#that the body remembers and it will demands its toll one day no matter how much you try to control and master it mentally

[bmodiwrites]

I'll Dial Drunk

Hi friends! I'm back with something that's been brewing since Noah Kahan released the extended version of his newest album. Dial Drunk is the motivation for this one - I hope you like what my mind cooked up! There will be a second part, so be on the lookout for that. You can read I'll Dial Drunk below or over on AO3. Please like, reblog, and let me know what you think!

The mahogany under Steve’s arm is slippery like grease, covered in both sweat from the bar’s patrons and slick from the coating used to keep its shine. He tries not to look down at the reflective surface – his mirror image is just as bad as the one Steve projects out into the world and he’s already depressed. Seeing examples of his downfall never helps.  

For the fourth night in a row, Steve sits at the far corner of The Hideout, sipping a drink. There aren’t many lights that surround him so Steve is usually unbothered and undisturbed while he drowns his sorrows in whiskey and rum. After so many years of isolation, that’s how Steve likes it. He doesn’t know how to converse with strangers anymore – his allotted charm hit it’s peak so long ago that Steve can’t even remember what normal interaction is actually like.

Tonight is somehow different. There’s a charge in the air that Steve can’t seem to push past or ignore. He takes a deep breath, testing out the oxygen level in the room. Though it supplies him with what his body needs, Steve can smell the lingering anticipation.

Or maybe, he’s just really fucking drunk.

The whiskey in his hands is warm by now, the ice he ordered in it all but melted and watering down the drink. Steve throws it back anyway, well aware of the waste it would be if he doesn’t. His money isn’t something he can just throw away now. With so much agony following him around, disappearing into his mind isn’t beneficial. These days, it’s easier to live in the back of his head than exist in the real world – working a job included. It’s lonelier there, sad in so many ways that a lack of steady income doesn’t even break into the top five.

At least in his head, Steve is surrounded by the family he once had. Dustin and the kids aren’t gone yet, the sleepy little town they all grew up in hasn’t chased them away. They’re available for him outside of the holidays that blow by in a haze of too little time and so much to do every time his surrogate kids come back to see their families. His mind perfectly preserved the happy moments where Steve is at his best and not lonelier than any man should be.

What’s lacking in his real life, Steve clings to in his thoughts.

Unsurprisingly, Steve also keeps a perfectly rendered picture of the one that got away tucked back there, mingling with all of his other good memories. In his head, Eddie Munson is bright eyed and 21 years old. There are scars that mark him but beauty radiates from him all the same. In the handful of years since Eddie turned him away, Steve’s mental picture and it’s clarity hasn’t changed a single bit. He can’t forget dimpled smiles and chocolate button eyes that were so easy to love – no matter what drawing up that vision costs him.

And the toll of clinging onto such memories is so very high. Steve struggles to make it from day to day after nights where Eddie and the kids live in the forefront of his mind. When they’re tucked away and out of sight, Steve can almost forget the pain that radiates from his chest and magnifies as it goes down. He can do his job and wake up in the morning without too much heartache. For some of the long days, Steve manages with barely a passing thought for those who left him behind.

Days like today are impossible, however. Hell, the last few days haven’t been all that good. After hearing about Eddie on the radio, Steve is stuck in the moments where that brilliant man was his - even if they are few and far between. The alcohol numbs the need to desperately seek Eddie out, to run across Hawkins and demand to be taken back. Yet, it enhances the want for him, for the life they should’ve had even more. The impossible conundrum is neither solved nor soothed by whiskey on the rocks, though Steve keeps drinking all the same.

How can he not when thirty came and went last fall and Steve’s not any closer to being where he wants in life or with the people he needs so very desperately? As the world turned on around him, Steve dug his heels in and tried to stop it from spinning him off his axis. This place, this town - it’s all he’s ever known. After all the trauma, Steve is certain he made the right decision to stay right where he is, consequences be damned.

A loud bang a few feet down the bar draws Steve away from his melancholy, all sad thoughts halting. A new group is starting to get passed the point of socially drunk – the ruckus they’re going to cause is a little more than Steve can take at the moment. Instead of asking for one more like most nights, Steve signals to the bar tender, requesting the check.

“All done for the night, Harrington?” Gareth asks, a worried look on his face. Steve watches him glance between the rowdy group and himself. There’s a tension there that Steve can’t quite place. Despite being one of the bars best customers, Gareth seems eager to have Steve gone.

Instead of wondering why, Steve’s drunk brain grasps onto the question the bartender asked. “Sure am. Gotta save a little of that liquor for the next time I’m here.” Steve tries to smile but it falls flat - there’s nothing nice about being a drunk and knowing it. The hilarity of the situation is long gone now that Steve is stuck in this rut and can’t seem to get out.

After making quick work of his change, Gareth nods at Steve and turns back to help the other group demanding his attention. Steve shakes his head to clear it, then starts his trek over to the main entrance. He’s wobbling and a bit tipsy on his feet but they eventually start to work and clumsily carry him across the room. Of course, they can’t whisk him away fast enough to avoid hearing something that is guaranteed to set him off.

“Did you hear the freak is back in town?”

“Yeah, man. I saw him at the coffee shop with his uncle. Still as freaky as ever.”

“I don’t know why that Munson kid ever comes back. He’s never been welcome here.”

With each new scathing remark, Steve forgets himself a little more. Despite not being Eddie’s for a long time now, Steve can’t help the way his heart lurches anytime someone speaks badly of him. There’s so much this stupid town doesn’t know; Eddie is a savior and part of the reason Hawkins is still standing. He wonders briefly if they would think differently of him if the truth were to come out. Though, that’s quickly brushed away in favor of the rising anger Steve isn’t even trying to control. Why should he when there’s nothing to lose?

Turning around, Steve makes quick work of stumbling back over to the group who’s now cackling madly. There’s a moment where Gareth looks at him, even shakes his head, but Steve ignores him. It’s already too late to turn back now. How can he, anyway? Eddie’s never deserved the hand he was dealt. After a decade, the trash talk needs to go away for good.

“I’ve never liked that word – freak. Especially when it’s coming from boys like you,” Steve says, squaring up his shoulders to bring himself to full height. He’s surrounded on all sides by assholes but he’s not afraid. For the first time in a long time, Steve feels alive.

The leader of the group, some Jason Carver wannabe, turns to Steve, looking him up and down. There’s recognition that’s quickly diminished into a hatred only people in Hawkins can understand.

“What makes you think I give a shit what the town drunk has to say?”

There are snickers following the attempted insult; this ring leader has all of his flunkies trained well. Steve ignores them, however, setting his sights on the guy dumb enough to step up and take the bait. Despite not being athletic anymore and a little older than he was, Steve knows he can win a fight. There’s been more than a few in this very spot that ended in victory for Steve. He’s not afraid nor cowed by a jackass who talks about something he’s got no business even bringing up.

“You care enough to turn around and clap back. I’d say you’re pretty invested.” Steve smirks at that, knowing he’s got this guy right where he wants him.

As expected, the man takes a step towards Steve, his fingers clenching. “I would watch yourself if I were you. 7 to 1 isn’t much of a fight.”

Without thinking or even trying to act rationally, Steve smiles wider – his eyes darkening. “I like those odds,” he mutters a second before drawing back his right arm and swinging.

The punch lands right where he wants it. Steve is happy to see that the guy is all talk and no action. He blows back against the bar like he’s been hit by a truck, not a simple thing like Steve’s fist. His face is pinched into a grimace that gets worse when he sees the rest of the group just standing there staring.

“You’re just going to let him do that to me?” Steve’s victim roars, his hands that are covering his nose muffling the sound. A few of the guys jump into action while the rest take a step back. They’re smart not to take on a crazy person without anything to lose.

For what seems like hours, Steve fights them off. He throws punches and lets a few glance off him to get the advantage. By the time there’s blue and red flashing lights in the window, everyone is sporting at least one black eye and Steve’s knuckles are torn open, each one of them bleeding enough to leave track marks down the side of Steve’s shirt and jeans. He looks murderous and Hop says so as he’s putting him into cuffs.

“You look fucking rabid, Harrington. Ain’t nothing worth this.” Hop’s words are harsh but his hands are gentle on Steve’s wrists. They’ve been through this song and dance a few times before. All because of Eddie – always because of that damn boy.

“You don’t even know him anymore, Steve. Why do you do this to yourself?”

Steve contemplates that answer all the way to the station while he sits in the back of Hop’s squad car. The fifteen minute drive is enough to sober him somewhat, though there’s still a long way to go before clarity sets in. His mind is addled but one thing is clear, Eddie is always worth the punches Steve throws. Always.

After getting dragged into the station, Hop throws Steve into a chair in front of his desk. He sits down heavily, the tiredness of getting his ass kicked starting to set in. They both know exactly who Steve wants to call but Hop makes him wait. They toil in silence for ages, staring at each other but not seeing. Glancing but never quite making eye contact.

When this first happened, Hop tried his best to guide Steve. To this day the man feels like a father figure that Steve never had in his own daddy. Yet, Steve is and always has been too stubborn to do what’s best for himself. He’s ruled by emotion that weighs him down and forces him to remain stagnant. He’s stuck in the past where genuine happiness exists - even if it’s just for those handful of months. Steve doesn’t want to forget the way his heart pounded or the shape of Eddie’s lips against his own. Every trip to the police station is worth it. It has to be when Steve has nothing left.

It’s obvious that neither of them are going to talk so Hop huffs out an impatient breath before reaching for the phone on his desk. Steve usually dials the number but Hop doesn’t let him this time. His fingers glide over the buttons, the rhythm of it like music to Steve’s ears.

There’s a singular moment where Steve thinks Hop isn’t going to hand over the phone – a look in his eyes that Steve can’t quite decipher. Though, it’s gone as fast as it came; the receiver is in Steve’s hands before the slightest idea of what Hop is thinking comes to the surface of Steve’s drunken mind. Everyone has their problems, that much is obvious.

Like every time before, Hop leaves him to his own devices. After the call went unanswered the second time and Steve flipped out, Hop’s taken to giving him some privacy. Despite his misconduct, the town’s sheriff doesn’t actually want to arrest Steve. There’s too much history to allow a small misdemeanor to truly ruin Steve’s life. This, the handcuffs, the time spent in the station – it’s all a familiar procedure now. The choreography is soothing in a world where Steve knows there aren’t guarantees. At least some things never change.

The continual ringing of the phone in his hand pulls Steve back to the present. Usually, there’s a couple of half assed rings and then a long dial tone before the operator hops on to say the number has been disconnected. After Eddie pushed him out the door a decade ago, the trailer’s number never worked again, despite the millions of times Steve dialed it time and time again. The disconnection of that bond still stings, so Steve is perplexed to hear the ringing continue. It goes and goes until there’s a click and a miracle truly happens.

“Munson residence, this is Eddie.”

Steve’s breath catches and for a second, he forgets himself. He forgets that he’s been trying to get through for years and years. Steve is suddenly back in his bedroom with that voice whispering in his ear. It’s like 10 years of hurt and pain no longer exist.

Then, reality comes crashing back.

“If you’re one of those fuckers calling to yell about damnation, you can save it!”

Gasping, Steve clings to the here and now to reply before the call is hung up.

“Wait, wait. Don’t go, Eddie!”

There’s silence.

Then –

“Steve? Is that really you?”

“Yeah, Eddie. It’s me. I can’t – I can’t believe you finally picked up. 10 years later.”

“How did you – never mind. Where are you? And why are you calling?”

Steve scoffs, his emotions all over the place. “I’ve been calling for years – just to maybe hear your voice. Of course you finally answer when I’m stuck in handcuffs at the police station. How fucked is that?”

A chuckle sounds down the line, the vibration of it genuine and true in Steve’s ears. He wants to cry from the relief of finally hearing such a happy noise again. It’s insane knowing how much better he feels just from that one second of joyful sound.

“You called me as your one phone call? What would’ve happened if I didn’t pick up?”

“Well, you never have before. Hop usually throws me in the holding cell and lets me sleep it off. I cry for a bit and then drop into an exhausted slumber where I dream about you. Pretty standard stuff.”

“Oh, Steve – “  

The tone of Eddie’s voice is raw and pitying – any other time, Steve would’ve lashed out in order to protect himself and his pride. Yet, he’s too weak and relieved to hear Eddie at all that Steve let’s it slide. He clings to it, even – the dulcet tones of worry are better than the silence that usually follows him around.

“I’m okay, Eddie. Drunk and bruised up but okay. Better than ever now.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but sit tight, okay? I’ll be there soon.”

Steve can’t process the words so he hums and holds the phone tightly to his ear, keeping it there even after Eddie hangs up and the dial tone is all that’s left. Steve clings and clings until Hop walks back into the room and takes the receiver from him.

“He picked up this time, Hop. Must be my lucky day.”

Hop looks at him for a moment, contemplating whether Steve needs to know that he dialed the right number instead of the one Steve always uses before deciding against it. He simply smiles in Steve’s direction, placating the drunken boy who still feels like a son. For so many years, Hop watched Steve drag himself down. Tonight, putting him in the car was just too much. Hop isn’t all that certain Wayne won’t hate him later but Steve’s happiness is worth whatever backlash he may get. This thing, the isolation between two kids obviously still gone for each other, has gone on long enough.

Steve and Hop wait at the desk until the station’s front door opens. For Steve, the entire world stops – there’s no spinning on an axis or time passing him by. There’s only Eddie.

Despite 10 years continuing on, Eddie isn’t much different. There are a few laugh lines around his eyes and a new scar over his right eyebrow. He’s a little heavier because exercising is for the weak but that’s about it. Steve is transported back to the easy days when summer vacation and what’s for lunch were his only worries. His fingers itch to bury themselves in the thick strands of curly hair still hanging past Eddie’s shoulders, kinky and long as always. Steve wants so much that he’s overwhelmed and completely mute the entire time Eddie and Hop discuss the situation.

By the time Hop is taking him out of the cuffs, Steve’s drunkenness has reached a critical level. It’s difficult to hobble out to the car, even with the warm press of Eddie against his side. Steve is so intoxicated that he can’t even enjoy the rare gift that being next to Eddie is. He’s happy to simply be there with him, to sit in the passenger seat of a new car that smells like Eddie and the burn of Marbolo Reds. Steve can only smile and nod when Eddie asks him questions. There’s no cognition of what he’s being asked to do or say but Steve is happy all the same. For the first time in a decade, he drifts off to sleep without a semblance of tightness or misery sitting in his belly.

——

“Hey there, Stevie – “

The all too familiar voice has Steve turning over, a soft smile on his face. He can tell it’s Eddie talking to him, there’s no mistaking the affection that sounds in his ears, yet the outline of his body is hazy and unfocused. Steve reaches up to rub at his eyes but it’s no use. The achingly familiar tease of Eddie just barely out of his reach is so familiar, Steve knows he’s dreaming.

Despite that, he extends his arm in Eddie’s direction. Steve’s fingers throb with a desperate need to touch, the ache so very familiar. Like usual, Steve gets so close that the feeling of Eddie’s leather jacket under his skin is almost tangible. While the memory of that touch lingers, the real thing hovers away for no justifiable reason. Steve’s come to the conclusion that he’s not allowed happiness. After so long, he’s used to never getting what he wants.

The sound of a coffee maker beeping draws Steve out of his restless dream. He blinks awake with a heavy sigh, both frustrated and glad to be free of that glorious torture – at least until he manages to try and rest again later. Stretching in hopes of forgetting the turmoil already setting in, Steve leans into the feeling of his muscles loosening. He’s sore enough to know a fight occurred without the memories having to resurface. A quick flex of his hand drives that reality home tenfold. There are cracks and cuts across the skin, though they’re lacking the caked on dry blood that’s usually looking back at him. In fact, all of his injuries have been taken care of.

With this newfound knowledge, Steve finally takes in the rest of his surroundings. Instead of the corner of a jail cell, Steve is reclined on a decently comfortable couch. There is a pillow under his head and a handmade blanket over top of him. Everything smells familiar, like Eddie’s cologne and the natural musk of a well-loved home. He’s startled to realize that whatever happened last night isn’t a dream his hopeful heart concocted.

That’s further proven by a cup of coffee being pushed into his hands a couple of minutes later. Steve is so dumbstruck that it takes a second for his body to cooperate. Eddie patiently waits in front of him until there’s no risk of spilling hot liquid. Despite the warmth of the drink, Steve takes a handful of desperate sips before even thinking about taking on whatever’s coming next.

Surprisingly, it’s silence that follows. Steve watches Eddie drink his coffee. In return, those brown eyes stay on Steve, too. There’s some sort of stalemate happening that’s not going to be broken by Steve. He’s too busy soaking Eddie in while the caffeine of the coffee is absorbed into his blood stream. Little by little, Steve gets a better grip on himself – his heart starts beating fast, it’s normal reaction to Eddie so close. Instead of the sluggish drunk of last night, Steve becomes the person he truly is.

A lost soul with a lot of unresolved feelings.

Eddie must see that because he finally breaks the ice developing up between them.

“You look like shit, man.”

Forgetting himself for a second, Steve can’t help but laugh. His chest heaves with the unexpected intensity of such an emotion. For a minute at least, Steve chuckles until there are tears streaming down his face.

“Fuck – I forgot how much you make me feel.” Steve takes a second, let’s himself calm down. Then, he trucks on. “I am shit, Eddie. Have been for years now. I can’t believe you’re actually here. I thought I dreamed last night up.”

“Trust me, I’m very real.” Eddie stops for a second, inelegantly staring Steve down. “It’s crazy to think my first adventure back home is with you. After all this time, it’s like nothing’s changed.”

“You’re shitting me, right? Nothing’s changed? I called you from jail last night, Eddie. Like I’ve done at least a dozen times before. Everything has changed.”

Eddie has the decency to look embarrassed, his big brown eyes watering up before he blinks the moisture away. Steve can’t help but want those tears to fall, to see some sort of emotion that comes close to Steve’s own. After a decade of thinking about this moment, Steve is lost in a sea of overwhelm, unable to doggy paddle effectively. He wants so much, it’s hard to process what’s actually happening.

Though, he eventually gets himself together enough to ask the question burning up his mind. “Why did you pick up now? I’ve called plenty of times when you were in town before. The phone just rang and rang until the operator popped on to tell me I’m an idiot for calling a disconnected number. I’ve been listening to that recorded message so long it’s a comfort to hear.”

Steve isn’t ready for the sudden infiltration of his space but deals with it when Eddie takes up the couch cushion next to him. Their thighs are inches from touching, the heat between them tangible. Steve so desperately wants to lash out and push Eddie away, to return the treatment he himself received. Yet, the comfort of a familiar body next to him is too much to handle. The fight leaves Steve within seconds.

“Hop dialed for you last night. He put in Wayne’s new number and you finally got through. I don’t know why he waited so long to share it with you, Steve. I’m suddenly aware of a lot of things I didn’t know.”

The bubbling pit of sadness Steve deals with on a daily basis drops a little further into his stomach. The realization that Hop could have helped him long ago settles in, making Steve feel heavy. It takes a second or two to come to the understanding that though it hurt him, Hop was trying to protect Steve, too.

“He was trying to save me, I’m sure. From this,” Steve says, waving his hands back and forth between them. “I’m a very weak man but that’s nothing compared to the fall out that’s about to come. Now that you’re here, I see very clearly that I’m going to have to give you up again.”

Tears are falling down Steve’s cheeks long before he realizes it. His shirt, or maybe Eddie’s because it’s a touch too tight across the chest, is getting wet, the collar collecting his sadness by the second. Steve is too tired and wrung out to reach up and swipe at each traitorous one. Instead, he lets them flow.

A soft hand on his chin stops Steve’s spiral. Guitar calloused fingers are so recognizable it’s like they’re 20 again, touching for the first time. Though, that thought jolts Steve back to reality and he shifts away. Little tastes of things he’s never going to be able to keep aren’t good for him. He’s an addict that isn’t anywhere near following the path to recovery. This bump, this small little hit, it’s going to put him back years.

“Don’t do that, Eddie. Don’t touch me like it’s not going to kill me. Don’t pretend that you care.”

“I do care. I’ve cared since before Vecna came in and destroyed our lives. I left because I care, Steve. Why can’t you see that?”

A red flash of rage swims in Steve’s vision. He’s much to hungover to be having this conversation but it’s happening, nonetheless. Steeling himself, Steve says the things he’s wanted to since the separation occurred.  

“That’s bull shit. If you cared, you never would have left. You never would have turned your back on me.”

“Steve, you shut me out. I told you I needed to leave for your safety and mine. I said I had to go because this town doesn’t forgive or forget. We were getting death threats every day. You, me, my uncle – even the kids. I couldn’t put you guys through that anymore.” Eddie’s voice rises, his anger peaking. “You decided you weren’t going to talk to me anymore. That the distance between us was too big to handle.”

“Because I needed you! I needed you to be there for me. You left right after my parents did, abandoning me like them. You took off without asking me how I felt about it. I would’ve braved every single person in town who thought they had the right to say something to or about you. Hell, I punched that guy last night in the face because he let your name fall from his lips. You’re worth the fight, Eddie. Even now.”

Steve’s so lost in his anger and resentment that it’s impossible to continue. If he says another word or thinks another thought, Steve’s positive he’s going to explode. There’s so much he wants to scream in Eddie’s face but none of it matters. Eddie is crying and Steve, despite the time and baggage between them, can’t stand to see the sight. No matter how often he wished to cause Eddie the same pain Steve deals with daily, he can’t deal with the reality of it. Without thought, both of his arms wrap around Eddie’s shoulders and pull until they’re chest to chest, hugging each other tightly.

For now, it’s the only thing they can give to each other, unresolved issues be damned. Steve knows that by the way all the fight leaves Eddie’s body. He feels it in the squeeze Eddie gives him back. There is no resolution or simple answers in sight. After so long, there might never be.

Leaning into Eddie’s touch, Steve comes to the conclusion that this right here, coming back together after years of miscommunication and anger, is everything and nothing, the perfectly imperfect way things work out following desperate hurt and sadness that separated entities meant to exist as one. There’s no way of knowing what happens next but Steve is content to rest in Eddie’s arms.

There, he is safe.

There, Steve can feel whole again.

In the moment, that’s all Steve really needs.

tag list (message if you’d like to be added): @infinite-orangepeel, @thefreakandthehair, @corrodedcoughin, @prettyboisteveharrington, 

[fanficsfreeideas]

Polyamorousrivalryweek day 5 Maid cafe chap 4

For days, Alastor had been feeling unwell, a constant sense of nausea churning in his stomach and a suffocating fatigue weighing him down. The torment inflicted by Adam, Lucifer, and Vox was taking its toll on him. He had thought he could handle it, but the weight of their actions was too much to bear, and he could feel himself starting to break under the pressure.

Alastor covered his mouth with a flashback of the night; it had started off innocently enough, with Alastor in the company of Lucifer, Adam, and Vox. They had been drinking something sweet that Lucifer had given them, though Alastor wasn't a fan of sweets. Little did he know, it had been laced with something that would soon take over his entire being.

As the effects of the drink kicked in, Alastor's memories became hazy. He vaguely remembered sinister smiles and whispered words from the others, as well as the feeling of Lucifer's hand on his stomach. Despite not being able to hear what Lucifer was saying, one word cut through the fog: Run.

At first, Alastor didn't understand why he needed to run. But then he caught a scent in the air that was overwhelming and primal, surrounding him from all sides. His mind grew fuzzy, and his instincts took over as a new urge began to crawl under his skin. A strange warmth pooled in his belly as his senses sharpened, allowing him to smell the others who were now surrounding him.

Alastor tried to fight it at first, but soon he could feel his body responding to this primal call. He couldn't believe it—he was acting like a doe in heat. Embarrassed and panicked, he tried to resist, but his body betrayed him. As if on cue, a bleat escaped his throat before he could stop it. But then he saw them—glimmering eyes hidden within the thick brush of the forest. His hunters were watching him with predatory hunger. They had followed him into the woods and transformed into powerful creatures, ready to hunt their prey, Alastor.

In a moment of realization, Alastor understood that they had transfomed their bodies into bucks. With his heart pounding in his chest and his hooves thudding against the forest floor, Alastor desperately tried to escape their scents that filled the air and marked their territory. But no matter where he ran, there was no escape. The musk of Vox, the playful yet dangerous aroma of Adam, and the commanding presence of Lucifer clung to his skin, claiming him as their own like how they claim this forest.

Gasping for air, Alastor stumbled over a gnarled root and tumbled to the ground, landing heavily in the damp earth. His vision was blurred with exhaustion, and his heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to push himself up. But as he blinked away the disorientation, he realized with pure horror what he had fallen into. Expletives flew from his lips as he frantically tried to shake off the thick, pungent scent of their marking, but it clung to him like a second skin. Panic surged through him once more, urging him to flee, but the smell of rutting males was everywhere, enveloping him in a haze that clouded his thoughts and stirred something primal within him.

Despite his best efforts to fight it, his body reacted instinctively to their dominance. His tail whipped upwards, baring himself even more to the surrounding hunters who were closing in on him. In a frenzy of conflicting thoughts and sensations, Alastor's mind struggled to make sense of what was happening. Why did the woods reek so heavily of them? Every tree and every bush carried their mark. And why did his body betray him, responding to their scent and presence against his will? As he ran on shaky legs, desperation driving every movement, the feeling inside him grew stronger and more insistent. A heat that clawed at him, demanding release.

He knew he should be fleeing for his life. That was what they wanted, what he wanted deep down in the darkest corners of his mind. But exhaustion and confusion blurred the edges of his thoughts, slowing his pace until he stumbled and bleated in frustration. In that moment of vulnerability, Lucifer stepped out from the shadows with eyes glowing with dangerous hunger. His antlers were large, giving him an intimidating presence like that of a magnificent buck in his prime. His gaze fixed on Alastor with a possessive intensity. "Look at you." Lucifer's voice was dark and smooth, filled with satisfaction. "Already so desperate. Why fight it, my little doe?"

Alastor's breath hitched in his throat as he tried to back away, but his body betrayed him once again, instinct overriding reason. He couldn't control the twitching of his tail, lifting higher as if in invitation even as his mind screamed at him to stop. Before he could fully comprehend the situation, Adam appeared on his left, his smile deceptively sweet but his eyes gleaming with dark intentions. Vox followed on his right, his form flickering with static and a predatory gleam in his gaze.

They closed in slowly, the air thick with their musk as they surrounded Alastor. Each movement was calculated and graceful, like hunters closing in on their prey. And Alastor was trapped, backed into the rough bark of a tree with nowhere to run. Lucifer leaned in close, his hot breath tickling Alastor's neck as he whispered in his ear. "You smell perfect. Just like a doe in heat." A shiver ran down Alastor's spine at those words, his body responding with a sharp pang of need that he couldn't deny or control. His mind screamed at him to flee, but the scent of rutting males was overwhelming and the call of instinct too powerful. Vox was the first to make a move, his fingers crackling with static as they trailed down Alastor's exposed thigh, eliciting a tremble from him. "Ready for us, aren't you?" he buzzed with dark amusement.

Adam chuckled and stepped closer, gently petting Alastor's cheek before trailing his hand down to rest possessively on his neck. "Don't worry, darling," he purred. "We'll take good care of you. You're ours now." Before Alastor could even think to protest, Lucifer's strong hands gripped his hips and pulled him closer. His body felt like it was on fire, every nerve screaming with both fear and something more dangerous—something primal and animalistic. Despite his mind telling him to run, his body had stopped fighting. The smell of rutting males was too much, overpowering all rational thought. And then they claimed him.

Alastor fights back from throwing up. flashback

Lucifer was the first one to claim him, grasping him firmly in his hands as he positioned him onto all fours. The scent of Lucifer's musk filled the air, marking the submissive before mounting and taking him with a ferocity that would have hurt if not for whatever concoction Alastor had consumed beforehand. With each thrust, Adam supports Alastor's upper body from collapsing onto the ground. "Good boy," Adam praised, affectionately petting his cheek. "Look at you, taking Lucifer so well." Vox chuckled at the sight of Lucifer grunting and slamming into Alastor harder and harder, causing Alastor to let out a small whimper. "Starting to hurt?" Alastor whimper out. Lucifer growled, snapping his hips even deeper into Alastor until he let out a loud scream.

"Shhh, Bambi," Adam cooed, running his fingers over Alastor's lips before pulling out a bottle and forcing it into his mouth. "This will help you." As Alastor's eyes began to change, becoming softer and more doe-like, he started to pant and moan for Lucifer to fully claim him. For an hour straight, Lucifer continued to take him until finally coming inside of him. As his eyes cleared, he saw Vox and Adam laughing at him for losing control. "Fuck you both," he growled playfully. But then he heard Alastor still moaning and panting, feeling his pussy tightening around his cock as he tried to extract every last drop of his seed. "I didn't hurt him, did I?" Lucifer asked worriedly.

"Nah," Vox said with a sly grin, Adam, handing Alastor another vial of potion. "Bambi will be good till morning," he declared before turning to Vox and delivering a playful hit. "Luci, you really made him scream this time. And not in the good way," Adam chimed in, watching Lucifer's handiwork with fascination.

"We want to train him," Lucifer purred, pulling out and slowly running his fingers along Alastor's folds. He pushed them inside, twirling and flicking with expert precision, causing Alastor to moan softly. "We need to get him to listen only to us, not break him," Adam explained, eyes locked on Lucifer's fingers as they teased and prodded at Alastor's sensitive area.

"Hey, it's my turn, Lucifer." Vox protested eagerly, craving a taste of Alastor's pleasure for himself. "Hush, Vox," Lucifer commanded with a smirk, enjoying the control he had over his companions. With his fingers still buried inside his pet being clutched tightly around Alastor's sensitive area, coaxing out more moans and gasps from his pet, he reached back and smacked Vox playfully on the cheek before returning his attention to his pet, knowing Alastor was now fully at his mercy.

Alastor could feel himself starting to unravel under Lucifer's touch, but he was lost in the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through his body. Before he knew it, he was coming onto Lucifer's fingers with a soft cry. "That's it, pet," Lucifer praised as he withdrew his fingers and offered them to Vox. With a mischievous grin, Vox eagerly took them into his mouth and sucked on them hungrily, taking in both Alastor's juices and Lucifer's own essence. Adam couldn't help but gag at the sight, still not understanding how his two friends enjoyed these types of activities together.

Lucifer had moved away. Letting Vox mark Alastor like a possession, claiming him as his own and sending a clear message to any other animal demons who he belongs to. Adam frowns really, Vox; you did not need to soak him. Vox only smiled and said, “I want Alastor to know who he belongs to, and other animal demons know to keep their hands to themselves.” Vox then mounted Alastor, asserting his dominance and control.

Alastor's eyes glowed with a fiery red as he snorted and tried to shake Vox off of him. Adam held him still, while Lucifer gently rubbed Alastor's ear, coaxing him to be good for Vox and letting him mount and breed him. Alastor whined and bleated in protest, but Lucifer hushed him, and Adam shushed him as well. "Bambi, feel how good it is," Lucifer murmured, "how Vox's cock moves inside you with each stroke. Listen to his grunts; he's making them just for you. Your cunt is bringing your buck such pleasure; you're such a good doe." Alastor's ears twitched, and he started panting, his body responding to Vox's movements.

After 35 minutes, Vox finally came, with Alastor huffing and puffing underneath him. Adam looked at Vox in amusement and said mockingly, "Vox, only 35 minutes? I thought you could last longer than that." Vox shrugged nonchalantly. "Shut up, Adam. Mounting him was just too great; I couldn't hold out any longer." Meanwhile, Alastor was moaning and crying from the intense pleasure he was feeling. Vox briefly considered eating him out when he started to pull out of him, but he only slapped Alastor ass playfully. Vox then grinned at the sight of how wet Alastor was.

Adam spoke up, lifting an eyebrow incredulously. "Vox, aren't you going to let him climax at all?" "Nah," Vox replied casually. "I'm giving that job to you." Lucifer rolled his eyes at the exchange between the two men. Alastor's cries echoed through the forest, mingling with the scents of Vox, Lucifer, and Adam, mixed in with Alastor's sweet scent of his juices running down his legs, soaking the ground beneath him as he felt like he was on fire from within. His hooves stomped against the ground while his hands grasped desperately at the earth below. His head thrashed back and forth in search of the ecstasy that his body craved but was continuously denied.

"It's okay, Bambi," Adam said soothingly as he approached Alastor. "I'll make you feel better." He positioned himself in front of Alastor before marking him, causing Alastor to whimper and gasp for air as something warm hit his face. He started to cough while Adam patted his cheek. Fuck Adam, did you have to mark his face? Shit, I think some got in his mouth, then both refused to touch Alastor's face.

Adam laughed, "Come on guys, we've pissed all over this forest and shat on the ground. Let's show our little deer some love." The two men looked at each other before nodding in agreement and gently rubbing Alastor's ears. As Adam started making sounds like buck, he mounted Alastor. But when he felt Alastor tense up, he began speaking to him in a calming voice, praising him for being such a good doe for his bucks so far. “Bambi I promise, you'll let me mount you like a good doe that you are, and we will let you rest," Adam whispered seductively. Alastor's tail moved higher up in response, and he made small noises of approval.

Adam's lips curled into a sly smirk as he slowly began to thrust, eagerly awaiting the sound of his doe moaning out for him. His grin widened when he heard his name slip past Alastor's lips, spurring him on to pick up speed and let the buck side of him take over. Lucifer and Vox watched with frustration as they wondered how Adam had managed to get Alastor to say his name, but they continued to rub and soothe Alastor's ears as he panted and moaned, lost in pleasure. As Alastor's hips started to rock back and forth, the two males had to hold him still, restraining him as he begged them to let go. But when Alastor started to climax over and over again, his head resting on Lucifer's shoulder as he let out tiny pants and grunts, they knew they couldn't deny him any longer.

Adam grinned triumphantly at both males, knowing he had been going at it for a good hour and a half. He sank his teeth into Alastor's shoulder, making eye contact with Lucifer as his eyes glowed a bright gold before snapping his hips hard and deep, causing Alastor to scream his name so loudly that even the birds took flight from the trees. Alastor collapsed against Lucifer, gasping for air as he rode out his intense orgasm. Meanwhile, Adam grunted as he finally released his seed inside of Alastor, painting every inch of his cunt inside and out.

With a satisfied smirk, Adam declared, "I told you I would be the first to make him scream my name." But Vox and Lucifer were far from happy, watching as Alastor whined and bleated, rubbing his face along Lucifer's in a clear sign of wanting more attention and possibly another round. Smirking deviously, Lucifer responded, "Okay, pet." And just like that, the cycle began again as Adam pulled out and Alastor eagerly welcomed another round of pleasure and passion.

Alastor collapsed into his chair, a wave of sickness washing over him. He closed his eyes, trying to push away the memories of what had happened in the forest. They had mated him like an animal, their hunger unrelenting as they took turns with him. Alastor's mind was clouded with drugs, unable to fully comprehend or fight against the dominance they exerted over him.

As they marked him with their scents, he could only bleat out protests that were quickly drowned out by desperate, needy cries. He was bred again and again, his body completely succumbing to their control. When it was over, the forest reeked of them—of him. Alastor lay on the ground trembling, lost in a haze of confusion and pain.

Lucifer leaned down, running a hand through Alastor's piss-soaked hair with a dark and satisfied smile. "You'll always remember this night, my little pet," he said, reminding Alastor that he belonged to them. There was no escape from their grasp.

As the morning air hit his naked body covered in their scent, Alastor could feel himself starting to shake from both cold and fear. Adam's gaze lingered on his breasts, causing them to harden in response. The realization of what had happened hit Alastor like a ton of bricks, and tears began to stream down his face.

No longer was he a powerful Overlord or the infamous Radio Demon. He was something else now—something that belonged to them; he was only their pet. Lucifer reached down and lifted Alastor up, placing his head onto his shoulder as if he were nothing more than a helpless fawn.

Adam then spoke up, telling him that he would have the day off from work because they had another job for him to do. Alastor could only cry harder at the thought of what other horrors awaited him. Vox patted Alastor's head, trying to console him with empty words before telling him to go to sleep. Exhausted and broken, Alastor gave in and let himself fall into an uneasy sleep.

Alastor's cries echoed through the break room, his hands clenched tightly in despair. The other preyed animal sinners watched helplessly, wanting to offer comfort but knowing there was nothing they could do. They were all aware of who Alastor belonged to and the repercussions that came with defying Vox's orders—being sold off to Valentino. The king also had warned them not to interfere, while Adam ordered his workers to stay away from his "doe.” It was a painful sight to witness, which is why the others took on some of Alastor's work for him. They could see something was wrong with him, yet they were powerless to help him in any other way. They also had to be cautious, as they didn't want to get caught aiding him and facing the wrath of his boyfriends.

The café door was firmly locked, a handwritten closed sign hanging from the handle. The flickering lights of the setting sun cast long shadows on the empty tables, their polished surfaces reflecting the fading light. They stood as silent witnesses to Alastor's despair. The café had closed early, a rare occurrence that only happened when Alastor had crossed one of his boyfriends. And he knew he had messed up this time. Alastor was feeling weak but determined not to show it. A golden chain hung around his neck, a constant reminder of his punishment.

Lucifer lounged comfortably in a chair, a soft, sinister smile playing on his lips. He seemed almost pleased with himself as he watched Alastor squirm. Vox stood nearby, his foot planted firmly on Alastor's back, pushing him down onto the cold floor. "Now, pet," Lucifer purred. "I don't know what got into you, but I will forgive you... Come here and put your mouth to good use."

Alastor went to stand, but before he could take a step, Vox's foot pressed down harder. "No bitch," he snarled, "you're going to crawl to Luci like the bitch you are." Adam stood off to the side, arms crossed and shaking his head disapprovingly. "I'm very disappointed in you, Bambi," he scolded, using Alastor's nickname. "Telling Lucy to go fuck himself." Alastor whimpered but began crawling towards Lucifer as ordered. Lucifer's smirk grew wider as he patted his lap. "Now pet," he chided, pulling on the chain to make Alastor's face land in his lap. "Open your mouth."

With trembling hands, Alastor opened his mouth and felt Lucifer's cock thrust inside. Lucifer held his head down firmly as he began to thrust, commanding Alastor to suck him until he was hard. Lucifer's hand gently stroked Alastor's head, his fingers running through the demon's hair and causing his ears to twitch in pleasure. Alastor submitted to the touch, focusing on pleasuring Lucifer as his tongue swirled around the hardened length in his mouth.

With a throaty grunt, Lucifer released Alastor from his grip, leaving him slightly dizzy and drooling. He found himself on Lucifer's lap, seeking comfort and warmth in the presence of the powerful demon. As he nuzzled against Lucifer's cheek, a small yawn escaped him.

“Feeling tired, Alastor?” Lucifer’s voice was sweet and low, like molten honey dripping from his tongue. His hand traced slow circles on Alastor’s back, the rhythm both soothing and unsettling. “We haven't even done anything yet, my pet.” Alastor tensed as Vox appeared behind him, casting a long shadow over them both. With a gentle kiss against Alastor’s neck, Vox's cool breath sent shivers down his spine, adding to the overwhelming mix of sensations consuming him. The sound of Vox's voice buzzed softly in his ear as he whispered, "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you. Just let go."

Adam, meanwhile, occupied himself by gripping Alastor’s hips with strong, calloused hands. He lifted them up and guided them to align perfectly with Lucifer's throbbing cock. A sly smile played on Lucifer's lips as he watched the pair of them. "Pet, I forgive you," he purred, his voice dripping with seduction. "We must have been working you too hard. So tonight, we will fuck you while you have to do nothing at all." With a snap of his fingers, Adam began moving Alastor's hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm against Lucifer's hardness. Alastor could hardly process the intense sensations as their combined weight pressed down upon him, both pleasurable and terrifying at the same time.

"Relax, Bambi," Adam cooed, his words tinged with a playful air that always made Alastor's skin crawl. "You're our precious little doe. Just ride him like the good boy you are." Vox continued to trail kisses along Alastor's neck, sending shivers down his spine. Meanwhile, Lucifer sucked one of Alastor's sensitive nipples into his mouth and began to suckle on it eagerly. The overwhelming sensations threatened to overwhelm Alastor, but he couldn't deny the pleasure coursing through his body as they claimed him for their own.

Alastor felt a mixture of embarrassment and anger rise within him, but exhaustion kept him firmly in their grasp. As Adam continued to move Alastor's hips in sync with Lucifer's thrusts, causing the edges of his consciousness to blur and the room to spin with a haze of unwanted sensations. Lucifer released Alastor's breast and brushed his lips against Alastor's ear, whispering seductively, "Let go, my dear pet. Join us as one."

In that moment, Alastor's senses were overwhelmed by the intense pressure of their bodies pressing against him, the searing heat emanating from Lucifer's skin as he thrust relentlessly into him. Vox's lips trailed down his neck, leaving a fiery trail in their wake. Adam's hands gripped his hips firmly, directing his movements and adding to the mounting pleasure. Despite his mind screaming for release and escape, Alastor couldn't deny the physical response of his body. The sensations built and swirled into a dizzying crescendo, threatening to consume him entirely.

Suddenly, Alastor bleated out in pain as he felt Vox enter him from behind. Lucifer snapped at Vox, tightening his arms around Alastor possessively. Vox Alastor's ass belonged to Adam first. Adam simply sighed. Lucy, that’s okay. Vox would have to wait a month before getting a turn with Alastor for taking what belongs to me. In a fit of playfulness, Lucifer kicked Vox, causing him to climax inside of Alastor.

Amidst the laughter and teasing between them all, Alastor couldn't keep up with the chaotic rhythm of their movements. He was moaning and panting uncontrollably, feeling completely consumed by their desires. But just when he thought he couldn't handle any more, his body betrayed him. With a surge of nausea along with climaxing, and before he could even comprehend what was happening, darkness engulfed him.

As Lucifer reached his own climax, he suddenly noticed that Alastor had passed out from the overwhelming sensations. To make matters worse, he had thrown up on Lucifer in the process. Adam was also caught in the crossfire and got hit in the face with vomit. Vox could only watch in amusement before bursting into laughter at their predicament.

Alastor slowly regained consciousness, his mind a fog of confusion and fear. His eyes fluttered open to find himself cradled in Lucifer's arms, the demon's expression shifting from amusement to alarm. Alastor attempted to move away, but Lucifer caught him just in time, preventing him from falling off the couch they were laying on. "Alastor!" Lucifer's voice was sharp and commanding, cutting through the haze in Alastor's mind. "What happened?"

Alastor struggled to gather his thoughts, his heart racing with panic. Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks as he fought against the urge to lie and protect himself from whatever punishment Lucifer might dole out. But the truth lingered on the tip of his tongue, held back by a flimsy wall of fear.

"I...I don't know," he stammered, feeling small and powerless under Lucifer's intense gaze. "I'm fine." "Don't lie to me," Lucifer growled, his tone low and threatening. "You know I don't like it when you lie, pet." The weight of Lucifer's words hung heavy in the air. Alastor's chest tightened as he struggled against the urge to shield himself with a false excuse. But deep down, he knew that wouldn't work this time. The tears he had been holding back spilled over, betraying his fragile state.

"I just want to go home...back to the hotel," Alastor choked out, his voice breaking as reality crashed down upon him. He felt his body trembling with fear and vulnerability. "But, Alastor," Lucifer purred, his voice smooth yet laced with something dark and sinister, "you are home now. You have us to take care of you."

At those words, Alastor shivered with dread. The idea of being taken care of by them had twisted into something grotesque and terrifying. The thought of it was enough to send another wave of panic through him, and he could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks. "No! I don't want this! I don't want any of this!" He cried out, his frustration and fear pouring out at once. Lucifer sighed, a hint of disappointment in his gaze, but he remained unfazed. "You'll learn to love us, pet. You'll come to appreciate what we do for you." He then ordered Adam to take care of Alastor, and the demon wrapped his arms protectively around Alastor and lifted him from Lucifer's chest.

"Vox," Lucifer called out, standing up to pull on his pants. "I think it's time for our doe to take a break from work. It seems like he needs twenty-four-hour care from us until he has our fawns." Alastor found himself cocooned in Adam's embrace, feeling both comforted and threatened by the heat radiating from the demon's body. Vox stepped closer, studying Alastor with an unreadable expression before finally speaking up.

"Yes, it does seem that way," Vox said calmly. Alastor felt a shiver run through him, half-expectation and half-terror at the thought of what kind of care they had in mind. As if sensing his fear, Lucifer spoke again. "Don't worry, pet," he cooed mockingly, "there's no need to be scared. We're proud of you for carrying our fawns. And as a reward for being such a good doe, we'll take care of you."

Alastor felt the walls closing in on him as he whimpered in protest before passing out from sheer terror and exhaustion. Vox and Adam exchanged a look with Lucifer, who frowned with concern. "We should arrange a playdate for him with Charlie," Lucifer said thoughtfully, "and maybe let him have some fun at the hotel. After all, pets do need time to play." “Now let's take him home and tuck him into bed.” Lucifer started walking, and the other two started to follow.

[vaguely-concerned]

if there's one thing the locked tomb series can teach us, it's that sleep is important. when necromancers start messing around with their own bodies to try to make up for not catching those sweet zzz's for a couple of days, we get such things as Soup and also Nuclear Armageddon. I'm not saying john taking a nap would have averted the end of the world, but he may have gotten a little bit less insane about it at least

[bloodycassian]

Reader x Cassian - Hellish Prompt: Reader is an assassin/spy that was caught and azriel has spent months torturing her for information and can’t get anything out of her and cassian eventually goes to see who this assassin/spy is and the mating bond snaps and cassian beats the $hitt out of az bc of the mating bond instincts and rhys has to intervene and break up the fight (i was thinking this could switch between azriel’s POV at the start and then switch to cassian's POV)

AN- this was SO fun to make. Please more requests like this!! I love the idea of unexpected mates!

TW -blood/ blades.  

Drip, drip, drip. Copper smell filled the small room. Blood leaked down the drain in the floor. You wheezed a laugh bitterly and spat on the ground at his feet. Azriel's rage simmered calmly under his dark shadows. They coiled, ready to strike. Wanting to strike. The sound of your feeble laughs was practically the only sound Azriel had gotten from you for the first week of torture.  The second week was worse, even for him. Truth teller revealed nothing when he gouged into your skin from the bottom up. Truthfully, he was impressed beyond measure. But that didnt mean that he could stop the job at hand. He had to know, and wished he didnt have to do this kind of thing to get the information from you. "Listen..." He sighed, cleaning his blade. He was always nervous whenever he had a back turned to an enemy, no matter how well they were restrained. But he trusted his shadows enough to tell him if something was wrong.  "If you just.. Cooperate and tell me where the Queens are, we can let you go. No trouble, just releasing you back to Rask." He tried to keep his tone neutral, but he was nearing an exhaustion point. Torture every day for two weeks had its toll not only on the victim, but the dealer as well. His shadows seemed to be growing restless too, waiting for a chance to strike.  He watched your reaction from the corner of his eye. Noted the way your head hanging loosely seemed to gain a bit more strength before you spoke. "Losing your touch, Spymaster?" You revealed a row of bloody teeth to him, and grunted when the chains at your wrists stung the magic that weakly attempted to help you.  Azriel could have sighed. He could have laughed and bled you dry. Have a healer come and patch you up enough to keep you alive. The idea was tempting, but he didn't like having anyone besides his brothers see him in this mode of darkness. He could have brought Rhys down to attempt to break into your mind again. After the first attempt and Rhys' reaction to being blocked, he wasn't eager for that again. So he sighed, and brought out the potions laced with Faebane.  + He was convinced you weren't a normal Fae. After months of his best torture methods he was a wreck. "She just-" He tried to hide his frustration, but his brothers knew him best. Cassian smirked by the fire, warming his wings. Rhys seemed a bit more concerned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Azriel had never been one to spend a long time on torture. Rhys saw the frustration flowing from him after every session with the stubborn Fae in the dungeon cell.  "I dont know what to do anymore. She's the only one to have never broken." He ran a hand though his hair. His shadows seemed weak, exhausted like him.  Rhys considered for a moment, looking between his two brothers. Cassian seemed to be enjoying Azriel's frustration. Maybe a bit too much. Rhys sipped his wine then, with a look of innocence, "Maybe we will have Cassian end it. Perhaps seeing the Lord of Death in front of her will knock something loose."  Cassian's stare whipped to him, a silent plea on his face. "We should leave it to our expert Rhys-" Azriel laughed, cold and bitter. "The expert hasn't got a damn thing out of her. We either kill her or send her back to Rask with all the information she's collected about us. With nothing in return." Shame lined his features. The sense of failure to his high lord was a heavy weight to bear. "Cas...I expect you down there tomorrow afternoon. It will be her last chance." Rhys' no nonsense tone shut down Cassian's retort. His jaw locked with distaste. He hated the cramped cells below the house of wind. Hated the way going underground made his wings feel like they needed to stretch. The worst was when that stale air was laced with the rotting smell of dead mice or old blood. It made his skin crawl just thinking about it.  "Come on Cas, dont you want to see the only one that's outlasted me?" Az asked with a mock grin. He couldn't give the same smile back. Turmoil spilled inside him at the thought of going so far below the mountain.  + Cassian took a long time to go to bed that night. His restlessness about the next day made him wake up over and over, never having more than an hour of peace before being waken up.  Azriel held up a mug of tea to him the next morning. "You look like shit." He handed his brother the mug with a small smile. Cassian glared at him, but took it anyway. He went to the balcony, his heavy wings needing to feel the fresh air. It was like taking a bath after being covered in grime. He sighed in relief, letting the late morning sun graze his body. The cold wind from Illyria was beginning to come in for the winter, and the familiar smell ignited something in him. He felt a draw, but shoved it to the back of his mind. He knew what he had to be this day. "Why the hell do we have to keep them so far down again?" Cassian complained. Around and around and around. Down deeper and deeper into the pit of the mountain that the house above was carved out of. Cassian felt like his lungs were collapsing the further they went. He tried not to let his nerves show, but he knew Az's shadows would pick up on it anyway.  "Remember when you broke your arm chasing down that Attor?" Azriel could have laughed at that memory, but the story surrounding it made the experience soured. More shame on top of the guilt already there.  Cassian hummed in approval, welcoming the distraction the memory brought. He tried not to focus on how each turn of the staircase got darker and darker. How the air seemed to compress around him. He locked his eyes on the scar on one of Az's wings. "And we spent a week fixing the top story of that apothecary?" He asked, keeping his voice steady.  "Yes. Dont you remember how the Attor got out?" Cassian shook his head, and Azriel huffed a laugh. "I left the door open for just a second to get a new knife and..." He shook his head, part in anger and regret, part in shame. "It had escaped before I turned around. I dont know how it happened, to this day."  Cassian stared at the back of the shadowmaster's head. The dark ripples around him seemed to spike. "It happens Az, you can't be perfect."  "It's not perfection, its basic thought. After that we moved all enemies to the lower dungeons. No matter the threat. Rhys even put wards on the arches." He ran a hand over the walls, his fingers catching a few of the grooves that linked each spelled archway to the other.  Cassian left the conversation at that. At least his brother wasn't brooding as much as before. The dim lights began to come into view, and his heart began hammering. Adrenaline singing through his veins. His polished siphons glowed, reflecting red off the dark stone ceiling. He had polished all his black armor the night before, when he couldn't sleep. Something poked, prodded at him all night. Keeping him awake. He figured he may as well make use out of it.  "She's not going to talk to you unless you show..weakness first." Azriel said in a low voice. Cassian nodded, reaching the end of the stairwell with him.  Cassian couldn't see the dark figure in the cell, but he felt the presence nonetheless. The dark draw that you demanded. He wondered how Azriel had dealt with that pull this whole time. The tantalizing draw to you. He shook his head, pushed the hair out of his face and nodded to Azriel.  He opened the door, then began his ritual. At the start of every session he would toss a bucket of water over your body, then a bucket of salt. It made the wounds that handn't healed fully scream in pain. You jolted at the suddenness of it this time. "Good morning, shadowsinger." You ground out, voice rough with strain. Cassian watched in awe at his brother.  Cassian was never one for torture. There was a reason Azriel was appointed to this position. Watching the calm cruelness of him was jarring, but Cassian kept his face straight. He stood behind you, watching the flimsy attempts to pull at the shackles holding your arms up. Lacerations dotted each arm, some light pink scars. Some were still scabbing over. A chill ran down his spine.  "You have a guest today, would you like to see him?" Azriel's voice was cool, calm. Like he was speaking orders to a group of soldiers. He began slicing new lines into your arms, moving up to your neck. He had left your ears in tact, as a last resort if you refused to speak to Cassian. The pull Cassian felt was overwhelming. He walked a bit too quickly around you, plastered on a wicked smile for show, then crouched down. The smile faded when he finally saw your face. Your dripping hair was a horror on its own. Plastered to the skeletal cheekbones, and pale eyes. Those eyes were brighter than anything he'd ever seen. A field of flowers down the slope of Illyrian mountains. His world shifted, drawing the breath from him. "Mine." His mind seemed to roar with that alone, but in a thousand different variations. "Lover, friend, partner, mine mine mine. Mate. My mate." His lips quivered with the realization. With the way his heart soared, and the way he moved without realizing it. He choked a gasp, and fell forward on his knees before you. He saw the same astonishment in your reaction. Azriel dropped his sword, confusion and concern alert on his features. "Cas wh-" Before he could finish, before his shadows could detect that Cassian had even moved, his brother was on top of him. Cassian's knuckles stung with every punch. A new kind of rage flared inside him. It made his muscles yearn for violence. Made his teeth crave the flesh of those that so much as looked at you wrong. There was no mercy for Azriel, it was as if he was an enemy on the battlefield. Cassian held nothing back. You hung limply from the chains that bound you. Crunch after crunch sounded from Azriel. He eventually managed to push Cassian off of him. Then they locked together in battle again. Clashes of armor against armor were deafening. The snarls they ripped at each other were loud enough to make you cringe. Your heart squeezed at the sounds of Cassian's breath. At the scent of blood spilling. You pulled feebly at the chains, your mind roaring to protect him.  Your mate. You tried to watch the battle, but the weakness in your body refused to let you turn more than a few inches. They were panting, Cassian fighting with a ferocity Azriel had never seen. His eyes flared with rage, like he was possessed. "Cas-" Azriel grunted, shoving his brother backwards. His back hit yours, pushing you down and digging those stone cuffs into your wrists. You hissed in pain. Cassian roared and lunged at his brother again, and again.  The darkness that boomed outside the cell was jarring. The stone ceiling shuddered, small rocks and dirt falling from it. Cassian did not stop. He didn't hesitate, coming at Azriel with punch after punch. His fist crushed the wall behind where Az's head had been. 

"Enough." The high lord's cool command was enough to make you still your weak attempts at looking at the two. Cassian's chest heaved as he tried lifting his arm to punch Az again. Pure fury in his heart was enough to make him disobey Rhysand's order.

  Then Rhys' talons gripped him. Freezing his mind, stilling him. Rhys' face shifted to surprise at what he glimpsed at there. "Oh.." He breathed. Azriel panted, backing away from his brother, out of the cell. He locked the cell and wiped the blood from himself, his wings hanging limply behind him. "What- the hell." He panted, nursing his arm. Cassian's eyes locked to your small frame. How your muscles quivered, how your arms shook with the effort of holding yourself up. He felt Rhys' claws recede slowly from his mind, releasing each part of him one by one. He rushed to you.  He picked up Azriel's sword and with a clean, masterful swipe, broke the enchanted stone that bound you. The weak sigh that came from you was heartbreaking. His eyes pricked with tears, and he caught you before you could fall to the floor into the puddle of dried blood. He didnt notice, or care that it was there. He sat there with you, cradled you and shook with you. 

"Cassian... She's.. Cassian's mate." Rhys said slowly, astonished. He didn't take his eyes from his brother in the cell. Azriel froze in place. For a moment, the dungeon was completely still. Totally silent, as if the world waited for what was to come next.

Azriel turned on a heel and left, trudging up the stairs. Rhys dared not touch his mind. "Cassian...." He spoke, trying to get his brother's attention. He did not glance at Rhys, just curled around your body more. Protecting, nesting almost. Rhys knew the feeling too well from the weeks after he and Feyre's bond snapped into place.  "We will check in tomorrow. Be safe, brother." Rhys spoke to Cassian's mind. It was nothing but an ocean of rushing thoughts. Cassian could have bared his teeth, could have tried to fight his brother through the bars of the cell. Hell, he could have probably broken through those bars with the primal strength flowing through him with the rush from the bond. 

But he didn't. He stayed, his warm body pressed against yours. Those siphons glowing against your skin like a fire. He stroked your hair soothingly, his tears like rainfall on your body, through your bloodstained clothes. He didn't remember falling asleep there, but it was the most restful, peaceful night he'd ever had in his existence. 

[happyandticklish]

Disarming Your Demons

Notes: Okay, so I’m only halfway through Jujutsu Kaisen, but I had an idea and I had to write it down. I’m not sure if I’m gonna write anything else for it until I actually finish the show, but I said that before and now this exists, so who knows really. 

Summary: Itadori discovers a new method to deal with misbehaving curses. 

Sharing a body with a thousand-year-old curse could have its downfalls, something Itadori was quickly becoming familiar with. Though he could control it most of the time, it was difficult, and took a strain on his mind and body. He put on a brave face afterwards, insisting that it was no big deal, but the truth was anything but. Sukuna’s ability to switch out with him was growing stronger, and the exhaustion was setting in faster now with each time Itadori wrestled back control over his body. In the heat of battle was one thing, edged on by desperation and the will to keep his friends alive. But it was the other times, when Itadori was tired and vulnerable and fully unprepared to battle his literal inner demons, that he regretted the lifestyle most.

Say, for instance, in his dorm room, half-asleep and dreary from a battle earlier that day.

“Hello again.”

Switching out with Sukuna was strange. He didn’t feel it in a physical sense, no pain or sensation inflicted upon him. One moment he was in his body, and the next he was trapped, a helpless bystander to the other’s will.

“You know, it’s awfully bold of those teachers of yours to leave you all alone like this at night.” Sukuna stood, stretching his arms above his head in satisfaction. “Do they really put so much stock in you to assume you’d be able to fight me, like this?”

“Sukuna.” Itadori’s voice was inaudible to anyone who might be passing by, an aimless thought floating around in his consciousness, but he knew the other could hear him nonetheless. “Give me back my body!”

“Please,” Sukuna dismissed, waving one hand as he strolled around the dorm, examining objects with a vague curiosity. “After you used me earlier? I’m growing rather tired of this dynamic, you know. Only ever summoning me when you need your friend healed, or a new big baddie rears its odious head. Then, afterwards, you hide me away without so much as a thank you.”

“I do appreciate your help,” Itadori started carefully, trying to keep his tone neutral. It was difficult though, when the other could easily read his true thoughts. “But you can’t expect me to simply hand my body over like some kind of puppet. I know what your true intentions are, and I won’t let you harm my friends or anyone else.”

“Oh, of course not, not heroic, selfless Itadori.” He placed a hand on the doorknob, twisting it and pushing the door open with one hand. “I wonder what would happen if I went to pay them a little visit now?”

“No!”

“Oh? Don’t like that, do you. Then why don’t you do something about it? Force me back, take over your body once more.” Sukuna chuckled dryly, pausing in the doorway. “If you can, that is. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the toll this is taking on you. Do you really think you have the strength to best me now, when you’re tired and weak from battle?”

Itadori tried, he really did. He knew he had to do this, but Sukuna was right. In his current state, he could hardly focus enough to remain present enough to speak to the other, let alone reclaim his physical form. With his last remaining willpower, he managed to gather enough strength to take control of one arm before he found himself blocked by the other. 

Sukuna’s eyes widened, and then he laughed, a throaty, derisive thing that made Itadori clench the fist he had. “One arm? Is that it? You truly are in for it now. I must say, I am impressed though. I didn’t think you had even that in you. Still, it’s no matter. I could end your world as you know it with both my hands tied behind my back. This pathetic defense is but a pebble in my path. I must thank you for the amusing display though—I needed a good laugh.”

Itadori watched helplessly as his body moved forward against his will, his mind racing as he tried to think of anything he could do in his position.

I needed a good laugh.

That was it!

Itadori would have smiled if he could use his mouth. An idea was formulating in his mind, crazy and nonsensical, but possibly just the thing he needed. It was a method that Gojo had employed once, to train him to focus on maintaining curse energy and resist distractions. He had no idea if the same thing would work on Sukuna, but seeing as he was in his body and therefore should be just as susceptible as Itadori had been, it just might work.

Sukuna stopped short as a jolt of sensation shot through him, and he snapped his head down to see his own hand squeezing his hip. “What the hell?”

“Ha! I didn’t think it would actually work!” Itadori’s voice rang out triumphant through the other’s mind as he squeezed again and again, quick and sudden so that Sukuna had no time to adjust to them. “Who knew that my own ticklishness would come in handy one day?”

“Tickli—what?” Sukuna started in confusion, but quickly slapped his other hand to his mouth to hold back… was that laughter?

He stumbled back against the wall, torn between shoving the other’s hands away and holding back the embarrassing noises leaking between his fingers. It was in times like these that he missed his four arms. It was hard enough to work with only two arms—one was impossible.

“W-What are you d-dohoing?” Sukuna grunted, trying to sound intimidating despite the silly grin quickly taking hold of his features.

“Tickling you, duh.” It was weird tickling his own body, and weirder still to have the sensation disconnected from him. He could feel the AC in the hallway on his arm, and the warmth of his hip under his hand, but that was all. It was disconcerting, but Itadori was grateful for it in this moment. He wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to continue if he could feel everything the other was feeling. He could only imagine how Sukuna was managing to stop himself from collapsing into an Itadori-sized puddle of laughter on the ground. “Haven’t you ever heard of tickling before?”

“I-Is that some k-kind of hihidden Jujutsu?” Sukuna snapped angrily, annoyed at the chuckle that had slipped into his words halfway through.

Laughter rang through his head, unhelpfully as Sukuna tried to hold back his own. “Dude, what? Of course not! Tickling is… well, it’s a human thing you know? When you lightly touch the human body, like this—” he scribbled his fingers up his sides suddenly—“They laugh! I’m not sure why though… science is still a bit iffy on that.”

Sukuna had stopped listening at this point. He had burst into panicked giggles the second Itadori touched his side, unprepared for the other’s change in strategy. Sukuna’s hand come down, wrapping around his wrist and pulling it up, away from his sides.

He drew in an exhausted breath, grinning in relief as he held the other firmly away from him. “There. Your… tickling, or whatever it is, is ineffectual now. Seems like you didn’t think this plan through, did you now?”

He was right. It was a temporary solution, but the truth was that Itadori was going to get nowhere with just one hand. Which was why…

Sukuna’s eyes widened as he felt a sudden pull at his person once more. His body was rebelling, and he fought back, trying to push back at Itadori’s attempt to switch back. He was getting stronger now, and Itadori was still weak, so it should be nothing to keep control from the brat. What he hadn’t expected was for Itadori to focus all his energy on reclaiming a single part of his body, leaving Sukuna unprepared for the concentrated force. He felt his fingers slipping on his wrist, his left arm losing connection just like the first one had.

“No!” Sukuna growled, but it was too late. Both arms were lost to him now, and he knew if Itadori could, he would be smirking.

“Yes,” Itadori countered. Surprisingly enough, he kept his one arm raised. He lowered the other one, poising his fingers under his arms and wiggling them in the air threateningly. “I remember this always being one of my worst spots. Unfortunately for you, I’m afraid.”

Sukuna narrowed his eyes in confusion, but before he could say anything he was stopped by the sensation of nails gently spidering under his arm. It was a slow, unhurried process, that never missed its mark. Instinct shot through him like a bullet and Sukuna attempted to bring his arm down protectively. He was stopped by the other’s remaining control of the limb, which kept it raised exposed and vulnerable over his head. It didn’t help that Itadori hadn’t worn a shirt to bed the previous night, so Itadori had full access to his bare torso.

Sukuna spluttered over a laugh, a hysterical cackling that only grew in desperation as time went on. Sparks flurried through him, his stomach erupting with what felt like millions of butterflies all taking off at the same time. It was impossible to explain how unbearable the feeling was, and Sukuna wondered how humans lived with such a weakness on their body all this time.

“A-Ahaha, stahahahap, eh, gah, stahahahap i-ihihit!” Sukuna’s head was thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut as a wild grin danced along his features. “Y-Yohohou irritahahating b-brahat!”

“Intense, right?” Itadori asked, not even trying to hide the amusement in his voice. “If only you had chosen a less ticklish vessel. You’re in for it now, though. I got to be honest, it’s kind of funny seeing a bigshot curse like you writhing around like a worm on a hook.”

“Shuhuhut uhuhuhup!” Sukuna demanded, though it came out far more giggly than he would have liked. He couldn’t concentrate like this, couldn’t even begin to start to try to reclaim his arms. He needed him to move his hand, maybe back to his hips, or somewhere else, anywhere else. He wasn’t sure if the rest of this body was less ticklish, only that he needed Itadori to move away from that spot.

“Not a chance,” Itadori scoffed. “This is way too much fun! Of course, you could always stop me. Just switch back and the tickling won’t affect you anymore; it’s that easy.”

“L-Lihihike hehehell Ihihihihi wihihihill!” He was slipping now, his body sliding down the wall in an attempt to get away. Unfortunately, you can’t run away from yourself, and those wiggling fingers followed him all the way down. “Cuhuhut ihihit ohohout wihihihith thahahat sphohohot!”

“Why?” Itadori asked innocently, loving this a bit too much for his own good. But could he really help it when he was given such a perfect oppurtunity for revenge? “Does it tickle too much for the big bad curse?”

Sukuna was going to kill him. Then, once he was sure the pest was well and truly dead, he was going to bring him back to life so he could kill him all over again. Right now, however, his focus was only on those devastating nails, light, barely-there touches that had his mind reeling. When his fingers traveled a bit too high, skittering at the top of his armpits, he finally gave in. “Yehehehes, ohohokay, ihihit tihihihickles, ohohor whahahatever y-yohou cahahalled ihihit! Sohohomewhehere ehehelse!”

“Are you sure you want me to go somewhere else?” Itadori questioned teasingly, circling the area with just one finger. Sukuna ducked his chin into his chest, unable to hold back the flood of giggles that caused. “Really sure?”

“Y-Yohohou, ahaha, yohou lihihittle—”

“Okay, okay.” Itadori moved his hand away, pulling his other arm down. Sukuna exhaled in relief, an exhausted grin still dancing on his features. Unfortunately, Itadori noticed. “Hey, don’t relax just yet. I’m not done with you. After all, you still haven’t given me back my body, have you?”

“What the hell—noHOHO!” Sukuna burst into laughter anew as his arms wrapped around himself, trapping him in a tickly hug as fingers wiggled up and down his sides. “S-SHIHIHIT!”

“Regretting your words yet?”

Sukuna thrashed wildly, howling as he doubled over in a useless attempt to protect himself. The snarky remarks were gone now, so completely was he lost to his own laughter. His skin twitched and goosebumps scattered up his sides, a helpless reaction to the playful tickling.

Because it was playful. Despite everything, he could tell that Itadori was having fun with this. And maybe, just maybe, the other was too. His insides felt warm and fuzzy in a way they hadn’t in a while, his laughter peaking between desperation and silly giggles. It was strangely addicting to give in like this, allowing the tickling to consume his thoughts and blur out any remaining negativity.

It was… nice.

“I-IIHIHITADORI!” His head was thrown back, a hearty flush spreading across his cheeks and warming his skin. “I-IHIHI CAHAHAN’T!”

“You know how to stop this,” Itadori reminded him. “Just switch back and the tickling stops.”

Sukuna fell back on the floor, unable to hold himself up against the relentless tickling. He let out a frankly embarrassing squeak, the sensations breaking through the last of his revolve. And finally, at last, he caved in.

With a start, Itadori felt the other ducking back into himself, releasing his body in the process. He stopped wiggling his fingers, sitting up slowly as he regained control of himself once more. He was sweaty and exhausted, like he’d just ran a marathon, and he could feel that familiar floating sensation in the pit of his stomach that came with being tickled.

“Damn brat,” Sukuna complained from inside him, and Itadori smiled fondly. He would have to remember this method for next time.

“What the hell?”

Itadori startled as a voice shot through his thoughts, and he glanced up to see Megumi standing in the hallway. He was still in pajamas, and his hair was sticking out in several directions. The look on his face implied he’d just woken up. The two made eye contact, Megumi taking in Itadori’s flushed features and his sprawled position on the floor.

Megumi furrowed his brows in confusion. “Itadori? I heard a noise and I thought… are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” Itadori dismissed, sitting up slowly. “I was… sleep-walking. Yeah, that’s it. Just a weird dream, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

Megumi continued to stare at him for a moment, clearly debating whether or not to believe the other. Finally, he sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “Alright. If you say so. Just keep it down next time, will you? Some of us are actually trying to sleep.”

Itadori threw the other a hearty thumbs-up, grinning innocently. “Will do!”

Megumi frowned, but eventually disappeared back into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Itadori stood up fully, his legs a little shaky from the previous tickling, and decided to do the same. It was the middle of the night after all—sleep was probably in order. However, as he turned the knob to shut the door behind him, he heard a voice loud and clear in his head.

“Sleep tonight, young sorcerer, and get your rest. Because tomorrow—” a sudden pinch to his side as Sukuna wrestled control of his hand—“it’s your turn.”

Itadori regained control almost instantly, and his hand was his again as though nothing had happened. He smiled nervously, not doubting the other’s words for a minute.

And as he got into bed that night, pulling the covers tight around himself, he found he couldn’t wait.

[queen-haq]

Fic: Alive - Part 14

Summary: Aidan traced the thin chain around his neck, rubbing the infinity pendant between his fingers. No longer a symbol of their everlasting love, it was something he touched in anger when he thought of Sage. It was the only thing of hers that still remained with him after eight years, the last possession which still connected them together. When he 4did find Sage again, and he would no matter how long it took, he planned to destroy the pendant - and her.

Taking place across two timelines, Alive tells the story of Aidan and Sage, high school sweethearts driven apart by who they are and where they come from. Once enemies then lovers, their relationship runs full circle when they meet again in the present, now prepared to destroy each other.

My Masterlist (contains links to previous parts)

Now...

Aidan rang the doorbell at the Woods residence. As he waited for someone to answer, a mixture of nostalgia and sadness materialised in the pit of his stomach. When he was younger this home had been a haven for him, an escape from the fear and dread that was always present in his own house. At one point Theo had even given him a key, and Aidan had come and gone as he pleased. Then, Sage left him. After that, this was the last place he wanted to be. Reminders of her lurked in every corner, haunting him, eliciting pain and despair.

The door opened, providing the distraction he needed from reminiscing about the past. Maria, the Woods' housekeeper for as long as Aidan could remember, greeted him with a friendly smile.

"Aidan darling, how are you?" She enveloped him in a big hug, which he returned with full enthusiasm. As expected, she began to scold him almost right away. "It's been ages since you've stopped by."

"If you weren't so busy with all your boyfriends, maybe I would visit more. You know how jealous I get when I see you with other men."

"You'll just have to accept I'm too hot for one man to handle."

His lips formed into a pout. "Ah, keep breaking my heart, why don't you?"

"I seen your picture on some gossip blog the other day." Linking her arms through his, she led him into the living room. "You had some girl with you that looked like she hadn't eaten in months. Holly something or other."

"No need to be jealous, Maria. You're the one who owns me body and soul."

"Oh, please," she scoffed.

Aidan chuckled. "Did you get the birthday present I sent you?"

"Where do you think I'm going to wear fancy earrings like that?"

"To our date, obviously." He flashed a wicked grin, knowing full well he was about to earn a disapproving stare. "Just that and nothing else."

She smacked his hand lightly. "Behave yourself, boy."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"I hope you been taking good care of yourself and not running around like a hooligan."

"I can do both."

"Hmph." Giving him a thorough look-over, she turned around. "Let me get you some cookies. I just baked a fresh batch."

"No, it's alright. I'm actually here to talk to Thomas."

"Mr. Woods," she corrected, facing him again.

Aidan smiled, this was a conversation they had exchanged many times. "Sorry. Anyway, he around?"

"In the den. He just finished dinner a while ago." She kissed him on the cheek. "Don't forget to say goodbye to me before you leave."

Aidan smiled and made his way down the hallway, pausing for a moment in front of Thomas's office. Stay calm, he reminded himself. As much as he wanted to demand an explanation for why Thomas was hell-bent on keeping him from Sage, he couldn't afford to lose his temper. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the closed door.

"Yes?"

He slipped inside, plastering on a fake smile. "Hey, Mr. Woods. Can I talk to you for a second?"

There was a surprised glint in Thomas's eyes. "Of course."

Aidan strolled in and took a seat in front of Thomas, noting how much the other man had aged recently. The last time their paths had crossed a few months ago, Thomas hadn't looked this fatigued. Stress had taken its toll on his face with dark circles evident under his eyes, his once black hair now peppered with grey.

"How've you been, Aidan?"

"Same old."

"Been in touch with the kids lately?"

"Yeah. I was with Cat last week, and I'll probably visit Theo soon."

"He speaks to you more often than he does me."

"Ungrateful brat."

Thomas smiled. "So, Aidan, what can I do for you? I know you're not here to pay me a social visit."

Aidan debated continuing their charade of camaraderie, but he was tired of playing nice. Leaning forward, he leveled Thomas with a keen stare. "Cat mentioned something interesting when I was with her."

"What would that be?"

"Apparently you've been paying the detectives I hired to give me fake info on Sage."

A thick layer of silence fell over them, the tension reaching a pitch high. Neither spoke. Aidan kept his gaze trained on the older man, taking in any nervous movements Thomas may exhibit. There were none.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Thomas finally said, breaking the silence.

"I think you're lying."

"That's unfortunate."

"Why would you want to keep me away from Sage?"

"Maybe because my daughter is better off without you," Thomas fired back, all pretense of civility dissolved between them. "Everyone always assumed she was a bad kid, but I knew she wasn't. You were the source of most of her troubles."

Aidan sneered. "Pretty convenient to claim her as your own when she's not around to need anything from you."

"I don't need to justify my actions to you."

"Maybe not, but it's about time someone called you out for your shitty parenting skills."

"And you think you're qualified to do that?" Thomas retorted. "What would you know about being a parent? You spend most of your time embroiled in bar fights."

"Which should tell you I meet a lot of assholes." Aidan lifted his eyebrow in disdain. "And I definitely know one when I see one." He flashed a smug smile.

"Get out. Now."

"You can't hide her from me forever. I will find Sage."

"Why? So you can make a mess of her life again?"

"I cared about her more than you ever did."

"Obviously she didn't feel the same way or she would have contacted you by now."

As much as Aidan wanted to wipe that condescending look from Thomas's face, there was no denying the truth. If Sage gave a damn about him, she would never have abandoned him, but she had – after repeatedly lying about her feelings until he'd truly started to believe she genuinely loved him.

"Get out," Thomas threatened. "Or I'll have the cops escort you out."

"Oh, good. They love me over at the station." Thomas didn't react to his sarcastic words, instead continuing to glower at him. "You look like you're about to have a heart attack. I'd hate for that to ruin Theo's day." He stood up, saluted Thomas with a flippant smile, and sauntered to the door. Before leaving, he turned to look at Thomas one last time. "I'll let Sage know you said hi." Aidan walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Maria was waiting for him in the hallway, her face covered in anger. "What is wrong with you, boy? Why would you talk to Mr. Woods like that?"

Irritation surged through him, but he curbed his tongue.

"You need to treat him with respect. And why you still looking for that girl? All she's ever done is bring trouble to this family. Things were great between Mr. And Mrs. Woods before she came along."

"How great could it be if a sixteen-year-old girl was able to ruin it?" Aidan snapped.

"Don't speak to me in that tone."

"Fine, I won't. As long as you remember Thomas isn't perfect. He's the one who fucked around, had a kid, and then treated her like a charity case instead of taking responsibility for her."

"You need to leave. And don't come back until you've learned some respect."

"It's too bad you drank the kool-aid, Maria. I always thought you were smarter than that."

He walked out of the house with long strides, determined to get away from all these hypocrites. Even after all this time, it still burned him up to hear people disparage Sage. She was the scapegoat for the Woods family, with everyone finding it easy to blame the bastard daughter rather than analyse their own actions. And the fact that Sage hadn't been meek or docile but a fighter who refused to take any of their shit lying down had only aggravated them further.

It had been the same way in high school. It was Sage who was bullied repeatedly for being new, for being Muslim, for being the fucking antichrist as far as everyone was concerned, and when she retaliated the authorities blamed her instead of investigating the truth.

While he understood why Sage ran from all these assholes, what he couldn't comprehend was her running from him. Throughout their relationship she had always maintained they were best friends, each other's support system, and they'd always have one another's back – but it had all been lies.

Despite his trust issues he'd fallen in love with her, and she'd deceived him in return. For that he could never forgive her, and she would pay.

*****

Then...

While Sage was pulling out her history textbook from the locker, someone's fingers grazed her back. By the time she turned around Aidan had already walked past her to join his buddies at the opposite end of the hallway. She observed him for several minutes, watching while he goofed around with his friends. Sadness rippled through her. Never could she hang out with Aidan in school, sit together at lunch, or hold hands like a normal couple – not as long as Cat and her minions were around. They made her life a living hell as it was, doling out hateful, racist comments that were slowly chipping away at her confidence; Sage didn't even want to consider how much worse their behaviour would get if they discovered the truth.

"Fantasising about torturing Aidan?" David teased, joining her.

A part of her felt guilty for lying but she played along anyway. "How did you know?"

"Pretty obvious. If looks could kill, he'd be dead right about now."

Sage quirked her eyebrow. "Killer glare would be an awesome superpower to have, don't you think?"

"Totally." David turned to her. "So is Aidan still giving you a hard time?"

"You know what they say. Once a jackass, always a jackass."

"Yes, but what a pretty jackass he is."

She rolled her eyes at David's breathless tone. "Come on, fanboy. We have to get to class."

"I know."

Heading towards their classroom, they turned the corner to find Cat and the rest of her clique standing a few feet away from the entrance. Sage stiffened at the sight of them. When Cat noticed her, she whispered something to her friends and they all broke out into laughter – except for Tish.

It had been a few weeks since their fight, and today was the first time Tish had shown up in school. Her face was still swollen from the nose surgery. She glared at Sage with contempt in her eyes but that wasn't the only emotion emanating from them. There was also fear.

"Come on, don't pay attention to them," David said.

"Don't worry." Determined not to let them get to her, Sage held her head high and walked past Cat and her friends. Of course they snickered louder, calling her nasty names. She ignored them but couldn't help noticing Tish hadn't engaged in the rest of the group's antics. Why was Tish not being her usual vicious self? Was she really that scared? A part of Sage was glad for it; however, guilt flowed through her almost right away. She didn't like eliciting fear in others, not even Tish; the thought of it made her stomach churn.

Sage gave herself a mental shake, reminding herself this was all temporary. Tish didn't matter, neither did Cat. In a few months she would graduate and finally be free. Free to make her escape from Thomas and the rest of his family, and free to be with Aidan without any fear of repercussions. Until then she simply had to curb her temper and stay out of trouble.

*****

Later that afternoon Sage pushed the door open to the girl's bathroom door, wondering if Aidan was already here. Not many people used this bathroom as it was located on the third floor, near the teacher's lounge. As soon as she stepped inside a pair of arms encircled her from behind, startling her.

"Hey," Aidan whispered in her ear, stippling the back of her neck with kisses.

She grinned. "Hi."

"So you did get it. I wasn't sure when you didn't text me back."

"Text? What text? I'm only here because I felt like going for a stroll." They sauntered forward until she was leaning against the counter with his body pressed tightly behind hers. She met his eyes in the mirror, smiling softly as he dropped a kiss on her shoulder. His fingers slowly and expertly made their way to the buttons on her top, undoing them. "Nice touch with the out of service sign."

"I know." He beamed proudly. "No one will interrupt us now."

"Interrupt what exactly?" Turning around, she looped her arms around his neck. "I'm here to talk, nothing else."

A shadow of a smile played across his lips. "Liar." He trailed wet kisses along her jawline while his hands remained busy unbuttoning her shirt. "You don't want to talk."

"So why did I come?"

"You haven't yet."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "Proud of that one, aren't you?"

"Not really. You walked right into it."

Watching him while he knelt in front of her, his lips lingering on her chest and tongue stroking her skin, his hands doing things that were slowly starting to drive her wild, she laced her fingers through his hair and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. "Aidan," she half-groaned, half-murmured, heat unfurling throughout her body like wildfire. She pulled up his sweater from the back, splayed her fingers across his skin. He felt hot, ready; she ached to feel him inside her.

He picked her up suddenly, placed her on the edge of the counter. She circled her legs around the back of his thighs and simultaneously reached for his zipper when he pulled his lips away. Cradling her face in his hands, he peered at her, his golden gaze shining with dark intensity. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I have something for you."

She raised her eyebrow. "Is this something in your pants?"

"Yes, pervert." He grinned. "But it's not what you think."

"What is it?"

He pulled out a small jewelry box from the back pocket of his jeans. There was a strange glint in his eyes which aroused her curiosity further. "I hope this isn't an engagement ring," she teased, reaching for the box. "I want to be able to get into a club without a fake ID before I get hitched."

"Shut up and open it."

Inside the box lay a necklace which bore a striking resemblance to the one Tish had stolen from her. Sage realised almost instantly it wasn't a replica, like the one Thomas had bought to bribe her, but the actual necklace Layal had owned – the broken link was still held together by a small safety pin. She picked it up, stared at it for several seconds, trying to wrap her mind around it. "This is my mom's. The one Tish took."

"I know."

"How did you get it from her?" He hesitated to answer; the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach worsened. "Aidan, how did you get this?"

His jaw clenched with agitation and he took a step back. "What difference does it make?"

"What did you do?"

"You really want to know?"

"I'm asking, aren't I?"

"I paid someone to hack into her phone, found some stuff she doesn't want anyone to see."

"What kind of stuff?"

Aidan locked eyes with her again but there seemed to be no trace of the boy she loved at that very moment. Instead he was cold and menacing – a stranger. "Videos of her fucking most of the football team. Nudes. Amateur porn collection of her own work. Unfortunately, not as hot as it sounds."

"And you threatened to show it to people if she didn't give you my chain back?"

He stepped forward, his eyes boring into hers. "I promised her it would go viral if she didn't."

Oh God. She felt sick. No wonder Tish had seemed so afraid of her. "How could you do that, Aidan?"

Taken aback by her words, his gaze turned steely. "Do what? Find a way to give you back your mom's necklace? You were miserable! I watched you cry over it for days and it tore me up on the inside. And that bitch hurt you. She broke your finger, remember that?" His eyes brimmed with frustration and he paced back and forth in front of her. "She took something from you that you loved. She's been a fucking bitch to you! I wasn't going to let her get away with it."

"This is wrong, Aidan."

"Fuck you!" He levelled her with a hostile stare. "Don't pretend to be some kind of saint – you're not! I know you. You're a fighter. Like me. You don't just take shit from others. You always fight back."

Fine, he was right about her – about them – but this was different. It was wrong, very, very wrong, and she felt it with every fibre of her being. Unable to look at him any further, she averted her eyes away from him.

"You're all I've got, Sage, and I won't let anyone hurt you. I'll protect you no matter what. Even if it makes you hate me."

"I don't hate you."

"That's hard to believe when you won't even look at me."

The anguish in his voice broke her heart but she remained silent. Truth was this angry, cold, hateful facade of his terrified her. She'd been exposed to this side of him in the beginning; although, since then, he'd always been sweet and wonderful with her. That darkness, however, was still there and lurking inside him, and now that it had made a reappearance she had no idea what to do.

The air was thick with tension. He was waiting for her to say something, anything, to assure him things between them were okay. Few seconds later, when she still hadn't spoken a word, he walked out.

To be continued...

Tagging @bustlingcrowdsxorxsilentsleepers​ and @idaofinfinity​

[goodlucksnez]

All//might & Ai//zawa snz fic

So after reading the latest manga chapter where all//might is standing in the rain for a long time I was like “ummm what if he got sick” so I wrote this

also poni really wanted to read this so i would have written more but its okay maybe another time

WARNING FUCKING ANGST BUT ALSO CUTE

Enjoy 2100 words of y//agi//ai//zawa

“Shouta I’m back.” The lanky former symbol of piece said as he entered the small apartment of the underground hero. As he looked around at the dimly lit interior, he could not help but shudder as the cool air chilled his wet clothes from the rainstorm, he just found himself in. Now that he was retired, he had many hours on his hands and he had spent that time doing all he could in the war against the villains.

This last journey, he found himself back to the site of the battle of his successor and class 1A intending to check on the anti-hero supporters who refused to evacuate. It was raining, and the blonde was slowly getting drenched. However, the cold and numbness that normally came with the rain didn’t seem to bother him anymore, as if all of the feeling had drained from his body and he was left a void. As he looked around at the broken buildings and cobblestone of the street laid before him where the previous battle was held, he couldn’t help but see his statue. He remembered that statue…his signature phrase “I am here” engraved on the bottom in granite stone. He remembered meeting with the sculptor and posing for what seemed like hours.

‘Such a long time ago’ he thought to himself.

The smile that was carved into the stone was so perfect, however as he looked at the wide grin, he felt like he was looking in a fun house mirror. The man he saw portrayed in this stone wasn’t him. He vowed to make the world a better place but now that he reached his end, he saw he failed. The world has turned out even more broken after his retirement and he was unable to protect the one student he promised he would. He felt that he’s gone further away than heroism than anyone else. As tears slowly started to cloud his vision he blinked and saw a cardboard sign held up by a thin piece of rope around the statues neck written on it in red spray paint was “I am not here”. As a shudder passed through his body he was brought back to the current reality. He stepped inside leaving a trail of waterlogged foot prints as he made his way to the kitchen. On the cool stonework countertops, he found a yellow sticky note as he began to read the note, scribbled in messy handwriting, he heard the familiar click of the lock as he turned to face the entryway. He saw the familiar black hair of his partner. As he watched Shouta shook out the umbrella that he had in his hand he spoke up.

“I was just about to read your note.”

The underground hero jumped at the sudden noise and as his piercing eyes fixated on the source of the sound he quickly relaxed when he saw the gentle smile of the former Pro. As he stepped inside and put his key in the bowl, it echoed in the quiet hallway. Shouta then motioned to the multiple bags he was holding.

“Don’t think we want to eat Ramen for the rest of our lives do we? Might be a good idea to get some real food.” he said as he continues to carry them into the kitchen and put them down on the counter.

As he put the bags down, he looked over at the wisp of the man standing before him. His diminished stature had taken a toll on his health. Tired eyes sat in sunken-in-sockets. His normally vibrant school bus yellow hair had turned to a grayish yellow mustard color and even though he would never admit it, he saw the clump of hair in the trashcan every morning. He was dying. It was an unspoken truth in their relationship but the underground hero would do anything to make sure he was happy and healthy in the final years of his life. He deserved that after all didn’t, he?

As he began emptying the bags onto the counter, he couldn’t help but notice the puddle of water that seem to be growing larger under the thin man, however Yagi continue to shiver and shake too preoccupied reading a can of tuna. As Shouta reached for the can, he met the eyes and said in a gravelly voice.

“You should change out of those clothes don’t want you catching a cold now do we?”

The former pro simply smiled although it was hard to fully sell it as he turned his head and coughed violently into his soaking arm sleeve. Immediately Shouta furrowed his brow and when he met the gaze of him again, he was quickly put in his place.

“Shouta how many times do I have to tell you, my health isn’t a concern of mine…it’s an undeniable fact, besides you don’t actually get sick from the rain.”

Shouta quickly interjected. “No but you could get hypothermia,” he began to plead “come on will you change out of those clothes…for me.”

As the older man sighed there was a clear rasp in his voice before he nodded quietly and turned to leave, his shoes squeaking on the tile floor as he left the kitchen.

After all the food was put away Shouta turned on the tea kettle to warm some water knowing full well that even with the warmest clothes Yagi could never be warm. As he walked slowly down the hall passing the bathroom and the study, he found himself at the door of their bedroom. He could hear fabric rustling but before he could enter another sound echoed throughout the house.

“hih'TSS-heh!”

A harsh sneeze echoed in the still apartment. ‘Even in his weakened state his sneeze is powerful’ Shouta thought to himself as he pushed on the door letting it slowly swing open. The image before him would startle anyone who knew All Might in his prime. The man had an oversized baggy red wool sweater in his hands. His silhouette illuminated by the ceiling light above seemed sickly and weak. The scar near his appendix which had a spider like web pattern that spread through his torso, as if venom was slowly poisoning his body was in full view. Yagi was bent at the waist and as he brought his other hand up to wipe that his nose Shouta could see small irritation tears had sprung to his eyes.

Shouta took a few steps forward and whispered a quiet bless you, a phrase his dear friend Mic had told him before his departure from this world.

Yagi quickly regained his posture and a slight blush crept into his sickly skin. He muttered a quick thank you before bunching up the wool sweater in a vain attempt to put it on. Shouta reached out his hands and slowly grasped the fabric and as the blonde bent forward, he quickly but diligently guided his his head through the hole in the sweater followed by both his arms.

Once the sweater was on the frail man’s body, he went to the nightstand which was stacked high with different medicines as well as vitamins and other health supplies and grabbed a travel pack size of tissues, before handing one to his partner.

In a voice gravelly but still soft and concerned he asked. “Did you catch a cold?”

All Might sighed his breathe with a distant wheeze could be heard, simply shook his head in agreement before sitting down on the chest at the end of the bed. He then put his head in his hands. ‘Why am I like this, he thought to himself ‘I have someone who generally cares about me and yet I hide, I know I failed as a hero but I have a failed him as a partner as well?’ He quickly turned his head to the side as a fearsome tickle demanded his attention.

ESH!... AhhhttTZZschhuw!...iyy-ih-ESH!"

The sneezes rack through his body leaving him panting slightly. As his lung struggled to breathe, he sniffed at the thick congestion and wiped his nose on the tissue that Shouta and handed him minutes before. As he looked up, he was surprised to find the room in front of him was oddly empty he called out in the voice louder than he intended.

“Sho where have you gone?”

A reply quickly followed “I’m making your favorite soup lay down in the bed will you…also bless you.”

He followed the order he was given and as he climbed into the black satin bed, he couldn’t help but shiver as his body demanded more heat. He found that he was always cold these days, no matter how much he bundled up. It was as if no heat could be retained in this frail body that he now called home. Within minutes Shouta entered the room but to his surprise with an assortment of things. He had a tray, one you would see in an old movie where the wife would dot on his husband, it was decorated in a sheer white tablecloth decorated with pink flowers. It had a bowl of a steaming liquid as well as two mugs and a vase full of sunflowers. As there are sickly sweet smell drifted in the room and Yagi couldn’t help but smile.

“You remembered, my favorite flowers.” He said with a voice thick with congestion. As Shouta sat the tray down over Yagi’s lap and climbed onto the bed, he smiled a slight blush sprung to his cheeks before he spoke.

“You told me a long time ago that you admired sunflowers for their optimism. You said it’s a form of gratitude because it honors the gift of life, always growing towards that bright sun,” his voice cracked as he spoke again “you told me that it turns its head to face the rising sun in the east and it follows the path across the sky throughout the day…. it’s that determination that you admired and that’s what I admire about you…even when you are being stupid.”

The two sat in silence for a few moments before the dull blonde turned to the side and harshly sneezed a triple.

“H-hhdihtt! Hhdddtschhhuww!!...hUDD’tschhuuuw!!”

 Shouta quickly handed him a tissue and began spooning the hot liquid onto the spoon he had brought.

“Open up Sunlight.” The blonde chuckled. “I’m not a child Sho I can feed myself.”

He replied “I know but I promised to take care of you, so just let me do this.”

“Very well” Yagi said as Shouta began to spoon feed the hot liquid into his mouth. The soup was warm and comforting, a hint chicken as well as carrots and other vegetables immediately filled the blonde’s mouth. It was delicious and he quickly swallowed as Shouta filled the spoon once more. But as he drew the steaming liquid closer to the blondes face the steam irritated his nose and he found himself pinching forward.

Hhdddtschhhuww!

As he sneezed, he hit his head on the spoon causing the spoon to fall and land in the soup creating a splash and slightly scolding the skin of both of the pros. Yagi would’ve laughed himself if he wasn’t preoccupied continuing to sneeze.

“N’doe…hHHT! hhnnkkKSCCHHhhuw!! ESHHHUHhhh!! Can hhtt-hhHHh! Hiitt’usszhhuh!! Sto hh-h stop hHHh! Hiitt’usszhhuh!! ESHHHUHhhh!!

Shouta quickly slid the tray to the side table and gently straddled the former symbol of peace. As the blonde continue to sneeze Shouta commanded for him to lift his head. As Yagi did, Shouta pressed hard against the cupid bow of his upper lip and almost immediately then sensation of needing to sneeze dissipated and Yagi breathed a sigh of relief. As he sniffed, he opened his watery eyes to look at a Shouta whose face was determined.

He asked while sniffling back congestion “snf snff ugh what are you doing?”

Shouta smirked before replying “I’ve learned a few things in my day, such as there are certain pressure points in the face that aid in congestion for example.” As he moved his hands to the sunken in cheekbones of the thin man and Yagi, he could feel his sinuses drain and his sighed in relief again.

“Thank you” Yagi basically moaned as the underground hero retracted his hands.

“I’m afraid it won’t last, but for the moment you will stop sneezing which is an improvement on your health…also bless you like 15 times I think.” Shouta said with chuckle “Now how about we both lay down and head to bed.”

Yagi smiled and replied “I love that idea as much as I love you.”

FIN

[ah-ga-seven]

Till’ The End of Summer - Chapter 9

<< series masterlist >>

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 11,5K

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of a broken family, abusive parents, conflict and death.

Yeonjun followed his mom inside of the house he used to call home before he left for college. The familiar scent of amber and vanilla welcomed him as he stepped inside.  

The heels of his shoes made a loud ticking noise on the luxurious black marble tiled floor with each step he took. The place hadn’t changed much. The only thing different being the flower arrangements and the emptiness of the massive Villa.  

It used to be way more lively in here. There were always all sorts of visitors in the house, if it was staff, family members, or friends of his dad’s; there was never a quiet moment during the day, which made the silence even more confronting and saddening.  

He sighed putting his bag down, stretching his aching body as a result of the long drive.

“Your room is exactly how you left it.” His mom says timidly. “I guess somehow I wished you’d return home someday so I didn’t have the heart to change anything about it.”

Yeonjun looks at his mother a little puzzled. All of the emotional confessions are taking a toll on him and he isn’t quite sure what he should be saying to her.

Just as the silence was starting to get awkward, they get interrupted.

“Yeonjun? Is that you?” a voice sounds from across the hall.

Yeonjun’s ears perk up and as he makes eye contact with her, his lips curl up into a loving smile.

“Yes, Lita imo, it’s me…” he says shyly as he let the older woman hug him tightly. Lita is the head housekeeper who has been working for the family since Yeonjun could walk.

She’s the one who packed his lunches and sat with him at the dinner table when his parents were too busy working. The only person he truly missed from the household was her. So, seeing her again after all this time made his heart swell.

He just wishes the circumstances were a little different.  

She sighed as she held him at arms-length and studied him for a second. “Did you grow even more? When does it stop? You’re getting scary tall. And where did your baby cheeks go huh?” she says pinching his cheek, making sure to baby him like she used to.  

“Ah-ah-ah” he whines as she let go of his cheek. They were beaming at each other and his mother noticed. A faint smile also on her face as she watched their dynamic.

She never really noticed how close they were until now.  

“I’ll go make your bed. You must be tired from the trip.” Lita says, patting his shoulder before she makes her way up the stairs and into his old bedroom.

Yeonjun watched her go up with a small smile and sighed contently.

He followed his mother into the formal living room and sat down on the couch, letting his fingers graze over the velvety material.

“So…where is he?” he asks looking at his mom.

“He’s in the hospital.”

“Do we go…tonight?” He asks, uncertainty evident in his tone of voice.

“Yes, but let’s have some dinner first alright? I told Lita to make your favourite.”

“I can’t believe you stole the tournament bus,” Taehyun says clicking his tongue.

“It’s not stealing if I have a key.” Soobin argues back. “Besides how else were we all going to fit in the same car.”

The small bus had space for exactly 7 people, so you were glad it was even an option. Soobin being the team captain and all had its perks. He has keys to almost every facility and even the fucking school building.  

“I hope this little stunt doesn’t get me suspended,” he says nervously biting his lip.

“No one will notice it’s missing hyung, it’s summer break.” Hueningkai retorts as he leans forward to pat Soobin on the back. Hueningkai was seated next to Taehyun in the middle row, while you and Beomgyu cozied up together in the back seats as Mia assisted Soobin with navigating in the front seat.

If the situation was any different, this could have accounted for a fun road trip with your friends, but the reality of things was a lot more somber.  

“No, baby no! It’s a left here.” Mia panics as Soobin misses the exit.

“You said the next one!” he whines, slightly raising his voice.

“This is the next one!”  

“Ugh, great. That at least an hour detour,” Taehyun states yanking the phone from Mia’s grip to inspect the route.

“Don’t get annoyed with each other already, we’ve been driving for only an hour,” you say interrupting the couples’ arguing.  

Everyone was tense. None of you knew what the fuck you were even driving towards, where you would stay, what you would do when you’d see him.  It was a permanent decision made on temporary feelings and you were anxious, to say the least, and given everyone’s attitudes, so were they.  

“Well originally it was only 5 more hours, but thanks to someone it turned into 6.” Soobin says, which made Mia glare at him venomously.  

“We’ll be lucky if we arrive before midnight with breaks included.” Taehyun states calculating quickly as he passes the phone back to Mia.

Beomgyu was asleep with his head on your shoulder, ignoring all the banter. You envied his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time and sighed as you fixed a piece of his hair.

“It’s not the end of the world guys.” Hueningkai says calming them down. “I know we’re all nervous and every second counts, but we don’t even have a plan for when we get there,”  

“The plan is to be there for him.” Soobin says tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

“No matter what.”

Yeonjun stood frozen on his feet with his hand on the doorknob to his fathers’ private hospital suite. The amount of security he had to go through was of insane proportions. If his mom wasn’t there to confirm that his dad indeed had a son, he was sure he wouldn’t even be able to enter on his own.

He let go of the knob and inhaled sharply before turning around to face his mother.

“I can’t do this,” he says with a shaky voice while his enlarged pupils dart to his mothers’ equally dark ones.

“Do you want me to go with you?” She asked putting a comforting hand on his shoulder as her brows furrow in concern.

Yeonjun thinks about it for a second but shakes his head in reply.  

If he’s gonna do it, he’ll do it by himself. Though the presence of his friends would have helped, that wasn’t an option.

“I’ll be right here if you need me.” His mother assures, and for some reason, that small sentence of encouragement was all he needed. Hell, it was the most encouragement he’s gotten from his mom his entire life, so he took it with both hands.

He nodded to himself, his demeanor shifting to a much more confident one as the look in his eyes changed while twisting the doorknob.

He peaked his head through, knocking on the door softly. The view of his father was blocked by the figure of a nurse but as she turned to look at who was at the door, his father was in full view.

His mom was right, his condition was bad.

The once so powerful and unbreakable businessman Daniel Choi looked everything but those things.

He had lost a lot of weight, his cheeks sunken, hair gray. His lips were chapped and dry, as was his skin. All in all, he looked sick, and far more dead than alive.

Yeonjun’s eyes widened at the sight. There was no way that Yeonjun wanted to show empathy towards the man but somehow, he felt bad for him.  

“Yeonjun, right?” the nurse says as she smiles at Yeonjun warmly.

He just nods in response and notices how his dad has only been staring at the wall in front of him, not responding to anything that was going on.

Yeonjun closes the door behind him and walks towards the nurse, keeping his eyes on his dad.

“He’s sedated to cope with the pain. He can hear you and see you. He responds if you get close enough, though it might take some time for him to process what is going on around him.”

Yeonjun nervously bit his lip, the sudden wave of emotions he was feeling becoming too much for him. He didn’t anticipate this, he thought he could have at least had one last normal conversation with him.

“Does he even remember me?” Is the first thing he says, the sound of his voice made Daniel’s head snap into Yeonjun’s direction and it startled Yeonjun.

His father’s fingers started to twitch in response. His movement became more demanding and the nurse immediately went over to him to calm him down.

“All he’s been asking for the past few weeks is you, Yeonjun. I think he’s surprised to see you too,” she says as she gives your dad a slight smile, patting his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

All Daniel was looking at was Yeonjun. He kept trying to lift his hand to motion to Yeonjun that he should come closer, but the message wasn’t quite clear.

Yeonjun didn’t know what to do, he stood awkwardly frozen in place as he watched his dad become more and more restless.

“Do I need to leave?” He asked a little distressed.

“No, I actually think he wants you to come closer, it’s okay. You can sit next to him on the stool. He’ll appreciate it,” she says holding out her hand as she motions for him to approach.

He took a deep breath and looked his father in the eye once more as he walked towards the bed.  

His dad seemed to calm down as Yeonjun sat down beside him. His eyes scanning his son's face. He was able to grab Yeonjun’s hand, which surprised him, but he didn’t have the heart to pull away.

“I’ll give you two some space, if anything happens; press that button above his bed” the nurse says pointing toward the rectangular looking remote.

Yeonjun nodded, giving her a last look as she walked out. When the door closed behind her, he averted his attention back to his father. Sighing loudly as he looked at their intertwined fingers.

“You must really be out of your mind if you’re voluntarily holding my hand.” Yeonjun thinks out loud, speaking under his breath as he stares at their hands.

He felt tears prickle his eyes. His bottom lip trembling as the first tear escapes his eye.

He felt his father squeeze his hand, which made him look up at him.

“I really do hate you.” Yeonjun says in between sobs. “I do. I hate you.”

His father just looked at him, blinking a couple of times to show that he understands.

“So why the fuck am I even crying,” he huffs. This is a rhetorical question of course. He knows exactly why he’s crying. He’s crying because he’s powerless.

Yeonjun tears turned into frustration as he yanks his hand from his dad’s grasp. Angrily wiping his tears away as he collects himself.  

“You can hear everything right?”  

No response.

“Can you blink once for yes and twice for No.”  

One blink.

Yeonjun sniffed nodding to himself as he organizes his thoughts. “Ok. So, we can communicate,” he thinks out loud.

His confidence returned, he rolls his shoulders back and places his hands on his thighs as he straightens out his posture.

“Why did you want me here?” Yeonjun asks getting straight to the point.

Daniel cocked his head to the side to show confusion, but his fathers’ confusion to the question only confused Yeonjun more.

“You wouldn’t tell mom why you wanted to see me. So why did you.”

His father tried to speak, but it was to no avail as he gave up quickly. Sighing in frustration at the fact that he couldn’t form words.

“Right, that’s not a yes or no question.” Yeonjun realizes, crossing his legs as he buries his face in his hands, lightly massaging his own scalp to release the tension in his brain.

After a few seconds he looks up, catching his dad staring at him intensely. Yeonjun uncomfortably shifted in his seat, noticing how his dad was getting more restless as he tried his best to form words.

“T-t-table.”

Yeonjun’s mouth fell agape to the sound of his dad's voice. “The table? Which table?” he asks getting up. Looking around frantically to catch any clues to what his dad is trying to tell him.

He followed his fathers’ gaze and quickly walked towards the expensive-looking mahogany table in the left corner of the room.

His eyes fall on an envelope with his name on it. His fingers ghost over the paper material, scanning it thoroughly as he picks it up.

He looks back at his dad who was still staring back at him. Yeonjun nodded. Taking the envelope with him as he sat back down on the stool.

“You want me to read this?” he asks, which earned one clear blink.

“Alright.” Yeonjun sighs as he opens the letter.  

“To Yeonjun.” he reads aloud.  

I don’t know whether or not you will read this when I’m dead or alive, but that’s not the point. After you’ve read this, make sure no one else does.

Even if you think I didn’t show interest in your life, I watched your every move. I know about your schoolwork, your team, your friends, the girl you like. I know it all.  

I’ve had people watch you for me ever since I found out I was dying. Which has been years now. I made them write me reports on your character, your skills, and the way people perceive you and I have to say, I was surprised, to say the least.  

You have proven yourself to be a leader rather than a follower. You are passionate, hard-working, smart and competent and will do literally anything to fight for your goals.

The only reason you are all of these things is because you had to work for it. You were never emotionally cradled as a child and from an early age you were aware that success is something you don’t just gain without a bead of sweat

You have seen the world at its darkest before you could feel what true happiness is, and that was not done unintentionally.

Your upbringing might have been tough. But it’s what you needed to become the ruthless and determined person that you are today.  

That same ruthlessness and determination are what Choi Enterprises needs. Which brings me to the point of this letter.

There is no other person on the planet that I entrust with the future of Choi Enterprises other than you.

I don’t trust your mother and therefore I cannot let the company fall into the hands of your mother and her cunning family.  

For your entire life, all I did was make sure you were ready for this moment. And even though it came earlier than anticipated, If you sign the attached documents. It’s all yours effective immediately.  

Power comes with a price that I was willing to pay.  

And I hope that you will too.

-  Daniel Choi.  

Yeonjun blinks a couple of times to let it all register to him. He lifts his head from the paper and looks at his father's hopeful expression.

“You spied on me.” he says in disbelief.

“You spied on me, but you couldn’t send me a birthday card?”  It was a figure of speech, though his dad got what he meant.

Anger filled Yeonjun’s senses. The audacity this took from his father is on another level of crazy.

He got up, kicking the stool he sat on aggressively, making it fall to the floor with a loud thud.

His dad didn’t even flinch. He just kept staring at Yeonjun with the same look from before.

“Tell me.”

Yeonjun says as he inches his face closer to his father.

“Do you regret it?”

Daniel cocked his head to the side in confusion and waited for Yeonjun to continue.

“Do you regret being an abusive piece of shit? The whole, you needed to live through it to become strong shit isn’t cutting it for me. Do you regret it? Yes or No.”

Yeonjun was seething. He was inches away from his dad, fists balled, wrinkling the letter and attached documents in his left hand as a result of his strength as he anticipated his fathers’ answer.

The look in Daniel’s eyes went cold followed by two blinks.

“No.” Yeonjun scoffs. “Of course, you don’t.”  

Yeonjun took a step back, clearing his throat as he swallowed his anger with it.

“Well in that case…” he says inspecting the papers in his hands. He held it in front of his line of sight, making sure his dad can see what he’s about to do.

He held on to each side of the pile of papers, ripping it in half slowly.  

“Take that contract to your fucking grave.” He spits as he throws it into the nearest trash can.  

His dad started to panic, convulsing aggressively in his bed. Gulping for air as he tried his best to move and speak at the same time.

Yeonjun pressed the distress button and stormed out of the room, not bidding his dad another look.  

He slammed the door behind him, startling his mother who was waiting for him in the hall.

“Yeonjun!” she yelled after him. She quickly looked back to the room her husband was in, shocked with the sight of multiple nurses trying to hold him down.

She didn’t hesitate to run after Yeonjun, catching him in the hallway.

“Yeonjun wait a second!”  

He halted his long strides, breathing heavily as he turned around on his heels.

“What happened in there?” his mother asks wide-eyed as she lays a hand on his shoulder in order to calm him down.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says clenching his jaw, shaking his mothers hand off of his shoulder.

“Okay…whenever you’re ready.” she tries carefully, trying not to tick him off any further.  

“Let’s go home. You’ve been through enough today.”  

“Hyung are you sure you put in the right address?” Hueningkai asks wide-eyed as he got out of the van first.

“This can’t be it,” Taehyun says with his mouth agape.  “This isn’t even considered a house. It looks like a damn palace.”  

“I knew Yeonjun’s family was loaded but this…” Mia remarks.

You get out of the car, your mouth going dry as you look at the biggest house you’ve seen in your life. It was modern, yet rustic. The home had huge windows and white pillars and there was a huge stone staircase that lead up to the front door.

“How many bathrooms do you think they have?” Beomgyu gulps, his eyes darting from one side of the house to the other.

“Really? That’s what’s important right now?” Taehyun argues

“I’m just curious,” Beomgyu says rolling his eyes.

“Well..let’s….knock?” Soobin says with uncertainty peeking through his voice.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves as you didn’t know what you would walk into. You weren’t sure how Yeonjun would feel to see you again or to see any of you right now. You had hoped the 6 turned 7-hour drive wasn’t for nothing, and that you could talk to Yeonjun with a clear mind.

Soobin took the lead with the rest of you trailing behind him. He sighed looking back at you guys before he built up the courage to ring the doorbell.

All of you were dead silent, anticipating for the door to be opened.

After a few more seconds, the large double doors open automatically, with a timid rather small lady standing in the doorway with an equally confused expression on her face to match yours.

That can’t be his mother? Right? They look nothing alike.

“Ehm…can I help you? It’s close to midnight? You do realize this is private property?” Lita says looking at the group with suspicion.

“Ehm, Hi mam, my name is Soobin, these are my friends…well…Yeonjun’s friends. We kind of…followed him here.” Soobin stammers incoherently. “But with good intent! We just…want to be there for him because…well…we think he’s having a hard time and-“

“Soobin.” You say shutting him up. “I think she gets it.”

Yeonjun heard multiple voices at the front door and came down the stairs out of curiosity. As he turns the corner, seeing a raven-haired tall figure at the front. He knew exactly who it was.

His eyes widened as his pace quickened, walking towards the voices a little faster.

You saw Yeonjun emerge from behind the lady, and when his eyes landed on all of you, he stood frozen on his feet next to her. The first one he made eye contact with is you.

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds before the smaller lady interrupted the moment.

“Yeonjun, do you know these people?” She asks with a much kinder tone as she speaks to him.

“Y-yes, these are my friends,” Yeonjun says breaking eye contact with you, looking at the rest.

“How did you find out where I lived?”

“Y/n found out actually…there was a box in your room with the address on it…under your bed,” Mia says jumping in.

Yeonjuns eyes landed on you once again, giving you a small smile which you reciprocated, not knowing what else to do.  

“Hyung, if you don’t want us here, I’m so sorry. But the way you left, we were worried and-”

Soobin couldn’t finish his sentence before Yeonjun pulled him towards him with a hard pull. The two hugged for a few seconds before Yeonjun let go, putting his hand on Soobin's shoulder as he looked at all of you with pure affection.

“I can’t believe you came all the way here…I don’t know what to say,” he says scratching the back of his head, still a little lost for words.

“How about, come in. It’s freezing.” Beomgyu says giving the older one a bitter smile as he chatters his teeth dramatically to show that he was cold.

Yeonjun chuckled, stepping aside so all of you could enter. And so, you did.  

All of your jaws dropped at the interior and detail that went into the decoration of the place. The hall was huge and connected all of the separate rooms and wings together. Apart from the dark tiled floors, the colour scheme was light. Different shades of whites and nudes made up the interior. It was stylish, yet classic at the same time, with pops of colours from different flowers in huge vases.

“Do I need to prepare the guest rooms?” Lita asks a little flustered at the sudden appearance of 6 more guests.  

Ah…so she’s the housekeeper, you think to yourself as you snap back to reality.

Mia nudged you, mouthing a subtle ‘Marry him’ to you, which you roll your eyes at.

“Uhm, yes. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Lita.” Yeonjun says bidding her a quick nod as Lita walks off quickly.

Yeonjun’s attention focused on all of you again, and Hueningkai barged his way through, ready to hug Yeonjun tightly.  

“Hyung, are you okay? What happened?” he asks as he rubbed the older one’s belly while he still clung onto him like he always does.

His mother stood at the top of the stairs, unnoticed by any of you. She looked at the dynamic of all of you, especially looking at how clingy Hueningkai was with her son. She didn’t peg Yeonjun to be the type for physical affection like this.

A smile crept on her face, moved by the fact that his friends would go to these lengths to be there for him.

She tied her robe around herself, making her way down the stairs. And as she did so, Beomgyu noticed. He nudged Taehyun and motioned for him to look up, so he did, followed by all of you as you fell silent.  

Yeonjun looked in the same direction all of you were focusing your gazes on, and immediately understood why you fell quiet like that.

As she made her way down the stairs, you got a closer look at her face, and the resemblance she had to Yeonjun was almost scary.

“Yeonjun? Who are these people?” Her voice was clear and warm, a little raspy cause she was probably asleep before you invaded her home.

She scanned everyones faces but when her eyes landed on you, they lingered on you, and it made you feel incredibly self-conscious.

Your paranoid ass started to get insecure, thinking she knew something about your relationship with her son, but her attention was quickly averted as Yeonjun spoke up.

“Is it okay if they stay here?” he asked politely.  

“Of course, make yourselves at home. Any friend of Yeonjun’s is welcome here. If you all move to the living room so you can talk, I’ll go make some tea.”

“Thanks, mom.”  

This whole dialogue confused all of you. To your knowledge, their relationship was questionable. But this seemed like a regular Mother and Son dynamic.

His mother disappeared in the massive hall as Yeonjun motioned for all of you to walk towards the living room. He knew he had a lot of explaining to do but he was dying to know why you were here after everything he said to you.

He was sure that no matter the circumstance, you’d never want to see him again. Yet here you were, looking at him with those big doe eyes of yours.  

As the rest of the group admired the rest of the house, walking towards the living room, Yeonjun stopped you by tugging at your elbow lightly.  

Your heart raced as he touched you, you looked down, hooking your pinkie in his before you looked up at his face.

His eyes were sad, apologetic, and insecure. “I…didn’t expect you to come with them…” he says looking at your intertwined fingers.

You sighed, rubbing comforting circles into his palm with your thumb. “Let’s talk later ok?” you say giving him a small yet reassuring smile. He nodded, letting go of your hand, leading you into the formal living room.

He caught Beomgyu playing with an antique object and Yeonjun’s brotherly side immediately kicked in. “If you break that you’re gonna have to work all of your life to repay my mother,” he says sternly as he sat down in the chair opposite from the couch all of you were seated on.

Beomgyu quickly let go of the weird-looking object and cleared his throat. “Ok, spill the beans hyung. What’s going on?” He asks as he sat down on the armrest of Yeonjun’s chair.  

Yeonjun sighed, not quite knowing where to start.

“First of all. I owe all of you an apology,” he starts choking up a little.

“Hyung…” Taehyun says, his eyes getting sad as he watched Yeonjun protectively.

The mood in the room suddenly shifted as Yeonjun sighed. You could swear his eyes were getting watery, and there was nothing more that you wanted than to hold him in your arms right now. You wanted to comfort him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but you had no idea what was going on yet.

His mother emerged from the entrance with a tray full of teacups and cookies. She put down the tray and stood beside Yeonjun in silence.

“I’m sorry for acting the way I did on the night of the party. The way I acted towards you guys was uncalled for, especially towards you… y/n.”

You lock eyes with him again, and you feel his mothers’ eyes on you as well.

Hueningkai sat down in front of Yeonjun on the floor, putting a comforting hand on his knee.  

Yeonjun gave him a small smile. Out of nervousness, Soobin grabbed Mia’s hand and squeezed it as all of you anticipated his next words.

“That night, I stayed at my uncle's house. The next morning my mom showed up to talk to me. It took some time but…we found some type of middle ground and I agreed to come back home with her for a while.”  

“So…what was the family emergency?” Soobin asks a little confused.

Yeonjun inhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. He fell quiet for a second, suddenly noticing the room full of people that cared enough about him to drive all the way across the country to comfort him in a situation they didn’t know of, even though he was being a complete asshole.  

He didn’t know what he did to deserve them. He looked at them individually and his heart started to swell with the intense amount of love he felt for them.

He looked at Beomgyu’s arm around him, Hyuka’s comforting hand on his knee, Soobin’s worried and glistening eyes to match Taehyun’s, Mia’s protectiveness, and your patient yet scared facial expression.

He bit his lip, getting emotional and he felt Beomgyu pull him closer.

“My dad is counting his last days,” he says looking at the floor.

You didn’t know about anyone else, but this was the last thing you expected.

The room fell silent apart from a few gasps. Your heart sank to your stomach and tears start to prickle your eyes as you watch him struggle to contain his emotions. His lip was slightly trembling, his hand covering his mouth as his eyes were big and sad.

“Oh, Yeonjun…” Mia sighs as she rubs Soobin’s back to comfort him as well.

Soobin isn’t one to cry but seeing the people he loves the most go through pain is absolutely heartbreaking to him. He wiped a single tear from his eyes and so did Taehyun as he sighed loudly.

Yeonjun huffed, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes to look at his friends. “Don’t cry. Stop, please.” He starts.  

“It’s going to sound awful, but I’m not sad that he’s dying. My dad was…is a horrible person. He was abusive, manipulative, and unreasonable. There was no one I feared more than that man. Every time I closed my eyes at night I wasn’t scared of aliens and monsters under my bed, I was scared of him coming into my room to yell at me or hit me. I think I’m sadder about the fact that I’ll never get an apology out of him for ruining me. I’ll never hear him say that he was wrong for the things that he did to me as a kid and that’s the hardest pill to swallow.” Yeonjun confessed all in one go.

You swallowed harshly, trying to suppress a sob. Taehyun noticed that you were having a hard time, so he put his arm around you, making you lean into him by subtly pulling you towards him.

“I went to see him today, and even though we couldn’t really communicate the way I hoped we would, he made it clear to me that he wasn’t sorry.”  

“What…” Soobin says in disbelief. “He wasn’t remorseful at all?”

“No.” Yeonjun shook his head, contemplating if he should tell them about the contract and the company, but given the fact that his mother was in the room; he decided against it.

He didn’t know if he could trust her, for all he knew she could be after the money and the company herself. Knowing his mother, she could be just as ruthless as her dad when it came to business matters.

“Yeonjun, we’re here for you. Seriously. If you need anything at all just tell us. We won’t be leaving unless you tell us to.” Soobin states confidently as they look each other in the eye. His words made Yeonjun feel assured, and he bid Soobin a small smile. It was nice knowing that he wouldn’t be going through this alone.

He took a deep breath, shaking the sadness off of him. “Thank you guys for coming, seriously. I think I needed all of you more than I thought I would.”

“Of course,” Hueningkai says.

“Anytime, we’re family,” Beomgyu says as he squeezed Yeonjun’s shoulder.

You heard a small scoff from the left corner of the room and saw his mother with her arms crossed.  

You narrowed your eyes at her, raising your brow.

“Friends are friends, family is family,” she says, genuinely believing her own words.

Everyone was looking at her by now, as was Yeonjun who just sighed, ignoring her.

You don’t know why, but suddenly you feel a surreal amount of anger boiling in the pit of your stomach. You scoff at her statement which made Mia give you a warning look.

“We’ve been more of a family to him than you have been his whole life,” you say clear as day before you can think of the damage that you’ve just done, and just like that the atmosphere turned cold.

Yeonjun’s eyes widened, looking at you in shock.

Soobin uncomfortably shifted in his seat and Taehyun gave you a ‘bitch what the fuck was that’ look.

“Excuse me?” his mother’s tone changed completely. The once so soft-spoken woman turned into the ice queen herself and gave you a look that would normally make you run the opposite direction, but you held your ground by staring back at her fiercely.  

“What she means is…” Taehyun jumps in quickly. “That we truly are a family, we’d go to hell and back for each other and that’s a fact…mam,” he says as politely as humanly possible.

You try your best not to roll your eyes, which Yeonjun noticed. He had an amused smile on his lips, which his mother then noticed and suddenly it clicked to her. You were the girlfriend who wasn’t his girlfriend. The girl that stole her son’s heart, and the girl that talked back to her in her own home.

“It’s getting late. I suggest everyone gets some sleep. You all must be tired from the long drive. We don’t know what is waiting for us tomorrow and if you are sticking by his side like you all say you are, then we better get some good night’s rest.” She says almost diplomatically, perfectly enunciating every word as if she rehearsed it.

You honestly didn’t even think of sleeping, you wanted to talk to Yeonjun, clear the air between you two, and comfort him to your best ability. He just told you his dad was dying, and his feelings were disregarded so quickly that it shocked you.

In your household, a revelation like this would result in hours upon hours of talking about your feelings, whereas in Yeonjun’s home. Feelings are seen as a temporary burden. It was scary how quickly the mood switched from emotional to almost business-like, but Yeonjun didn’t know any better. He was wired the exact same way as his mother because that’s how he had learned to deal with his feelings.

It’s like he only allowed himself to feel true emotion for a little while, seeing it as impractical to be vulnerable. This household really did feel like a business deal, which made your heartache for Yeonjun even more.

Soobin was the first to get up, stretching his tall body before he helped Mia to her feet as well.

Lita emerged from the entrance to lead all of you upstairs to your respective guest rooms.  

Soobin and Mia shared a room, as did Hueningkai and Taehyun. Beomgyu and yourself, however, got rooms to yourselves with attached bathrooms in a whole different wing than the others.

From the outside, his house looked enormous, but from the inside, it was even bigger. You were already getting lost in the halls even though you were in a group. You had no idea where you came from every time you turned a corner and Yeonjun noticed how lost you were, chuckling to himself a little as he walked closely behind you.

You were the last one to be appointed to a room, as everyone else was already settling down.

“This is where you’ll be staying miss.” Lita says as she points to the door across from Beomgyu’s room.

You nod sheepishly, turning the doorknob. Your mouth fell agape at the sight of the room. You could swear it was as big as your apartment. The interior was classic, yet modern. And looking at the way the bed was made you were almost scared to wrinkle the bedsheets.

You swallow harshly, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

“This will do, right? If not, I have a bigger option at the end of the hall.”

“N-no, this is fine, more than fine,” you stutter.

Yeonjun stood behind Lita, leaning against the doorframe with a shit-eating grin on his face.

He was enjoying your flustered state, as it took a lot to get your smart-ass anywhere close to dumbfounded.  

You saw the playfulness in his eyes, and you cursed at yourself for being so obviously impressed with everything.

“If you need anything just give me a call with the house phone. The number is on your bedside table. Goodnight.” Lita says giving you a warm smile.

“Goodnight…” you mutter timidly as you close the door behind you after you watched Yeonjun walk off with her.

You lean your head against the doorframe, your mind spinning with all of the things that happened in such a short time frame.  

You sigh, throwing your bag on the bed. You decided to take a quick shower. The attached bathroom looked like one out of a magazine, so it took some time for you to adjust and figure out how to set the right temperature for the faucet.  

You really needed that shower to clear your mind and relax your muscles. You were basically clenching your butt cheeks the whole night out of nervousness, and you could already feel the muscles in your body getting sore. You sigh, finishing up your routine and slipping into an oversized shirt to sleep in.

During your whole routine, all you could think of was Yeonjun, and how badly you wanted to be alone with him right now.  

You stare at the ceiling as you laid on your back, completely engulfed in the soft sheets and pillows of the bed.  

You were wondering how he was doing, if he was thinking of you or if he was asleep.  

You sit up, turning on the bedside lamp as you reach for your phone, ready to text or call him but your actions were interrupted as you heard soft knocks on your door.

Your eyes widened, knowing damn well that it was him.

You put your phone aside and crawled out of the bed with lightning speed. 

When you opened the door and locked eyes with him, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his frame to hug him tightly.

He was surprised by your affection, wrapping his arms around you as well to hold you even tighter.

He closed his eyes as he buried his face in your hair, appreciating the moment.

God, he missed you.

You walked backwards, still in his hold as he closed the door behind him skillfully with his foot.

He let go of you slowly, grabbing your face as he searched for answers in your eyes for questions he hadn’t asked yet, but when you looked at him with the same longing facial expression as his, he knew enough.

He inched his face closer to yours, pulling you in for a soft and needy kiss that you yearned for so much. You stabilized yourself by holding on to his wrists as he kissed you with so much passion and hunger, that your mind went foggy. He pulled away slowly. Leaning his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Hi,” you say shyly, smiling up at him.

Your cuteness made him chuckle softly. “Hey,” he replies, letting go of you reluctantly.  

You sit down on the bed and pat the spot next to you as a way of telling him to sit there. He complies and you face him, looking into his tired eyes.

You remove a stray piece of hair that was prickling his eyes and sigh.

“Tell me how you’re feeling, honestly,” you say taking a hold of his hand.

He takes a deep breath, knowing he can’t bullshit with you. “I’m not sure,” he confesses.

“It’s like one second I’m fine, and I forget what’s happening and the next I’m sad and angry. I feel bipolar,” he says letting himself fall flat to the bed.  

You sigh, scooting closer to him. “That’s perfectly normal. I’m glad you’re still able to feel something given everything you’ve been through.”  

He sighs loudly pulling you down with him, so you were situated on his chest. You comply, knowing that he needed you close for comfort, and to be really honest with yourself, you missed the feeling of having him close like this. You stay like that for a while, enjoying each other’s presence in the silence before he decided to break it.

“I’m so fucking sorry y/n,” he says in almost a whisper as he plays with your hair, lost in thought.

You stay silent, getting sad as you think back to your explosive fight. “I should have never slapped you,” you admit choking up. The fact that you did was something you couldn’t get out of your mind nor forgive yourself for. Especially after Soobin told you about his abusive childhood, all you could do was hate yourself for it.  

Yeonjun noticed the crack in your voice and sits up immediately with you still in his arms.  

“Y/n if I was you, I would have done more than just slapped me in the face, I deserved that. It’s okay,” he says shushing you, caressing your cheek in order to calm you down.

You take a deep breath, blinking away the fluid in your eyes before you start to speak. “No, it’s not. And let’s not sugar-coat it. We were both wrong, and we were both right at the same time. I just don’t understand how we go from paradise to hell in a matter of seconds Yeonjun, it’s what scares me about us.”  

He just nods, not being able to counter act your statement because you were right.  

The not being able to live with or without each other was a level of toxicity that you swore you’d never fall for. But yet here you are, wrapped up in the arms of the man who basically told you his best friend could have you now that he’s done with you.

You can’t even tell him how many times those words rang through your head like a painful mantra, but that’s the last thing that you want to burden him with right now.

“I forgive you,” you say breaking the silence. “I really do. I know you only said those things to push me away because you’re afraid to let me in, but you’re not the only one that’s scared Yeonjun. So am I. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone and that’s just…’  

“Scary,” he says, finishing your sentence.

“Yeah..”

Yeonjuns shoulders fell, giving you a kiss on your forehead. “We can figure out what all of this means for us later, but for now I’m just really, really happy you’re here right now.”  

You nod in agreement, kissing his jaw affectionately before you wrap your arm around his waist again, and suddenly his mind flashed back to the little altercation between you and his mother.

“I can’t believe you talked back to my mom like that.” He snorts as he pulls you back down again, making himself comfortable with you laying across his chest. 

“I’m sorry but it was the fucking hypocrisy that did it for me,” you huff a little annoyed as you think back to the moment.

Yeonjun just chuckles, and you feel his chest vibrate as he does so. “I don’t know. I get what you mean but she’s been trying. I can’t move forward with her if I don’t give her a chance to change but…I don’t trust her yet,” he says lost in thought.

“What don’t you trust her with?”  

Yeonjun bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating if he should tell you about the whole ordeal with his dad this afternoon, but since he wanted your opinion on the matter, he decided to tell you.  

“I told you guys I went to visit my dad, right?” He says rubbing your back absentmindedly.

You nod, looking up at him. “What happened?”

“He wrote me a letter saying that he’s been keeping tabs on me, and that he wants me to take over the business because he doesn’t’ trust my mom.”

“Wow, wow, wow. What?” you say sitting up again.

“Yeah, that was a very rough summary,” he says propping himself up on his elbows to look at you.

“He kept tabs on you?”

“He had people spy on me. It’s scary baby, he even knew of you.”  

Your eyes widen in shock. It’s like you were suddenly involved as a pawn in a very complex game of chess and you didn’t know what to think of it.  

“And he wants you to take over Choi Enterprises?”

Yeonjun just nods, looking up at the ceiling.

“Well…are you?”

“It’s never what I wanted. And It’s not like I want to grant his dying wish or anything like that but…”

“But?”

“It is my birthright.”  

You blink a couple of times, letting his words register. If Yeonjun was seriously contemplating whether or not to take the position of acting CEO, you were sure he wouldn’t need some lame college degree to back him up. He’d drop out of school; move back to his hometown and you’d never see him again. Selfishly it’s not what you wanted, but it wasn’t about you. It was about him.

“If I just let my mom run the company, I could always roll in if I wanted to, but if I would go behind her back and acquire the position myself, it’d break the little trust we built.”

“What if your mom is just using your good heart to get to that position herself?” You ask thinking out loud.

“You think she’d do that?” Yeonjun says genuinely interested, not offended at all by the assumption. If anything, he was happy to have someone to talk to, so he could look at the situation from multiple perspectives.

“I mean…what do you really know about her?” You ask tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers to keep yourself occupied.

Yeonjun looked at you, biting his lip as he got lost in thought again.  

“My dad did mention something in the letter about her, and her quote ‘cunning family’ being after Choi Enterprises, but I don’t know it just…seems like a stretch. My mom knows I don’t have interest in the company.”  

You halt your movements, laying back down on his chest as you make yourself comfortable.

He looked down at you lovingly, giving you a quick kiss on your lips when you looked up at him again.

“Maybe ask him about it. I can come with you if you want. First thing in the morning.”  

Yeonjun’s brows raised in surprise. “You’d do that?” he asks a little baffled at the fact that you’d voluntarily throw yourself in a lion’s den for him. This wasn’t just like visiting a relative in the hospital, there was so much more at stake that even Yeonjun himself couldn’t fathom right now.

You nod, not having to think twice about it. “Anything for you.”

The two of you fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each others’ warmth with your arms and legs tangled together. It was the best sleep both of you had gotten in the past couple of days. Though it was a short night, you were well-rested.

At around 8 AM you texted Soobin that Yeonjun and yourself went out to talk to each other in private when in reality you were going to visit the hospital to see Yeonjun’s dad. You were sure everyone was still in deep sleep and that you’d be back before they’d notice, but it felt better to at least let someone know that you left the house together.

The car ride was silent, nerves eating at the both of you as you held hands while he drove. He was nervously biting the inside of his cheek like he always does, and never let go of your hand the whole way.

As you walk through the endless halls of the hospital and pass security to the VIP section; you started to get more intimidated by the level of security present. They let Yeonjun through without a word and you trailed behind him with big eyes as you held onto his hand tightly.

He sighed, turning around to look at you as he stops in front of a massive double door. “Last time I saw him I stormed out in anger. Even when he’s not responsive he makes my blood boil and I honestly don’t want you to see me like that if it happens again.” He confesses as he looks at you seriously.  

You sigh, squeezing his hand as reassurance. “I don’t care. I’m not leaving your side.”  

Yeonjun nodded, taking a deep breath before he prepared himself as he opened the door to his fathers’ VIP area, but the sight he was welcomed with, was the last one he expected.

You noticed how he froze, and you frowned, standing on your toes to peek over his shoulder but your heart dropped to your stomach as you saw and heard what was going on.

Doctors and nurses were frantically trying to resuscitate Yeonjun’s father.  

“CLEAR!”  

The loud and continuous beeping of the heart monitor, followed by the charging sounds of the defibrillator was all the confirmation you needed to know that he was flatlining.

Panic was evident, and you knew that despite all the efforts of the doctors, chances were little to nothing that they’d be able to bring him back, given the state he was already in.

Your gasp was noticed by a few nurses and doctors which made one of them groan in disapproval.  

“How did they get in here!? No one is allowed inside.” The doctor huffs before he charged the defibrillator again.

“CLEAR!”

Yeonjun watched his father’s body contort as the joules of electricity were charged through his chest, but it was to no avail.  

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” One of the nurses says as she blocks the view.

Yeonjun pupils darted from his father to the doctors. He was in pure shock and unable to comprehend was going on before you lightly tugged at his hand. 

“Yeonjun,” you say in almost a whisper, trying to snap him out of it as you squeeze his hand.

“I-I’m his son,” Yeonjun says in an attempt to stick around. The same nurse from the day before gave him an apologetic look as she slowly pushed him out the door, while another doctor closed the curtain.

“I’m really sorry Yeonjun, but it’s protocol. You have to wait outside.”  

She closed the door behind her and left the two of you completely paralyzed in the halls of the VIP ward.  

Yeonjun turned around, leaning his back to the wall as his legs became weak. He slowly crouched down, and the sight broke your heart into a million pieces.

He wasn’t crying, he didn’t even look sad. He was just frozen. 

He looked into nothingness as he listened to what was going on inside of the room.

You quickly crouch down with him, not knowing what to do other than hold his hand and caressing his face with your free hand.

He still stared at the wall across from him as you pulled him close, making him rest his face on your shoulder as you whispered sweet nothings to him while he had to listen to what was going on in the other room.

The continuous beeping noise of the heart monitor followed by the sounds of the defibrillator sent chills down your spine as you held him to your best ability.

He didn’t respond to you or react to anything else, and when the noises halted after a minute or so, you knew they called it. 

He closed his eyes, suddenly tightening his arms around you as realization struck him.

“Time of death, 8.43 AM.”

You were seated in the family room of the hospital, handing Yeonjun a plastic cup filled with water.

He snapped out his thoughts and accepted the cup, taking a sip from it while avoiding eye contact with you.

He hadn’t quite looked at you yet. He was continuously staring into the void and it was starting to become scary. You wished he’d just say something, but he wasn’t able to, so you gave him time.

You promised you wouldn’t leave his side, and you were keeping that promise by handling the communication with the nurse, so he didn’t have to. You had called Soobin to tell him what was going on and you were sure they’d all be here in no time.  

You sat down across from him, trying to give him some space to gather his thoughts but it was like he wasn’t even in the room with you.

You sigh, taking a sip of your own cup of water and just as you were about to speak, his mother walked in followed by your friends.

She stepped aside as the boys enveloped Yeonjun in a tight hug, while Mia stood beside you, squeezing your shoulder lightly to show support.

Yeonjun sighed into the hug, loosening up a little and his frozen state seemed to vanish.  

Again, he wasn’t getting emotional, but he closed his eyes, letting his friends hold him in silence for a while.

The sight made your eyes water a little, but you choked back your tears, not wanting to be the one to start crying when no one else was.

His mother turned her attention to you, and you looked back at her while Mia was protectively standing next to you, still with her hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you for handling the communication with the staff. That must not have been easy, and I apologize for the fact that you had to do that. That should have been me. I’m sorry.”

You were taken aback by her apology and quickly shake your head in response. “No, no, please. Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do.”

She gave you a simple nod and averted her attention to Yeonjun. He got up from the chair and walked over to his mother, opening up his arms for her.

She hesitated but went for the hug anyway, closing her eyes as she inhaled his scent, letting him hold her for a bit. The physical affection making her tear up.

He rubbed her back, patting her hair.

“It’s ok mom, you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

Everything happened so incredibly fast that you weren’t even able to process what the hell was going on around you. The Choi family had people for people who worked for those people, which meant that the funeral was basically held within the next day.

Lita made sure that the boys, Mia, and yourself had something appropriate to wear for the ceremony and you were in Yeonjun’s room, dressed and ready just half an hour before the service would start.  

You were seated on his bed, watching him fix his tie in the mirror.

He had been super quiet and detached, and you wanted to give him space, but he was adamant about the fact that he wanted you around. He hadn’t shed a single tear and didn’t even really talk about what happened. It was mostly you doing the talking for him.

Having to explain what you saw was rough, and you were worried it’d trigger something inside Yeonjun, but it didn’t. He kept himself composed and strong, and you were curious how long he could keep that façade alive.

You snap back from your thoughts and watch him struggle with tying his tie. A small smile crept upon your lips and you get up from the bed, walking towards him to do it for him.

He looked at you lovingly, holding on to your waist as he watched you tie the knot expertly just like your father taught you.

“What can’t you do?” he asks amused, looking down at you.

You look up at him through your lashes and scoff. “Get you to open up apparently,” you say as you finish up, giving him a soft pat on his chest to let him know you’re all done.

He blinked a couple of times, biting his lip.

“I love you.”  

Your eyes snap up to his in shock, making sure you didn’t just imagine that.  

“W-what?”  

“I love you,” he repeats, giving you a small smile as he fixes a piece of your hair.

“Y-Yeonjun I-” you stutter.

His confession was loud and clear, though it took you some time to process. You had no idea where it was coming from, but as you looked him in the eye; all he showed was confidence and sincerity.

“I think I knew the night of our fight, I wanted you as far away from me as possible to protect you from myself, and my uncle out of all people made me realize that that’s something you do out of love.” He explains making sense of his words.

“I don’t know what love feels like y/n, but when I look at you…the way you handled this whole thing. Sticking by me and supporting me emotionally even though I see you struggle with your own emotions it’s just…” He sighs, organizing his thought before he spoke again.

“I couldn’t put into words, how much I care for you and appreciate you, and that’s when it clicked that there’s a whole ass expression for that feeling,” he says, letting his hands travel to your waist again.

“I love you y/n. So, fucking much that it hurts,” he admits, closing his eyes as he leans his forehead to yours.

You sigh contently, letting your hand travel up to his cheek, softly caressing it before you peck his lips softly.  

“I love you too.”

Yeonjun didn’t expect you to say it back to him, but you meant every word you said. His eyes snapped open and a huge boyish grin crept upon his face, his eyes glistening with pleasure as he pulled you towards him roughly, which made you yelp in response.  

“You do?” He asks beaming at you.

“Yes Yeonjun, now wipe that grin off your face. We have a funeral to attend,” you say as you playfully roll your eyes.  

He snorted, letting go of you reluctantly, stealing a chaste kiss from you before he opened the door to his bedroom.

“After you, my love.”  

You were warned beforehand that the funeral would be more like a business event rather than a private family gathering. The ceremony took place in their back yard, so luckily you didn’t have to worry about running late.

The number of people you were introduced to, given the fact that Yeonjun paraded you around like an accessory was overwhelming. The only people that really stuck out to you were his uncle, Namjoon, and his wife Hye-Jin.

They were so happy to meet you that it felt like they already knew you personally.

Yeonjun basically had his game face on the whole night, it was a side to him that you hadn’t seen before and you realized that you missed the carefree, peer pong playing college boy from before.

As Yeonjun was talking to some stockholders, you decided to find your friends again.

“So…you and Yeonjun hyung are officially a thing now?” Taehyun asks as you join their table, completely exhausted from fake smiling to all the people you just met.

“Don’t think I don’t notice how he sneaks into your room every night y/n. Your room is literally right across from mine.” Beomgyu says as he gives you a bitter smile.

You roll your eyes at him as you smack his arm, earning a small yelp from him.

Soobin looked at you expectantly waiting for you to answer Taehyun’s question and you just nodded.

“We worked things through, I’ll tell you the details later but…we haven’t had the boyfriend, girlfriend talk yet.”

“Well, the timing is a little…” Mia starts.

“Yeah, exactly.”  

Hueningkai sighs, throwing his head back in annoyance. “What is going on, first Soobin hyung and Mia, then Beomgyu hyung and Ryujin and now Yeonjun hyung and you? Is there something in the air that I don’t know about?”

The group started snickering softly, trying not to be rude given the fact that you were at a funeral.  

“Maybe I should just start dating Taehyun.” He says jokingly nudging his friend.

“Actually, I’m kind of talking to someone too,” he says waving off the confused looks of everyone as he smiled at all of you.

“If it’s Yeonjun’s mom, I swear to god.” Beomgyu says.

“Ew, no. What the fuck.”  

“Can all of you please behave? Please. Just one night.” Soobin begs as he rubs his forehead, which made Mia chuckle, patting his back in comfort.

Soon after the music stopped. A spokesperson of the family took the stage, telling everyone to take a seat. Yeonjun’s eyes found yours, and he basically told you in sign language that he couldn’t join you guys, as it is expected that he sits at the front with his mother.

The ceremony was simple and short. There were multiple speakers and every once in a while, you checked Yeonjun’s facial expression to see how he was holding up.  

You noticed how the same hollowness returned if he didn’t have to act like the perfect son to all the attendees, and it worried you.  

After his mother took the stage, shedding a few rehearsed tears, they lowered the casket, and the ceremony was basically over with. Watching his mother put on such an academy award-winning performance, made you realize that apart from you, your friends and the immediate family, no one knew what kind of person Choi Daniel really was.

It made you sick to your stomach that he was being honoured as if he was some type of hero.

A few hours pass before the last guests leave the house. Your group was seated together in the formal living room, and when Yeonjun enters with an exhausted look on his face, all of you fall quiet as you stare at him.

He let himself fall onto the lounge chair and loosened his tie, slouching down in his seat as he threw his head back.

“Are you okay?” Mia asks, being the first to speak up.

“I’m just drained I guess,” Yeonjun says rubbing his temples.

“Well, we are leaving tomorrow, so we can go back to our normal lives asap. I feel like I’ve walked into some K-drama.” Taehyun retorts as he sits down as well.

Yeonjun lifts his head, biting his lip as he looks at the group of people he cares about the most. “Right, about that…”

His eyes find yours and you can already see that he’s sorry about something.

You cock your head to the side, waiting for him to continue, and then he sighs.

“I’m not coming back with you guys,” he says apologetically. “At least…not for a while. I can’t just leave my mom in the midst of all of this. There's so much more that needs to be taken care of…”

Your heart sank a little, but it was understandable for him to stick around longer. 

Mia narrowed her eyes at Yeonjuns words, and the guys just hummed understandingly.

“How long will you be gone for then?” Hueningkai asks.

“Till the end of Summer I think,” Yeonjun replies, his eyes finding yours.

You understood the circumstances, but you were shocked, to say the least. Even though you’ve been together non-stop since the incident, he hadn’t talked to you about it.

He gave you a sad look when you avoided his gaze, which Mia noticed as she looked at you two.

Yeonjun decided he had enough of the gloomy atmosphere and decided to crack open his fathers’ expensive collection of aged wines and scotches.  

Since they were at home, he let the minors indulge a little too. Everyone was letting loose a little. The old playful group dynamic returned slowly but you were still lost in thought about Yeonjun’s decision to stay behind.

He noticed how you sat far away from him and sighed. He walked towards you. Asking you to come with him to the kitchen and you agreed. Feeling that it was best to talk about this before you make matters worse by overthinking.

You took a seat at the breakfast bar, waiting for him to start talking, but he just looked at you with concern.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says.

“I was just…speaking to so many people today and I realized I can’t just pretend that this part of my life doesn’t exist anymore. Especially now that he’s gone.”

“Yeonjun, I’m not mad. I just…don't get why you would tell me you love me when you knew that you weren’t going to come back with us," you say as you play with your fingers

His eyes widened and he got closer to you. Taking a hold of your hands after he made you look up at him by tugging at your chin.

“Hey, It’s just a few weeks. Nothing will change the way I feel about you; I promise. I just need time to unravel all of these family secrets. I never got to ask him why he didn’t trust my mother and after today I just…I have to figure it out.” 

You nod, understanding completely. Somehow you wanted him to ask you to stay here with him for the rest of summer, but the fact that he didn’t was all that you needed to know.

“Don’t be sad okay, we’ll stay in contact,” he says as he caresses your cheek. 

You nod and lean into his touch which made him smile. He inched his face closer to kiss you softly.  

You didn’t know what, but something was off about him. He looked at you with affection but at the same time, his eyes were hollow, almost soulless.  

A small knock on the wall snaps both of you back to reality, your heads snap back to see Mia in the doorway looking at you both seriously.  

“Y/n, Soobin needs your help with something.” She says as she gives you a small smile.

You frown, and so does Yeonjun, but you decide to go see for yourself, not thinking much of it.

“Alright then?” you say as you get up from the barstool, walking towards the formal living room.

Mia’s gaze followed you out the door, and before Yeonjun could walk back to the living room with you. She stops him.

“You’re not coming back are you?” She asks, looking him in the eye sternly.

Well, fuck.

Yeonjun sighs. He should have known. Mia sees through anyone’s bullshit; and given how protective she is of y/n. He knew he had to tell her the truth before she beat it out of him.

“I’m not sure yet,” he admits, avoiding eye contact with her.

Mia’s shoulder fell, her eyes getting sad. It was just an assumption she had, but she didn’t expect him to tell her the truth this easily.

“Yeonjun…you can’t do that to her.”

“Don’t you think I don’t know that?” he says raising his voice a little. He glanced through the hall at the group, making sure you didn’t hear him before his gaze returned to Mia.

She stared back at him in disbelief, waiting for him to explain himself.

“I just…I need time. I can’t be what she deserves the way I am now. It could take weeks, months, maybe even years but you have to believe me that I’m doing it for her,” he says trying to make Mia understand.

“If there was another way, I’d do it, but after today my world turned dangerous. There are too many people after the company. Money makes people do crazy things and I don’t want her anywhere near it. Y/n has to be protected at all costs. I have to handle this on my own.”  

Mia exhaled loudly, trying to gather her thoughts as her hand lands on her forehead.

“I love her more than anyone Mia. I do. You have to believe that I’m doing this in her best interest.”

Mia just shakes her head, swallowing harshly before she makes eye contact again.  

“What about the guys.”

“They have each other, and y/n has you. You have to promise me you’ll be there for her.”

“Yeonjun...I-”

“Promise me.”

Mia sighs, defeated in a game she never even played. She closes her eyes, nodding at his request.

"Ok, I promise.”  

Chapter 10

[drunkhemingway]

Sorry, did someone say “A Zutara selkie AU that nobody asked for?”

I thought I heard that, so find it on AO3 or below the cut.

sealskin and saltwater

Summary: Katara wonders, for the first time in her life, if this is what drowning is like.

There is a storm the night she is born.

Outside the caves, the sea rages and the wind howls in times with her mother’s cries. The aunts and grandmothers gather around and pet her mother’s hair as the labor wracks her body. The storm quiets for only a moment as she slips from her mother’s womb. Her mother baptizes her in saltwater and names her Katara.

***

For the first long span of her life she knows nothing but the warm caves where the tribe sleeps and the joy of playing in the waves and the lazy contentment of sunning on rocks. Her father teaches her to hunt in the shallows where the fish are plentiful, and her mother teaches her to weave shells into her hair, and her brother shows her the places where the shiniest rocks can be found. When storms toss the waves high above her head and lightning spikes and twists in tempestuous patterns, Katara is not afraid.

“The sea keeps us safe,” her father tells her. “And the sea will always bring you home.”

Katara and Sokka go to a beach covered in sea glass and shed their pelts while they collect blue and green pieces of sparkle to bring back to Kya.

She hugs them fiercely close, and tells them, “Never leave your pelt unguarded. Never, never.” Katara does not understand why this is important, but she promises anyway.

She understands, later, when Kya sheds her pelt and then does not return. Hakoda searches the beaches for weeks, and it is only when the winter storms come that he returns to the caves and admits defeat.

Katara and Sokka sing a mourning song. Hakoda listens to their cries and refuses to hunt.

Days pass. Kya does not come home.

Hakoda sings a song of lamentation and loss and unbearable pain; then he slips into the sea, and Katara does not see her father again.

***

The world of men is cruel, and rough, and unyielding. Katara knows this. But the best sunbathing is on the beach where men’s scent lays heavy, and the winter has been long and harsh.

She tells Sokka she is going. He cannot drum up the energy to care. He is wooing a female from another tribe, and he is focused on that. “Sure,” he says, and she takes that as permission.

Katara sheds her pelt when she hits the rocks. She hides it carefully, always. She remembers her mother, remembers the whispered words of caution while Kya brushed out her hair. Katara remembers her mother, who was strong and brave and beautiful and never came home. Katara will not be captured.

She sunbathes on the beach that is heavy with the scent of men, and does not fear them. It is the cold season, when the storms rage and the surf beats angrily against the shore. They are almost never on the beach during this weather; and if they were, Katara knows that she can grab her pelt and dive into the sea, and the sea will take her home. She is never unsafe while her toes dangle in saltwater. The sun is wan and thin and gray, but it feels warm and nurturing after so many months in her tribe’s caves. Katara basks in the glow of the winter rays and thinks that she should go across the sea, where she hears there are golden beaches that are warm and drenched in sun all year round.

It is then, naked and relaxed and daydreaming, that she sees him. He is tall, pale even by the standards of men. His hair is dark like the ink of a frightened squid, like the depths of the sea trenches where fish with long teeth hide. But his eyes are gold like sunset on shallow waves, gold like early morning, gold like the underside of a shell. Katara decides, on impulse, that she trusts him.

“Are you alright?” he asks, and his voice is low and husky and concerned. Katara tries to meet his eyes, but he is looking at the ground and blushing. She frowns. Is he afraid? He removes the outermost layer of his clothes — a jacket, she thinks — and offers it to her. “It’s alright,” he says. “I won’t hurt you. Maybe put this on, though?” Katara does not take the proffered layer. She tilts her head, considering the boy before her. Her pelt lies in a small hole some feet away, covered by a rock. She could reach it before he drew his next breath, if she needed to. She does not want to.

“You’re a selkie,” the boy says, and Katara turns and disappears into the water.

Men are not to be trusted.

***

The next time she sees him, he is on a boat.

“He’s just a human,” Sokka says, when she leaves to follow the boat out to sea. Katara does not respond. She does not care to.

The boat hits rough waters while it pulls in its fishing catch. Katara sees her human near the bow — he is not in danger, and she is oddly relieved. A different human, one she does not know, falls from the boat. The sea, Katara thinks, will have its due. This boat of humans cannot stray this far from the shore without paying the toll.

But the boy is at the side of the boat, and he is yelling and throwing ropes and floating rings and wooden rods overboard, and suddenly Katara finds herself pushing the fallen human upwards and back towards the boat. They break the surface of the water, and he yells, and ropes fly, and Katara ducks back under the waves. Hakoda would be incensed to learn that she had saved the life of a human. But she could swear that she saw her human, the boy, right before she dove; and he looked like he wanted to say thank you.

***

She goes back to the beach. He is not there.

She sheds her pelt, day after day, and sunbathes naked on the sand. She cannot understand what keeps him away. She cannot understand what keeps drawing her back.

It is months and months and months before she sees him again. It is sunset, and the sand is bathed in red and gold when she sees him walking towards the water.

“I didn’t think you’d come back,” he says, when he finally finds her. “I didn’t want to hope.”

She says nothing, only pulls him towards the sea. If she can shed her pelt, surely he can sprout gills — and she has wanted nothing in her life so badly as she wants this human boy with ink-black hair and haunted eyes.

“I can’t,” he says. “But you should go back. The people I’m with will trap you, if they can.”

Katara tugs him towards the water once again.

“I wish I could,” he says, and sinks down to sit on the sand. He holds out an arm to her, and says, “Sit with me? I’ll tell you the story my mother told me about the very first sunset.” Katara sinks into the sand beside him, and listens.

***

“You’re obsessed with a human,” Sokka says.

“I can be obsessed with whoever I want,” Katara answers.

“Just don’t get hurt,” he responds.

“I won’t,” she says.

“Don’t let him take your pelt,” Sokka says.

“I won’t,” she repeats.

***

“Shall I tell you about the creation of the first lily?”

Katara nods.

“Alright. When the world was young…”

The tale does not matter as much as the voice that tells it. The story does not matter as much as the mind that spins it.

(His name, she learns, is Zuko.)

She speaks little, on the nights that she meets him on the dunes. He is there every night. She knows, because on the few nights that she did not come to greet him, she watched him from the waves. He waited, patient, for a long while, until finally he followed the dim light of the early-morning moon back to the world of men.

(His world is a world of men, and she does not belong there.)

His voice when he tells her stories is rich and sweet and full of life. Katara longs for a world that she has not seen or touched or heard of, when he tells her stories. She wants it; she wants to walk on streets paved with stone and buy candied fruit. She can only imagine it. He knows what she is; stepping away from the sea makes her heart seize and her brow bead with fear. She cannot leave her pelt. She cannot leave the sea.

Zuko asks for her name; then he never questions her again. He never asks after her pelt or her tribe or her cave; he simply tells her stories. She sings for him, sometimes, hunt-songs and songs of change and newness and wonder. When she leaves, he watches her until she slips out of sight beneath the waves.

There is some small, reasonable part of Katara that tells her not to return. She does not listen.

He tells her stories, night after night, of the Good Neighbors and the Fair Folk. He does not ask about selkies. He does not ask about the sea.

Katara returns to the caves and does not answer Sokka’s questions.

“What does he know?” Sokka demands.

She says nothing.

“You put us all at risk,” he accuses her.

Katara does not argue, and she does not speak of her human.

***

“I want you to stay with me,” says Zuko one day.

Katara does not answer him.

“I won’t ever make you,” he swears.

He is lying. Katara knows this. Humans lie. If she gives him her pelt, she will never see the ocean again.

She flees.

***

“You haven’t gone to the beach lately,” says Sokka.

Katara shrugs.

“What happened to your human?”

“He’s just a human,” Katara says. “You were right.”

She hunts with her brother, and sings the tribe-songs, and dances in sun-dappled waves. Just as she has always done. But her heart longs for the small rocky beach, and a boy with ink-black hair and golden eyes.

***

“I think I met the son of a seal-wife,” says one of the aunts one day, while they brush out their hair on the warm rocks outside the entrance to the cave. “He did not look like us, but he stood on the sand and sang a hunt-song. His mother must have taught it to him.”

Katara looks up, her heart clenching with an emotion she cannot name.

“How sad,” says another. “To know that part of you belongs in the sea, but having no pelt, no way to come home.”

Katara thinks of Zuko, standing alone on the shore, singing a song for her. Asking her to come back. She thinks of Hakoda, who sang his death-song and let the sea take him away, far from the tribe and their caves. Katara has always wondered if the sea had taken him back to Kya, in some way. If that was its way of taking Hakoda home.

She wonders where the sea will take her if she lets it.

***

She goes back, many nights later, when the moon is full.

He is asleep.

There is a hut on the beach now, a little ramshackle makeshift thing made of driftwood and covered by sailcloth. It is hardly more than a lean-to, something to keep the rain off of the camp he has made, with a sleeping roll and a fire pit. He is asleep now, breathing deeply and evenly beside the gentle glow of the coals that are all that is left of his cook-fire. He has built this, she knows, because he has been waiting for her.

(His hair is longer. Has she truly stayed away from him for so long?)

She sheds her pelt and lays beside him, content for now to watch him dream. Moonlight turns his skin to silver; his hair falls like a shadow over his face. She reaches out to touch it, and it is as smooth and silky as her own pelt. She strokes him gently, running her fingers lightly through his hair, fascinated with the way it slips through her fingers and falls back against his cheek. He does not stir. Katara hums softly, a song of longing and wanting and needing, a song of apology, a song of thanks. When she looks back down at his face, his eyes are open, and he is watching her like a man who is dying of need, like a sinner looking at their god, like a sailor seeing home after months adrift at sea.

“You came back,” he whispers.

She nods.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t,” he says. His voice is low, just a murmur, as though she is an illusion that will shatter and fade if he speaks too loudly. His hand comes up and strokes her face, once, gently.

Katara leans into the caress, and Zuko repeats it, touching her with soft, reverent fingers. He traces the line of her cheekbone, her jaw, her temple; he threads his fingers into her hair and smooths it away from her face. “I waited,” he says. “I think I would’ve waited forever. I came back every night, hoping you would return.”

She thinks of the long days since she has seen him, and the endless longing for their beach and his voice and his shy smile, and is glad that he missed her too.

“And you came back,” he whispers reverently. His finger traces the shape of her lower lip.

“For you,” she murmurs, and leans forward to press her lips to his. He pulls her closer, and she rises over him and fits her body to his, and the feel of his skin on hers washes over her like crashing waves. He feels like the sea, like the endless depths and steady pull of the tides. His skin tastes of saltwater, and when she cries out his name it sounds like waves breaking on the shore.

Later, they sit close to the water, huddled together in a blanket, naked limbs tangled together under the wool. Katara is amused at Zuko’s discomfort with nudity; his body is beautiful, long and rangy and silvery-pale in the moonlight so he looks nearly as fey as she. But he is human, and they are odd about things like this, so she lets him wrap the blanket around them before he pulls her against him and holds her close.

“Come back to me again,” he whispers as he nuzzles her hair.

“Always,” she murmurs back.

***

She comes back to him, again and again.

He never asks her to stay, but his golden sunset eyes are sad when she slips back into the water. Katara thinks that she would give up more than the sea to prevent his sorrow.

“I think I love him,” she tells Sokka one day.

Sokka’s eyes are full of heartbreak as he looks at her. “Do I have to lose you, too?”

She curls close to her brother and does not answer.

“He’s a human,” Sokka tells her. “If he can trap you, he will. They can’t help it. They don’t understand what it means to be free.”

Katara thinks of Zuko hiding his body beneath a blanket, of the tribes who still sing the mourning songs for brothers and sisters who wandered ashore one day and never came back. She thinks of her pelt, always hidden close at hand. She thinks of her human, her lovely gold-and-silver boy, and the look in his eyes when he said, I want you to stay with me. I won’t ever make you. She wonders what he would do if she placed her pelt in his hands.

“I think I love him,” Katara repeats out loud.

“You belong in the sea,” Sokka replies.

“What if I can have both?” Katara asks.

Sokka only puts an arm around her and holds her close.

***

She gets tired of waiting.

Zuko watches her dive into the water, as he normally does; then he turns to walk away, back to the world of men. Katara waits until he cannot see her, and then she emerges from the water and sheds her pelt and follows him.

She holds her pelt wrapped around her like a cloak to cover her nakedness, but she has no clothes. And beyond that — she has seen enough humans to know that she does not quite look like one of them.

(She is a selkie, and there will always be something a little uncanny about her. She belongs to the sea. It leaves its mark.)

It is dangerous. If she is caught, or seen, she is too far from the water to flee the grip of men. She trusts Zuko, but not all humans are like Zuko. If she is seen, and someone takes her pelt, they will take her away and hold her captive and she will never see Zuko or the ocean or her brother ever again. She follows Zuko anyway.

He goes to a cottage that she assumes is his home. The door is unlocked; Katara lets herself in, and curls her toes against the unfamiliar feeling of wood floorboards beneath her feet. She drapes her pelt over the back of a chair, deliberate.

“You’re here,” he says wonderingly when he sees her. “How are you here?”

She smiles at him, shy now. “You let me leave,” she says. “I got tired of you letting me leave.”

He reaches for her, and she curls into him, easy and gentle like the morning tide.

“Ask me to stay,” she orders.

“Stay,” he whispers into her hair. “Please.”

She does.

The next morning, when she wakes in Zuko’s bed, surrounded by blankets heavy with his scent, her pelt is still on the chair where she left it. He has left her a note —

 Working today. Come back to me tonight?

She only smiles, and slips her pelt over her shoulders, and goes back to the caves, to the scent of saltwater and damp rock, to tell her brother that he was wrong.

“You’re staying with him,” Sokka says.

“I love him,” Katara answers. “And he does not try to tame me.”

“Come back when you can,” Sokka tells her, and it is the gentlest kind of goodbye, because she sees in his eyes that he truly does understand.

Katara thinks that this is what love is, a letting go, a come back to me, a kind benediction and a farewell. She kisses her brother on the brow, and softly hums a song of love and gratitude and belonging. Sokka weeps when she leaves, and she hears a song of farewell and heartache and pride and boundless, boundless love echo over the waves behind her. Katara reaches the beach, and sets her feet on the path toward the world of men.

Toward Zuko.

***

His love keeps her safe. Her pelt hangs in the closet, next to his coats and her skirts, and Zuko never touches it. The closet is locked when strangers come to visit, and Zuko laughs off the idea that his wife is anything more than human.

(The neighbors know she is fey, but by their way of thinking, Katara makes the best smoked fish in the village, and if Zuko wants to pretend that his woman is not a seal-wife, then that is none of their business. They whisper behind their hands, and wonder how he has kept her happy for so long, and how long it will be before she finds her pelt and disappears into the waves forever.)

Katara dives into the sea sometimes, when Zuko is gone on the fishing boats and she misses the pull of the sea. Then she returns to the caves, and hunts with her brother, and dances between the waves, and sings the tribe-songs. Sokka kisses her brow when she leaves, and commands her to come back when she can. He does not weep when she leaves. She returns to the little cottage, and Zuko is always waiting. There is a fire in the hearth, and a place for her to hang her pelt, and a warm pair of arms waiting to welcome her.

His love keeps her safe, and his love guides her home.

***

There is a storm the night their daughter is born.

Katara insists on going down to their beach. Zuko protests, but takes her anyway, and holds her hand while the aunts and grandmothers gather around and pet Katara’s hair and sing the birthing-songs as the labor pains wrack her body. They grumble at Zuko’s presence, but he refuses to leave.

Finally their daughter slips from Katara’s womb into the world as a particularly demanding crack of thunder sounds above them. Katara baptizes her in saltwater.

“We’ll call her Kya,” Zuko whispers into Katara’s hair. Katara smiles, and kisses her daughter’s tiny webbed toes.

fin.

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[crispmarshmallow]

and it’s so gut wrenching

Love me with your worst intentions. 

It had been a wedding gift from her brothers - a beautiful dagger commissioned by Doran and crafted by the blacksmith in Sunspear and bejeweled with the most precious stones Oberyn had acquired from across the Narrow Sea. They gifted it to her in a small chest as decorated as the weapon it carried before she left for Kingslanding. 

Elia had picked up the dagger from the velvet inside of the chest and relished in the feeling of it between her fingers when they handed it over to her. She had loved it. Daggers were one of the few weapons she had learned to use. One of the few that her delicate health allowed her to possess. I do not think I will need it. She had said to them. I will be a Princess of the Realm with many a sword and a Prince sworn to my protection. Doran and Oberyn insisted nonetheless - they would sleep easier if they knew she was not unarmed.

And she had not had any need for it. She took it with her wherever she travelled - from Dragonstone to Kingslanding and back - but she rarely took it out of its chest. Rare occasions being the ones when she had it lightly polished so it would not lose its lustre.

Elia had never felt the need for it. Until she did - at Harrenhal. Rhaegar had crowned another who was not her. And she knew - just knew - what precarious protection that her husband promised her within the Sept of Baelor was no more. 

Rhaegar rode past her after his victory against Selmy and though she felt insulted and neglected she kept her face neutral. She had perfected her mask as a princess far before she could even remember. She watched Rhaegar hand over the woven crown of winter roses to Lyanna Stark. She watched the uproar he caused. And she knew. Rhaegar had always been so cautious - he would risk so much for so little.

It did not matter that she carried his child within her - a child that could possibly be his heir. It was the last child that she would likely ever bear according to Pycelle. She had given Rhaegar Rhaenys and soon she will give another. The dragon must have three heads. Isn’t that what he always whispered to her? And she could not bear a third. 

Elia had noticed how his sweet little promises of love had grown far less frequent after the diagnosis by Pycelle. And she suddenly knew that was the reason - knew that was why he spurned her before all of Westeros for a woman already betrothed. She could no longer be an instrument in his precious prophecy. 

And so Elia took the dagger out its chest that night and slept with it under her pillow. She continued to do so after they left Harrenhal. 

Painted us a happy ending

She could not sweep Rhaegar’s actions under the rug. Elia had her pride and dignity to salvage. He had insulted her. House Martell. Dorne. And even his own children by neglecting her before the entire realm.

However, Elia and the little babe within her and Rhaenys held little power outside Dorne without Rhaegar. And so she could do no more than be as cold as the winters the House of his little Lyanna liked to warn of. Oh, a part of her wanted to do so much more. She wanted to coat her precious dagger in the poisons that Oberyn liked to experiment with so much and prick a small wound into her husband. She knew she could not do so though - she depended on him far too much. Moreover, it would tear her heart into two. 

It took an effort on her part, even with those dark thoughts, to be so cold to him. Somewhere along all the sweet promises he used to whisper when she had some use to him had made her grow to love him. Her coldness towards him and Aerys’ continued descent into madness was taking a toll on her. 

Pycelle had begun to worry for the child. And that made Rhaegar come seeking for forgiveness. Until then, he took her treatment with silence - ignoring anything out of the ordinary. Until then.

Rhaegar had apologized and kissed her tears of fury away. He whispered to her of how Lyanna Stark had been the Knight of the Laughing Tree and that his act had only been a reward for her valor and bravery and nothing more. He whisked Elia and Rhaenys away from Kingslanding to Dragonstone and catered to her every need.

And Elia had begun to believe his acts of repentance. He had looked so proud of her when she gave birth to little Aegon and how a comet shone over them as she did. He sang little Aegon a beautiful song. He said that little beautiful Aegon was the Prince that was Promised. 

Elia had begun to believe him and his promises again. She had. Just not enough to put the dagger back into its chest. 

Everytime you burned me down,

She loved him. She believed him. And she cursed herself for it. She wished she buried her dagger into his chest while she had a chance.

Rhaegar had insisted that they return to Kingslanding a month or two after sweet Aegon joined them. They had presented Aegon to Aerys and surprisingly garnered thin approval from the Mad King. 

After that Rhaegar had left Kingslanding with two  of the Kingsguard in tow. I must do this for the realm. He had refused to tell her what. Elia had supposed that it must have something to do with his plans in overthrowing Aerys.

She did not think him foolish enough to go and run off with Lyanna Stark. She didn't think he would risk war for a woman. And yet he did. 

He ran off with her. Brandon Stark demanded justice and he and his father were slaughtered before her eyes and the eyes of the court in a way so brutal that Elia began to have nightmares of her and her children in their place. Burning as Rhaegar watched passively - caring none for his family. 

As he did at the moment. War raged in the realm and no one knew where he was. And so nothing stopped Aerys from mistreating her and her children without Rhaegar in the city. Picking her as his target when he lashed out. 

He hurled insult after insult against her - blaming her for Rhaegar’s indiscretions. He had her humiliated before the court. Elia did her best to ensure that Rhaenys and Aegon were never in the vicinity when Aerys gathered in the Throne Room. She made sure Ashara had whisked them away to some quiet corner in the Keep while Aerys had his attention on her. 

She endured it - for her children. She would do anything for them. As she would have for Rhaegar. As Rhaegar would not have done for them. As he did not do for them. 

And Elia began to sleep at night with the dagger in one hand as Rhaenys curled around her body and she cradled Aegon in the other hand. 

Don’t know how, for a moment it felt like heaven

He came back to head the armies that he neglected for so long. Baratheon bagged victory after victory and Rhaegar could no more ignore his responsibility as the Prince and heir to House Targaryen.

She had not bothered to welcome him. She feigned illness to avoid it -  an excuse that was all too plausible. She did not want to see him after he returned from doing what he did with Lyanna Stark. 

However, Rhaegar saw fit to visit her and his children before he left for the battlefield. He came to Aegon’s nursery where Elia and Rhaenys spent most of their time these days. He came fitted in his armor decked with rubies and jewels and looked every bit the Prince that he was. The sight of him made her chest tighten with sadness and loathing and happiness at seeing him after so long. 

She watched him scoop Rhaenys into his arms and kiss her on the nose and whisper something that made his daughter burst into giggles. It would be so easy for Elia to think that he cared about his children - more than he cared about his stupid prophesy - to think that they could be a happy little family. Eventually, he put Rhaenys down and moved to pick up the sleeping Aegon to press a kiss to his forehead.

He approached Elia next. She curtsied to him and let him embrace her. She basked in its warmth for a moment. He whispered his little promises in her ears and Elia wondered if they always sounded so ridiculous. Lyanna Stark was the ice to his fire. Lyanna Stark was with child in Dorne. Rhaegar took his mistress to the homeland of his wife. 

Elia wanted to scream in fury and unleash the wrath of the Sun onto him - not even a dragon could prevail before the heat of the Sun. She thought of her dagger once more and of the satisfaction she would feel to see it in his heart. But it still remained that Elia was powerless without her husband. So she let him kiss her softly and let him mistake her tears of anger as tears of sadness at seeing him leave for battle. 

“Who do you think he fights for?” She had asked Ser Jaime  - the last of the Kingsguard in Kingslanding - a hostage to ensure the loyalty of his family as she was, as they watched Rhaegar and his host leave the city. . “Do you think he fights to keep Aerys on the Throne? Or to place himself upon it? Or so he can keep little Lyanna Stark? Do you think he fights for Aegon and Rhaenys?”

Jaime had hesitated. “He fights for you all, Princess.” It was an empty answer. Elia knew that the young knight almost worshipped the ground that Rhaegar walked upon. 

All? Elia had scoffed. “And yet he does not fight for me.” He never has and never will.

Rhaegar did not see fit to update her of his wellbeing or the state of war and the little news she received was always from Varys or Jaime. 

And a day came where Varys told her that her husband fell on the battlefield at the hands of Robert Baratheon - the name of Lyanna Stark on his tongue. Elia’s heart mourned while the darker parts of her soul rejoiced to see the man die at the hands of little Lyanna’s betrothed.

However, with his death it became more evident than ever how her position had depended on Rhaegar. Aerys blamed the Dornish for Rhaegar’s fate. He kept Elia and her children as he sent Viserys and Rhaella to Dragonstone - but not before stripping Aegon of his status as heir and handing it over to Viserys. 

Elia lost almost everything after her husband died - the husband that had thought not of his children or wife in his last moments. 

All Elia thought was of her children and she walked the corridors of the Red Keep with her dagger tucked into the sleeves of her dress with the two of them always by her side.

And it’s so gut wrenching, 

Aerys opened the gates for Tywin Lannister and Elia knew there was no hope. All she could think of as she rushed through the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast with Rhaenys holding on to her hand and a babe in her other was that she was thankful that Aegon was away and safe with Varys. 

Elia did not trust Varys - he had simply been her only choice to keep her babe alive. If Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister did not kill Aegon, Elia knew Aerys would. So she had let Varys take him to safety and she hated him with every part of her being for not taking Rhaenys too.

She hid them in the chambers of her dead husband as she could hear the chaos coming closer and closer. She tried to keep her tears of fury and fear and helplessness at bay as she told Rhaenys to hide beneath her father’s bed as if the piece of furniture would protect her as her father should have. She let her take Balerion with her - her little black kitten. Elia could only wish that the kitten was as powerful as its namesake. Alas, she could only wish as the noise got louder.

She slipped her dagger out of her sleeves and clutched it so tightly between her fingers that it hurt. She had none to protect her and Rhaenys and the babe that she held. Jaime was with Aerys and Barristan was captured by the Rebels and the rest were with her husband’s precious Lyanna Stark. 

She murmured to the children in the room as she could hear heavy footsteps itching closer to them  - trying to reassure them and herself. She would not let them be harmed without a fight. She would protect them with the dagger that she thought she would never have to use and all that she had.

She would protect them as the man she loved and their father should have. She would protect Rhaenys and Aegon and even the child that she held and Elia Martell knew that it would still not be enough. 

  Falling in the wrong direction.

Contains lyrics from Wrong Direction by Hailee Steinfeld © Warner Chappell Music, Inc, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

[panda-noosh]

on the ocean {Leo Valdez x Reader}

Words: 9.8k

Summary: Living on a boat has let you see plenty of weird things in your life. Leo Valdez might be the weirdest, so you don’t really understand why you decide to help him when he comes running onto the boat you call home, crying out for help.

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: nothing

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - so this is a thing now.

----

The sea is nice this time of day.

  You've docked, thank goodness. The constant sway of the ocean can take it's toll on anyone – including someone who has lived on a boat their entire lives. It's nice to take a break from it every once in a while.

  Now, with the sun slowly dipping behind the skyscrapers of New York, you lean against the railing and watch the people clatter onto the boat you call home. They struggle with suitcases and fussy children. A woman drops her ticket and starts crying, clearly exhausted from hours of travelling. You watch the process with a fond little smile on your face, enamoured by the people who will soon be sharing your space, the people you may soon come to know as close friends if all works well.

  There's tons of them getting on at this stop, but it's always the same with New York; considering how beautiful the city is, you're always shocked to find so many people wanting to flee from it, so many people wanting to spend their time on the ocean rather than amongst the skyscrapers and hot dog carts that you've heard litter the streets of New York. You, personally, would love to have a look. Just once. Just a single day where you can clamber off this cruise ship and take a dander through the streets, seeing what all the fuss is about.

  But you like it here. You like the rock of the ocean sometimes. You like the swish of the wind as it catches in your hair on nights where you can't seem to drag yourself away from the decks railing, too enamoured by the oceans sway to move.

  The commotion down below does not faze you. It never does; you've been here long enough to have seen almost everything by now – children threatening to throw themselves into the harbour, people genuinely falling into the harbour, tickets getting lost, suitcases being tipped the wrong way so the poor passengers clothes go sprawling into the ocean. After so many years of unpredictability, you've become immune to surprises.

  Until you see him.

  You don't recognise him – not at all. His dark curls, his short demeanour, the oil stained overalls hanging from his lanky body; you would surely remember him if you were to have seen him anywhere else, but his face doesn't ring a bell. Neither does his voice, which reaches even your ears despite how high up you are in comparison to him.

  He sprints through the centre of the crowd, nudging shoulders with everyone as he yells apologies left, right and centre. He's grinning, despite the startled tone in his voice. He pushes right to the front of the line, where he is stopped abruptly by a hand slamming into his chest, very nearly knocking him backwards.

  You have to crane your neck to see what is going on. The strange boy stands panting in front of Arnold, one of the ships dock workers.

  “Look, man,” the boy says, jumping from one foot to the other. “You have to let me through. You have to.”

  “Ticket,” is Arnold's only response.

  The boy groans, glancing over his shoulder in desperation. You don't even know what he's looking at, but it's clearly something terrifying. Even without knowing what it is, your stomach does a nervous flip.

  “I need a ticket,” Arnold repeats. “Or else I can't let you on. I'm sorry, son.”

  “Oh, come on!” The boy throws his hands up. “Why are you so boring? You ever broken the rules in your life?”

  Shit.

  You're moving before you even know why – you don't know this boy, have never seen him before in your life, but there's something about the way he's stumbling over his words, something about the suspicious red scrape on his cheek that tells you he shouldn't be out in the open like that; something is wrong.

  You clamber down the steps until you reach the entrance. You shove past the new passengers until you slam into Arnold's back, nearly stumbling over your own two feet in your haste. Arnold spins, catching you before you can fall face-first into the angry queue of passengers still waiting outside, clearly angered by the disruption.

  “You made it!” you exclaim, looking directly at the startled boy in front of you. “You're a bit late, aren't you? I cleaned my room for you, and this is how you repay me?”

  “Y/N?” Arnold asks, tugging you back protectively. “You know this boy?”

  You raise a brow as if confused that Arnold does not know who this boy is. “Of course I do. He's my friend. Mum and Dad said I could meet up with him once we docked in New York.” You frown. “Did they not tell you?”

   Arnold's face goes red. “No, they did not.”

  “Weird.” You turn back to the boy, putting your angry expression back on again. “Come on. You've held up the line long enough.”

  The boy looks between you and Arnold, eyebrows high on his forehead; you grab his hand and drag him through the door before he can expose your act as the lie it is. He stumbles in after you, shooting a “Sorry, man!” at Arnold before you pick up the pace and trail him upstairs.

  This is so bizarre; you've just lied to Arnold for seemingly no reason. If he goes to your parents and asks about who this strange boy is, you're going to be in so much trouble.

  But too late now.

  And call it scandalous, but the only place you can think to take him is your bedroom, so that's exactly where you go. You push him through the door, slamming it closed before you spin and say, “What's your name?” because that seems like an important piece of information to have from someone who you have just dragged into your bedroom.

  “Leo.” He says it like he's in a daze. His brown eyes dart back and forth, inspecting your room. His fingers don't stop moving, fiddling with a piece of scrap metal you hadn't even noticed he was holding. “Uh. . . Pretty sick place you've got here.”

  “It's my bedroom.”

  “Your cabin, you mean.”

  You level your eyes at him. “My bedroom.”

  He stares back at you. His face is mischievous. Does that make any sense? He just has the expression of someone who could potentially burn the entire world to the ground, a smile sharp as knives, eyes bright and glittering.

  Finally, he hums and says, “Okay. Well, thank you very much for saving my backside out there; I don't usually like my first impressions to consist of screaming, but here we are.”

  “Why were you screaming?”

  He raises a hand as if to silence you and starts pacing back and forth for absolutely no reason. “That is a secret. Top secret. I'd have to kill you if I told you.”

   “Or I'd have to kill you.”

  He pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. “I suppose. But less talk about murder, please, and more talk about why you just did that.”

  Your stomach curls. “You looked. . . in trouble.”

  Leo blinks. “I mean, good observation, but half the people with toddlers out there looked like they were in trouble, too, and you didn't shove them to the front of the line and give them a free ticket to. . .” He pauses, looking round your room like he expects to find a map of your route hung on the wall. “Where is this thing going, anyway?”

   “Northern Ireland,” you reply. “You didn't know that?”

  “I just saw a big transportation device and hopped right on it.”

  This conversation just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

  And this boy is weird, too, but in an endearing type of way. You watch from the door as he walks back and forth, picking up tiny ornaments, examining them with a slight frown on his face. At one point, he picks up your laptop and closes his eyes, before shaking his head and saying, “It's on its last legs,” and you're too stunned to even respond.

  Finally, it gets too much. You dart forward and snatch a pair of socks out of his surprisingly strong hands, tossing them on your bed. His eyes snap up, wide and startled.

  “Tell me what you were running from,” you demand.

  Leo frowns, slowly letting his hands drop back to his sides. “I already told you-”

  “Top secret, yes, I heard, but we both know that's bullshit-”

  “You do curse like a sailor!”

  You slap his shoulder. He laughs, pulling away. “I'm serious! I'm freaking out right now, alright? If my parents find out I let you on this boat, they're going to throw me overboard!”

  Leo rolls his eyes. “They're not going to find out. I'll stay super extra hidden, how does that sound?”

  “How are you gonna do that? You need a place to sleep-”

  “I can sleep in the engine room if you just show me where that is.”

 You raise a brow. “No one can sleep in the engine room; it gets very hot in there. You'll probably die from the heat.”

  Leo's eyes sparkle with what you can only recognise as amusement. “Well, lucky for me, I'm also very hot. I'll balance it out.”

  “I'm serious.”

  Leo groans. “Listen – you've done enough. You got me on the boat in the first place, so you can forget about me now, alright? I'll take matters into my own hands.”

   “You realise this is my house, right? I'm not just going to let you walk around; god knows what you'll get up to.”

  “The gods set me up in the first place.”

  You blink. “What?”

  Leo shakes his head, curls bouncing. “Nothing. My point is, I will be fine. I'll go play some table tennis with the retired ones out on the games deck, yeah? What harm could I possibly be doing?”

  You stare at him; it would be so stupid of you to just let him do whatever, but it was stupid dragging him on this boat in the first place – what's one more mistake going to do?

  You sigh and nod. “Fine. But please pretend you know me; if my parents ask-”

  “I'll say you fancy me and you wanted to impress me, it's fine. I've got this!”

  “No, that's not-”

  Leo walks towards the door, not once looking back. “I've got this-” He pauses, hand hovering over the door handle as he turns his neck to look at you. “What's your name again?”

  “Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

  Leo grins. “I've got this, Y/N L/N. You can trust me.”

  ----

  You should never have trusted him.

  Arnold doesn't always come banging on your door at nine in the morning, but when he does, you can safely assume the ship is going down. You've hit an ice berg. All hell is breaking loose and there is a ninety percent chance you are going to die.

  So when you are awoken this morning by the sound of him yelling your name, his fists slamming against the mahogany door, you're fairly certain this is it; you are going to die.

  You bolt upright, blinking rapidly. “What? What is it?”

  He stumbles into the room, wrinkled face bright red, sweat dripping down his temples. Slowly waking up lets you realise the ship isn't rocking quite as bad as it should be if you were going down.

  You rub your eyes. “What the hell, Arnold? What's going on?”

  He speaks through gritted teeth, spittle spraying everywhere. “That friend of yours, Leo Valdez; get him under control before I throw him overboard.”

   You blink, certain you've heard him wrong. For just a moment, you've completely forgotten who Leo Valdez actually is, but the moment of peace is shattered when the realisation dawns on you. Yesterday. Bringing that strange boy onto the ship, claiming he was your friend.

  Fuck.

  You stumble out of bed and follow Arnold all the way to the bridge.

  “Why are we here?” you demand, even though you already know the answer, even though you can already hear Leo yelling up above.

  Arnold doesn't respond; he simply shoves you forward and lets you take control of the situation, which is overall just a bad decision on his part. Still dressed in your pyjamas, you stumble through the door, your stomach dropping once you see Leo standing beside Anna, the ships captain, his head bent over the controls, his voice loud.

  “The alignment is way off,” he says. “If you'd just let me have a touch of the wheel, I could-”

   Anna shoves her shoulder into Leo's chest. “Would you fuck off? Who even let you in here?”

  “I found my way here,” Leo replies. “Because I couldn't help but notice that the alignment on your ship is shit, and-”

  You rush forward and grab his arm, pulling him away from Anna before the tall ginger girl can backhand him overboard. Leo stumbles into your grip, whirling around with a frown that quickly morphs into a big, cheeky grin once he sees you.

  “Y/N L/N! My friend! You'll tell your captain here that she should let me have a look at the wheel so I can-”

  “Leo, what the hell are you doing in here? Passengers aren't allowed on the bridge!”

  Leo frowns.

  “You are a passenger, remember?” you hiss. “Now, let's go before-”

  He shakes his head, slowly turning back to the wheel. Your grip tightens on his arm, ready to pull him back if need be. “I'm sorry, Y/N, but do you know how dangerous it is driving a ship with wonky wheel alignment?”

  “We'll call the mechanic in.” You tug his arm. “Let's go, Leo, seriously-”

  “Why would you waste time doing all that when I could just-”

  “Y/N, get him out of here.”

  You groan, finally putting all of your strength behind the next pull on his arm. It's enough to have him stumbling out of the bridge behind you, and you kick the door closed before he can even think of turning back and continuing with his havoc.

  He whirls on you as soon as the door is shut, Anna rushing to lock it. “I just wanted to help!”

  “Leo, do you know how dangerous it is for someone to be distracting the captain whilst she's driving?” You shake your head, running your hands through your hair. “How long have you been awake?”

  “Oh, many hours. Many, many hours. It's hard to sleep when-”

  “When a ship's wheel alignment is off, yes, we all heard you!”

  Leo huffs, folding his arms over his chest; he looks like a toddler, lower lip jutted out, eyes lowered as he kicks  the toe of his boot into the floor. His curls dip into his eyes. He looks kind of cute like this.

  You look away. “What happened to you just staying on the games deck with the retired old people?”

  “Mildred beat me at ping pong last night and told me not to come back.”

  “Leo...”

  He sighs, letting his arms drop to his sides. “Okay, I get it. I stepped out of line. I do that when I'm on edge.”

  You raise a brow. “Why are you on edge?”

  He doesn't respond, which just irks you even more. Trying to get a straight answer out of him is seemingly impossible, so you don't even know why you're bothering – but you are. He just confuses you. There's so much you want to ask, but very little he's willing to share, and you suppose that's fair. It's up to him who he shares his secrets with.

  You decide to start small. “How could you tell the ships alignment was off?”

  A tiny smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, like it's a funny story. “I just know. It's kind of a special skill of mine.”

  “Oh? You spend a lot of time on boats?”

  “No.” He pauses. “Well, not technically, but I built a boat once.”

  You blink, certain you heard him wrong. “Sorry?”

  “The Argo II it was called,” he continues. “I loved that thing.”

  You look at him; he can't be much older than you, surely, and that is much too young to be creating entire ships. You've barely finished school.

  “You built a ship?” you parrot.

  Leo nods, distractedly looking at the soft play area on the games deck. Even at this time of morning, children are running and screaming as they dive from the top of it, landing in the soft blocks at the bottom.

  You, however, turn all your attention on Leo. “You're insane, you know.”

   “I've had my suspicions.”

  “I'm serious; you've just told me you built a ship. Like, an entire vessel, and you're acting like it's no big deal.”

  “It isn't a big deal.” Leo smirks, nudging you with his arm. “Unless, you know, you want it to be a big deal, then I will gladly take the praise.”

  “It is incredible.” You catch yourself and frown. “But you're still insane.”

   Leo laughs. It's a pleasant noise, a little high pitched, a little maniacal, but you find yourself smiling at the sound of it. It ends in a happy little “aaaah,” before Leo turns to you and says, “I really am sorry, by the way. I'll try and stay out of trouble from now on.”

  “Thank you, Leo,” you reply. “Have you had anything to eat yet?”

  Just at that moment, his stomach awakens, growling loudly. He claps his hands against his abdomen and frowns, before turning to you and saying, “Apparently not.”

  “Come on.” You grab his hand and start towards the canteen. “I'll get Esmerelda to make us some breakfast.”

  ----

  Leo can actually be a lot of fun when he isn't trying to rip the controls of the ship from the captain's hands.

  He's funny, which is one thing you didn't expect; he just seemed too jittery in the beginning, forever fiddling with that piece of scrap metal, eyes darting back and forth, like his brain was never working at anything less than one hundred miles an hour.

  He's also very polite, with the occasional sarcastic comment thrown in the direction of someone who looked at him weirdly, which there seems to be a lot of. As the two of you stroll through the ship together, you can't help noticing the eyes that follow you, and honestly, you don't really blame them. Leo certainly is a bit different; he walks with this skip in his step, and his voice is always really loud, even when there's nothing to be loud about. He's still dressed in his oil stained overalls, his curls bouncing around his head with little to no care.

  You don't know why you find it so endearing.

  The two of you spent the day doing everything, and that is no exaggeration. You played ping pong, despite Mildred's protestations that the gaming deck wasn't big enough for both her and Leo. You ate ice cream. In fact, you ate everything, until Arnold was telling you to slow down and make room for dinner later.

  Dinner which you missed as you decided to spend the evening with Leo.

  He took you down to the engine room, claiming to have put some AC in there that wouldn't affect the mechanisms of the boat, but would simply cool the room down enough for him to sleep there.

  “Not like I need it,” he says, flicking on the lights in the corridor leading to the engine room. “I can handle heat.”

  “There's no way you installed an AC system into the engine room in a night,” you reply. “You're not that good.”

   Leo smiles playfully. “See, that's where everyone goes wrong – they underestimate me.” With that, he pushes open the engine room door, revealing everything beyond – the whirring machines, the chugging engines, the steam billowing from contraptions you don't even know the name of, which is a little bit shameful considering you've lived amongst this stuff your entire life.

  Where there should be smouldering heat, there is no such thing. Leo steps into the room and sighs in bliss, closing his eyes. You watch the curls blow away from his forehead. You reach forward, testing the air with your hand.

  Your eyes widen at the feel of cold air brushing against your fingertips.

  “How did you. . . Is this real?”

  Leo opens his eyes and grins, grabbing your outstretched hand and pulling you in after him. “I told you I was good.”

  “Leo, this is . . . You did this in a night?”

  “I did this in. . .” He frowns, glancing at his invisible wrist watch. “About three hours. It was easy enough once I figured out where you keep all your tools.”

   You can't even begin to form words; it's such a simple thing, an AC, but this boy is the same age as you, and he has been here not even a full twenty four hours, and yet he's improving the ship in more ways than you would have dreamed of.

  You turn to him. He looks right back at you. “You're quite good with tools, aren't you?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Where did you learn all of this?”

  “My dad.”

  You raise a brow. “Is he a mechanic?”

  Leo smiles; he does that a lot, though you're yet to learn why. “No. He's in the – uh – higher up's, I guess you could say. My mum was the mechanic.”

  “Was?”

  Leo's smile fades. He coughs and turns away. “Yeah. Was. Now, how about I show you where I slept last night?”

  Without any elaboration, Leo starts towards the back of the room, the hottest part of the entire ship. You remember your dad warning you, time and time again, never to step foot in the engine room at all, but especially not this part of it. You smell the smoke billowing from the coal shafts, hidden behind insulation. You feel the heat, even through the AC, pressing against your skin.

  Once you've walked far enough into the room for the heat to be prominent again, Leo reaches back to stop you going any further. Without looking at you, he says, “Don't think you can go much further than that, I'm afraid; I'll take it from here. I need to grab a few things.”

  You grab his hand. “Wait, you can't-”

  He shakes you off him and steps deeper into the engine room. Your chest constricts, panic seizing you; only professionals have ever wandered this deep into the ships depths, because they know what they're doing. They wear the protective gear. They've trained for years.

  Leo hasn't even been on the ship an entire day.

  “Leo!” you call out, stepping forward as much as you dare. “Leo, this isn't funny! Come back here!”

  “I'm fine.”

  The sound of his voice, unharmed and unwavering, makes the breath leave you. You slouch against the wall, craning your neck in any attempt to see where he is, but you only catch glimpses of his dark curls as he parades back and forth, the sound of metal on metal being heard with absolutely no context.

  You don't understand how anyone can walk so deep into what is essentially a pit of flames and come out unscathed; what's even weirder is the fact that Leo slept in there last night.

  “Please keep talking to me,” you call. “If my dad finds out I let you in here-”

  Leo pops his head around the corner, grinning from ear to ear. Black soot stains his nose, but besides that, he looks unharmed. Around his waist is a velvet tool belt that he definitely was not wearing before. You frown, gesturing towards it vaguely.

  Leo looks down as if only just noticing he'd put the thing on. “Oh, this. It's my tool belt.”

  “Yes, I can see that. But. . . why?”

  Leo shrugs and walks past you. “It's special. Shall we go? Now that you've seen I'm not actually lying when I say I put an AC in-”

 “Which is still insane, by the way.”

  “You've said.”

  Together, the two of you clamber out of the engine room and walk back to the deck. The dinner crowds are just starting to disperse now, people heading out onto the main outdoor deck for a few after dinner drinks with the family. Toddlers are perched on parents shoulders, falling asleep after such a feast. Around you, the lamps are being turned on to illuminate the impending darkness that will soon ensue.

  Leo hums thoughtfully, gazing up at one of the lamps; it's flickering.

  “That one's always been like that,” you say. “Nobody's come to fix it. Nobody really minds it.”

   “It puts the aesthetic off a little bit, doesn't it?” He shakes his head, stopping right in front of it. “No, we can't let that continue.”

   “What are you-”

  He reaches into his tool belt and pulls out a light bulb – just one, the perfect size and shape for the lamps lining the deck. You narrow your eyes, jaw dropping open as Leo starts climbing onto the railing, reaching his small arms above his head to get to work on the lamp in question.

  “Hold my legs, will you?” he calls down to you.

  And even though you're in a daze, growing only more and more confused by this strange man, you lurch forward and wrap your arms around his knees, keeping him from slipping off the edge of the deck and into the murky waters below.

  In seconds, the bulb has been changed and the lamp is working just fine. Leo hops back down beside you, grinning brightly as he tucks his screw driver back into his tool belt.

  You hook a finger through the pocket, tugging him closer so you can peak inside; at first glance, it looks empty, but you're certain that can't be right – he's just put his screw driver inside it. He's just pulled a light bulb out of it. How can it be empty?

  Leo laughs, gently prying your fingers off. “I told you it's special.”

  “Where did the screw driver go?”

  He presses his index finger to his lips. You scowl, swatting his arm until he throws his head back in laughter.

  “I'm glad you're enjoying yourself,” you grumble.

  Leo nudges you, his laughter slowly descending into a simple chuckle. “Oh, lighten up. The screwdriver is in there.”

  “Where?”

  “Somewhere.”

  “Who are you, Leo Valdez? Where the hell have you come from?”

  He swipes his tongue along the inside of his cheek, deep in thought for a moment. Finally, he turns to you and says, “I'd have to kill you if I told you.”

   “Or I'd have to kill you.”

  His eyes sparkle. “Or that, yes.”

  ----

  “We don't even know what they are. We've never had a warning signal like this before.”

  “Let me see.”

  Your dad shoves to the front and ducks his head down to see into the flashing screen in the control room; an emergency alarm had gone off in your room only moments before, startling you from a peaceful sleep. Another night spent traipsing through the ship with Leo had left you utterly exhausted, but hearing that high pitched beep woke you into full alert. You joined both your parents and the rest of the crew in the control room in seconds.

  “It's in the shape of a trident,” Arthur, one of the control experts, says, pointing at the glowing trident flashing on screen. “What could that even mean? Who's sending that?”

  Your dad frowns. “I have no idea. Is it some kind of prank?”

  “There are no other boats around for miles, sir. None are even showing up on the radar.”

  You fiddle with your fingers. You hate this unpredictability, especially when you're so far out to sea. There is nobody here to help you if all goes wrong, and anyone who can help is miles away; the ship will surely be in tatters by the time anyone can reach you.

  Your dad sighs, raking his nimble fingers through his slowly greying hair. “It's okay. It's okay. We'll figure it out.” He turns and catches your eye, stopping midway. “Y/N, go back to bed.”

  “What's happening?” you ask.

  “Nothing terrible.” He places a hand on your shoulder, gazing into your eyes lovingly, but it doesn't matter how he wants to play it off – you can recognise fear in your fathers eyes, and it's there now. He hates the unpredictability just as much as you do. “Go back to bed and get some sleep; if anything happens, I'll come wake you in plenty of time.”

   “What about the passengers?”

  He raises a brow. “Is this about your little friend Leo? Arnold was telling me all about him.”

  Your cheeks heat up, and you flick your eyes to the floor.

  Your dad sighs, squeezing your shoulder. “The passengers will be safe, too, Y/N. I wouldn't have kept my family on this ship if we didn't have the most state of the art safety precautions put in place. It's going to be fine. Don't stress about it.”

   Don't stress.

  That's so easy for him to say having been trained in the art of keeping a straight face for other people. You, not so much.

  Nonetheless, you leave the control room and head back out onto the deck. Your exhaustion is finally starting to creep up on you, but you know you won't be able to sleep. You'll sit in bed, tossing and turning with the waves, and your night will be made into hell; you don't really fancy that right now.

  And so, you walk along the outside deck, hair blowing around, the lanterns up above illuminating the path you have memorised by now; in fact, you truly think you would be able to walk through this very area in pitch darkness without a care in the world. The metal beneath your feet is so familiar, holding stories from your childhood, bringing you back to a time when you would walk across here, holding your parents hands, wondering why on earth anyone would want to live life on land over the sea.

  “I thought you'd gone to bed.”

  Your eyes snap up. You have to narrow them to see clearly, but you can make out the shape of Leo Valdez sitting on the edge of the railing, his feet dangling over the water, his knuckles white with his grip. His curls are windswept, brushed over his forehead. His cheeky smile is on full show, his glittering eyes running up and down your form before finally meeting your own.

  He frowns when he sees your expression.

  Quickly you avert your gaze, tucking your hands into the pockets of your massive hoodie; you don't even know where you got it from, just that you found it laying on the floor and threw it on before barrelling through the halls to see what all the commotion was about.

  “Is that my hoodie?”

  Your cheeks heat up despite the cold night chill. “No.”

  “Pretty sure it is.”

  “So what?”

  “Looks good on you.”

  You mumble a thank you.

  “You gonna tell me what's got you so glum?”

  You hollow out your cheeks, kicking a pretend stone. You imagine it flicking beneath the railing, landing in the water to make those mini waves you were once so fond of.

  The railing creaks as Leo turns his body to face you. “Hey. You alright?”

  “I'm okay,” you mumble. “Can I sit up there with you?”

  Leo holds out his arms. You waddle over, letting him pull you onto the railing beside him. Once you're seated, he keeps one arm around your waist, holding you close to ensure you don't fall head first into the water; you should probably let him know that you used to sit on this very railing every single night, that you know how to keep yourself up, but you don't. You instead move a little closer to him.

  “What's on your mind, champ?” he asks, jokingly ruffling your hair.

  You scrunch up your nose, swatting his hand away. “Just worried, that's all.”

  “Worried about what?”

  “The ship. The journey. We got a warning signal sent through to us, but no one on the crew knows what it means; they've never seen it before.”

  Leo's eyebrows knit together. “How have they never seen it before?”

  You shrug. “I've been asking myself that, too. My only guess is that someone's hacked the system from another boat and is sending random symbols through to mess with us, but Arthur said there's not another boat for miles.”

  “What did this warning signal look like?”

  “It was like that. . . that thing.”

  Leo leans forward, meeting your eyes; he looks almost desperate, his tan skin suddenly pale. “What thing?”

  “You know.” You click your fingers, trying desperately to remember the name. “That thing that god used to hold all the time. The . . . The big water stick.”

  Leo's eyes flash. He jerks back, arm falling from your waist so fast you nearly tumble into the water. “A trident?”

  “That's the word.”

  “Oh, gods.”

  Before you can say or do anything, Leo spins around and hops off the railing. He reaches up and grabs you, pulling you back into his chest, setting you on the floor despite your squeal of shocked protest.

  “Leo, what the-”

  “Go back to your cabin and don't leave,” he demands. “I mean it, Y/N. Lock the doors if you have to. Only come out when I say.”

  You blink, completely lost by now. Part of you wants to burst out laughing, certain all of this is some big joke, but Leo's eyes are wide, and he's breathing heavily, and you've never seen him act like this. Ever.

  “Leo...”

  “Go, Y/N!” He scrapes one hand through his hair, the other dipped into his tool belt. He mutters to himself as he pulls out the most random of things; bubble wrap, a pack of Tik Taks, a Stephen King book, multiple wrenches, one of which he throws overboard as his frustration grows.

  You grab his wrist. “Please explain what's going on.”

  His eyes shoot up. “I don't. . . . I can't really explain it without sounding crazy.”

  “You sound crazy all the time.”

  “Fair.” He pauses, glancing around nervously, before he leans in and says, “You ever heard about the Greek gods?”

  You pull away, frowning. “Leo, I'm being serious. You looked really scared-”

  “Have you ever heard about the Greek gods, Y/N? I'm asking a serious question.”

  “Of course I have, but-”

  “Heard of Hephaestus?”

  “Yes, but-”

  “Well, I call him dad.”

  You blink. Leo doesn't stop moving, continuing the search for whatever he's looking for inside his never ending tool belt. Under his breath, he mutters, “Please, please, please don't let it be them. Please, please, please.”

  Your silence must span an awful long time, though it only feels like seconds before Leo is flicking his eyes up, frowning and saying, “Why are you still standing there?”

  “What the hell does Hephaestus – the Greek guy – have to do with the warning signal we got?”

  “Oh, yeah, I could explain that, I guess.” He tugs another wrench out of his pocket and rolls his eyes, tossing it into the ocean. “That makes me a demigod; my mum's a mortal, my dad's. . . . Hephaestus. That means loads of monsters are constantly on my ass literally all the time.” He sends a pointed glare at the ocean. “I must have done something to tick off the sea nymphs-”

  “Sea nymphs?”

  “Because they've all been trying to kill me for weeks!”

  You shake your head. “Is that what you were running away from-”

  “When you saved me? Yes, it was, and thank you for that, really. Means a lot.” He grabs your arm, swirling you towards the exit. “Now, please let me return the favour by staying in your cabin.”

  He pushes you forward. You stumble, catching yourself on the door before spinning back to face him. “So you think these. . . these sea nymphs have found you? That's what the warning signal was?”

  “It makes the most sense,” Leo replies. “Rookie mistake on their part; they're giving me a lovely head start on-”

  Something slams into the underside of the ship.

  You're thrown into Leo, chest smashing against chest, chins smashing against chins. You're a tangle of limbs when you land on the floor, Leo on his back with you on top of him. Neither of you have a chance to even be embarrassed, though, before a melodic voice is drifting up from the waves, so appealing that it nearly drives you directly over the edge just to go and find it. It lifts your spirits. Everything is right in the world so long as you continue to hear this lovely, lovely voice. . .

  “Snap out of it!” Leo grabs your arm, pulling you to your feet. “Okay, so they have definitely found me.”

  “Come to us, son of Hephaestus, and we shall spare the innocent mortals on this ship.”

  Leo groans. “Always with the bargaining! Can't you guys just die already?”

  Your eyes widen. Your hands are trembling. This is too much for you to handle. “Leo, please don't make them angry.” You glance over the railing, seeing nothing but the swirling waters below. “Uh, hello, friendly sea nymphs; he doesn't mean that. He's a little bit cranky right now because he hasn't slept much, but I promise-”

  Leo hisses, tugging you away from the edge. “Would you just-”

  Another wave crashes against the ship, knocking you and Leo to the side. Your shoulder slams into the glass, and this time, the sirens go off. The entire ship is notified of danger. Soon, every deck on the ship will be flooded with innocent people, people who have no idea that any of this is going on, people who could potentially be in danger if these mystical sea nymphs don't get exactly what they're asking for.

  Leo curses, scrambling upright. “Okay, maybe we don't have as much of a head start as I thought we did.”

  “You think?”

  Another wave. Your feet slip from beneath you, sending you sprawling. Leo cries out your name, scrambling for your hand, but he's just as drenched as you are. He slips, crashing to his knees as you slide down the length of the deck, scrambling for anything to hold onto. Eventually, your feet crash against a barrel lodged against the wall, stopping your impending doom for a few moments longer. Below, passengers are screaming, and you can't even bring yourself to think about what is happening to them, what they must be seeing right now.

  “Leo!” you cry out, choking on water. “Leo, where are you?”

  “Leo Valdez is ours,” the melodic voice chimes in. “He has taken our existence as a joke for far too long; it's about time our people show him some respect.”

  “Okay, okay!” You gag, fighting to keep your head above the waves splashing into your face. “I get it! He's a little shit, but please, give him one more chance. I'll – I'll keep him in check as best I can. I'll-”

  “We don't want to hear it.”

  The ship rocks again. People scream. One more hit, and you're certain they're gonna go through the hull. One more hit, and this entire ship is going to go down, taking thousands of innocent passengers – and Leo – down with it.

  You can't let that happen.

  With difficulty, you lift yourself from the grip of the waves coursing along the deck. You do one final check for Leo, but he is nowhere to be seen – you can't even hear him, which really just confirms the severity of this situation. You need to do something quick.

  You say a silent prayer to Hephaestus, and you feel stupid for it, but you're willing to do anything right now just to make sure you get to see Leo's face again, that stupid grin of his, those bouncing curls you never got to touch because you were always so afraid it would seem too intimate.

  “Please save your son. Please let him be okay.”

  You spin on your heel and dart towards the exit.

  Throwing yourself into a crowd of screaming people is jarring, but you push through. Shoving your shoulder into anyone who gets in the way, you sprint for the bridge. You throw open the door, grab Anna's shoulders and push her out of the way. She stumbles, but she doesn't even have the energy to say anything to you; when you glance at her, you can see her pale face and wide eyes, her hands trembling as she utters, “I don't know what's happening,” over and over, a woman traumatised before she's even seen the severity of the danger.

  You turn back to the wheel and inhale deeply. You've done this before. You know what these controls mean. You have gripped this wheel plenty of times, steered this boat enough times to know what to do. Your hands tremble. Your mind is blank, but maybe that's for the best.

  You grip the wheel. As soon as your hands make contact, that voice drifts back into your consciousness, startling you to reality.

  “Son of Hephaestus is ours. In a battle, water always wins over fire.”

  You grit your teeth and yank the steering wheel. Passengers scream, but it's not their screams you're focused on. In the back of your mind, like the sea nymphs are right behind you, you can hear them squealing as the ship is yanked from whatever grip they have on it; you like to imagine you broke their arms or something.

  “Curse you!” they screech. “Mind your own business, mortal!”

  You yank the wheel again. Anna flies across the room, crashing against the window, screaming your name, but you have to keep going. You have to dislodge the ship from their magic before they take over entirely.

  You yank the wheel one last time, and finally the ship lurches forward. Passengers scream. Anna starts sobbing desperately, begging you for mercy, and the sound is heart-breaking; you don't understand why she can't hear the sea nymphs herself, because when they speak, they are clear as day in your head.

  “I'm sorry,” you grit out. “I'll explain later.”

  And then you slam your hand into that big red button on the dashboard. The propellers erupt, jumping into high gear. In your head, the sea nymphs scream. Outside, an explosion rocks the ocean, shaking the ship just a little bit before you press the engine button and send the ship forward.

  For a second, the world is quiet. Your headache fades away. The passengers are all silent, waiting for the next heart wrenching move to be made.

  You pry your hands off the wheel, spin on your heel and sprint out of the bridge.

  On deck, people cower on the floor. There are head wounds, and unconscious individuals, and you promise you'll apologise to all of them individually when you next see them, but for now, you need to see Leo. You need to make sure he's okay. You need to know that none of that was in vain.

  You sprint back to the outdoor deck, slipping only briefly on the water still crowded upon it. The ship rocks back and forth gently now, sloshing the water over the edge, making it easier to wade through it in search of the Valdez boy.

  “Leo!” you cry out. “Leo, where are you?”

  For just a moment, nothing happens. You are convinced the deck is empty. The tears erupt to the surface, spilling over your eyelids before you can stop them, because you're certain you've failed. You got rid of the sea nymphs – only by the grace of god – but you were too late to save Leo.

  And then something flickers in the far corner, just behind an overturned barrel.

  You squint, heart stopping in your chest. Part of you thinks you imagined it. That is until the flames flicker again, followed shortly by a groan of protest.

  You gasp and dart forward. You slip to your knees in the water, grabbing the barrel and rolling it out the way. Laying on his side beneath it is Leo, blood pooling from his side, a tiny flame dancing in the palm of his hand.

  You don't even question the fire right now – you can't. You press your trembling palms to the wound in his hip, biting your bottom lip in any attempt to look tough, but it's really no use – you're terrified. You don't know what you just did, how much damage you just caused, but you know for a fact it's going to take a lot of explaining to get you out of this one. You can already hear Arnold scolding you for letting Leo onto the boat, into your life. Someone like him is such a bad influence.

  But then his soft brown eyes flicker open, and you don't really care.

  A sob slips from your lips. Tears slip down your cheeks. When you speak, your voice wobbles, on the verge of cracking.

  “I thought you were dead. I thought I was too late, Leo.”

  He groans, more like a man getting out of bed than a man who's just had a piece of timber sliced through his hip. “I will be if you don't get me some nectar right now.”

  You pull back. “What?”

  “Nectar.” He clicks his fingers and points at his tool belt. “In there. Grab it for me, will you?”

  You dip your trembling hands into his belt, plucking out a gold bar about the size of your index finger. As soon as Leo sees it's unwrapped, he snatches it from your hand and pops the entire thing in his mouth, sighing in bliss once he's swallowed it.

  “You can let go of me now,” he says.

  “Huh?”

  He chuckles weakly, before wrapping his soft, gentle fingers around your wrists and pulling your hands away from his hip. Instead of letting you go, however, he holds them close to his chest, leaning his chin on your knuckles so the two of you can watch as the wound stitches itself up in slow motion.

  Your heart thunders. “So you weren't lying when you said you were the son of Hephaestus.”

  “I wish I had been lying.”

  “I think it's pretty cool.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” You swallow thickly. “Just don't be bringing that sort of trouble to my door again, or I'll throw you overboard.”

  ----

  Leo got his own cabin once your parents saw the damage he took.

  You were able to play it off as him having no part in the havoc. To your parents, and everybody else concerned, Leo was nothing more than a victim in the entire ordeal. Your parents lodged him in one of the spare cabins, giving him the medical treatment he needed, despite the nectar doing most of the job for him. All he was really suffering with was a bit of muscle pain, but for the size of wound he suffered with, you feel like he got away lucky in the end.

  You've been visiting him most nights, just because. His company is nice, and he seems to enjoy yours, and the two of you get on really well. You kind of dread the day you're going to dock in Northern Ireland, the day he's going to clamber off the boat and never look back. He'll probably forget about you.

  That thought really, really hurts, so you try not to think about it.

  Today, you decide to bring him some croissants Anna made. The plate balanced in your hand, you raise your other one to knock on his cabin door, only to freeze when you hear someone else's voice ringing through the dimly lit corridor.

  “So they just. . . killed the sirens on their own? Where the hell were you, Valdez?”

  “I already told you, Jason, I was completely out of it. I got hit with a wave and went flying backwards, right into a piece of broken wood. It went through me.”

  “Still. It's not everyday a mortal takes on a mythological monster on their own; how did they even see them?”

  Leo sighs. His bed springs creak. “I have no idea, but it was incredible. They're incredible.”

  Your heart flutters, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

  “Sounds like you've lost the battle, Valdez,” the unfamiliar voice says.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean. It sounds like you really like them.”

  Leo pauses. Your heart thunders; you shouldn't be so anxious to hear his response, but you'd be lying to claim otherwise.

  “I do.”

  You close your eyes, biting your lower lip.

  “Gods, Jason, I think I do. I don't even want to get off this boat.”

  “Man, you can't just go travelling through the sea your entire life.”

  “I know. I know.” Leo sighs again. “Maybe they'll agree to come with me; you guys are still sending that chariot to come pick me up from Northern Ireland, right?”

  “That's still the plan, yes.”

  “Do you think Y/N will come with me?”

  This Jason fellow pauses. Part of you wants to burst in the room and cry out “OF COURSE I'LL GO WITH YOU” but you hold yourself back, because would you really ever leave?

  Yes. Yes, you would.

  “Ask them,” Jason finally says. “But Leo, you realise long distance could work, right?”

  Leo scoffs. “Slow down there, pal. I don't even know if they like me back.”

  “You just told me you saw them crying over you when you came to.”

  “Emotions were high. They'd just killed some sea nymphs for the first time.”

  “Take it from me, Leo – they like you. All evidence points towards it.”

  Leo grumbles something beneath his breath before finally saying, “They'll probably be here soon, man, so I should go.”

  “Oh yes. The nightly visit. Have fun. Be safe.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Bye.”

  Jason laughs. “Bye.”

  You take a few moments just to breathe; you're overjoyed, which is a weird feeling for you to have. The days following the sea nymph attack, you spent the majority of your time either in Leo's cabin or your own, struggling to come to terms with everything you did, all the people you hurt, the truth that was brought to your attention. It was such a struggle getting your head around it, and trying to certainly put you in a slump.

  But hearing this piece of good news has lifted your spirits, if just a little bit.

  Once you believe you've gathered your wits, you knock on Leo's door. He says, “Hellooooo?” and you enter, giving him the most subtle smile you can muster whilst showing off the plate of croissants.

  He sits up in his bed, the quilt falling from his chest; he's wearing a pair of cloud patterned pyjamas, provided by the laundry department of the crew. He rubs his eyes, trying to pretend he's just woken up, even though you know better than to believe him.

  You place the croissants on the table beside him before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He smiles at you, warm and a little bit awkward, so unlike the smiles he usually gives you. You can only assume it has something to do with the conversation you accidentally eavesdropped on.

  “What's wrong?”

  His smile falters. “What?”

  “You look a little weird.” You lean back against the footboard, folding your arms over your chest. “Something you want to tell me, Leonardo Valdez?”

  “That's really not my name.”

   You raise a brow, waiting for him to answer the question.

  He stares back at you, an eyebrow arched. “I really have no idea what you're talking about.”

  “Who's Jason?”

  Leo isn't even smiling any more – his expression is one of complete dread. “Are you kidding?”

  You giggle, nudging his foot. “Who is he? A friend of yours? He seems nice. Can I talk to him?”

  Leo throws his head back, crinkling his eyes shut as his cheeks burn a bright red colour. “Don't start. Did you actually hear all that?”

  “I was outside the door with my croissants. Heard every word.”

  “I'm gonna throw myself overboard.”

  “You can't do that.”

  Leo cracks open an eye, glaring at you like you've done something wrong. “I'll do whatever I damn well find necessary.”

  “If you throw yourself overboard, I'll never get to go to Northern Ireland with you.”

  Leo's head snaps up. “Wait-”

  But you push on. “If you throw yourself overboard, I'll never get to tell you that I like you, too.”

  “Y/N-”

  “If you throw yourself overboard, I'll never get to kiss you.”

  Leo swallows, eyes dipping to your lips. “Okay. You've got me convinced.”

  You kiss him.

  His hands travel to your jaw, calloused fingertips like butterfly kisses against your jaw bone. Your own hands find their way into his curls, a place they've wanted to be from the very day you met him. The kiss is small, timid, testing the waters more than anything else, but it's perfect just the way it is. Leo grins against your lips like he's won some award, the cat who got the cream. You're half tempted to pull away and tell him to stop being so cocky, but you decide against it when the feel of his lips drags you back to the moment.

  You pull away. “You should have told me you liked me.”

  “It works both ways.”

  “Fair.”

  Leo scoots over, patting the free space next to him. You bundle yourself beneath the covers, shoulder-to-shoulder with him, facing the cabin window; together, you watch the sea rise and fall, rise and fall, sending the mildly damaged boat to it's final destination.

  “I can fix the hull, you know,” he says. “It'll take me an hour at most.”

  “I know you can.” You tilt your head against his, inhaling deeply. “But I think I like you here a bit better.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mm.”

  He wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. “Guess I'm bedridden for a bit longer, then.”

  ----

  Northern Ireland is really pretty.

  Leo Valdez is even prettier.

  He holds your hand as the two of you get off the boat. An emotional goodbye to your parents (and Arnold) has left your eyes puffy and your mood a little dipped, but your spirits are slowly beginning to rise with the realisation that a brand new chapter in your life has finally opened, and Leo is there to help you navigate through it.

  He squeezes your fingers as the two of you stand on the harbour, watching your home drift back to New York. The stars sprinkle the sky, little rips in the night sky, slightly dulled by the street lights dotting the Belfast docks.

  “You'll be back there soon,” Leo says. “I promise. I haven't kidnapped you.”

  You laugh. You're always laughing with Leo. “I know. It's just different.”

  “Yeah. I can imagine.”

  You swipe a hand beneath your eyes. Your home is now a mere dot in the distance. “Are your friends here yet?”

  “Probably.” Leo glances at his non existent wristwatch. “I can imagine they'll be making a pretty bold entrance right. . . about. . . now.”

  On queue, a golden ball of light emerges from the night sky. You flick your eyes around desperately, but the harbour is completely clear besides you, Leo and the dock worker who is too busy tapping away on his iPad to pay much attention to the spiralling ball of gold currently impending upon the dock.

  The chariot crashes to the floor, shaking the trees and the wood beneath it. Leo is grinning, his hand squeezing your own a little tighter in his excitement; it's been weeks since he last saw his friends, and from the stories he's so keen on telling you, his friends are more like his family.

  “That's them,” he needlessly points out.

  Together, you walk to the golden chariot. Six other demigods spill out of it, two of them slapping each other's arms, bickering about something.

  “-landed a little more gracefully.”

  “Oh okay, Percy, how about next time, you try controlling the wind with Frank snoring behind you!”

  “Maybe I will! I'd probably do a better job than-”

  Leo raises his hand. “Hey guys!”

   All six of the demigods spin around, their arguments now ceasing to exist as they catch sight of you and Leo. A girl with choppy, braided hair takes one look at your joined hands and immediately covers her cheeks, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Oh, I thought Jason was lying!” She throws herself into Leo's arms. “I'm so proud of you!”

  “Thanks, Pipes,” Leo grunts. “Good to see you, too.”

  “And you!” 'Pipes' squeals, throwing herself into your arms next. “You're so pretty! How on the gods green earth did Leo catch your eye?”

  “Woah, okay!” Leo pushes Piper away, scowling. “Leave them alone for a bit, alright? We're both tired.”

  “I'm sure you are,” the blonde haired boy in the purple shirt chuckles. “Come on. How about we go get some McDonalds?”

  The big dude with the baby face narrows his eyes, glancing over his shoulder at the golden chariot. “Can we get that through a drive through?”

  “We can if I drive!” Percy exclaims, snatching the keys off the blonde boy and darting to the front seat.

  The other demigods grumble their horrors, clearly not pleased with the idea of Percy driving, but they follow him anyway.

  Leo and you hang back a little bit. Leo squeezes your hand. When you look over, he gives you a wary smile.

  “Welcome to the family, I guess.”

[chiimmchiimm]

❝𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁𝓂𝒶𝓉𝑒 !¡ 𝒿𝓀❞

The god Ares the Olympus had become too small, envious of his brother Hefesto for having found his soul mate can not help but think how lonely he really is. Everyone feared him for being the god of war, not everyone would be so brave to love being the bearer of destruction and violence. Destined to suffer decades of loneliness, he is pleading with his brother Apollo to speak to him about the land. The sun god stunned by his brother’s sadness tells him about a girl born to a king whose rumors dictate that her beauty could rival the goddess Aphrodite. Desperate Ares pleads with the god to follow the story. The god of war is so in love with her that when he first sees her he can’t help but think that he had found his soul mate.

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jungkookgod x (female: Lina) 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: smut, fluff, angst, one-shot, greek god au. 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 25 k 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔: +18 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: dirty vocabulary, insults that only the gods understand, rather macho insults, Greek artifacts, real duties, sexual attraction, violent assaults, blood, sexy scar, beatings, idialization for love, unrequited excess love (at first), sexy tunics with everything in the air, strange spells, fights (the protagonist is the god of war that you expected?), jealousy, a lot of jealousy, enemy, envy, theft of women, situations of frustrated love, war, desperation to be loved, Greek vocabulary, hormones gods through the clouds, sex everywhere, tongue kisses, rough sex, female fingering, teeth marks, loss of virginity, female oral, male oral, scratches on the back, spectacular body, abs out of this world . 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒: Honestly, I always wanted to make a short story for members with the theme of Greek gods because soon they are not tremendous gods fallen from the sky? I adore Greek mythology and if this part goes well I am thinking of doing a series with all the members.

Life on Olympus was full of joy and gladness everywhere, the gods enjoyed immortality with humble decorum. Each and every one of them was responsibly involved in their duties from the first magenta ray of dawn to the blue-white night in the moonlight. Happy Without any regret. Being a god had many advantages. Obtaining the free management of their life almost always gave them full satisfaction, they could enjoy passionate sex, the stoic feeling of love, and all the food and wine available. However, there were always two sides not the same coin. They could do their work without limits, exhausting to the extreme all their deepest desires in humans.

That was the problem in question.

Humans were easy to win, most gods were revered and idealized for what they were, superior supernatural creatures in any term. Each season. Every day. They were prayed for by every mortal who prided himself on wanting his favors. Some prayed to Hera for good harvests that year, others to Aphrodite for luck in the love or fertility of new offspring. Another matter were those who anxiously wished that the most cruel and bloody god would hear their prayers. Ares received hundreds of demands, some from ambitious men who wanted blood for the sake of territorial accommodation, others however, for other severely more noble matters. Just as humans were too influential, they were also too spiteful. If any of their requests did not come to fruition they would destroy the altars angrily for having been ignored. The god of war who was very proud punished anyone who tainted his good name and work.

Everyone loved the good gods, and everyone, everyone, hated Ares for his thirst for destruction. That fear of being benefited by his anger was what kept more than one away. No one wanted to approach him for fear of being reciprocated with fury. His character was known to many as the fairest, but also the most explosive. His own royal brothers not to be spattered by the fire that came out of his eyes kept away focusing on their work.

This was how he became completely alone. The gods ignored him. There came a time when the only voice he heard was the one originating in his head. The humans had stopped praying to him for worship just to do it when they wanted his enormous favors from God.

His heart was emptying more and more. A great dark pit as deep as tartar was built dangerously over time. To the point, of having taken away the taste of his life in paradise. The only satisfaction he had was when he punished a criminal and sent him to his uncle Hades. But all that light was shallow, a blanket covering his true ambitions.

And is that the god was sick of being alone.

"Humans are impatient for this year's crops, Demeter," the all-powerful god of thunder commented briefly. The woman, beautiful as a rose petal in spring, tossed her long blonde hair, then nodded with innate elegance.

"I have already started to melt the northern frosts, brother." I assure with a smile almost as dazzling as his the god Apollo sitting in one of the gods' chairs. Every day, before Jimin the Moon God, will rest definitively to give way to the lucid awakening of the dark blue sky, the gods gathered to make sure that the functions were well attended. There had not yet been a time when the gods had escaped from their labors. Exercising the role of god of gods, Hoseok or Zeus as he was well known to mortals, he made a small reminder to his children and brothers that they all fulfill their obligations.

"I trust Apollo will help you carefully," Hoseok said, capturing the enthusiastic attention of the sun god.

"You know father that I love to heat the atmosphere."

"Yes, but be careful nephew lest you evaporate my beloved seas," his Uncle Jin, or vilely human-named Posidon, gracefully exposed from his relaxed position in one of the armchairs next to Hoseok.

Giving a knowing smile to the rogue's double meanings, Taehyung shifted his gaze to his other son, Yoongi, the god of fire.

"I will keep fires away from tall wheat grasses."

"And I will see to it that the productivity of mortals is increased to increase the number of children born." The goddess of love, Julia spoke sweetly, sliding her thin and soft arm to hook it on the body of her husband Yoongi. Hoseok nodded in agreement with the extensive collaboration that had been present. If everything went as he really wanted, in the end they would be in a good year. All the joy seemed to vanish almost as fast as a leaf blown by the wind. Hoseok couldn't help but notice Ares's position so low. Accustomed to his comments on the foolish decisions of humans, seeing him in silence, with his mouth closed, absent from the conversation because he was engulfed in his deep unsatisfied desires, had caused the god great sadness.

“Jungkook?” When his father spoke his name so tenderly the god came out of his thoughts. His brothers watched him in sorrow, his face turned pale these days, taking with him his rosy cheeks so charming. "A great war will soon break through. I trust that you will know how to condemn tyrants and save clean souls."

"Yes, father." I speak out of obligation. He had been tortured in a dark solitude for so long that he had almost forgotten what it was like to hear someone else's voice, and darkly what the tone of his hoarse voice was like.

The meeting passed peacefully for a couple more hours until Jimin passed through the two large columns, breaking into the main discussion room. The gods quickly dispersed to attend to their labors. Ares got up slowly, almost without strength from the little desire he had to start the day when he knew that again, he would be alone again. Hoseok tried to hold him back with some silly topic of conversation in which the older god asked him how life on earth was, if there were many fights and many trials to carry out. Ares, making full use of his intelligence, discovered the true intentions of Zeus, so it did not take him long to leave. He knew deep within his chest that although his father's intentions were pure, he should not forget that he was the eldest god and that therefore, if Jungkook told him that lately he had been evading his functions, the god would get angry and shout at him for what he was doing. irresponsible it was in his carelessness.

Ares under the stairs of the Olympus with decay. Not even the enthusiastic light of his brother Apollo made him change his sad face. Even more so when he saw from afar the love scene of Hephaestus and Aphrodite. Ares sighed resigned drowning in his own envy. Even Hephaestus, a one-eyed and toothless being, had found his soul mate. So why was he not so lucky? He was the most handsome god on Olympus. All the goddesses wished they had him between their legs. His manhood was highly known to everyone. But there was a detail that overshadowed all its virtues. He was Ades, the god of war and brutality in battle. No one really stopped to know its interior. They always judged him in the worst way, carving him out to be a naturally evil being who enjoyed the cries of his war victims. He was so much more than that and he wanted to find someone brave enough to cross those borders.

“What bothers you so much, Jungkook?” Apollo listened, concerned by the look so dark in his lowered eyes. The gloom seemed to take its toll on an invisible cloud that gave it no rest. Even, overshadowed by the intense blinding light Tae was exposing with his natural light, he was unable to illuminate his sad soul.

"Nothing, Tae."

"Remember that I see everything," Apollo recalled, trying to cancel the negative vibration his brother breathed. He touched his forehead with his finger in a small touch so joyous that Ares felt a little better.

"Have you ever fallen in love?"

"Yes, many times." More than I can count on my hands. In fact ... - I ended up closing my mouth slowly as the cloud of bitterness grew. Apollo shrugged his shoulders in distress at the shadow that consumed his body. "Is that why you left your work aside and you want to fall in love?"

Jungkook's cheeks turned to their usual pink color feeling almost indebted for his time not attending to them. Luckily, Tae was not rebuking him, what's more, the Sun God played a small smile softened by finding the true reasons for his pain.

"Jungkook, you have really stupendous goddesses behind your robes. I wouldn't worry about that."

But Ares huffed annoyed.

"They don't seek to occupy my heart they only care to occupy my bed." The fire was drawn with fury in his eyes. Apollo was the protagonist of how his jaw clenched. From the tension of his broad shoulders. And from the veins marked by its strong and compact arms.

"And what are you looking for?" Jungkook felt a little better, in confidence with the Sun God, because he knew that he didn't ask for malicious reasons, he knew that his question had come out with the sole intention of giving him some support.

"Someone brave with character but cautious. I am looking for someone with a pure heart who is unconditionally given to me. A pale woman who does not want me because of how big my cock is, but because of who I am." he recited the list so nostalgically feeling much better when he spread it out loud. Feeling at peace taking her out of the heart at last. But suddenly, the emotion faded again like flowers in winter. Her red-hot heart froze again when she fell silent in reality. "But I know that there is no woman in the world who can accomplish such things."

"Actually ... if there is," Tae mentioned rather thoughtfully. Making an effort to find the words he would say next knowing that it would depend on Jungkook returning to his former self. "There are rumors about the land of a girl born to a king whose beauty is worthy of being compared to Aphrodite. She is so famous her beautiful body as is her fair and benevolent character. Personally I have never seen her but if you want I can tell you where she goes every day to refresh herself. "

It was at that moment that Ares's heart beat again. More than ever. Its bitter shadow was replaced by a wonderful aura so attractive that every god became a spectator of its great strength. Apollo continued his duties after telling Jungkook the exact coordinates of the pond where the girl took a break a day. The god ripped off a piece of cloud to climb it and thus get down to earth without being seen. On the way he met his mother Hera, who could not stop smiling at seeing him so full of hope.

He decided to wait in heaven to avoid any encounter with a mortal. This was no time to entertain yourself with stupid requests. I wait and wait patiently lying on his cloud watching the mortals walk without being aware that the god of war was watching them. The place where his brother had directed him was quite spacious, full of exotic vegetation, plants and shrubs full of blue flowers that harmoniously combined with the crystal clear water of the pond. Jungkook rested his head on one hand feeling increasingly bored. Hours had passed since his arrival and he had only seen an old man pass by carrying a huge basket on his head and two girls playing chasing a frog. Tired of waiting, he almost gave up on his purpose. He felt sad again. The heart began to suffer a blizzard storm that gradually began to freeze it. Snorting in exhaustion, he stood on the cloud again. But just before returning to Olympus, a pure laugh as the divinity itself hit her ears causing her to search for the desperate sound.

Her jaw dropped in so much beauty. Apollo said that her beauty could be compared to Aphrodite. Ares thought that there was no possible comparison because no one would ever overcome the light from his smile. Hypnotized by the sensual dance that his pale legs did when walking, the god fell again to the cloud to continue admiring the woman. He soaked in her features as delicate as honey, as soft as the summer breeze. Her wonderful brown hair waved to mid-waist. The dress was loose but it stuck so well to her curves by the movement of the wind that it intimately marked the silhouette of her perfect body. Ares swore he had never seen so much symmetry together, not even in Aphrodite. There was no one to match its natural beauty.

Ares was so in love with her laugh that he was about to commit the stupidity of showing himself. Luckily, the raucous scream of a crumbling old woman stopped her daring.

"Lina! Do not run so much girl that the legs of this old woman do not give for more!”

The woman came down the hill, carefully crushing her feet on the ground with her hands lifting her skirt to avoid getting caught. Jungkook sighed in love when he finally discovered the beautiful girl's name. Lina smiled at the old woman on her way to the pond. The fish came out to greet her with joy. Even the animals came to greet her. There was such a pure aura around him. So clean.

From that day on, the god came down every morning to observe her. I saw how he enjoyed splashing in the water. How she wet her dress and didn't care at all. Weeks. He could even swear that months had passed since their meetings. His life had returned to how it was before. Zeus had seen his son laugh, comment, joke again and could not feel happier. The only one who knew about his recent crush was Apollo. It was him who recounted all his feelings, how good it did him to see her even from afar. On one occasion, he told the sun god that he wanted to woo her. To come down from his hiding place and declare himself. For obvious reasons Apollo was surprised by Ares's devotion to a girl he had only seen from afar. But Ares insisted again. I place her above every goddess or mortal, no one could match her bright smile. That day, Ares confessed that he had found his soul mate. That he knew it was her and that he would do whatever was in his power to hand over the world to her if she asked him to.

One summer day, he went down as usual with his cloud at the agreed time. Jungkook patiently waited for it to appear. For the first time, the god felt nervous. The butterflies in his stomach fluttered uneasily at his suspicious delay. Jungkook felt sad when the sun went down and did not appear. Jimin climbed to the top of the sky darkening every corner of the garden. The shadows had disappeared almost as much as his good humor. I worry. In all the months he had been observing her, he never missed his appointment. Her chest clenched as the possibility that something had happened to her became more and more likely.

“Lina!” The old woman's desperate voice made him move quickly to the other end of the cloud. Ares smiled, recovering his hopes of seeing her before returning to Olympus. Her smile fell as fast as it formed when she heard his sobs come out in despair. The girl ran down the hill without looking back. When he fell to his knees on the edge of the pond, Jungkook knew that something recorded had happened. Inhuman impulses to want to comfort her almost caused her to come down from her cloud. The sobs turned to crying as she ducked her head, burying her face in her arms. Jungkook kept his eyes open with his heart in his hand.

The old woman came to her side, recovering the air she had lost in the race. With his hand on his chest he sighed. Afterward, I drop to my knees to accompany Lina.

"My sweet girl ..." whispered affectionately as Mienytss reached out her old wrinkled hand to caress her head. Lina buried her head in her legs for comfort. "You knew this would happen sooner or later when you came of age."

"But not with him, lullaby," she murmured hoarsely. Even though her words were muffled by the old Jungkook's skirt she was able to hear everything. Her shoulders pointed upward as she felt outrageous rage. Now that he knew that the girl was crying because of someone, he could not help generating in his mind the multiple scenes of violence that he wanted to eagerly execute.

Lina, who for a moment had taken off her face to torment her with her bloodshot eyes, had gone back into hiding as she felt vulnerable before the old woman's gaze. Ares's nostrils expanded accordingly. He forced himself to calm down because otherwise he would make himself known in the worst way and he didn't want to scare her. Instead, he remained impassive waiting for the girl to reveal the name of her next outfit.

"I know it is difficult to accept but your duty to your people is ...

"I don't want to marry him." I don't love him, lullaby. "She cried, torn by pain and rage.

Jungkook widened his eyes in fury. His teeth clenched exhausted his sharp jaw. He got so mad that he ripped a piece of cloud and threw it to the ground in such a way that I ended up knocking down a tree, scaring the old woman and the girl.

Anger controlled his actions, it was no longer him. Her face was so red. Flames gushed out of his black pupils dimming all the goodness. A great gray cloud was deposited on top of the castle at the request of the same god.

People were paralyzed when they saw the man fall from the sky. His fall was such that on landing he left a large hole in place. The mortals who had already recognized his outfit were submissive. Some ran away from the god, others fell to their knees impropering his forgiveness. The only one who did not know what was happening was the king who watched as his subjects fled the place like headless chickens.

The two majestic gates shot out as Ares entered the throne room. The king opened his eyes when he recognized the red helmet that Jungkook always brought with him. He fell to his knees, standing before his throne. The king continued to pray until Ares's feet were placed before his eyes. The man looked up fearfully regretting when he saw the dark bowls that covered the place of his eyes.

Ares, lost by the thirst for revenge, lifted the man by his load, adjusting his fingers tightly on the spine. Afterward, he gouged out his teeth and growled violently causing the king to almost faint from fright.

"Lina is mine, you son of a bitch," he roared so loudly that if the king was not being supported he would have flown back. The man put his desperate hands to Ares's fingers to no avail, knowing that he would never match the strength of a god, much less when he was angry. "It's mine, do you understand? Mia!"

"Father?" A faint voice sounded from behind the god. "No!"

Lina ran to Ares when she understood the scene. With his hand to his mouth and nerves on the surface of his skin, his small fingers wrapped around the god's fingers so that he would free his almost dead father. Jungkook, who had been choking on his own smoke, reacted when he first felt the softness of Lina's fingers. He released the disoriented king, letting him fall to the ground. Lina came down to her father's passed out body. He ran a hand through his hair tripping over his crown. The old tears that had dried on her cheeks were now bathed in new ones that had begun to emerge. Then, the girl turned furiously at the god standing in front of them.

"Who are you, damn it! Why did you try to kill my father?" The growl that came from his sweet peach lips was nothing like the sweet voice he had grown accustomed to hearing. Jungkook was stunned, becoming increasingly ashamed of what he had done. I swear that he would scold himself harshly when he reached Olympus for allowing himself to be controlled by the wild instincts of his nature. Lina's eyes carried so much hatred that the god was speechless. No one had ever had the courage to look him directly in the eye. The others shied away from her fearful gaze, but she, she was searching for her. Jungkook's heart skipped a beat even though it wasn't the best situation.

"I ..." Her hoarse voice came out. Lina had the urge to close her eyes when her wonderful gravity soaked deep into her heart. The god looked like a scared puppy creating a great contrast to the previous raging man. Then, Lina much more lucid than before, managed to see her outfit. His golden robe. His red cape. When he saw the helmet. The symbol of the front of his armor. She widened her eyes in fright, knocking to her knees.

"I am sorry. I am sorry, Ares. I did not know. I did not know it was you. Forgive me, forgive this simple mortal who did not know how to venerate your great blood. Please, spare my old father and my life!"

Jungkook was stunned when the girl began to kiss the ground in front of her feet. Anger galloped away, transforming into pure sadness. Lina implored his forgiveness with such fear. At the time, he would have ignored her prayer and ended his life without hesitation. But things had changed so much. Now his heart was falling apart defeated by the sadness that caused him to see her so afraid of his presence when he felt the opposite.

Lina, hearing no response from the god, leaned her back further to rest her forehead on her hands clasped in the marble.

"Please spare my father's life in exchange for mine! Kill me but let him live!"

Kill her? Jungkook thought terrified. If he did, his soul would consume so much sadness.

"I am not going to kill your father." Ares assured him with a serious frown. He would not deny that that had been the main reason he had broken into the palace, but he would never dare do anything that would harm Lina, although that would mean swallowing the poison that consumed her inside. The girl raised her head, hoping to be reciprocated with such kindness. Grateful to the gods for having spoken to the god of war and having lived to tell the tale. Lina, naive to everything, could not realize the look that Ares was giving her. Her heart burned with flames as the thought crossed her head. I knew it was wrong. He knew he was taking advantage of the fact that he was practically throwing himself into her will. But he had spent so many months observing her from a distance that, having her close, he did not want to separate himself from her anymore. "I will spare your father's life but on one condition."

Lina craned her neck at the god fearful of his request. With drunk eyes of fear. Everyone knew how cruel the conditions of the gods were. There was always a high price to pay as his favors were not free. Lina swallowed violently accepting her fate.

"You will come to live on Olympus with me."

Tears choked the depths of the old woman's wrinkles. Standing up releasing her devastating screams. He couldn't believe that his beloved girl was leaving her home never to return. The king lay so defeated in his bed that he could not go down to say goodbye to his daughter.

Ares watched the scene impassively from his cloud at the foot of the castle. With her neck stretched out and her eyes fixed on the girl who was also crying in her caretaker's arms.

"Goodbye my sweet old lady," was the last thing Lina threw before turning around. The sadness took its toll on his now muted tone. The old woman, as a last hope, caught the fabric of Lina's dress causing her to stumble severely and then look at the god with desperate eyes. Ares did not take pity on his old heart, the centuries of loneliness had to be rewarded and his own satisfaction would not be denied. When the babysitter's sour fingers finally released, Lina's dress resignedly accepted the farewell. She regretted not hearing her sweet laugh again that lit everything in the castle. He would pray every night that love and affection would not be stolen from him in the same way. Just like the daylight overshadowed by the dark night, Lina approached the god. Despite the seriousness in his eyes, Ares felt like the happiest god in the world. He extended his hand to help the girl tackle her cloud, but she, spiteful for having forced him to leave her family, ignored her good gesture by turning her neck the other way. Ares was greatly humiliated by his contempt but happy that he had achieved what he longed for so much he decided to let his act pass him by.

That was how with a wave of his hand he indicated the cloud to lead towards his next destination. Lina watched withdrawn as the old woman's body diminished in the distance until it became a small spot on the horizon. She sighed reluctantly, realizing that the castle would no longer be her home from now on. That her life now belonged to the god of war. And that his decision would have changed the groove of his destiny.

As the other clouds rose, they increasingly occupied the space. After passing through a heavenly mist they reached the gates of Olympus. Lina spread her eyes attracted by each sun pore that illuminated the beautiful stops. Her nanny had told her endless stories about Olympus, but her stories could never be compared to real life. It was a dream place. Full of vegetation everywhere. Without further ado, the large white structure of the mausoleum was quite impressive.

When Ares came down, she followed him still soaking up the beauty of the place. Living here would not be so bad, he thought when he managed to visualize in the background a golden fence that housed the entrance to a garden that from afar already invited to visit.

“Jungkook!” A female voice called out from afar, catching the attention of the newcomers. A tall, strong, and beautiful woman wherever she looked came in front of them. She wore a white dress worthy of her wonderful sculpture with a large gold pendant covering the upper part of her body. Her brown hair pulled back into a braid. Her head wearing a helmet almost as golden as her pendant. Lina intended to bow down to pay her respects to the goddess of wisdom but found it inappropriate.

"Yun." Ares greeted calmly. The goddess kept her crystalline green eyes in an awake gaze. Ares, surprised by the despair his brittle voice conveyed in contrast to his subdued character, raised an eyebrow waiting for the goddess to finally say what she had come to say.

"Zeus requires you in the assembly hall."

"Tell father I'm busy. I have to install my partner and teach her what her future home will be like." When Ares turned to Lina, he gave her a friendly smile. However, Athena seemed to have other plans for the god. Lina felt quite uncomfortable when perceiving the eyes of the goddess in her. I notice his gaze filled with compassionate contempt, but contempt after all. Athena was known for her great mettle and intelligence, which is why she could not understand how Ares had taken the audacity to invite a mortal to Olympus where the entrance to any non-ancestral being was prohibited. Athena, however, did not hate humans. On the contrary, he loved all the sciences that they had invented, he adored the so playful gadgets that some had managed to create. Moreover, she was one of those who supported, along with Aphrodite, that relations with mortals will be increased. Because as a good goddess she couldn't deny how much she had enjoyed his sexual company. But he kept thinking that Ares's innocent action would have consequences not only on Olympus, but on the world. And the great goddess knew she was not wrong in that regard.

"Jungkook, this is not a game." If you don't go, then Zeus will come looking for you and you know as well as I do that our dear father is not merciful to those who make him wait.

Of course he knew. Zeus was fair and a name but also a being that you did not want to disturb. Ares frowned at Lina with an apology. Athena raised her neck up high when Lina rejected the hand Ares had tried to place on her shoulder. She was vilely annoyed by Ares's consent in the face of her disrespect.

"Okay. I'll go. But I can't leave my newcomer alone alone."

"I will escort her to your home," Athena offered with all the humility she could process. It wasn't easy for her to lower herself to her level, either, but she did, which Ares appreciated with an enthusiastic smile before leaving the mundane and goddess alone to march into the pantheon.

Ares entered the assembly hall with the smile standing out on his beautiful face. On the contrary, Zeus lay quite annoyed sitting on his throne while listening to the complaints of the other gods. When Jungkook broke into that thick atmosphere all the gods stopped their discussion to focus on him.

"I hope you have a good explanation, god of war." Zeus demanded under the cold tone he always used when something disturbed him. His blue eyes narrowed on the strong figure of Ares waiting for him. The other gods took their corresponding seats.

"I have it," Jungkook assured using the same ice cream from his father.

"Mortals on Olympus but when have you seen such impudence in these centuries?" Commented Iris, the goddess of discord, quite affected. Her large black dress gracefully covered her feet giving her a much more terrifying posture. Except for Ares, of course.

"She is not the first mortal to set foot on Olympus, Iris. I suggest that you calm down, lest you bite your tongue and poison yourself with your own bitterness." Jungkook's comment horrified everyone. No one in their right mind would dare insult the goddess herself of anger and evil if she wished to live to see another dawn. Iris widened her eyes more than furious. I rest my hands on his chair to push himself to his feet.

"I swear by my divinity that this mortal will perish painfully while she is still alive," Iris threatened with all the force of her evil. Ares approached the goddess in strides with bloodshot eyes and then shouted:

"As your hideous harpy hooves touch my wife's hair, I swear to the gods that I will swallow your own blood."

“Enough!” Hera yelled furiously appearing out the door. Jungkook was still facing Iris, giving him his characteristic death gaze that would be the nightmare of millions of mortals and gods. When the great mother goddess tenderly placed her hands on her son's shoulders, he pulled him away from Iris. "It is not time to start a war between the gods," the goddess whispered in her ear using the motherly tone that calmed her tantrums when she was a boy.

"Bringing her has been a completely irresponsible act," Zeus rebuked the God, standing up to reach him and his mother. "I demand that you return her to the place where she belongs."

"Never!"

"Jungkook!"

“No!” The god of war cut short with fury. Zeus felt a real panic when he recognized the opaque gleam in his son's eyes. "I love her and I want to spend eternity with her, even if I have to give up my life and leave Olympus, I will not leave her."

The gods breathed out in shock at Jungkook's future promise. Hera, fearful of her son's impulsive decision, watched her husband desperately. But Zeus still held his posture as stiff as rock.

"If that's what you want," Zeus commented defying Ares's courage. Hera turned pale almost falling defeated to the ground to beg her husband not to allow her son to leave. "I will give you until the summer solstice so that you can make him fall in love with you. If he does not, I will strip you of your divinity and not you'll never see her again. "

"If that's what you want," Jungkook growled softly, clenching his teeth almost as hard as his jaw. Zeus raised his eyebrows feeling winning, believing himself the wiser of the two.

Accustomed to a spacious but limited room, suddenly finding that great room was a surprise that left her speechless. The goddess of wisdom had accompanied her to a grand mansion leaving her in front of blood red doors. As she left, Lina couldn't stop processing the goddess's rejection. He hadn't bothered her with words, they hadn't even talked just walking. But I judge his tense shoulders and his tightly stretched neck every time in innocent carelessness brushed his arm as he walked down the narrow white-tiled path.

The young woman had been able to delight in her well-kept garden. The vines climbed the upper wall of the mansion giving it a welcoming air. It did not seem the home of a being destined for destruction, but quite the opposite. Even the furniture was fine and in very good taste. Undoubtedly, the one he liked the most had been the arch that adorned the entrance to the room. This is how he had found that lost part of the house. Everything was open, there were no doors and the walls were not part of its structure. The mansion was huge, extremely spacious. He had heard from the mouth of many villagers how outlandish the gods were, of course they were rumors without evidence since it was known that no mortal had climbed Olympus for centuries. But, at last, he was able to verify it. However, if what he saw was true and his senses were not deceived by the contradictory feelings that shadow his heart, living here without anyone's company could be considered torture.

A large bed covered with white sheets occupied the largest space in the room. To his right was a small table with a gold candlestick. To his left another of equal conditions. But without a doubt, what sucked much of the space was the large wardrobe guarded by two large oak doors. Curiosity had stung her stomach, preventing her from resisting approaching even if it was to admire the beauty of the drawings that devoured the entire structure. Another stab, perhaps more intense than the last, began to sting the tips of his fingers until he took the courage to open the doors.

"Virgin from heaven," I breathe out. Her fingers tightened on the doors because of the vertigo that began to control her emotions. There were no outfits per se, there were only armor, excessive amounts of armor and many, many weapons placed on the far walls. She slammed the door shut, her heart about to pop out of her mouth. I swallow hard from the early dryness of her throat. Closing her eyes, images of mutilations, battles, humans screaming in pain of pity flooded her little head. I push away all those thoughts by shaking my head. Her cheek was glued to one of the doors feeling secret relief when her skin found a welcoming cold. It was there when his eyes opened that they were hypnotized by the night light. The white rays caressed his entire body as he allowed himself to be led to a large balcony decorated with two white canvases as he passed the entrance. Her gratifying smile came true as she watched the moon gracefully strut high up into the sky. He looked much bigger from here than from his window in the castle.

"It's my favorite part of the house," announced a sweetened voice from behind. The girl jumped scared by her erroneous beliefs into her loneliness. The truth is that Ares had spent time watching her with a loving smile until he took the audacity to be noticed. Of course, it wasn't his intention to suffocate her, but they had to talk. "Is the house to your liking?"

Lina was silent for a couple of seconds before answering.

"You are a god, you shouldn't care about the opinion of a mere mortal." She was aware of his bad tone, too, of his poisoned gaze but he didn't care. He would rather die now than spend eternity with him. Jungkook suppressed a sad face after sensing his contempt. Of course he cared if it hadn't, he wouldn't have even bothered to order Pageo to fit everything for two.

"You are more than just a mortal to my Lina."

But she ignored his sincerity, his gaze true to her heart and rolled her eyes in a stressed sigh. Of course she didn't believe him, when had a god been seen to care about such a mortal? To them mortals were but the sheep to lead. Lina never thought it was special. She was always too low, too pale, too blunt. No man was really interested in her. All men saw in it were the great lands they would inherit and the great riches they would enjoy. She was never a beautiful girl in the eyes of others. Her waist was small compared to the servants who haunted her rooms. She was not worthy to bring heirs into the world for her moderate thinness. Her long legs did not fit the short legs that men loved. Everything was wrong for her. For Jungkook everything was perfectly fine. But her bad experience had tied a blindfold in her eyes that managed to cover the look of love with which the god looked at her every time.

Lina closed her eyes when a heavy sigh came from her reddish lips. She brought her trembling fingers to the clasp on his shoulder to give way to his nakedness. As the garment gathered around her ankles the cold night air hit her body, bending it slightly. Jungkook opened his eyes when his pale skin filled the whole environment. I gulp nervously as I swept her entire naked figure with desire. His neck screamed to be marked with his teeth. Her sweet clavicles marked to be kissed until she fainted. His eyes were caught without help in his chest, the view was wonderful, they were beautiful as he liked they were not large but they were not small either, they were the perfect size so that his palm fit in them. Without a doubt, the main attraction in those sweet strawberries were the two nipples that were raised awake by the cold contrast of the air. Jungkook growled excitedly. His teeth cracked hard from his desire to close elsewhere. When he reached his navel his tongue came out of his mouth in response. But her hypnosis ceased immediately when a gust of wind rose and Lina's body began to tremble with a crash from the drop in temperature. Jungkook shook his head realizing how low he had fallen to take advantage of her like that. She had stared at her wonderful body for so long that she hadn't realized how scared she was. Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows in embarrassment. Ready to end the show, he approached her to retrieve the dress from the floor and put it back on her body. Automatically, Lina opened her eyes overwhelmed by the old heat sensation of her garment. He tilted his head in confusion at Jungkook who had decided to look away at the moon.

"Don't do that again ..." he said, in a recorded tone that raised Lina completely. His tone echoed with both warning and danger. The young woman's cheeks were cruelly attacked by the heat and then she finished putting on the dress as it was before. Deep in her heart she felt rejected, humiliated. He thought that Jungkook had been angry for not being able to show him what he really liked when he had actually done it because he could not stop looking at her and above all, because if he repeated himself in the same way he did not know if he could control himself as he was hardly doing now. Lina bet to divert her gaze also but towards the room to avoid uncomfortable encounters. A long period of time passed in which both tried to assimilate what happened. Jungkook was the first to seek eye contact to find her staring blankly at the bed. Then, he muttered worriedly, sweetening his voice again. "Are you tired?"

Lina heard her heart race as the deep contrast of her voice landed in her ears. Far from appearing intimidating, in his opinion, the god enjoyed a sensual voice that pleased him, although it will be difficult for him to admit it.

"Answer me, please," Jungkook asked taking a step in his direction. His eyebrows were drawn in a sad gesture.

"Yes ..." I whisper shyly. Despite his brief intervention, Jungkook was relieved.

"It's all yours," added Jungkook low. Lina glanced confusedly at her spot in front of the railing. The moonlight so beautifully brightened her tanned skin that the girl had to suppress a sigh. He could be evil but he couldn't deny that his attractiveness was worthy of being a god. "Sleep in it if that's what you really need."

The young woman nodded in a small gesture before traveling to the bed. Her shoulders tensed as she watched Jungkook chase after her. However, the confusion drove her to raise her head in surprise when she saw the god pass by to walk towards a large black leather sofa just behind the bed.

Without giving it much importance, although quite grateful to him, she opened the sheets and got into bed. I almost fell asleep when I felt the softness of the fabric will hug your limbs with passion. She let her face rest on the feather pillow and closed her eyes, letting herself be carried away by exhaustion.

Stunned by the inconsequential light that passed through the large window, she begins to wake up. Her little bellies moan in her recent reverie process. Your body begins to produce smooth movements taking the sheets with them. Opening your eyes closes them again immediately after being shaken by the clarity of the bright sun. Then he stands up, placing his fingers through her hair to clear his gaze.

At first, he is scared because he does not recognize the room. However, when he manages to fully awaken his mind and his neural connections connect with reality, he remembers who the bed is and the reasons why he has come to it.

He growls lazily falling back dramatically. Turn your face to the right to find a sundial on top of one of the small tables that rest on the sides of the large bed. It is at that moment, when he manages to discern a wooden tray resting on it. As he sits down, his eyes widen in surprise as he looks at a white dinner plate carrying a small wheat omelette and a large golden goblet beside him. Lina tilts her head in confusion. Approaches to food slowly. When the delicious smell of fresh food rises up your nose, your stomach rumbles in response. Her cheeks flush from the intensity of the sound coming from her body. He takes a fine silver fork, punctures the pancake and puts it in his mouth at once. Her lips close and she moans with pleasure when her tongue first touches the sweet taste after hours without tasting food. He takes the cup, brings it to his lips. A white liquid moves through the hustle inside it. When the liquid runs down her dry throat, she has impulses to moan loudly. He recognizes the liquid as milk, but it was not just any milk, he knew that flavor very well, it was baca milk. Her favorite from when she was little. There was a time when he drank so much milk that the royal roof rack had been without it for a long period of time since then his father had forbidden him the liquid in his meals. It had been years since he tried it but he would never forget its sweet and creamy texture.

As he placed the glass back on the tray, his attention was captured by a small note of paper strategically left in one corner of it. Picking it up, he realized who it belonged to.

Please eat, it's been a long time since you did and I know your body needs energy. I didn't want to wake you up this morning because you looked tired. I hope you slept well, really. I have left you clothes I hope it works for you.

He lifts his head to look at the chair he pointed to in the note, realizing that there was indeed a long white dress on the back.

I had to leave but I will be back at lunchtime. There is a hot tub where you can cool off. If you feel it too hot, please turn the handle to the left to make it colder. You can go out to explore the surroundings but please do not leave the house.

Attention, Jungkook.

I purse my lips, saddened by so much verbiage. I am grateful that he had taken the trouble to find something for her so that she could change, even when I verify the existence of the golden bathtub as well. But he really didn't understand why, after giving him so many freedoms, he will end his note demanding that he not leave home. His house. In fact, she acknowledged that she was a bit stunned by the way she expressed herself. I mean, he's supposed to be the god of war, shouldn't he be colder when he talks? Instead, she looked like a sweet and virginal maiden.

Well, be that as it may, I would not reject the idea of ​​a hot and relaxing bath.

...

From afar, high up in his thick and large cloud, he observed a small quarrel between two peasants. Apparently, one of them had stolen a goat from the other and the affected person demanded its immediate return, which the other refused. I support the elbows and deposit the chin on the back of the hand. I sigh bored. Tired. He really hadn't slept well, although he doesn't regret it. Seeing her sleep had been so much more rewarding than the dream itself. He just couldn't resist. When he least expected it, he found himself admiring the serene expression on her face in the moonlight. So beautiful and innocent. A nostalgic smile went up her corners as she remembered her cute, shrunken pose in sleep.

"You're crazy." A voice in the familiar tone woke him from his reverie. Jungkook observed to the side, bumping into the sun god who looked at him with a knowing look. "You have kidnapped her and to top it all you have taken her to your house."

Jungkook rolled his eyes as he rolled his eyes away from the peasants and got up to stare directly at Taehyung's eyes.

"You're not the best one to give me moral lessons, brother," Jungkook recalled through a sarcastic whisper. Taehyung opened his nostrils allowing himself to be knocked down by his brother's annoying provocations.

"No, that woman has definitely driven you crazy." Tae assumed pinching his fingers on the bridge of his nose. "I just hope what Yun has told me is not true."

"It is," Jungkook agreed, downplaying it.

“What!” Tae yelled madly. His eyes expanded accordingly. Her mouth practically open for not giving credit to Jungkook's nonsense. "Jungkook, reconsider. You can't send everything to hell for a woman you don't know." Jungkook turned his gaze again to the peasants who had started clumsily sticking together. "You really have no fucking idea what it is to be mortal. Of all that aging entails. Living an ephemeral life with an end in hell."

"I don't care," Jungkook replied suddenly redirecting his determined gaze towards Tae. His seriousness was too devastating for Taehyung. Because he knew that he did not say all this on a whim. He said it because he really felt it.

"Jungkook ..."

"I don't care, and do you know why? Because I'd rather live a mortal life with Lina a thousand times than live an eternal life being a prisoner of my own loneliness."

It was the last thing Jungkook said before leaving leaving Tae's mouth open.

...

He ran a hand down his outstretched leg to remove the soap. The hot bath was so relaxing. She held her wavy brown hair in a small makeshift bun at the top of her head. I clean her legs, her breasts, her armpits, her entire body. A relaxed smile welled up on his wet red lips as he rested his neck on the small stand. The cold of the material vibrated at the nape generating a pleasant sensation.

Lost in the depths of her bath, Lina was not aware that her eyes were not the only ones observing her body. Hyulin, the god of burials, wore a hypnotized smile. His initial purpose had been to look for Jungkook to tell him something about some mortals, when he did not find him, he decided to leave there, encountering the wonderful scene of a woman more beautiful than anything else enjoying a quiet bath. When Hyulin saw how her pale legs were rinsed with such sensuality her feet were embedded to the ground. In an instant, his hand slid down her belly and into the confines of her pants. Gimio, noticing how his erect member reacted to the cold touch of his fingers.

Hyulin was so focused on the girl that her ears failed to warn her of the loud slam. Nor, of the figure so extremely annoying that he was approaching in strides.

“What the hell do you think you look at, asshole!” Jungkook roared, ruled by fury. His reddened ears almost as much as his bloodshot pupils. He grabbed Hyulin by the neck, holding him in midair without much effort.

"Nothing ..." Hyulin lied, frightened by the death gaze of the other god. Jungkook did not have to use his naive to find the correct answer, since it was the same language of the man who betrayed him by clumsily stumbling.

“She is my wife, by what right do you dare to look at her with your filthy beggar eyes?” He shouted, letting himself be carried away by her explosive nature about to fatally hatch. His nostrils were widened by his irregular alteration that also shook his chest like a typhoon. The hand clung more and more to his spine, leaving him little by little without the entry of air.

“Jungkook?” A voice as pure as sunlight sounded from behind him. Jungkook closed his eyes tightly at receiving her so scared. His heart broke into pieces when he turned around and saw her there, cowering in her own body as she executed a completely terrified look.

Noticing that the mortal's eyes were lost, specifically the way her fingers closed dominance on Hyulin's neck, Jungkook responded by releasing it as if the god's skin burned, when in reality, it had been fear the girl who had lit a bonfire on his body and caused fear in him.

Hyulin coughed on the ground as he clutched his fingers to the strangled area. Jungkook stood still before his completely fearful expanded eyes. When Jungkook took a step in her direction Lina responded by backing away from them. He reached out a hand in front of his body to demand that he keep his distance.

"Stay away," she said. His temple lip as his hoarse voice created a great atmosphere of tension in Jungkook's chest. He obeyed her, frowning in pain at being rejected with such fear. "I don't want you to hurt me ..."

"I would never hurt you, Lina." He had sounded so sincere, with so much nostalgia that the young woman's heart was for a moment softened. However, a scandalous cough at her feet put her on alert again. Then, he thought. If she had reacted like that with an equal, what kind of atrocities could he do to her?

"You already did when you took me away from my father."

That said, Lina shook her head disappointed. Afterwards, he left there leaving him with a broken heart.

...

Another day dawning in that extravagant bed. Another day that he was still in that place against his will. He managed to realize that unlike on other days there was no tray on the little table as usual. Lina thought that Jungkook had grown tired of her contempt and had punished her by leaving her hungry, she thought, until when she got up she led the way to the large dining room, finding him sitting in front of a white table where there were two sets of silverware.

Jungkook raised his head from the plate when he noticed her presence. Her eyes lit up accordingly. The dress fit her so well. White was his color. The gold of his belt matched so well with the auburn hue of his eyes and his loose wavy hair. Jungkook's corners rose in a lopsided smile. Then, he slowly got up from his seat to drag a chair over and offer it to him. Lina stared at the object from a distance, suspiciously. But despite the doubt, he required something to fill his stomach with so he decided to push his scorn aside at least until he finished feeding.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked. Lina, who until then had kept her mouth shut for focusing on chewing, gave him a hateful look. Her fists closed into fists after receiving her tone, which in her opinion was false, very concerned. I disturb you that you will be so hypocritical. She was so engrossed in searching for the reasons why she despised him that the blindfold kept her free of his sweet smile and his eyes marveled at her presence.

Lina threw the tray to the ground causing Jungkook to jump in the chair. The broken sound of the plate and the glass caused a strong disaster. Without further comment that on the polished magenta carpet had spread a stain for milk.

"Don't pretend you care!" I will not allow you to treat me well when I know that deep down you don't want to!

Jungkook frowned, he was starting to get fed up with her behaving like a spoiled child. He always drew his own conclusions by setting foot on the same mistake over and over again.

"If you didn't mind I wouldn't have kept you with me!"

Lina widened her eyes in shock.

—Import you? You are a god! Your kind only cares about themselves! You're no different from them! ”Their screams only fueled the tension of the environment. Jungkook gripped the ends of the table tightly to calm down. But the vein in his biceps declared just the opposite.

"If I had been like them, the first night, when you undressed on my balcony I would have taken you to bed and fucked you so hard that you had only one dick to obey in your miserable mortal life!" Jungkook sounded gone. It was not he who spoke but the rabid force of his god nature. Lina was speechless at his statements. The cheeks inevitably turned red from hearing such a dirty vocabulary. A low cramp upset her belly causing her to have to squeeze her legs to ease the pain that had unconsciously begun to vibrate in anticipation. Jungkook felt it. Jungkook felt the nervous path of his saliva as he swallowed. The trembling of his body as he formed a mischievous lopsided smile as he took the audacity to run his body up and down without shame. "Is that what you really wanted, that I would have fucked you until you knew who you are?"

"No..."

"No?" Jungkook repeated in the same innocent tone as he took off from the table and approached her slowly as if he were his prey and he was a hungry predator. Lina had her back to the table when Jungkook managed to get in front of her. He was close enough to brush her feet and suffocate her with his breath. As far as not daring to touch her creating a need in her to close the distance that she did not know she had. Jungkook's gaze screamed so many things, despair, desire, love ... the warmth of his eyes was so attractive that Lina was hypnotized. Dominated by the sensuality of her smile that increased over time. Jungkook suddenly laid her palms on the table on either side of her body, leaving her cornered. Lina held her breath when she felt him slowly lean towards her lips. The first reaction he had was to turn to the opposite side causing his bellies to draw a daring smile when colliding with his cheek. Badly assuming that after his rejection Jungkook would give up, he left his weakness unprotected. Then, he felt her cold, wet lip on the shell of his ear. "Then why do you squeeze your legs like a desperate whore who longs to be filled by a cock?"

"Get away." Her sob was stopped when she bit her lower lip. Jungkook froze immediately. I lift my head and look at her seriously. Lina narrowed her eyes helplessly causing a great feeling of guilt to settle in Jungkook's chest. When he felt a heavy gasp at first hand, he stopped leaning on the table and then took a prudent distance.

"Sorry, I don't know what happened to me." It's just that… "he sighed, closing his eyes frustrated." ... you drive me crazy. "

Lina suppressed a gasp again feeling calmer now that Jungkook lay much calmer. Her shoulders fell with her mood. He had ruffled his hair by letting a few stubborn strands cover his forehead. He looked wilder, but also more desperate. At some point, Lina had stopped digging her nails into the table and straightened up to get a little closer and make him see that he was okay. But the anguished look Jungkook sent him was completely paralyzing.

"It's been so long since I felt so attracted to a person that when I've had you so close I just ... I couldn't control myself. I ask a deep and sincere apology."

"It doesn't matter," she said. Lina frowned in embarrassment in order to make him feel a little better by taking iron out of the matter but Jungkook didn't look at her from the moment he decided to turn his eyes to the ground.

"No, it does matter." I scared you, sorry.

"You haven't really scared me, you've surprised me but not scared me."

Jungkook looked at her again confused, now meeting a Lina who desperately avoided his eyes.

“Why should I surprise you, you're a beautiful woman?” He seemed so sure of himself that Lina hesitated for a moment to believe him or not. Finally, when he snorted a sarcastic laugh as brief as he let his most dangerous fear see.

"No, I'm not," she commented in a thread of deep sadness. Jungkook perceived how his light was gradually extinguished by his negative thoughts. The god denied with such fury that Lina looked at him almost instantly.

"You are the most precious woman human existence has created," he said. Jungkook possessed the deepest gaze he had ever seen. He watched her with such delicacy and so much love that she succumbed awkwardly to him. His rosy cheeks furiously took on a scorching hot red upon hearing the compliment of what is probably the most attractive man she has ever seen in her short life. She was so flattered that for a minute she forgot that he was a god and therefore did not have to seek her liking. Jungkook smiled. Not like before. This one had a much closer and more welcoming air. Then, he felt so good around him that he had to tell her the promises of his broken heart. "I had always heard that the expression of beauty is inside but I never knew how to understand it until I saw you for the first time in that lost pond. Your smile radiated so much light that it suddenly ignited my dull heart. You looked so pretty, so innocent When I least wanted to realize going to see you had become my favorite activity. A single smile from you and my day was improving infinitely. That is why, that afternoon when I saw you cry I went mad with fury, I wanted to know that I did so much to you damage so I can destroy it so that I would never do it again. I admit that I let myself be carried away by the situation and that the one who ended up paying for my fury was your father. But I will never apologize for falling in love with you. Because that fact is from The only thing I know I will never regret. "

“You were watching me?” Lina repeated, lost in receiving so much information at once. He was trying to hold each word tight. Every gesture after opening his heart without fear. A small smile formed on his lips. Far from feeling harassed, a feeling similar to sweetness began to develop in her chest. Knowing that the man had been watching her for a while made her a little nervous but at the same time inexplicably more secure. Finding out the real reasons behind his enormous anger had made the prospect of the god walk in another direction. After all, he had done everything to protect her, despite the fact that, as he says, he did not use the best ways.

"If you gave me a chance you would make me the happiest man on the face of the earth." He confessed lost in valleys of unbridled emotion. Lina raised her eyebrows hesitantly as she was upset with her heartbeat. "Would you give me that privilege?"

...

The brightness of the sun welcomed a new day in their eyes when they opened. He stretched lazily on the sheets growling as the muscles began to move. Jungkook was not at home. He thought about it when he straightened up and didn't see him in the room. The sofa where he slept every night seemed to be intact perfectly ordered with the cushions in place. I just confirmed it when in a quick look around the house I found it completely empty except for him.

She sighed disappointed. Today was a month since he had gone to live there. Not meeting him was becoming an increasingly unpleasant routine. But he understood perfectly. Every night, they talked a little about how the day had gone. She told him about the new things she discovered around the house, such as the large fountain that was in one of the lost gardens on the right wing. And he, about how annoying mortals were getting lately and what it meant to receive more work than unusual. He felt bad for Jungkook until he remembered that he was a god and that it was supposed to be his job.

The only bad thing about not having time to rest was that he left very early and returned late at night. Lina was starting to get bored of walking corridors she had already discovered on her old farms. An idea came to her mind when she turned a corner and managed to be stunned by the great intensity of light coming from a window. The eyes were drawn to the beauty before him. A great green meadow full of flowers so vast that not even the end could be seen. This is how she found herself walking out the door after several weeks of being confined. I take a deep breath, feeling his lungs thank him. When her sandal finally touched the stone grid at the entrance, she was tempted to return.

"You can go out and explore the surroundings but please don't leave the house."

She felt bad remembering that she was disobeying Jungkook's orders but then the sun blinded her again for a few moments forcing her to cover her eyes with her forearm. As if fate were tempting her, as she returned her gaze to the meadow, she seemed to feel much more alive. Jungkook does not have to find out that I have gone out to tour the place a little. She thought innocently.

For each step that took more grace was left of the vegetation in the garden. Her mouth had been open for a long time, caring little that a bug would hang in her. I have never seen such a beautiful place, not even your beloved pond could be compared to such a beautiful place. Tall trees with large fruits in their tops. The leaves of the flowers seemed to greet me, shaking each time I passed. It wasn't until she managed to spotlight a large herd of blue flowers that she started running with the enthusiasm of a little girl. His laughter infected the environment. I swear to see the trees get greener.

Gimio adoring the flowers with a loving smile. I bow my head to soak up all the detail of the curious flowers. She frowned when she was lost. He had never seen that species, not even, in the flower book that Nana had given him on his sixth birthday.

"I see you like my bullet petunias." A gentle voice broke in behind her making her turn with a start. A woman dressed in a robe full of flowers was greeted with a loving smile. She had an aura so calm and serene that Lina reciprocated without thinking.

"They're beautiful, I've never seen them before," she confessed. Drawing the goddess's gaze to the bluish petals.

"That's because they only exist here. It was a gift from my sister Demeter when I married Zeus. A unique flower that only grew in my garden."

"It is certainly an unforgettable detail," Lina said. She felt a little nervous at recognizing the woman's identity but her aura kept her in an overly pleasant state of calm. Hera nodded in complete agreement. He took a couple of steps and stood next to the girl.

"I'm glad you finally spoke." Hera's comment made Lina take her eyes off the flowers and direct her towards the goddess. "You know, I don't like to see my sad son."

"Neither do I ..." Lina whispered, thinking aloud not realizing that Hera had heard her wish until she heard the goddess's mischievous laugh. Lina widened her eyes in surprise at his loose tongue. Flames began to form from his cheeks in the form of an intense blush. It was the first time that he had accepted her liking towards Jungkook out loud, and to top it off, he had just confessed it in front of Hera, and much more embarrassing his mother.

"I already knew that. Actually, it wasn't too far-fetched to think about it knowing that Jungkook had you withdrawn at home doing god knows what." - Hera said. Her insight was accompanied by a small mocking laugh as she noticed the heat on her face increase.

"I'm a virgin, ma'am. I swear to you that Jungkook and I don't ..."

"Don't tell me, ma'am," she scolded. His loving cry almost left her in the place of fright. "I know that you are a virgin, your aura is still white. But apparently your mind is not so much, I deduce ..."

The poor girl definitely couldn't be redder. She had become so nervous that the neural connections in her small, groggy head had stopped working. The atmosphere followed a gentle course of silence until strong footsteps caught the attention of the goddess and Lina.

"Iris, my dear, any problem?" Hera asked. His serene countenance had strained because of the newly arrived woman. Lina stared curiously at his aggressive beauty feeling a little envious of the curve of her hips.

"No, mother," she clarified. But something she was saying to Lina that was not entirely sincere. More, when his grim-black eyes began to run through her with blatant contempt. "I just wanted to meet the mortal who has driven the god of war mad."

"Iris, you better be going I don't think Jungkook likes very much knowing that you are close to Lina" Hera said. Her advice rang out with a warning behind, leaving Eride a little surprised. However, he smirked at the goddess before turning to Lina with a bored look assuming it wasn't worth it. After a forced nod, the goddess returned to the path in which she had arrived. Lina had at some point raised her neck realizing that she was upset and somehow, returning the same contempt that she had given her. Hera's joke back to reality. "She's always looking for war. I'm sorry you had to meet her."

"It doesn't matter, Hera. Truth is, she's not the first goddess to look at me like I'm little less than a grain for being mortal," Lina recalled wistfully. He still couldn't shake the tension that Athena refuted from his mind.

"Oh Lina. My sweet and innocent girl. That daughter of mine is not upset because you are a mortal." Hera said. Lina frowned when the goddess touched her chin showing skepticism, "Well, in part yes, honey. But what really bothers her is that Jungkook has chosen you and not her."

"Are you saying that as if she ..."

"Yes, Lina." She's jealous, "Hera confirmed in a weary sigh as if irritated by her daughter's strong character." Maybe she isn't the best to tell you this but I think you should know. "

"Please tell me." Lina asked curious to know more.

"Jungkook has not been a very chaste god in these centuries. Really, I don't think there is a goddess on Olympus who has not passed through his bed, except for me of course. However, Eride has a great obsession with Jungkook rather insane. She believes that he is her soul mate but, darling, I am the goddess of the family and believe me when I tell you that my daughter will never find her if she doesn't change her attitude. "

“Soulmate?” Lina asked, lost in so much information. Hera nodded seriously.

"You see, honey. The gods have many lovers, infinite sexual relations and many, many relations. However, we only truly fell in love once."

"Is that the soul mate?" True love? ”Lina asked, confused by the diverse laws of the gods. I had heard the myth of the soul mate in the mortal world before thinking it was just that, a tale to help children sleep. Which sums up his surprised reaction when he realizes the truth of the matter. Just a moment. She thinks, "Why would she be jealous of me? I am not Jungkook's soulmate."

"Honey, you'd be surprised to know how curious the soul mate world is."

...

She kept her eyes open concerned about Jungkook's strange lateness. He had his palms together holding his head so that it did not touch the pillow, after a while in the same position he had begun to heat up his cheek too much. In a quick glance at the hourglass, he realizes what time it is. Worries again, Jungkook usually didn't take that long. Lina purses her lips in an embarrassed pout. By zeus, he was really concerned about a god. Whose most remarkable characteristics are its immortality and strength. Nothing can happen to him because he's a fucking god. Quickly remembered.

A noise at the front door makes her suddenly nervous. When she sees her great figure come fully into the room from the mirror in front of the balcony, she closes her eyes like a little girl who fears being caught in her fachoria. He doesn't know why he does it, he just acts. He settles into bed to resemble a deep sleep state for when he comes close to kissing her forehead. However, nothing happens. Wait and wait but nothing happens.

Open one eye to find the situation but just see Jungkook's serious face. Then, she falls like a fool into her own doubt. He is upset, it shows from the tension that covers his shoulders under his armor. Leave the sword resting on a piece of furniture while you go to the bathtub. He feels an emptiness in his heart when he passes by without kissing his forehead. That, although it seems a gesture as simple as nothing, he had become accustomed to the warm sensation that his lips leave when he deposits a sweet kiss on his forehead every night. Something disturbed his mind. He seemed uneasy as he sat on the edge of the bathtub. I stretch a finger to touch check the water temperature. He sighed and got up again. I intended to say something but the words stuck in my throat when the top of his armor fell to the ground. The muscles of his strained back greeted me with open arms. His thick and strong arms for the first time in my sight. It was an image worthy of being engraved on a painting so that it will last for eternity. He had never had the privilege of seeing a half-naked man but despite his inexperience, he knew, the moment Jungkook turned and his abs reflected against the artificial light of the candles, that no man could match him even in the most remote dream . His jaw fell prey to such attributes, falling by itself. Underneath the sheets her legs were squeezed tight to ease the tickling that had begun to accumulate at her bottom. It was so illusory to think that just showing off her tanned skin would leave her so affected. Jungkook placed the helmet on top of a piece of furniture. Then, she brought her hands to her hips to proceed to lower her military skirt. Lina caught her bottom lip before closing her eyes tight. Deep down he knew it was wrong to spy on him that way. He knew it wasn't, but when the bath water shook from the weight of a body on top, his eyes widened anxiously again. His legs rubbed with need at the scene of a Jungkook moaning as he dropped his head, exposing his wet neck. Her Adam's apple was so attractive and thick. His breathing increased in such a way that he had to cover a moan, sinking his mouth into the pillow.

Jungkook, who until then had been absent, snapped his head up toward the bed. His eyes narrowed to improve eyesight in the dark. Silence flooded the room again. Jungkook reached out to brush the hair off his face and then refocused on his deep relaxation again.

He did not know how long he had been lost in the bathtub but he would swear that it could be perfectly confused with eternity. Now, dressed in white silk pants, he started on his way to the black sofa. He would like to say that the bath had improved his mood, but that would be lying. Things on earth were getting more difficult. A great war was coming just as Hoseok had said a couple of weeks ago. He kept receiving offerings. His head was full of prayers and future pledges of loyalty. Mortals always got heavy when they wanted the favors of the god of war because if you enjoyed the honor that his blessing granted you there would be no defeat on the horizon.

“Have you arrived later than usual today?” A terribly sweet voice sounded behind him causing the god to immediately stop arranging the pillows. Jungkook's shoulders strained from receiving so much tenderness after being subjected to violence and bitterness all day. Without a doubt, a contrast that improved any relaxing bath.

"Yes," Jungkook clarified, clearing his throat to clear his hoarse tone. "I've received many offerings lately."

"Is that bad?" Her curiosity marked by intrigue lovingly punished the ears of the god. Lina had decided to sit on the bed with the help of her arm to support herself. He kept the sheets glued to his chest as his open eyes sent worried glances at Jungkook's back.

"Yes, when they are excessive. That means that you are going to see a battle where many people are going to die," he assumed with too frightening sincerity. Jungkook continued with his task of tidying up the sofa. Lina for her part, had let out a gasp surprised by the comfort in her body. Jungkook didn't look affected, what's more, he seemed to hate talking about it.

"Today I have met Hera," she said. The fear was palpable in his gaze because he knew what his reaction would be. His head had started working to try to change the subject and that was the first one that came to mind. Of course Jungkook gave up everything he was doing in that instant. A pillow slid down her fingers until she fell to the floor. Then he turned to her with a disgusted look.

"I told you not to leave the house," he chided. Lina averted her eyes too intimidated by his strong scolding. Jungkook, desperate for an answer, strode to the bed, standing a few inches from the foot of the bed.

"I'm fine," she growled complaining like a girl who didn't like receiving punishment when she hadn't actually done anything wrong. Jungkook laughed sarcastic, exhaling pure irony from his mouth. Then, he grabbed a strand of her hair tightly and ruffled it in frustration as his eyes swept over her body.

"I see." He replied coldly. There was no life in his words but a rather dark emptiness. "But tell me, is there something else you have done that has prohibited you? I don't know, let me think. Have you met another goddess? Or no, much better Have you met another god? Have you let him touch you? Have you allowed other hands to touch you? Tell me who he is so I can ... "

“Jungkook!” Lina yelled hurt at all those meaningless assumptions. Humiliation blossomed within his chest as his gaze hardened to the point that he no longer had chestnut irises but empty, red sockets in the place of his eyes. His shriek seemed to bring his feet back to earth because his dark gaze immediately turned into a loss.

"Go to sleep ..." said Jungkook. His eyes lost in the infinity of his feet. Lina noticed how her shoulders dropped level when perceiving so much sadness in her puckered face. He opened his mouth to say something but Jungkook insisted again. "Just ... Go to sleep, Lina."

"Jungkook." She called out to him with sighs bathed in sadness. But he kept his head down on his way to the sofa. Lina tilted her head slightly when she saw him sit and moan uncomfortably. It felt so selfish to enjoy such a comfortable place knowing it was someone else's. Jungkook ended up lying down, then covered himself with a magenta blanket. Her back was still tense, not knowing if it was because of the uncomfortable furniture or because of her recent discussion. "Are you going to sleep there?"

"Where can I sleep if I don't?" Jungkook replied with a wry mockery. He removed his body to face himself. His hand causally held her head. Then he raised an eyebrow intrigued by her sudden interest.

"You can sleep here if you want," she suggested quite shyly.

It had sounded so low that for a moment she thought Jungkook hadn't heard her, but she pushed that thought from her mind when a small smile tightened at her sweet corners.

"Do you want me to sleep with you?" Jungkook asked with significantly improved humor. She licked her lips, leaving them moist and quite juicy in Lina's sight. Who could not help but warm his cheeks under his watchful eye.

"After all, it's yours. I'm just the girl who has selfishly occupied your bed ..."

"You haven't answered me, Lina." Jungkook said, lowering his voice to a tone a little lower than normal. Lina gulped nervously when she was startled by panic and her damn lopsided smile. "Do you want me in your bed?"

Knowing that his words might be misinterpreted, he decided to slowly nod. But Jungkook complained unsatisfied.

"Say it with your words, baby," I scold fondly as I wrinkled my nose. Her face threatened to explode with embarrassment. And yet, he couldn't recall a single moment when he could have felt so hot. The nickname had been spoken with a dangerous touch despite the honey in his voice.

"Yes, I want Jungkook ...

...

She squeezed her eyes shut as the sunlight completely consumed her sleep. She tried to move to stretch her stiff muscles but a large hand gripped her waist holding her still. Then, she was aware of the large hot mass just behind her. The large sculptural chest that clung to his back as if it were his second skin. And the hot breath that fell on her ear, making her feel so relaxing. Her stomach was suffocated by the focus of heat emitted by her hand placed on the area of ​​her belly, becoming an overly overwhelming hug. I reiterate in his attempt to free himself causing Jungkook to tighten his grip. I listen like a sleepy moan still wrapped in the deep worlds of sleep. Jungkook growled in his hair, burying his head in the hollow of his neck. Lina threw her ass back to knock him off hitting a fairly long frame. He opened his eyes when he realized he had just ground against his huge cock. Jungkook dipped a growl deep into his neck, firmly grasping his hand on his belly to keep it from bothering him further.

She timidly moved her arm to nudge him but froze when she felt Jungkook's hand slide slowly down, down, specifically in the area of ​​the junction between her thighs. With so much movement the dress had risen in such a way that it had ended up accumulating around her waist leaving the way free for her to pass the palm of the curve of her hip. The young woman suppressed a gasp when Jungkook touched the skin of her belly with the tips of his fingers to finish placing the open palm above her navel.

"Jungkook ..." she called between pleas, using a thread of voice to get his attention. Jungkook's chest swelled accordingly, imprisoning her further. Innocently, he had thought that it had all been part of a dream-dominated maneuver. But when she felt the edge of Jungkook's smile, she wasn't too attached to that theory.

"Shh ..." Silence over his ear. Her body rose against his to close the distance. Lina gasped at the so relaxing sensation that her suggestive caresses marked. She even ignored for a moment her viral need to breathe when she felt the tips of her fingers caress the waistband of her panties.

“Mail from the gods!” They shouted from the balcony, throwing a package of immense dimensions. The roar of crashing to the ground woke her brutally from her reverie. Jungkook cursed under his breath as he got out of bed. Lina suddenly felt helpless roaring a need for his body heat. With flushed cheeks I stick my knees to his chest and grab the sheets covering half of his face. All this while still observing Jungkook. He looked almost like a divine apparition looking so handsome just awakened when she had tousled hair and a puffy face. He had not been able to notice their semi-nakedness wearing only white cloth pants. His torso seemed much more spectacular now that he could appreciate it in the sunlight. His arms were stretched as he grabbed a book with the old cover reflecting its greatness with a pair of dilated veins in the area of ​​his forearm.

"Fucking shit," he roared as his eyes read something hastily. He did not take his eyes off the book, rereading the content in case it had been a mistake caused by fatigue. But when he reread the sentence, he ended up sending his hopes to hell for what was left of the day.

"What is it?" Lina asked. Too intrigued to remain silent. Jungkook looked at her quickly with an irritated sigh.

"The Offering Request Book." Jungkook replied quite annoyed. He hated that book with all his soul. He could perfectly spend the whole day reading the stupid wishes of mortals and he would still have hours to go from the first page. Could it be that they had gone crazy, or what? Jungkook thought pissed off. Overcome by anger, he closed the book abruptly, then tossed it on one of the tables. Then he sat wearily at the foot of the bed, his resigned gaze embedded in the book.

"Today is Sunday, don't you have a single day off?" Lina asked, quite indignant with the fact. Jungkook watched out of the corner of his eye as his lips pouted, tempting him to pinch his cheeks for teasing him so sweetly.

"Desire has no day on the calendar, Lina." Jungkook said, showing a little more reason to fulfill his obligations. The bed creaked beside him as Lina moved behind him with her knees resting on the mattress.

"But you've been away all week, I've hardly seen you." Can't you save it for another day? ”She suggested. Jungkook's ears snapped back, turning back to meet his desperate gaze.

“Are you asking me to put my obligations aside because you want to spend the day with me?” Jungkook asked incredulously. He was tempted to bite his tongue to see if he was still dreaming. Lina's cheeks turned deep red when she managed to realize what she has just proposed without being aware.

"I would perfectly understand that it is your duty ..."

"What?" Jungkook breathed, surprised by his sadness. "If being with you is the only thing I want right now," he snorted, feeling much lighter at once. "Trust me when I tell you that I would send everything to hell for spending a single day with you. Just tell me where you want to go and we will run if necessary.

"Well ..." she cleared her throat embarrassed by her contagious enthusiasm. "When I was a child my father always took me to a small theater in the town square," she confessed through a nostalgic smile.

"I'd love to go," Jungkook replied simulating the same smile. Lina nodded in agreement with her raw cheeks.

Tasting the sunlight directly after being locked up for several days had undoubtedly made her feel like pearls. Just like the first time he took a deep breath to fill his lungs with the rich oxygen. Lina was waiting for Jungkook in front of the doors while the god entrusted one of her brothers with her tasks, she thinks she heard that his name was Taehyung. Despite being in constant contact all day with one, one could not get used to the environment charged with gods. Taehyung radiated so much light that he knew in that instant that he was Apollo the Sun god. He managed to realize that this light not only came could be reflected from outside, but also came from within. He had been very kind and compassionate as he gave me a small bow in greeting imposing how little he cared about the difference in lineage.

"I think we can go now," Jungkook announced making an appearance. Lina stopped looking at the vast meadows of Hera's garden to turn to the god. Immediately, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Jungkook, you can't go like this," she said with slow laughter. His hand sweetly covered her mouth while inside her palm she bit a tempted lip. Jungkook, for his part, frowned as he visually reviewed his characteristic armor.

"It is my favorite armor," Jungkook said, plunged into a world of confusion.

"It is already very pretty. But, how do you think mortals will react if they see the god of War walking through his plaza so belligerent?"

"Oh," he groaned realizing that the girl was absolutely right. Too much chaos would undoubtedly ensue that would draw the attention of any god, including his father, which he did not want at the moment. Lina slightly increased her laugh as she saw Jungkook's wide eyes. From one moment to the next, the god snapped his fingers in a cloud of dust that covered him, then, when it completely dissipated, Lina slowly raised her eyebrows after seeing the outfit she was now wearing. It was nothing more than a white tunic of too fine origin but his wide arms managed to pronounce themselves by the sides and his chest was marked divinely. His tongue almost fell out of his mouth, forcing himself to calm down to avoid such embarrassment. "Is this going well?"

"Perfectly," she says, accompanied by a stutter and a rather uneasy nod. Jungkook smiles pleased at having made such an impression on her. Then he covers his arm around the girl's small waist to force her to walk towards a makeshift cloud at the end of the trail. In the course of the trip, he manages to discern the black figure of a woman leaning against an oak tree who observes them evilly from afar. Lina narrows her eyes to increase her visual acuity, so her neck is firmly raised with warning when she recognizes the goddess who was watching them as if she wanted to attack them. I briefly look at Jungkook who, absent from everything, had not blurred his smile. He didn't know what went through his head at that moment when in a movement he decided to wrap his anatomy around one of Jungkook's arms. The god was more than receptive giving his waist a squeeze sticking their bodies more. Consequently, Eris breathed pure fire through her mouth while digging her nails wildly into the apple she had been eating until then. He cursed pure oaths full of vengeance towards Lina but she completely ignored the goddess focusing only on the so relaxing heat radiating from Jungkook's body. He knew that they were nothing more than empty words invoked by his poison that he did not want to ingest.

Soon after, they ascended to the cloud of the god and descended gracefully to the earth. Specifically, behind some hidden bushes just next to the entrance of the town.

Lina could not describe the feeling that began to settle in her chest when, as she entered the town, feminine glances began to run through Jungkook's body with too much suggestion. Those women were completely attracted to the mortal-looking god, unable to take their eyes off such wonderful human sculpture. There was everything. From women well into maturity to young girls who were no more than sixteen. Jungkook felt the tension reflected in the shape of his grip with which he decided to give her a small intrigued look, Lina slowly denied so Jungkook decided to continue with the journey without insisting again.

Upon reaching the small square, nostalgia began to approach her, seeing a much smaller image of her running around enthusiastically while patiently waiting for the show to begin. The atmosphere had not changed much since the last time he had the privilege of attending, the laughter of the children remained just as vivid since then.

A beep made by a man with a kind of trumpet sounded giving the announcement that the function was about to open.

“Run, you have to get a good place!” Lina shouted excitedly as she tugged on Jungkook's arm. The god let him drag him to a free spot on the gravel floor. Sitting down, Lina clenched her fists, bit her lip, and trembled all over her body, transmitting too much despair and joy. Jungkook swept his body with a funny smile.

"Oh, welcome, my beloved gods!" Come! Sit down! ”A man with a rather comical look suddenly stepped onto the stage. Jungkook wrinkled his nose when he recognized the outfit so poorly made that he wore symbolizing Zeus. He carried a beam of cardboard stuck to the armor of the same material. Next, an elderly, old woman appeared just behind him, wearing a rather worn white robe. It was obvious that it was a satire for how the man's belly protruded through the armor and how the woman seemed not to know how to walk but Jungkook had tensed. Seeing her parents being portrayed so poorly had struck a chord with her.

"It is a play, Jungkook, they are not mocking, they just want to make the children laugh," she murmured near his ear to reassure him. Jungkook's shoulders dropped, relaxing as he understood the situation. It was true, because the children's laughs did not stop ringing. I bend his knee to support the forearm and thus manage to settle until the function will last.

A thin man could not but entered with great airs of the stage. Jungkook raised an eyebrow in amusement as he recognized the symbol on the artificial armor.

"Oh, Brother Poseidon, what a pleasant surprise!"

"How nice or eight quarters I come to complain about your daughter's scoundrel!"

Suddenly a woman the height of a pea entered the scene.

"Don't listen to this face stud asparagus just wants to confuse you!" The woman shouted, waving her arms exaggeratedly. The children's laughter exploded accordingly. Lina also let herself go, even Jungkook had to suppress a laugh. The show progressed without any problem now that Jungkook had been able to let go and be shaken by the barbarities of the actors. The main theme was the fight that took place between his uncle Poseidon and his sister Athena to achieve the sovereignty of Athens. Although they did not follow to the letter what really happened.

A skeleton man but in sight was that not with many lights he entered the stage with airs of greatness leaving the false gods speechless. Jungkook raised his eyebrows surprised to see himself represented so well compared to the other gods. Of course, he changed his mind when the man opened his mouth.

"I want blood!" The false god shouted with euphoria. The children stood up with their voices and began to scream supporting him in his fight. Lina started to panic when she caught a glance at Jungkook's jaw clenching furiously.

"But what does this fool say about the boat?" Asked the false Athena, slapping her forehead with her hand. The children stopped screaming to fall dead with laughter. Everything seemed to be going well until the false-quality feather of the fake Ares began to burn without explanation. Lina managed to realize what was truly happening when she watched as Jungkook focused his bloodshot eyes on the poor mortal.

Stunned by the dire consequences that could ensue if this continued to manifest itself, she grabbed Jungkook's hand and pulled him off the stage as quickly as she could. They ended up in a lonely alley behind the market.

"You can't use your powers here, Jungkook!" You almost burned that poor actor alive! ”I cry desperately so that he will understand the consequences of his actions. Jungkook was still clenching his jaw with his fists clenched dead in anger.

"I am not like that! I do not enjoy blood in battle! I am also in charge of judging the stupid mortals who die in war! Shit I don't just dedicate myself to violence! I cannot understand how ... "

"I know," I whisper directly to his face. His breath gently caressed her mouth as the girl's delicate hands caught her cheeks. Jungkook came down from the sky and rose at that precise moment. "I know that you are not like this. That you only fulfill your duties as a god. But you must understand that this is not Olympus and you cannot use your powers like this against mortals because it is not fair . "

"You are too good for me ..." Jungkook seduced, capturing a deeply attractive look in her eyes. He tilted a complacent smile as he felt the trembling of his hands as he placed his larger ones on top. After a flattering sigh, Jungkook began to lean his face towards hers, not taking his eyes off her pink lips. Lina had closed her eyes and brought her face closer, feeling the touch of her lips in a chill. He would have been carried away. He would have let himself be killed ...

But a loud roar confused with a malevolent laugh completely distracted them from their reverie.

“Is that the reason you refused to marry me?” A thick, rather familiar voice made Lina tense as she looked up in fear at Jungkook. Not by Jorge, of course, but by the vein that had begun to be marked on the neck of the god. When Jungkook peels off the wall to face the fat man behind him, Lina pales. Jungkook is immediately stopped by a small hand on his forearm.

"Don't fall for her game, let's go ..." She held back an anguished gasp. He was aware that Jungkook was glancing at him. "... please."

"Yes, bitch, go! Just how did you run away not to do your duty!"

A dismembered growl shot out from Jungkook's chest as he turned to grab the man's neck to stamp it on the wall to his right.

"How dare you speak to him that way? Not a hundred like you together would be worth enough to be worth it."

Her nostrils were forcibly dilated in order to maintain the stability of her irregular breathing. It hadn't cost her anything to carry the man's heavy weight, which surprised Lina with overwhelming horror. He realized in that instant that if Jungkook wanted he could reduce it to nothing with just a little squeeze.

"Jungkook, let it go," she asked in a persuasive tone. But Jungkook did not take his eyes from bloody eyes in the half-closed of his enemy. I'd make him eat his words so I had to tear his tongue out and sew it up again. Lina, her mind blank, wrapped one of her biceps urgently. So long and hard under his touch that he almost gasped in admiration. Hector's lifeless moan brought her back to the situation. "Prove to me that you are not what everyone thinks you are. Forgive your life and I will know that you are not as evil as others paint."

Jungkook's eyebrows slowly relaxed to stack in a straight line after uncrossing his frown. I lower my neck and watch her. The hopeful light that shone within her pupils said two things: that she believed in him and that she appreciated him. Perhaps that was the reason why he decided to release Hector. Maybe that was the reason why he stopped in front of Lina to smile at her with love.

“Don't you believe all those things about me?” Jungkook asked in a desperate but much calmer tone now that he was not under the control of anger. Lina mimicked her smile and slowly shook her head. Jungkook did not need words, since, with that gesture, he had no doubt that he was telling the truth. Feeling the luckiest in the world, he put aside the hasty sound of moans from shortness of breath. He could only notice her and no one but her. Her heart was pounding fiercely at the recent confession, which confirmed her suspicions that he hadn't lied.

“What kind of devil are you?” A hoarse voice cut through the space between them to run over Jungkook's ear. The god looked down at the human spoil that was dying on the ground for a little air. The shadow on his chin grew, giving him a much more terrifying appearance.

"Go away, H��ctor, and don't come back here," Lina said abruptly to prevent the dispute from rising again from its ashes. The man scrambled to his feet and regarded her with contempt.

"If you think this is going to stay here ...

“Go away before I regret having spared your pathetic and shitty life!” His scream was with such a long impact that Hectos's hair stirred. The man opened his eyes in fright, turning around to run down the alley. I would have let him go unpunished. It was his intention. But two seconds after his departure Jungkook managed to hear a curse to the gods adding to the annoyance they had caused the god to use his powers on a human for the first time in centuries. I raise my hand and snap my fingers instantly making a fine rat tail appear on its huge behind. Lina widened her eyes in surprise but the laugh she exhaled was so strong that she completely forgot about the bad gesture she had just made.

"Who did what?" Commented the goddess Hera, laughing with emotion. Lina continued to rake the dirt as he accompanied her in feeling. She left her work for a second to wipe her hands of dirt on the dress.

"As you hear it, Hera." Very big and curly.

"God, my son, what ideas does my son have?" The goddess, too tempted, left her strawberry pick to sit on a white stone bench and rest a bit and improve her posture to keep laughing. After a few seconds of silence flooded by the sound of the birds singing, the goddess watched as Lina rummaged in the ground to plant a seed that would give a strawberry plant in days. Lina, noticing Hera's strange muteness, turned her head to blush just later. "I gather that your relationship is getting better and better."

"I am not going to deny that in these months I have managed to get affection for him, but Hera I still see in Jungkook the person who distanced me from my loved ones," she commented under her breath in a tone infused with anguish and nostalgia. It had been quite a few months since his arrival at Olympus and therefore for quite a few months that he had not heard from his father or nanny. He did not know how his command in the kingdom was going if he had had a problem or if he continued to maintain the diet that he said was absurd but kept his old heart away from suffering some malignant disease.

"I understand ..." whispered the thoughtful goddess. "You miss the life you led before." But what about the life you lead now you don't like? "

"I don't know," she confessed, quite confused. She did not live badly, that is, Jungkook treated her with affection and respect, always trying to provide her with everything she wanted but the material world perishes without an emotional world to bond with. Lina at this time had developed a very strong feeling for Jungkook but did not know if it was negative or positive.

After spending the entire afternoon helping Hera in her garden, she told him to take a few strawberries for dinner. Lina accepted the delighted offer and much more after being informed that by chance that was Jungkook's favorite fruit. The god had been taking her to incredible places that she never dreamed of knowing. Now it was his turn to return the favor a little.

I place the cutlery in line with the cups and napkins. He had prepared a fruit cocktail that far from bluffing had come out with a spectacular pint. Lina sat in her usual seat while waiting for the clock to strike nine at night. Time the god had promised to arrive that night. And he did not lie. After the ding-dong of the clock the doors were opened with a heavenly air giving way to Jungkook who smiled in surprise when he ran into the table so well decorated.

“And this?” Jungkook asked, lost in the planned details of the table. Of course, his eyes stopped glad when he saw the fruit bowl, more specifically the strawberries crowned on top.

"I still haven't thanked you for taking me to the Alps," she said, clasping her hands in her lap to squeeze them nervously. Jungkook frowned in amusement and then shook his head in denial.

"I did not do it to reward me. However, I must say that I will not reject this wonder. My God, they are my mother's strawberries!" Jungkook shouted excitedly at last recognizing the smell of the red frit. Lina laughed, tempted by her childlike behavior.

Soon after they began to have dinner. The dishes did not take long to be emptied by the excruciating hunger that both possessed. However, that brief period gave them enough time to have a little chat. After finishing a session of laughter for a Jungkook joke about his wet uncle's hair. I snap my fingers, suddenly bringing up a floating orchestra that soon begins to play classical music. Lina raised her eyebrows tempted as Jungkook rose from his chair and offered her hand to invite her to dance.

She didn't know how long they had been holding each other but since the first chorus of the first song Lina had let herself go, resting her cheek on her chest. Jungkook's hands spread apart, one squeezing her waist to attract her and the other holding her hand firmly. Jungkook breathed in his hair, the sweet smell of honey led him to a kind of trance from which he did not want to leave. He squeezed her tighter, he needed to feel her small body melt into his. Lina formed a nice little smile as the warmth of her body hugged her tighter. After finishing the song, an invisible force seduced her to come out of her hiding place and she will raise her head towards Jungkook. The god leaned his neck to brush against their noses making the girl close her eyes. It was all so wonderful. When Lina's eyes opened again, she met Jungkook's dark eyes that desperately clamored for his attention. From the first time in a long time it felt like I was in the right place. There, in Jungkook's arms seeing how he leaned more and more towards his lips. When they were brushed, he pointed out that they were kissed for the first time, a rather familiar melody that made Lina come out of the trance and watch the lost floating instruments.

“What's wrong?” Jungkook asked worried about the tension that began to build up in the shoulders of the girl who had not taken her eyes off the instruments.

"That song ..." she began to speak but was forced to stop by the saliva accumulated in her throat that forced her to swallow. "That song was played by my father to calm me down when I was little."

Jungkook widened his eyes aware of the serious mistake he had made. Feeling guilty for being responsible for stealing his joy.

"Sorry, Lina, let me remove it."

"No!" She cried desperately. Jungkook let his heavily suspended arm drop. "Please don't take it off ... That song reminds me of him."

The atmosphere of love vanished as Lina walked to the table with her back to Jungkook. The god watched from a distance as she reached out to touch a half-empty glass.

"You miss him, don't you?"

"Yes," he agreed. Then he turned and gave her a sad grimace with his lips. Jungkook was lost in the marble floor when his discomfort led him to the darkness of the depths of his mind.

"What if I told you that you can see him again as many times as you want?"

Lina raised her head excitedly.

“Is that possible?” She asked with all the innocence in the world. Jungkook nodded with a bright smile. "Then she would be the happiest woman in the world."

To say that suffering the state of happiness was not pleasant would be telling lies. The next day, Jungkook had arranged a cloud to bring him down to the mainland, more specifically towards my father's castle. In the course of the trip he had not been able to stop admiring the wheat fields that decorated the surroundings. He smiled as he remembered how many times he had lost himself in that tall grass. As expected, people reacted with surprise when he saw her come down from that spongy structure. Soon after, he found his father sitting in the throne room.

Lina intended to get closer but stopped abruptly when I catch the heavy air from the atmosphere. His father was sad, he noticed it in the decline of his shoulders and how his smile had completely disappeared to exchange it for a weak grimace.

"Hello, Dad." His voice hit the old king's ears as if it were an apparition. Instantly I lift my head like a new spring. Her hands hugged her mouth in excitement when she saw the figure of her daughter at the doors.

“Lina?” Asked the old man lost in emotion. When the girl nodded in a smile, the man knew that it was not a mirage, the fruit of sleepless nights. It was real. His daughter. Her little girl was there. The king came down from the throne to run towards his daughter and thus melt into a hug so needed for the months without seeing each other. "My sweet girl ... I've missed you so much."

"And I, Daddy," I cry helplessly, hiding my face in his father's chest. The man began to gently caress her head to make sure, again, that the presence of his daughter was not the result of his imagination. Then I grab Lina by the shoulders so I can see her better.

“Has he set you free?” Asked the old man, yearning for hope. Lina smiled, exchanging it for a serious grimace. When he shook his head, his father's joy disappeared from the window. Feeling her daughter's tears run down her rosy cheeks, she raised her fingers to remove them. "I would give my life to exchange with you, my child."

"Don't suffer, dad." The girl wrapped her hands around her father's wrists to reassure him, "He treats me very well. What's more, he let me see you."

But the foolish king ends up turning his back on his daughter. The deepest part of him could not bear to hear how happy she sounded when she said that this selfish god made her happier than he, his own father.

"That right shouldn't be done as a favor." He roared against the god. Lina furrowed her eyebrows in embarrassment. Her heart had turned black and her jovial voice had been transformed into a much rougher, more threatening one. Lina raised a hand to touch her father's shoulder, however, some doors were thrown open and a soldier looking quite distressed entered them.

"My king the red soldiers ... Princess Lina."

Lina reacted with a nod. However, even though the soldier's posture had calmed down a bit in his presence when his eyes went back to the king they tensed again.

“Daddy, is something wrong?” She asked, quite concerned, interspersed with confused glances between the soldier and her father. The old king watched his daughter with a forced smile before commanding the soldier to shut up with a look full of warning.

"No, my life." But her denial had sounded so tense that Lina didn't believe her. "Nana is in the kitchen, she goes looking for him, I'm sure she'll love to see you."

It was the last thing he said before leaving the doors in the company of the soldier.

...

It had been a day full of activities. The nanny, as expected, had received him with great joy in a maternal hug. He had spent practically his entire visit in the kitchen drinking tea and eating nana's cheesecakes. Between bite and sip they had been engulfed in a conversation about what their life on Olympus was like. He told her about Hera, a very tender goddess who treated her as her own daughter despite being mortal. He told him about Taehyung, who later explained that it was Apollo but that he had asked him to call him by his mortal name. And of course, the most talked about topic was Jungkook. He had had to reassure him because the moment he named the god he began to hyperventilate. She told him that all these months Jungkook had managed to win her heart, that they were very good friends and that he treated her very well. She was still blushing from the look so mischievous that the nanny showed her in the talk.

Now, already on Olympus, he was walking back to his home. Entering through the door, Taehyung was unexpectedly found in the middle of the room.

"Hello, Lina." Tae greeted warmly through a small bow.

"Hello," she replied with the same enthusiasm as the god. After the introductions Lina could not help looking for another god with her eyes but stopped doing it when she realized that Taehyung was alone. "And Jungkook?"

"He's not here." His voice came out fast and compulsive as if he was trying to avoid something. However, she didn't pay much attention to it, since, she assumed it to the shyness that the god still felt for her. "How has the visit to your father gone?"

"How?"

"Being all day above heaven you are used to seeing everything that happens on earth," Taehyung explains with a shrug.

"I understand ..." I pursed my lips and raised my eyebrows. "Well, actually, it went very well."

“You missed him, didn't you?” The god's voice changed suddenly, sounding understanding. Lina broke the smile by walking on topics that plunged her into a feeling of longing.

"Much."

"The summer solstice is approaching a time to spend with the family," said the god so vagini. Lina looked at Taehyung carefully. He did not know it but in reality it had sounded as if that phrase had wanted to say it but it had been difficult for him to pronounce it.

“What?” She asked with a sarcastic laugh. He did not understand her sudden curiosity. His curiosity was accompanied by something more than innocence but he could not decipher what it was.

"I'm sorry if my question offended you. I'm just curious to know how you feel about having the option of choosing to be someone else. You know, choosing what you want to be tomorrow without the guidelines to follow that are governed by your nature."

"Oh. Well ..." he was speechless at his attack of sincerity. Her mind had suddenly gone blank. "... I would choose the previous life ..." Her voice sounded so sincere that her heart thumped. His heart was not the only one that was pounding because behind a wall at the entrance to the bedroom was a heartbroken Jungkook. Her eyes closed in pain. I had hoped that in those months ... But no. She still wanted her life from before. I preferred never having met him. Willing not to mistreat himself anymore, he went out onto the balcony, unaware that the girl had not finished talking. "... but that was before all this. During these months I have changed a lot. My perspective on the world was not the same until I really lived. It will sound silly but I don't want to leave as much as before. I don't know, I suppose I've found a habit in my life now. "

"I'm glad to hear that." Taehyung spoke sincerely. Both smiled absent all the evil that would come later.

When fear coupled with anger create an explosive mix. Every god that crossed Jungkook moved out of his way in a hurry. The god frowns so intensely that his eyes will pop out of their sockets at any moment. He couldn't stop blaming himself. Of hating himself for being so weak before a woman. Listening in the first person as he rejected it had been completely devastating. He no longer cared about anything he might long for before.

He broke in with his strong figure in the assembly area where his father, mother, uncle and sister were discussing something that the god did not mind interrupting.

“Zeus!” He shouted with such anger that the gods turned to him immediately. The god of lightning went down a few steps to position himself in front of his son. They both frown, punishing themselves with inhuman hatred. One for his aching heart and the other for having been stopped in a real fight of words. Hera touched her desolate chest when Jungkook after relaxing his depressed features fell to his knees before his father. With her head down so as not to see him because of the vengeance of not having been able to prevent some tears from leaking down her cheeks.

"You were always right. You always were ..." Jungkook repeated dead while alive. His tone without force hit Zeus in such a way that his bad mood quickly dissipated.

"What are you talking about, my son?" He replied with the same lost nostalgia. He raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth slightly, finding himself enveloped in an aura consumed by sadness.

"She will never love me ..." he confessed with a broken voice letting the melancholy slowly drown him. After a brief silence Jungkook gained enough courage to direct his eyes to his father's. "She hates me."

Zeus instantly looked away from his son to turn around to focus on his wife's impressed posture. Hera with her heart in her fist made the same journey to stand in front of him.

"I have come to receive my punishment," Jungkook said in a voice as dark as sad. Zeus blinked nervously just before his arm was terribly shaken by a desperate Hera.

"Zeus, you can't ...

“Is that what you want?” Zeus asked as a last resort to appeal to his conscience. But Jungkook didn't take that time to think but rather to find more reasons to accept his mistake.

"It's what I swore," he sentenced with all the pain in his soul. Zeus had his chin raised. He stay quiet. It really was the first time that something left him speechless. When I lift a hand and place it on top of her head Hera widened her eyes hysterically.

"Zeus no .... No! Athena! Poseidon! Please stop this madness!" The goddess turned to them for help finding an unemployed Yon as or almost more affected than her mother. Jin, on the other hand, had decided not to intervene, as something happened between father and son.

"From today until the end of time I take away your condition ..." the god closed his lips again, not wanting to finish the sentence. Within his chest he still harbored a small speck of hope that cried out that his son would regret his decision, that he would get up and that a few days later the matter would be more than forgotten. But unluckily for the god, Jungkook, had inherited that stubborn part of his family branch by keeping his knee firmly against the ground. "From god."

"Zeus not for God's sake!" Cried Hera, totally overwhelmed. Divine light welled up from Jungkook's body to fade shortly thereafter revealing dark skin whose only difference was that it was no longer impenetrable. Jungkook felt his body try to fail forward because of the weakness that amazed him all at once. He felt as if his structure was not as strong, as if his muscles had begun not to help him up.

"You will be provided with a cloud to bring you down to earth," Zeus commented through a harsh tone that only hid how bad he felt at the time. He had an anguish that bent him forward. Jungkook didn't even look at him before heading out the doors. Hera sobbed so loudly that Zeus closed his eyes as the goddess's footsteps began to sound as he followed Jungkook out.

"Jungkook!" No! Please, no… ”The screams had gone from torn to hoarse as a result of the tears that had begun to cloud her vision. She begged him to stop her walking but he ignored her for the good of both of them. Finally, as a last resort he ended up collapsing to the ground on his knees and grabbing one of Jungkook's legs. When she felt her mother's cold fingers counteract with her warm skin, she had a devastating shiver.

"Mother, get up," he demanded annoyed, lifting his mother from the ground quite embarrassed. The goddess desperately denied before trying to get hooked again. Jungkook shook her shoulders to wake her up. "It was my decision." His roar left her paralyzed, still, shattered as she watched her son climb onto a cloud. Jungkook stared at the floor of the mortal world making him swallow by pure inertia. The empty knot that settled in her stomach made it difficult for her to breathe an increase in dimension when she directed one last glance at Hera. "Goodbye, mother."

"Jungkook!" Jungkook! ”The goddess screamed, kicking the ground in a fury but it was too late. The cloud had moved far enough away that she couldn't touch it. Plunged into a deep pain that would be forever etched in her soul, I ignore everything around her. Not seeing when one of his children approached.

“What's wrong?” Taehyung's sweet voice shakes her violently causing her to raise her head in despair.

"Where's Lina?" Asked the needy goddess.

"In the mansion but what ...

"There is no time for explanations. Your father has committed an unforgivable injustice ...

The goddess quickly rose from the ground and began to run towards what until that day had been the home of her now banished son.

“Lina!” Hera's desperate screams bounced off every corner creating a heartbreaking atmosphere. Lina, who until then had remained on the balcony admiring the sweet view of the clear sky, had been scared to hear that someone urgently needed her.

“What's wrong Hera?” She asked disoriented when she saw Hera with tears in her eyes and a confused Taehyung behind.

"Do you love my son?"

"What?" She replied, lost in the abruptness of her tone. He managed to perceive true urgency in his face, leaving her even more out of place. Then, noticing Taehyung's sad appearance, his chest managed to alter in such a way that he began to fear the worst. “Has something happened to Jungkook?” Despite the stability of his voice, it could be judged how his extended expressions reflected the clear concern. After the silence of both, Lina was shaken by a feeling of madness. "What happened? Speak!"

"Zeus has taken away his god status," said Taehyung, who had listened to the quick story his mother had told him before breaking into the mansion. Hera covered her face to silence the tired sobs from so much trembling. Lina heard her heart stop at that very moment.

"Why?" Overwhelmed by the new devastating news, her breathing increased leaving her dizzy for a couple of minutes.

"Because Jungkook believes that the deal has been broken," Hera muttered under his breath, immediately taking Lina's gaze that until then had remained in Taehyung since he spoke.

"What deal?"

"At the beginning of winter, he and Zeus reached an agreement if you did not fall in love with him before the summer solstice would come, he would give up his life," Taehyung explained in great detail with all the regret of his soul. Hera nodded corroborating the facts as she approached Lina.

"Now I need you to tell me if everything that has happened has been the result of deceptive confusion."

"I have to speak to Zeus," Lina said hurriedly. Hera saw that gesture as the light that still shone within hope.

After breaking into the meeting room with the name of Zeus, being violently acclaimed by the mortal, the god did not take long to make himself present. When he saw her attacked with his wife and son, he rolled his eyes. She wanted to regret her son's farewell in solitude. What she needed least now was that her sensitive state was a dispute with a mortal.

"I see you've already been told the story."

"You made a mistake with Jungkook." If what he really wanted was to take revenge on me, he should have done it directly with me, ”she demanded, letting herself be carried away by the stress of the situation. Zeus furrowed his eyebrows offended by his tone so altered that it hit his headache hard.

"Who are you tasteless mortal who dares tell the god of gods what to do?"

"I am the mortal who loves her son." I finally confess the greatest secret kept within her warm heart. The hall of gods was filled with shocked screams being a few, those of Hera, Taehyung and Yon the only ones who showed a pleased grimace.

"I don't believe you," Zeus roared in response. He turned his back on her, unable to keep his gaze so cold that the mortal stared at him in fury.

"It's the truth." But she roared louder from the depths of her being.

"I am old and wise you will be used to deceiving your kind but you will not entangle me." Zeus's voice sounded firm, quite hard even though inside he had not been able to prevent his heart from jumping briefly.

"It is no wrong."

“Have you forced her to come?” The god abruptly turned to Hera to rebuke her passionate behavior. Although, in reality, what was correcting him had been the fact that he had gone to beg for help from a mortal, and especially the mortal who had caused Jungkook's departure.

"I came on my own." When Lina spoke bravely Zeus's eyes locked on her again.

"You're late anyway, the evil is already done." Although he was dying of pain, he was not entirely uncertain. I just wanted to see how that conversation played out.

"You are Zeus, let me doubt it." Lina assured with a laugh almost as sarcastic as her smile. "If the problem was my stay, it can be solved by sending me back to earth." But Jungkook does not have to pay for this and you do not have the right for gods' sake to take away his power.

"Would you be willing to go back to your house and forget all this?" Zeus repeated, keeping his composure, being quite difficult to suppress the surprise that had come over him when he heard her so sure.

"I would be." The courageous gleam in his eyes gave Zeus the last confirmation he needed.

"This is my deal, I will return Jungkook's powers on the only condition that you leave Olympus forever."

"I accept it."

Zeus, as with Jungkook stopped for a few seconds so that Lina will show her true nature. But seeing that the woman didn't utter a single word and then her chin was slightly raised, I just nodded. I raise my right hand and snap my fingers.

Lina, dead inside, looked at Hera for a few seconds before looking at Zeus and turning to leave. Unlike Jungkook, this time, Hera did manage to stop Lina. Taking him by the hands to give him a squeeze that simulated true gratitude. Lina opted to give him a longing smile before redirecting her way out.

The loud slamming of the gates was entirely outrageous.

"I admit that I have been surprised by your courage and I must say that my son will be stupid but also very lucky."

Lina frowned, turning her eyes from the closed doors to the god who had approached and activated a much softer smile.

"Thank you, Zeus," she said. He nodded to show her respect.

"Call me father," the god answered back. Unlike his previous tone this time he had used a more peaceful one. Lina opened her eyes when I decipher the meaning of her words. "As far as exile is concerned, I think it would be quite a petty action to separate two souls who love each other." I hope you make my son happy and when he returns from the war ...

“What war?” Lina suddenly stopped at the god, frowning hard.

"Didn't Jungkook tell you?" Wow, I don't want to sin with my long tongue but ... Apparently a novice prince has threatened your father's kingdom, Jungkook must be helping with his troops right now. Although from that hours ago I suppose he will be back ...

Lina runs towards the doors to open them desperately on her way to the mansion with her heart in her hand. Everything begins to make sense. Jungkook's mysterious meetings with a group of humans. The golden armor that I had never seen him wear polished and put on at first standing out among all as if he would soon wear it. His father's nerves as he looked at the sword carefully placed in the case of his armor. The soldier's hustle. Everything had been in front of her these weeks and yet he had focused so much on her that she had gone blind. Perhaps it was concern that manipulated her feet to make them move faster. The only thing he knew faithfully was that when he opened the doors of the mansion and saw his broad back, he put his hands to his mouth.

As expected the startle of the doors hitting the wall surprised Jungkook turning disoriented until a much smaller body and much softer hands surrounded his neck, it was at that moment when he could say that he had come home.

“Lina?” Jungkook's voice came out concerned, low at the closeness of their bodies. God's arms delicately held her waist to hold her in place. Lina, tiptoeing to reach his neck, contracted her face from the hollow of the shoulder to look at him. Jungkook was overworked when he saw how her beautiful green eyes were drowned in tears. He brought his thumbs to her cheeks to clean them, making the girl emit a small sob.

"Why did you do it?" She said, exhaling a hoarse sigh that penetrated the depths of her being. Jungkook relaxed his features in surprise when he understood her sadness. However, she did not imitate his melancholic smile, on the contrary, at that moment the corners of Jungkook rose forming a small but so emotional smile "You ..." but I ended up being controlled by a small spasm from crying. "You no longer had your powers. You were no longer a god. Why did you fight knowing that you could die?"

"Mortal or god. Life or death. What difference does it make? I would give everything I have and don't have so that smile never disappears." There were no more accurate words to explain the whole swirl of feelings that roar in his chest. Jungkook kept his hands firmly pressed to his cheeks as he saw the sweetest look ever produced as his sad and desolate aura changed to one with an air full of hope and love. I hear her heart beat a thousand times an hour, observing every beautiful detail of her face, trying to decipher the look her sweet eyes showed. "Lina, I ..."

But his lips were quicker in that battle to speak. Taking him by surprise the girl pounced with enthusiasm towards those soft bellies. He managed to feel a chill from head to toe when he finally fulfilled his most desired wishes. When she felt Jungkook's lips not quite begin to move, she stopped, looking away, terrified that she had been seized by his impulses and not thought that maybe he had been too hasty. Opening the eyes he had closed when his lips collided with hers, he found dilated irises that had taken the form of black spheres. Lina couldn't help her mouth from looking slightly open when his wild gaze cursed her. With highly rapid breathing falling in hot waves on her lip, drying her sweetly. The blood drained from his face completely as Jungkook pressed his neck forward to stamp his lips with hers in a lustful kiss.

She immediately opened her mouth letting her tongue enter anxiously. Soon, the hands squeezing her shoulders had grown into small fists in her hair, causing strands to escape from her hands. Jungkook's palms marched his way down the curve of his butt to settle at the start of his thighs. He lifted one of them to stick it to his leg while lifting it minimally towards one of the columns. Her back curved forward being cornered by his firm chest. The palm that encircled her thigh with her hip had begun to lift the fabric of her long dress uncovering her sweet leg. It didn't take long for his hot fingers to go through the gap, working ardently toward her bottom to knead it. Her broad knee clenching at her sweet spot as her other hand slipped to one of her shoulders to eagerly pull the fabric down. The fabric cracked but none cared. Jungkook peeled his lips away in a wet snap to start giving wet kisses across his jaw. His hands clenched into fists as his knee finally sat on the wall. Fascinated by his ease at holding her, he groaned heatedly as the moisture from her crotch began to trickle down the edges of her panties rather than stained.

“Tell me what you want, baby?” With her lips slipping vilely over his pulse, she was terribly intimidated when an almost shallow kiss caressed the junction of her neck. He lifted his leg, driving the tip of her knee into her swollen clit making a needy moan come urgently from his lips.

"I want you ..." I whisper in an agitated howl when I hear the fabric of her skirt tear up to above her navel. Jungkook made a curious sound with his mouth as he slid the hand that had been on his behind into the panties. The nails immediately grasped the biceps of that arm urgently, causing a smile to form on his skin.

"You have to be more specific, there are many things I can do to you right now ..." he commented with an air of comfort as he let his skillful fingers touch the porcelain skin of her vagina. Unconsciously, Lina spread her legs wider to let him pass but Jungkook didn't move, just squeezed so he would notice where he was. With a kiss on her cheek she buried her mouth in his ear to whisper hotly. "I can urge you with my fingers or I can also eat your little kitten until you scream my name, since you would love it and fuck me too. But ... Do you know what I want to do? I want to spread your legs and fuck you against the wall while you cry because your little pussy will not be able to bear the size of my big cock. "

"Yes, yes ..." I whimpered in response to the harsh words that savagely hit her ear. His nails dug deeper into her forearm, making a deafening growl erupt from the back of her throat. Her body came to be supported only by her knee as she brought her hand to his neck to propel her into a quick kiss, full of tongue and despair. As they parted, Lina swore that if Jungkook kept smiling like this, he would end up in an orgasm as soon as he started. I bring her thumb to her bottom lip to drag it down and squeeze it with lust. His pupils black as he reveled in the swelling and redness of it.

"I've never fucked a virgin before, I promise I'll take care of you," he murmured in a conciliatory tone, his hand on her chin, tilting her head in a sweet smile. Lina nodded slowly in response. His lip bounced when he released it. Jungkook bowed his head and caught her lips again, this time, with a tremendously sensual slow kiss. Palms firmly on her thighs, I lift her up quickly to take her to the bed to lay her down. Lina closed her eyes as she moaned in shock when Jungkook's hands tore at the little attached fabric of her dress leaving him naked. we are going to spend tonight ... "I announce dry with eyes wandering around every curve, every piece of bare skin. His huge palm began a shallow journey along his body, stopping just at the convergence point of his legs. His thumb delicately rubbed her red clit as her lopsided smile came out again. Lina tilted her head back when she heard his deep voice full of lust again. "Are you going to let me taste your virgin pussy, baby?"

"Jungkook ..." she complained, she felt a not soft bite on her inner thigh. Jungkook laughed pleasedly giving another in response to the other thigh leaving a red mark that would later be impregnated with purple. Everything reached its peak when he felt his flat tongue pass superficially across his lips. The girl's hand ran to tighten her locks in excitement prompting Jungkook to repeat the smiling gesture. With her hands resting on the inside of her thighs, she spread her legs wider to improve access. He ran his tongue again, but this time he was parting his lips with his fingers to savor her dripping hole. Lina swore to die of a spasm when she noticed how his mouth absorbed all her essence, moaning satisfied soon after. The finger that had been dancing around her clit had been slammed into her hole, earning Lina a loud scream. The sensation was not entirely painful, it was just a small annoying intrusion that was gradually pushed aside by the anxious tongue that caressed the crack. When her moans began to stabilize Jungkook stuck out his thumb and inserted two fingers. Lina groaned loudly at the pressure pulling at her roots. Jungkook kissed her clit to reassure her. The fingers took a while to start his movement, giving him the necessary time to get used to it, soon he began to ask for more between moans, despair, spread his legs more ... Until she was blessed by a third finger. The pressure was still there, yet it wasn't as bad as she'd imagined the pleasure overshadowing everything else. Soon after, a rather overwhelming balloon began to accumulate in her lower abdomen. She did not know that she was just aware that she urgently needed to free herself. Jungkook felt the need for her moans increasing the movement of his tongue over her clitoris followed by the sticking out of his fingers. "God, god ... Jung-koook!" God!

"Come on, you dirty little run for me."

His words were all it took to explode a loud scream of pleasure. A strong cramp ran through her body from head to toe leaving her paralyzed. Her stomach rising and falling from exhaustion. His mouth parted as he breathed out heavy air. His eyes half closed with the feeling of calm that had clouded his vision. Jungkook took advantage of that moment to remove each part of the armor. The quick movement made Lina look forward agitated. I gulp at the heavenly image. Her tanned skin filled with muscles taut from the pressure. Her wonderful pecs with pink nipples that evoked madness. He followed a downward path down his sprawling arm until he was breathless when he saw what his hand was drowning. Long, thick and big his cock was beautiful, worthy of a god. The tone of its exquisite skin but with the red tip with precum accumulated at its tip. He reached out to touch her but his exhaustion was such that he could only slide the tips of his fingers across his chiseled abs.

She groaned disoriented when she felt the weight of her body crush his. I bring my palms to his broad back, delighting in the softness of his skin. A wet kiss on her neck to distract her from what's truly important. The tip of his cock ran through her folds to lubricate her previous orgasm. The feeling, far from being rough, seemed soft, a little cold but pleasant. His hands hooked to her waist to place her under his heavy body. Lina, her eyes half-open focused on the magenta light of sunset, smiled briefly until excruciating pain began to settle inside her. He closed his eyes tightly. Gimio hurt with her nails digging accordingly and her legs closing against his waist. Jungkook reassured her with small murmurs in her ear until the pain became secondary after a while. The pressure of the nails left her strength, the complaint in her voice stopped being heard.

"You can move ..." she announced in a weak but sure voice. Jungkook stroked her thighs reassuringly before moving her hips. Jungkook growled pleased with the pleasure, covering Lina's small moan. Jungkook moved again, tearing a louder moan from her. Finally, taking enough courage, she turned her head and collided with her nose. He groaned again with his mouth open as he felt her deep thrust. She brought her legs up and gently squeezed his back, bringing a smile from him as he noticed her recent emotion.

"So tight ... fucking tight ... oh fuck." He growled in satisfaction at her moans. I attack his mouth with emphasis a brief moment before moving away from his lips and lunging a little harder. Lina squeezed her back, throwing her head back, exposing her neck for Jungkook to kiss the point of her pulse.

"Faster ..." he yelled when his hips were thrown forward along with his. Her movement was so deep, so fast, so sensual. I had never felt so much pleasure. He felt that his throat would ache tomorrow but he couldn't help but scream every time Jungkook hit his hips enthusiastically.

"That's ..." he roared loudly in his mouth as his nose wrinkled and his forehead sweated from the heat. Lina moaned, roared, cried whatever sound she was going to expel through her mouth had stopped being controlled. "What a good fuck it is taking my cock so well." He reached up to squeeze her tit hard while he fucked her harder. Lina moaned as her tongue went to wet her erect nipple. A hard impulse caused both of them to moan with pleasure and they looked at each other with an ecstatic smile. Jungkook kissed her lips like an animal before separating and colliding their foreheads. He put a finger into her mouth on the spur of the moment, the same one he inserted into her vagina earlier, allowing her to savor her own scent. Afterward, he began to massage her burning clit with force. "I want you to wet my cock again before I come, understand?"

Lina nodded agitatedly closing her eyes and moaning her head back. Jungkook growled in disapproval, violently grabbing his neck to force him to look at him.

“Use your fucking mouth!” He roared loudly, ramming him too enthusiastically. Tomorrow she probably couldn't walk but she didn't mind moaning louder and spreading her legs wider. "If that?"

“Yes, Jungkook!” She replied in a sharp cry, overwhelmed by the tension building up again. Jungkook's finger began to rub harder, soon bringing her to a much more devastating orgasm. He called out her name one last time before dipping his cock in her scent. Jungkook dropped to his knees. He placed his palms on her hips, not letting her rest as he let her head drop with pleasure. Lina moaned in pain from over excitement but did not stop. She let him continue to lash out at her as hard as he wanted using her to reach her orgasm. Two more deep thrusts and Jungkook ran to get his cock out of her. I jerk her violently against her stomach until jets of sperm finally came out wetting her entire belly. Jungkook slumped forward, letting himself be carried away by exhaustion. Lina hugged him, ignoring the sticky moisture from her stomach. Afterward, Jungkook came out of the trance by lying on one side. He caught her by the waist to place her on top of him with his leg above her pelvis.

"You know what?" She commented enthusiastically, sending him a bright look. Jungkook lovingly inhaled her hair before pressing her small body against his.

"Than?"

"I love you too," she murmured in a low tone as if she was reciting a secret that she just wanted Jungkook to hear. He raised his eyebrows playfully making her laugh.

"You know what?" Jungkook asked, pursing his lips as he groaned thoughtfully.

“What?” Lina's laughter made him want to live.

"You smell like semen, baby."

“Jungkook!” She yelled shocked as she raised her hand to hit her stomach. The god laughed at Lina's red cheeks, not being able to hold her very tight.

"Oh, yes, yes, come here."

[hughiecampbelle]

Baby Teeth (Thomas Shelby Oneshot)

Character/s: Thomas

Word Count: 1,321

Inspired By: kind of based off this imagine

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @death-of-a-mermaid @lotsoffandomrecs @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @theshelbyclan @captivatedbycillianmurphy @creativemayhems @soleil-dor @thegirlwithoutaname87

A/N: Just a lil something that's been collecting dust in my writers block folder for a while. I am so sorry about the lack of posts my loves, things will go back to normal very soon. Thank you for your patience and understanding 💜💖💜

Gif Credit: @nofckingfighting :)

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO. / PART THREE.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

Burned out. Burned up. Your entire body turned to ash, bits and pieces of charcoal cracked off in your bed, dust coating the cheeks of your children, the remains of your lips burned into his cheeks. A crushing weight on the bones of a ruin, your cracked foundation threatening to cave in. Too strong a wind would have collapsed every strength you had just to pull yourself together, to get out of bed every morning and face the day. Fragile. Exhausted. The circles under your eyes threatening rain, staring back at him from across the table. Prominent. Resembling bruises. He couldn't remember the last time you'd slept through the night, the last time you truly relaxed. You were the result of a house fire, a burning building, a candle left unwatched. You were the stresses of the day, the what if's at night, every terrible thing that could ever happen to you, your family, him. You watched the ghosts so no one else had to.

You could only describe it as drowning. Wasting in the bath, your skin pruned, unable to breathe, choking, your head above water. Your heart racing, rejecting the very body it slept in, pounding, screaming, clawing it's way out. Your breathing labored, conscious, too loud to be your own. The air stung. Tiny hands patting the door, giggles erupting from the other side, a whine escaping one of them. They shouldn't be up this late. Past bedtime. How long had you been sitting here? Pull yourself together. Pick yourself up, one step at a time, one breath in, the next out. Sloppy buttons, wet hair, hands shaking, steadying with the doorknob. A second thought, a want to go back, to scald your own skin in the tub until it was floating in soggy chunks and pieces, too big to be washed down the drain. Maybe that would lessen the weight, the pressure, the tension. Maybe it wouldn't. You were always too forgiving with your chances.

Tossing, turning beside him, startled by the dreams. Even in sleep, these things were inescapable. A terrible feeling left you raw, scared of the dark, checking under the bed, in the closet for things made of shadows. He'd caught you, only once. Frantic, searching for relief, for a pairs of eyes to look back at you. Looking for something you knew wasn't really there. If you didn't check, something bad would happen. It would show up. Exhausted, in a yawn he beckoned you back to bed, holding you close. If you got up again, he would know. Didn't matter. No eyes. Not under the bed, not in the closet, not waiting the corner for you to turn your back. Another night safe. Another night awake. Too late to check the soil, to press your palm to the soft wet grass the way you used to. No use, though. Six feet under. There wouldn't be a heartbeat anyways.

The doors, the windows, every lock you could remember checked twice. Sometimes, when the dark was too quiet, too still, you'd carry them one by one to your bed, needing them to be close, to be safe. Apologize for waking them, stirring them from their sweetest dreams, tucking them in with a kiss and a promise of everlasting love. One in your arms, another in his, the rest lay where they fall. Objects of comfort, stuffed animals and pacifiers, baby dolls and cloths littered the bed like landmines. Little hands and feet ice cold pressed against you, a welcomed discomfort. He didn't flinch as he was pulled at, tugged on, all of it a reflex now. Hush them, rock them, will them to sleep again. Without the cap, the coat, those starry night eyes of his closed, he almost looked human.

Baby drool dried in the pillows, tiny snores filling between you, but the distance was an ocean wide. Call it what he may, he knew you were right. Burning greater in these moments. The only one awake, aware, left to brew in your own worries. Regret spilling over your insides, erroding you, your belly full of every bad decision. This life took its toll. The threats. The violence. The way he almost smirked when the blood of others finally washed out of his collar. A second death. The moment that ring slipped around your finger the Grimm Reaper started stepping on your heels. You'd done enough. Faced enough. Scars across your mind, body, and soul the result of the Blinders and their drama. Recovery never easy, the aches and pains living even after the scars have faded, that shop becoming a constant reminder. You put up with it though, because you loved him, and because saying yes was your decision.

But it was not theirs.

A big family, that's what you always wanted. A home full of warmth, of love, of enough mouths to feed to start an army. Hesitant, he was, but not for the reasons you should have been. The world wasn't so scary for a man who saw war. When he walked, others moved. When he spoke, they quited. His presence demanded everyone's attention. He never realized though, he brought that war home, back to Birmingham, to your bed, in his blood. He was only scared of the father he'd be. But you? You knew how easy soft skin caught on the sharpest edges of this life. Every scrape, bump, bruise, cry, it only made the dangers that much more prominent, that much more deadly.

First smiles, first laughs, first words and steps. He promised he'd be there for it all, each of them. Sometimes he was, sometimes he wasn't, but he tried. He loved it, celebrated every milestone no matter how small. You were more careful, more cautious. The first day of school, first tooth, first crush, and every broken heart after that, all of it meant they were hurling towards adulthood, towards their own freedom. For a Shelby, the likelihood of seeing another day dwindled as the candles on the cake grew. Tommy assured you, over each crib and sleeping infant, he would do what it took to protect them, no one would ever hurt a hair on your child's head. Talk was so easy, though, so cheap. He promised the same the night of your wedding, and at your bedside every time after that when he failed. You couldn't bear the thought of history repeating itself in them. If it was between you and them, you made him promise, cross his heart and hope to die, stick a needle in his eye, he would save them.

Always.

He knew. You didn't tell him, but he knew. They all did. They could read in the ways you dug at your skin just to calm down, the ways you paced back and forth, how attentive you were to every coo or gurgle, the glaze over your eyes when they spoke of anything yellowed by the past, brightened by the future. This moment was the only place your thoughts could live. Life was too heavy right now. It wasn't just you and him anymore. It wasn't only your broken bones, or the ringing in your ears, or the paralyzing fear when anything resembling a gunshot pops. It was theirs now and you knew no matter how easy it was to put the blame in his hands, it was your fault, too. It was a decision you both made, a step you took together. Your children were your world, a slice of your own personal heaven, proof there was someone looking out for you after all. They were your pride and joy, the only happiness you found when the thought of a smile was impossible. They were also your greatest weakness, a vulnerability like no other. If anyone ever wanted to get through you, hollow you out, they would use your children against you.

No one knew that better than this family.

[animepreferences]

P R E F E R E N C E # 3 - D R U N K S H E N A N I G A N S

A K U T A G A W A

“If you ever return her to me in less than perfect condition again...Well, Y/N, wouldn’t really appreciate me finishing that statement. Just don’t let it happen again. Understood?” The seriousness that his face illustrated was even more frightening than the inflection in his voice. The two friends nodded in agreement, unable to muster up the words and courage to apologize again. Furthermore, they thought it might be better to not say anything at all at this point. Which is why after a few awkward seconds they began to back away slowly before scurrying down the porch, almost tripping over each other to get back in their car. Aku could hardly hide his chuckle as he turned to enter the house where he could hear you fumbling around in the kitchen. “Now, what am I supposed to do with you?” He muttered to himself, amusement flitting to his face. “I’m so hungry.” You pouted, arms crossed, lip jutted out. “Did your mean friends not even feed you?” Aku inquired, beginning to pull out a pan and fill it with water. “No. They took me straight home. They knew you’d probably be mad and they didn’t want to make matters worse by getting me home later. I think they’re frightened by you.” Akutagawa couldn’t help but to smirk at this, turning the heat on the stove as he began to prepare your very late dinner. “Smart friends. How does ramen sound? The carbs will be good for you, soak up some of that alcohol.” Aku explained, biting his lip to avoid the smile that was fighting it’s way through. You had curled yourself around his backside, your arms wrapping tight around his waist. He could feel your warm cheek pressing to his shoulder blade, your hot breath sending internal shivers down his spine. He was so thankful you couldn’t hear his thoughts, let alone see his face; he was completely smitten by you and it was particularly hard to control when you were acting like this. “Mmmm. Sounds good. Though, Aku, would you mind giving me a kiss first please?” He rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. Sober Y/N was never this forward. “Of course,” Turning around to embrace you in a tight hug, he leaned down and brushed his lips against yours, electricity shooting all over his body in an invigorating frenzy. Your hands found their way to knot in his hair, his hands slipping to your lower back. Unlike most of your kisses that were typically very controlled and romantic, this one was wild and unpredictable. He almost let out a moan when you bit down on his lip, granting entrance for his tongue, your hand trailing down his chest slowly...“That’s enough for now.” Aku breathed, trying to recover from the whirlwind his head was currently in. “Woah,” you agreed, almost losing your footing as you stumbled backward. Aku was just in time to catch you in his arms, steadying you before leading you to a bar stool, forcing you to sit and rest. As he cooked your food, he couldn’t help but to thank the lucky stars that he could do this; that he could take care of you and be a good partner. It was a great feeling for him, being able to do this, knowing that he could be there for you when you needed. That is until he looked up and noticed you had already passed out there, head slumped in your arms. “You drunk little fox,” were his last words before draping a blanket over your shoulders while he finished cooking.

-

D A Z A I

“Careful, my love.” Dazai chided softly, his arms reaching to steady you after he threw an oversize t-shirt on the bed for you, as you fumbled to get your heels off. “Allow me,” He smiled politely, lifting you gracefully so that you were sitting promptly on the bed now. You both had just gotten home from a celebration party with the agency and you had ingested one too many glasses of champagne. “There you go,” He sighed, chucking your shoes behind him before massaging your swollen ankles. He never really understood why you wore such poor choices in shoes when they hurt you the way they did, but he couldn’t deny how irresistible your legs looked when you wore them. Then again, you looked irresistible all of the time to him. “Dazaiiiiiiiii, help!” you whined, scratching at your back trying to unzip your own dress. It took Dazai a moment to pick up on your endeavors, the soft kisses he was peppering on your ankles halting. “Of course, yes.” Dazai obliged, scurrying from the ground to join you on the bed. Slowly unzipping the back of your dress, Dazai tried his best to be a perfect gentlemen, failing miserably as he took in your nude back, clad in only your matching bra and panty set, lust twinkling in his eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat, letting out an exhale as he stared at the ceiling desperately trying to distract himself. ‘She’s drunk, she’s drunk, she’s drunk’, Dazai chanted to himself internally, trying his best not to touch what he so badly wanted to. “Much better.” You stated, standing to your feet, allowing the dress to drop around your ankles, leaving you nude right before his eyes. “Yes, indeed.” He bit his lip, his brain clouded when you walked over to him on the bed and straddled him. Fingers running through his shaggy locks, you leaned in and began to kiss him on the mouth with vehemence and passion. Dazai was shocked at your newfound confident nature, but wasn’t about to argue it as he reciprocated with the same fire and energy. Arms wrapping around your waist, he pulled you even closer deepening the kiss as he slipped his tongue in your mouth while you were attempting to catch your own breath. Untangling your fingers from his hair, your hands reached to unclaspe your bra clumsily. That’s when it all clicked for him. His head had been so full of excitement, that it took him a quick second to remember what was really happening. He could taste the alcohol on your breath, see the disconnect in your eyes; you weren’t all there. This was wrong. “Belladonna, I love you and I typically love when you try to undress yourself, but this isn’t right. You’re not all here at the moment unfortunately and I can’t in good concience do anything with you without your full, sober consent.” He spoke slowly so you would understand, but you only let out a huge puff of unsastisfied air in response. “This is me giving you my consent,” You leaned in for a kiss, but Dazai intercepted kissing your forehead instead, forcing your arms up as he tugged the oversized t-shirt over your head. “Y/N. You know we can’t.” Dazai reasoned, pulling the covers back as he pat the open space beside him. “But I can hold you until you fall asleep? How does that sound?” His words were like melting honey. How could you deny that even if you were drunk? You were never one to turn down Dazai cuddles. Collapsing against his chest, you let out a small ‘hmph’ in a disatisfied pout, trying to ignore how good his arms felt around your body. “I know I’m no fun, but I love you very much.” He said after a moment. You had attempted to say it back, but the drunkness was already taking over and you were already growing very tired. He laughed at your attempt nonetheless and smoothed your hair back lovingly. “You sure are a riot when you drink.” Were his last words before allowing him to fall asleep with you happily in his arms.

-

C H U U Y A

You had gone completely silent. Chuuya thought you had simply fallen asleep because typically car rides did that for you when you were drunk. Furthermore, he didn’t think much of it. That is until he heard the sniffling. And the fidgeting. And the ragged breathing. “Y/F/N.” He would say calmly, sneaking a glance over your way. He could already tell just by looking at you that you were trying to hide your face from him. You were an emotional drunk and you were definitely crying. “Y/N. Look at me,” He would demand, grabbing your hand in his and kissing your knuckles gently. Chuuya had witnessed this on so many occasions that he had grown desensitized to your overdramatic actions while under the influence. In fact, it was one of his favorite things to talk and joke about the next day because he knew it was simply just the alcohol taking its toll. That didn’t mean, however, he still wasn’t going to bust his ass to at least try and cheer you up. Your smile was priceless to him after all. “Baby, why are you crying?” He would sigh as you finally peaked at him through your hair. “Because I just-I just-I just love you so much, Chuuya!” You would gasp in between hysterical sobs, your crying becoming progressively louder as you threw your fists over your eyes. “You don’t even know how hot you are, it’s awful. I just want to kiss your stupid face all of the time.” You wailed miserably. Chuuya was quiet for a moment and then suddenly he broke out into a loud guffaw. Were you seriously crying over how much you loved him? And how hot you thought he was? Oh, how he was going to LOVE to remind you of this in the morning. Mortified wouldn’t even begin to touch on it. “And now you’re-you’re laughing at me! Do you not love me back anymore? That would suck a lot.” This made him laugh even harder, though he was making a genuine effort to calm down to comfort you even if you were being ridiculous. “My sweet, silly, beautiful girl. If only you knew how much I really loved you. Words cannot even begin to make a dent on the love I have for your very drunken self.” The car came to a halt as he pulled up to your shared apartment, turning to look at you with complete sincerity. “Why are you laughing then?” You would ask timidly, your tears now drying against your puffy cheeks. “Because It’s funny to me that you would even have to consider asking me if I still love you. I will always love you till my last breath and so on. Of course, I love you. I’ll scream it and wake up the entire neighbor hood if you want me to,” He offered opening his car door and slamming it before coming to the passenger side to get you. When you didn’t budge, he cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Well, aren’t you going to tell the neighbors?” He rolled his eyes, lifting up your unwiling body as he kicked the door shut with his foot. Oh, how he loved his very stubborn girlfriend. “I really do love you Y/N. More than I’ve ever loved anything in my life.” He soothed you, kissing the space in between your eyes as he walked you through the threshold of your apartment. “I love you Chuuya.”

[undertalethingems]

Bark at the Moon, Chapter 3: Lost Patience

<Previous / Next>

Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None

Chapter Summary: Reunited, the brothers try to get things back to normal. Sans thinks going back to where it all started holds the answer... but it’s never so simple.

Nearly a month had passed since Sans had retrieved his brother from his self-imposed exile. Despite wracking their brains and recalling trials no creature should have endured, neither had gotten any closer to remembering or rediscovering anything useful, and the stress was taking its toll. Papyrus collapsed from lack of sleep one day, and only reluctantly explained he was avoiding nightmares after Sans uncharacteristically snapped at him. They’d had their disagreements over the years, but this was the worst in a series of fresh spats that had erupted in the brothers' household as frustrations mounted. Sans hated it, maybe even more than Papyrus did.

He was supposed to be the chill guy who stayed calm no matter what... But he'd found himself in increasingly bad moods as time went on. It was getting hard to be as friendly as usual when he went out, and though no one had said anything they were starting to notice. Passers-by would give him a bit more space if they crossed his path, and the other regulars at Grillby's were hesitant to joke with him as much as usual.

And then one night, he was awoken by his brother and found he’d punched a series of holes in the wall with a bone attack in his sleep. So he’d started avoiding sleep too. His mind buzzed with too many thoughts anyway as it tried to find a solution. He didn't care too much what happened to him--not while Papyrus was stuck like this. All that mattered was making sure he could be happy again.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, brother, but you need to rest,” Papyrus begged him one afternoon as he stubbornly read a book on magical theory. “You look terrible, and I think it’d be for the best in this instance.”

“what’d be best is if we could get this figured out. i’m not gonna let you be forced to live as what he wanted you to be,” Sans retorted, eyes fixed on the page in front of him, and Papyrus made a worried hum.

“Well, yes, that would be ideal, but, I think at the moment it’s best you, er, returned to your lazy ways and got a nap.”

Sans stiffened and didn’t answer for a while. “… bro. we escaped that place and got him back for everything he did to us. knowing you’re stuck as something you never wanted to be, something you shouldn’t have to be… i can’t rest until you’re free to be who you want again. y’know?”

“Oh Sans…” Papyrus sighed, “I really appreciate how much effort you’ve put into this. It’s… more than I expected, if I’m honest, and it means a lot to me. But I don’t want you making yourself sick, or, hurting yourself somehow, or—or anything of that nature, so please, go take a nap. The book will still be there when you wake up.”

“yeah, and i’m reading it now. aren't you always saying sleep's a waste of my time?”

“Sans... I, um, think I may have been slightly. Wrong. About that. Because you without sleep is not a very good version of you. I hate to do this, but... please go sleep. If not for yourself, then… for me?” Papyrus pleaded, tilting his head sadly.

“... ok,” Sans finally conceded. He flipped the book shut, slid from the table and trudged up to his room—but not to sleep. That had been a lie. He waited, listened to Papyrus nervously approach and hover around his door for a few minutes before slowly returning downstairs, then took a shortcut into the abandoned, sealed-off section of the labs in Hotland.

He was glad he was a skeleton as he inhaled stale air a monster with real lungs would have suffocated in and stalked through the pitch-dark halls, his way illuminated by his eyes alone. Turning corners and passing ragged, deteriorating equipment, he indulged the flashbacks that followed him through the facility. It was worth pursuing whatever memories surfaced, even when they were painful, on the off chance it'd unlock what he needed. He’d done this before, another time when Papyrus thought he’d been napping, and put together more of what had happened to them here. Days of tests, procedures he'd never understand, harsh words that left him aching even now, years later, after he'd failed to meet some expectation. It all would be worth it if only he could remember the right thing.

He mostly seemed to remember the wrong things. He shut his eyes against the apparatus that had once drilled into his magic and stretched it so thin he thought he’d shatter right then and there; his fingertips itched at the memory of claws and he rubbed them in his palms, grounding himself on his blunt digits. He’d once been so comfortable in that other form, once believed that man and his claims he was no more than an animal, and it had taken so much fighting—mainly on Papyrus’ part—to help him reclaim everything he could be. And after everything that had happened, somehow a dead world and its ghosts were threatening to unravel all they'd done to bury it.

Sans flicked his wrist, and the apparatus shattered under artificial gravity. He wondered why he hadn’t done that before—maybe some lingering fear of retribution. He left the splintered metal and plastic behind, idly considering what else of this hateful place he could smash. Turning the corner, he came to a vaulted room lined with large cisterns that had been the holding tanks for living weapons as they grew. Only two had ever released successful constructs—before that, who knew what had met its end before it lived.

“YOU’LL NOTE THE SUBJECT APPEARS TO BE WELL-BUILT, WITH A STURDY AND ELABORATE BONE STRUCTURE,” the man said, gesturing at him, “BUT UNFORTUNATELY, LOOKS ARE DECEIVING. AS YOU CAN SEE, ALL BASE STATS ARE SEVERELY STUNTED. SPECIAL CARE MUST BE TAKEN IN ALL CASES OF HANDLING AND TESTING TO MITIGATE RISK OF FRACTURE AND METAPHYSICAL FAILURE. RESEARCH WITH THIS SUBJECT WILL BE OVERSEEN BY MYSELF AT ALL TIMES. VIOLATORS... CAN CONSIDER THEIR CAREER TERMINATED. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”

Sans grimaced at the unbidden memory, the thought of being seen as an object leaving a slimy feeling in its wake. Even when he’d worn that form, he’d been more than that, he’d been a person in his own right. That man had thought because he’d made them it gave him the right to control them, to coax and prod them in equal turns until they became what he wanted them to be. He’d nearly won, but Papyrus—oh Papyrus, the best thing this place had ever produced, undeserving of all it had done to him—had seen through his manipulation and come through. And now he needed someone to come through for him.

Sans left the tank room behind, resisting an urge to tear it all down with blue magic. He needed to poke a little further, push a little deeper. He'd make this place give up its secrets, but he could feel his patience wearing thin. He was running out of ideas, too. Maybe if he shifted, he could work out what to do from there? No, that would be—

“NO. IF YOU WANT TO TEST WITH YOUR… BROTHER TOMORROW, YOU WILL CHANGE BACK THIS INSTANT. SHIFT NOW.”

Something in Sans’ soul wrenched free, and he staggered, doubled over, clutching at face and chest. If he’d been well-rested, if he’d been his usual laid-back self, maybe he could have resisted the way he had a month before. But worked up by both past and present, he was too out of sorts to quell the power tearing through him; he only had the presence of mind to shortcut home as his body warped and became what he’d tried so hard to fight.

It was the buildup to the final romantic scene in Metatons's latest soap opera when Papyrus’ viewing was interrupted by a rounded form appearing in front of the TV and landing on the floor with a thud.

“Sans!” he barked, trying to stay focused on the show, “you’ve got to stop using shortcuts in your sleep! One of these days you’re going to—Sans?”

Papyrus stared at his brother’s prone form. He didn’t like how still he was. And he especially didn’t like how he was no longer round and friendly, but round and spiky.

The romance was forgotten as Papyrus leapt from the couch to shake his brother’s shoulders, words catching in his throat. Not Sans too, not again, surely this was a bad dream only it was Sans who wasn’t waking up. He whimpered, and looped an arm under him to drag him to the couch and curl around him. How often had he done this when they’d shared only a bare cell, how many times had he feared that last round of tests had finally done his brother in? How long would their past hold them captive?

Sans awoke with a start the next day, sometime mid-morning. Papyrus watched him rise blearily and stumble over unfamiliar feet onto the carpet; his eyes came to rest on the hands he’d caught himself with, and he slumped to the floor completely. After a silence that stretched on for minutes, he spoke.

“welp. sorry bro. i messed up. guess that’s the last time i try hard on anything ever...”

“Oh Sans, don’t say that!” Papyrus cried, getting up himself to roll his brother over. “Come on, now it’s even more important we work to solve this most elusive of riddles! As outlandish as it may seem, maybe you’ll have even more success than me! Come on, it's already late in the day--let’s have breakfast and then we’ll get to work.”

Sans only groaned. “i want grillby’s… but i can’t go to grillby’s like this… i’ll never have grillby’s again…”

“Sans! Cease your dramatics!” Papyrus demanded. “We have toast, which is perfectly good breakfast fare and certainly better than some grease-drenched horror! I’ll even make it for you since you probably have to learn how to use deadly claws again.”

Sans moaned from his place on the floor, and Papyrus left him to get started. As he waited for the toaster to warm up, he grabbed his phone and delicately entered Undyne’s number. He was getting much better at using his own deadly claws for fine motor skills again--it was one thing he was proud of in all this mess. After a few rings, Undyne picked up.

“Hey Papyrus! How’s it going?” she asked cheerfully, and he hesitated on what to say.

“Greetings, Undyne! Everything is going well! But I called to let you know that Sans won’t be able to work today. He’s, sick,” he replied, wondering if it was really a lie as his brother continued to rest limply on the floor in the next room.

“I take it you guys still haven’t made any progress, huh?” Undyne asked sadly, and he sighed.

“None. We’ve almost made backwards progress, really.”

“Ah geez, well, I know you won’t but don’t give up! And kick your brother’s butt into gear too, I’ve seen what happens when you let him slack off and it’s not pretty. Hey, I KNOW! I’ll stop by later tonight, how about that?”

Papyrus’ mind raced; it’d be no good if Undyne found out Sans had changed too. “Oh! Well! That would be okay! But my brother will probably be asleep and totally unavailable for interaction.”

“Nope! He’s not getting out of socializing THAT easily!” Undyne quipped brightly. “I’ll see you punks tonight!”

She hung up, and Papyrus was left staring blankly at his phone. Once Undyne had decided on something it was very hard to talk her out of it. He had to think fast or they’d get the chewing out of their lives and more questions than either of them wanted to answer. It was better the world didn’t know about their abilities and the man who thought he’d play god.

The toaster popped, and in an instant it was pierced by a bone. Sparks showered from the ruined appliance, and Papyrus slowly sat, staring at what he'd done. All this tension was getting to him, and he sighed. He stood, shaking his head. He could only feel frustrated with himself as he salvaged what he could of breakfast from the wreckage. He was better than this! He had the best control out of anyone Undyne knew, and he knew she was telling the truth—not a half-truth or white lie some people felt they needed to tell him to soften a world he’d already seen the sharp edges of. Undyne was guilty of that, and even Sans was, but he forgave them. They were trying to keep him safe and happy, and he appreciated that much, but he wasn't a child and it had worn on him for years.

At least Sans was doing it less now, after they'd spent the last month admitting what had happened to them back in the lab. Papyrus was certain, though, there were still things he was hiding from him. The fact he’d either transformed in his sleep, or not been sleeping and doing something he shouldn’t while pretending to sleep was proof enough of that. Huffing another short sigh, Papyrus glanced out to the living room, saw his brother was still on the floor, and put the two ragged slices of toast on a pair of plates and brought them out wearing his best smile.

“Well, we’ll need a new toaster but I’ve managed to prepare a simple one-course meal to tide us over until lunch. Up and at ‘em, brother!”

Another groan, but at least Sans slowly propped himself up. “hey, it’s not burnt. see bro, you’re improving all the time.”

“Indeed! I’ll be renowned cook and Royal Guardsman very soon!”

The rest of their meal was quiet—mostly on account of it being so short—and after brushing crumbs from his mandible Papyrus stretched and stood at his full height. “Alright, brother! We have until evening to finally make a breakthrough and pretend none of this ever happened! So! Get those mental bones shakin’!”

“… just don’t see what we could do differently. we’ve thought of everything,” Sans mumbled, sinking back to the floor. “i oughta just accept my fate.”

“No, I won’t let you,” Papyrus refuted, picking him up by his ragged hoodie with one hand. “You were right, earlier. It’s not fair for us to still be at the mercy of our past in this way. I’m even thinking, that, maybe it was bad we stopped being all of what we are… because we should be proud! No other monster can do what we do, and we are monsters! Not weapons like he wanted us to be—never like he wanted us to be. We should take back this part of us, because it never wasn’t a part of us.

“We’re going to change back, but, maybe it’s not a thing that can be forced. Not anymore. We’ve… accepted there’s a lot we can’t change, haven’t we? So, perhaps, this is. One more thing. We can accept…? We'll keep working! But! Not be so hard on ourselves if we don't get it right away.”

Sans blinked slowly at him. “bro… you’re so cool. if anyone can own this, it’s you. i just… yeah, i like bein’ that other shape, a lot more than i like being this one, but… i dunno. i think deep down i know… this was what i was always supposed to be. so... i'm accepting that.”

Papyrus gave him a very long, sad look. Slowly, he turned, and walked to lay Sans on the couch before joining him, and Sans eyed him warily the whole time. Judging by the look on his face, Sans regretted saying what he had.

“Sans,” Papyrus began, “I know he always wanted you to only be this way, and just be an animal. He never let you change, don’t think I didn’t notice! I think, in your rounder, friendlier form, it reminded him… that you were so weak? And you know how he hated, er, failure… His! His failure. He made us, so anything we’re bad at is his fault! Nyeh!”

Sans huffed a short laugh.

“In any case! You are just as entitled to owning all of who you are as I am! You are just as smart, and kind, and friendly and everything else in this form as you are in the other, even if it is easier to be all of that in the one you're not in now. And no matter what, just know that I love you, and nothing could ever change that!”

“… of course bro. right back at ya.”

But Papyrus could tell Sans didn’t really believe him. Or, it wasn’t that he didn’t believe him—it was more that he didn’t believe in himself, and that had been the hardest thing to work through as they’d put their lives together. Sans had never really done anything wrong, but he’d often done things in ways the man hadn’t liked—they both had, really, but somehow Sans always got the worst of it. He was too clever, too eager to take shortcuts and do things his own way. It wasn’t fair then, and it wasn’t fair now. All the more reason to work extra hard on mastering the quirks of their beastly forms all over again.

"Well, you think about it for a while, and I'll keep trying my way!" Papyrus conceded, leaving his brother to sit in the middle of the living room. They had to keep trying...!

He went through every method he’d thought of again, calling on his reserves of magic, remembering how it felt to walk on two legs and not have claws or a tail, to no avail. He even meditated for a while, and that was hard to do when he always had so much to think about. Sans had fallen asleep on the couch—which wasn’t so surprising as it was annoying. He'd told him to think of a solution--he’d never change back if he just slept all the time! Papyrus shook his head with a huff, and reached out to jostle him awake.

Fangs snapped inches from Papyrus’ forearm, and he leapt back with a yelp. Sans’ eyes focused, and widened as he realized what he’d done. Wordlessly, he began trembling, and buried his face in the couch cushions; Papyrus bounded back to his side and gently patted his shoulder.

“Brother, it’s okay, I startled you. I know you don’t want to hurt me,” he comforted, trying to nuzzle the face still wedged as deeply into the old cushions as it would go.

“i—i thought you were him, i wanted to—i wanted to snap your arm,” Sans admitted in a quiet, panicked rush. “i’m sorry papyrus, i’m sorry. you were right, i shoulda just napped, i shoulda stayed here and just been my lazy old self, instead i’m this and i’ll never not be this again. i just… i’m just gonna give up now, get it over with…”

“No Sans, you can’t! Yes, you should have stayed here, but we’ll get you turned back! We’ll both turn back, and be who we want to be again, just like I told you! I know we can! I believe in us!” Papyrus assured him, trying not to sound desperate. “Truly, it’s okay brother. Come out of there, you’ll never get who knows what out of your sutures.”

But Sans only groaned softly. With a worried huff, Papyrus grasped his brother’s skull and pulled it free. Sans offered no resistance as he was curled up and encircled by a blanket, and then his brother’s bony form; Papyrus knew he should have been continuing his work, but if he was honest he couldn't think about it at all. Sans was too close to letting himself go.

“Alright Sans, we’re going to rest,” he spoke as he folded his forelimbs under his chest. “But it can’t be for long! Undyne’s coming over and we have to be ready.”

There was no reply. Papyrus laid his head down next to his brother’s, tried not to think about how miserable he looked, and found himself drifting off after a while. Maybe some rest really was in order. He curled a bit tighter around his brother, and let his eyes close.

They snapped open when heavy knocking sounded on the door. Oh no.

“Hey Papyrus, open up! It’s hang-out time!” Undyne called, sounding cheerful. Papyrus leapt from the couch, which startled Sans awake. He blinked sleepily, then snapped into alertness when he realized what was going on. And in a blink, he was gone.

Papyrus groaned. He hoped Sans hadn’t gone too far, but at least it solved the problem of Undyne trying to interact with him—for once he was grateful for Sans’ avoidant tendencies. Mustering his usual high spirits, he answered the door.

“Hello Undyne! Welcome to the humble abode of the humbler Papyrus! The greatest skeleton you will ever meet!”

Undyne laughed. “Hey Papyrus, it’s good to see you. Still stuck as a horse lizard thing, I see.”

“Yes,” Papyrus huffed, “the tragedy of our time. I’m close to a breakthrough though, I can feel it!”

“I know you can do it!” the captain beamed with all her fangs. “Where’s Sans? I don’t care if he’s sick, he’s not getting out of at least a little noogie from me! Oh, but I also brought soup, I thought it might help him feel better.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of you!” Papyrus uttered, taking the small container Undyne handed over. “As it happens, he’s just stepped out for some fresh air.”

“You told him I was coming, right?” Undyne said with a frown, and he nodded.

“Of course I did! But you know Sans does as he pleases.”

“Yeah,” Undyne griped. “Well, hopefully he’s back soon. We're gonna have fun, but I wanted talk to both of you for a moment.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’ve been hearing some things from the other guards. I… guess we could talk about it now, but I don’t want you to worry and it mostly concerns him.”

“Oh no, go on! I worry anyway, it’s no big deal!” Papyrus assured her cheerfully, and she gave a bittersweet smile.

“Okay, okay… Well, I guess Sans has been kinda… irritable, lately. Dogaressa told me the other day. She said he hasn’t been joking around, or going to Grillby’s as much—which, normally I’d say is a good thing, but knowing your brother I know that means something’s up. I guess he snapped at Jerry, which, if it was anyone else it'd be totally understandable, but Sans never snaps at anyone.”

“He’s… stressed,” Papyrus admitted. “He doesn’t like that I’m stuck like this.”

“Hmm... I guess I can see that, but he’s normally so… unflappable,” Undyne said. “If this is just something you can do, why’s he so worked up that you’re stuck? Unless he’s actually an even crappier brother than I thought and thinks he can decide what you should be like.”

“No! It’s nothing like that!” Papyrus refuted, internally horrified at the thought of Sans being so controlling. It’d be too much like him. “He hates that I’m stuck, not that other preposterous thing you said.”

“Psh, okay, I get it,” Undyne laughed. “Still. It’s putting him in a pretty bad mood and it’s got people worried… and maybe it’s why he got sick, y’know? He threw himself out of whack with all this…”

“Yeah, it’s really unhealthy…” Papyrus agreed, looking away. “I’ll talk to him when he gets back. A grumpy Sans is hardly a Sans at all! Now! What did you want to do on our hangout?”

They ended up watching one of Mettaton’s new cooking shows where he competed against and judged himself with various dishes made under both time and ingredient limits. The clips were cut so it really looked like there were three of him in the kitchen at a time, and he played up the tension when he judged himself harshly on a failed dish. Of course, even the failures were absolutely perfect—he just liked the drama of elimination. It was good, bad TV, and for a little while Papyrus could forget his predicament. After a few hours and an attempt at making their own versions of some of the dishes they’d seen, it was time for Undyne to head home, and Papyrus was left with a quiet house once more.

“Alright Sans, it’s safe to come out now!” he called, on the chance Sans had merely taken a shortcut up to his room. There was no reply. Papyrus leapt up the stairs to poke his head into his brother’s room and found nothing out of the ordinary—but it was empty. Sans wasn’t home.

Papyrus returned to the living room and sat on the floor, tail flicking idly as he wondered what to do while he waited. Sans was fine--he’d be back eventually. He wouldn’t leave like he’d so foolishly run away--Sans liked the comforts of home too much. Even if he relapsed and sank into the cloying lull of instinct and everything he’d been trained to be...

He'd still know where home was and couldn't be gone for long.

... Right?

[meigh-day]

Obligation (Tendou x Reader) - Part 18

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Title: Obligation

Pairing: Mafia AU Tendou x F!Reader

Characters: Includes characters from both Shiratorizawa and Seijoh/Some OC background characters

Includes: Swearing, Guns, Knives, Excessive Violence, Blood, Torture, Threats of rape

Status: Complete

Word Count: 1.5k

Previous Next

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In the days following, a few things became quite clear.

To start with, Nanako's lies and trickery were soon discovered. After talking with the other guards and several hours spent reviewing footage, Yunohama was kind of let off the hook. Since you had disappeared on his watch, he had been given an ultimatum. Prove his negligence wasn't to blame or else he would have to spend thirty minutes alone with Tendou. Needless to say, Yunohama was keen to spend every waking moment pouring over the security recordings. He watched in disbelief as Nanako stared at the security monitors before her, a wicked smile on her lips. The time stamps matched perfectly to when you had snuck off the property. Relief flooded his body, the knowledge that he would remain in one piece filling him with some small comfort. He'd be lying if he said there wasn't a small amount of amusement knowing who was at fault. Though he couldn't be deemed entirely blameless, he had asked her to keep watch when it was his duty, no matter the reason. Within a few hours of Yunohama making his report, Nanako was escorted to a private room where anyone of importance within the organization had gathered around, their eyes boring into her, livid at the news of her betrayal. One look at the message history on her phone was all they needed to sentence her for the actions she had taken against the family.

No one told you what her punishment would be, though you noted she was no longer present at the manor. The news of her treacherous deeds had reached your ears and it was like the puzzle piece had fallen into place. You'd been wondering how the goons who had taken you were so fast. No matter how she openly disliked you, it hadn't crossed your mind that she would actually try and hurt you, not physically anyway. Not only had she pushed you into harms way, but she had forced Shiratorizawa to expend money, time and men to get you back. Thankfully, no one had died, not from your side anyway, but there had been several who has sustained injuries that would keep them unable to work for some time. Being short on men would surely put a strain on resources until they were healed enough to get back in action.

As for you, well you found yourself more or less cordoned off to one room. The bruises on your face had started to fade along with the scabs that accompanied the small cuts on your head and mouth, leaving behind small pink scars in their absence. Even your finger was starting to heal again, though a couple of small stiches had been needed to pull the skin back together after the wound had been pulled apart so viciously. Today was the first day you hadn't woken up with a pulsing headache, in fact you felt pretty good all things considered. You let out a little sigh as you pull your attention away from your new phone, the old one had been smashed beyond repair during the rescue. You were sitting cross legged, propped up on the bed by pillows, a soft black blanket draped across your lap as you glance around. Decorations were sparse bordering on non-existent, really aside from the bookshelves that lined one of the walls, there wasn't much else to look at. Though the bookshelves were jammed with all manner of manga, along with an impressive collection of Shonen Jump. You hadn't actually been back to your room since you'd been recovered from Seijoh, instead your things were brought to you a little at a time. It started with a few changes of clothes and daily essentials but was followed by some of your own books to help pass the time. The soft blanket on your lap had also come from your room, but you had a sneaky suspicion it had once belong here in Tendou's room.

Now, you weren't really supposed to be out of bed, in fact if any of the house-hold medical staff caught you, you'd be getting an earful. If Tendou caught you, well you weren't sure exactly what he might do, but more than likely it would involve him dragging you back to the room and threatening a personal guard. Despite the looming threat of lectures and guards, you were restless and therefore soon found yourself taking a slow stroll around the house. You did have the sense of mind to not leave the safety of the indoors, not even to go into the garden. For now you kept to the hallways, sticking mostly to the area that stretched between Tendou's room and yours, figuring if anyone questioned you for being up and about you could just say you wanted something from your room. It was a fine plan, really, if anyone else had spotted you they might have let you continue on your way. Unfortunately, your favorite pair of crimson eyes happened to be the one's that found you traipsing down the hallway.

"Well now..." Satori crossed his arms as he turned the corner, his gaze completely focused on your now frozen form, regret already seeping into your expression. "If I remember correctly, Dr. Utsui said you shouldn't be out of bed for at least a few more days." His arms uncrossed, hands sliding into the pockets of his knee-length jacket as he started to slowly saunter towards you. "And if I'm not mistaken, I believe I told you to be good and listen to the good doctor." You stood stock still, like a deer in headlights as you watched him prowl towards you. "So pray tell, what are you doing out of bed? And don't bother trying to make up an excuse." Suddenly you found your mind blank, that wonderful cover story you'd thought up swept away in the wake of Tendou's commanding presence.

"I was bored. Being cooped up all day was driving me batty and I just wanted to take a little walk. I promise I'll be careful, I won't even go into the garden!" The truth tumbles from your lips easily as you offer him pleading eyes, a small pout on your lips as you hope for a tiny bit of indulgence. Tendou smirks down at you, brushing your hair away from your face as he leans down and presses a small kiss to your forehead. "I know its hard beautiful but you need to rest." You let out a small sigh as you lean forward, pressing your face into his chest as your arms wrap around him. You reply with a muffled 'I know.' causing him to chuckle. "It's going to get pretty hectic around here in the next few weeks. They'll need you at your best, which means you have to take it easy until then." Wedding plans had been kind of put on the back burner what with the kidnapping and consequential rescue but the event was still scheduled to take place with no delays. The planning meetings had been set to increase due in part to your absence from the last three. He was right, even though you had very little say in the majority of the details, the demands of planning a wedding in just a few weeks would still take their toll. With a small sigh you lean back, a small pout still on your lips as you look up at him. "Fine." He gives you a knowing smile. It's not like he wanted to keep you all cooped up, though he'd be a big fat liar if he said he wasn't loving you being in his room. He got you all to himself all night and anytime he wanted to see you, he knew just where to find you.

"I do have one condition." He quirked a brow, amusement in his expression. "Oh? Go on."

"I'll only go if you come with me." You lean up and press a quick kiss to his cheek. "It doesn't have to be for long, I know your probably busy. But if you have a few minutes...it'd be nice to see you." Tendou blinked down at you, his features softening that much more at your sweet request. He sighed out happily, pulling you into a hug. "Damn, how can I say no when you're asking so sweetly?" He kisses the top of your head before releasing you from his arms, only to slide his hand into yours, fingers intertwining. "It just so happens, I was already on my way to see you. You see--" He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a thick looking magazine. Without seeing the cover you already knew what it was, your eyes lighting up as a smile spreads across your lips. "The new issue came out today and I thought maybe we could read it together?"

"Of course!" With an excited laugh, the two of you stroll hand in hand down the hallway to while away the afternoon together.