “You have my word, ma’am.”

Rachel smiles, sniffling a bit as the two of you release each other, “Good.” You pull away from her, trying not to give in to your urge to cry as you both sort of giggle, exchanging a series of knowing glances with one another.

“I love you, my dear friend.” You squeeze her hands and, she returns the gesture, her eyes glossy while she slowly begins to release your hands.

“I love you.”

Jungkook is back on her then, his brow furrowed with concern at her saddened state. He says nothing, not wanting to ruin the moment between you two and, chooses to press a soft kiss to her shoulder instead.

Yoongi moves closer to you as well, winding his arm around your waist and, squeezing your hip reassuringly.

“Write to me?” Rachel asks, trying to mask the cracks in her voice.

You nod, blinking back the remainder of your tears, “Every week.”

Leaving Rachel is one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do but, it feels so much better knowing how happy she will be. Yoongi stays silent for the moment, gently escorting you down the street, waving at many of the civilians that bid the two of you farewell.

Roughly 10 minutes later, the two of you are huddled in the back of a massive wooden chariot, pulled along by four black horses and accompanied by a group of guards. The interior is lined with padded silk and, is easily the softest thing you’ve ever sat on in your life. After the two of you are settled inside, Yoongi mentions your departure with Rachel:

“You two have a special bond, I’m sorry that you won’t be living near her for the time being…” He feels guilty for the moment, wondering whether or not you were happy giving up so much for him, “You know, we can always come back. I could commission the architect to design us a home out here.”

You squeeze his hand, touched that he would suggest such a thing, “I appreciate your concern but, I promise you that I am beyond content with my decision.”

His lips curve slightly, feeling satisfied with your answer for the time being. He would be sure to check in with you often, the last thing he wants is for you to feel unfulfilled.

“I’m happy to hear that but, please don’t hesitate to let me know if you ever get tired of me.” He chuckles, squeezing your hand as the two of you approach the chariot.

“I promise you, you would know...” You assure him, nudging his leg with your foot. Yoongi grins and quick as ever, he grabs your ankle and, places it upon his lap. The sudden motion makes you jump, a bit of laughter coming from your lips. Silently but still grinning to himself, he gestures for your other foot with his hand until you get the hint to rest both of them in his lap. He looks down at them, something unreadable flashing through his eyes whilst his fingers brush over the tops of your ankles.

Its such a simple gesture and, yet it sends shivers across the surface of your skin. Yoongi continues to touch you, not saying a single word as he traces the faint shape of the veins beneath your flesh.  Resting your head against the silk lining of the chariot, you allow your eyes to close in order to enjoy his touch. As your lids fall shut, Yoongi grins softly, finally allowing himself to ogle at you the way he wants to.

And oh, can you feel his eyes on you. They burn into your skin despite the fact that you cannot see exactly where he is looking. Truthfully, it wouldn’t matter even if you did, his eyes were everywhere.

His fingers slowly venture up to slide along either of your shins but, he is careful not to reach your knees just yet. And it's here that you decide to set your curiosity free.

“When was the last time you had sex?”

You feel his motions stop for a split second as he processes your question, the silence of the chariot much louder than before.

“Not long before I first arrived at your village.”

The effort to hide your frown is in vain as Yoongi’s rickety laughter gives you the hint that he’s already spotted it.

“Does that upset you?”

You keep your eyes shut, trying to stifle your smile, “Immensely.”

And there is another beat of silence before the two of you are laughing together. Yoongi flattens his palms on your legs, rubbing them gently in an effort to soothe them.

“I suppose that’s reasonable.” He concedes, his tone thoroughly amused, “And you?”

Your teeth are on your bottom lip then, trying to stifle yet another smile, “Not long before you first arrived at my village.”

Yoongi is pinching the skin of your calf playfully as an affronted scoff leaves his lips, “I see what you mean now, that is a truly upsetting answer.”

At long last you open your eyes and, the two of you regard each other for only a moment before you’re laughing again. It feels quite juvenile to jest about something like this but to you, it’s merely a testament of your comfort around Yoongi.  

“I guess it sounds odd on my end though, doesn’t it? Since I’ve been so insistent on waiting with you...”

You shake your head, “I don’t think so. I never assumed you insisted on waiting because you were protecting a virtue of some kind. You are a 28-year-old man, it would be silly of me to think that you hadn’t taken a partner before.”

“Taking a partner sounds far too intimate...” He retorts, “...my reputation caused many people to throw themselves at me in attempt to satisfy some sort of fantasy. Occasionally, my physical needs made me privy to their advances. But, that’s all it ever amounted to.”

It does sadden you that people interacted with Yoongi in this way. If they had taken just a moment to get to know him, they would have discovered someone worth spending their time on. In your case, spending a life time with...

You’re adjusting your position so that you’re able to get closer to him. With your feet off of his lap, you move across the seat until you sitting right beside him. His arm immediately positions itself around your shoulders, hugging you against him whilst your fingers venture towards the free hand now resting in his lap. Silently, you run your fingers over his skin, not missing the way his breathing shifts as you do.

“I am exceptionally grateful that you allowed me to get to know you. I don’t think I could have been this happy with anyone else.”

Your voice is smaller than normal and, it makes Yoongi feel warm inside, his head cocking in such a way to signal that he wants you to look at him.

“The pleasure has been all mine, ma’am- I can assure you.”

He leans into to kiss you then, barely capturing your lips before he’s pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. In the small beat of silence, you choose to utter the words you’ll be saying every chance you get for the rest of your life,

“I love you.”

And with a brilliant smile and, a kiss to your nose, he is whispering, “I love you too.”

On the rest of the journey, Yoongi updates you on the status of the rest of his battalion:

Seokjin, as he mentioned earlier, is making arrangements to move into the royal palace as he will be taking the coveted position of the royal advisor to the Queens. Yoongi also explains that he will likely take a partner in the coming years and, that his family will be well-taken care of for generations to come.

Namjoon returned to his home village to reconnect with his beloved, Danielle. The two of them plan to move towards the ocean and, raise a family there. Yoongi explains that it will likely be awhile until he sees him again but, that you both can expect a wedding invitation in the next year or so.

As for Jimin and Taehyung- they will be following a similar path that you and Yoongi are. Their villa is positioned deep in the forest, even further from civilization than the one you’re headed to. The last thing Jimin said to Yoongi when they parted ways was that he plans on dropping by once every other month to catch up, emphasizing how much he would miss him.

Hoseok’s status was somewhat of a mystery and, Yoongi smirks with a sense of fascination as he explains where he might be. Years ago, Hoseok met a woman who matched his skill with a bow and arrow. She lived in a village not far from yours and, takes a rather firm position against any kind of authority. Hoseok took a liking to her attitude and, challenged her to a marksmen competition. She won. Naturally, Hoseok was both wounded and intrigued by this woman and, Yoongi suspects that they had been lovers for quite some time until his battalion eventually had to move on. Her name was Orion, just like the constellation and, Yoongi bets all the gold in his possession that Hoseok disappeared to look for her.

The ride to Yoongi’s villa comes to an end nearly half a day later and, you’re asleep on his lap when he gently shakes your shoulder.

“We’re here, darling.”

And here you most certainly were.

Beyond a massive wooden gate laid the most beautiful structure you had ever seen. The villa sits proudly in the middle of a massive stretch of emerald grass with an array of flowers blooming around the perimeter of the cherry oak that winds in intricate patterns up into strong pillars. The windows are tan and, made of a screen like material which is intended to keep pests out of the home. There is a pond just off to the side, which you are eager to explore later and, a balcony facing the right side of the forest. Yoongi had not exaggerated when he said that the villa was quite far from civilization for the backdrop of the scene before you were the mountains themselves, enormous and calm as they loom over the property.

Everything inside Yoongi’s villa was a brand of luxury you had never known: art, elaborate furniture, plumbing, and more space than you knew what to do with. Still however, it was uniquely Yoongi in that it was comforting.

It felt like home.

He explains some of the interior to you as he leads the way to his bedroom. He mentions that you can get comfortable and put your feet up while he checks the perimeter; something he says to expect every night.

Old habits die hard.

With a kiss, he opens the door for you and, promises he will return in shortly.

His bedroom, or our bedroom as he had called it, matched the rest of the villa. It was quaint but clearly displayed his immense wealth as he had an enormous bed in the center of the room covered in likely expensive linens. The windows were all shuttered for now, the only light coming from the lanterns hanging by the door and the entrance to the balcony.

Whilst Yoongi is checking the perimeter, you figure you only have a few minutes to prepare before he returns. Rushing over to your trunk, you settle beside it on your knees as you rifle through your belongings, looking for the one article you had been saving specifically for this evening. Tucked into the bottom, much neater than the rest of your items is a sapphire robe made from the finest silk your village offered. You had been working on it slowly every since Yoongi had left, preparing for the night when you two were finally alone.

You were buzzing with anticipation as you take off your clothes, neatly folding them and setting them aside. Then the cool silk is drawn over your body before you secure it with the tie just above your belly button.

With a deep breath drawn in through your nose, you pad over to the end of his bed and, take a seat upon the cream-colored linen. The rain begins marching prominently upon the outside of the villa bringing a cold breeze through the cracks in the shutters. The glow of the lanterns placed at the entrance of the chamber throw shadows onto the tile floor, entertaining you for only a moment until the creaking sound of the door grabs your attention.

Yoongi enters the room, not looking up as he relays the findings of his perimeter check, “Other than a few rabbits, the coast is clear and, I think after all my years of training I can handle-“ He is in the middle of this joke when he looks up at you, the rest of his sentence dying on his tongue. You see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, his eyes darkening as they trail over your figure.

It seems like forever before he says something, his body simply frozen by the door, unable to do much else aside from staring at you.

“I don’t remember you packing that…” He breathes, his tongue wetting his lips.

“That’s because I hid it from you intentionally.” A nervous but sly smile comes across your lips, your hands sliding over the tops of your thighs, smoothing down the robe for the millionth time, “Do you like it?”

He’s shaking his head, his lips kissing his teeth, as he steps just a little bit closer to you, “That’s really not the proper word to use…”

“Well-“ You swallow, standing up from your position on the bed, eyes searching for his, “You are free to use whatever words you’d like…”

“I’ve suddenly forgotten most of the words I know, unfortunately.” He counters, his eyes darting from you to the floor multiple times before finally focusing on your face. And he’s shaking his head all over again, a sort of desperate look in his eyes, “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

The sincerity in his tone takes your breath away but, you do everything you can to hold his gaze, trying to beckon him toward you, “I want you to see all of me.” Your hands are moving towards the tie that’s concealing you from him but, when you’re about to undo it, his voice stops you.

“Wait-“ He pleads, hands lingering out in front of him, “May I?”

You try your best to swallow but, the sheer look of desire in his eyes is removing all moisture from your mouth. Nodding, you hold a hand out to him, your fingers wiggling to beckon him toward you.

He finally seems to thaw out his frozen posture, heeding the gesture of your hand and, closing the distance between you. Almost involuntarily, he leans down and places a soft kiss against your mouth. His lips are dry, almost sticking to yours as he pulls away.

He’s nervous.

You both are.

But at the same time, you feel so incredibly at ease. There is a sense of peace between you now and, even though you’re about to experience something incredibly intense, you are both finally free from the bonds of the outside world.

Now, it is only the two of you and, all the unresolved passion that needs tending to.

Yoongi leans his forehead against your own, his hands slowly moving towards the tie at the center of your robe. You can see that they are unstable, the breath that leaves his nose is proof of that but, he continues forth anyway until his fingers are beneath the bow.

“You’re sure?” He whispers, his breath hot on your lips, making you want to kiss him all over again.

Your hands come up then, cupping either side of his face as you pull away, eyes desperately searching his own, “Certain.”

With your confirmation, he pulls the tie forward, drawing the robe apart and revealing your bare body to him. You never allow your eyes to leave his face, wanting to capture every bit of his reaction.

When you come into view, his expression seems to collapse slightly, his lips immediately parting in awe. Doing the impossible, he tries to swallow again when you use your fingers to slide the robe the rest of the way off.

And without saying a single word, he drops to his knees right in front of you, his hands coming up to grip your hips. Looking up at you, he shakes his head in disbelief, entirely overwhelmed by your beauty.

“There isn’t a battle in the world that could have prepared me for you.”

His words knock the wind from your chest, your breath leaving your lips in an unstable burst when your hand comes out to touch his cheek. When you do, he smiles, with nothing but bliss present in his expression. He turns his face so that he can press his lips into your palm a few times before rubbing his mouth over the area. Your other hand comes into play then, brushing over the clips in his hair and then allowing your fingers to slide down the length of his ponytail.

Right before he speaks again, he drags his lips to your wrist and, nibbles at the skin there, his grin broadening when he hears the change in your breathing, “Will you take my hair down for me, darling?”

His request is nearing the likeness of a coo. It’s a tone you’ve never heard before but, you now know you’d do anything if he asked you with this voice.

You pull your hand from his face and, allow it to join your other one in gently removing the accessories in Yoongi's hair. They might add a level of luxury to his look but, you know for a fact you prefer him without them.

He is beautiful without any embellishments.

When you start on undoing the elaborate work in his hair, he rests his chin just beneath your belly button and, simply stares up at you. The intensity of his gaze actually makes your cheeks hot but, you do your best to continue taking down his hair, scratching at his scalp once you’re finished removing the clips.

His eyes close as you do, a low hum resonating in his throat at the sensation. Yoongi’s hands begin moving down the sides of your body whilst his lips pepper kisses all along your stomach. They’re wet and lacking urgency and, they send a wave of pleasure directly between your thighs.

“Your hair is so beautiful- you'll have to let me practice my skills on it one day...” You murmur with a smile, letting out a sigh as he takes a bite out of your hip.

“You may do whatever you wish with me...” Yoongi smirks, sponging his lips down towards the ache between your leg, “For however long you wish.”

“I wish to undress you-” You reply, coaxing his gaze up towards you, “and then maybe have a turn on my knees...”

At your comment, Yoongi takes another bite out of your hip, his eyes blazing with lust. And almost defiantly, he begins kissing towards the tuft of hair between your legs, his tongue licking and just barely tasting the skin above your core.

Your fingers are back in his hair when he buries his face in yours and, you hear him inhale deeply before exhaling with a groan.

“You smell so good…” He nearly whines, kissing over the mound of your pussy, “…wont you wait your turn? I want to taste you first.”

And it’s so unbelievably lewd isn’t it?

The two of you had only pecked each other’s lips and, your lover is still completely dress and yet, he is begging to bury his head between your legs.

“Before you’ve undressed?” You tease, trying to maintain some level of sanity but, the way he’s looking at you is making that an impossible feat.

He looks absolutely maddened.

His response comes in the form of his tongue, licking over the top of you whilst his hands grip the outside of your thighs to coax them apart.

“Do you want me to starve?” He accuses, a sense of darkness in his eyes. Before you’re able to answer, he licks up the length of your pussy, his fingers pressing into your flesh, “Hm?”

The lust that’s running through your body is peaking at dangerous levels from his touch but, the way he’s talking to you is sending you into frenzy.

You feel like you’re going to explode.

“No, of course n-“

He cuts you off then, his eyes nearly black with desire, “Then let me eat.”

Your head is on the pillows seconds later with Yoongi nudging your legs apart so that he can situate himself between them. The silk of his own robes tease across the surface of your sensitive skin with every movement of his body. He still seems to be taking in the rest of you with hungry eyes but, as soon as he uses his hands to part your legs, his gaze turns ravenous.

Bared before him, you can feel how wet you are when the cold air of the room hits the moisture between your lips. You’re positively drenched and, he hasn’t even touched you yet.

This fact doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi who is now smirking darkly betwixt your thighs. He says nothing as his index finger draws a line straight down the center of your pussy before curling towards himself as he follows it back up, collecting the evidence of your arousal.

Even in the dimly lit room, you can see the way you’ve drenched his finger but, he emphasizes the visual by rubbing his index against the tip of his thumb, only to pull them apart and display your arousal drawing a string between them.

Yoongi stares at you with slight quirk to his lips as he raises his fingers to his mouth. He makes a show of sucking each of his digits until his cheeks hollow out, his eyes closing at the taste of you.

Your cunt quivers at the sight of him, mouth parted in disbelief at how unbelievably good he looks.

When he pulls his lips from his fingers, he allows the smirk to form on his mouth once again before whispering, “Oh- I’m going to devour you.”

And then his head is buried between your thighs.

Yoongi’s tongue moves with contradiction, like lightening and mud all at once. He traces the tip of it around the circumference of your clit slowly but, sucks it into his mouth with fervor. In an effort to torture you with pleasure, he never does one movement for too long, knowing that this would draw you to your end far too quickly.

You can feel your breath leaving your lips at an unstable rate, your fingers searching for something to grasp onto. Yoongi has this covered of course, his hands reaching for yours before resting both of your intertwined digits on your hips.

His tongue continues to explore each fold of you. It’s as if he were collecting every ounce of moisture from your cunt before becoming determined to make you to make it all over again.

When Yoongi is satisfied with cleaning you up, he sets his sights on your clit, his tongue licking over the throbbing bundle of nerves three times before releasing his grip on of your hands and, placing one atop his head.

With an adoring glance, he slurs, “Use my mouth, darling. Show me how you like it…”

His gesture makes you let out a breath you had been unconsciously holding, your grip tightening in his hair at his request.

The sensation sends a shiver down his spine that he most certainly plans on addressing later. For now however, he is preoccupied with learning how you like to cum.

You tug his hair gently so his mouth his back over your clit and, slowly you move his head up and down. Ever the fast learner, he quickly picks up on the pattern you want and begins licking his tongue over the throbbing muscle.

The relief that comes with consistent pleasure finally pulls a moan from your lips, to which Yoongi immediately mirrors between your legs. You find yourself parting your legs further, your hips angling up to get closer to his mouth which only causes him to increase the pressure of his tongue.

The pleasure is mounting inside of your stomach like a hurricane and, for some buried reason, you bite your lip to attempt from crying out. Yoongi stops what he is doing and pulls his lips from you, which are completely soaked with your arousal.

His brows are drawn together in disappointment, his hair tickling your thighs as he shakes his head, “Oh please…let it out my love, no one can hear you but me.”

He pulls his tongue up the length of your clit slowly, his gaze nearly predatory as he reinforces his request, “Won’t you sing for me, darling?”

You nod, licking over your lips as you guide his mouth back to your cunt. He seems to work twice as hard now, flattening his tongue as he continues to rub it against your clit.

The muscles within your core are fluttering inside of you, your orgasm not far from reality. At Yoongi’s pleading you allow yourself to be more vocal, whimpering his name when he sucks at your clit.

He groans again at the sound of it, his fingers digging into your hips for the moment and then, suddenly pulling back. Eyes locking with yours, his wet lips get to work on lubricating his digits before positioning them at your entrance.

Yoongi licks his lips and, with a salacious look he says, “Deep breath…”

And try as you might, the feeling of his fingers curling up inside of you, yank the breath you attempt to take right from your throat.

“Ah-“ You preen, leaning up on your elbows to watch him fuck you with his fingers, “Oh Yoongi…yoongi…”

He grins up at you, securing his fingertips against the spongy tissue you inside of you whilst his other hand comes down to rub at your clit, “I shall ban anyone else from uttering my name, only you know how to say it correctly.”

With the increase in speed and pressure, you can feel something mounting inside of you that you’ve never felt before. You don’t quite know what it is, you just know that you’re going to make a mess.

Slightly panicky, your shaky hand reaches out for him, “These are clean linens…I feel like I’m going to soil them.”

The breathy and desperate nature of your tone goes straight to Yoongi’s throbbing erection but, instead of burying myself in you as he wants to, he merely increases the pace of his fingers.

“They will be much cleaner if you do, my love.” He assures you, his voice nearly cooing, “Just remember to say my name.”

His right hand is massaging against your clit at the perfect pace as his fingers curl up harder inside of you. The squelching sounds from your body would normally embarrass you under different circumstances but now, the pleasure is too overwhelming for you to care.

“Oh- oh Yoongi…yoongi…” You whine, your back arching off the bed as the dams inside of you break, your orgasm gushing out of your cunt in a way it never has. And although you can’t see him because your eyes are screwed shut, you feel Yoongi’s breath grow closer to your core until his mouth is back on your clit.

“Yoongi!” You whimper, toes curling into the sheets as he draws the pleasure from you.

He groans against you once again, his tongue repeating the same pattern you showed him earlier until you are shivering mess beneath him. Once he can sense you growing sensitive, he gets to work at slurping up every ounce of your release. His lips are sucking at your folds, your entrance, the inside of your thighs, nibbling and licking up every single thing you gave him.

With spotty vision, you anxiously reach down for him, suddenly despising the distance between you. He takes notice instantly, crawling up the length of your body and, placing kisses on every bit of you that he can.

Yoongi’s hair forms a platinum curtain around your head, which closes quickly when you grip the back of his neck to pull him down towards you. You meet each other’s lips with a type of hunger you now fear that you could never satisfy, tongues intertwining with desperation.

Ever so tenderly however, Yoongi his cupping your cheek and whispering sentiments to ease your overstimulated body.

“Shhh it’s ok, its ok my love.”

“You did so well.”

“You fed me so well.”

“I love you- I love you so much…”

With each phrase, he seals it with a kiss, the rest of his body settling between your legs and its then you are reminded that he is still clothed and, desperately hard.

“I love you too.” You whisper shakily against his lips, “I want to see you, I want to please you now…”

You’re practically begging, filled with disdain that his body is hidden from you, especially after you’ve just cum all over his face.

And he’s grinning against your lips, a rather sly look twinkling in his eyes, “And how do you plan on pleasing me?” He hums, kissing up the length of your nose.

“Well…” You begin, allowing a hand to travel down the black silk adorning his body before finding the solid length of his cock, leaning away from his hips. Smirking softly, you place your palm against him, relishing in the way he twitches up towards it, “You said you’d give me your soul didn’t you? I want it down my throat first.”

Your comment causes him to groan, hips pushing forward against your hand as he furrows his brow. Almost frantically, he stares down at you and shakes his head, “I know you think of me as a strong man but, I don’t think I could contain myself if you put your mouth on me- not with the taste of you still on my lips.”

Using your hand, you encase his length in the silk of his pants, squeezing gently as you move it up towards the tip of him. And you have his head hanging on his shoulders now, arms trembling beside your head whilst he tries to hold himself together.

“I don’t remember asking you to contain yourself. Those have always been barriers you designed.”

Yoongi looks up at you, eyes drawn in with a mix of pleasure and apprehension. When you squeeze him again, he shivers, a wanton groan leaving his lips. When he opens his eyes again, they look more nervous than when he stood before you at the end of the bed. In fact, it’s a look that you’ve never really seen before.

It compels your hand away from him slowly as your other one comes to cup his face, “What’s wrong?”

He breathes out a laugh, his mouth turned up at the corner, “Why is it that you can always find your way into my head and yet, I can never find my way into yours?”

You ignore his attempt to lighten the mood, your thumb brushing over the apple of his cheek, “Yoongi- what is it?”

The tone of your voice is gentle but, the look in your eyes compels Yoongi to bear his truth, no more how vulnerable he feels.

“My body is-” He sighs and restarts his sentence, leaning his face into your hand, “The last battle, it left me with many injuries. Most of them have healed but, I don’t want them to startled you.”

You sit up then, causing him to take a seat on the backs of his legs. Unable to help your saddened expression, you simply shake your head, “Yoongi, the only thing your body can be is beautiful. You have laid your life on the line for the people of this land, myself included. I could only ever love everything about the body that brought you home to me.”

With glassy eyes Yoongi is reaching out for you, placing a searing kiss upon your lips and, through it he murmurs “I have never let anyone undress me before…”

You kiss him once more and pull away a bit to lock eyes with him, “Do you trust me?”

And looking like a much younger man, his wide-eyed gaze full of innocence he nods, his hand coming up to brush against your cheek, “You’re the only one.”

His response accounts for several sentiments. His trust, his love, his dedication…

All meant for you.

“May I undress you then?”

His answer comes in the form of another kiss, lips attaching to yours with passion as his hands reach out for your fingers. He leads them to front of his robe, which covers the length of his tunic and his pants and urges you to remove it from him. Taking his lead, you push the material from his shoulders and, allow it to drop behind him before finding your way to the hem of his tunic.

The two of you find each other's eyes once again whilst you slowly draw the material up his torso. He follows your motions, lifting his arms above his head and placing them back by his sides when his tunic is removed.

The first thing you notice is his hair, flowing in prominent waves down his chest and, stopping just above his belly button. Then come his arms, strong and lanky all at once, much of their surface littered with the evidence of his missions. You can see what he meant and, you try to control your expression when you gaze upon the bruises and, cuts that have yet to heal.

You want to scold him for not acknowledging his injuries earlier so, that you could tend to them. But, you can clearly see that they have been taken care of by someone with much more skill.

His eyes are on you, searching for any sign of disapproval, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

He wish you could hear what you are thinking.

But just then, a soft smile comes over your lips as you carefully take his chin betwixt your fingers, “Just as I thought- you are molded from the gods, Min Yoongi. There has never been a man who contained more beauty.”

Your words hit his heart like a dagger, some of the air nearly forced out of his lungs. And he’s wanting to kiss you again, his lips desperately chasing yours before your hand comes to rest on his chest.

“Easy tiger…” You giggle, causing his lips to twitch into a smile, “I haven’t finished yet…”

He eases up, moving back into place with both of you still on your knees, facing one another. With tender hands, you move the tendrils of hair from his chest so that they flow freely down his back. His chest is fully exposed to you now, the swollen muscles beneath his pecks also displaying traces of the life he has lived.

Of the life he is finally able to leave behind.

Now, with just your fingertips, you trail your them across his clavicle, stopping for a moment at the ball of his shoulders before trailing them all the way to his wrists. A prominent shiver rattles through him, his hands twitching by his sides with the need to reach out and touch you.

But he doesn’t.

He stays perfectly still with only his eyes falling shut as you explore the surface of his skin. You take your time, dipping your fingers into the lines of his muscles, tracing the maze of veins beneath his skin, and smoothing your palms across the tops of his shoulders.

He’s properly turning to mush when you whisper, “Lay down…”

Like a man bewitched, he feels the urge to obey every command that comes from your lips and, commit every statement you make to memory.

He pushes his hair back, allowing it to settle on the pillows in various directions. And beneath you now, with his arms outstretched above his head, he looks like a king.

A sort of curve settles on his mouth when you position yourself between his thighs and, although he may look strong and confident beneath you, you can’t hear the way his heart is hammering in his chest.

Sex is familiar to Yoongi.

Intimacy however, is not.

Smoothing your palms down the muscles in his stomach, you use your fingers to hook under the band of his pants.

“You might need to help me with this part.” You smile and it only broadens as he chuckles, lifting his butt in the air and maneuvering his body so that he can help you pull the material down his legs.

Settling back into his position, Yoongi takes a deep breath whilst you take in the sight of him. He’s so hard. The skin of his dick, reddening towards the tip, the veins winding patterns up his shaft, the whole length of him begging to be touched.

“My, my- so the rumors are true…” You muse, slowly tickling your fingers up his inner thighs, which send his dick twitching in response.

His brow is furrowed however, wondering what you’re getting at and, you answer him before he ends up asking you.

“You do keep a viper on you at all times.”

And for the first time this evening, he is laughing. The full bellied and rickety sound leaves his lips as he wipes a hand over his face.

“You are incorrigible.”

His tone is disapproving but, his eyes are still filled to the brim with adoration. Because of course you would make this so easy for him.

Of course you would make love so easy.

All of his fears seem to mean nothing when he is with you, even when he is at his most vulnerable like he is now.

“And you, my dear Yoongi-“ Your tone lowers a bit as your brush your fingers over his balls, smirking when you see his chest puff out, “-are beautiful.”

With that, you lean down and lick slowly up the length of his cock, collecting the bit of precum that has collected on the tip. He tastes like the salt of the earth and, with that small bit of him- you now find yourself craving so much more.

His lips part, a sharp breath leaving the confines of his throat, his fingers quickly rushing to the sheets in anticipation. It’s been nearly half a year since he received any sort of pleasure from another person but, seeing as it’s now coming from the woman he loves, he is overwhelmed.

You are licking up the length of him again, your ass sticking up there for him to gaze upon as you slowly encircle his throbbing dick in your palm.

He is melting.

With his chest rising and falling unsteadily, Yoongi’s stare blazes right through you, when you suck him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck-“ He swears under his breath, the sound of that word coming from his lips sending an ache back to your core. You start him out slow, your cheeks hollowing out with the force of the suction you’re providing him.

His fingers toy helplessly with the linen beside him, the pleasure from your mouth numbing the tips of his toes.

With your free hand, you cup his balls, sighing through your nose at the almost desperate groan that leaves his mouth. He looks beautiful, his lips parted, stomach caved in at the pleasure he’s experiencing, his hands fisting in the sheets beside him.

“’sso good…” His brow is furrowed now, hips jolting a bit when you take him deeper towards your throat, “Be c- careful love, I don’t want to hurt you…”

But you don’t listen and, instead you continue your motions, your two fingers pressing behind his balls as you attempt to swallow his length.

“A-ah…” He throws his hand over his mouth, still slightly apprehensive at the sounds he wishes to make. You watch him as he breaths through the gaps in his fingers, eyes squeezing shut whilst you take him further down your throat.

He moans into his hand, his toes curling into the linen. And to address his attempt to conceal his sounds of pleasure, you simply walk your fingers across his trembling stomach and tap lightly.

Instinctually, he looks down at you- nearly cumming when you suck off of his length, your lips swollen and covered in saliva which you then spit back down on his dick.

Rubbing your lips against the sensitive underside of him, you coo, “We’re the only ones out here, my love. Let it out…”

He leans down, rubbing his thumb over your lips for the moment as he nods rapidly before allowing his head to hit the pillow again.

Chest heaving, he tries to prepare himself for your mouth all over again but, fails miserably. The pleasure is just so intense.

You waste no time in easing him back into your mouth, paying careful attention to relax your throat. He is confident, even in all of his years of sexual exploration, that he has never felt like this before.

He feels like he barely has a grip on his sanity and, when you take him down your throat- he has no choice but to whimper.

The sound only encourages you, your eyes unable to leave him as you watch his nipples harden, his stomach cave again, his eyes roll back…

“Fucking- fuck…fuck fuck…” He mutters through gritted teeth before his mouth parts again, “Please- don’t stop.”

Fucking him into your throat is no easy feat but, the sheer state of ecstasy he seems to be in, allows you to continue.

You rub at his hips, attempting to sooth him, your motions on his dick now becoming hands-free as his hips start pumping at their own pace. Despite the burn in your throat, you don’t ease up, wanting to see him overcome with the sensations, wanting to please him completely…

He shakes his head, eyes blown out and searching for an explanation as to why it feels so good but, he comes up empty.

Its just you.

Yoongi slams his head against the pillows, exposing his Adams apple when he swallows back the scream that wants to leave his chest. But when he feels his balls tighten and throb with his impending orgasm, he caresses your cheek.

“Please, my love- wait a moment…please…” He’s only pleading because it’s the only thing that can properly leave his mouth right now, for your motions on him have left him bewildered.

You’re careful to suck off of him cleanly, kissing the tip of his dick as you bat your eyes at him, “Are you alright?”

He’s smirking now, and a breathless laugh comes from his lips, “I think you’re well aware of how I’m doing.”

You giggle at his comment, kissing his dick again before resting your cheek upon his hip, “Then what is it?”

And with that same rather innocent, slightly humble look in his eye, he confesses, “I’ve always pictured being inside of you…the first time.”

In his earnest and rather proper way of explaining himself, you are simply taken over by your love for him.

He looks at you as if he is asking for the world but, little did he know- you would think nothing of giving him such a thing.

You’re kissing his hip now and starting a trail up his naked body. His hands come to life beside you and take their time caressing over your skin.

One last trail is place up the valley of his chest before your lips are hovering over his.

“Then be inside me.” You whisper into his mouth, sucking the bottom half of it into yours.

A deep growl resonates within his chest and, the next thing you know he is flipping you over, arms placed on either side of your head as he reconnects your lips.

Wildly, he kisses at you, allowing your tongues to intertwine in a somewhat disorganized fashion, neither of you concerned with rhythm at this point.

Yoongi is pulling away to take a look at you, silently reassuring himself that this beautiful creature below him, desires him too.

It’s slightly hard to wrap his brain around.

But as you raise your middle finger to the scar marring his right eye, you are breaking down the last of his concerns. He closes his lids beneath your touch, his chest tightening as you whisper,

“No more wounds, my love. I will make sure you feel only pleasure for the rest of your life.”

With a last and exasperated sigh, Yoongi guides himself inside of you in one quick motion.

“Oh-“ He breathes, his eyes widening as he chokes back a moan.

Your own moan is forced from your chest, Yoongi’s rhythm not giving you a chance to last very long.

He presses his forehead against yours, his mouth hanging open even as you kiss at it, hips quickening with each thrust inside of you.

“I love you.” You moan, whilst your hands come up to secure themselves behind his neck.

He is hurling towards his release so quickly, he fears the intensity of it, but the only thing he can tangibly focus on is confessing his love to you over and over.

“I will l-love you forever, it is a-all I will ever do for the rest of m-my life…”

Even as he stumbles over his words, his eyes never leave yours, pouring all of the emotion he feels into his movements.

He pours and he pours…

And you drink and you drink…

Until there is nothing left to do but surrender to one another.

The first rope of his release leaves his body with a jolt, his hips jerking forward and, immediately his eyes screw shut, his face burying into your neck.

You rub his back, kissing all along the side of his face as another hot spurt of cum leaves his cock.

“Oh Y/N…” He whines finally, sounding in pain and relieved all at once, “Y/N…Y/N…Y/N…”

He calls your name over and over and, somewhere along the edges of bliss, you tip over the edge too, digging your nails into his back as you do.

You seem to take turns saying the name of one another, the two of you riding out your highs for as long as possible until finally, your lover collapses on top of you.

In the stillness of the night, the only sound either of you allow is the rainfall atop the roof and, the whispering sound of your breathing.

For awhile, you just trace shapes into the skin of Yoongi’s back as his lips sponge into your neck and across your shoulder, or any part of you that he can reach. Moments later, his concern for his bodyweight upon you takes precedence and, he finally rolls over, the two of you wincing at the loss of contact.

You quickly take your place atop his chest as he leans over to the bedside table and, grabs the goblet of water waiting there. There was one on either side when you came in and, you assumed the staff had put them there.

Yoongi takes a deep breath and, attempts to steady his hand as he brings the goblet towards you but, to no avail.

His hand continues to shake.

Placing your hand around his, you try to assist him as a soft bout of laughter leaves your lips, “You’re trembling.”

And with waves of messy hair framing his beautiful face, he simply grins and corrects you, “I am in love.”

He raises the glass to your lips and, admires you when you take several big gulps, feeling good that he is able to take care of you.

His reply sends butterflies into your stomach, which seems like a rather impossible feat considering the fact that they had taken up a permanent residence there months ago.

When the Tiger moved into your life…

You usher the glass towards his lips with a soft smile, feeling so much happiness at the peace present in his eyes.

“As I’m I.” You whisper, rubbing your hand over his hip as he drinks the rest of the water in the goblet. There is also a sense of exhaustion in his gaze however and, you are met with the reminder that he probably hasn’t slept properly in months.

Your telepathy pays off once more as Yoongi addresses the heaviness upon his lids.

“I always pictured this to end with one of our elaborate existential conversations…” He chuckles softly, laying back on the pillow. Before he continues, he is reaching up to brush his thumb over your lips, “…but I do believe you’ve drained me of energy for now, my girl.”

A kiss is placed against his thumb, “Sleep now. We have plenty of time to question our existence.”

Yoongi chuckles again, using the hand that’s on your face to pull you closer to him. He kisses you one last time, ensuring that it reaches your soul before he’s puling you beneath the covers with him.

The last thing you remember before drifting off is another exchange of those three words.

The three words you would never grow tired of saying.

Yoongi sleeps well past sunrise. His chest rises steadily beneath your head for the better part of the morning and, although you want to wait it out, your desire to see the view from the balcony finally overtakes you.

You’re careful not to wake the sleeping man beneath you as you slip out of his grip. And as you’re pulling on the silk robe he had left discarded the night before, you take the time to admire him. Cheeks puffed out, lips pouted, brow smoothed over, none of his features containing a single ounce of worry…

You planned on keeping him this content for as long as you both shall live.

The mid-morning air was cold but, it felt nice upon your skin. Sleeping with Yoongi was new and, you now know that he emits as much body heat as a fully grown bear.

Or a Tiger…depending on who you ask…

This of course is wonderful, especially given how harsh winter can get but, you were growing quite warm beneath his arm.

The balcony was simple. It was painted the same color as the rest of the villa: a deep cherry red and, other than a few plants in the right corner, there was nothing else aside from the view.

Overlooking the grounds of the villa, the balcony displayed all of the elaborate architecture as well as the natural aspects of the grounds themselves. You set your eyes on the mountains to the left of you and, are overcome with excitement at the thought of them being covered in snow.

A hawk flies high above your head, his call echoing off every surface around of the villa, connecting the two of you for that single moment. As your eyes move to admire the thick expanse of trees before you, a pair of strong silk-covered arms wrap around your waist.

And normally, you would jump in surprise but, this time you don’t.

You could sense him staring at you for quite a while now but, rather than disturb him, you just let him have his moment.

Most of your moments would be spent staring at him if you had it your way.

“I had feared for a moment that I had only dreamt of you again…”

The tone of his morning voice is much deeper and covered in gravel, the sound sending a shiver through you. You lean back against him, lips curving up in a smile.

“We are finally alone, General Min.” You assure him softly, rubbing over his forearms. He kisses up your neck, causing your eyes to shut, just basking in the feeling of him.

Of the man you love.

“Well-“ And you can hear the grin in his voice, “Not completely alone.”

You open your eyes, confused by his response but as you try and look back at him, he is jerking his head towards the trees. At first you are confused by the amazed expression on his face but, when you see the mix of orange and black moving through the forest in the distance, you gasp in understanding.

“Is that?”

“A tiger?” He chuckles and when you look back once more, to confirm your suspicion, he winks at you, “It most certainly is.”

“Should we be worried?” You breathe, quite amazed yourself. The tiger doesn’t seem agitated from what you can tell, they merely move through the trees slowly- seemingly locked onto a destination.

“No, this one I have seen before.” He replies confidently, “They maintain their distance just fine…” Yoongi pauses for a moment and, then smiles to himself, “Unless of course, he falls in love…then we’ll never get him to leave.”

[girls4keigo]

A Bird Whisperer’s Guide to Fighting Villains and Falling in Love | Hawks x Hero!Reader

Summary: Hawks needs help to defeat an upcoming hero attack in Tokyo. What better hero to ask than the one he’s been crushing on for months

Warnings: F!Reader, Hero!Reader, Fluff, Cursing

Reader plays hard to get. Reader has a nature quirk and can control natural elements and talk to animals. Reader is a popular hero

a/n: hi! this is my first post i hope you all enjoy! :)

————

You sighed, trying to keep your composure while talking to a bunch of big name heroes. The fundraiser events that your agency made you go to were unbearable. Standing around for hours listening to the most mundane heroes try to impress you with their line of work. But hey, if it helps boost approval ratings I guess it’s not that bad.

For the past year you’ve slowly been climbing the ranks of the hero world. With a powerful quirk and unique fighting styles it was hard to go unnoticed. By now you were familiar with how the industry treated female heroes. It seemed as if the general public cared about anything but your hero duties.

It was all love, relationships, “Who are you dating?”, “What’s your skincare routine?”

You honestly didn’t expect any different but geez, it sure did piss you off. And now that you were in the top 3, you weren’t expecting any of it to die down. Might as well just get used to it.

You continued to chat when suddenly your ear twitched as you sensed a certain birdie approaching.

Oh God.

“Hey. Mind if I steal ya away for a little?” Hawks’ signature smirk appeared on his face as he approached you.

Hawks seemed to really be latching onto you for quite some time, well since the new hero rankings were announced. You were on your way to surpassing the number 2 hero and had gained a lot of notoriety in the past couple of months. 

He was clingy for sure, always play flirting, inviting you to lunch, showing up at your agency unannounced. It was obvious that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. You’d be surprised if he admitted to actually having feelings for you. Well, not that you cared anyways. Your job was to save civilians, defeat villains, and do things that any other normal hero would. Love was simply not on your agenda.

Holding back a heavy sigh, you complied and stepped off to the side with Hawks.

He seemed delighted by your decision, using his feathers to fetch you a glass of champagne off of one of the caterer’s trays as you two walked over to the bar area.

“So your agency makes you come to these lame things too, huh?”

You didn’t answer, not very interested in the direction that the conversation was going in.

“You look nice.” He bit his lower lip, dragging his eyes vertically across your figure.

“Thank you.” You replied, taking a sip of your champagne.

After you both had made your way over to the bar he instructed his order to the bartender, asking you if you wanted anything and keeping the same dumb smirk on his face when you denied.

“Rarely ever see you in a color other than green. I mean, I guess it’s your entire thing but I really dig this red look you’ve got goin’ on” He mused, as he watched the bartender carefully make his drink.

He wasn’t lying. He’s been eyeing you since you walked in, you look good.

“What do you want, Hawks?” You asked, visibly annoyed.

“Damn.” He chuckled, “Small talk isn’t your thing, noted.”

You side-eyed him, getting impatient with his overly relaxed demeanor.

Catching the hint, he got straight to the point. “There’s some trouble going on in Tokyo.”

Now you were intrigued. You took another sip of your champagne, “Petty villain attacks like always, isn’t it?”

You turned towards him, he got a good look at your face before he answered.

Fucking pretty, he thought to himself.

“That’s what I thought at first but it’s getting harder to believe that as I do more digging.” He looks around before inching closer to you, trying to keep his volume to a minimum. “The League is planning something big next week. The ‘Rain of Terror’, they’re callin’ it. They’re trying to ease the amount of big attacks in the city to let our gaurds down. And frankly, I think it’s working.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “How do you know all of this?”

“I’ve got connections,” Was all he said, with a shrug.

Ok, whatever. You’ll confront him about that later. “And this ‘Rain of Terror…’ what does it entail?”

“Bombs.”

“Shit,” You muttered.

“Big ones. Huge ones, actually. I don’t know how the fuckers did it but they found a way to make these huge, bioengineered clouds that ‘rain’ bombs.”

You grew uneasy. Raining bombs? Over the entirety of Tokyo? The amount of destruction it would do to the earth, to civilians, made you panic. Hawks sensed your uneasiness but continued anyways, “I want us to team up. Your quirk would be useful with the entire controlling nature n’ weather thing.”

He loosened up from his serious expression, talking a bit louder and showing a teethy smile, “Plus I think we’d make a pretty good team. I’ve already got a plan so we’ll meet up at yours tomorrow.”

“As in my house? Why not anywhere else?” You questioned.

“Well,” He grabbed his drink and used his free hand to rub the back of his heck, “This isn’t really the typa thing we can talk about in public. Mass hysteria, panic, that type of thing. And my living situation is pretty…complicated right now.”

You felt a small tap on your shoulder, followed by the voice of your high school aged sidekick. You turned to the younger hero. “Uh..Y/N? It’s time to go. I gotta be back by 11.”

You sighed before turning back to Hawks.

“Kids and their curfews, right?” He commented.

“Fine. I’ll have my agency send you my address. Don’t come during the day.” That was the last thing you said before finishing your drink all in one quick sip and making your way to the exit. You could feel his eyes on your backside until you left the venue. And the singular scarlet feather rushing in front of you to open the car door for you was really the cherry on top.

You rolled your eyes.

“Woah.” Your sidekick mused, “He seems to really like you. You should give him a chance, he’s hot.”

You giggled at her comment, “He doesn’t really like me, y’know? He flirts with every female hero.”

—

You heard a slight tap on the window leading up to your balcony. You already sensed him flying towards you when he was about a mile away, but your bedroom? Reluctantly you walked over and opened the sliding door.

“Never heard of a front door?”

“Well that’s no fun, is it?” He said, displaying his signature smirk. You looked cute out of your hero clothes. Hair tied up and messy, and in big comfy clothes.

Adorable, he thought to himself. He walked in as if it was his own befroom, slipping off his shoes, gloves and jacket and placing them in the corner of your room.

“Make yourself comfortable I guess.” You deadpanned at him, “And we’re still going downstairs anyways.” He shrugged.

He couldn’t help but be taken aback by the layout of your room. There were plants in almost every corner, on every shelf. Vines growing on your walls, half read books strewn across your bedside table and dresser, your pet birds of all different shaped and sizes flew freely around your room, chirping every once in a while. “So you’re a bird whisperer, huh?” He said, looking around.

“I’m an animal whisperer.” You said, “That’s kind of like my entire thing.”

He let out a hearty laugh before making his way out of your room.

“Tea?” You asked, heading towards the kitchen as the winged hero made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Sure.” He picked up your remote with one his feathers, flicking through the channels.

He turned his attention to you a couple moments later as you took a seat across from him at your coffee table, setting down two mugs of green tea.

He explained his plan carefully, paying close attention to all details and pausing for any questions you might have. You had to admit, as much as an annoying asshole this guy could be, he knew what he was doing. You could tell he plans his strategies very carefully, as much as he likes to come off as lazy and laid back to the general public. He was a damn good hero. And you hated admitting it but he was right, utlizing his speed and your ability to control weather, it wouldn’t be all that hard to stop villain attacks.

Hawks also couldn’t help but admire you. You seemed attentive, always paying close attention to detail and asking a lot of questions. I mean he already knew you were good at your job, watching some of the viral videos of your fights with villains.

—

When the day finally came, it went as smoothly as planned, of course with a little bumps along the way. Still, the few civilians that were hurt only had minor injuries, and you and hawks made it so only a couple bombs hit the ground.

You, Hawks, and some other minor heroes who had joined mid-battle regrouped to talk about how to resolve the collateral damage.

“It’s not too much to be honest, I’ll have it all repaired by midni-“

“Wow! What an incredible display of courage from Hawks and Mother Nature, currently sitting at number 2 and number 3 of Japan’s Hero BillBoard Chart!” A loud reporter exclaimed, accompanied by a camera crew.

Of course.

You tried your best to ignore and keep talking to fellow heroes until a microphone was shoved in your face. The face of the reporter gleamed as she talked to you. “Tell me Mother Nature, how does it feel working with number 2 hero Hawks?” You winced at the question, but answered nevertheless.

“Hawks is a  diligent hero with a lot of experience under his belt despite being so young. It was great working with him.” You answered, forcing a smile on your face.

“There’s speculation that you two planned this together..is this true? How were you able to predict this attack? More importantly, are you two dating?” Those questions hit you like a truck.

“Um..no comment.” Was all you could answer with.

Nevertheless, the reporter persisted, “Well there has to be something going on. It’s just my opinion but you two seem perfect for each other.” She giggled at the camera, “Please! The public is dying to know!”

Before you could even muster up an answer to the reporter’s overwhelming question, a giant scarlet wing came between you and the reporter, blinding both her and the camera from your view.

“Hey. She said she doesn’t wanna talk about it. Let’s respect personal boundaries, yeah?” Hawks said in a nice but slightly defensive tone.

You blushed, looking up at him. As nice we he was trying to sound, he looked angry. And damn right he was. How dare they talk to you like you’re no more than just some D-list celebrity? You’re a fucking hero, who cares about dating speculation when you just saved Japan’s largest city? And how dare they ask questions about him when you were the one doing most of the work. He was enraged, and it was his natural instinct to protect the thing he cared for.

Before you knew it, he latched his arms around your waist, pushing you into his chest.

You were flustered. “What are you-“

“Let’s go.” Was all he said before flapping his wings, sending you guys soaring through the air.

You held on to him for dear life, damn was he fast.

Hawks smirked to himself, feeling your rapid heartbeat against his chest. You were trying your best to hide your blushing by burying your face in his neck, granted that probably made it worse because he could already tell by how hot your face was.

God, she’s adorable

As soon as you two landed on top of a building, you pushed him away as quickly as possible.

He chuckled, putting both of his hands up in defense, “You’re the one making this awkward y’know? Plus you owe me for saving your ass.”

You were angry. Was it because of the downright rude questions that the reporter asked you not too long ago, was it because you knew tabloids would be posting all about you and Hawks for the next couple of days, was it because you were..warming up to that damned bird?

And then you started. “Just so you know, this..us..is not a thing. It will never be a thing. I wish you’d just stop flirting with me all the damn time. Just move on to the next female hero. I actually don’t care what you do. Just leave me alone. I don’t understand why you have to be so clingy, it’s annoying.”

Hawks did nothing but smile, listening to you ramble.

“You know…I-“ He interjected, only to be interrupted by you.

“And geez, you’re so goddamn entitled. I owe you? I don’t owe you anything. I didn’t even need your help. You’re no different from any other guy, you’re fucking insuffer-“

Hawks shut you up with a gentle kiss on your lips.

Oh.

“You talk too much.” He said in a low whisper, before pulling on your chin to kiss you again. You kissed him back, resting your hands on his chest, completely indulging in the moment.

Fuck. Your knees were weak. As much as you wanted to keep going you pulled away, blushing furiously and refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Oh? So now you’re shy?” He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. He tried to catch your gaze but you just moved your head away from him each time.

“Someone might see us. This is bad,” You were able to muster out.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He said, making you blush even more. He continued, “I don’t flirt with you for no reason, y’know? Sure, sometimes it’s just to tease..but I think you’re amazing.”

You felt like you were melting in his arms. Unable to find the right words, you panicked. You were gone in seconds, manipulating the wind so it could carry you back home, the same stupid blush unable to leave your face.

“Call me!” He yelled.

That damn bird.