#second clip of them. and of course i shouldn’t cry about it but knowing that hey. i’m not alone out here and that we’ve probably had similar

[genderqueer-karma]

what the fuck i didn’t expect to cry just now. it’s so amazing how you can connect to people you’ll never meet.

[realcube]

OVERHEARING SOMEONE TALK ABOUT THEIR S/O

characters ♡ baji, mikey & mitsuya

tw ♡ insults (in reference to the reader), violence & robbery 

KEISUKE BAJI 

♡ baji never mentioned that he was dating you to anyone in toman

♡ in fact, he hoped that none of them even knew about your existence, because that would only lead to trouble; and he was correct

♡ he was simply taking a puff on his stationary motorcycle, when members of the division started to filter into the parking lot that he was currently trying to relax in

♡ usually he’d try to ward off strangers so he could enjoy his time alone but he knew these guys from toman, so he allowed them to stay as long as they’d keep their voices down and not bother him

♡ most of his attention was on his own thoughts, but it was immediately redirected when he heard your name brought up in their conversation

♡ only your last name, so he wasn’t even certain whether they were talking about you, but still his interest was piqued 

♡ “they are on shift friday night, the only one left at eleven,” one of the guys explained, gesturing to his bat with a wicked smirk, “we’ll break in then. i’ll drive getaway.”

♡ “what if they call someone? shouldn’t we wait until they’ve left?” another suggested but was quickly corrected.

♡ “once they lock up the security system activates and it’ll be impossible to get in without alerting the cops. so we may as well bust in, handle them, and then steal the bikes.” 

♡ baji cringed, since he was certain that they were talking about you —since you happen to work at a motorcycle shop on friday nights — he hated to think about what they meant by ‘handle’.

♡ “now stop askin’ stupid questions.” the same guy scoffed, twirling around his bat, “i used to work there, idiot, obviously i know what i’m doing.”

♡ the group of six all laughed at the one poor guy who asked the question, and baji did too

♡ he laughed at the irony behind how they were calling each other idiots, when they were all the ones talking about auto theft in broad daylight, and discussing doing unspeakable things to a person, when their boyfriend was standing in ear-shot with a bat and a motorcycle ready 

♡ he did give them the benefit of the doubt in the latter aspect though; how were they supposed to know that y’all were dating when you are never seen spending time with each other?

♡ baji suddenly felt bad; it dawned on him that perhaps he had been neglecting your relationship as of recently. of course, it wasn’t with poor intention, in fact he thought he was taking the moral course of action by avoiding a situation where you are harmed because of his ties with toman

♡ however, being in a gang was no excuse to be a bad boyfriend, he figured 

♡ for now, the least he could do was take care of these guys to save you the trouble 

♡ but perhaps that wasn’t his brightest idea, he realised as he stood amongst the dejected bodies scattered across the ground, “i know you are all alive, so consider this a warning.” baji chuckled at the grunt one produced as he kicked him aside to head back over to his motorcycle

♡ before he left the area, obviously he stole all the cash he could from those guys, which gave him enough to buy the thing he had been eyeing for you

♡ though it took him a while to get his hands on it, it left him with the perfect opportunity to give it to you 

♡ “oi, open up!” baji hollered as he pounded on your door; if baji wasn’t such a bruiser, you would’ve thought he was dying 

♡ “what!?” you hissed, throwing the door open to reveal your frantic state.

♡ you were half angry at how loud he was being, and the other half at how he has been ignoring you for the past two weeks and finally decides to show up just as you were about to leave for work, in fact, you were running late for your night shift

♡ “no need to rush.” baji said, an odd sense of sincerity in his voice as he motioned for you to stop putting your shoes on, “you’re not going to work today.”

♡ you simply laughed, ignoring him and gathering your stuff to leave, “and why is that?”

♡ “well,” baji started, rubbing his chin for effect, “these guys from toman plan on robbing the place tonight. i did give them a warning, but they might still do it. and you know i just want you to be safe.” he said with a mischievous grin, as you both knew there was no way your shop was getting robbed tonight, unless the dudes wanted to try it with both arms broken 

♡ “so did you just come here to tell me that, or is there something else?” although you tried to hide it, baji could tell by your subtle flustered expression that you were thankful

♡ “i found this.” he lied, cupping your hand to lift it and drop in a gold bracelet, “one of the guys had it on him.”

♡ you gasped, taking the bracelet to examine the fine details, and noticed how it had a small crystal heart attached, “yeah, i’m sure a member of toman just so happened to be wearing a charm bracelet.”

♡ “i never said he was wearing it!” baji spat, swiftly snatching it from your hand and holding it above his head, “i can pawn it if you don’t want it.” 

♡ “i like it, though!” you said, reaching up for it, only for him to grab your wrist and put it on you 

♡ “then forgive me for not hanging with you.” he muttered, angrily clipping the bracelet through furrowed brows, while you leaned in to plant a kiss on his forehead 

♡ “it’s fine. i forgive you.” you couldn’t help but snicker at his word choice of ‘hanging out’, which resulted in you getting a swift flick to the forehead

♡ but before you could whine, he quickly followed it up with a kiss <33

MIKEY 

♡ one day he was visiting mizo to find takemichi and he happened to walk passed a group of guys talking about how one of them planned on asking out a person from a different school 

♡ at first he didn’t pay much attention since it was none of his business after all, until he heard that the person’s name and description just so happened to match yours 

♡ so like any good boyfriend would, he halted and told draken to grab takemichi while he listened in 

♡ as he gained more insight into the situation, he learned that the person happened to go to the same academy as you and had the same bus schedule too 

♡ it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the person they were talking about was you 

♡ as it turns out, the guy who planned on asking you out had your bus times memorised so if he was able to run fast enough, he would be able to reach your stop before you got on the bus, which is when he will ask you out

♡ or at least, that is what he hoped would happen if everything went smoothly and there was no unexpected interference from a group of delinquents

♡ mikey had many options on how to deal with this situation

♡ he could ask you to take a different bus, he could do nothing (because he trusted that you’d reject the guy either way) or he could beat them up right now to save himself the hassle later

♡ however, he decided to go with a more peaceful approach 

♡ he continued eaves-dropping until everyone besides the lover boy had left, so he could have an amicable one-on-one conversation with him — definitely no threats involved — and advise the guy to stay in his fucking lane and never go near you ever again, kindly. 

♡ when the day of the proposal arrived, mikey paid you a surprise visit after school and offered to walk you to the bus-stop; not because he was afraid that the dude might confess, but rather since he had booked you both tickets to the movies!

♡ but once you both arrive at the stop, you were greeted by the guy standing there holding a measly bouquet of flowers, looking quite taken back by the fact you were with someone else; even though mikey had done him the courtesy of explicitly telling him to back off 

♡ though he must’ve not got message despite the hand-holding, and he obviously didn’t recognise mikey, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have continued to confess, albeit with quivering limbs and a black eye

♡ but before he could even stutter out a greeting, mikey hissed at him, “what the are you doing?” yet the guy only replied with a shrug

♡ upon observing the interaction, your eyes widen as you turned to look at mikey, “do you know him?”

♡ “never seen him before in my life, dear.” he smiled sweetly, but it was ineffective; you already knew he was lying as soon as he called you ‘dear’. 

♡ “(y/n)!” the guy yelled, trying to catch your attention, but only shaking even more as your gaze fell on him, “i was going to ask you, if—”

♡ mikey let out an exaggerated yawn, widely outstretching his arms to distract both of you, “this has been fun, but we’re running late for the movie.” 

♡ “but i’m not fin—” the poor boy was once again interrupted by mikey waving him goodbye, grabbing your hand and swiftly guiding you around him, back on the route to the cinema

♡ before he even got the chance to cry another plea, you had both already disappeared around the corner 

♡ once mikey had dragged you both far enough away from the bus-stop, you began your interrogation, “seriously, who was that? and what was he trying to say? did you give him the black eye?” you had to stop to take a deep breath, “also, you said the movie would start in the evening!”

♡ mikey brought your hand up —which he had a tight grip on — and kissed the back of it gently, “my bad,” he chuckled slightly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, “i forgot to mention him. i met him a few days ago and he was planning to ask you out so i politely informed him that you were taken.”

♡ “for some reason, i don’t believe that last part.”

♡ he snickered, “and yeah, the movie starts in the evening so we’re not running late. but he wasn’t taking the hint!” he whined while clinging to your arm, as if you were going to run away from him at any second, “forgive me?”

♡ “sure, whatever.” you sighed, rolling your eyes as you watched his expression light up, “but next time, mind your own business! i could’ve just said no, instead of you beating him up, or whatever you did.”

♡ “noted.”

MITSUYA TAKASHI

♡ during his time as the second division leader of toman, he’s overheard all kinds of stuff that he probably wasn’t supposed to; awkward small talk, plans to commit felonies, deep conversations, weed brownie recipes, discussions about health issues — the list goes on forever!

 ♡ however, one topic he has never heard any one ever have the audacity to speak about (within a ten mile radius of him), is you. even though, your relationship was public to toman. 

♡ your name was often kept out of people’s mouth since you rarely interacted with any of the gang members when you visited, hence they didn’t really have anything bad (or good) to say about you. none of them knew you besides the title ‘boss’ partner’. 

♡ so, that’s why mitsuya had to do a double take when he heard someone in his division mutter to the guy beside him, “why does his friend keep visitin’? it’s annoying. plus, they just sit and don’t talk to anyone besides ‘im. they must think they’re better than us or something.” right after mitsuya mentioned that you were visiting toman.

♡ he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow; did that guy really think that he was being sly and quiet? by the look on his face, he seemed pretty self-assured. 

♡ “um, i heard you, idiot.” he hissed, pinching his nose and shaking his head as he watched the knucklehead stare at him dumbfounded, as if the whole room hadn’t heard him too.

♡ “don’t say shit like that. they don’t think they’re better than anyone.” he scorned, balling his fist and almost twitching with anger, fighting the urge to pummel that guy for the sake of his own reputation in toman

♡ and that impulse almost immediately dissipated as soon as you entered the room; his hand loosened and opened to cup your cheek

♡ he was as sweet as can be for the rest of the night, of course, and he still managed to send that dude daggers whenever he got the chance. 

[sergeantxrogers]

| daddy issues |

Summary: You need him like oxygen, and he doesn’t understand why his heart pulls him towards you even though he knows it shouldn’t. 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!avenger!reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: Age gap (reader is 19, Steve is like... 95), mentions of parental abuse, mentions of SA, crying, abandonment issues if you squint, Steve being overprotective

Note: This may or may not be left open to a part 2, if that’s what the people want

____________________

Steve knew it was wrong.

He definitely knew it was wrong, and he cursed himself for it, but Lord help him if he couldn’t tear his eyes away and beat the thoughts back with a stick. 

He knew it was wrong to watch the way your lips moved as you spoke to Natasha, knew it was wrong to eagerly wait to hear your name on the list for an upcoming mission he was leading, and he absolutely knew it was wrong to trace your hips and waist with his eyes, in your skin tight suits you always wore (Nat got you into them, but Steve couldn’t, for the life of him, see how they were comfortable or even practical).

“Steve? Stevie?”

The soft call of his name pulled him out of his thoughts, eyes focusing back to you standing in front of him, worried look on your face.

Stevie. The name you had so kindly taken a liking to the very day you met him. In regular circumstances, Steve would’ve glared at anyone who dared to even think about calling him that, even Bucky, but these, of course, weren’t regular circumstances. He didn’t know why, he just knew they weren’t. 

Steve had no idea where Tony found you, or where Fury had heard of you. Neither did the rest of the team. Fury and Tony had just told them it was “a special case” and that you were “really good at what she does”. However, it took them all a while to warm up to you; you were just a kid, a girl they were supposed to trust and believe she was good enough at what she did (whatever that may be) to be a part of them. 

Sooner rather than later, though, you won them over. Natasha liked you because she found out you were fluent in Russian. And French, and Italian. German, too, along with Arabic and “just a bit” of Chinese. Steve didn’t want to ask. 

Bucky liked you because you showed him your knife collection, and he found out you preferred a spear point over a clip, just like him. Bruce liked you because you read David Turner’s The Green Marble and almost had it memorized, so he found it fascinating to ask you questions directly from the book. 

Tony - well, Tony liked you because you were exactly like him: opinionated, a little self-absorbed, and positively too sarcastic for your own good. Because the two of you got along so well, he kept you under his wing for a good portion of the first few months you stayed at the compound, until you started venturing out on your own. 

“Stevie, what’s wrong?” 

Your words pulled him out of his thoughts again, the slight pout on your lips showing your concern. 

Steve shook his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothin’. Don’t worry about it.”

You gave him a slightly disbelieving frown, but nodded hesitantly anyways.

“Right. Well,” you said through a sigh, “Fury wants me to go on this stupid mission with Nat, and I really don’t wanna.”

Punctuating your sentence with a pout, you crossed your arms and plopped yourself down on the couch beside him. He noticed the way the light caught your lips, probably made up in that cherry lip balm you always used. 

She’s just a kid. Just a kid, he had to keep reminding himself.

“What mission, angel?” the nickname slipped from his lips easily, used to being said, and used to being heard. 

You blew out a breath of frustrated air, picking at the hem of your sleeve before you spoke. 

“Somethin’ high-risk, only Nat and I can do it, he said,” you muttered. 

“What do you mean only you and Nat?” Steve asked, mind already reeling the second you uttered the words “high-risk”.

You shrugged lamely, looking up at him through your lashes with disappointed eyes. “’Cuz we’re girls, and have the same skills, I guess.”

Something about the words you said, and the way you said them, made Steve’s stomach jump up into his throat, made his heart slow its beating down, made him clench his jaw. 

High-risk missions were high-risk for a reason. They were dangerous, even for Thor, or himself, let alone you. Precious you, with your glossy lips and bright eyes, nimble hands and loud laugh. Steve took in a deep breath, before getting up from the couch. Your head shot up, eyes following him as he stood in front of you, a new determination crossing his features. 

“I’m talking to him.”

“Stevie, you-”

“I’m talking to him.”

His tone of voice made you recoil, and you nodded. 

____________________

“She’s just a kid, Fury!”

“A very capable kid, Rogers,” the director replied coldly.

“Still doesn’t change the fact that there are more experienced agents ready to do this mission-”

“It has to be her and Romanoff, and I will not elaborate on this further.”

Steve stared at him, carefully calculating his poker face (and apparently failing), because he couldn’t let Fury know - he couldn’t let anyone know - he was burning inside. 

The mission Fury was sending you on made Steve’s blood boil, a silent underlying fear for your safety clenching his gut. Undercover in Vegas? For a 19 year old girl? Real classy, even for Nick. The director had told him some more details, something along the lines of Sicilian mafia, and drug laundering, and casinos, but Steve couldn’t have been bothered to listen anymore, the anger making blood rush in his ears at a defeaning tone.

Steve left Fury’s office with a slam of the door behind him, storming down the hall, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself before going to see you again. 

Everyone knew he had a soft spot for you, he didn’t really do a good job of hiding it. They figured it out the day you made the team breakfast, serving everyone pancakes. Steve thanked you, ate them with a smile on his face, and thanked you again before placing a chaste kiss to the top of your head, then left. 

Steve didn’t like pancakes. 

Despite the fact that, over the months and months of knowing you, Steve had taken it upon himself to make sure you had everything you wanted and needed, he still didn’t want you to see him this angry. It would worry you, he knew, and it was something he tried to avoid.

Finding himself standing in front of your bedroom door, Steve knocked on it softly, and entered only after he heard your voice calling out for him to come in. 

Shutting it behind him, his eyes found you sprawled out face-down on your stomach, across your pink and white comforter. Steve had been in your room enough times for movie nights and emotional venting that he knew every aspect of it, where each knick-knack stood on your shelves, the grand total of three stuffed animals on your bed (one of which you had begged Steve to buy for your birthday, and when you looked at him like that, how could he resist?), the pattern on your favorite pajamas, even the number of nail polishes stacked across your makeup table. 

It was things like those that made Steve mentally kick himself for thinking the way he did. She’s just a kid.

 Your face was half-smushed into your pillow, peering up at him as he made his way over to your bed and sat next to you. 

Reflexively, as it had so many times before, his large hand rested on the back of your thigh, thumb stroking back and forth as he stared at you, concern marring his features. 

You whined, shoving your face deeper into your pillow. “I don’t wanna go, Stevie.”

Your words were muffled, and he chuckled. 

“I know, angel. But you gotta. Orders are orders.”

Silence filled the room, and for a moment Steve thought you suffocated in your pillow. 

A groan left your body, and you lifted your head. Turning your body to the side, to face Steve, you pouted, blowing a few stray strands of hair out of your face. Steve raised his brows at you in amusement. 

“I’m too lazy to pack,” you muttered, absently pointing to the foot of your bed, where Steve saw your open suitcase laying on the floor, garments of clothing and mismatched shoes surrounding it. 

At the sight of it, Steve’s chest tightened again. He had almost forgotten Fury told him it would be a five day mission. He drew his eyes back to yours, and you could tell he wasn’t happy about the situation. Your hand found his, and you squeezed it tightly, grounding him and drawing his mind into yours with a simple touch. He was fucked.

“I’ll help.”

When he offered to help, Steve hadn’t really accounted for the fact that all the clothes you were supposed to pack were going to be... well, definitely not what dames in the 40s wore. 

He couldn’t help the blush that tinged his cheeks whenever you’d throw a silk slip dress at him to put in the suitcase, or matching sets of lingerie that he would find himself staring at too long for his own good. 

“You’re kidding, right?” 

His unamused tone made you turn around, finding him staring at you with an incredulous look on his face, holding out a skirt in front of him. 

“What?” you shrugged.

“This? This can’t even- this doesn’t-”

His stuttering made you smirk. You knew what he meant; the skirt was inappropriately short, but it had to be if you wanted this mission to go to plan.

“Just shush and throw it in, Stevie.”

You heard him sigh disappointedly behind you. “Alright, whatever you say.”

___________________

Day two of your stupid mission in stupid Las Vegas that stupid Fury sent you on for five stupid days.

At least, that’s what Steve was thinking as he watched you sit down in a too-short dress and too-high heels at a poker table with four men who looked too greasy and grimy for his taste. The quality of the CCTV cameras he was watching you on was shit, but it was enough for him to be able to see where you were and who you were with. 

And he did not like who you were with right now.

“Stefano Ricci,” Tony said behind his shoulder, pointing a finger at the screen. The man right next to you. From Steve’s point of view, you seemed to be smiling and nodding politely at whatever he was saying, sitting at the table with your elbows resting upon it. From your point of view, you were trying your hardest to inch your crossed legs away from his wandering hand, his attempts to rest it on your thigh falling short as you moved slightly whenever he got to close. 

His slicked back hair shined in the colorful casino lights, eyes darkened with a shadow that made you uncomfortable every time he smiled at you, silver tooth winking at you. His friends weren’t any better: all of them looked like the human personifications of some variation of the word “slimy”.

You and Natasha had planned beforehand, as you got ready in your room: you would sit on one side of the table, she would sit on the other. Throw all your femme fatale skills you could possibly muster into charming these disgusting men enough to gain their trust and head with them to their own hotel room. 

Which is exactly what happened.

After a couple hours of fake smiles and air-headed laughter, an occasional bat of the eyelashes and a brush of their arm, and the two of you were set. 

“Mr. Ricci,” you pouted in a breathy voice that you had only ever used when you needed something. 

“Please, amore mio, call me Stefano.” 

His heavy accent and nasally voice made you cringe internally as he held open the door of his suite for you - you stepped inside, Natasha hot on your heels, hanging on to the arm of another man. Giovanni, you had heard them say. 

You smiled politely at him, side-eyeing Nat when they turned their backs to you. The two of you were there only to study and gather the layout of the suite - the attack would be later on - but you knew you still had to be careful. Your heart pounded in your chest at the prospect of these men finding out you had even the slightest connection to SHIELD, or the Avengers. 

“Stefano,” you corrected yourself, taking the drinking he offered you gratefully. “We’re so glad to keep you company.”

You looked at Natasha as you spoke, and she nodded with an innocent look on her face, pout painting her red lips. 

“It’s not everyday we get to meet men like you...”

Your sentence trailed off, as you feigned a chaste smile, looking off to the side. 

You heard him chuckle, and the sound made your stomach churn. 

“Well, angelo, today’s your lucky day,” he grinned, taking a sip of his own drink.

It took everything in you not to grimace at the name. Angel. Your mind went to Steve, his voice in the back of your brain telling you to be careful, his eyes gazing into yours right before you got on the jet and left. A wave of something akin to homesickness washed over you, hit you at once, like someone poured a bucket of ice water over your head, and you suddenly wanted this mission to be over as soon as possible so you could come back to him. 

On the CCTV, Steve watched you carefully. There was only one camera in the entire suite, and it was facing the living room where you were currently being seated. He stared at you, your smile never faltering despite the millions of thoughts he knew must be running through your head. He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Tony watching him with apologetic eyes. Steve took a deep breath, turning his focus back to the screen, where you were currently laughing at something Ricci had said, resting your hand on his arm. He felt his blood boil at the sight, at the way this weasel of a man watched you with snake-like intent. That much was clear even through the crappy cameras. 

Panic washed over him when Ricci grabbed your hand, standing you up and leading you somewhere away from the living room; away from the only camera in the suite; away from Steve’s watchful eye. He saw you turn your head back slightly towards Natasha, and he couldn’t see her face because her back was turned to the camera, but he was 99% sure this wasn’t part of your original plan. 

Going, going, going, and... gone. You were gone, out of view of the camera, Natasha’s head turning after you, wherever you went. Steve felt his heart burst.

____________________

A five day mission turned two. 

Well, two and a half. You counted the few hours it took for extraction to come and get you. And the couple hours it took to wash the blood out of your hair and satin dress. Dumb motherfucker, this was a custom Dior.

It wasn’t your fault, technically. It was supposed to be five days, just for safety measures and technicalities and all that crap, but it was his own fault for cutting his life short like that.

The minute that scumbag Stefano Ricci grabbed you by your hand and tugged you away, you knew you were fucked. Fucked, if fucked meant ruining one of your most expensive dresses because some asshole couldn’t keep his grimy hands to himself. 

As he tugged you into one of the many lavish, secluded bedrooms of the huge suite, your mind was already going over the knife strapped to your thigh, the gun hidden in your purse that was hanging off the crook of your elbow, and every single self defense tactic you had ever learned. A slam against the marble wall, rough hands travelling underneath your dress, wet lips on your neck and before you knew it the scene changed into a slit throat, disheveled hair and red staining satin. And a body on the floor. This was gonna be a bitch to clean up.

You came back to the living room to find Natasha with a gun in her hand, not a living, breathing soul in the suite but the two of you. She asked you what happened with frantic eyes and comforting touches, but you shrank from her touch subtly, sparing her the details.

“He’s been dealt with.”

“Dealt with? What the h-”

“I said it’s done, Nat. We’re leaving.”

You gave the same half-assed explanation, bare of details, to extraction when they picked you up. And gave the same half-assed explanation to any other agent who asked on the flight back, even as you changed and freshened up. You stayed silent the rest of the trip, mind running a mile a minute but staying completely still at the same time. 

You stayed silent as you got off the jet, and as you walked back into the compound, suitcase trailing behind you. Turned out you didn’t need as many clothes as you thought you would. Stayed silent as you shut your bedroom door, and sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the floor. 

You kept telling yourself, trying to convince yourself: you had to. He was a bad person and you had to. That’s what you kept repeating to yourself, muttering the words numbly as you unpacked mindlessly. 

A knock on your door drew you out of your thoughts. You had spent the last few hours after coming back in a state of purgatory, a limbo of neither here nor there. Neither present nor distant. Which was why you were only half surprised when you looked out the window to see it was dark out, and Steve was stepping into your room with a cup of tea and the comfort of a smile on his face. 

It was like the sight of him pumped oxygen back into your lungs, and the fog hanging over your brain cleared a bit when he held his arms out after setting the cup of tea down. 

You fell into them, slamming yourself against his chest and squeezing tight, tight, tight, so tight he thought he would burst but he was fine with it because you were here, you were here and you were in one piece and in his arms again. Steve buried his face into your neck, one hand gripping the back of your head. 

“I missed you,” he mumbled, and you rolled your eyes teasingly.

“I was gone for two days.”

“Three.”

“Yeah, okay, three.”

You pulled back, hands resting on his shoulders as you looked up at him. “Don’t get all soft on me, old man. I’m fine, aren’t I?”

He nodded, slowly, eyes dropping from your face down to travel across your body. All of a sudden, his face paled and he looked up at your face desperately. Soft, hesitant fingers reached out to your thigh, tracing shapes into the skin, bare, only in your sleep shorts. Your eyes followed his fingers and a sense of dread filled you when you saw what he was so afraid to touch. Small bruises in the shape of fingers littered your hip, slowly going purple. Something else caught your eye, and you shifted it to glance at your arm. More bruises, around your bicep. 

Steve called out your name, but you zoned out. His voice sounded like it came from the end of a tunnel as you stood frozen, mind involuntarily replaying the events of the night before.

“I knew it,” he muttered into your ear, back slammed against the cold wall behind you.

“I knew you were a little fucking whore, I could tell by the way you looked at me.”

You winced at his words, his hot breath against your face reeking of alcohol and stale cigarette smoke. You tried to push him off, but he had more upper body strength than you, and slammed your back to the wall again, fingers digging into your hip threateningly.

“I could tell by the way you looked at me that you wanted me to fuck you,” he sneered, licking a stripe along your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine. 

“I don’t want anything from you,” you said through clenched teeth, raising your hand in an attempt to slap him, but he grabbed your arm and tugged it down. 

Eyes glinting maliciously, he grinned at you as you felt his other hand raise your dress, calloused palm gravelling against your skin. A burning rage took over your body, and you managed to rip your arm out of his grasp long enough to snatch the knife tied to your upper thigh. You swung, up, up, up, into his neck, into his throat. He stumbled back, away from you, and you followed, jaw clenched and hand covered in blood. 

You blinked, and through teary eyes, you saw Steve’s face flooded with concern looking back at you. 

“Stevie, it was horrible.”

It came out as a whisper, but he heard, and he pulled you into him again. Bodies rocking back and forth, his hand rubbing your back, cheek rested against the top of your head. Your knees went weak beneath you, and you fell. Steve fell with you, sinking to the ground, holding you tight in the hopes that he could squeeze the bad memories out of your mind. 

He felt his heart thump wildly in his chest. Was it in anger, pain, love, he didn’t exactly know, but whatever it was, it ate him up and swallowed him whole, chewing and chewing until there was nothing left but the broken bones that promised to care for you forever. It was failure, maybe. The idea that he wasn’t there to save you. 

You let the tears fall slowly, wetting the cotton of Steve’s shirt. Your fingers clutched onto it, stretching out the material, and it pulled at his throat but he couldn’t care less because he would face death several times over if it helped you. 

“Please... please-”

You didn’t know what you were begging for, just that you needed it like air as you wrapped your body around Steve’s, legs hugging his waist and sniffling into his shoulder. 

He took a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut as he rocked you. 

“I’m here,” he muttered. “I’m here, angel.”

__________________

Three hours of crying on the floor later and Steve had finally picked you up, placing you softly on the bed. You had grabbed his hand (soft and warm, so unlike Ricci’s rough and careless ones), and begged him to stay with you. 

“Of course I’ll stay,” he told you, as if it was out of the question that he would even think about leaving you. 

You focused on his heavy arm draped across your waist, his steady chest moving with each breath against your back, the small kisses his lips would litter across your cheek and temple. Eventually, when you were calm enough, a few sniffles still managing to break their way through your breathing, you turned around in his hold to face him. 

Steve looked down at you, eyes blue and swimming with commiseration. You stayed quiet, thinking. Thinking, and thinking, and thinking, and Steve could very clearly see the gears in your mind turning, but he said nothing, letting you decide what you wanted to say at your own pace. 

“He would’ve said it was my fault.”

Your sentence confused him. You could tell by the line between his brows whenever he furrowed them, eyes narrowing just the slightest. 

“My father,” you said. 

Steve’s face relaxed in understanding, then hardened again with realization at what you had said. A sigh left your lips and you shoved your head further into his chest, searching for comfort. His arm draped over your back, and you could hear the steady thrum of his heart. 

“Your father?” he asked quietly. You nodded against his chest to the best of your ability. 

“Yeah.”

The word hung in the air like a poisonous gas.

“He would... he would take me with him to work, and make me sit in the corner of the room when he had meetings.”

Steve was soundless, waiting for you to continue, even though he knew he wasn’t going to like what he heard. 

“I was supposed to sit there, and not move a muscle, or say anything. But you know,” you shrugged against his chest, “sometimes I had to sneeze, or cough or something.”

He felt his blood pressure rise with each word you said. You continued, deciding to bare it all for him.

“I remember one day, I really had to use the bathroom, like, really bad. And I tried to keep it in, I swear I did, but I had to ask him to go.”

“And did he let you?” Steve’s voice was hard, hollow. Angry. 

“He did. But I paid for it when we got home.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper, afraid of his reaction, so you kept your gaze down. 

Your head rose and fell with the deep breath Steve took, before his hand found your chin and he lifted your head up to get a better look at you. 

“You know you didn’t deserve it, right?”

You stared at him, eyes flicking between his, then down to his lips, then up to his eyes again. You nodded.

“I do. I know now.”

“Good.”

A kiss to your forehead.

“And you know I’ll protect you, always.”

You nodded again, “I know, Stevie.”

“With my life, if I have to,” he whispered, and you closed your eyes. 

“I know.”

“I love you, angel.”

“I know that, too. But I love you more.”

___________________

TAGLIST:

@dreamsley​ @a-ngeli-que​ @mindyoshiii​ @agirlinherhead​ @s-katergorl​ @ace-27749​ @leyannrae​ @tailsoflightning​ 

[beccascribbles]

hcs series detailing what it is like to be a manager for the various haikyuu teams

karasuno | seijoh |

warnings - swearing

word count - 2.1k

you weren't immune to oikawa's charms, but being friends with him since middle school meant you were the least likely in the school to fall for him (you were also the least likely person he would mess with in that way, especially as iwaizumi would happily punch him for the trouble)

this meant you were a perfect candidate for manager of the team

when you all been first years, the team had come up to you and begged

ultimately, it had been iwaizumi who had finally convinced you (the sight of him almost begging you would be forever ingrained in your mind. boy did not want to be the only one responsible for oikawa)

by the time you reached your third year, you were immensely glad that you had agreed to manage the team

at times, it had been tough. dealing with oikawa's jealous fangirls often felt like a full time job. the amount of times you had sprinted into the club room to the shock of the team was ridiculous

one day, you had dived through the door, yelling for then to shut and lock the door as you crashed to the floor

iwaizumi had been by your side in an instant, worried gaze assessing you for injuries. when you let out a wince, rubbing at you arm, he was automatically assessing it for damage

"it's not broken," he assured you, giving your head an affection pat before his gaze turned to oikawa, eyes narrowing. "call your fucking fangirls off, shittykawa"

"i've tried," he whined, giving you an apologetic look. "clearly their love for me is too strong"

"maybe if they actually spoke to you, they'd realise what a crap personality you have," sighed matsukawa, slapping oikawa on the back affectionately and then holding the hand up to receive a high five from hanamaki

slowly, hesitantly, you moved over to the door, pressing your ear to the surface. through the wood, you could the girls, their high-pitched voices grating at your nerves

“i really fucking hate them,” you grumbled, moving away to sit on the floor beside hanamaki, who wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you leaned against his shoulder. “why did i let you convince me to join this club?”

this was directed to iwaizumi, who had the good idea to look sheepish. oikawa, on the other hand, collapsed down on the floor in front of you and spread out his arms. “because you love us, y/n-chan”

“not you,” you scoffed, poking him in the chest. he pouted

“that’s no way to talk to your childhood friend”

“it is when they have a swarm of jealous fangirls after you”

oikawa looked like he was about to reply, but a clip to the ear by iwaizumi was enough to distract him. he turned to his friend with a cry of outrage, beginning to bicker with the ace

while you would usually tell them to shut up, pull them apart, you couldn’t really be bothered. breaking up fights was for when you were on duty. training hadn’t started yet so you figured you could let them bicker

the second years clashed less than the third years but sometimes you were needed to break up the fights, particularly when kyoutani made a return to the team

while he was away, you had been one of the only ones who checked up on him, always telling him that if he needed to talk, if he was struggling with anything, you would be there

therefore, he had a lot of respect for you, placing you on a similar level to iwaizumi (the only member of the team who could get away with telling him what to do or scolding him angrily)

this meant that, when you appeared in front of him, placing a placating hand on his chest, his hackles would lower and he would back away, though the glare would remain on his face

truth be told, kyoutani was a little bit scared of you suddenly exploding on him, especially after the way you had snapped at him when he had first pulled off a risky play in practice

you had seen red when he had pushed kindaichi out of the way to spike the ball, marching over and grabbing him by the top to drag him away. it was the first time they had ever seen him apologise

while kyoutani respected you, the relationship you had with him was very different with the one you had with the other second years. kyoutani would never invite you to lunch. watari and yahaba on the other hand...

your week is not complete without a lunch with them. you aren’t even sure when you managed to form such a strong friendship with them, but it was likely when you agreed to help them in maths (it’s not yahaba’s strong point and he begged watari to join him)

you are the one responsible for stopping yahaba showing off, particularly when the gym floods with fangirls, most of them there to watch oikawa

he will flip his hair and affect an air very similar to oikawa which will frustrate you to no end. you will drag him off court by the ear, telling him to stop, threatening him with extra conditioning

matsukawa and hanamaki will definitely start snickering at the way his face reddens, focused more on this than the fact that they are meant to be improving their serves

you can always trust watari to help you out, no matter how much you insist that you don’t need it. he is the first to volunteer to help you set up the court, to help you carry the equipment for away games

now, the first years. if iwaizumi is the team dad, you are the mum

you dote on kindaichi and kunimi, trying to keep them away from matsukawa’s and hanamaki’s influence. you don’t want them to be corrupted by the pair. iwaizumi will help you but even he sees little point in stopping the inevitable

kindaichi was very awkward around you at the start. his brain couldn’t comprehend that a pretty girl was talking to him, let alone asking if he was okay, if he needed a drink

eventually, kindaichi relaxes. you are the one he turns to when he has a problem, explaining it all to you. if it involves another team member, you will encourage him to tell them, not wanting there to be fractures in the team. after all, aoba johsai thrives because of their great teamwork

kunimi is, as usual, very relaxed around you

most of the time, he barely acknowledges your fussing, simply waving you away and heading back onto the court to resume practice

however, if he wants to slack off (which he does often), it will be you he makes eye contact with. you know you shouldn’t condone this behaviour but, occasionally, you allow it. he promises he will pull through for the game and you believe him, though you do explain that if he slacks off too much it could mean risking his sport in the starting rotation

your quiet understanding is often what motivates him to keep going. he doesn’t want to disappoint you. plus, he has seen you angry and would rather not be the reason for that

oikawa is intimately familiar with your anger. the boy just seems to do everything possible to piss you off. what angers you most is the apparent disregard for his own health, but you don't take this out on him physically

you and iwaizumi team up to handle him, with both of you favouring a more violent approach (sometimes that's the only way to knock some sense into oikawa's brain)

while iwaizumi will throw either oikawa or various items such as volleyballs at him, you tend to favour a good old-fashioned slap to the back of the head

he always knows you're coming, his whole body tensing at the sound of your footsteps drawing closer to him. oikawa is almost more scared of you than iwaizumi, probably because you are more cold fury than fiery anger

that first night iwaizumi had asked you to stay behind after practice with him, your heart almost broke at the sight of oikawa pushing himself

you saw the sweat, watched him stumble, clutch at his damaged knee... but despite the pain, he kept pushing

as you watched, you grasped iwaizumi's hand, who was tense beside you, needing the physical anchor as much as you

"why does he do this to himself?" you questioned, watching as oikawa pushed up from the floor, landing awkwardly on his feet. still, he kept pushing

iwaizumi didn't bother to answer. the answer was obvious, and you both knew what it was. he needed to get better, for the team, for himself, for revenge

"if he keeps going like that, his knee will be permanently damaged and he can say goodbye to a volleyball career," said iwaizumi, jaw tight. hand still in yours, he marched onto the court

he finally released your hand to grab oikawa by the shirt and yank him away. his voice was a low growl as he spoke, "don't fucking complain. we've been here long enough and you're going home before you regret it"

"you're so... urgh, do you want to make me lose my mind with worry, tooru?" you sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist, more to reassure yourself that he was fine than to other support. he slung an arm over your shoulder, leaning on you slightly with iwaizumi at his other side

"didn't think you cared, y/n-chan," he teased, giving you an affectionate squeeze. you caught eyes with iwaizumi, rolling your own at oikawa's words

"of course i care. we both do"

from that night on, you and iwaizumi took turns watching oikawa, stopping him when it became clear that he was doing too much

on the nights when you had to watch him, you would sit in the corner of the gym on a video chat with matsukawa and hanamaki as you tried to do some homework (to be honest, you spent most of your time joking around and chatting, but the thought was there)

oikawa, though he never showed it, was grateful for you and iwaizumi's worry. it put a check on him which he would never admit to wanting, but needed desperately

on weekends, you and the third years will always meet up, be it to do homework or just watch a movie at someone's house

movie nights tend to be quite messy (it's not uncommon to be picking popcorn out of your hair at the end)

one time, you had fallen asleep on iwaizumi's shoulder only to wake up to his head flopped against yours and a snickering oikawa and hanamaki. the pair had taken great joy in drawing a moustache and beard on your faces, while matsukawa took photos (he's usually the one who takes your group photos and sends them to everyone at the end)

managing the team is mainly fun, though it does have its cursed moments

you weren't ashamed to admit that you cried, along with the rest of the third years, when you left

however, the tears did not stop you from giving your kouhais some strongly-worded advice

yahaba was warned to not think with his dick and to try his very best to not intimidate oikawa in his quest for some fangirls

kyoutani was told that you were only a phone call away and would not hesitate to scold him if he let his anger take control over his playing style

honestly, the only thing you wished watari was luck. he'd need it, especially as there was no manager to support them next year

kunimi you told to slack off less, though you wouldn't hold it against him if he did sneak off for a little nap during the school day so long as he was energised for volleyball

with kindaichi, you simply gave him a hug and told him to keep trying his best, to not beat himself up over every mistake he made

it was oikawa who insisted on a big group hug, pulling you and a rather disgruntled iwaizumi into his arms, the rest of the team happily bundling in

and, as you hugged each other, you were thankful iwaizumi had convinced you to join the team because you knew you had made friends for life

[so-writing]

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (6)

all parts in the master list

I asked who wanted Matt to end up with reader and most people were like “yes but make it hurt” so while I won’t reveal if she ends up with him or not, I will make it hurt! Ya welcome!

--

The kiss was.. unexpected.

Matthew pulled back quickly, out of natural habit, and she immediately did the same, due to his response.

“Oh my god, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking, actually I wasn’t thinking I just-“

“Hey,” he cut her off gently, “relax, you’ve been drinking, it’s no big deal.”

“It kind of is. That was super inappropriate and I don’t know why I did it. I could get in so much trouble.”

She was right. Getting involved with Matthew, not that either of them wanted that, would be a conflict of interest and she could potentially lose her job if the situation wasn’t handled properly.

“Your secret is safe with me, don’t worry.”

He wasn’t sure if her cheeks were rosy from the alcohol or the embarrassment but he allowed himself to find it cute for a minuscule moment before pushing the thought away.

“You know, your assertion that you don’t like me is pretty wobbly now,” he tried to play it off as a joke but when she didn’t say anything for almost a full thirty seconds, confusion set in.

“You don’t, right?”

“No,” she spoke quickly, “I don’t, I just, I don’t, I’m sorry I’m being so weird. It’s the alcohol.”

*

Your head was spinning. What the fuck had you just done? And why?!

“You know, your assertion that you don’t like me is pretty wobbly now.”

Matthew was standing a foot away from you, his piercing blue eyes were staring into your own with that stupid smirk on his face and for a minute you weren’t sure whether or not you could disagree with him.

It had been one of the most tumultuous weeks of your life and you were so close to coming out of it unscathed. That wouldn’t happen now, not after you suddenly gathered all the insane confidence in the world and fucking went and kissed him.

“You don’t, right?”

“No. I don’t, I just, I don’t. I’m sorry I’m being so weird. It’s the alcohol.”

Hopefully he bought it, because if he didn’t there was no other explanation you could offer.

You needed to talk to someone, to vent and air it out and get a different perspective from a fresh set of eyes. You needed your mom.

“I have to go back to the hotel and I have to call someone. It’s kind of a private conversation so will you knock before you come in to let me know you’re back?”

“Uh, sure. Are you okay?”

“No,” you answered honestly.

++

“Hi, honey, you’re calling late, is everything ok?”

“No,” you let the sob that had been trapped in your throat come bursting out, “it’s really fucking not.” 

“What’s going on?” 

Your mother knows who Matthew Tkachuk is. You’ve bitched about him to her probably more times than you can count but she doesn’t expect what you lay out in front of her as you sit on the edge of the bed trying to speak clearly and not cry. 

“I’ve gotta say,” you could hear the smile in her voice, “you really put your foot in it tonight, but maybe this isn’t all bad.”

“Of course it’s all bad, mom, I’m going to get fired.”

“He’s not going to tell anyone.”

“How do you know?”

“He told you so.”

“What do I do here? How do I handle this?” 

“It depends. How do you feel about him, really?”

You didn’t know. You didn’t fucking know. Matthew had spent the entirety of your time working with the Flames, until this week, treating you like you didn’t exist. Since finding out your room assignments he had been pretty much equal parts hot and cold and it was doing your head in. 

There were times he was completely awful to you but sprinkled in with them were the moments where he was apologetic and even a little bit kind. It was then that it hit you. 

He had been cruel to you for years and only in the past week had he shown small spots of kindness and here you were overanalyzing the fuck out of them. You didn’t like him, not in general and definitely not anything deeper than that. The tiny bit of positive attention he was giving you was clouding your head because you’d been single for such a long time and hadn’t had any real male attention in months but you were seeing things clearly now. 

“I don’t feel anything for him, mom.”

“I’m not sure of that.” 

“I am,” a soft knock on the door interrupted your phone call, “I’ve gotta go though, I’ll call you tomorrow on the way home, love you.”

You ended the call and made your way over to the door to unlock the deadbolt and let Matthew in. 

“Holy fuck,” you shouted as his large body collided with your smaller one, sending the two of you crashing to the floor.

“What the fuck Matthew?!”

“Sorry, s-sorry,” he slurred, clearly drunk, “I was leaning on the door, didn’t think you’d open it.”

“Well I did, Jesus Christ,” you shoved him off you and rubbed your burning wrist.

His clumsiness sent him down on top of you with your arm tucked to your side and your wrist took the brunt of fall as it was crushed beneath the two of you.

“Shit, let me see!”

“Matthew, really, I’m fine.” 

“You might not be. I’m not a small guy and we fell hard. Let me check it out.”

You weren’t sure how drunk he was before but it must not have been to severe because he seemed to sober up quickly and the look of concern in his eyes as you babied your wrist was enough for you to let him take a look. 

He was gentle, slowly moving your arm around to get the best look at it. 

“Doesn’t appear to be broken or anything, but you should still talk to someone in medical. I’m obviously no expert.” 

“I’m fine, Matthew, thank you.” 

There was a strained quiet hanging between you as he closed the door and locked it. 

“Who’d you call?” 

Matthew moved away from the door and stripped his shirt, followed by his jeans and you were hit with a flashback of the other day when he did the same thing but this time he knew you were there.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed,” his response was resolute, “who’d you call?”

“Why is that any of your business?” 

Your eyes were trained on his toned stomach and chest as he pulled on a pair of navy pajama pants. 

“It isn’t. I just want to know why you ran for the fucking hills after kissing me and who you so desperately needed to talk to. Also, be less obvious with your eyes.”

That fucking annoying smirk again. You blushed a bit but still managed to roll your eyes at his cockiness.

“Was it an ex? Did that kiss drum up some old shit for you? Realize you missed them even though they’re probably a piece of shit and you know can do better? Turn around, please.” 

You did as he asked, not answering his question, “what are you doing?” 

“Taking my boxers off, they’re uncomfortable.” 

When Matthew gave you the go ahead to turn back around your eyes instantly dropped to his waistline. His pajama pants were now hanging low on his hips, exposing the top of his adonis belt and you knew you needed to look away before he made some shitty comment. 

“Was it an ex?” 

He asked the question a second time and part of you wanted to say yes but what was the point in lying?

“No. It was my mom.” 

“Really? So it’s something that’s fucking with you pretty bad, huh?” 

What the fuck? 

“Why would you say that?”

“We’ve been working together for a while and the only time I can remember you excusing yourself to call your mom was when the Islanders offered you a job with less pay but closer to home.”

“How do you know about that?” 

“I know you’re not exactly friends with me, but you are friends with other people on this team and maybe I asked them about you because maybe I was curious.” 

Don’t fall for it, you told yourself. This was one of those small spots of kindness Matthew had recently started to show you. Now wasn’t the time to lose focus of the bigger picture. 

“It’s nothing serious. I missed my mom, I wanted to call her.”

“You wanted to call her at almost midnight your time, much later her time, after you ran out on me?”

“Yes Matthew,” your tone was clipped, “is that problem?”

“No, no not at all. I get it. I miss my mom, my whole family actually, all the time.” 

You weren’t going to give in and have this conversation with him. Matthew loved his family and was very close with them, it was obvious to anyone who spent even a small amount of time around him. 

“Maybe you should call her,” the words came out more aggressive than you meant, “as far as I know, you haven’t spoken to her at all this week.” 

“I’ve been texting her everyday, actually.” 

If he was offended, he didn’t show it. 

“Well,” you huffed, “good.” 

Matthew was leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door, his whole beautiful torso on display, with a look in his eyes like he wanted to say something. You waited for him to make his move and watched as he opened and closed his mouth three times before finally saying anything.

“You looked good tonight, really, really good.” 

His confession hit you like a semi truck veering off the highway and into a field of sunflowers. Don’t give in, don’t fucking do it, you willed yourself to ignore his comment but when he continued..

“I’ve never seen you like that, so sexy and confident, I’m honestly really fucking blown away by you right now.”

This was not what you expected and as much as you wanted to believe him, you knew this was just another kind kink in his chain of cruelty and you weren’t going to let him get the best of you again. 

“Don’t say things you’ll regret when you’re sober in the morning.”

The silence between the two of you was heavy, neither choosing to say anything until you decided to break the hypothetical glass.

“Early game and even earlier practice tomorrow. You need to sleep, Matt. Come to bed.” 

[whump-a-la-mode]

Uhhh. Ok so I don’t know what this is. It’s certainly not very good. It’s different than what I usually write. I’ll get back to normal stuff soon. I just thought this would be fun.

CW//Pet whump, lab whump, wing whump, medical exams, cages, dehumanization, needle mentions, implied past abuse

Signal hated waiting.

They hated a lot of things. They hated Dr. Natalie Sampson, for one thing.

Actually, that was most of the things they hated. Everything to do with Dr. Sampson. Their lab, their stupid experiments, their exams, or whatever the hell they spent all their time doing. Staring at those screens and hemming and hawing like an idiot.

Signal hated Dr. Sampson, more than anything. And, right at the moment, that was connected very closely to why they hated waiting. As, at the moment, they were specifically waiting for one of the doctor’s medical exams.

They had told them the night before that they were due for another one. Not that it was on a regular schedule or anything, the doctor had simply decided it was time again to shine lights in their eyes and take their blood.

Stupid doctor. Stupid medical exams.

In some small part, Signal wished they didn’t know the exam was coming. Of course, they would have preferred that it didn’t happen at all, but at least then they wouldn’t have to anticipate it. They had spent the whole night trying, without avail, to get some sleep.

They couldn’t stop thinking about what was to come. Being forced onto the exam table and poked and prodded and stuck with needles.

Stupid goddamn doctor!

The thoughts refused to stop overwhelming her, and they knew that there was no point to trying to sleep, then. They got up from her position on the floor, moving to a sitting position, sliding back against the wall. The bars dug into their spine.

That was another thing they hated, they thought, blinking open heavy-lidded eyes.

They hated their cage.

Dr. Sampson always insisted on calling it their ‘room.’ As if it was a cute little bedroom where normal humans got to sleep.

It was a cage. Bedrooms didn’t sit in the corner of laboratories. Bedrooms didn’t have walls made of close-spaced metal bars. Bedrooms didn’t have plastic floors. Even with the padded material covering said floor, it was never exactly comfortable.

Hell, bedrooms had beds! The cage had no such thing, just the mattress-like floor covering. At the very least, the cell had a sort of hiding box, in the corner. That was where Signal sat at the moment-- it was where they generally slept. The only place where the doctor could not see them easily.

Right now, though, the doctor was not here. The lights in the lab had been turned off for the night, leaving Signal feeling safe enough to get up, making their way out of their hiding space, and into the wider cage.

Not that it was exactly big. Ten paces by six, if that. The rest of it was occupied, as well. A sort of modified water fountain in one corner, with the food slot next to it.

In the other corner, Signal had thrown all her ‘toys,’ doing their very best to bury them under the mattress flooring. They didn’t need toys. They were human being, at least partly.

They were human at first glance, at the very least. Two arms, two legs, human face, the works. Hell, they had been a human, at one point. It had been great! They remembered with a sickly sort of nostalgia, how it felt to walk down the street, in public, with other people. Other normal people.

But, then, they had become a ‘specially designated class of protected persons.’ In less fancy words, a human lab rat.

That’s what they were. A lab rat. It was a wonder that Dr. Sampson hadn’t thought to put a hamster wheel in here, too.

The way they looked around the lab, checking for activity, was almost instinctual. They quickly confirmed that there was none-- besides the whirring of computers, running their overnight calculations.

They were safe.

With an aching pain of pins and needles, they shrugged off their outer jacket. Their outer downy feathers pricked up at the sudden change in temperature.

Rolling their shoulders, they let their wings fall from her back. They crackled a moment as they stretched them to their whole length-- a length enough to take up the whole of their cage, if they really tried.

They were a mess. Their wings. Not that they actually belonged to them-- they were just stupid things that had been stuck onto their back one day. Or, grown out of their back. It didn’t matter. Whichever way, they took no ownership of them. They were why they were stuck in here in the first place.

That didn’t mean they couldn’t bemoan the state that had befallen them. At some point, they had started molting, leaving clumps of loose feathers barely hanging on by their tips, crowded out by freshly-grown ones. That didn’t even take into account the dirt, or the fact that her flight feathers were all crutheyd together from having been compressed for so long.

They would clean them if they cared to. But they didn’t. Cleaning their wings wouldn’t get them out of this cage, out of this prison. Out of this lab.

Even though they still ached from prolonged cramps, Signal drew the feathered limbs back into themself. They didn’t want to look at them. By all accounts, they would have been far happier if they would just fall off.

Maybe they could arrange th-

The thought got no time, no chance to continue. The creak of the lab door felt like a gong, striking Signal’s rib cage, followed quickly by the burst of light that burned their corneas.

In a moment, they were back in her hiding spot, as far back in the corner as they could manage. With no gentleness, this time, they snapped her wings to their back.

Their face fell as they peered out of the box, seeing their jacket strewn across the center of the cage. It was the only thing that helped them forget the stupid feathery things stuck onto their back, but there was no way they was going out to get it, now. Dr. Sampson might see them.

“Good morning, Signal.” That stupid cajoling voice sounded, alongside the telltale sound of the doctor slipping on her lab coat. Had the whole night passed already?

Signal did not reply to the greeting. Stupid doctor. They fucking hated them, why would they talk to them?

“Hm.” The doctor hummed in disappointment. “You left your jacket. And a lot of feathers... Signal, are you molting?”

They turned to face the corner of their hiding box, digging their head down into the soft flooring as deep as it could go.

“You must be. Well, let’s get this exam started as soon as possible, then.”

Signal’s stomach dropped to her feet. They shouldn’t have let out their wings, shouldn’t have left the stupid jacket, should have cleaned up their feathers. They could already practically feel the prodding, poking touch, latex gloves jabbing at every inch of their body.

Touching their wings.

There were a few blissful, or perhaps stomach-churning moments, where Dr. Sampson did not speak. Instead, their footsteps sounded, moving about the lab. Picking up and setting down objects. Preparing to torture their little lab rat.

Whether the wait was nice or terrifying, Signal did not know, but they knew exactly when it was over. The sound of a key pushing into a padlock was all it took to make their feathers stand on end. No no no no no-

The door to their cage creaked open. They tried to wipe their tears on the mattress-like floor-- when had they started crying?

As if it mattered.

“Signal. Come here, bud. It’s time for your exam. I told you last night, remember?”

Signal buried their head deeper, nearly cutting off their own breathing.

“Signal.” The doctor’s voice was firmer, this time. Their heart skipped in their chest. “Come here, now.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Their words were muffled, but must have still been clear enough to be heard.

Dr. Sampson let out a sharp sigh.

“I don’t know why you insist on acting this way, Signal. I don’t want to hurt you, you know that. Just because they hurt you doesn’t mean I will.”

“Shut up shut up shut up!”

Another sigh.

“I understand you’re upset. This exam is happening whether you want it to or not, and I’m sorry about that. I know you don’t like it. But you know I can’t get you out of there by myself, and Dr. Crane hates to be interrupt-”

Signal was at the cage door in under a second. They moved quickly enough that they nearly lost her footing, but managed to retain it.

Dr. Sampson smiled.

“That’s more like it. Come on, then.”

Despite their cheery tone, Signal knew they had no choice, especially as the slip leash was pulled over their head and made taut about their neck. Not that the leash was really necessary-- just because they’d tried to escape two dozen times before didn’t mean they’d do it again.

Stupid leash and all, Dr. Sampson led them to the exam table in the middle of the room. A cold, metal thing, with a sort of pole sticking up out of its side. The end of the pole was marked with a hook-- a hook which the slip lead’s end was secured to as Signal climbed onto the table, legs dangling off the side.

It may have been the worst part of the whole ordeal, the stupid metal pole that stopped them from lowering their head.

“Let’s get started, then.” The doctor clapped their hands with far too much cheeriness. “How have you been feeling?”

“I feel like I want to rip your face off.”

“That’s- Unfortunate.” Their lips pursed together. “Let’s try that again. Physically, how are you feeling?”

“Fine. Is that it?” They strained against the leash a moment. “Can I go now?”

“Hm? Oh, no. This exam is going to take at least an hour, honey.”

Signal’s stomach twisted.

“I’ll start with your wings, so we can talk a bit.”

Somehow, those words made them feel even sicker than before. Still, they didn’t resist as latex-clad hands took up one of their wings, unfurling it until it took up half the lab. The touch made them shiver.

“Your flight feathers are coming back in well. It’s terrible, to think that they clipped them like that...”

“As if you wouldn’t do the same.”

“Of course I wouldn’t.” Dr. Sampson spoke through gritted teeth. Signal’s words were getting to them-- at least that was good news. “Signal, why are you upset?”

“That’s pretty vague.”

“You’ve been so stressed out since you got here. I have tried to make you comfortable, but I must say I’m at my wits end.” A touch to a particularly sensitive feather made the winged lab rat flinch. “Are you bored? I can always get you more toys...”

“I don’t want more toys.”

“Are you sick?”

“I’m not sick.”

Signal placed their hands on their legs, gripping them until their fingers went numb.

“Then what is it?”

They hadn’t decided on the best snippy answer to that one, but they did not have to come up with one. Instead, the air was filled with the sound of the door again creaking open.

Signal snapped their wings closed, and began desperately scratching at the slip lead around their neck.

“Oh, Dr. Crane. How are you this morning?”

[sunfleurry]

Inches

Disclaimer: I write stories and use Harry Styles as a face claim. In no way shape or form does my writing reflect how I perceive the actual Harry to be. These are my characters, the face is just a bonus!

A/N: Let me give you some fluff because I’ve posted only angst. Another repost from my old blog because ya girl has no time to write.

She woke up, flinching from the sunlight penetrating the flimsy white curtains. Her movements caused Harry to stir from behind her before he tightened his hold around her waist and kissed the back of her head.

“Good morning,” he said, morning voice making her toes curl.

Smiling, she turned around to face him and squeezed her hand between his head and the pillow, pulling his lips towards hers. “Good morning.”

He closed his eyes and kept her against him for a little longer. “I’m so tired. Let’s stay in bed all day,” he mumbled.

“We can’t, we have plans.”

Sighing, he nodded his head but didn’t move. She liked it when he was like this–relaxed and wholly himself without any stresses of the outside world weighing on him. His naked chest was pressed up against hers and she could almost hear the steady beat of his heart. At that moment, hers ached at how much she loved him. They’d been through so much in the last five years, but they were stronger than ever.

She ran her hands through his hair then paused. “Your hair is getting really long. Almost like you’re twenty-one again.” When he opened an eye to look at her, she said, “I like it.”

He nuzzled his face into her neck and kissed her right there. “I don’t. I need to cut it soon.”

“Shall we cut it?”

“I’m so happy I’m dating a hairstylist.”

“I’m not a hairstylist,” she giggled. “I just learned by cutting my brother’s hair. Poor kid.”

“You’re my hairstylist,” he cooed.

Laughing, she shoved him off her and proceeded to go wash up and get ready for the day.

After breakfast, Harry was sitting on the edge of the bathtub with towels surrounding him on the ground while she laid out a pair of scissors and a comb on the counter next to him.

She ran her hands through his wet hair and pointed at the mirror. “Alright, H, take it in. This is the last time you see yourself with this length for a while.” 

Harry brought his fist to his mouth and bit his knuckle, dramatically wincing at his reflection. “I don’t know if I’ll recognize myself after this.”

Rolling her eyes and stifling a smile, she clipped the back of his head. “Stop being so dramatic.”

He laughed, rubbing the part where she hit him. “You can start now before you give me a concussion.”

She climbed into the bathtub to stand behind him and started brushing his wet hair, clipping neat sections out of the way. She could see how her ministrations relaxed Harry through the mirror–his eyes were closed and he had a small content smile on his lips. She couldn’t help but give him a kiss on the cheek before she started cutting the hair on the back of his head.

As she got to the sides, Harry hummed when pieces of hair fell in front of him but didn’t say anything. He liked that she enjoyed cutting his hair and it also helped that she was good at it. He was admiring her through the mirror–her hair in a mess at the top of her head and her glasses perched a little too far down on her nose. She was wearing his white t-shirt that was big on her but not too big–as it only fell a quarter way to her knees–and peeking from underneath was her ridiculously expensive cotton shorts from her favourite lingerie store. The sight was one of many that he’d committed to memory and stowed away in his mind to look back on when he was away for work again.

A few minutes later, she stepped over the tub again and proceeded to push his knees apart in order to squeeze herself in between his legs.

Harry raised his eyebrows at her. “You’re a little handsy today. If you wanted to be between my legs, you just had to ask and I–”

“Oh, piss off,” she slapped his thigh, “or else I’ll give you one inch bangs.”

He gasped and brought a hand to his mouth, pretending to zip it up and throw away an imaginary key.

As she cut his hair, he had to hold back a stupid smile at the furrow in eyebrows. He found her concentration to be cute. She shivered slightly when he rested his palms against the back of her legs and slid them up her thighs to cup the skin right underneath her butt.

“I’m going to mess up if you keep this up,” she mumbled.

“I trust you.”

“You really shouldn’t.”

“I can’t wait to marry you.”

Before she was even able to register his words, her body reacted in shock and accidentally cut a part of his bangs clean off.

Her gasp caught Harry’s attention and he looked up only to see his girlfriend staring wide-eyed at him with a big chunk of hair held in her fist.

“What did you just say?”

“Did you just mess up my hair?” He tried to look at the mirror behind her, but she blocked his vision.

“Harry–”

Giving up, he cupped her face in his palms. “Of course I want to marry you, love. Don’t you?”

“Of course,” she breathed.

“Well then,” Harry smiled and backed up to look at the hair in her hands. “This is definitely not a part of the haircut is it?”

She gave him a sheepish smile and slid her arms around his neck to surreptitiously drop the hair in the bathtub behind him. “No, it looks fine,” she eyed the gap between two long pieces of hair, “it’s fine.”

Harry knew she was trying to convince herself, but he wasn’t mad. Frankly, it was his fault for dropping that bomb on her while holding a pair of scissors to his hair.

She kissed him once. “It’ll grow back.” Kissed him again. “You’re still the handsomest.”

“Am I now?”

She pulled him in for a deeper kiss. “Always,” she mumbled against his lips.

Harry couldn’t contain himself anymore. He wrapped his arms around her waist and stood up, holding her against him in the process. He carried her to their room then laid her down on the bed.

“I don’t believe you,” he laughed.

“Gross, Harry, you’re getting hair all over the bed! You could’ve at least brushed it off.”

“If you doubted I ever loved you before, just know the fact that I’m still so enamoured even after you’ve ruined my precious hair should prove you wrong.”

He looked funny with his hair gracefully falling onto his forehead–a generous chunk missing. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. She burst into laughter, tears running down her face, yet she still managed to squeeze in “I’m sorry” between each round of laughter. He soon joined her and jumped on top of her, almost making them both fall off the bed. This resulted in more hysterics.

A few minutes later, after having calmed down, Harry laid on his back with her head resting against his chest and her arm wrapped around his waist. They were both catching their breaths from the fit they just had.

He whispered her name.

“Yeah?”

“I was supposed to ask you at dinner tonight, but I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

She sat up on her knees and peered at him quizzically.

“Stay here,” he quickly said.

Before she could answer, he got up and disappeared inside their shared walk-in closet then re-emerged with a velvet box tucked in his hand.

When she caught sight at what he held, it felt like emotions flooded in her bloodstream and spread through every inch of her body. Shock, elation, love.

He climbed back on the bed and faced her, catching sight of her silver-lined eyes. He resisted the urge to reach for her face to catch the tears that he knew were about to fall any second.

“I love you. I loved you before we started dating, I loved you when I asked you to be my girlfriend and I loved you when I asked you to move in with me. I love everything about you, from the way you can’t help but sing along to every single song you hear, even the ones you don’t know the lyrics to, to the way you eat the crust of your sandwiches first, before eating the rest of it. I love you so much that I have no doubt in my mind that when we’re nothing but memories left on this earth, my soul will continue to love you. I can’t spend another day without seeing a ring that I gave you on your finger, so I have to ask you this: My love, will you marry me?”

She was speechless, but that didn’t mean she was paralyzed. Without a second thought, she threw herself at him and he caught her .He held her against his chest and stroked her hair as she nodded furiously, and when her chest heaved with sobs, he tried soothing her with his words. He couldn’t suppress the smile gracing his features at the realization that she’d agreed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he hummed, “please don’t cry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m just so happy,” she sniffled, looking up at his eyes.

“So, is that a yes?”

“Even though we’re wearing barely anything and there’s a large chunk of hair missing from your head?” She laughed through her sobs.

Harry grinned.

“Of course, I’ll marry you, you idiot.”

He slid a hand behind her neck and pulled her in to kiss her with as much passion he can muster up. She pulled him closer, muttering “I love you” between each kiss.

After what felt like forever, they pulled away and he slid the ring on her shaking hand. And for the rest of the day, they changed their minds and decided to stay in. They stayed in and spent their time showing each other how much they loved one another with not only their words, but with their bodies, accompanied by a gorgeous diamond which sealed their future together.

[jamaisjoons]

the dragon’s princess ⤑ jhs | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:  with your mother’s death, and your father remarrying, came your abandonment in a tower - under the pretence that you’d be saved by a prince when you were older. now, it’s been over a decade and the princes come in droves to save you from the dragon that guards you. but you don’t want a charming prince. no. you prefer sweet ferocious dragons. one sweet, ferocious dragon in particular. fantasy au. royalty au. fairytale au. childhood friends to lovers au.

⟶ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: dragon shifter!hoseok x princess!reader

⟶ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst • fluff • smut

⟶ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 23.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: child abandonment, fairytale cliches: evil stepmother, abandoned princess, protective dragons and saviour princes, mentions of violence/action, mentions of death, brief descriptions of drowning (v v brief), alcohol consumption, soft dom!hoseok, sub!reader, slight body worship, hoseok, of course, has a dragon cock, hoseok is a tease, fingering,  unprotected sex,  first time sex + virgin sex, marking/mating, creampie, kidnapping,  reader makes reckless decisions (DON’T randomly jump out a window in a spur of a moment decision)

⟶ 𝑎/𝑛: LOOK IT’S A SEXY COMEBACK!! hello ladeez n gentlenutz, I have missed you all! It’s been SO long since i’ve written (only 3 months really but it feELS LONGER) so anyway, here we are!! I hope you enjoy!! dedicated to miss bette aka peanut aka @ddaenggtan​, i love and appreciate u so much okay thank you xxx

❥ thank you to @honeymoonjin​, @hobisbeautifulass​, @shadowsremedy​ and @jungtaeyoongles​ and of course miss bette, but you’ve already been tagged uwu, for being sweet babies and reading this and giving me the much needed validation to keep me inspired and writing this fic, i love u sexy losers

❥ happy birthday to my love, my sunflower, my king jung hoseok. i love u to the end of the worlds and further

⏤ part of the @ficswithluv​ ‘The Luv Library’ project

Your footsteps crunch along the ground as you make your way back to the tower you’ve called your home for the past decade. Leaves crackle under the soles of your sandals, the sound entwining with the gentle rustle of the trees as the soothing cacophony of sounds eases your soul. A soft wind flitters past, the light gale wisping through your hair, causing a few strands to dance in the squall. It shouldn’t take you long to reach home - you’d only been out foraging and hunting for supper. A victorious smile creeping onto your face, your eyes glance down at the wicker basket nestled next to your hip, the handle resting in the crook of your elbow.

An array of mixed berries, fruits and vegetables sit in the basket, nestled next to the cloth-covered slab of boar meat - and a few different herbs stalks taking up the rest of the space. Your grin widens as you silently praise yourself over your success. The boar meat especially gets you excited - it’s Hoseok’s favourite. Once again, you internally cheer, as you imagine the inevitable look of excitement on your dragon’s face when you tell him about your catch. Boar meat was rare to come by - well, somewhat rare - considering it was a fool’s folly to hunt for one without someone to accompany you. However, today, you’d managed to stumble across an injured one and tried your luck - and as it turned out, your luck had won out. Though, you do chalk most of it down to Seokjin’s archery training. The elf had tried his hardest to impart onto you some of his skill; and apparently, he’d been successful, since you’d managed to skewer the boar with one, well placed shot to the head, consequently putting it out of its misery.

You continue your way back home, practically moving on muscle memory alone - you’d walked this same path more times than you could count - the trek ingrained into the soles of your feet. The dense thicket of trees, while almost identical to each other, doesn’t confuse you as they used to and you find yourself easily navigating through the forest. It doesn’t take you long to reach home, and moments later, you approach the giant tower nestled within the dense canopy of the enchanted forest.

Taking a deep breath, you bite your lip before quickening your steps, more than excited to get dinner started. One small glance at the sky lets you know that dusk will soon approach, the sun low in the sky, casting its darkened luminescence across the forest floor. Nearing the heavy wooden door, you take in its appearance. The dark wood has faded over time, greyed from its rich cherrywood colour to a duskier oak colour. Thick clusters of moss have settled into the grooves of the bark, blanketing the hardwood in a layer of soft fuzz. Large grey slabs of stone surround the door, making up the walls of the tower and vines of ivy and honeysuckle creep along the sides, brightening up the dull grey with its vivid emerald foliage and vibrant chromatic petals.

Once, long ago, the tower seemed daunting to you. Of course it had, with its towering stature and imposing appearance. You could remember it somewhat fuzzily, despite it being so long ago. When the knights had first dropped you off, you’d only been seven years old, and you’d no idea what had been going on. Back then, the tower had seemed daunting - of course, it had, you were just a child. Vaguely, you remember the knight who had escorted you into the forest - his sweeping blonde hair and wary green eyes burned into the back of your mind - and still, you can hear his voice, almost hesitant as he thrust the small basket of food into your hands before telling you this would be your new home, and that he was sorry. Then, you didn’t really know what he’d been apologising for - now you do - he was apologising for being the one to have abandoned you.

From the hazy images in your memory, you have a vague recollection of why you’d been left here: your stepmother had convinced your father to abandon you, after your mother’s death, under the impression that you would be saved by a prince - your knight in shining armour. You had expected your father to fight for you, but distraught by the death of your mother, and your face only a cruel reminder of her, he’d agreed to his wife’s wishes, and thus, you’d been whisked away into the enchanted forest that bordered your kingdom.

The moment the knight had left, jumping onto his white stallion before riding back out, you’d called out to him - begged him to take you back with him - but your pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Scared, you’d retreated into the dark tower, its tall walls looming over your small frame as you desperately cried out for your father. In the blackened room, with the sun setting, you had feared for your life, curling into a ball and crying into your hands as you wished for someone to come help you.

And someone had.

In the most unlikely of forms.

Twelve years ago

You watch in panic and despair as the knight rides off on his horse; the stallion’s mane fluttering in the wind beside him. The clip-clop of the horse’s gallop soon fades, leaving you in the quiet forest. Terror immediately floods through your being as you look around the forest for any signs of life. There isn’t any. You’re completely alone. Looking at the wicker basket of food next to you, your bottom lip juts out, trembling as tears well in your eyes. You’re all alone.

Picking up the basket, you waddle into the tower, the dimness of the room only illuminated by thick beams of waning sunlight that filtered in through the sparse and sporadically carved out arched windows in the walls. Walking over to one of the corners, you slowly sit down, looking at the tower fearfully. The knight had said this was your new home - but you don’t want it to be your new home. You wanted your old home. Nothing about this tower feels like home; it’s dark, dreary and crushingly isolated.

Though, loneliness is something you’re used to.

Ever since your mother died, you’ve been lonely. Distraught by the death of his first wife, your father had sequestered himself from you and thrown himself into his kingly duties, leaving you completely alone. Then, mere months after your mother’s untimely departure, your father had remarried and your loneliness had only increased as you watched your father and stepmother rule the kingdom.

Curling up into a ball, you pull your knees up to your chest, your chin resting between the kneecaps. Sobs fill the air, your quiet whimpers floating through the atmosphere; the broken cries juxtaposed against the eerie quiet of the forest and the solitude of the tower. The sun slowly sets over the horizon, the dusky colours of twilight blackening the sky in darkened shades of gold, mauve, and lavender. With each second that passes by, the tower grows darker, the chill of the evening wind slowly setting into your bones as you start to shiver.

All of a sudden, you hear the crunching of twigs and the crackling of dried out leaves. The hair on the back of your neck stands on their ends, your skin prickling with goosebumps - and not from the cold. Instantly, you stifle your sobs, low whimpers escaping your mouth, even as you try to muffle them. Footsteps shuffle closer, a heavy presence lingering in the air as you try to curl tighter into a ball, attempting to make yourself as small as possible.

The footsteps move closer and soon you hear the door to the tower creak open. Palpitating heavily in your chest, all you can hear is your heartbeat thundering - so loud it feels like it's right beside your eardrums. A high pitch whimper escapes your lips, wondering if it's an animal or one of the forest creatures who’ve come for you.

“Are you okay?” a voice calls out, shock evident in the voice. You let out a small whine, curling tighter into yourself. The newcomer grows quiet, a tense silence thickening the atmosphere. You try to stay as quiet as possible, hoping whoever it is will leave you alone.

“Are you all alone?” the voice asks this time. You freeze, your heart still beating rapidly in your chest, even as confusion seeps into your skin. The voice is timid and slightly wary, but it’s sweet and high-pitched - almost comforting. With great trepidation, you slowly lift your head, only to come face to face with a young boy standing in the doorway of the tower. Blinking owlishly, you stare at him blankly.

Quietly, and warily, you take him in - your eyes trailing over his features. He looks fairly human - with lithe limbs, and soft features: rounded, ample cheeks and a gently sloping jaw - both juxtaposed by a sharp, pointed nose. His hair is dark in colour, and though he’s silhouetted by the sunset, you note the russet tinge to his hair, his locks falling gently to frame his forehead. If you didn’t know better, you’d consider him human - if it weren’t for his eyes. They’re a light yellow-hued hazel, almost glowing in the darkroom of the tower, and the pupils are slit vertically. A ripple of fear shoots through you, and you shuffle further back against the wall, keeping your wary eyes steady on him.

“Why are you here? Do you need some help?” the boy asks again. He moves to step closer to you, one hand reaching towards you. However, his actions cause you to immediately stiffen. Noticing your muscles tense, the boy immediately stills before retreating - but not before throwing his hands up in surrender.

“I just want to help. I heard you crying. Are you here alone?” he repeats once again. Hesitantly, you nod, answering him this time. The boy bites his lip, his eyes drooping slightly in sadness.

“I can help you if you want? I live here - in this tower I mean. I’m Hoseok,” he introduces, pushing the door wider open before fully entering the room. Once again, you stiffen slightly but Hoseok does his best to stay away from you, giving you space as he flits about his tower. You watch his every movement, keeping your distrustful eyes on him. He turns to a small window carved out into one of the walls, his nose crinkling in distaste as he takes in the darkening sky.

“It’s gonna be very dark soon. But don’t worry! I have some candles!” Hoseok says cheerily, sending a smile your way. You watch as he walks to the wall, staring up at the rusted iron candle fittings several feet above his head. Tilting your head to the side curiously, you wonder how he’s going to light the candles - they’re far too high for him to reach. Noticing your curiosity and slight skepticism, he sends you a cheeky smile, and then all of a sudden, his cheeks puff out.

Your eyes widen as he releases a strong puff of breath, fire shooting out of his mouth in a strong stream - almost like a flamethrower. The jet of flames bursts through the air, dowsing the candle in its fire before lighting the wick. It’s a miracle the candle wax doesn’t melt into a puddle. You stare at him in awe, watching as he repeatedly blows puffs of fire, lighting up the entire tower in a bright amber glow, the residual heat of his fiery breath tingling over your chilled skin. Hoseok turns back to you, a look of absolute victory on his face, his eyes slitted into little half-moons and cheeks pulled under them as the eyelids crinkle in the corner. You don’t notice any of it - instead completely in awe of the suddenly bright room.

“Did you like that?” Hoseok asks, causing you to nod, still completely starstruck over his display of power. Sensing that you’re slightly less wary, Hoseok quietens down before levelling his curious gaze at you. You watch him quietly, still curled up into a ball as you wonder what he’s thinking. Then - he slowly approaches. Your eyes widen, fear once again gripping at you - but he moves slowly, one step at a time, so as not to scare you.

“Are you feeling better now?” Hoseok asks timidly; his gaze briefly flicks to your tear-stained cheeks before returning it to your own gaze. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you nod hesitantly. You do feel slightly better - though, fear, confusion, and sadness still linger around you. You’re alone now - abandoned by your family and left in this isolated tower to fend for yourself. Well, not so alone - you think, momentarily glancing at Hoseok.

Then, almost as if reading your mind, “Are you alone here?” Hoseok asks, echoing your thoughts. Muscles locking, you shrink into yourself before once again nodding. “Why?”

Shrugging, “My parents don’t want me anymore,” you reply quietly, tears brimming in your eyes. The rustle of fabric fills the air as Hoseok squats down to your level, looking at you with wide, bewitching hazel eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok replies gently - nothing but truth evident in his eyes. Eyebrows furrowing, you cock your head to the side, but before you can ask why he’s sorry, he continues, “but it’s okay - because you’re not alone. I’m here now!” The words fall out of his mouth easily, a bright grin on his face, his lips pulled into the shape of a heart. Instantly, your heart soars, hope blooming inside your chest. You should know better than to trust strangers, your father had taught you that much - but your father had also been the one to abandon you - and you were desperate for someone, anyone, to relieve the ache of loneliness that you’d gotten so used to.

“I’m ____,” you finally introduce yourself, “I’m… I was a princess,” you continue, before your voice trails off. Hoseok only grins in response. Then, he stands back up before holding out his hand for you. His palms are small, chubby little fingers sticking out. You look at it intently, as if it held all the secrets to the world.

“Well, ____, I’m a dragon! And from now on, I’m gonna be your dragon! I’ll protect you!” Hoseok promises, his voice full of conviction and promise.

Then, he grabs your smaller hand in his and pulls you up to your feet.

The memory fades from your mind, a fond smile on your face. That night, Hoseok had cooked you some herbal broth, made from the different plants he’d foraged in the forest. You remember it being extremely bitter, borderline inedible, and nothing like the food you’d gotten in the castle - but you hadn’t minded. No, because the entire time you’d watched the nine-year-old painstakingly bend over a pot, with a fire he kept going himself, just to cook you a meal - despite being a mere two years older than you, having no culinary experience and only needing to feed himself before. Back then, and even now, you appreciated the gesture. It had meant the world to you.

Not to mention, that for the first time since your mother died, you hadn’t felt so lonely. Hoseok had been a blessing - one you had desperately wished for every night since your mother’s death and your father’s abandonment. In every way, shape, and form, he’d crushed your loneliness, giving you much-needed company, friendship - and not to mention, a family; because the next day, he’d introduced you to his friends, the different creatures of the forest.

“____? Wake up! I want you to meet some people!” Hoseok’s high-pitched voices calls out. With a soft groan, you awaken from your slumber. Opening your eyes, you come face to face with the boy you’d only just met yesterday. His kind eyes smile at you, his lips pulled into a cheery grin.

“What?” you groggily ask.

“Come meet my friends!” Hoseok says cheerily. Your eyes widen, nervousness colouring your veins. Hoseok’s friends? It shouldn’t sound as daunting as it is - but it does - because you’ve never met them before. What if they don’t like you? What if they get Hoseok to leave you? What if you’re left alone again? The thought terrifies you - you’ve only known Hoseok for a short while, but you were already coming to rely on him - he was your first friend after all.

“Oh! Here! There was food in your basket - have some breakfast,” Hoseok says, thrusting out a little loaf of bread and some cheese towards you. Blinking owlishly, your sleep fogged mind reels slightly. Nevertheless, the smell of the food has your stomach rumbling, and graciously you accept Hoseok’s offering - but not before breaking the loaf and handing him some. Hoseok looks at you in surprise, but takes the food from you nonetheless.

“Come on then! They’re waiting to meet you,” Hoseok says before holding out his hand for you. With trepidation, you place your smaller hand in his; and despite your fear, you decide to trust Hoseok - because he’s all you have now.

The two of you wander through the tower, down the spiral steps until you’re back at the entrance. With each step, your nervousness grows, your palms turning clammy as you grip Hoseok’s hand tighter. “Are you okay?” Hoseok asks, his slightly pointed ears twitching as he hears your heartbeat quicken. Taking a deep breath, you swallow thickly before nodding.

“I’m okay,” you manage to squeak out. Hoseok’s head cocks slightly, looking at you in uncertainty, however, you squeeze his hand to reassure him, causing him to squeeze back.

“Let’s go then. I promise they’re nice,” Hoseok whispers quietly before opening the door and guiding you out.

Instantly, sunlight floods through the door, your eyes squinting immediately as you try to adjust to the bright light. Once your eyes have adjusted, Hoseok leads you past a dense brush of bushes and down a covertly hidden, narrow path. You both walk for a couple of minutes before you find yourselves at a little clearing nestled in the middle of the woods. From just past the clearing, you can hear raucous laughter and happy chattering, a particularly thick bush acting as a barrier between you and Hoseok’s friends.

It only takes a couple of moments for Hoseok to peel apart the bush, creating a narrow path for you to walk through - and then, you’re greeted by six young boys. Two boys are running around the riverbank that cuts through the glade, another boy floating in the river as he happily splashes the two boys chasing each other. Another one is happily resting on a tree branch, his eyes closed and little snores escaping his nose as he naps. The last two boys are sat on a boulder, simply watching over the rest of the boys: observing them. Welcomed by the sight of the six unknown boys, you can’t help but cower behind Hoseok, hiding most of your body behind his slightly taller one as you peer in curiosity over his shoulder.

The first person to notice the two of you is one of the boys on the boulder. As soon as he stands up, your eyes grow wide - he looks to be a couple of years older than even Hoseok, but still pretty young, yet he stands tall - much taller than you and Hoseok - and straight. He’s dressed in brown leather, with a bow and quiver full of arrows strapped to his back. Stalking over to the two of you, he draws the attention of all the other boys, except the sleeping one.

“Hi! Welcome to the enchanted forest,” the tall boy greets, a friendly smile on his face. His hair is dark, framing his face and his bright amber eyes are kind. “I’m Seokjin, it’s nice to meet you,” he introduces. Ducking your head, you shyly curtsey to him, not knowing how else to greet him. Your gesture causes Seokjin to chuckle, Hoseok frowning before stepping further in front of you, levelling a glare on the older boy. Noticing his protectiveness, Seokjin simply laughs at the dragon.

“She’s here!” the boy in the river cries. Instantly, the two on the riverbank stop chasing each other. You watch from over Hoseok’s shoulder as the two boys start running towards you - but they’re not what has most of your attention. No, it’s the boy from the river. You watch as he pulls himself onto land, your eyes widening it awe at the tail attached to his torso. However, it doesn’t last long - because the moment it touches land, they transform into legs. Eyes glued to him, you’re completely intrigued by how he stands up before approaching you slowly with shaky legs and you can’t help but giggle over how adorable he is. Suddenly, one of the boys turns around and quickly walks over to him, letting the merman lean on him as the two of them approach you.

“Hi! I’m Jimin, it’s nice to meet you,” Jimin introduces, reaching you first, the other two still walking slowly, the merman’s wobbly legs strengthening slightly with each step they take. You turn your attention to Jimin. He’s around your height, with adorable puffy cheeks, warm rose-pink eyes, pale blonde hair, and pointed ears. Noticing your gaze, currently glued to his ears, Jimin smiles brightly. “Have you never seen a nymph before?” he asks. Blushing at being caught staring, you shake your head but mumble out an apology. “It’s alright! We haven’t seen a human this close either!” Jimin replies easily, nonchalance laced in his voice.

“That’s Namjoon - he’s a griffin,” Jimin says, pointing towards the boy still sitting on the boulder. He watches you intently, his honey, eagle eyes trained on you as his white-feathered, pointed ears stand erect, perched on the top of his head, between his platinum-white hair. His gaze slightly unnerves you, causing you to shrink further behind Hoseok.

“Joon! Stop that,” Hoseok growls out, snapping at the other boy. Namjoon blinks owlishly before blushing sheepishly.

You watch as he rubs the back of his head before cocking his head to the side. “Sorry,” Namjoon mumbles under his breath.

“You’ll get used to him. He’s really nice, he’s just wary of new people,” Seokjin whispers conspiratorially in your ear.

“Yeah, don’t worry, we’re all nice I promise,” Jimin says, popping up on your either side. Both their actions cause you to jump suddenly. When did they sneak up beside you? Noticing you jerk, they both apologise before stepping back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Seokjin and Jimin call out at once, before backing off.

“Ignore them, they’re all just excited to meet you. I’m Yoongi by the way,” comes out a new, unfamiliar voice. Your gaze moves to the boy on the tree - except now, he’s fully awake. Perched on the tree, he simply looks at you through his pale pink locks; his emerald-green eyes glowing so vibrantly that you can see them even with the distance between the two of you.

“Guys! Stop it, you’re scaring her!” Hoseok whines, stomping his little foot.

“It’s okay Hoseok! They’re just being nice,” you quickly call out, shaking your head at him - not wanting to offend his friends. As overwhelming as it is meeting them, they seem friendly enough - not to mention that none of them seem to dislike you, putting you more at ease. Finally, the last two boys appear. One of them, the smaller of the two, has bright red, almost orange toned hair, glowing in the sunlight: almost as if he’s on fire. The second, slightly taller one - the merman - has dark blue hair paired with icy blue eyes.

“I’m Taehyung! This is Jungkook!” the blue-haired merman greets you, smiling brightly, even as he leans heavily on the smaller boy - who you now know to be Jungkook. “I’m a merman,” Taehyung says proudly, a bright smile on his face.

Teal eyes flashing in annoyance, “And I’m a phoenix!” Jungkook butts in, pouting slightly when the older boy doesn’t introduce him before elbowing him in the rib playfully. Taehyung, however, only laughs him off.

Heart gripping, you can’t help but be jealous of the interaction. You’ve never had friends you could play with like that. Suddenly, Taehyung jerks slightly, his knees buckling under his weight. Before he can fall, Seokjin and Jimin’s hands instantly reach out for him, steadying the merman. The brief action only causes your chest to tighten. Is that what having friends was like? “Are you okay?” you blurt out, looking at Taehyung’s wobbly legs worriedly. The merman blinks at you before letting out a sheepish, boxy smile.

“Uh… Yeah... it’s just a little weird - I’m not used to having legs. But Hoseok couldn’t stop talking about you this morning and we all wanted to meet you!” Taehyung replies. You look up at Hoseok curiously, the younger boy’s cheeks tinging pink as he looks away, rubbing the back of his head shyly.

“Don’t tell her that… it’s embarrassing,” Hoseok mumbles under his breath. You stare at him for a couple of moments before letting out a little giggle. The boys look at you in surprise as you laugh, before turning to each other in confusion. You can’t help yourself, however, because as strange as the experience is, you find yourself happier than you’ve been in a long time. You’ve never been surrounded by this many children before. Back when you were a princess, you didn’t have any friends - only the children of dukes and duchesses to play with; and even they would only visit every so often, when their parents had business with yours.

“____?” Hoseok asks, poking your cheek as he tries to get your attention. Biting your lip, you greet them all with a bright smile - a real one. You smile so wide, it hurts your cheeks, but you can’t help yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you all! I’m ____, I hope we can be friends,” you blurt out without thinking. Silence fills the air for a couple of moments causing you to bite your lips. Had you made a mistake? Deflating slightly, you shrink under their blank stares, their curious gaze focused intently on you. Had you done something wrong in your excitement? Was asking to be their friend too much? Would Hoseok leave you now?

The silence stretches on for what seems like an eternity - but in reality, it is only a couple of moments. Then, all of a sudden, it’s broken by a chorus of laughter. Your eyes widen as all the boys begin chuckling. Fearing the worst, your fists clench into the skirt of your dress, balling the material as you hold it tightly.

“Yeah! Let’s be friends. For a long time,” the boys all chime in, bright smiles on their faces. Even Namjoon chimes in, his once wary gaze softening as he looks at your small, frightened frame. The moment those words fall from their lips, your heart soars, your chest lifting as happiness blooms within you.

Friends. You have friends.

Drawn out of your musings, you blink in surprise at your surroundings. Somehow, you’d moved on muscle memory alone - and now, were by the firepit in the room that served as both your kitchen and dining room in the tower. Except, you hadn’t just moved to this room on muscle memory, you’d also somehow managed to begin cooking dinner. Blinking in confusion at the cut-up vegetables and meat, you simply shake your head. Turning to the pot hanging over the firepit, the vessel already filled with the water, you add in the vegetables and meat before haphazardly throwing in the herbs for the stew. However, without Hoseok, you’re unable to light the fire under the pot, which means you have to go find him.

You turn to one of the windows, your eyes narrowing when you realise it’s going to be dark soon. Yet, Hoseok still isn’t home. Eyebrows furrowing, you decide that perhaps it may be worth looking for him. You have a while for the stew to cook anyway - and there are only a few places Hoseok could be - that is - if he’s nearby. Grabbing your cloak to shield you from the evening chill, you wrap it around your shoulders before making your way up the tower. Briefly, you stop in your room, wondering if Hoseok was in there. He isn’t - and travelling a little further up, you know he’s not in his own room either.

With a sigh of frustration, you descend back down the stairs, checking each room of the tower for any signs of your best friend. He’s not in any of them, which means he’s either in his den or in the Goblin’s Glade - the little clearing where you and your friends hang out. You decide to try the den, considering it’s a little closer than the meadow. Exiting the tower, you head off in the direction you know Hoseok’s den to be in.

You remember the first time you’d found out Hoseok had a secret den - you’d heard the stories of course, about dragons and their dens - and how they would steal treasures from people to horde in their nests. You hadn’t believed any of them, especially since Hoseok had never shown any tendency for hoarding - nor had you ever seen a den. Until he’d disappeared one day - when you were twelve years old.

Seven years ago

“Hobi?” you call out, wandering through the tower as you scour the area for your draconic best friend. Small pout marring your face, your eyebrows scrunch as he’s nowhere to be found. Leaving the confines of the tower, you look around the clearing for any signs of the copper-haired dragon.

“Hobi?!” you shout once again, your voice carrying through the forest.

“____, what’s up?” a voice suddenly asks. Jumping, you let out a shriek before turning to the newcomer. Namjoon hovers over you, his large eagle wings spanning around him as he glides on the air.

“Namjoon! Don’t do that!” you cry out, sending him a scowl. The older boy simply laughs at you before gracefully landing on the ground. Or at least, it would have been a graceful landing - if he hadn’t been Namjoon, because in classic Namjoon fashion, the moment his feet land, he almost trips. “Will you ever stop being so clumsy?” you tease, cocking your hip to the side and placing your hands on them.

Namjoon sneers at that, dusting himself off, “One day! I’m still getting used to them you know,” he mutters under your breath. You let out a little giggle at his words. It had surprised you that the forest creatures weren’t born with every one of their attributes - no instead, they slowly came into them over time - kind of like their own version of adulthood. Sure, they were born with some fantastical features - like their eyes, or ears - but the rest usually came with age. Seokjin had fully come into his elven self, and thus his magic, when he’d turned fourteen - three years after you had met him, and Yoongi had fully transitioned into a dryad the year after Seokjin’s.

Namjoon, however, had only come into his wings a month ago, when he’d turned fourteen. Briefly, you wonder when Hoseok would change. So far, he still looked mostly human - if it weren’t for his draconic eyes. “Thinking about Hoseok?” Namjoon asks, a cheeky grin on his face as his dimple indent. Instantly, your face heats before you playfully smack him. Or at least, you attempt to - but Namjoon sees it coming, his eagle eyes catching the movement instantaneously and allowing him to dodge.

“Does the wittle pwincess still have a wittle cwush on Hobi Hobi?” Namjoon teases as he reaches out to pinch your cheeks. Batting his hands away, his words cause your cheeks to heat further.

“Sh-shut up! It’s not like that!” you screech in indignation. Namjoon lets out a little tut before looking at you impishly.

“If you say so, Princess,” he sing songs.

“Stop calling me that!” you scowl, stomping your foot while letting out a huff.

“Okay, okay! Anyway, why were you calling out for Hoseok?” Namjoon asks, looking at you curiously. Cheeks still flushed, your nose scrunches as you remember why you left the tower.

“I can’t find him, do you know where he is?” you ask, cocking your head to the side, your previous ire completely forgotten. Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow in worry.

“Was he not in the tower? He’s not with any of us. Jimin, Tae and Kook are playing in the Merfolk Mangroves and Seokjin and Yoongi went to the forest edge for a walk. I was reading in my nest when I heard you calling out for Hoseok,” Namjoon replies. Hearing that, your eyebrows only furrow further in confusion.

“But- he told me he was staying with you last night? He was supposed to be back this morning, but he hadn’t shown up. It’s afternoon now, so he should have been back,” you inform. The look of shock and slight unease on Namjoon’s face worries you. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

“He wasn’t with me last night,” Namjoon replies. Your eyes widen slightly, heart thundering in your chest. Had Hoseok lied to you? Seeing the worry evident on your face, Namjoon reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay, I can track him,” Namjoon says. Biting your lip, you nod your head, watching as Namjoon begins sniffing the air for Hoseok’s scent.

“He’s… he’s close?” Namjoon says, confusion laced in his voice. Namjoon gestures towards you to follow him as he begins walking behind the tower. You follow him through the thicket of trees, Namjoon sniffing the air every now and then as he tracks his friend.

Eventually, you reach a small hollowed-out cave. Your head cocks to the side as you take it in. Trees grow out of the rocks, the roots entwining around the boulders that form the entrance to the cave. Vines of ivy hang down around the entrance as iridescent mushrooms and flowers bloom around the bark that surrounds the cave. Moss blankets almost every other inch of the cave, the plush, vibrant foliage cushioning the rough terrain of the rock.

“He’s in there - and I think I hear snoring,” Namjoon says. His words confuse you - why would Hoseok be sleeping in there? Especially when he has his own room in the tower you both live in. Sure, the tower isn’t the epitome of comfort, but surely it would be better than a cave. “You wanna go in?” Namjoon asks. Taking a deep breath, you nod. Hoseok had never hidden from you before, you’ve lived together for five, almost six years now - you didn’t keep secrets from each other.

Slowly, the two of you approach the cave, dread settling deeper and deeper into your bones with every step you take. Once you pass the threshold of the cave, you expect it to be dark, and dimly lit by the light from the entrance - however, just like the tower, the inside is lit up by Hoseok’s dragon flames.

Illuminated by brilliant, amber flames of Hoseok’s dragon fire, the interior flashes in almost blinding light. Scores and scores of treasure litter the cave, different trinkets of gold and silver strewn across haphazardly. The cave is larger than you expected, Hoseok laying in the middle of it all, curled up on a little mound of gold coins. However, he doesn’t look completely like Hoseok.

No - instead, there’s a large tail springing out from his back, the leather looking appendage curling around the treasure and flicking absentmindedly as your best friend sleeps. The tail isn’t the only difference, however: two large, leather wings curl around his body, the limbs dwarfing his smaller frame, and two curled horns twist out of his head. The scales that make up his draconic features are a copper tinted red, glowing an iridescent scarlet in the bright lighting of his flames.

Suddenly, his nose twitches and then with a whine, and a huff - a puff of smoke escaping his nose - Hoseok blinks awake. The moment his eyes open, you’re met with his familiar hazel eyes, his gaze instantly finding and locking with yours. The two of you stare at each other for what feels like millennia, Namjoon quietly sneaking out and leaving the two of you by yourself.

All of a sudden, Hoseok springs to his feet, his draconic features retreating into his body as he looks at you in fear. “____- I can explain,” Hoseok quickly calls out, taking a few steps towards you. But immediately tears pool in your eyes, and before he can reach you, you run out of the cave. Blindly, you race through the forest, your chest aching with each step you take - though, you don’t know whether it’s from running or from the heartache of seeing Hoseok’s draconian attributes.

Out of the blue, you hear the heavy beating of wings before arms wind around your small form, bringing you to a stop. The telltale scent of burnt amber and pine fills your senses and despite yourself, you find yourself calming down. Sinking into Hoseok’s scent, tears heavily pool into your eyes. “Why?” you croak out, not understanding why Hoseok would hide such a huge part of himself from you. When had he changed? You know it doesn’t happen overnight - and with the amount he’s changed, it has to have been a while. How long had he kept something this big from you?

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see me like that, I’m sorry. Please don’t be scared of me. ____, please,” Hoseok begins crying, little whimpers escaping his lips as he holds you tighter. Over and over again, he keeps muttering out little apologies, his tears falling onto your shoulder and wetting the cotton of your shirt. His words ricochet through your ears, ringing loudly throughout your being. Why was he apologising?

Placing your hands onto his arm, you slowly unwind them from your body before turning to him. When you see him again, he looks like he’s always done - human - other than his eyes. The bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks mirror yours, you know they do - but unlike yours - his are filled with fear, trepidation and dread. “Hoseok? Hobi- what are you talking about? I’m not afraid of you. Why would I be?” you ask him, pushing away your hurt at having him hide his draconian form from you.

“You ran away from me- after seeing me… like that,” Hoseok whispers, his voice carrying heavy through the quiet forest. Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s talking about - he thinks you’re afraid of him.

“Idiot. I ran because I was hurt, not because I was scared,” you reply quietly, your head lowering to look at the ground. He thought you were scared? How could you be? He’s Hoseok. He’s your best friend - the one who had saved you from your loneliness all those years ago.

“Hurt?” Hoseok repeats, looking at you in confusion. Nodding, you kick your feet slightly.

“You went through your change... but you didn’t tell me. Why?” you ask. Had you done something to betray his trust? Had you done something that made him feel like he couldn’t be completely honest with you?

“I was scared… I don’t- I don’t look human anymore. What if you didn’t want to be my friend anymore? What if you start to hate me?” Hoseok asks, his voice hoarse as he lays his insecurities at your feet. Tears brim in your eyes and you let out a little cry before running and hugging him tightly.

“I could never hate you- or be scared of you. Hoseok, you are my best friend. My dragonbest friend. I ran away because you kept this big secret from me. Not because I was scared of you. I’m sorry,” you apologise, feeling somewhat responsible for his pain.

“I’m sorry too. I should have trusted you…” Hoseok mumbles, returning your hug. You smile into his hug. “Are you sure… you won’t hate me? Or be scared of me? Now that I look like a monster?” Hoseok asks. You tut and shake your head.

“You’re not a monster - you’re a dragon. My dragon, remember? You promised. And yes, I’m sure,” you reply earnestly. Nothing but sincerity in your voice, Hoseok frowns.

“How?”

“Because you were there for me... when no one else was.”

Entering Hoseok’s den, you note that the torches are lit up and as usual, the dazzling amber-gold flames illuminate the cave. Hoseok’s treasure trove had grown over the years - your dragon unable to help himself whenever he’d see something shiny. Sometimes, he’d even travel to the villages that bordered the forest, looking for any shiny trinkets he could find. Gold coins, precious jewels and various different ornate articles are strewn all over the place. You know Hoseok has no use for them nor does he have any concept of monetary value - he only collects them because he likes them - but you can’t help but liken them to the gold coffers of the palace. Not that you remember much of them - just that they were filled with excessive wealth.

Eyes scouring over the cave, you find no sign of your dragon and with a sigh, you exit the den. That left only one more place he could be: the Goblin’s Glade - if he was around here. Though, looking at the sky, you know there’s no real reason for him to be anywhere else. If by some chance he’d ventured further into the forest, you had no idea where he could be - but the chances of that are slim; Hoseok very rarely went somewhere without telling you, especially now.

Turning on your heel, you trek back the way you came. Your feet move automatically as you trudge through the grass and towards the Goblin’s Glade. You’d been there so many times, the meadow being where you would frequently meet up with the rest of your friends, that the path towards it was ingrained in the soles of your feet. Some of your fondest memories took place in the meadow - including the first time you had really realised the extent of your feelings for Hoseok. Sure, you’d always had a crush on him - who wouldn’t, he was the most enamouring dragon shifter you’d ever met. Well - really the only one, but you had met other creatures - and you’d never been attracted to them like you had Hoseok.

Three years ago

“Get her!” Jimin calls out, the nymph running after you, even as you agilely escape his clutches. Your eyes widen in surprise when Jimin pops up in front of you all of a sudden.

Looking at him from the corner of your eyes, the first thing that you notice is the mahogany vines that ensnare his thick neck, pale pink blossoms and vibrant jade leaves adorning the vines. The next thing you notice is his eyes flashing magenta before he swipes you with his arm. Moving on instinct honed into you by Seokjin, you instantly duck, narrowly evading his hand. Jimin cries out in surprise and a cackle of triumph escapes your lips as you watch the nymph trip over a tree root - clearly, Yoongi had caused it to grow rapidly from the ground. Momentarily, you turn to the dryad, perched on a tree branch above you and smile at him in gratefulness.

“Thanks, Yoongi!” you call out. Suddenly, a flash of dark hair catches your eyes from the corner of your eyes - Seokjin. You let out a tut of annoyance before ducking under the elf’s arm as he attempts to wrap his arms around you. Turning around, you grin at Seokjin, sticking your tongue out before continuing your sprint.

The eight of you were currently playing a game Jungkook had coined ‘Capture the Princess’ - in which, the lot of you were split into two teams of four, one holding the princess and her knights - and the other team making up the evil villains. Really, it was just an overcomplicated game of tag. Usually, you’d draw lots for who got to be the princess, and much to your chagrin, today you’d drawn the shortest stick. Of course, it gave your friends a wonderful reason to tease you about your royal heritage - even though you’d long since abandoned it.

Your current team consisted of Yoongi, Namjoon and Taehyung - the three making up the ‘knights’ while Seokjin, Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook made up the villains. With Jimin’s ankle still entangled in the roots thanks to Yoongi, and Namjoon having tackled Seokjin out of the blue, you’re left with Hoseok and Jungkook chasing you. The two-winged shifters fly above you, causing you to yelp in surprise as you make a break for the riverbank.

“____ watch out!” Taehyung calls out from the river - usually, he’d be on the ground running with the rest of you - however, after the third game he’d grown tired of his legs and retreated back to the water- feeling much more comfortable with his tail. Your eyes widen as  Taehyung ricochets a jet of water just past your left shoulder, where Jungkook had attempted to swoop down to capture you. The stream of water collides directly with Jungkook’s wings, drowning the feathers in water and grounding him.

“Damn it, Taehyung! You know I can’t fly properly with wet wings,” Jungkook scowls, the competitiveness in him flaring as he pouts over missing his opportunity to capture you. A sudden flare of heat emanates from behind you, and despite yourself, you turn to look back. Jungkook’s wings are ablaze, dazzling with golden flames, the vermillion and crimson feathers scintillating under the amber-hued flashes of fire. However, the momentary distraction is all you need for Hoseok to catch up to you.

“I’ve got you!” Hoseok calls in triumph, his clawed hand gently reaching out for you. In a last-ditch effort to evade him, you skid to a halt and lower yourself, attempting to duck. However, the minute you do, your foot slides against the slippery riverbank and you feel yourself falling backwards. Hoseok instantly calls out your name, reaching for you - but it’s too late - because you’ve already fallen into the river.

The ice-cold water rushes around you, drenching your entire body in its frigid embrace. Rapidly rushing currents surround you as you submerge further into the river, your heart racing as you desperately try to hold your breath, even as you claw for the surface - but it’s n use, because the current is far too strong for you to fight - or even attempt to swim to the surface. Heart hammering in your chest, you try to keep yourself as calm as possible - knowing Taehyung would come to your rescue soon.

You don’t have to wait long, because moments after being submerged, you notice Taehyung’s strong, ice-blue scaled tail. Even deep in the river, his tail iridescences with a pearlescent hue, drawing attention to it. Desperately, you reach out for him, Taehyung’s tail beating in an almost entrancing motion as he swims towards you. It only takes him a couple of moments to fight the current and reach you, even as you’re carried further down the river. Within moments, Taehyung reaches out to you, grasping your outstretched hand tightly before turning and swimming back upwards.

Breaching the surface, you gasp for air, Taehyung quickly dragging you towards the edge of the riverbank. Instantly, you begin coughing and sputtering, trying to get the water out of your lungs before gasping for air. Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into an incredibly warm chest, the scent of burnt amber and pine filling your senses. Though, this time, you don’t need his scent to tell you it’s Hoseok - you can feel it just from the intensity of the heat he’s radiating.

“Fuck. ____, are you okay?” Hoseok asks, his hands rapidly moving over your arms, whimpers escaping his lips as he feels how utterly cold your skin is.

“F-Fine. J-J-Just cold,” you stutter out, your body shivering in an attempt to warm you up.

“You need to get her home, Hoseok,” Seokjin calls out. Hoseok nods swiftly before picking you up in his arms easily. However, you don’t hear much else, because soon, you’re blacking out.

The next thing you know, you’re waking up in your bed. Your eyebrows furrow as the memories come rushing back and you let out a small groan. By the Old Elders, you had to be more careful - the riverbank was dangerous, the surface of the river deceptively calm; hiding not only the depth but the strong currents underneath as well. The boys had warned you - hell, Taehyung himself had warned you, knowing better than anyone how harsh the currents were. Really, having experienced it, you have to wonder just howstrong Taehyung’s tail is for him to so easily navigate through those harsh conditions.

Sighing, you snuggle further into the mattress, more than happy to relish in the warmth after the freezing depths of the river. With a relaxed sigh, you snuggle further into the hard warmth that surrounds you. Wait. Hard warmth? Your bed isn’t hard. Instantly, your eyes shoot open and you come face-to-chest with none other than Hoseok. Involuntarily, a squeak of surprise escapes your lips - why was he in your bed?

Of course, this isn’t the first time you’d shared a bed - Hoseok would frequently crawl into your bed when you were younger, both as a medium of heat during the cold nights the sparse tower would experience, as well as a deterrent to your nightmares. Of course, you’d outgrown the nightmares ultimately, and eventually, you and Hoseok had created better furniture and bedding to protect yourselves - well, more you - from the cold winter nights.

Now, however, it feels different. He’s pressed tightly against you, blazing heat emanating from his chest - most likely in an attempt to warm you up, a gesture you were incredibly grateful for. Shifting back slightly, you use the opportunity to study him a little. It’s dark outside, the large window letting in thick streams of moonlight to light up your room. Had you slept the entire evening away?

Bright beams of moonlight settle over Hoseok, causing his deep, tanned skin to gleam under the pristine light. You’ve always known Hoseok is beautiful - but under the moonlight, he looks completely and utterly ethereal. His russet hair glistens, the long locks falling into his eyes. Your eyes trace his features, the elegant slant of his nose, his defined, sharp jaw, the soft swells of his cheeks - not to mention his heart-shaped, soft and utterly kissable lips.

Wait.

Kissable lips?

Instantly, heat floods your cheeks. Kissable?! Why the hell had that crossed your mind. Did you want to kiss Hoseok? I mean, of course you’ve thought about it - he was far too attractive for his own good. Not to mention how kind he is; or how his smile lights up the room, and how really, he’s the only person who can make you feel safe. Fuck - the boys had always teased you about your childhood crush, but had it somehow morphed into something more over the years?

“Boar meat… ____,” Hoseok mumbles under his breath, his eyes moving under his eyelids as he dreams about whatever it is he’s dreaming off. His mutters cause you to giggle slightly, even as you attempt to stifle them so as not to wake him up. Your gaze flicking over his features, and a smile involuntarily curling over your face, you can’t help but roll your eyes playfully as he continues mumbling. Suddenly, you stop - because if you’re smiling over the fact that he muttered your name after boar meat, you’ve got to have it bad.

“____… that’s my gold,” Hoseok mutters almost incoherently, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, a pout forming on his face. Shaking your head, you snuggle closer to him, your head resting in the crook of his nest. The moment you shuffle closer to him, Hoseok places his nose against your head before he takes in a deep breath, his arm tightening around your waist. By the Old Elders, he’s such a dork. But at least, he’s your dork.

Drawn out of your reverie, you arrive at the open field, a smile on your face as you remember the day fondly. There was nothing that soothed you or brought you as much happiness as Hoseok’s embrace. Something about being in his arms just felt right, felt like safety - like home, in a way nothing else did. Which is why, you have to find him soon - because with every moment that passes without you knowing where he is, or if he’s okay, your heart grips with worry and fear. You have no idea what you would do if you lost Hoseok.

Entering the clearing, you scan the area for any signs of life, your friends, or even Hoseok. However, as usual, no one is to be seen. You pull your lower lip between your teeth, chewing on it as worry clouds your head. It’s dark now: the sun has long since set. The moon is out in full force, illuminating the forest in its dewy, pristine light. That was something you were eternally grateful for - the magic of the forest amplified the moonlight, allowing all the creatures that made the forest their home to see clearly at night. Nonetheless, bioluminescent mushrooms light the ground, prismatic flowers incandesce around the trees: their vines clinging to the bark, while opalescent fireflies flitter about; their gleaming light only lighting up the forest further. It’s as if, under the light of the moon, the forest came to life.

Hoping beyond hope, and sending a silent prayer to any of the Old Elders of the Forest that would listen to you, you pray that you had somehow missed Hoseok and that by some miracle he was back at the tower. A sliver of dread passes through you, what if something had happened to him? It was no longer safe for him to be out for long times - not since you’d turned eighteen. The day after your eighteenth birthday, princes and their guards had begun turning up at the forest, looking for you, ready to slay the dragon and rescue you. Of course, it was all ridiculous - because you didn’t needrescuing - you’re happy where you are - with Hoseok. Sure, you’d tried explaining that to the princes, but they hadn’t listened to you, instead, trying their best to fight Hoseok.

All of a sudden, you hear a commotion coming from near where your tower is located. It seems like people are yelling and your chest immediately tightens, your eyes widening as your hands begin trembling with fear. Then, a roar. A dragon roar. Turning on your heel instantly, you sprint back towards the tower, your feet thundering across the grass-cushioned ground as you run as fast as you can. Racing back, your heart hammers in your chest, your lungs burning for oxygen while the muscles in your leg smart at being pushed so hard so suddenly - but you implore them to move faster - you have to get to Hoseok.

Skidding to a halt when you reach the tower, your heart leaps to the back of your throat, your knees almost buckling at the sight. Hoseok is heavily leaning on Yoongi, the dryad’s support the only thing keeping him up. Seokjin, Taehyung, and Namjoon driving off the last of the vanguard, the knights retreating under the merciless barrage of arrows, rapid jets of water and unrelenting gusts of wind from your friends. Bright flashes light up the night as magic spells fly around, the guards trying their best to retreat from the commotion. However, you ignore your friends, instead, running towards Hoseok.

“W-what happened?” you cry out as you help Yoongi support Hoseok. Your dragon whines reassuringly, though it comes out more pained than anything, trying to let you know he’s okay. Now that you’re closer to him, you notice the sheen of perspiration that coats his forehead, his clothing ripped in various places, belying the various cuts and scrapes that litter his skin.

“Those knights invaded the forest. They were looking for you and found Hoseok instead. When we heard the commotion, Hoseok was already fighting them - he’s badly hurt. One of them shot him in the stomach as he tried to flee,” Yoongi replies through gritted teeth. Involuntarily, a sob escapes your lips, though you stifle it. This is no time for you to be crying, Hoseok needs your help.

Carrying Hoseok into the tower, you and Yoongi begin lifting him up the stairs. “We need to get him to my room. His room is too far up the tower, we won’t be able to get him up there,” you quickly say, even as you try to blink away the tears. This is all your fault. If you weren’t with Hoseok, if Hoseok hadn’t promised to protect you, none of this would be happening to him.

“Stop worrying - he’ll be fine. Jimin went to get Jungkook,” Yoongi snaps, his green eyes flashing. You bite your lip - you’d spent so much time with the boys, that you could read each other clearly. “Also stop blaming yourself. You belong here, and Hoseok would fight anyone and anything that would try taking you away,” Yoongi reprimands and you know he means well, but it only has you feeling guiltier.

“That’s the problem,” you whisper. You don’t want Hoseok to fight, you want him safe, with you, for as long as you can have him. Before Yoongi can reply, the door to the tower bursts open, Namjoon and Seokjin quickly scaling the tower stairs and reaching you in no time. Seokjin swiftly takes your position, helping Hoseok up the stairs and towards your room, something you’re utterly thankful for. Hoseok was a lot heavier than he looked.

“How are you doing?” Namjoon asks, looking at you in worry. His eyes trail from your tear-filled eyes to your slightly swollen face.

“I’m not the one hurt, Namjoon,” you reply, almost bitterly.

It’s all your fault.

As if reading your thoughts, Namjoon pulls you in for a hug. His strong arms wrap around your body, enveloping it in his embrace, but your hands stay limply against your sides. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask to have those princes come to save you. None of us blame you, and Hoseok definitely doesn’t either,” Namjoon says quietly. A sob escaping your mouth, you muffle them, and instead, causing you to hiccup.

“But I blame myself,” you reply quietly. Namjoon tuts slightly but tightens his embrace.

“Come on, let’s go. Jungkook’s probably already up there,” Namjoon says before taking your hand in his and leading you up towards your room. You get there just in time to see Jungkook fly in through your window, his body shifted into his complete phoenix form as Jimin clings to his back.

You watch as Jungkook perches beside your bed, leaning over Hoseok, his glowing teal eyes roving over each and every inch of Hoseok’s body as he examines all his injuries. His gaze stops directly over his stomach, where an open wound lies - most likely where the arrow punctured Hoseok. Closing his eyes, Jungkook lets little teardrops fall over Hoseok’s body, starting from his stomach and making his way around any cuts and scrapes your dragon has. Instantly, the phoenix tears begin working their magic, Hoseok’s skin knitting back together until it seems he hasn’t been hurt at all. Seeing his wounds clear up, you let out a deep sigh of relief. Once he’s all patched up, Jungkook shifts back into his human form.

“He’s fine now, his wounds are all healed. But he’ll need to rest for a couple of hours. He’ll also need some food to get up his strength, he’s pretty much exhausted of any energy,” Jungkook informs, his gaze levelled on you.

“I have dinner prepared, but I can’t get the fire started without Hoseok,” you mutter.

Nodding, “Alright, let’s go. I’ll light it up for you,” Jungkook says before gesturing you out of the room.

“We’ll also leave. We’ll see you tomorrow to check up on him,” Seokjin says before guiding the rest of the members out. However, before leaving, he places his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. You relish in his comfort, sending him a grateful smile. Then he leaves.

Guiding Jungkook towards the kitchen, you gesture him towards the filled pot. Gently, Jungkook sucks in a deep breath before blowing gently, a stream of golden flames emanating from his mouth. It’s not as ferocious as Hoseok’s fire, nor does it burn at hot, but there’s a certain warmth through it. You watch as Jungkook leans over the pot, a grin on his face. “Boar meat? He’ll love that when he wakes up,” he comments, stirring the pot. Then, you watch in confusion as Jungkook drops another tear into the pot. “That’ll help him gain his strength quicker. Don’t worry so much, when he wakes up he’ll be fully healed and as energised as he always is,” Jungkook says. You nod quietly, muttering your thanks.

Jungkook looks at you intently, your eyes downcast and refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s not-” Jungkook begins, but before he can finish, you let out a bitter scoff.

“It’s not my fault I know. Everyone keeps saying that, but it feels like my fault. If I wasn’t here, Hoseok wouldn’t be hurt. If I wasn’t here, those princes and knights wouldn’t come to the forest. If I wasn’t here, you’d all be better off. I’m a danger to all of you,” you suddenly burst out, your fists clenched as you breathe heavily.

“Do you really believe that?” Jungkook asks, his head cocking to the side. Jaw flexing as you grit your teeth, you nod while clenching your fist tighter, your fingernails digging into your skin.

“Yeah okay. Sure, if you weren’t here Hoseok wouldn’t be hurt. And sure, if you weren’t here those princes and knights wouldn’t keep coming. But you’re wrong in thinking that we’d be better without you. Hoseok would be heartbroken - he’d be crushed if you were to go. And so would the rest of us. We’re not just friends anymore, ____. We’re family. And every single one of us loves you and we’d fight to keep you here. In the forest. Where you belong. With us. Because that’s what family do,” Jungkook says, nothing but conviction in his eyes.

His words cause your eyes to tear up, your chest swelling with all the emotions you feel. Guilt. Worry. Happiness. Love. The conflicting feelings well up in your chest, causing your throat to tighten. It’s like you’re tongue-tied, unable to even form the words to express what Jungkook’s words mean to you. So instead, you simply smile at him, Jungkook responding with his own reassuring smile.

“I’ve got to go, but take care of him alright? And stop feeling so sorry for yourself,” Jungkook jokes.

Then, with a wink, you watch as his back lights up with blazing gold flames, and then, he flies out the window. You turn to the pot, watching the water boil as the meat and vegetables soften into a thick stew. Grabbing a ladle, you begin stirring the pot absentmindedly, wondering how long it’d be till Hoseok woke up.

Once the stew is ready, you grab a bowl and begin serving Hoseok a portion. Carefully, you carry it up to your room before placing it on the rickety table beside your bed. The sight of the table brings a sad smile on your face. It’s uneven, and wobbles but Hoseok had built it for you with his own hands when you were both younger. With a deep breath, you pull up a ramshackle chair and sit besides Hoseok, simply watching over him. You sit for a while, tending to Hoseok - wiping the sweat off of his forehead, brushing his hair out of his eyes and ensuring he’s comfortable.

Once again, the moonlight streams through your window, highlighting his elegant features. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he were the prince sent to rescue you. But you do know better - and he’s no prince. He’s a dragon. Your dragon. Soft sigh escaping your lips, you think back to your eighteenth birthday. It had been so easy back then, before the princes had started coming.

10 months ago

Feet shuffling, “Are you sure we can do this?” you ask, looking at Hoseok uneasily. Even as you utter your words, your dragon best friend ignores you, instead, pulling a boat out of a small alcove. You’re currently in the Merfolk Mangroves, the river that runs through it being the only way to sneak out of the enchanted forest. Sure, you could always walk to the border, but then you risked being stopped by the elves that patrolled the border - and Hoseok didn’t want any questions.

“It’s alright - don’t worry. It’s a special day, we’re gonna do something exciting!” Hoseok says cheerily as he tethers the dingy boat to the docks.

Looking around nervously, you do as Hoseok says: keeping a lookout. You’ve been to the Merfolk Mangroves a fair amount in your time in the forest, yet it never fails to amaze you each and every time. Gigantuous roots from the even more colossal mangroves twist and wind around the area, providing the environment with plenty of cover. The roots are a deep oak in colour, the bark obscured by thick blankets of olivine moss and supple viridian leaves. Streams of water drip from the roots of the mangroves, cascading downwards and into the river the runs along the forest floor.

The musky scent of the earth and the dewy scent of freshwater is thick in the air, clouding your scenes and bathing your nose in its enticing smell. An array of different creatures make their home in the Merfolk Mangroves - merfolk, of course, live in the different shallows of water - surface merfolk closer to to the riverbank and deep-river merfolk further down towards the riverbed. Nymphs, fae and elves made their homes on the branches and canopies of the trees; and of course, dryads of all kinds carved intricate burrows into the trunks. In fact, the Merfolk Mangroves is where most of the population of the forest lived - only very few lived outside the safety and magic of its comfort.

Suddenly, a voice calls out “Whatcha doing?” Instantaneously, you jump, almost slipping on the slippery bank. However, before you can fall, two hands steady you. Once comes from behind you: Hoseok, and the other, from in front. Fuck. It’s Seokjin. Looking behind him, you let out a moan of lamentation - because the rest of the boys - except for Taehyung - are also behind him, the lot of them looking at you cheekily. Though, you have no doubt that Taehyung is somewhere in the river.

“Going somewhere?” comes Taehyung’s deep, gravelly voice, causing you to sigh - and there he is.

“How did you find us?” Hoseok yells in indignation, throwing the rope that tethers the boat to the pier down. The boys only chuckle, before looking around.

“Some elves noticed you and ____ sneaking around and informed me - and well, some mermaids spotted you here and told Taehyung. So, where ya going?” Seokjin says. Hoseok curses under his breath, more than miffed that his plan had been ruined.

Hand running through his hair, “It’s ____’s eighteenth birthday - I’m taking her to the village on the edge of the forest to celebrate,” Hoseok mumbles under his breath, knowing you’ve been caught. Though, you do count your blessings that Seokjin is the elven prince - meaning that you’re not really in trouble for trying to sneak out. It had come as a surprise to you when you’d found out your friend, and the boy who’d been like your older brother while growing up, was next in line for the throne - but it had made sense. Seokjin is a powerful elf, and probably the best marksman in the entire elven vanguard.

“Hoseokie, you know it’s dangerous for the forest creatures to leave. Humans don’t like us - they hunt us for fun. Just last week a unicorn was found dead at our borders,” Seokjin says warily. Your eyes widen, a gasp falling from your lips. Unicorns were wholly innocent - who would want to kill one? Just the thought of it has you feeling sick.

“I know… I just… I wanted to do something different for her,” Hoseok mutters before looking away, his eyes downcast. Eyes softening, you look at him tenderly.

“Hobi… you don’t have to do that for me,” you reply, Hoseok shrugging.

“I know I don’t- but I want to,” comes his reply.

Seokjin lets out a little sigh before running his hand through his hair. You look at him curiously - he stands tall, his dark hair falling to his shoulders, some strands swept out of his face. Bright gold eyes glitter in the sparse beams of light that fall through the mangrove canopy, his pointed ears twitching slightly.

“There’s a tavern - just on the outskirts of the forest. It’s run by a fae I knew when I was younger. Humans and magical creatures are both allowed, but because of that, you can imagine it’s not the nicest of places. I’ll grant you permission to go for today,” Seokjin begins. As soon as he begins speaking, Hoseok’s ears twitch, his head snapping up and excitement brimming in his deep hazel eyes. “However,” Seokjin continues, a teasing smirk crawling on his face, “we have to come with you,” he finishes.

Spluttering in outrage, “What?! Why?” Hoseok bursts.

“It’s ____’s eighteenth birthday, do you really think we’d forget? Or not want to celebrate with her?” Yoongi asks, his eyes rolling as he looks pointedly at Hoseok.

“Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t invite us,” Jimin pouts, looking at Hoseok in playful ire.

“It’s not fair Hoseokie, you can’t keep the princess to yourself,” Namjoon teases, a knowing look evident on his face. Hearing his words, both you and Hoseok blush brightly, your heads turning from each other, even as you sneakily steal side glances towards the other.

“Come on! Let’s go! I’m excited, I’ve never been out the forest,” Jungkook says, already jumping into the boat. Knowing there’s no way to get his friends to leave, Hoseok lets out a sigh of defeat, his shoulders drooping. Really, he was hoping it would be just you and him, but with the arrival of his stubborn friends, he knew it wouldn’t be possible. Really, this was the real reason he had tried to sneak out.

The seven of you cautiously enter the boat, Taehyung choosing to swim beside you until you reached the outskirts of the forest. Though, you think he did it more considering how cramped the small boat already was. You’re currently pressed between Hoseok and Yoongi’s laps, Jimin sitting on Seokjin’s lap as Namjoon and Jungkook squeeze themselves in the back.

The eight of you float down the river, carried by the gentle current Taehyung generates with his powerful tail, making sure that the boat doesn’t catch the more powerful currents underneath. You watch in awe as the forest passes you by - different creatures milling about. Fairies flitter around the high tree branches, showers of magic and fairy dust falling gently from their wings. Little pods of merfolk swim around, some sitting on the boulders on the shore waving to Taehyung before giggling between themselves.

“Woah look at that,” Jungkook says, pointing to the other side of the river. You all turn your gaze, your eyes widening when you spot the pegasus at the edge, gently sipping water.

“By the Elders, it’s rare to see pegasi, even in the forest. They’re male celestial beings, - borne only under certain conditions - when a drop of moonlight falls from the sky and onto a morning glory. Being solitary beasts, they shy away from the rest of the forest’s creatures. Today must be a lucky day, huh ____?” Seokjin asks, smiling happily at you. You nod slowly, unable to take your eyes off the creature.

Its coat is as white as white could be - so pure that it glows softly with every movement - as if made of moonlight - though, from what Seokjin says, they are moonlight themselves. His mane idly drifts around him, dancing with each gentle wisp of wind that combs through his hair. Large, white-feathered wings spring out from his back, the wingspan almost dwarfing his equine body. Each further is iridescent, gleaming in a kaleidoscope of pure pastel colours. You’ve never seen anything like it - and you’ll never see anything like it again. You can feel it - this is a once in a lifetime experience.

“There it is! The edge of the forest!” Jimin calls out, abruptly standing up in the boat and pointing towards a clearing. His sudden movement causes the boat to rock dangerously, everyone yelling out in surprise.

“Jimin! Be careful,” Namjoon admonishes. The nymph lets out a sheepish smile before taking his seat on Seokjin’s lap again.

As soon as you float through the clearing, Taehyung twists the water currents, helping the boat move to shore. Hoping out, Seokjin and hoseok drag the boat the rest of the way onto the shore, docking it until you’re ready to return home. The alcove you find yourselves is attached by a small stream to the river that runs through the enchanted forest, and really, it doesn’t look all that different. Trees line the alcove, providing ample shade with its supple foliage. The sand is soft, your sandals sinking into the ground as soon as you step onto it - but something is different.

There’s no magic in the air. No potent crackling of life or enchanting tingles or energy wafting through the atmosphere. It feels slightly strange - empty - especially since you’ve been used to the forest’s magic for over a decade of your life. Suddenly, you feel a little uneasy. Was it okay for you to leave? Would your friends be okay? Almost as if sensing your worry, Hoseok walks up beside you, his hand entwining in yours before he squeezes it reassuringly. You look up at him, smiling at him in thanks before returning his squeeze.

“Are we ready?” Seokjin asks, taking charge of navigation - which makes sense, considering he’s the only one who knows where the tavern is. You turn to the rest of your friends, noticing Taehyung’s already pulled himself out of the river and is now dressed in simple brown trousers, leather boots and a white shirt. It always surprised you that he could simply magic up some clothes for himself whenever he stepped out the water.

Guiding the group out of the alcove and out of the sparse underbrush of shrubbery, Seokjin brings you to a little hut just on the outskirts of the forest. You spot little lights a little further down - a small village just a few kilometres further down from the forest edge. You follow Seokjin closely, the group practically glued to him as you look around in wonder.

The moment you enter the tavern, your senses are overwhelmed. The atmosphere is warm, borderline stuffy from all the patrons crowding it - really, you’d be lucky to get a table for all of you together. The scent of alcohol is thick in the air, the pungent smell burning your nostrils, causing you to wrinkle your nose. Abruptly, someone bumps into you, pushing you out of the way and spilling some ale on your shoes. With a little frustrated sigh, you push further against Hoseok. Why had you chosen to come here when you could be doing something else? However, remember how excited Hoseok had been to take you out of the forest, you can’t help but smile. He had meant well, and really, this is all Seokjin’s fault anyway - he’s the one who suggested the tavern.

“Jaebum!” Seokjin calls out, the bartender looking up. His eyes flash mulberry for a moment, his dark hair framing his face in that typical, dark, bad boy style. His pointed ears are pierced in multiple locations, a silver ring sitting on his bottom lip. Even his nose and cheek are pierced - how many piercings did one guy need?

“Seokjin, what brings you to my neck of the woods? The forest too boring for you?” Jaebum asks snarkily. Seokjin simply rolls his eyes before gesturing to the group.

“It’s my friend’s birthday. We need a table,” Seokjin says simply. Jaebum rolls his own eyes before shrugging.

“Nowhere’s available,” comes Jaebum’s simple answer.

With a tut, “You know that’s not true. You couldn’t best me in illusions when we were younger, and you definitely can’t best me now,” Seokjin replies, a victorious smirk crawling onto his face. Illusions? You watch as Jaebum scowls, and then suddenly, the atmosphere ripples before changing. You watch in awe as the once crowded bar dies down right before your eyes. It’s still full, just not nearly as much as it was before. You even easily spot a table large enough to hold you and your friends.

“Thanks, Bummie,” Seokjin sing songs, causing the bartender to scowl further. Seokjin leads you to the table, gesturing to Jaebum to bring each of you a pint of ale. Appearing out of thin air, you expect a tankard of ale or something similar - but you’re pleasantly surprised by the jug of a sweet-smelling beverage in front of you.

“It’s Sugar Venom - a fae spirit. Some of the best there is. Jaebum may be a shitty spellcast, but no one can ferment spirits quite like him,” Seokjin says, a large grin on his face as he sips his drink. You watch as each of the boys looks at it curiously, before taking a sip. The sweetness tingles on your lips, the drink easily going down from how enticingly saccharine it is.

Almost an hour after drinking, all of you find yourself pleasantly tipsy, your tongue loosened by the flowing alcohol. Only Seokjin, Hoseok and Jungkook find themselves unaffected by the effects of the fae spirit. Seokjin because he was more than used to his fair share of alcohol, while Hoseok and Jungkook were unable to become intoxicated in any way - their high body temperature burning off alcohol quicker than it could affect them.

“Y-You know, hic-” Namjoon slurs, being interrupted by a hiccup, “you and ____ would make such a cute couple, Hobi,” Namjoon continues, a sleepy smile on his face. Seokjin lets out a chuckle, clapping Namjoon on the back while Jungkook snickers, Hoseok looking away in embarrassment. He steals a glance towards you; you’re smiling gently, your cheeks flushed as you look at him coyly. Though, he’s unsure if the warmth to your cheeks is because of the alcohol or embarrassment.

“I agree! How long are you gonna make us wait, Hobi? We’re tired of watching you and ____, you know,” Jimin scowls, his voice coming out louder than he’d intended. Yoongi hushes him, the two falling into a fit of giggles over seemingly nothing.

“Come on Hobi-Hobi, we’re all waiting,” Taehyung joins in, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at the dragon. Well, attempting to waggle them - in his inebriated state of mind he only manages to move them slightly.

“Yeah Hobi, ____ has been waiting a very long time for you to tell her you love her. Do you not love ____, Hobi?” you ask, your words surprising everyone. Hoseok looks at you in alarm as you begin addressing yourself in the third person, ranting and raving about how it’s not fair that he’s made you wait this long for a confession.

“____, are you okay?” Seokjin asks, looking at you in worry, even as a hint of amusement shines in his eyes.

“No!” you pout, your arms crossing around your chest as you look at Hoseok, “____ has been waiting very long for Hobi to say he loves ____. It’s not fair. ____ loves Hobi very much…” you trail off, “but he doesn’t love ____,” you mumble under your breath. The effects of the alcohol are clear and you know usually, you wouldn’t dare say any of this, but the alcohol has made you loosen your inhibitions slightly, your tongue freed under its influence. Hoseok’s heart begins beating roughly as he hears your unintended confession. Do you mean you love him as a friend… or something more?

“____ just wants Hobi kisses,” you pout, pathetically lamenting to yourself in your tipsy state. Hoseok takes in a deep breath, his heart fluttering in his chest. You love him? Like he loves you? Unable to suppress it, a wide grin crawls onto Hoseok’s face. He reaches out towards you, slipping your hand between his, your fingers entwining as he squeezes it reassuringly. Feeling his touch, you perk up, your demeanour doing a completely one-eighty as you begin smiling brightly.

“Hey pretty lady, can I buy you a drink?” comes a voice from behind you. You don’t notice, too busy gazing at Hoseok with starstruck eyes. However, immediately, Hoseok, Seokjin and Jungkook are alert, eyeing the large man in steel armour behind you warily.

“Oi, lady,” the man repeats, trying to get you to notice him, only to get annoyed when he realises your undivided attention is on the dragon next to you. Noticing the man lift his hand, Hoseok’s eyes flash dangerously, immense heat radiating around him. The boys at the table suddenly jump, blinking wearily, alcohol still clouding their heads, as they look at Hoseok’s, the tavern’s temperature rising rapidly.

“Hoseok,” Seokjin warns, looking around warily. The man’s friends have obviously noticed the commotion, all of them placing their hands on their weapons, ready to defend their friend.

“Just move along,” Hoseok growls, the sound low and threatening.

The man, realising the danger of the situation, puts his hands up in surrender before retreating. Before he leaves, however, “Why would a human want to be with a monster of all things,” he drunkenly mutters under his breath. Instantly, the heat surrounding Hoseok is doused, his spine-shivering as if Taehyung had dumped ice-cold water down his back. Hoseok’s hand turns limp in your hand, his previous happiness forgotten. The guard had a point - why would you ever want to be with him? He was a dragon, he lived in a forest - and sure you did too - but he could never give you the life you deserved.

“You could have hurt her, you know,” Seokjin sighs, shaking his head at Hoseok. The dragon simply sends an annoyed glance towards the older boy, a huff escaping his nose.

“I’d never hurt her. My flames can’t hurt her,” Hoseok says, Seokjin’s eyes widening at the admission, realising the gravity of Seokjin’s words. A fire dragon’s flames burned hotter than hellfire - and Hoseok wasn’t just an ordinary fire dragon - he was a sun dragon: their flames burning at hot and bright as the sun itself. For Hoseok’s flames to not be able to hurt you, there was only one explanation. Hoseok had chosen you to be his mate.

“Hoseok, are you serious? Does she know?” Seokjin asks, looking at you. The dragon simply shakes his head before standing up. He holds his hand out for you, and eagerly, you place yours in his. Pulling you to your feet, you stumble slightly, Hoseok easily catching you before steadying you against his side. Grinning brightly at him, you muster your alcohol-given courage, and stepping on your tip-toes, place a kiss on his cheek.

“We should go home. It’s getting late,” Hoseok says, ignoring the way his skin tingles from where your soft lips brushed oh so innocently against his flesh.

Seokjin looks at him pointedly before nodding. Waving his hands at the boys, he urges them to get up. One hand wrapped around your waist, he guides you out of the tavern, but not before throwing a leather-bound bag of gold to Jaebum in payment for the alcohol. Hoseok crinkles his nose in distaste, not really wanting to hand over his precious gold to the barkeep, but knowing it was worth it if you had a good birthday.

The next thing you know, you’re waking up in your bedroom, Hoseok gently placing you down on your bed. When had you fallen asleep? You remember Hoseok carrying you out of the bar and towards the boat. He’d been incredibly warm, his body heat a creature comfort against the chill of the night. Clearly, you’d fallen asleep on the journey home. “Hoseok?” you croak. The haziness of the alcohol had mostly ebbed away by now, your cheeks tinging pink as you remember how you’d acted earlier in the night. You’re just lucky it’s dark in your bedroom, preventing Hoseok from noticing your embarrassment.

“Shh, it’s okay. Go back to sleep,” Hoseok mumbles, as he tucks you into bed.

Swallowing thickly, you gather up your courage. You had to say in now, “I meant what I said earlier. I like you… more than a friend,” you rasp, swallowing once again as the words escape your lips. Hoseok smiles gently at you, brushing your hair out of your face. Your eyelids flutter, your forehead nuzzling into the warmth of his hand.

“I know you did, but… can you give me some time?” Hoseok asks, his voice quiet, as if afraid to utter out the words. Smiling tenderly at him, you sluggishly lift your hand and entwine your fingers into his.

Then, bringing his hand to your lips, you press a soft kiss against the back of his hand. “Time? I’ll give you all the time you need, Hoseok. I’d wait for you forever. I love you,” you whisper, voice laced with nothing but love. Hoseok’s chest tightens, his heart fluttering between his ribcage.

“I love you too,” Hoseok whispers back, however, you’re already fast asleep, his confession falling on deaf ears. He sits for another few moments, simply watching you sleep. He does love you - there’s no truer truth in the world than his love for you. It was only reinforced by his dragon choosing you as his mate. But his mind flashes back to the tavern, ‘Why would a human want to be with a monster of all things’. The man’s words ring loudly in his head, and Hoseok has to wonder if his love was enough for you - if he was enough for you.

Looking at Hoseok, you smile sadly at him. You had meant what you said that night, you would wait forever for him - but looking at him now, you wonder if you even should. After that night, the knights and princes had started invading the forest - looking out for you. They would come randomly, giving Hoseok no time to prepare for them, but your dragon is strong, and fierce and ferocious - with the power of the sun burning inside his chest, and time after time, he’d manage to drive away the princes or knights, or whoever came for you.

Except for today.

Today is the first time Hoseok’s been so badly injured - if it were anywhere else, the arrows would have deflected off of his dragonhide, his scales harder than the strongest metals. But he’d been hit in his stomach, the only weak point in his leather armour. It has been almost a year since they started coming for you - though, you have no idea why. You know your stepmother had said to leave you here till a prince could come to save you, but you hadn’t believed her. You knew she wanted to be rid of you - so whywere they coming? It doesn’t make sense.

You avert your gaze from Hoseok’s face, instead, staring intently at his hand. Hesitantly, you reach out for it, mindless playing with his fingers as you ponder your thoughts. Was it worth going back? You didn’t want Hoseok to be hurt - you never want to see him like this again. But in order to never see him hurt again, you have to never see him again and you don’t think your heart could take it. For the last decade, Hoseok is all you’ve known, all you’ve needed. Could you so easily leave him? Definitely not - at least, not easily. But you could leave him - it would hurt, more than you could even imagine - but you could do it, if it meant he’d be safe.

“Should- should I leave?” you mutter quietly to yourself, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Please don’t,” comes a hoarse reply.

Head snapping towards Hoseok, your eyes widen as you realise he’s awake. “Hoseok!” you cry out. Immediately, you begin fussing over him, making sure he’s okay. Hoseok lets out a little chuckle before grabbing your hands and stilling you.

“I’m okay. I’m a dragon remember? Also, nothing will heal you faster than Jungkook’s tears,” Hoseok says, smiling brightly at you. Your heart grips in your chest seeing his smile, the little dimples indenting above his lips.

“Oh! That reminds me, here, you should eat,” you say, picking up the bowl of the now cold stew and handing it to Hoseok. “Sorry it’s cold, I made it a while ago,” you apologise. Hoseok simply stares at the bowl, however, blinking in disbelief.

Taking a deep breath, “Is that boar meat?” Hoseok asks, his body perking up. Despite yourself, you smile at him, nodding happily. Hoseok swiftly grabs the bowl from you, then lightly breathing fire under the bowl, he heats it up again before tucking in. You simply watch him quietly, relishing in how happy he looks with a simple bowl of boar stew. Even doing the most mundane of things, he’s enticing.

As he eats, your earlier question still plays in your mind. Over and over again, like a broken record, your mind questions whether you should just leave - go back to the Kingdom with the next prince that comes for you. Finishing off his meal, Hoseok lets out a moan of gratitude before placing the bowl down. You get up to take it, however, Hoseok reaches out, his large hand wrapping around your wrist and halting you. You freeze, looking at him in surprise. His gaze is firm, yet melancholy, bright hazel eyes boring straight into yours.

“Would you really leave me?” Hoseok asks, his voice barely audible - just above a whisper. Goosebumps pricking at your skin, your face crumples with emotion.

“I don’t want to leave you Hoseok, but I- I can’t stand seeing you hurt. I can’t help but feel guilty because I’m the reason they’re coming, and I’m the reason for you being hurt. Seeing you today- I don’t- I don’t want to lose you,” you sniffle, your words coming out broken as you breathe deeply, trying to hold the tears back.

“If you don’t want to lose me, why would you leave?” Hoseok asks, not understanding your logic. Well, he does - somewhat - but it still doesn’t make sense. It’s not like any of the princes could best him in battle anyway - the only reason he was hurt today was because he was caught off guard.

“To protect you! It’s my fault you were hurt today,” you reply with a sniffle. Hoseok looks at you pointedly, shaking his head.

“It’s not your fault-” Hoseok begins and you open your mouth to argue, but Hoseok stops you. Abruptly, he tugs at your wrist, pulling you into his chest. Arms wrapping around you, he holds you close, “It’s not your fault because I choose to fight for you, ____. I promised you I’d protect you. I’ll never stop protecting you, ____ and I’ll never stop fighting for you - because you belong here. In this forest. In this tower. With me,” Hoseok says. Conviction is strong in his voice, his eyes staring at you earnestly.

“What if you get tired of protecting me? What if I lose you?” you mumble, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Burnt amber and pine fill your senses, your eyes fluttering shut as you breathe him in. Nothing felt like safety - nothing felt like home - the same way Hoseok did.

“I would never tire of protecting you and you would never lose me. I’m here for as long as you want me,” Hoseok says, his lithe arm tightening around your waist.

“How are you so sure?” you question, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. Hoseok is always attentive - but this time, his touch is different - more intimate. His head drops to your shoulder, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck - and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he just took in a deep breath.

Goosebumps prickle at your skin as Hoseok’s hand wanders down your arm, your skin tingling under his touch. When he gets to your hand, he wraps your palm in his much large one while lacing his fingers between yours. Gently lifting your hand, his head shifts as he presses a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist, “Because I love you. Because you’re who I chose to be my mate. Because I would protect you until the end of the world,” he confesses, his voice soft and heavily laden with emotion.

“W-what?” you ask. Pushing him back slightly, you shift over him, absentmindedly making yourself more comfortable on his lap as you stare at him in disbelief. Hoseok smiles gently at you from underneath, one hand reaching up and cupping your face.

“You’re my mate, ____. You’re who I choose to spend the rest of my life with. But- only if you want to,” Hoseok replies, pulling your chin down and leaning his forehead against yours. You stare intently into his eyes, your heart beating so rapidly you worry it’s going to burst right out of your chest. Searching, you stare into his eyes, looking for any sign of deceit, any sign of a lie - Hoseok has never lied to you before, but you have to make sure.

“A-Are you sure? You want to spend the rest of your life with me?” you ask, suddenly feeling nervous. You were just a human - someone who hadn’t even been wanted by your own parents, abandoned in the tower at a young age - did he really want to mate with you?

“Yes. You’re the only person I want to be with… but do you want to be with me?” Hoseok asks, his eyes imploring yours. Eyebrows furrowing, you look at him in confusion.

“Why would I not want to be with you? You’re the only person I want to be with too, Hoseok,” you ask, rubbing your nose against his. Hoseok lets out a dejected sigh, his eyes slightly downcast as his warm breath fans your lips.

“Because I’m a monster,” Hoseok whispers, his heart-gripping. He knows that’s what humans see him as - just like that man in the tavern that day. He’ll only ever be a monster to humans and you deserve someone better than a monster.

Placing your hands under his chin, you lift his face up. Hoseok’s eyes meet yours, his widening as he notices the mix of melancholy, understand and love in your eyes. “I meant what I said all those years ago, my love,” you say gently, Hoseok’s eyes widening in the slightest at the term of endearment. Lips curling into a tender smile, you place your head against his again and close your eyes, “You’re not a monster - you’re a dragon. My dragon,” you continue. Your words echo through his memory, and he remembers that day - when you were twelve and he was fourteen - months after he’d gone through his change. He’d hidden from you back then too, scared of how you’d seen him, but just like today, you’d alleviated all his fears with those same, simple words.

“I love you, Hoseok. Every. Single. Inch. Of you. And I want to be with you and only you - forever,” you whisper against his lips. Hoseok’s eyes flicker to your lips, your own eyes still closed as you hold him close. With every one of your words, your lips brush against him - enticing him further into you. He’s the one who’s made of magic, made of sunlight and fire, yet it’s you that has him completely bewitched and enthralled.

He wonders what your lips would feel like against yours - what you’d taste like - but, he doesn’t have to wait long - because the next thing he knows, your lips are softly pressed against his.

Soft lips against yours, Hoseok’s eyes widen for a fraction of a moment before slipping shut. He’d spent nights imagining what your lips would feel like, but his imagination could never do you any justice. Instinctively, his hand moves to loosely grip your neck, your own hands moving of their own accord to twist around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. Deepening the kiss, Hoseok swipes at your lips, begging for entrance - and easily, you concede to him. Tongue slipping between your teeth, the silky appendage sensuously moves against yours, bathings your tastebuds in his saccharine taste.

Your kiss is slow - and sensual - your lips gently moving in tandem with each other as you slowly take in each other. Completely lost in each other, the entirety of the world gently ebbs away - until all you can taste, sense and smell are each other - as if you’re the only two people in the universe. Shifting on his lap, you press yourself further against Hoseok, the dragon letting out a small whine as you brush against his hardened length.

Breaking apart from your lips, Hoseok pants heavily, looking at you heavily, “W-we should stop now if you don’t want to go any further,” Hoseok breathes out. Shaking your head, you place another tender kiss to his lips before hiking your dress further up your thighs, the material pooling around Hoseok’s lap. With your movement, he takes in a sharp breath, the scent of your arousal permeating the air. It’s incredibly faint - but his enhanced senses pick it up.

“I want to- I want you, please,” you rasp out, your own heavy breaths intermingling with his. A guttural, almost animalistic sound emanates from Hoseok’s throat - the sound vibrating through the air and straight to your loins. Hoseok’s hands move to your waist before languidly resting on your hips - his thumbs gently rubbing them with his thumbs. Manoeuvring you closer to him, he lightly begins peppering kisses down the outline of your jaw and towards your shapely neck. Stopping by your jugular, Hoseok hums before nipping the skin there. Hands moving from his shoulders to entangle into his hair, a shallow gasp departs your lips as you feel him almost imperceptibly suckle at your flesh.

“Will you let me mark you?” Hoseok asks, nuzzling the same spot with his nose before taking a deep breath. Your naturally sweet fragrance mingles with the deeper tinges of arousal seeping from you, the intoxication scent slowly driving him while.

Feeling him purr against you, you nod above him, “Mate with me, Hoseok. Mark me as yours,” you reply breathlessly. His eyes roll into the back of his skull, his shaft twitching with excitement as you whisper the words - not a single moment of hesitation. He’d never thought words could sound so enticing.

Humming in appreciation, Hoseok diverts his attention away from your neck and down your sternum. Littering his descent with soft kisses, Hoseok’s lips flit across your skin, lavishing you with their soft attention. Writhing over his lap, you slowly begin grinding into his hips - your own moving instinctively. A groan of pleasure emanates from both your lips at the added friction, and tiring of the slow pace, you move your hands off of his shoulders. Pulling away from Hoseok, your dragon watches you intently, his glowing hazel eyes never leaving yours. Shy smile on your lips, you move your hands to the thick straps that hold your dress up, and then with a deep breath, mustering up all the courage you have, you slip them off of your shoulders.

Hoseok’s eyes widen, his gaze immediately following the dress as he watches your body slowly reveal itself to you. It only takes moments for the dress to pool at your hips loosely, exposing the entirety of your naked torso to Hoseok, yet somehow, time feels like it moves slowly, Hoseok’s gaze trailing after the motion of the dress. Hazel eyes drink you in, drinking each and every inch of your skin. With each passing minute, Hoseok commits every detail of your body to memory: every swell, every curve, every scar.

“By the Elders, you’re beautiful,” Hoseok murmurs before leaning forward and placing a kiss to the top of your right breast. Placing your hand under his chin, you angle his face upwards before dropping a kiss onto his.

Lips mashing into yours, your mouths move fervently - the ardent desire for each other burning deep within your cores. Your kiss turning urgent, Hoseok’s tongue invades your mouth, the silky appendage curling and wrapping around yours as you taste each other. With shaky fingers - whether from anticipation or lust, you have no idea - you begin tugging at Hoseok’s shirt, the material easily ripping, already damaged from his earlier fight. Warm skin bare under your touch, your hands rove over his body, tracing each contour and hardened, sinewy muscle.

Need for oxygen flaring in your lungs, the both of you do your best to ignore it - choosing instead of sink into each other. Times moves slowly, both your hands roaming over each other - as if you can’t get enough of the other’s touch. Eventually, however, the earlier need for oxygen ignited your chests with molten fire, burning your lungs with the urgent need for air. Breaking away, you breathlessly pant against each other, the mix of your warm breaths circulating the air.

Pulling up onto your knees, you gather the dress into your hands, the material bunching in your fists, before you lift it over your head, leaving you completely naked. The complete naked sight of you has Hoseok’s jaw-dropping, his mouth running dry as he takes in the beautiful sight of you. Bathed in the moonlight streaming from your window, your body glows almost ethereally under its light. Hesitantly, Hoseok reaches out for you, his palm gently cupping your breast as his thumb lazily flicks your nipple.

Under his light ministrations, a throat mewl escapes your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as he continues brushing his thumb over the nipple, teasing the peak to hardness. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spin, heat pooling in your loins as you begin squirming over him. Hands falling into his lap, you play with the buckle of his trousers, undoing them with just a little delay - your hands trembling harder with every passing second. Tugging his trousers, Hoseok lifts his hips before aiding you in shimmying them off of his body.

Once he’s completely naked, you’re unable to resist trailing your eyes down his body. Swallowing thickly, your throat runs dry at the sheer sight of him. Caramel skin is pulled taught over his muscles, each limb toned from the years he’s spent hunting in the forest, or playing with the rest of the creatures. Each muscle is tantalisingly defined and you find yourself unable to look away. You continue trailing your gaze down his chest, before stopping at his lap, your eyes widening as you spot his cock.

He’s long, and girthy - and god are they all that big? Or was it just because he’s a dragon? The base of his shaft is the thickest, his girth slowly tapering off towards the tip. His entire length is covered in little ridges, more prominent ones situated at the base of his cock. That has to be a dragon thing - though, you wouldn’t really know - especially as this is the first cock you’ve ever seen. You can’t help but wonder if he’ll even fit - though, the way it pulses under your gaze, his length throbbing with need, has you growing wetter with wanton desire - your thighs turning sticky with your own arousal.

“Enjoying yourself?” Hoseok asks, his tone light and teasing. Blush dusting your cheeks, you let out a squeak of embarrassment before ducking your head. Hoseok lets out an airy chuckle, his hands moving to cup your cheeks before lifting them up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Hoseok begins, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, “it’s just, I could smell how wet you got staring at me,” he continues.

A gasp of shock escaping your lips, your face heats up further - until you can feel your ears burning, “Hoseok!” you squeal, before curling into him, ducking your head into the crook of his neck as you attempt to hide from him. This time, Hoseok lets out a louder laugh, his arms automatically wrapping around your waist while he peppers kisses along your shoulder. “Sorry. Sorry, I’ll stop,” Hoseok chuckles.

Pulling away from his body, you pout above him, your cheeks still flushed with heat. Hoseok leans up, repetitively placing soft kisses against your lips as he tries to placate you. Somehow, he manages to win you over, his chaste kisses turning into deeper ones. Your hands move to trail over his lean shoulders, your fingers raking over the skin as you begin gyrating over him. Every now and then, the ridged muscle of his cock brushes against your clit, drawing out breathy moans from you.

Breaking away from his kisses, though with much reluctance, “I want you,” you whisper against his lips. Groaning at your words, Hoseok’s hand slips between your bodies and into the space amidst your thighs. Gently cupping your sex, Hoseok’s middle finger runs along the soft, dewy folds. The sudden touch has you letting out a deep groan, your head falling back as he slowly strokes your folds. Spreading your wetness along your mound, Hoseok inhales deeply, relishing in the pungent scent of your sex. He’s never smelled anything as intoxicating as you.

Fingers dipping further between your folds, Hoseok slowly slides a finger into your tightness, a strained groan leaving his lips. If you were this tight around his finger, how tight would you be around his cock? Languidly thrusting his finger into you, Hoseok relishes in the feel of your velvety, pulsing folds. Reflexively, your hips begin swirling over his as you begin riding his hand, your inner walls pulsating in a bid to pull his finger in deep.

Fingers curling into his shoulders, your nails dig into his skin, your hips moving further as you feel your stomach tighten with a foreign pleasure. “H-Hoseok,” you groan, your eyes fluttering in pleasure. Your dragon hums under you before sliding a second finger into you. You let out a squeak at his ministrations, your eyes scrunching slightly at the stretch. Leaning up, Hoseok places tender kisses against your eyelids, hushing you soothingly.

The stinging only lasts a couple of moments, giving way to more pleasure as Hoseok continues pumping his digits into you. With a particularly low grind, you unwittingly push Hoseok’s fingers deeper into you, your dragon crooking his fingers into you. The action causes his fingertips to brush against the velvety sweet-spot inside you, a cry of pleasure departing your lips. “H-Hoseok, please,” you groan - the burning need to feel him inside you coursing through your veins.

Desperation evident in your words, Hoseok pulls his fingers out. You let out a cry of protest, your hips chasing his fingers. Hoseok lets out a small chuckle, lifting his head and placing a tender kiss to your jaw. “Patience, sweetheart. Don’t you want to be good for me?” Hoseok asks. His words have you moaning, your pussy clamping at the dominating tone in his voice. Nodding, you still your hips, “Good girl,” Hoseok murmurs, placing a praising kiss against your cheek.

Hoseok shifts, his hand moving to grip the base of his shaft. You feel him pump it twice, your eyes fluttering open to watch him use his thumb to spread the transparent beads of precum over the tapered head of his cock. Once he’s done, he angles the head towards your entrance, the tip brushing against your engorged clit, causing you to gasp in pleasure. Placing his cock at your entrance, Hoseok moves his hands to your hips before slowly sliding them down.

You feel a build of pressure against your entrance, Hoseok’s cock slowly sliding into you. Crying out in a mix of pain and pleasure, you cling to Hoseok tightly, your eyes scrunching shut as you feel the searing heat of his cockhead slowly stretch you open. Hoseok stills under you, looking at you in fear as he hears your squeak of pain. “Are you okay?” he quickly asks.

Nodding shakily, you take in a deep breath, “J-just go slow, please,” you whimper. Hoseok’s nods, slowing his pace down. With every inch that he slides into you, he opens your walls out further. The two of you move slowly, Hoseok sluggishly feeding inch by inch of his cock into your hot, velvety depths, and soon, you find yourself pressing against the thick base of his shaft. Hoseok stills once again, simply holding you to him as he allows you to adjust to his length. Purring against you, Hoseok nuzzles the flesh just above your jugular, relishing in how euphoric you feel around his cock. Frequently, he’d imagined what you’d feel like wrapped around him - but he’d never known it would feel this good.

After long moments of stillness, you finally shift over Hoseok, the discomfort ebbing away and melting into pure, unadulterated ecstasy. Swivelling your hips, “M-move,” you urge.

Fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, “Are you sure,” Hoseok asks. Your only answer is it swivel your hips again, wanting to feel more of him. Languidly, Hoseok uses his strength to lift you off of him before bringing you back down. Now that the discomfort is gone, you can feel nothing but the euphoria of Hoseok’s cock thrusting into you - amplified by the ridges of his cock rubbing against every pleasurable spot inside you.

The two of you begin moving faster against each other, Hoseok thrusting his hip upwards as you bring yourself downwards. With each thrust, you match his rhythm, gasps of pleasure escaping both your lips as you lose yourself into each other. Goosebumps prickle at your skin, heat stirring in your lungs as you feel pleasure burn in your veins. You’re close - you can feel it. Moaning out his name, you move faster, Hoseok’s hand twisting between your bodies, his thumb moving to rub your clit.

The additional pleasure has you shrieking out his name, your walls clamping in an almost vice-like grip. Repetitively, Hoseok ghosts his thumb over your throbbing clit, rolling the bundle of nerves over and over again as he draws out your pleasure. With every single ministration, the heat in your loin grows - from dull warmth into searing heat. White-hot pleasure prickles at your skin as you feel yourself come undone.

Thighs shaking around him, you cry out in ecstasy as you cum, Hoseok’s name falling from your lips - almost like a prayer - over and over again. You writhe almost uncontrollably over him, losing yourself into the lust-filled euphoria of your orgasm as you shatter over him. Hoseok soon finds himself lost in his own pleasure, the impossible tightness of your walls, paired with the gushing wetness of your orgasm, proving to be too much for him. With an animalistic roar, Hoseok buries his head into your neck before biting down on your jugular.

Your eyes widen as you feel Hoseok’s heat sear into you, his blazing fire searing through your veins and heightening your pleasure. Magic floods into your very being, causing you to shake even more as you wail out his name. Finally having marked you as his, Hoseok pulls his teeth away from you before closing his eyes and succumbing to his own orgasm. Just as the searing heat of his magic fades away from your veins, you feel Hoseok’s cum spurt deep into you, rope after rope of warm semen flooding you. A low moan escapes your lips, your head dropping onto his shoulder as you relish in the feel of his cum deep inside you.

The two of you simply stay there, Hoseok’s cock still buried inside of you, as you breathlessly paint. Sweat coats your skin, your naked chests sticking together - the flesh turning tacky as your perspiration begins drying. Not that you care, no, you’re more than happy to feel Hoseok’s heated, gummy skin against you. Erratically, the two of you twitch, your muscles still reeling from your orgasm.

Coming down from your elated highs, you feel Hoseok pull you close against him, his chest flush against yours. Panting heavily, you gasp for air, even as Hoseok shifts you so that you’re lying next to him. He manoeuvres your body so that you’re curled into his chest, your ear pressed to just over his heart. Swimming in post-orgasmic bliss, Hoseok simply holds you close, his fingers absent-mindedly trailing over your hip, tracing intricate shapes over your skin.

Completely satiated, you simply relish in his tough, more than happy to bask in the feel of Hoseok. Your hand runs over his stomach before you freeze. Titling your head, you stare at where your hand is rested - just over where he’d been hurt a mere few hours ago. Your eyebrows furrow as you trace over the smooth skin - phoenix tears were a powerful thing, but for them to heal to the point of not even leave a scar was something to awe at. Nevertheless, just the memory of Hoseok being hurt causes you to frown.

“Let’s leave this tower,” you finally say as you mindlessly draw circles over where he’d been wounded before. The moment the words drip out of your mouth, Hoseok’s hand freezes.

“What?” he asks, his gaze shifting to look at the top of your head in curiosity. Turning, you shift so you can look up at him.

“Let’s leave this tower. Let’s find a new home,” you repeat, staring at him resolutely.

“Why?” Hoseok questions causing you to giggle slightly at his dumbfoundedness despite the seriousness of your suggestion. Had you reduced him to one syllable questions?

“Because everyone in the kingdom knows I’m in this tower - but if we move, they won’t be able to find us… hopefully,” you suggest, muttering the last words under your breath. You don’t want to leave Hoseok - but then you realise, there’s no reason the two of you couldn’t just move.

“You’ve never wanted to leave before,” Hoseok points out, wondering where the sudden suggestion came from. You shrug nonchalantly, though your eyes flicker momentarily to his stomach. Hoseok’s eyes catch the movement, his hand moving to grip your hip in comfort. “____?” he coaxes, nudging your head with his nose. Dejected sigh slipping from your lips, you relax further into him, your muscles sinking into his and moulding you together - almost as if you’re becoming one.

“You’ve never been this hurt before,” you reply quietly, your voice barely audible. Hoseok’s face softens, your earlier words suddenly making sense. You’re still worried about him.

“The tower is our home - has been for years now. Do you really want to move?” Hoseok asks. Personally, he doesn’t really care - he’d go anywhere as long as it’s with you - but there were so many memories the two of you had in this tower, your entire lives ingrained into its grey stone walls.

Shaking your head, your hair tickles his chest and the bottom of his chin, Hoseok’s nose wrinkling as he tries to push it out of the way, “No, you’re my home. Home is where you are. If you won’t stop fighting for me, at least run away with me. Please? Let’s go somewhere they won’t find us,” you implore, your voice laced in a pleading tone.

Hoseok hums carefully, his arm snaking around your waist. “Where do you want to go?” he asks, causing you to perk up.

“The Merfolk Mangroves. We can build a new home there. It’s deeper in the forest, the area guarded by the elves. Not to mention we’ll be closer to our friends. Please, let’s just go. I don’t want to see you hurt anymore,” you plead. Hoseok hums for another moment before nodding, easily acquiescing to you.

“Alright. We’ll move. How does tomorrow sound?” Hoseok asks, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Tomorrow?” you repeat in mild surprise, not expecting him to be ready to move so soon.

This time, Hoseok shrugs. “It’s not like we have a lot of things. We only really need our clothes. We can always build more stuff - thought building a house may take a while. But it’s okay, we can ask Yoongi and Jimin to help us,” Hoseok says. You gaze at him in shock, murmurs and mumbles escaping his lips as he lists things the two of you would need. “Yeah, tomorrow works. So, how about it?” Hoseok asks, turning towards you. Happiness blooming in your chest, you nod eagerly before nuzzling further into him.

“Tomorrow sounds perfect,”

Five years later, you find yourself near the edge of the forest, in the midst of Salamander Swamps - though you don’t think it’s really a swamp by conventional methods. Tall trees and brushes litter the area, their leaves emblazoned in glittering hues of amber-gold and scarlet-ruby. Rivers and lakes of aurous copper swirl around the area - though, you know it’s not actually water. No, the streams of seemingly liquid-gold are actually made of the fiery salamanders that make their home in the swamp. Sunlight drips through the saffron canopy, the plush foliage gleaming as if made of blazing topazes.

Trusty wicker basket dangling in the crook of your elbow, you happily hum to yourself as you pick off the golden Soleil berries from the low-growing brush. You’d heard about the berries long ago - there were stories, passed down with each generation of the forest’s magical folk - that the berries would harness sunlight and store the sun’s energy, the magic of the sun amplified by the salamanders’ mystical fire. Hence, you’d decided to ask Seokjin, knowing the elf prince had an almost encyclopaediac knowledge of the forest’s fauna and flora, whether he knew where you could find some; and the older elf had not disappointed in the slightest.

Though, really, you should have guessed - with the myths surrounding the Soleil berries, there really was only one place they would grow.

“Hurry up, ____. It’s not safe for us to be out here,” Jimin calls out. Turning your head, you glance at him from over your shoulder. Both him and Taehyung are sat perched on a boulder, mindlessly drawing shapes into the ground as they wait for you to finish. From the corner of your eye, you spot Jungkook, the phoenix happily picking berries and snacking on them.

“I need more berries! I’m making-” you reply, only to be cut off by Jimin.

“A special meal for Hoseok for your five year anniversary and Soleil berries are rumoured to energise Sun Dragons like Hoseok. Yes, yes we know. But I don’t think Hoseok would appreciate us bringing you all the way here - the Salamander Swamp borders human territory. It’s not safe, especially for you, Princess,” Jimin reminds you. His words cause you to scowl as your ire rises.

“I’m not a Princess. Don’t call me that. And I’m sure we’ll be fine. They haven’t found me for five years - ever since Hobi and I moved to the Merfolk Mangroves - they probably think I’m dead or something - or that Hoseok ate me,” you shrug nonchalantly, sarcasm dripping from your words. Really, that was one of the stupidest rumours you knew humans believed - dragons didn’t even like human meat - they prefered animals - and Hoseok preferred boar.

“It’s still not safe for us to be here,” Jimin replies.

“Yeah, I don’t think we should be here any longer,” Taehyung pipes in as he looks around warily.

“Ugh! Fine! Just give me a few more moments,” you bite back before turning back to the bushes.

“We need to go - now,” Jungkook says all of a sudden before grabbing you by the wrist.

“You too, Kook? You’re the one who wanted an adventure!” you hiss in indignation. However, seeing the alertness in Jungkook’s eyes, his teal orbs warily looking around, you find yourself stopping. Blooding rushing through your veins, the hair on the back of your neck stands up. All three boys are on their feet, their senses on high-alert as they look around.

“Guys? What’s going on?” you whisper, knowing that their enhances senses could pick up things you wouldn’t be able to.

Then - you hear it. A snap of twigs, followed by a faint whistling.

All of a sudden, an arrow flies through the air, Taehyung only narrowly managing to duck from under it. “Humans! We need to go! Now,” Jimin roars, already turning out and running towards the boat that you’d used to travel to the Salamander Swamps. Taehyung had already jumped into the river, ready to swim back home. You feel Jungkook grab you, his body twisting as he runs towards his friends. However, before you can follow him, you feel someone else grab you.

“By the Gods! The Princess is alive! We’ve found her,” a knight yells, alerting the rest of the vanguard. A cry of panic escapes your throat, Jungkook hissing as the knight tugs on your arm.

“____!” Jimin and Taehyung yell, their eyes wide with fright, Jimin already stepping back out of the boat to help you.

But he moves to slow - because all of a sudden, out of nowhere, another guard appears, swiping his broadsword towards the hand Jungkook is using to hold onto you. Before the knight can hit him, however, Jungkook removes his arm, subsequently letting go of you.

You feel arms circle around your waist, dragging you backwards and away from Jungkook, even as you desperately struggle against their hold, trying your hardest to escape the knight. You see Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung caught in a fray - the sound of swords clinking and arrows whistling through the air entwine with the raging crackle of fire, torrential splashes of water and echoing snapping of vines - the amalgamation of sounds almost deafening - even as you screech for your friends.

“Let me go! Let me go!” you scream, clawing at the arms that hold on to you - but its no use - your fingernails are useless against the steel of the knight’s armour.

“Don’t worry, Princess. You don’t have to be scared of us, we’ve come to rescue you. We’re taking you back to your father,” the knight says placatingly.

Hissing at him, “I don’t need to be rescued, you idiot! Let me go,” you cry, increasing your struggle against him. But the knight doesn’t heed any of your words, and instead, he throws you onto the back of the horse, jumping on after you before sprinting off.

Moments after the horse begins galloping, you hear a loud screeching sound, “____! We’ll come for you! Hoseok will come for you,” Jungkook roars, the words slightly strained and instantly, you know he’s shifted into his half-phoenix form.

Before you can respond to him, however, you already find yourself further away from the forest. Your heart sinks in your chest, tears filling your eyes as you watch the trees begin to grow sparse as the magic in the air died - you’re no longer in the enchanted forest - and more than that, you can no longer hear Jungkook, Jimin or Taehyung.

The knight gallops away, the ride slightly bumpy as you continue staring behind you, yearning for home. You know you’re to blame for being kidnapped - well, partially, because really, you hadn’t asked for this. Still, you should have listened to Jimin when he said it wasn’t safe - but you’d only wanted to do something nice for your anniversary with Hoseok.

The landscape rushes past you, slowly shifting from the natural terrain of to more human-made, little houses and buildings coming into view. Your back in the kingdom. Unbothered, the guard continues riding, not even acknowledging that you had stopped struggling. Turning your head, your chest tightens as the large, almost opposing, castle comes into view. Vaguely, you can remember it from your memories - the place you had once called home. But it’s not home any longer, home is in the enchanted forest, with your friends, with Hoseok.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook’s faces flash in the back of your mind, your chest aching with worry. Closing your eyes, you send a silent prayer to the Old Elders of the Forest, praying that your friends had retreated and are safe.

The next day, groggy and disoriented from sleep, you awake in a large bed. Spine imperceptibly shivering from the morning chill, you instinctively reach out for Hoseok, craving the warmth radiated by your mate. However, instead of coming into contact with Hoseok’s sinewy and heated body, all you feel is the cold of the mattress. Abruptly, the memories crash over you like a bucket of ice-cold water, your body springing up in bed.

You’d been kidnapped from your home and brought to the forest. When you’d finally arrived in the palace, it had been late at night and your father and step-mother hadn’t even bothered greeting you. Instead, you’d been sent straight to your old room. You considered escaping, but knights had stood guard outside your door all night - you’d periodically checked, wondering if you could make a getaway. Momentarily, you’d considered climbing out the window, but your bedroom was several feet off the ground and facing a cliff edge. Eventually, the futility of your escape had dawned on you, and exhausted, you’d fallen into a fretful sleep, your only hope knowing that Hoseok would stop at nothing to come rescue you.

Looking around the room, you hazily recognise the bedroom from your childhood and vaguely, you realise that nothing has changed. The curtains are still a pastel pink, white furniture embellished with intricate gold designs is still perfectly placed around the bedroom, and while slightly faded, the carpet is still a plush grey. The perfect room for a princess - however, not for you. The room makes you feel nauseous: the pastel pink almost overwhelming and the white only washing out the rest of the colours.

Momentarily, you hear a light knock, your head automatically turning towards the sound. The creaking of the door resounds through the air, before, “Princess, you’re awake,” comes a dulcet voice. The voice sounds familiar, ringing through your memory, and when the woman comes into view, you recognise her as the nanny who used to look after you. She’s much older now, with sunken but kind eyes, and greyed hair.

“Mrs Cheon,” you greet quietly. The lady stops in surprise, looking at you in disbelief before a gentle smile graces her face.

“I’m surprised you recognise me,” she replies before walking towards you. Pulling the sheets off you, she urges you out of the bed and towards your large bedroom. The bath has already been drawn, different soaps and shampoos littering the bath’s edge. Mrs Cheon fusses over you, helping out of your clothing before washing away the grime and dirt you’d collected from foraging in the forest yesterday. Every now and then she tuts, scrubbing extra hard to get you clean.

You don’t know what compels you to allow her to fuss over you, because really, you wantto fight, you want to kick and scream and find a way out. But you know you have no choice but to go through the motion of the days. The reality of the situation isn’t lost on you, you’re completely outnumbered, guards posted in every nook and cranny of the palace as a security measure. It would be hard to make it out by yourself, so instead, you choose to wait - because you know Hoseok will come for you. More than any of that, however, you allow Mrs Cheon to lead you because you know there is something you have to do before you can escape this place once and for all.

Once your bath is done, Mrs Cheon leads you back to your room, where several ladies in waiting greet you. Fake smiles plastered on their face, they curtsey towards you before they begin dressing you. You’re not stupid, you can see the disdain clear as day in their eyes because here you are: a princess of royal blood, of higher status than them and theoretically more power and wealth than they could ever have, yet you’d willingly - though, not at first - chosen to live in the enchanted forest. A part of you wants to make a snide remark, but instead, you simply bite your tongue. It wouldn’t do you any good if you caused a commotion now. You had to wait, for help to arrive, for Hoseok to come, and then you could leave this place.

Hands spread out, the ladies dress you up. First, they string a corset around you, two women pulling the straps tight until you find it hard to breathe. Different layers of silk and chiffon follow, before finally, the last layer is draped over you. Unfocused gaze set on yourself, you watch as the women cover you with expensive fabrics, intricate designs embroidered in gold thread. Once done, they lead you to your vanity before sitting you down and beginning on your hair. A woman you don’t recognise begins brushing your hair, your face crinkling as she roughly detangles the knots before styling it.

You sigh and decide to retreat into your own mind, knowing that they still had to do your makeup. When you were younger, you’d seen your mother go through this routine, every day, until she was too sick to go through it anymore. You had once wished to be just like her, your every whim being catered to as women fussed and fawned over you. Now that you’ve had a taste of freedom, of independence, the entire experience feels jarring and exhausting.

By the time the ladies are finally done with you, dusting you in an overpowering perfume that has your nose crinkling in distaste, it’s already been hours. Really, howdid people of noble blood go through this exhausting routine every day? It’s ming boggling to you. Breaking you out of your thoughts, “You’re ready Princess,” Mrs Cheon finally says, and once again you have to bite your tongue to stop from snapping that you’re not a Princess. Not anymore at least. You’d given up that claim a long time ago.

“Come along. I am to take you to the throne room where the King, Queen, and Royal Court await you,” Mrs Cheon informs, and with that, Mrs Cheon leads you out of the room. With each step, the dress and heels weigh you down, the material scratching against your skin and leaving you feeling uncomfortable. You wanted your clothes - the leather boots, trousers and cotton shirts you were used to. Or even the lighter, much more freeing dresses that you’d wear occasionally.

Stepping out of the bedroom, the first thing that comes to your attention is the significant lack of guards. Unlike yesterday, when the corridor was heavily guarded, the knights are nowhere to be found. If she’s noticed anything amiss, Mrs Cheon doesn’t say anything. Expertly, she navigates through the maze-like corridors of the castle and once again, you recede into your own thoughts. The throne room is on the other end of the castle, far away from your wing of the palace and you know it’ll be a while before you reach there.

The two of you walk in silence as you wonder how long it’ll be till Hoseok and your friends come for you. Just as you get to the wing of the castle where your father conducts his official business, the sound of a commotion catches your ears. Head snapping to the window, your eyes widen as hope flutters in your chest. This wing of the castle is closer towards the towns and village, not to mention the entrance to the castle. Gazing out the window, you spot the large castle walls, knights running around while yelling at each other. But that’s not what’s got you so hopefully, it’s the bright kaleidoscopic flashes of colour just outside the walls that have your attention - flashes you know to be magic.

They’re here. They’ve come for you.

Again, Mrs Cheon continues walking, not saying anything even if she notices your attention on the window looking out. Just as you reach the large arched doors to the throne room, a deafening dragon roar resounds, the sound so loud it even penetrates the castle walls, ricocheting straight through your being. Your knees buckle, your heart fluttering as you hear the telltale sound of your dragon. Then, all of a sudden, the drawbridge that leads to the outside is broken into, thick clouds of black smoke filling the air as dragon fire spirals uncontrollably, burning the wood to ashes.

He’s here.

Hoseok’s here - which mean there’s only one thing for you to do. Taking a deep breath, you gather all your courage before stepping in front of Mrs Cheon. The older lady looks at you in surprise, watching as you fearlessly push open the wood doors before taking daring steps forward. As soon as you burst in, every single noble that makes your father’s court turns to you. Your father’s eyes widen, your stepmother’s own narrowing as she looks at you with distaste. As you begin walking towards the back of the room, where your father and stepmother sit upon their thrones, hushed whispers begin filling the air, the noblemen unable to contain themselves.

Ignoring them, you keep your head held high, your unwavering and hardened gaze focused directly on your father. You don’t even bother deigning your stepmother with your gaze, ignoring her completely. When you get to just before them, your father opens his mouth to speak, but before he can speak, you interrupt him by holding up a hand. His eyes widen, another wave of whispers running rampant around you.

“No right. You had no right to kidnap me from my home,” you seethe, your voice hissing through the air. The king sits up slightly, his eyes widening at the venom in your voice.

“We did not kidnap you. The knight rescued you from the dragon that guarded you and as such, he will be the one to marry you,” you stepmother buts in. Though, from her tone, you can tell she’s more irritated by the situation than anything. Clearly, she hadn’t wanted you back - which begs the question, why are you back. It must have been your father’s doing. You internally wonder if hell had frozen over, because you found yourself mirroring her ire.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes, “Yeah, well, funnily enough, I didn’t need rescuing from the dragon. And I definitely will not be marrying some random prince I don’t even know. I don’t love him - I love Hoseok - the dragon that protected me. The dragon that was there for me when my own family abandoned me. I don’t need you - nor do I want anything to do with you. I was happy in the forest, my home is in the forest now. Not here,” you seethe. From the corner of your eye, you notice flashes of magic pass the window that overlooked the front of the castle. Excitement courses through your veins, your hands trembling with eagerness. He’s so close.

“In love?! With a dragon? That’s preposterous. He’s a monster,” A nobleman calls out, cause you to snarl in his direction. The wild anger in your eyes clearly terrifies him, because instantly, he takes a step back.

“____, you’ve clearly been in the forest too long. But this is where you belong. Come home, this is where you belong. You are human, not a creature of the forest. You are next in line for the throne, this Kingdom’s Princess. It needs you,” your father says.

His words cause you to see red, and you level your hardest, most spiteful, glare at your father. “I am not a Princess and I owe this kingdom nothing. You abandoned me in a forest when I was seven years old - and nothing you do or say can ever make up for that. This is no longer my home,” you hiss, gesturing towards the room, “and this,” you say, gesturing to your outfit, “is not who I am. My home is in the forest. With my mate. I belong there with him,” you continue. Then, in the spur of the moment and with more strength than you knew you had, you tug at the dress - hard - causing it to rip into tatters. Shocked gasps flood the air, men whispering at the scene of disgrace. Shreds of the outer dress cling to your body, the material of your inner dress and corset on display. Your hard tug had even pulled loose some of the corset strings, and the moment you hear the tearing of fabric, you feel like you can breathe again

“I gave up on being a Princess long ago - the daughter you knew, the daughter you left in a tower all by herself - I’m no longer her. Leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you or this Kingdom. I have a family - a family who is out there fighting for me - to bring me home. They are all I need. So please, if you have any love for me, or if you have any care for my happiness - let me live my life,” you finally finish. With the last of your words, you feel your anger rush out of you, leaving you feeling freer than you had in years.

Lifting your hand, you touch the crown that sits perched atop your head before tugging it. As soon as it comes off, your hair comes loose, falling wilding around your head. Without care, you drop the crown on the floor, the last of the weight lifting off of your shoulder. Then, with the last of your adrenaline rush, the feeling of freedom coursing through your veins, you run towards the window that outlooks the courtyard - where you know Hoseok to be.

Refusing to even think for a moment, and putting all your faith in Hoseok, you leap onto the window ledge before throwing yourself out the window. The members of the court jerk in alarm, gasps of alarm resounding through the air, your father jumping to his feet as he watches you plummet out the window.

The air rushes around you, the sound of the wind passing you by almost defeaning. Instantly, you shut your eyes, your heart racing a mile a minute as you feel yourself freefalling towards the ground. A scream rips through your mouth - and then suddenly, you come to a halt. You feel strong arms wrap around you, the familiar sound of heavily beating leather wings vibrating through your eardrums. Opening your eyes, you grin as you come face to face with Hoseok’s terrified looking face.

“What do you think you’re doing? You can’t just randomly jump out of a window - you could have died,” Hoseok reprimands, his voice carrying out in a hiss.

An impish smile crawling onto your face, you let out a raucous laugh before throwing your arms around his neck, “I can when I know you’ll be there to catch me,” comes your reply. Hoseok wants to reprimand you, tell you that you were entirely too reckless and that watching you fall out the window had almost given him a heart attack - but seeing your laughter, the lightness to your eyes and the easiness in your muscles, he finds himself lost for words.

Eyes softening, he presses his forehead against yours before nuzzling your nose, “I’m sorry I took so long. I should have come sooner,” Hoseok apologises.

Hearing his words, you shake your head, looking at him with nothing but love, happiness and resolute trust, “It’s okay. I knew you’d come for me. You promised,” you reply. Hoseok’s arms tighten around you, pulling you closer to his chest. Pressing your forehead harder against his, you grace him with a chaste kiss, relishing in the soft feel of his lips. “Let’s go home, Hoseok,” you whisper against his lips. Eyes softening, Hoseok nods before easily turning, flying off in the direction of the forest.

You don’t even bother turning around to look at your father or the castle. Instead, you simply relish in the feel of Hoseok’s arms around you, the calming rhythm of his heart against your ear, and the steady beating of his wings, because you know, that now, you’re finally free.

The End.

a/n: happy sunflower hobi day!! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! come tell me what you thought!!

Kofi | Masterlist

[capesandshapes]

Let's Be Alone Together (Marichat)

Summary:

Marinette deals with the aftermath of Truth when an unexpected visitor appears.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It didn’t look right. Actually, nothing she’d drawn recently had looked right. Nothing had looked perfect; nothing had flown from her hand with ease and made her feel whole again.

It was just another thing that was wrong, another thing that all of this has taken away from her. The trust of her friends, the hope of a new relationship, and now her designing abilities. Of course, that’s how it worked, she wasn’t Marinette anymore—she hadn’t been Marinette for a while.

“Maybe if you take a break,” Tikki said, ignoring the fact that breaks add up and she’d had more than enough that past week.

The other Kwamis were locked in the miracle box, she had to do it because she couldn’t even hear herself think anymore—

“Maybe if you transform into Ladybug—”

“I don’t want to be Ladybug, Tikki,” Marinette said, and her voice was clipped and far too rough. She immediately wanted to apologize, to tell Tikki that she didn’t mean it. But that would be lying, and god, she’s so tired of lying.

She pushed back from her desk, her eyes just barely taking in the Kwami’s concerned expression before looking anywhere else—wincing at the minuscule damage she’d done. Tikki would forgive her, she was understanding, but Marinette wouldn’t forgive herself, not for the constant sludge of awfulness that seemed to escape her lips. “I think I just need to go to the roof and be alone for a bit, Tikki,” she said and immediately felt the constriction in her chest when the Kwami only nodded.

Her hands gathered up her sketchbook and at first reached for her sketching set, but then she changed her mind at the last moment. Instead, she grabbed her oil pastels, knowing that it’d be a messy, shapeless blob. She wasn’t going to draw, she knew that, but the blend of colors on the page might have soothed her.

Lungs constricting and then forcefully retracting, she made her way to the roof, Tikki laying on her bed and watching her with wary eyes.

She supposed this was the reason they didn’t give Miraculous to children most of the time. An adult would have dealt with it all much better, but Marinette?

The second that nighttime air hit her and the door latched again, she felt the tears bubbled up.

All of Paris looked back at her, the streetlights like the gleam of a night sky. Pinks, oranges, yellows, and blues all blended before her. She could hear the life in it all, focus in on the sounds of footsteps against the pavement from a mile or so below. The city in action, thriving because of her. The city she grew up, the only home she’d ever known—the place she lived for.

Once the city of love, now the city of responsibility and hard lessons.

“Pretty girls shouldn’t be crying on rooftops all alone,” a voice said from behind her, and she could have laughed. Because of course it was him, of course he was watching her. He was likely waiting for an akumatization to take place.

Chat Noir, the other hero of Paris. Calm, cool, collected. He wasn’t affected by it all.

A part of her felt bitter about that, but she couldn’t bring herself to dislike him for it. She could never bring herself to dislike Chat.

She hadn’t realized that she’d sunken down to her knees until she felt his arms around her waist, his head over her shoulder. That touch brought her back, made the lights of the city seem less bold. “Hey,” his voice was soft, his arms loose around her as if she might pull away. “Are you okay, Marinette?”

No, a thousand times no, but he knew that. But she didn’t need to respond, merely turn in his arms and cling to his neck, burying her face in his chest.

His hands gently stroked her back, a single finger trailing down her spine. “You’re going to be okay, Marinette,” he said. She wasn’t sure if he was saying it for her benefit or his. “Things like this, they happen. Heartbreak is normal… trust me,” he said, and she only held on tighter. “I know better than anyone else.”

He couldn’t predict that his words would only make it worse.

Deep, heavy sobs shook her, and the urge to be closer reign supreme. She sat on his folded legs without realizing, her hands still tucked around him and not ready to let go. Every strangled cry moved them both, but he said nothing.

He weathered her storm and did not turn away. He always did, even if he didn’t know it. When she was in costume and out, he was the only person who could make her feel normal again.

It would have been so easy to fall for that, to live in that. Easier than Luka, easier than guitar sounds hitting the air rather than feelings. But it was too late for that. Marinette was always too late.

Still, his hands on her waist brought her down again, back to reality, back to him and soft whimpers instead of roaring misery.

“Have you ever sat atop the Grand Palais at night?” He asked once her breathing steadied, his chest moving in the same rhythmic pattern as his.

She had, she’d laid atop the glass roof with him as Ladybug. “No.”

“All the lights reflect off of it, and the cold glass makes you feel like you’re sitting among the stars,” he said, and there was more than a hint of humor to his voice. There was an invitation, unsaid but explicitly addressed to her.

“I came up here to be alone,” she said, her voice small but her body making no move to get off of him.

“Then let’s be alone together,” he smiled and despite herself, despite the dozens of kwamis waiting for her in her room, despite the discarded sketchbook sitting on her room, and despite the responsibility that was crushing her bones…

She smiled too.

[hedgiwithapen]

How about the Leverage Crew arriving in Central City in time for the that time Barry got accused of murdering DeVoe. Basically, Leverage Crew (Classic or Redeption is your choice) meddling in that plan. Because screw DeVoe. Can be in the same universe as The Central City job, or a brand new AU; your choice.

this one Long The courthouse was packed when a sleek black van pulled up to a loading zone. Nathan Ford turned from the passenger seat. “You all know the play?” “Mm, yup,” Parker said, clipping a badge to her blazer pocket. “The Boston skip.” “It’s not the Boston Skip,” Hardison snapped, fussing with his tie.. “You’re just grumpy because you have to play the lawyer again.” Eliot smirked. “Hey, you said only if it comes to a cross examine, I did my job, if you all do your jobs right and it doesn’t come to that,” Hardison’s voice pitched upwards. “If?” Sophie put on the emergency break. “If? Hardison, I’m hurt.” “Soph,” Nate sighed. “Let it go.” “For now. We’re having words later,” Sophie insisted. “Can we just get this over with?” Eliot asked, maneuvering to take the driver’s seat. “ you know I don’t like us splitting up like this.” “It’ll only be for a bit,” Parker said, squeezing his hand. “ We’ll be fine.” They left the van in twos, first Parker and hardison, briefcase and extraneous computer in hand, and a minute or two later Sophie and Nate followed-- and Nate with a plain folder tucked under his arm. Eliot drove in the direction of the police station, ready for the next phase of the plan. They hadn’t exactly called ahead, but that wasn’t going to be much of a problem. Cisco Ramon was the first to spot them. He goggled a bit. “What are you doing here?” he asked as Hardison approached the bench where Team Flash had congregated. Hardison smiled, knowing the prosecutor was watching. “I came to offer my services,” he said, sending a quick text with a thought. “ Where is Ms Horton?” “Here,” the short woman said, her eyes cutting between the two as Cisco checked his phone. “ Who are you? Cisco, who is--” Cisco looked up from the message--you didn’t see us coming?-- and relaxed slightly for the first time in weeks. “I’m part of Mr. Allen’s legal team,” Hardison smiled wide. “He’s ok, Cecile,” Cisco vouched. “ He and his, uh, coworkers have helped us in the past. With Z--wait, that was before you. Um.” “My firm helped get Henry Allen some money, after that unfortunate mess. And we’re here to see justice through again.” He hesitated. “ Or pick up where it leaves off,” he said under his breath. Cecile took in a sharp breath. “When did we hire you?” “Uh--” “Cecile, it’s really ok,” Caitlin joined the cluster. “They know about STAR. And apparently about the recent… developments.” “You think we don’t keep tabs on your crazy city? Now, Ms. Horton, as your co-lawyer, we need to discuss strategy. I’ve got some character witnesses I’d like to introduce, some crucial evidence that needs to be submitted, is there an office we might use?” He steered her away, nodding to Parker, deep in conversation with the prosecutor.

“You let that jerk stick around?” Iris jumped when she heard the voice in her ear. Turning she sighed with recognition. “ Lilli--Sophie?” “In the flesh.” She smiled. “I can’t stay long, but Eliot wanted me to ask.” Iris sighed. “If it’s Eliot asking, I guess you mean Harry. He’s been a lot better since Eliot kicked his ass, that’s for sure. And he has been helpful.” “I’m sure,” Sophie sounded anything but sure. “Listen, we’ve got this pretty well handled, but you and your friends may wish to be ready in case of reprisals. Have you upgraded security lately?” “Cisco’s worked on it,” Iris confirmed. “Good. Hardison would love to take a look, later. We’re probably going to be in the area, we’ve had word something’s fishy at that prison of yours.” When Iris opened her mouth Sophie shook her head. “Iron Heights. Point is, we’ll be around should you need anything.” “Thank you for the offer,” Iris said. She shook her head. “ These people are smart, Sophie. Dangerous.” “Not compared to my team,” Sophie smiled. “Save your worry. Look, see? Hardison’s in place, and Parker’s in the wings. I’ve got to go take care of my part. If you see your husband, let him know, will you?” “I-- sure,” Iris said, and she watched as Sophie stood and walked into a crowd. An entirely different person made her way past a bailiff and into the Juror’s box, leaning over to the man beside her and nodding in the direction of the door Barry Allen had just been escorted through. As Iris stood to take his hand across the gap between his seat and the benches, Sophie gave a little nod to the two of them. “It is strange,” the man said. “But I don’t think we’re meant to discuss the case until we’re in the back.” “Of course not,” Sophie said. “I was just thinking about it, is all. If it were a scene in a mystery novel, I’d call it too obvious.” “You do have a point,” the man agreed. “I’m actually a novelist myself.” “You don’t say,” Sophie smiled. “Classic red herring, am I right? And what a story. Two men in the same family accused of nearly identical murders…” She tapped her com, giving a quick signal. Nate was up. “Ah, a quick word?” Nate stepped away from the wall, flagging down Mrs. DeVoe and her companion. “No,” she snapped, putting on what Nate could see was a reasonably convincing mask of Grieving Widow. Convincing to a mark, maybe. But the Mako was right--you can’t con a conman. “Vultures, all of you.” “Oh, I’m not a reporter.” Nate said easily. He nodded to the tall man at Marlize’s Elbow. “Mr. DeVoe, I’m sure you’ll want to hear what I have to say.” He was pleased to see shock cross the face of Dominic Lanse. The man grabbed him by the arm, yanking him into an empty room. Mrs. DeVoe followed, locking it behind her. “Just so you are aware, there is video footage of you dragging me in here,” Nate said in his most helpful voice. “In case you decide to kill me here, probably not your smartest move.” he glanced around. “Private, though. Good.” He gave his signature infuriating grin. “Make this quick,” Clifford said in Dominic’s voice. “Court begins soon.” “Right, well, that’s going to be your problem.” Nate shrugged. “ Let’s skip the pleasantries. I know everything, about your plan at least. Your computer banks! Normal people couldn’t even find them, so you’ve got that going for you, though the security is lacking once you get past that, so B+. I am not Normal People. I have the best hacker in the multiverse, though, so,” he clicked his tongue in mock dismay, “like I said, my team and I --I’m sure you’re trying to think of who we are right now--know everything.” Marlize glanced at her silent watch, frowning. “Oh, no, no, I’m not a meta.” Nate shook his head. “But the thing is, I don’t have to be to destroy you.” “What--” “Again. I know everything, Thinker. Your basement prison, your hidden files, what you want with that satellite… you really shouldn’t have written everything down… twice even.” He fished a small book out of his pocket, and let them see the plain cover. Clifford’s eyes darkened. “That’s mine.” “Yeah, well, I also have the

multiverse’s greatest thief.” “Our home is under police protection and surveillance. There are officers--” “There right now, I’m aware.” Eliot Spencer, clutching a cup of coffee in one hand, flashed a badge at the pair of officers standing by a door. “Any trouble?” “Nope. She just left for the courthouse. Some work, huh? Just standing here.” “Hmm.“ Eliot agreed. “Though I guess if something did happen, the Flash would swoop in.” “Nine times out of ten,” the first officer agreed. “Or one of his buddies. “ “Maybe 8 times,” the second officer shrugged. “ You new?” “Just transferred from Keystone.” Eliot said. “Not so much nonsense there.” “I hear that. Good to have the backup though.” Eliot nodded. “ You do a walk through?” “Uh, no…. Like I said, no trouble, officer-- “Ted Crichton,” Eliot interrupted. “You haven’t walked through? What if someone’s in there, waiting to assault Mrs. DeVoe when she gets back?” “Well, uh, we don’t have a warrant--” “For crying out loud--” Eliot pulled a paper from his pocket. “See? Now let's go. You stay out here. Who has the back-- does no one have the back door? “ The officers hurried inside. “Don’t forget to check the closets,” Eliot called. -- “ Like I said. Best thief. Best hacker. Now, honestly--and you can run the numbers-- your best bet would be to cut your losses right here, right now. You’re already lying on the stand, so say you were coerced into implicating Mr. Allen--if you need someone to blame I do have a list of patsys that really need the jail time. You do that, put your little plan,” he waggled the book “ back in the box or write it up as the next dystopian best seller for High School English classes to dissect for decades to come, and you can walk away from this.” A laugh. “No one will believe anything you say. That book can’t be traced to me, and even if it could be, it doesn’t prove anything. So someone thinks I’m a supervillain. I’m dead. You have nothing that proves Mr. Allen innocent. You’re out of your mind, Mr. Ford.” “Oh good, you know who I am. Think a little harder.” “As threats go, it’s half baked,” Marlize challenged. “What are you going to do if we refuse? Break Allen out of jail so he can be a fugitive? He’d never go along with it. And the Flash can’t stop us.” “I’d run those numbers again, you’ve left out quite a few variables. But no.” “No?” “If you refuse, if you keep up your little game, lie on the stand, sell that sob story, maybe you're right and the Flash can’t stop you. But he doesn’t need to. I’ll destroy you.” “You.” It was not a question. “For someone claiming to be the smartest man in the world, I’m a bit worried about your memory. I said it already--I’m not here alone. But be my guest. Tell your lies. Right about now the Jury is thinking about what an embarrassment to the city Henry Allen’s trial was and how closely this resembles it… the similarities, the way the timelines don’t quite match up… “ “Really? You’re trying to convince the jury to ignore evidence and go with their hearts? A pathos appeal? That’s not going to work. There’s less than a 3% chance of that even ending in a mistrial, much less acquittal.” “I’m sure that’s what your numbers said,” Nate smiled yet again, this time sharklike. “Cute. I bet you think it’s difficult to get assigned jury duty. “ “It-- we checked all the names. We know--” “You know who they are, yes, yes. But you don’t know who we are. Another sloppy mistake. Now, the jury’s, you're right, not a total slam dunk. So, right now the prosecutor is getting word of some new evidence from a very well respected FBI agent about how helpful the Flash and Mr Allen have both been in assisting with a case against a known human trafficker--you know her, Ammunet Black. The one you bought your puppet from. FBI picked her up…mmm, ten minutes ago? And she had some very interesting things to say. You can guess what they were. Add to that the evidence--” “What evidence?” “The wire transfers between you and Ms. Black. In December and a few days ago. We didn’t even have to fake that first one, but even if the second

one looks a little fishy, the fact that--” “Nate, we got him,” crackled Eliot’s voice in his ear. “--the police just found a metahuman locked in your hall closet--Weeper, I think is what Ms. Black called him-- should make things clear. He wasn’t thrilled about having to stick around much longer but your basement is pretty hard for normal people to find so we had to nudge that a bit. But hey, you’re all for planting evidence. Anyways, court’s in ten minutes…. but the police will be arresting you in about three, if my math’s right-- care to check?-- so I can make this very quick. We have video of you threatening the Flash, holding him prisoner the same night as that wire transfer, proof of Dominic’s powers and sale--my hacker thanks you for all those cameras and bugs, by the way, made his job much easier-- and you add that all up and it sure looks like you got upset at the Flash and Allen for poking into your meta trafficking and decided a frame up was in order.” Nate hefted the folder, “and then there’s this.” “And what,” Marlize asked, shaking with rage, “ is that?” “A copy of files that will be delivered to the FBI, NSA and Dean of Husdson University if you don’t admit to the frame up.” Nate said, thumbing through them. “Proof that you, Mrs. DeVoe, fed information to certain entities across Africa and the Middle East where you were doing your research and aid work to assist in their terror attacks and human trafficking--ties in quite nicely to your work with Ammunet, if I do say so myself. And proof that the “late” Mr. DeVoe plagiarized his thesis, his dissertation, even the syllabi for his classes.” “Lies. No one will believe any of--” “Oh, it’s all very well forged. Except for the bit about the Syllabi. For shame.” Nate tutted. “And part of the dissertation. Can they take away a PH.d posthumously? Anyways, even if it wasn’t, do you really think that no one would believe a man who thinks that giving everyone on the planet late stage Alzheimer’s is going to solve famine and illness? What kind of legitimate history teacher doesn’t know about cholera or the effects of the agricultural revolution? Every lie has a kernel of truth to it.” Nate glanced at the clock on the wall. “Well, that certainly was enlightening. And before you decide to simply kill me, run your little calculations with one more variable: Eliot Spencer.” DeVoe’s brow furrowed and what little color he had drained from his face. “ That’s what I thought. Three.. Two.. one.” Nate raised his voice. “ Help! I’m in here!” The door crashed from its hinges. “The Gloat is the best part,” Parker, FBI badge swinging, put an arm over Barry’s shoulders. He stood with Iris next to her and Eliot as the DeVoes were hauled away. “You know, I think I might have to agree,” Iris said, squeezing Barry’s hand. “Or second best, at least,” she added meaningfully. “So… what now?” Joe asked. “I mean, there’s still… the red tape, but… do we need to be worried? Don’t they still have--” “Oh, that sick chair and computer set up?” Hardison asked with a smirk. “I want it.” Harry announced. “When did you get here?” Hardison asked, affronted. -- Parker held up her badge as she pushed the crate up a ramp into Lucille. “Special Agent Hagen! Let me help you with that,” Agent McSweeten said, taking the dolley handle from her. Parker beamed, patting the side, careful not to dislodge the panel on the side. “Thanks!” -- “Anyways, you can’t just call dibs. You’re too late,” Hardison added, giving Parker a fistbump. “We stole it.”

[beauvibaby]

Wedding Season - j.benn

requested [] yes [x] no

— • being the best friend of Tyler Seguin’s new bride, leads to a deep connection with his friend, Jamie • —

word count: 9.1K

From the moment you got the news that Savannah was engaged to her boyfriend, Tyler, you’ve been dreading the wedding, well, part of the wedding. Savannah, your best friend since you could barely talk, to say she hated your boyfriend, Jeremy, would be an understatement. She could hardly stand to be in the same room as him–she was only letting him come since you were dating him–and with you being in the bridal party, that meant he would have to watch you walk arm in arm with a groomsman. Savannah-Sav, as most people called her, was thrilled about it, despite your protests, you knew it wasn’t worth while, it was her wedding anyways, you wouldn’t push her on it any longer. “I paired you with the cutest groomsman.” Sav giggled before sipping on her wine, your eyes snapped up to hers, “you what?!” You gasped, Tyler looked over from the couch where he was watching hockey highlights, she brushed him off. “Sav, why? You know I’m already going to be dealing with Jeremy being protective, you could’ve given me the least attractive one.” You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face as she painted your toe nails, she chastised you for moving in her grip. “You know, he shouldn’t be protective over you like that, it’s not normal.” She whispered, death gripping your foot. Tyler tuned into the conversation. “Yeah, Y/N, Jeremy is an asshole.” He piped up, ducking when his fiance threw the nail clippers at him. “Ty!” Sav groaned, giving him an exasperated look as you sunk into your seat. “I love him.” You whispered, and Sav’s face softened, “oh, honey.” She sighed, “ok.” She gave in–for the time being at least. Just like clock work, your phone rang, a picture of you and Jeremy covering your screen, she moved away from you as you answered, grabbing her wine and trudging over to bother Tyler while you spoke to your boyfriend.

“Hello?” You answered, picking at your shirts hem, “when are you coming over?” He questioned blatantly, you held back your annoyance, not wanting to give Sav any more motive to dislike him. “I’m with Sav tonight, remember? Getting the last of the wedding stuff together.” You reminded him, plastering a smile on your face when Sav caught your eye, Tyler looking on wearily. “All you’ve been doing is helping her with that damn wedding, I need attention too.” He mumbled like a child, you held in a sigh, “I know, babe, I’ll be there in an hour or so.” You assured him and Sav sighed, shaking her head as she walked past you into the kitchen, dumping the rest of her wine down the sink. She came over and began to finish painting your toenails as Jeremy ranted over the line. “Listen, we’ll talk when I get there, ok?” You cut him off, regretting it slightly when he scoffed. “Yeah, whatever.” And the line went dead. “Y/N-” “Don’t Sav.” You snapped, placing your feet on the ground when she put the cap on the polish. “What did he say?” She questioned, looking up at you with that face, the face that said you should leave him. But she doesn’t get it, you love him, it’s easy, you know what gets him going and what calms him down, you don’t want to learn someone all over again. It’s just easier this way.... “Nothing, uh, I’m gonna head out, I’m sorry.” You spoke softly, gathering your things, feeling terrible when she didn’t even try to stop you, she simply nodded, placing herself down on Tyler’s lap, curling into his protective grip. It made you freeze in your spot, Jeremy wouldn’t do that–No, stop Y/N, don’t compare your relationship.

Tyler looked up at you as his phone lit up, he muttered something to Sav, who solemnly nodded, keeping her eyes on your retreating figure. You were too busy looking at your feet as you walked to your car that you didn’t see the guy walking up the driveway until it was too late. You clipped his foot, “oh my god, I’m sorry.” You rushed, looking up at him, you could tell right away that he wasn’t angry, especially as his eyes took in your flushed cheeks and glossed over eyes. “It’s ok.” He mumbled, smiling softly, but you didn’t return it as you continued to your car, leaving him perplexed on who you were, and why you were leaving Tyler’s house in tears. He didn’t mean to stare, he really didn’t, but his eyes couldn’t pull themselves off your slumped figure in your car as you took shaky breaths. He began to worry, should they be letting you leave like this, “Jamie?” Tyler called from the doorway, he followed his friends gaze and his face fell. “Is she ok?” Jamie questioned, never faltering his gaze, even when you looked up and met his eyes. You managed a teary smile as you finally put your car in reverse, pulling out of the driveway. “Well, she will be, it’s complicated, but you just met the girl you’re walking with at the wedding.” Tyler sighed, placing a hand on his friends shoulder. “I-what? Really?” Jamie gasped softly, finally turning to Tyler, “don’t get too excited, she has a boyfriend, if you can call him that…” he explained, Jamie hid his disappointment with a shrug, “sounds complicated.” He laughed softly, turning to Tyler with a smile, “put me to work, I know you brought me over here for a reason.” He gave him a lazy smile, still surprised that Tyler was going to be married before him.

The guys spent the rest of the night helping Sav finish up her projects for the wedding, despite Tyler’s protests, she wanted some things hand made by herself for the wedding.

***

“Jeremy?” You called into his apartment, getting no response, you sighed, trudging into the slightly dirty place. “Jer?” You called again, shutting the door behind you. He grumbled in response, “sleeping.” You followed his voice to the living room, he was laid out on his couch, reruns of The Simpsons on in the background. “Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll just head out.” You assured him, you wanted him to wake up and tell you to stay, to pull you down to lay with him, like you’ve seen Tyler do so many times with Sav. But he didn’t, he only nodded, giving you a lazy, not very good kiss. You pushed your thoughts aside, he mumbled a love you as he walked to his bedroom, you repeated the words, feeling a small pang in your chest. Surely it had to be all the negative things you’ve been told, they were just getting to your head. That’s all, right? Three years, you’d been with him, it wasn’t easy to just throw out that type of relationship. “Don’t forget to lock the door.” He shouted, you couldn’t even mutter a response, fearing how shaky your voice would come out. You, of course, locked the door on your way out, forcing yourself to keep it together, your emotions were everywhere…

***

The day of the wedding came, and you were helping Sav and her mom get her into the dress, the back being full zipper and buttons, “I’m nervous.” Sav admitted as you walked around to the front of her, you could tell she was on the brink of tears, by the way her voice cracked slightly. “It’s ok to be nervous, it’s a huge commitment, but he’s amazing, Savannah, you know that.” You assured her, grabbing a tissue and very carefully dabbing under her eyes. “Don’t ruin your makeup.” You chastised, the photographer capturing the moment between you two. Sav nodded but then suddenly her face ran pale. “What? What’s wrong?” You panicked, she motioned to the velvet box on the table behind you. “Tyler’s cufflinks, I got them for him, can you bring them to him?” She rushed, you scrambled for the box, knowing the guys would be just about ready to start their Groomsmen photos. “Yes, yeah, be right back!” You laughed, holding your flowy dress up so you didn’t trip as you began speed walking out the bridal suite. You were walking faster than you thought you’d ever be able to do in heels, but with a mission you could do a lot of things. The noise coming from the room at the end of the hall calmed your nerves, they were still there, thank god. “Tyler, it’s Y/N!” You knocked on the door, hearing the noise settle down, Tyler swung the door open a moment later, “what’s wrong?” He rushed, panic evident on his face. “Sav wanted me to give these to you.” You spoke softly, placing the box in his hands, he popped it open and looked at you skeptically. “Well either you grabbed the wrong box, or she wants me to wear a garter.” He turned the box to face you, your face fell, “damn it! Wait here, don’t leave for pictures yet!” You took the box back, shouting it to him as you rushed back down the hall. He leaned on the doorway watching with an amused face as you nearly tripped, “be careful!” Tyler chastised you, snickering when you flipped him off as you barged into the room at the other end of the hall.

“Wrong box, this is your garter!” You giggled, Sav went pink, “oops.” She laughed, her mom helping you find the cuff links. You found them, triple checking that they were the proper ones, you shot her a smile, they were pretty, as pretty as cufflinks could be. You once again went rushing down the hall, being greeted by all of the guys lined up outside the room, the second photographer bouncing on her feet. “I’m sorry!” You apologized, helping Tyler change them out when you reached him. He thanked you profusely, you nodded, securing the second one and adjusting his sleeves. You met his eyes and couldn’t help but smile. “You’re both going to cry.” You laughed, hugging him quickly, “now go, before she kills me!” You pushed him on his way, turning to head back to the bridal suite to put the last touches together. “Y/N?” An unfamiliar voice called, you turned back and saw the guy you had ran into a few days ago, in Tyler’s driveway. “Yes?” You responded, confused as to why he was stopping you. He stepped closer, “your hair, it’s falling here.” He brushed his fingers against the side of your head, the brief contact sent your brain into a spiral, “Jamie?” You put two and two together, Sav had told you his name, but because of conflicting schedules you hadn’t actually met the guy you’d be walking with. “That’s me.” He confirmed, blushing when he pulled his hand back, “better.” He muttered, turning when one of the guys called for him. “See ya.” He smiled, and if smiles could get you, then his surely would have. For a moment you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks, but then you thought of Jeremy sitting out in the ceremony, impatiently waiting for this show to get on the road.

It was a small bridal party, three groomsmen, plus the best man, and three bridesmaids, plus the maid of honor. You latched your arm around Jamie’s as the doors opened, the maid of honor, Sav’s sister, who was very much pregnant, and Tyler’s childhood friend walked down the aisle, taking their respective positions, you and Jamie next. You smiled walking in pace with Jamie who seemed equally as nervous as you, probably feeding off of your emotions. Jeremy smiled at you, “beautiful” he mouthed, you smiled widely at him, any worries you had from the past few days melted away in that moment–meaning you missed the way his eyes hardened when he looked over Jamie’s appearance.

There was no denying that Jamie was attractive, but he was also the complete opposite of Jeremy, more of your usual type. Jamie, with his dark hair, and matching beard, the emotional brown eyes, all the way down to the tattoos that Sav had told you were covering his legs and arm.

Jeremy, he was none of that. Attractive, yes of course, but he was polar opposite of what you described. Red hair, blue eyes, freckles covering his skin, couldn’t grow a beard if his life depended on it. No tattoos, if anything the mention of them made his skin crawl, something you bickered about, whenever you’d say you wanted a tattoo, something small, meaningful, for your dad who you lost years ago. Even that would get him going, so you always dropped it, not wanting to start an argument.

Before you knew it, Sav was entering with her father, her bright blue eyes dancing with tears of happiness as she kept them on Tyler the whole way, his eyes mirroring her own, he wiped at them, but we all knew a couple of tears fell. Same goes for Sav, who was trying to keep it together, and succeeding very well thus far.

When they reached the altar, Tyler shook her father's hand, her father turned to his one and only daughter, giving her a big kiss on the cheek, telling her he loves her before she stepped up in front of Tyler. “So beautiful.” Tyler whispered, having to keep himself from kissing her then and there. You all had wide smiles on your face the entire time, you met Jamie’s eyes once or twice throughout the ceremony, his face was stoic, showing no emotions, but his eyes showed everything, the happiness he had for his friend clear on display for anyone who cared to notice. Again, another difference to Jeremy, your boyfriend was never good with emotions, his eyes showed nothing, and he didn’t use his words all that well, not even his actions.

You came to your senses as you heard the words, “you may now kiss the bride!” And in an instant, Tyler had Sav pulled up into his arms, one hand on her back, the other cupping her cheek as they shared an appropriately passionate kiss, pulling away slowly as everyone began cheering. You had a teary smile on your face, clapping your hands up above your head for affect, your best friend laughing at you, but her eyes showed her appreciation for everything you’ve done to help her get to this day.

The photos flew by in a breeze, and before you knew it, you were walking into the reception, shooting Jamie a smile as you parted ways, dancing lightly to the music playing, a simple action but both of you had huge smiles on your faces, as well as the other groomsmen and bridesmaids as they copied your actions. You made your way to where Jeremy was sitting, pulling up your chair beside his, “hi babe.” You smiled, relieved when he pulled you in for a deep kiss. “There’s my girl.” The way he put the emphasis on my, made your skin crawl slightly, but what caught your attention more, was the taste of alcohol on his lips, of course, during photos, the guests were having cocktail hour, but you never thought he would choose here of all places to get this tipsy. You debated on saying anything, but you didn’t as the DJ began speaking, “now, let’s welcome, for the first time Mr and Mrs Seguin!” He cheered, more claps and shouts erupting throughout the room, Jeremy gave a half assed clap and smile when you glared at him. You grinned as they walked in and immediately went into their first dance, the sight warming your heart, you dabbed under your eyes with your napkin, turning in your seat to face Jeremy, now most people who went to weddings with their significant others, especially after being together this long, would both be thinking how this would be them one day. You could tell by the stone cold look in Jeremy’s eyes, neither of you were having those thoughts, but that would be saved for another time.

Dinner was delicious, of course you expected nothing less from the two of them.

Now it was time for the cliches before the night faded into dancing, first up, the bouquet toss. All of the ladies in the room stood and gathered up behind Sav, she threw the bouquet back behind her, and who else could it have come right to, but of course yourself. “Y/N!” Sav shouted when she turned and saw you holding it with a blush. You smiled nervously, it was a silly tradition, and of course it didn’t truly mean you’d be the next to wed, but of course your eyes instantly landed on Jeremy who was nursing another drink, a lazy smile on his lips, you mirrored his look as Tyler slid a chair out to the middle of the dance floor for Sav, oh the beloved garter tradition.

Her cheeks a bright red as Tyler slipped his hands under the full skirt of her dress, keeping his eyes on hers the whole time, he pulled the simpler garter down, the one meant for tossing, while the other stayed adorning her thigh, something for the two of them to know was there. You smirked as the guys all fought over who would be closest to Tyler as he threw it, well–all except one. Jamie stayed relatively still, not seeming to want the attention, but of course, as it flew towards his face, he reached out and caught it, an instinct most likely but everyone oohed and gasped. Looking between the two of you, instantly you glared at Sav. She had told you, assuming whoever caught the bouquet and the garter were ok with it, that he would put the garter on the bouquet catch. It was an adult only reception after all, no impressionable young kids here to see the action. You practically ran over to her, Jamie doing the same to Tyler. “Are you ok with it?” She asked instantly and you gave her a look. “I’m more worried about Jeremy.” You deadpanned, she hid the way her face wanted to fall, the crowd cheering you on. “We don’t have to, I won’t do it if you’re not ok with it.” Jamie piped up, smiling softly at you, the action not going unnoticed by Sav and Tyler, unknowing to you two, their little plan was working, much easier than they thought it would. You took the champagne flute from Sav’s grip, downing it and handing it back. “You only live once right.” You shrugged, turning to Jamie, smiling before walking to the seat Sav had been in.

Jeremy looked on, too far gone to process what was happening until Jamie got down on his knees in front of you. The sound of Jeremy’s chair sliding back took everyone's attention, he was about to stand, but as everyone looked at him, you gave him a stone cold look, one he normally ignores, but for some reason, much to your relief, he nodded and slid his chair back in. “Alright, what are you waiting for?” You spoke loudly to Jamie, pulling everyone’s attention back to you two. He nervously laughed, slipping the white lace band over your heel, beginning to slowly draw it up your leg, he was calm and not flushed until he reached your knee. Once his hand dipped over the curve, both of you got a little red, the crowd hooting and hollering, Sav and Tyler the loudest, watching as their two best friends shared what most would call an intimate moment. He stopped the band at mid thigh, you shivered slightly at the contrast of his rough hands on your smooth skin, he hesitated before coming to his senses and slipping his hands out from under your dress, standing to his feet. You followed, and everyone clapped as you two parted ways.

The second you reached Jeremy, he was whisking you off and out of the reception space, thankfully though, no one noticed as they all got caught up in talking and dancing. “What was that?” He snapped, pinning you against the wall, you clenched your legs together, still thinking of the feeling of Jamie’s hand on your skin, that mixed with the way Jeremy had you pinned against the wall, had your brain spinning, trying to figure out how to come to your senses and push him off of you. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, cupping his cheek, trying to calm his emotions, “I promise, it will be worthwhile when we get back to my place.” You added, knowing it would get through to him, and you also knew that you shouldn’t have to bribe him with sex to get him to calm down. You knew that wasn’t right, but you couldn’t think about that now, all that mattered was getting back in there before anyone noticed your absence. Jeremy nodded, kissing you roughly, his hand slipped under the dress, yanking the garter off, breaking it in half. “Jeremy!” You gasped, the material snapping against your skin, undoubtedly leaving a small welt. “Should have thought of that before, baby.” He muttered, shoving the ripped fabric into his pocket before pulling you back into the room by your hand, a smile on his face like nothing happened.

Like nothing happened… the thought ran through your mind all night, through the rest of the wedding, and even when you got back to his place, apparently he’d rather have his way with you there. The only peace you got was when he finally fell asleep, tired from the sloppy sex, and the alcohol still flowing through his veins. You slipped into his bathroom, cleaning yourself up before laying back in the bed, keeping as much distance between the two of you as you could. For the first time in your relationship, you felt like an outsider looking in, seeing how truly wrong this situation was. And that’s how you fell asleep, the thought burning a hole into your mind.

***

You were house sitting for Tyler and Sav while they were on their honeymoon, well, only part of the time they were gone. Jamie was coming tomorrow to take over for the remainder of their trip, you were busy cooking your dinner when the doorbell rang, the dogs running over and jumping around, you assumed it was just a package, so you ignored it, and figured you’d grab it when you were done, but the doorbell went off again and you sighed, pushing the pan off the hot stove burner. You trudged over to the door, shushing the dogs, they listened and sat behind you like a barrier, you peeked out the side window and furrowed your brows when you saw Jamie standing outside with a duffel bag over his shoulder. “Jamie? I thought you didn’t come until tomorrow?” You spoke with a smile as you opened the door, he stepped in with furrowed eyebrows, kicking his shoes off, “no, it’s today.” He checked his phone, confirming the date with you. You went red, “oh, well uh this is kind of awkward.” You started off, “my boyfriend is coming over to have dinner with me.” You trailed, watching as he nodded with an understanding smile, he went to put his shoes back on, “I can come back in the morning, it’s no big deal.” He assured you, your phone ringing in your pocket, you pulled it out and answered instantly when you saw it was Jeremy. “Hey, baby, I won’t be able to make it tonight, stuck at work.” He rushed the second you answered, your face fell and Jamie froze as he noticed. He stood back up to his full height, one shoe on, one off as he watched you hesitantly. “Oh.” You whispered, Jeremy shushed someone in the background, “that’s ok.” You added, not wanting to deal with angering him right now. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You spoke to him, stepping back so Jamie could come in. “Yeah,” Jeremy paused, mumbling to someone else, “yeah tomorrow, bye.” He hung up, leaving you in shock.

“Everything ok?” Jamie questioned carefully, unsure of his boundaries with you, his politeness was sweet, but you really wanted to tell him he could ask whatever he wanted after having his hands that far up your dress. “Well, Jeremy actually can’t make it, but I already had dinner started, if you want.” You rushed your words out, suddenly embarrassed to be asking, despite you both being adults. “Sure.” He answered quickly, brushing it off by bending down to pet the dogs. Jamie watched with lingering eyes as you solemnly walked back into the kitchen, your mood clearly deflated, it bothered him, to see someone like you, someone so sweet, to be treated so poorly. He shook his head to himself, following behind you into the kitchen, a sigh wanting to fall from his lips but he held it in as he told the dogs to go lay down. Dinner was nothing fancy, you had just been making some simple chicken, broccoli and potatoes, but you slipped the bottle of wine you had pulled out, back into its spot. You tried to keep conversation with Jamie, talking about random things, both of you bouncing off each other, you laughed softly at something he said, but your mind bounced back to Jeremy, wondering who he had been talking to.

Of course, the first thought was a girl, as much of a jerk as he was, you didn’t think he’d stoop that low, but he’d surprised you before. You hadn’t realized you went silent, sipping on your water until Jamie stood, asking if you were done with your plate. “Oh, yes, I’ll do it, it’s fine.” You scrambled to your feet, used to doing it all. He furrowed his brows, a soft laugh, a comforting noise you were coming to know, falling from his lips. “Y/N, you cooked, I can handle washing a few dishes.” He assured you, taking the plate from your hands, also taking note of the shocked look on your face. A look that you certainly shouldn’t have from the simple action of him doing the dishes. The whole time he was doing the dishes, he was trying to think of a reason for you to stay a little longer, he knew it was wrong—you had a boyfriend, a crappy one, but still, Jamie wasn’t like that. He would respect the fact that you chose to stay with Jeremy, despite him hating how he treated you. Jamie also racked his brain for why he cared so deeply about you staying, he hardly knew you, he had no reason to be this infatuated with you, aside from the physical attraction of course, he thought you were gorgeous, from the second you stepped on his foot in the driveway, all the way until now how you sat at the dining room table, your face blank as you ran your own thoughts through your mind.

“I should get my things, uhm, thank you for cleaning up.” You rushed your words together, feeling the nausea rise in your stomach, mind still on Jeremy. “Oh, you–“ he stopped speaking when your phone rang through the silent kitchen, you rushed to pick it up, stomach dropping to the floor when you saw Jeremy’s name again. You hesitated to answer it, something that most definitely didn’t go unnoticed by Jamie, who watched skeptically as he dried his hands, as you picked up the phone, he slid past you, giving you some privacy as you mumbled a hello into the device. You were about to hang up when you didn’t get a response, assuming he dialed by mistake and didn’t realize it, but then your heard movement, you froze, the sound of a zipper being undone. You held your breath, a hand coming over your mouth to muffle your gasp as you heard a woman moan. You quickly hung up the phone, slamming it onto the counter, you took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the sensation rushing up your throat, but you couldn’t, so you took off down the hall to the closest bathroom. Not even having a chance to shut the door, barely being able to kneel in front of the toilet in time, your dinner exiting your stomach. “Shit, Y/N, are you alright?” Jamie called, staying in the hall to give you privacy. You went to speak but only dry heaved into the toilet, “just great.” You croaked out, flushing the toilet and scrambling to your feet.

You rinsed your mouth out with water before grabbing your toothbrush that you had yet to pack away, Jamie rounded the corner when you went silent, mostly just wanting to make sure you were ok. He met your gaze in the mirror, staying silent as he gave you an apologetic smile, making his way to the living room again. You followed after you were done brushing your teeth, eyes burning with tears, a mix of shock from what you just heard, and partly because of how your throat was still burning. “I’m going to get my things.” “Do you want to talk about it?” You and Jamie spoke at the same time, his question rang in your ears, it’s been so long since someone asked that, a man no less. You stayed silent, “I-uh-you don’t have to, obviously!” He rushed out awkwardly, “you can stay, maybe you should just rest, you don’t look too good.” He added, watching when you raised an eyebrow, “not like that, I mean you just got sick and you shouldn’t drive, probably. I don’t know, Jesus, I’ll shut up now.” He stumbled over his words, blushing furiously from his spot on the couch. You let out a breathy laugh, going to grab your phone from the kitchen before sitting beside him on the couch, a little closer than you probably would’ve normally. But he didn’t seem to mind, so neither did you. “Thanks, Jamie.” You mumbled, glancing over at him, he nodded, “no problem.” He answered, too easily for his liking, “we know Sav would have my head on a platter if she found out I let you leave like that.” He added, laughing along with you, relieved that you found it funny rather than embarrassing.

The silence became overbearing, he could see you getting into your head again, so he turned on the TV, putting on some random comedy show, chuckling along with it every so often. He glanced over at you and saw a few silent tears rolling down your cheeks, what he wanted to do was pull you into his arms and tell you everything was going to be ok, that you deserved better, because you did, you really did deserve so much better. And if anyone asked, Jamie would say he thought you deserved better than even he could give you. But, you hardly knew him, so he couldn’t really do that, without seeming like a creep. So he settled on telling you a story about his brother, nearly dropping the baby and how his sister in law nearly whacked him on the spot. It got a chuckle out of you—granted, the tears were still flowing, but he took that as a win, so he continued. Telling you anything remotely funny, and he kept doing so, until you finally caved, the tears slowing, eyes still a little watery when you couldn’t help but hug him. “Oh.” He was surprised, and you panicked about to pull away, the second he felt you loosening your grip, he wrapped his arms back around you, “thank you, Jamie.” You whispered. He nodded against you, thankful you couldn’t see the blush on his cheeks as you stayed in his embrace, for maybe a little longer than you should have, but it felt so good, so nice to not be pushed away, to be held.

The whole time Jamie was hugging you, he was doing everything to memorize the way it felt, unsure if he’d ever get to do it again. When you two finally separated, neither of you said anything, but you stayed close to him, eventually ending up tucked under his arm as your eyes fluttered closed, he should have woken you up, told you to head to bed, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, so he stayed, despite losing the feeling in his arm. He stayed until he himself started drifting off, his head laid back on the top of the couch, and he knew–he definitely knew, it would hurt in the morning, but to him it was worth the sore neck, if this was at all making you feel remotely better.

After that, the two of you developed a quick friendship, learning the ins and outs of each other’s personalities and lives in an instant. He knew that you worked the same schedule every week, he knew you always went grocery shopping on sundays, he knew you always had a small pile of laundry in your room that never went into your closet, he knew that Tuesday nights were reserved for the bachelorette, and that Sunday’s were for 90 day fiancé.

Just like you knew that whenever he had a home game, he would always stop at this local burger joint, and get the same exact order everytime, loading it up with veggies to make it seem less against his diet. You knew he wanted a dog, but wouldn’t get one until he was engaged to someone “I couldn’t leave the dog with a stranger”, you knew he would be coming by tonight too, which is exactly why you had bought a little extra food when you went grocery shopping today.

Jeremy, you had yet to deal with that situation, even after a month since you heard that girl over the phone, you just ignored it, he acted like it never happened, and so did you—your phone dinged, shaking you from your spiraling thoughts. Sav’s name on the screen,

“Did you take it yet????”

You shook your head, looking at the one bag you had shoved in the corner of your kitchen, despite her not being able to see you.

“No, Jamie will be here soon, I’ll take it after he leaves. Promise!”

She read your response immediately.

“You better, you need to know.”

You didn’t respond, what was there for you to say? You knew just as well as she did that you had to take the test that was sitting in the plastic bag. It was speculation, really, you’d felt a little off, and then you noticed you didn’t get your period right away, like you normally do. Of course, instantly Sav went pale, telling you to take a test, just to be sure. You kept telling her it was stress, but you wouldn’t tell her that the stress was your boyfriend cheating on you.

You made your way over to the bag, pulling the box from it, reading over the label, the instructions, despite already knowing how to take one. This isn’t your first time having a slip up. “Y/N?” Jamie called, pushing the front door open, you gasped, dropping the box on the counter, startled by his sudden appearance. “I was knocking but you didn’t answer.” He spoke again when he met your eyes over the kitchen counter, the front door having a straight shot to the kitchen. “Oh, sorry I was just-“ “are you crying?” He cut you off, pushing the door shut and making a quick walk over to you. He didn’t even see the box on the counter as he stood in front of you. “No.” You answered, voice cracking, “not yet at least.” You added when he gave you the look, the look that said don’t lie to me. “What did he do?” Jamie sighed, pulling you in for a hug, you shook your head against his chest, “I can’t.” You tried to discreetly reach for the box on the counter but he felt your movement. His eyes followed your hand and you could feel his frame fall when he could see the label on the box, first response. He stepped away from you.

“Are you?” He trailed off, suddenly seeming like he felt out of place in your apartment, the place he’d grown so used to seeing. “I don’t know, I, I’m afraid to take it.” You admitted, looking up at him with wide eyes. His face softened, he wasn’t sure what to say, because all he knew is he wasn’t the guy you should be telling about this. “I’m going to be alone, if it’s positive.” You whispered, you knew Jeremy, and you knew if it was positive, he wouldn’t want to keep it, but you could never do such a thing, having kids was always a part of your dream. Even if it was with as terrible of a person as him, that baby would be half you and that gave you hope. “You won’t be alone, you have Sav, and your mom, even Tyler,” Jamie paused, “and me.” He added, you nodded, reaching for the box. He went wide eyed, allowing you to drag him to sit in your room while you took the test. The whole time you were in the bathroom, his mind was racing.

He’d always assumed, when he was with someone who was taking a pregnancy test, it would be his wife, or his girlfriend at least, the lady he loved—and while he was certain that you were becoming the image in his head when he thought of the future. This wasn’t that moment, no, he was here with you, while you took the test for what could be another man's baby. He heard you sniffling from behind the bathroom door, and he wanted to barge in there, he wanted to go in there and hug you and tell you that no matter what the test said, you’d be okay, but he couldn’t. Because, truthfully, he would be lying. If you were pregnant, he had a feeling that he knew the reaction Jeremy would have. If it was negative, he knew on some level you’d be heart broken, and worse off, he knew you’d continue to put up with Jeremy and his nonsense.

You stared at the back of the test, flipping it upside down to wait, otherwise you’d stare at it until you saw a line that wasn’t there. You could hear Jamie bouncing his feet, you felt bad, you probably made him uncomfortable. He shouldn’t be here while you did this, he should be oblivious to what was happening.

The alarm on your phone went off, and you heard Jamie shoot up off the bed when you turned it off, you flipped the test over, scanning it over, once, twice, three times before you let out a cry of relief. Negative. Jamie knocked on the door, “Y/N, are you ok?” He mumbled through the door, he stepped back when you swung the door open. “Negative.” You whispered, smiling, a tearful one, but still, he could tell you were slightly relieved, which helped his shoulders release some tension. “I’m sorry, I dragged you into this.” You apologized, throwing the test out as he watched warily, “it’s ok, you have nothing to apologize for.” He assured you, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath while you were distracted. You texted Sav, simply telling her negative. To which she shot a thumbs up in return, probably biting her tongue from saying something else about how you should break up with Jeremy.

Jamie stayed, right up until your show was about to start, he left with a soft goodbye, “tell me if you need anything, yeah?” He mumbled, giving you one last look, your eyes bloodshot and puffy from your emotions from earlier. “I will.” You called, watching him disappear out the door.

***

It was three days later when you were watching the game on the TV, smiling every time they showed Jamie or Tyler. You were waiting for Jeremy to come over, you were going to tell him about the test, despite it being negative, you thought it would be best that he knew. The door being knocked on made your heart drop, uncertain for how this was gonna go, you turned the TV off, walking over to the door, taking some shaky breaths, twisting the lock, you turned the knob and Jeremy was smiling right at you.

“Hey, baby.” He murmured, stepping in and instantly kissing you deeply, hungrily, it made your skin crawl, you lightly pushed him off of you. “We need to talk.” You whispered, and he went blank, nervous even a little. “About?” He pried, shutting the door behind him, you walked over to the couch, sitting on the edge of it, he joined you, hesitantly. Once he sat, you took a deep breath, “I took a pregnancy test a couple of days ago.” You started and before you had a chance to even blink, he was on his feet, tugging at his ginger hair. “You what?!” He barked out, his eyes stone cold, “you can’t keep it.” He demanded and that pushed you over the edge, all the months—the years of bullshit you put up with, came to a surface.

“It was negative.” You stood to your feet, arms crossed over your chest, “if you had let me finish, you would’ve known that, but I’m glad you didn’t. I’m done, Jeremy, the fact that you think you had that type of dictation over my life—my body! Is utter bullshit, we’re done.” You spoke harshly, standing your ground, in some sick way, you expected him to grovel, like most men like him do, but he didn’t. He simply scoffed, giving you a once over. “You must’ve really let yourself go then,” the venom dripping from his voice made your skin crawl, “a shame, you were nice to look at.” He added, walking out of your apartment like the last three years didn’t happen. You didn’t even feel remorse, how could you? After that, you felt liberated if anything. You pulled your phone out, calling Sav before you could think better of it, she answered after a few rings, cheers filling your ears before you heard her. The game, oh the game, you scrambled to turn the game back on while she asked if you could hear her. “I broke up with Jeremy!” You spoke loudly into the phone so she could hear you, “you what?!” She shrieked in excitement, you laughed to yourself. “I’m going to the bar, the one we used to go to before you met Tyler. Meet me after the game?” You questioned, smiling at the score on your screen, Dallas was up by two. “Yes! Of course!” She answered, “I’ll meet you there!” And then she hung up.

You were at the bar, for probably an hour, before Sav showed up, Tyler and Jamie in tow. She hadn’t expected to find you this intoxicated, you weren’t much of a drinker, but once you started, it was hard to stop, you had barely touched a drink since you had been with Jeremy, he didn’t like the way you acted drunk. So you stopped drinking.

You didn’t get like this often, that’s what you told yourself, to rid yourself of any guilt as you nursed another Long Island ice tea, the worst type of drink to get because it didn’t taste like alcohol, which meant you didn’t realize how many you had truly consumed. “Y/N?” Sav questioned, placing a hand on your shoulder, Jamie and Tyler at the bar ordering their own drinks, you grinned at your best friend. “Hi!” You sang, dramatically throwing your arms around her neck, she barely managed to stay upright when you put most of your weight in her control. “Oh, you’ve had more than enough to drink.” She chastised you, steadying herself against the booth. “Jamie-“ you cut yourself off with a hiccup, “Jamie knows I took a test.” You slurred, water springing to your eyes, you were an emotional and heartfelt drunk, which is why Sav knew the words about to come out of your mouth would be nothing but sincere.

“He was so nice, and-and he said I wouldn’t be alone.” You sniffled, Sav laughed at your overly emotional confession, “that’s sweet, honey.” She assured you, expecting that to be the end of the conversation. Neither of you saw Jamie and Tyler approaching through the crowd, which is why she let you continue your rant. “I like him, a lot. Savyyy, he’s so pretty, and nice to me.” You giggled girlishly, Jamie’s face fell, not hearing who you were talking about. “Maybe you should tell Jamie how you feel.” She offered advice, knowing you would be to drunk to remember this in the morning, or so she hoped. Tyler grinned at his friend, Jamie stared at the two girls, shock evident on his features. “Did she just say my name?” He asked Tyler, making sure he wasn’t going crazy, the smile on his face was answer enough. “Damn right she did!” He clapped his slightly taller friend on the back before making their presence known. Sav gasped, covering it with a cough when she saw them, and she could tell they had heard your confession, she could only hope that Jamie would do something about it.

“Hi, Y/N.” Tyler laughed, watching you lazily look up, Sav smirked, “here you go, Jamie.” She passed your deadweight on to him, he easily wrapped an arm around your waist, steadying you from the transition. He glared at the husband and wife as they snuck away to have some drinks of their own, “Jamie?” You whispered, voice slurring a little, combined with the loudness filling the bar, he almost didn’t hear you. “Yeah?” He glanced down, hiding the way he felt panicked, not sure what you were going to say. “I broke up with him.” You mumbled, hiding your face in his shirt, feeling the room spin a little at your confession. He felt the sway in your body and placed his other hand on your upper back, keeping you steady against him. “Are you ok?” He asked, referring to the break up, you looked up with a smile, “I told him about the test,” you shrugged, sobering only slightly at the thought, but your words still ran together, “he told me I couldn’t keep it, if I was, and that I let myself go.” You giggled, catching Jamie off guard, “so I dumped his ass!” You gleamed, and Jamie couldn’t help but to smile down at you. “Good.” He cupped your cheek, catching a drunk tear that escaped, not mentioning it since you didn’t even notice it slip from your eye. His hand lingered, but he didn't mind, and you definitely didn’t mind as you all but melted into, the warmth it brought, making your tiredness begin to set in.

Jamie chuckled at the yawn you tried to disguise, “let me get you an Uber.” He mumbled, pulling his phone out, normally you’d protest, but you didn’t, you stayed silent as you rested against him, Tyler and Sav watching from afar, they saw the way they looked at each other in the way you and Jamie looked at one another. They were shocked, honestly, by how quickly their two best friends started falling for each other, but who were they to judge, their relationship had developed quickly as well, and look at them now, married.

He waited outside with you until the Uber came, wanting to make sure you got in it safely, “Jamie, can you come with me?” You whispered at the last second, he was shocked by the sudden invitation. “Please, I-I’m scared, what if Jeremy is there?” You looked up at him with wide eyes, much like the ones when you took the pregnancy test, terror dancing in them. He gave in, “yeah, I’ll come.” He whispered, unable to keep himself from kissing your forehead, guiding you into the backseat as he followed.

The ride to your apartment was short and silent, as you could barely keep your eyes open, Jamie occasionally nudging you to keep you awake, something else he knew about you, was that once you were asleep, you were miserable if woken up.

Jamie unlocked the door, using your key as you leaned against the wall, yawning, much to both of yours relief, there was no sign of Jeremy. So as he let you in to your apartment, he assumed he could leave, but he could tell by the way you walked that there was no way you’d make it to your room in one piece. He slipped an arm under your shoulders, guiding you to your room, stifling back his own laughs when you nearly stepped on his foot, more than once. “Don’t laugh.” You whined, pouty lips covering your face, he nodded, “sorry.” He mumbled, smiling at how cute you looked. He got you to your bed, sitting you on the edge, helping you take your jacket and shoes off. You laid down instantly, shimmying to get under your covers, “goodnight.” You breathed out, eyes already shut, breathing evening out directly after. Jamie smiled, pulling the blanket over you, pushing your hair back, off of your face. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He whispered, lips ghosting over your forehead for a second time tonight. He found your Advil and put it on your nightstand before leaving, making sure to lock the door behind him. His mind racing as he thought of if he should tell you he heard you tonight.

***

If you could smack someone through a phone you would, as you woke up with a pounding headache and Sav calling your phone, the noise sounding ten times louder than it actually is. “Before you say it’s too early, it’s nearly eleven, I let you sleep in.” She spoke, and you could picture the smirk on her face. “What do you want?” You groaned, rubbing at your eyes, sitting up and ignoring the lightheaded spell. “Do you remember what you told me last night?” Sav sang, you could hear her moving around her house, always having a project to keep her busy. “Yes, actually.” You remembered it as vividly as a hungover person could. You told her you liked Jamie, “oh? Well, then I should tell you…” she trailed off, making your eyes go wide, “oh my god! Did I tell him?” You asked loudly, wincing when your head started pounding. Sav laughed into the phone, “no, but he heard you.” She admitted, and you went pale, or so you imagined you did. “Oh my god.” You whispered, “oh my god, that’s so embarrassing!” You whisper shouted, pinching the bridge of your nose. “How am I supposed to face him?” You whined, throwing yourself back on the bed. “Don’t know, you’ll just have to do it.” Sav mumbled, “maybe he’ll bring it up, he does feel the same way after all.” She declared. “He what!?” You gasped, “it’s so obvious, he’s been looking at you like you were the best thing he’s ever seen.” She deadpanned, making your heart race just a little bit.

***

Two weeks, you’ve been waiting two whole weeks, knowing that Jamie knew what you said, and him acting like it never happened, has only made it feel like more than that short time. You were growing impatient, the more you thought about it, the more you wanted it to happen. He’d seen you more than enough times to say it, but everytime, it was like he was clueless. You’d even tried being a little extra touchy, to see if he would break, but he didn’t.

Even now, while you watched one of the many reality drama shows you watched, with your feet across his lap, his hand lazily resting on them as he tried to follow what the women on TV were shouting about. “Y/N, I’m confused, why are they…” he trailed off when he looked over and you were totally spaced out, picking at your nails. He pinched your ankle and laughed when your eyes shot over, “ow?” You quipped, sliding your feet off his lap. The first gesture he’s done in these two weeks was this one, as he grabbed your feet, keeping them in place, he began to trace patterns into your skin. “I know, what you said that night.” He admitted, you nodded, “I know that you know.” You admitted and this time he looked at you with wide eyes. “Sav told me.” You whispered, he nodded, his hand moving up your leg a little, resting on your knee. “I’ve been waiting for you to do something about it.” You spoke softly, keeping your eyes in his, watching the way he went through his emotions, shock, relief, and then just a touch of adoration. “I didn’t know if there was a time frame, you know, since you just dumped that prick.” Jamie shrugged, you stifled back a laugh as you reached for his shirt, tugging him closer by it. “I’d say two weeks is plenty of time, considering how long I was thinking about this other guy…” you mumbled, moving closer to him. His hands went to your waist, pulling you over to him with ease, pulling you into his lap, and holding you tightly. “Oh no, not another guy.” He teased, playing with the ends of your hair, you sighed, at the simple touch. “Jamie, if you don’t kiss me, I swear-“ he cut you off, pushing his lips to yours, his hands curling in your hair, while you ran your fingers down the back of his neck.

You whined, chasing his lips when he pulled away, “don’t worry, plenty more of that, after the first date.” He assured you, laughing when you complained.

*** epilogue ***

The white dress trailed behind you and Jamie as you walked into the room, “for the first time, as Mr and Mrs Benn!” The announcer spoke, Jamie pulled you in for a kiss as everyone cheered. His arms circling around your waist, squeezing you tight, but not too tight as you pulled him to the dance floor.

“Mrs. Benn.” He teased, holding a hand out for you, smiling when you took it with glee, allowing him to spin you into him, “careful.” You giggled, steadying yourself with a hand to his chest. He snaked his other hand over your stomach, before bringing it to rest on your back with the other. “Baby Benn can stay our little secret for just a little while longer.” You mumbled, arms around his neck. He nodded in agreement, kissing your forehead before ducking down to catch your lips. “I agree.” His voice was soft, as if people would hear you two talking over the music. “I love you.” He added, “I love you too.” You murmured, resting your head on his chest, soaking up this moment where it felt like just the two of you… well, technically three of you.

taglist: @starkeysdunn​ @kempe​ @vincecdunn​ @literarycharleton​ @wtfkie​ @jackiesquinn

[livesincerely]

[Bits & Bobs] we’ll be on the road like some country song

AKA the Run Away With Me Fic

00000

Davey nearly loses his nerve about a hundred times in between dialing the number and Jack answering. The phone seems to ring forever⁠—for a moment he thinks that Jack’s not going to pick up and that will be that⁠—but somehow, incredibly, the call connects.

“‘Ello?” Jack rumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

Davey opens his mouth but no sound comes out, his words smothered down by a sudden wave of bitter, scalding doubt. What is he doing?

“Davey? Are you there?”

He needs to hang up. He needs to hang up, needs to stop bothering Jack and let him sleep, needs to pull himself together and just get it over with because there’s no point in putting it off, no point in pretending like there’s anything to be done except accept the fact that… The fact that he… 

He’s holding his cellphone so tightly that the plastic creaks under his fingers, his lungs straining in his chest and his stomach churning and churning. He tries to calm himself, breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, just like you’re supposed to, but it feels like no matter how hard he tries he can’t get enough air.  

“Guess not,” Jack murmurs to himself, voice trailing away.

Panic seizes Davey like a hand around his throat.

“Jack,” he gasps out. “Jackie, wait.”

“Dave?” Jack asks. “Hey, what’s⁠—”

“Jackie,” Davey says again, because he can’t figure out how to say anything else. “I—“

“What’s wrong?” Jack says, his tone spiking with alarm. “Are you okay?”

Davey presses a hand to his mouth, hot, shuddering breaths stifled by his palm. His vision clouds over, his bedroom fading into a shapeless, colorless blur, and it’s only then that Davey realizes that he’s crying⁠, tears streaming down his face. 

“David,” Jack says. “Are you okay?”

Davey’s shoulders shake. He tries to explain⁠—instead, he sobs.

“I’m coming over,” Jack says, and there’s a flurry of movement on his side of the line: the rustle of bedsheets thrown back, the clattering of car keys, soft, hurried footsteps. 

“You don’t have to,” Davey chokes out, because he didn’t call intending to drag Jack out of bed in the middle of the night. He just didn’t know what else to do. “Nothing’s wrong, Jackie, I’m not hurt or anything⁠—”

“Bullshit, you ain’t hurt,” Jack says sharply. “You’re crying.”

“But you don’t have to⁠—”

“I’m coming over,” Jack says, in that voice that says he’s made up his mind and there’s no talking him out of it. “Give me ten minutes, okay? I’ll be right there.”

Davey sniffs, feeling at once horribly pathetic and unspeakably relieved. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay.”

“Do you want me to stay on the line?” Jack asks.

Yes, Davey thinks, because the last thing he wants is to be alone with his thoughts. Instead, he says, “You shouldn’t be on the phone while you’re driving. You can hang up.”

Jack hesitates. “Ten minutes,” he says eventually. “I’m already in the car.”

“Okay,” Davey whispers. “Ten minutes.”

Even though he’s expecting him, Davey still jumps when Jack finally knocks on his bedroom window. 

He half crawls, half staggers over. His hands are trembling so badly he almost can’t get the latches unlocked, but he eventually manages to get the window open. 

“Are you okay?” Jack demands as he clambers inside. He’s dressed like he literally rolled out of bed and drove straight here⁠—he’s thrown a thin jacket on over his shirtless torso, the bottoms of his sweatpants wet with dew and littered with grass clippings, his feet shoved hastily into a pair of his mother’s slippers instead of his shoes. “What’s wrong, what happened?”

Davey can’t help but wilt in the face of such genuine concern, guilt and shame spreading like twin frosts across the plains of his heart.

“Jack,” he starts, curling in on himself. “Jackie, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have called you, it’s nothing, really, nothing I can’t handle myself, I’m sorry I woke you up, I⁠—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jack says, stepping forward and taking him gently by the shoulders. Davey’s frantic ramblings peter out. “Breathe for me, alright, Dave? I need you to breathe for me.”

“Sorry,” Davey says again, struggling to do as he’s asked. “It’s nothing, it’s stupid, honestly, I don’t know why I’m being so⁠—”

“Davey,” Jack interrupts, eyes serious. “Nothing that’s got you this upset is stupid. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

It shouldn’t feel like as huge of a question as it does. Davey doesn’t even know where to start, and the thought of having to try to explain makes something acrid and agonizing rise up like bile in the back of his throat. 

“The letters came,” he forces out. 

Jack’s mouth goes tight. “All of ‘em?”

Davey gives a weak nod. “I’ve been stealing them out of the mailbox. I didn’t want my parents to see…”

“Where are they?”

“In my nightstand,” Davey answers. 

With one last reassuring squeeze, Jack goes to look. He pulls open the drawer and unearths a stack of creamy envelopes, each one thicker and heavier than the last: Columbia, Dartmouth, Yale, NYU, UCLA, UC Berkeley... Just the sight of them sends another wave of anxiety rushing through him; Davey hugs himself against a sudden chill, his nails biting into his arms.

Jack flips one of the envelopes over, dragging a finger over the shiny, golden seal. 

“You haven’t opened them,” he says, more of a comment than a question.

“I couldn’t,” Davey confesses. “I tried but I couldn’t make myself… I just couldn’t.”

He doesn’t know how to explain, the feelings refusing to condense down into words. Because they’re just letters, except that they’re not just letters, not really. They’re only the start. 

The start of another four years of this: of working himself into the ground and being miserable, of studying and struggling and grinding and endlessly competing against this idealized, perfected, unattainable version of himself. A version of himself that his parents want him to be, a person that they insist he must become, never once considering if that’s who he wants to be. 

He can’t even imagine spending the next chapter of his life like this. He can’t do it. He can’t.

But even as Davey thinks it, that familiar sensation starts creeping in again⁠—bitter doubt, overwhelming worry, desperate, aching fear⁠—screaming at him from every corner of his mind. Of course he’s going to college. Of course he is, he has to, there’s nothing to be done, no choice but to make his peace and learn to live with...

Another wave of nausea hits so hard and so abruptly he goes dizzy with it, just barely able to keep from retching⁠—not that there’s anything left in his stomach to throw up. 

“Woah, hey,” Jack says softly. He wraps a hand around Davey’s forearm to steady him, guiding him over to sit down on the bed. “Breathe, Davey, breathe⁠. I gotcha.”

“Sorry,” Davey mutters.

“You don’t gotta be sorry,” Jack replies, his face full of understanding. “You just gotta tell me the best way to help you. Do you need me to open the letters for you?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Davey shakes his head, like that might shuffle his scattered thoughts into coherence. “I don’t want anyone to open them. I wish they didn’t fucking exist at all.”

Davey takes a deep breath, straining for calm. Jack watches him silently, rubbing his hand comfortingly along his arm.

“I should’ve listened to you,” Davey admits. “I should’ve put a stop to this months ago. But I didn’t know what to tell them and I didn’t want them to be disappointed in me and now it’s too late, all these fucking letters keep showing up because they made me apply to every goddamn Ivy League in the country, and I don’t know what to do. Jackie, I don’t know what to do.”

“Davey,” Jack says quietly. “What do you need from me?”

“Help me figure this out?” Davey pleads. “I know it’s a lot, but every day my parents ask if I’ve heard back from any schools and I’ve got to come up with a plan before they catch on and I don’t think I can do it by myself.”

He gestures at the pile of letters sitting in Jack’s lap, and as he does, he realizes that his hand is trembling. He lowers it back down before Jack can notice.

“Maybe you can help me sort through these?” Davey suggests. “I just need advice, an outside perspective, an opinion from someone I trust. Someone that will help me pick something I can live with, not just whatever’s most prestigious.”

“But you don’t want to go to any of these schools,” Jack says slowly. “You ain’t even interested in any of ‘em.”

Davey can’t meet his eyes. 

“At least one of them must be decent,” he says, in a tone that’s not at all convincing. “It’s just a matter of figuring out which one.”

“And what if none of them are?” Jack says. “What if none of ‘em are decent? What if none of ‘em are right for you?”

“One of them will be,” Davey insists.

“But what if they’re not?” Jack says, still pressing. “What if all of ‘em are horrible? What if we start looking at ‘em and every one is guaranteed to be four years of misery?”

“Then I guess I’m just going to be fucking miserable, aren’t I?” Davey bursts out. 

He immediately clamps his hand over his mouth, praying that no one else heard. But the house remains sleepy and silent. 

Jack stares back at him, a sea of feeling behind his eyes.

“I can’t think like that, Jackie,” Davey continues after a second, fighting to keep his voice down despite the edge of hysteria that’s creeping into his tone. “I have to hope that one of these schools will be a good enough fit or else I’m actually going to lose my mind. So I need you to help me figure this out. I need your advice because⁠, if nothing else, at least you’re actually on my side. I’m so tangled up at this point that I can’t even tell if⁠—” ⁠

If I’m on my own side anymore, Davey doesn’t say, cutting himself off before he can finish the thought. But Jack looks at him like he knows exactly what Davey was about to say, his expression turning sad and maybe a little angry.

“And you really think that’s what’s best?” Jack asks, voice rough with disbelief and displeasure.

“What else is there to do?” Davey replies, helpless.

Jack’s mouth flattens out into a harsh, thin line, jaw clenched. He stares down at the letter from earlier, then at the rest of the stack, his hands curling into fists against his thighs. He picks one up and at first Davey can’t tell if he’s going to finally open it, or if he’s just going to rip it in half.

Instead, he says, “We could run.”

“...What?” Davey whispers.

Jack turns to him, and the look in his eyes is like nothing Davey’s ever seem before: almost fever bright, threaded with urgency and realization, and speckled with warmth and hints of promise.

“Run away with me, Dave,” Jack says. “Let me take you away from all’a this. We’ll hit the road, drive ‘til the pavement ends, ‘til we’re far away from all these expectations and plans and supposed to’s. Because it’s crushing you. It’s making you fucking miserable, and if distance is what you need to find steady ground and make a choice for your own sake, that’s actually about you and what you want? Then I’m your ticket outta town.”

“Jackie...” Davey says, utterly floored. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, stuttering with something like anticipation and fear and terrible, terrible longing. “Jackie, that’s not… We can’t.”

“And why can’t we?”

“Because,” Davey insists, because one of them has to be reasonable. “Because, we can’t just pack up and leave. It’s the middle of the semester, we’ve got another three months of school left, we’re supposed to graduate, and fuck, can you even imagine the fallout? My parents would kill me, just hunt me down and murder me if I left.”

“I’m still not hearin’ any reasons not to,” Jack says, still looking at Davey with those warm, steady eyes.

“I just told you—“ Davey starts.

“No,” Jack calmly interrupts. “You gave me a bunch of excuses for not going, not reasons. There’s a difference. I’m waitin’ for something more along the lines of ‘my ridiculously long legs make road trips super uncomfortable’ or ‘our friendship won’t survive us traveling together for weeks in close quarters’ or ‘I wouldn’t trust your rusted old Chevy to take us to the state line, let alone any further,’ or how about ‘Jack, I don’t want to.’”

Davey’s mouth closes with a soft click, swallowing heavily around a sudden lump in his throat.

Jack keeps looking at him, and the intensity of his gaze is almost too much to handle, simmering with something quietly fierce. 

“I’m not gonna stand by and watch you kill yourself over a life that you don’t even want. Not anymore. Not when it makes you call me at one in the morning, sounding like the weight of the fucking world’s on your shoulders and you’re terrified to set it down. Not after seven months of watching you waste away right in front of me, moving around like a goddamn shadow, pale as a ghost and hollow inside. Not unless you can look me in the eye right now and tell me that college is what you want. That any of this is gonna make you happy.”

Davey can’t speak. Something’s gone taut in his chest, like a piano wire about to snap. Davey could prevent it. He doesn’t know if he wants to.

Jack leans closer and takes both of Davey’s hands in his own. His palms are warm, or maybe it’s just that Davey’s freezing, has been so painfully cold and lonely these past few months, withering away in the shadow of his parent’s expectations. But the tangle of their fingers threading together is like a balm on Davey’s soul—the spark that reignites the embers of a dying fire.

He’s so tired of being cold.

“I just wanna know that you’ll be happy,” Jack says after a moment—softly, like he’s afraid he might shatter Davey if he speaks any louder, sending the broken shards of him scattering into nothingness. Davey’s not sure he’s wrong. “And I know you, David, and this isn’t going to make you happy.”

“This is crazy,” Davey breathes out, and it’s not what he means to say but it’s what comes out, regardless. “It’s... Jack, this is insanity.”

“Who cares about what’s sane?” Jack says. “Fuck sanity.”

“Jackie.”

“Tell me you’re happy,” Jack says, and the gentleness of the command doesn’t make it any less compelling. “Tell me you’re happy, that you think you’ll be happy with all’a this, and I’ll drop it. I’ll drop it right this second, I swear.”

Davey’s eyes slip shut. He breathes in and breathes out, feeling his ribs pressing against that band in his chest, the last pieces of it holding fast.

“You know this isn’t what you want,” Jack continues. “You’ve known right from the start that this isn’t what you want, you just wouldn’t admit it. But you gotta finally put yourself first for once, Davey. You gotta figure out what’s best for you, and you can’t do that here, not with everything that’s weighing you down.”

In and out. In and out.

“Please, Dave,” Jack murmurs. “Please.”

And the wire snaps.

“Okay,” Davey says, fingers tightening around Jack’s, his lone anchor as the world tilts out from underneath him. “Okay.”

“You’ll—?”

“Let me pack a bag,” Davey agrees.

00000

Tags! @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside, @corbinthecowboy

[bestkindofbeehive]

Smile for Me Week, Day 1: Secret

happy smile for me week!!! for my first trick, have a fic I wrote after thinking about my dad too hard. it ends well and it was pretty cathartic for me, but it does get a bit emotionally intense re: feelings about having to stay closeted in front of your parents for years, so fair warning. but it does end well I promise!!! I’ll probably post this on ao3 soon too, so look out for that!

-----

Never in a million years would Parsley have ever expected that being stuck in the same slapdash “mental health” retreat as his dad would end in anything other than frustration. And, to be fair, that was how things went for a while. But then that weird florist handed him one of his dad’s terrible dishes, and before he knew it he was getting drunk off his ass and actually talking to his dad for the first time in... years, probably. Somehow it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. The Kahlúa and birthday cake flavored vodka probably helped.

And then he’d been woken up in the middle of the night and suddenly urged out of the giant front gates with very little reason why— something something carbon monoxide poisoning. Not that Parsley really needed convincing to get the hell out of there at that point. Even a constant flow of free alcohol probably wouldn’t have kept him there for much longer. Those last PSAs were getting pretty creepy and, well, incredibly specific and aggressive towards one particular person. He had hoped that chicken te- flower vendor made it out alright, but he saw them a few days later in town. So things couldn’t have ended too badly.

The most astonishing thing, though, was the fact that he and his dad actually kept talking once they got out of that place. And he somehow didn’t wind up wanting to tear his hair out by the end of every conversation, even. Of course his dad frustrated him plenty of times, but it never got bad bad like it used to. Things between them were... good. Not good good, but just. Good.

So good, in fact, that Parsley manages to somehow metaphorically vomit up the words necessary to tell his dad he wasn’t attracted to women. He wasn’t even drunk— tipsy, certainly, but he was painfully in control of all his faculties that night.

It went... well. He knows the night ended on good terms, and he knows his dad didn’t get angry. He’s pretty sure his dad told him he loved him at some point, which is a good sign. It only happened a few weeks ago. He isn’t really ready to think about it very hard in any capacity. He’s scared that he’ll go looking for some specific sign, or a phrase, or a look— something that definitively tells him that his dad doesn’t look at him and wish he had another son— and come up empty.

Parsley takes what he can get, until what he can get isn’t enough anymore.

The tension finally breaks one evening; almost six months to the day they both left the Habitat. They were watching the end of some melodrama that was airing right before the hilariously disorganized cooking show they both enjoyed. And the stupid thing is that Parsley can’t even remember what his dad said that set him off so bad— but, god, his dad would know just the right string of words to tick him off enough to say something. It was something about keeping secrets. Something about how he didn’t understand why some people keep harmless stuff so close to their chest for no reason. Which is rich coming from him, the man who has to bluster his way through every emotional conversation he’s ever had. Parsley would be seeing red if his eyes weren’t already that color.

“See, I mean, like with your whole, uh, situation— Not that I’m tryin’ to rag on you or anything, sprig, but I just don’t see why you didn’t just go on and tell me! I wouldn't've been mad at you or nothin’,” Jimothan says, gladly shoving his entire foot in his mouth for the sake of scolding Parsley, just like old times.

Parsley, to his credit, doesn’t immediately blow up. “You didn’t exactly make it the easiest thing to do,” he says, his voice clipped and his jaw tense. His dad makes a bewildered noise next to him; a noise that wouldn’t be out of place in a sitcom.

“Now what’s that supposed to mean? I always told you that you could talk to me about anything, didn’t I?” Jimothan asks. The look of genuine confusion on his face almost makes Parsley want to drop it and just keep watching tv, but the fuse has already been lit.

“Sure, if you forget about all the times you showed me that definitely wasn’t true,” Parsley scoffs, pretending to focus on the tv again. The melodrama is still going. The character on screen is crying big, unrealistic tears. Parsley can’t make out what they’re crying about over the blood starting to rush through his ears. Every neural pathway in his brain left over from his teens is yelling at him to just let dad think that he’s right so the lecture that hasn’t even started will stop.

“What’re you— Parsley, what the heck are you talkin’ about? I’ve never— When have I ever said somethin’ that would make you think I wouldn’t—”

Something in his dad’s tone immediately sets Parsley’s blood to a boil. He sounds like he doesn’t understand; like he doesn’t even know where this is even coming from. He has no idea. Fuck, would it hurt less if his dad tried to justify himself instead? If he sounded angry instead of confused? Because this means that he just doesn’t know. Decades of hiding and bullshit and being afraid and he just didn’t know.

“Are you KIDDING ME?” Parsley fires back, eyes wide open and blood red. Jimothan almost jumps, having not been witness to his son’s temper in a while. “When HAVEN’T you said something that would make me think you wouldn’t approve? I wouldn’t— I couldn’t go a day without you making some comment about how I needed to get a girlfriend, or- or- how you couldn’t wait to have grandkids, or some other stupid thing about me “finally” getting a wife someday—” Parsley rants, his voice stuttering with the anger flying around in his chest.

Jimothan at least has the decency to look a bit stunned. “But— Oh c’mon Parsley, that was just me tryin’ to give you a little push! I thought you were havin’ a tough time talking to girls, so I figured I would just give you some pointers—”

“No! That’s just it! You just had to build up and build up this— this idea of what I was supposed to do! Every time you just had to make a comment like that it was another bullet on the fist— LIST of all the things I wasn’t doing right,” Parsley flusters. At some point in his rant his hands find their way to his head, and he tries to run his fingers through his hair to calm himself down, but they keep catching on tangles. “A-And you wanna act like I shouldn’t have been scared to tell you, but you—!”

“Scared?” His dad’s expression breaks a little, which just makes this awful situation all the more difficult. Shit. Shit shit shit, this wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. It shouldn’t even be happening, but the fire in Parsley’s chest isn’t dying down and he can’t keep his traitor mouth shut.

“Sprig, you didn’t have any reason to be scared, it woulda been fi—” Jimothan tries to start.

“Ugh, you’re not LISTENING!” Parsley feels like he’s seconds away from tearing his hair out. God, he sounds like such a teenager. “It wasn’t that easy! Of course I was scared! How the hell could I have explained— I just—!!” 

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU I WASN’T THE SON YOU WANTED?!” Parsley finally screams.

The room gets quiet frighteningly fast. His dad just stares at him, his face slack with a cocktail of confusion, surprise, and what Parsley wants to hope is sadness.

Suddenly, all the anger and half-hearted bravado flies out of Parsley’s chest. His arms fall to his sides, and he’s left panting with the exertion of having just spilled out a flood of emotions that have been building since he was in elementary school. He doesn’t feel relieved. He just feels tired.

And then he starts crying. Which is just... great. As if this night needed some extra turmoil to really polish things off. Like most times, he can’t even stop himself; he was never good about not wearing his heart on his sleeve. Not his anger, not his disappointment, and definitely not his heartache. It’s not even a “dignified cry”, as his dad would put it— he’s hiding his face in his hands, and he can’t stop his shoulders from shaking every time he tries to suck in a stuttery breath.

He probably looks pretty pathetic right now, Parsley thinks. And in a few moments he’ll hear his dad get up and walk out of his apartment while mumbling something about seeing him later. And then in about a week’s time, Parsley will answer the phone, hear his dad’s voice, and both of them will never speak of this night ever again.

But something different happens.

Instead, he feels his dad’s sturdy hands take him by the shoulders and pull him into a firm hug. It’s an awkward thing; Parsley’s hands were still covering his face, so now they’re kind of pinned to his chest, and his dad is squeezing him just slightly too hard. They’re both out of practice, really.

Before Parsley can manage a “whuh” in response, he hears more than sees his dad take in a big, faltering breath while his shoulders start to shake. Parsley has only seen his dad cry a handful of times in his life. Most of them happened around the time the divorce was finalized. But after that... Nothing.

Jimothan makes a wounded noise of a sob. “Y-You’re— God, sprig, I would never...” he starts, but can’t find the words to finish. Parsley manages to find it in himself to forgive his dad for that pretty easily. He’s never been the most eloquent when it comes to emotional outbursts. Parsley manages to wriggle his arms free, and wraps them around his dad. The older man lets out a little sniffle in response, and then starts to run his hand down his son’s messy head of hair. It only catches a few times.

“You’re all I got, Parsley,” his dad mumbles through the thickness in his voice. “You’re all I got.”

Parsley lets himself cry just a little bit more, his chest finally starting to feel lighter than it has in years. The two of them exist like that for a while— clumsily hugging and crying and mumbling little fragments of things they’ve both been meaning to say. At some point they’ll have to break apart, and at some point the night will have to end. They’ll part ways with slightly stilted goodbyes, and very likely won’t speak of this night for at least a few months. But for now, they both let themselves have this moment. 

And it’s not much, but it’s enough.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Doubt Comes In

Requested by anon: Hey!! Can you maybe right a fic where the reader is having a panic attack and Loki finds them and helps them or maybe where they’re having a panic attack and they go as Loki for help. Whichever you’re drawn to I’d love either. Thanks sm, sorry to bother. You’re amazing btw Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When depression and anxiety get the better of you, Loki is there to help you through it. Warnings: Talk of self-harm, depression, and panic attacks, as well as a brief mention of suicide. If any of these things upset you, please do not read. A/N: This is the first request I’ve ever gotten, so thank you to the lovely anon that sent this in. Sorry that I added some things to your request, but I’d already started writing this and felt that they worked well together. Hopefully I still did your request justice :)

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

There were days where you just had to shut yourself away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the world. The first time you did this, it alarmed the rest of the team who were used to you being one of the most social of the group. You seemed to have infinite patience for the people who stopped you on the street, both fans and media alike. During parties, you could be found with a large group of people, nodding along and adding your own thoughts where they seemed appropriate. Of course, if anyone bothered to look close enough, they would have seen that your smiles were just a little too bright, and your responses just a little too polite. No one ever did, though, so you suffered in silence.

On days like today when depressive thoughts claimed your mind, the whole act was too hard to put on. The team had come to know times like this as your sick day, though they were all suspicious of the flimsy excuses you made when you told them that’s all it was. Just a stomach bug, you’d say one time. Another, a minor headache supposedly plagued you. Nothing to worry over, you assured them. Out of respect to you and the space you obviously needed, they hardly ever questioned you any further.

You tried to calm the shakiness of your breaths as you made your way to the kitchen. Tony had taken the rest of the team out for mini-golfing, something you usually would have been ecstatic to take part in. Even if you had to force a smile for strangers, you were genuinely happy to do things with your friends. It was just the overwhelming feeling of worthlessness that kept you from joining them today. You did your best to ignore your feelings, which always left you on a hollow sort of auto-pilot. Staring blankly into the fridge you opened upon arriving in the kitchen, you tried to force yourself to find something you wanted to eat. You knew you needed some kind of sustenance, but somehow your brain always convinced itself you didn’t deserve to eat when in a mood like this. You grabbed a berry smoothie that you knew you probably wouldn’t finish and headed to a common room couch.

The view was much better here than from your room and you were glad that everyone else was out, allowing you to wallow anywhere in the Tower, not just your bedroom. You hated to be inside at all, let alone cooped up in your room, on a day as nice as this. Going out, though, meant you ran the risk of running into someone. So, you leaned back and felt the warm sun filtering in from the large windows wash over your skin, and opened the cap of your drink. You managed to take a few sips before setting it down on the table in front of you. That relentlessly chipper voice in your head told you that if you weren’t going to eat, you should at least finish the smoothie, but it was met with an even louder, more persistent voice telling you that you shouldn’t. You peered at the pinkish liquid and managed to take one more gulp before setting it back down. It was better than nothing, you figured.

Psychoanalyzing yourself never really ended well for you. You had a nice home, friends that were practically family, and pretty much anything you could ever want. So why the fuck were you so messed up? Deep down, you knew it was in a large part, if not wholly, due to your home life from before becoming an Avenger. Your parents would tell you to talk to them, to express your emotions, but the second you did, they told you it was wrong to feel that way. To just stop feeling like that without any clue as to how to do that. It left you drowning in emotions too difficult to repress, in a house filled with screaming matches between people who supposedly loved each other. Eventually those screams gave way to icy glares and clipped conversations. You quickly learned your place in a house like that: Listen to everyone else’s problems and deal with your own, on your own.

You were trembling now, just like days long past in your childhood home. You still remembered times you just collapsed into a ball on the floor behind closed doors, silent sobs racking your body. You weren’t so quiet now that you didn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing. Hands trembling, you reached into your back pocket as you remembered the other way you used to deal with your emotions. You held the Swiss Army knife in your hands and stared at your red eyes reflected in the unforgiving metal. You weighed the pros and cons of what you were about to do, but right now you were only interested in the relief it could offer you. You’d deal with the guilt after.

Before you could bring the blade down to meet your tender flesh, a hesitant voice called your name. Your head whipped around to meet eyes just as raw and red as your own. It made the green of his irises pop.

“Loki,” you gasped, hastily standing up. His eyes flitted down to the knife still in your hand, and you quickly hid it behind your back. “I can leave if you want.”

“No. You stay, I will go. Unless, that is, you wouldn’t mind if I...if I joined you?”

You still didn’t particularly feel like talking to anyone, but staying alone now meant that you would hurt yourself. The part of you that desperately did not want to go back down that road beckoned Loki to sit next to you on the plush cushions. He didn’t press for any more information, and you both sat in the silence, sniffling for the next half hour. After a few deep breaths, you gently placed one of your hands on his.

“Are you alright?” your raw voice said, cutting through the stillness of the room.

Loki laughed, though not unkindly. Something flashed across his features, but you hadn’t spent enough time with him to know the nuances of his expressions. True, you’d been getting closer with him these past few months, and he ranted to you about some of his troubles such as disagreements with his brother, but you’d never seen him in a state quite like this.

“And why, my sweet mortal,” he said, picking up your hand and holding it in both of his own, “should you have to worry about that when you are so obviously distressed yourself?”

There was nothing you could do to stop the tears that burst forth from you. Slowly, Loki wrapped you in a hug and stroked your hair.

“It’s alright,” he cooed. “I am right here. You can trust me.”

“I’m just-just so worthless!” you shouted between hysterical sobs. “I can’t even deal with my feelings properly. Everyone would be better off if I was dead.”

“Do not say such things!” Loki said with a sudden fury, grabbing your shoulders and pulling your body away from his so he could bring his face level with yours. Not that you could see him through your tears and hands, which were rubbing your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the deluge. “If you were to leave, you would be missed by anyone who has ever known you. Your family. Your friends. Me.”

Apologies fell from your lips, almost in a chant. He shushed you, returning to gently hugging you after his own emotional outburst. You stayed like that for the better part of an hour until your sobs subsided and turned to shaky breaths.

“Darling, look at me,” Loki said when he felt you’d calmed down enough. “You matter. You need to hear that. You deserve to hear it. You matter.”

You barely manage to stop another round of tears from taking over your body. “Thank you,” you croaked out. “I don’t think anyone’s ever let me know that before.”

Actually, you knew they hadn’t. For most of your life, people never even bother to check if you were ok. You’d been told that crying was wrong, and you’d never been allowed to weep into someone’s arms as Loki had just allowed you to.

“It is no problem, my dear. In fact,” Loki started, but trailed off, tears forming in his own eyes.

“Talk to me,” you said with rapt attention, ready to be his shoulder to cry on.

“I understand what you are feeling all too well. That feeling of worthlessness... It is all-consuming. And it is ok that you feel this way, but you must know that you can work past it.

“I don’t know how,” you whispered.

“Remember all the good you put into the world. And do not say that you you haven’t contributed anything; I know you have. Think of times when you have helped me. When you have saved the city. Even when you have held the door open for someone. It all counts, and it all matters.”

You contemplated his words and slowly nodded. After a whispered ok passed your lips, Loki lifted you and placed you on his lap. He rested his head on your shoulder and, in turn, you placed your head on his own.

“And,” he added, his breath tickling your ear, “if you cannot think of anything, come find me. But do not ever even think of harming yourself again.”

You nodded and snuggled in even closer to him, enjoying the peace for as long as you could. Soon, the rest of the Avengers returned to the Tower. You made some small talk with them before excusing yourself to your room. Loki was waiting for you in the hallway with a tray of food that he sheepishly passed to you when you reached him.

“How did you know?” you questioned the god, wide-eyed. Never before had someone noticed your poor eating habits when depression set in.

“I am the same way myself,” he responded with a distant look of sadness and resignation on his features.

You thanked him and stood there awkwardly for a few minutes, neither of you really knowing what to say. Finally, he took your hand and placed a gentlemanly kiss to your knuckles, and with a promise to check on you tomorrow, Loki took off down the hall.

You managed to finish the sandwich he brought you before collapsing on your mattress and falling into a restless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been months since you’d first opened up to Loki. After a little while, he finally confided in you, too. Most days, things were better for the both of you now that there was someone to talk to about it all. Despite your best efforts, you fell for him. Hard. You just couldn’t help it, not when he felt so safe. Not when he felt like home. That’s why you hastily agreed to a date when he asked you out after teary, late-night confessions of love.

Tonight was the night of your first date and you knew he had something amazing planned. You should have been over the moon, but some nasty voice in your head was keeping you from that feeling of elation. It kept telling you that you were going to screw things up and drive Loki away. You didn’t doubt that he cared about you, but you certainly didn’t understand why he did either. He was a god, for crying out loud, and you were just, well, you. Trying to still your shaking hands as you put on your shoes, you reminded yourself of all the tender words Loki whispered to you. Unfortunately, your mind was quick to warp those thoughts, telling you that they were probably lies. That’s what he was the god of, after all.

Suddenly, you realized what was happening to you. You’d experienced it once before; you recognized it in the uncontrollable shaking of your hands and shortness of breath. You attempted to calm yourself down before it got too bad but to no avail. Before you knew it, you were hyperventilating, tears streaming down your face. You wanted to call out for help, but the words wouldn’t come. Then came the crashing sensation of impending doom. Your mind was a jumbled mess, repeating over and over again desperate pleas for it to stop.

A knock sounded at your door, but you barely heard it over your own thoughts. So deep into this pit of despair, you couldn’t pull yourself out to answer whoever was there. Through bleary eyes, you saw a flash of green in your room, and soon you were caught in a loving embrace.

“Look at me, darling,” Loki said. “I am here now. Just breathe. It will all be ok.”

He continued to whisper calming things in your ear as you gasped for air, the panic attack subsiding. Slowly, the rest of the world came back into focus and you grounded yourself, staring straight ahead and concentrating on Loki’s soothing hands rubbing circles on your back. As you calmed down, you noticed he was softly singing in a language you didn’t recognize. Still, though, he sounded beautiful.

“It’s something my mother used to sing to me when I was a child,” he explained after finishing the song, the comforting melody still ringing in your ears.

“Will you sing it again, please?”

He obliged and this time you hummed along, a small smile playing at your lips. You were still shaking when he scooped you up and placed you on the bed. He pulled your back against his chest as he continued the Asgardian song.

“Our date,” you gasped, suddenly remembering your plans for the night. “I’m so sorry.”

“Do not apologize, my sweet. After all, I see no reason why we cannot still have our date.”

With a snap of his fingers, you were both in your pajamas, and pizza boxes were resting on your nightstand. You smiled at Loki as he stared in confusion at the TV remote. You giggled and helped him flip through the channels, before settling on The Wizard of Oz. You were glad to know that no matter how many times your mind was filled with doubt, Loki would help you through it. The safety you provided for each other was so precious to you that you wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“Hey Loki?” you said as the movie was finishing. “What did that song from earlier mean?”

And so he began to sing it again, this time in English so you could understand the words.

Don’t worry, sweet darling, do not cry Let me wipe those tears from your eyes Don’t fear, sweet darling, do not fight Let me hold you; everything’ll be all right

You gazed at him with admiration in your eyes. He looked away as a slight blush colored his pale cheeks, but you cupped his face and brought your lips to meet his in a sweet kiss.

“Rest now, my love,” he said after you had to break away for air.

The complete fatigue you felt made you follow his gentle command as he sang you off to sleep.

[mtraki]

Y'all, it's another rant (uh, apparently people like those or something as the last one got more notes immediately than most of any kind of thing I make here). This one is a little spicier, but it's still full of love for Hitman, the team who made it, and the characters most especially. And y'all. Much love to y'all. Read More if you want it. All spoilers unmarked as before.

Let me be frank: Diana was robbed.

For awhile now, and especially since reading through some fanfic, other content creator analysis, and fan theories, something about Diana has rubbed me the wrong way. Now, don't get me wrong (please put down the garrottes and explosive rubber duckies, I CAN EXPLAIN!) I love Diana Burnwood as a character and as an expositor. I love all three of her VAs, though I have to say I'm a bit partial to Ms Jane Perry's rendition. I love her understanding of her strengths and her ruthless inclination to use them to suit her purpose. I love the way she speaks to 47 with familiarity and warmth and injects wry humor or irritation into her comments like she's trying to poke at him and get a kind of reaction out of him. I like that she isn't afraid to get her hands dirty if that's what's necessary. I think she's a beautiful set of polygons. But she was robbed of a character development arc. "Wait wait!" You cry, brandishing fire extinguishers to bash against my face, "She discovered the truth about her parents' murder! She betrayed the ICA and her active and very influential client (Providence) to help 47 and Lucas on their personal vengeance quest!"

Sure. But did these change her perspective of the world or herself? Did this alter the pattern that's repeated in every single narrative she's taken a role in?

"She learned she was a hypocrite! She let 47 go at the end!"

She 'lets 47 go' in several of the narratives she's in, starting with the comics.

She gives him the ICA contact information at the end of the comic series. She's fairly certain they'll hear from him, but does not prevent him from leaving. 47 kills Ort-Meyer at the end of the first game and disappears to Sicily for several years. Diana does not try to stop him. She lets him go. Diana 'betrays 47' at the end of Blood Money, but he survives Trojan Hitman(TM) The First and disappears for about a year. Diana does not try to stop him. She lets him go. Diana 'betrays 47' after Mendoza, but he survives Trojan Hitman(TM) The Second and disappears for about a year (per the ending cutscene 'New Deal'). Diana does not try to stop him. She lets him go.

The thing is... Diana is always right. This is important to her role as our (the Player's) expositor, and also as 47's 'conscience' (once that part of their working relationship becomes clear in the narrative). But once the narrative starts removing her from those roles in the WOA story, I really wish they had done more to navigate how she's also just a fallible human being with dubious morals that are also built on personal vengeance and a long, long history of literally manipulating everyone around her to her benefit (No really. She starts at fourteen with this mercenary thinking right after her parents die. Girl needed a therapist for REAL). It's okay that 47 thinks she's got everything handled and will "make everything right". He's supposed to. He doesn't know a different Diana. Every fake betrayal and real betrayal and double-agent play has worked out with apparently no negative consequences. The only time this wasn't 100% true was when she betrayed Benjamin Travis in Absolution and was put on a contract herself and subsequently shot by 47. But then we learn that even THAT was figured into her plan-- that 47 had been drinking enough of the 'Burnwood or Bust' Kool-Aid (TM) to not kill her outright even though he's never hesitated before. Mind you, this whole episode didn't happen to make Diana doubt herself... No, it was there to shake up 47. In fairness, she makes a couple 'foibles' in WOA. Andrews is under her and Olivia's watch when he escapes-- something Lucas blames her for. She gets 'captured' in turn by Andrews and joins Providence as a Herald (on probation)... But overall, her master plan goes down impressively. She becomes the next Constant even after orchestrating the deaths of both her rival and her predecessor (and having the doubts of most the rest of the Heralds) after successfully 'betraying' 47 again.

At least in my understanding of the dialogue and themes of the end of WOA, 47 never doubted Diana. There was that period in his subconscious where he doubted himself, but none of that seemed directed at her. He never doubted she was in control of the situation, never doubted she had the best intentions, and never doubted that this was another play. So it's no damn surprise he turns up a year later even though she risked his life and bodily autonomy without discussing it with him first, again. Playing for Team Burnwood comes with winning every time!

And that upsets me. Diana was robbed, and 47 was cheated of any real 'freedom of choice'. I don't mean things should have ended in disaster. Of course I want happy endings.

But I also want Diana to have grown enough to decide in the end that this Trojan Hitman(TM) plan risks someone not her the most, and so maybe that means planning with that person instead of deciding her way is best without the consent of others. If the game wants me to believe she recognizes that she's a hypocrite, then she shouldn't end her role in the game by being a damn hypocrite!

Let there be a reveal that 47 was in on the 'betrayal' plan! Let his insecurity in the subconscious be more about who he is going to be in the future now that Diana has let him off her leash-- CAN he be somebody on his own? Making his own decisions?? He's literally never done it! It's scary-- and he has the capacity for fear as well as guilt, now! Let Andrews try to make this about Diana and her master plan and such and have 47 say he doesn't know what Andrews is talking about. Because whatever Diana does is up to Diana now, and doesn't have anything to do with 47... and what 47 does is up to 47 now, and Diana doesn't have anything to do with that.

This way, she has really let him go after having to admit to herself that she needed his help, and that she needed to ask for it instead of trick him, and really recognizes that she was a hypocrite trying to control another human being to do "what's best" for him. This way his return a year later actually looks like the start of something new instead of another run on the same hamster wheel.

Any other takes? I'm here for the discourse-- especially if you have canon clips or dialogue I missed!

[leossmoonn]

mind games [part nine]

masterlist | part eight | part ten

zuko x fem!reader fluff, angst smau (it has the social media elements, but not as much as the last series)

avatar: the last airbender

summary - being zuko’s best friend is the easiest thing in the world. until he gets a girlfriend and you realize you’re in love with him

warnings / includes  (this counts for any/all chapters) - fighting, suggestive, language, crying, alcohol, cheating, talk about injuries, making out, alluding to sex, talks about sex. you are sokka and katara’s older sister. you, mai, and zuko are seniors in college, sokka and suki are juniors, katara, aang, and toph are sophomores.

————

“hi, what can i get for you today?” you smiled. 

“i’d like a sticky bun and green tea, please,” your customer, who was a middle-aged woman, ordered.

you wrote down on your notepad, reaching down to grab her menu. “alright, coming right up.”

you walked back to behind the counter, getting out a sticky bun from the display case and warming up some water. as you waited, the doors to the JD opened. a familiar smell wafted through the restaurant and you couldn’t help but turn you head. a smile coming onto your face as you saw jet standing in the entrance, carrying a bouquet of flowers. 

“jet! what’re you doing here?” you asked, pouring hot water into a cup and placing tea leaves. 

“a boyfriend can’t come and surprise his girlfriend with flowers at her job?” jet grinned, holding the flowers out to you. 

“i gotta get this order out, then i’ll be with you, okay?” you said. you picked up the cup and plate, but katara snatched them out of your hand. 

“i got this, y/n. you go say hi to your boyfriend,” she grinned, taking over the food. 

you chuckled and went over to jet. “let’s go and sit down.”

he followed you to a corner booth, sitting very close to you once you got settled. 

“so, what brings you here today?” you asked. 

“today is our 3 month anniversary, so i just wanted to surprise you,” jet explained.

your eyes widened, “oh, god… is today our 3 months?”

jet furrowed his brows. “yeah… i-”

you started to laugh, cutting him off. he frowned, more confusion written on his face. 

“what-why are you laughing?” he asked. you smirked, putting your hand on his. 

“because your face was priceless!” you giggled. “oh, so you didn’t forget?” he asked. 

you shook your head and leaned into him. “of course not. i would never forget, baby.”

“oh, good. i mean, it would be fine if you did, i know you’re busy,” jet shrugged. 

“i’m never too busy for you,” you grinned, closing the gap between you two.

you kissed him with desire and passion, your hand dropping down from his hand to his thigh. he smiled into the kiss, snaking his hand on your hip, gripping you through your apron and jeans. 

“mmm, we have to stop,” you breathed out as you pulled away. 

“we’ll do more tonight,” jet grinned. “ooh, what’s the plan?” you asked. 

“i am taking you out,” he said. “wow, what a man,” you poked his arm teasingly. 

“you know me. i like to treat you,” he winked. 

“mhm, and you do it well,” you giggled, leaning in to give him another kiss. 

“y/n, you have to get back to work,” zuko’s voice sounded in front of you.

you pulled away immediately, your face going red. 

“sorry,” you chuckled. “when shall i get ready?” you turned back to jet. 

“whenever your shift is done. i’ll be picking you up at 6,” he answered. 

“sounds good. thank you so much for the flowers and the visit. i can’t wait to see you tonight,” you smiled, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“you, too,” he smiled, getting up out of the seat. “nice seeing you, zuko,” jet said as he walked past. 

“yeah, you, too,” zuko nodded, still looking at you.

you stood up, adjusting your clothes and grabbing the bouquet. 

“what’s got your undies in a twist?” you asked zuko. “nothing,” he shrugged. 

“oh, c’mon, we just made up a week ago. don’t shut me out now,” you pouted. 

zuko couldn’t help but smile at your puppy dog face. “it’s just that mai has never visited me at work or anything.”

you frowned. “oh… well, do you want a flower?” you asked and plucked one out from your bouquet. 

“ah, no thanks. these are yours.” zuko said. “go ahead and take it. you deserve something nice, even if it’s not from your girlfriend,” you smiled. 

you held out the flower and zuko took it slowly. 

“thanks, y/n. mai could learn a thing or two from you,” zuko joked. 

“well, she doesn’t really seem like the affectionate type,” you snorted. 

“yeah,” zuko sighed. “well, don’t fear. just keep giving her love and eventually, hopefully, she’ll give you it back,” you smiled.

“hopefully,” zuko gave you a small smile. 

————

“where you two going?” toph asked. 

“i have no idea. somewhere nice, i assume,” you shrugged, putting in hoop earrings. 

“are you two gonna have sex?” suki asked. you scoffed, “i’m not answering that.”

“so, yes?” she giggled. “no-maybe? i don’t know,” you shrugged. 

“have you two slept with each other yet?” katara asked. 

“no,” you shook your head. “not even oral? damn, you two are missing out,” toph laughed. 

your eyes widened. “we have done oral! just not like, intercourse. ugh, this is such a weird conversation.”

“it’s not! we’re your girlfriends, you’re supposed to tell us everything,” katara said. 

“not everything,” you muttered. you stepped away fro the mirror, checking yourself out before you left. 

“he’s definitely gonna wanna smash you in that,” suki smirked. 

“i hate you all,” you grumbled. 

“we love you, too,” toph grinned. 

you couldn’t help but smile. you heard a knock at the door and you went to walk out of your room. 

“have fun!” katara called out. “will do. thanks, guys,” you smiled back at them before walking down the stairs. 

you opened the door, grinning brightly as you saw jet at the door with a polar dog plushie and a red, velvet box. he was wearing a purple dress shirt with black slacks, a dark purple bow tie around his neck. he looked very different than usual. Still handsome, just more classy. 

“hello, sexy,” you smirked. “i should be saying that to you. you look gorgeous,” he eyed your body that was in a tight-fitting, blue dress and black heels. 

“thank you. i try,” you shrugged shamelessly. “and you never fail to impress. are you ready to go?” he asked. 

“yep,” you nodded, stepping out of the house and locking the door behind you.

you walked to his car, jet opening the door for you. you stepped in, thanking him as he shut the door. he then went over to his side and once he got settled in, he went to give you your gifts.

“thank you for the plushie,” you smiled as you hugged it. 

“you’re welcome. it’s not just a regular stuffed animal, though. you can heat it up or freeze it to help with muscle aches or your period cramps,” jet explained. 

your eyes widened, “woah, wait. seriously? oh, my god. this is so cool! i love you so much.”

jet’s eyes flew wide open. “w-what did you say?” 

you furrowed your brows, “i said it’s really cool and… oh. i-i said i love you.”

jet gulped visibly. “d-do you mean it?” you smiled at him, intertwining your fingers with his. 

“of course i do,” you cooed. “i’ve just never said it until now. you don’t have to say back if you’re not ready, though. it just kinda came to me naturally, i guess.”

jet shook his head furiously. “no, no. i-i am ready. i was actually planning on saying it after the home-cooked meal i made.”

“you cooked for me?” you awed. “well, yeah, i know how much you love my meals,” he smiled.

“hm, i do. you know me so well,” you poked. 

jet chuckled, “of course i do. and i love you. so, so much.”

“hm, i’m glad,” you giggled. “here’s my gift to you.” you pulled out a few boxes from your purse. 

“oh, you shouldn’t have,” jet said. “oh, please. you would have definitely cried if i didn't give you a gift,” you scoffed, handing the boxes to him. 

jet chuckled as he opened the bigger one. he held up a jersey that you had gotten custom-made for him. 

“i-is this…. my number?” he asked, looking at the back and seeing his basketball number and last name. 

“yep,” you smiled. “i know a few of your friends have their jersey’s still and you don’t have yours anymore, so i decided to make one for you. i know how much you loved playing basketball in high school and i know how much you loved the jersey.”

“i do. thank you so much. this is definitely going up on my wall,” he smiled big, leaning into kiss you on the cheek. 

“you’re welcome. open the other one. this one is more of like an our-gift thing,” you explained. “be careful, it’s fragile, too.”

he nodded, opening the package gently. he smiled as he saw a collage of photos from your first date to your last date a few weeks ago. 

“this is really cute,” he gushed, looking at the 20 photos of you. 

“i think so, too. i made myself one also. it’s hanging up in my room,” you chuckled.

“i’ll make sure to hang these up on my wall high and proud,” he said. 

“good. so, i saw you have a box for me, too?” you asked. 

“yes, yes,” he smiled. he handed you it. 

you opened it excitedly, seeing that he had bought you charm bracelet and matching anklet. 

“these are so cute, thank you,” you smiled. “help me put these on?”

jet nodded and took out the bracelet, clipping it to your wrist. he then took the anklet, reaching down. his fingers skimmed the bare skin on your legs, making your whole body light on fire. you eyed him carefully as he clipped the piece of jewellery around your ankle. after he clipped the anklet, he stayed in this position, his eyes snaking up to you. 

butterflies overwhelmed your stomach as he licked his lips seductively. the action caused you to have a full-body shiver.

“jet, we should go to your apartment,” you suggested. 

“we should. are you hungry?” he asked, sitting back again. 

“very,” you said. “me, too,” his eyes went dark. 

you smiled bashfully and turned your head away, looking to your feet. jet drove you to his place, his hand resting on your thigh the whole ride, slowly going up with each passing second. 

you wiggled in your seat. feeling the warmth grow under your dress. you felt like you knew what was going to happen to night. your heart started to race with just thinking about it. it wasn’t like it was your first time, but it would be your first time with jet. despite all the nerves you were feeling, you were excited to see where this night would take you. you trusted jet immensely and was ready to consent to whatever was going to happen. 

the sexual tension in the car grew so thick, by the time you got your foot in his house, jet smashed his lips onto yours. you moaned quietly in surprise, your arms wrapping around his neck. you entangled your fingers into his hair, kissing him roughly. 

jet kicked the door closed and locked in quickly, then walking you backwards inside. 

“do you want to eat real food or go upstairs?” jet pulled away. 

you looked into his eyes, your pupils wide and full of lust. “upstairs.”

jet smirked and put his hands under your thighs, lifting you up quickly. you yelped and giggled, pressing your lips to his in a slow, but eager kiss. he walked you two upstairs, going into his room. he threw you on the bed smoothly, looking down at you with hungry eyes and wet lips. he started to unbutton his shirt and you took your heels off. 

you laid on your back, ready for jet to climb on the bed. he took his shirt off, your eyes roaming around his chiseled chest. he climbed on the bed, approaching you like a predator. you couldn’t help but smile as he went in between your legs, his left hand setting next to your head to support himself and his right hand setting on your waist. 

he lowered himself down and kissed you sweetly, his lips peppering kisses down from your lips to your neck. 

“jet,” you hummed, your hands pulling at his hair on the nape of his neck. 

he sucked on your sweet spot, smelling your perfume. the hand that was on your waist trailed down to your thigh, his fingers slipping up your dress. 

“is this okay?” he muttered into your neck. 

“mmhm, keep going,” you moaned, moving your hips so he would be able to touch you quicker. 

“eager,” he smirked, trailing down to your collar bone. 

you hummed in reply, your hands leaving his neck and going down to the back of your dress, unzipping it. jet went to help you, his eyes admiring your body as you slipped off your dress. you smiled and unclipped your bra, dropping it to the ground. 

“before we uh, continue. i wasn't sure if you picked up on this, but i was hoping, well, wondering if you wanted to take the next step. not just emotionally, but physically, too,” he suggested, looking deep into your eyes. 

you smiled at him, your fingernails running up and down against his back. 

“i know, i picked up on some of the clues. and i was thinking on the drive a lot and i want to advance this, too. so i’m ready if you are,” you answered. 

jet smiled widely. “i love you.”

you smirked, “why don’t you show me instead of telling?”

jet’s smile turned into a teasing smirk. “say no more.”

————

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