#oops it’s 10k words did not mean for that to happen

[0vergrowngraveyard]

“Come on, guys!” For three of the fastest mobians on the planet, you sure are going pretty slow!”

“Those are fighting words, Ames!”

The girl in question stuck her tongue out before turning around and skipping down the cobblestone street. Sonic shook his head and looked back at Tails and Knuckles who were a little ways behind him. The fox was talking about a little gizmo he was putting together back at their room while the echidna listened. He whistled at the two, successfully getting their attention, and jerked his head towards Amy as a silent “hurry up, slow-mos”. The boys caught up to the giddy hedgehog who basically dragged them down the street once they were in grabbing distance.

———————————————————————

i didn’t meet my “post it before the sonic 3 trailer” goal but one day later isn’t that bad! anyway chapter 1 is finished!

[junkissed]

leaning on the everlasting arms

member — childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader genre — angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au word count — 10.3k (my first fic over 10k wowie!!) synopsis — as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you. content warnings — female reader, she/her, reader is implied to be smaller (i'm sorry), discussion of gender roles & religion, no religion is mentioned by name but it's heavily implied to be a form of christianity, reader & shua are both seniors in college, reader wears skirts/dresses but not really by choice, this whole thing is pretty blasphemous oops smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, virgin!joshua x virgin!reader, mutual masturbation, phone sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (reader receiving), hints of a voice kink, size kink, praise, begging, really vanilla missionary but it's hot, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, angel) notes — although i am no longer religious, this is partially based off of my own experiences with the extremely traditional christian church i was raised in. however, please keep in mind that this is fiction and does not reflect my beliefs nor joshua's beliefs so don't take the plot too seriously. this piece is not meant to discuss whether certain religions are "right" or "wrong" so please do not comment/send me asks trying to start a debate! we're all just here for a little sexy time with shua it's not that deep note #2 — for those who aren't familiar, the title is the name of a hymn and i thought it was funny bc joshua big sexy arms hehehe

as far back as you could remember, joshua was your closest friend.

his father was the pastor of the church your family went to, and as luck would have it you were both in the same grade, so it wasn’t long before you became inseparable. you saw him at minimum three times a week: sunday morning, sunday evening, wednesday evening.

you spent most of your childhood together. sitting next to each other at every service, sharing your bibles with each other whenever one of you left them at home, sneaking donuts away from the box at the table outside the sermon hall that was supposed to only be for the adults.

you did everything together, and told each other everything. that is, until you reached middle school. boys and girls weren’t allowed to sit in the same services anymore, and you had to stay in separate buildings for every church camp and conference. 

the worst part was you didn’t even understand why. what did they think you were gonna do with him? kiss him? no amount of money in the world could get you to do that! joshua was your best friend. who else were you supposed to climb trees and build forts and sneak donuts with? kissing was stupid.

when you asked your mom about it, she told you the same thing everyone else did: about how men of god had a different path and needed to hear different messages in order to grow up to lead their own churches one day. you thought it was stupid. what if a woman wanted to lead a church, why are men the ones that have to do it? but she would just shake her head and tell you it's just the way things work in the church, you'll understand when you're older.

you were allowed near him less and less until the only time you were able to see him was at the after-service brunch with his family, and even then that began to happen less and less as the years went on.

and of course it was church rules, so there was no arguing with them because that would mean arguing with god, and who were you to question his authority? there would be no special exception for you, no matter how much you protested to your mom that you would never, ever think about joshua like that. in a fit of anger one day you blew up at her, shouting that she had had friends of the opposite gender when she was in high school, so why couldn’t you? it wasn’t fair. but she had just sighed and stared out the window, clearly ending the conversation. many years passed before she finally told you about her life before she came to church, recalling all the times she had been hurt by men she had loved and trusted. you understood then why she had wanted to keep you sheltered and safe, but you still didn’t agree. but then again, if you had been allowed to do what you wanted then maybe things would never have ended up the way they did. perhaps you have her to thank.

back then, all you could do was hold on to the little time you had with him until eventually you stopped seeing him altogether. 

more summers passed and you started spending all of your time memorizing bible verses with your fellow “women of christ”, missing the way you used to spend your time with your best friend.

but then you went off to bible college like had always been planned for you, and everything changed. instead of continuing to follow the strict schedule that was laid out for you, you finally got a little taste of freedom, and you realized what you’d been missing all this time. everything that you’d been taught was sinful, evil, wicked, was what brought you more pleasure than you’d ever known was possible.

you still had to pretend to be a good girl for the people around you, who, for reasons you couldn’t comprehend, were still dedicated to their life of purity. or at least they acted like it. maybe everyone was secretly just like you, hiding their sins behind a friendly smile and a firm handshake every sunday morning.

you weren’t hurting anyone with the things you did in private, and the feeling of rebellion was a kind of satisfaction you didn’t know you were allowed to feel. you were an adult, making your own choices now and facing whatever consequences that came with them.

there was only one consequence. for some reason, all the impure thoughts you had always centered around joshua. no matter what dirty books you read or videos you watched, the man you always pictured giving it to you was joshua.

you hated that after all these years, everything still came back to him. you fought it, tried imagining actors or celebrities in his place instead; characters from your books and movies and shows, anyone but him. you wanted to save whatever memories you had left of him, think of him in a good light like you used to when you were younger, but the way he plagued your mind was worse than the ones in the book of exodus.

but now, in your final year of college, you thought you had finally gotten yourself under control.

that is, until you were leaving one of your bible lectures and all the control you’d convinced yourself that you had crumbled away in mere seconds when you saw a startlingly familiar face standing by the door. a face you hadn’t seen in far too long. 

“joshua?”

“hey,” he says with a smile, like no time has passed at all. like it’s been hours since you’ve seen each other, not years. 

there are so many things you want to say, so many things you want to ask him, but you’re frozen in place. why is he here? where has he been? how did he find you again?

“it’s been a while,” he says with an awkward laugh when you don’t say anything.

you nod, still in a daze. “yeah. quite a while.”

he smiles. “well, anyway, i’ve got a meeting to go to in a bit, but… i just wanted to see you.”

“oh,” you say. what else is there to say? what can you say to make up for the years lost that you’ll never get back?

he looks at his watch, the conversation clearly coming to an end.

“can i give you my phone number?” he says. a deep shade of pink creeps into his cheeks but he either doesn’t notice or purposely doesn’t acknowledge it. “maybe we can talk sometime, catch up.”

“i– yeah,” you manage. god, it’s so good seeing him again. “yeah, that would be really nice.”

you’ve given up on homework for the night, spending your entire afternoon in a daze since you ran into joshua.

so many years, yet you still can’t get his smile out of your head.

you close your eyes, hand dipping below the waistband of your pajama pants automatically. it’s frightening how easily you’re able to bring up a picture of him in your mind, so much clearer than before now that you’ve seen what he looks like all grown up.

and grown up, he has. you had been too stunned to get a good look at him while he was in front of you, but the way he’d changed was immediately apparent and the image in your brain now feels almost unreal. 

his hair was a little longer and a little darker, and he was much taller, with broad shoulders that looked way too perfect in a suit jacket. but his face hadn’t changed a bit. maybe his jaw was a little bit sharper and his smile lines were a little bit deeper, but his eyes were the same ones you had always known. 

your hand slips lower and lower until you’re gently running the tips of your fingers over the panel of your underwear covering your pussy, moaning quietly when you feel how wet you are already.

no wonder it’s been so hard for you to focus all day. you’ve been too busy pushing away thoughts of joshua burying his fingers in your tight, wet cunt, cooing about how good you’re being for him and how long he’s waited for you.

automatically you feel your other hand grabbing for your phone, desperate to hear his voice again. you hadn’t said more than a few sentences to him earlier, but you feel like you’ll go crazy if you don’t hear him while you’re in this state. so needy for him and only him, and he doesn’t even know it.

your fingers shake as you press the buttons, knowing you’re about to get yourself into a whole world of trouble but not being able to stop yourself.

“hey.” he answers on the second ring. his tone is deep and husky, and your breath catches in your throat for a second, not used to hearing him talk like that; the last time you heard his voice was long before puberty, and you’re still navigating how to talk to this older, sexier joshua.

your first thought is to wonder if his morning voice sounds equally as sexy, but you’re immediately pushing it out of your head when you hear what sounds like him stifling a yawn.

“sorry, did i wake you? it– it’s not important,” you start, ashamed of how needy you are that you’d call him in the middle of the damn night, unprovoked, like some kind of bible group booty call.

the regret is already starting to set in. he probably hasn’t changed as much as you've built him up in your mind, probably still the obedient gentleman he was before. he’s probably already well on his way to being the head of a church, so of course he wouldn’t be thinking about you like that—

“no. it’s fine,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “always have time for you, sweetheart. what’s up?”

you shove down the butterflies that flutter up in your stomach at the name he calls you, a nickname he always called you when you were kids because he was taught it was always polite to talk sweet to a lady. 

except it feels so much different now. talking sweet to a lady as kids was easy, innocent. but one wrong word now would completely change the meaning behind those pretty words of his, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it.

“i… just– it’s been so long, joshie,” you whisper, surprised at the sudden feeling of tears springing up behind your eyes. you didn’t mean for this to happen— you didn’t mean for any of it to happen. not back then, and certainly not now.

he lets the line go quiet, finally sighing into the phone after a long pause. “i missed you… so much.” he murmurs your name, and the way the rumble in his voice goes straight through you immediately reminds you why you called him in the first place.

your free hand toys with the hem of your underwear again, fighting to keep down the whimper that threatens to escape you. “missed you too,” you breathe out. god, you can’t believe you’re doing this. but for the first time in years, the man you’ve been picturing in your head is right here with you, fulfilling some of your fantasies that you never thought could ever come true.

somewhere deep in your stomach you feel guilty about it, getting off to the thought of him and he doesn’t even know it. would he want to know? would he be okay with it? would he hate you forever if he knew?

he clears his throat, snapping you back to attention and you realize you must’ve been silent for a while, thinking.

“um, so, what are you doing?” you ask, trying to seem casual, but it comes out as anything but. nobody calls anyone this late at night and asks what they’re doing without having a dirty reason for doing so. 

all you can do is hope he’s either too innocent to pick up on it, or that he doesn’t believe you’re the type of person who would call for something like that. you wonder if he still thinks of you as that perfect little obedient church girl he grew up with.

“nothing, just–working on… stuff,” he replies awkwardly. clearly he doesn’t want to go into detail about what he’s doing, and you’re already afraid you’ve interrupted his sleep; you’re mentally kicking yourself for all the blunders you’ve made, and you haven’t even been on the phone for five minutes.

“what are you doing?” he asks back, and you freeze, trying to come up with some excuse, anything. fuck, think of something!

“h-homework,” you sputter out, attempting to hide your unconfident answer with a cough.

apparently it works, because he hums in response, the line falling quiet. you hear the rustling of papers on his end, and you press your fingers harder against your cunt, heartbeat racing in your ears.

your fingers brush against your clit a little rougher than you intend, and a little whine escapes your lips, catching you off guard. you slap a hand over your mouth, hoping it had been too quiet for him to hear and he hadn’t been paying attention.

“are you…?” he asks suddenly, and your cheeks flush, caught red-handed in your sinful act.

you clear your throat, praying (both metaphorically and literally) that he doesn’t notice anything off about you. “am i what?”

his silence on the other end of the phone speaks volumes.

“joshua, oh my god, no, i–”

“what did you just say?”

you freeze. “what… did i say?”

when he speaks again, his tone is even. “don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”

that nickname again, and now you know he’s doing it on purpose. innocent, pretty words, completely changed in a split second.

you let out a short laugh, scrambling to find a cover. “must’ve forgot then.”

he hums. “i remember you spent a whole month trying to memorize the ten commandments. we must’ve been what, eight or nine? you wouldn’t have forgotten. i may not have seen you since we were kids, but i’ve still known you most of my life.”

“it was an accident, you know how it is. just slips out. of course i remember them all.”

he tsks, and it feels like your heart stops. “did you forget that lying is a sin, too? you’re two for two now, wanna try for a third?”

damn him! damn his good memory and damn his stupid witty comebacks and damn the way he so quickly manages to unravel you.

you scowl and don’t respond to his question, your silence enough of an answer for joshua to know he’s right.

“why did you call me tonight?” he asks calmly.

you answer truthfully this time. “just wanted to hear your voice again. i really did miss you.”

the phone goes quiet again, and for a second you’re afraid he’s hung up, but then you hear him exhale. “it’s late. what are you doing?”

“i’m in bed, josh. don’t worry, father, i’m not staying up past my bedtime.”

he chooses to ignore your remark. “in bed doing what?”

you give him a half-suppressed laugh. “in bed laying down. what else would i be doing?”

“well, with the way you were trying to hide your moans earlier, i would’ve figured you were doing something more exciting. but if you’re just laying down, then i don't want to keep you long, might as well hang up…”

“no!” you squeak out, cutting him off. you swallow, trying to collect yourself as you repeat the word. “no. fine, whatever, you caught me. but– please, stay.” you can hear the plea in your voice and you know you should be embarrassed at how pathetic you sound, but you aren't. the only thing you can think about is joshua, joshua, joshua, and how good it feels to talk to him again.

“i’m here,” he says softly, and you let your eyes close with a sigh, relieved he’s not going to chastise you. but as much as you’ve both changed as you grew up, deep down you knew he wouldn’t. you figure you could do just about anything and he wouldn’t try to tell you what to do. he’d always been like that, and it’s what you’d loved about him; he never tried to control you or shame you for not acting like the perfect little angel everybody wanted you to be. 

you couldn’t say the same about others in the church. maybe that’s why you’d started to drift away from them and why joshua’s friendship coming to an end had left you so devastated. he had been the one and only person you could always count on, and they had not.

“are you still there?” he asks gently, and you realize you’ve been quiet for too long thinking.

“yeah,” you say finally.

“are you still touching yourself?”

you pause, stifling a gasp, taken aback by his forwardness. hearing him say it out loud made everything seem so real, the realization setting in about what you’re actually doing. “n– no.”

and it’s true. your hand has long since dropped away from your pajama pants, too nervous about being discovered to continue.

“well, why not?” he says. “don’t stop on my account.”

your mouth falls open. “i–”

“clearly you wanted something from me when you called. what is it, sweetheart? i can’t help you if i don’t know what it is you want.”

your brain practically short circuits at that, and it takes a very long minute for you to collect your thoughts into a coherent sentence. you want a lot of things, but you don’t know what’s okay to say or not or if he even wants to keep going. which is a silly thought, because he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to know. it dawns on you that maybe… maybe he’s curious, maybe he’s thinking about you, too.

“what kind of help?” you ask, still testing the waters. you think you have an idea of what he means, but you ask anyway. you’ve never done anything like this with anyone else, only by yourself; not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t want it to be with someone who wasn’t joshua.

“you said you wanted to hear my voice,” he says, and you swear his tone has dropped an octave. “then let me talk to you.”

you whine a little, still holding back but not putting in as much effort to hide it. “m’kay.”

“would it make you feel better if i told you i’m hard right now?”

you suck in a breath. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he says. “just thinking about you.”

you feel a rush of emotion at his admittance. pride? satisfaction? whatever it is, it makes your cunt throb, knowing that just the thought of you can get him going.

finally you dare to slide your hand down your pants again, unsurprised when you find your underwear sticking to you with how wet you are. you’re soaking, and you haven’t even done anything yet.

“hold on,” you manage, putting the call on speaker as you set your phone on the table beside your bed, scrambling to shove your pants and ruined panties off and onto the floor.

once free, you pick up your phone and turn off the speaker, holding it to your ear with shaky hands.

“all ready now?” he asks softly, and it reminds you of what he used to say before you’d play pretend games together. always making sure you were ready. he was hot back then, too, and you mentally curse yourself for never realizing it sooner.

you hum. “mhm. comfortable.”

“good,” he says, and you can almost hear him smiling. “go ahead and do whatever you’d like. but i want you to tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”

you squirm a little on the bed as you start to circle your clit with your fingers. “thinking about you, joshua,” you sigh, finally beginning to feel relief.

“yeah?”

“yeah. you look even better than i thought you would,” you groan, picking up your pace a little as you slip your index finger inside your walls.

he chuckles. “oh, really?”

“mhm. god, i never thought i’d be doing this. especially not with you.”

“and why is that, baby?”

the name makes you shiver. you’d imagined him calling you it many times, but hearing him actually say it is completely different.

“because—” you whimper, losing your train of thought when your brain suddenly pictures his fingers inside you instead of your own. “i’m so close already, please—”

his tone is gentle but firm. “i want you to stop now.”

“but– ah, feels so good, shua,” you say, moans spilling out of you, finally letting him hear everything you’ve been holding back.

you hear him curse in that low voice through the phone, and your hand stills for a split second in shock, your eyes widening. as far as you knew, he never swore. but then again, there were a lot of things he never did that you're discovering about him now. looks like you weren’t the only one who changed over the years.

“that’s not my name.”

you sit up a little in confusion, pushing your phone closer to your ear to make sure you’re hearing him right. “huh?”

“my name is joshua. if you’re gonna moan like a sinner about how good it feels when i tell you how to touch yourself, you better use my name properly.” he sounds almost angry, but it only spurs you on even further.

you let his words sink for a second before responding. “yes, sir.”

“fuck,” he moans, he actually moans, and if you weren’t already so far gone you would’ve stopped to listen closer, to ingrain the noise in your brain so you never again forget how he sounds. “what did i just tell you?”

“what, you don’t like being called ‘sir’? thought you wanted to be a pastor, joshua,” you say with a smirk, and you know he hears the mischief in your voice, daring him to give you what you want.

it’s probably a good thing he’s not physically in the room with you, because there's no way you would have been able to muster up the courage to say something like that to his face. you wouldn’t have dared to even look him in the eyes, but being on the phone gives you a head rush. because with only his voice and not seeing his face, you can convince yourself that he still isn’t real, that this whole phone call and even your meeting earlier had just been an elaborate figment of your horny imagination, your denial being the only thing saving your last shred of dignity.

“didn’t realize you’d grow up to be even more of a brat than you were before,” he scoffs, and your cunt pulses. 

“what are you doing right now?” you say, a little desperately. the change of subject isn’t very subtle but you don’t care. you won’t lie, you’ve been curious since the start of what he’s doing but he’s been so focused on you he hasn’t said anything about himself. you want to know everything about him— how he’s moving his hands, where he puts pressure, what he thinks about to get himself closer and closer.

he grunts unceremoniously. “i’m fucking my hand and pretending it’s you.”

“me too,” you whimper, closing your eyes as you focus on the movement of your fingers.

after a while he stops responding, and you can hear his heavy breaths over the line matching with your own gasps for air as you curl your fingers inside of you. you figure he must be getting close, but you ask him anyway, because you want to hear him say it.

“yeah– fuck, so close,” he chokes out, and the way his voice gets higher as he lets out a whimper is what finally makes you come undone.

with a moan of his name—his full name—you cum, clenching around your fingers as you struggle to keep your hand moving. your wrist is starting to cramp up a little from the position you’ve been in, but the pleasure coursing through you is more than worth it. it’s almost dizzying, more powerful than any orgasm you’ve had before and when you finally remove your fingers from your aching cunt your head is spinning and your heart is pounding.

you can hear a muffled string of curses through the phone and you know he’s right behind you. thoughts of him sitting on his bed run rampant in your head, imagining his stomach covered in milky cum and his pretty, pretty lips parted as he catches his breath.

the silence is heavy as you feel yourself come back down from your high. you struggle to find something to say after… whatever that just was, so you say the only thing that’s on your mind.

“i really did miss you, joshua,” you say quietly. unlike before, there’s not a hint of teasing in the way you say his name now.

and he sighs contentedly, finally hearing his name on your lips like he always wanted to. “i know. i missed you too.”

you both say your goodbyes and good nights quickly, still basking in enough of the remnants of your orgasms to not be too awkward about it. but after you’re settled in bed (for real, this time) and about to fall asleep, you can’t help but wonder if things between you and joshua will ever be anything but awkward.

a memory surfaces: you and joshua running around at the park behind the church after a sunday evening service, no older than kindergarteners, laughing and playing until you collapse on the grass. your mom called for you both to get ready to go home, and no you’re not allowed to have a sleepover because it’s a school night but maybe this weekend if his mom is okay with it. before you ran off, he thrust his pinky out towards you and you shook on it, making a pact to always be best friends, even when you can’t have sleepovers. it didn’t ever occur to either of you that there might come a day where you wouldn’t be best friends.

you don’t remember what prompted him to make the pinky promise, but you know he’s never broken it. and you can only hope that he hasn’t forgotten it.

it’s a few days later at one of your bible study groups when you see him next, and yet again you’re caught off-guard like a deer in headlights.

you’re sitting with a group of other ladies, annotating material for a test you couldn’t care less about when you hear your name called out– a familiar deep voice you can only pray doesn’t belong to who you think it belongs to.

oh, but it does belong to him, alright. it feels like you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you when you turn around and see joshua standing behind you, a warm smile on his face that makes you doubt anything ever happened. maybe it really was all just a delirious dream, too many years of yearning built up into one intense wet dream.

he puts a hand on your shoulder lightly, turning you away from the rest of the ladies. “hey, can we talk somewhere?”

and oh shit it was definitely not a dream.

your cheeks burn as you excuse yourself from the table, packing up your bible and pens and shoving everything in your bag as quickly as you can. you can almost hear the snickering already, the gossips whispering to each other that you must have done something unspeakable if the top-student, pastor’s son, joshua hong has to speak with you privately. ah, if only they knew.

you only wish you could go back there and wipe the smirks off of all their faces and tell them about what the perfect little gentlemen they all pretend they don’t have crushes on was doing on the phone with you last night. you wouldn’t do that, not in a million years, but just the thought of it is satisfaction enough. 

joshua leads you down the hall to a room that looks like an empty office. he opens the door for you, then closes it softly behind you.

“whose is this?” you ask, glancing around the room. 

“it’s… mine,” he says almost shyly, gesturing idly to a little engraved nameplate on the desk. joshua hong, pastor’s assistant. because of fucking course he would be.

“oh.”

he clears his throat, and in that moment you realize he’s just as nervous as you are. “listen…” he starts, taking a pause. “about the other night–”

“are you gonna kick me out?” you interrupt.

his brows knit together in confusion. “what?”

“are you gonna expel me?”

“no?” he says, still looking at you, baffled. “why would i do that? i don’t even think i have the power to, even if i wanted. which, for the record, i don’t.”

you don’t reply, focusing your gaze on the carpet instead.

he frowns. “is that really how you think of me? that i just go around tattling to my dad? from that… conversation, i thought it was clear i’m not like that anymore.”

the tips of your ears are burning at the memory of all the things you said to each other over the phone. but it never occurred to you that maybe he was just as sinful as you had been.

you stay quiet, the silence stretching on as shame and embarrassment and a hundred other emotions swirl in your mind and you struggle to figure out what to say.

luckily for you he fills the silence himself. he exhales, looking down at a stack of papers on the desk. “god, you… you don’t know how much i missed you. i thought about you all the time.”

“so did i,” you manage to whisper. “in more ways than you know.”

he gives you a teasing smile. “oh, i have a feeling i do know.”

you hold back a cough and look away, focusing your attention on a painting of flowers on the wall. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“if that’s how you wanna play this, fine.”

your curiosity piques, and you look back at him. he motions to the seat in front of the desk, wordlessly asking you to sit. hesitantly you do, and he starts to sit down at the swivel chair behind the desk, but you clear your throat and he glances up.

“can– can you not sit over there?” you ask softly. “feels like i’m being scolded.”

his expression softens a little, and he rolls the chair back into place, opting to sit next to you instead. “of course.”

except maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to do that, because now he’s sitting toe to toe with you and the closeness is overwhelming. at least on the other side of the desk there was enough distance for you to shrink and hide behind, but here, sitting like this, he can see all of you. and you don’t particularly want to be seen right now.

the tension is palpable as he takes his seat, still watching you. you take the moment to study his features: the slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his lips, the way the light catches on his long eyelashes and the way his broad shoulders look in that perfectly tailored sunday morning service suit.

“i always liked you,” he starts, and your gaze shoots up to his eyes. you open your mouth to ask something, but he shakes his head and you immediately fall silent, letting him finish. “i was almost glad when they made us go to different sunday school classes, because i wouldn’t have to sit there and pretend i didn’t have the craziest crush on you.”

“joshua, i–” you trail off, not even knowing what to say.

he pauses, as if debating his next words. “and i know it’s wrong, but i couldn’t get you out of my head when i… y’know.” his cheeks are flushed but he doesn’t look away from you, eyes searching your own for any hesitance or any sign that you don’t want this.

it’s then that you realize that the boldness you had felt hiding behind your phone, he had felt it too. saying words alone in your room at night was easy. sitting in public, in the daylight, and saying those same words to his face was so much scarier. and knowing that you’re both feeling awkward and shy and a little uncertain of how to talk about it gives you the confidence to keep going.

“when you would what?” you pry. you already know the answer but you want to hear it come out of his mouth anyway. you’ve already heard him say it, but something about sitting in his office, in a church, speaking such filth ignites a spark in you that’s completely different from the spark you felt a few nights ago.

he clears his throat and looks you in the eye, maybe gaining a little bit of that confidence, too. “when i would jerk off i would always wish it was your sweet little mouth instead of my own hand.”

you inhale sharply, and that’s when he finally breaks eye contact, his guilt-ridden gaze shifting to the wall behind you as his cheeks burn redder. “i didn’t feel good about it. felt like i was doing it without your permission, and i didn’t want that. i–”

“yes,” you say hurriedly.

he stops short at your interruption, instantly looking back at you. “yes…?”

“yes, you have my permission. whatever you want, joshua, always.”

his eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly, but you recognize it. even after all these years, after so much has changed, you still know his tells. you wonder if he still knows yours.

he murmurs your name in response, almost like a warning. “don’t say stuff like that,” he says, letting out a shaky breath.

“why not?” you ask, feigning innocence. but you know exactly what you’re doing, and you know exactly how you affect him: the same way he affects you.

he looks up at you. “you really are just as much of a brat as you were back then, aren’t you?” he says with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“why don’t you find out?”

he groans, leaning back in his chair. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to kiss you?” he says finally.

“probably just as long as i’ve wanted to kiss you,” you counter, and he raises an eyebrow.

you both stand up at the same moment, closing the distance in less than a second. 

you stare at his chest in front of you to avoid his eyes, until he brings up a hand and gently tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“are– you gonna get in trouble?” you breathe, heartbeat pounding in your ears as you stare at his perfect, perfect lips.

he hums, and it sends a shiver down your spine at the close proximity. “are you still giving me permission?” he asks, and you quickly shake your head yes. 

“always.”

he smooths his thumb across your cheek. “then i won’t be in any trouble at all."

and then his hand moves to hold the back of your neck and he's tilting his head and bringing his lips towards yours and then finally, after years of dreaming about it and even more years of denying it, you're finally kissing joshua and there's so many things happening at once that you can't seem to focus on anything because your mind is so full of everything and nothing and joshua and it all just feels so right.

you’re melting in his arms and falling into his touch and enjoying every fucking second of it. your heart speeds up when his hands slide behind your back, wrapping around your body to pull you closer to him, pressed chest to chest.

he pulls away to kiss you again, and again, and again, and you decide you’d be content to be like this forever, standing in his office in the church building making out like you’re the only two people on earth. 

but finally his lips leave yours, and he takes a tiny step backwards, heaving out a shaky breath as he looks you in the eyes. “what are we gonna do now?”

your heart plummets, doubts racing through your mind. did he not like it? does he not like you? did you really just ruin everything? why did he stop? why did he ask that—

but all your questions are answered in an instant when he coughs and you look down, finally noticing the prominent bulge in his dress pants. oh. that.

when you look back up at him his cheeks are flushed bright red, and he immediately begins to apologize.

“shua,” you call out to him, repeating his name the way you know he likes. “joshua. don’t worry about it. it’s fine.”

in fact, you find it incredibly flattering, that just a few kisses and gentle touches could get him this worked up. maybe it really has been you all along.

with a surge of confidence, you step back towards him, wrapping your arms around him and leaning to kiss him. “are you busy today?” you murmur, your cheek brushing against his.

he shudders, hands automatically finding your waist and pushing your hips against his own. “no. are you?”

you sigh, kissing the corner of his mouth. “not anymore.”

“fuck,” he curses, his grip on your body tightening “you really want to…?” he asks, almost shyly, as if he’s in denial this is really happening.

“absolutely,” you say, and you’ve never meant anything more in your life.

in a second he’s got you shoved against his desk, sending papers flying to the floor as he lifts you by your ass to sit you down on top of it. your kisses turn rougher and needier, your hands grabbing at anything you can reach to ground yourself: his hair, his shoulders, his back.

finally he breaks free, dropping to his knees in front of the desk. “please, let me eat you out.”

you moan out loud, probably too loudly for the thin walls of the office. but the visual of him on his knees to do anything other than pray drives you mad, and you need more of him, desperately. “joshua, please.”

he pushes your skirt up your thighs, moving it out of his way so he can stare eye to eye with your pussy. you whimper and instinctively try to hide your face in embarrassment, but something tells you he wouldn’t like that, so you resist, keeping your hands firmly planted on the edge of the desk.

“fuck, you’re soaking,” he says, his voice broken. “you’re so perfect.”

his hands reach up to tug at the hem of your underwear, and he looks up at you, silently asking for permission to continue. you nod eagerly, lifting your hips off the desk so he can slide them off of you, revealing your glistening entrance.

he whines at the sight, pretty lips parted in shock? awe? as if he can’t wait to taste you. he pushes his face into your pussy, gently at first, but when you moan and bring your hand up to his hair he dives deeper.

the moment he attaches his mouth to your clit, you jump, gasping as you try to shut your legs around his head but his large hands keep you held open. his tongue explores every inch of you, moving back and forth, up and down, mapping out your cunt with his mouth. 

“fuck, never dreamed you’d taste so good,” he sighs against your pussy, leaning away to take a breath after what feels like forever.

your legs are shaking and your cunt is throbbing as you also try to catch your breath. you’re not used to being touched like this and you’re definitely not used to being touched by joshua. so many thoughts running through your head and not a single one of them coherent enough to put into words. all you can do is weakly whine out joshua’s name and tug on his hair, pleading for him to keep going. you need release, and you don’t want it from anyone but him.

he stands up, his pants wrinkled from kneeling on the floor but still tented with a bulge so uncomfortably large you feel dizzy just thinking about it. you don’t even know if he’s going to fuck you or even if he wants to, but god you want to see his cock so bad. too many restless nights spent thinking about it, and now you might finally have the chance to see it in front of your face.

your mouth waters at the thought, and you start to slide off the desk, but joshua stops you. “what are you…?”

you look up at him, eyes blown wide with lust and you don’t even attempt to hide your eagerness. “please let me suck your dick. joshua, please.”

he whines, running a hand through his hair. “god, i want that so bad, but… i don’t think i can last if you do, and i was really hoping to fuck you.”

you close your eyes and roll your head back, moaning at his vulgar confession. but he sighs, and he sounds almost defeated, and you look back at him quickly, afraid he’s suddenly changed his mind.

“i’m not—prepared,” he admits, and you tilt your head in confusion before it sinks in what he means.

“ah. don’t suppose you would have any condoms lying around, would you, mr. pastor’s assistant?” you ask playfully, and he shoots you a glare.

“brat,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it, and your walls clench in response. “no, i don’t have any. not interested in anybody else, so… no reason to.” he looks like he has more to say, more serious things to say, but he keeps his mouth shut, his eyes searching your face nervously.

your stomach flips at his words, feeling your cheeks heating up. you hadn’t thought you would ever get this far, and especially not with him. because of the kind of school you were at, it wasn’t like the people here were doing the kind of things you’ve been doing—at least not publicly. even if you’d wanted to hook up with somebody (which you didn’t), everyone in your vicinity would shame you for even bringing it up. you may have experience with yourself, but anything with anyone else is completely new territory for you.

you fall silent, not sure how to continue the conversation as all your newfound confidence begins to crumble. what were you thinking? caught up in the heat of the moment, saying things you weren’t sure you meant. you were in love with him: that much you were sure of. but everything that comes after that is too new, too scary, at least for right now. you can barely even comprehend that he just went down on you, but you know you enjoyed it and honestly, you’d give anything for him to do it again. but there’s too much going on inside your head for you to even begin to process that right now.

he calls your name and you blink, looking back at him anxiously. “we… don’t have to. right now, or even at all,” he says gently. the tips of his ears are burning red but his voice is calm and steady.

“joshua, i want to,” you start, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap to give you something to focus on other than the way he’s watching you so intently. “but i– don’t know how.”

“neither do i, baby,” he says. the nickname makes you shiver; even though it’s not the first time he’s called you that, especially after the other night, you’re still not used to it. but somehow it’s comforting, and it makes you relax knowing that he’s still the same person you grew up with, the same person that knows almost everything about you. you’ve both changed so much, but deep down you haven’t changed at all.

he pauses when you don’t say anything back. “we’ll wait, then,” he says and wraps his arms around you, lightly at first but then squeezing when you don’t try to pull away. “we have all the time in the world. no need to rush.”

“we… do?” your voice is laced with uncertainty.

he smiles. “of course. i let you go once already, i’m not letting it happen again. never again.”

you turn your head away from him and hide your face, flustered by how sincere he sounds. he hums, and you can hear the pout in his tone so you fight your embarrassment and turn back towards him to ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind since you first saw him days ago. “this is gonna sound so stupid, but… shua, what are we?”

first you were childhood friends, you were best friends, and then you were nothing. right place, wrong time? and then you were… doing something on the phone together, whatever you could call that. and now you were just sitting on top of his desk, sweating from having almost had sex. how do you even begin to put a label on this?

“well, i’d like to be yours,” he says shyly, and just like that all your questions are answered with six small words. you realize it doesn’t matter what label you have; as long as you have him, that’s all that matters.

“yes,” you breathe, lifting your eyes to finally meet his and you see all the love in his eyes threatening to spill over.

he reaches up to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “i’m just glad i finally have you back,” he says with a soft smile as he watches you. “we’ll go slow, we’ll wait— whatever you want. whatever it takes not to lose you again.”

you bury your face in his chest with a whine. you’re hiding again, but even the uncomfortable scratchiness of his dress shirt can’t pull you away from him.

“besides, i don’t want our first time together to be in my stupid little office,” he chuckles and holds you tighter against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head that makes your heart flutter. “you deserve better than that.”

you stay there for a long moment, hugging him like it's the last time you'll ever see him. but this time you know it won't be the last. it's the first, the first of hopefully many, many more.

when you feel like you've been standing there too long, you clear your throat and lean your head back to look at him. "so, um… now what?"

he pauses, those pretty lips turned up in a smile. "do you have plans for lunch?"

"no, i just had that study group you pulled me from. i'm free for the rest of the day."

his smile widens. "perfect. you still like grilled cheese, or did you grow out of that, too?"

you laugh, putting your chin on his shoulder as you hug him. "i haven't changed that much, shua."

after taking a while to collect yourselves (waiting for his erection to go back down so you can leave together without looking suspicious), you walk out of joshua’s office the happiest you've felt in years.

he'd wanted to hold your hand, too, but you were still anxious about anyone seeing you together that you'd refused him until you made it to his car. you were probably just being paranoid and no one would care about two responsible adults talking to each other, but all the time you'd spent hiding from your peers had put you on edge.

so, it wasn't until you were safely out of the church parking lot and in the driveway of his apartment complex that you let him touch you, kissing you over the cupholders with his hands gently holding your neck.

it took everything in you not to climb over the center console and sit on his lap in the driver's seat and kiss him as hard and as deeply as you really wanted, but you knew once you started you wouldn't be able to stop. and besides, he still didn't have any condoms. it didn't bother you either way, since you'd been taking birth control since high school to help with your periods, but if it was what he wanted you'd be more than fine with it.

you don't know what you'd been expecting the inside his apartment to look like; probably some tacky cross-stitch bible verses or a wooden cross hanging on the wall, but his apartment just looked like… a normal apartment. a very clean apartment, actually, though you weren't surprised. he'd always been a neat, organized kid, and it looked like that was one thing he hadn't grow out of.

you watch as he puts his keys on a hook by the door, following him into the kitchen and sitting at one of the chairs.

he grins at you as he opens his refrigerator, pulling out the ingredients for your lunch before taking out a pan.

"shua…" you interrupt him, standing up and walking towards him slowly. "you're not— really thinking about grilled cheese sandwiches right now, are you?"

he hums, eyes following your every movement as the pan sits cold and abandoned on the stove. "there are… other things on my mind, yeah."

"so why are you still trying to make grilled cheese sandwiches?"

by now you're close enough to stand toe to toe with him, and you're sure he can feel the heat radiating off your body when he wraps his hands around your waist, backing you against the kitchen counter. "because i wanna make you lunch. maybe i just wanna spoil my girl a little bit."

a shiver runs down your spine at the new name he calls you. never in a million years did you think this is where you'd end up.

"i think you have all the time in the world to spoil me later, joshua," you mumble, leaning in closer and closer until your lips touch.

in a flash he's hoisting you up and sitting you on the counter. his mouth never leaves yours as you slide your legs around his hips to drag him closer, kisses growing deeper and more desperate now that you can finally be alone together.

his hands slide down your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt and only breaking apart for a second to slide it over your head before his lips are crashing against yours again. 

your hands find his hips, experimentally tugging on his belt to see his reaction. immediately he pulls away from you, 

cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. "sweetheart, i still don't have any condoms. if you really want to now, then we gotta run to the store first."

“i’m on the pill,” you burst out, hoping he gets the message. maybe he has some other reason for wanting to, but you're too impatient to wait for who knows how long it'll take to go to the store, and you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off him for that long. you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off of him for even a few seconds.

his face goes blank as he processes your words, struggling to understand if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. “you’d let me…?”

you grab onto his arms, a desperate attempt to pull him closer, to feel more of him. “raw, yes, joshua. just—please, i need you,” you beg him, cunt throbbing with neglect as you wait for him to answer. 

he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan, gripping his hands underneath your thighs and sliding you off the counter.

with a shriek you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he starts to walk out of the kitchen carrying you. "joshua! what the hell are you doing?"

his face is still pressed against your shoulder, and you can feel his lips tickling your bare skin as he speaks. "i'll fuck you on my kitchen counter any day of the week, baby, but i want to have you for the first time in my bed, please?"

his voice is low and whiny, just as desperate for you as you are for him and it makes you moan with excitement. 

he finds his way into his room, stumbling a little when he accidentally runs you into the wall instead of through the doorway, but you just giggle and kiss him harder until he finally drops you on his bed, immediately unbuttoning his shirt.

you run your hands along his chest as he leans over you, feeling the toned muscle that feels almost wrong to be seeing. his physical changes are much more obvious to you now that he's like this, and you know the image will fuel your fantasies for weeks.

your hands move to his belt again and this time he allows it, letting you unbuckle it and toss it away before slowly lowering the zipper. he's already hard again, and your heart races when you put a little bit of pressure on the seam and he lets out a guttural groan in response.

his arms flex as he reaches down to slide your skirt off, and you help him and kick the fabric away, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear.

joshua pauses, letting his gaze wander your body as you look away shyly. he hums and you look back at him in confusion. "don't hide from me, sweetheart, please," he says, but it comes out more like a whine; not like he's asking, but like he's begging. it's honestly the hottest thing you've ever heard, and even with your nerves he makes it hard to resist.

"dreamt about this for fucking years. years," he moans as he leans over to kiss your chest, reaching behind your body to undo your bra and let it fall away. you whimper when he brings his hands up to cup your breasts, wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as he starts to slowly grind against your clothed pussy. you can already feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you're sure he can feel it, too.

his hands are like nothing you've ever felt, and you roll your head back against his pillows, arching into him as he massages your breasts with his large hands. you'd noticed them before, but you hadn't realized just how big they were until they were on top of you and made your body seem almost tiny beneath his massive palms.

"shua…" you breathe, tentative hands reaching up to touch his shoulders.

he looks up at you, mouth covered in spit. "yes, angel?"

you whimper at the nickname. no angel you'd ever learned about in sunday school had acted like you are right now, begging a man to fuck you. and on top of that it was before marriage, too; surely if there was a god they would be extremely disappointed in you. but right now you didn't care if the entire universe was disappointed in you, as long as joshua hong wasn't.

it takes you a few more seconds to build up your courage, but finally you open your mouth and tell him, "joshua, please— fuck me."

he slides forward to kiss you again, before sitting back and repositioning himself between your legs. "anything you want, sweetheart."

he lines his cock up at your entrance, and just before you think he's about to push into you, he looks up at you instead. 

"i love you, so much," he says, and you have to fight the urge to hide your face as you grin and giggle like a fucking schoolgirl; like the past version of you would have, if she'd had any sense and figured everything out sooner.

and, like always, he asks, "ready?", and you nod, and it's better than you could've ever imagined.

the whines that leave his mouth drive you close to the edge already as he begins to thrust into you, slowly, gently, just a little bit at a time but it still leaves you gasping from his size.

he keeps moving at a snail's pace until you reach up, fumbling to grab at his bicep as tears nearly spill out of your eyes and beg him, "joshua, more, please."

he leans over you, pressing his body flat against yours as he starts to rock his hips faster, and you cry out from so much pleasure and so much emotion hitting all at once.

"wanted you so fucking bad, for so long, and now you're finally here," he whispers, his thrusts never faltering despite how close in proximity he is to your face.

you whine as your hands claw at his back, digging in as you struggle to hold on and he curses again, pushing into you harder.

"you said i was better than you imagined," he groans, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. "but you're even better than i imagined. you're a fucking angel, so fucking beautiful."

you gasp his name, falling into your orgasm from his words alone as you clench impossibly tight around him. you always thought of him as the nice kid, the rule follower, but here he is, fucking you through the hardest orgasm of your life and saying such filthy things in between praises and compliments.

"jo-oshua, please!" is all you can manage, still struggling to recover before he crests into his own high with a whimper. his eyes scrunch up as he releases inside you, eyelashes fluttering and sweat dripping down his temples, and you think it's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen. 

a constant stream of curses fall from his lips and you swallow them with yours, kissing him as if you're afraid he might disappear into thin air if you don't hold onto him tight enough.

his breaths are shallow when his mouth falls away from you, resting his forehead on your shoulder with a long exhale.

"god…" he starts, then stops and laughs, and you have to tug on his hair to make him face you again.

"what are you laughing at?" you say, cheeks growing hot when he looks at you with droopy, hooded eyes and a lopsided smile.

"nothing," he laughs. "just god. what a funny word."

"and why is that, baby?" you say as you try to hold back a smile, testing out the nickname.

he grins. "because it gave me you. or maybe it didn't. who knows?"

you finally laugh along with him, remembering what he'd said to you on the phone that feels like years ago. "don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”

the church is humming with activity as you make your way to the front pew, carrying two donuts in your hand. people greet you as they mingle about the hall, talking and laughing. some wave excitedly when they see you, others simply smile and offer their hand for you to shake with a friendly “good morning and god bless!”

being a pastor’s wife isn’t something you ever imagined yourself doing, but then again, a lot of things in your life you never imagined doing. you never imagined seeing joshua again, and you never imagined marrying him, either. you certainly didn’t imagine taking over your father-in-law’s church when he retired and decided it was time for joshua to take his place as head of the church. you always knew he would someday, whether he wanted to or not, but you’d be happy to spend the rest of your life by his side no matter where he was or what job he had.

you’d been almost nervous when you decided it was finally time to tell your parents you had been seeing each other, but to your surprise they had been overjoyed at the news. both his family and yours were “just so glad when it happened to be you!”, saying things like “we’d always known it would happen, back since you were children!”, and “so when are we going to get some beautiful little grandchildren to take to sunday school!”

it had been five long and happy years since that very first phone call, and every minute you spend with joshua has been the best of your life.

you walk up the steps to the stage where your husband is waiting, flipping through his notes for the morning’s sermon. you hand him his donut with a grin, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. he smirks at you, imperceptible to everyone else but you can tell what it truly means.

everybody in the congregation always talks you’re the perfect example of a happy, god-loving couple. such nice looking people, so well put together. but behind closed doors, they’d be horrified by the things you say and do together. wolf in sheep’s clothing, as is your husband’s favorite parable to preach.

it’s not the life you imagined, but it’s perfect to you and him.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging with tags or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[romaine2424]

Weekly Blog July 21, 2023

Well, I didn't mean to take this long to get back to my blog, but priorities. LOL. The priority was my WIP fic. I've yet to find a beta, but what I did find was Grammarly Pro. My daughter has a subscription. She uses it for final papers for school. I'm sorry, but I'm old and didn't know this AI app existed. So I ran each of my 20 chapters (110K) through the app, and wow, did I learn a lot. As I said in previous posts, what I needed help with was SPAG, sentence structure and word usage. My alpha and I cover the plot continuity and canon issues. It's canon divergent after HBP, so sometimes things slip in that happened in HPDH. *oops* I also ran my the @hd-fan-fair fic through it.

The app does have its problems with what it suggests sometimes. But it's easy enough to work around those. As it doesn't understand the content, it continuously dings me for using pronouns, especially He. And no, I don't want every time I use the word order to be Order or cloak to be Cloak. But thank you for showing me that I use the words just, that, and over a ridiculous amount of times. And thank you for fixing all the double spacing between sentences in the chapters I wrote in 2007 with a simple push of a button. And thank you for reminding me that when someone is going to sit that I don't need to specify that they are going to sit down, or rose up from the chair, or walked over to the exit door.

So, that's what I've been doing, along with a bit of reading. I have two recs! One Drarry and the other Narcissa with a side of Drarry. Both fics are new!

What I've been reading:

The first fic comes from @hd-wireless, which is currently posting. About This Place (10K) by Anon. Here's the Summary:

Harry left everything, including Draco. Harry’s returned to everything, including Draco. Things are never quite so simple, though perhaps they could be. Based on ‘You and I’ by Lady Gaga for Wireless 2023.

This fic is dripping with atmosphere. The majority of the story takes place in a small burlesque bar called Ronnie's. Well, the author is much better than me in describing it:

Within the tiny burlesque bar (or, not-quite-burlesque bar, as Ronnie would say) are the queers that are a shade too queer for the regular gay clubs. Trans butches are ogled by confused twinks, a pretty femme in the middle of the room teases salivating straight women who came here just for fun, and a tall drag queen with an auburn wig flowing down to her waist is on the main stage, singing with a sea of androgynous dancers behind her, winking at her pianist as she launches into a song they most definitely did not rehearse beforehand. The pianist looks annoyed, but really, he’s good enough that he can handle anything Ronnie throws at him. His long blond hair is half up in a bun, and despite his winged eyeliner and red lips and high heels, he’s probably the most unassuming person in here. He’s very pretty, but also concentrated in a way that doesn’t invite people in; you would feel intrusive saying hello, or asking for his number. He’s wearing all black: high waisted jeans, a well-fitted turtleneck—his uniform.

The story, as the summary stated, is about Harry returning to London after travelling for a few years. He and Draco had been in a relationship before he left, and now Harry wants him back. Love this trope. Draco was hurt that Harry left, really hurt. And now, when Harry walks into Ronnie's, he knows he'll succumb to Harry's wants, but there will be resistance. Working through the turmoil of misunderstandings and being scared to take a second chance can sometimes be frustrating to read with this trope. BUT NOT HERE. The author's writing is so beautiful and poignant you become fully immersed. Harry's revelation about his time away, why he went away, and why he's back is just guh! Draco doesn't stand a chance. LOL. Still laughing about the couch!

About This Place by Anon on AO3

The second fic is Night Dragon, Dawn Bird (20K) by Xenjyn (AO3). As the author says in her notes, this is the story that gives Narcissa the agency she deserves. And it is pure poetry. The Summary is just two lines:

"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?" "Yes."

It begins with the time period right after the war but before the trials. The location is Malfoy Manor, where Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco are living in the midst of the destruction left by Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Narcissa is lying in bed as Lucius sleeps soundly next to her, and she's contemplating all that came before that led the family to this point in time. Draco is traumatized and coming into his own revelations.

Draco is alive and hidden in one of the midnight dark parlors, knees drawn to his chest, sitting in a chair which used to swallow him when he was young. Now he’s too tall for it, his long legs curled to his chest and his hands clutched tight around them, his face hidden in his knees. He’s sleeping, or weeping. Shoulders rising and falling. Or trembling.

...

Perhaps he sleeps less than her, now. The blanket she conjures flutters around his shoulders, weighted, warmed with a charm. It barely touches him but his eyes open, a frightened start, and then her hand is in his hair, thicker than she remembers it, curling at his temples, stroking over his scalp. “It’s only me, my darling. Sleep.” “Mum,” His voice is so small, so rasping, like he were ill, in the deepest clutch of a fever. His hand finds her wrist, squeezing tight. “ Mum . ”

There is a dreaminess to this story. We're immersed in Narcissa's thoughts, and they flit from the past to the present and conjecture of what's to come. And there is a background voice in her thoughts: Bellatrix. She's always there pushing Narcissa with her comments. It's quite creepy but oh-so-delicious.

Bellatrix spins, pulses at her, a star-shine fading in and out, closer and distant, like the voice that used to sneak into her room, like the whisper of a laugh when they were girls, like the hiss of madness outside Severus’s door. Cissy, Cissy, Cissy. She calls, I can ’t sleep, Cissy. I’m bored, Cissy. Play with me, Cissy.

There are four relationships (Narcissa/Lucius, Narcissa & Draco, Narcissa & Harry, Harry/Draco) that we are privy to, and the most surprising is the one between Harry and Narcissa. That forest scene was a nexus point for both. They're connected. But the most heartbreaking is between Lucius and Narcissa. We're treated to their past and how they got together. How much they were in love, but then, Lucius fucked up. I won't give it away, but it was one of the most insightful scenes I've read in dealing with their marriage. There is a side of Drarry in the story, and it's like a soothing balm with everything else that is going on.

I feel like I'm failing to say how good this story is in how beautiful it is to experience Narcissa and her path to her agency. Never forget she is a Black witch. Bellatrix says it best. Cissy, not a threat?

Night Dragon, Dawn Bird by Xenjyn on AO3

I hope you get a chance to read both these fics and please give them comments of love.

I would love to know if you use or have used Grammarly and what you thought of it.

That's all for now,

Rom

[brick-a-doodle-do]

7, 24, and 38 for the ask game!

7 : what is your deepest joy about writing?

i guess like just the fact that i can build entire worlds. worlds with new languages, physics, entities, everything. i can completely go off of the rails with worlds and THEN make up a cool-ass main-character lifestyle for a person in that world! i can make people with personalities. i entertain the multiverse theory and i just love thinking about my worlds being real. it's cool!! also like with my own worlds and stuff i don't tell anyone the specifics of these places outside of tumblr/discord and sometimes my worlds are mine. i can see a fucking rollercoaster and imagine it in tiny workers! i can see a bag of wilbur chocolate and smile to myself knowing that almost 100 people have read what i had to say about this bag of chocolate. it's cool as hell!!! also the same thing will apply to songs, i can listen to a song after having made a new wip and go "holy shit, this reminds me of ___!"

ALSO another joy is adding personal easter eggs. (usually; if i can remember) every 1970'th word of my fic, i'll add a word referring to ff1970 because i am soo attached to fics i hate. also my phone password is 8866273 (oops) because spell that out with letters and it's tumoasd (another fic i hate but am attached to dearly)! i am soo attached to lil easter eggs that i and only a few other people can get.

OHHH and another one! this is kinda just for fanfic (as if i write anything else) but i love connecting things to the thing i'm writing for. my absolute FAVORITE one is SO SO SO cool like i will never let myself forget how cool it is is soot house. i won't go into detail about the fic cause yeah but lvjy's song one day fits SO WELL with it. "one day i know that you will be there, one day i'll focus on the future" is one that fits with sh!wilbur, but that's not the cool one at ALL

soot house is a hill house/bly manor au and a certain lil event happens on november 16th 1852 (year was COMPLETELY random) AND AND that happens to be on a TUESDAY. in one day, there's the line "'cause all i want to do is turn back time, at least a couple tuesdays, to before i found one life turn two" WHICH WAS COMPLETELY RANDOM I DID NOT SET THAT UP IN THE SLIGHTEST, IT JUST KINDA FELL INTO PLACE! and it's so cool bc in the fic wil is immortal and the line (while i know that's def not their intended purpose of that line) "before i found one life turn two" KINDAA FITS THAT bc that was the day he went immortal" and to think wil sung that song and he's the main character of soot house and idk it's soo cool how that fell into place bc 1852 was COMPLETELY random. ANYWAYS sorry to ramble like that QASJDGFSD

24 : how much prep work do you put into your stories? what does that look like for you? do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

hhh well that depends on the story! i mean look at tiny workers with DAYS of worldbuilding, then soot house which i've never touched an outline for but still have 10k for. it's all really random. but usually planning will all be mental. if it's a larger fic i'll make a pinterest board for it and OCCASIONALLY a playlist. but usually it's just a mental outline, bc if i ever try to write anything down i put it down and try again soo many times with a different approach,,, it's a very messy process sometimes. i do like worldbuilding, it's really fun! but i think unless someone is making me do something specific with specific questions they want me to answer i just can't do anything asdjfh

38 : what is something about your writing process YOU think is really weird? if you are comfortable, please share. if you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

hm. i really don't know, i'd have to think about it! i'd say i'm still a pretty noob writer so i don't have a cool unique writing process. butttt if i had to say, maybe the fact that it's so open? that's not necessarily weird in any way but sometimes i just feel like opening a doc on my phone and writing lil words on the way home or when no one is looking. other days i will get all cozied up and make my environment all aesthetic and shit lol (but when i do that i usually cave and just watch netflix or youtube lol)

ask game !!

[nicoline1998enilocin]

''Oops!'' - Love me, pick me, choose me - The beginning of the end...? - Up to snow good

Please?

Hi Nonnie, thank you so much for asking for these fics based on this post, these are some of my favorites in my WIP list, actually! 🩷

“Oops!” will feature my very favorite God of Mischief, Loki! This one shot it part of my Flufftober Challenge, and plays in the same universe as my one shot called Mirror mirror on the wall... based on the prompt ''Did you mean for this to happen?''.

During this one shot, Reader and Loki are in a friends-with-benefits relationship, and it's going well between them until Loki suddenly loses control of his magic in the bedroom, and a beautiful surprise is revealed, making them not want to let go of one another for the rest of time.

Love me, pick me, choose me features Bucky and his best friend. I'm going to just leave a screenshot of the writing prompt for this one, because that's all I'm going to say about it 👀

The beginning of the end...? is a story including Steve, Bucky, and Princess, who are in a polyamorous relationship together. This one shot is part of my Stucky Bingo Challenge and will fill the square ''blanket forts''.

During this fic, Princess thinks that Steve and Bucky are pulling away from her because they've known each other longer and don't see her as an equal in their relationship. However, nothing could be further from the truth because they've been secretive and a little more off to the side for an entirely different reason: they want to propose to their Princess.

Up to snow good takes place in my young!Tony AU. This is my Christmas special for 2023 (and will be posted on December 25 😉). Because of this it is going to be longer than usual (I'm aiming for about 8K-10K words!), and there will be a lot of different things happening with Tony, Sunshine, the kids and the (grand)parents!

This is going to feature everything from angst to fluff, and even smut in there, so there is going to be something for everyone!

A few things happening in the fic include, but aren't limited to: a snowball fight, hot chocolate with the family, a giant Christmas family dinner, and an appearance from a not-so-welcome guest... 👀

[jackrrabbit]

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Everything, Everywhere | The Mikaelson Boys

Hello Lovelies! I circled back to my element and wrote a more traditional Mikaelson Boys fic. Did I reuse the theme of a ball? Yes, I am a weak and lazy woman. Did I make the fic completely implausible and touchy? You know I did, they’re vampires and I will let them touch whoever they want (with consent of course). Anyway, it’s honestly just a cute, kinda steamy romance. I altered some of the points from the universe but you have to squint to see where. You know, my entire gambit. You could use this as a prologue for my other fic, Big Decisions, but this is more than fine as a standalone. Anyways, I hope you are all doing well and that this story brings you joy! Until next time <3 

Description: Y/n is part of a founding family and gets invited to a Mikaelson ball. Somehow she manages to enamour three of the brothers. They soon discover she has a few secrets that they’re more than willing to indulge.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x The Mikaelson Boys

Warnings: Kudos to me I think there are none

Word count: 10k (oops)

Tags: Fluff, smut if you squint (more like nudity)

“Are you heading home this weekend?” Lily twirls a strand of blonde hair between her fingers, “Mama told me there’s an event.”

Your best friend lays on your bed as opposed to her own, her legs dangling over the edge. Her eyes are closed, probably halfway to being asleep. It’s been this way since the two of you left for college three years ago, always more in your space than her own. You’re lucky that way, you have a best friend who would follow you across the country if you wanted her to. Honestly, you would do the same. Luckily, though, you decided on only two hours away away from home. Just far enough to find your footing. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. 

You smile softly at her, swiveling in your chair, “what event? My parents haven’t said anything to me.”

Your family is a founding family, just like Lily’s is. That’s how the two of you became best friends, it was practically destined. You were babies at the same time and your parents brought you to every meeting together. You were inseparable long before you can remember.

Lilly yawns, curling her legs to her chest, “I think it’s some sort of ball. I’m not too sure, I think we got invitations,” Lily rolls her eyes as if the concept of a hand written letter offends her very being, “and they probably just forgot or assumed I would tell you. Isn’t your mom, like, the head of the committee now?”

You nod at her, closing your own eyes for a second, “yeah she’s always got something going on. I swear she forgets she even has a daughter half the time.” You let your mind drift to the other half of the conversation, “Invitations? That’s exciting.”

You don’t have to look at her to know that she’s rolling her eyes again. You crack an eye open anyway just in time to glimpse her do that very thing. You giggle lightly, shaking your head. 

Always one for theatrics, “careful, Lil, your tomboy is showing. What would your mother think if she could see you up in arms over a silly, little note, hmm?”

She scowls at you before letting the grin crack through, flipping her middle finger up at you and mouthing bite me. 

You lean your head back against your chair, “I’m not even sure if mama wants me to come. She hasn’t said anything about this to me. She called me yesterday and it didn’t come up once. Maybe I should just stay here.”

“Not true,” Lily curls her fingers at you, beckoning you to join her on the bed, “she’s just busy these days. Remember how she was when we were little?”

You move to the bed, curling next to your best friend, “you mean how she was always around? She went from helicopter parent to too busy to text me back.”

You yawn, closing your eyes and letting the lullaby of sleep on your limbs sing a little louder. Lily cuddles closer to you, almost gone herself. You wish you could hold onto these moments. These fleeting minutes of comfort in your best friend’s arms. It’ll be gone all too soon. You almost don’t want to fall asleep. Laying next to her feels like the calm before the storm and you want to soak up as much of it as you can. Your heavy eyelids, however, have other plans.

“You’re coming. If I have to go then so do you. I’m sure this weekend will be different,” her voice is the last thing you hear before you drift off, “I can feel it.”

                                 *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Sure enough, when you pull into your parent’s driveway after dropping Lily off at her own house, your mother bursts through the door, a wide smile on her face. You let your own smile drown the nerves you’ve been fighting for the last three hours, practically falling out of the car to get to her. She wraps you in a hug, her familiar honeysuckle and lilac scent trickling around you.

“I missed you, mama,” you whisper against her shoulder and she squeezes you tighter for a second before letting go.

“Oh honey,” she crinkles her nose at you, her face the picture of serene joy, “what’s to miss? I’m always right here. I, however, missed you so much.” She leads you into the house, her arm around your shoulders tight, “Tell me all about everything!”

You suck in a breath as you enter your house, letting your shoulders sag as you pass over the door frame. You’re home, finally. You glance around quickly at everything you’ve missed for the last few months. You glance at family photos, most of which include Lily, and the random trinkets your parents have collected over the years. There are a few new ones and you make a mental note to look at them later. 

You settle on a stool at the kitchen counter, leaning your head in your hand, “you first, mama. What’s this about a ball? And an invitation, hmm? You’ve been holding out on me.”

Her eyes widen, telling you everything you need to know. She forgot. You really aren’t that surprised. It makes you feel better, at least the reason she didn’t tell you wasn’t because she didn’t want you to attend. Lily was right, you’ll have to let her say I told you so when you see her next.

“Oh shoot,” she snaps her fingers, rushing to the foyer, her voice floating to you as she turns the corner, “I’m so sorry honey, it completely slipped my mind. I barely had a chance to glance at my own invitation,” she comes back into view, now with two envelopes in her hand, “here you go!”

She hands you the envelope and you almost gasp at how luxurious the paper feels in your fingers. The cardstock is definitely of the more expensive selection and you blanche. Who on earth could be sending this? You read your name on the card drawn in an elegant script. Handwritten. You had been joking with Lily when you thought that but now, looking at it first hand, it almost offends you as well. You could never write like that.

You open it carefully, making sure to not taint the red seal. You’re pretty sure your heart would collapse if that happened. This has to be one of the most beautiful things you have ever touched. You pull the equally luxurious note from the envelope, your eyes dancing over the paper. 

Please join the Mikaelson Family this coming Saturday at seven o’clock for dancing, cocktails, and celebration. 

Your heart stops. This coming Saturday. Saturday. As in today Saturday. You whip your head up to stare at your mother, your mouth falling open. 

“Mama,” this time your eyes widen, “this is tonight!” you hiss, your brows shooting up, “I can’t attend this! There’s no time, it’s two in the afternoon already!”

She rolls her eyes and for a moment you picture Lily and how she would call you dramatic. You can practically hear her voice. Just wear jeans you princess. You scoff at imaginary Lily. You can’t attend a ball in jeans, not that that would stop her at all.

“You can and you should attend,” she places a finger under your chin, drawing your eyes to meet hers, “the Mikaelson’s are new to town and have invited us. It’s only polite that we attend. Besides,” she winks at you and your cheeks flood with heat, “they are quite the handsome bunch. Perhaps you can end this dry spell? Give me some grandbabies?” 

You choke at her words, pulling your face from her fingers with burning skin, “oh my god, mama! I’m almost certain you should not be condoning grandbabies! Besides, I have nothing to wear so I highly doubt I’ll be the one pulled from the crowd. Reproduction rates are looking slim, I am sorry to say!”

She laughs, her eyes crinkling, and you can’t stop yourself from joining her, “alright, alright. No grandbabies. Yet. However, I’m not so sure how you can be so certain when you haven’t even looked at what I picked up for you. I quite think you’re going to change your mind, honey bunch.”

Your laughter stops abruptly as she leaves the room for the second time. You hear her jog up the stairs and your interest is officially peaked. She never jogs. What on earth has she done? You rack your brain, trying to picture what she’s going to show you now. You don’t have much time to sit on your thoughts, however, because soon you can hear her feet on the stairs again, still jogging, now humming a tune you can’t place. 

When she comes back into view, your mouth falls open. In her hands is a gown. No, not just a gown. In her hands is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. It’s a black, sequined number with a full skirt and a slit that looks like it will rest a touch lower than your hip. The straps keeping it on the hanger are thin, almost nonexistent, and the bodice has a deep but modest dip. When she moves it sparkles like a diamond, catching the sun rays pouring in through the kitchen window. She holds it up, letting it flow to its full effect in front of you, and you gasp, your hands flying to your mouth. 

You can feel the tears prickling at the edge of your vision and you silently scold yourself for being so emotional, “mama, where did you get this? It’s too much!”

Her smile falters, minutely, but you still see it and curse silently, “you don’t like it?”

You stand quickly, your eyes wide, “no! That’s not it,” you take the dress from her, afraid it’ll disappear if you don’t touch it, “this must have cost a fortune is all! How can we afford this?”

It’s true, the dress looks like a million bucks and probably costs as much. You’re a founding family, sure, but that doesn’t instantly equate to old money. It doesn’t even mean new money. Your family has never struggled to get by but you also know that something this extravagant would have definitely set your father back a pretty penny. You don’t want your family to waste their hard earned money on something this frivolous, even if it is the most stunning thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

Your mother’s smile returns to its full brilliance and she shakes her head, “it didn’t cost me a thing, honey, don’t worry. Mrs. Jackson down the street owed me a favor and I asked if she had anything particularly pretty laying around. She pulled this from her closet. She also told me to let you know that it’s yours if you would like.”

You hug the dress tiger to your chest, your mouth gaping further, “I can keep this?”

Your mother giggles, bobbing her head up and down quickly. She looks like she’s ready to start jumping. You don’t blame her, you’re half a second away from doing the same thing. You could scream from how ecstatic you are.

“Come, honey,” your mom grabs your hand, dragging you up the stairs with her, “I think it’s high time we start getting ready for tonight, don’t you think? You have some Mikaelson’s to wow!”

                            *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

When seven o’clock rolls around you’re standing outside the biggest mansion you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Its white pillars taunt you, each one large enough to hide your body. Twice. You’re alone, spare the people around you milling in and out of the large doors. Your mother had dropped you in front while her and your father went to park the car. Never before in your life has a house made you feel this small. This alone. You pull your shawl, a sheer black number, around your shoulders and shrink slightly.

A hand lands on your shoulder and you jump, spinning around quickly only to be greeted with Lily, whose face is twisted from the laughter pouring out of her. She clutches her stomach from the force, wrinkling the red satin dress she’s wearing. You take a moment to admire how much it suits her. It’s a little bold for your tastes but she wears it like no one else could. Her hair is twisted on the top of her head, a few curls falling to frame her face. She looks amazing, not that you had any doubts.

You lightly smack her shoulder, finally letting a few giggles loose, “you scared me you idiot!” You turn your eyes back to the mansion, swallowing the lump of nerves growing in your throat, “take a look at this place, will you. It’s huge! Have you ever seen a house this big? What could someone possibly need a house this big for?”

“Yeah it’s something alright,” her eyes drag down the hulking facade before meeting yours once more, a naughty smirk now on her red lips, “and I’m sure the inside is even nicer! Let’s go!”

She grabs your hand, all but dragging you over the threshold. Light pours over you, catching the sequins on your dress and making it sparkle delicately, something that would usually make you squeal however your attention is currently elsewhere. That elsewhere is the dual grand staircase in the center of the room. It’s encased in pillars, the feature leaking in from the exterior of the mansion. It’s bronze railings are strung up with thousands of twinkling lights. The staircase is easily the focal point of the foyer. 

But not because of the lights. 

Lily digs her nails into your hand, pulling you to a screeching halt, “are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?”

Her eyes are glued to the same place that yours are, dragging up and down the staircase with little care to whoever might be watching her little show. You choose a less outright form of gawking, opting to look all around the room while still making little glances at your main focus.

“Yeah, Lil, I think I am,” you gulp, your eyes training on three sinfully gorgeous men, “mama said they were handsome but this,” you let the end of your sentence drop, not having nearly the vocabulary to explain the Mikaelsons.

In total, there are five people on the staircase. Four men and a woman. Each one is gorgeous in their own right. You mull over the woman first. If you thought that you looked nice before you left, that’s pretty much gone now. She’s absolutely stunning. Her blonde hair lays in a sheet over her shoulders, winding almost to her base of her spine. She wears an emerald gown, one fitted to every dip and curve of her body like it was spun by Aphrodite herself. You have to look away, she’s the kind of pretty that makes you feel like you’re not worthy of seeing it.

Your eyes travel to the man next to her and your mouth goes dry. He’s tall. That’s the first thing you notice. If you were next to him he would easily tower over you. Not just because of his height, though. You shift your focus to his arms and the way the sleeves of his tux hug them tightly. You have no doubts this man could rip you in two if he wanted to. He stands at ease, his eyes wandering the faces of those closest to him as he lifts a hand to smooth over his brown hair. At least he doesn’t look to be in the killing mood.

Behind him is a man with blonde hair. Even from across the room it looks softer than silk and your palms itch to run through it. He leans against the railing, a glass of champagne loose in his fingers. His eyes are on the others but he has the appearance of a man who is a thousand miles away. Your heart hurts at the thought but you brush past it. You don’t know him and you’re most likely wrong. Still you give him another brush over, wishing slightly that he would crack even a hint of a smile.

You shake your head, moving to the man at the top of the stairs. He’s alive with something fiery, speaking to the others with animated hands and laughing hard. You can’t hear him over the crowd around you but, gods, you wish you could. It’s probably nothing important but, by the looks of him, he could make anything sound special. He throws his head back laughing, his brown hair flopping wildly. You can’t look at him for long either but not for the same reason you couldn’t look at the woman. No, you can’t look at him because you’re afraid if you look any longer than you’ll be sucked in forever.

When you look at the last man you shiver. It’s not the kind of shiver that makes you feel exhilarated though, it’s the opposite. Your blood runs cold when you look at him and, when his eyes meet yours, you look away instantly. You can feel his eyes burning into your back for a few moments after and you hate it. Unlike the rest of them, this man makes you feel ice cold.

You tug on your best friend’s hand, desperate to get away from the man, “come on, Lil, let’s go find the champagne.” 

Lily’s eyes light up at the thought, instantly taking the lead on this new expedition, “girl you read my mind!” 

You take one last glance towards the staircase as she pulls you into another room, momentarily catching three pairs of brown eyes before scampering around the corner. Your cheeks are hot when you’re finally out of their vicinity. You hadn’t realized how heavy the air around them had been. Now that you can’t see them your bones feel marginally lighter. Something nags at you though, a loss of sorts. You rub a hand over your chest, massaging the ache away.

Lily pushes a cool glass into your hand, lifting her own to her lips. You follow suit, breathing in the sugary scent before letting the sweet bubbles flow down your throat. They pop, soothing your flaming chest.

“Shit,” Lily breathes, “everything about this screams money. The invitations, the house, this damn champagne. What’s next? A pool of synchronised swimmers?” Her eyes wander the room, her fingers tight around the glass, “I’m not used to this Great Gatsby level of wealth. It’s making my head spin a little. This is my parent’s scene, not mine.”

You nod lightly, her words everything you’ve been dying to say. It’s magnificent but you’ve never felt more out of place. Not even the founders day balls are like this. At least Mrs. Lockwood has the good sense to cater to the modesty of the town. Before you can answer, however, a voice joins your conversation.

“My apologies, my brothers like to go overboard when throwing parties. It’s not quite my taste either, a little too stuffy if you ask me.” 

You spin around to the sight of the woman from the stairs and your heart pounds hard in your chest. She’s even more beautiful up close, like a Van Gogh masterpiece. Her voice is accented and smooth, impossibly so. You feel like a peasant in her presence but her smile is light and it helps to soothe your nerves a touch. When you look at Lily, though, her cheeks are beet red and her eyes are wide. 

“Oh my, I am so sorry! I didn’t think anyone would hear me besides,” she nudges you lightly, the smile she’s plastered on her face sheepish, “this one here. It really is gorgeous. Perhaps university has lowered my standards.”

You watch Lily fumble her words and you don’t blame her. This girl seems like she was made to insite insecurity and you mean that in the very best of ways. Despite her slight enthusiasm, though, Lily’s eyes flow over the woman slowly. You can tell she’s interested. By the way her stares are being reciprocated, you would say she isn’t the only one. You smile at that.

The woman laughs, her eyes filled with mirth, “your standards aren’t low, this party is just a nightmare. I’m Rebekah, one of the many Mikaelsons you will surely encounter tonight,” she looks over her shoulder, her eyebrows furrowing slightly, “and it looks as though you’re going to get the immersive experience.”

You, too, look over her shoulder and your heart stops. The three men from the staircase, the ones who didn’t make your blood run cold, walk towards you slowly, stopping here and there to welcome guests. The tall one catches your eye and you freeze, a deer caught in the headlights. He says something to the other men and they join in looking at you. You swallow hard, your insides doing somersaults at the sight of them. A deer caught in three headlights, it would seem. 

You look back at Rebekah, your eyes blown wide from the panic rising in your chest. She isn’t looking at you, her eyes still locked on your best friend. They’re in the middle of a conversation that you haven't been paying attention to. You tune back in just in time to hear Lily ask about the gardens behind the house. You scrunch your nose. What gardens?

“Yes, they’re marvelous,” Rebekah leans towards Lily, a glint in her eyes, “and much less crowded. I could show you around them if you’d like?” 

Oh no. No no no. You can see the gears turning in your best friend’s head and the smile that blossoms on her face. You know what’s about to happen and for a moment time stands still. She’s really going to do it, isn’t she? 

She looks over at you, tossing you and apologetic squint before meeting Rebekah’s wondering eyes, “I would love that! Lead the way.”

You watch in slow motion as your best friend wanders away, once more looking over her shoulder to mouth a quick I’m sorry. You roll your eyes at her, murmuring a silent you owe me. You close your eyes briefly, tipping the remainder of your champagne into your mouth. You set your glass down as the alcohol swirls in your stomach, adding a kind of weightlessness to your movements. You embrace it, your eyes scanning the ornate walls. What the hell are you going to do now?

A breeze swirls around you, a myriad of spices hitting your nose just as a honeyed voice breaks your daze, “this house was built in the seventeenth century. As a matter of fact, those are the same walls. I do apologize, we’re a little slow when it comes to modernization. I know it can be a lot to take in, if you need another moment to confront them I do understand.”

You turn quickly, your cheeks hot to the touch, and you find yourself inches away from one of the men from the staircase. You bite your cheek, you really need to figure out their names. Up close you see that you were right about him, he does indeed tower over you. You have to bend your neck significantly to make comfortable eye contact. You almost wish you hadn't, though, his dark eyes flooding your chest with butterflies.

“I think I’ve had my fill of the walls but thank you for your consideration,” you pull your wrap tighter around you, clutching it like it's the source of magic that is helping you keep your composure, “and for the history lesson. This house is beautiful.”

He smiles widely, an action so doused in beauty that your head spins, “thank you, it was my father’s. I am Elijah, I don’t believe we’ve met before,” his eyes flit across your face and you can feel the blush begin to creep down your chest, “something which I’m beginning to understand is a terrible misfortune on my part.”

Your heart pounds painfully, your throat dry. This man clearly has a deep grasp on words and knows exactly how to use them. You wonder for a moment to what extent. What would he sound like in a more intimate setting? What words would he use when no one else could hear him? 

Your eyes widen, your chest burning at the thought, “I’m y/n. Perhaps you’ve met my mother, Mary-Anne?” you glance around, trying and failing to locate your mother, “She’s around here somewhere, she has a hand in most of the happenings around town so it wouldn’t surprise me if you do know her.”

Elijah’s carmel eyes fill with recognition, “ah, yes, I believe I’ve seen her in town. Never you, though.”

Though he doesn’t ask, the question is clear in his tone. 

“I attend university out of town,” you clutch your chest lightly, your fingers curling around the top of your dress, “I’m actually only home for the weekend. My mother was adamant I attend this evening.”

Elijah tilts his head, his eyes flitting quickly to where your fingers slip down your dress. When he looks back at you his eyes are a touch darker than before. Your heart pounds harder as well and you bite your lip slightly, thankful your mother didn’t make you wear lipstick.

“I see. I suppose that means we must give you a night to remember,” his eyes linger on your mouth for a moment and the heat that was swirling in your chest sinks lower.

“Indeed we shall, brother,” a voice from your left pulls your attention.

You’re greeted with the blonde from earlier, the one who looked like he was on another planet. Standing in front of you now he looks much more aware. His eyes, a touch lighter than Elijah’s, skim down your dress, lingering on the high slit on your hip before meeting yours again. You suck in a breath but there is no oxygen to be found.

“I do hope my brother is giving you a proper welcome,” his eyes flash, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips, “I wouldn’t want you leaving here tonight without a proper taste of the Mikaelson charm.”

The way he says the word taste, the way it rolls of his tongue, is positively sinful. It hits you straight in the stomach, spreading like poison through your already airy body. It anchors you to the ground, to him. You glance at Elijah who’s already watching you like a hawk. You feel naked under his gaze but, for some reason, it isn’t a wholly unwelcome feeling. You actually kind of like it. 

You smile lightly at him before turning back to his brother, “I think he’s doing a marvelous job. His introduction skills, however, need a little bit of a touch up.” You giggle at the glimpse of his furrowed eyebrows from the corner of your eye, “Too much talking about walls for my liking.”

“Ah, there you two are,” a third voice joins your arsenal of men, standing on your right and piercing you with a voice accented enough to make the gods fall to their knees, “hogging all the pretty girls tonight, are we Klaus?”

You meet the eyes of the third man, the one who made laughter look like a gift, and your heart sings. He grins at you, his eyes, much like his brothers’, a warm brown. Having all three of them this close to you is more intense than you could have imagined. They make the room feel smaller. Intimate. You’re not sure if you want to run away screaming or move closer to them. They’re magnetic, you’re just not sure if being pulled in or pushed away.

He takes your hand, an action that sends your heart into overdrive. His eyes light up, as if he can hear every rapid beat of your pulse. You scold yourself inwardly. Don’t be stupid, y/n, that would be impossible. 

“I’m Kol,” he brings your hand to his lips, laying a kiss that renders your knees weak against your knuckles, “it’s a pleasure.”

Your heart thunders at the feeling of his lips against your skin. You feel like a schoolgirl, dizzy from the slightest touch from your playground crush. His lips are warm and soft. Is this how princesses feel? God, you need another drink. 

“So,” Klaus steps towards you, his eyes swirling with something barely contained, “what’s this I heard about us giving you a night to remember?”

Your heart stops on the spot and you almost choke, not missing any of the implications behind his tone, “I have to head back to school tomorrow is all,” you breathe, trying to play off some of the heat swirling under the surface of your skin, “please, don’t let me keep you from the rest of your guests. I’m sure there are quite a few more important people than me here tonight.”

Elijah chuckles, the sound piling on top of the many other ones you’re already holding tight to, “the guest list is merely a formality, it would really be my pleasure to show you around.”

He holds his hand out to you, his eyes warm but challenging. You swallow thickly, a string of indecipherable emotions rushing through your chest, circling your lungs. You know it’s just a gesture so why does it feel like something more? Why does the thought of taking his hand feel like stepping into the rest of your life? You take a breath, squaring your shoulders and slipping your hand into his. Bring it on, destiny.

“Wait just a moment brother,” Kol’s fingers slip around your wrist, dragging down your palm until your fingers are locked together, “stealing her away from me so soon? I’m not sure I can let you do that.”

Elijah and Kol stare at each other, something wild brewing in their increasingly dark eyes. You tense, feeling like the rope in a game of tug of war. This doesn’t feel like a game, though, this feels real. You’re not a rope to be fought over, you get to decide what and who you want. Even if that’s all of them.

You squeeze both of their hands, drawing their attention back to you, “I’m sure this house is big enough for us to all comfortably go for a tour.”

Elijah’s eyes widen, dragging over you once more as if seeing you properly for the first time all night. He, like his brothers, lingers on the most delicate parts of you for just a few moments longer than he should. It’s a hole in his armor, a hint past the gentleman front. You want to leap at it and pull until all that’s left is the darkness swirling beneath his surface.

You glance at Kol who meets your eyes head on, a toothy grin already on his face, “marvelous, darling. What a great idea.”

He begins pulling you, and by default Elijah, out of the room but you halt, feeling a tad off. You look behind you at Klaus and sigh, your heart heavy. He stands tall but you catch his eyes and the way they glance at your hands, both of which are still being occupied. He squeezes his hands into fists, shoving them in his pockets. You tilt your head, pouting slightly at him. 

“Mr. Mikaelson, are you coming? Time is of the essence,” you nod your head toward the foyer, a coy smile on your lips, “we can’t can’t afford to waste any now.”

His face lights up instantly, walking towards you with flames dancing behind his eyes, “time isn’t real, love. Tonight we have as much of it as we want. As much of it as you want.”

You swallow hard. You want it all. 

Kol pulls you towards him, twirling you slowly, making your dress spin around your legs like a ribbon, “where to first, darling? What do you want to see?”

Your hands land on his chest, your cheeks flushed and legs wobbly from the spinning. His other hand goes around your waist, his fingers squeezing gently, his thumb pressing into your side in a way that makes you want to draw his body closer to your own. Your thoughts from before ring through your head. He makes everything sound special. More than that; he makes everything feel special.

“Everything,” you can’t tear your eyes away from his, you don’t want to, “show me everything please.”

He leans down, his forehead inches from your own. You can feel the heat rolling off his body even through his tux. It’s luxurious and mingles with the last dregs of the champagne. When combined with his scent, a nutty blend of cloves and cinnamon, you feel lightheaded. 

“Very well, darling,” his eyes flit to your lips, “everything it is.”

An arm snakes around your waist, pulling you away from whatever mischief is brewing beneath Kol’s honey eyes. He tilts his head at the person who grabbed you, his aura turning from playful to down right frosty. 

You turn away, breaking the hold of one Tyler Lockwood. Your ex. You squint your eyes. If you were a cat, your hackles would be raised. You wouldn’t claw his eyes out but you would be damn close. Memories from your senior year pour through your mind, twisting your gut painfully. You blink them away. Contrary to Klaus, you don’t have time for this.

“Tyler,” your voice courteous but cold, “what is it?”

He doesn’t catch your tone or, if he does, he doesn’t act like it. He reaches towards you again, no doubt to pull you into a hug, but you back away. Unlike with Kol, you don’t want to touch him. You definitely don't want him touching you. That part of your life is over.

“Y/n,” his voice is light, happy, “I didn’t know you were back! Mom didn’t say anything. How have you been?”

The atmosphere around you thickens. You don’t have to look at the Mikaelsons to see that their shoulders are tense. You feel them take a step closer to you, surrounding you with some much needed warmth.

You clench your jaw, forcing a smile on your face, “yes, well, I didn’t know if I was going to be home this weekend or not. University and all, I’m sure you understand. I’m fine, thank you.”

He nods enthusiastically and you grind your teeth slightly, wishing the floor would just swallow you whole. You dart your eyes to the side, briefly skimming Klaus as he rolls his eyes. Lily would be proud. Kol and Elijah don’t look amused either. You’re not sure how you know but you have to get them away from Tyler as fast as possible. The air drops another few degrees and you shiver.

“Oh well, no harm done!” Tyler steps closer to you, “say, how long are you in town? We should grab a bite at the grill.”

You drop your fake smile, your heart stinging slightly, “sorry, Lily and I are heading back tomorrow morning.”

You feel the boys once again tense, as if they don’t like the information you just shared. You don’t have time to think too hard about it though before Tyler closes even more space between you, grabbing your hand. You flinch back, hitting something hard and warm. The smell of pine trees, a whole forest of them, swirls around you as a hand circles your waist.

Tyler scrunches his brows, his smile slightly faltering, “tonight, then? I would really love a chance to talk. Catch up a little.”

You almost laugh. He just isn’t giving up. He can never make it easy for you, can he? The hand on your waist squeezes and you look over your shoulder, your heart stuttering. Elijah is staring at Tyler, something swirling under his irises. Whatever it is looks untamed. Not in the good way, like how he was looking at you earlier. No, whatever he’s feeling right now is dangerous. Time to go. 

“I really can’t, my night has been spoken for. Maybe next time, Tyler,” you turn to Elijah, “Elijah, did you say that you saw my mother looking for me? Would you mind showing me to her?”

Elijah’s eyes sparkle, clearly taking your hint, “indeed, she was right this way.”

He pushes you gently, blocking you from Tyler as he leads you out of the room. You can hear Tyler call out to you but you keep walking. Two other sets of footsteps join you, Kol grabbing your hand and twining your fingers together once more. When you break into the foyer you let the anxiety that had been building drain. That was more exhausting than you would like to admit. 

Elijah leads the four of you silently to a room off to the side of the foyer. He pushes the large mahogany door open, ushering you in before shutting it again. The smell of ink and old pages hits your nose and your mouth drops open at the sight. You’re in the biggest library you’ve ever seen. It’s like something out of The Beauty and The Beast, the ceilings high and the walls lined from top to bottom with shelves upon shelves of books. You break away from the boys, your fingers itching to touch what is no doubt an impressive collection of history. 

You hear a chuckle behind you but you don’t turn, your fingers skimming an older looking manuscript. Upon closer inspection the handwritten inscription on the cover reads Vonya i mir. Your heart stops and you quickly pull it from the shelf throwing all common courtesy out the window. This can’t be what you think it is. You flip it over in your hands, taking care not to crack the spine too much. Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy. 

You whip your head up, meeting three curious glances with wide eyes, “this is War and Peace! Like, the original manuscript. This is,” your heart pounds, your eyes glued to the yellowed pages in your hands, “this is history. I can’t believe I’m holding this.” Your heart stops, “Oh my, I should not be holding this! This belongs in a museum! What am I even doing, holding it like it’s nothing.”

You set it carefully on a desk behind you, looking apologetically back at them. Your cheeks heat rapidly. It’s very much not like you to go into a stranger’s home and start groping their collectables. You pull your lip between your teeth, lowering your head.

A hand gently grabs your chin, “you didn’t mention you’re a classic literature major, love.”

A small smile toys on Klaus’ lips, his thumb skimming over your jaw. Your heart stutters when he says love, warmth spreading through your chest. You reluctantly move your head from his hand, turning to motion at the manuscript.

“That’s because I’m not. I am a history major, with a focus on Russian culture. I’ve read War and Peace more times than I care to admit,” you smile lightly at the book, thinking about the hours you’ve spent pouring over it, “never in Russian, though.”

You glance back at Klaus, your hand flying once more to your bodice. He studies you carefully, his head tilted to the side. 

“And what do you think of it? Do you prefer the war or the peace?” He steps towards you, his words filling the almost nonexistent gap between your body and his.

Your breath catches. He’s close enough to touch and, gods, do you ever want to just reach out and pull him against you. First Elijah, then Kol, now him. You’re really gunning to end that dry spell in one night and three ways aren’t you? Heat creeps up your neck, your ears flaming at the thought.

“You can’t have one without the other,” you glance over his shoulder at Elijah and Kol, both of whom are hanging on to your every word, “war is inevitable but peace,” you look back at Klaus, “peace is fundamental.”

Klaus brushes a strand of hair from your cheekbone, sending shivers racing up your spine, “fundamental to what, love?”

His voice is low, his accent wearing down any reservations that you had at the beginning of the night. Your mother’s voice rings through your ears. Give me some grandbabies. She had clearly been joking but your body clearly has no concept of satire, heat pooling between your legs at the thought of making those babies. You close your eyes, sucking in a deep breath. It does nothing to quench the heat. You’re in the thick of it now and there is no escaping the white hot fire growing inside of you.

You sink your head into his hand, “happiness.”

An arm hooks around your waist, spinning you into a pair of spiced arms. Kol. You crack your eyes open and, sure enough, you’re correct. You shouldn’t have been able to guess that already. You’ve known them for no longer than an hour. This is insane. He lowers his face towards yours and your heart slams against your ribcage, his lips inches from yours. You swallow hard, your hands finding the lapels of his jacket. Instead of kissing you, however, he rubs his nose against yours. Oh. That feels nice. 

“What makes you happy, darling?”

You laugh softly, his question catching you off guard, “I’m not sure, to be honest. I haven’t had many opportunities to find out.”

“Well then, If you could do one thing that you think would make you happy what would you do?” Kol lifts a hand to your face, his thumb, like his brother’s, skimming your jaw. 

You don’t have to think about it, the answer is on your tongue as soon as he asks the question, “I would leave this town,” you glance down, the truth of your statement making you feel all too guilty, “and I’m not sure that I would ever come back.”

His thumb stills and you hold your breath. Perhaps you should have answered with something a little less full on. You haven’t even told Lily that you want to leave and never look back so you honestly have no idea why you just divulged one of your greatest kept secrets to three men you just met. Maybe because it doesn’t matter. Who are they going to tell, right? But no, that doesn’t feel right. You didn’t just tell them because. You had a reason, you just can’t put a name to it.

“I see,” he draws his thumb over your lips, an action that both surprises you and steals the air from your lungs, “and where would you go?”

Again, your answer is effortless, “everywhere, Kol. I would go everywhere.”

Kol smiles, his eyes lighting up with his grin. Your heart skyrockets, fireworks shooting through your chest from the slightest tilt of his perfectly red lips. They look soft; perfectly kissable. If only you had half of his self-assurance. What you wouldn’t give to run the tips of your fingers over his lips. 

His hands draw back down your sides, “what was going on back there? You didn’t seem pleased to be speaking to that,” Kol clicks his tongue distastefully, his accent thickening, “boy. Is he the reason you want to leave?”

You pull back slightly, your hands tightening on his coat. How are you even supposed to answer that? The story is a long one and there are very few enjoyable moments to lighten it. Tyler is not the reason you want to leave but you surely wouldn’t be doing yourself any favors by staying for him either. He’s part of a long past, one you’re not going to tell them about. Not today, anyway.

“It’s a long story,” you gently remove yourself from his hold, “one that I assure you none of you would care to hear. But to answer your question, no. Tyler has nothing to do with me wanting to leave. That’s entirely my own, for better or worse.”

He nods, the understanding clear in his honeyed eyes, “in that case, darling, tell me something else.” He pulls you back to his chest, “Do you like the stars?”

                                 *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

They left the party. Their party. They just up and left the party that they were hosting. You’re shocked. You were shocked when they dragged you out of the mansion and you’re still shocked now, laying on a blanket a few miles away with your mouth hanging open. You hadn’t thought anything of it when Kol asked you about the stars. You thought he was continuing with his little game of twenty one questions. You didn’t think he was serious! Who the hell just leaves the party they’re hosting?

Elijah shuffles his hands through your hair, pulling pins from it left and right and letting the hardwork your mother put into it fall. Yes, indeed you’re laying across the lap of one of the most eligible bachelors you have ever come in contact with, your face pressed against his warm thigh. Your fingers are wrapped around a bottle of the sweet champagne from earlier.

“You know,” you murmur quietly, your eyes locked on the spray of stars above your head, “when you host a party, it’s usually expected that you attend. Running away is frowned upon.”

He laughs and you can feel it through your entire body. It awakens the butterflies sleeping in your chest, sending them fluttering to your guts where the beating of their tiny wings create an inferno so large it sets you on fire from the inside out. You always wondered what it would feel like to be burned alive. You would have never guessed that it would make your toes curl.

“I thought that was what you wanted,” he drags his fingers through your scalp, the final blow to your once styled hair, “to run away. Here’s a start.”

You rub your cheek against his thigh, your face heating when he tenses at your action, “we’re pretty terrible at this running away thing then,” you hum, pulling yourself to your knees, “we only made it five miles. If I focus I think I can still hear the music. We’re lousy escape artists.”

A breeze blows over your shoulders and you shiver, your thin shawl doing nothing to veil you from the night. You’re just thankful it’s still warm enough to be outside at this time of night. Soon the nights will be getting colder and you won’t be able to do this. It’s one of the many reasons you long to move away. A pair of hands draws over your shoulders and you shiver again, this time from something entirely unrelated to the elements. You smile lightly. Maybe not. The Mikealson’s have more than proven that they are a force of nature.

Klaus’ voice is like ocean waves in your ear, cresting your skin with every low syllable, “well this is just the beginning, love. How far we go is up to you.”

He’s joking, of course. He has to be joking, right? You turn to look at him, seeking out his eyes in the darkness. They burn into yours, no hint of humor anywhere on his face. His gaze pierces through the night and your breath catches, your heart pounding at all the possibilities of what he meant. You bring the bottle to your lips, using the cool liquid to stall while you gather your feelings.

Kol takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth, “So, darling,” he kisses one of your knuckles, his lips like heavenly fire, “how far are we going?” Another knuckle, another kiss, “what is it you want?” He nips lightly at your fingertips and you gasp, the feeling akin to tiny zaps of lightning against your skin, “where do you want to go?”

Your head is spinning, the champagne settling once more over your bones, “I wouldn’t know where to start. There are too many places,” you swallow hard, “too many things.”

Klaus’ fingers toy at the straps of your dress, skimming down your arms with them in tow, “the first place that comes to mind, love. What is it?”

Elijah pulls you towards him, his hand sliding up the slit on your thigh and curling around your hip. His fingers whisper over your bare skin and you tighten your hand on the bottle. Not out of fear, though. No, you use the bottle to keep your hands busy. If your hands were empty you can’t be sure where exactly they would be. On who they would be.

Elijah squeezes your hip and you gasp again, this time louder, “New Orleans,” it’s the first place that comes to your mind, “I want to go to New Orleans.”

Time stills when you finally answer the question. You can hear the wind rustle through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. Three smells, each of their own element, wrap around you. Klaus’, like water, pouring over your back. Kol’s, like fire, burning up your arm. Elijah’s, like earth, sliding down your hips. You, the air, curl around each of them, pulling them close with your very essence. 

And then, with a far off howl, time unfreezes and Klaus rips the straps down your arms, “New Orleans, hmm,” He sweeps your hair back, his nose skimming down the side of your neck, “a woman after my own heart. When shall we go?”

You laugh, the sound breaking through the almost reverent atmosphere, “we can’t just leave, Klaus. You have to plan things. I can’t just drop everything and run to New Orleans.”

Kol pulls your arm through the strap, furthering the tantalizingly slow  process of peeling the dress from your body, “but you want to, darling. Am I right?”

His lips find the crook of your elbow and you almost moan, “of course you are but it’s not practical.”

Elijah tugs at your hips again, pulling you onto his lap. Kol and Klaus move with you, clinging to you like shadows. Kol’s hair tickles your arm, the soft strands brushing against you as his blazes a trail of open mouthed kisses up your arm. Klaus nips the back of your neck, his fingers wrapped in your hair and pulling lightly. It should feel wrong, you know it should, but by god how could something this ethereal possibly be wrong. Your body feels like it’s made out air and for the first time you’re free to breeze wherever you choose.

“Neither are we. It’s simple,” Elijah leans down, grabbing your jaw and steering you to meet his eyes, “would you like to go, y/n?”

Your heart stops when it hits you that they’re dead serious, “to New Orleans?”

It’s dark but you can still make out the smile on his face. It says it all, his words only reaffirming what your brain has been screaming at you.

“Not just New Orleans, darling, everywhere,” Elijah murmurs, his lips just in front of yours, his peppermint breath fanning your face delicately, “do you want to go everywhere?”

Just like that, your heart restarts, a rush of adrenaline spreading over your bones. Very rarely in life are you presented with the opportunity to go everywhere. You can’t even fathom what everywhere means. Surely there isn’t time to go everywhere, right? You suck in a breath, one that makes it feel like before this moment you were never truly breathing at all. Who cares if there isn’t enough time, you think to yourself.

You slide your arms around Elijah’s neck fast, nodding your head furiously in lieu of all the words that refuse to form a coherent sentence. You tangle your fingers in his hair, the strands like silk against your skin. You don’t take your time to admire it, though, you just yank his mouth to yours, smashing your lips against his and hoping it says everything that you can’t. 

His hands squeeze your hips again and this time you don’t hold back, moaning into his mouth with the force of the tropical storm building under your skin. Your dress feels much too tight all of a sudden, the sequined material biting into your flesh. You shuffle, pulling your other arm from the strap before wrapping it back around Elijah’s shoulder, your fingers digging into his back through his tux jacket. That needs to go too. Now.

“Darling,” Kol’s husky voice whispers against your skin, his face buried in the other side of your neck, “as beautiful as you look right now I’m about half a second away from ripping this dress off your body.”

His words barely register but you catch the important parts, peeling your lips from Elijah’s just far enough to utter, “please don’t rip it, it’s the prettiest thing I own.”

His hands, which are curled around the back of your bodice, stall momentarily, “well that won’t do, now will it?” He muses, his mouth skimming your shoulder with each word, “New Orleans is fine, you won’t need many clothes at all I’m sure. But Paris will demand more of us, darling. We’ll have to fix this.”

Your heart shudders, along with your body. Paris. Surely now he’s joking.

He opts instead to use the zipper rather than tearing it apart, his knuckles softly skimming your bare back as it becomes exposed to him. Inch by inch, cool air wraps around your skin. When he gets to halfway, his mouth begins following his hands. He nips at the bumps of your spine, biting down harder when he gets to the base. Your hands, which are still on Elijah’s shoulder, tighten as flames roll through your body. 

Klaus’ hands slip around you, tugging this time at the front of your bodice and pulling it down to reveal your bare chest. He pushes the fabric down your stomach, trailing his fingertips over your ribs as you arch into his chest, a string of incoherent praises falling from your lips. You’re pretty sure you murmur his name somewhere in there though, because his chest rumbles against your back and, before you know it, he pulls you up to your feet. 

“Klaus, what are you-” your words are cut short from the night, swallowed instead by lips which taste too much like oranges and rum for you to even consider trying to repeat yourself .

His tongue slips into your mouth, his hands flying into your hair, pushing it away from your face and using it to tilt your head to an angle that makes you see stars. The cold air sweeps over your breasts and you shiver again. It doesn’t last long before a pair of hands are sliding up your exposed sternum and over your chest, cupping your breasts. Kol’s cinnamon musk furls in your lungs as he pulls you into his now bare chest. His skin is hot against yours but you wouldn’t expect anything less from the flame made man. 

Klaus detaches from your lips, pressing them once more against your swollen mouth before moving down your neck. He pulls your skin into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the dip in your throat. He courses a river down your front with his mouth, stopping to leave little love bites all over your collarbones and shoulders before heading south. He falls to his knees, shrugging his jacket off before pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts. 

You moan, loudly, and thread your fingers through his hair, tugging him harder against you, “god, you’re too good at that,” you roll your head against Kol’s shoulder as Klaus lips flow over your skin, finding your nipple between Kol’s fingers, “we should not be doing this.”

Another pair of hands, the last pair, pulls your face to a pair of lips, the last pair of lips, “Is that what you think, darling? Do you want us to stop?”

Elijah’s lips skim over yours as he speaks, sparks igniting with each touch. You don’t have to think about his question.

“No,” you press your mouth against his assertively, “please don’t stop. Never stop.”

With that Klaus pushes the rest of your dress off your body and, well, the rest of the details of that night remain between you, Kol, Klaus, Elijah, and the stars.

                               *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

You lean your head against the cool leather of the seat, your eyes closed as the wind whips your hair behind you. You’ve never ridden in a convertible before but, much to the trend of Mikaelson fashion, it’s luxurious. Elijah slings his arm around your shoulders and you smile, cracking your eye open to glance at him. His hand is on the wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead of him. He looks peaceful. Happy. He looks over at you, tossing you a wink before turning back to the road. Butterflies flutter through your chest and you welcome them with open arms.

You glance in the rearview mirror, your grin growing when you see two sleeping men. Kol is leaning back, his mouth half open as soft snores fall from his mouth. You giggle quietly. Last night must have exhausted him. He wears his slacks still but now, instead of his jacket, he wears a wine colored hoodie. His hair is mussed and you swallow thickly, thinking back to how it felt between your hands.

You move to Klaus, shaking your head slightly to defuse your slowly heating skin. He, too, no longer wears his jacket  but, unlike Kol, he only has a t-shirt on. His arms are folded under his head as he leans against the seat. His body is relaxed, his legs spread in front of him. You yawn looking at him, fighting the urge to crawl over your own seat and into his lap.

“Are you tired, love?” Elijah’s voice mixes with the wind, floating over you like music.

You meet his glance for a moment, smiling sheepishly, “yes but it’s nothing.”

“You should try to sleep,” his voice is slightly concerned, his eyes slipping over your bruised skin before turning back to the highway, “we still have about seven hours before we’re even in Louisiana.” 

You stifle another yawn, pulling the sunglasses on your head over your eyes as the sun breaks over the trees blurring past you, “not yet, Eli. I don’t want to miss anything. I’ll sleep when we get there.”

You hear your phone beep from the bag at your feet but you ignore it. That’s another thing that you’ll wait until the Louisiana state line for. Instead you lift the book on your lap, your fingers skimming delicately over the words on the cover. Vonya i mir. Your heart warms as you open it to the first page, settling into the leather seat. Elijah looks over at you and chuckles, the sound even more musical than last night. This is going to be the easiest seven hours of your life.

[ppersonna]

tempestuous - kth | m

tem·pes·tu·ous - adjective - characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion

↳ summary- There’s no one who riles you up more than Kim Taehyung, your best friend’s brother.  He knows exactly how to make you fly off the handle.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 6.8k

↳ pairing- taehyung x reader

↳ genre- smut, minor angst i guess in the form of fighting, this is one big pile of smut, there’s some fluff too

↳ warnings- yikes where to begin.  angry sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don’t be like dis), slapping, spanking, pain kink, dom/sub elements, facefucking, really rough sex, finger sucking, derogatory names, uhhh name calling, hate sex, tae is fuckin nasty yall im thriving

↳ a/n- I HAD TO REUPLOAD bc tumblr sucks lol well folks. here we are.  i was given a prompt by @ladyartemesia​ so i blame her.  as for tae, he really came for me this week and completely wrecked me, love that for me. i really popped off here and it’s only edited by me so i’m SORRY if there’s a lot of mistakes.  fun fact i actually wrote almost 10k of another version of this but it frustrated me so badly i scrapped it lmao  🤡 HERE WE GO! Enjoy!  feel free to send in your requests and i promise to try and get it done for you! 

Kim Taehyung could only be described in a few words.

Infuriating, bothersome, vexing.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, suave.

Absolutely, inherently maddening.

And you hate how much you absolutely melt underneath his gaze, the way your heart leaps into your throat with a single word.  Your body, the ultimate betrayer, opens up to him as your brain screams to abort, reverse, go back to start and do not pass go.

Kim Taehyung is not just the bane of your existence, no.  He’s the little brother of your best friend, Kim Namjoon.   Joonie had been in your life since you were in first grade and he in second.  Taehyung was your age, but you hit it off with the older boy and haven’t separated since.  Your mothers joked that you would get married one day and continue on the Kim line.  Until they found out that Namjoon was 1) bisexual and 2) hopelessly in love with, ironically, a man named Kim Seokjin.   He reasoned to his parents that they would at least carry on the Kim name.  

Where Namjoon was sweet, caring, and deeply compassionate towards you, Taehyung was his alter.  Taehyung was brash, cocky and relished in watching you squirm, whether it be out of fury or the god forsaken sexual tension.  All growing up, he was the one to pull your pigtails, trip you into puddles of mud, and tease you in front of your friends. Namjoon, ever the faithful companion, was always there to pick up the pieces of what Taehyung broke.

It’s been that way with Taehyung ever since. A constant tug of war with each other, both unwilling to give a single inch to the opponent.  

Your relationship with Namjoon remained steadfast as ever.  Namjoon eventually moved in with his now-husband, Seokjin, who easily settled into your life as an additional partner in crime.  You spent most of your days and nights settled into the couch, snuggled somehow in between or next to one of the two men you cherished most.  You had the two best friends you could ask for and a happy life, blissfully Taehyung-free.

Until it wasn’t.

A loud knock wakes you from an unexpected nap on Namjoon’s couch.  Your eyes crack open against the glare of the sunlight streaming through the windows.  It takes a moment to gather your surroundings.  You recognize that you’re in Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, and judging by the silence, you’re definitely alone there.  As you reach for your phone, the screen lights up the time.  5:34 pm.  Well, shit. You remember eating brunch and drinking mimosas at noon with your best friends and then lying on the couch to watch Netflix.  How had you fallen asleep for five hours?  How did you not wake? What the fuck did Jin put in his mimosas?

The knock is insistent again, louder this time.

“Joon! Jin! it’s me! Open up!”

The voice sounds familiar in your sleep-addled mind, but not quite enough to pinpoint it.   You push your limp body off the couch and wince at the feeling of sore muscles.  Couch sleeping isn’t all it’s cracked up to be once you’re past the age of 25.

“Sorry, Namjoon isn’t here-,” You open the door to explain to the guest and you’re cut off.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You rub at your sleepy eyes and allow your vision to focus, only to feel your blood stand still in your veins.

Kim Taehyung.  Of fucking course.

“What do you mean, why am I here? I’m always here,” you tut as you fold your arms to your chest.  “What are you doing here?”

He rolls his eyes and holds up his hands, two suitcases clutched in each.  Who the fuck carries 4 suitcases up three flights of stairs? Kim annoying ass Taehyung does, apparently.

“I’m moving in.”  He pushes past you and into the living room.  

Your mouth gapes open.  Namjoon certainly didn’t tell you this.  Taehyung looks back at chuckles at your reaction.

“I’m guessing your best friend didn’t tell you the happy news?”

You shut your mouth, quickly jumping back into composure.  “No, he failed to mention that,” you sniff.  “I thought you lived with your girlfriend in Gangnam?  What was her name? Rose or whatever?”

Tae stiffens, just slightly for a moment, before he plasters back on the bravado.  “Obviously not anymore.  We broke up, she kept the apartment.  Got tired of moping at my mom’s house and I told Namjoon I wanted to come back to the city.”

You feel a slight tug at your stomach, guilt, perhaps?  You clear your throat.  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He laughs as he sits on the couch, instantly throwing his feet onto the coffee table, like a heathen.  “No, you’re not.”  

“What do you mean, no I’m not? God, sorry for being polite!”

This, you reason, is why you can’t sustain longer than 5 minutes of civilized conversation with your best friend’s younger brother.  He’s impossible.

He just smirks, and you know he loves the rise he gets out of you.

“Because I know you, and I know you don’t give a fuck about my love life.”

Au contraire. If only he knew just how much you gave a fuck.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be nice to you!” you nearly stamp your foot in frustration but hold yourself back. That would be too good of ammo for him to use against you.

“Okay, fine,” he acquiesces. “Whatever helps you feel you’re a good person.”

You’re seeing red and you know you want to continue screaming at him but you will not stoop to his level.

“Christ, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re still an asshole,” you say as you grab your keys and shoes. “And also, Jin will kill you if he sees your feet on his coffee table.”

You whip yourself around and open the door to leave and hear him call over your shoulder.

“Good to see you too, doll! Love the hairstyle, by the way.”

You close the door with a growl leaving your throat.  The absolute audacity of that man.

You stomp towards the elevator to take yourself to the ground level, when you catch your reflection in the shiny metal. Your hair is in what you can only lovingly call a complete hornet’s nest. It’s ratted and sticking out in places and you feel your cheeks burn.  Your first reintroduction with Taehyung is with a fight AND with you looking like a fool.

This would not do. No, sir.

“Kim Namjoon!” you shriek into your cell phone.  You’re awkwardly pressing it against your ear with your shoulder as you walk out of the convenience store under your apartment building with 3 bottles of soju and a six-pack of beer. You needed to drown your shame and sorrow, and fast.

“Hello, love of my life and moon of my stars,” your best friend replies and you can hear Seokjin chuckle in the background.

“No!” You chide, already cracking a beer open as you storm into your apartment building. “Don’t you Khal Drogo me, mister! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me your fucking asshole brother was moving in with you?!”

Namjoon is silent and you can tell he’s wincing on the other end of the phone. “Oops?” He offers.

“Yeah, big oops! A heads up would have been nice! Like, ‘hey best friend, your worst enemy of all time is moving in today. Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep on my couch and wake up looking like Frankenstein’s ugly wife. Oh, and also my handsome boyfriend and I will just happen to not be there when he arrives’.”

By this time, you can tell Namjoon has put you on speakerphone because you can hear their rich laughter loud and clear. Rude bitches.

You stab your key code into your door and lock yourself in, chugging as much of the beer as you could handle.

“At least, even in her rants she thinks I’m handsome,” Jin gloats.

“I’m sorry babe,” Namjoon sighs as he finally calms down. “I didn’t know he would be there today. I just found out about it last night.”

You nibbled at your bottom lip, the annoying pit in your stomach feeling simultaneously guilty that he went through a breakup, unbridled joy that something brought him down a peg, and just a dash of excitement that he’s single now.

You let out a breath. “It’s okay, Joon.  It just surprised me to see him.”

Jin butts in, “And because you have a big, fat, unresolved crush on him.”

“Jin!” You admonish. The couple laughs again and you roll your eyes, asking yourself why you put up with the two. “I do not!”

They both hum a non-committal answer, implying they don’t believe you in the slightest.

“Whatever.  What are you guys doing, anyway?”

“We just got home from shopping.  God, Jin looked so good in these jeans he tried on.  I was actually just about to suck his coc-,”

“Kim Namjoon, do not finish that sentence! I do not wish to hear it!” You try to remain firm, but dissolve into giggles with the pair.

You could never stay mad at Namjoon long, even if his brother was the devil incarnate.

“Darling,” Jin calls through the phone.  “I still expect to see you at our place tonight for our sleepover.”

Christ, you had forgotten all about your scheduled sleepover night.  It was tradition and one of your favorite parts of your friendship with the couple.  Jin, a literal chef, prepared a five star meal along with dessert for you while you binge watched Netflix and talked incessantly.

But you also usually slept in their spare bedroom.  The exact one that Taehyung would be occupying.

“Fuck, while he’s there?”

“Oh suck it up,” Jin chides, like he’s your mother. “He’s probably not even going to leave his room.  You’re not getting out of this.  I’m making strawberry cheesecake.”

Your mouth waters at the idea of Jin’s famous cheesecake.  

“Fine, but I get to lick the bowl and not Namjoon.  Those are my terms.”

Namjoon squawked in defiance as Jin laughed.  “I agree to your terms.  Be at our place by 8.”

As you hung up the phone, you checked the time.  6:40.  God, he hadn’t left you with much time to get ready, did he?

And you definitely needed to get ready.  There was no way you were entering a room where Kim Taehyung exists looking like booboo the fool, not again.

Your fingers press the 6 digit passcode to Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, arms heavy laden with your bag of toiletries and pajamas, and a bag full of wine.

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce as you toe off your shoes and slide into the combined kitchen and living room.

You receive no reply, but greeted with the amused face of none other than the object of your filthiest dreams, Taehyung.

“Pet names already?  We’re moving pretty fast, wouldn’t you say?” He asks you as he lounges at the kitchen table.  He watches you open the fridge to set the wine, as comfortable in their home as you are in yours.

“Fuck off,” you grumble. “Where’s your brother?”

Tae seemed absolutely tickled by your disgruntlement.  “I think they mentioned something about taking a shower.  That was 20 minutes ago, though.”

“Great,” you sigh. “Those fucking horn dogs act as if they’re still newlyweds.  We’ll be waiting awhile.”  

You tug off your sweater, leaving you to remain in a fitted tank top and yoga pants.  You tried to maintain a comfortable look as you dressed for the evening, while keeping in mind which leggings hugged your ass and showed off your toned thighs, and a tank top that dipped low to your cleavage.  Okay, so maybe you had ulterior motives. You wanted to make up for your dreadful appearance earlier and make him squirm, payback for the years of him doing it to you.

You watch him as he lets his eyes roam your body, eying you like he wants to ravage you completely. You feel victorious… and also turned on. Fuck, you played yourself.

You flop onto the couch in a huff and Tae snorts before joining you.

“What’s so funny?” You eye him suspiciously.

“Nothing,” his smile feigns innocence. “I’m not allowed to laugh?”

You sniff in annoyance, not eager to fall for his tricks. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, your highness.”  Sarcasm drips from your voice and Tae finds it even more humorous.

“I see you’re still a sassy bitch.”

You gasp, audibly startled by his language and rise from the couch, fists clenched.

“I see you’re still a conceited dick!”

He rises to meet you where you stand, eyes boring into your own with his stupid sexy grin on his face.  “I see you’re still not one to back down from a fight.”

You step closer, close enough to feel his breath on your face.  Idly, you note it smells like peppermint and you move closer on reflex.

“Yeah? I see you’re still not one to avoid starting a fight in the first place!” you huff.

“Oh, I started it?”  

“Yeah, you started it! You called me a bitch!”

You can’t believe this is happening.  You feel as if you’re 6 again and fighting with him over a toy.

“A sassy bitch, actually,” he corrects, taking another step forward, bodies touching.

“Fuck you!”

“Only if you say please,” he quips before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours in a scorching hot kiss.

There’s not even a moment of hesitation on your end, immediately pulling him even closer and wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing his tongue entrance to your mouth.  Your body reacts to his instantly, as if it’s wired to respond to him and him only. Your mind was blank of anything except Tae, only Tae please, and you acted purely on instinct alone.  And instinct was pulling him closer and begging, more, anything he could give.

The sound of laughter coming from the hallway pulls you apart, neither of you wanting to get caught by Namjoon or Jin.  You stare at him, his lips are cherry red and slightly swollen and the image burns into your retinas.  He has such pretty lips after you’ve kissed him.

“Oh hey! What’s going on here?” Namjoon asks as he notices the intense eye-battle you’re engaged in with his younger brother.

It shakes you out of the spell, eye contact broken and hypnosis halted.  

“Just, errrr,” you falter to find the right words to explain the situation.

“Just getting reacquainted.”  Tae sounds completely unaffected, as if the passionate kiss you shared with him seconds ago was but a distant memory.  Asshole.

“I’m surprised you two haven’t thrown anything at each other yet,” Jin laughs. “Or thrown yourselves at each other.”

Both you and Taehyung whip to look directly at Jin.

“Her!?” Tae is incredulous. “Gross.”

You’ll never admit out loud that his words wound you.

“You’re an asshole, Taehyung,” you punctuate your words by turning away from him and towards Namjoon, who appears amused as ever.

“Ah, I love when my best friend and my little brother are screaming at each other.  Feels like old times.  Can one of you cry now to complete the moment?”

Taehyung grumbles under his breath, something you can’t catch, and stalks off to his room.  The slam of his door reverberates in the apartment and Jin jumps and turns to yell down the hall at his brother-in-law.

“Yah! Don’t break my apartment! I still owe money on this!”

Despite Taehyung’s appearance every so often in the kitchen or living room, the rest of the night goes on with no annoying disturbances.

Jin spoils you and his husband with expensive food, and the best cheesecake you’ve ever eaten in your life.  Plus, you’re given the bowl to lick clean despite a desperately adorable pout from Namjoon you were sure would persuade Jin.

You’re settled on the couch, snuggling in the middle of the couple as an action movie flickers across the big screen tv.  Truthfully, you haven’t paid attention to a single thing happening, your thoughts entirely too absorbed in Taehyung and that deliciously infuriating kiss.  

Why did he do it?  You couldn’t comprehend his reasoning.  Perhaps he was doing it to piss you off.  He’s never angered you with that level of intimacy before, but you didn’t put it past him.

You’re surprised when the credits of the movie start rolling and Jin and Namjoon fake loud yawns.

“Oh man, I’m beat,” Namjoon lies.

Jin is quick to join. “Me too, I think I’ll pass out the moment I hit the pillow.”

You roll your eyes at the men. “Will you two please go fuck already, I know that’s what you’re going to do.”

Namjoon blanches, but Jin laughs and kisses your cheek. “Ah, my smart, beautiful and chaotic child,” he coos. He leans in to your ear, voice low to keep his husband from listening. “I don’t think I’m the only one in this house who’s going to get pounded into a mattress.”  

He pulls back and winks at you, deftly ignores Namjoon’s confusion and sadness of being left out, and drags him to their bedroom with a loud ‘goodnight’.

You’re left to stew in your own emotions, which is never a good thing.  Was the tension that obvious? You always assumed it had been one-sided, but the kiss befuddled you more than you’d like to admit.

It finally snapped in your mind, all the dots connecting. That’s why he did it.  

He kissed you so you’d stew and simmer and eventually erupt, like you’re doing now.  Taehyung knows you too well for your comfort.

You grab your bag of clothes and storm towards the bathroom to change, promising yourself to forget about the kiss and not give Taehyung what he wants.

Except you’re not very good at promises, especially to yourself.

You can’t say you’re excited to sleep on the couch again.  While it’s a nice couch, it’s definitely not a bed and your back will pay the price tomorrow.  You supposed it was better than the floor, but not by much.

After dressing in your pajamas, a purposefully picked out combination of tiny shorts and a sports bra in case Taehyung happens upon you, you return to your bed for the night in the living room.

Namjoon graciously left blankets and a pillow out for you, and you’re complaining internally about Taehyung the whole time you make yourself a spot to sleep.  If it wasn’t for stupid Taehyung and his stupid existence, you’d be sleeping like a baby on the guest bed that you loved.  But no, they relegated you to the couch like an animal.

Sleep was not in the cards tonight, it seems.  You toss and turn and try to press at the cushions to move a lump around and get comfortable, but it’s all for naught.  You’re wide awake and very, very uncomfortable.  You didn’t understand how you fell asleep on this very couch earlier in the day.  Maybe the mimosas you had at brunch with the couple had been helpful.

A thought crosses your mind. Alcohol.  Maybe a nice glass of wine would help tuck you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.  A nightcap. Of course.  You were angry at yourself for not thinking of it hours ago.  

You slipped out of your disagreeable bed and into the kitchen, trying not to make a sound.  Jin’s beloved kitchen was also an echo chamber of noise, even the slightest sound bouncing off its walls and amplifying it through the whole house.  You still remember the way you jumped five feet in the air when Jin accidentally broke a plate.  It sounded like a bomb explosion.

You bite your lip as you carefully pry the cabinet of wine glasses open, careful to not even allow a squeak of a hinge.  You silently beg to stay silent and not wake anyone in the house.  You didn’t want to be caught drinking wine at 2 am in the dark, that’s difficult to explain without looking like an alcoholic.

With glass in hand, you tiptoe the fridge to pull out the bottle of merlot, thinking the heavy red wine would be the best to get you sleepy and quick.  

You tug the cork from the bottle and pour a healthy amount into the stemware with a smile.  Liquid sleep.  And you had done it without making a single sound. Perfection. The smell of the alcohol permeates through your nose as you lift the glass, placing it to your lips to take a sip.

“Wine at this hour?” the unexpected voice of Taehyung echos through the kitchen, making you yelp and jolting you hard enough that you drop the hard-earned glass of wine to the tile floor, red wine splashing as the sound of glass shattering is reverberating off the walls.

“Fuck!” You screech at the intruder.  Taehyung doubles over, laughing as if he’s seen nothing funnier than what just transpired.  “You asshole!”

You listen past Taehyung’s incessant laughter to ensure the owners of the apartment hadn’t awoken during the ruckus. You definitely did not want to face a tired and agitated Jin to tell him you shattered one of his Tiffany crystal goblets.

Beyond Tae, the house is silent and you’re thanking whatever god is listening for keeping your best friends asleep.

The wine is everywhere, spilling into the cracks of the tile and splattered on the walls.  The crystal stemware is too; it shattered with such force that you see flecks of the shrapnel in all four corners of the room.

Tae wipes a tear from his face and you square a tempestuous look at him.  

“Fucking help me!  You made me drop it!”

Through snorts, he replies. “I didn’t make you do anything.  You did that on your own.”  Although he is arguing with you, he’s gingerly stepping into the kitchen and kneeling to pick up shards of glass.

“I wouldn’t have dropped it if you had come into the room like a fucking normal person,” you grit.

He collects the glass, the delighted grin on his face now permanent.  He’s relishing in your annoyance, you know he is, and it burns you from the inside out.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me.”

“You could have turned on the light! Why were you in the dark like a freak?”  You’re grasping at straws, anything to pin this all on him.  It would quell the fire in your belly to push it all onto him, make you feel as if you’ve won.

Taehyung levels a look at you.  “And you weren’t also in the dark? Pouring a gallon of wine for yourself?”

Your cheeks flare red. Fuck, he definitely caught you there.  You’re playing verbal poker with him and the hand you’re dealt falls flat compared to his royal flush.  He grins, knowing he has you.

“Fuck you,” you snark, you go to insult when you’re backed into a corner.

“Ah, doll,” he winks.  “We talked about that.  Be careful what you wish for.”

The fire inside you is roaring to an inferno now, flames licking to your core. It’s a complicated mixture of anger and sexual energy. It’s infuriating that he’s able to make you feel every single emotion to the extreme. You hate that arguing with him turns you on, like it’s some perverse foreplay.  

You moisten your lips with your tongue as you process his words, and Tae’s eyes hungrily track the appendage as it glides over your lips.

“Fuck. You.” You emphasize perfunctorily.

All thoughts of wiping up the mess are forgotten as Tae drags both you and himself off the floor and steers you to the living room, lips feverish against your own.  He pushes you into the couch and tugs his shirt off, before replacing his lips to yours.  

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you’re a bitch,” he groans as he snaps the strap of your sports bra. “Seeing you get all worked up makes me so hard.”

He’s not wrong. You can see through his mesh basketball shorts that he’s sporting an impressive package, rock hard in its clothed prison.

“Yeah?” You bite at his lip.

“Hell yeah.”  His hands work to the elastic band under your bust and tugs the offending material off, tits springing free as he throws it to the floor.  

“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathes as he gets a good look at your chest.

You shake them gently, grinning as he watches them jiggle.  “You like what you see?”

He smirks and pinches a nipple, wiping the coy smile off your face and turning it into a moan.  “I like when you’re mouthy, but don’t push it.”  

He lowers his head to the nipple he’s still pinching in his fingers, licking at it and replacing his fingers with his mouth.  He’s moaning around the nipple, and you’re gasping for more.  His hot mouth sucks at you, teeth nibbling and pulling it until you’re whimpering in delicious pain.

“Fuck!” He cries as he pops away from your nipple.  “You’re so fucking hot.”

Your body warms at his words, arousal pooling between your legs.  You’re sure that your thighs are drenched in your essence.

He slurps your neglected breast into his mouth, ensuring your nipples are equally abused.  His tongue is skilled but his mouth is messy, saliva dripping all around your tit and it’s the hottest fucking sight you’ve ever seen.

He’s pulling away again and pinching both nipples with his hands simultaneously. “And you’re so fucking annoying.”

You’re pleading for more or to stop, you’re not sure.  He continues.

“Mm, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re a good little bitch for me. Listening to every fucking thing I say.”

He releases your nipples, and you finally find the ability to focus again, staring directly at him.

“Oh, you think you’re that good?” you sass as you attempt to catch your breath.  “Put your money where your mouth is.”

Tae grips your chin roughly, face inches away from yours with a sadistic grin. “You’re going to regret those words, baby.”

Instantly, he’s standing up and tugging his shorts down to let his cock spring free.  Your brain misfires as you visually measure his cock and your mouth goes dry. He’s thick and long. The bulbous head is dripping pre-cum, begging you to slurp it up.

“How about I put my money where your mouth is,” he suggests as he grabs a fistful of your hair.  

He teasingly rubs his cock on your lips and cheeks, makes you whimper with need. Your tongue is sticking out, desperate for him to lay it on you.

“Already so fucking greedy,” he grunts and in one motion, directs his dick into your open mouth. “I’ll fuck your throat, yeah? Greedy bitches love getting face fucked.”  He is still for a beat more, eyes searching yours for consent and you nod with his cock still in your mouth. He winks, then begins a rapid pace, his cock fucking into your mouth and throat.

You’re sure you look like a goddamn mess with saliva dripping from your mouth as Taehyung punishes your throat with his thrusts.  You gag and moan around him, and he tightens his grip in your hair as you see stars.

It’s indescribable. Never have you felt such pleasure from sucking cock, but Tae commands your entire body, willing you to drip with anticipation.

“My little fuck toy, god you feel so fucking good,” he hisses. “You’re gonna swallow my cum, baby.”  

His hips are stuttering, he’s close, and you’re sucking him harder, cheeks pulling in harder to vacuum him in. The pressure makes him groan out loud.

“So good, so fucking good. Get ready for your prize, baby,” his voice cuts off in a gasp, as his cock twitches violently. His legs shake and he doesn’t hold back the moans of his orgasm, gasping as he feels rope after rope spill down your hot throat.

Your big doll eyes are twinkling up at him, lips still wrapped around his cock. Taehyung is sure it’s the hottest thing he’ll ever see in his lifetime.  You on your knees, subservient to him and thriving for it.

“Mmm, I like it when your mouth is full like this,” he slowly pulls out of your mouth, albeit reluctantly. “Can’t talk back to me when you’re sucking my cock like a whore.”

You smile and stick out your tongue, pleased to show him you happily accepted his cum.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos as he grips your chin again. “Did you like my cum?”

You nod, brain fried from the heat of the room.

“Use your words,” he grits and grips your jaw harder. It’s enough to shock you into compliance.

“Y-yes! Fuck, I love your cum, Tae.”  Your words are breathy and raspy, throat raw from his barrage.

“I knew you would, filthy slut.  Sit on the couch.” He orders and you’re quick to scurry and sit on the makeshift bed you made.

His hands are tugging down your shorts quickly. No teasing or seduction here, not now. You lift your hips, and he throws them aside. Your legs close on reflex, making him growl.

“Do not hide yourself from me.” His tone is dark and you can’t help but shiver as you open yourself up to him. You want to talk back, want to fight and bite at him, but you’re quickly losing the ability to even speak, and you’re aching for him.

“Where’s my mouthy little bitch? You’re awfully quiet. Did I finally break you?” He teases, pressing your legs upward, knees to your ears. It’s pornographic how on display you are for him, soaking wet cunt front and center.

“The great Taehyung thinks he can break me with his cock,” you mewl, mustering all the false confidence you can. You’re lying through your fucking teeth and you both know it, but you continue. “You’ll have to do more than that.”

Your pussy is quaking with need now, desperate for a single touch. His hands maintain purchase on the backs of your thighs, holding them up.

“There she is,” he bites at the flesh of your leg closest to him which makes you jerk in his hold. “Gonna fuck the brat right out of you.”

He removes a hand from your thigh and you’re quick to pick up the slack, holding the thigh in place to maintain his open show of your pussy.

“Try me,” you murmur, and you’re instantly regretting your words as a harsh slap descends and lands square on your cunt.

You nearly scream, pain flooding your wanton pussy, before turning into delicious pleasure that stings and tingles right at your clit. It sizzles, and warmth blooms where his hand was.

“That’s for not believing me.”  His eyes are feral and you want to bottle this memory forever.  

Another slap has your legs trembling, eyes rolling back as the burn turns to a low heat.  You’re dripping your wetness down onto the couch and Jin will kill you, but you don’t care.

“That was for calling me a dick,” he smirks.

Smack.

Tears spring in your eyes as the slap brings more pleasure than pain, desperately close to your edge.

“Look at you, you could cum just from this, couldn’t you?”

“F-fuck! Yes, please, I need more, please!” Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for friction and leaking out of you like a faucet. Taehyung marvels at you, legs spread so far, with a cunt weeping with arousal for more. He can’t wait to dive in there, but he’s not finished with you yet.

“More? I don’t know if you deserve more, baby, you’ve been awfully mean to me,” he tsks, breathing hot air on your clit, making you whine.

“P-please! I’m sorry!” You’re sure you will black out with how desperately you need him. You need him more than you need oxygen.

“Beg.”

You’re quick to submit. Thoughts of fighting back are long gone, you’re his wanton little slut now.

“Please, please! Pleaseeeee, make me cum! I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He asks with an arch of his eyebrow.

You’re nodding wildly, gazing at him with desperate, watery eyes.

“Anything, I need you so f-fucking bad it hurts!”

By the time the words leave your lips, he’s thrusting two fingers into your cunt viciously, fingering you ferociously. He arches them, rubbing against your spongy g-spot and making you scream. He knows you’re close, knows you only need one little push off the edge. He plays your body like a skilled practitioner.

“Cum on my fingers, baby. Let me see my greedy little bitch milk my fingers.”

Your body and mind react accordingly, deep down you know your body is owned completely by him, all his.  Your orgasm explodes and you think you actually scream, your vision is black and your hearing goes silent for a moment as you cum harder than you have in your life.  You’re squeezing his fingers with your pussy so tight and Taehyung is gently licking all the juices from his hand with his fingers still inside you.

It takes time to descend from the separate plane of existence Taehyung sent you too, but you come back and watch as he laps at the liquid of your cunt and on his hand like it’s a vital necessity. His fingers remain in your walls, and he refuses to break eye contact with you. You’re positive you could cum again from the sight.

“My little cockslut tastes so good, just how I like,” he tells you tenderly. “Like cherries, so sweet.  My little cherry.”

Your cunt is aching and warming back to life as he pulls his fingers out of you. The loss is immense and you’re whimpering for more.

“Ah, ah,” he hushes you. “No whining. You’ll take what I give you.  Suck my fingers clean. Taste yourself.”

He presses his fingers into your mouth, earning him a sigh, the taste of you filling your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and suckle each one to ensure your tongue laves the entire surface.

“Fuck,” he whispers and it’s his first crack in his steel reserve. “Needy.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and presses against you to kiss. It’s gentle, sweet, and nothing compared to the man assailing your pussy with slaps moments ago. It thrills you just the same and you return in kind, threading your hands in his wavy hair.

He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, a moment of gentleness you actively welcome.

“This little cunt ready for me?” He whispers and you’re whimpering your reply.

“Please, fuck me. I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your lips again, sweet and chaste, before he pulls away and slides down to attach those same sinful lips to your pussy.

It’s so unexpected you flinch and manage a cry as his tongue slurps up more of your delicious essence and his mouth moves to suckle on your clit. You’re not sure where the fuck he learned these tricks, but you know now you will never let him go.

“Taehyung!” You cry at the sensation. “Fuck!”

After receiving the reaction he was desperate for, he slips his tongue into your walls deep and gathers as much of you as he can, before he’s pulling back and swallowing you down.

“I couldn’t resist. Your cunt was made for me to devour.”

He doesn’t allow for a response as he throws your legs over his shoulders and lines himself up at your core.

“Condom?” He asks you, and you level a quick look at him.

“I don’t live here! I don’t have any!”  You’re savage, terrified he’ll pull his cock away when all you want and can think about is the way he’ll feel pounding into you.

“Don’t be rude, baby,” he reminds you with a swat to your ass. “I’m clean, promise. You?”

You nod quickly, reveling in the spank’s tingle. “Same. I have an IUD too,” you sigh. Thank god for medical birth control implants.

“Good. You’re the only pussy I’m gonna fuck from now on,” he promises. You know you must talk about this later, when you’re thinking rationally and not with your aching pussy.  

Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat but all is forgotten as he plunges into your tight heat.

“Ohhhhh shit, ahhh,” he gasps. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”  He’s on the verge of whining, becoming just as needy and greedy as you.  He wastes no time in setting a pace.

His cock fills you completely, his angle allowing him to go as deep as he can, pressing the beginning of your cervix.  This is surely what heaven feels like.  It feels like the completeness you feel with Taehyung fully sheathed inside you.

It comes alive with flames and explosions as he fucks you, hips pistoning to plunge in and out of you with tenacity.  He fucks you like he laces every single thrust with more, more than just sex. He fucks you with purpose.

You’re moaning like a pornstar now, high pitch wails and gasps and breathy moans are all you can manage. “Taehyung, yes! Feel so g-g-good!”

“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Make sure all the neighbors know who fucking ruined you,” he nearly spits, cock thrusting into your core at an impossible speed. “I want you to tell all of Korea who owns you. Who owns this tiny little cunt?”

The wind leaves you, and you’re gasping for air, gaping mouth open as you try to reply. It takes him fucking into you harder a few times before you feel it rush back into you.

“You, Taehyung!  You!  Fuck, I love your cock!”

His thumb rubs at your engorged clit, allowing it the friction it seeks.  He bends forward and wraps his other hand around your throat, squeezing.  

Losing air combined with the friction on your clit has you keening, so close to the edge. You try to babble his name but nothing comes out.

“Look at my pretty little slut taking my cock so well,” he praises.  “You have the greediest pussy, don’t you? You need my cock daily, baby. Need to put my mouthy bitch in her place, remind her who’s in charge.”

He slows his pace but his thrusts are punishing, fucking into you as hard as he can. Your orgasm is climbing so impossibly high.

“F-fuck!” You gasp as he releases his grip on your neck. “Gonna cum! Please let me cum!”  

“Yeah baby, cum for me.  Cream your greedy pussy all over my cock.”

The world stops spinning as you hit the height of your climax and plunge down.  Your vision goes black and your body is quivering and convulsing nearly as hard as your cunt is. Taehyung hisses at your walls sucking him in, as if you’re begging for his cum, begging for more.

“Fuck, good girl, baby, holy shit,” he’s breathless and so close.

You’re overstimulated, boneless, but he wrought two of the best orgasms you’ve ever felt in your life and you’ll be damned if you leave him high and dry.  You bite your lip as you move with him, hips pounding against each other. His face is scrunched up and you know he’s close when he’s stuttering on his words.  You take over for him.

“Please cum in me baby, please.  Fill me up. I’m yours, baby, mark my little cunt as yours.”  You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you keep it going. It feels as natural as fucking him does. “Please, Taehyung!”

At the sound of his name leaving you in a whine, he spirals down his own completion. He feels his cock pulse as he empties his load into you, your walls still reverently beckoning for him. He’s calling out your name, grasping at your tits as he finishes and you’re smiling from ear to ear. Your pussy is warm with his seed and you’re positive it’s the way you want to feel every single night.

“Holy fuck,” Taehyung rasps as he pulls his cock out of you. He thrills as he watches his cum follow, slipping out your folds and down your thigh. “I definitely marked you.”

You hum in reply, finally allowing yourself to soak in the haze of orgasmic bliss. Tae presses his head to yours again, kissing you sweetly.

“Come sleep in my bed?” He asks. He means more behind it. He wants to ask you to sleep in his bed every night, stay with him every day, be the one he grows old with. He knows there’s still more to talk about, wounds of the past to heal, but now you’re with him, and he knows he’ll work through anything.

You nod, and kiss him again, understanding his hidden meaning laced in his words.

A sly smile spreads across his face. “Last one to bed has to take the blame for the wineglass,” he teases. Your head spins as if you’ve got whiplash.  He can switch from dominating to sensitive to the little shit he is so quick.

“Hey! No fucking fair! You fucked my ability to run out of me!”

“Shouldn’t have been such a sassy bitch,” he winks before he tears away towards his room.

“Taehyung, you’re an asshole!” You call as you limp your way behind him.

From behind Joon and Jin’s door, a critical voice bellows, “YAH! I’ll kill you if you got your jizz on my couch! And what is this I heard about my glass!!? HEY!  Those are TIFFANY. CRYSTAL. THE DISRESPECT!”

You slip into Taehyung’s bed and wrap yourself around him, the two of you gasping with mischievous giggles.

Kim Taehyung will always be the one who knows how to drive you wild. He’ll always aggravate and infuriate you, send you reeling.

But now you didn’t think you minded it at all.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[arofili]

I love reading what you write! It's always such good, easy writing no matter what it's about! Do you have any Russingon fic recs? I'm new to Ao3 and still figuring it all out.

Aww thank you so much <3 <3 that means a lot! and YES I have lots of Russingon fic recs! These are all taken from my bookmarks and I know there are other great fics out there, but these are ones that I have saved and come back to frequently!

(I’m also going to plug my Russingon fics bc I write them a lot and I’m pretty proud of some of those works!)

Blessed Hands Will Break Me by @absynthe--minded - WIP currently at 139k, lots of worldbuilding, from Fingon’s discovery of Maedhros’ capture to the Mereth Aderthad - Absynthe is an amazing Russingon writer, absolutely check her stuff out!

“whoso list to hunt” by vauquelin (elftrash) - 3k oneshot, post-Angband, 1st person Fingon POV - another incredible writer

“Old Pains” by @zealouswerewolfcollector​ - ficlet, post-reembodiment, Maedhros is unsure of reality

Did My Heart Love Till Now? by @absynthe--minded​ (with art by @felixwhetsel​ !) - 5k, Years of the Trees, masquerade shenanigans <3

“stay thy mind, and all the rest” by @mc-dude​ - 25k oneshot, get together, Fingon visits Maedhros in Himring, the ANGST and LONGING gahhhh !!!

“commit (to the bit)” by vauquelin (elftrash) - 4k oneshot, Years of the Trees, FAKE DATING FOR WORLD PEACE, this author has a GIFT for prose and the subtlety of interpersonal interaction

“cliffs of fall” by @arrivisting - 3k oneshot, nonlinear narrative but generally focused on post-reembodiment reunion with Complicated Feelings - another author with a truly inspiring talent for prose, I reread the wedding scene in this fic at least once a week and it never fails to make me emo

In Equal Measure by @siphilemon - WIP currently at 108k, time-travel fix-it, bullet point fic, not just Russingon but they’re the ones who time traveled and anyway their parts make me go insane

Your colors by @elesianne - 2 chapters, 3k total, Years of the Trees and then Beleriand, gift-giving and anniversaries and dirty talk, so tender and loving, Elle’s Russingon always hits me right in the heart <3

“Like the old season” by Tyelperintal - 1.8k oneshot, post-Angband, Maedhros and Fingon take a walk in the woods, super sweet

“Gifts of the Heart” by @wren-of-the-woods - 10k oneshot, Years of the Trees, really lovely get-together fic, gift-giving, just super sweet and fun

Our Houses Bound Together by @senalishia and @z-h-i-e - 5 chapters, 17.2k total, arranged marriage AU!!, mutual pining, lots of drama, very fun

“just one safe place” by sunflower_diode - 2.1k oneshot, post-Angband, homoerotic haircutting

“All About Your Heart” and its sequel “At Last Broke Silence, And The Ice” by @admirablemonster - first fic is 2k, second is 8k, modern AU ft. aspec Fingon and genderfluid Maedhros!!!, get together, family drama, ice angst <3

Life after Death by Sylanna - WIP currently at 69k, Fingon-centric post-reembodiment fic, slow moving and contemplative, the author is truly the sweetest person ever

What Is Wrought Between Us by @nikosheba - 90k series (with plenty of smut too), complete, canon compliant, ranges from the Years of the Trees all the way to after the Dagor Dagorath, a truly incredible work

“Kindness” by justonelastdance - 1.6k oneshot, Maedhros in a fucked up mental state post-Angband, hurt/comfort - this author writes a lot of Maedhros whump so if you like this check out their other stuff too (this one is just my favorite)

and under the cut, some smut recs....

smut recs

In a Jeweled Crown by @absynthe--minded - 3 chapters, 12k, complete, Fingon’s coronation and the aftermath - this one still makes me go nuts every time I read it

Reconnecting by nyromes - a series with 2 parts, 9k total, first time post-Angband + first time Maedhros bottoms post-Angband

“Bright Defiance” (1.7k) and its companion fic “Very Good” (800 word ficlet) by @edgeoflight - two oneshots, Fingon coaxes Maedhros’ story out of him post-Angband + some PWP - these are some of my favorites, I come back to them frequently

“all your perfect imperfections” by @stormxpadme - 1.8k oneshot, stumpfucking, I’m biased bc this was written for me but I do love it very much, Himring era

“These Games We Play” by @edgeoflight - 1.7k oneshot, the original stumpfucking fic, Himring era

A Surprise At Home by Findecutie and MayGlenn - 25k of pwp, Years of the Trees, newlyweds, crossdressing - part of the much longer Russ and Finno Verse but this was my intro to that verse and it’s good on its own!

“Fuath” by yeaka - 3k oneshot, first time, some truly disturbing manipulation by Melkor but the Russingon here fucking destroys me ;-;

“Rozanne” by yeaka - 2.8k oneshot, Maedhros recovering from Angband, I once saw someone use the phrase “lovingly described blowjobs” and that’s basically this fic

“Sleeve” by yeaka - 2.4k oneshot, trans!Maedhros, Years of the Trees, Fëanor invents the condom for Maedhros and Russingon are incredibly eager to try it out, they’re SO IN LOVE here it gets me every time

Passion and Anxious Care by LiveOakWithMoss - 12.5k total, 2 fic series, modern AU, oh my god they were roommates, get together and then first time, this is another one I return to frequently - this author is/was a BNF a few years ago but hasn’t been active recently

“For nimble thought can jump both sea and land” by TheLionInMyBed - 2.2k oneshot, palantiri foolishness that leads to video sex basically, Beleriand era - another BNF who is/was buds with LiveOakWithMoss

Treat me soft but touch me cool by LiveOakWithMoss and TheLionInMyBed - 4 chapters, 18k total, swoon kink/medical kink, relationship difficulties that are resolved, Beleriand era with a final chapter post-reembodiment, love this one

“Enthroned” by @ultraviolet-eucatastrophe - 4.5k oneshot, throne sex, fealty kink, King Fingon era

“A Disgrace to the House of Finwë” by @edgeoflight - 2.3k oneshot, get together/first time, Years of the Trees, they’re just super sweet together <3

“What Happens in Himring” by teasoni - 3.4k oneshot, reunion sex, Himring era, fealty kink, this fic is tagged “finally some dicks get sucked!!!!!!” and I think about that tag every time I write a Russingon blowjob jdkfhdkj

“a light in darkness, hope in woe” by @admirablemonster - 4k oneshot, trans!Maedhros, surprise baby Gil-galad in the middle of the Bragollach

“A lord and his prince” by @ultraviolet-eucatastrophe - 3.1k oneshot, early Beleriand era, reunion sex, super sweet and fluffy

“Made of Lava” by @edgeoflight - 2.1k oneshot, Years of the Trees, tender get-together fic with a kind of silly premise

Bend, bruise, beg by LiveOakWithMoss - 5 chapters, 13k total, part of a larger modern AU but tbh I haven’t read the main fic in that verse and this absolutely stands on its own, Maedhros discovering his kinks, chapters 2 (first time) and 4 (butt plug shenanigans) are my favorites

“in a field of stars” by Nacht - 3.4k oneshot, Years of the Trees, first time/get together, the writing style here is really unique and sticks with me

“a sword once sheathed” by @mc-dude - 3.5k oneshot, Beleriand era, reunion sex, the amount of horny longing is truly astonishing

Of Flight and Freedom by @admirablemonster - 2 chapters, 6.6k total, wingfic/wing kink, first time/get together, the Rescue and its aftermath

“Thorns” by yeaka - 2k oneshot, post-Angband, Maedhros with lousy self-worth, Fingon who punishes him with love, bondage

The Ice Between by angrymermaids (who has a tumblr but I don’t remember the url oops) - 7 chapters, 33.5k total, Beleriand era, piecing their relationship back together / trying to get back to being intimate, focus on Fingon and his trauma from the Ice

“much too tall for a boyfriend” by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor - 4.7k oneshot, fem!Maedhros x budding-transmasc!Fingon, Years of the Trees, I think about this fic ALL THE TIME I kind of want to write a sequel to it sjfdhdkjh

“the beat of your heart as my hand touches your skin” by @admirablemonster - 5.3k oneshot, part of the Elves in Pon Farr series, Years of the Trees, heat fic/mating cycles, first time/get together, Maedhros’ first heat catches him by surprise while on a camping trip with Fingon, accidental soulbond

“Beneath the Blanketing White” by @nikosheba - 2.3k oneshot, Himring era, pwp, cameo from little Gil-galad at the end

“What I Am (When I’m With You)” by @thatfeanorian - 5k oneshot, part of a larger modern AU, married fluff, Fingon with baby Gil, ends with some lovely smut, this was written for me so AGAIN I’m biased but I do very much love this one

“open your body and soul to me” by @the-quiet-fire-of-defiance - 2.3k oneshot, Years of the Trees, trans!Maedhros, pregnancy, exhibitionism, sex toys, they’re so in love that it drives me crazy, I can’t stop thinking about this fic djfhkjd

“Like the Golden Fire in Your Eyes” by @sianascera - 3.8k oneshot, Years of the Trees, Maedhros invents nipple piercings, extremely fun <3

[sweetiejunie]

It’s Because I Love you

Summary: Soobin dug himself into a hole and needed his bestfriend to help him out

Genre: Fluff, Friends-to-lovers, Slow-burn(ish)

Word count: ~10k (oops sry)

💕 Requested 

A/n: to the anon that requested this. I’m so sorry this took me forever... haha~ I hope you liked it! And writing this actually reminded how much i like writing these. Do you guys prefer these kind of longer fics or the shorter reaction type fics?

Warnings: Some swearing

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      “Y/n i fucked up.”

      Was first line that came out of soobin’s mouth when you opened the door. It wasn’t unusual for soobin to randomly show up at your place. But you really weren’t expecting his presence today, since you knew he would be busy packing to head home for the week break. You were about to greet him but before you could say anything, he beat you to it, his sentence laced with regret and panic.        “What did you do this time?” You answered, “aren’t you supposed to be packing?”        “I- excuse you what do you mean ‘this time’?” He mocked. “Okay, whatever, we’ll get back to that and yeah, i am, but I fucked up real bad,” he repeated.        “Huh?” You took a step back so soobin could enter. “Are you alright? What happened?”       “So you know how all my cousins and sibling are in a relationship right?” Soobin continued, making his way to your couch to sit down. Resting his head back against the cushions as he groaned.       “Yeah, what about it?” Tilting your head as the conversation got more confusing by the second. You closed the door behind you before joining him.        “Well... my brother just called me and may have been bothering me about being the only one that isn’t in a relationship...” he trailed off, “and erm, i may have said i... had a girlfriend. And now my family wants met her.”        You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his confession, “you did what? You really dug yourself into a hole this time.”        Soobin was the youngest of his family. He was always the one that chose to focus more on his grades than actually making friends. Sure, he went to parties and drank every now and then, but other than that, he rarely did anything short of the ‘perfect son’. But despite all his efforts, there was always one thing his sibling could tease him about, and that was the fact that he was 21 and has never been in a relationship. Soobin always tried to not let this bother him, but i guess today, he just snapped.        “I really did,” he sighed. “That’s why i need your help.”        “How can i possibly help you out of this, soobin?” you ridiculed, glaring at him. “You do know that you’re one of my only friends, right? Meaning, I won’t be able to find anyone to play girlfriend with you.”         “Um, actually about that... i kind of told my family that my girlfriend goes to the same school as me and studies the same major as me. I also kind of told them that she has y/e/c eyes and y/h/c hair.” He sat up, looking for a reaction from you. Instead, all he saw was your blank expression, staring back at him. “Yeah so, if you hadn’t caught on yet, i might have, sort of, just described you to my family.”         Your eyes widened at his statement, you weren’t sure what to reply. You met soobin all the way back in high school, and you’ve stayed friends ever since — 5 years, 11 months, 23 days, to be exact. Not that you were keeping count or anything. You remember the first day you approached the shy boy, the new transfer student sitting at the back alone. He was the first friend you made there. And to makes things worse, you’ve had a crush on him, but you knew better than to confess and possibly ruin the friendship.         You’ve suppressed all your feeling since then. Maybe. Probably. Okay, no. But you’ve tried. And all this talk of ‘pretend girlfriend’ did nothing but make your heart start racing again.        “Why on earth would you do that!”        “I dont know! You were the first person that came to mind! So are you okay with doing me the favour of playing the role of my girlfriend?” Soobin said with a slight pout and puppy dog eyes. A move he knew you could never refuse, “You’re free this break, right?”        His sudden confession was like a blow to your heart. The first person that came to his mind... but it’s probably just because he didnt have many female friends, right?        “Erm...” you paused. The more you thought about his proposition, the more you found yourself weighing the consequences.        “Come on y/n. Please? We already get engaged every other week at clubs for free drinks. This won’t be that much different.”        “Would your family believe it? I mean, it’s me.”        “Sure they will. And it’ll be easy to fake it since you already know me.”        You paused for another second before replying. “Hm, right. Fine. But you owe me. Do i have to bring anything?” You were helping out a friend.         A friend. Nothing more, nothing less.        “Nope, just bring enough clothes. You don’t need anything too fancy,” he stood up, leaning down to give you a quick hug. As he walked towards the door, he looked over his shoulder before leaving your apartment. “Thanks for doing this, i really owe you. I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow after our classes, alright? See you then.”

————-————-————-————-

        After an hour, three outfit changes and completely unpacking and repacking your luggage twice, you were finally satisfied and ready to go. It was only a weeks worth of clothes in a small luggage, yet, you still found a way to overthink it. In the end, you had settled for a simple tee with jeans and a coat to keep you warm for the ride.         Already, you were beginning to regret your decision of going along with this whole ‘fake girlfriend’ act. It had nothing to do with soobin or his family. They were absolutely wonderful, his parents were kind, his siblings were fun and sweet and his baby nephew was, well, a baby. The only problem was what if your heart liked the idea of being his ‘girlfriend’ just a little bit too much?         You had met his siblings and parents a handful of times when they visited him at his apartment. They’ve always been nothing but nice to you, and now, you were going to have to lie to them. The more you thought about it, the more your mind was playing angel and devil with you. On one hand, you didn’t want to spend the weekend being dishonest and possibly screwing up the image soobin’s family had of you. But on the other, you wanted to be selfish and be able to call soobin yours, even if it were just for a few days.         You sighed quietly, sitting in your living room waiting for soobin to pick you up like he said he would. The entire day you had been unable to focus in your classes, whatever your lectures said just going right through your head. At this time on fridays, you would normally have found soobin dressed in any lounge wear he had, crashing at your place to watch whatever movie he found that week. But now, you were going to find him dressed up, ready to bring you to meet his parents. The relationship sure escalated quickly. Just as your mind started drifting further, your doorbell rang.        “U ready?” Soobin’s signature eye smile greeted you, his front bunny teeth exposed. You’ve always noticed how soobin’s appearance resembled that of a bunny, but no matter how many times you tried to tell him, he didn’t want to believe it.        “As ready as ill ever be,” you returned the smile, grabbing your luggage and locking your front door.        Well, this was it, no turning back now. Helping you with your things, soobin lead you to his car and started the journey. It was only about a 3 hour drive and a car ride proved to be a great distraction. You hadn’t been to soobins hometown before, so being able to look out the window and see the scenery was no doubt better than sneaking glances at soobin in the drivers seat. You just knew that if you saw soobin, with one hand on the steering wheel, and the other propped on the arm rest, you might have gone into cardiac arrest.        The ride was quiet for the most part, that was until soobin pulled up at a red light. “I made a playlist,” soobin flipped his phone around to show you and connect it to his car. “It’s like, if you were my real girlfriend, this would be the playlist i would share with you.”        You couldn’t help but smile when you realised how sweet soobin would be in an actual relationship. His future girlfriend is really lucky. But you had to control yourself, reminding yourself that it’s all just pretend for the week.        “I’m sure its great. You have great taste in music,” you faked a laugh. “Um... so... soobin? How exactly are we supposed to fake this? I mean, what we supposed to do? What will your family do?”        “Oh...” he started, his eyes focusing back on the road, the lights turning green again. “To be honest, i haven’t actually thought about that part yet.” Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought. “Mmm, when my brother first brought his girlfriend home, my family teased him a lot, just to make fun of him and get her reaction. But they already did that with you whenever they visited me so... I’m not sure what they’ll do, honestly.”        “Oh...” That was completely unhelpful. Pulling your knees to your chest, you continued staring blankly out the window.        “Hey, don’t worry too much okay? We’ll just wing it like we do everything else. And that’s worked out for us so far, right?” Soobin chuckled, trying to comfort you. “As for what we need to do. I guess it’ll just be all that couple stuff like holding hands and hugging. And you’re already such a cuddly person, that shouldn’t be a problem for you. We got this, alright? And I’ll be with you the entire time.”        You nod a response, “yeah, we got this.”        On the outside, you tried to seem cool and composed. On the inside however, you were a mess. Sure, you and soobin already had your fair share of cuddles when he showed up for a movie night at your place. And on the days he was too lazy to go back to his dorm, you would find him whining and groaning for you to make him breakfast the next day. But now you were expected to act that way in front of his family? That was a whole new level of stress you didn’t think about when you agreed to this.         After a while more of driving, it was a little over 10pm when soobin finally pulled up alongside the curd in front of his house. The remainder of the car ride had been relatively silent, except for the playlist that soobin had made for you, and the occasional mindless singing you would start that turned into a carpool karaoke. Getting off, soobin unloaded his and your luggage and lead you to the front door.        Probably noticing your nervous state, soobin grabbed your shaking hands. “I’m right here alright?” He smiled, “it’s show time.”        With that, he rang the doorbell. And not 15 seconds later, soobin’s sister answered the door.        “Soobin!” She greeted, pulling him into a hug, “we’ve been waiting for you and- oh! Y/n! I knew it. Same major, y/e/c eyes, y/h/c hair. If it wasn’t you, i was about to kick his ass.”        “Hah, yeah, surprise?” You said, the last part sounding more like a question than a sentence.        “Aish, this boy. The previous night on the call, he just told us he’ll be bringing his girlfriend home, gave us a description but never told us who. Left us all to wonder who she was and well,” she chuckled, putting an arm around soobin’s shoulders, “if she even existed. I’m glad it’s you, the first time we met you, i already knew you two would end up together.”        “Wait, so you all took guesses on who it was?” Soobin chimed in, shooting a glare at his sister.        “Well, yea! All of us pretty much guessed y/n. Except for mom though, she’s kept quiet about it. But i guess it was just because she didn’t want to get her hopes up.”        Looking at soobins annoyed expression, you laughed. Shrugging of his sisters arm, soobin grabbed both your luggage, pushing past his sister and pulled them into the house. “Alright, alright, just let us in already, its freezing out here.”        “It’s nice to see you again y/n,” his sister said as she held the door open for you.        “Likewise.” You smiled before stepping in.        You’d never been to soobin’s house before. Sure, you’ve seen bits and pieces of it when the two of your FaceTimed over the holidays, but never in person. In the hallway where you stood, were the stairs that you presumed lead to the bedrooms. Sporadically placed were a few house plants that looked as if they had been watered quite recently.  The walls were littered with family photos, and most noticeably, soobin’s baby pictures. You smiled looking at them, taking a mental image of the cute, little baby this giant once was.        Closing the door behind you, soobins sister spoke, “you guys wait here. I think mom and dad are in the living room. I’ll go get them.”        As you saw her silhouette disappear towards one of the entries, you felt the nerves building up again, “soobin...” you tilted you head up to look at him, your face portraying nothing but worry.        “Don’t worry okay?” Taking your hand in his, gently squeezing for reassurance.“ Just follow my lead and pretend you’re in love with me. Which should be easy since I’m your favourite person,” he joked, in attempts to lighten your mood.        ‘Pretend to be in love with him’. Okay, shouldn’t be too hard, considering the fact that you actually were in love with him and spent years pretending not to be. “Yea, alright.”        Letting go of your hand, soobin walked forward to hug his parents when he saw them approaching.        “Soobin, we were starting to wonder how long more you would take,” his mom said. “How are you? How’s everything at school?”         “Everything’s fine,” he replied. Turning to you, he held out his hand for you to take. “Mom, dad, you know y/n.”        Accepting his hand, you stepped forward to greet his parents. Just hoping that your nervous trembling wasn’t too obvious to the naked eye.        “Ah of course! How could we ever forget,” his mom smiled.        “We always knew the two of you would end up together eventually. He’s always been so obvious about you,” his dad added, causing blood to rush to your cheeks, and soobin to immediately retaliate.        “Dad! Stop it. No i have not!” You looked around at him just in time to see him cross his arms and roll his eyes, cheeks pink and eyes shining. He met your eyes and looked away, but the grin on his face never faltered.        Hitting her husbands arm, soobins mom scolded, “aish, stop teasing them, they just got here. Speaking of which, have you two eaten?”        “No we havent, actually. We came right after school,” soobin answered.        “In that case, you can take yours and y/n stuff up to your room and get settled in. I’ll order some food for you. Pizza sound okay?” his mom spun soobin around, pushing him back to where your luggage laid.        “His room?” You thought out loud. Of course they were expecting you to share a room with soobin. What else could you have possibly thought.        “Of course his room,” his mom answered, “you have known each other for such a long time. And i have no doubts there are days that soobin stayed over at your apartment instead of his dorm anyway. There’s no way I’m letting you sleep on the couch.”        With that, you and soobin grabbed your things and headed up to his room. Sure, the nights soobin stayed over you have shared a bed before. But this time, it just felt different. Even though everything was still purely platonic, the element of you being in his home, pretending to be his girlfriend, was still no doubt intimidating.        “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Soobin asked rhetorically, snapping you out of your thoughts. He laughed, clearly taking the whole situation a lot lighter than you were.        Opening the door to his room, it was exactly how you pictured it when he called you. You stood at the doorway, it seemed so familiar, yet unknown at the same time. His bed in the corner of the room with a few pillows and plushies, at the other end, his desk and wardrobe filled with clothes he left behind. His walls were mainly bare, except for one that had a few old polaroids hanging loosing from the ceiling. It felt weird being there.        “Well, don’t just stand there,” soobin grabbed your luggage from you, pulling you in to the room so he could close the door behind you and crashing down on his bed. “First, let me give you the official welcome to mi casa. My family is a lot, but you already knew that. Make yourself at home.”        “Honestly, i cant believe they bought it so easily,” you let out, taking a seat next to him.        “Told you they would. My family probably loves you more than they love me.”        You laughed halfheartedly, still feeling a bit awkward about the whole thing.        “We should clean up before we head back to the wolves den for dinner. The bathroom is right down the hall to the right. You can go first, ill clear a drawer for you,” he offered.          You nod, gathering your things for the night.        This is all just pretend.

————-————-————-————-

       The shower definitely helped calm you down a bit. You loved the warmth of the water against your skin.        “It’s just for a week. Dont get used to it,” you muttered to yourself.        Getting out, you quickly dressed yourself in a tshirt and some shorts. The normal attire you wore to sleep, anything else was always just uncomfortable for you.          “You’re turn,” you announced when you entered soobins room again.        “That was quick. Here, take one of my sweaters.”        “What for?” You shot him a look, raising brow. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t stole his hoodies before, it was just the fact that he was offering it this time.       “You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, aren’t you? Girlfriends always take their boyfriend’s clothes.”        Fishing a plain, red sweater out from his wardrobe, he threw it in your direction, hitting you directly in the face and causing you to yelp a little. “Besides, you already take all my hoodies. This is no different,” he continued, eyeing you as you pulled it over your head.        As usual, soobin’s clothes were huge on you. And this sweater was no doubt oversized, even for him. “How do i look?”        You looked to him when you didn’t get a reply. But this only caused him to turn away from you quickly, mumbling something to himself before answering, “it’s my clothes, it’ll look great on everyone.”        Scrambling to gather his things, he left for his shower. You could have swore you saw him blushing when he was looking at you. But you brushed it off as your overactive imagination. You decided to swiftly blow dry your hair before laying on his bed, scrolling through your phone while waiting for him. You were hungry, practically starving, but there was no way in hell you were going to face his family again on your own. With your new status, god knows what they would do or say.        A mere 15 minutes go by before you hear the door open again. Revealing a damp haired soobin, dressed in a white tee and sweatpants. A simple look you have seen many times over the years, but one that still made your head and thoughts hazy.        “Ready to go down?” He spoke, smirking at you, almost knowingly, “I’m starving.”        “Ye- yeah,” gathering your thoughts, bringing yourself back to reality.

————-————-————-————-

       Dinner with the family wasnt all that bad. Sure, there was the occasional teasing and questions. But that was to be expected. Any parent would have been curious, right?        You let soobin take the lead on most of those. You didn’t want your cover to get blown by having any clashing answers. Once in a while you would feel soobin grab your hand under the table when he needed your help, but for the most part, they were the basic questions like “since when?” Or “who confessed first?”. The usual relationship stuff, nothing too hard. And it was a lot easier with the fact that it was you and soobin, the two friends that have mastered the art of bullshitting your way out of situations.         At the end of the day, the awkwardness ended soon after it started. With it being past midnight, Soobin’s family had long gone to bed, leaving you two alone in the dimly lit kitchen to finish up your dinner, which had quickly became supper.        “So, how was day one of being my girlfriend?” He looked over to you, munching on another piece of pizza. Even in that horrible lighting, he still managed to take your breath away. No one could possibly look good with dull, ugly, yellow kitchen lighting, but somehow, he did. The way the soft light bounced off his skin, partnered with the reflection in his eye that gave that perfect shine to them. You were sure you looked horrid next to him.        “Mmm, it’s alright i guess,” you teased, earning a pout from soobin. “You big baby. I’m just kidding,” nudging him on the shoulder, causing you both the laugh.        You didn’t know why this question surprised you as much as it did. Maybe you wanted to flip the tables, or maybe you just weren’t expecting the answer he gave. “So how was day one of having me as your pretend girlfriend?”        He thought about it for a second before facing you and speaking. “Honestly, it’s been fun. Even though we haven’t done much. But then again, i always knew you would be great girlfriend to someone one day.”        ‘Someone’. If only you could tell him how much you wanted that someone to be him. If only you had the guts to say what’s was on your mind.        “Want to play some music?” Breaking the silence, soobin picked up his phone, quickly scrolling through his playlists before stopping on one he named ‘midnight’. “It’s just some chill songs i found that i thought would be nice to listen to at night.”        The playlist started and the first song to play was ‘what falling in love feels like’.        “Oh, i love this song,” you mindlessly stated between bites.        “Really?” Soobin replied. “I never heard you listen to classical music.”        Your eyes widened slightly when you realised what you said. You didn’t just listen to classical music. You’ve also imagined what it would be like to slow dance to it.        “I never really told anyone... but i always wanted to dance with someone to this song. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit,” you trailed off, the surface of the counter suddenly becoming more interesting. The dead of night had you confessing unspoken words.        There was another second of silence. You could feel soobin’s stare on your face. He was judging you. You were sure of it. Now you were just mentally preparing yourself for a laugh-        “Let’s dance.”        “What?” You weren’t expecting that. You shot your head up, seeing his outstretched hand.        “Let’s dance,” he repeated.        You reached for his hand, but didn’t grab it. You were hesitant. Never would you have thought you’d be slow dancing with your crush — of over 3 years, in the kitchen of his childhood home — at midnight.         He held you hand, helping you to stand before twirling you into his arms. He lead your hands around his neck and his around your waist. You fell in step, letting the rhythm control your movements. Your eyes gazing into his brown, glistening ones, a soft smile on his face. It felt like a dream. Your surroundings and any other disturbances dissolved. It was just you and him. Right here, right now. You stayed like that, dancing. Everything felt just... perfect.        “You know i’d never judge you right?” He said, his eyes watching your expressions closely. “I know that’s what you were thinking earlier.”        You looked away, unable to find the right words. Soobin always had a way to read you so easily. Every once in a while he would remind you how expressive your face was. And you were certain a blush had crept to your cheeks when you heard soobin chuckle.        “You silly girl. You can tell me anything. You know that. After all, you are my best friend.”        “Right... best friend,” you offered a small smile to mask the resignation in your words.         And just like that, the song ended. Soobin let go your waist. Leaving nothing the ghostly feeling of where his hands once were and the sensation of having his body so close to yours.        “It’s nearly 1am. We should go to bed soon,” he nodded towards the clock on the stove. “You can head up first. I’ll clean up here and join you in a bit.”        You nodded. Once you were back in his room, you crashed on his bed. Regret and agony the only things left for you to feel.        Why did you agree to this. You knew it would be hard. But not this hard.        You rolled over to your side of the bed. And true to his word, soobin entered shortly after. Climbing under the covers with you, poking your side when you paid no attention to him.        You jumped, immediately facing him. “What was that for!?”        “Nothing,” he laughed. “It’s just fun to do that to you. I have a fun day planned tomorrow, so get up early. Good night y/n.”        “Good night, asshole.” You scoffed.

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.

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       The next morning you woke up to a post-it on your head. You tore it off and looked around the room but soobin was nowhere to be seen. You groaned, sitting up to stretch and read the note.        ‘Wake up sleepyhead. Come to the kitchen for breakfast.’        Oh, how you wished the entire night before had been a dream. But alas, it wasn’t. Pulling yourself out of bed, you cleaned yourself up and descend the stairs. The smell of fresh pancakes engulfing the entire house.        “Good morning y/n,” soobin’s dad greeted you when you entered the kitchen. “Grab a seat. Breakfast is almost done.”        “Your dad cooks?” You whispered as you pulled out the stool next to soobin.        “Mainly breakfast. But yes,” he whispered back.        Soobin’s dad placed a plate in front of each of you. 3 pancakes a piece, and more to come. “Butter or maple syrup?”        “Both,” soobin smugly answered.        “And you y/n?”        “Ill have both as well, thanks,” you smiled before facing soobin. “Where’s your mom and sister?”        “My mom went to the store. And my sister doesn’t get up till later.” Soobin grabbed the syrup his father had just put on the table and poured a generous amount. His attention was fully on his food.        You couldn’t help but grin at his childlike manner. He always loved breakfast. Or any dish that can be both sweet and savoury actually. You both enjoyed your breakfast, watching soobin’s father flip pancakes, cheering when it landed, and messing around while cooking as your morning source of entertainment.        “The pancakes are really good, mr choi,” you complimented.        “Why, thank you y/n. You always have been such well mannered,” he said. “Hopefully some of that will rub off on my son soon.”        “Hey! I am well mannered,” soobin retorted.        “Oh, really now,” you taunted, giving him a look of disbelief.        Soobin tsked, lightly pushing you over. “Okay, whatever. Anyways, hurry up. I’m going to show you around town today.”        “You two don’t come back too late now,” his father added. “And bring a coat, it’s supposed to get colder today.”        Stuffing down the remainder of his food, soobin linked your arms and dragged you out of the kitchen the moment he saw your plate empty.        “Hey! I’m not done yet, i wanted one mo-!”        “Bye dad!” Soobin interrupted, ignoring your plea.

————-————-————-————-

       “So much being well mannered.” You mocked.        “Not my fault you wanted to eat so much,” he shrugged.        Both of you strolled along the road. You weren’t sure where soobin was bringing you, other than his aforementioned ‘town’. Despite it just being the two of you, soobin still dressed nicely, in a turtleneck and scarf with a black coat to go over it.        “Wait...” you started, noticing a passing sign. “Why does that say the town is the other way?”        “Cause i changed my mind. I’m bringing you somewhere else,” he replied, shooting you one of his, oh so charming, eye smiles. “I’ll bring you to town another day.”        “This way’s to the forest,” you raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning to kill me or something? After 6 years of friendship. This is how you want to end it?” You dramatically gripped your chest and joked. “I’m sorry for whatever i did. I can change, I swear.”        Soobin rolled his eyes and guffawed. “Of course. This has been my plan all along. To befriend you then brutally murder you among the trees where no one can find your body,” he played along. “Relax, I’m no murderer. An avid liar? Maybe. But not a murderer. I just want to show you something.”         You hummed a response and continued on your way. Not long after, soobin was leading you down a path in the deserted forest. As the path reached deeper into the woods, the trees got denser.        “Erm, soobin, where are we going?” You called from behind him. “I’m really starting to question the whole murder thing.”        You’re not going to lie when you say the woods kind of crept you out. You could have sworn you felt someone behind you. But when you turned around, there wasn’t a soul. The twigs and dead leaves making a deafening crunch under your feet as the — seemingly never-ending — journey continued.        “Just trust me,” he provided a simple answer that proved to be of no help in ensuring you.       As you continued, the sound of snapping twigs got louder. You turned the corner and the sudden sound of birds fleeing their nest startled you, causing you to jump and grab soobin’s coat from the back.         “Are you really that scared?” He laughed. “Don’t worry,” he continued, turning around and reaching for your hand. Gently running his thumb over yours the rest of the way. “We’re almost there. It’s worth it, i promise.”        Having his hand in yours definitely provided some comfort. But it was also making you feel things that you shouldn’t be feeling. After another minute of walking, you finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. The horrid crunching sound had been washed out by the sound of, well, rushing water.        A waterfall.        You gasped in astonishment at the clarity of the Caribbean-blue waterfall. It was spurting over the basalt rock, spilling eel-like over the ledges. Its clamorous passage at the foot of the mountain threw up bubbles of spray. They sparkled uneasily in the beams of light that shined through the leaves of surrounding trees.        When it toppled into the ecstasy-pool, it foamed it at the bottom. The rest of the pool was as clear as cellophane, allowing you to see down into the rocky bottom. Fronds of forest-green plants waved gently in the depths. The waterfall looked like a sheet of blue velour as it swished down. Its edges were hemmed with whipped-white lines.        “Wow,” was all you managed to utter out.        “I told you it was worth it,” soobin grinned. “Come on.” He lead you closer, collapsing on the bank and letting the nougat sweet smell of flowers wash over him.        You followed suit. “How did you find this place?”        “A friend of mine showed it to me when we were kids.” He said, leaning back against his palms. “We used to hang out all the time here. The five of us. That is, until i moved away for high school.        “I wonder what they’re up to now.” He added after a slight pause.        “You don’t see them when you come back for the holidays?” You asked.        Soobin shook his head. “I don’t get to see them much anymore. I barely leave my house, y/n, you know that. Besides, they’re all busy with their own lives.”        You listened to soobin reminisce about his childhood. You would listen to soobin talk for hours if you could. His words are were like gold to you, or perhaps some elixir you’ve been waiting all your days to hear. He had nothing but good things to say. It sounded like he had a lot of fun here, in the small town he grew up in. You both sat there for a while, gawking at the waterfall when the suddenly rustling of the bushes behind you caught your attention.        “Y/n,” soobin stood up, holding you behind him as the rustling got louder. And then a figure walked through, a boy. He was wearing a brown furry jacket. His hair was a strange shade a pink, but it complimented his skin tone nicely.        “Soobin?” The boy said, folding his arms. “No way. Is that actually you? Mr choi soobin. After all these years.”          “Yeonjun?” Soobin replied, letting go of you and walking up to yeonjun. “What are you doing here?”        “I was on my way out and thought i saw you earlier entering the forest so i decided to follow you. Who else knows this place anyway?” Yeonjun laughed, swinging an arm around soobin’s shoulder.        “So you practically followed, what could have been, a complete stranger into the forest?” Soobin shot him a look. To that, yeonjun just smiled and nodded. “You never change, do you?”        “Nope,” yeonjun answered confidently. “Anyways, are you going to introduce me to the pretty lady or do i have to do that myself?” He gestured a smile towards you.        Beside him, soobin stiffened, his jaw slightly tensing before he answered. “Right... Yeonjun, y/n. We met in high school, she’s my best friend.  Y/n, yeonjun. He was one of my friends i was telling you about-”        “Yeah, until this bastard moved, changed his number and practically became a hermit that never left his house much.” Yeonjun jibed.        “Hmm, that sounds about right. The only place I’ve seen him, other than class or the library, is at my apartment binge watching shows,” you added, causing yeonjun to burst out a laugh.        “You guys are mean.” Soobin grumbled, pushing yeonjun’s arm off him.        “I have a feeling she and i are going to be great friends.” Yeonjun said matter-of-factly.        The three of you sat there, talking for what seemed like hours. Soobin and yeonjun continued to tell you about the different adventures they had together as kids with their friends, beomgyu, kai and taehyun. They recounted all the accidents that happened, all the fun moments they had together. Yeonjun eventually proceeded to tell you about all the embarrassing soobin stories he could think of, sharing jokes and making you laugh. The entire time though, soobin barely directed any conversation at you. Let alone laugh at Yeonjun’s ‘jokes’.        As your laughter died down, yeonjun spoke again. “I have to ask though, what’s she doing doing here? Not that there’s anything wrong with it. I’m just curious. Does she live around here too?”        You looked to soobin, unsure of how or what to answer.        “It’s okay, yeonjun won’t snitch,” he said. “Y/n’s pretending to be my girlfriend for the holiday.”         It hurt you every time he said it. In your head you wished so badly for it to be real. To think, by now you would have learnt that wishing only wounds the heart. And each time soobin said it out loud, it was like a punch to the gut.        “Pretending to be your-“ yeonjun cut himself off by scoffing. “What for?”        “Well....” soobin started explaining the whole situation to yeonjun. To which the only response he got out of the other boy was mockery and disbelief.        “Are you serious?!” Yeonjun exclaimed. “So you two aren’t together?”        You shook your head.        “Oh... good....” he mumbled, grinning in the process. “You have got to be kidding me. But you guys do you, i guess. My lips are sealed.        “I hate to ruin the moment but i have to go. It was nice meeting you y/n.” He tipped an imaginary hat. “It was nice to see you again too, soobin. But let know, the next time you’re back.”        “Right, ill keep that in mind.” Soobin replied.        Just as yeonjun started to walk away, he stopped and turned around once more. “Oh! Right. How long are you guys staying? I’m meeting beomgyu, tae and kai on monday at the diner. You should come,” his eyes travelled to you, “both of you.”        “We cant-“        “We would love to!” You cut soobin off, “come on soobin, you haven’t seen your friends in ages. I would be nice to say ‘hi’ again.”         Soobin stared at you for a second. Maybe it was the excitement in your face or maybe he truly did want to see his friends again. But in the end he agreed.          “Great! Ill see you two monday at 5.” Yeonjun ended, giving a small salute before leaving, for real this time.        Soobin went back to the bay, laying down on the grass, letting out a long held sigh. He stared up at the sky that was quickly becoming darker. The stars and moon announcing their arrival.        “You alright?” You asked, sitting down next to him.        “Yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” He answered, his eyes still closed.        “I don’t know. You just seemed... off just now. Like my or yeonjun’s presence bothered you.”        “It’s nothing. Im just tired.” He sighed again, sitting up. “While on the subject, we should head back. It’s getting dark.”        He stood up and started walking without another word.        Was he mad at you? No... he had no reason to be, right? Was he mad about the joke you made with yeonjun?        You quickly caught up to him and followed him out of the forest. Other than your footsteps against the concrete road and the cicadas that came out to say their daily greetings, the awkward silence followed the rest of the way.        “I’m not annoyed at you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” soobin broke the silence. The entire walk you had your focus on the ground, not noticing the stolen glances soobin took. “Stop sulking. People are going to think i kicked your puppy or something.” He chuckled, bending his waist slight to look at your face.        His face was mere inches away from yours. Memories from the previous night came flooding back. You didn’t offer a response, not trusting the words that would escape your lips in that moment. Instead just turning your face to the other side to avoid his stare. Soobin let out a light hearted laugh and continued walking.          You recalled how soobin always said you had an expressive face. He must have seen something you didn’t realise.        The sky got darker as you continued down the road. The cool winter breeze greeting the concrete and skin just the same, causing you to shiver and wrap your arms around yourself. Mentally cursing the fact that, other than your khaki coat, you didn’t think to wear more layers that morning.        Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed. “Are you cold?” Soobin asked, already shedding off his cherry red, wool scarf.        “No, it’s alright, you’ll get cold,” grabbing his hands to stop his actions.        “I’ll be fine. And we’re only about 5 minutes away,” he argued, wrapping his scarf around your neck. He took your hand, pulling you behind him the rest of the way quickly before you ‘caught a cold’.        The scarf sat snug to your skin, soft and gentle, the ends becoming a colourful flag in the wintry winds. It was still warm from where it sat before. You could smell of his cologne on it. Faint, from the day’s activities. But still prominent enough to know it’s existence.        Your hands trembled in his and you thanked the cold for that excuse. Burying your face deeper into his scarf before he could make out the slight blush that painted your cheeks.        When you reached soobin’s home again, there was a faint chattering echoing through house.        “Oh, i think my older sister’s came for a visit.”        Soobin’s older sister. The one that’s the account, married, with the baby — soobin’s nephew — and the lovely husband. You’ve only ever met them once, well that, and the occasional pictures soobin would send you of him and his nephew. Seeing soobin with babies did things to your heart thats you didn’t like. You’ve already imagined the unlikely scenario of what it would be like to have soobin as your boyfriend. You can’t go fantasising an entire family as well. But you had to admit, he would make a great dad one day.        “Soobin!” His older sister ran and hugged him. He’s always had such a close bond with his siblings. “Mom and dad told me you brought your girlfriend home this time.” She wiggled her eyebrows.        “Hey sis. And yeah, y/n. You know her,” soobin turned to you.        “Of course. The last time i saw you two I knew you’d end up together.” She cheered as if she had just won the lottery.        So, from what you’ve gathered, soobin’s entire family had always had some hopes on the two of two. You wanted to smile at that fact. But at same time, you were lying to them right now. It was a bittersweet feeling.        The remainder of the night went on rather unproductive. You had dinner with his family, chatted with them, played with the baby and that was about it. The worst part came when the family decided to watch a movie together. The movie was great, dont get me wrong. You all sat together and watched kingsman again. Even though it was the tenth time you’ve seen it, it was still yours and Soobin’s favourite.        The bad part came when you had to find a seat. The family couch say four, soobin’s mom, dad and sisters. The older’s husband took one of the arm chairs, leaving you and soobin to share the other. In other words, you ended up having to sit on his lap.        “I can just sit on the floor, its no problem,” you suggested.        “Nonsense. I won’t let you sit on the floor,” soobin rebutted, holding your waist, pulling you back onto his lap.        You swear, if it wasn’t for the dimness of the room, the redness of your face would have matched that of the fire place. Throughout the movie you found it extremely hard to pay attention. Soobin had left one of his hands to rest on your knee and the other around your back. Sure, he was probably just putting on a show for his family. But he didn’t have to do the thumb thing as well. Or gently whisper in your ear, so close that you could feel his breath against your neck.          The rest of the time you couldn’t help but fidget in your seat — which just so happened to be soobin’s lap. As interesting as the fight scene on screen was or the dramatic music playing, the only thing you could focus on was the fact that soobin’s hand had now traveled to your thigh.        And underneath you, soobin’s breathing was becoming short and uneven. He was starting to stir as well before getting up, forcing you to stand and murmuring, “I’m going to head to bed early. You guys enjoy the rest of the movie.”        Within the next beat of the soundtrack, he was dashing out of the living room and running up the stairs.        What...?        You weren’t the only one wondering that. Soobin’s family were now staring at you, his mothers brows furrowed, his sister’s head tilted quizzically. “He said he’s tired,” you blurted, face-palming in your head.        Great. You already felt out of place and this certainly wasn’t helping. You sat down on the, now vacant, chair and continued the rest of the movie with his family.        I’m sure he’s fine. You can always ask him tomorrow.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

       You woke up to an empty bed again. But this time there was no post it note or anything from soobin. So you assumed he’d be in the kitchen like before.        “Morning y/n,” it was his older sister this time.        “Morning.” You looked around. No sight of soobin. “Where’s soobin?”        “Oh he didn’t tell you? He went out for a walk around 20 minutes ago.”        Why didn’t he wait for you?        “Yeah, he didn’t. Did he say where he was going or when he’ll be back?” You asked.        To that, she just shook her head.        Oh...

       “I almost forgot,” she continued. “There was a note for you. I left it on the counter for you.”

       You picked it up, hoping to see Soobin’s name as the regards, telling you his whereabouts. Instead, the note was fairly short.

Hey y/n!

Once again i just wanted to welcome you to town. It was really nice meeting you yesterday! Maybe we could hang out some time?

(Hopefully) Your friend,

Yeonjun

       Did Soobin see it? Either way, why does it matter.        After breakfast, you decided to wait for soobin to come home. If he didn’t tell where he was going, it means he cant be gone long, right? You sat in his room, figuring it would be the only place you didnt have to face his family members.        It was only about an hour and a half of waiting and a lunch break, that you got bored. You could only scroll your phone so much before it started to get more redundant than it already was. So, checking the weather report, you got dressed and left for a walk around. You hadn’t seen much of the area yet, it wouldn’t be harmful to do some exploring. Learning your lesson from yesterday, you put on a wool sweater underneath your coat. A pair of dr marten to match.         It was a rather fine day out. You walked under the sun that warmed your skin, but the cool winds keeping the temperature cool enough. The only thing that would make this better would be if soobin were with you...        “Y/n!” You heard a familiar voice call from behind you.        You turned around and saw a familiar lock of pink hair running towards you, frantically waving his arms. He was wearing a leather jacket today. Behind him was someone else that chased after him. He had nicely styled, bleached blonde hair and was slightly short than yeonjun was.        “Oh, hi.” You greeted the two of them. “Fancy running into you again.”        “I know, right!” He agreed, a bit more enthusiastically than what you would imagine. “Why are you alone? Where’s soobin?”        “No clue. He just took off this morning. Didn’t tell me anything and i got bored of sitting around alone.”        “Maybe the pressure of a relationship getting to him,” yeonjun suggested.        “It’s fake though,” you mocked.        He just shrugged. “Doesn’t make it any less of a commitment.”        You hummed a reply. “Fair enough.”        “Anyway. If you have nothing better to do... taehyun and i,” he said, gesturing towards to boy beside him, “were just headed to the arcade in town. Care to join us?”        “Sure, I don’t see why not.”        You followed as yeonjun and taehyun lead you through the town soobin said he would bring you to. Every corner they turned, they greeted someone new. From little kids to elderly ladies and gentlemen. Small town, i guess everyone knew everyone.        Eventually, they stopped in front of a building, the arcade. The pings from the pinball machines, the bullets from the shooting games, and the ‘jackpot’ announcements, all a dead give away. From the outside, the building looked old and rundown. The paint was old and cracking as if it hadn’t been repainted in years. Even the neon signs provided to the retro aesthetic, casting a purple-red hue over everything.        You stood there, taking in the atmosphere for a second. It sure was different from any arcade you had back in the city. You glanced around, when a figure at one of the pinball machines caught your eye.        “Soobin?” You spoke out loud.        Confused, yeonjun and taehyun followed your gaze to said figure.        “What in the?” You walked up to him. the further into the arcade you went, the louder everything got. Tapping him on the shoulder, you just about had to yell to have any sort of conversation.        “Y/n?” He asked, looking at you with the same expression as culprit that had just been caught red-handed.        You scoffed playfully, crossing your arms. “So you ditched me to come play games alone?”        “Um, kind of? Not really though,” he said. His eyes darting towards the two boys that to came up behind you. “You came with taehyun and... Yeonjun?”        “Hey soob, long time no see,” taehyun added.        “I went out for a walk and ran into them,” a quick and easy reason. “You could have just told me if you wanted to come to town alone, you know? You don’t have to sneak off at the crack of dawn.”        “Nice to see you too tae. And I do want to show you around the town. It’s just,” his eyes travelled between you and yeonjun, back to you in a blink. “I just needed a break from things for a while.”        “Hm, alright,” you accepted his explanation, but something still felt weird.        “Since we’re already here, there’s no use standing around.” Yeonjun spoke. “Y/n, come play the shooting game with me!”        Before you could reply, yeonjun was already dragging you towards one of the machines. Leaving taehyun and soobin to do whatever it was they did. He handed you one of the guns available and scanned his arcade card. The entire time you could feel eyes watching you, but shook it off.        Yeonjun was pretty good at the game, you had to admit. He spent a lot of time here, you assumed. Time seemed to disappear the longer you were in the arcade. The atmosphere around you never changed. It was still as lively and colourful as when you first walked in. The bright lights and loud music blasting, disrupting your senses. But outside, the sun was quickly setting.        “Good game, y/n,” taehyun offered a handshake after you beat him at yet another game of air hockey.        You took it. “Not too shabby yourself.”        Beside you, yeonjun and soobin clapped for your victory.        “We should probably go back soon,” Soobin said, showing the clock on his phone. It was nearly 8pm. Time sure flies when you’re having fun.        You all travelled back together. Turns out yeonjun and taehyun only lived a street away from soobin.        “See you tomorrow,” taehyun and yeonjun waved goodbye as you parted ways, leaving you and soobin to go your way.        Neither of you said a thing to each other. And for reason you were having trouble thinking of a conversation starter, this hasn’t happened before. Usually you and soobin had endless things to talk about. It didn’t matter how stupid or unimaginable it was, the two of you never ran out of things to say.        “When you were a kid, did you ever pretend you were smoking in winter?” You said the first thing that came to mind, the cold air making your breath visible, helping to elaborate your question. You laughed at yourself, holding your fingers up in a peace sign, imagining a cigarette between them.        “Yeah, when i was like 7.”        Okay, ouch.        Soobin’s answer was short, providing no further conversation. You pressed your lips together, stuffing your hands in your pockets as embarrassment crept up on you. So much for never feeling judged.        The rest of the night you didn’t speak much. Every attempt you made just being shot down with one liners. Every time you showed soobin a funny video or meme, he gave little to no response. And eventually you gave up.        This continued to the following day. Sure, soobin was an introvert. You knew that. But he’s never ignored you to this extent. Was he getting sick of having you around everyday? If that was the case, he should just tell you, you’d give him all the space he needs.        You can’t lie and say you weren’t hurt by that thought. Your crush was ignoring you. That would have hurt anyone. And right now, you felt nothing more than a parasite in his home.        “Come on, we have to go meet the others,” the first words he’s said to you in hours.

      You followed quietly as soobin brought you to the diner. When you arrived, the others were already there. Yeonjun and taehyun, along with two new faces. Beomgyu and Huening Kai, you figured from previous conversations.        They sat at a semi-circle booth meant for four with two extra chairs at the end. One of which occupied by taehyun as the other three shared the banquette bench.         “Soobin! Y/n!” They waved.         Yeonjun sat at one of the ends and shifted when he spotted you enter. “Y/n, i saved you a seat next to me,” he said smugly, smirking and cocking his head to the space beside him.        You rolled your eyes at his antics, lips curling upwards. Soobin’s expression remained hard, unbothered and unimpressed even. But you didn’t question it, he’s been like that since yesterday. And frankly, you’ve gotten sick of it. Might as well spend time with someone that actually wants your attention.        You got along well with the boys. You learnt that Kai and taehyun went to the same school and beomgyu had just graduated recently. Most of the time though, was spent whispering jokes between yeonjun and yourself. And at some point of the night, he had managed to sneak an around the back of the booth. On the other side, Beomgyu and Kai snickered to each other and eventually shook hands, some bet or deal you presumed.        All of a sudden you heard one of the chairs beside you shift. The feet scratching against the tiled floor. And the next thing you knew, soobin was walking out the door, the bell ringing behind him.        “Where’s he going?” Kai asked.        “No clue,” Beomgyu answered. Taehyun just shrugged. All your attentions still on the door that had already been shut.        “Um, ill go check on him,” you announced, running out of the diner after him. Sure, you and him weren’t on good terms at the moment, but nontheless he was still your best friend, and a huge part of you still cared for him.         “Soobin, wait!” You called, but he kept walking.        “Soobin!” You tried again, chasing after him.        “Stop right there choi soobin!” You yelled, your voice echoing through the empty street. The boys silhouette stood still. But never did he turn to look at you. “Dont you dare take another step!”        Never once in five years have you ever felt intimidated by him. But with his large figure being illuminated by nothing but the dull, yellow street lights, you couldn’t say that anymore. There was silence as you gathered your thoughts, making your way towards him. You had him right in front of you. Now what? You wanted soobin back. Your soobin.        “What’s going on with you?” Your feet stopped on their own accord, right behind the tall boy. “You’ve been acting strange.”        No answer.        “Soobin, don’t ignore me!” You said again, desperation and annoyance laced in your tone.        “I don’t know what you want me to say y/n,” he sighed, trying to keep his temper from exploding.        “I want a damn explanation, soobin,” anger from the previous day slowly consuming you. “Do you know how much of an asshole you’re being? God! I try to talk to you, but it’s just like i’m talking to a god damn wall! So, you can either tell me what’s going on or I’m on the next bus home tomorrow.”        No answer. But you could tell the last part hit him hard. He couldn’t look at you. If he did, he was sure you would see the remorse and anger in his eyes. He hated that you were mad. He hated that you were yelling. But most of all he hated that he was the cause of it.       “You asked me to come play girlfriend with you and i did,” you sighed, continuing when he started walking again. “I only did because,” swallowed the lump in your throat, “you’re... you’re my best friend.”        Best friend.        “I’m your best friend... you can me anything, you know that.” You quoted his words.        “There’s some things better left unsaid,” he offered before walking away again. “I’m sorry y/n.”        “No!” You cried, stopping his tracks. “Apology not accepted.”        You could see frustration building in soobin. His hand pinching his temple, his shoulders tensed as you spoke. “You said you’d be by my side the whole time! But since the waterfall you’ve barely talked to me! You leave me in situations on my own, you’re ignoring me and you randomly take off without a word. You’re doing it right now! So, again, you can either tell me what’s going on or-“        “It’s because i love you, okay!?”        Now it was your turn to stay silent.        Soobin let out a sigh, turning to face you. “Is that what you want to hear?! I love you, y/n!” His tone got softer, “I love you so much. For as long as i can remember knowing you. It hurts when I see you with other people. Especially people that so blatantly flirt with you in front of me. You’re stunning, beautiful. Even a fool could see it. But you’re also so much more than that.        “You were the only person that bothered to come talk to me the first day of school. Others probably viewed me as the weird, loser kid that sat alone during lunch. But you didn’t. You were my first and only friend for years. Before i knew it, i had a crush on you. At first, i thought it was just a phase. But it wasn’t, y/n. And now, im so hopelessly head over heels for you.        “I know, I haven’t earned your heart. I never will. I could spend a million years worshiping you and still not earn it. You’re my best friend, i know I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I know you’re mad at me. And i know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But please... please, don’t leave me.”        He sounded raw, real in a way you’ve never heard before. When he was done, he was closely inspecting the road, afraid to look up. Chewing on his bottom lip nervously, waiting for your rejection.        “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You asked, keeping emotion from your voice.        He shrugged and laughed. “You’re my best friend, I didn’t want to lose you.”        You let one hand slide against his cheek, resting your palm there. “You wouldn’t have.”        “Wha-“        “I love you too, you doofus.”        You felt the pull of a muscle as his lips twitched. “Really?”        “Yes. Really. For as long as i can remember.”        Soobin, your best friend — now, boyfriend — pulled you into his arms. “I love you, y/f/n. And I’m so sorry for the way I’ve been. What can i say to make you forgive me?”        “Words only mean so much. Actions speak louder, don’t you agree?”        “I do.”        He lowered his head and brushed his lips against yours.        “Am i forgiven?” He asked rhetorically.        You laugh. “Only because i love you.”        “Yes! I told you so!” You turned and saw Kai yelling and celebrating, pointing fingers at beomgyu. Taehyun and yeonjun shaking their heads in disappointment.        What a crazy group of friends they were.

.

.

.

[losebetter]

Hey! Not sure if you're still in the P5 Fandom, but I found a war on foxes and fell in love. If you weren't planning on continuing it, can I ask what you had planned for it?

oh! that’s fun for me -- i’m not really in any fandom at the moment, but i tend to drift all over and leave little messes of writing as i get into things. :D WotF is actually something i’d love to continue someday - i had about 10k of it written - but it’s one of those things where i just got too in my head about whether parts of it made sense, so like... it’s been rotting on my hard drive for years. oops. i’m so glad you’ve enjoyed what’s there!!

tbh it was just gonna be some soft character study and ensemble fic with shukita talkin’ through stuff, so basically a lot of what already exists... actually here, let me just give you part of a scene! maybe it’ll motivate me to finish it someday if i know someone has read past what i’ve published. :,D 

if what you liked about the published stuff was Weird Teens, here’s a little more of that...?

When Yusuke arrives at their hideout the next day, Akira still isn't present, which kicks up a whole new series of pesky anxieties, his heart thudding nervously in his chest. He sets down his portfolio with an awkward wave to his companions, leaning it up against a wall and turning around to rest beside it with a quiet sigh.

He's fishing out his phone, mindful of the conversation already going on, but he looks up when he hears Ann tutting.

"That sounded rough," she says to him, slim eyebrows drawn in sympathy. "You okay, Yusuke?"

Embarrassed to have caught her attention, Yusuke pulls his hair nervously behind his ear. "I'm alright," he answers. He tries a small smile, but he can feel his brows still pinched in the middle, and gives it up as a lost cause. "Thank you, Ann. I just… had a long night."

"What," Ryuji interrupts, leaning into his space, "you?"

"I - yes?" Yusuke fights down a blush, suddenly faced with the reality of having to lie about exactly what had kept him up. "I was working on a painting for class last night. I - I was focused, and it was well past midnight when I had finally thought to check the time."

That's a believable enough tale, right? God, he suddenly has no idea. He hopes so.

It's apparently enough for Ryuji, who lets out a theatrical sigh so heavy it sinks his shoulders. "Maaaan. It sounded all mysterious until you said it was for school. How can you work on homework for that long?"

Yusuke feels trapped, unsure if he's supported his lie well enough, but thankfully Makoto steps in to rescue him before he accidentally oversells it.

"Some of us do value our studies, Ryuji," she says, turning a smile Yusuke's way that's only slightly uneasy. She has nothing to worry about - given that she's the newest member of the group, Yusuke happens to think she fits in better than he does.

"Yeah!" Ann chirps, always game to jump in and make fun of him. She twirls a loose piece of her hair where it falls over her shoulder. "I mean… doesn't it sound cooler than homework, anyway? Painting in a studio by moonlight, and all."

Yusuke reaches for the back of his neck, uncomfortable. "I have regular homework too, you know…" Homework he'd been steadfastly ignoring last night, in favor of rereading his message history with Akira until he'd had his words memorized.

We were so close on the train it was driving me crazy

i couldnt stop staring at your collarbones. You had raindrops on your throat and i wanted to lick them off so bad, i swear i almost did

"B - besides," he adds, trying to push the thoughts from his mind, "I can't help but be somewhat envious of you all, going to the same school and getting to see one another every day."

Yusuke?

Shit Yusuke im really sorry

Did you fall asleep…?

Yusuke?

"Akira!" Ryuji shouts, and Yusuke flinches from the force of his split-second fear that Ryuji can somehow read his mind - 

But when he looks up, their fearless leader is jogging toward them, shoulderbag supported with one hand (as to not jostle Morgana) and a small package in the other. He slows a few feet away from their spot and waves, looking a little out of breath.

"Heya," Ryuji greets with a matching wave - Yusuke sees Makoto adjust her hair and stand a little straighter, and wonders about that: her deference to Akira as a leader even outside of the Metaverse, despite his age.

Akira doesn't notice, smiling sheepishly at all of them. "Hi guys. Sorry I'm late, Boss wouldn't let me leave until I - "

He doesn't continue, oddly enough, but his ears do go a fetching shade of red. What happens next may well have happened in slow motion, for how intently Yusuke watches it:

Ryuji gestures to Akira's hand and asks, what's that? at the same time Akira seems to realize he's still holding whatever the package is - and whatever it is, it makes the pale skin under his glasses glow with a rosy blush that can't be explained by his exertion. 

As if on instinct, he reaches around to stuff the offending object into his bag, but that only makes Morgana splutter as his only air hole is covered up - and just as Ryuji steps closer, a shark with blood in the water, Morgana's high-pitched voice complains, watch it! and the little box comes sailing back out of the bag in a delicate arc, directly into Ryuji's waiting hands.

Akira looks betrayed, but he hasn't moved a muscle, completely frozen with his hand next to his bag - and he doesn't move until Ryuji's whooping abruptly halts, a lull in surrounding conversations allowing Yusuke to hear with perfect clarity when he blurts, "dude, are these condoms?"

Everything returns to speed at once, Akira flushed to the roots of his hair as he staggers into motion, reaching for the box. "Oh my god," he seethes, "Ryuji, shut up."

"There's no way - " Ann starts, then her eyes widen. "No wait, they totally - Akira, oh my god - "

"Stop!" he shrieks, looking humiliated, and Yusuke dodges away from his flailing arm as Ryuji dances away from it on his other side. "Ryuji - "

"Why do you have those?" Makoto asks - she sounds a little impressed, actually.

"Boss," Akira says, and grunts with another lunge that Ryuji crashes into Ann to avoid. "Shit, sorry - Sojiro stopped me on my way out and - Ryuji, seriously - wouldn't let me leave until I took 'em!"

"How big are they?" Ryuji asks, smug grin so wide Yusuke can see his canines.

"Who cares!" Akira whines, stopping for a moment to reorient - his hands curl into fists at his sides, upsetting his short coattails. "I'm gonna blow 'em up like balloons and tie 'em to you until you float away, I swear to - "

"Why would he," Yusuke starts, at the same time Ryuji looks up from the packaging and says, all of a sudden deathly serious, "wait, did you have a girl in your room, Akira?" and the rest of Yusuke's question dies in his throat.

If Sojiro thought - if Akira —

"Mercy," Yusuke breathes.

Ann seems to have noticed his reaction, her eyes calculating, and he watches with horror as she puts the pieces together when Akira whines, "no, idiot, the last person in my room was Yusuke - "

[mirsfa]

dangerously (v)

Genre: Uhm. Kinda everything, from angst through fluff to smut Word count: 10k  Pairing: Prince!Jaehyun x Mafia!Reader Warning: Cursing, underage smoking, drinking, use of drugs, even more cursing, smut in upcoming chapters. There’s a lot and I might have left some out oops. Summary: You were polar opposites. He was royalty, you were a criminal. You hated him, he hated you. This mission was the last thing any of you wanted, but you had to make it work. But could you?  TW: domestic abuse, violence

a/n: hello to every single one of you<3 so here we are again. me being ridiculously late, and you being like “wait whats this fanfic again i dont remember” hnng. SO here is part 5 of dangerously:) i promised a double update - which is going to happen. this is part 5, and i think next week ill upload part 6. i hope that’s alright:) (the whole chapter was 20k but i think its more reasonable if i upload it in two parts). Thank you so so so much for all the people that reminded me to keep going and keep writing. to everyone who likes this mess of words i manage to put together. i love you all, from the bottom of my heart.  also, i put a keep reading thingy on. i pray it works.

Previously: It all went down in slow motion.  The dancefloor of the gigantic room cleared out, the remaining guests pushing themselves up against the walls. Pure terror was written all over their faces, at the scene that played in the very middle of the room.   Prince Chenle stood there.   With a knife at his throat.   And at the end of the knife, the person who was holding it… Junhui.   You stopped breathing as you took in his face, took in that familiar, sharp smile. As your eyes met with Yukhei’s from across the room, you were certain he was horrified, just as much as you.   They were here.   The Black Spade was here.  

The air was stiff, tense; you felt the droplet of sweat on your neck before it had a chance to slide down. You were aware of everything suddenly, the sharp breaths of the elite guests, the faint clinking of your jewellery, the clamminess of your palms as you tightened your fist. You were in deep shit and you had a vague idea of what the outcome might be if you didn’t think of a solution quick enough.  

It’s been three years since you saw any member of the Black Spade.  

Not like you regretted it, or that you had wished to see them. It simply made you nervous, made you hyper-aware of your surroundings. Now, that one of them – if not all – is in the same room as you, some sort of perverse euphoria took over your brain, that they see you, and they want to kill you, and they have no idea how much can be done in the span of three years.  

“Long time no see, beautiful,” drifted Junhui’s voice, and you swore the blood froze in your veins. His ashy hair fell into his eyes as he tilted his head slightly, his cupid’s bow-like lips curling into a vicious, Cheshire-cat smile. He looked different since the last time you saw him, but if it surprised you, the feeling slid away into a secluded, subconscious part of your brain. It was not the appropriate time to think about the appearance of a conman. It was never the same.  

Even though he was standing far away from you, you felt feather-light touches caress your arms, ice-cold breath brushing your neck and even colder lips linger above your shoulder.  

Mirroring his expression, you placed your weight on your right leg and cocked your waist out. The dress shifted around your legs, the slit moving so that your left leg was let bare. You replaced your shocked expression with one of confidence, of piercing ice.  

“Let the prince go, Junhui,” you breathed as you kept eye-contact with him, no matter the amount of memories and even more regrets flashing into your mind.  

His grip tightened on the knife and Chenle hissed as a droplet of blood slid down on the front of his neck.  

For fucks sake.  

The youngest prince was supposed to be down in the basement along with his brother Donghyuck and Winwin…where are they? What happened to them?  

You did not dare glancing up at the balcony, where Taeyong and Doyoung lay, scared that a single look might serve as a clue to the one of the conmen of the Black Spade.  

“Come and take him, assassin,” mused Jun and you tilted your head to the side as invitation.  

“Where is the rest of your precious little gang, Jun?” you asked, masking your voice with the similar silky tone the conman sported. He ran his eyes over your figure then, something like bizarre satisfaction flashing in the dark orbs.  

“Three years ago,” Junhui purred, ignoring your question, as he flattened the blade on Chenle’s neck, “you pulled an impressive stunt.” You felt all eyes on you and him, the guests remaining backed up until the ivory and gold embroidered walls. You kept yourself straightened, focused on your breathing and let your hand linger around the dagger hidden under your dress.  

“Don’t evade,” you said then, icy edge wedging itself between your words, “let the prince go and show your faces so we can settle this properly.”  

A beat of silence, then Junhui craned his neck back as he let out a booming laugh. The knife tightened on Chenle’s neck and his panicked eyes searched yours.  

“Settle this properly?” crowed Jun then before his lips curled back in a vicious snarl. You felt the whole room tense at the sheer animosity. “And what does this ���settling’ mean for you, huh, dear? Shooting someone in the head? Or stabbing them in the neck, maybe blow their guts up with the help of your little arsonist?” his eyes narrowed into slits as he drank up your facial expression, “or does spreading your legs nice and wide does the job for everyone?”  

You stopped breathing.  

Talk.  

This is all talk, and he talked too much –  

Stalling. Was he stalling?  

You didn’t dare look up at the balcony, it would just give him an idea of Taeyong’s and Doyoung’s whereabouts…  

“That’s quite enough, Jun,” a voice sounded then, echoing through the deadly silent ballroom.  

A figure emerged, muscular and clad in black. His hair was smoothed back onto his scalp, revealing a creaseless forehead and bedroom eyes, wide and dark. An easy, light-hearted smile coated his lips and his name flashed in your mind immediately.  

Seungcheol.  

Then you felt a presence at your back, a whiff of spicy cologne and smoke – Taeyong stepped beside you. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, with enough force to blacken your senses for a single second. But Taeyong didn’t look at you, didn’t even graze his fingers against yours, his gaze was fixated on the rival gang’s leader and conman.  

Rage rippled off him – you felt it, Jun felt it, and you reckoned that the entire room felt it too. It was quiet and icy, cold enough to freeze lakes over.  

“We didn’t come to fight tonight,” Seungcheol said then. His voice was deep and rough, embers of arrogant authority sizzling. You cringed and watched the knife at Chenle’s neck.  

“Of course, you didn’t,” breezed Taeyong, his crimson hair smoothed back, emphasizing his elegantly tilted cat-like eyes, flashing, “you hold daggers to princes’ necks for the laugh.”  

Seungcheol let out a deep chuckle and Junhui grinned, tightening his grip.  

“You are slick ones, you know,” the Black Spade’s leader said, leisurely placing his hands in his pockets. A move of superiority. A move of arrogance. “We managed to catch this little one here only, the rest – “  

He looked at you then, his depthless black eyes raking over your form smoothly and you forced yourself not to flinch.  

“– scattered. Like underground rats.”  

As if on command, tiny red dots flashed up on their skin – not yours or Taeyong’s but the others, and it took them a whole ten seconds to realize it.  

And when they did, you managed to grin as if you had been planning it all along.  

“Rats, you say?” you hummed and dared a glance behind Seungcheol and Junhui – where Yukhei was supposed to be but you found nothing other than an empty macaron plate. He managed to get out – through the servant corridors.  

“Let go of the prince, Junhui,” Taeyong said then, his voice barely louder than a faint whisper, but much, much more powerful.  

The conman and his leader exchanged a quick glance before Jun lifted the dagger from Chenle’s neck and pushed the princeling away from him. He stumbled but didn’t fall and his eyes found yours immediately. It took Chenle no time to be at your side, his breathing and legs shaky. You grabbed his wrist and manoeuvred yourself in front of him.  

“Consider this a warning,” Seungcheol murmured then, “we see and hear everything, and remember, the blade of the spade cuts the snake’s head off.”  

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.  

“Just take the rest of your ragtag and fuck off,” grumbled Taeyong and turning on his heels, walked out of the ballroom.  

For a second you held Junhui’s eyes, then turning around you followed your leader, not letting the prince’s hand go.  

You flinched, hard, when the double-winged door banged closed behind your back.  

Three and a half hours, four shots of whisky and an entire pack of cigarettes later your fingers still seemed to tremble, and you considered chopping them off with one of Doyoung’s crooked daggers. This was after you finally stopped running your eyes over your family and the princes, looking for hidden injuries, panicked flashes in the eyes or a shaky breath – which you had found plenty. None of you changed out of your elegant clothing. If someone had walked into the suite with no knowledge or context regarding your history, they would have perceived the situation as something beautifully morbid. Suits were crumpled – the immaculacy only a tell-tale of what was supposed to happen, and the weapons scattered around the velvet sofas did not seem as intimidating as they should have been.

Chenle was sitting on a big, plush sofa – his entire body shaking, sweat dripping off his brows – Renjun and Jungwoo sat by him, encasing him with their bodies, wiping the cold beads from his eyes and neck. You swore you saw Jungwoo’s hand tremble the entire time.  

Johnny ran his fingers through his hair – once brushed elegantly, now hanging low into his brows. His eyes kept going to his youngest brother, guilt glinting there now and then.  

“We were right then,” he murmured, his voice hushed yet it seemed like a shout in the painfully quiet room, “it has been the Black Spade all along.”  

Ten and Jeno exchanged glances and you hummed. The only noise coming out of you since you collapsed onto a couple-sofa with Winwin.  

Maybe that was why Prince Yuta’s sharp eyes cut to your features immediately.  

“Miss Assassin seemed to have a moment there,” you thought he wanted his voice to be threatening and reckoning but you felt nothing other than a hollow sort of static noise.  

Taeyong turned towards the prince before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that encased his face for a second.  

“She owes no explanation, even for Your Highnesses.”  

“Maybe she doesn’t,” Johnny said, his eyes now set on you hesitantly and you stared back with an empty expression, “but what if it has significance?”  

Doyoung squinted.  

“It doesn’t.”  

“Maybe it does.”  

“Trust me, it does not.”  

Jaehyun drew in a sharp breath.  

You didn’t look at him. Didn’t dare to or didn’t want to, that did not matter. You still felt the warmth of his breath on the tip of your nose.  

“It might have some, though,” you interrupted, and everyone looked at you. Tilting your head back entirely, you rested it against the head of the loveseat and Winwin reached underneath the nape of your neck. You let out a small, thankful smile.  

Sitting in the crossfire of burning gazes, you began to tell a story.  

Everything has a start. The creation of Earth, the start of civilisations, kings and queens begin their lives as toddlers like everyone and everything else. Gangs, mafias don’t emerge the way they are now. They are not born as complete, safe empires. They crawl out as muddy and clawed hands; they pull themselves through sewers and tunnels and they scratch and cut themselves in the process – but it doesn’t matter because the purpose is stronger than the circumstance.  

The journey is long – never ending. Your growth never stops, there is no limit of being better – or worse. And you believe you haven’t gone down the right path. But does being good mean being right? No one knows the answer to that.  

You took a deep, deep breath before starting.

“There hasn’t always been war between the Black Spade and the Diamond Snake. In fact, it started off as something as close as a brotherhood. It crumbled three years ago – I believe people have heard about it. It was all over the media. Before that happened… Dear heavens, we were inseparable, we even thought about merging our gangs. I was nineteen at the time it all fell apart…an age where you ardently believe you are mature enough for whatever might come your way. The age when life seems to throw its heaviest and sharpest stones at you. Three years ago, our family was thriving already…but only because of Seungcheol’s – the Black Spade’s leader’s – help.”

“The Black Spade is a bit older than us. Even though we are around the same age, they began their businesses much earlier. They were already dealing serious things when we only ran around, wreaking havoc, stealing and just…living life at its fullest. In the foulest ways possible. It was Seungcheol who told Taeyong that he should get into similar business like him. I remember, he said something along the lines of: “There is potential in you, brother. Great potential.”  

I was thirteen then. Taeyong was barely sixteen. We admired the way he built up something like a kingdom, we were there when the fundamental stones were placed down. So, we began to do the same. We built up bases, created businesses, recruited people. He stood with us the whole time, helping us, advising when we needed it.  

For two years, everything went smoothly. I was already good at fighting – living on the streets isn’t the best thing for a girl. Especially in that part of the city. But Doyoung and I began to train, to be weapons, irreplaceable assets. We were trained by ex-assassins, spies, conmen, any person who has once been great, and had enough skill and power to make empires crumble into pieces. Working on the streets and in the underworld had its perks.  

During those two years, the two gangs shared dreams. We had great plans…overly ambitious at the time but we were so determined – it was impossible to keep us down, to make us give up on those ambitions. It didn’t stray us that their gang structure was different from what we planned.”  

You inhaled deeply and let out a shaky laugh. Winwin squeezed your shoulder.  

“The Black Spade has a unique way of…working. I will try my best to tell you what I know about it.”  

You looked around the room, sweeping your eyes over the princes and gang members. They huddled around you and drank up each word you said. As you looked at them you realised – for the first time, there was no place for anger, prejudice or even disgust in the room. The princes and gang members sat by each other one by one, brushing shoulders, crossing legs. Not enemies. Something close to acquaintances. Not friends yet, no… but you felt like you were on the right path towards that. Maybe this mission which became a catastrophic mess, the embodiment of your mutual enemy – this was perhaps what you needed most to be pushed together, to begin acting like an alliance instead of two reluctant parties forced into working together.  

You continued with a small, bitter smile and tucked your trembling hands under your thighs.  

“The Black Spade hits and runs, without lingering. When you realize what they have done…you feel numb and out of place. They work and move in sync, through careful planning and execution of strategy. In and out. They work for money, for men of status and they are not afraid to do the dirty work. They work long-term, taking down their prey over periods of times, working their ways into systems and hearts. This is exactly what they were becoming after that year. The inner circle had roles and jobs – just like us. But they are trained to do the dirtiest and foulest of works. We have spies – but they have conmen. Their names are Jeonghan and… and Junhui.”  

You said the last name with a dying breath. Pressure held your throat together as you fought the urge to shake. Winwin’s pinkie finger began to trace calming patterns on your shoulders.  

“They are worse than spies, they don’t get the information like us – by listening carefully and paying attention to details, or even hacking. No. They deceive you; they make you trust them; make you believe that they are more important than what you are truly protecting. They take the information, and they make sure to destroy you afterwards. Slow and steady. That was the path they started to follow. Their ambitions took a dark turn, one we were not willing to follow. Taeyong wasn’t, at least. More complications arose and more fights broke out between the two gangs. The last one was between Doyoung and Wonwoo, one of the Spades’ assassins. It turned bad…Both Yukhei and Taeyong were needed to hold Doyoung back, and Mingyu – another Spade assassin and Seungcheol, their leader, to keep Wonwoo from throwing daggers at Doyoung. It was a mess. Pure chaos.  

That was when things turned around for us, we strayed apart from each other, went on different paths, different parts of the city. After another half a year, we started a race. To see who has more territory, more assets and influence over wealthy people. It was obvious, after a while, that they worked against us on purpose, but it was too late for them. We grew stronger, we knew their ways of working and we developed ours – a new system, something that was unfamiliar for them. That went on for…I believe I was almost eighteen when I met Junhui again. The last time I saw him was two-three years before that.”

Another breath. You felt your heart hammer against your chest as you tried desperately to calm it down by taking deep breaths. But it did not seem to work, and the dress started to feel tighter, more open – too revealing.  

“I’d always found him attractive. So, when we met again accidentally on a mission, where both of us had the same target…those old emotions re-surfaced. For me, at least. One thing led to the other…The next thing I knew I was sneaking out of the Viper’s Pit, our home and headquarters, to meet up with him. I believe the thrill that we were lovers like Romeo and Juliet, from two families who have developed hatred toward one another, fired our emotions up. He was irresistible. I knew I was doing the wrong thing, deep inside me, but I felt like for once, I would be young and foolish. That I could afford it and could get away with it later. That even if it ends, if emotions die or our families find out, we have learned something new from each other, from the whole situation.”  

“So, we continued meeting up. Secret rendezvous. We shared everything. Our pasts, our feelings, our deepest secrets and doubts.  

Then one day, he started asking about things that weren’t related to my own feelings…he asked about the Snakes, first about how my relationship was with them, then slowly about how we work. And I was so in love, I was so sure that he wanted to know where I come from, where and how I live…I gave him everything he wanted to know.”  

You took a breath. Then another. Then another.  

And you swallowed back the lumps in your throat, because thinking about the mistakes you have made was much, much harder than you thought it would be. The barricades, the walls you have placed between your memories and your thoughts seemed to weaken as you talked about him. You saw a mixture of emotions when you looked around the room, ran your eyes through the princes and your family.  

The young princes…their eyes were filled with held back emotions, sympathy and sorrow and something like understanding. They were young, too young to fully understand how it must have felt like to go through these things but…they were smart enough to comprehend other aspects of it. The choices, the danger of trusting and the importance of keeping vital information to yourself. To not let emotions come in the way of that.  

Then you glanced over at the four older royals…their expressions were a haze, a mess of swirling emotions. It was so clear, in that moment, what each of them felt. As if everyone had dropped down their guards along with you.

Prince Johnny swallowed; you saw his throat bob as he looked away from your face – to stare at his own feet instead. Was it pity? You didn’t know, and you weren’t sure you desired to find out. Yuta’s expression was perhaps the most shocking one. He was leaning back on an armchair, his legs crossed and his head resting in his palm. In his eyes – a sharp glint of understanding. His bone-chilling attitude seemed to have melted in that moment. The edge didn’t leave his eyes but was joined with something new. Something soft and forgiving. Prince Jungwoo had a similar calculating look in his sweet, brown eyes. Although he wasn’t looking at you only. His eyes kept sweeping over your family, their expressions while listening to your story. The big picture.  

Finally, you let yourself glance at Prince Jaehyun.  

He stared at you, his face radiating nothing but pure curiosity and painful realisation - the information seemingly took its place in his brain like the piece of a puzzle. The key to the lock. They understood where you were getting at. They knew what it cost you to love a rival.  

Your voice descended into a quiet, but steely whisper.  

“After I learned all the things he’d done, how he used me for the information…I visited their nest. The Spades’ nest.”

And when you looked up again, you felt like the entire weight of a cliff rolled off your shoulders.

“And I burned it to the ground.”  

“You shouldn’t have shared this much.”  

These were Ten’s first words, barely a minute after the princes left Taeyong’s suite, with something like incredulous haze dwelling in their eyes. Your story was followed by a heavy silence, and you noted the quiet tears in Jaemin’s eyes. He was the most reluctant to leave, but Jaehyun pulled him along gently with a last look at you over his shoulder. You met his gaze. And let it linger.  

You slid your eyes towards the spy, and it barely surprised you how much energy you had to muster for it.  

“I placed the youngest prince in danger. I owed them this much.”  

Ten clicked his tongue.  

“You could’ve told them all this with half as much detail. Something about you and the Black Spade conman fucking, him betraying you and you taking revenge. It would’ve also taken less time.”  

Winwin groaned.  

“Why is it that when you open your mouth, only negative things manage to leave through it?”  

“You’re one to talk.”  

Kun interrupted, “We need them to trust us.” He shot you an approving look before frowning.  

“You did not have motives other than that, right Z?” he looked at you more carefully.  

“Of course, I didn’t, what are you talking about?” you murmured and stared at the ceiling in a rather determined manner. Jeno sat up straighter.  

“Oh my god, is it because of one of the princes? You like one of them?” he grinned, his eyes contracting into half-moons.  

“How did you come up with that? What does it have to do with it all? I don’t like anyone,” you hissed at no one in general. But that wasn’t enough for your family, who had entered a state of frenzy.  

“It’s Johnny, isn’t it?” Winwin glanced down at you, his lips tightened so he doesn’t burst out laughing.  

“No what the fuck, Win -”  

“I mean I wouldn’t blame you,” Ten shrugged and you arched one of your freshly plucked eyebrows. You did not like the direction of the conversation.  

“You have a daddy kink, don’t you Z? And Johnny is the daddy,” Yukhei was nodding deep in thought, as if he was a doctor writing a prescription for you. You gaped again.  

“Excuse me – “  

“No, I think Johnny is way too soft to be a daddy,” Doyoung shook his head and the others murmured in agreement. You were at a loss for words. Just minutes ago, you were discussing your tragic past love-story and now they were dissecting the chances of who you might fancy and their kinks-  

“Nah,” Taeyong spoke up then, the one who did not render his eyes from your face ever since you finished talking about Junhui, “I don’t think it is Johnny.”  

Whipping your head at your leader you shot him a betrayed look. He just stared at you with ever-knowing eyes.  

“You don’t like anyone,” he tilted his head and placed his chin in his palm, “but you do find one of them fascinating, don’t you, dear?”  

You squinted.  

“You wouldn’t know – “  

“Yes, I would,” Taeyong’s voice was hard and you clumped your mouth shut, “I have known you your entire life. Gives me enough time to figure you out.”  

Shrugging, you hoisted yourself up from the sofa and stalked towards the door. You needed sleep. A day’s worth, at least. You didn’t want to listen useless talk.  

“Z, wait,” Taeyong called after you regretfully. Tightening your grip on your heels, you turned around, glanced at your leader, at the rest of the Diamond Snake.  

“Stay here for the night, please. Everyone will.”  

He hesitated, as if saying these words caused him physical pain. He was disappointed, too. Shaken up by the night’s events like the rest of you. On the edge.  

“I don’t think it is…safe yet. For us to walk around here alone. We also heard Seokjin’s words – about his office being near here. And he disappeared along with the Spades. No one knows where he might be, what he might be planning along with these little shits.”  

You saw his point, and you hated to admit that you agreed with him. A part of you wanted to say that you’re fine off alone, that you can protect yourself… but tonight’s events upset you, too. The moment of realisation, while Seokjin held your hair wrapped around his finger, that you knew nothing, that you stalked straight into a trap in golden stilettos. And that you had no idea.  

With a sigh, you dumped your heels back on the ground.  

“Fine. But I want the bed.”  

Tae let out a sigh of relief.  

But not even the soft privilege of the bed was enough to lull you into sleep that night.  

The next few days, most of your group retreated into a nerve-wrecking calm, even Yukhei was quieter and less lively than usual. It was nice to see that you were not alone in this pit of…lethargic feelings because of the ball. The next week was spent in solitude, the entire inner circle gathering up in Taeyong’s suite, eating and sleeping together. If anyone else saw you, they would have straight up called you miserable. The usual teasing, yelling and disastrous attitude towards the cleanliness of the place was nowhere to be seen.  

“We haven’t been that lucky while being here, have we?” Doyoung piped up one evening, with Taeil and yourself sitting on the balcony, smoking in silence. You placed your legs in Taeil’s lap.  

“What do you mean?” the eldest of the group asked as he smashed the remnants of his cigarette.  

Doyoung shrugged.  

“Well, look at the first mission. That wasn’t carried out so well either,” his voice sounded sarcastically cheerful, but you caught the tone of disappointment. Doyoung has always been the type to be adamant on succeeding on the events and actions and whatever objective you had in mind. You hardly failed. And it has never happened two times in a row, until now.  

You wanted to say something soothing, but the words got caught in your mouth.  

Taeil drew circles absently on the skin of your ankle.  

“Well the first mission was good to earn the Royals’ trust, no?” he said then. The raven assassin inclined his head.  

“Yeah, but Z got injured,” he countered, and you groaned, “so the two cancels itself out.”  

Taeil chuckled.  

“Based on what?”  

“PEMDAS?”  

You chucked the pack at Doyoung’s head. He threw it right back.  

“We have to come up with something. We can’t keep going on like this,” you said after tugging out a new piece from the pack.  

“What do you mean?”  

“I feel like we have been feeling around in the dark so far. We weren’t sure who stood behind the attacks, we could only play a role as bodyguards. But now we know it is the Black Spade for sure. Just think, what would we do normally?” you straightened up while talking, folding your legs underneath yourself.  

“We need to sniff around the Spades… find out the location of their headquarters, their current customers and deals,” Taeil caught up with your thinking and you nodded.  

Doyoung’s eyes shone as he leaned forward.  

“On the other hand, we need to get ready for any following attacks. We need to recruit more Snakes for this job, the inner circle can’t stay the only ones working on this case,” he thought out loud, “Ask for a new place from the Royals, and no one should know about it… not even the princes. Then we need to visit the Headquarters, see who can be used for the job. And then we need spies stuck onto the Spades… but I’m not so sure about that. Remember what happened last time?” he grimaced.  

You shuddered as you recalled what happened the first and last time you set three of your spies onto the Black Spade. You could hardly identify them two days later, when you found them at an abandoned bus stop by an empty road.  

Taeil let out a pained sigh.  

“That means we will need to hire someone who does not belong to us and is further independent from other gangs… and who knows how things work in the Underworld, knows people, has connections… Doyoung, all the people who would be perfectly up for the job belong to us.”  

“Not really,” you spoke up then, a triumphant grin stretching on your face, “there is someone who would be perfect for the job. Or more like someones.”  

Doyoung’s mouth hanged open after a minute of silence.  

“Z no. I don’t want to see those little shits ever again.”  

You slammed your hands on the arms of the wooden chair and shooting up on your legs, you smashed the cigarette that was not done simmering.  

“Z yes. I’m gonna talk to Tae. Call the rest of the Snakes together,” was all you said before you hurried inside the suite.  

Luckily, all of the members were inside already. You agreed not to roam around at night, especially alone, so it became a fixed routine, that all the Snakes are back in the suite around early evening, doing their own things, scattered around the place.  

As usual, Jisung and Winwin were on the floor in one of the living room’s corners, surrounded by cables and computers. Ten, Jeno and Yukhei were watching a video on one of their phones – something violent, judging by the crashing sounds blasting on full volume. Taeyong and Kun were bent over a pile of papers, thrown messily around on the coffee table. You sauntered over.  

“I have an idea.”  

Both of them flinched at the unexpected voice and the victorious cheer it held. Kun squinted.  

“What have you cooked up now, Z?”  

You jerked your head towards the couches and armchairs arranged into a half circle in the middle of the living room. That area became the core of the preparations, the talks, the planning.  

Shortly after the Snakes got comfortable, you began sharing your idea. Summing Taeil’s, Doyoung’s and your own ideas, you drew up the problems that you stand against – and how you should solve them. The attitude you should adjust to. When you finished with the problem-solution speech, you went quiet, waiting to see if they followed you, to see if they understood.  

After a beat of silence, Yukhei’s head shot up.  

“You’re gonna suggest we talk to the Shenanigans?”  

Taeyong’s eyes widened. Winwin let out a sound that might have been called a whimper. Jeno and Jisung grinned.  

You nodded.  

“I say we talk to the Shenanigans. Listen, if anyone knows the Underworld and its dealings better than us and other gangs, it’s them,” you ran your eyes over the members.  

“They are so disrespectful,” Doyoung whined.  

“What do you expect from a bunch of outcast kids?” Jeno shot back before looking at you and Jisung, who hasn’t said anything the entire time.  

“I like Z’s idea. I’m in. And you know what guys? You old people won’t even need to see them. Jisung and I can go talk with them, we are the same age anyways.”  

You let out an impressed hum and swung your legs over into Yukhei’s lap.  

“The two of you is not enough. You need more people, so maybe you should take Yukhei as well. They seemed to like him last time,” Taeyong tilted his head, “maybe you could bring the young royals with you too.”  

“Okay no need to go overboard now – “Kun spoke up, but you interrupted him.  

“Wicked. I like it. And maybe one elder for added authority and to show it’s a serious case.”  

“No more adults though. Yukhei and an older royal is borderline intolerable for the Devil’s spawns,” Doyoung drawled as he ran through a hand through his hair.  

Everyone looked at Taeyong, waiting to see what he says. Jeno and Jisung exchanged a quick glance and Yukhei played with the nail polish on your toes. You could see your leader mulling over the exchanged ideas and propositions, saw him weigh each of them.  

“We will need to execute these things as quickly and as quietly as we can,” he murmured then, drawing his cut eyebrow up. Kun and Taeil agreed with grunts of their own.  

“Then we will need to divide ourselves and the royals up. One team goes to the Viper’s Pit to recruit more Snakes, the other team goes with the young princes to talk to the Shenanigans,” you jerked your head towards Jeno and Jisung.  

Taeyong straightened up and said, “okay,” before heading towards the phone on the nightstand by the bed.  

Before you knew it, you were on your way to Prince Johnny’s suite with Taeyong and Doyoung flagging either side of you. Following the eldest prince’s instructions, you ducked into a hidden pathway that connected all the wings of the palace and was kept a secret even from most of the servants. It is the safest mean of travel for all of us from now on, he said.  

You chuckled to yourself as you listened to the loud echoes of your breaths with your leader and your fellow hitman. When exactly did you get to the point where you were allowed to visit the private suite of the Crown Prince? And exactly when did the royals stop worrying about the fact that with a single movement you could hurt them in unimaginable ways? You wanted to add ‘without feeling remorse’ but…that would have been a blatant lie.  You wiped the thoughts out of your brain.  

“Did you tell him to get the princes together?” Doyoung whispered over your head to Taeyong, who nodded in response.  

The walls around you were painted hastily in old fashion, and because of the damp, it started to fall off in some places.  

“Ceremonious,” Doyoung groaned as he inched sideways into a corner, so that he wouldn’t touch the blight, “is this really the means by which we’re gonna have to move around in the palace?”  

“Since when are you such a diva?” Taeyong murmured and you snickered.  

“He’s always been like this. How can you forget it?” you countered, then shuddered when a cold breeze kissed the back of your neck. Placing your hands in the pockets of Yukhei’s hoodie, you hurried your steps.  

“It’s getting colder here. Let’s hurry.”  

In about five minutes you arrived at the Crown Prince’s suite and as soon as Doyoung lifted his hand to knock, the door swung open. Johnny had a slightly dishevelled look, but you didn’t have time to observe him because he ushered you inside with hurried, frantic movements. With a frown, all three of you stepped inside the –  

You had no words.  

You had gone speechless.  

You doubted you had the appropriate vocabulary to describe the eldest prince’s suite.  

Staring, you took in the spotless interior. The walls were ivory white, and the entire place had a theme of black and white. The entrance led to a small foyer, where there was a spacious closet in which you could place your shoes and coats. He then led you into the living room and as you walked inside you could feel your feet sinking into the soft, white carpet that covered the entirety of the room. You wanted this material at your place too. You were going to have to Taeyong about it later on. The living space was huge. Enormous.  

There was a spacious kitchen to your right, as you stepped inside, and to your left – half of the living room was sunken into the floor, with a circle of black velvet couches, providing an intimate and cosy atmosphere to the people sitting there.  

It was so luxurious and clean, you felt reluctant to touch anything so you wouldn’t smear …. yourself on it. This was ridiculous.  

There are people on the street, you thought, who are starving and begging for money every day and these people have half their living room sunken inside the floor?  

You heard a low scoff beside you and concluded that Doyoung must have had similar thoughts.  

“Do you think the toilet flushes itself here?” he murmured into your ear and you had to clamp your hand to your mouth, so you don’t snort out loud.  

“Make yourselves at home,” Johnny said then and gestured towards the couches, “The others are here.”  

Indeed, the princes were scattered around the circle, wearing casual clothes. Yet again, you were glad that you wore a hoodie and sneakers instead of a full body tunic and heels. It would have been a little overkill. Placing your hands back inside the pockets, you stalked towards the royals, Tae and Doyoung following.  

Yuta, who had his back to you, turned around then, and glared your way.  

“We do have things to do, you know. You can’t just order us around to your conveniences.”  

Doyoung glared right back.  

“If it concerns your survival, damn yes we can order you around Highness. Unless, you find pompous meetings with ass-lickers more important than your skin, you are obliged to do nothing of course.”  

You clamped your mouth shut when you saw the expression on Yuta’s face. But he didn’t say anything else. That was perhaps the courtesy of Jaehyun, who placed his hand on his brother’s arm. You noted that his face was grimmer than usual and the skin under his eyes were a shade darker than usual. Not that you’ve observed him before.  

The other princes were sitting seemingly relaxed, chatting casually, but you caught their eyes following your every movement. Oh well. Turns out you generalised the thought that they began trusting you. Putting a light swagger in your step you flashed them a grin.  

The three of you sat on a segment that was left empty by the princes.  

You caught Jaemin’s eyes and he gave you an eye-smile.  

“So, what is the reason for this emergency call-together?” Johnny asked as he leaned forward.  

“We came to share an idea and plan we just came up with. We thought it was an emergency because it is important that we take action as soon as we can,” Taeyong said with authority in his voice. He smoothed his flaming hair out of his forehead and ran his eyes over the royals, “we will need to involve Your Highnesses in the implementation of the next task.”  

Jungwoo tilted his head, “which would be?”  

Doyoung took over.  

“Our team will have to be divided into two. We know that the previous missions resulted in more failure than success because how little men and information we had.”  

“One of the teams will have the task of heading to the Diamond Snake headquarters, the Viper’s Pit, and the other team will have to take a small trip outside the city to talk with the Shenanigans,” you explained, placing your chin on the back of your hand. You fought the urge to cringe from having all the princes’ eyes fixated on you. Especially now, after you spilled so many things from your past. Ten was right. You shouldn’t have said so much. The last thing you needed from them was their pity.

“Who are the Shenanigans?” Mark piped up, pushing his circular glasses up on his nose.  

Doyoung hissed, “A group of little fu – “  

“The Shenanigans are a group of boys,” you interrupted him with a pointed look in his direction, “they are a fairly young group who were outcasts. I wouldn’t say they are a gang or mafia because they don’t do dealings or jobs for higher class people. But they know how the Underworld works, where you can find gangs, mafias, how you can get to them. They know how to get information without anyone noticing, they are exceptional at blending in and working their ways through crowds and events.”  

“What is our role?” a low baritone voice spoke up then, sending chills down your spine. You glanced in Jaehyun’s direction but avoided eye contact. Taeyong took over.  

“We would divide both our inner circle and You Highnesses. The younger ones – Princes Mark, Renjun, Jaemin, Donghyuck and Chenle would be accompanied by Prince Jaehyun and Yukhei, Jeno and Jisung from our team. It is known that the Shenanigans don’t take too much liking to older people. We are certain that they have taken a liking to Jeno and Jisung because they are the same age, and also Yukhei who is…Yukhei, and he is liked by anyone. We thought to add Prince Jaehyun as well to take extra caution. One adult wouldn’t hurt anyone. That is, if it is alright with Your Highness,” your leader finished with a long breath.  

Jaehyun thought for a while and glanced at Johnny. There was a wordless conversation between them – something most siblings shared. You knew the feeling well.  

“Alright,” he said then, “I will go with them.”  

The young princes nodded vehemently. Their eyes shone brightly, and it made you believe that they were enthusiastic about having a chance to go on a mission and not staying in the shadow of their older brothers. You smiled at Jaemin who returned it with a wide grin of his own.  

Taeyong inclined his head.  

“Prince Jaehyun and our Jeno will then join the other team at the Viper’s Pit. We will be heading to the headquarters, as we mentioned earlier, to talk with the rest of the Diamond Snake members and recruit people who are trustworthy and fit for the job. The people going there will be Z, Kun, Ten, Princes Johnny, Jungwoo, Yuta and myself. We will need to stay there for a couple of days to make sure everything goes smoothly and without complications.”  

“What about the rest of your gang?” Yuta drawled.  

“I will need to stay here, as I am the Taeyong’s Second,” Doyoung answered, unfazed by Yuta’s icy tone, “Winwin will monitor everything from his computers and Taeil will assist me in sorting through materials for the next mission and other precautions we will need to take.”  

“Precautions?” Johnny asked. Taeyong nodded.  

“We were not careful enough previously. No mistake like that will happen ever again.” his voice held solid authority, even when he apologised. In his own way.  

The princes were quiet for a while, each deep in his own thought and the three of you waited patiently. Somewhat. Doyoung kept playing with the embroidery on one of the pillows until you slapped his hand away. He was this close to tearing it.  

Then to your surprise, Yuta spoke up.  

“When are we leaving?”  

The following morning’s cold breeze sent shivers down Jaehyun’s spine. He groaned as he pulled the covers further up on himself, so it was only his eyebrows and the top of his ruffled hair that was visible. Yuta had stayed in his suite for a long time the day before and honestly, now he wished he had kicked his brother out sooner than three in the morning. He gave himself three more minutes of snoozing, though he was everything but relaxed. Jaehyun knew that if he actually relaxes in that time period, he’s going back to sleep for the next couple of hours.  

With another groan he fought the covers back and sat up. He was not a morning person, and on some days, he was thankful that he was a prince with duties, otherwise he would have wasted his entire life lying in bed all day. It was 7.35 by the time he flung his jacket over his black button-up and left to join his brothers and the three Snakes at the circular driveway of the castle.  

He saw that his younger brothers had taken up on his advice the previous night - that wearing something casual but elegant might be the golden middle way, to stay true to themselves without offending the Shenanigans – who openly judged adults and lived life by their own rules. Unapologetically. He’s done all the research he could last night with Yuta, but this was all he could find online, in the darkest pits of the internet. He will have to interrogate Jeno more on who exactly they were going to see.  

The youngsters set a great tone, his brothers were joking around with the Snakes, and as he headed over to them, occasionally he heard Chenle’s high-pitched giggles and Yukhei’s boisterous laughter. There were only three bulletproof-ed cars waiting for them, not a police car or motorbike could be seen anywhere near them. Interesting. The first one to notice him was Mark. The younger one tilted his head to the side, so his light brown locks fell over his brows.  

“Brother,” he said as a way of greeting, “we were waiting for you. I thought we agreed to meet at 7.30?” his voice was not accusatory, only confused. Jaehyun sighed as he raked his fingers through his hair and glanced back at the castle.  

“Yuta came over to mine at ten.”  

Mark’s mouth shaped a silent ‘o’ and he nodded understandingly. He knew that if Yuta visited someone…it led to a discussion that went on for hours at least.  

Jeno stalked over and Jaehyun had to fight down the urge to wince. The Snake’s steps were near silent, even on the pebbles of the driveway, and he moved with serpentine grace. It sent chills down Jaehyun’s spine.  

“Are we ready to go?” he asked and cast an eye-smile at Jaehyun, “I just told your brothers that we will be divided into three, so we fit into the cars. Princes Jaemin and Donghyuck will be with Yukhei. Mark and Renjun will be going with our Jisung and Your Highnesses Jaehyun and Chenle are with me.”  

Mark and Jaehyun nodded and a quiet voice in the back of Jaehyun’s mind told him that he should consider himself to be lucky – one Snake in one car, and two Royals with them. If it came to anything unfortunate…no. It is not the time to think about betrayals or conspiracies. The Snakes were there to protect them. Not to divert the cars and crash.  

So, he followed Jeno to the car at the very front and with a reluctant gaze, he waited until all his brothers were inside. And then he got in.  

“I’m really excited,” Chenle said as soon as he buckled himself in, “I have heard more about the Shenanigans after yesterday.”  

Jaehyun flicked his eyebrows up and looked at Jeno who was sitting at the passenger seat. The motor whirred into life underneath them.  

“You have?” he asked his youngest brother. Chenle grinned at him, his eyes narrowing into cheerful slits.  

“Yeah! Jeno, do you want to tell Jaehyun more about the Shenanigans?” he grabbed the seat in front of him and leaned as far as his belt allowed him. Jeno shifted so he was sitting sideways and could look at them both.  

“What has Your Highness heard so far?” his voice was casual but his ebony gaze penetrated Jaehyun. The prince shrugged.  

“Not much. I have done a little research. The only thing I know from the internet is that the Shenanigans are rather young, and they don’t take kindly to adults.”  

Jeno nodded.  

“They are known as outcasts, kids who had nowhere to go because no one wanted to take them in, but that is a false myth. They have taken up the role of outcasts on their own will. The boys who join the Shenanigans were once abused by their families. Parents, mostly,” he’d glanced at Jaehyun who forced a mask of calm on his features, “many young people know about the Shenanigans, some consider them a legend, a myth, though. Too good to be true. The ones who were able to stand up to their parents and leave – or get away one way or another, searched for the group. But they were never successful. Instead it was the Shenanigans who found them.”  

Chenle squirmed in his seat but Jaehyun tried to hide his astonishment. To be able to stand up to abusive parents…and leave. How brave does one have to be? How bad does the abuse have to be in order to make teenagers flee their home? Jaehyun shuddered.  

“The Shenanigans are the modern Robin Hoods for the young generation that has lost hope and are scared to stand up for themselves. They embody freedom and independence. Defiance. Us, the gangs and mafias…we are tied down by our businesses, by deals and bets.”  

Jaehyun placed his elbow on the windowsill as he listened to the young spy. He felt like he was beating around the bush.  

“What is it that they do?” Jaehyun asked and Jeno’s eyes cut to him as he gave him an eerie grin.

“They do many things. Firstly, they defy the gangs. They refuse to swear loyalty to any of them other than themselves. Secondly, they steal. They steal from the higher ups. Lastly, they gather information about everyone and everything. Nothing misses their eyes and when I say all the gangs have been trouble figuring out how they do it, I don’t exaggerate. It is impossible to get a hold of them.”  

There was pride in Jeno’s voice and maybe a little longing. Jaehyun wasn’t exactly sure. Chenle looked at him with bright eyes.  

“Aren’t they terrific? Donghyuck and Jaemin and the others think so too.”  

The eldest frowned.  

“Why do they steal? And what do they do with the money?”  

The spy shrugged and laughed quietly.  

“I have absolutely no idea,” he mused, “it is their business. We haven’t tried figuring it out.”  

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, neither of them talking. Jaehyun caught Chenle smiling softly as he stared out through the windows and it didn’t take him a lot of work to figure out why. The last thing we need is a national scandal that the youngest prince has joined a bunch of thieves, he thought bitterly.  

He had to admit, the Shenanigans did sound appealing to a certain extent. To be free of all duties, to swear loyalty for no one but your family and friends…to be independent from it all. Curiosity burned in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to know more. He wanted to see it all. See how mafias operated, the deals, the missions – even the assassinations, as morbid as it sounded.  

His thoughts screeched to a halt and changed directions. Assassins… he thought of her, with teeth made of razors and eyes like simmering embers. Was she abused as well? Did she have to run away? Or was she born into it all? He thought of the times he watched her train – the way she moved. The sharpness and the precision – the same serpentine grace he saw and still sees in the other members of the Diamond Snake. But it was training – he longed to see it all in action. He longed to see her lunge and twist and stab and – why the fuck was he thinking about all this? Since when did he want to see someone end lives?  

But a voice whispered to him; she is not all edge and defiance.  

He thought of the look on her face when she saw the Black Spade conman with Chenle in the middle of the dancefloor that night…remembered his own rage and how he was glued to the floor, unable to move, to think. How he lost control and went with the flow. Got lost in it. And how she did not. He remembered the way her eyebrows spiked up in that pure, horrified expression. And the way it cleared out in the span of a single second, morphing into a look of murderous calm and arrogance. How she did not let go of his youngest brother’s hand until they were out of sight.

As he stared at splotches of green, orange and yellow passing by, he realised he knew nothing.  

That there was more underneath it all. Hearing her story about the conman and the intertwined history of the two biggest rivalling gangs of the country showed them all, him and his brothers, that there was so much more to these criminals.  

That there is a reason for why things happen. How people turn out to be.  

And how wrong they were for judging them.  

But then again, what if they chose this path…?  

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Jeno looked back with a surprised look.  

“Something wrong?”  

Jaehyun shook his head and sighed.  

“Just…there’s a lot on my mind,” a blatant understatement. The spy tilted his head as he continued to look at him with calmly. Calculating. Wondering. Jaehyun avoided his gaze. Tried not to cringe when Jeno smirked.  

“We are almost there,” was all he said before turning back.  

“Where are we meeting them?” Chenle piped up and leaned forward.  

“Outside the capital. That is all you need to know,” he looked back at the eldest from the corner of his eyes, “you can trust us. There is no conspiracy. If that’s why your head is so heavy, Your Highness.”  

Jaehyun didn’t know whether to feel insulted or amused.  

The warehouse by which they stopped, was gigantic, and isolated. Both irked Prince Jaehyun. It was ran-down, rusty and almost fell apart and he saw nothing or no one that would have indicated that the Shenanigans were there, waiting for them.  

As he stepped out of the car, a breeze of the early autumn air ruffled his hair. He took a deep breath. It has been a long while since he visited the outskirts of the capital – or the countryside, and he needed to take a moment to take in the solemnity and quietness of it all.  

“Oi, Chenle, I got fucking chills!”  

As soon as Donghyuck’s voice got to him, Jaehyun’s eyes snapped open. In the span of seconds, ten forms of irritation ran through his brain as he swirled in his brother’s direction. Then froze as he saw the way Donghyuck bounced in his youngest brother’s and Jeno’s direction – and threw his arms around both of them. Jaemin joined him from Jeno’s side. In the friendliest of manners. Without hesitation. Jaehyun could only gape as he looked around for someone who could be as outraged as him but…  

Mark got out of the third car along with Renjun and both of them were listening intently to something Jisung was murmuring to them. Nothing on their faces other than concentration and fascination as clear as the pond nearby.  

His eyes found Yukhei’s, and found the arsonist already looking at him. Yukhei gave him a challenging grin.  

Look what happens when status and prejudice doesn’t get in the way.

Jaehyun felt his ears warm up and he cleared his throat.  

Their steps were quick as they neared the doorless entrance of the warehouse, the younger ones leaving Jaehyun and Yukhei behind. The Snake had long, lazy steps, as if he was never in a hurry, had all the time in the world. Jaehyun, on the other hand, was tense as always when it came to a sudden meeting with a bunch of criminals. He had just started getting used to the Diamond Snake. He had to get his mind off this.  

“It’s curious,” he turned to Yukhei, “how you and my brother Mark are almost the same age, yet he doesn’t count as an elder like you do.”  

Yukhei shrugged and his eyes widened with a mischievous glint.  

“I guess it counts a little different. Your brother is seen mostly around the young ones and they seem to give off a really harmonised vibe, if Your Highness gets what I mean. Meanwhile I am a part of the inner circle, the oldest and most trusted part of the Diamond Snake gang. I guess that puts a little more to my age.”  

Yukhei glanced at the prince who watched him carefully.  

“Y’know, there is more to age than just numbers. Our family prefers not to distinguish based on age. That barely gives you valuable assets. Look at our Jisung. He’s a teenager, like Jeno, they would still be in high school… but they’ve been through things, Prince. Terrible things. And that makes them cautious, makes them listen and work hard so they do not have to endure those things again.”  

Jaehyun swallowed and had the same chill run down his spine when he heard the story of the Shenanigans. He dared not to ask what the two youngest members of the inner circle went through. He stayed silent and gave an understanding nod to Yukhei.  

The arsonist gave him an encouraging grin and lifted his arm, as if he wanted to slap Jaehyun in the back but he decided otherwise and dropped it. A pang of disappointment hit the prince.  

As they stepped through the eerie opening of the warehouse, many things came into Jaehyun’s mind. The first being that the warehouse was actually not empty and abandoned; it was filled with iron containers of many sizes, having gods know what inside them. The second was the stuffy smell, nearing on mouldy, and suddenly he did not want to know what was inside those containers.  

The third was that other than the two people sitting by a table in the middle of the main paved way through the containers, there was no one else.  

As Jaehyun looked closer, there were a bunch of chairs in front of the single table, Jeno and Jisung leading his brothers straight for them. He opened his mouth to object but Yukhei placed a hand on his shoulder.  

They stopped a few feet away from the chairs, giving Jaehyun time and space to take in the two figures waiting for them.  

The one who was sitting on a wooden chair was clad in a leather jacket, jeans and black combat boots. His hair was a tousled, curly mess of dark blond and his mouth was quirked in a pleasant, almost welcoming smile. His head was tilted, watching them carefully.  

Jaehyun fought his eyebrow so it doesn’t shoot up in the skies.  

The other person, the one who perched on the edge of the table, gave off a more mysterious and serious aura – this one reminded Jaehyun of the Snakes. The man – boy? – was not smiling like his partner, he had his eyes set dead on the princes entering. His arms were crossed tightly, but his legs were hanging loosely on the edge of the weathered table. He was clad in black, similarly to the other person, even his hair, which was so dark it was almost blue. His fingers were adorned with rings, all silver, all capable of leaving a nasty mark if he was to punch someone. He was not smiling. There was nothing on his face other than…boredom? He seemed bored out of his mind, even as his eyes zig zagged between the younger princes.

Only two? I thought there were more people in the Shenanigans’ group. Did they just send representatives?  

Yukhei must have noticed Jaehyun’s confused glare because after nudging him, he nodded his head around them, towards the top of the containers. Following his nod, Jaehyun looked and his heart almost stopped.  

From the shadows and darkness, without a sound, figures emerged.  

They were everywhere, scattered around the warehouse, on tops of the containers, between them, hiding out in the shadows. They stood still. They only watched. But it gave Jaehyun the impression that if he was to do anything reckless, they would not hesitate to lunge down, up onto him. He placed his hands deep into his pockets so he wouldn’t loosen his shirt that suddenly felt a bit too tight.  

Then the blond one spoke up, with a voice surprisingly soft and pleasant.  

“Jeno,” he said, “it has been a while. You got us all worried with your absence.”  

The spy smiled and his eyes scrunched up into their usual moon slits. He lifted his hand slightly to stop the younger princes a step away from the chair laid out. Yukhei and Jaehyun did not go nearer, and there was a container’s length left between them and the others.  

“You out of everyone should know, that it is way too difficult to get a hold of you, Chan.”  

Chan laughed, his plump lips widening.  

“I would have thought that the infamous Diamond Snake spies would at least try. We might have let you, right Minho?” he glanced up at his partner. The boy, Minho, only gave Chan a quick glance before continuing to observe them, but his arms loosened a bit.  

“How rude of me,” Chan continued as he finally stood up, and waved at the chairs, “please, guests, sit down.”  

Then, for the first time, Jaehyun thought, he looked over at the eldest prince and Yukhei. After giving a quick nod and a flash of a smile to Yukhei, Chan’s eyes settled on Jaehyun.  

“I’m afraid we have no more chairs. I hope that is not taken as personal insult to the throne,” his eyes did not leave Jaehyun’s and his voice suddenly took on a mocking, challenging tone. Jaehyun did not break his look away from his.

“By all means,” he said coolly, “pretend I am not here. I have no role in this meeting other than being an elder brother.”  

Chan held his gaze for a second and then his smile went back to warm.  

“Perfect. Now, let me introduce myself and my boys,” he sat back down and casually waved his hand around, “My name is Chan and I am the leader of the Shenanigans. I welcome you princes, Snakes.”  

His eyes ran through the boys perching on the chairs. Jaehyun could swear Chenle and Donghyuck shook slightly from excitement.  

“This here is Minho, my Second and my advisor,” he continued, “and soon, if the situation demands, I’ll call the others forward. But that’s it for now.”  

Jeno grinned and Jisung smirked at Chan, who leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees.  

“Now tell me,” he breathed, “the reason why you called us together.”  

[shark-myths]

2020 In Review

Fics (finished and WIP!) written this year:

Words Sung in a Certain Order (Girl Out Boy; 16k) 

don't want to be a footnote (Pete/Patrick; 45k) 

Not a girl. (Girl Out Boy; 3k)

wearing all black doesn’t make you cool (Marina del Rey; 25k) 

Making It (Girl Out Boy; 5k) 

Wolves Dressed As Wolves (Pete/Patrick; 25k) 

merry christmas, i could care less (Girl Out Boy, ~10k) 

Takeaways from reflecting on your kick-ass writing, or kick-ass lack of writing, during a year more focused on survival than perhaps any other:

I’m really proud of myself! I learned more about rest and what I need as an introvert during this quarantine than ever before. chiefly: I was really gratified to see inspiration return to me, in small but significant ways, as the year wore on and I logged more and more time at home with respite from the constant interaction and socialization of pre-pandemic life. the most helpful trick for me this year was buying a cool pen and focusing on writing by hand! I need a break from screens and writing in a notebook like I used to feels really good, and ‘productive’ in a meaningful way since I can see pages fill up under my hands and it feels like I’m impacting my environment, rather than focused on How Long Did You Spend! How Much Did I Accomplish! Am I Valid Yet!

the other takeaway is I should probably find a f/f fandom since all I write is girlfic anymore??? someone tell me where to go

Most surprising fic you wrote this year:

it’s a tie between Making It, because I did it in a weekend on the shortest imaginable notice for a challenge and it was super fun and exhilarating, and WABDMYC, because I have never written lana/marina fic and I didn’t mean to, it just came out in an explosive and delicious rush after I did a song prompt ask thing on tumblr.

Best thing that happened this you because you write fic:

every year it’s community! fic connects me to so many people and it is pure magic. The big highlights this year were watching @alienfuckeronmain and @newleafover descend into LOTR fandoms and then recently into Merthur, because witnessing it feels like going home, making new friends to shout about lyrics with ((even though I am an absentee in our discussion group, oops, if you ever want to message me please do but know that I will avoid that notification like the plague even though I dearly want to talk to you, I am The Worst)), and the magic of a new friendship with @carbonbased000 , who, despite barely knowing me, was instantly and effortlessly there for me when I was shattered by the death of my cat (and the only person awake when I was wracked with grief insomnia, thank you timezones) and who turns out to have the twin of my heart beating in her chest. I never would have met you if we didn’t write stories about the same idiots falling in love, and that is a tragedy not worth imagining. thank you to everyone who made this year not just bearable but full of wonder.

How you grew as a writer this year:

um I wrote this question and I don’t know how to answer it. one way I grew was taking the time to write in the mornings before work (thank you, work from home) even when I didn’t feel like it. I rediscovered some magic that way. next year I hope to keep working on the project of chasing down my inspiration instead of waiting for it to strike.

If someone’s going to read just one of your 2020 fics, which one should they read?

Wolves Dressed As Wolves! it's less personal than any of the others written during this odd, quirky year, but it’s some of the most beautiful work I think I have ever done. 10/10 would recommend!

What’s coming in 2021:

more prompts, challenges, and collaborations, I hope! I have no idea what to write next and i hope you guys help me.

 I tag: @earlgreytea68, @carbonbased000, @alienfuckeronmain, @newleafover, @glitterandrocketfuel, @battylite, @allkindsofplatinumandpercocet, @padawanryan, @setting-in-a-honeymoon, @toorational, @leyley09 and whoever else wants to reflect in a way that doesn’t emphasize word counts and productivity!

[simpingforthisonedeer]

Chapter 5: Knife To The Neck

Summary: The aftermath of an assassination attempt; Meet Arthur; Everyone's simping for Julius except Holly(she aint buying his shit); There's a world organization or two; oop there's fae and some more magic lore; what??? is?? Julius??; someone who likes to edge himself apparently; magic paintings and shit, man; also more forbidden magic shtuff :)))

Notes:  There's NSFW Julius and Aika art under the "Julius & Aika" tag and julius thirst from urs truly on my page ;)))) This chapter was gonna be like 10k words long but i didn't wanna scare yall off so have half of it ;))) Oh, and uhhh most chapters will have some explicit here and sometimes the whole chapter will be explicit like the next chapter is going to be a fuckfest O.o (what did you think Julius meant when he said "hOlD mE") So, if you're not into that, I don't suggest reading this fic lmao but hey, if you are, please continue ;)))

“Oh my fucking god, we all nearly died.”

“Mom!” Holly threw her arms around Aika and buried her face in her neck. She wrapped her arms and held her daughter tightly as her head spun.

“I'm so sorry,” she whispered, holding back tears, further exacerbating the growing headache. 

Julius kneeled next to the pair and laid a comforting hand on Aika’s head, unwilling to interrupt their moment.

“It’s okay, everyone’s fine,” Holly assured.

“Yes, but you had to—”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t actually scared. Remember what you told me? You told me to think logically if I ever feel scared and logically speaking, the moon is up tonight and dad would’ve been fine. The man needed me alive to leverage me so I would be fine too.”

“I think I would’ve felt better if you blamed me instead of growing up so quickly,” Aika grumbled.

Julius let out a laugh, drawing attention to himself. She untangled herself from Holly and scanned him for any injuries.

“Are you alright, Julius?”

He waved her off and rubbed his eyes. “Besides the impending headache from the monster of a report I would have to write, I’m fine,” He looked at them intently. “You all need a security detail if this really is a common occurrence.”

“Oh! That won’t work!” Holly piped up. “My dad and I don’t even live on this continent and mom’s always travelling or bothering Uncle Ray at work. It’s okay,” she gave him a thumbs up. “My mom can take care of herself. She’s really scary. My dad and her friends are too. That’s why you shouldn’t hold her hand. If anyone fin—”

“Holly!” Aika exclaimed in horror, her cheeks inflamed with embarrassment. She threw an apologetic look at Julius. “He’s a Magic Knight Captain. He can take care of himself.”

“Ohhhh. That’s why he smells so much,” she muttered to herself, nodding as if everything made sense.

“What!” Julius whipped his head around, trying to check himself.

“Holly, no!” Aika stifled her laughs as she tried to catch his attention.

“You don’t smell, Julius. My daughter has Magic Synesthesia. Please forgive her. She’s just trying to say you have a lot of mana.”

He let his jaw drop in awe. That was an incredibly rare and fascinating condition! People with Magic Synesthesia were incredibly sensitive to magic, detecting unique mana from incredibly long distances. In fact, the world’s most famous bounty hunters and trackers had some form of Magic Synesthesia.

“Wait, really?! Then what do I smell like?”

Aika was going to stop Holly before she said something offensive again but it was too late.

“You smell like a warm, jelly-filled pączki in the middle of a lightning storm. It’s a good smell. It’s cold and warm at the same time,” she sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “But it barely covers the whiskey smell.”

“Oh, that was what the sweet smell was,” Aika nodded to herself, not unlike her own daughter. She rather liked pączki… 

Holly narrowed her eyes at her mom. She has good magic sense with her nose too but she has to be really close to smell something distinct like that. When did she get so close to him?

“WOW! That’s amazing, could you tell me—”

“I’m glad you lot are still alive.”

The trio turned towards the front of the house as a handsome, black-haired man with glittering, emerald eyes stepped into the moonlight as he rolled his bleeding shoulder with a groan. He tossed his braid behind him and raised his brows at Julius. 

“Did that handsome Magic Knight over there take that assassin out?”

Julius blushed furiously as this man, whom he was assuming was Arthur, winked salaciously at him.

“Listen here, you useless himbo.”

Holly stifled her giggles as her mom tore into her dad. It would get funnier when she realizes he was drunk too.

“You had one job and that was to keep Holly safe. An assassin throws some iron at you and you fall like a bag of bricks? It’s a freaking miracle you’re still alive after all these years.”

Arthur shrugged and winced at the pain.

“Your concern is touching, but what can I say? The Gods don’t want me and the Devil isn’t done with me. I’ll live.”

Aika rolled her eyes as she stood up and Julius with her.

“But really, what happened to the assassin?”

Julius ran a hand through his hair as he spoke up.

“The assassin had explosive runes on his chest and inside of his mouth. He already activated the runes so Aika threw him high and I contained the explosion. It was the only way.”

“Woah, he has a nice voice too.”

Holly groaned internally. Not her dad too.

“Dad.”

“Sorry, that was rude.” Suddenly he was in front of Julius, bowing as he took his hand. “My name is Arthur. What’s yours?”

Aika slapped his hand away as Julius looked on in shock.

“Don’t answer that question, Julius,” she said seriously as she threw a warning look at Arthur’s way. He shouldn’t use his fae magic if he doesn’t want to bring unwanted attention to himself. With that sentence alone, she made sure Arthur knew Julius’ name indirectly and thwarted his plan to assume control of the unsuspecting man. Trust him to think with his dick.

Holly groaned out loud this time. She didn’t understand what the weird tension between the three was, but it was disgusting. She shook her head as she walked back into the house. She didn’t want to be there if they got worse.

Arthur’s eyes flickered up to his forehead where the star lay on his forehead in interest. 

Is this the Time mage she was looking for?

His eyes slid down to Julius’ chest as he subtly reached out with his mana. He noticed that this man seemed to be hiding a significant portion of his mana and wore the Grey Deers crest.

Oh, lord. Is he that Magic Knight Captain?

“Holy shit, you’re that Captain no one knows the attribute about. Good thing that, considering the Pascere Syndicate went through so much effort to cover up Aika’s Time Magic,” he added.

“The Pascere Syndicate?” Julius frowned. He heard about them. “You mean the Assembly of Nations?” He knew he would have to attend at least one of their conventions after he gets appointed the Wizard King. It was a giant committee that sought to maintain peace, prevent magical wars and forbidden rituals on a global-scale that could destroy the world.

And wait, cover up Time Magic? How does he know that I have Time Magic?  

“Yeah, them. You’ve been doing a good job of covering up your Time magic so far,” he said, looking pointedly at his forehead. “but please try not to catch any unwanted attention from the international community,” Arthur laughed nervously. The last time that happened...Oh, he did not want to think about it. He didn’t particularly care if there was another Time Mage, especially since it looked like Julius kept his low-key, but people who would want to use it for themselves often took down many in their path to get it.

Julius nodded hesitantly at the unexpected advice.

“I’ll keep that in mind...”

“What are you doing here in the countryside anyways? Isn’t there a war going on?”

“He was just escorting me home,” Aika said as glared at Arthur. She slowly wrapped a possessive arm around Julius’ waist. He looked at her with a pleased grin and pulled her closer to his side.

Arthur’s mouth dropped into an “o” when he realized what they were actually here for and threw a knowing smirk at them. 

Seems like the Time mages are getting along quite nicely… 

He laughed as he slapped Julius’ back jovially but immediately recoiled. He quickly covered that up as if he was rolling his shoulders at the expense of the sharp pain that shot through his body. He willed his beating heart to calm down as hysteria threatened to crawl up his buzzed brain.

What the hell was that?

“I’m so sorry, Julius,” Arthur stepped back with his arms raised. He nodded at Aika calmly, though his eyes were filled with no small amount of fear, hoping she would spot it. 

She just threw a grateful look at him and shared a smile with Julius. Arthur’s shoulders slackened an inch when he saw genuine affection in their eyes. Oh. That was surprising...

But whatever it was, he needed to get Holly away from here. He needed to leave anyway due to the custody contract and someone will notice the assassin gone and will investigate. Whatever this Time mage was, he was trouble too. 

“I’ll take Holly home and bring her around tomorrow afternoon,” he declared with forced nonchalance. “Holly!” he called out. “Come on, dear! We’re leaving!”

“Wait, I need a statement from you two,” Julius stepped forward officiously, choosing to ignore his bizarre behavior for now. He had noticed how Arthur let go of him and the way his eyes shook in their sockets as he looked at Aika as if to warn her. He seemed scared of Julius all of a sudden, but whatever it was, he needed to get a word from them before they leave. Plenty of time to investigate later.

“Could you please explain how a foreign assassin got to Hage?”

Aika reached out and touched Arthur’s arm to heal it. He smiled tightly as he answered,

“Holly and I were exploring the continent—because it was our week off,” Arthur quickly explained when Aika opened her mouth to berate him again. “and we were in the Spade Kingdom touring your alma mater,” He motioned at Aika. “when the assassin, who had been tailing us the whole time, finally found an opportunity. We realized too late and were going to teleport away but he caught up to us as we ported here and there was a little scuffle,” Holly jogged back to her father’s side, unamused. “I got injured, Holly was restrained and held hostage for approximately an hour, then you two came along and you know the rest of the story,” he finished as he rushed at the end. He really needed to leave. He was getting antsy to get Julius away from Holly.

“Ah, thank you, Arthur!” Julius took his hand and Arthur suppressed a shudder at the wave of goosebumps and unnatural cold followed by warmth that settled over him.

Julius raised an eyebrow at the way he tensed and the distinctly different mana he was giving off.

That’s very interesting...

“It was really nice meeting you two,” He expressed sincerely.

“Of course,” Arthur said lowly, injecting false flirtatiousness into his tone. He needed to stay in character.

“Aika, can I speak with you for a moment before we go?” His hand twitched as he reached for Holly. He didn’t want to leave her but he needed to avoid suspicion. 

“Of course!” She turned to Julius and quickly pecked his cheek. Arthur’s anxiety shot up. “I’ll be right back Julius,” she said as he grinned sheepishly. Holly rolled her eyes at the display and crossed her arms across her chest.

Arthur squared his shoulders as Aika silently led them to a tree on the front yard. He needed to warn her.

She turned to him with a raised brow.

“Is everything alright?”

Arthur shot a cautious look at Julius. “No, it’s not. Your new boytoy isn’t human.”

She threw a sharp look at him. “First of all, don’t call him ‘my boytoy’ and second of all, what do you mean by that?”

“I mean that he doesn’t have a heart. His heartbeat is fake.”

“Oh, I knew that.”

“What? ”

Aika crossed her arms. “I had my lips to his pulse. His heart was supposed to be beating quickly at that moment, but at the speed he was going, he was either having a heart attack or he was orgasming,” she rolled her eyes. “But we got interrupted before we could even get that far. So yeah, his heartbeat is fake. So what? That doesn’t make him inhuman. His blood still flows, I can assure you that,” she added smugly.

Arthur shook as he stifled a smile. “Yeah, but that doesn’t change the fact that his mana is completely different from normal humans.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Well, forbidden magic can make a human mana seem inhuman. He doesn’t have any weg,” her eyes widened. “But didn’t I say that the seal on my forehead could double as a seal for weg?”

“Forget about forbidden magic!” he hissed. “Okay, he’s not as straight-laced as he looks. Okay, whatever, but I know how forbidden magic feels like on a person. This isn’t forbidden magic, it feels more lighter, and it’s not elf magic either. What kind of magic allows you to not have a beating heart, and feel light and dangerous?”

Aika’s cheek twitched. “Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll keep an eye on him. But I think you’re worrying about nothing. He’s had many opportunities to cause any harm but he hasn’t. He was actually really gentle and vulnerable with me. He is also a respected Magic Knight who is on his way to becoming Wizard King.”

“I know and it looks like he may have some rather large skeletons in his closet.”

“Arthur, we all do,” Aika sighed heavily. “Look, he is good. I can assure you that. You know what he wants to do when he is Wizard King? He wants to end classist discrimination in Clover Kingdom and he was genuine about it. Look, I’m surrounded by liars and I can smell one from a mile away. He hasn’t lied to me.”

“Yet.”

She growled in annoyance. “Are you worried about me or something?”

“Am I worried about the mother of my child? Yes, and I still stand by the fact that he doesn’t feel remotely human.”

“You’re not human either, idiot. I don’t care if he isn’t. I mean, as long as he isn’t conspiring anything malicious, I don’t have any problem with him being not-human and/or using forbidden magic,” she snorted. “I’d be a hypocrite if I did.”

“Okay, I’ll drop it for now,” Arthur shook his head. Maybe she’ll see some sense after she’s had her way with him. He smirked at her. 

“I guess you would be biased,” he quirked his eyebrow knowingly. “I see you eye-fucking him.”

“Oh, please as if I’d let that cloud my judgement and besides,” she threw a long look at Julius on his knees as he talked to their daughter. “As soon as you two leave, that wouldn’t be the only thing I would’ve done by the end of the night.”

Arthur relaxed a bit. While his instincts screamed that Julius was hiding something about himself, it doesn't necessarily mean he’s hiding something heinous or harmful. If anything were to happen, he believed that she could take care of herself.

“Be careful, and if you two continue your little tête-à-tête and you’re still alive, let me join sometime,” he winked as he added playfully.

“Oh, come on. The last time we both got into the same bed, you came out at the end of it looking like you lost a fist fight.”

He stuck his tongue out childishly. “Too bad I’m into that.”

He dodged as she smacked his arm with an indulgent laugh.

Julius kneeled in front of Holly with a forbearing smile.

“I really like your mom,” he admitted plainly. She scoffed derisively, all manners to the wind.

“Did I do anything to offend you? If so, could I do anything to fix it?”

“All of them are like that,” she snarled bitterly as looked at her nails. “Your type only likes my mom because she’s pretty and nothing else,” Holly braced herself, ready to cut him down if he moved to attack her, but he only stayed silent. She looked up to see Julius looking at her mom by the tree with a smile that threatened to overtake his face.

“Yeah, she’s pretty,” he agreed as he tore her eyes from her to look at Holly. “And she’s kind of scary too. She has a mean hook,” he huffed as he looked at Aika from the corner of his eye. “But she’s super smart and really cool. She knows a lot about magic and I want to learn from her. I want to work with her and the time I spent with her so far has been... freeing ,” he admitted shyly. “I want to know more about her and I want us to get along because you are her daughter and she loves you a lot. One day, I hope she could even show me a sliver of that love,” Julius sighed deeply. “Could you please tell me what she likes or where she might want to go?” He looked at her pleadingly. “I’d love to take her on a date.”

Holly stared at him, eyes as wide as saucers. The lump in her throat made it hard for her to breath. No one’s ever talked about her mom like that to her face…

“Um,” she squeaked as tears gathered at the edge of her eyes. Holly looked up and blinked rapidly, willing them to go away. All of her mom’s past lovers have always avoided her because she wasn’t their daughter. No one’s really come up to her and told her that they sincerely liked her mom. They might have loved her but she didn’t know and she didn’t understand it anyway. But the way Julius looked away at her mom while Holly composed herself made her chest constrict.

She cleared her throat, bringing his attention back to her. He looked at her searchingly to make sure she was ‘okay.’

“Sh-she likes to stay in during winters with hot cocoa and blankets and just talk. She likes to listen to people talk about their day,” Holly breathed in deeply. If he was sincere, and if he would continue to look at her mom like that, then she could afford to help him a bit. “If you want to get her something, don’t . But if you really want to, make her something, like food or a bracelet or something like that. She likes personal things like that.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate that.”

They both turned their heads when Aika and Arthur burst out laughing. Jealousy shot through Julius when Arthur laid a hand on Aika’s shoulder.

“Say...How close are your mom and dad?”

Holly shrugged. “They’re best friends. There’s not much to say besides that,” she raised a brow at him. “But if you’re asking if they like each other that way, I’d say ‘no.’”

Julius nodded, slightly relieved, and stood up as the grinning pair made their way to them.

“What are you two whispering about?”

“He was just keeping me entertained,” Holly quickly covered as Julius threw a grateful smile at her.

Aika and Arthur shared a disbelieving look. Their daughter was good at lying, but she wasn’t going to fool them , her teachers.

“Thank you, Julius,” Arthur said, looking better than he did before. Aika walked and stood next to Julius as she laced her fingers with his. Holly quickly hugged her mom and took her father’s hand.

“We’ll take our leave,” he said quietly and nodded at the two with a wink. “Have fun.”

“Bye!” Holly chirped before they vanished from sight.

“They didn’t have to leave at my expense,” Julius began as he turned to Aika with a neutral smile. She waved him off and looped an arm with him as she led them back to her house.

“They didn’t leave because of you,” she tightened her hold on him. “They left because of the custody contract. Holly can only visit me during weekends, holidays and extenuating circumstances. After that, she has to leave.”

“Arthur is very nice for a fae,” Julius said nonchalantly. He caught Aika as she stumbled over her own feet.

“What? How did you—”

“He wanted your firstborn, apparently iron is deadly to him going by your words, you stopped me from saying my name directly, his mana was not human and you have a pact with him; All clues point to him being fae. I wasn’t really sure because he recovered from the iron but your reaction confirms my suspicions,” he grinned in satisfaction as she stared at him in shock.

“I-Yeah, I mean you guessed right.” It made sense how quickly he connected the dots. Julius was going to be the Wizard King for a reason.

He leaned forward with an excited grin. “So your daughter is half-fae right? Does that mean she has two attributes? One is Spatial Magic, what is the other one? Can I ask Arthur questions about him being fae if I ever see him again?”

Aika stared at him for a moment, completely caught off guard by the cute expression on his face.

“Her other attribute is Sun Magic and y-yeah, you can,” she looked away with a blush. She really needed a sober-up potion. Julius tilted her face back with a finger and slotted his lips against Aika’s tenderly, much to her shock. She stared at his closed eyes and thick eyelashes and melted into the kiss and cradled his face. Their lips moved slowly and patiently against each other until they reluctantly pulled back to breathe.

Julius leaned his forehead against her’s. “Could I ask you a few more questions for my report,” he asked breathily against her lips.

“Of course,” Aika whispered back.

They linked hands with a shared smile and walked up the stony path to the house. He opened the door for her as she asked,

“Where did you learn to speak Greek?”

“My father and stepmother are children of Greek immigrants. I grew up speaking Greek and Latin,” he answered as he handed off his cloak and cape to her. That little information about his stepmother piqued her interest.

“Woah, that’s really cool!”

“Where did you learn?”

“I was in Athens for a few months, picked up the language on the go.”

“Wow! You were in Greece?”

“I’ve been everywhere,” Aika answered with a proud smile as she hung the cape and cloak on the coat rack. “I’m going to go wash my feet. Could you please take out the sober-up potions from the cabinet left of the kitchen sink for us?”

Julius nodded as she took a turn down a hallway off to the side. He examined the living room more carefully. It was modestly decorated with a few bronze accents pieces and dark brown furniture, but the walls were decorated with landscape and abstract paintings by Aika’s father. Some were of a view he would expect to see outside a cabin in the middle of the woods or at the edge of the sea and some were chaotic depictions of fire, water, lightning and metal curling around each other, tightly linked and unwilling to let go.

He shook his head and strode into the kitchen as he went over the questions he was going to ask. As he reached for the cabinet where he assumed Aika kept her potions, he was hit with a wave of unnatural dread from the window above the kitchen sink. He strained his eyes to look outside in curiosity and extended his mana zone in the direction of the backyard. His dread increased when he detected recent activity of forbidden magic. It was like a parasite that crawled over scorched Earth and flowers which surprisingly thrived despite the oppressive mana. It was all Aika’s magic.

His chest tightened at the thought of her doing forbidden magic but Julius could feel it so vividly. She had been doing forbidden magic. He wondered how he couldn’t feel it on her…He took out the potion and swallowed it thickly as any warm feeling he had of her shriveled up and died. He blinked as his vision grew clearer and leaned heavily against the kitchen countertop. He had such high hopes. 

“Boo.”

Julius immediately pivoted on his heel, fingers pointed at Aika’s neck as they sparked with mana. She stared at him, fresh-faced as she cocked her head.

“You’re under arrest for the use of forbidden magic,” he growled as he glared at her. Her eyes lit up in understanding and smiled cryptically.

“That’s kind of hot,” she giggled as her hand traveled up his tense chest.

“Wh—” And before he could finish his sentence, he was slammed against the wall, his wrists crossed and pinned above his head. He forgot she was Time Mage too. She could be just as fast as him.

Aika breezily opened her potions cabinet and downed the sober-up potion. 

Julius strained against the invisible, hand-like force on his wrists to no avail. She flipped a dining table chair around with a flourish and leisurely sat on it as she crossed her legs, looking like the very image of grace as she adjusted her skirt.

“Does Master Raymond know you use forbidden magic?” He spat as he struggled to uncross his wrists. Julius flared his mana threateningly as he activated mana skin but even then he couldn't break the bonds holding him. She quirked an eyebrow at him as she answered his question.

“Know?” she cocked her head at him. “He sanctions it.” Aika supressed a smile as Julius stilled in shock. “I’m sure you had questions about how I knew the forbidden runes on Sven’s body. A better question would be how you, a Magic Knight Captain, knew.”

Julius stayed silent as they both stared at each other, wearing equally neutral expressions.

“I like to read,” he finally said.

“Oh no, I knew that already. The question is why you would be reading about forbidden runes.”

“I could ask you the same,” Julius said, his expression icy and eyes that were dull to the point where they seemed black in the dim torchlight of the kitchen.

Aika raised her hands as she shrugged. “I’m an open book. I’ll tell you where I learned if you tell me.”

He jerked against the restraints one more time before he slackened in defeat. 

He sighed. “There’s a secret section of the Royal Library,” he growled, refusing to elaborate further.

“Oh, is that all?” Aika sighed in relief. She read everything in there already and it only had elementary books on forbidden subjects. “If that’s where you learned then that’s okay. It would be a problem if you were actually interested in forbidden magic and sought after it in other places,” Aika nodded as she crossed her arms. 

“I learned forbidden magic in the Spade Nation War College for four years since I was 16. That was almost twenty years ago,” she explained as she hugged herself. She smiled wickedly when Julius’ eyes strayed downwards to her chest.

“Did you know,” Aika began as his eyes flickered up to her’s with an embarrassed blush. “That using forbidden magic and having weg is a symbol of power in the rest of the world? It’s taboo on this continent only because someone opened the Qliphoth Tree over 600 years ago and let out a lot of demons into the world. The rest of the world actually still hates the Four Suits continent because of that,” she shook her head with a wry smile. “It’s no matter,” she leaned forward as if she was going to tell him a secret. 

“I’m not particularly a patriot or a nationalist—I’ve been around the world way too many times to be one—but serving the Wizard King was and is a pleasure. I do forbidden magic for the Wizard King. I keep my hands dirty so the Wizard King doesn’t have to—but that doesn’t mean Master Raymond’s hands are entirely clean,” she snorted as she said, “He did choke the life out of an entire army with their own blood and drown another. Did you know that he’s known as The Leviathan around the world for that?”

“Just because Master Raymond sanctions it, doesn’t mean it’s legal. Using forbidden magic means losing your humanity.”

“Yeah, if you don’t use it carefully. There are safeguards against that but there are some rituals where you can’t avoid that. But if you mean losing your emotions, I mean it happens, again, if you’re not careful. And besides, it’s legal if you have a license, and guess what? I have a license. I’ve saved lives with forbidden magic and if you try to have it revoked, you will be hard-pressed by many factions ready to defend me.”

Julius sighed and closed his eyes in relief. In order to be approved for a license, it takes years of thorough background checks, psychiatric evaluations and high-level government who "okayed" it. If she’s been approved, then she can be trusted. “You could’ve just said that. Please let me go. I won’t attack you.”

She giggled as she shook her head. “Sorry, I just felt like monologuing like a villain,” she said as she winked.

Julius laughed as he looked up at his restraints. “Could you please let me go?”

Aika’s languid eyes roved over his stretched out form. “No, I don’t think I will,” her lips twitched up into a suggestive smirk. “I rather like the view.”

A thrill shot through Julius as he resisted the urge to squirm. Her predatory gaze wasn’t doing anything to help the burning heat growing in his lower belly.

“CAPTAIN!”

They both jumped as a screen materialized in front of Julius’ face.

“What-Where have you been? The meeting was over hours ago! Why are your hands above your head like that?!”

“Marx! Ah, I am just stretching my arms,” he laughed nervously. Aika let go of her hold on him with a silent laugh. She couldn’t see who this Marx character was but she spared Julius the indignity of someone witnessing him being tied up like that.

Julius dropped his arms and rolled his shoulders as he smiled wide.

“I’m kind of busy right now, Marx. I have no doubt that the squad is up right now partying their Friday night. Well, tell them to party harder because tonight is that last night before we begin preparing for the final battle! By this time Saturday, we either win or lose the war.”

“The final battle? Are you sure, sir?”

“Yes, I am, Marx. Join your friends or just relax because tomorrow, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Yes, sir...Aren’t you coming back to the base? You could look at Magic later, sir…”

“I’ll be there,” he smiled kindly. “but don’t expect me.”

“You could look at magic later! You have to inform the squad yourself now! A final battle? I can’t even begin to imagine what we need to start preparing!”

Julius raised his hands as he cringed from his berating.

“I’ll be there soon as soon as I can!”

“Alright, you better be!”

The screen fizzled out and Julius pressed a hand to his chest and exhaled in relief. Aika found it strange, for a passing moment, that he was still making gestures as if he had a heart that could beat.

“Oh, that was embarrassing,” Julius huffed as he leaned his head back against the wall. 

“You should go, you know,” she said softly.

He gasped dramatically and pouted as he strode to where she sat.

“You want to get rid of me already?” he asked as he cocked his head down at her. She tugged him hard onto her lap but he readily straddled her legs and threw arms around her shoulders as they both looked at each other challengingly.

“I think you know the answer to that,” she whispered and leaned forward to nip at his exposed neck. “But you shouldn’t slack off work for my sake.”

“I’m just letting my squad have one night off before I work them to death.” Julius squirmed as Aika bit harder. He slowly knotted his hands in her hair and pulled gently. She hummed as her hands slid from his hips down to his ass and squeezed as he moaned.

“Who knew that a man of your stature, and the future Wizard King could be so submissive. ” She slid a hand down his front and cupped him through his pants. Julius shamelessly humped against her hand with a whine, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He buried his face in her shoulder as he panted.

“I’m expected to be the opposite,” he admitted breathily. “But it was quite nice when you took the initiative.”

Aika brought her hands up to his face with an amused twitch of her lips and pecked at the little dimple at the corner of his mouth.

“Well, you are absolutely adorable. How could I not?”

He shook his head with an embarrassed grin and looked around and his jaw dropped at the framed painting that covered most of the kitchen’s West wall. It was gigantic but he didn’t notice it in his lust-filled haze.

“Holy—That’s amazing! Did your father paint that?” Aika nearly groaned out loud when he jumped off her lap and moved closer to the painting to examine it closely.

It was a small, raven-haired boy caught mid-dance as the rain and wind swept his hair and clothes as lightning curled around him. The stormy sky in the background was lit with stray lightning and some even seemed to strike the ground around him. Julius couldn’t help but gape at the magic depicted so delicately and with such detail. He could almost feel the mana through the canvas.

Aika studied the little boy’s face with a sad smile as she stood next to him.

“Yeah, he did. We caught my brother summoning storms again when he was 10 and gained full control of his magic. My father found the scene very picturesque so he spent months painting and perfecting it. ” 

Julius stared, starry-eyed as he touched the lightning on the boy’s cheek.

“He was summoning storms at 10? He must be a really strong mage now! Where’s your brother now? Why have I never heard of such a strong lightning mage in the Magic Knights? Didn’t you say he wanted to be Wizard King?”

“Oh, my brother’s in the backyard right now,” she said casually as she willed her face to stay neutral.

“In the backyard?” he craned his head to look out the window. “At this time? What’s he doing?”

“Staying dead.”

Julius clamped one hand over his mouth to stop an inappropriate guffaw from bursting out. He let his hand fall and pursed his lips as Aika continued.

“The painting is called ‘The Symphony of the Lightning God,’” she continued as she motioned at the painting with a giggle.

“I-I see,” he snorted. “I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me.”

She sniggered. “No, it’s perfectly fine. My brother told me to make that joke.”

“He told you? When did he die?”

Aika paused. “Over 23 years ago...He was thirteen and I was sixteen…”

Julius’s face grew somber as he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder.

“I’m sorry...I’m sure you miss him…”

She snorted. “No, I don’t. I saw his dumbass yesterday. What do you think the forbidden magic in the backyard was?”

“Huh?”

[thehoneyedhufflepuff]

Fic writer asks -- 5 -- do you have an outline for BTL, and is it evolving as you go? And how long do you think the fic will end up being?

thanks for the ask!!! 💜

THIS IS INDEED THE MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION INNIT LOL.

so i don’t really do much traditional outlining really. I’m more what GRRM calls a “gardener” in that the story sort of grows as I go. (RIP this is why the fic is 200k+ now...but I honestly don’t know if I could tell this story in a more succinct way SO I WON’T.) Have I mentioned that when I first started BTL it was meant to be a little bookshop AU & that’s it? LOL. oops.

SO anyway sometime around chapter 5 (ish? maybe?) I actually wrote down a very rough outline of some emotional plot points that I very naively thought would be written relatively quickly (I made this list in...probably June 2019? haha). I dug that out for you because it amuses me. Here’s the first page which is all stuff that’s already happened so no spoilers really unless you’ve not already read the fic.

The second page though? Starts with this LMAO

& then I list some points, some of which are still valid & some of which I’m iffy on. Also? This was written before I realized that Dev & Niall would have their own story. Back when I thought they were Baz’s friends & confidants & nothing else. & then they showed me what was what & of course we (meaning me) had to weave in that story on top of everything else. BUT. That story has a profound effect on Baz & his anxiety & how he thinks about his own relationship, etc. And this story is fundamentally about navigating relationships when you have a mental illness that attacks the things that are most important to you. So IMO it’s at least marginally necessary if not extremely self indulgent.

Which was my way of saying: Do I have an outline? I had a bit of one. Did I follow it? Kinda in a very meandering way. Do I know what will happen? UH. The big things, YES! I know where we’re going emotionally, but what happens in between? We’re nearing the climax of the story. But I’ve accepted that it takes me a long fucking time to get to the point I need to get. (Yes, I do irritate myself sometimes, lol.) I have the climactic scene in my brain & it involves emotions & raised voices & rain & courage & the willingness to be vulnerable. I have a *potential* idea for something that happens that I haven’t decided on yet for after that scene. But whatever happens, they’ll be okay. I know the emotional note the story will end on. Also I have about 10k of a sequel written already so uh. Once BTL is finished...there’s that. Very self indulgent but y’all can read too if you want 🤣

Which brings us to the question of how long it’ll be? I have no idea. I’m really awful at estimating word counts, & with my chapters as long as they are, & the plot points that are left...I really don’t know. I absolutely would not be surprised if the thing breaks 300k. Hope that’s okay with y’all lol.

Anyway I should really work on chapter 21 huh? Here’s something I shared however many six sentence sundays ago from the beginning of that feat. middle-of-the-night sleep-ridden semi-confessions that Baz will be horrified about when he wakes up, surely:

🦖💛💙🦖

ask list

[salamanderskin]

And one time he did

The final part of  Five times Caleb didn’t let the Mighty Nein take care of him when he was sick… (part 5) This got away with me somewhat, so here’s 10k of feverish Caleb and concerned Caduceus. 

Whole thing is posted here for easier navigation if you like. 

Of all the times to get sick, for once his timing is not too bad. The Mighty Nein are between jobs and have a few days to spend in the Xorhaus. Caleb Widogast had been planning to spend them in the library catching up on his studies.

It seems that the moment he opens the book and summons Frumpkin onto his lap as a reading companion, the scraping soreness that has been in the back of his throat for days becomes a lancing pain every time he swallows, forcing him to cough and clear it nearly constantly. His nose is quickly too stuffed for him to breathe through. He swears to himself then feels a rush of gratitude that this did not happen while they were on the road. He isn’t sure he could accurately throw a fireball in this state, let alone anything more complex. 

Despite the fire he can’t seem to get warm. A blanket over his lap helps a little and his cat helps a lot but shivers still trickle down his limbs with increasing frequency. He is going to have to get a hot drink or something for his throat, or he’ll never be able to concentrate on this transcription. 

He intends it to be a very short interruption, to get back to his reading chair and the warmth of the fire as soon as possible. Upon standing, he realises he is dizzier than he had thought. Descending the stairs to the kitchen requires keeping his hand firmly on the wooden banister. 

The kitchen is mercifully quiet and empty apart from a familiar tall figure with a shock of bright pink hair, occupied with peeling and coring apples. The room is as still as a painting. Low light from the enchanted baubles overhead blesses the fruit with a sheen like precious stones. 

Caleb feels a swell of emotion at the scene. It’s the little things; Beau and Fjord’s boots kicked off by the door, a novel open face-down on the table, a half finished glass of tea. The house is warm and lived-in and safe. It is home. He’d never thought he’d live somewhere like this again. Some feeling rises in his throat and he swallows against it. 

That slight sound is enough to prompt Caduceus to turn. The same light illuminates him from behind, an improbable furry angel. 

“Mr Caleb?”

It seems Caduceus doesn’t need to touch Caleb to gauge the man’s fever. The moment he walks into the kitchen, the firbolg looks up and eyes him with considerable concern.

“Oh my, that’s not good at all.” He says, by way of greeting.

“Hm?” Caleb manages. “Oh, I just came to get a glass of water.” As if on cue, he starts coughing again. Even to him it sounds harsh and unpleasant.

“No, no, come here.” Caduceus approaches and leans down to look Caleb over carefully.

“You’re really very warm. I think you have a temperature.” He says gently. “You should be resting.” 

“Perhaps a little, but I have a lot to do today, I am perfectly ok to keep working on my spells.” 

That is all very well but he finds the world swimming at the edges; the firbolg blurs to a rose-edged smudge until Caleb can scrub a hand over his eyes. He manages to find the edge of the table with an outstretched hand and lever himself onto a chair. It feels good to sit down. The short walk downstairs has made his legs and back ache. He looks up guiltily to see Caduceus standing over him, eyebrows raised. 

“Caleb,” those pink sapphire eyes are turned on him with their full force of kind persuasion. “I know what’s normal for humans and I know you can’t be comfortable with your temperature so high. Let me give you a spell and I’ll make you some tea.” 

Actually that does sound like a good idea. He nods in surrender. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

Caduceus rests one of his hands on Caleb’s shoulder and casts healing word. Caleb knows that spell doesn’t require contact, but finds himself grateful for it nonetheless. 

“Spells are not actually too good for common illnesses.” The firbolg says apologetically. Caleb knows that too. “Give it a second to kick in.” 

So he sits and waits while his friend boils the kettle and selects pinches of ingredients from the wall of dark jars. He endeavours to wait without making a fuss, but the spell seems to have made the congestion in his nose shift in a way that sets him sneezing. With his handkerchief firmly over his nose and mouth he manages to smother the sound to a strangled “–ngkt!” The price of the quiet is a bolt of pain through his throat. 

“Ah –ngkt!” And again. 

“Bless you.” Not too quiet to escape Caduceus’ notice, then. 

He nods his thanks and doubles immediately with another sneeze.

“CHssh-ue!” Neither quiet nor polite, but it doesn’t hurt quite as much. 

“Bless you!” Caduceus calls over his shoulder. “So, some upper respiratory symptoms with the fever, yes? Let me see what I can find.” He adds a sliver of gnarly-looking root to the teapot and swirls it thoughtfully.

“Now, will you come and drink it with me? I could use some company.” 

Caleb swallows. He should be reading, he should be working on that new spell, he shouldn’t be wasting everyone’s time, he should-  Who is he kidding? His vision is too blurry to read and he is shivering harder now. 

“Ja. Yes. That would be nice.” 

He allows himself to be led to Caduceus’ rooftop dwelling.

It is warmer here, magically heated in the same way as his native Cemetery. The air has a pleasant, earthy smell and the captured sunlight from emanating from enchanted globes is easier on his eyes than the bright lamps in his library.Caduceus’ huge oak tree stands proud, it’s roots curving into the base of the tower like possessive fingers, creating inviting nooks and crannies perfect for resting. The firbolg leads him to one where there are cushions and a low table to place the tea set. The angle of the trunk invites him to slump against it. 

He sneezes again, finishes with a groan. “Ghh. When is this going to stop?”

“When you’ve had enough rest to let your body heal.” Caduceus says sagely.

 It isn’t what Caleb wants to hear. The wizard realises he is still hoping his companion might  have some magic up his sleeve to just get this over with, so he can get back to his usual routine. For him to just take all the pain away. It’s a childish urge, but a powerful one. 

He settles for sipping the tea. It’s good; spicy and hot enough that he can feel it going down and radiating warmth into his tight chest. A hint of honey coats his throat, taking the tickle away for now, and he thinks he might be able to breathe through his nose again soon.

Caduceus is smiling at him, head tilted in interest as he holds his own cup.

“S’good.” Caleb tells him, slurry with tiredness. 

“I’m glad.” Caduceus says. ”Are you still feeling chilly?”

“Ja.” Caleb murmurs. “Can’t seem to get warm.” 

“That I can do something about.” Caduceus smiles. He disappears for a moment into his shack, and returns with an armful of thick blankets. He settles them over Caleb’s lap, where they provide a comforting weight. “Is that better, darling?” 

Caleb nods.

 “Now, just sit quietly there and drink that. I’m going to do some work around the garden, but you call if you need me, okay?” 

Caleb nods. He manages to sit long enough to finish the tea, then lets himself slump until he is laying on the cushions and looking up at the shifting patterns of light through the canopy. 

He must have dozed off, because he wakes feeling truly horrible. He hears a familiar, deep voice asking him a question. He cracks his eyes open and the light seems to sear through his skull. 

He goes to answer, sneezes thickly against the blankets.

“Wildmother bless you, Caleb.” Caduceus murmurs fondly and reaches to rub the man’s back. His fingers pause and then migrate up to the back of his Caleb’s neck and a frown deepens on his face. “Whoah, hey, your fever’s way up. I think you need to be in bed, hmm?” 

“Far.” Caleb despises the whine in his own voice, but his limbs feel like lead and the stairs back to his room are steep.

“My room is right here.” 

Caleb’s pupils go big when he realises what his friend is implying. 

“I couldn’t possibly-” he tries to say, but his fever-addled tongue can only manage a mush of Zemnian and common that doesn’t make any sense at all. 

The Firbolg nods sagely, as though he has made an excellent point, and adds “Yes, I think I’d better pick you up. Just for a moment.”

“Wait- please- oop-”

Caleb’s  limbs are bundled from under him. Caduceus cradles him close to his chest with one arm under his knees and the other to keep his head from lolling too painfully. Caleb’s vision lurches at the sudden movement and so does his stomach, and he wonders if he might throw up, or pass out, or both. Maybe Caduceus hears the dragging gasp that provokes, because he stands still and holds him tighter, presses his head into his chest and strokes through his hair for comfort.

“There, easy now. I’ve got you. I think…” he pauses to open the door to his little hut with one hip, “that if you’re feeling badly enough to let yourself be carried, doesn’t that mean you deserve to be carried? Just a little?” 

Caleb doesn’t reply, just tries to concentrate on the flood of sensation that is being lifted, being held. He is freezing, he is shivering so hard in Caduceus’ arms that he can hear his own teeth chatter. In response the firbolg holds him a little tighter.

A gentle impact as Caduceus sits down on the bed, and Caleb is shifted from his friend’s grasp onto a firm, low mattress. Compared to the bodyheat of a moment ago, the sheets are cold and unwelcoming, sparking soreness on his over-sensitive skin. He grits his teeth so as not to seem ungrateful but a convulsive chill chases along his limbs all the same. 

“Oh, you’re really shivering.” He hears Caduceus say. “Come here, sweetheart.” 

He is gathered up again and the blessed warmth is back. He curls into it like Frumpkin finding a spot of sunlight in winter. Caduceus manages to settle himself to sitting, with his human friend curled against his chest and supported with one long arm around his back. 

Caleb wants to rest there in Caduceus’ arms, he doesn’t want to move ever again, but his stuffy nose is still so ticklish and the change in position has only made it worse. He needs to turn his head away, needs to do something before he sneezes all over his friend. He squirms weakly, trying to find a handkerchief from his pocket, and whines under his breath when his fingers react with fumbling slowness. 

“What is it?” Caduceus’ voice is soft and concerned.

“Wait, I have to-” He gestures helplessly to his running nose then bucks into a sneeze against Caduceus’ chest. It’s wet and painful and deeply embarrassing. He feels blood race up his neck in a chaotic blush and he keeps his eyes closed as if they can pretend that didn’t just happen. 

“Oh! Bless you!” 

“Sorry- excuse me- CHssh-ue! CHssh-ue! ...m’sorry,” he manages. He doesn’t know if it’s for the mess or for falling ill in the first place.

“Trust me,” Caduceus actually laughs, “I’ve seen worse than a few sneezes. Bless you-” he adds preemptively as Caleb winds up for another. “There, are you done?”

Caleb sniffles and shrugs. “Ja. Gott. I’m so sorry.” 

“Hey. It’s okay. It happens. I’d rather have that than blood. Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

“S’cold…” Caleb actually pouts a little. 

“It won’t be, look-” 

Caleb feels a whisper of magic, recognises distantly that Caduceus has used some spell to warm the bedsheets for him. He could have done that himself, should have thought to try it, if he had any spells left in him. So stupid…

It’s much better. This time he allows himself to be bundled over, lets Caduceus pull the blankets up over his shoulders and tuck them in around him. When was the last time someone tucked him in…? It doesn’t bear thinking about, so he doesn’t. He is so, so ready to sleep but Caduceus is nudging him, trying to push something into his hand.

“Hmmf?” 

“One more minute, then you can sleep. Blow your nose first, sweetheart, or you’ll regret it later.”

“Nein.” That would involve raising his head and some modicum of effort. Ugh. 

“Trust me.” And he does trust Caduceus, so he does so. Then he falls into thick sleep as though a rug has been pulled out from underneath him.

…………………………………………..

Caleb doesn’t sleep for long -One hour thirteen minutes says the part of his brain that never stops counting- and it feels like forever or no time at all. The dreams that came were hot and black and chaotic. He is glad to wake and be out of them. 

“Hmmm, let’s have a look at you,” a rumbling murmur from a familiar bass voice. He feels the weight of Caduceus settling next to him on the bed. The Firbolg presses the back of his hand to Caleb’s forehead and nods, his expression sympathetic but not worried. There is a little tickle of magic, possibly some sort of diagnostic spell that Caleb never bothered to learn, and his friend nods. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna be fine. Looks like you just have a bad cold.” He sighs fondly and amends this to, “a really bad cold, poor thing. Can you sit up and drink some tea for me?”

Caleb obeys passively, though levering himself up to sitting is an effort that tires him out. It’s hard to drink hot tea when he feels so hot himself. He does so partially because he’s seen the healing powers of Caduceus’ tea first hand and partially because his friend would be incredibly hurt if he turned it down. So he sips, coughs a little, snuffles helplessly through a blocked nose. 

He has to put the mug down in a hurry to sneeze hard into the crook of his elbow. 

“Bless you, Caleb. Hmm, you managed to get yourself really sick sweetheart. You need to eat more, and sleep more, too.”  Caduceus says, reaching to rub his shoulders afterward. “How are you feeling now? Anything I can do?”

“I’m okay.” Caleb manages shakily. “Just hot. And achy.” 

“Yeah. I know you’re really warm but I’m not going to cool you too much, you need the fever to burn the virus off, okay? It’ll break soon and you’ll feel so much better.” 

Ja. Caleb knows this intellectually, but hearing ir  in that deep, soft voice is very reassuring when he feels like his skin is on fire. With a little prompting, he finishes the tea and lies down again. 

“That’s it. Try to get back to sleep. That’s what you need right now.” Caduceus encourages. 

This time it takes a while. He hears Caduceus leave the shack and can track the little sounds of his working in the garden outside. Caleb feels very close to sleep but instead he lies and lies there with his eyes closed, his thoughts racing unpleasantly. He summons Frumpkin and the cat tries to take his customary position on Caleb’s chest but the weight makes his clogged lungs work too hard. Frumpkin on his lap or his legs is too heavy and hot. Frumpkin not touching him is unbearably lonely. Frumpkin’s purring makes his head ache but the silence is no better. Caleb tosses and turns miserably, bleeding heat into the atmosphere for an hour and a half before sleep finally claims him. 

……..

It is hard to judge the time without a sunset, but when Caduceus’ body feels like he has been working for a few hours and his chores are done, he makes his way to the shack to check up on his guest. The fever heat and stuffy air of sickness are tangible as soon as he opens the door. The wizard is sprawled in sleep on the low mattress with his limbs splayed and the blankets kicked off. His cat is as near as he can be without touching. Evidently the chills have passed and his temperature is rising again. It should be due to break soon, if Caduceus is any judge.

 The human man is flushed under his freckles. One arm is pillowed under his head and the hand is turned upward but clenched and tense even in sleep. His wrists look impossibly delicate, the tendons in his arms standing out like cords, while the multitude of scars stand out in vivid white. Caduceus is bony himself but he has a layer of fur and lean rangy muscle with it. Caleb just looks like he could use a good meal. 

He says, “Hey there Mister Caleb,” to judge how deeply the man is asleep. No answer. Must be pretty deep. That’s good. Still, he mustn't get too cold, no matter how he feels, or his body will just crank his temperature higher, so Caduceus finds the thinnest sheet he has and drapes it over the man.

Caleb does stir at this, trying weakly to push it off. 

“Okay, okay, but it’s there if you need it, alright?” He murmurs. 

Caleb maybe nods, maybe it’s a twitch as he falls back into whatever dream has his eyes flickering behind their lids. 

He’s not in any danger and he is as comfortable as Caduceus can make him, so that will have to do for now. 

He leaves the sleeping wizard and pads softly down to the shared space to greet the rest of the Nein.

They are gathered in the kitchen, some eating and others just keeping company. It is so, so nice to come down to them, it’s like having a family.

Jester raises her head and gives him a great big smile. “Caduceuuuuus!  Where have you been all day? I found the soup you left though, it was really good!” 

“I’m glad.” He tells her, then explains, “Caleb’s not feeling too well, so I’ve been looking after him a little.”

“Oh.” Jester’s eyes go big with worry. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Fjord echoes. The others turn their heads. Nott tenses like she’s ready to spring up the stairs to her boy’s side.

“Oh, he’ll be fine.” Caduceus reassures them. “Just a nasty cold, but he has a fever with it that’s making him pretty uncomfortable. He’s in my bed sleeping it off.” 

That news causes an amused clamour when Beau blurts, “and he told you?” at the same time as Jester’s- “he let you-?” and Nott’s outraged, “he didn’t tell me?!”

 “Seriously Caduceus,” Jester adds “did you, like, drug him or something? I really need to go see if he’s okay right now.”

“No, no.” It is very unusual for Caduceus to be firm but he is now. He actually raises his voice just a touch and holds up a hand to stop the enthusiastic teifling in her tracks. “What he needs is rest and for you lot not to bother him. If he gets too much attention he’s just gonna feel guilty and try to get up.” 

“That’s true, actually.” She sits down in defeat. 

Even Nott shrugs in agreement. “If you’re sure it’s just a cold? And you’ll let us know if he needs anything from us?”

Caduceus puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Hey. You know I will.”

So that’s that. 

Caduceus takes the time to eat some of the soup he made earlier and also heats a bowlful to bring up for his patient. He also brings some more tea and a glass of the fruit juice he knows Caleb is fond of. He has to set down the tray to quietly open the door. Even then it rattles loudly, but that doesn’t matter because the wizard is already awake.

……………………………..

His dreams are always awful, but these are worse. He knows he’s dreaming, because nothing makes any sense, but the usual combination of smoke and flames and guilt is heightened by the physical feeling of burning up. He wakes enough to make out the walls of the room wavering as though in a heat haze and falls straight back into a dream where the space gets smaller and smaller. Something is wrapped around him, binding him tight, holding his arms still so that Ikathon can cut them open-

Caleb wakes from falling, gasps as though smacked into the mattress from a great height.

He sits instinctively to make it easier to breathe as he coughs and coughs and coughs. His chest hurts ferociously and he is absolutely soaking in sweat. 

As his vision clears, he realises the blankets had wrapped around one of his arms and his struggling had pulled it taught. He unwinds it and feels where the cloth has pressed ridges into his flesh. Every inch of his skin feels itchy and dirty and wrong.

The door clicks open quietly but he still jumps like he’s been slapped.

“Oh, hey sweetheart, you’re awake.” Caduceus' voice is steady and gentle. 

Caleb swallows guiltily as he remembers where he is. He has made such a mess of Caduceus’ bed, he is disgusting and he’s surely overstayed his welcome. The Firbolg must have come to ask him to leave- 

“Hey, hey, leave that alone, hmm? There’s no need for that.” Caduceus says suddenly.

For what? 

Caleb follows his friend’s gaze and realises his wrists are crossed so that he can scratch compulsively at both forearms at once. He must have been doing it for a while; he can feel the soreness now and see his scars standing out like spilled candle wax against reddened skin. He lowers his hands. 

“That’s it.” Caduceus encourages with a smile. 

“...dreaming.” He manages. His voice is a wreck.

Caduceus nods. “Just a dream though, you’re right here in the Xorhaus with me now.” 

Caleb doesn’t need telling that. He is quite capable of orienting himself after a nightmare. He has been doing it nearly every night for years, in fact. But it’s nice to hear someone else say it. It’s nice, too, when the firbolg comes to sit beside him on the bed and takes his chin in one hand, tilting his head slightly to look him over. Caduceus leans his cheek onto Caleb’s forehead to compare and nods, satisfied. 

“Looks like your fever broke. That’s good. How are you feeling?”

Caleb shrugs. It’s true, he doesn’t feel hot any more, he just feels wrung out. He feels like he has been run over by a cart and left in the rain. 

“Pretty rough, I bet.” Caduceus answers for him. “Poor thing, you look exhausted still.”  His big hands smooth over Caleb’s back, lift his hair from his neck and begin to rub the ache from his muscles. “Is that okay?

Caleb nods. It’s more than okay. He sniffles thickly and tries to sit still but he really needs to blow his nose. Caduceus notices at once, passes him a handkerchief and moves away to collect the things he’d brought up with him. Blowing makes Caleb need to sneeze and he doesn’t want to because he knows it’ll scrape his throat raw. He sniffles again instead and scrubs underneath his nose with the heel of his hand. He feels beyond pathetic.

Caduceus returns with a glass of juice and offers it. “It would be good if you could drink something.” He prompts, “You’ve lost a lot of fluid in a short time.”

“Feel like I am a fluid.” Caleb manages a weak smile. “Sorry about your bed.” 

“Never mind that. Sheets can be washed.” Caduceus says easily. “But what about you? You could go down to the spa and have a bath? I could help you, if you’re not up to walking just yet.”

Caleb considers this as he drains the glass. It would be good to be clean but there is a distinct swim at the edges of his vision when he turns his head too fast. His legs feel far too heavy for walking anywhere just now. 

“Maybe later...” He says. 

“That’s fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about that right now.” 

So he doesn’t. That's about all the conversation Caleb has in him, so he lies back down again. He feels Caduceus take the pillow from him briefly and manhandle him to one side to replace the sheet underneath him with a dry one. He accepts a clean shirt too and manages to wrangle it over his own head. The effort has him ready to fall asleep again and he doesn’t want to, isn’t ready for the dreams to start all over again. Frumpkin senses this. The cat paces up and down at the foot of the bed, giving voice to a low, miserable mew. 

Caduceus reaches to pet Frumpkin and then looks up at Caleb, questioning. Caleb was okay until then, honestly. He was just fine. But something about his friend’s honest, compassionate gaze, an expression of care and concern that is for him, whether he deserves it or not…. A lump forms in his throat and he feels tears rise like a tide. He swallows, shakes his head, presses his eyes firmly closed so they don’t spill out. Ridiculous.

“Do you want me to come sit with you for a bit?” Caduceus says softly. 

Caleb nods. He doesn’t open his eyes again but he feels the weight of a lanky firbolg settle beside him, then he feels a warm, steady hand smoothing his hair from his brow and cool, dry lips pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. 

Caduceus lies down next to him, a little way away at first. Caleb isn’t feeling good with words right now, but he rolls over and sort of snuggles backwards into Caduceus’ orbit until his friend takes the hint and closes the gap. One arm drapes over him and comes to rest lightly on his arm. 

“Is that okay? Not too much?” A bass whisper behind his ear.

“It’s okay. Thank you.” Caleb affirms.  “Good. That’s nice. I’d like to try another spell, then do you think you could go back to sleep for a little?” 

Caleb nods assent and feels the cool whisper of Caduceus' magic course through him. It doesn’t do much for his stuffy head but it takes the edge of the aches and relaxes his nerves somewhat. Perhaps that’s the placebo effect of knowing someone is making an effort on his behalf. Whichever it is, Frumpkin seems to approve. The cat settles in littlest-spoon position in front of him, purring like an engine. That is all Celeb needs to send him back to sleep.

……….

Caleb wakes groggily. His impeccable sense of time tells him that it is morning; he has slept the whole night in Caduceus’ bed. He does feel better for it; his sinuses are hot and achy, his throat is raw and his lungs tight, but he no longer feels feverish. He sits up on one elbow and rubs tentatively under his nose, trying to dull the ticklish feeling. It doesn’t work and he smothers his face against his forearm to sneeze once, twice, three times in miserable succession. 

“Bless you.” A familiar voice from the other side of the room, scratchy and worried. Not Caduceus- just Nott. The goblin woman is sitting criss-cross applesauce at the end of the mattress, apparently waiting for him to wake. At the sudden motion she looks up, big yellow eyes meeting his for a second before he sneezes again.

“Thadk you,” Caleb says thickly. “Hallo Nott.” 

While he recovers, she crawls up to his side of the bed and inspects him closely. “‘Deucey said you were better, but you look like shit.” She says mournfully. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He says honestly. It has only been 24 hours but he is still not entirely used to her leaving his side. The fact she let him out of her sight and into Caduceus’ care says a great deal about how safe they both feel in this group. He adds, “trust me, I am feeling a lot better than yesterday. Caduceus gave me some tea and a spell for the fever. Now I just feel like I have a cold.”

“Okay then. Caduceus had to go out, but he says you should have some more tea when you wake up. I could bring it for you...?” It’s a question. She is half expecting him to refuse or at least make it himself. 

To her surprise, Caleb nods gratefully. “Yes please, that would be nice. Thank you, Nott. Do you think you could bring my book as well? Then we could sit together.” 

Of course she can.

By the time Caleb actually makes it down from the tower it is midday. Caduceus returns and checks him over before allowing him out of bed, which Caleb tolerates with as much grace as he can. His head feels like it’s plugged with cotton and the cough has gotten more persistent, but he feels better in himself. With a few spare handkerchiefs tucked into his pocket and Frumpkin as a warm weight around his shoulders, he feels ready to return to his usual routine.

He runs into the Jester in the dining room. Her exotic sapphire skin looks out of place among the homely pots and pans. She wears an apron and an expression of contentment as checks on something sweet-smelling in the oven. She straightens as he walks in.

“Hey, Cay-leb!” Her accent gives his name that sing-song quality that means he can never be sure if she’s teasing him. She dusts her hands on her apron and crosses to him.

“Should you even be up? Caduceus said you had a pretty high fever and you shouldn’t get a fever with a cold, you know, unless you’re really run down. Let me feel-” She reaches out her hands for him. 

“Jester-” he holds up a hand in warning and manages to turn his head and smother three sneezes into the crook of his arm. It makes his head spin and when his vision clears Jester is laughing at him, but fondly.

“Bless you, Cayleb!” 

He laughs too, and doesn’t duck this time when she catches his face in both hands and frowns at him. He feels a blush race up his neck when she smoothes a thumb over his cheekbone.

“Well, I don’t think you have a fever now. Honestly it’s kind of hard to tell because I run hot, but you look okay. For you.”

“Danke, Jester.” 

“You should probably have a bath, though. You’re pretty stinky right now.”

Okay, he is fairly sure she is teasing him. A bath sounds really good though. His back aches from laying for so long and the steam might loosen the congestion that makes him sound like he’s speaking through concrete. 

“Hey, you go put your things down and I’ll run it for you. Go on.”

“I can- he begins but Jester gives him a stern look and he shrugs, relenting, “Ja. Okay. Thank you. That would be nice.”

The bath is indeed excellent. Something in the bubbles Jester has put in it makes him sneeze ticklishly, startling Frumpkin every time, but then he would probably be sneezing anyay. He soaks for nearly an hour, feeling the warmth seep into his bones. 

As he towelling his hair dry afterwards there is a knock on the door. 

It’s Beauregard. “You naked?” 

“Nein, I am dressed now.” He affirms. “Come in.” 

She slouches against the doorframe, eyeing him through the steam. 

“Hey, so I, uh, heard you weren’t feeling well. You look okay now though, so that’s good I guess.” She spreads her hands, awkward as ever, but Caleb can see past her gruffness to genuine good-will. “But, uh, just kind of wanted to say if you ever need anything from me, all you gotta to do is ask, you know?” 

Even yesterday he might have brushed her off. Today her voice is still a little loud and makes his head hurt, but it also touches him. 

“What Beau said.” That’s Fjord’s voice. He comes to stand behind her and nods at Caleb. “Even when we’re not fighting anything, you still gotta keep yourself healed up, alright.”

“Ja. Okay. Point taken. Thank you.” 

They hover for a moment until Fjord suggests, “Why don’t you come upstairs. I don’t know what Caduceus cooked but it smells real good.”

The dining room is bright with magical lamps. Caduceus is setting out bowls for everyone, Nott and Yeza are already seated and chatting fondly. Yasha is stoking the fire. He knows it’s not for her benefit, with her barbarian blood, but for his, and feels the chill at his limbs lift as soon as he reaches the threshold. Fjord, Jester and Beau take their places at the table at once with a bustle of cutlery and chinking of glasses that makes his sensitive head swim.

It’s very loud in there, very busy, and he is not ready for the weight of all their eyes on him. He honestly doesn’t feel hungry. Whatever good smells Fjord was enjoying, Caleb can’t detect them through his stuffy nose and he knows every swallow will hurt his throat.

He feels sniffly and gross and vulnerable and unfit for company. His instinct is to apologise and retreat to his room to suffer alone. It would be so easy.They would all understand if he said he felt too sick to sit with them.

He is about to make his apologies when Caduceus approaches and places a gentle hand on his shoulder. The firbolg gives him a sympathetic look that makes his lovely, almond shaped eyes turn up at the corners. His hair is bound up out the way of the food, showing the fine rose-coloured down on the shaved part of his skull. He looks soft and welcoming. 

“Hey, it’s good to see you up. Do you think you can come and sit with us? I made stew for everyone, but mostly for you. Nice and easy to swallow.” 

“Sure.” Caleb finds himself saying. “I’ll give it a go.” 

“That’s nice,” Caduceus says happily and turns to fetch Caleb a bowl. 

It is nice, actually. Caleb manages to eat a little, mostly to make Nott and Jester stop giving him looks, but there is no pressure when he pushes the bowl away. The hot meal makes his nose run and sets him coughing enough to interrupt the conversation, but Beauregard just leans over to thump him on the back and keeps right on talking. Caduceus passes him a clean handkerchief under the table without drawing attention and noone complains when he turns away to use it. 

After the meal he is persuaded to drink a glass of wine and join the rest of the Mighty Nein in the shared space Jester has coined the ‘happy room’. He feels a little weak and shivery, and is about to cross the room to grab a blanket when Yasha tosses one over to him.

“Here, you should have this one,” she says, indicating the delicate embroidered wildflowers over thick wool. “It’s my favourite.” 

“It’s beautiful.” He agrees. 

The wine has gone straight to his head. He can feel the relaxation seeping through him. 

Soon he is yawning and leaning back against Caduceus on the sofa, staring into fire as the chatter of his friends flickers out of focus. 

His nose is still bothering him. He sniffles softly, trying not to draw attention, then gasps when the itchy feeling flares suddenly and throws him forward in a sneeze.

““Ah-Tsssh! Ah-tssh-ue! ...ugh. I’m sorry.”

“Wildmother bless you, sweetheart,” Caduceus says fondly.

It happens again, loud enough to make everyone’s heads turn toward him, which sends a blush creeping up his neck. But there are no disgusted glances, just a few raised eyebrows and absent-minded blessings as they return to what they were saying. 

As if they don’t mind. As if he has every right to be here, whatever state he’s in. As if they want him around, whether he is contributing  right now or not.  

He does feel better for the soup and the spell and the company. More than that, he thinks he can feel something within himself start to heal, too. 

It’s taking a long time, but with these people it might just be possible. 

END.