#or like when sun or moon burn something y/n just gently reassures them and shows how you can fix it.

[strawberrymothteeth]

y'all want cryptid au comic or cooking comic?

[beifongsss]

the boiling rock [zuko]

Pairing: Zuko x reader

Disclaimer!: The reader is Sokka and Katara’s older sister!

Requested?: Yes! By @thegirlwholikestomanythings​: “ Hi! I have a Zuko x reader request if you don't mind. Maybe something like the reader being Katara and Sokka's older sister and Zuko having a big crush on her after he joins in S3?”

Summary: Sokka goes to break Hakoda out of The Boiling Rock and is shocked to find you there as well. He’s even more shocked when he figures out that Zuko’s a simp for you.

this is based off of the boiling rock episodes but there are a few changed made! there’s also like a pov change halfway i’m sorry. TIS A LONG ONE!!

.masterlist.

~

When Zuko defeated Combustion Man, Aang didn’t let him join the group until he gained approval from all of his friends.

“Toph, you're the one that Zuko burned. What do you think?”

The blind earthbender smirked, a sinister look on her face as she pounded her fist into her palm. “Go ahead and let him join. It'll give me plenty of time to get back at him for burning my feet.”

Satisfied with her answer, Aang turned to the Water Tribe boy. “Sokka?”

“Hey, all I want is to defeat the Fire Lord. If you think this is the way to do it, then, I'm all for it,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall near him.

“Katara?” Aang asked uncertainly, noticing the stony look on the Water Tribe girl’s face.

“I'll go along with whatever you think is right,” she replied, glaring at Zuko.

“Great!” Aang said, ignoring Katara’s reaction. “Then that’s settled. Welcome to the group Zuko!”

Zuko paused slightly, looking around as he noticed the absence of the other Water Tribe girl he had always seen with the Gaang.

“Not that I’m complaining,” the prince said, a questioning look in his eyes. “But isn’t there someone else you should be asking? Where’s the other Water Tribe girl?”

The group went silent at Zuko’s words as Katara’s face hardened and Sokka looked away, a sad expression making it’s way onto his face.

“She’s gone,” Sokka said roughly as he began to storm off.

Katara reached out for his arm, grabbing onto him as he passed her. “Sokka, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Not my fault?” Sokka roared, stray tears escaping his eyes as he faced Katara. “It was my invasion plan Katara! I should’ve taken the fall. Not her!”

He shrugged her hand off before walking off deeper into the Air Temple. Katara sent Zuko another glare before hurrying after her brother, leaving him alone with Aang and Toph. Zuko glanced at Aang uneasily, not wanting to ask about what had happened. With a sigh, Aang sat down looking at Zuko expectantly.

The prince sat down across from Aang as Toph sat to his left, the usually loud-mouthed girl abnormally quiet.

“The other Water Tribe girl that would travel with us is (Y/N),” Aang explained quietly. “She’s Sokka and Katara’s older sister.”

Zuko nodded in response before speaking. “W-What happened to her?”

“She got captured by the Fire Nation on the Day of Black Sun,” Aang replied, looking down at his lap. “You know about the invasion right?”

Zuko nodded once more.

“Well it was Sokka’s invasion plan,” Aang continued. Zuko’s eyebrows rose up in surprise, going unnoticed by Aang. “He came up with it and (Y/N) and Hakoda, that’s their dad, fine tuned it. They thought of everything that could possibly go wrong and when the day came, Sokka was the one leading it.”

Aang’s face suddenly turned into one full of guilt. “I-It was actually my fault that she got captured. If I hadn’t gotten distracted by Azula, we could’ve gotten away before the eclipse was over. Instead, they caught up to us before we could get back to the beach. Hakoda told us all to leave on Appa and to take the youngest members of the group but (Y/N) didn’t fit because we had Teo, Haru, and The Duke with us. So she decided to stay behind and take the blame for the invasion so that they wouldn’t go out and look for us. She said that they’d believe her because she was traveling with the Avatar and because she was the daughter of the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe and she had a reason to want to attack the Fire Nation.”

Aang couldn’t stop the tear that slipped out. “I guess she was right because we weren’t followed after we escaped.”

“C’mon Twinkletoes,” Toph said, leaning back on her hands. “(Y/N) knew what she was getting into. She’s not dumb. She’s strong, smart, and patient. In fact, I’m willing to bet she’s making those Fire Nation guard’s lives hell.”

Zuko observed Toph as she spoke about the missing Water Tribe girl. “How are you so sure?”

“Please,” Toph scoffed, cracking her knuckles. “She’s the only idiot here that can beat me in a fight. She’ll be fine.”

“Oh,” Zuko said, slightly surprised. “Is she a waterbender too?”

“Nope,” Toph said. “That’s how I know she’s okay. She can beat me in a fight, and I’m the greatest earthbender in the world! I invented metalbending.”

Zuko’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at Toph’s words. “She beat you without any bending?”

“She did,” Sokka’s voice rang out. The group (except Toph) turned around to find Sokka walking towards them. “Which is why we needed her here, not in prison. She shouldn’t be paying for my mistakes.”

Without another word Sokka climbed onto Appa, shooting Aang a look when the Air Nomad shot him a worried glance. “Don’t worry Aang. I’m just gonna clear my head. Yip yip.”

The conversation ended with Sokka’s departure and silently, Aang showed Zuko to his room.

~

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Sokka asked, catching Zuko’s attention as he handed him a cup of tea. Zuko set down the tea and followed Sokka to where he was standing, softly petting Appa when he opened his eyes to look at them.

“So, what’s up?” Zuko asked, looking back over at the group before focusing on Sokka.

“If someone was captured by the Fire Nation, where would they be taken?” the Water Tribe boy asked, trying to look nonchalant. At Zuko’s suspicious look, he spoke again. “When the invasion plan failed, some of our troops were taken. I just want to know where they might be.”

“We both know this is about your sister, Sokka,” Zuko replied. “I can’t tell you.”

“What? Why not?” Sokka asked, mildly irritated. 

“Trust me,” Zuko said, turning to leave. “Knowing will just make you feel worse.”

“It’s not just about (Y/N)!” Sokka hissed, causing Zuko to stop in his tracks. “It’s my dad. He was captured too. I need to know what I put them through.”

“It’s not good Sokka,” the prince replied, not meeting his eyes.

“Please.”

Sighing deeply, Zuko gave in. “My guess is, they were taken to The Boiling Rock.”

“What’s that?”

“The highest security prison in the Fire Nation,” Zuko ignored Sokka’s horrified look. “It's on an island in the middle of a boiling lake. It's inescapable.”

“So,” Sokka said, trying to appear indifferent. “Where is this place?”

“Why do you need to know?” Zuko asked, eyes narrowing. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing!” Sokka tried reassuring the prince. “Boy, you’re so paranoid.”

Zuko rolled his eyes before replying. “It's in the middle of a volcano between here and the Fire Nation. You guys actually flew right past it on your way here.”

“Thanks Zuko,” Sokka said before letting out a very fake yawn as he stretched. “Just knowing makes me feel better.”

“Sure it does,” Zuko scoffed, watching the Water Tribe boy walk away. Noticing that everyone was getting ready to go to bed, he stealthily climbed up onto Appa’s saddle, gently shushing the sky bison when he once again opened his eyes.

~

At this moment, Zuko sort of regretted joining Sokka on his journey. After having successfully convinced him to take his war balloon instead of Appa, the two boys found themselves existing in awkward silence.

“Pretty clouds,” Sokka spoke first, slightly startling Zuko.

“Yeah...fluffy,” the Fire Nation prince replied before focusing on the fire again. Sokka began whistling casually, drawing Zuko’s attention. “What?”

“What?” Sokka asked, the awkwardness between the two boys palpable. “Oh, I didn't say anything. You know, a friend of mine actually designed these war balloons.”

“No kidding,” Zuko said with slight surprise.

“Yep. A balloon...but for war,” came the other boy’s reply.

“If there's one thing my dad's good at, it's war.”

“Yeah, it seems to run in the family.”

“Hey, hold on,” Zuko said, slightly offended. “Not everyone in my family is like that.”

“I know, I know,” Sokka replied, hands raised in defense. “You’ve changed.”

“I meant my uncle. He was more of a father to me. And I really let him down.”

“I think your uncle would be proud of you,” Sokka said, looking at Zuko intently. “Leaving your home to come help us? That's hard.”

“It wasn’t that hard.”

“Really?” Sokka asked in disbelief. “You didn't leave behind anyone you cared about?”

“Well I did have a girlfriend,” Zuko replied, smiling slightly. “Mai.”

“That gloomy girl who sighs a lot?” Sokka asked, trying to hold back his smile.

“Yeah. Everyone in the Fire Nation thinks I'm a traitor. I couldn't drag her into it,” Zuko explained before hesitating slightly. “Besides, I didn’t truly like her. Trust me, I know that sounds bad. When we were kids we liked each other, but we’re not kids anymore and we’ve both changed and things just weren’t working out.”

Sokka nodded in understanding before crossing his arms. “My first girlfriend turned into the moon.”

Zuko paused for a few seconds, looking up at the moon and wondering if Sokka was being serious before turning to him. “That’s rough buddy.”

Silence ensued again, the scene almost relaxing if it weren’t for the fact that the two of them were heading for the most high-security prison in the Fire Nation.

“So,” Zuko broke the silence, looking at Sokka uncertainly. “What happens if we get there and (Y/N) isn’t there?

The question caught Sokka off guard, causing him to scowl. “She will be.”

“But,” Zuko pressed, trying to make the boy understand. “What if she isn’t?

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Sokka replied, crossing his arms and looking away as he tried not to think about Zuko’s words.

“Why don’t you just wait until after Aang defeats my father to set everyone free?” Zuko asked softly. “You’d have a much better chance then.”

“You just don’t get it!” Sokka yelled, looking back at Zuko. “See you and your sister might not get along very well but (Y/N) is the most important person in my life. She was the one who took care of me and Katara after our mom died. She was the one who basically led our tribe after the men went off to fight. She always knew what to say and what to do. We need her Zuko. I need her, Katara needs her, Aang definitely needs her, heck even Toph needs her!”

Zuko stayed silent as he focused on the fire, giving Sokka a few minutes to calm down.

“You’re right Sokka,” he finally said. “I don’t get along with Azula. We’ll find her.”

Sokka didn’t reply, instead choosing to look up at the moon, hoping that he had made the right choice.

~

Soon enough, they had reached The Boiling Rock. Zuko followed after Sokka, a bit disgruntled at the fact that his war balloon had been destroyed. They had somehow managed to get guard uniforms and sneak into the prison, a feat Zuko found impressive considering that Sokka didn’t have a fully thought-out plan.

“I hope these disguises work,” Zuko hissed, shoving Sokka softly with his shoulder.

“We just need to lay low and find (Y/N) and my dad as soon as possible,” Sokka quietly replied, rubbing his shoulder. “Ow!”

“Guards!” another guard ran past Sokka and Zuko, causing them to flinch. “There’s a scuffle in the yard. Come on!”

The two boys exchanged looks before running after the guard, eventually coming to an open space where a guard was harassing a prisoner. The rest of the guards were trying to keep the other prisoners away from the confrontation. Sokka subtly tilted his head, motioning for Zuko to join the other guards. They split up slightly, trying to keep the crowd in control.

“I didn’t do anything,” the prisoner in the middle of the platform stated, walking away from the guard. “I’m going back to my cell.”

“Stop right there Chit Sang,” the guard said, sending a fire whip towards him. “I’ve had it with your unruly behavior.”

One of the prisoners Zuko was trying to hold back began to slip past him and he reached out to grab them. His eyes widened when he made eye contact with the girl, who then promptly proceeded to shove him off of her and onto the ground. Zuko stared at the girl, his heart speeding up slightly and his stomach lurching as she shot him a glare and marched right up to the guard who had created the fire whip.

“Leave him alone!” she growled, stepping in front of Chit Sang. The guard simply laughed before stepping forwards.

“What are you gonna do Water Tribe scum?”

Zuko flinched as Sokka swatted him, tilting his head towards the girl. “That’s her! That’s (Y/N)!”

Sokka grasped Zuko’s arm tightly, knowing that he couldn’t jump to his sister’s defense. The two of them watched in anticipation as the guard shot out a blast of fire, aiming it at you. Zuko’s eyes widened at the sight. You weren’t a bender, you were going to get burned.

His jaw dropped as you gracefully slid underneath the blast before coming up and swatting the guard’s hand away. When the guard tried to aim at you again, you swept your leg in a graceful arc, knocking him down. You were amazing.

“Cuff her!” the guard barked, embarrassment clear on his face as all the other prisoners cheered. Two of the other guards grabbed you roughly, cuffing your hands behind your back and shoving you roughly in front of the guard you had knocked down.

“You think you’re tough, don’t you?” the guard asked. You didn’t look at him.

“Look at me when I speak to you!” the guard screamed. The yard went silent as everyone waited to see what you would do. Slowly, you lifted your head and met the guard’s eyes. His face held a smug expression, which was soon wiped off when you leaned forward and spit in his face.

The yard went wild again, the guards struggling to keep the prisoners under control. The bully guard lunged forwards, gripping your face tightly in his hand. He stared you down for a few seconds before tossing you to the ground. Scowling, he turned to Sokka and Zuko, who seemed to be the only guards not busy at the moment. “You two! Take her to her cell.”

Sokka picked you up and Zuko led them inside, stealing glances at you as you walked. At one point Sokka caught his gaze, giving him a confused look before his eyes widened in realization. He looked between you and Zuko before glaring at the prince and shaking his head furiously. Zuko avoided his gaze after that. They found your cell quickly enough and Sokka softly pushed you in before stepping inside and pulling Zuko with him.

He took off your cuffs easily enough and you stepped away from him, rubbing your wrists gently.

“What do you want?” you snarled, eyes shifting from one guard to another.

“(Y/N)!” one of them cried out, moving towards you. You sidestepped quickly, grabbing his arm and shoving him up against the wall. He groaned in pain as you pulled his arm back.

“What do you want?” you hissed, not taking your eyes off of the other guard.

“(Y/N/N),” the one you were holding squeaked. “It’s me!”

Your eyes widened at the voice and you stepped back, still keeping your hand on the guard’s arm. “Sokka?”

Sokka used his free hand to take off his helmet, a large grin on his face as he turned to look at you. “Yes! It’s m-”

His words were cut off when you yanked on his arm, pulling him close to you as you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. Sokka melted into the hug, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he held tears back.

“Spirits,” you whispered, pulling back and looking at your baby brother. “Sokka what are you doing here? How did you get here?”

“Uh, we took my war balloon,” the other guard replied. You froze slightly at the familiar voice, turning to find Prince Zuko standing there, waving awkwardly.

“You,” you snarled, stomping up to the prince and pushing him up against the wall. You held your forearm against his throat, staring him down. Zuko didn’t do anything in return, a dazed smile on his face as he stared back at you.

“(Y/N) what are you doing?” Sokka yelped, placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked away from Zuko, glancing at your brother in disbelief.

“What do you mean? Have you forgotten that he’s tracked us all over the world? Or that he’s tried to kill us? Multiple times!” you glanced at Zuko again, noticing that he was still smiling. “Why are you smiling at me? Sokka, why is he smiling at me?”

Sokka snorted softly, the scene in front of him reminding him of the first time Aang had met him and Katara. Shooting a tired look at Zuko, he gently pulled you away from the scarred prince. “I don’t know why he’s smiling at you but I do know that he’s part of the team now, so lay off okay?”

You looked at him in disbelief before whirling around and facing Sokka. “Alright but that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“We’re here to break you out?” Sokka said, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned his gaze to the floor.

“Seriously?” you hissed, stepping closer to him and causing him to stumble back. “This couldn’t have waited until after Aang defeated Ozai?”

“I told you so,” Zuko mumbled, shooting a pointed look at Sokka.

“Stay out of this,” you whisper-yelled, pushing him back up against the wall with one hand. “You have to leave. Both of you.“

“Well you see,” Sokka said, chuckling slightly as he met your gaze. “We can’t exactly do that.”

“Yes you can,” you replied, grabbing Sokka and proceeding to push the two boys towards the door. “Just get back on your little war balloon and leave.”

Zuko and Sokka exchanged nervous glances at the mention of the war balloon, causing you to narrow your eyes at them.

“Don’t say it.”

“It popped!” Sokka squealed, bouncing away from you as he noticed your expression. “But we’ll get out of here, and you’re coming with us.”

You couldn’t help but facepalm at your brother’s words.

~

The guards had only released you from your cell when it was your turn to do the cleaning. You hadn’t heard from Sokka since he had left you, and you were worried that he had gotten caught. You were so distracted by your thoughts that you didn’t notice the other prisoner who was mopping, resulting in you bumping into them and falling down.

“I’m sorry,” the other prisoner said, extending a hand to help you up. You glanced up, making eye contact with Zuko. Your eyes widened almost comically and you grabbed his hand, simultaneously pulling yourself up and pulling him closer to you.

“Where is my brother?” you asked as you leaned in close, panic in your voice as you whispered in his ear. Zuko tried to ignore the blush on his cheeks as your close proximity, focusing on your question.

“He’s fine,” he whispered back. “It was just me who got caught.”

You let his hand go, stepping back and nodding subtly before going back to mopping. Zuko stayed close to you, pretending to be focused on his mopping as he stole glances at you. Feeling his gaze, you looked up and arched an eyebrow as you made eye contact. The prince flushed when he realized he had been caught, looking back down before speaking.

“I-I never introduced myself,” he spoke softly. “I’m Zuko.”

“I know,” you replied flatly, walking further away from him. Zuko stood awkwardly for a moment before inching closer to you again.

“So you’re (Y/N),” he spoke again. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

You snorted at his words, your eyes not leaving the ground. “Yeah I’m sure it is.”

“You’re a really good fighter,” Zuko continued, still trying to make conversation. “Even back when I was still hunting the Avatar you were the one that I was most worried about holding off.”

“Good to know,” you said drily, finally looking up at Zuko. “Look, Sokka may trust you but I don’t, okay? First of all, you haven’t really done anything but cause trouble for us. Second of all, you actually brought my brother here. I appreciate the sentiment but I’m not exactly thrilled at the idea of my baby brother breaking into a Fire Nation prison.”

Zuko swallowed harshly, looking away. “I’m sorry. But he was really adamant about rescuing you and your dad and-”

“Wait,” you interrupted Zuko. “I’m the only Water Tribe member here. My dad is still being held somewhere in the Fire Nation capital.”

Zuko’s eyes widened briefly before he composed himself. “Oh. Alright then I guess that means we can leave as soon as Sokka comes back to meet us.”

The two of you continued to mop in silence before someone suddenly grabbed your upper arm, causing you to stiffen and causing Zuko to get into a defensive stance.

“Calm down, it’s just me.”

“You really have to stop doing that Sokka,” you hissed, yanking your arm away from him. “Zuko told me about why you’re here. I hope you know we can leave now. Dad isn’t here.”

Sokka’s face fell briefly before he forced a smile onto his face. “He may not be but guess who is? Suki! Why didn’t you tell me she was here (Y/N)?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you whispered. “Maybe because I was too busy freaking out about the fact that my kid brother and the Fire Nation prince broke into prison and don’t have a way to get out!”

“Shh!” Sokka hissed, putting his hand over your mouth. “Be quiet! And I’m not your ‘kid brother’, you’re only a year older than I am.”

Zuko stayed quiet as the two of you stared each other down before Sokka let out a yelp and took his hand off your mouth. “Did you just lick me?”

You didn’t reply, a smirk on your face as you crossed your arms. Zuko stifled a laugh at the scene in front of him, coughing quietly when you shot a look at him. The three of you stood still as a new voice interrupted.

“So, what’s the plan?” Suki stood near you, hiding in the shadows that the staircase provided. You exchanged a glance with Sokka, nodding in encouragement.

“So, listen, I think I have an escape plan,” Sokka began, a little nervous at being in charge of the escape plan. “I checked out the coolers again, and the point of them is to keep firebenders contained, right?”

“Yeah,” Zuko replied, unsure as to where this was going. 

“So, they're completely insulated and sealed to keep the cold in. Well, to keep the cold in, it also has to keep the heat out, right?”

Zuko and Suki exchanged confused looks before looking over at you, only to see you smiling widely as you caught on.

“Just get to the point Sokka,” Suki said, glancing around nervously.

“It's a perfect boat for getting through the boiling water!” you said, eyes sparkling as you looked at Sokka proudly. Despite the situation, Zuko found himself smiling at the sight of your smile.

“Sokka,” you said, leaning in close to your brother while keeping your eyes on Zuko. “He’s doing it again.”

Sokka scowled and smacked Zuko’s head, causing the boy to straighten up and ignore Suki’s smirk. “The cooler as a boat? Are you sure?”

“I’m telling you, it’ll work,” Sokka said, giving them each a serious glance. “I walked around the perimeter. There's a blind spot between two guard towers. It's the perfect launching point. I already tested it out. We'll roll the cooler into the water and just float with the current. It'll take us straight across. As long as we don't make a sound, no one will notice. And bing-bang-boom, we're home free.”

“But how are you going to get the cooler out?” Suki asked, a worried frown on her face.

“Yeah. How are you gonna get the cooler out?”

The four of you turned as Chit Sang landed next to you, causing Sokka and Zuko to stutter as they tried to tell Chit Sang that they weren’t planning anything. You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to Chit Sang before speaking. “That’s easy, isn’t it? We just need to get a firebender into the cooler.”

Sokka and Zuko gaped at you, shocked that you had given them away.

“Calm down,” you scoffed, patting Chit Sang’s back. “Chit Sang and I go way back. He’s the one who made all the other firebenders leave me alone.”

Chit Sang nodded before turning back to the group. “Look I won’t tell the warden about your plan if you let me come along.”

Sokka stared at you intently, the two of you having a silent conversation before turning back to the group. “Fine! But we need to get someone into the cooler.”

Sokka handed Zuko a wrench. “Here. You’re going to unbolt the cooler, from the inside.”

Zuko looked back at Sokka, confused. “How am I going to get in there?”

You grinned widely, patting Zuko’s chest as you walked past him. “I got this. Follow my lead.”

You picked up your mop, motioning for Zuko to do the same. You began mopping, casually walking around as you kept Zuko in your periphery. The prince didn’t dare look at you so he was caught by surprise when you bumped into him from behind.

“Hey!” you snapped, turning around and glaring at him. “Watch where you’re going.”

Zuko froze for a split second before realizing this was your plan. “You’re the one who bumped into me. How about you watch where you’re going?”

A smile played at the corner of your lips as you stared each other down. Zuko noticed and felt his cheeks grow warm as he tried to hold back a smile of his own. The two of you stood there for a few seconds, staring at each other until Sokka coughed loudly.

Tearing your eyes away from the prince, you lunged at him. He easily dodged your swing before throwing a halfhearted punch back at you. You rolled your eyes as you kicked at him, losing your balance slightly as he swatted your leg away. You recovered quickly and threw another punch, a soft gasp leaving your mouth when he grasped your wrist and twirled you around, your back pressed against his chest as his arm held you tightly in place.

You struggled for a moment, sighing in defeat when you realized just how strong he was. You tilted your head back slightly, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered into it. “You have to firebend at me Zuko.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mumbled back, causing you to roll your eyes again.

“I’m a big girl. I can handle myself,” you replied. With a grunt, you elbowed him in the stomach. He let out a soft ‘oof’ and you took that chance to break out of his hold. You dropped down and spun, your leg outstretched as you tried to knock him down. He jumped over your leg easily before shooting out a blast of fire at you. He held his breath for a second, sighing in relief as he noticed you roll out of the way.

“No firebending!” a guard shouted, roughly grabbing Zuko from behind. You sent him a soft smile, receiving a smirk in return. As he was led away, Suki came up to you, a big smile on her face.

“So,” she said, her tone teasing. “What was that?”

“Yeah (Y/N),” Sokka said, crossing his arms as he came up to you. “What was that?”

You rolled your eyes before walking past the two of them. “It was a fight.”

“That’s not what it looked like from my point of view,” Suki called out after you, causing Sokka to send a glare at her. You simply chuckled at her words.

~

“(Y/N)?”

You stood up from the floor of your cell, looking at Sokka as he stood outside your cell. “Yeah?”

“It’s time.”

Sokka opened your cell and threw you a guard’s uniform before quickly closing the door and allowing you to change. When you were done, you knocked on the door three times, fixing your helmet as you waited for him to open the door.

Together, the two of you made your way towards the cooler, trying to avoid any guards on your way.

You opened the door to the cooler, a small frown making its way onto your face when you noticed that Zuko was shivering.

“I can take you back to your cell if you’ve learned your lesson,” Sokka said, looking way too smug. You rolled our eyes and focused on Zuko as he looked up at the two of you. His eyes met yours as he let out a breath of fire, his shivering stopping completely. He sent you a cocky smirk and you ignored the flopping you felt in your stomach at the sight of it. (A/N: y’all know what smirk i’m talkin bout)

“Yes I have,” he breathed, showing you both all the bolts and screws he had removed. “Completely.”

“I got Suki and Chit Sang out of their cells a few minutes ago,” Sokka whispered. “They'll be waiting for us at the shore.”

“Someone’s coming!” you whisper yelled, letting out a small yelp when you were pulled into the cooler. The three of you barely fit into the cooler but that didn’t make it any less cold. Even though you had grown up in the South Pole, you found yourself shivering at the temperature, your breath coming out in icy clouds.

Zuko glanced down at you, a frown appearing on his face as he noticed you shivering. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, bringing you in close as your expression changed into a bewildered one. You opened your mouth to say something, but quickly shut it when you realized just how warm he was. Sokka, unfortunately, didn’t stay quiet at the scene playing out in front of him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he screeched quietly, trying to pry the two of you apart. You quickly pushed him away.

“Sokka, shut up,” you mumbled as you wrapped your arms around Zuko, your teeth still chattering. “He’s warm and I’m freezing.”

Sokka’s jaw dropped as you casually buried your face into Zuko’s chest, a content sigh escaping you as you got warmer by the second. Sokka stayed quiet as the voices outside got closer, instead miming a throat slitting motion as he stared Zuko down, causing the prince to swallow harshly.

“...Yeah. new arrivals coming in at dawn,” a male voice sounded, catching your attention.

“Anybody interesting?” a female voice asked in reply.

“Nah, just the usual. Some robbers, a couple traitors, some war prisoners,” you and Sokka exchanged a disbelieving look.  “Though I did hear there might be a pirate.”

“No fooling!”

The voices faded as they walked away and you all took that chance to leave the cooler.

“War prisoners,” Zuko stated, his eyes not leaving Sokka’s. “Could be your father.”

“I know.”

“Well, what should we do?” Zuko asked. “Are we going ahead with the plan or are we waiting another night?”

“I don't know!” Sokka cried out, looking distraught. “Is it right for me to risk Suki and (Y/N)’s freedom, all of our freedom, on the slim chance that my dad is gonna show up?”

You stayed quiet, not knowing what to say.

“It’s your call Sokka,” Zuko finally said, trying to let the other boy know he was there for him.

Sokka thought about it for a moment, eyes focused on the ground. After a few seconds he looked up and scowled, crossing his arms as he glared at you. “You can let go of him now (Y/N).”

A bright blush erupted on your cheeks as you looked at Zuko, an embarrassed expression spreading across your face as you realized you were still holding onto each other. You stepped away from him quickly, clearing your throat as you did so.

~

The three of you had somehow managed to get the cooler down to the shore, not that it mattered considering the fact that Chit Sang had just taken your only means of escape. It wasn’t his fault really; it was you and Sokka who had been extremely hesitant to leave, not wanting to risk the chance of your dad being on the gondola the next morning.

Suki and Zuko had stayed behind with you, the four of you waiting in the blind spot for the gondola to arrive. It had almost been light out when alarms were set off, causing all of you to whip your heads to where the cooler had been floating off.

“The plan failed!” Sokka said sadly. “They got caught.”

“I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t go along with them huh?” you said, earning a dull look from your brother.

“The gondola's moving,” Sokka said suddenly, grasping your hand. “This is it. If my dad's not there, we've risked everything for nothing.”

“We had to,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand. The four of you now stood in the yard as you waited in anticipation, looking up as the gondola doors opened.

“Is that him?” Zuko asked as the first prisoner got out.

“My dad doesn’t have a nose ring!” both you and Sokka exclaimed, looking at the prince weirdly. More men came off the gondola, both you and Sokka shaking with anxiety as you kept an eye out for Hakoda.

“Where is he?” Sokka asked as the last man stepped off. “Is that it? That can’t be it.”

“I’m sorry,” Suki whispered, rubbing both of your backs.

“Hey you!” the guard called out, drawing your attention. “Get off the gondola.”

You waited with bated breath for the last person to emerge, your hand tightening around Sokka’s and causing him to wince. Your eyes widened as you watched the final prisoner get off, dark jaw-length hair surrounding a face that held tired blue eyes. You immediately turned to Sokka, tears threatening to spill.

“Sokka,” you whispered. “It’s dad.”

~

You had been pacing back and forth worriedly ever since Sokka had gone to join the other guards and quite frankly, both Suki and Zuko were tired of it.

“Please just stand still (Y/N),” Suki said, gently reaching out and grabbing you. “If something was wrong, we would’ve heard it already. Your brother isn’t exactly the quietest.”

You nodded in agreement and sat down, nervously biting your lip as you waited for Sokka to return. You barely flinched as Zuko sat next to you, Suki giving him a knowing glance as she wandered off slowly.

“Look,” he began, staring straight ahead. “I know you don’t like me, but I need to tell you this okay? As much as you can’t help but worry, you shouldn’t. Sokka’s smart and he knows what he’s doing...sort of.”

He chuckled at the halfhearted glare you directed at him. “I’m kidding. But really, Sokka’s smart and brave and he was so set on coming up here and breaking you out and I know he’s going to do it because he has heart. Plus he has you helping him out. So stop worrying so much okay? Also, never repeat any of what I just said to him”

You snorted at Zuko’s words before bumping his shoulder with your. “Thanks Zuko. You know what? Maybe you’re not as bad as I thought.”

The prince’s eyes widened in shock and he smiled down at you, blushing slightly when you smiled back. Your moment was ruined when Sokka came sprinting back, causing Suki to join you as well.

“(Y/N), c’mon! I found him,” Sokka exclaimed. Without another word, he grabbed your arm and dragged you away from the group. A wide smile was on his face and you felt yourself smile as well when you came to a stop in front of a cell.

Sokka slid the door open, looking around before ducking inside and draging you with him. “Thank goodness you’re okay!”

“Oh you’ll see just how ‘okay’ I am,” Hakoda replied, swinging at what he believed to be a guard. You stepped in front of Sokka before pushing Hakoda’s arm out of the way, ducking under it and pushing him softly before pulling Sokka out of the way.

Hakoda’s eyes widened at the familiar movements,searching the faces of the two guards standing before him. “Sokka? (Y/N)?”

"Dad!” you cried out in unison with Sokka, the two of you removing your masks as you smiled at Hakoda. His eyes filled with tears as he brought you into a hug and you couldn’t help but let a few tears slip as well.

“Where’s Katara? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine dad,” you said, tightening your hold on Hakoda. “She’s not here.”

“Where’s Bato?” Sokka asked, pulling away. “Where’s everyone else from the invasion?”

“The others are being held at a prison near the Fire Nation palace,” Hakoda replied. “They sent me here because I kept being difficult after they singled (Y/N) out as the leader and sent her here. But before I left, I met some young women who said they knew you. The...Oshinama Fighters? ”

“You mean the Kyoshi Warriors?” you asked.

“That’s right.”

“Their leader Suki is here,” Sokka said, a blush visible on his face. “She’s gonna escape with us too!”

“Good. We'll need all the help we can get.”

“And you know Prince Zuko?” Sokka asked, getting excited at the thought of finally leaving.

“The son of the Fire Lord?” Hakoda asked hesitantly. “I don't know him, but I know of him.”

"Well he’s here too!” Sokka exclaimed.

“That sounds like a major problem,” Hakoda replied, crossing his arms as his face hardened.

“Actually,” Sokka said, smiling nervously. “He’s on our side now.”

Hakoda shot him a disbelieving look, causing you to step in.

“I had the same reaction dad,” you said, putting a hand on Hakoda’s shoulder. “But he really has changed. He came here with Soka to break me out. He’s been a big help.”

Hakoda’s face softened at your words. You had always been a good judge of character, so if you approved of the prince, then he did too. “So, do you have a plan?”

“We had one,” Sokka said, looking down sadly. “But some of the other prisoners got involved and ruined it. I dunno if there's another way off this island.”

“Sokka, there's no prison in the world that can hold three Water Tribe geniuses.”

“Then I guess we’d better find two more to help me plan something,” you teased, making Hakoda laugh and earning a dull look from Sokka.

~

You sprinted towards the yard, having been distracted by another guard for a few minutes before all the prisoners had been let out. When you reached your dad, Suki, and Sokka, you were surprised to see Chit Sang speaking with them.

“Hey you! You're lucky I didn't rat you out,” Chit Sang said, staring Sokka down. “But my generosity comes with a price. I know you're planning another escape attempt, and I want in.”

You nodded at Sokka, telling him to go along with it. He sighed softly before facing Chit Sang. “Actually, we're trying to escape right now, but we need a riot. You wouldn't happen to know how to start one, would you?”

“You seriously couldn’t start a prison riot?” you asked in disbelief, looking at the three of them in disappointment. “C’mon Chit Sang, let’s show them how it’s done.”

The two of you stepped forwards, Chit Sang picking up another prisoner as you strutted up to one of them.

“Hey everybody!” you yelled, the yard going quiet as you spoke. Without hesitation, you punched the prisoner closest to you. “Riot!”

The yard exploded into chaos as people began fighting and throwing stuff around. You quickly fought off the prisoner that you had punched before returning to your friends.

“Impressive,” Hakoda said, looking around at all the chaos.

You turned and swung as you felt someone bump into you, the person letting out a loud grunt as your fist met their face. Your jaw dropped as your eyes met piercing gold ones, your hands coming up to your face in slight horror as you realized that you had just punched Zuko.

“Yep,” he said, clutching his face. “I probably deserved that after everything I’ve done to you.”

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out in between giggles, earning a smile from the prince.

“Zuko! Good, we’re all here,” Sokka said, drawing you all into a huddle. “Now all we need to do is grab the warden, and get to the gondolas!”

“And how do we do that?” Zuko asked.

Sokka hesitated for a few seconds. “I’m not sure.”

Zuko groaned, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I thought you thought this through!”

“I thought you told me it's okay not to think everything through”

“Maybe not everything, but this is kind of important!” Zuko cried out.

“Hey fella,” Chit Sang interrupted, tapping Zuko’s shoulder before pointing at you. “I think your girlfriend’s taking care of it.”

“You’re dating my daughter?” Hakoda asked, glaring at Zuko.

“W-What? No!” Zuko cried out, slightly fearful of the Water Tribe Chief.

“Damn right you’re not,“ Sokka said, crossing his arms before Chit Sang spun him around.

“Your girlfriend too buddy.”

All four males went silent as they observed both you and Suki. You swiftly made your way up the tower, effortlessly taking guards down as you inched towards the warden. Suki took a stance at the base of the tower, fighting off any other guards who attempted to rush to the warden’s rescue. She was a truly impressive sight, her training as a Kyoshi Warrior shining through as she took down every guard that came at her effortlessly. Sokka stood a few yards away, awestruck at the sight in front of him.

Meanwhile, you had successfully made your way up to the top of the tower. You made quick work of the remaining guards before finally facing the warden.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he snarled, getting into a defensive position.

“Watch me,” you quipped, lunging at him. You avoided his punch, grabbing his wrist and spinning him around before shoving him up against the railing. You grabbed his sash, tying his hands before knocking him down and making sure he was tied securely before smiling over at your dad. “You’re my prisoner now warden.”

Down in the yard, Hakoda, Zuko, and Chit Sang all stared at you in awe, Sokka still focused on Suki.

“That’s my girl,” Hakoda stated, a proud look on his face as he looked up at you.

“Do you think she’d want to be my girl?” Zuko muttered dazedly, unintentionally speaking louder than he meant to. When he realized what he had said, he looked up in embarrassment, being met with an amused glance from Chit Sang, a harsh scowl from Hakoda, and a sharp slap from Sokka.

“Shut up!” Sokka hissed before grabbing Zuko’s arm and rushing to join you and Suki.

You all ran to the gondola, making sure that the warden was still tied up as you dragged him with you.

“We’re almost there!” Suki cried out.

“Spoke too soon,” you groaned as a group of guards came across your path, immediately sending two blasts of fire at you. You yelped as Zuko pulled you out of the way before stepping in front of you and dissipating the blasts. He sent a series of blasts back at them before grabbing the warden from you.

“Back off! We've got the warden!“ he shouted, successfully stopping the guards. When they didn’t make any movements he grabbed your hand and tugged you along. “Let's go”

Suki was the first to make it to the gondola, holding the door open for everyone else. “Everyone in!”

You all clambered on and you glanced around, realizing that someone was missing.

“Zuko!” you yelled, looking back at the prince. He started the gondola and you felt yourself panic as the guards closed in on him. “What are you doing? Hurry up!”

“I’m making it so that they can’t stop us!” With a few kicks, Zuko managed to break the lever that controlled the gondola before sprinting towards you. You leaned out of the door slightly, watching him in anticipation.

“C’mon Zuko,” you whispered to yourself, biting your lip as the gondola left the platform, now hanging freely. Zuko sped up and jumped, his feet landing on the edge of the gondola. He wobbled for a bit before you grasped his arm, fully pulling him into the gondola and into your arms. Zuko looked at you in confusion before wrapping his arms around you as well.

“Are you sure they’re not dating?” Hakoda asked, his voice quiet as he addressed Sokka. Sokka sent Zuko a menacing glare, the scarred prince gulping and loosening his hold on you when he noticed.

“What were you thinking?” you cried out, finally pulling away from Zuko and slapping his head.

“Ow!” Zuko hissed, rubbing the spot you had hit. “I was thinking ‘let me get rid of this lever real quick so that they don’t catch us’.”

“You could’ve gotten captured!” you yelled at him, taking a step towards him.

“Way to think ahead,” Sokka commented, saving Zuko from another slap.

“We’re finally on our way.” Suki sighed, sharing a soft smile with Sokka.

“Wait,” Hakoda said, leaning out of the window. “Who’s that?”

You leaned out of the window on the other side of the gondola, resisting the urge to blush as you felt Zuko’s chest press up against your back as he tried to get a good look at the platform.

“That’s a problem,” Zuko groaned. “It’s my sister and her friend.”

“This is a rematch I’ve been waiting for,” Suki growled, cracking her knuckles.

“Get in line,” you scoffed, your eyes narrowing as you watched the princess approach. You climbed out of the gondola and onto the roof, being followed by Sokka, Suki, and Zuko.

Suki and Sokka turned to face Ty Lee as she landed onto the roof gracefully, quickly becoming preoccupied with the chi-blocker. You carefully observed Azula as she landed a few feet away from you, staring you down as she stalked closer.

“Well, well, well,” she spoke, her voice taunting. “If it isn’t the Water Tribe scum.”

“Don’t speak to her like that,” Zuko barked, stepping slightly in front of you.

“Aww, does Zuzu have a little crush?” Azula teased, pouting as she shifted her gaze to Zuko. “Snap out of it Zuko. We raided her village multiple times. She’ll never see you as anything other than a monster.”

“Still not over what your mother used to say about you huh?” you shot back, missing the hurt look in Azula’s eyes as she shot lightning at you. You swiftly dodged the blast and ran at her, sliding onto the ground when she let out another blast.

Zuko watched as you stood up, landing a solid hit on his sister before bouncing back and dodging the hit she sent your way. He tried to find an opening to attack Azula but eventually gave up for fear of hurting you. Instead he chose to jump into the fight and wipe out the blasts Azula kept sending at you, even if you were expertly dodging them.

Azula soon grew tired of the fight, and knowing that she couldn’t beat you in the moment decided to send a blast of fire at Zuko. She caught him off guard and although he managed to wipe out the blast, he ended up tumbling back and landing dangerously close to the gondola’s edge.

“Zuko!” you yelled, momentarily distracted from the fight. Azula took this chance to kick you down, punching you before kicking you once more when you tried to scramble to your feet. You were sent stumbling against the metal handle that attached the gondola to the cable, gasping in pain as you crashed against it. She grinned widely when your head hit the metal.

You blew your hair out of your face, wincing as you reached up to touch the sore spot on your head and sighing when you noticed the blood on your fingertips.

“You have nowhere to go,” Azula stated, stalking towards you. Blue fire danced at her fingertips, her eyes hungry with anticipation as you struggled to stand. “Such a shame, you could’ve been a great asset to me.”

“I would rather die than join you,” you shot back, finally managing to stand up.

“Fine,” Azula spat, the fire growing as she narrowed her eyes. “Have it your way.”

You closed your eyes and braced yourself, knowing that you were in no shape to block her attack. You felt the heat approaching before it disappeared. Opening your eyes, you gasped softly as you saw Zuko standing in front of you. He sent blasts of fire back at Azula before the gondola swung dangerously, sending them both stumbling.

“They’re about to cut the line!” Ty Lee shouted at Azula.

“Then it’s time to leave,” the princess smirked. “Goodbye Zuko.”

Azula blasted away as Ty Lee backflipped gracefully onto the other gondola. Zuko glared at Azula briefly before rushing to your side, reaching down and gently picking you up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his face twisting with concern as you stumbled.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Just peachy.”

You tried to walk on your own only to stumble once more and fall right into Zuko’s arms. You shook your head slightly, trying to walk off once more.

“(Y/N), stop,” Zuko said, scooping your legs up and fully carrying you.

“P-Put me down!” you yelled, drawing Sokka and Suki’s attention.

“Hey! Put her down,” Sokka cried, rushing over to your side. He was stopped when the gondola swayed again.

“Stop struggling,” Zuko hissed, tightening his grip on you. “You can’t walk without stumbling. You probably have a concussion.”

You pouted but stayed silent, knowing that the prince was right. Carefully, he made his way over to the edge of the gondola, noticing that Hakoda was leaning out of the window. Carefully, he handed you down to him, making sure that you were safely inside before swinging himself in as well. Sokka and Suki quickly followed.

“They’re cutting the line,” Zuko stated, exchanging glances with everyone else. “The gondola’s about to go!”

“I hope this thing floats,” Hakoda said, fussing over your head wound as you tried to push him away.

“Hey!” you suddenly cried as the gondola began to move. You glanced out the window. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Mai!” Zuko exclaimed, his eyebrows furrowing as he observed her fighting with the guards.

The gondola made it to the other side without any other mishaps. When you got there, Zuko carefully picked you up once again, making his way out of the gondola. Sokka kept his gaze on him, only looking away when he felt Suki grab his hand. She shook her head at him before looking at you and Zuko. “Calm down. There are worse people she could be with.”

Sokka rolled his eyes at her words before trailing after Zuko, a barely visible smile appearing on his face as he noticed how Zuko was fussing over you as well. Hakoda and Chit Sang tossed the warden back into the gondola before joining the group. They all walked for a while before Zuko paused, standing on the cliff that was overlooking the rest of the volcano.

“What’s wrong Zuko?” you asked quietly, your eyes not leaving his face as he scanned the landscape in front of him. At this point, everyone else had backtracked to where you were standing.

“My sister was on that island,” was his only response.

“Yeah, and she's probably right behind us, so let's not stop!” Sokka said, trying to convince Zuko to keep moving.

“What I mean is she must have come here somehow,” he replied, his eyes still looking around.

“There!” you exclaimed, pointing at a large airship. “That's our way out of here!“

~

The six of you all managed to make it to the airship quickly enough and Zuko quickly lit the fire and guided it away from The Boiling Rock. The atmosphere was lively as everyone tried to catch up with each other, the excitement from the day eventually leaving everyone as the sun began setting. One by one, everyone fell asleep until it was just you and Zuko awake.

You had been looking around the ship, smirking in victory when you found a first aid kit. Silently you wandered out to where Zuko was, trying not to startle him.

“Long night?” you asked, leaning on the wall next to him.

“Someone has to keep the fire going,” he retorted, a faint smile present on his handsome face.

“Can you help me?” you asked quietly, meeting his eyes as he turned to face you. He nodded and you handed him the first aid kit before sitting down in front of him. You flinched slightly as his hand grabbed your jaw, closing your eyes as you reveled in his touch, remaining oblivious to the way his heart was racing at the close proximity. His touch was feather light in comparison to the guard who had grasped your jaw in a similar way back at the Boiling Rock. You snorted softly as you recalled the incident that had taken place a mere day ago; it seemed like it had happened ages ago.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko whispered, tilting your head to get better access to the cut on your head.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt,” you murmured back, eyes still closed.

“Not about that,” Zuko replied, cleaning the wound as best as he could with the supplies you had given him. You hissed softly as he tried to place the bandage on, breathing deeply to try and ignore the pain. “I’m sorry about everything. I’m sorry for hunting the Avatar down and chasing you all around the world. I’m sorry about your mother. I’m sorry for the raids that tore your village apart. I’m sorry that I kept causing you harm even when I had the chance to do good.”

You opened your eyes at his words, reaching up and gently grabbing his hand to bring his attention to you. He could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat. You stared at him in silence, his golden eyes never leaving yours even as he fidgeted uncomfortably under your gaze. Your face softened as you realized just how full of guilt Zuko really was, your heart aching as you realized that you couldn’t spend any more time hating him. Not when he had already done so much to try and make up for his mistakes.

“No Zuko,” you finally spoke, guiding him to take a seat in front of you. “I’m sorry for being so harsh towards you. You did more than enough to prove that you aren’t the same bratty prince you were when we first met but I wasn’t willing to look past the fact that you were once our enemy. You left the Fire Nation to help Aang and I can’t imagine how hard that was-”

“Trust me,” Zuko interjected, laughing humorlessly. “It wasn’t that hard. My father and sister are horrible people.”

“Still,” you said, leaning in a bit. “They’re your family. Betraying your family isn’t easy, even if you don’t get along with them.”

Silence ensued as Zuko stood up and carefully finished bandaging your cut. He took his seat in front of you once more, watching the fire as you watched him.

“What?” Zuko asked, his cheeks heating up he realized that you were still staring at him.

“Thank you Zuko,” you stated, finally looking away from the golden-eyed boy.

“Don’t thank me,” Zuko replied. “It was Sokka’s idea to break you out.”

“I mean for saving me from Azula,” you whispered, looking back up at him. “She really had me backed into a corner.”

“I wasn’t going to let her hurt you,” Zuko stated, staring into your eyes. “Sokka would’ve killed me if we came all this way just to lose you to her.”

You giggled at his words, causing him to smirk in satisfaction as he realized that he had made you laugh. “He would’ve, wouldn’t he?”

There was another silence before you spoke up again. “In all seriousness, thank you. I never thought that I’d be calling Prince Zuko my hero.”

Zuko gulped as he realized just how close the two of you were. Neither of you made a move to back away and you flushed when you caught yourself glancing at the prince’s lips.

You blushed harder when you realized he had caught you in the act.

“Zuko,” you whispered, squeaking softly when said boy leaned forwards and connected his lips with yours. The kiss was soft and hesitant, with both of you holding your breath as you realized you were kissing each other.

Pulling away, Zuko’s eyes widened. “Oh spirits. I-I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just did th-”

You cut Zuko’s apology off with another kiss, this one a little less awkward. His hand came up and grabbed your waist, pulling you a little closer as his other hand cupped your cheek. Your hand came up to grab his forearm, your brain trying to comprehend the fact that you were kissing Zuko and wondering how in the world he was such a good kisser.

“I thought you said you weren’t dating my daughter.”

The two of you flew apart as you heard Hakoda’s voice.

“D-Dad!” you exclaimed. “We weren’t- I wasn’t-”

Hakoda held up a hand to stop your stuttering. “It doesn’t matter. He risked his life to help your brother break you out of prison which means he’s good in my books. Just please don’t kiss in front of me. And maybe don’t let Sokka find out about this just yet. Good night.”

You turned to Zuko in embarrassment as Hakoda walked away, making eye contact with him before the two of you dissolved into laughter.

“Well that’s one way to get the parent’s approval,” you muttered, smiling at Zuko as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into him.

The two of you spent the rest of the night awake, talking about everything and nothing, stargazing as Zuko kept the flame alive.

“You know, I used to know the moon spirit when she was alive,” you said smugly, glancing up at Zuko as he smiled widely at you.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah! In fact, she was Sokka’s first girlfriend.”

Zuko smiled and pressed another kiss to your lips, smiling softly when he felt your hand come up to his chest.

And in that moment, Zuko knew he had made the right decision by deciding to join the Avatar. After all, if he hadn’t then why would the universe have chosen to reward him with something as amazing as you.

~

taglist!

@musicalkeys, @mywigglybaby​, @bubblebars​, @iguessthefloorislava​

[goodnightyoongi]

Yoongi x fem!reader pt4

genre: hurt/comfort/smut

rating: E

word count: 4,5k

summary: In this series, Yoongi and you are childhood friends, and he’s helping you through some issues you’ve been facing lately, while your relationship slowly blossoms into something more. 

warnings: implied depression, self-critical thoughts, EXPLICIT SMUT (oral sex) in the later part of this chap. Start and finish are indicated

Can be read standalone, but is part of a chaptered series

Part I: Catalyze

Part II: Flicker

Part III: Rise

“...and yeah, that’s...why I haven’t been keeping up with my schoolwork.”

You finished the sentence with a timid glance at the curly-haired woman on the other side of the desk. Her hands were knitted on top of the table, one of her eyebrows slightly arched. You understood why. Answering the question “so what seems to be the issue here,  Miss Y/LN ?” hadn’t been easy, and you were pretty sure it hadn’t made sense, either. 

Basically, you had just stuttered some disjointed, vague gibberish about "feeling a little under the weather lately". Aka, nowhere close to the truth. And now, the anxiety was making itself known. In the form of beads of moisture running down your neck, and your hands fidgeting in your lap.

Because you didn’t want to be here. In fact you wanted to be anywhere but here.

But once again, Yoongi had showed himself perfectly able to push you into motion and help get you back on track. Using his steady, encouraging flow of reassurances, and fingers laced into yours as he pulled you with him to your final destination. And now you were here. Squirming uncomfortably in a chair in the university counselors office, and discussing why you had fallen behind on your studies, all entirely against your will if you were honest.

Your eyes wandered over the neat rows of folders on white shelves, the piles of documents on her desk, the sterile academic environment. Run, is what your brain told you. Just get up, walk out, escape this situation – but Yoongi’s hand, inconspicuously resting on your thigh, prevented it.

Because he’d insisted on coming with. And now he sat next to  you, like a parent there to discuss his child’s progression. Clad in his usual uniform, black hoodie and snapback pulled far over his forehead, all in order to avoid being recognized. It worked, and you alone had the counselors undivided attention.

“So, if I understand correctly,” she started, pushing her half-moon glasses further up her nose. “You’ve been...feeling ill? That's why you’ve been absent?”

"Uhm...kind of..."

“I see here that you have a lot of overdue assignments...and you haven't attended classes...but it would be best if you book an appointment with the university healthcare, if you have a condition that interferes with your ability to study.”

Your ears heated up as you digested this information. A tiny, sober voice within you told you yes. Do it, open mouth, voice the issue. Another, more overpowering and toxic one told you no. Repeatedly, until it was basically chanting it like a whole firing squad in your brain.

“No, no, I don’t need to. I...uh, I’ll make sure to finish all the assignments, ma'am. Just been feeling a little...unwell, but, yeah. I’m fine.”

You ignored Yoongi’s pointed glare, along with his attempts to kick you in the shin under the desk. Your counselor expressed clear puzzlement over the sudden change in your narrative.

“Oh? But didn’t you say that you’ve been feeling down and experiencing difficulty with keeping up with your studies?”

“Uh...yeah but, it was just a temporary slump,” you lied, and accompanied it with the most convincing smile you could conjure. “I really am fine, and I will catch up on it. Promise.”

“Miss Y/LN...I really do think you should go see the healthcare unit.”

“No need, I’m fine, I’m absolutely –”

“She’s depressed.”

The sharp exclamation draped itself over the three of you, and the office fell silent. You slowly turned to your left, quiet anger flaring in your gut. And Yoongi, the bastard, was wearing a polite smile and blatantly ignoring your burning looks.

The perplexed-looking lady opposite you blinked about a million times in confusion, before clearing her throat.

“Is what your friend is saying true, Miss Y/LN? You've been feeling depressed?”

Your airways were blocked, by what felt like a thick bundle of dry cotton. You didn't get a word out. Yoongi decided to just nod in affirmation on your behalf.

"Yeah, yes, she’s...been down. Not left her apartment much and just slept and not eaten and...I think she needs to see someone.”

“Oh, oh dear...well, that sounds worrying indeed." The lady turned to you with a motherly smile. "I’ll book you an appointment to the healthcare center, Miss Y/LN. They can refer you to a mental health professional if there's a need for that...hold on a moment...”

She started tapping something on her computer, while she kept talking, but you didn’t focus on it much. You were forced to just listen and accept the documents shoved into your hands, with the appointment date and other information. Forced to nod affirmatively when she announced it would be next week.

Not like you were about to go. No way.

Once you were dismissed, you were fuming. You stormed out and over the university grounds, leaving Yoongi and the repeated stream of requests to slow down behind you.

“Y/N, fucking wait – jesus, can you wait!?"

He finally caught you, but you ripped your arm from his grip instantly, backing further away while spitting furious words in his face.

“No, I can’t! Why the hell did you have to tell her that, Yoongi?! You had no right to tell her I’m…”

You came to a screeching halt just as you were about to say it, and gathered yourself. Yoongi regarded you from a distance, his eyes like dark, tranquil oceans as usual.

Always so understanding, always compassionate. Even now when you wanted none of it.

“I’m not depressed. Everything is fine with me.”

You said it with steadfast conviction. Maybe, if you said it enough times, it would become true.

The wind rustled the leaves in the trees around you. It was actually a beautiful day. The warm rays of sunshine heated your back up, and Yoongi’s sympathetic smile was securely in place as always.

“Y/N...I had to. If you get to decide yourself you just dodge your issues and pretend they don't exist for all eternity. I can’t just stand by and witness it anymore, okay? Please just trust me. Everything isn’t fine with you.”

“Yeah it is,” you interjected stubbornly. You shook your head, shook it until nausea hit you and you just stumbled uselessly when trying to vocalize what you felt.

“It is, and I don’t want to go...it makes me feel sick. I don’t want to talk about it...I don’t want to be the person who has something wrong with them, Yoongi...I want to be normal.”

Your voice was suddenly saturated with hysteria and tears, and Yoongi was on you in an instant. Picking you up, just like he always did, collecting the pieces and patching you up again. You sobbed into his hoodie, and asked him, over and over again, why it was so hard.

“It’ll get easier,” Yoongi promised. He hugged you as you cried, while a warm breeze blew past and gently ruffled your hair and dried your cheeks. “It will. But not until you face it, hun.”

During the next few days, you spent a lot of time hunched over your laptop. Slogging your way through email after email, and doing your best to figure out exactly how far behind you were in your studies. 

Really damn far turned out to be the answer.

You did his best to fix that, finishing up half-written essays and projects collecting dust on your hard drive until you were close to crying from the effort. All of this happened while Yoongi sat next to you, peering over your shoulder and making sure the process was moving forward. But it left you exhausted, and the list of assignments was mile-long.

“I’ll never have energy to finish all this...might as well drop out,” you whined, face buried in your hands, multiple times when it all felt too overwhelming. But Yoongi wasn't about to just accept that. Of course he wasn't.

“Nope, you sure as hell won’t,” was his stern reply to that. He was like an impenetrable wall you couldn't bulldoze your way through, and so you remained in front of the laptop, while his hawk eyes made sure your attention stayed on the screen.

Annoying. It was, but you had to admit it was effective. After many cups of espresso and bordering-on-meltdowns the list gradually shortened, and you were left slightly less stressed. But you’d transformed into a wet rag at the end of it, a wet rag that Yoongi transported to the couch and kissed and hugged and showered with compliments about how you were doing so well.

And it felt good, admittedly. Even though he must be lying through his teeth. His arms wrapped around you also felt great, and his gentle kisses made you all tingly – but that was the problem. He was too gentle. Too soft, like you were some kind of fragile flower to be handled with care.

Yet another week had passed since your almost-steamy-encounter on Yoongi’s couch. Another week’s worth of wet daydreams, of imagining the two of you in scenarios that stretched so much further than just kissing. Another week’s worth of not daring to make the first move.

Because without alcohol flowing through you, you remained much too shy and insecure, even though he was your boyfriend now.

The desire you felt for him made your blood pump faster, made your lower regions heat up. Every time Yoongi held you, every time he sat next to you with his elbows leaning on the table. Because you just wanted so badly for those veiny hands to undress you. To wrap around you. To travel further down and envelop you, all of you.

But at the same time, you were scared when imagining it.

Maybe Yoongi’s vision of you wouldn’t match the reality, the you hidden underneath the oversized sweaters and baggy sweatpants you’d worn for the past week. Maybe he would just see what you saw in the mirror. 

Someone a little too gray and washed out, who didn’t get nearly enough sun and who lacked that rosy, healthy glow on their cheeks.

Maybe Yoongi’s feelings would even cool once he saw your body. Despite all the things he’d said for the past weeks about how you were gorgeous and beautiful and perfect. 

The thought brought you close to tears.

You just felt like an illusion, about to crumble anytime now.

All of this messed things up, and soon you found yourself in bed. At 5PM on a Saturday evening. And all of Yoongi’s messages sat in your phone, unread and ignored since a good 24 hours.

You were pushing him away again, and it was just a matter of time until the doorbell would ring.

It did, like an ominous church bell ordering you to return to the land of the living. And you dragged yourself over the same damn floor, towards the same damn door, mentally preparing for yet another lecture by the same person you’d let down, again.

“Hey there, bun,” Yoongi greeted casually, leaning against the wall in the corridor when the door slid open. “What’s up? Ignoring my messages again?”

“Yes,” you confirmed dully. Unnecessary to pretend otherwise, and you were aware how wantonly snappy you sounded. Yoongi took absolutely zero notice of it. He looked stunning as ever, the dark hair slightly tousled by the wind and hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

Hands that still hadn’t touched you where you wanted them to and when would they?

You slammed the door with unnecessary force after Yoongi strode past you, causing him to turn around in surprise.

“Woah? Easy with that. Bad mood huh? Look kinda rough.”

“Yeah. I always look kinda rough, if you haven't noticed.”

“Hold it right there. Don’t twist it into something it’s not. I just meant you look a little tired.”

He gave you a sharp glance, a warning that clearly told you "don't even try to argue". You yielded, heaving unhappily. 

“I’m sorry. I just...I wasn’t feeling well, and everything just felt shit, and...I couldn’t get out of it”

“Uhuh...that’s...kinda why you need some help, sweetie.”

“I don’t need help.”

You tried, but it was weak at this point. Yoongi closed in on you, raising a hand to cradle your cheek and sneaking the other one around the small of your back.

“Sorry to slap you with uncomfortable truths, but...yeah, you do. And I understand that your mood shifts and you want to be alone sometimes...but please don’t ignore my texts. You're making me sick with worry when you don't answer. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Alright, baby. So did you shower today?”

“No.”

“Eat?”

“No.”

“Y/N...that’s no good." He trapped you in a kiss, before separating you and giving you another look that left no room for arguing. "Come on. Go get showered or changed and whatever you need and let’s head to the shop.”

You huffed, turned and stomped off to your bedroom without a word.

Getting changed and going outdoors didn’t feel tempting at all. You dug through your closet, but once again there was nothing of use, because once again you'd failed to do the laundry. Because you’d been nestled in bed instead. And crawling into it again felt like a splendid idea now.

"How's it going over here?"

Yoongi had made an appearance in the doorway. He raised a critical eyebrow, skeptically eyeing the pajama shorts and coffee-stained t-shirt you were still wearing. You just stared blankly ahead, cross legged on the bed and not about to move another inch if you could avoid it.

"Badly. Have nothing to wear and I'm hideous."

You knew how that sounded, oh you knew. But you could do absolutely zilch to prevent it. Yoongi closed the distance between you, his gaze oddly dark, like a looming thunderstorm.

"Stop saying those things about yourself."

You bounced up, gurgling with unidentified frustration you just couldn’t seem to kick.

"No. Because it's true."

“It's really not. I understand it feels true to you. But you’re stuck with these ideas about yourself, because you’re seeing everything through a skewed lens. That makes you overly critical of yourself. Understand, baby?”

“Nope. You’re fucking wrong.”

Yoongi's finger on your mouth silenced you. He was right in front of you now, and he leaned in until his lips brushed over your ear.

"You're not hideous. Get that through your thick skull."

And then he pulled back, and kissed you. And it wasn't gentle. In fact it was everything but gentle. It was demanding, his tongue finding its way into your mouth and his fingers weaving themselves into your hair and his nails scraping over your scalp.

When you finally parted, your body was already in overdrive, your pulse crashing through your veins and your lower regions practically on fire and thumping almost painfully.

"Think it's about time I touched you, huh,” Yoongi pondered, eyes half-lidded and with his finger pressed down on your lower lip.

You just swallowed, whining something that sounded like "uhuh" in response. Yoongi's hands were all over you in an instant. He swung you around with your back facing him, and moved your hair out of the way so he could press feather light kisses down the junction of your neck. You were lost, to the unexpected shivers worming all over your skin, lost until you heard a request that made your knees weak.

"Is it okay if I take off your clothes?"

"Ye– yeah," you managed, without really thinking. There was just a split second of self-consciousness, and then your shirt was pulled over your head, your shorts hiked down – and you were bare, save for your underwear. You went rigid for a second, shielding yourself, but Yoongi untangled you quickly.

"Nah, none of that. Don’t do that. Let me see you."

He looped his own arms around your waist, and sprinkled kisses all over your exposed skin – your shoulders, your jawline, everywhere he could reach. And then, he spun both of you around. Facing the full length mirror, the one you’d been about to throw out so many times now.

"Look at yourself."

You looked. And looked away the next second. You saw yourself, the body you hadn’t studied for a while. You saw your skin illuminated by the lamplight, showing every little imperfection in unforgiving technicolor. And you saw Yoongi's toned arms blanketing you.

"Yeah, I'm looking. What's there to see? I'm, just...whatever. Just...meh."

"No. Not meh. Everything but meh. Stubborn, a little bratty, but definitely not meh."

He forked fingers into your hair, yanking you back to stress the fact.

"Or ugly. Or useless Or anything negative you want to imagine. I know you don’t see it yourself, but trust me, then. Can you do that?"

“Maybe.”

^^^^^^^^

You couldn’t, still – but you were coming undone, basically unable to speak, unable to do anything but succumb to Yoongi's voice and touch and tongue leaving goosebumps all over your skin. 

Your breaths picked up as he unhooked your bra, sliding it off and throwing it to the side. You let out a pitchy whimper and dropped your gaze as he cupped your breasts. One by one, gently caressing them and rolling the pink buds between his fingers.

“Beautiful. Beautiful and mine,” he whispered into your hair.

He kept one hand loosely around your throat, while the other traveled down your spine – down, down down and all the way down. There, he gathered one of your asscheeks into his hand, squeezing possessively and pressing his own, very blatant boner against your ass.

“This too,” he purred cheekily, a little louder, and slapped it once, very lightly. 

And you choked.

Well, nearly. Choked on the feeling of the pulsating, warm and very real body pushed up against you. It infused you with a craving that practically hurt, and you gasped in surprise when Yoongi’s hand snaked its way to your front, sliding down to part your thighs. He nibbled on your neck, while his fingers found your clit, lightly brushing over it and drawing moan after bated moan from you.

"You're hot, okay. I love your face, I love your body, I love your personality, you’re gorgeous and don't ever doubt that." Yoongi murmured, while stroking you through your underwear and holding you steady with his free hand. "I've wanted to fuck you for ages."

Oh shit. Okay. All you could do was whimper needily in response. The sinful confessions into your ear made your head spin violently – and that voice. Surely couldn’t belong to Yoongi – it was too husky, just oozing dominance – but it did. It did and it seeped right into every corner of you, into every cell of your body all the way into your fingertips and not least, your crotch.

And you felt like you might suffocate from the pressure. From Yoongi's fingers rubbing teasing circles all over you, his breath hot and wet against the nape of your neck.

"I want to see you too,” you whined, wrenching yourself loose and pawing desperately at his t-shirt.

"Sure thing, baby.”

You held your breath while his clothes were discarded. Shirt, jeans, briefs, and then he stood there, stripped in front of you. Not just a smudgy almost-Yoongi in one of your vivid dreams, but the real Yoongi. With a heinous twinkle playing in his mischievous eyes, his posture self-assured and his dick half-hard and smooth and...actually a little menacingly thick in girth.

You swallowed down the nervously flapping butterflies, and stepped forward, tentatively running hands all down his pale chest and around his back and his ass and absolutely everywhere.

You’d imagined this man naked so many times. All throughout your adolescence, and now that it finally happened, it felt like some trippy dream.

"God, you’re fucking...beautiful, Yoongi.”

"Says you.”

He grabbed you, kissing you and pressing the two of you together, with his hands firmly on your ass. And you heated up to scorching temperatures, while your brain was filled with only one thought.

“I want you.”

“Want you too. But we’re taking it slow.”

You grumbled, but he just briefly let his finger travel into your mouth, and smirked in response when you sucked on it like it was a lollipop. Then, you were hauled up and lowered onto the bed on your back, and turned into a shivering, whimpering wreck of a person. Yoongi kissed you, pushing his tongue in to drag it over the roof of your mouth, and continuing down your torso, your chest, your tummy until you shivered pleasantly underneath him. 

He mumbled little words of praise at you while he went, and your breath came out shorter and shorter the further down he traveled. Soon he had to tell you to remember to even breathe.

“Relax. You’re so pretty, been wanting you for so long.”

He parted your legs gently, wrapping his hand around your thigh and sucking teasing love bites into the sensitive skin until you were almost crying from the sensation.

“Want me to touch you, baby? Can I take these off?”

You curled your spine against the sheets, desperate for him to just do it already. “Yeah – yeah. Please.” 

"Good. Cause I'm really dying to."

Your panties slid off, finally, and Yoongi crawled between your legs, blinking up at you, dark eyes clouded with lust and tousled bangs falling into his forehead.  All of you was practically vibrating, filled with electricity sprouting underneath the tips of his fingers as he rested one hand on your tummy and settled the other one between your legs.

“Look at you...already so wet for me.” He spread you with a thumb, sliding it between your lips, and you whined in response. Not like he was wrong. You’d basically been soaking wet since that first kiss. “So pretty. I want to make you feel good, hun. Can I eat you out? Do you want that?”

You nodded frantically. You could feel your release literally around the corner, and whatever Yoongi was about to do to you would lure it out at record speed. He offered you one of his gummy grins, gripping your thighs with both hands for leverage and pushed his pink tongue out, dragging it all over your clit and making you cringe against the sheets. 

“God – Yoongi, holy shit-”

“You taste good. Fucking sexy as hell.”

You didn’t care about restraining yourself anymore. You allowed yourself to moan unabashedly while he sucked on your clit, and tantalized you by pushing his tongue into you and pulling it out the next second.

You hadn't been touched for so long, you hadn't come for so long . An eternity. And now you watched, eyes feverish, as Yoongi turned you into a slobbering mess in minutes. Your orgasm was close, and Yoongi must have felt it, because he quickly pulled back, lips glistening and cheeks flushed. 

Next you felt his fingers teasing your entrance, and he threw you a quick, questioning glance and asked, voice hushed and dripping with lust, if it was okay. You hurried to nod again, crying out when he pushed a finger into you, slowly gliding over your walls and filling you up, while his thumb rubbed against your clit. Settling on his knees, he threw one of your legs up and squeezed your thigh as he started finger-fucking you, slowly but surely.

You couldn’t help but wonder, amidst all the hazy pleasure, how the hell he was that skilled with his hands.

Probably because he was experienced. You knew he’d had kind-of-girlfriends, but maybe he'd even had multiple partners. That thought made you irrationally jealous, once again, and also worried you’d appear like a rookie in comparison.

But those thoughts were quickly washed away, for now, as Yoongi hit the spot again, and a pitchy whimper escaped you, echoing through the whole bedroom.

“You’re tight,” he hummed, gaze heavy on you. “How’s that? Feels good?”

“Y– yeah...feels great…”

Your neck cringed, your hands gripping the sheets as he picked up the pace, before adding a second finger. Soon he had two of them knuckle-deep in you, fucking you while working your clit while you squirmed against him to create even more friction. You watched him, his lustful dark eyes plastered on you, the veins in his arms tensing as he brought you closer and closer. 

"Yoongi...I'm gonna...c-come...if you keep doing that–"

"Well that's the goal, right? You're moaning so prettily, turning me wild," Yoongi teased, leaning forward. He positioned himself half-laying on top of you, so he was able to reach your quivering lips while his fingers slid in and out of you.

He kissed you hungrily, and you could feel his cock poking you in the side. You glanced down. There it was, all stiff and veiny and fully erect and – damn.

Yoongi wanted to fuck you with that.

You pictured it, and then you were done for.

"Coming?"

"Uhuh..."

"Go on, baby girl.”

Well. That did it. You shuddered your way through your release, spasming against Yoongi’s fingers and crying out a lewd and elongated “fuck” as you came. You faintly heard Yoongi mumbling something as you rode it out, and then you collapsed into the mattress. Completely drained, and with your chest heaving and droplets of sweat running down your neck.

^^^^^^^^

Yoongi pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, and withdrew his hand. "You okay, pumpkin?"

You nodded wordlessly, slow waves of pleasure still rippling through you. Yoongi sneaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against himself and squeezing you tightly. 

"See why I wanted to take it slow now? Yikes...you look like you just finished a marathon. Didn't take you very long.”

He nuzzled into your hair, and you weren’t even able to provide anything coherent in response yet. Soon he announced he was taking you to shower, and before you could protest you’d been scooped up and carried off, bridal-style.

The shower was turned on, and you were dazed when jostled into position underneath the spray of water. It splashed down between the two of you, heating you up as you rested your head against Yoongi’s chest, just enjoying the warmth and being so close to him for now. 

He pushed strands of soaked hair out of your forehead, and propped you up more securely when you were in danger of sagging to the floor. "Are you alright, sweetness?”

“Yeah...sorry, it’s been a while since I, uh…was...touched...”

You quietened, bashfully pushing your nose against his chest again to avoid meeting his eyes. He gave a little chuckle, and ran his hands all over your back in reassuring circles. 

“Yeah, I figured. That’s okay. Just take it easy, baby. I’ll take care of you, don't worry.”

Yoongi gathered you into his arms, and your throbbing muscles were soothed by the flow of hot water. But you also felt a rigid boner poking your thigh, still. Belonging to him. 

You peeked down at it. It was a little intimidating, but you were also eager to return the favor. Even though your tummy turned into slush at the thought of doing something wrong.

You swallowed down a lump, and Yoongi noticed your hesitance. 

“Y/N. Just relax.”

"You're still hard though, I can –"

"Yeah, duh, I'm hard,” Yoongi chuckled, and pressed a tender kiss to your lips to shut you up. “...cause that was hot,” he added, and your cheeks instantly turned tomato-red.

"But we got all the time in the world. I can wait. You're the most important, bun."

"Fine, ugh...okay."

You burrowed into his chest, letting out a soft moan when he squeezed some shampoo out and started massaging it into your scalp. Yep. You could definitely see yourself getting used to this.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

timeless - 06

PAIRING: medieval!james “bucky” barnes x reader

WARNINGS: mentions of wounds (bleeding), scars, trauma

A/N: today the only highlight of my day was spin class and whenever i get upset i just write, as hamilton would say, like i’m running out of time. enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

If looks could burn, Y/N would be ablaze.

The whole of court had their eyes on her almost creating a wall between her and the outside world. Whispers like “who is she” could be heard all over the tournament courts yet all Y/N could look at was the crown of blue flowers in her lap, almost as blue as the eyes that watched her like a hawk. Mindlessly, she smiled, cheeks rising up and eyes locking with his, a kind of understanding that she clearly didn’t understand. 

    - Come on. - Odette helped her up noticing the increasing madness settling on the Princess of Genoa’s eyes. Without much space for questions, Eliza and Odette were guiding her out the box and into the castle grounds, avoiding the crowd as much as possible. Y/N merely looked at the crown of flowers she was now holding, almost like a memory she didn’t remember. 

The three girls kept on walking deeper and deeper into the castle until they reached Y/N’s chambers, where she was pretty much thrown into before the door was locked behind them. 

   - You are gonna stay here while I try and ... make everyone peaceful. 

   - But I wanna thank Lord Barnes. 

   - I don’t know why you’re upset, Odette. It was pretty enthused to see Rosaline first get denied something in her whole life. - Eliza laid down on Y/N’s bed, a little smirk on her lips.- It’s not like they have copulated, Odette. There’s nothing you need to solve.

   - It is such an insult for someone not to offer the honours to the guest. The King is gonna be mad, the Queen is gonna be mad, everyone is gonna be mad and they are not gonna let it out on the Duke of Addia, they’re gonna let it out on the person with no noble status. - Odette pulled some flowers off her hair, trying to prep herself to try and beg the King to be kind to her lady in waiting. Eliza, on the other hand, had a small smile, almost pouty, looking at Y/N whose eyes were but much worried with the crown of flowers on her fingers, fingers playing at the browning that was already starting to appear at the edges of the pretty blue buds. - Eliza, you two stay here. 

   - Sure thing, your Royal Highness. - the other lady in waiting nodded as Odette left the bedroom. Once it was just the two of them, Eliza sat against the various cushions on Y/N’s bed. - You are so smitten. 

    - What? No!

    - Odette’s not here, you can tell me. You spent the whole tournament staring at him and when you weren’t staring at him he was staring at you. I hate to be the Odette of the situation but you need to be safe, Y/N. He is a deranged, dangerous man. 

    - Eliza, I know. - Y/N laid down next to her friend, crown still in her hands, as a tiny mindless smile made itself onto her lips. - It’s just, and this might sound silly, looking at him feels right. It’s as if I’m supposed to be looking at him. 

    - He’s a Duke, you’re supposed to look at him.

    - It’s not that. He could be a stable boy and he still has this ... magnetic nature about him, it just pulls you in. It’s like you’ve never knew you knew him until you looked into his eyes. - she raised the crown above her head, staring at the beautiful way the flowers intertwined with the metal base of the piece.

    - I think you need to rest, you’re spewing too much non sense. - Eliza got up from her bed, looking down at the woman who seemed frozen in her own mind. She ended up deciding to let Y/N remain in her bedroom alone, thinking that Odette would need more than her princess charm and empathy to take Y/N out of the mess Lord Barnes had so kindly laid upon her. 

The lady in waiting, on the other hand, merely turned around, laying on her side with her eyes still locked in the little flowers which seemed to mean as much to nature as they meant to her. Her gaze shifted from the hyacinths to the white rose she had gotten on top of her pillow the night before which now laid in a clear jar with some water. The scent. That intoxicating scent. 

She raised her torso from the bed, placing the hyacinths a bit away from her before reaching for the rose. She still didn’t know why it had been left on top of her bed or who had done it, yet she couldn’t help but feel a strange calm nostalgia about it. She remained like this for what seemed like hours, enough for the sun to set and allow her to wonder why Odette and Eliza hadn’t returned yet. After the sun set and the moon graced the skies up and high, she made up her mind to go and find the girls and so, with determination on her step, she walked off her bedroom and into the cold, dark halls of the palace. 

Truthfully, she wasn’t sure where they could be or if they even were within palace grounds as the King took pleasure in having guests visit the palace’s gardens during the night. Nevertheless, she continued to walk through the walls until a grunt made her stop. She held her hand up to her chest as she noticed a door slightly open, a flickering light, possibly coming from candlelight, lighting the hall very faintly.

The young woman was about to ignore it when another grunt came through which grabbed hold of her curiosity and almost by magic, she padded to the door, hand holding the side of it as she peaked inside. There he was, Duke Barnes, laying down in bed with a gloved hand, as always, over his shirt. She noticed the red tint staining the white linen of his shirt which had her wonder if he was in pain from the wound gained from the tournament. Surely the servants should’ve patched him up yet by the thickening of the stain on his shirt, she guessed that wasn’t the case. 

     - Are you alright? - Y/N put her hand in front of her mouth as those words came out of her mouth without her brain instructing them to do so. Along with that, she stepped inside his bedroom, standing slightly further away from the door, but still close enough to hold the handle. On the other hand, the Duke seemed surprised to see her, his expression changing as if the pain faded the moment her voice soared through the room.

    - Milady, my apologies if I woke you up. 

    - Didn’t they tend to your wound? - she pushed her hair up with the ribbon that was normally tied in a bow around her neck and rolled up her sleeves to her elbows before walking over to a small basin of water laying on top of his dresser and kneeling in front of him

    - The staff is scared of me, milady. 

    - You should call me Y/N. - she gave him a caring smile. - Take your shirt off, milord. If we leave a wound unattended, it’ll get even worse.

    - I can’t. - he responded with a monotone voice, barely above a whisper. His gaze was directed to her but it was as if it passed right through her body, almost as if he was, in fact, staring at the air, as if she were nothing but a spirit to him or a disembodied voice. Furrowing her brows at the man, Y/N placed a hand gently on his shoulder, to which he grimaced and winced before mumbling under his breathe. - Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me, don’t touch me, don’t touch me!

He repeated numerous times and then quieter, making her heart wrench as she watched him sit down, his body move back and forth to soothe his troubled thoughts which she wished she could see through but sadly couldn’t. The red stain on his shirt got deeper and more red, spreading almost way all the way to his hip. 

    - I know, milord, but I need to examine you and clean your wound. Trust me, it’ll be much worse if we let it sit. - she reassured him, petting his messy brown hair. How would she ask that train-wreck of a man to remove his shirt or, at least, let her remove it? He was shivering and trembling and his eyes seemed more like blue beads reflecting the tiles, nothing more. Lifeless and soul-less just like when she first met him. - Please. 

   - I can open my shirt but not past my shoulder. 

   - I’ve seen some pretty bad wounds, Lord Barnes. You don’t need to protect me from gore. 

   - I don’t think you’ve seen something like me before, milady. I don’t want you to see it. 

   - I want to help you, milord. I would love to help you but you have to remove your shirt, I can’t treat your wound over a shirt. - she added, making his head raise to look into her kind and soft eyes, windows to all the emotions she showed. His eyes seemed to find some sort of safe harbour in hers and before she could try and persuade him to do anything else, his face was buried in her chest like a small child would. - Please. 

He nodded without a word, before bowing his head back again. She pursed her lips tightly against each other and in a thin line as she stared at the nobleman in front of her. Looking at him like that, that vulnerability, made it hard to believe he was the dangerous man Eliza and Odette warned her about. She started to unbutton the shirt he was wearing, as gently as she possibly could, since every small movement seemed to make him wince and make his eyes water, although no tear was spilled as if he was used to pain. Her throat felt lumpy and sore, heart beating frantically and almost out of her chest as she pulled the shirt from his body and slid it from his arms, before throwing it to the ground out of shock. It wasn’t the wound near his ribcage that surprised her, it was something else. 

    - What happened to you? - she furrowed her brows, raising her hand to her mouth as she watched how cut and wounded his shoulder was. The cuts must have been so deep, skin must’ve been lost as there was no way regular wounds would scar the way they did. However, the most surprising thing and she guessed the reason why he wore the leather black gloves, was the lack of a regular left arm, instead a metal one replacing it.

The sudden scraping of the wooden stood across the floor woke her from her thoughts, as well as the basin full of warm water hitting the ground and spilling it everywhere as she had hit it as she stepped back. 

He sat on the bed, lips tightened, hunched over and with a pale hand running through his brown hair while he waited for her to return to reality. Yet, she couldn’t move, her mind didn’t let her as she was still in shock how someone could hurt a man in such as way. It  wasn’t until he spoke to her that she truly woke to her senses.

   - It’s my fault, really. My wife told me not to go and I still did ... Serves me well. 

   - What happened? 

   - War isn’t as poetic as poets made them be. 

tag list: @lookiamtrying @kmuir1 @anxiousdreamersworld @tinymalscoffee @navegandoaciegas @cinnabanuxoxo @sideeffectsofyou​ 

[danger-xylophones]

Someone (Satine Kryze x reader)

{masterlist}

Warnings: pining to the highest degree (reader is a total simp because I am for the duchess), unrequited love

Notes: Idk, I felt like suffering I guess. 

Words: 1170

……………………

The sun felt warm as it gently pressed against your skin. It was accompanied by the pleasant sound of the Duchess’s voice as she politely ordered her guards about. There was a new recruit amongst them that would need to become acquainted with the inner workings of the Sundari Palace and Satine had made it her business to be on a first-name basis with her guards. It was something you admired about her-she was always so compassionate and that compassion and love for her people shone through in everything she did. It was a light-she was a light. And you were supportive of her and her vision for Mandalore. You’d always support her after what she did for you by rescuing you from the Death Watch and giving you the opportunity to turn your life around. You were raised a fighter and while you’d probably die one too, it was a relief to fight for peace instead of prolonging the conflict. Satine gave you a new position as an advisor and the new governess of Concordia after the betrayal of Pre Vizsla and you strived every day to be a better leader than he had ever been. 

And it had paid off, for now, as you stood at her left, having been invited to join the Duchess on Mandalore. But, politics had to come first as the two of you were now waiting for Almec to return from whatever meeting he’d been called away to. 

“Y/n,” gods above-her calm voice danced across your ears as she spoke, “I’m afraid I don’t know how much longer Almec will be. If you wished-I would not take offense if you set about settling yourself in for the night. Darin will show you to your room.” Satine sent you a tired and apologetic smile that betrayed her embarrassment towards Almec’s tardiness as she gestured to one of her guards. 

You were quick to wave her off. “I assure you, your grace, Almec’s unusual lack of punctuality is not enough to offend me nor dissuade me from staying at your side.” Satine’s lips parted in shock as she met your gaze, crystalline blue eyes wide. Your own face quickly fell into a similar expression as you registered what you had said. “I-I mean...unless my presence in unwanted, Duchess, which-which I understand, um, your grace. I-I’m sure that-t you’ve had many stressors to d-deal with and I would not wish to be a bother.” Haar’chak. You hissed in your head. You were a governess and here you were embarrassing yourself in front of the duchess-the very duchess that had made you a governess. The apples of your cheeks burned as your gaze fell around the duchess’s jaw as you were far too embarrassed to look her in the eye. 

A small puff of air slipped from Satine’s thin lips that signified the want to laugh. You looked up at the sound and found a fond smile stretching over her face. “I assure you, Governess, your presence is far from bothersome.” Your face warmed further at the assurance from the blonde lady as a shy smile wormed its way over your lips. Carefully, your gaze fell away from her eyes to briefly flicker over her entire visage, taking in the way her navy blue dress framed and draped her with little white diamonds and sheer tulle. She looked like a piece of the night sky-plucked from the heavens themselves. Her face was like that of a moon, then, the beacon to cut away the inkiness of space while her eyes were far off galaxies alluring and elusive in their depth. She was beautiful and while you were no artist, you would wax poetic for her till it made you a fool if she’d let you. But you knew that she would not. She was far too humble to accept the compliments you wished to lavish upon her. “I don’t believe I’ve seen this dress before, your grace, is it new?” You asked with a soft tilt of your head, eager to make conversation now that she was not occupied with the guards. 

Satine smiled again, more cordial than soft as she swept her hand over the skirt of the dress to smooth out the fabric. “No, it is an older one. I haven’t worn it in a while, though.” Her other hand came up to gently fix the matching headdress that had partially slid out of place. 

“It’s beautiful-I mean, all your outfits are, you have impeccable taste but-” There you went again, stumbling through your sentence in your attempt to compliment the powerful woman beside you. You coughed into your fist as you came to a full stop. “What I mean is...it suits you, Satine. Navy really brings out your eyes.” 

“Thank you, Y/n. It is a relief to know you like it as I commissioned something similar for your birthday.” Satine explained in a softer voice, as though she was eager not to be overheard. 

“You-you did?” Your jaw fell at the news. While not one for fuss and feathers and fashion (blame Death Watch for your inability to remember the seemingly inexhaustible shades of white) you could not deny the warm feeling that spread through you at the Duchess’s care. 

“Yes,” Satine continued, straightening up on her throne, “Although at the time, I was unaware that you were more partial to a suit than a dress-I think I caught them in time to make some alterations you’ll find more agreeable.” 

“Satine, I...thank you. Your thoughtfulness never ceases to amaze me.” You smiled, the warmth growing and encompassing you like a tender hug. Satine smiled back. 

“It was the least I could do after you trusted in me enough to abandon the life you’d known, Governess.” She spoke softly and bowed her head.

“A decision that has more than spoken for itself and one that I do not regret.” You reassured, bowing your head as well. When you lifted it again, you sheepishly grinned up at the Duchess who responded by reaching over the side of her throne to lay a hand on your shoulder. 

“It makes my heart glad to hear that, my friend.” Her touch burned through the fabric of your sleeve, searing itself into your skin. It was gestures like these that gave you hope that the Duchess knew of your feelings and returned them in full. But the realistic side of you knew that she was kind to everyone. She cared about everyone. She was gentle with everyone. And you...you were just another face. Just another ally to appease. Just another politician. You were just like everyone else. 

Carefully, you raised your own hand to carefully cover hers. Yes, you were just like everyone else and it was terribly unlikely that you would ever be anything more to her. But at least she trusted you enough to call you her friend. And even if you never became anything more, at least that made you someone.

[baekberrie]

💐puppy love - bbh💐

Genre: Bestfriends!au, romance, fluff.

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

💐💐💐

And they called it puppy love Just because we're in our teens Tell them all, please tell them it isn't fair To take away my only dream

The teacher's soft voice succumbed slowly into the background of your deep thoughts as you contently watched how the cloud-like curtains fluttered with the wind coming from the open window. Clear blue, the sky was spotless, making it look even more immense than it already did, flowers' petals and trees rustled with the soft breeze, you inhaled deeply with a smile extending on your lips. It smelled like summer.

Your gaze wandered around the classroom, enjoying the warm palette in which the room was painted in as it had such a loving effect when the walls would be kissed by the sun rays. Everything seemed to be, as usual, almost everything. Without being to help it your eyes had already landed on a certain person, admiring the way that his shoulders had grown to be so steady and broad, and how they were looking from where you were watching him, admiring the unnatural silver shade that his hair was dyed into, how it shone like a million diamonds in the sun. But your favorite part was the way his delicate and milky fingers tapped absentmindedly on the desk, his back hunched over the desk as if he'd fall asleep at any moment.

Baekhyun was starting to change.

In class, everything was the same as always, while he was the one who was truly changing, the fact made your heart do a tiny but painful squeeze in your chest. You didn't know why you were feeling like that, so... so anxious about it. It was something for you completely inexplicable. Somehow you feared that Baekhyun would grow on his own and drift away from you, he was a dear friend and you'd hate to have him become someone else, someone that wasn't Baekhyun. Baekhyun was always surrounded by many people, so loved and yet, he always found time to be with you. It would be a lie if you said that it didn't make you feel reassured from your worries, but yet, a part of you was still afraid that what the two of you had would disappear.

As if he felt your stare burn on his skin, Baekhyun faced back, having his eyes meet with yours at first glance. Caught off guard, you flinched the slightest while trying your best to control the blood from reaching your cheeks. However, your efforts were to be wasted when his eyes formed into two glistening crystal moons, his lips stretching into a smile that even though you couldn't make out his reasons behind it, it shone brightly so that you for a second considered Baekhyun being an actual sun. His perfect pearl teeth showed and you feared that he would see you actually melting into your seat, leaving behind your furiously beating heart.

Flustered, you looked away, not really knowing what to name the reason to why your heart was like a sea in a storm inside of your chest. It worried you.

On the other side, you could hear Baekhyun still a laugh and in a second you had forgotten about anything you had been thinking about as you were quick to send him a scowl, but the harsh expression didn't last long on your features because the view of Baekhyun's back shaking in silent laughter delighted your heart so much that you oh so clearly could feel it swell with happiness in your chest. While you absentmindedly leaned your cheek into your palm, a sigh escaped your lips and you let your eyes fix on Baekhyun's figure once again, but this time with no intention of looking away. When your eyes met again, you could feel the waves crash violently against your ribs and yet you didn't look away, as if your gaze had been glued onto his, letting his eyes find whatever they were searching for inside of yours.

His eyes whom in the sun were like jewels but once you'd stare into them, they'd turn into deep, deep oceans with no bottom, making whoever who'd stare into them feel lost and adrift, his gaze was something to you almost dazing as it took all of your will power to look away from his treasures, almost as if his eyes alone could put you under an inescapable spell.

Just when the class felt like it would never end, the bell ringed freedom. However, Baekhyun's eyes continued staring into yours, making you stay rock still in your seat, not daring to look away from the precious view that was his orbs. His silver hair was tousled into messy, wild locks, and yet he looked as perfect as he could, with his clear skin where his cheekbones would catch the rays of the sun, highlighting so brightly his face. People were quick to gather around him, wanting to hang out with the amazing guy who was currently giving you the most affectionate stare. Teeth dug into your lips when for a second you wished that these people would disappear and let you be with him alone. Alone. As if the two of you had never shared such a long gaze, he gave you another of his radiant smiles.

That smile that within a second enlightened the whole classroom, that smile that held an incredibly joyful warmth, you didn't know what happened, but you felt a part of yourself slip like sand through the cracks of your fingers when your heart skipped a beat that felt so different from the usual, at the same time it felt as if you had been renewed, as if there were wines and roots intertwining around your heart, flowers, roses, and plants growing on its edges, ornating it with their colorful petals, filling you with their delightful essence. You blamed his pearly white smile and those plump lips, for making your eyes draw to them like magnets, it was its fault that you couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to have his lips curl into such a smile against yours. A hand that squeezed on your shoulder broke the eye contact with the boy a few seats away as you faced the person, only to be met with another rather beautiful smile and a pair of wide chocolate orbs that couldn't wait to look into yours.

"Kyungsoo, hi." Your lips curled while you pronounced his name and his beam brightened at your attention, his delicate hand slid down your arm absentmindedly before leaving you.

"Hey, I brought your notes back, thank you so much for lending them to me." The sincere words were said in his usual dark yet soft voice as he ever so gently placed the notes you took back on your desk, he bit his lips shyly as if there was something more he wanted to say, so you waited for him to gather his courage with a kind smile. Kyungsoo was always so delicate and calm and that never failed to rub off on you, in fact, you rather liked it. With his plump lips caught in his teeth, he swung slowly on the ball of his feet, occasionally looking at you from under his long lashes.

"I was wondering if you, sometime when you're free, perhaps we could go to study together?" His voice had barely been a light whisper when he finally brought himself to utter the words. You were surprised and for some reason, your heartbeat became more agitated. This was the first time a guy asked you out and for that matter, you had no idea what to say or if you ever wanted to. Kyungsoo was with no doubt an amazing and sweet person. But you could see from the rosy blush on his cheeks and the way he couldn't look at you in the eyes, that he felt something stronger in your regards than just simple friendship, you couldn't bring yourself to try and feel the same.

A nervous smile twitched on the corner of your lips while the tiniest bit of cold sweat started forming on your forehead.

"Uhm, let's see..."

As if someone had heard your silent call for help, a warm chest brushed against your back and a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders, pressing you against his side.

"Y/n! I've been looking for you, can we talk for a second?" Baekhyun's voice resounded in your ears, sending happy chills down your spine as his arm unwrapped from your body and casually held your hand instead. Kyungsoo's sweet eyes turned within a second hard and stony when his gaze fell on your holding hands, eyeing the way that Baekhyun's fingers were so lightly holding yours. Completely ignoring the fact that he had interrupted you from answering, Baekhyun gave the other guy a radiant smile: "I'm so sorry, it's really urgent." With that being said, he dragged you wordlessly outside. You gave Kyungsoo an apologizing glance from behind your shoulder, while a tiny part of you was feeling guilty for not giving a proper answer, the rest of you couldn't help but wonder why you felt so delighted by the simple skin contact with your best friend. Teeth dug hard into your peachy lips to suppress the smile that was to spread on your by now rosy, warm cheeks.

"What did he need?" Baekhyun questioned, genuine curiosity in his honey-sweet voice that you recently found yourself wanting to hear more and more, especially when he wasn't there with you. It would happen in the most un awaited moments, mostly in your sleepless nights, an intense urge to hear Baekhyun's voice- to have him tell things he wouldn't let anyone besides you know, to have him sing for you, because it was a talent of his that only you had the privilege of acknowledging. But the fact that you couldn't just have that, it pushed you into dark loneliness that would leave you with a twisting pain in your chest.

"Just brought back something I lent him," You spoke through the smile that you hadn't been able to push away, Baekhyun's brows met each other into a frown on his forehead.

"You lent him stuff?" He seemed confused, almost as if it would be strange for you to do that. You shrugged your shoulders since you didn't consider it a big thing.

"Yeah, notes I took during English class." You explained shortly, Baekhyun nodded although there was something in his expression that told you he wasn't completely satisfied with the vague answer. Hesitation made its way on his face- as if there was something that he wanted to say- though wasn't sure if he should.

"Do...Do you like him?" Baekhyun eventually murmured, your eyes widened inevitably at the unexpected question, you wondered, why had your heart skipped such a strong beat? Why was it stuttering so in your chest? Perhaps... Would it bother Baekhyun if you did like Kyungsoo? Why did the thought make butterflies flutter your heart?

Biting your lip and pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you shook your head hesitantly. "No- well- I'm, I don't know." It wasn't a lie, you knew Kyungsoo liked you and although you had established that you wouldn't try to invest yourself in him, there was no denying in the fact that you might actually like him if you were to open your heart for him. However, what really mattered at the moment was the slightly pained expression that Baekhyun hadn't been able to hide from his face.

"Oh," He trailed off, eyebrows meeting each other on his face, creasing the little spot on his forehead, and you had to curl your fingers into fists to not reach up to push your index finger to his brows and ease the tensed spot on his milky and beautiful skin. All you did was send him a soft smile, one that gave away none of the things that were rushing through your head. A smile that left nothing but curiosity and confusion, though, to Baekhyun, the little smile didn't do only that, but also set his heart on fire, a feeling that he felt greatly bothered by. He couldn't put his finger on it, but the conversation had left him absolutely upset as you left to your next class without another word. A shy yet mischevious smile on your lips.

💐💐💐

You opened the slidable door to Baekhyun's homeroom classroom, only to find it completely empty and painted by the strong yet incredibly warm colors of the sunset. It was nearing five pm and you were supposed to meet up with the said boy on your way home, however, as you well knew, he wasn't done with classes yet and waiting in the library had gotten extremely boring. Knowing that he'd be coming by his classroom before he reached you, you decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to have him find you there right away. It wasn't difficult to find Baekhyun's desk, really, the boy was known for leaving his backpack hanging on the back of his chair. As your trailing eyes fell on the desired desk you smiled to yourself, remembering how Baekhyun would sometimes be late for school and therefore not having time to stop by his lockers made him run to the classroom right away. Small giggles threatened to leave your lips as you sat down at his desk, feeling like a silly character from a shoujo manga. This wasn't supposed to make you feel this happy- so...How to explain it? Why was it that the mere thought of Baekhyun made your heart squirm? Heat gathered on your cheeks as a possible, very obvious answer, made its way to your head, but you quickly shook the idea away. It couldn't be...Or...?

Sudden clatters and noises of shoes tapping against the ground outside the classroom sent your heart almost flying out of your throat and the first thing you did was throwing your arms over the table and your head upon them, feigning sleep.  You had no idea why you had felt the need to faking sleep, why you suddenly felt embarassed. If it wasn't Baekhyun who was about to enter, it would seem rather strange and questioning if they a girl randomly blushing while sitting at a male's seat, no? Maybe it had been the direction that your thoughts had been wandering to that would have made you feel extremely embarassed if you had to meet Baekhyun's eyes after almost admitting that you liked hi-

The door slid open rather harshly and closed just as quickly. Whoever had stepped inside was breathing as if they had run all the way here and that made you press your eyes tightly shut as you tried to keep your breathing steady enough to trick whoever had entered that you were in fact sleeping. The urge to peek was unbearable, it tingled into every part of your body- into your fingertips and the tension in your body made your toes curl unknowingly inside your shoes.  The person made their way into the classroom, you were glad it was only one and not a group of people. It almost didn't occur to you how they had stopped in front of you until you finally sensed their presence. Oh God, help, please-

You had no idea whether you were doing a great job in looking asleep, but perhaps the fact that this person was supposedly inspecting you meant you were probably not as convincing as you were hoping to be. Nonetheless, you kept going because although a strong part of you wanted to see who it was, your heart was beating in a way that resembled fear therefore you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Especially not when a certain sent reached your senses, the fragrance of a familiar faded cologne of musk and berries that would usually set your heart under a calm spell- but that by now was making your already frantic heart feel as if it was about to explode inside of your chest, destroy your ribs and eventually make you disappear. Your breath was by now gone somewhere far, maybe you were crazy but you felt their presence much closer than it had been a few moments ago and the fact made you almost freak out. Little did you know who it was.

Your thoughts were by now an untamable mess that you didn't really know how to sort out, hence, you didn't even know why you were trying to in a situation like this one. But none of that mattered anymore, because your train of thoughts was suddenly crushed by the feather-light yet extremely definite soft pressure against your lips, a warm and sticky texture attaching to your lips like scotch and the warmth they emanated almost burned you. Your body was trembling crazily, cold shivers covering your body, the familiar feeling of something blooming inside of your chest numbed the frantic beating of your heart, the picture of blooming roots and growing vines intertwining around your heart flashed in front of your eyes as you felt the pressure shift the slightest- deepening a little but just as soon the pressure slowly detached from your mouth, and from your lips tumbled a huge yet quiet gasp.  You could feel how the backpack was picked from the behind of your chair- and as your eyes fluttered open- what you saw was the same broad back that you had been staring at the whole morning. The beautiful silver hair bouncing softly with ever step he took. Your heart was stuttering- Baekhyun was leaving- no, please don't leave-

"Baekhyun!" You called, standing abruptly up from your seat- the chair almost tumbled down but somehow gained its balance before it could fall. The boy turned immediately to see you standing there, perfectly awake, his eyes grew the size of two saucers and it was almost unnoticeable, but on his cheeks caressed a light hue of pink heating up his skin. His shocked expression soon morphed into something you couldn't decipher, there was fear in your chest as you strode to the opposite of where he was standing, the big window facing your back.

Tattered pants were leaving your lips. Suddenly feeling as if your breath had been taken away, and yet you found it in yourself to beg at the ethereal person in front of you; "Do it again," You murmured under your breath, barely giving in to the urge to avert your gaze. But the fear of Baekhyun leaving you behind was too heavy, seeing him there, enhanced by the shades of the sun, so beautiful, and yet so far. Could you ever stay by his side forever? He wouldn't leave you behind, would he? Why were these questions filling your head? They made no sense, Baekhyun had never even mentioned leaving you. You liked him so much it overwhelmed you, you wanted him all to yourself- how- how could you have come to feel such strong emotions?

Baekhyun's expression was completely void of any emotions as he started with slow steps coming closer to you, you didn't know what it meant that he was looking at you like that, but you didn't want to care. He was coming closer, that meant he'd stay with you, right? Once he was in front of you, his movements were so extremely slow, so frustratingly slow as he brought his hands to rest ever so lightly at the curves of your hips, pushing you gently to walk backward until your back hit the thin texture of the curtain separating you from the contact of the window, the white veil effulging both of you in its flow with the breeze. His eyes were so serious but just as always, you found yourself getting lost in the infinite ocean that they were.

You barely realized when Baekhyun's hands disappeared from your waist, only to appear on the side of your neck, his long and silky fingers reaching up to your jaw and fingertips kissing the tip of your earlobe. You shivered at the touch. Two fingers clasped gently around your chin, tilting your head up the slightest for a good angle and you found yourself gasping for breath as Baekhyun titled his own, eyes hooding sleepily over his hazel orbs the closer he came to your lips. They came crashing down on yours, making you grip tightly the material of his shirt into your fists. His lips were the softest as they captured yours in the slowest ways possible, tugging at your single lip towards him, eventually tasting it with his graceful tongue and capturing it in his mouth all over again.

Why had you tried to deny it? It was futile, your heart belonged to Baekhyun, and by the way he had claimed your lips, he knew it did too.  As you parted from the breathtaking kiss- you threw your arms around his neck and hid your face near his collarbone.

"This means you'll never leave me behind right?" You heard yourself begging, almost desperately. "You... You love me right?" You murmured hesitantly, although the kiss he had just given you should have been enough for you to know the answer to that question, but the fear inside of you was still shaking your feelings. Though, Baekhyun tightened his arms around you, bringing you closer, as if it had been possible, his lips traced the shell of your ear as he spoke:

"How could I ever?"

"How could I ever leave you behind? I like you so much I don't know what to do."

💐💐💐

It's very spontaneous, perhaps even a lil crappy one shot, but I suddenly felt like I had enough inspiration to finish this and I truly hope you like it! It's very simple and short but please don't hesitate to tell me what you think! Sorry for the weird sentences and mistakes!

All the love, P💖💕💞🌸💐

[copper-wasp]

Cor Leonis x Reader: Sun, Moon & Stars

More sweet, sweet, mature Cor lovin' for y'all :)

I kept editing this for some ungodly reason, and I'm still kind of meh about it, but here it is anyway....

Posted to AO3.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 3697

“[Y/N], someone’s here to see you,” you heard Cor’s deep voice say as you pushed a pin into another location on the map of Insomnia for the Glaives to clear.

Turning, you expected to see a scout with information or your best hunter back with supplies; instead, an older, but still instantly recognizable Prince stood in front of you. Dropping the remaining pins in your hand, you vaguely heard them hit the floor as you blinked hard, making sure he was actually there.

“Noctis?” you asked with a shaky voice, hand blindly reaching in front of you to steady yourself on the edge of the table.

He smiled softly at you, “Hi, [Y/N].”

Looking over at the Marshal, he gave you a reassuring nod before turning to leave you with the now King. Quickly making your way around the table, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a crushing embrace. Ten years since you’d seen him. Even longer since he and his friends would help you with hunts that were a little above your pay grade at the time.

He hugged you back, gently stroking your hair as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop the tears that were forming. You pulled away to get a good look at him, your hands still on his shoulders.

“Wow, kid, you grew up,” you commented with a watery voice, tugging gently on his beard.

“And you still look exactly the same, old lady,” he replied with a chuckle. You pursed your lips at his nickname for you (a ridiculous one as you were only seven years older than him).

“Ah, there’s that nickname I missed so much. I knew there was a reason I liked you,” you teased, trying to keep the mood light. If you started crying, there was no way you would be able to stop. Noctis gave you a sad smile, and you pulled him into another embrace. You couldn’t care less that you were hugging the King, he was still that twenty year old brat of a Prince whose bluntness eventually won you over. Or it could have been due to the fact that he saved you from being gored by a freakishly large spiracorn while you were out hunting together. Either way, he was your friend in addition to being your King.

Finally releasing him, you watched as his eyes trailed over your uniform. “So, you’re helping the Glaives now?” he asked, moving to brush some dust off of your shoulder.

“Mostly,” you replied, bending to pick up the pins you had dropped earlier. “The Marshal kind of took me under his wing after the sun left us. He doesn’t let me go out too often though, says I’m too valuable to lose,” you said, doing your best impression of the Immortal, rolling your eyes for extra effect.

That earned you another smile from Noctis, who agreed, saying that sounded like something Cor would say. You placed your left hand on the tabletop, leaning into it as you looked him over. Noctis’s gaze had traveled to the thin silver band on your ring finger and he looked back up at you in surprise.

“You’re married?” he asked incredulously.

You flushed, not meeting his eyes. “I, um, yes. I am.” You shifted your weight nervously, moving your hand to cover the ring with your right hand. “I may have married Cor,” you said with a grimace, flicking your eyes up to meet Noct’s.

He barked out a laugh, and you cocked your head, giving him an unimpressed look.

“You married the Marshal? You’re not serious?” He stifled his laugh when he saw the look on your face. “Oh, you are serious. You really married the Marshal?”

“Yes, Highness, I really married the Marshal,” you repeated, slowly, to make sure it stuck.

“And it was a sad day when we heard she was off the market,” Gladio said, strolling past the two of you, book in hand as usual.

“Thank you for that ego boost, Gladiolus.”

“Any time, beautiful,” he said with a wink, shrugging at Noctis’s disbelieving face as he made his way to the kitchen area.

“I thought the Marshal was only in love with his duty,” Noctis commented, swinging his head around to spot Cor speaking with Ignis a few yards away.

“Well that much is still true, but I am proud to say that I am a very close second,” you joked, grinning at him. Looking over at your husband, he caught your eye and you motioned for him to come join you. Excusing himself, he walked over to you both with his normal commanding gait.

“Something wrong?” he asked, looking between you and the King.

“His Highness here doesn’t believe we’re married,” you stated, grabbing his hand with yours. You showed the hand to Noctis, a matching silver band on Cor’s ring finger.

“It’s nearly seven years, isn’t it?” the Marshal asked you and you nodded.

“Had a hell of a time finding someone to perform the ceremony,” you commented, looking into your husband’s gorgeous eyes. There were a few more age lines around them compared to when you first met, but they still burned with an intensity that you fell in love with over and over again.

Cor reached up to place his hand gently on your cheek before leaning in to capture your lips with his. It was a chaste kiss, but every time your lips met, you still got a rush of heat throughout your body, like he was kissing you with fire, his mouth always able to warm you up, even if you were chilled to the bone.

“Okay, okay, I believe you. Keep your tongues in your mouths,” Noctis said playfully as you pulled away from Cor’s kiss. He pulled you close to him, placing one more gentle kiss on your temple, his silvery-brown beard scratching against your cheek.

“If my wife is finished with you, I do have something to discuss with you, Highness,” Cor said, looking between the two of you.

“Yes, dear, you can steal him away. I’ve got others to catch up with,” you replied, as Cor raised your hand to his mouth, gently kissing the back of it.

You sighed as you watched the two of them go, unable to stop a creeping sadness from filtering into your brain. Luckily, a blonde ball of happiness trotted over to you, ready to talk your ear off. If anyone could raise your spirits, it was Prompto.

~~~~~

Because no good deed goes unpunished, the King and his retinue were roped into various favors, leaving you little time with your old friends.

The Marshal decided to join them in destroying the remaining Imperial bases blighting the Crown City, and you spend the hours he’s gone on edge, anxiously waiting for his return. Though he is the most capable soldier you have ever known, the thought of losing your husband, when you had so little to begin with, was terrifying. Your relief when they returned entirely unscathed was palpable, and you refused to let Cor out of your sight for the rest of the day.

You were slogging through cataloguing a box of supplies later that evening, when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. Expecting to see a Glaive, you were pleasantly surprised to find Noctis instead.

“Highness,” you said in greeting, setting down your pen and paper. “Did you need something? Or did you just want to see my pretty face again?” you joked, motioning for him to sit at an empty chair across from you.

Noctis smiled at you, taking the proffered seat and immediately resting his head in his hands.

“Long day, huh?” you asked, looking at him solemnly.

“Yeah, something like that,” he replied, fixing you with a stare. You knew that look; it was the one he used to give you when there was a niggling question he wanted to ask, but was unsure of how to bring it up.

“Out with it, Noct.”

“Huh?”

You pursed your lips at him, raising an eyebrow. He sighed, leaning back in the chair. “Just ask whatever it is you want to ask; let me guess, how did the Marshal and I end up married? Or is it how I managed to survive all this time considering I used to practically have a death wish? Or maybe it’s-“

“Have you ever thought of having a family?” he interrupted, meeting your eyes again with a solemn gaze. Your mouth was still open mid-sentence, his question not being at all what you had expected.

“A family? Well, yeah, I guess I have,” you replied, hands fidgeting in your lap. “But a world without a sun is not exactly the best place to have one.... And Cor and I, well, we aren’t exactly of a prime parenting age anymore....” You trailed off, looking at your shoes, wondering where this was coming from.

“I was terrified to marry Luna,” Noctis began, “I knew what was expected of me, but I spent my entire life doing the exact opposite of just that, and it was hard to rationalize that I couldn’t be selfish this time, not when there was another person involved. I was finally coming around, even making plans in my head of what our lives would be when we were together, and it all ended in a second.”

You could hear the rawness in his voice, and you tried desperately to keep your composure. You scooted your chair over to him, placing your hand on top of his on his leg.

“Her sacrifice brought me here, so I could finish this,” he said, looking back up at you. “When I end the scourge, I hope you’ll consider having what I couldn’t.”

You furrowed your brows at him as he squeezed your hand in his. “There’s something you aren’t telling me, isn’t there?”

He refused to meet your eyes, just letting his thumb slide over your knuckles as you sat in silence. The creeping sadness was back, unease building in your chest and you swallowed hard, Noctis’s unsaid words coming to be realized in your head. You wanted to say something but you couldn’t, voice failing to work.

He closed his eyes for a long moment; a small smile formed on his lips when he opened them again. “I could demand that you have a baby, if you’d prefer?”

Wiping an errant tear from the corner of your eye, you playfully punched his shoulder before leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Giving me orders now, huh?” you croaked, forcing your vocal cords to flex. “You should know that doesn’t work on me, King or not.”

He chuckled, grabbing both of your hands in his once again. Your thumb brushed over the ring he wore, and he tensed. You squeezed his hands reassuringly and he met your eyes, but it seemed like he was looking through you.

With a final, wistful look, he stood, straightening his clothes and taking his leave. You watched him until his still unruly head of coal-colored hair disappeared around a corner.

~~~~~

There were some benefits to being married to Cor Leonis, one of them being that you and he had a small private room at the base, tucked into a corner away from the main area. A former storage room, it was tiny, but with enough space for a bed to fit the both of you and a trunk to hold your clothing.

Your brief conversation with Noctis was weighing on you. The thought of children, of a proper family, well, it seemed like a pipe dream; the Marshal and your fellow Glaives were the only family you had, but they were the family you chose, and you were happy with that. Now His Highness had pushed that earwig of a thought deep into your brain, and you couldn’t help but imagine a surly little boy with steel blue eyes and your narrow chin, or an adventurous girl who looked exactly like you with the exception of having her father’s nose. You saw them playing outside in the sun, freckles darkening on their shoulders and cheeks, their knees and palms covered in scrapes.

“Cor?” you asked, turning into your side to look at him. He was on his back, an arm thrown over his eyes. He quickly dropped it back down to his side and turned his head to look at you.

“Yes, darling?” he answered, arching his back to relieve some tension.

“I think our King ordered me to have a baby with you,” you said softly, eyes flicking up to meet his.

“Is that so?” he replied, not bothering to hide his amusement. You nodded, scooting over to rest your head on his bare chest. Your fingers moved to trace slow arabesques over his pectorals and abdomen, and you tilted your chin to kiss him softly on his jaw. He wrapped an arm around you, rubbing along your back soothingly.

“I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it,” Cor said, and you made a little noise in disbelief, your eyes widening. You were about to reply, but he plowed right along, surprising you even more. “But I think that my time to be a father has passed.”

It was true that Cor was not the youngest man anymore, but his mind was still sharp, and his body looked the same as it did ten years ago, all lean, defined muscle that made you nearly drool. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe that this stunning man was your husband, that he had chosen you of all people, a brash and quite often reckless hunter. You dipped your hand down past his navel, feeling him tense as your fingertips skimmed over the waistband of his pants.

He sighed contentedly, pulling you closer to him, and you hooked one of your legs over his, rut hung up his pant leg to touch his skin.

“I understand why you’d say that, but now, entirely the fault of Noctis, I’m thinking that maybe it’s not too late.... I love you, Cor, and I think you would be a wonderful hard-ass of a father to our poor, unfortunate child,” you joked, nuzzling into his neck.

He chuckled, tilting your chin up to give you a languid kiss on the lips, his hands moving to slide under the hem of your shirt. You made a satisfied noise against his lips, enjoying the warmth from his fingertips as they traced over you skin. He raised your shirt up past your shoulder blades, and you shifted to let him pull it over your head. Cor moved your body on top of his with little effort, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss.

“I love you too, [Y/N],” he mumbled against your lips once you broke apart. “You would most definitely be the fun parent.”

You smiled at him, cupping his face in your hands. Cor was weathered and worn, his skin marred with scar tissue, evidence of the long, hard life he’s lived. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, even so long ago when you were a naive twenty something killing beasts for sport, punishing your body purely for the thrill.

The first time you had kissed, terrified and exhausted after a daemon ambush on a supply run, he made you feel whole, like he was your own personal sun, full of warmth and light. He had quickly pulled away from you, mumbling a stuttering apology against your lips, but you grasped his shoulders and pressed your needy mouth to his, already desperately craving more of his kiss.

Speaking of kisses, Cor was currently working a line of them down your neck, sucking a bruise onto the sensitive skin at the junction of your shoulder and soothing it over with his tongue. You felt his cock harden against your thigh, palms slipping beneath the fabric of your shorts to squeeze your rear.

You made a pleasured noise at the contact, grinding your body down on top of him, earning you a soft groan, music to your ears. You rolled off the Marshal to remove the last of his and your clothing, taking a long, greedy gaze at his naked form, his flushed length standing proudly before you, just begging to be ridden.

You moved to straddle him again, letting your ass rub delightfully against his cock, your slick spreading over his stomach. He reached up to massage at your breasts, teasing your nipples into pebbling, rolling and tugging them between his thumb and forefinger.

You looked down at him, a flush high on his cheeks, already breathing heavy through parted lips.

You smirked, rubbing your sex against him. “Are you gonna put a baby in me, Marshal? Gonna follow your King’s orders?” you asked as his hand trailed down your stomach to part your folds, finding your clit with a practiced ease. His thumb rubbing fierce circles against you, you moaned, trying to stifle it by pressing your closed fist against your mouth. Your room was by no means soundproof, and you didn’t want to confirm what the Glaives already speculated that you were doing at the moment.

“Why don’t you let me inside you and find out?” he rasped, trying to urge you to raise your hips.

“So impatient, my love,” you replied, followed with a lusty moan as he continued his assault on your pearl. “But I suppose I’ll be kind and give you what you want.” You leaned down to capture his lips, teasing his tongue with yours. Sitting back up, you grasped his length, smearing his precum over the head as you lined him up with your wet, welcoming entrance.

Twin moans of pleasure sounded in the room as you seated yourself on him, taking his entire length in one fell swoop. Cor let his eyes close, his hands moving to squeeze the supple flesh of your hips as you rested your palms on his chest.

You started to move, slowly rocking your hips on top of him, focusing on the slide of his cock against your walls as he filled you completely. He thrusted to match the movements of your hips, making you speed up whether you wanted to or not. You moaned out his name, squeezing your thighs around him, sounds of your coupling a gentle white noise.

“I will never get tired of this view,” Cor said with a grin, his eyes glued to where you were joined, flicking up occasionally to meet yours.

“Think you could... nngh... touch while you look?” you asked, panting, feeling your husband thrust up into you hard, continuing to match your rhythm with ease. He had seven plus years of practice, after all.

He licked his lips, trailing his hand torturously slowly back over to your bud, thumb barely even ghosting over the bundle of nerves. He flicked his eyes up to meet yours, irises practically swimming with joy as he teased you.

“Cor,” you whined, scratching down his chest. “You’re such a tease....”

He cocked his head, giving you a smirk. Touching where you were joined, he gathered some of your slick on his thumb, at last pressing it against your swollen bundle of nerves. Cor resumed his earlier ministrations and you stifled a powerful moan, spewing out curses under your breath instead, pleasure erupting at your center, the dual stimulation from his cock and thumb driving you closer and closer to your climax.

A hard thrust and a perfect circle to your clit and you came hard, clenching around him, biting your lip painfully to keep from making too much noise. You fell forward onto his chest, felling him press a gentle kiss to your forehead as your climax slowly ebbed away. He rolled you onto your side, hooking your leg over his hip as he continued to drive into you, his movements giving you little pleasurable aftershocks from your orgasm.

Cor pulled your body flush to his, kissing you desperately. He mumbled sweet words against your lips, his hands coming to rest on your lower back, angling your body so he could thrust even deeper into you. He was close, his breathing ragged and eyes closed, his brows furrowing with every other thrust.

“I love you,” you whispered, kissing down his jaw, feeling his hands press tighter against you as he climaxed. With uncoordinated thrusts, Cor emptied himself into you, the feeling of his seed filling you up absolutely sublime, considering it had been years since you ran out of condoms, and you always found yourself either wearing or swallowing his release.

Placing your hands on either side of his neck, you peppered his face with soft, sweet kisses, delighting in the feeling of his stubbly facial hair on your skin. He gently pulled out of your sensitive cunt, moving your tired leg off of his hip with a caress. He shifted to his back again, pulling you with him, strong arms holding you tightly in his grasp, as if you’d float away if he let go.

You smiled against his chest where your head was laying, listening to his rapid heartbeat slowly return to normal. You scratched at his scalp lazily with one hand, knowing he loved it, and he let out a long breath, tilting his head against your fingers.

Breathing deeply, you let your eyes close, sleepy and sated, squeezing your arm around Cor’s waist. “Goodnight, Cor,” you said softly, snuggling as close to him as you could.

“Sleep well, my love,” he replied with a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

~~~~~

It took a few practice sessions, but exactly ten months, twelve days, and four hours after the Chosen King of Lucis sacrificed himself to restore the sun, you welcomed a healthy boy into the new world. He was just as surly as you imagined, bright blue eyes, dark hair, an absolute spitting image of his father.

Your son had three very enthusiastic godfathers who argued over who got to hold him first.

It took less than a minute for you and Cor to decide what to call him.

You named him Noctis.

Thank you for reading!!

Find me on:

AO3: copper_wasp

Twitter: copper_wasp_

I take requests!

[jurassicjimin]

Silver Spoon | Kim Seokjin

{gif cred}

Pairing: Jin&Reader

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: You’ve known that Jin was the one you were supposed to marry for as long as you could remember. Always opposed to the idea, you now realize the dynamic of your relationship may change. Part 1.

Birds were chirping contently while resting on the branches of the big blooming tree outside of your bedroom, surely talking to each other in their own little language and enjoying the beauty of the morning that Mother Nature had provided the town with that day as much as yourself; sunrays creeping through the glass of the big picture window and giving your Victorian style bedroom an ethereal ambiance while you played quietly by yourself.

The porcelain of your outrageously expensive tea set clinking delicately as you placed the teapot with which you’d just poured imaginary tea into a cup down, pretending to blow on the hot beverage so you wouldn’t burn your tongue and sipping air like you were having the most delicious English tea your maids could’ve possibly brought you.

Your eyes roamed around the room as you smiled while bringing your small hand up to your lips, having a bit of your also imaginary cucumber sandwich, stopping at every invaluable piece of your doll collection, the variously colored fabric pieces hanging from your walls and bed, the patterns on the carpets that the house staff made sure remained spotless and the sun in the horizon against the turquoise shade of the sky; not a single cloud in sight when a knock on the door startled you.

“Darling?” The voice of your mother came from the other side of the white and gold door of your bedroom “Are you there?”

“Yes mommy!” You replied, standing up swiftly before tidying up the obnoxious wrinkles on your invaluable dress and straightening your back, just like you’d been taught since you could learn how to walk, smiling your brightest smile and waiting “Come in!”

Your mom’s eyes met you with a glimmer in them that you, at such a young age couldn’t quite figure out; after all, in your mind your mother was always the glowing embodiment of perfection, and as she walked into your room you noticed she was not alone, your smile disappearing briefly to be replaced with a tilted head and a slight frown.

“Now darling, don’t do that face for too long or you’re gonna get wrinkles by the time you’re fifteen!” She half joked, approaching you; she ran a finger through your delicate infantile features and standing behind you with her hands placed on your shoulders, she looked back at the guests she’d brought along “I want to introduce you to someone.”

And even though the frown wasn’t there anymore you were still beyond confused as to what your own father, another man and a boy about your age would walk in on a lady’s dormitory in the middle of the day for.

“Hello princess!” Your father greeted you as well, followed by his -you assumed- friend and the young kid looking as lost about the situation as you were “This is my friend Seokjin, and this is his son Seokjin.”

There it was, the frown again, did you just hear what you thought you’d heard?

“Why are you both named Seokjin?” Was the first thing to come out of your mouth and your mother shook you slightly with discretion, but many years of manner training had taught you that she probably wanted to do something a bit harsher than that in response to the way you were behaving.

The boy nonetheless smiled as proud and widely as his small mouth allowed him.

“My name’s Kim Seokjin IV.” He pointed at his own chest and you noticed his little chocolate eyes sparkle like he’d just done a great deed.

“And I’m Kim Seokjin III. This is my little boy and heir, apple of my eye.” He looked away from you as the last words came out of his mouth and his eyes met your fathers, dedicating him a wink.

“He’s come to play with you, y/n! Why don’t you say hello to him like nice little girls are meant to?” Your mother requested, but despite your short-lived life, you were smart enough to know she wasn’t giving you an option.

“Hello Seokjin” You said finally, directing your attention towards the less intimidating boy your own age and dedicating him a curtsey, surely making your mother proud of her only daughter “It’s nice to meet you.” You finished and he simply waved at you with his little hand, a different smile appearing in his face now, and you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes turned into little crescents as he did so.

“We’re gonna leave you now so you guys can get to know each other, alright?” Your father said, sharing a knowing look with Kim Seokjin senior and leaving the room, immediately followed by your mother who closed the door behind her after giving you a reassuring smile.

Why were you left alone in your room with a boy you’d never met?

“So what do you wanna play?” You broke the silence politely after noticing he was just as confused as you in that situation. He shrugged exaggeratedly and licked his lips before speaking.

“What were you doing before we arrived?” He questioned, slowly walking towards you but inspecting the belongings in your bedroom rather than meeting your gaze.

He was weird.

“I was having my morning tea!” You explained excitedly and gestured at the tea set behind you “Although it’s probably cold by now…” You reflected sadly “But you can still join me if you’d like.”

“That’s alright I guess.” He dedicated you a forced smile, clearly not convinced and sat down on the small chair across from you.

“Here’s some.” You placed a small cup on the plate in front of him and gently tilted the teapot over the item, pouring a steaming liquid that wasn’t actually there “It’s really good.”

He looked at you and then at the empty cup on the table, then back at you and his brows furrowed deeply.

“There’s nothing there.” He lifted the cup for you to see and turned it over, showing you how in fact there was no content filling it. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you.

“I know silly, I don’t actually enjoy the taste of tea.” You explained pompously, sitting up as straight as your short spine allowed you, with your legs crossed underneath the table and your hands resting on your knees, chin high and smile bright. Like a lady “But I do enjoy the tea parties.”

“Oh… Alright.” He simply replied and then went quiet once again as you brought your own cup to your lips.

“So, what brings you here today Kim?” You questioned like you’d heard important women do in the TV as you watched him fiddle with the plate, obviously not having the greatest  of times. He shrugged again.

“My name is Seokjin.” He corrected politely.

“But your dad said your name was Kim Seokjin.” You retorted, confused.

“That’s my last name.”

“But then, why didn’t he say Seokjin Kim?” The interrogation continued further.

“Because…that’s just how it is where I come from.” He shrugged theatrically.

“Okay, anyway…” You moved on, tempted to ask where exactly he was from but not wanting the conversation to get off track “Why are you here today?”

“I don’t know. My nanny woke me up super early today and got me dressed up to come here.” He clarified for you “It was a really long boring ride.”

“I like that you’re here. I don’t normally have people to drink tea with.” You looked down at the lace of your gloves and remained quiet for a few seconds.

“Thank you.” He replied, sounding sincere and you were thankful he didn’t ask more questions “I like your ribbon.” He complimented and your hand shot up to touch it instinctively.

“Thank you!” You repeated gratefully “It’s actually my favorite.” A smile crept up your lips and he returned it, those half-moons appearing once more when he smiled at you sweetly.

“Can I tell you something?” He stopped smiling and his mood changed, suddenly he seemed a bit insecure. You nodded and he got up from his tiny chair and moved it closer to you, sitting back down, and from that short distance you could finally appreciate the specks of honey in his eyes and the curtains of shiny raven hair that framed his round childish face “We’re getting married.” He said suddenly and you were taken aback for a moment before giggling light-heartedly.

“What?” You asked “That’s silly! I’m only seven years old!” You tried to explain.

“Well I’m nine. But I still don’t think that’s old enough to get married.” He responded and sounded absolutely convinced “That’s just what I heard your father and my father talking about. I don’t know why, but we are.”

“You mean like right now?” Your heart skipped a beat when the thought of you not being properly dressed for the occasion popped into your mind.

“Maybe? Who knows? Adults are weird like that sometimes.” He shrugged yet again “Do you wanna get married with me?” He asked.

“I don’t know you…” You clarified and he looked at you strangely “I don’t really understand what getting married is but I’m sure you don’t do it with strangers? Like, in my mind and in movies people get married when they’re in love…”

“So you’re not in love with me.” He crossed his arms, suddenly defensive.

“Of course not! I’m in love with Chad Michael Murray! He’s the man I’m gonna marry.” You looked him in the eye like it was an obvious thing to know.

“Who the hell is that?” He questioned with a disgusted tone.

“What do you mean who the hell is that? He’s only the hottest man in the planet and the love of my life.” You rolled your eyes.

“So you only like him because he’s hot? I can be… hot! If I was hot would you marry me?” He inquired and you suddenly didn’t know what to reply. And a lady was never caught with her guard down so you recomposed yourself, reassumed your perfect posture and replied.

“If you’re ever as hot as Chad Michael Murray, I will definitely marry you.” Smiling knowingly when he seemed content with your answer, you knew you’d won because no one would ever be as hot as Chad Michael Murray.

Ever.

  “This is fucking ridiculous.” Your mouth dropped in disbelief and you damned yourself for how your sentence came out as squeaky and whiny as it did. But honestly, who the hell gave a fuck how much of a sixteen year old you sounded while having an argument with your mother about boys.

“Hey, young lady! Language!” She scolded, her voice a bit higher than yours and muffling whatever snarky, sarcastic reply you were about to throw her way “This isn’t up for discussion. The answer is no, just as it was six months ago.”

“But why?! Why is it that every girl my age is going out, having fun with their friends and going on dates with really cute guys and I can’t just because I’m supposedly getting married to a guy I haven’t seen in years?!” You continued the discussion nevertheless, noticing how the always composed façade of your mother was crumbling down momentarily when she probably wanted to shake you until your brain was numb enough for you to stop arguing with her.

“This isn’t just about that, dear.” Your father entered the room, finally exiting his office after hours and hours of being locked in there making phone calls and delegating tasks for the more inferior people to do “It’s about you needing to be a more decorous person when it comes to how the people see you. Sneaking out of the house with those scandalous clothes to meet with a boy behind our backs, without our permission can be looked down upon and really affect the image of this family!” He explained like you were supposed to give a shit about the words coming out of his mouth.

If there was anyone in that household that knew how to win an argument without even messing up their perfectly slicked back hair, that was your father.

You, on the other hand were way more passionate and aggressive about many things; but if you’d learned something growing up inside that crystal cage of a mansion, was that you would never get through to him by being loud and pushy. So you took a deep breath, closed your eyes and counted to ten before looking back at him with a clearly false smile while you noticed from the corner of your eye how your mother sat down and started rubbing her temples.

“Look, father. I don’t see the point of sending me to the most prestigious school in this damn country, with all the wealthy pompous sons and daughters of the most important people, only to not allow me to date any of them because you think they’re not good enough for me like little Kim Seokjin IV is.” You tried reasoning.

“No one will ever be good enough for you darling!” He let out in a joyful tone, and rather than being touched by the comment, you almost gagged; because in his sexist little mind he really thought you gave a damn about his approval “And please, stop cursing like a trucker, would you?” He said and looked at your mother “Sometimes I think we wasted a lot of money on those etiquette lessons for nothing.” He winked at her.

“Of course it’s always about money with you people…” You fired back with a grunt “To you I’m just a cow waiting to be impregnated with a son who will inherit everything from this stupid family to carry their stupid family name and take over the stupid family company because that’s all women are good enough for.”

They didn’t even deny it. They just rolled their eyes after looking at each other, probably wondering where they went wrong in the way you were brought up to get such wild liberal ideas.

Somewhere along the way, around the time you were 12 or 13 years old, in a stage you called “When The Blindfold Came Off” you started questioning everything that surrounded you and involved your lifestyle. Maybe it was the new revolting hormones, maybe it was that you were sick and tired of being treated like nothing but a thing to be paraded off at every dinner party without no one actually having any expectations for you as an independent individual; but you came to a point where having the most expensive cars, toys, dresses, and pretty much everything else wasn’t satisfying. And looking back at the person you used to be, you were disgusted at yourself for ever being so shallow and superficial.

Another part of you wanted to be forgiving with your past version, nonetheless; because you were young and didn’t know any better. You’d been programmed to think that way. But luckily you’d grown up to be a more socially aware, responsible woman and independent thinker, much to your parents regret.

Suddenly a magazine was thrown over the table and you were startled when your train of thought was haltered. You looked down and met the cover of one of those stupid gossip magazines that got paid to make shit up about ‘famous’ people and who got money off ignorant pricks who loved to consume their bullshit product just because their own lives were too boring and miserable to focus on them.

“What is this?” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow defiantly.

“That’s you.” Your mother, who was the one who’d apparently placed the magazine before you, pointing your own yelling face in the picture with her perfectly manicured finger “You’re in the cover for heaven’s sake!”

“Isn’t that flattering.” You smiled sarcastically at both of them and received nothing but disapprobatory looks.

“No it isn’t!” She sounded in hysterics “You were photographed, again, at another protest screaming like a bloody psychopath against the companies of one of your father’s friends!”

“It’s not my fault they don’t give a damn about the fact that if they keep destroying forests like they are now, our grandchildren will have to move to freaking space because there won’t be any air left to breathe.” You crossed your arms stubbornly again and she sighed in defeat, shooting a pleading look at the man in the room.

“We love that you are…passionate about stuff, princess.” Your father spoke in a soft voice and sat down along with you and your mother with a glass of whisky in his hand. You hadn’t noticed until then the wrinkles in his designer shirt or the dark circles under his ever-growingly tired eyes. Maybe if you weren’t so mad at him right now you would be worried and everything for how he worked so many long hours nonstop “But keep in mind that those people could take interest in investing in shares of my company in the future and if they stop to think that my own daughter is trying to boycott theirs, they might think twice before doing so.”

Well, maybe he was right about that. But that’s only because he was analyzing the situation from his side of the story; of course he wouldn’t care about the environment or future generations as long as he had so much money he couldn’t spend it in two or three lifetimes.

But you knew that argument was going to get you nowhere.

“Just… stop sending your bodyguards to follow me. It’s not okay, I’m sixteen! I need some damn privacy.” You stated finally getting up ready to leave the room, knowing the lack of answer from your parental figures only meant they would wipe their asses with whatever request regarding your own life you had, because they would do whatever they wanted anyways.

  The dim lights hanging from the various chandeliers on the ceiling gave the area of the ball room in your house – because yes, every wealthy family who respected themselves had a ball room in their mansions obviously – an almost fairytale-like feeling that, along with the music coming from the string quartet playing in the back corner, almost made you picture the main character from an 19th century film dancing to the soft music along with the people surrounding her wearing their most elegant attires for the occasion, hand in hand with the love interest; the prince charming that came to the picture to sweep her off her feet and save her from having to be an independent woman ever again in her life.

Ugh. Your past self would’ve loved that scene.

Your present self nonetheless, had to stop herself from gagging every time you analyzed what was going on at that moment right before your eyes. The way your parents used your own birthday as an excuse to invite whatever possible investor they managed to have come over, and every person with an ostentatious name who had an account almost as fat and juicy as the one in the bank with your family name in it, in the name of “a homage” to your 21st year on Earth. All these people gathered up in your not-so-humble abode pretending to enjoy each other’s company when in reality they were just waiting for the other person to turn around before they started criticizing what they were wearing or who they showed up with.

Hypocrites.

“Smile darling…” Your mother whispered through her teeth as you both stood in the middle of the room, greeting every guest with a smile so wide your jaw felt numb after a mere couple of minutes; a few seconds later, she bowed politely to the short chubby man with silver hair who’d just approached the two of you with a woman young enough to be her great-granddaughter in his arm “Good evening Mr. Valentine” She greeted and he wheezed out what you supposed was a laugh.

“Look at you two!” He screamed unnecessarily, opening his arms, letting go of his ‘date’ and embracing you tightly, having the hardest time of your life hiding the disgust in your features over this man pressing his ancient body against yours, whom you’d never met before  “Don’t you look good enough to eat.” Just when you thought he couldn’t get any creepier.

“Thank you for coming over tonight.” Your mother caught his attention and you shot her a thankful look because he then let go of you “We really appreciate it.”

“Oh I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” He said, taking the girl in front of you’s hand and dragging her away just like that.

“What a delightful man!” You spat sarcastically and she simply rolled her eyes, used to your attitude.

“He’s one of your father’s biggest investors. In fact, most of these people are so, just for tonight, try to be polite.” She pleaded, knowing how dealing with your stubborn self could be quite a challenge.

“Why mother? Why is it that in my 21st birthday I need to do whatever everyone else expects from me and not what I wanna do?” You replied seriously, the zipper on the back of your tight-fitting gown probably leaving you a permanent mark when you took a deep breath and sighed “All I wanted was pizza and cake to share with my friends. And you couldn’t even do that for me.”

“You’re a grown up now, you should understand your duties as the daughter of one of the most important men in this country.” She retorted less and less pleased with every single word coming out of your mouth, patience wearing thin.

“Exactly. I’m a grown up. I shouldn’t have to beg for you guys to do what I want to do for once in my life like a little girl anymore!” Another old couple walked past the two of you and you were forced to smile politely; they weren’t at fault of whatever family drama was going on. As soon as they moved on, nonetheless, you continued “I’m not being bratty. I just wanna be heard and respected.” You explained, and deep down you knew as a woman herself she understood. But as a mother, she would like you to shut up and do what she wanted for as long as possible; forever even.

When she simply turned around and kept on greeting the guests that walked by, you knew the conversation was over. Twenty one years of dealing with the same bullshit should’ve prepared you for moments like that. But somehow you still got your hopes up that your words would be heard at some point, only to have those hopes crush back into the ground.

You looked down and bit your lip to stop it from quivering, feeling a wave of burning frustration tears coming and fighting them away as hard as possible. You had no plans of crying on your own goddamn birthday.

Sniffing quietly and lifting up your chin like you’d been taught over a decade ago, you looked to the crowd in front of you, only to meet something that caught your eye and stood over all of the other things surrounding you right then.

A broad back was turned to you, a mane of black hair, smooth as silk, slicked back perfectly for the special occasion; hands in pockets which allowed you to catch a glimpse of an obviously very expensive watch wrapped around his wrist and a pair of shoes so shiny they could’ve blinded an animal in the middle of the road. He said something to the small group of people he was talking to, and they all seemed to find it hilarious, his own ridiculously wide shoulders moving up and down slightly from the aftermath of his own apparent joke, and a big man around your father’s age patting on his back as if congratulating him for being such an enchanting person.

“Mom…?” You elbowed her side slightly and she turned to meet your eye with a strange look “Who’s that?” You pointed to the man in front of you who had no idea you were even admiring him as intently as you were, and she grabbed your index finger to pull it back down.

“Do not point like that, it’s not polite!” She scolded ferociously and you rolled your eyes for the millionth time that night.

“Mother, just grant me this one wish, okay? Just tonight, for my birthday. Just answer one question without telling me how much of a disappointment I am to you because I already know.” You stated and deep down, when she didn’t deny your words, it hurt. But you tried your best not to show it.

“That’s Seokjin, dear.” She simply answered, nodding her head to gesture to look back in the direction where you’d seen him before.

“Seokjin?” You replied, the last bit of the word coming out an octave too high as you couldn’t quite believe her. “Seokjin. The scrawny little kid who was three inches shorter than me the last time I saw him.”

“Yes, dear.” She repeated with gritted teeth as she kept gesturing her head towards him, but you just ignored her, even though such behavior wasn’t common of your usually composed mother.

“Wow. He grew up fine.” Bra-vo puberty. Your brows shot up and you glanced a waiter walking behind you, stopping him to steal a flute of champagne from him and downing it as soon as it touched your lips.

“Who did?” A peculiar voice came from behind you and you turned around so fast, the sparkling liquid still in your throat, that you couldn’t help but choke at the sight of those coffee-colored eyes in a distance way shorter than you’d thought you’d see them, coughing like a dying dog in front of the most gorgeous man you’d witnessed in your life. “Woah, are you okay?” His hand flew to your back and started rubbing soothing circles as your own landed on your chest, trying to return your breathing back to its normal pace; which was resulting a bit complicated considering your heart was racing from the warm feeling of his palm against the naked skin of your shoulder “Better now?” He asked again politely and you only managed to nod with watery eyes, still not calm enough to answer and catching your mother with narrowed eyes.

She was warning you before, that he was heading your way and you hadn’t paid attention to her. You knew one day that would come back to bite you in the ass.

If only he was the one biting your ass…

“Wait what?” You spoke out loud before you could stop yourself.

“What?” He giggled, pillowy lips stretching to reveal a perfect line of pearl-like teeth, eyeing you up and down as he did, probably thinking you’d lost your mind.

“Honey, you do remember Kim Seokjin right?” Your mother chimed in to save the day again with her outstanding social skills, placing her feminine hand on his shoulder and earning a dashing smile from him.

The half-moons… You certainly remembered those.

“Yes mother.” You fixed your posture and not too sure what to do, held your hand up for him to shake like you were a business man closing a deal. Your mother was almost having a stroke after that with one of her eyelids twitching and everything. As much as her botox-filled features, allowed her, that is.

Seokjin giggled yet again and held yours with both his hands, bringing it up to his lips and almost making you weak in the knees. God bless the long ass gown you were wearing for not letting anyone know how they buckled “Nice to see you again, Seokjin.” You finished with a nod of your head and he smiled again, but this time for you only.

“Absolutely! I wouldn’t miss my fiancé’s birthday for the world!” He joked, at least you thought so, since no one said anything and he leaned in to speak in your ear over the mumbling of the crowd, his hot breath hitting your earlobe and neck caused yet another shiver to run up your spine “Are you having a good time?” He asked and then moved his face ever so slowly to meet your gaze.

If you’d had those eyes, the color of coffee in a chilly winter morning, looking at you like that before, you would probably be a married woman already. The nearly-there golden spots in his irises immediately brought to your mind a flashback of him moving a small chair closer to you and informing you that you two were bound to get married, and out of nowhere you felt your cheeks heat up.

He waited patiently for your answer, looking down at you with a strange look in his features; and in the middle of the daze you found yourself in, product of the nearness of him and that intoxicating manly fragrance that was filling up your senses, you looked up at your mother, noticing she was speaking with whom you supposed was Seokjin’s father considering the physical similarities, and looked back at him, your faces a little too close for what would be normal human interaction and shook your head slightly with a shy smile, the earrings on your earlobe dangling with the motion as you were lucky enough to witness that hypnotizing smile from up close.

He chuckled and looked away playfully.

“The party isn’t as wild as you’d expected?” He tilted his head like the little boy you had engraved in your memories and raised a dark eyebrow.

“You could say that.” You rolled your eyes and looked away as well, mainly because if you kept staring at him directly for too long you thought you might’ve passed out. Looking at him was like looking directly at the moon for a little too long. You wouldn’t think it’d be dangerous, but before you realized, it your eyes would be blinded from the bright light he irradiated.

“And…what did you have in mind, Princess?” He questioned, his hands placed in his pockets casually as he nodded to a middle-aged man that had caught his eye, not actually catching your ridiculous reaction to the nickname he’d given you.

“Getting drunk, passing out, getting laid, eating ‘till I puked. Not exactly in that order.” You shot back, getting your normal self who’d momentarily disappeared ready and set to flirt with him as much as you could.

“Well… I might be able to help with a couple of those, if you’re interested.” He shrugged nonchalantly and brushed away a whatever that wasn’t really on your shoulder, goosebumps forming up your skin and making you tremble. He noticed, and you knew, from the cocky smirk in his pink lips and the cheeky wink he’d dedicated you.

You also knew he was perfectly aware of the effect he was causing on you and he was enjoying, watching you crumble in front of him like a school girl with his attentions.

“I’m definitely interested.” You nodded and he wasted no time resting his hand on your lower back and very discretely pulling you out of your own birthday party.

You hadn’t seen this man in years, but something deep down told you he was someone you could trust and who would be your savior for the night. Whether it was his ridiculously good looks or the fact that he was your only hope of actually having a decent time for once in your birthday.

He grabbed your hand in his delicately and guided you, making you feel like a little girl and for once actually not hating the feeling, heading towards the back of the castle-sized place you lived in where all of the guests’ cars had been parked by the valet at the front door.

If you were any other regular person, you would’ve been gobsmacked at the amount of shiny, clearly new, imported cars lined up together, one after the other, ranging from wild colors like red and yellow, to more regular ones like silver and black. You followed quietly, watching your step to make sure you didn’t twist your ankle with the heels on the gravel and before you could stop your tracks, a beeping sound accompanied by the flashing of two bright headlights startled you.

“Oh my god!” You sighed out, your heart beating at a dangerous pace again “That scared the living shit out of me!” An urge to punch his arm overcame you, but you held back after considering you two weren’t close enough for you to do that.

“Well isn’t that the mouth of a real princess….” He turned back to you and crossed his arms with a playful expression and smug grin “I can see now the stories are true.”

“What stories?” You frowned and took a defensive attitude.

“The stories of the petroleum magnate’s daughter being a bit too rebellious to everyone’s concern.” He replied to your question and you wished you hadn’t asked.

“I’m not…rebellious.” You licked your lips nervously “I’m just me.” His eyes met yours again and you secretly wished he wasn’t regretting the decision to get you out of that hideous party.

“I know…” Any trace of playfulness had disappeared from his face and he unlocked the car with the key button. He opened the passenger door for you to get in, holding your hand the whole time and the tingling sensation in your fingertips at his delicate touch almost made you understand why women in movies loved those chivalrous gestures so much.

He circled the car and sat in front of the wheel, the key in the ignition turning and bringing the engine of his Audi R8 to life.

Something seemed to distract him briefly before he started reversing the car out of the parking lot and he moved his hands away from the wheel, turning to look at you with a serious expression. His hand reached out, and for a moment your heart started pouncing inside your chest at the possibility of him actually making a move on you so quickly. But his hand didn’t go anywhere near wherever you would’ve imagined, grabbing something behind your right ear and you noticed after the sound it made, that he was putting on your seatbelt for you.

His long fingers seemed to be struggling to put it in place, and you weren’t sure if that was on purpose or not; but you secretly rejoiced in those glorious seconds where you got to feel his hot breath against your skin and his soft lips so damn near to yours.

Finally you heard the ‘click’ that announced your seatbelt was finally on and he returned to his place, putting on his own and pulling out of the parking lot into the starry summer night.

“I could’ve done that myself you know?” You protested, knowing damn well that you enjoyed the subtle grazing of his forearm against your boob.

“Yeah…I know.” He repeated with a smile you couldn’t quite figure out.

The ride was nothing like you would’ve imagined. There wasn’t flirting back and forth like you’d done with other boys in your life before; there wasn’t physical contact or even any awkwardness, and you didn’t even speak to ask him where you were going, since you knew anything would be better than the place you’d just left. And still, you enjoyed it way more than any other car ride you’d shared with anyone else. Every now and then he would shoot you a look, making your cheeks heat up because he’d caught you staring.

Sometimes he would mouth a few of the words from the song that was playing from his stereo: soft indie music. Your favorite, actually.

The windows were rolled down, probably making a rat’s nest out of your hair, but the feeling of the warm breeze against your cheeks combined with the relaxing ambiance of the car were too good to even worry.

“We’re here.” He broke the comfortable silence you’d both been in for the past minutes, and you were almost disappointed for the ride to be over, turning to look back at him with that beautiful warm smile plastered on his face again.

“Where’s here?” You asked, ripping your eyes away from his hypnotizing features in the dim light and looking around. The darkness was still out there, barely any light other than the cars passing by to allow you to see any further than the front of your own, but a yellow spot floating not too far away from where you’d parked helped you realize what his plan was “Seriously?” A playful smile crept up your lips, and you were amazed at how this man who you hadn’t seen in years knew you better than your own family.

“Seriously.” He half smiled and kept on driving.

Pulling in the parking lot he, as the gentleman you’d learned he was, helped you get out of his car and held your hand as he guided you through the place; opening up the door for you and smiling even wider when he saw the look on your face.

“You can pick anything you like. It’s my gift to you for your birthday.” He winked and then suddenly you didn’t know what to do with yourself. It’d been so long since you’d had McDonald’s, or any other kind of junk food for that matter that ordering suddenly became the hardest task for you.

“This is…fucking amazing!” You let out excitedly, a little too loud, causing the people who were eating there, along with the employees to look at you two. As if your flashy gown and his perfectly-fitting tuxedo weren’t eye-catching enough.

This time it was you who grabbed him by the hand and dragged him towards the counter, not even caring about the possibility of breaking your ankle by running in those heels; the girl who took your order looked at you strangely, clearly not used to seeing people dressed like that walk into her restaurant, but took your order professionally and soon you were both in the car again with a huge bag each from all the things you’d bought.

“I don’t even care that I’m supposed to act like a lady or whatever.” You simply explained as you unwrapped your first burger and took a huge bite of it. Exclaiming how delicious it was crossed your mind, but knowing it would probably end up with a piece of chewed up lettuce on Seokjin’s gorgeous face, you restrained and waited until you swallowed, helping yourself with the huge plastic cup of icy coke you’d also purchased “It’s been so long since I had a burger.” You reflected, absent-mindedly, closing your eyes in pure happiness only to open them again when you heard a strange laugh to your left.

Seokjin was biting half a fry from his hands, and looking at you with the most delighted look in his eye.

“Who would’ve known the richest princess in the country could’ve been happy about getting McDonald’s for her birthday!” He teased you and rather than getting annoyed you laughed along. It was pretty funny.

“I know I’m gonna sound super whiny…” You prepared him “but at home we only get to eat gourmet food prepared by a chef my mom makes sure to supervise every single day.” And to your surprise he didn’t tease you about it so you continued while he looked at you with his brown orbs intensely enough to make you shiver for the millionth time that evening “I don’t think people really realize that I rarely get to make my own choices. Even when it comes to something as stupid as food. I’m watched every single hour of every single day. I am supervised about everything: what I wear, where I go, who I go out with. It’s exhausting. I never get to be myself for one second…”

“I know what you mean.” He finally spoke when he made sure you were finished, while you chewed on the end of your plastic straw.

“You do?” You asked in a soft voice, surprised someone actually understood you, rather than shut you down saying you should be thankful for everything you had.

“I mean with me it was never as bad as it is with you, maybe because I’m a guy.” And you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes yet again; of course it was because he was a guy “I did get some say in what I wore and the girls that I wanted to go out with, but in other areas like…what I wanted to do with my life and anything regarding my future was, according to everyone around me, not my decision. I was supposed to do what I was told without hesitating because apparently everyone knew what was best for me… but me.” He chuckled bitterly, looking at the lit up dashboard while licking the corner of his mouth, and you knew exactly what that felt like.

“And what did you do about it?” You questioned, receiving an eyebrow raise and a half smile.

“Well…after many arguments with my mother, and many fights with my father; some of them actually quite physical,” He frowned at that statement “I got them to let me choose my own major, which was a real huge deal for me after years of having everything be decided for me.” He looked at you then and you could see in his eyes that he was honestly proud of what he’d achieved.

“So what are you studying now?” You smiled along, feeling his victory like your own.

“I wanna be a teacher.” He confessed and something in your chest fluttered at the image of him standing in front of a classroom of kids who watched and listened to him attentively while he imparted whatever knowledge he was supposed to “An art teacher more specifically.”

“That’s amazing!” You responded sincerely “I wish I could do something like that… Honestly I think it would be pointless at this stage of my life.”

“Hey, that’s not true!” He got serious all of a sudden, putting back the food back in his bag and placing it on the floor of the back seats “I know it can be hard,” He sat there facing you “but it’s not impossible. I mean you’re still young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you!” He stated excitedly, throwing his hands in the air and smiling a reassuring smile “I haven’t told anyone this yet…” He lowered his voice like someone could’ve heard you inside the car in the middle of nowhere “but I even got my own apartment. I know, I’m 23, I should’ve been out my house ages ago, but they just wouldn’t let me.” Yeah, you knew what that was like “I’ve paid the first month of rent with the money I made working myself and it felt so good… So good to finally be able to say that I did something by myself and it was all thanks to my own effort.” Your hand suddenly started itching with the urge of bringing it up and stroking his cheek, because the shining excitement of pride in his pupils made him look like the most adorable being.

“That’s…wow.” You were lost for words “That’s great Seokjin. I’m proud of you.” You smiled sweetly and decided to reach for his hand and give it a light squeeze, which he reciprocated.

“Thank you. It’s amazing to hear that, actually. I’m not sure that’s something I’ve ever heard before.” He admitted a bit sadly “You can just call me Jin by the way…”

“Jin…” You tested the foreign word and found yourself liking it “Okay.” He looked at you with the same previous glimmer in his eyes and for a second neither of you spoke, only the occasional humming of a car passing by making the windows vibrate and the calming music in the background interrupting the silence “Is it too weird if I ask if you want to check it out?” He said then.

“What?” You were taken by surprise.

“My…apartment. Would like to see it? It’s actually not too far from here.” His eyes looked out into the darkness like he as actually looking at said apartment and a smile curved up your lips for the millionth time that night since you’d decided to leave that party. Sadly enough you didn’t remember when was the last time you’d smiled that much in someone else’s company, let alone have that much of a great time. And you were dumb enough to lose yourself in your own thoughts, not realizing that you hadn’t actually replied to his request and the smile in his own lips disappeared briefly, only to come back again as one which, you noticed, wasn’t as sincere. “It is too weird isn’t it? I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way I honestly just wanted to show you my place. Sorry for asking.” He let out quickly and your eyes widened when he faced the wheel again, clearly breaking any contact you could’ve been having before.

“No, wait!” You answered heatedly “Wait, I’d love to! I’m sorry, yes… I’d love to see your new place.”

“Really?” He asked, tone a little pitchy but excitement evident in his features with wide eyes and a small pout you weren’t sure he was aware of.

“Really.”

[schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte]

Bark at the Moon

A Supernatural story for @writingthingsisdifficult‘s 1000 Follower Celebration! Woot!

Details: First-person Reader-insert, Reader x Dean

Monster: Garm, the four-eyed, blood-stained [wolf]hound of Hel whose howl drives people insane.

Word Count: 8163 (Yeah, you read that right. I just...couldn’t...stop.)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide (and violence pertaining to the methods)

*****

I finish my shift at nine at night, instead of three in the afternoon, bike home in the dark—which I hate doing—and nuke some of last night’s lasagna while I change out of my work-smock and into something more comfortable. Burning my mouth on the leftovers at the bar of my micro-apartment’s kitchenette, I glower at the calendar pinned to the fridge by a daisy magnet. 

I covered Ross’ shift on Sunday too, and here I was, trading with him again two days later because he had an inescapable engagement. There’s always the possibility that he’s a superhero, but it’s much more likely that he’s just a douche. And he is just the type of guy who would prefer to be anywhere else than working. I mean, so would I, but at least I keep it to myself. The rest of our coworkers know better than to get involved with him, but he knows that he can always depend on me—not because I like him or anything, but because I’m a pushover at work. The others take advantage of this too—if I’m already at the store, they take it as a given that I’m ready and willing to just keep on working—but theirs are real emergencies. Or at least I think they are.

The lasagna iss supposed to be my dinner tonight anyway—and the next night...and the next—but eating it this late just makes me angry. I put its Tupperware container back into the fridge—waste not, want not—and pull the plastic cake server across the counter. I serve myself a thick slice of carrot cake and lick every crumb and dab of frosting from my plate as I watch an old sitcom on Netflix. 

In the shower afterward, I think about my day off tomorrow. I have laundry to do, library books to return, and serving lunch at the soup kitchen downtown, which is the highlight of my week, to be honest. I’m always making too much food—thank goodness for Tupperware—but this isn’t a problem when feeding 150 hungry people. Some have a roof over their heads but can’t afford to feed themselves. Some come just to break bread with other human beings. Some are passing through, looking for work. And some have been living on the street since before I was born. A lot of them are veterans. A lot have mental health issues. All of them are victims of a broken system.

I make sure they get enough to eat and that they will be warm that night, and then I come home and eat my leftovers and fall asleep to Netflix or a good book. I always think I can be doing more. I’ve tried to get hired in to some administrative position, but with no formal schooling and being deathly afraid of telephone conversations, I’m only qualified for volunteer work in the cafeteria. But as much as I think a free meal is small-fries compared to what I could be doing for the homeless and impoverished community around town, I know that what the soup kitchen provides is important, a staple, a foundation.

And with my unsatisfied altruism at least sated for the time being, I curl up on my daybed with a hot cup of cinnamon spice tea and the last book in the stack I’m taking back tomorrow evening. My eyelids droop as I savor the last few pages again a short time later, and as I turn off the lamp and burrow into my nest of blankets, I think I hear howling in the distance. I take it for a coyote and slip smoothly into slumber. 

*****

I’m passing out extra-large rolls when one of my friends pauses in front of me at the end of the cafeteria counter. 

“Hi, Ben,” I sign, pulling a B down my cheekbone to represent his facial hair. “Roll?” I spell out.

“Yes,” he replies. “Thank you,” after I hand him his full tray. 

“Where’s Don?” I ask, tapping a D on my shoulder to represent the captain epaulettes on his service uniform. The two men are socks, gloves, turtle doves—they came in a pair. They even bunked next to each other in a secluded copse of trees by the old bridge out of town. 

“I don’t know. He went to bed last night, but he was gone this morning.”

This has me a little worried, as Don hasn’t wandered off since July 4th, when some assholes were tossing M-80s into the river and triggered a flashback. Fortunately, he had found his way to the war memorial in front of the library—hopefully he’s there again. 

“I’ll help you look for him after you eat,” I tell Ben, to reassure him and to move him along gently, since a line was building up behind him.

“Thank you,” he signs again, taking a seat at his usual table in the corner.

When I finish cleaning my station and say good-bye to the rest of the staff and a few other people, I walk my bicycle with a case of water in its basket while Ben tells me where he has already been to look earlier. He watches my face and reads my lips when I have questions, like if anything disrupted his own sleep or if he remembered anyone unusual hanging around that might have wanted to pick on a harmless veteran.

“Nothing,” he signs. “Nobody.”

We drop the water off at his camp, and I peek inside Don’s tent. The blankets are mussed, but things are still in their own kind of order. And Don would have put up a fight if someone came into his home.

“We’ll find him,” I tell Ben, pushing my bike beside him as we walked to the library—we don’t know how likely it is that Don went there, but we have to start somewhere.

He’s not outside, staring at the memorial like he had been doing six months ago, nor is he inside wandering among the stacks. The librarians haven’t seen him either—they know him, let him get a library card even without a permanent address.

I drop off my books because we’re there, and then we keep searching.

But by the time the sun starts to go down, we haven’t seen a sign of him, and those who know him haven’t seen him either.

“Sorry,” I tell Ben as I walk him back to their camp.

“We tried.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow and help you look more. And if he’s still missing tomorrow afternoon, we’ll go to the police.”

“Thanks.”

“Stay safe, Ben.”

“And you, Y/N,” he says, using the first letter of my name in his non-dominant hand as he signs the word aide.

*****

The library is on my route home, and I look at the structure as I ride past. I think about what could have happened to Don, whether something triggered another flashback or if malicious circumstances are at play. But who would want to hurt Don?

Something moves in the corner of my eye, and I turn just as a figure in what looks like a green jacket disappears around a corner of the building.

“Don?” I say out loud quietly to myself. “Don!” I call out without thinking.

A patron coming out of the library pauses and stares at me for a short moment and then continues on his way.

I turn my bike and pedal across the lawn after the figure I saw. But when I reach the other side of the building, whoever it was is gone. A small rear parking lot separates the library and a densely wooded area of the park. I wouldn’t go in there alone even in broad daylight, let alone dusk.

I pedal to my apartment quickly in the dark chill, questioning if I saw anything at all. I’ll have to ask the librarians again if Don showed up after Ben and I left. It’s not until I get inside and take off my coat that I realize how hungry I am, and no wonder—I only had cinnamon toast for breakfast.

I heat up some lasagna and watch Netflix on my laptop at the counter. I didn’t check out any new books today, so I have nothing to read, but the search for Don has left me exhausted—I can only imagine how Ben must feel.

After a quick, hot shower, I’m ready for bed. As I snuggle into my blankets, I hear a coyote howl again. But I’m more awake tonight than I was before, and it doesn’t actually sound like a coyote. A coyote’s call undulates much more than what I’ve heard. Rather than a coyote’s yips, this long, steady howling sounds like a wolf. A chill runs down my spine when I hear it again, and I pull a pillow over my ears, wondering what a wolf was doing so close to civilization.

*****

A buzzing wakes me the next morning, and I realize from the way the light falls through the windows that I overslept. But Ross is covering my shift because I covered for him on Sunday, so I forgive myself for forgetting to set my alarm.

The buzzing stops, and I recognize it as my phone. I stretch and reach for it on the coffee table and am confused when my caller ID shows my manager Toby’s name and number.

The phone starts buzzing again with a call from Toby, and a niggling pressure settles between my eyes.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Y/N, are you okay? Where are you? Why didn’t you come in? Or call in? You’re a half-hour late! If you don’t have a good reason for this, I’m gonna have to write you up!”

“I didn’t come in because I traded with Ross,” I explain, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of my daybed. “I worked his shift Sunday. And I worked it Tuesday, so I’m off Friday too.”

“No one told me!” Toby huffs. “And Ross isn’t here! It’s his day off. And you’re on the schedule! Y/N, you have to come in.”

“Call Ross,” I tell him. “I have an emergency to deal with today.”

“Come in and cover your shift until I can get in touch with Ross and figure out what’s going on,” he says.

“I just told you what’s going on. Toby, my friend is missing!” I practically shout. “I have to look for him.”

“I’m sorry about that, Y/N,” he soothes, “but I need you to come in. An hour tops.”

I hold a pillow against my face and groan into it. “Fine,” I snap. “An hour. Call Ross as soon as I hang up.”

“See you soon. Hurry.”

*****

The niggling pressure becomes a full-blown headache by the time I get to work across town. Toby meets me in the breakroom as I wheel in my bike, and I know from the look on his face that I’m screwed.

“Ross isn’t answering,” he says, and I seriously contemplate murder for the first time in my life. “I’ll let it go that you’re late because of the misunderstanding, but I need you to work your regular shift today. And maybe tomorrow.”

“It’s not a misunderstanding,” I try to say as calmly as I can. “I worked doubles Sunday and Tuesday. My time card proves it. If I work today and tomorrow—even if I just work today—I’ll go over 40 hours.”

“And I’ll look over your time card and consider approving the overtime.”

“What do you mean consider?” I ask. “If I’m working overtime, I’m getting paid for that overtime.”

“Then just work four hours today to bring your hours up to 40,” he tells me. “I’ll keep calling Ross. If he doesn’t pick up, I’ll ask someone else to cover your shift this afternoon and tomorrow.”

“Fine,” I say. I would rather eat glass than thank him for his shitty compromise.

“Okay. See you out there.”

When he’s back in his office, I call the assistant director of the soup kitchen and let her know that I won’t be in to help with lunch today after all. She’s much more sympathetic about the fiasco at work than Toby was about Don’s disappearance.

“If you see Ben, can you tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can?”

“No problem. I take it Don still hasn’t shown up?”

“No, not a sign of him.” I don’t mention the figure that may or may not have been him at the library, if there was even a figure there at all.

“Do you need more bodies? I can spare a few of the cleaning staff.”

“That’d be great. Thank you, Deena.”

“All right, I’ll see you later.”

“Yep. Bye.”

*****

Toby finds me as I’m clocking out. Ross finally picked up his phone. He completely forgot about today. Toby wrote him up, and he’s coming in to finish my shift and covering for me tomorrow.

“Fine,” I say again. The two men have just wasted four hours of my day, time I could have used to keep looking for Don. I’m not thanking Toby for giving me less than what I had coming to me.

I pop a couple of aspirin and bike back across town to the soup kitchen. Ben has already eaten and is ready to go. I have a short meeting with Deena and a handful volunteers for a search party. I tell them where Ben and I have already looked, but the places are worth trying again if he’s still on the move—if he isn’t hurt, or trapped somewhere, or somehow immobilized.

Ben and I look out for him on our way to the police station. Nothing.

I don’t know the exact model of the black classic car parked in one of the spots reserved for official business, but I allow myself the distraction of admitting what a beauty she is.

Over the desk sergeant’s counter, I have a clear view of the officers’ bullpen and two tall men in dark suits among the beige uniforms. They’re deep in conversation with what might be the sheriff himself.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” the desk sergeant asks.

“Yes, we’d like to report a missing person,” I reply, glancing over at Ben.

“I’ll get someone to help you with the paperwork,” she says, waving for an officer’s attention.

We’re taken through to a desk some feet away from the two strangers and the sheriff, and the officer starts asking for Don’s information. When he asks how long he’s been missing and I tell him since yesterday morning, he stops writing and sighs.

“Ma’am, we have to wait at least 48 hours before starting a missing-person investigation,” he explains.

I interpret for Ben, then wipe my hand down my face in near exasperation.

“You don’t understand,” I tell him. “Don is a very predictable man. He and Ben are practically joined at the hip. Something’s happened to him.”

“My hands are tied until it’s been 48 hours,” the officer—Preston—repeats.

“Listen, he’s a homeless veteran,” I say slowly. “He has mental-health issues. He has a routine, and he would not break it. He went to bed last night, just feet away from his friend, and he was gone yesterday morning. Something…is…wrong.”

“Excuse me.”

I look up and to my left and into the brightest hazel eyes I’ve ever seen.

“I’m Agent Osbourne from the CDC,” one of the suits says gruffly, but it’s because of the deep pitch of his voice and not the tone of it. He offers his hand, and I shake it as he nods to the even taller suit with dark shaggy hair. “This is my partner Agent Leonard.”

“Y/N,” I introduce. “This is my friend Ben Mayhew.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Osbourne says. “Excuse me for eavesdropping, but I understand a friend of yours has disappeared?”

“He’s more Ben’s friend,” I reply, continuing to interpret. “This officer is saying there’s nothing the police can do until it’s been 48 hours.”

“Under normal circumstances, no,” Agent Osbourne says, looking back and forth equally between me and Ben. Then he turns back to the sheriff. “Sheriff Bernard, may we move this interview into your office?”

“Uh, yeah. Of course.”

We congregate in the private room, Ben and I in the guests’ chairs, Bernard behind his desk, and Osbourne and Leonard in front of the window beside him.

“You said your friend went missing two nights ago?” Osbourne clarifies.

“We said good-night,” Ben signs as I interpret. “He likes to read before sleep. He has a lantern. I saw the light. I fell asleep. When I woke up, his tent was open and he was gone. I waited, cleaned up. He never came back.”

“And he has mental-health issues, you said?” Leonard recalls. “Schizophrenia?”

Ben shakes his head. “PTSD, anxiety. He’s a Vietnam veteran.”

“Has he ever done anything like this before?” Bernard asks me.

“Not often,” Ben answers. “He had a flashback July 4th. Some guys had loud fireworks near our camp. We found him in a few hours of knowing he was gone.”

Bernard regards me. “So, did you check the place where you found him last time?”

“Of course,” Ben signs. “That’s the first place we looked yesterday.”

“And is he known for being a danger to himself or others?” Bernard asks me.

“Sheriff Bernard, I’m just the interpreter,” I inform him. “Please direct your questioning toward Mr. Mayhew.”

“Oh.” He glances at Ben. “Sorry.” Then he leans forward and says loudly and slowly, “Is he dangerous?”

“Why is he talking like that?” Ben signs to me.

“Because he’s an asshole,” I only sign, forming an F with my hand, turning the circle of my thumb and finger up on top, and pushing it out from my chest toward Bernard with more than a little force.

Osbourne huffs out a soft laugh, Leonard elbows him in the ribs, and he covers with a pronounced cough. I blush when I realize that at least Osbourne understands some ASL.

“What did he say?” a clueless Bernard questions.

“He said he’s not dangerous,” I tell him tightly. “Don’s defensive and probably confused if he’s been triggered again. And if he’s not hurt already, he needs to see a familiar face before he does get hurt.”

“The way he was acting the past several days,” Leonard brings up to Ben. “Was it strange or unusual at all?”

“No, I don’t think so. Whatever happened to him, it happened quickly, while I was sleeping.”

“Miss Y/N, I don’t mean to pry,” Osbourne says to me, “but do you live anywhere near the two gentlemen’s camp?”

“About a mile away,” I answer.

“And did you happen to notice anything, hear anything, out of the ordinary two nights ago, or last night perhaps?”

“No, not really. I mean, I heard a wolf howling,” I recall. “I thought it was a coyote the first time. I remember thinking it sounded awfully close.”

The two agents exchange a look, and it dawns on me that they’re from the CDC, with diseases, and plagues, and outbreaks.

“Do you think there’s a wolf out there preying on people?” I ask them, looking briefly at Ben as I interpret for him.

“Wolf?” he repeats, and I nod.

“Like, is it rabid or something?” I go on. “Is that why you’re here? Is someone else missing?”

Their eyes meet again for just a second.

“They’re not missing anymore,” Leonard carefully phrases, and I catch enough from his grim tone to understand what he means by that.

“They died? Did the wolf maul them? Did it just bite them and pass on some kind of infection? There was no blood in Don’s tent, no struggle.”

“He could’ve gone off in the middle of the night to relieve himself,” Osbourne conjectures.

“Did it maul the other person, or people, or not? How many are there?” I demand.

“Three,” Leonard says.

“Your friend makes four,” Osbourne says. “Another homeless man in a city to the north, a hiker, and a bartender walking to her car after work. It didn’t maul them, but it infected them with something, some sickness, and they completely lost touch with reality.”

“What happened to them?” I want to know.

“There were a couple of days of odd behavior and mostly-incoherent rants,” Leonard tells us. “Then they committed suicide.”

“How?” Ben asks.

They exchange another look.

“How?” I repeat for myself.

“The bartender walked in front of a bus,” Leonard relates. “The hiker jumped from a window in his fifth-story walk-up. The homeless man was picked up for vagrancy and disturbing the peace and committed for a 72-hour hold in a county hospital.”

“He ran into a wall head first until he broke his neck,” Osbourne shares.

“Clearly not premeditated in any of the cases,” I remark.

“No,” Osbourne agrees. “That’s why we need to find your friend as soon as possible. He’s already susceptible to intrusive and irrational thoughts. We need to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”

“And you need to find that wolf,” I tell them. “Why isn’t the DNR helping you track the animal?”

The agents’ eyes meet again in that furtive way for the fourth time, and in that moment, if I didn’t know any better, I would swear that they’re related.

“Oh, they’re helping,” Leonard insists. “They’re…checking out where the wolf might’ve come from…and Agent Osbourne and I are checking out whether whatever the wolf is passing on isn’t contagious between humans.”

“Well, if there is a wolf, Don almost certainly came into contact with it himself,” I figure. “His and Ben’s camp is pretty secluded, and Don doesn’t take too well to strangers on a good day. And we’re wasting time when we could be looking for him.”

I stand, Ben gets to his feet, and the two agents straighten to attention while the sheriff pushes himself up stiffly behind his desk.

“We’ll walk you out,” Osbourne offers, a small smile on his lips.

“Thanks.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Sheriff,” Leonard says. “We’ll be in touch.”

Bernard tips his head. “Gentlemen. Ma’am.” He stares at Ben. “Sir.”

Ben and I both give him a cursory wave—I’m certainly not going to thank him—and follow the agents out into the chill of the late afternoon. Osbourne hands me a card with a handwritten number on it.

“This is where you can reach us, if you think of anything else,” he tells me. “Maybe we should get your information too, if we have any more questions.”

“Pen?” I request. “Paper?”

He produces a blank card with a flick of his wrist, a pen with another, and I write down my cell number for him. He flashes a smile when I give everything back to him, and I almost forget why he and his partner are here in the first place. Almost.

“Well, we have to get back out there,” I tell him.

“I don’t think that’s wise,” he shares. “But somehow I think nothing short of tying you to the bed will stop you.”

“I…” I feel my cheeks warm. “Well, you’re not wrong. Bye, Agent Osbourne. Agent Leonard.”

Ben waves to them both with more amiability than he had for the sheriff.

Across the parking lot, I stop Ben and ask him, “Can you read their lips from here?”

He turns to check. They’re standing beside the black car I noticed on the way in. “Just one of them. Osbourne.”

“What’s he saying?”

Ben raises an eyebrow but watches them beside their car. “She’s smart. She put a lot of things together, and quick. I told you one of us should have been from the DNR.” He looks at me, confused. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Keep going,” I instruct him gently.

He turns his eyes back to Osbourne. “If he was still in town, his friends would’ve found him by now. There’s 30 acres of woods on the edge of the park that opens up to the county nature preserve. We’ll start there. If we get to him before he’s completely disconnected from reality, we may be able to get him help and reverse the effects.” He drops his hands and spins on his heels away from them.

I peek at the two men and see them watching us. “Shit. Let’s go.”

“Y/N, what’s happening?” Ben repeats as we wander back to his camp.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I don’t think you should sleep by yourself for a while. I’m going to call Deena and try to get you a bed at the shelter—just for a few days.”

“I can’t leave. I have to be home if Don comes back.”

“It’s not safe!”

“I don’t care!”

I sigh at him, exasperated, and know that he’s just as stubborn as I am. “We have to keep looking for him. The agents—or whoever they are—mentioned the woods. I saw—or thought I saw—Don go into the woods behind the library on my way home last night.” I notice the gloom of the dying day and stop Ben. “It’ll be dark soon. I would never force you into a dangerous situation.”

He doesn’t even have to think about it. “I have flashlights and a can of bear spray in my tent. Bear spray will work on a wolf, won’t it?”

I nod with a small smile. “Let’s go.”

*****

As we reach the hidden path down the embankment to their shelter of trees, I see a flash of movement halfway across the bridge. I look closer and pick out a form between the steel webs and the railing.

“I think it’s Don,” I share with Ben. “Walk with me. Steady. Don’t startle him.”

“He’s going to jump,” Ben says. “He’s going to kill himself, like the others.”

“Not if we can help it,” I tell him. “Come on.”

We cross the bridge slowly, staying in the middle so he can’t see our approach. When we get even to him, with only the webs between us, I squint my eyes against the sun lying just above the horizon and realize that Don is standing on the outside of the railing. His service jacket is splotched with dark mud, and one of the shoulder seams is ripped.

“Careful,” I tell Ben.

He nods.

I step closer. “Don?”

The familiar figure has been looking at the water 150 feet down, but his head shoots up at my voice.

“Don. Don Fletcher,” I say softly. “Do you know who I am? It’s Y/N.”

He keeps his hold on the railing tight as he cranes his head enough to the side to see me. His face is dirty, and his eyes are wide and unfocused.

“Don’t…don’t,” he rasps. “Don’t…”

“It’s okay, Don,” I tell him gently. “I’m your friend, remember? Y/N.”

“It’s coming,” he whispers. “It’s…it’s coming. It’s gonna….end… End it all.”

“It can’t hurt you, Don. You’re safe now.”

“It’s coming,” he repeats.

“What’s coming, Don? Talk to me. Come back over here and tell me about it.”

He looks down at the water again. I feel a hand on my arm and turn to Ben.

“Don,” I try again. “Ben’s here.”

His head comes up, but he keeps it forward toward the sunset.

“You remember Ben. He’s your best friend.”

“Ben,” Don says, so soft I barely hear it.

I think we’re getting through to him. I actually feel Ben’s and my hope.

“It’ll come for you too,” Don says clearly. Then he lets go of the railing.

I lunge forward as he falls and get my hands around his arm, but the weight of him and the drop nearly pull me over with him. Then Ben grabs my waist and the rail to hold me back. Don grips my wrist with one hand and scrabbles at my arms with the sharp fingers of his other. I see a fear in his big eyes—not that I won’t let him go, but that I will.

“No,” he gasps. “No!”

“I’ve got you,” I say, but I don’t know for how long. I don’t think I can pull him up even with Ben’s help, and I can’t hold onto him forever. “I’ve got you.”

“Don’t…don’t…”

I’m thinking of how I can get an arm free to grab his other wrist, or how I can make him understand that he has to swing his legs up somehow. Then another weight is behind me, wrapping its arms around me, and I turn to find Agent Osbourne, out of the suit and in a leather jacket and jeans. He meets my eye and the desperation he must see on my face is mirrored by the determination I see on his.

He works his way around me and Ben, hooks a leg in the middle railing, and leans over the top bar to grasp Don’s left arm.

“When I grab the waist of his pants,” he tells me, “pull.”

“Okay.”

He reaches down with his right arm and gets a fistful of fabric. “Now.”

With my adrenaline, his brute strength, and Ben as two more arms and legs, we manage to pull Don over onto the pedestrian walkway efficiently enough. Osbourne holds him down, though Don doesn’t appear to put up much of a struggle.

“It’s coming,” he sobs quietly. “It’s coming.”

“Call Sheriff Bernard,” Osbourne instructs me, catching his breath. “Tell him to send a cruiser, no sirens or lights.”

“Right.”

*****

We get Don to the psychiatric wing of the county hospital calmly enough, and a sedative upon admission is administered to keep him that way. Ben said he wouldn’t leave his side without a fight, and then they’d have to admit him anyway, so Osbourne and I have been watching them through the door of their room for the past fifteen minutes.

Don had clawed at my arms with such force that he ripped through my sleeve, shirt, and even my skin in some places, and a nurse cleaned and bandaged it while they were admitting him. But it was worth it—it had not been the actions of a man who wanted to die. With therapy and medication, Don has a chance. I updated Deena, told her about the rogue wolf, and asked her to find room for more beds for people at the shelter until it was captured.

“Who are you?” I finally ask the man I know isn’t any kind of federal agent, without looking away from Ben and Don. “Really.”

“Your friend did read our lips, didn’t he?” he evaded. “I knew it.”

“Who are you, and what the hell is going on around here?” I demand again.

He regards me from the corner of his eye and then sighs. “How much do you know about Norse mythology?”

“What?”

“Norse mythology. How much do you know?”

“I’m guessing you mean beyond the Marvel movies and comic books,” I reply mildly.

He huffs out a dry laugh. “There’s a legend about a wolf named Garm. Huge thing. Four eyes, blood-matted chest. A howl that drives people insane.”

“Are you serious?” I question.

He doesn’t say anything, but his expression is serious enough.

“It’s real?”

He tilts his head.

“Oh, my God.”

“He prefers Chuck.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Another time. Anyway, the research my brother and I have been able to compile—”

“Your brother? Who’s your—?” I cut myself off. “Agent Leonard. I knew it.”

“Sam, actually,” he shares.

“And you would be?”

“Dean.”

“Dean,” I repeat. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he grins.

“About this Garm,” I reintroduce.

“Right. Some of the tales confuse it with Fenrir, the wolf who will devour Odin during Ragnarök.”

“The death of the gods and the end of the universe,” I recall. Something clicks in my brain. “It’s coming, Don said. It’s going to end it all. Garm’s howling—even if he’s a separate entity from Fenrir, if it showed Don and the others Ragnarök and they saw the destruction of the entire universe, that could be enough to drive someone insane.”

“Some sources do suggest that Garm is a herald of Ragnarök. And some say it guards the entrance to Hel itself.”

“If I saw Hel, I’d probably lose my mind too,” I admit. “In any case, we have to stop it.”

“You’re taking to this really well.” He almost sounds impressed.

“Well, one of my closest friends almost died,” I remind him. “It’s shock. It’ll wear off, and I’m probably going to scream and swear a lot.”

“No, I don’t think so. You were very perceptive, inquisitive, earlier. Do you do it professionally?”

“Professionally, I stock shelves in a dollar store,” I relate, turning back to the older men. “How do we get rid of it?”

“As I was saying, English translations of this stuff are pretty scarce, and my Old Norse is a little rusty.”

“You’re hilarious,” I deadpan.

“I try,” he smirks. “From what my brother and I have learned, we have to feed it something.”

“Any kind of something, or a specific something?”

“Specific something, but we’re still trying to figure out what.”

“Well, before we can feed it, we have to find it.”

“We, huh?”

“It almost killed my friend,” I tell him. “If that thing is a Hel-guardian, I’m going to help you send it back where it came from.”

He stares at me, considering, contemplating something. I stare right back.

“Let’s go to my motel room,” he says at last.

“What?” I choke out.

“Our books are there, our equipment.” He raises an eyebrow. “What did you think I meant?”

I bite my tongue to stop from embarrassing myself.

Dean grins at me—he can guess. “Believe me, sweetheart, you need to save your energy for hunting.”

“I didn’t—I wasn’t…” I release a long breath with my hands on my hips. “You don’t know—”

“Yes, I do,” he says simply, turning away toward the elevators. “Because I was thinking it too.”

*****

We walk in the night to the motel. Dean and Sam had set out on foot to track Garm and at least figure out if and where it’s bedding down to sleep, so that it will be easier to find it again when they know what they need to feed it. They had separated, but with a gun full of special bullets and mp3 players full of classic rock, they each felt safe from the thing’s howl and teeth.

“Are you hungry?” Dean asks as he lets us into his room.

My stomach growls in reply.

“Burgers okay?” he all but chuckles.

“Burgers are fine.”

“Coffeepot’s somewhere on the desk under all that paper,” he gestures. “There’s more books in Sam’s room—connecting door’s right there. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Okay.”

When I’m left alone, I look around at the clutter—old notebooks on half of the bed, leather-bound tomes piled five or six high on the round table in front of the window. Dean’s suit is hanging in a garment bag in the closet, but the rest of his clothes are spilling out of a duffel bag on a chair in the corner. Faded tee shirts, flannel shirts, jeans. I see the waistband of a pair of underwear and concentrate on making a pot of coffee.

I’m in the middle of a cup of sweetened black and an encyclopedia of Norse mythology when Dean returns with cheeseburgers and fries from a diner I’ve eaten at a few times.

“Anything?” he wonders, laying out the food.

“I’m cross-referencing Garm with Odin, Tyr, Thor, Loki. So far, nothing.” I bite into a cluster of fries. “Check in with your brother?”

“Yeah, his GPS says he’s somewhere on the edge of the park,” he says, tucking into a burger and another book. “He thinks he found some tracks, but it’s hard to tell if it’s Garm’s or just a plain old wolf’s.”

“Are they fresh?”

“He thinks so. He’ll text us when he knows for sure.”

“Us? You told him I’m helping you?”

“Yes…” he draws out. “Credit where credit’s due, right?”

“Right, yeah.” I turn back to my book.

“What is it, Y/N?” he asks.

“Nothing. I just want to send this thing back to Hel as soon as possible.” A light bulb goes on in my mind, and I gasp, nearly choking on a piece of greasy beef.

“Woah, hey, careful.” Dean leans around to smack my back. “Y’all right?”

I swallow the bite and wash it down with some coffee. “Yeah, yeah. Hel!”

“What’s wrong?”

“No, Hel—Loki’s daughter,” I explain. “Garm is a hound of Hel.” I flip through the pages of the encyclopedia until I get to Hel’s section. “She’s the half-dead ruler of the realm of the same name. And the entrance is guarded by a monstrous hound—Garm.” I skim the passages. “Here. For a living soul to enter Gnipa cave and Hel beyond, Garm may only be appeased by one who has served life to the Folk. Offer a Hel-cake to the hound and pass into the realm of the dead.” I look up at Dean. “What’s a Hel-cake?”

“And how specifically does a person have to serve life to the folk to fit that description?” he adds.

I shrug. “You do yours, and I’ll do mine.”

He shrugs too and goes back to reading.

Sometime later, our cartons of food and cups of coffee are empty, Dean has his laptop out, and I’m on Sam’s digging through recipe blogs.

“If I never see another Pinterest board after this,” I mutter, “it’ll be too soon.”

A small laugh leaves Dean in a soft huff. “Find anything?”

“Wait, I think…” I minimize several browser windows so that the thoughts in my head can follow a reasonable chain. “Okay, hear me out.”

“I’m all ears.”

“The only recipe I found for Hel-cake is from an Irish chef. Her Irish-ness has nothing to do with this, but apparently, hell is how you pronounce the Hebrew word for cardamom. I mean, the Norse word for cardamom is kardemomme, but if we transliterate the Hebrew word into the Roman alphabet, we get H-E-L. Transliteration is subjective up the wazoo, and I’m making some assumptions here that could be dangerous if I’m wrong—”

“It’s all we’ve got, Y/N. It’s worth a try,” Dean says kindly. “What’s the recipe?”

“It’s a cardamom sour-cream cake. We can bake it at my apartment.”

He closes his laptop lid. “All right, write down the ingredients and let’s go shopping.”

*****

As the cake bakes, Dean tells me that he didn’t get far with what Folk could mean beyond the genre of music or people in general.

“That probably means you,” I suggest from beside the oven, leaving him to sit alone on the other side of the counter. I had embarrassed myself earlier with an angry outburst when he had exclaimed Oh, Baby as he started the engine of his car—a ’67 Chevy Impala, I learned—but he hadn’t been talking to me when he said it. “You told me you and your brother are…hunters? That this isn’t the first monster to wreak havoc in small-town America. You serve the people by protecting them from all sorts of supernatural beasts and agendas. You preemptively save their lives.”

“Maybe. It’s worth a shot.”

With the cake out of the oven, I serve Dean the last slice of my carrot cake so that I can put the Hel-cake on the plastic server and into the freezer to cool faster.

“This is so good,” he praises with his mouth full. “Do you have any milk?”

I chuckle at him and pour a glass for each of us before making the icing.

As I drizzle the sour-cream icing over the top and sides of the single-layer cake, Dean rinses the dishes and sets them in the strainer and then comes up behind me and puts his hands on my waist. It startles me, but it’s a comfortable sensation.

“I can’t let you come with me, Y/N,” he breathes into my hair.

“No way,” I refuse, turning around in his arms. “I’ve helped you this far. I baked the freaking cake.”

“It’s too dangerous,” he insists. “If I can’t protect you—”

“I’ll protect myself, thank you very much,” I tell him.

“Have you ever shot a gun?” he asks.

“I went hunting with my dad when I still lived at home,” I share.

“Deer and turkeys are not hounds of Hel, or wendigos, or vampires,” he resists.

“That’s not what you asked,” I retort, pushing him away so I can get another one of my coats. “Like you said, short of tying me to the bed, nothing’s going to stop me.”

He secures the lid of the cake server with a sigh and pulls on his own jacket. “Do you have an mp3 player, earbuds?”

“In my coat pocket.”

He sighs again. “I’ll give you a gun when we get to the park.”

“Well, you can hand over the cake now,” I tell him. “Since you’re driving.”

*****

We meet Sam at the edge of the wooded area. He tracked Garm’s paw prints to a small cave just beyond the park and into the nature preserve and pinned the location on his phone’s GPS.

I trade Dean the cake for a pistol loaded with silver bullets. He gives me two extra clips just in case.

“Be careful,” he says over the blaring of music in our ears.

“Likewise,” I all but have to shout.

Sam leads us into the trees, I follow in the middle with the pistol’s safety off but my finger away from the trigger, and Dean brings up the rear.

The flashlights attached to our guns bob along the ground in front of us for what feels like forever in the cold darkness, but then Sam pauses and I stop short. I peer around him, and there is the cave.

A large wolf stands in front of its entrance, head down, hackles up, teeth bared. Its shoulders stand as tall as my waist—his head would probably be as tall as my chest, if not higher. Its black eyes glow menacingly at us—how black eyes can even glow is beyond me. Another set of eyes, smaller and glowing a milky gray, lie on its head between the first pair and its ears. Blood drips from its muzzle, and the fur on its chest is matted with the stuff.

Dean steps forward past me and Sam, already having removed the lid of the cake server. Garm’s attention moves to him as he slowly approaches the beast. As he crouches forward to set the platter on the ground as an offering, Garm snaps at him. Its powerful jaws are at least two feet short of its target, but the warning works. Dean backs up to us, and we keep an eye on it, guns at the ready, while we try to come up with a new plan.

“Obviously, I’ve never served the Folk,” Dean says loudly. “Sammy, something tells me you don’t fit either. Y/N.” He leans close. “Get behind us and start backing up nice and slow. Maybe the silver can immobilize it for now, while we find someone who can stop it, or maybe it can kill it outright. Reach into my right pocket,” he tells me.

I do, and pull out a set of keys.

“When the shooting starts,” he says, “run to the car.”

I shake my head. “No!”

“Now, Y/N,” he directs sternly.

“Stop telling me what to do!” I yell back. “I know I’m just some small-town stock-clerk, who volunteers at a soup kitchen so I don’t die from loneliness, but—” The angry words dissolve in my throat as the last puzzle piece locks into place. “Give me the cake.”

“Are you out of your mind!?”

“Thanks to Queen blasting in my ears, no. But it’s me. I’m the servant,” I realize. “The Folk aren’t just people—they’re ordinary people. Common people. And in the feudal system a thousand years ago, ordinary common people were the poor. And bread is a staple. The Bible even calls it the staff of life. I’m in charge of rolls at the kitchen. Don’t you see? I have to make the offering.”

From the look on Dean’s face, I think he would have preferred a gunfight to me figuring that out.

“Give me the cake, Dean.”

“Give it to her, Dean,” Sam tells his brother. “We got her covered.”

He hesitates but reluctantly passes me the platter. “The same goes—if the shooting starts, run.”

“Okay.”

Taking a step toward Garm, I see teeth, shiny in the lights from the firearms Dean and Sam have pointed at it, but it hasn’t moved closer. As I slowly approach, the cake server low so that the it can see the gift, it stops snarling and licks its chops. From the rippling of its jowls, though, it’s still growling, and the short fur on its back is still raised in warning.

I take one more small step and put the server on the forest floor, backing up until Dean grabs the back of my coat and pulls me to his side. Watching us, Garm creeps up to the cake, sniffs it, and devours it in a few massive mouthfuls.

“What if that wasn’t enough?” Sam asks.

“It said a Hel-cake,” I tell him.

“And technically, that was a Hel-cake,” Dean adds.

Garm licks its chops again and lies down, its great forepaws covering the cake server. It drops further, onto its side, panting. I almost can’t believe when its fur starts smoking—but until a few hours ago, I didn’t believe that all the monsters from my childhood bedtime stories actually exist.

The thick, gray cloud covers its body and seeps low over the ground toward us. I smell something like the most rotten of eggs and start to cough.

“Sulphur,” Dean says. “Cover your mouth. Watch out.”

We stand ready with our weapons, in case it has the strength to get up and attack us. But when the smoke dissipates a moment later, Garm is nothing but a pile of ashes.

I turn to Dean to ask him whether it’s over, and he’s already removing his earbuds, Black Sabbath resounding out until he cuts the music. Sam and I turn off our music and pocket our players too, and Sam steps forward with a vial in his hand.

“Stay back,” Dean tells me, keeping his arm around me. “He’s cleansing the remains.”

“Oh.”

“You didn’t want to keep the cake server, did you?” he manages to joke.

“Definitely not.”

*****

Dean walks me to the front stoop after they drive me home.

“Interesting line of work you guys are in,” I remark as the eastern horizon begins to lighten.

“Who knows how much longer this case would’ve gone on without your help,” he tells me. “You were incredible.”

“It all feels like a dream,” I admit. “That could be the sleep deprivation talking.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to wake up.”

He holds my head in his hands and sets his forehead to mine. “Neither do I.”

“You don’t suppose…”

“What?”

“I’m one hell of a researcher,” I don’t mind mentioning. “I’m good with people. I bet I would’ve been good with that gun too, if I had to use it. And if I’m not, I can learn.”

His eyes light up with wary hope, but his smile is sad. “Y/N, you don’t know how much I would love…” He stops himself. “It may feel like a dream now, but sometimes…sometimes it’s a nightmare. And you can’t wake up. And there’s sleep deprivation, and exhaustion, and things that will make you question your entire existence…”

“You’re 0 for 3 trying to scare me off, Dean,” I point out.

“It’s not an easy life, Y/N.”

“This one hasn’t exactly been a peach,” I mutter. “And I’m not looking for easy. But I think I’ve been looking for you.”

He sighs and finally lets himself admit, “I think I’ve been looking for you too.”

He tilts his head to the side and presses his lips to mine, and I wrap my fingers around his wrists. When he draws away, his smile isn’t sad anymore.

“How long will it take you to pack?” he asks.

My breath leaves me in a giggly rush. “A day. It’s just my bed and a few tables, some dinnerware and linens. Almost everything but my clothes can go into storage.”

“Sam and I will come back and help after we crash for a few hours at the motel.”

“I have to make sure Ben and Don are going to be all right. And the most important thing of all.”

“What’s that?” Dean wonders.

“I have to call my manager and tell him I quit.”

*****

A/N: Like Dean mentions, information on Garm in English is hard to find. I did the best I could, and I made a lot of educated guesses. If I got something wrong, feel free to kindly let me know. This was so interesting to research and write. Congratulations, buddy! 😘